#when will i have enough of it done to start posting it? who's to say

[hawkins-batman]

The Noah Schnapp Situation Going Into S5

With Stranger Things Season 5 coming out this year, we are unfortunately going to see a revival of the debacle around Noah, even though by then it will be an almost 2 year old subject. So, I thought I would get ahead of that with some of my thoughts based on what I've seen these last few weeks and more broadly over the last 6 or more months I've been on this scene.

Spoiler Alert: This is going to be a long one. It'll probably be my new pinned post.

Why Still Talk About It?

Frankly? Because it's still going on. Keep in mind, Liam Payne died in October 2024 (just three months ago), right around Noah's birthday, and THIS is how Twitter responded to that.

And just in case anyone thinks I had to dig back a whole 3 months to find Noah-hate-content on Twitter, here was just random things I grabbed from the last week:

Which brings me to the next point.

Why Do You Even Care?

"Noah doesn't know you." "He's not your pookie."

I know that. The funny thing is, from what little I know about Noah, I'm pretty sure if he DID know me beyond the ONE DM conversation we've had, he'd probably tell me to chill. Dude is very non-confrontational and nice. So, why do it?

Because I think the online movement in favor of Palestinian self-determination has been hijacked by teenagers and performative leftists who care more about looking good for their peers than practicing what they preach.

Because (as you can see above and in screenshots like the one below), people who claim to hold my liberal/progressive/left-leaning values have used this as an opportunity to be openly homophobic and antisemitic towards a then-19-year old who had JUST come out of the closet.

Proponents of the hate campaign against Noah have said that they are just "holding him accountable" or "criticizing him" in the hopes he "learns something."

Look up. Point to me which image is accountability. Point to me the valid criticisms.

There are none. There is just flagrant homophobia. And then there are posts like this one, coming from the same crowd:

This behavior is wrong on its face.

It is violent. It is bullying (which doesn't seem like strong enough of a word) and it's bigoted.

Wanna see more? Look up @noah_schnapp on Twitter/X. See what they've done to his account.

Inevitably, some of the people participating in this will see this blog post. If you've made it this far, this is for you:

This behavior discredits your activism. It makes you look performative and fake to say in one breath that you are a "Leftist" who cares about Palestinian lives as well as the lives of minority groups worldwide, and then to turn around and talk like this about a Jewish person and a gay KID. Because he WAS a kid when this started. Furthermore, it makes it clear to those of us who actually hold the beliefs we claim, that you are vapid enough to use Palestinian suffering for your own personal vendettas. That the APPEARANCE of goodness is more important than goodness itself. And that you will shuck solidarity with minority groups the MOMENT one of them steps out of the lines you have drawn around them.

Not to mention...

It's Based Mostly On Lies

As a reminder, this is what Noah Schnapp actually said shortly after October 7, 2023:

Read that again.

"...we will hope and pray for safety, justice, liberation, and self-determination in Palestine." That was part of the very first thing he ever said about the issue.

And then this happened:

This was the image he was crucified for.

Stickers that weren't even his. That he wasn't holding up or making. He was in a cafe, someone else came up to him with them, and he was videoed with that person.

That's it. That's all. All those tweets you saw above? The fake stories made up about him like this one?

All of that was supposedly "accountability."

The harassment of his family. Murder threats. Rape threats. All for stickers that weren't even his.

There's even a paid Stranger Things author on this very site, styling herself as a Byler shipper, who has contributed to the lies that have further added to the hate campaign I've described.

As an aside, Noah wasn't the only one in that video. The influencers that actually posted the video and HAD THE STICKERS?

Nothing. Nada. Zilch.

And just to be clear - I don't think they should get hate. I think non-Jewish online Leftists appropriated a term from Jewish culture, redefined it, and are weaponizing it to beat down Jews all over the internet—which is par for the course for this charcuterie board of performative activism.

Yet the point stands. Noah was specifically targeted; and the homophobia that IMMEDIATELY came from the Left suggests to me that it was his sexuality and cultural/religious identity that motivated the attacks.

Again, I'll say, this is wrong.

Noah Has Since Responded

It hasn't stopped the bullying.

Didn't stop him from withdrawing from spaces he loved. From needing therapy from what we've learned from his now-deleted second TikTok.

And that really says something, does it? He cleared up his point. He tried to clarify and even apologize.

They didn't accept it. Not because it wasn't good enough. Not because it was "too late." Because this was the point. They wanted to keep doing it. They get sick joy from it.

Which is why...

I'm Not Shutting Up About This

This post doesn't even nearly cover the whole situation. The Byler fans who try to replace Noah's image in fan art and fan fiction. Who fan cast themselves as Will instead of Noah. The stalking and doxxing on Twitter. People reporting to GIANT hate accounts his location and when he's alone, PRAYING for him to be hurt.

I wish I could cover it all.

We have to stand up to this. On tumblr, on TikTok, on Threads, Twitter/X—everywhere we see it.

For our gay and Jewish siblings who see how Noah was attacked and feel less safe in their online spaces as a result, we have to speak up and say something.

And yeah. We have to say something for Noah, too.

The person who replied to me like this:

Him?

He did it because he needed to see a show of love from his fans. Doesn't mean he's perfect. Doesn't mean he won't mess up or do something in the future.

And no. Standing up for Noah, or for Jewish people, or other gay folks does not make you a genocide supporter or apologist. It doesn't mean you want any innocent people harmed. Don't give them the power to talk down to you like that. It's bullshit. You know it, and I know it.

All standing up to this vile shit is is an acknowledgement that Noah is a living, breathing person, as some of these people tend to forget.

And he didn't deserve this.

Any of it.

[prettybiching]

Helloooooooo my love. First of all, happy new year! (although it's coming a week late, sorry about that) I hope this year is filled with love and joy for you!!

Secondly, piggybacking off your last reblog, yes desi weddings are so elaborate ahhh!!! I loved the whole experience despite how exhausting and stressful it was as the sister of the bride. there's pre-wedding events, a week long wedding and then the post-wedding events so yeah nearly two months of dedicated wedding festivities lmfao but it was SOOO fun and I'm moving overseas in a few weeks so I definitely had a winter for the books.

NOWWWWWWW, I'm going to be honest, I couldn't help myself and I gave myself some sneak peeks from all the chapters uploaded because every time I get the notification I get SO excited and lemme just say - YOU COOKED AND I HAVE MASSIVE THOUGHTS

You thought you finally found Daemon when you heard Caraxes was in the dragon pit, and so you run there, run, much to the protest of Arryk, who was hot on your heels. He managed to convince you to slow down by telling you that you would eventually get to the dragon pit if you walked, but you would never get there if you pass out.

Oh god, breaking my heart already. Daemon, I can't stand you at times ughhhhhh. What will it take for my poor girl to not have to beg for someone to love her and be considerate to her.

You nod, placing a hand on your chest. You do a walking motion with your fingers towards Caraxes.

This is either going to end horribly or wonderfully and I don't know how to feel about either.

...while he is distracted from trying to figure out what you were doing, you circle behind your knight and sneak past both, making a beeline towards Caraxes.

GIRL NO!!!!!!!!!

PLEASE STOP TRYING TO KILL YOURSELF EVERY OTHER CHAPTER FOR THE SAKE OF MY WELLBEING

Amidst the peril of it all, you are calm as you look up at Daemon's companion. It stems from the truth that it would be far less complicated and less painful to be eaten by a dragon than to tell your husband you are with child and deliver it.

And there goes my heart again...I'm so mad at Daemon and the chapter has only just begun. I can't get over just how scared she is of telling Daemon about the baby because he will probably accuse her of incest (which would be so fucking ironic HAH) even though deep down he knows she never did any of that he's just emotionally constipated AS HELL. Even Caraxes is going to be done with his ass

In truth, you think your heart might be impaired, because it doesn't race at all as the beast seemingly imposes upon you. He cannot seem to stop pacing around you, as if he was restless, anxious even.

Alexa play "I Think He Knows" by Taylor Swift

You feel bad, for it seems... you've upset him, "apologies... I was hoping you'd eat me."

😭😭😭 STOPPPPP PLEASE SPARE ME

"HEY!" Arryk screams, thinking he can distract Caraxes. He can't, and he is losing his mind. Hoes not know what to do but to shout your name in terror. He can't help but draw his sword and immediately the dragon keeper is yelling something, motioning that he stop.

Help, I know this is a deeply serious moment but I can't help but laugh at the fact that Arryk whipped out his sword to defend himself against CARAXES

"Gods be good," you mumble as you gaze upon the creatures scales, "you can smell him, can't you? Daemon?"

OH MY GOD CARAXES CAN SENSE DAEMONS BABY IN HER TUMMY WE'VE GOT MEDIEVAL DNA TEST SOMEBODY GET DAEMON HERE

"It would have been better if you made me a snack," you mumble against him, feeling your tears drip.

caraxes and reader's bestie arc better start NOW

"He shoved her back and she fell!" he explains, "that's why her nose is bloody."

Oh my god Arryk stop tattling on my boy Caraxes like that. He was just trying to show some affection and protectiveness!!! It's not his fault that years of bonding with daemon also turned him a little dense and emotionally constipated like his master

"Perhaps she might get strong enough to grant you a child," he clenches his jaw, "maybe once the gods have granted you a boy or girl, you will understand my grief." Viserys motions with a nod, "you are to return to your lady wife with no quarrel. Take him out of my sight."

The way I 100% believe that the foundation of the brothers' relationship is that daemon will ALWAYS do the exact opposite of viserys tells him so the fact that he told daemon to return to his lady wife, it will lead him to run as far away from her as possible (aka stepstones)

Daemon seals you into an embrace and the warmth of his body quickly seeps onto your much colder one. A shiver runs down your spine. You immediately wrap your arms around him and nuzzle your face into his chest. He mimics you, brushing his cheek against your hair, taking in the faint smell of citrus. He remembers what his brother said and repeats it, "ñuha mijegindita ābrazȳrys." My poor wife.

THIS SCENE MAKES ME WANT TO CRADLE MY HEAD IN MY HANDS AND WEEP BECAUSE WHAT THEY COULDVE BEEN IF DAEMON WASNT SO DENSE AND THICK AND STUPID AND UGHHHHHHH

Daemon sighs, "he must have smelled me on you and got excited."

you're so stupid

The voice of his brother rings in his mind. Do you carry such low regard of him just as he? "Why can't it be me?" he snaps, "you think I will be of no help?"

Daemon "I can never comprehend someone being genuinely concerned for me because I never had a mother, I don't remember my father's love and my brother was an even bigger emotionally constipated idiot who can't show me love so I'm going to mistake your love for you doubting my capabilities" targaryen

You cut him off by reaching for his legs. He is frozen in place as you embrace him from where you knelt on the floor.

This is so tragic I've started crying again...

Cannot leave you? He does not like the way you imply he would be unable to if he wanted. Daemon watches you as you slowly bring yourself up to a stand. He does not help you as you pull yourself up using his legs and waist.

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE I NEED THIS FUCKER TO RECEIVE THERAPY FROM BRAAVOS OR WHATEVER BECAUSE HIS UNRESOLVED CHILDHOOD TRAUMA AND THE LACK OF PARENTAL LOVE HE RECEIVED IS GOING TO DESTROY THE MC AND I CANNOT STAND FOR IT I WILL DIE

"because I love you."

and im dead. im gone.

"you are mistaken."

"I love you" "It'll pass"

"I do not feel the same," he mutters.

FUCK YOU FUCK THE WHOLE TSRGARYEN DYNASTY YOU FILTHY LYING WHORE OF A DRAGON RIDER GO FUCK MYSARIA IN A WIG AND CALL OUT YOUR WIFES NAME AND TELL HER YOU WANT HER BECAUSE YOURE TOO SCARED TO SAY IT TO YOUR WIFE AND GO TO THE SHITTY STEPSTONES SURROUNDED BY NOTHING BUT UGLY LOOKING PIRATES FOR THREE WHOLE YEARS WITH SHITTY FOOD AND SHITTY WINE KJHGRRYVHBEBN LTLV

You nod, "I know."

