#which won't be easy with hundreds of responses

[rookflower]

do you have any results to share from the wc fan survey?

ive been busyyy sorry. I'll try to close it soon 😭

[kryptznnn]

♡/♛- It's Been A While

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➸ INTERESTS; -mha!shouta aizawa x quirk-using!freader

➸ BACKGROUND; - after an attack at the high school you studied in, you were requested by your work firm and the firm of that school to work as a teacher there for extra security, incase an attack were to occur again to protect the students (and teachers). Unfortunately, it won't be as easy as you expected when you rekindle with old friends, and a specific someone.

➸ WARNINGS; - wc. 2.1k uu slow burn, second chance, ex-lovers, medication/pill usage, dissociation, anxiety mentions.

➸a.i; - omg new category!! im working a lot guys brace w me!! ill be working on other masterlists and stories and such trustttt, also this is going to be a fanfic!! no more one-shots sorry for the torture

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♡/♛- It's Been A While Masterlist

"Please, there has to be some other way. I'm already busy enough here, this is way out of my league." You complained, tossing your hands up in the air.

"There is no other way" your supervisor responded, you sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of your nose.

"There's no one else available to take on this job?" You asked your boss, who only nodded as he sat at his table with crossed arms.

This was unbelievable, you of all people in this city and they choose you. You're one of the busiest women out there, especially outside of your so called 'once in a blue moon hero duty'. You're part of a government organization for fuck's sake, your entire job is to stay under wraps. You had people who depended on you, a firm to carry on your shoulders as second in command to your chief, just to give it all up to become a teacher back at your high school.

"As of now the school could use all the extended help they can get. You have connections to the school and have learned there before, plus all other heroes with solid quirks that would work in their favor are either already working there or are too busy to be there for hours on end, but you can." He said in a cool tone, handing you all of the paperwork and pointing to the amount of damage and casualties that happened during the accident, you only closed your eyes and shook your head.

"Okay" you said softly, picking up the papers and stacking them in order, placing them in your folder and shoving the folder in your work bag, not wanting to argue. He thanked you for your cooperation and told you you'd start the beginning of next week, Monday. Today was Thursday, giving you a little time to mentally prepare yourself for what was to come.

Of course, as any normal person you were curious, thousands of questions running through your mind which you were sure you'd get answers to during the tour and explanation that was awaiting you over the weekend.

You weren't too concerned about working or teaching students, you'd already knew all about them and had also known you'd cover a chemistry class, you were concerned about using your quirk.

The last time you had used it in the face of danger, things didn't end well for you. It's a great quirk yes, but the aftermath and side effects of it always left a heavy toll on you.

It truly was an accident, well not really. It was ruled out as a case of self-defense and your firm was to cover the damages. You were out with a friend from work until a large commotion was heard outside, where you two had stepped out, ready to leap into action and help whoever was in need.

Apparently, it was a hijack situation on a train in the city, that was now approaching downtown at an insane amount of speed. Your friend had already agreed she'd help escort people out of the way and into safer zones, in case the bus had crashed in the area you and hundreds of other people were in.

You nodded in response, quickly thinking what around you could've been useful to possibly slow it down or bring it to a stop in time to call for reinforcements.

Unfortunately, a child had wandered off into the middle of the road ahead of you without realizing it, and without thinking you ran up, covering her with your body and you held out your hand to shield her, shutting your eyes tightly and using your quirk.

Unintentionally, you had now turned the train into water, wetting you and all other people downtown that were trying to avoid the train crash. Thankfully for you the train was a rather medium sized one, so the water produced from the train by your quirk hadn't caused any damage downtown.

You quickly stood up with the little girl by your side, who quickly ran to accompany her mother once she spotted her in the crowd. You stood there in awe, looking at everyone else and turning back around, seeing the hijackers now sitting on the floor, dripping from head to toe in water.

You were slightly relieved, thankful you hadn't turned them into water. Soon after your friend accompanied you to, tying up the three troublemakers and leaving them off to the side and awaiting law-enforcement to arrive.

Having the powers of matter transmutation meant the world was your canvas, all you had to do was touch it. Creating any matter, you had into something you wanted to, but the only downside being that you weren't able to convert things to people or animals, whether living or not.

You didn't necessarily see it as a bad side, it honestly could be a blessing in disguise, especially since you had such a wild imagination when you were younger.