Author, did you reach inside my brain and find the worst ways to hurt me? BECAUSE THIS HURTS OKAY

BUT IT ALSO FEELS SO GOOD??? WHYS THE ANGST YOU WRITE SO FUCKING GOOD??? IM IN LITERAL TEARS OVER THESE TWO, THE WAY DAEMON MADE HER BEG FOR HIM TO STAY AND IT WAS STILL NOT ENOUGH THE PARALLELS OF HER SAYING IT NEVER SERVES HER WELL ASKING SOMEONE TO STAY

If you're wondering how I'm doing at the end of this, then imagine this - IM IN TEARS and contemplating my existence. But I cannot atop praising you for how GOOD this chapter was. It hit right the spot. Thank youuuuu for yet another masterpiece <3

Tormented Spirit | 10

Part 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11

"Is it such a sin to stand up for yourself?" you mutter as tears blur your vision. The way he reacted was visceral, instinctive even. "You never have to stand up for yourself ever again," says Daemon, reaching a hand to you, "come."

Daemon Targaryen x Hightower!Reader | 6k+ | cw: fem!reader, reader has brown hair, wife!reader, twin!Gwayne, arranged/forced marriage, canon divergence, alternate universe, slow burn, DD:DNE, panic/anxiety attacks, suicidal ideation, attempted suicide, daddy issues/child abuse/family problems, mentions/depictions of mental/physical/psychosomatic illness, ye old misogyny, angst, typos, etc.

A/N: GUYS ITS STILL TOO FUCKING LONG I HAD TO CUT IT AGAIN T_T blah blah canon stuff/high valyrian inaccurate blah. please please leave comments/reblogs because they really help me with the fic. | cross posted on ao3

@arabellasleopardcoat @prettybiching @myllovellybones

Daemon does not come home to you that night. When you awaken, you feel sick to your stomach. The thought of food repulsive though, so you spend the morning looking for your husband, until your body betrays you and feels sick because of not having eaten. You realize that your state is not borne simply from worrying about the prince, but probably also because of this supposed life you carried within you.

You try to deny it though, chalking it up to your mind playing tricks on you. After all, it's laughable that you suddenly experienced these symptoms just after all the fuss of learning you were with child.

You thought you finally found Daemon when you heard Caraxes was in the dragon pit, and so you run there, run, much to the protest of Arryk, who was hot on your heels. He managed to convince you to slow down by telling you that you would eventually get to the dragon pit if you walked, but you would never get there if you pass out.

You'd never been so happy to see the blood wyrm.

"Daemon?" you call out, searching for him.

Caraxes is busy feasting on meat and Arryk is busy watching him, body tense and senses on high alert.

The dragon keeper comes to you, shaking his head, "se dārilaros iksis daor kesīr dombo." The prince is not here anymore.

You understood nothing, save dārilaros, which you knew meant prince, and figure he's probably telling you he is not here, which you could gather from simple observation.

You turn to Caraxes and point, "zaldrīzes." Dragon.

The man brightens, as he understands, "Caraxes."

You nod, placing a hand on your chest. You do a walking motion with your fingers towards Caraxes.

His eyes widen and he shakes his head and hands.

You clench your jaw and turn to Caraxes, nodding your head in understanding.

The dragon keeper relaxes.

He mistakes you.

"Arryk," you turn to your ward, "can you come here please?"

Arryk's eyes linger on the dragon a moment before turning to you. You settle him in front of the dragon keeper, and while he is distracted from trying to figure out what you were doing, you circle behind your knight and sneak past both, making a beeline towards Caraxes.

The dragon notices you immediately and watches you near. He lifts his head and sniffs the air, and only then do the two men realize what's happening.

"PRINCESS!" Arryk shouts, sprinting towards you before coming to an abrupt stop.

Enraged, Caraxes cranes his long neck, roaring at Arryk, making him topple back on his bum.

The dragon keeper screams a command and raises his hands.

Amidst the peril of it all, you are calm as you look up at Daemon's companion. It stems from the truth that it would be far less complicated and less painful to be eaten by a dragon than to tell your husband you are with child and deliver it.

The red creature screeches as snaps his teeth at the two men, causing his keeper to step back and Arryk to crawl back with him.

Caraxes then averts his attention, shaking his head as he circles around you, effectively blocking the two from seeing anything other than his massive, scaly body.

In truth, you think your heart might be impaired, because it doesn't race at all as the beast seemingly imposes upon you. He cannot seem to stop pacing around you, as if he was restless, anxious even.

Your face contorts at the bleating sound it makes. He lowers his head slightly inhaling and exhaling deeply. He makes another noise and you swear to yourself, the creature looks like he's fidgeting.

You feel bad, for it seems... you've upset him, "apologies... I was hoping you'd eat me."

Caraxes screams loudly again when he spots two other dragon keepers come to you from the other side. He threatens them with a snap of his teeth.

"Daor!" they scream in unison. No.

Caraxes seethes and screeches, as if saying, 'do not tell me what to do'.

He circles around you again, and this time, he shoves you forward with his wing. You yelp as you are knocked to the ground with a thud. You manage to brace yourself, grazing your hands as you did, but your chest still hurts at the impact.

The keepers scream in horror because of this, fearing that you would soon be eaten.

"HEY!" Arryk screams, thinking he can distract Caraxes. He can't, and he is losing his mind. Hoes not know what to do but to shout your name in terror. He can't help but draw his sword and immediately the dragon keeper is yelling something, motioning that he stop.

You whine as you roll on your side. Caraxes growls as he bites your arm. The fear finally sets in as he does this, and his powerful maw pulls you up to sitting position.

The dragon keeper, who ran to retrieve you, shrieks out upon witnessing this.

You gasp when Caraxes roars back, and you squeal when his wing comes over you. The strangest thing occurs to you in that moment, and your heart finally begins to race— not because it sinks in how much danger you were in, but because, suddenly, you knew you were not.

You come to a stand, and with no regard for your safety, you reach out for the dragon's skin, somehow shocked by how warm and hard it is. "Caraxes."

He hears you, though you barely raised your voice. He is sensitive to the sound of his name. Caraxes moves back, pulling away enough to be able to coil his neck and look at you.

The dragon keepers, who were so on edge, altogether fall silent when they see you in the midst of the blood wrym.

Arryk nearly broke into a other sprint upon finally seeing you, but he manages to hold back and lowers his sword, unwilling to sheathe it.

Caraxes produces a sound you think is akin to a mewl, as much as a mewl a ten foot beast could make. You huff and feel your breath hitch. You close your eyes and reach out to him, ready to accept whichever fate awaits you, companionship or death.

You gasp, eyes instantly opening when you feel the wetness on your hands. Caraxes presses his snout to your palms, and you squeak, quickly pulling back at the heat of his huff.

He lifts his head and begins to pace around again. You are certain now that the beast was, in fact, restless.

"Paez ilagon!" you exclaim, raising your hands at him.

Caraxes huffs, debating if he should heed your command.

"Paez ilagon," slow down, you repeat as the dragon fully faces you.

You, and everyone else who witnesses it, are shocked that Caraxes listens. He quits his pacing and slowly comes to a halt, looming over you.

Your lips wobble, humbled by the idea such a fearsome creature would obey the commands of such a pathetic being. You begin to weep, as Caraxes lowers his head, sniffing you. Your hands dart out to him when he gets too close. You slightly topple when he nudges you with his snout. You feel the warmth of his breath seeping through your dress as he brushes against you. You can tell he is trying his best to be gentle, but even then he is too strong that you have to repel him. He makes the faintest of sounds.

"Gods be good," you mumble as you gaze upon the creatures scales, "you can smell him, can't you? Daemon?"

Caraxes remains pressed against you a moment longer.

You sniffle and momentarily fantasize about the child growing within you. You lean into him in defeat, "you silly thing."

His throat emits a low rumble.

"It would have been better if you made me a snack," you mumble against him, feeling your tears drip.

Caraxes slowly lowers his head until he is laid on the floor. You remain leaned on him for a moment, and then you pull away with a sigh. You look upon the dragon, thinking he is so much like his rider, and stroke his cheek one last time before pulling away.

You walk towards the dragon keeper you had blindsided and lower your head in shame, speaking the word you had learned for Daemon, "usōvegon." Apologies.

He stares at you for a moment, taking in your now messy hair and dirtied face, and replies with something you do not understand.

You nod at him without meeting his eyes then hurriedly walk off. Arryk is quick to follow after you, and his skidding makes Caraxes screech at him. He flinches at the sound, looking behind him warily. You do not.

When Arryk finally catches up to you, he takes your arm and calls out your name. He is alarmed by the red smeared down your philtrum and cheek.

"Forgive me," you mutter, unable to meet his gaze. You do not stop walking, "I- I was overcome... I did not think of anything but myself. I did not mean to cause anyone such immense distress."

"What were you trying to do?" Arryk quips, taking in your dirtied face. He did not know if it would be appropriate to wipe it with his cloak.

You shake your head, still unable to look at him.

"Princess," Arryk speaks like a plea, "did you know Caraxes would not hurt you?"

You gulp, quickening you pace.

Arryk huffs in frustration, calling out your name.

He forces you to stop by dashing forward, coming in front of you. You look up at him, eyes teary and mouth parted.

"I beg you," he clenches his fists, before succumbing to his urges. He grabs his cloak and wipes your face, brushing the dirt and blood as neatly as he can, "please tell me you did not knowingly put yourself in danger."

The tears running down your face help him clean you off. You honestly say, "I don't know if I should tell you."

Arryk is heart broken. He clenches his jaw tightly and releases his hold on you. He steps aside and you begin walking again.

You feel awful as you look at him. He is sullen as he walks beside you. You wipe your nose on your sleeve, "apologies, Arryk."

He shakes his head and opens his mouth. His jaw hangs for a moment, but then he closes his mouth, saying nothing.

You turn to your side when you hear your name called.

Alicent, who was making her way to the king's quarters, runs up you, eyes widening at the blood on your face. The red had spread as it mixed with your tears. She quickly pulls out her handkerchief, "your nose is bleeding!"

Your eyes widen, as you did not know this, but you quickly take her wrist and slowly pull away, "it is nothing."

"What happened to her, ser?" Alicent turns to Arryk.

Arryk is eager to tattle, "she was at the dragon pit and-"

"I fell," you cut him off, blocking your sister's gaze upon your ward, "I-"

"You fell in the dragon pit?!" she bristles further. Your feigning backfired. "What did Daemon do?!"

"The prince is nowhere to be seen," Arryk scoffs.

"I was- am looking for him!" you blurt

"Caraxes nearly attacked her," Arryk adds.

"Arryk!" you whip your head to him then back to your sister, "he did not!"

"He shoved her back and she fell!" he explains, "that's why her nose is bloody."

Alicent calls your name as you call Arryk's.

Your sister takes your shoulders, eyes immediately watering, "did you want to get hurt, sister?"

Your jaw slacks, "I- I-"

"Does Daemon posses you to do such things?" your baby sister begins to cry.

You shake your head rapidly, "no! No. I swear to you, this has nothing to do with him."

"Then what?" Alicent asks with a broken voice.

You gasp for air and feel a shiver run down your spine. You cannot tell her the truth, so you explain instead, "my nose already bled yesterday, which is why it's bleeding now."

"What?!"

"I already fainted yesterday and fell quite hard, which is why my nose is bleeding again."

"Mother, please," Alicent whispers.

"Alicent, I swear to you, you need not-"

"How could you let this happen to her twice?" Alicent turns to Arryk.

Arryk lowers his head, "I have failed-"

"I snuck behind him," you blurt, "do not fault him for my impulsiveness."