As you grabbed your belongings from your office and made your way back to your car you began to think about your first day working at the high school.

You loved children, well... most of them. Teenagers now were such pains in the ass, and you've had your fair share with a few, either being rude, weird, or just freaky horn-dogs that obviously weren't loved enough by their parents.

Hopefully things wouldn't go back when you start, and you didn't have to use your quirk as often as all other teachers in the school do.

Unlocking the door to your car you opened it and placed your bag inside as you sat in the driver's seat, starting your car and driving off back to your apartment.

After around 5 to 10 minutes of driving you stop at a red light, resting your head back onto your seat with a sigh, mentally drained for the day. As you waited for the light to change color you felt as if a pair of eyes were on you, before you were able to turn around and see who it was the light had turned green, you only shrugged it off and drove off, keeping your mind on how Monday would be.

Maybe it was the students or the teachers, but an uneasy feeling rested in your stomach, making you feel wheezy. It definitely was the thought of the teachers, more or so your new colleagues.

Well not new colleagues, more like old friends and companions. You knew them all well enough, being classmates and close friends back in high school and distancing after graduation and everyone else focusing on going professional in the hero department.

You had always envisioned yourself as a hero there, waiting to fight side by side with everyone, but towards the end you realized that without having proper control of your quirk you were probably safe enough to not do so. Protecting yourself and everyone else in case of an accident or any immediate dangers.

Guilt slowly began to eat you alive as you arrived in the parking lot of your apartment complex, parking and shutting your car off before taking a deep breath and exhaling sharply.

This was not going to go your way, and you know it.

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It was now Monday morning and honestly, that 3-day weekend wasn't enough to prepare yourself for what was to come. You hadn't gotten any sleep from the night before out of overthinking, and honestly you weren't even tired.

Your brain's constant buildup of stress has been keeping you up for a while and was the right amount of motivation you needed to get this day over with. You had gone to the small training practices and tours of the school over the weekend, seeing new buildings and practice rooms that were extended from when you previously attended.

You had decided to get ready 2 hours in advance, showering and now doing a small amount of skincare before doing your makeup. Even with your quirk and all of the stuff you'd bought for your skin, even the thought of stress makes you begin to breakout, you sighed as a pimple appeared on the upper left corner of your forehead. You only shook your head and began to apply your makeup, finishing a little later than you expected because you couldn't decide if you wanted lashes on or not.

You made the decision to wear them, first impressions are everything. You fixed your hair in a style you liked, deciding to keep it down instead of a ponytail with a side part and gathered your things and looked in the mirror one last time before exiting out the door.

The closer and closer you were getting to the school the more your stomach churned out of anxiety. It could've been anxiety, or maybe the fact you skipped out on breakfast just to be here early, as all teachers must arrive before the students. Whatever it was you didn't like it at all, and you felt your head begin to spin.

"Not again" you whispered to yourself, now opening your glove department looking around for your prescribed medications, pushing past the other 3 you didn't need now until you found one that read 'Valium', opening the capsule and taking a pill, realizing you had nothing to take or drink it down with.

You sighed heavily as you took the bottle with you, grabbing your coat from the back of your driver seat along with your bag and shoving the pills in your coat pocket. Soon locking your car and placing your keys in the bag as well, beginning to walk your way over to the building.

You needed to find something to drink so you could take this pill, before your anxiety gets the best of you and your quirk gets out of hand. You reached for your phone in your pocket and checked the time, barely 7:30, perfect. It's too early for classes to start when everyone gets situated at 8:00-8:10, where could you kill time with a cup of water or anyth-

The teachers' lounge, oh yeah, it's shocking how quickly you forgot about it when you were here not even 48 hours ago. You walked inside taking a left, praying your memory wasn't playing tricks on you as you walked over to the supposed teachers' lounge, hearing small chatter and commotion.

The last thing you wanted to do was draw attention onto yourself, you quickly entered and made your way to the back, walking slowly praying your heeled boots didn't make too loud of a noise.

You quickly spotted a large fancy water dispenser, clasping your hands together as you looked up and mouthing the words 'amen' before grabbing a small white silicon cup and pouring some for yourself.

In one swift movement you dug into your pocket, pulling out your pill bottle and opening it, taking one and placing it on your tongue as you closed the capsule, putting it back in your pocket. Your cup that was now filled with water you chugged down and refilled it to take another to attempt to flood out the aftertaste, until you were stopped.

Before you could lift the cup up to your lips you were immediately lifted into the air from behind, listening to a familiar voice cheer your name. You immediately went into a panic, turning your previous cup of water, now into nothing but sand, pouring over you and the arms around your lower waist.

"Hizashi!!" You shouted, now trying to pry yourself out of his grasp, your feet swinging in the air as he laughed, quickly putting you down. You immediately scoffed and dusted yourself off, rolling your eyes at his comments and horrible jokes, bending down to the small sand pile you created, forming it back into a silicone cup before throwing it away.

"It's good to see you again seriously, I'm surprised you agreed to come here seeing why you left, with your new fancy job and all." He said, placing his hand on your shoulder and pretending to wipe a fake tear, you only shook your head and smiled at him.

He hasn't changed at all since you last saw him nearly a decade ago, it warmed your heart honestly. You only responded in agreement to his saying, hugging him as he did back to you.

He wasted no time in bringing you to the other side of the teachers' lounge, where you reunited with old friends and shared a few laughs and nice memories before you were all abruptly stopped by hearing a loud slam of the door opening.

As luck would have it, you had another cup in your hand that had coffee in it as the incident occurred, but thankfully your medication had kicked in. You panicked as you nearly spilled the coffee onto yourself, taking a sigh of relief as you moved in time, spilling partial of it onto the floor. Smiling to yourself slightly as you felt the dosage of your medication now starting to affect your mind, making you disassociate.

As everyone paid their attention to the door and expressed words with one another you had bent over, using your quirk and making your coffee spill on the floor a small tissue.

You picked it up and turned to throw it away, completely blocking out the sounds of everyone's voices and small laughter as you made your way to the same trashcan as before, bumping into someone.

"I'm sorry" you said, snapping out of your small trance and zoning back into reality, turning your head to the side to see whose shoulder's you had hit, only to lock eyes with them instantly.

"Shota" you said, nearly breathless as if at a loss for words, he looked at you in shock,

No this wasn't shock,

It seemed to be sadness

maybe sorrow?

"Y/n" he replied, quickly looking away from you and walking away, your eyes trailed his figure as he left.

Out of everything that had happened this morning, and the effects of your medication, you completely forgot that your past lover worked here, and you'd be working alongside him.

He only went over to the coffee table, grabbing a cup and exiting the room, you only looked over to Hizashi and Nemuri, nibbling on your bottom lip. They glanced over to one another, then looked back at you, each placing their hand on each of your shoulders as the bell rang for everyone to get to class.

You were right, this wasn't going to go your way, at all.

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✴🕷 please do not copy, plagiarize, edit, or translate any works submitted by me. all works are originated and all other pictures used within those works are online images. thank you!! @kryptznnn

[shadowshrike]

Interfering with Halsin's Portal

It's pretty well known that there are a few situations you can get in where Halsin is well and truly angry rather than disappointed or worried, but I don't think a lot of folks know one of those situations is if you mess with his portal to the Shadowfell. It's a heartwrenching bit of acting. It's also fundamental to the plot of my in-progress fic Girdled Roots, so I figured I might share it with the other Halsin-lovers out there who have never seen it.

EDIT: Please be aware this is datamined dialog and may not be visible in game. It appears to be intended to trigger if the player attempts to enter the portal, which I don't believe is possible in the final game, or at least I couldn't find a way in the most recent version. Sharing this is simply to enjoy the incredible acting and get some plot bunnies moving, not to make any commentary about the game's canon.

Halsin's Initial Reaction

Halsin: No! Stop! Halsin: It's gone... that was our one chance. You've doomed this place to darkness! Halsin: I warned you - told you this was my burden to carry. Why didn't you listen?

The pure rage and despair is visceral. Prior to this, Halsin mentions this portal has been a century in the making, but he's so calm and measured (even upon success) that it is easy to dismiss just how much agony has plagued him as he hoped to make things right. This chance is everything to him. It has guided his every action for a century. It is a hundred years of work, prayer, and guilt to rectify the horrific fate of both land and people that came to nothing because a stranger he trusted refused to listen to him.

The portal breaking is the only time we hear Halsin speak the truth of its importance to him without a hint of emotional regulation. He is wild with pain. This man who is always thoughtful and slow to anger in the face of horror with the wisdom of age and suffering to guide him has become too overwhelmed to show any kindness.