Alicent's heart is crush as she watches you wipe your face.

"It is not Arryk's fault that my nose is bloody. It is neither Caraxes fault for shoving me. It is mine. My body is weak and I have spent all day looking for my husband, against the behest of my maester."

Alicent clenches her jaw. It is Daemon's fault.

"I will go to the maesters' ward and submit to whatever is prescribed to me," you place a hand on her shoulder. You sniffle, "do not speak to father of this."

"Make sure to go to the maester's then," you sister warns.

Dejected, you look away and walk off.

Alicent takes in a breath before grabbing her skirts, marching over to the king's quarters.

Viserys is in the middle of gluing his diorama of King's Landing when he hears a knock on the door, "come in."

Alicent enters, sighing deeply before pulling a smile.

"Alicent," his blank expression slightly lightens.

She curtsies, "your highness," and walks over to him. She turns her attention to whatever it was the king was building.

Viserys shows raises a block, "a new tower."

Alicent smiles softly, "pretty."

The king raises a brow upon noticing the stiffness to her demeanor, "is everything alright?"

Alicent betrays herself on purpose by nodding her head too quickly.

Viserys puts the tower down. He reaches for her arm, "what's wrong, my girl."

She takes a sharp breath, "my sister—"

He furrows his brows.

"—she... she has a bloody nose from falling."

"She fell?"

"Twice," Alicent fidgets with her hands, honest agitation for her sister taking over her, "because she's been looking for Daemon."

His reaction to the name is instant. Viserys' jaw clenches and his fists ball in anger, "Daemon."

Daemon struts down the great hall, making his way towards the Iron Throne. The night was now deep and the few candles lit in the room only increased the tension between the brothers.

The prince looks up at the king. The king and two kingsguard stationed on either side of the throne look down at him. Viserys clenches his sword, "and where have you been?"

Daemon scoffs, aimlessly looking around, "have you summoned me to nag?" He clasps his hand in front of him, leaning on one foot, "I already have a wife for that."

His brother laughs, hard. It echoes across the hall, but it is by no means genuine, "I would not have ever known with all the time you waste in brothels."

Daemon grinds his teeth, face contorting, "so you've summoned me to reb-"

"Did you say it?" Viserys snaps.

"... what?"

"An heir for a day— did you say it?!"

"..."

The king's nostrils flare.

"... we must all mourn in our own way, your grace."

Viserys sighs, lowering his head in defeat for a second, then erupts, "MY FAMILY HAS BEEN DESTROYED!" He seethes, "and instead of staying at mine, or Rhaenyra's side you celebrate your own rise with your whores and your lickspittles!

"And wife," he scoffs, "your poor wife... do you even know that your mount has injured her?"

Daemon stiffens.

"She came to the pit looking for you and the beast caused her a bloody nose."

"What?"

"You chose her Daemon. And in choosing her you prove time and time again, I bend to your desires only to be repaid with disrespect. You have no other allies in court but me, yet-"

"You do nothing but distance me from court! From the City Watch, even with- with her... you do nothing but heed the whispers of that leaching old man."

"Leaching old man?" Viserys raises his brows.

Daemon nearly vibrates in anger.

"You mean Otto Hightower?" the king's lips curl, "the man who begged me—"

He laughs dryly.

"—over and back to spare her sickly daughter from enduring a lifetime with a the likes of you!"

Daemon is wounded, "I am your brother."

"Then why do you cut me so deep?"

"I see that man for what he is."

Viserys huffs, "a loyal and faithful-"

"A cunt!"

The king leans back. His kingsguard are ready to draw their steel. Viserys realizes there is no getting through to him. He looks away then turns back to glare at him, "jiōragon hen ñuha laehurlion." Get out of my face.

"Lēkia," Daemon steps forward, muttering the word that meant older brother.

The kingsguards step forward, showing a glimmer of their swords as a warning.

"I hear it is the first time your Hightower bride has been separated from her twin. It would do her health good to visit Oldtown."

He clenches his fists tightly.

"Perhaps she might get strong enough to grant you a child," he clenches his jaw, "maybe once the gods have granted you a boy or girl, you will understand my grief." Viserys motions with a nod, "you are to return to your lady wife with no quarrel. Take him out of my sight."

Daemon does not wait to be apprehended and storms out of the room. He is bristling as he gets out.

"Mazeman bona ziry gōntan daor jikagon sȳrī." I take that it did not go well.

Daemon turns and sees Corlys standing by the door, hands clasped in front of him.

"I wanted to speak to you of something important earlier today. I hope your mood is not too bad foul-"

"Ȳdragon se sagon gaomagon lēda bisa jenigon," Daemon snaps. Speak and be done with this bother.

Corlys straightens his back and motions with hand, "it is regarding the Stepstones, your grace."

Daemon furrows his brows, vaguely recalling this topic being broached during one of the council meetings. The two of them discuss this as they walk down the hall. By the time the prince reaches your shared quarters, he's agreed to help the Seasnake with his concern.

You leap from your bed when the door opens. Daemon freezes as you scurry to the door, hastily running to him without even putting on your slippers. You stand before him barefoot, heaving as you clutch your nightgown. He stares at you, hands clenching into fists.

"Usōvegon," your lips tremble.

Daemon's face falls a fraction as he watches your eyes water.

"Usōvegon," apologies, you repeat. "Please..." you slowly reach for him.

He watches your palms press against his chest. He makes no attempt to move.

"Do not be cross with me any longer."

A deep breath flares through his nostrils. He realizes then that he is exhausted and shuts his eyes. He leans his forehead on yours and takes your wrists. He huffs at your feel, "you are freezing."

"I-"

Daemon seals you into an embrace and the warmth of his body quickly seeps onto your much colder one. A shiver runs down your spine. You immediately wrap your arms around him and nuzzle your face into his chest. He mimics you, brushing his cheek against your hair, taking in the faint smell of citrus. He remembers what his brother said and repeats it, "ñuha mijegindita ābrazȳrys." My poor wife.

You don't know what he says, so you make sure to tell him what wants to hear— what you think he wants to hear, "I will not defy you ever again."

He does not care about that. He pulls back and looks at you. He wipes the tears off your face and a line forms between his brows, "Caraxes attacked you?"

One of your hands instinctively comes to your philtrum, "no. I-" you shake your head, "I fell."

You don't know why you think Daemon would be satisfied with your answer. He presses, "tell me exactly what happened."

You huff, "I was... yesterday, I fainted—"

"Fainted?"

"—then I fell."

He shakes his head, "this happened in the dragon pit?"

"... no. When... when I was chasing after you."

Daemon brushes your hair back.

You cannot hold his gaze, "I went to the pit, hoping you'd be there and-" you realize you cannot tell him what happened. You cannot tell him you walked to his mount and his mount did not attack you because he could smell part of him in you. You huff, "-and Caraxes got close and knocked me over."

"Did he try to bite you?"

You debate for a second before shaking your head.

Daemon sighs, "he must have smelled me on you and got excited."

Your throat tightens. Goosebumps form on your arm when Daemon traces your nose with his thumb.

"And your nose bled?"

You do not want to answer.

He sighs, "I will reintroduce you to him, so that he does not act so-"

"It's not his fault!" you blurt, "not really."

He knits his brows.

"When I fainted and fell, my nose already bled, so..." you motion with a finger, "Caraxes simply... set off a previous injury."

He says absolutely nothing.

"My body is weak," you mumble, hoping to explain it better, "I've had worse injuries."

"Do you tell me this so that I will not bring you to Caraxes?"

"No," you shake your head, "no. Just... so you do not..." worry, you almost say, but then the idea feels presumptuous.

"Not fault my beast for acting like one?" Daemon asks, as he heads for his cabinet.

You look at him for a moment then follow. You decide to hum and proceed to help him get undressed.

Your husband examines your face. The moonlight mixed with candlelight makes your skin glow. He is loathe to think your tears add to it, but it's unfortunately true. Your being glistens because of all these things. He interrupts your unbuttoning by taking your cheeks and slowly wiping off the tears on your lashes.

You blink at him, "better?"

"Gevie," he says, brushing your throat with his thumbs.

You nod, though you still did not know what that meant. You push his doublet past his shoulders and once his dress shirt remained, he is quick to remove his shoes as you bring his clothes to the hamper. When you walk back to him, he is picking out clothes from his closet. You are deeply confused when he hands you a stack of shirts.

Daemon moves to his other cabinet and says, "pack those in my trunk for me."

You freeze and blink rapidly, "I-" you turn to his truck, which was atop his closet. Your heart races, "I cannot reach it."

Daemon pulls out more clothing before looking at you. You watch him closely as he stands and reaches for the trunk. He places it on the floor and opens it.

You slowly kneel on the floor beside it, doing your best to keep calm in this moment. Are you leaving? You nearly ask him, but you don't because he clearly is. You begin to fold his clothes, but you cannot hold your peace, "where are you going?"

Daemon stuffs his clothes into his trunk and sighs before crouching down to fix them, "the Stepstones."

"W-what?"

"The Seasnake needs help with the Crabfeeder, so I will help him."

"Why?" you blurt all too quickly.

Daemon straightens up. He looks down at you as you shake your head and quickly finish folding his clothes.

"Why must it be you?"

The voice of his brother rings in his mind. Do you carry such low regard of him just as he? "Why can't it be me?" he snaps, "you think I will be of no help?"

He is taken aback by how you chuck his clothes into his trunk rather aggressively. His face begins to harden with anger but then you make a noise and lean into the trunk, heaving deeply in and out.

"Wha-"

You cut him off by reaching for his legs. He is frozen in place as you embrace him from where you knelt on the floor.

Whatever choler was building in him quickly dissipates and morphs into... fear, or rather, worry. He calls out your name, reaching for your head.

"You cannot leave me," you shudder, gripping his calves for dear life. You look up at him, face wholly distraught but not teary. You find yourself too tired to shed a tear.

Cannot leave you? He does not like the way you imply he would be unable to if he wanted. Daemon watches you as you slowly bring yourself up to a stand. He does not help you as you pull yourself up using his legs and waist.

Your hands remain gripping the sides of his shirt as you stare at him. You take in his stoic expression as you gather the nerve to repeat, "you cannot leave m-"

"And why can't I?" he quips as his insecurity gets ahead of himself.

You hear it in his voice. You hear how he thinks you're challenging him. You shake your head and correct yourself, "n-no," you shudder, "no, Daemon, no. I- I want you to stay." You brush your palms up his chest.

He can feel the tremble of your hands as they come to his cheeks. He knit his brows at your confession. He has to ask, "why?"

You could tell him many reasons. The one possibly most relevant to him is that of the fact you were carrying his unborn child. A shiver runs down your spine; you are not foolish enough to believe this would be something that would make him want to stay. You could always tell him you needed him, your health needed him, because it was true. As much as he clawed your fragile heart, he made it soar in ways you've never experienced. But there was a rather simpler truth to that need, though attached to a very complicated feeling, "because I love you."

Daemon's expression falls. Though his lips barely part, you can tell that he is gobsmacked. You release a shaky breath as you swipe his chin and jaw with the pads of your thumbs.

Should he be so shocked? Love in a marriage is not so uncommon, even if it is arranged, even if it felt opposite in the beginning.

So, what?

What was your love to him? It would wax and wane like his brother's— and his brother, his fucking brother. He could not grant him the satisfaction. Daemon takes you by the wrists and slowly pries you off, "you are mistaken."

You take a deep breath at his words. You are perfectly still.

"I do not feel the same," he mutters.

Daemon was not one to lie, convinced such an act was beneath him, reserved for incapable, lesser men; half-wits, and yellow-bellies. The only reason he could say this was because the cup in which you held your love for him was far deeper than the one he had for you, and he was aware of it. He loved himself far more than he could ever bring himself to love anyone; he would always be first.

Still, he was not an incapable, lesser man, nor was he a half-witted yellow-belly. He knew of the cup he held, which oft overflowed. The mere thought of you triggered a smell in the air, and at the mention of your name, his bones ignited. You were his, and you held his regard, his affection, his lust, and, yes, his love.

All of this, he was about to explain, but then your reaction blind-sided him.

You nod, "I know."

How terrible it was to hear it. He knew his words where callous. He knew wuch an admission is a gash from a jagged blade— to not be loved by who you loved. Yet your casual resignation to this information stung, nay, scorched his heart.

Is it cold? Is his love so dry you cannot even feel it?

His grip on you falters.

You bring your hands to his shoulders. You rub his bicep and smile softly in reassurance, "I do not mind."

"What?"

Your smile widens a fraction, "I know you enjoy the... delicateness of my body, both intimately and-" you motion to yourself, "-regarding my affliction."

He knits his brows.

"It is wholly contrary to yours, and it is mirthful to you," you nod again, "I understand."

"Do you?" he raises his furrowed brows.

You slowly loosen your hold on him. You pull away to fidget with your fingers, "do I not?"

"No," he scoffs under his breath, chest tightening far too much he has to move past you, "I don't think you do."

You are quick to grab him but it slips, "then make me understand."

Daemon stops in his tracks, turning back to you as his breathing picks up.

Your own does the same, but your gasps get shorter and shorter, so much so, you feel yourself get lightheaded. Your husband has to grab you to keep you upright, but you want to show him you have the will to overcome this, that you aren't dead weight, so push him away and mutter, "I- I can do it, Daemon."

He misinterprets you. You scorch him again. He squeezes your arms, "you don't want my help now?"

"No," you say as try to catch your breath, "I- I just-" you cannot continue.

Daemon has to sit you down to help calm you down. He tried to keep you upright, but then he realizes you were consciously trying to lean into his chest, so he lets you. You press your cheek against his warm muscles and sigh at the beat of his heart. You wrap your arms around him, "I want this."

He stares at your brown hair for a moment.

"I want all of this," you sigh, "which is why I want to be what you want me to be."

He finally lets himself embrace you, but just then, you pull away to look at him.

"I can do it," you nod as you take a final deep breath, "I can be a dutiful wife— I will be a dutiful wife. I will not defy you. I will do as you please. I will not expect more than I ought."

"You cannot do everything for me," Daemon says with slight contempt, a line between his brows.

"I-" you shake your head, "... I know," you shake your head faster, taking his hands, "but can I make you stay?"

He looks at how you hold him. He feels sick.

"What can I do to ma-"

"You do not understand," he pulls his hand away, "my brother wants me to leave. He is sick of me and prays for my riddance."

You watch as Daemon stands and paces around.

"He told me to bring you to your twin in Oldtown, and I would sooner eat Caraxes' shit than be tossed aside to the fucking Reach."

You shake your head, "why does he want you to leave?"

"He is weepy over the drunken words I spoke."

"Well, what did you-"

"Does it matter?!" he snaps, raising his hands, "I must leave!"

He is clearly upset. You nod your head and come to a stand, "then I will speak to the k-"

"No!" he shouts, "I will not have my wife act on my behalf, as though I rolled my belly."

"You are not rolling your belly, I am."

"You think there is a fucking difference?!" he quips, marching in front of you, "no! I am to leave in the dawn, so pack my fucking things, woman!"

You grit your teeth in an attempt to steel yourself away. It does not prevent the tears from running down your cheeks.

Daemon's nostrils flare as you go back to his trunk and sort out his clothes. He hears your soft whimpers and slowly begins to deflate. He wipes his face, slowly turning to you. He watches tears drop onto his garbs, "have you nothing to say?"

You sniffle and shake your head rapidly.

"No?!" his expression pinches.

You stand and grab the rest of this clothes. You sniffle with difficulty then sigh deeply. Your voice is shaky, "I want only to please you."

Daemon chuckles dryly, aimlessly looking around, "you think this pleases me?"

"Then tell me what will!" you whip your head around, clutching his clothes tightly in your arms, "I implore you." You step forward and haphazardly drop everything to his trunk, "I cannot please you if you refuse to tell me what you want."

"I want to go to the fucking Stepstones!" he points to nowhere.

You are shattered. How terrible of him to make it so painfully clear that what he wants does not even involve you. He does not want you, or even if he did, you cannot be enough. You lower your gaze.

"I want you to beg me to stay."

You look up at him. You chuckle dryly under your breath when you realize he's being serious. Your sorrow is not enough, it seems, now he wants even your shame.

Daemon tenses when you get on your knees.

You grip the fabric of his trousers as tightly as possible in an attempt to steel yourself, but it does not prevent your tears from falling. You shudder, "please."

"..."

"Stay. I beg you."

Your prince gazes upon your bitterness. He brushes your cheek and feels the coldness of your tears. He sighs because this does not affect him the way he had hoped.

It is not enough.

Dawn breaks, and Caraxes is restless. Daemon's things were being secured on his dragon, but that is not why so many dragon keepers had to keep him in check.

There, by the entrance, you stood with your hands clasped together and your head hung low. Both your wards behind you, eyeing your prince, who was doing his best to calm his ride as the last of his things were readied. Daemon did not know Caraxes was acting this way because of your distress, but the keepers slowly began to realize this was the case.

One of the keepers call out, "ñuha dārilaros, aōha ābrazȳrys." My prince, your wife.

"Rȳbagon, Caraxes!" Daemon snaps at his dragon to listen. Caraxes shakes his head and the prince spares the dragon keeper a glance, "skoros hen zirȳla?" What of her?

"Aōha zaldrīzes kostagon yknagon zirȳla boter." Your dragon can smell her suffering.

The prince turns to you, back to Caraxes, "iksis ziry zirȳla, Caraxes?" Is it her, Caraxes.

You lift your gaze when you hear Daemon call for you. He beckons you over and before you can move, Arryk grabs your arm and whispers, "I do not think this wise."

You slightly turn to him, "he will not harm me. You saw how Caraxes acted yesterday."

"It is not the dragon I worry about."

You look at the man, seeing how his jaw is clenched. You place a hand on his shoulder plate before walking towards your husband.

Rather immediately, there is a shift in Caraxes's demeanor. He huffs and screeches, neck coiling so his head could come near you. Daemon barks out multiple commands and his mount finally obeys.

The prince knits his brows then turns to you, reaching out a hand. You take it and find yourself pulled into your husband's arms. Your skin pricks with goosebumps when he whispers in your ear, "he wants you."

You sigh and close your eyes, resigning yourself to Daemon. He links his fingers into yours and places it atop his dragon's snout.

Caraxes sighs and slightly leans in.

Daemon is astounded by this, "I did not know he could possibly care for someone more than his rider."

You slowly open your eyes and look at the creatures ruby scales. "He does not," you mutter, rubbing one hand on your belly.

He does not hear this. When he turns you around, he catches you rubbing your stomach. He sighs and takes your hand, "do not weep so bitterly."

You cannot do anything but the opposite. Tears stream down your cheeks, "do not be so cruel then."

Daemon watches how your lips wobble. A line forms between his brows, "do not make this harder than it should."

You pull away from him and lower your gaze, "then just leave me now, and spare me the slow torture."

He tenses at your words. His expression hardens, "I did not ask you to see me off."

"Shall I leave then?" you snap, eyes red as you look back at him.

"Yes!"

You grab your skirt and walk towards the twins.

Daemon is stunned. He turns around and watches as you storm off. He calls your name, once, twice, and then he is sobered by the scream of Caraxes. You do not even stop by the entrance anymore, and walk past your kingsguards, who are quick to follow after you.

Here you were doing his bidding, following his wishes, yet there was no satisfaction. All there was... was less of you, less of your strength, your light, your fire.

Daemon turns to Caraxes, who was restless again. He pushes past the dragon keepers and saddles up. He orders Caraxes to start walking, so he does. The blood wrym begins to crawl towards you and the prince has to reel him back, barking out orders of obedience far too loudly.

Caraxes gives a loud screech before following the order. He huffs so deeply that the wind it produces makes you topple.

Your knights are quick to keep you upright, and though you so badly want to turn around, you remind yourself that your husband has done nothing but all he wants since you've wed. If he wanted you to stay, he would have told you.

You wouldn't know then that Daemon made Caraxes stop in his tracks. You wouldn't know that as he watched you walk off, he was mumbling under his breath that you turn around. You just kept walking yet he still waited for you to turn back, even after your figure had disappeared.

He would also never know that you headed down to the docks near the Keep, just to watch Caraxes fly away one last time. He would never know how your skin pricked with gooseflesh at the sight of the red winged beast soaring above. He would never know how hard it became for you to breathe.

"Gods, please," you mumble as your eyes endlessly watered, "swiftly return him to me."

Arryk and Erryk, stood on either side of you, glared at the sky as they heard your broken voice. They were on high alert as the docks were busy at this hour, and yet, it was necessary to convey their contempt, even if the person it was meant for could not see.

"Give me back my husband," you look at your reflection in the water, "or take me to my mother."

Before your words even register to either of the twins, you've already jumped into the water. Erryk nearly jumps in with you before realizing his armor would surely make him sink. "PRINCESS!" he screams as he undoes his armor.

"THE PRINCESS!" Arryk screams to the fisherman, "SHE'S FALLEN INTO THE WATER!"

The commotion is great. It is loud and frantic, yet as your body plunges and slowly begins to float, you care little. You feel someone fish you out of the water by the arm, and you want nothing more than to break free and swim towards your demise. But then, you hear your wards calling out your name, and you realize you cannot.

You say nothing once you are on land.

Both Cargylls has a hand on your arm, and each of them are worriedly questioning you, "are you alrigh- what happe- what were you thinki- are you faint- my princess-"

"I need to see him," you say.

Arryk and Erryk freeze. The look at each other, not knowing what to say. Arryk offers, "my princess. I fear you cannot see Dae-"

"Not him," you look between them as you gather your skirts. It is arduous, as it is soaking wet.

Otto was on his way back from the scrolls room when hears the shout from across the hall. He tenses like a rock at the recognition of his daughter's voice.

You hadn't realized how tired you were until you saw him. Your knees immediately buckle and you fall to the floor as you call out, "papa!"

The Lord Hand dashes to you, dropping the scrolls he had along the way. He gets on his knees and picks you up. He is aghast by your dripping state, and his anger is soon turned on your incompetent guards, "WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO MY GIRL?"

"Papa," you mutter once you are in his arms.

Otto cradles you, looking down at your sorry form. A deep line is between his brows.

"He left me," you whisper, tears wetting your already wet cheeks.

Daemon. Lord Hightower clenches his jaw. It's always fucking him. "Come, my girl," he mutters, trying to bring you to your feet, "let's get you-"

Your voice is soft, yet it still cuts him off, "you must not leave me."

Otto is frozen. Arryk and Erryk are frozen too.

"If you leave me too, I do not think I will survive."