Player response

The player is given several different ways to respond, and Halsin's reaction varies a surprising amount depending on how understandable their reason is. In most cases, he states that he needs to be alone afterward.

Option 1: I'm sorry - I acted on instinct. Halsin: Words won't repair what's been done to this land. Nothing will... I need to be alone.

You can hear the ache in Halsin's voice, but he's somewhat understanding of this response. He projects more sadness than unchecked rage. The player has admitted to making a mistake, and Halsin isn't the type of person who hold onto vengeance when an apology has been made, but he's not naive or people-pleasing enough to say "it's okay" or offer comfort either. The safest thing for everyone is for him to step away to grieve when there is nothing more to be done.

Option 2: I did all the work here - I couldn't just let you take the glory. Halsin: Glory?! There's no glory here. Now there's nothing here - only shadows and the total absence of hope. Halsin:  There is nothing more to be said... I need to be alone.

Pure fury radiates from Halsin's response if the player focuses on the idea of being some grand hero rather than actually caring for the outcome. What the player did was an unforgiveable act, dooming everything that Halsin holds dear, and you have the audacity to complain about not getting glory from it. Again, he steps away, but this feels more like he's doing it because he believes you're worthless to reason with rather than because he needs a moment.

Option 3: I saved your grove - I figured it'd be best if I handled this as well. Halsin: We were this close to healing these lands. Now your arrogance has torn open the wounds once more. Halsin:  There is nothing more to be said... I need to be alone.

Halsin is still frustrated with this response and unmistakably angry, but it's significantly toned down from the idea of wanting to go through the portal for glory. More like he thinks you're a self-important idiot than a truly terrible person.

Specialized player responses

There are also three special responses you can give if you have a particular class or diety.

Druid: I thought my powers were equal to yours. Halsin: It wasn't just power this needed - it was wisdom, understanding. I suffered along with this place for years trying to understand the curse... and it seems I will continue to do so. Halsin:  There is nothing more to be said... I need to be alone.

Interestingly, he responds much more intensely to a druid than some of the other player choices. It might be in part because he feels like a druid should know better. He lectures the player like an Archdruid would initiates in his Grove, alternating between angry and explanatory, trying to get the player to understand why they were wrong and the sheer magnitude of their error. He ultimately ends in a much more resigned place here rather than personally resentful. Like a father-figure being forced through further life trials because of a child's foolish indiscretion. Frustrating, but inevitable.

Selunite: I trusted in Selûne to guide me through the shadows. Halsin: My friend - I wish you had trusted in me.

This is probably Halsin's most simple response with the least vitriol. He fully understands this answer, even if he's disappointed by it. The fact he calls the player 'friend' suggests a certain tired acceptance of this being a natural behavior for a Selunite trying to do good. We don't see this calm in other responses where Halsin was surprised by the player's choice.

Sharran: The Shadowfell is no place for non-believers - I couldn't allow you to soil it. Halsin: I should never have trusted an ally of the Dark Lady.

If you've ever taken Halsin along with Shadowheart in Act 2, then you know he is absolutely scathing toward her and her faith. He likely isn't as angry if a Sharran breaks the portal because it is utterly predictable. It merely confirms a truth he already knew and talked himself out of. That Sharrans cannot be fully trusted in matters of their goddess, even if one was good enough to rescue his people from the goblins.

[wolven91]

White Lies

Esero was awash in a sea of joy, mirth, comfort, and warmth.

It was almost dizzying being surrounded by such joy. Laughter erupted across the canteen as someone bellowed a heckle at the ursidain telling a story of their awkward teen years. It was in good nature and caused another uproar of laughter as the ursidain in question doubled over in response, gripping his knees as his chest spasmed and he gulped in oxygen between uncontrolled barks of his own mirth.

The whole room was laughing together, it was intoxicating.

As an esquinine, Esero was a natural telepath, able to sense and feel the surface emotions of those in proximity as easily as one would read a billboard they walked past. Few knew the true power of an esquinine's mental abilities, which was substantially more than 'just' reading emotions. The esquinine race had struck a deal with the Galactic Community after a bloody war to spread disinformation over three hundred years ago to downplay the esquinine powers to the wider galaxy for the betterment of everyone.

After all, would the crew she surrounded herself with be so relaxed if they thought she could easily force her way into their minds?

No. Without doubt, the answer would be no.

For the sake of peace and preventing bloodshed, the esquinine people were 'empaths' and empaths alone to the wider galaxy. A white lie for the betterment and comfort of all.

The human who was sat across from her, who was red in the face from laughing so hard was the reason Esero was here. She was a guardian, a protector of the smaller, new race.

So far; an easy job.

The esquinine knew if the human knew of her true power, the trust she had slowly built up would shatter. It had taken roughly six months for the sour yellow hint of suspicion in the human's mind to be replaced with the soothing blues and light greens of trust within the human's mind. That was something Esero was willing to protect with her entire being.

It was because of this passive ability, that Esero was unable to prevent feeling others' emotions, that she felt the oily, purple, bubbling sensation of pure hatred and malice felt by a whole group of unseen forces lance into the room, a split second before the canteen exploded.

Esero had already begun launching herself at the human, across the table much to their initial shock, just as a spike, large enough to fill the room; punched through the ceiling in an explosion of fire, sparks and screaming.

They were being boarded.

Before the human and esquinine could get to their feet, the boarding spike disgorged a screaming rabble of a mixture of different races. The pair of them lay low as weapons fire began lancing through the air, cutting down any that stood in their way. The ship shuddered again and again as similar boarding spikes battered the besieged craft.

Esero touched a finger to the side of her head and focused on a felinoid who had just used a curved blade to slice the throat of one of the crew.

Her mind tore through the wet paper membrane of the felinoid's defences, completely unprepared for the intrusion. Her mental control was instant, gripping a hold of the grey matter inside and demanding the knowledge she sought. What was their goal? What were their instructions?!

To an outside observer, the felinoid froze and went tense, fear gripping its body until it voided their bowels, tears streamed from their eyes as the monstrously large mental assault crushed any hope of resistance. The question the all-encompassing force demanded was instantly answered:

'Take the food, the others will take what's near them. Don't hang around, the ship won't be around for long. Kill anyone.'

The esquinine forced the concept of 'sleep' into every corner of the felinoid's mind at once and the creature tumbled forward, in a collapsed heap amongst the dead of the canteen. It was a total invasion with no intention of leaving the ship or its crew alive.

"Up! We need to get to the pods!" Esero ordered to the human who didn't need mentally nudging to get them moving. Fear gripped them which Esero had no judgment for; she was scared too. But unlike the human, who had been denied a weapon, she was not helpless.

The pair of them slipped from the canteen during the panic. Most of the crew were dazed and already being picked off. The esquinine regretted she could do little, but she was not all powerful and spreading herself too thin would render both herself and her ward vulnerable. All they had to do was get down the corridor and turn left. At the end of the second hallway, was the bank of escape pods.

As the pair ran, a trio unknown creatures appeared from around the bend, armed to the teeth and pointing at her ward with ecstatic grins. A canid, and taurian and an ursidain, bringing up the rear. They obviously hadn't expected the human on board, but neither had they expected the mental domination of their minds either.

Esero thrust out a hand at the first, a canid with red, dripping claws, his defences were non-existent. A creature without discipline, this one must have given in to any desire he ever had. As such the force in which she reached into his mind would have left him a simple drooling mess if he lived, but she had no intention of allowing him breathe a moment longer. The esquinine twirled her hand at the wrist, as she and the human continued to march forward, the human's hand locked within her own grip. She brought her arm out to the side, fingers splayed and the canid copied perfectly, slashing deep gouges into the taurian to his side. The taurian wailed and flinched, looking round betrayed, snarling.

Esero used the same hand to reach up to her neck and roughly dragged her fingers across her soft flesh there. The canid copied and tore deep grooves into his own throat, spraying the corridor before the hold on him was gone and he fell forwards. The two other raiders looked shocked and confused, taking a step back at the display, not trying to reach out for their former crew mate. By the time the taurian's worried face glanced back the esquinine's way, her terrible gaze was already on the pirate, her eye glowing blue and furious.

In the taurian's hands was a piece of mining equipment. Placed against solid rock, it would force an explosion into the material, breaking it apart for processing. Fired like a gun, it would send shards of near molten metal fragments out in a devastating cone of violence, it's recoil was too much for any but the strongest to wield. The taurian began to raise the gun up but suddenly changed her aim. With one hand now, pointed the gun to the side and up at the third and final marauder, the ursidain.