[robinsgrl]

since im still getting hate through anon over “stealing” a concept that I didn’t know this woman had posted prior to me, im going to clear some things up.

rafesangelita reblogged a post of my comment which was taken completely out of context and not me pioneering “weird!girl”. I was talking about the “fan club” that the commenter was referring to. She commented “weird girl fan club” and I responded with “I am the leader and founder of” meaning, I was the leader and founder of my weird girls FAN CLUB because I adored that character. in high school, all the clubs had a leader and a founder but that doesn’t mean they created the idea of the club, and that’s quite literally what i meant. Think of it like a silly little club in school, it was a joke about a fan club for my specific reader. Granted, it was worded weirdly but that was part of the joke. Like me “completing” the sentence. yes, im name dropping her because quite literally everyone in the fandom knows her and she reblogged a completely inaccurate post AND blocked me before I could even speak up.

now for the woman who is claiming that i stole this concept from her. we dm’d and honestly, she was nice. i have nothing against her as a person. but she was still reblogging stuff that her friends posted about the situation and if it’s been “resolved” then stop reblogging things. anyway, she privately messaged me and admitted that she “blocked me previously to this happening”. i started writing for this fandom the end of november. I posted weird girl reader the first or second week of December. she admitted to blocking me since she saw the post and it blew up pretty quickly so im assuming that she blocked me around the same time that it was posted. i can not stress enough that i had not seen her work. as you can see that was almost a month ago. im not sure on my timeline because literally no one will tell me anything but my first post was nov. 22. it hasn’t been that long since i’ve been in this n fandom

the few works that i DID read were texts posts. everything i read i literally reblogged under my recs. I hadn’t read much farther than that. Now i know there’s no way to prove that but it’s the truth. I didn’t see her posts. I didn’t know who she was. And I didn’t get the time to know who she was because she blocked me.

now, in her long post in that same reblog im talking about, she stresses that you can make weird girl different. that she spent time on her character and I’m sure she did. granted, I didn’t get to read her works because again, I’ve been blocked. but that’s quite literally the point of _!readers. writers have the control. they can base them off of whatever they want and she named those examples. just like she was proud of her reader, i was proud of mine. those things that my reader did in the series were things that i have quite literally done in my real life.

the first part. i did the boob/pec thing to a gym guy that i was seeing back when i was 18. biting someone’s muscled arm was a trend that i saw on tiktok. Of women biting their so’s muscles.

the putting her hands in her boyfriends jeans to warm her cold hands up? i did that before and granted, it was with a girl that i was semi-seeing and not a guy like the original post, but I just flipped the scene. same with the ass slapping and grabbing joke. i do that to my friends. my friends. it’s weird, yes, but that’s why i wrote this weird girl with things i’ve done before because for a long time, i was considered weird. i was bullied in school for being weird, as im sure a lot of people have been.

this reader of mine was me. from the antics she did to the chronically online posts and texts. ive had so many people say that they, themselves have done these things with their significant others as well because tiktok and social media is normalizing not being so serious all the time, that it’s okay to be awkward and weird and goofy with the people you love. And as stated before, i go into writing weird girl reader as someone who’s on the spectrum. I don’t write that she is but as someone who is, those little pieces of me were in the story and im sure many who are can understand that.

she goes on to say that people blow up on her for confronting them. im truly sorry she had that experience but i am not them. she should have come to me as an adult from the beginning. as a grown woman. we both are grown enough to have a civil conversation before name dropping and having people come to my page and say im plagiarizing and copying her when i did not know who she was. because im sorry to say this: you did not inspire me. i did not see your posts. i did not know your account. until this reblogged ask was posted, i did not know you existed. i can not give credit on a concept that i didn’t even know you posted ahead of me. quirky readers like this have been around for longer than your own. i remember reading one direction wattpad stories with quirky/off putting readers when i was a preteen, literally dozen off stories, and back when it was “not being like other girls”. this concept is not new and was not popularized by you. I am not saying that takes away from your work. You have a right to be upset when people steal your own personal work but a concept is a concept. And it’s not one that i stole or got inspiration from you. and i have to reiterate: I am not saying i came up with this on my own. Im not saying this was my idea. But i did not get it from you.

now cameronwillow is defending her friend and i get that. having friends like this is important in hard times but i do believe she and the original sender of the ask, blew this thing out of proportion. im glad you’re there for your friend, truly, a love like that is all anyone can ask for. but you did this the absolute wrong way. read the top to see what i mean. if you still think i copied or stole from your friend and that “credit wasn’t given”, then, you’re gonna keep having a tough time on the internet and in fandoms; tropes and concepts and plots are constantly reused.

now, you posted that i should’ve messaged first. how when she admitted to blocking me when she saw my first weird girl post? you go on to say that “if you’re old enough to be on tumblr then you’re old enough to use your thumbs and message people off anon”. Now, the anon hate is wrong and anyone who is harassing your friend in a harsh way or calling her names, don’t take them as anyone I would support. I wouldn’t support any of them or any of that. If i found out who it was, i would report and block them myself. Hate through anon is wrong no matter what. But wouldn’t that go both ways? You all reblogged and posted things about me while I was blocked before we could have any sort of discussion as adults. (With the exception of dolly because she did unblock me and we had a discussion, although i will say it was too late.)

those are the main few that i think had a lot of hold over the situation. dolly isn’t at fault here. but neither am i. it was a bad situation that was dealt with badly. feelings on all sides are valid but this is the internet, you have to be careful with what you post and how you word yourself. i should have worded myself better on that leader and founder comment and i admit that, it was wrong. but at the least all of these people can and should admit that they blew this entire thing out of proportion.

now, i do want to add that this person gravedigginbbydoll made a completely insane post. in my latin culture, mal de ojo/brujeria/ hexes are a terrifying thing. it’s not something to be messed with in any sort of way. i’ve seen first hand what those things can do to a person. my mother and her long line in mexico rebuke all of this. they fight against it. they cleanse others and us in ways that i wouldn’t even know existed if i wasn’t a part of them. you don’t have to believe in it but i do. I wholeheartedly believe in it. And maybe she didn’t mean me. Maybe she didn’t mean it seriously. But i took it seriously. My family, who im talking with this about is taking it seriously. If youre an avid believer and follower of this stuff, you should know that a post like that to a random girl on the internet, who just wanted to get a better grasp on this abrupt situation, is maniacal and evil. I believe in karma. Karma IS going to come for you over that post and over wishing those things on me (and others).

I had a conversation with her friend under a post where we talk about the hate comments and anon and i agree, neither of us should get this hate. Not at all. And dolly has the right to her feelings. Plagiarism and copying is a real issues in fandoms and in fanfiction writing, one that i have dealt with myself in my past fandoms. But it’s also not insane of me to want to defend myself. I’m not “dragging it” by wanting to defend myself. I’m not “dragging it” by posting this. This is me defending myself and my writing because i am being completely honest— I did not know her work.

sensitive topic below here

Now to those who are defending me and sending me sweet messages, i love you all so much. It means the absolute world to me that you all are willing to hear me out and not jump to conclusions like many people are. And im so grateful for all the love on all my works, not only my weird girl posts. Fearless and Kildare nights were works that i was immensely proud of. Kildare Nights was a way to let out my silly little thoughts. I get attached to character and JJ was one that i was very attached to. The ending of s4 felt like a hole in me and i wanted to fill that. On top of that, a lot of you knew from my authors note that i was in the process of moving. I was lucky enough to find a place with my family in time before being evicted. I was homeless before this. I moved in with my mom because i was literally homeless. I slept in a shelter for a few days before renting a room in a random house with a random lady i met on Facebook. My mom, who I wasn’t talking to at the time, let me move back in with her. But she hadn’t told the landlord. So we were scrambling to find a place. Being homeless is a traumatizing part of life that I never want to go through again. And Kildare Nights is what got me through the nights where I wanted to give up again.

And Fearless was my baby. I’ve been a big girl my entire life. I was bullied for it relentlessly in high school to the point of developing an eating disorder that I still struggle with at 21 years old. I’m getting there slowly and surely but Fearless was for the big girls now and in the past that never felt like they could be loved. For the big girls who struggled to find themselves attractive or sexy or even pretty. To the big girls who have had mean girl experiences regarding their weight and just mean high school girls in general. We are deserving of love and romance and even the heartbreak that comes with all of that.

And im sorry to cut it all short. But this account is tainted by everyone who has name dropped me, who has blocked me, who has sent me hate through anon. By all of it. I may be grown and I should be able to handle these things but truth is im not. I don’t have the confidence nor am I in the correct frame of mind, mental health wise, to be putting up with all of this. I get that im not a child but Im 21 and still figuring things out. drama (because this is drama. despite saying its not.) shouldnt be in spaces that make us feel good, that make us feel empowered and that a lot of us use as an escape. thank you for hearing me out.

[sweetdispatch]

Sex stays, right? - J. Hughes

Purple Chemistry | Previous Chapter

summary: Jack opened to you after one of his lost games to later ignore you

warning: mentions of sex, swear words, misunderstanding

words: 2.0k

note: devils - rangers game is a good reason to post another chapter haha

---

Everything went back to normal with you two. Well, normal after your secret was out. Jack was still showing up at your apartment when he needed to fuck you. Although, after you received the flowers, you started talking on a daily basis. It wasn’t the same as earlier when he only wanted sex. You felt that he’s trying to trust you again.

Still, Jack was enjoying the deal you two had about sex. He didn’t want to pressure things but having someone for a night was nice. He didn't feel bad that he was using you for this but after he fucked you and left undone, it brought him to realisation that you’re more than just this. He was bitter about the lie and your favorite club but he wanted to make it as normal as possible. 

During Christmas time, Jack gave you a gift and you were in shock because you didn’t prepare anything for him. You never thought he would come up with something like that. It was a teddy bear and your favorite chocolate but for you, this gesture meant a lot. You wanted to give him something but he was repeating that it’s fine. This teddy bear was sleeping with you from now on.

Day before New Year’s Eve, Jack played in Boston. You watched this game and saw that his team had a 2:0 lead, and lost 2:5. This time, you held your tongue and decided not to say anything. You felt bad for him but not bad enough to talk with him about it. You were sitting quietly at home, searching for inspiration for a tomorrow’ party. 

You woke up in the morning and went to prepare yourself with lemon water. You heard knocking on your door. Being sure that one of your friends decided to visit you, you opened the door but it was Jack. You let him in but didn’t say a word to him. You were keen on your preparations instead of him. 

“I feel like a loser” He sighed and dropped on the couch. 

“It’s just one game, move on and focus on the next one” You didn’t want to have your mood ruined because of his pity party.

“Easy to say for you, we were leading and later we let score 5 fucking goals”

“Oh c’mon, games like that happen. Now, you can just learn from the mistake and be better in the next ones” You said while washing your glass. “Now, do you want anything more or can I start getting ready?” 

“Are you going somewhere?” He asked surprised.

“Yeah? I’m going to a party with my friends and I need to get ready” You replied.

“Can I stay and just talk?” You looked at him with shock written on your face.

“Um… sure. If you want” 

You went into your bedroom and sat down in front of your mirror. You pulled out your cosmetics and started working on your eye look. Jack sat down on the bed and talked his heart out about this game, how he feels playing and how his team is doing. You were listening to every one of his words but didn’t interrupt him. You wanted him to feel free to express his feelings. 

For Jack it felt so normal to lay in your bed and talk about everything. He hadn’t felt weird to be honest with you about what he’s thinking. Your presence was calming him even if you were only listening to him. He wished you two were more than this but he couldn’t forgive you lies and he was bitter over who you are rooting for. In his mind, you're a Rangers fan so you could never truly support him. 

After two hours, you were done with your makeup and stood up to go change into a dress. Jack laid on your bed and rested. This was a quiet moment between you two. No talking, just enjoying each other's presence. You grabbed the dress and went into the bathroom to change.

“I saw you naked, you don’t need to hide” Jack joked and you rolled your eyes. 

When you were ready, you left the room and Jack looked at you. You were wearing a short black dress that laid perfectly on your body. He was looking at you for a couple seconds and you felt insecure that it’s not a good choice.

“Do I look bad that you are staring?” You asked him and he quickly shook his head.

“No, actually I think you look gorgeous” You blushed hearing his words.

“Thanks” You walked into a closet to pick out high heels and a purse.

Jack sat up on your bed and couldn’t erase the image of you in this dress. You looked like a goddess and all he wanted to do now was to worship your whole body. Quickly he remembered that you’re going to a party and started feeling possessive that other men will be looking at you just like he is. Your voice brought him back to reality.

“Okay, I’m ready and you need to leave” You said while putting on your earrings. 

“Do you need a ride to the party?” He asked you but in reality, he just wanted to know where you were going and be sure that you’re safe.