The ursidain's eyes went wide just as the tool fired, erasing the ursidain's head in a shower of gore and liquidised meat and bone. The taurian's wrist snapped with the force of the explosion, shattering the bone and tearing muscles in one ear shattering 'boom'.

By the time the taurian had slumped to her knees, drooling and wordlessly moaning like an animal, Esero was upon her.

The esquinine merely laid a hand to the taurian's head for a moment, and to the human's shocked perspective the taurian immediately snorted, blood shooting from her nostrils before the beast collapsed backwards, eyes rolled back in a horrid display. Esero had only touched the monster for but a moment...

The rest of the pair's flight was uninterrupted as they made it to the pods, the human practically thrown in before being joined by Esero.

The pod fired and fled the doomed vessel, disappearing into the void, it's black paint and low profile making the pod near impossible to find by all but those who had the SOS beacon codes.

It was then, that Esero turned to the human, who had curled themselves into a corner as far from the esquinine as they could. Wide, fearful eyes watched her.

"I mean you no harm." She offered honestly.

"You said it was just emotions... You did that." Accused the shorter creature.

"To save us."

The human didn't respond, but the waves of distrust and need to tell someone else told Esero everything she needed to know. With a heavy heart she stood and moved toward the human. The human flinched and scrambled backwards as if they could push themselves deeper into the corner.

If she did nothing, the human would tell any and all that would listen. The races would turn on the esquinine and they in turn would defend themselves. The resulting bloodbath would be like the galaxy hadn't seen in a millennia. Esero couldn't allow that.

"No! Wait!" The human begged, hands up warding the esquinine's fingers away.

"I'm sorry." She whispered as a soft hand lay against the human's forehead, despite their best efforts to fight the larger alien off.

The human's mental barriers were stronger than those of the pirates. They had no desire to control themselves. To practise self-discipline. To guard themselves. But the human had those traits. Their mind resisted, but ultimately had no hope of winning.

Esero read through the human's mind as tears ran down the flesh of the tiny alien cheeks, they could feel what she was doing. Having found the moment that Esero dove over the table at the human, she erased the memory of everything that happened afterwards with a gentle caress across the human's forehead, as if merely wiping away condensation from a mirror. The human stopped fighting her.

Esero released her hold. The human immediately gasped and blinked, visibly confused as the esquinine's hand moved away.

"Wha- where?"

"In the life pod, are you okay?" The telepath asked, showing the genuine concern she felt.

"The explosion! What happened?!"

"Pirates. They boarded the ship and began hurting everyone. I brought you to the escape pods and we're here now."

"You saved me?"

"You're my ward little one. I'll always protect you."

"W-what about the others?"

"Some of the pods were already launched. Some will have made it out, others may not have. We won't know until the GC arrive and pick up the pods."

The human sagged and gave a heavy shuddering sigh.

"You're safe... It'll take time to process this, but you're safe now."

"Thank god you were there Esero..."

The esquinine pulled a tight smile that she didn't feel as the crushing guilt of her actions weighed heavily upon her.

[r/WolvensStories]

[Ko-Fi]

[cal-writes]

Hello! I'm a huge fan of your work! I hope you enjoy writing it even half as much as I enjoy reading it.

I was wondering if I could request Chopper getting upset at Zoro for how often he ends up severely injured and how he always acts like it's no big deal? I love Zoro's sibling relationships with Chopper and Nami and I don't think there's nearly enough content with either of them.

Thank you for all you provide us!

i do enjoy it very much! (most of the time... art be like) i'm so glad you like my work <3

-

"You have to be more careful." Nami tells Zoro from where she is sitting in the corner of the infirmary. She has her arms wrapped around her middle, legs crossed tightly over each other.

Zoro huffs and it rattles in his chest. "I'm fine." He says, his voice breaking halfway through. Chopper clamps his mouth shut. Hoves pausing briefly before he continues to wrap the myriad of wounds of Zoro's body.

Nami's fingers tighten in the fabric of the too big sweater she is wearing. It must be one of Franky's the way it fits her like a dress. Her nose is still red, the skin on her face blotchy and torn from the cold.

He ties off the last bandage around Zoro's leg. He's more gauze than skin at this point. Hundreds of cuts all over his body, his temperature is still too low. Chopper lost track of how long Zoro spend in the icy water but it was too long. He hadn't even been shivering anymore by the time Jimbei pulled him out.

"You are so far from fine." Nami spits out and stands with a flash. A moment later she's left them with a slam of the door.

Zoro sighs exasperately and the action makes him cough. He stangles it in his throat but this close, Chopper can see his chest jump with the effort.

Chopper jumps off his stepstool next to the bed to grab one of their blankets but before he's even made two steps, Zoro pushes himself up on his elbows.

"What are you doing?" Chopper shrieks, waving his hands around and trying to pull at Zoro's shoulder. He looks down at him, eye unfocused and eyebrow raised.

"You're done right?" Zoro asks, sitting up and ignoring Chopper's protests. "Gotta get back to-"

"If you say training I will not be held responsible for what I do to you!" Chopper shrieks. His voice cracks halfway through as he shifts into his larger form on instinct.

Zoro blinks at him. He has to look up now, as Chopper's more humanoid form towers over him. Chopper feels his fists shake at his sides, rage making a drumroll of his heartbeat.

"Chopper-" Zoro starts but Chopper won't let him. With one large hand on Zoro's injured torso he pushes him back down onto the mattress.

"No." He tells him. "I am not finished. You are staying right here." Chopper exhales sharply through his nose, glaring at Zoro in warning before he turns around to grab that blanket he had been meaning to before. When he turns back Zoro hasn't moved. One weary gray eye watching him closely as he tucks the blanket around him. His form begins to shrink, his hands still shake and his own eyes begin to blur.

"Chopper." Zoro says more quietly.

Chopper just shakes his head, sniffling. "You have to be more careful." He repeats Nami's words. "I know it's not easy, with us being pirates and all but you can't-" He has to rub at his eyes as they spill.

"Come here." Zoro's hand bumps against his head and by the time Chopper stops wiping his eyes he's smaller than the infirmary bed again. His stepstool scrapes over the wood floor as he pulls it clovers to climb onto the mattress. Zoro's arm hangs over the edge, beckonining him to cuddle up against his side. Chopper can feel every one of his breaths. "I'm not going to die." Zoro tells him.

Chopper sniffs and curls up halfway on Zoro's chest. Soft tremors have started to shake his form, which Chopper takes as a good sign. "You can't say that and then disregard everything I tell you when you're hurt." He says. "I'm the doctor on board. This is my job." Zoro's hand lands on his back. It feels too cool still even through his fur. He looks up, fixing Zoro in a glance. "If you don't trust me to do my job right then just say it."

Zoro's eye widens and he sputters. "That's not- Of course I trust you." He says fervently.

Chopper pokes him with one of his hooves against the chest, making sure to hit a part of uninjured skin. "Then do as I say when you're injured."

Zoro sighs and closes his eye, head falling back into the pillow. "Yes, doctor."

Chopper blushes despite himself. "Flattery is not going to change that." He says as he squrims, nuzzling closer into Zoro's side.

[armpirate]

Kalla | Choi San || Chapter 19

MASTERLIST Previous || Next

Pairings: CEO!San x fem!reader

Genre: smut, angst, fluff, strangers to lovers.

Warnings: dom!San, sub!reader, voyeourism, use of sex toys, bondage, dirty talk, BDSM, exhibitionism, rough sex.

Summary: She was surprised by how fast her life went from the perfect fairytale to the destructive mess it had turned into. Dealing with a cheater ex boyfriend, having to move out to a different place because the house she lived in belonged to that man she once dreamed of spending the rest of her life with, while continuously being underappreciated at work... It was as if life was telling her to stop dreaming big, to go back to her small town, Bibury, and help her parents run the small farm her family had owned for decades.

At least until she received a call from her friend.

A sudden vacancy as an assistant showed up on one of her friend's system, having her being encouraged to take that big step and apply for it. She had no hopes for it. Mainly because she didn't have any experience on the field, and she didn't comply with most of the requirements that were added on the offer -and which most of them sounded ridiculous and exaggerated for the position, making her wonder who was the freak who needed so many guidelines in order to hire someone to pick up the phone and schedule events. 

Although that hotel she'd be working on was much more than anything she could've come up with. 

Choi San wasn't someone easy to deal with. After his previous assistant presented his resignation letter on his desk, he felt forced to start the whole selection process again -after merely two months. 