“Yes, you’ll save me some money” You giggled.

You left the bedroom and grabbed your coat from a hanger. Jack followed you and you two left your apartment. You were following him to his car. As a gentleman, he opened the door for you. You gave him the address and focused on the road ahead of you. It was a nice feeling to know that he’s there with you but you felt like he’s doing this as a way to repay that he could talk to you earlier.

“If you want, I can pick you up from the party” You heard his voice. 

“No need, I’m coming home with my friend and I’m staying there for night, but thanks”

Jack dropped you in front of the house where the party was held. You placed your hand on the handle to open the door before Jack stopped you. 

“Let me know after the party that you’re safe… please” You looked at him, shocked that he cares that much about you. 

“Yeah, of course” You replied and just like that, you left him behind walking into the party. 

Jack watched you when you entered the house. He felt jealous that he’s not the one to take you out there or be your plus one. Today’s day made him realise that he has stronger feelings towards you that he would like to admit. Although he started questioning if you also had them looking at how cold you were to him. 

Since the New Year’s Party, you felt like Jack is putting distance between you two. He started talking less to you and you were wondering if you did something wrong. Maybe he’s mad that you didn’t respond to him while he was having a monologue? That was your first thought. You asked him about it but he said that everything is fine.

For you, nothing was fine. Jack was starting to trust you again but now, he was ignoring you. You knew that there’s a tension between you two, when after a tough loss, he hasn't showed up at your place like he was always doing. You wanted to scream at him and get your answers but decided to give him space instead. Two can play this game.

You stopped talking to him. For the past weeks, it was you who always started the conversation and Jack’ replies were dry. You were done with this. If he made up his mind, he’ll text you. One day turned into one week with no message from him. It bothered you but you didn’t want to let him win. 

Jack was confused with his feelings. One part of him wanted to have you close but the other part was scared that he’ll fall for you. He thought that the best thing he could do is to keep you away while he’s trying to figure out things. He felt bad that you’re always the one to talk with him but he didn’t do anything to change it. When you stopped, it finally was a signal for him that he needs to fix it.

You were coming back from work after a tough day. You needed a bath and wine to relax. When you left the elevator, you saw Jack standing in front of your door with flowers in his hands.

“What are you doing here?” You said not even bothered to look at him. You were searching your keys in the purse. 

“I came to apologise but you weren’t home so I waited” You opened the door and walked into your place, he followed you into. “This is for you” He handed you the flowers. You went to grab a vase and put the flowers.

“Thanks” You replied and the two of you stood in awkward silence for a minute. “Are you planning to say something or just came to fuck me?” 

“I just want to say sorry. I’ve been awful for the past couple of weeks and you didn’t deserve it. It's just…” He took a deep breath. “I like you and you're a good friend for me but it feels weird for me to forget about the lie and I needed to think about what we are even doing” He chuckled. “But when you stopped talking to me, I realised that I miss our pointless conversations and just hanging out around you” 

“Let me get this straight. You needed to think if you want me around you because I lied to you and you didn’t know if you can forgive me?” You asked.

“Yeah but as you said this like that, it sounds terrible” He laughed.

“It does” You sighed. “So what are we?” 

“Friends? If you want this of course” 

“I want this” You hugged him. 

“But the sex stays right?” You rolled your eyes at his words. 

“Sure thing. Now if you excuse me I have a date with my bath and wine” 

“How about you take a bath and I’ll order food and we’ll enjoy the night” You smiled at him.

“I would love that”

You prepared your bath and laid in the hot water trying to relax. Instead, Jack’ voice was ringing in your head and his words. You were overthinking the whole situation. In the meantime, he ordered your favorite meal and poured you a glass of wine. He didn’t want to drink because he still needed to return to his apartment. He turned on your favorite movie and waited for you. 

When you stepped out of the bathroom, you dressed up in more comfortable clothes and went to the living room. You saw Jack unpacking your food and smiled at this sign. It felt too good to be true. You sat next to him and the two of you enjoyed the meal and movie. After you finished eating, you started talking about how your life has been lately and joked around. Couple hours later, he left your apartment and you were lost in your thoughts about what the two of you are.

Last two months were interesting to say. You and Jack after a major argument and his ghosting finally returned on the right track. Everything was going smoothly for both of you and you felt like he’s trusting you again after the conversation when he returned from Boston. Your feelings for him came back like a boomerang and this time, you didn’t want to mess up. 

Jack opened his heart for you again. It was a tough process for him but last month helped him to realise that you’re his true friend. He needed to have you around because even if you were on the opposite side in his sports life, you were always next to him in his private life and that was the most important thing for him. 

---

Next Chapter

[black-hybris]

Some lesser known facts about B.C Spree Killer Bryer Schmegelsky.

A lot of this information is difficult to find a source for as it originally came from a facebook group that has since been deleted. Bryer’s father once upon a time was very active and divulged some information about his son in these groups back in the day and still has a twitter account that you can find most of this info on if you look/search (if you can stomach his politics lol) It’s a public account so go nuts but I do suggest leaving the man alone.

1. Bryer supposedly had Marfan’s Syndrome, and Dyspraxia as well as some learning disabilities. His father Alan once upon a time stated that Bryer had difficulty holding a pen because his dyspraxia was so severe. (I love my disabled king)

2. He had stretch marks on his stomach that he was insecure about (due to the Marfan’s),this led to his dad renting out a pool at the hotel he’d stay at when visiting Bryer so he wouldn’t be as insecure. This was until the hotel began raising rates for repeat customers.

3. When he was a child he was a fan of scooby doo.

4. He had a cat named KiKi when he was little.

5. Before Bryer and Kam set out on their road trip, Bryer had asked out Kam’s sister (no wonder he shot him lol) and was rejected, supposedly he had done it multiple times in the past and this time Kam’s sister told Kam about it and Kam told Bryer to stop. This supposedly upset him.

6. Interestingly enough, just like Eric Harris, Bryer had developed an identification with Nazi ideology and you can see this well enough in his online presence, having used multiple swastika’s as profile pictures (his pinterest, steam, etc. There is a reddit group for this case with these links r/KamAndBryer.

7. Also just like Harris, he had an interest in the military, according to his father he had wanted to join the Canadian military.

8. Supposedly he was diagnosed with suicidal depression at the age of 14 and his mother allegedly pulled him out of school for this reason, despite early reports of him having graduated, he did not.

9. I think this one’s fairly big. His father leaked his autopsy report. I will possibly post this at some point but you can find it fairly easy on your own.

10. Bryer and Kam would often go to Kam’s house to play airsoft together, as it was in the countryside.

11. Bryer’s teacher had encouraged that he see a occupational therapist before he start school to address some of his disabilites, and before dropping out of school was in special education. Some people who went to school with him attested in an old reddit comment that he had to have the computer read to him as he couldn’t do it himself, keep in mind this part is hearsay but it lines up with what everyone else has stated.

12. Bryer and Kam had gotten into a vehicle accident April 14th, 2018. According to Alan, it was a rollover due to reckless driving on Kam Mcleod’s part. Bryer sustained bruises, but supposedly Kam’s ear was torn and sustained head injuries. Kam had to be rescued from the truck with the Jaw’s of Life.

13. Supposedly (according to his father) his mother spent money on the tattoo found on his chest as a gift. Technically it’s a Kolovrat, but given his affection for nazi ideology…lets be honest with ourselves on what it's supposed to represent lol.

14. From my understanding Bryer’s grandfather died from the Red Cross tainted blood scandal, the Canadian government refused to compensate Bryer’s father for this loss, shaping a good amount of familial trauma.

15. ALLEGEDLY his mother was abusive, Bryer went to live with his dad in Victoria (without his mother’s consent), she called the police and they forcefully took him back to Port Alberni and subsequently kicked him out of her house, he then went on to live with his grandmother. I say ALLEGEDLY as she never spoke out about what happened or her side of the story (and honestly I don't blame her considering how malicious people can be). 

16. Bryer’s father reported abuse/neglect to the Ministry of Children in British Columbia, his case worker was his mother’s boyfriends brother in law, arguably a conflict of interest.

17. Some believe that the RCMP are actually the ones responsible for the boy's deaths rather than the conclusion that Kam shot Bryer before killing himself (including Bryer's dad on again off again, he seems to keep going back and forth between whether or not Kam murdered him unconsensually or if it was the RCMP). I personally don’t think that is true but welcome the skepticism as it keeps the case alive, after all, the RCMP deserves criticism for their lack of transparency that arguably led to Leonard Dyck’s death.

18. Bryer had a stutter, I actually managed to find this video back in 2020 and Alan confirmed that this voice is his. He speaks at these approximate times (His user is: Bryerbrown123). 5:13, 6:54, 7:10, 7:16, 7:29/7:31 (Mother of slur lol), 8:31, 8:43, 8:50 and 8:52, 8:57 (I may have missed some.) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tCOn_1kwE_s&t=322s&ab_channel=LeoGrandThio 

[the-ace-with-spades]

(this is inspired by a buddie post but doesn't relate at all to 911)

for once, they're not exes, they're could've-beens

The Daggers are loitering around the Hard Deck a few months after the mission and somehow the topic rolls onto how they all met each other

One way or another, Bob admits he had a huge crush on Phoenix for like the first few weeks when they met

And everyone teases him to the point he's getting a bit shy, so to not overdo it on him, Fanboy pops in and says that, Hey, I had a huge crush on Reuben when we met during training as well, it's not that bad.

And instead, everyone moans that it doesn't count because they're married and Payback is all 'oh you had a crush on me? that's so embarrassing' while Fanboy just rolls his eyes at him.

So Fritz is like, 'Pretty sure everyone on base but Halo knew I had a crush on her, I just kept saying the stupidest shit around her,' which prompts Harvard and Yale to quote more and more outrageous sentences while Halo nearly snorts up the beer she's drinking

Bob is still really red and really quiet so Phoenix, attempting to get him to relax about the whole thing and not make a big deal out of it is like, 'Yeah, it's normal, lots of people have crushes on their co-workers, especially when they spend hours on end together. Look at Bradshaw over here, he used to be Mr. Heart Eyes for Hangman, you could've done much worse."

Before she realizes that, you know, no one was supposed to know this, it's already out of her mouth.

Bradley kicks her under the table and fucking freezes, avoidings anyone's gaze and bites down the urge to bang his head on the table.

Because, you know, back when he and Jake were still in training, they had what Jake thought was a friendly rivalry - it was actually just Bradley doing stupid shit to impress him and it flying over, figuratively and literally, Jake's oblivious head. They spent a lot of time together and it was very easy for Bradley to let himself just be in the moment and not think about the crush thing so he kinda ignored and ignored and before he knew it, it had been years.

Shit changed when Jake started ditching their after-work meet-ups to hook up with one of the flight engineers with whom he developed a bit of a coworkers-with-benefits relationship. And Bradley had to watch and hear about it on almost every occasion, every day.

Bradley said to himself that enough is enough because the crush was becoming embarrassingly not-crush-like and he decided he was not being that lame and would move on. Easier said than done - he tried to distance himself but he and Jake worked together every day and were friends so eventually all Bradley could do was the good old out of sight, out of mind method and he transferred without telling Jake.

Which is why Jake was so pissed with him. Because, well, Bradley was the closest thing he had to a best friend before he met Javy, and he just left Jake behind without explanation, one day there, the next one already in Japan, like it was nothing. (Jake does not realize that but he did actually have a bit of a crush on Bradley back then as well, he certainly didn't see him the same way he sees Javy...)

So, no, Jake was never supposed to find out, definitely not now when they're kinda friends again.

So, when very disbelieving You had a crush on Hangman? is thrown at him a few times and Jake is just staring at him from across the table saying nothing, Bradley pulls a lie out of his ass.

"He had a nice ass, nice smile, and very nice tits. I was young and stupid. It's not that big of deal."

It raises some eyebrows and snickers. "Seriously?"

"I found him hot, what's so surprising in that? We all have eyes."

There is a second of confusion but then everyone kinda nods along because, well, Jake is objectively attractive. "I thought he was hot, I wanted to impress him but instead we just got into a pissing contest of who is better at this or that and then I just, moved on."

"So, when did you stop crushing on him?"

"When I realized how big of a mouth he had on him," Bradley says, which is the biggest lie he's ever said - he liked Jake's big mouth an embarrassing amount. "Just couldn't stop yapping on and on."

This finally fucking awakes Jake enough to protest, "I don't yap."

And thankfully, the topic smoothly moves onto bullying Jake.

Bradley ignores the whole fucking thing because if he doesn't, he's going to get bitter, and if he gets bitter, he'll have to admit to himself why. And he's moved on, okay, he was fine all this years he's spent in Japan, he's fine now. It's not like Jake would ever give him a second glance anyway.

Meanwhile, Jake comes back home that night and can't sleep. Because Bradley thought he was hot. Bradley had a crush on him.

Or rather Bradley had thought Jake was hot, Bradley had a crush on him - past tense. He didn't even know this was an option and now he missed it, apparently by years.

And he can't stop thinking about it because he could have Bradley and he keeps imagining how their life could look right now if he didn't miss his chance when he had it. And every time he sees Bradley, he gets a reminder - it's all past tense, chance missed, nothing he can do about it, Bradley had moved on.

And Bradley notices that Jake is now acting weird around him, all quite and staring at him when he thinks he can't notice but avoiding him as best as he can any other time. And Bradley can only find one variable that changed just as Jake's started getting weird around him - and that's finding out that Bradley had a crush on him.

So that's great.

[confused-disaster32]

hi I'm here regarding your tags: Cara's terminal illness? He's not having a good time with it but the presence of his rash means he's in secondary stage, which comes prior to latent, asymptomatic phase. The vast majority of people who suffer from syphilis don't actually live long enough for any other reason to EVER hit the tertiary stage which causes death. I think it's safe to say Caracalla's immune system is weak as all hell and he probably won't be that lucky, but he has the best part of his infection ahead - the part where it stops existing, sometimes for decades, before coming back with a vengeance. In theory, if he made it through the fevers and the rest of all that is going wrong with him in the time we get to know him, eventually, it would ease up. For years.

Also, without Macrinus - Geta was actually coming to learn to play the crowds. He listened to Lucilla when Lucilla chose mercy for Lucius against their rhino rider. He hesitates to make the call to the archers - despite all of his rage and hurt - when Lucius refuses to execute Acacius on command. Without Macrinus egging him on, he was hearing the crowd. Despite everything.

This is such a cope but it's also all true. They had hope. They're so goddamn young, but they were going through their hard lessons, and at least one of them was learning. The other one needed bed rest and antibiotics.

Oh - the terminal part I tagged that mostly cause I saw someone else who tagged it the same way and saw that syphilis could possibly get to a worst stage which I knew you could treat with antibiotics nowadays but wasn't entirely sure what happened back then when that wasn't really a thing.. (though I'll admit that I should've done a bit more of a search before that because I don't have a very in depth knowledge of how syphilis works and didn't know how long syphilis takes to get to the terminal point) - and honestly I'm still kinda learning a lot about their characters, which is why I honestly adore your posts though I do still always feel quite awkward/bad whenever I mischaracterise them cause they're genuinely such wonderful characters and I think sometimes I'm a bit too caught up with what they were in the films (manipulated and therefore not rlly having a great time...) and I don't give enough time to think about what they could've been had things gone different ways such as if Geta had had a chance to continue to grow as a person/emperor without Macrinus messing around in the background (though I was mostly basing that tag off of the fact that on the night of Geta's death people were really starting to riot and I didn't think enough about the fact that those rioters don't even get in that night cause like the next day Caracalla has a chance to announce the new consuls and eventually continue with the games and stuff - so my brain decided to just hand me a scenario that wasn't even all that canon compliant in the first place).

Idk if I'm actually getting my thoughts down as much as I'd like bc it's a little late for me rn but

Thank u for this tho bc I much prefer when someone tells me when I'm off then they just let me be cause I hate it when I accidentally mischaracterise a character esp if I'm fond of them 😭

[paperstarwriters]

Ugh I’m not great at just randomly posting without like planning and structuring the fic beforehand but I NEED to talk about him. To soothe my soul really.

Just—Muriel. Muriel and sitting not on his lap, but between his thighs, thick and meaty, bracketing your own hips as he leans his chest against your back and head. Maybe he’s settled down behind you to read what you’re reading. Maybe he’s opted to sit like this while e carves rather than sitting back-to-back. Either way, the habit starts as many do with warmth radiating from Muriel’s cheeks, but maybe less so than usual, less so than before, because he’s been with you long enough—long enough to be comfortable like this at least. To just… bracket you—blanket you. Lean atop your shoulders and wrapped around you like a child hugging their favourite plush. Maybe you’ve done that to him before, while you sit on the bed and he sits on the floor, or perhaps while he’s in a seat while you’re standing, just leaning over his shoulders. And maybe this is him returning the gesture.

Either way, as many cozy cuddly things do, this becomes habit. Ritual even. That if you ever sit down on the floor or on the bed in Muriel’s proximity, he’ll drape himself over and around you to cuddle as you work or read or whatever really.

He talks to you like that sometimes. Mundane things really. Like how he enjoyed his day with you, or how it’s really important for you to drink water—please stop forgetting, no coffee doesn't count. And sometimes he rests with his chin atop your head, and other times he leans in to say the things to your cheek, or even whisper it in your ear. He doesn’t mean anything by it most of the time, just whispering because he doesn't want to so harshly break the comfortable silence around you, but sometimes, just sometimes, he does like watching you squirm.

It sends something electric to his chest. Makes his face grow warm from the combination of shame and delight. Shame that he’s trying so selfishly to poke and prod at you like this to make you embarrassed just for his own enjoyment, that he’s still so anxious that he feels the need to test and see if you have the same reaction as he does to your mere presence. And of course delight every time it’s conformed—every time you squirm against his chest almost making him grin at the notion that for once he’s embarrassing you by doing nothing but cuddling a little. He’s still red faced when he does it, still averts his eyes trying not to be too happy at tormenting you, but so long as you don’t turn it back on him—don’t call out his obvious delight, he won’t pout.

Then again, even if you do he’ll smile eventually anyways, your own affectionate glee too infectious not to.

But like I can’t help but imagine how one day you might just be sitting between his legs like that, him draped over and around you while you chat. He interjects occasionally giving input when in short sparse bursts and the occasional thorough explanation, but at some point the conversation comes to a lull, a soft cozy silence that isn’t loathed in such comfortable company, but you still choose to break it regardless, not even trying to turn when you speak to him.

And maybe it’s a confession of love for the umpteenth time (though he'd never tire from it), maybe it’s a worm of some tender insecurity rearing it’s head, or maybe it’s Muriel, who’s had a bad day or a bad week, feeling shitty and horrible and loathing himself in that silent way he sometimes does, and you tell him that you can see him. That you know that it’s hard, that it’s awful, but you see that he’s trying too, and you’re so proud of him. So proud that he’s trying. That he cares for himself enough to try instead of shutting down and letting the hurt just consume him, and that you're always around if he needs some help, that he needn't shoulder the burden all by himself, no matter how much his broad shoulders can carry.

And either way the reaction is the same. He pulls away just for a moment, struck by your words—either appalled that you think so lowly of yourself or awed at such a blatant and earnest display of your love for him—before he presses a kiss to your neck. Once, maybe twice. Three times or even more if he's feeling particularly greedy, or if it seems to make you happy (so often three or more times lmao) And it's not just rapid little fluttery kisses, though it often devolves into that. But he'll start slowly, lovingly. Devoting his kisses to some tender spot along your neck that he's long since memorized, perhaps the ridge of your spine, or the soft column of tissue between your neck and your collarbone, or the tender patches of skin just behind your ear. And each kiss he gives with such reverence, such adoration and love—the same way he loves to do when he presses his lips to yours.

And at some point he curls against you, brushes his lips to your ear, and with that low rumbling voice, that you can feel as you rest your back against his chest, he'll say, "Thank you" if your words had been loving, or "I disagree." if it was something cruel to yourself. Either way, he's squeezing you tighter between his arms and legs, like he's worried you might leave him somehow. That you might try to squirm from his grasp even as you make your delight so blatantly clear. And while there is a thread of that thought that ties itself round his chest, it's more that he needs you to stay in place. So long as you stay where you are—so long as you you don't turn around, so long as you don't call him out for how red his face is, how embarrassing it is that he's so affected by you, so delighted when you show how much you love him, how upset he feels when he hears you don't view yourself the same way he sees you... so long as you don't look at him it's easier to tell you. Not to mention, it's so much easier to be honest when no one is watching him, when he isn't worried that he'd disappoint you somehow or make a fool of himself.

Most importantly though, it keeps him from getting distracted. Because it is. Distracting, that is. So very distracting to watch you watch him, eyes narrowing in on all those spots on him that he once might have hated, but now appreciates if only because you so vehemently adore. His chest and stomach for one; once markers of how large he was—how large he is—have become a point you often like to stare at. Eyes trailing down when his shirt is off, igniting in him that familiar, embarrassed, delight. And in the same way coals still able to start a fire anew with the right kindling, the thoughts set his mind alight with thoughts of what you'd so eagerly love to do to him if he let you. What he'd so eagerly let you do if you were willing.

The mere memory of your kisses all over his stomach and chest—and the one bite you pressed to his chest, right atop his heart, like you were trying to swallow what was already yours—oh it made his mind swirl, made his face grow beet red at even the vaguest memory.

So as long as you couldn't so easily reciprocate. So long as your back was to him. He finally would get to give back to you. To litter loving longing, dizzying kisses of his own against your skin. Against wherever he could reach, against whatever you would expose for him. Make you shiver and squirm in the way he often did for you. Make you keen or gasp or whine when he bit you, teasingly perhaps, or longingly, when the urge to carve a place for himself beneath your skin—safely tucked beside your heart—grows far too fierce. Never enough to hurt of course, every bite always followed with more kisses to your skin like an apology for even leaving the imprint of his teeth on your flesh.

Ah, but as much as he wants to keep you from watching him, to keep you from distracting him with your loving wandering eyes, he still will always crave the chance to kiss you, to feel you kiss him. To press his lips against your own, and cling to you like you were the very air that would fill his lungs with life. And whether that happen when you finally turn to peer at him, or when he tilts your head back guiding you with a warm hand against your cheek, he all to eagerly slots himself in the slight part between your lips, all too eager to just kiss.

Just for a second perhaps, or however many minutes it takes for you to loose your breaths, he doesn't care how long it lasts, so long as he gets to hold you after, so long as you let him bask in the glory of getting to love you, of getting feeling what it's like to be adored from the bottom of your heart.

Just stay here, with his arms wrapped greedily around you, and his thighs bracketing your hips. A full body embrace.

Ah, a Bear hug really.

[mylovesstuffs]

Jin version !

Request: May I pls request jealousy headcanons for BTS members? reader (she's not famous and has a normal job) thinks of them as just friends, cause she never thought they would have a crush on her but they do.Then one day they get jealous when she ignores them for her guy best friend (whom she has a crush on) so they force her to leave but can't confess because they know she only likes them as a friend? unfortunately I am not very good with handling angsty stuff 🥹 so it will be great if you could write some fluffier headcanons about my request

A/N: This is the first post of the series, I hope it's not as bad as I say 😭 it's not the best I know but I'll try my best to improve. I don't know why it didn't turn out like I hoped for.

series masterlist

This is my personal opinion and perspective. It may not accurately reflect their real-life personalities or behaviors.

Jin always tries to be the reliable friend—the one who makes you laugh, gives great advice, and checks in after a long day. But lately, he’s felt like second place to your guy best friend.

He notices how you light up when you talk about your best friend. It stings more than he’d like to admit, but Jin tries to brush it off with jokes like, “Oh, should I start taking notes from him?”

You’ve canceled plans with Jin a few times now, always saying, “I promised g/bsf I’d help him with something.” He plays it cool but spends the rest of the day eating snacks in front of the TV, sulking and grumbling under his breath.

Jin’s jealousy doesn’t make him angry—it makes him hurt. He wonders what your best friend has that he doesn’t, or why you’d never think of him as more than a friend. Am I just not boyfriend material? he mumbles to himself. (Jin, my love, you're not boyfriend material unfortunately instead... you're a husband material)

He gets extra clingy the next time you hang out—offering to cook your favorite dish, teasing you more than usual, and even pulling out his dad jokes just to get your attention lmao.

When you’re with your guy best friend in Jin’s presence, he turns into the ultimate performer. Suddenly, he’s louder, funnier, and more dramatic—ANYTHING to distract you from your best friend.

One day, he snaps when you ignore him mid-conversation to reply to your best friend’s text. Jin blurts out, “Do I have to be him to get your attention?” It catches both of you off guard, and he immediately regrets saying it. *insert skeleton emoji here TT*

Feeling cornered by his emotions, Jin suggests leaving early from your next hangout. “I just remembered I have to be at the studio,” he lies, not wanting to see you fawn over someone else anymore.

He tries to convince himself he’s being selfish. She’s happy, he tells himself. That should be enough for me. But it’s not, and the ache in his chest doesn’t go away.

Jin throws himself into his work, making himself busier than usual to avoid thinking about you and your best friend. Other BTS members notice his uncharacteristic silence and try to pry, but he just brushes it off with a laugh.

One day, you sense something’s off. Jin has been distant—short replies, fewer calls, and even declining an invite to hang out. You confront him, worried you might have done something wrong.

Jin doesn’t confess outright but hints at his feelings. “Sometimes, I feel like I’m not important to you,” he says with a sad smile. It’s the first time he’s ever let his guard down like this, and it leaves you speechless. (Obviously)

You spend the next few days reflecting on your friendship with Jin. You start noticing the little things—how he remembers your coffee order, how he texts you to make sure you got home safe, and how he always seems to know when you need cheering up.

The realization hits you like a truck: Jin isn’t just your friend. He’s the constant in your life, the person who makes you feel safe and valued in a way no one else ever has.

The next time you see him, you decide to test the waters by spending the day with just him. Jin is hesitant at first, worried you’re only there out of guilt, but your warmth and attention slowly ease his nerves.

1By the end of the day, you find yourself looking at Jin differently... like your feelings have finally been reciprocated. When he makes a lame joke, you don’t just laugh—you admire the way his eyes crinkle when he smiles. When he cooks for you, you realize how much love he’s poured into every detail.

Jin doesn’t push you to admit anything, but the shift between you two is undeniable. It’s in the lingering glances, the subtle touches, and the way he prioritize you in his noised life. Neither of you says it out loud, but for the first time, you feel like you have a chance.

Closure: It ends with hope. Jin doesn’t need grand confessions; your actions are enough to show him you’re starting to see him the way he’s always seen you. And for now, that’s all he needs...

Now that you’ve started seeing him differently, Jin becomes even more attentive. He insists on cooking you meals, saying, A love as great as mine deserves a feast. He also gets flustered when you sneak up behind him in the kitchen, wrapping your arms around him. His ears turn red, but he plays it off with a smug.

Jin loves teasing you about your newfound affection for him. He’ll smirk and you roll your eyes, but your shy smile gives you away every time, and he EATS IT UP.

He’s a natural flirt but doesn’t even realize it half the time 😭 Like when he adjust your necklace, his voice dropping to a low, teasing tone. It leaves you breathless, and he definitely notices.

He runs his fingers through your hair absentmindedly, but the way his touch lingers on your shoulder or arm feels a little more intentional these days.

Jin doesn’t try to be sexy—it just happens. Like when he’s focused while rolling up his sleeves (I'm sorry but I'm drooling) or wiping his hands on a towel, you catch yourself staring. He notices your lingering gaze, smirks, and says, “Like what you see?” (OF COURSE WE DO!!?!?!!!!!!!!!?!!)

Mornings with Jin are pure fluff. He’s sleepy and cuddly, pulling you back into bed if you try to get up too early. He mumbles, “Five more minutes,” but those minutes turn into hours because he’s so warm and inviting you can’t resist.

Now that he knows you like him, Jin is more physically affectionate. He’ll casually rest his hand on your lower back, tug you closer when crossing the street, or kiss your temple as he passes by. It’s subtle but so Jin coded.

Honestly, nowadays his cocky side is very attractive.

Jin in cozy sweaters is a problem. When he’s lounging at home in a soft, oversized knit, you can’t help but want to curl up next to him. He teases you for staring, but secretly, he loves how smitten you are.

He doesn’t openly flaunt it, but there’s something undeniably attractive about the way he carries himself. Whether it’s his low, rumbling laugh or the way he looks at you across the room, there’s a quiet intensity that leaves you flustered.

Kissing Expert™: Once you’re comfortable, Jin’s kisses go from sweet and soft to take-your-breath-away levels of intense. He’s got this way of cupping your face and pulling you in like he’s waited his whole life for this moment.

Jin being Jin, he’ll occasionally get dramatic about how much he loves you. “I’d battle an army of chickens for you,” he declares one day, and while you laugh at his comment, the sincerity in his eyes makes your heart skip a beat.

Even when he’s being playful or teasing, Jin’s actions always make you feel safe and cherished. Like holding your hand in a crowded place or softly humming a song while you’re together, every little thing he does says, “I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere.”

[artyandink]

Wait, hold on. I have left this alone, I sweat to fucking God. This anon isn't me, there are a ton of Dean fics out there! I haven't seen your Clark fics around, I've only recently started Smallville for crying out loud, I'm only on season 2, is it WRONG to watch a tv series and like it?

I'm also sick of this. Because I've tried time and time again to prove that this wasn't me, and I've tried to make friends to make up for it but you've reached out to them or told them everything. Before I was extremely understanding of why you did not want to talk to me, but now I can't even express my ideas without being called out, which makes it feel like harassment.

Can you explain why no one else on this site has ever had this problem with me? Can you prove that it was definitely ME behind the screen, no! I've left you alone, but I've left fic series' of mine that were posted during that time because I'm afraid of being called out for it.

I NEVER thought you were an enemy. And I cannot stress this enough, I HAVE NEVER SEEN YOUR STUFF SINCE THE INCIDENT. Before I was understanding and now I'm angry, cause I tried to move on from this shit like I was told to but looks like I can't cause the moment I find a new fandom apparently I'm copying you. Tell me what about my fics is copying yours when it's all an original thought.

Naming two people Bonnie and Clyde was NEVER because of you. I seriously don't know where that thought came from. That was an original thought that came from my own brain because I KNOW ABOUT THE TROPE. As for the bots, I haven't been searching your account since the incident, and I'm seriously sorry that I can't prove it otherwise I would. The Clark ones were done in prep for Pandora, I DIDN'T EVEN KNOW. SERIOUSLY, STOP SAYING I'M STALKING ALL YOUR THINGS WHEN YOU DON'T HAVE SURE FIRE VIDEO PROOF THAT YEAH I DID IT.

Can I PLEASE exist in peace for the love of God? I'm losing friends LEFT AND RIGHT because of this when it truly never was me. People who have known me longer on this site know that I would never do this, and I've found the now ex friend of mine and confronted her. I've changed my password, sought out a therapist even though I'm not insane. If you want me to leave this alone truly, I need you to LEAVE ME ALONE. I HAVE NOT LOOKED AT YOUR ACCOUNT. I CAN'T SEE IT. I haven't even mentioned your name to anyone following when I was blasted for even using it, I've been minding my own business. So whatever you have seen is MY OWN THOUGHTS.

And stop blasting that poor anon, cause whoever they were, they probably weren't looking for my fic.

the amount of times i've had to address this because she literally will not fucking stop is insane. @artyandink, for the last fucking time, leave me alone <3 stop coming in my inbox anonymously trying to get me to talk about your fics & promote them thinking i can't tell it's you. stop asking to use my ideas even after you've BEEN BLOCKED. stop keeping tabs on me to see what i'm writing for now so you can start writing for it. i'm dead serious it's about to give me a fucking aneurysm.

it is not subtle. and as stupid as you think i am, from the way you did all of this & are still fucking continuing, you sure do like the things i put out! i am noticing it. people are SHOWING me it. move the fuck on. find your own voice! stop trying to steal mine and what i'm writing about. i'm tired of speculating on why you are doing this and just want it to fucking END.

writing clark kent & making bots for him just because i started it is fucking mental. naming people in your fic bonnie & clyde after the au that i made that you asked to use, and still did anyways even if it was private, when i said no is MENTAL.

on this note, anyone that follows me that also supports or interacts with arty, please show yourselves out, too. if you want to know why, look here & here since i've had to address this publicly three times now. but i'm tired of going about my life & pretending that over on her side of the internet, she's not STILL taking my ideas, or using the ones that she already has, because she doesn't have a single original bone in her body.

no! i do not know about your bodyguard & president fanfic, arty! because i did not ever actually fucking read it!

and if by the grace of god, somehow, this isn't you ( which is highly doubtable ) i'm sorry to these anons that this two faced, five identitied grown woman has made me this weary to have to respond like this. i am not usually hostile, i don't think, but constantly having her shit in my dms, having her try to make me promote her shit, is INSANE.

i have moved on. you are the one that cannot keep my name out of your mouth to other people trying to salvage your fall from grace, saying that whatever i'm saying isn't true, and then coming into my messages the one other time within EIGHT MINUTES of me unblocking you, saying that you're so sorry that this is happening and feigning ignorance. go to hell. i tried to handle this civilly and privately and every single time instead you took to your tumblr feed to try and paint me as a bad guy, or discredit everything that YOU PUT ME THROUGH. so truly, go to hell <3 and actually fucking listen to me and leave me alone. i do not talk about you or think about you when you're not actively doing this shit, so stop monitoring my account and especially stop stalking my cai just because i cant block you on there.

and while you're at it, find some creativity on your own. it'd do you some good in the long run to actually make something yourself and not piggyback off of others & their success and THEIR WORKS.

[thenightisland]

already 12k into a Thing and decided to do a word count on the rest of the /outline/ rip me

[goldkirk]

I don’t know how to explain any more clearly that it doesn’t MATTER if it seems legitimate to you. You have got to fact check every single headline and post and claim on the left just like you need to do on the right.

The left is NOT immune to misinformation and rushed reporting. And the more emotionally polarizing or shocking the talking points, sound bytes, and headlines are, the worse it is and more frequently it happens.

Learn to verify through multiple independent sources. If you can’t do that, you can’t trust it.

If you have to wait extra hours for the real information to come through vetted channels—NOT just one individual somewhere everyone links to, and not just one single media source either, EVEN if it’s a major news network—thats just how it has to be. What news outside of genuine local disasters near you TRULY needs your outrage and post-sharing in the next hour specifically?

Misinformation works best by not seeming like misinformation and by fitting in with the rest of what you already expect to see. It doesn’t help anyone to not be able to recognize and avoid the stuff.

[al-luviec]

still haven't moved on from zane in this episode (aka I hit tag limit again and am unhappy about it)

[deus-ex-mona]

up next on chapter 36 of idol sengen… _(:3 」∠)_

[shiryawashere]

you ever miss your comfort character so bad you gotta go outside about it

[lesbianclaryfray]

“actually ivy is CANON BISEXUAL in main continuity” and the “source” is 2 completely different continuities, a screenrant article citing a source that does not exist, and her “relationship” with her groomer