Sure that he was being way too strict, enough to find that anyone who applied for the position wasn't enough, he asked one of his friends to be in charge of the interviews and the selection of the most adequate candidate. 

Little did he know Wooyoung would hire the imperfectly perfect candidate for him, sure that she'd help him in many ways other than just in dealing with the responsibilities of his position. 

A new challenge will come their way as soon as she steps inside the hotel. 

Y/n will have to learn how to mold onto him and deal with all his small habits and requirements, and San will find himself trying to open up and let out all those same things that turned him into the person he was. 

The more she digs in Kalla and all of its secrets and exciting corners, the deeper she'll dive into San's heart and soul... Although, maybe, she won't be able to take it. 

Kalla opens its doors to you, sharing the vast amount of filthy and erotic plans it offers, and that you can join with a partner... Or maybe just by yourself. 

Hope you enjoy your stay.

Chapter duration: 22 minutes

His eyes opened slowly, fighting their own weight to be able to see his room barely lit by the weak light from outside. His fingers taped over his pillow, trying to think about what happened the previous day, and how real it actually was. And how good he felt.

It was the first time he had such a connection with someone. At times Y/n made him feel as if she were an extension of himself, reading his mind to follow his orders or adapt to his movements immediately after he gave a hint of them. It was obvious she was inexperienced in that area, but she had him burning with every gentle touch, every high-pitched and every desperate look.

That woman was indeed everything he had been waiting for as a sex partner.

San slid his feet inside his slippers, pushing himself up by pressing his palms over the edge of the bed inside the guests room -which had never been used. Actually, it had been used before. But the memory of his father giving him one hundred awful nights was something he'd rather forget.

When he stepped inside his room, he tried to be as silent and careful as possible when noticing the bulge in the middle of his bed under the blankets. It was obvious by how still she was that Y/n was still deep in her sleep.

Trying to keep it as silent and calm, he dressed himself inside his dresser -something he hardly ever did. He appreciated having as much space to walk over the shelves and hangers to choose what he was going to wear, but he always ended up taking it out to place it over his bed while he dressed himself.

Not that day, and not while Y/n was still sleeping.

The vest was hanging on his elbow, while he slowly surrounded the edge of his bed to place himself at the level of her head.

Her cheek was squished against the black fabric, while her arms cuddled to it, keeping the pillow close to her body. Some messy locks fell over her cheek, while the rest were spread all over the covers. His finger reached for a strand of hair, which was too close to be trapped between her slightly parted lips, moving it enough just so it wouldn't bother her later.

San was hesitating whether to wake her up, let her sleep and wait for her, or let her sleep and give her the freedom to go to work once she had finally recovered and after she had changed her clothes; but while he took a decision, he found himself tilting his head to appreciate her features half covered by the blankets, while his eyes wrinkled with a smile that was barely seen on his face.

His head shook, knocking back some common sense and rationality onto him while his hand tried to reach the small notebook he had on his nightstand.

It was a better idea for him to give her space to get ready and use whatever she needed in his house, without feeling intimidated by him. It was better that way.

He needed to deal with more important things that day, other than that sudden rush in his veins by just seeing her in her most comfortable state.

And all that unexpected frustration came out with a different shape and form as he stepped inside his hotel, walking through the big doors that were opened by the bellboy, who glanced at him with a friendly smile while bowing.

San strode into the hotel lobby, his face set with determination. The staff, sensing his mood, quickly stepped aside as he made his way to the manager's office. He always kept a sensible distance with all of his employees, but it never affected how he acknowledged them. At least until that morning.

Inside, the manager, Areum, was already waiting with a concerned look on her face. Seeing San's message first thing in the morning was enough for her to react and get everything to work before he showed up.

—Good morning —she got up from her seat, bowing to him—. I've gathered the reception staff as you requested.

—Thank you, Areum —he nodded curtly—. Let's get this over with.

They walked to the small conference room where the receptionists were gathered, all gathered around the big oval table with expressions being a mix of confusion and anxiety. While leading the table, San took a deep breath, trying to maintain his composure.

—I'm sure you're all aware that there was a serious breach of privacy involving one of your colleagues recently —he informed, addressing the group of six people—. Someone gave a worker's private information, such as their personal address, because someone pretending to be her boyfriend asked for it. That information, which was leaked, could've led to some dangerous situation.

The room was silent, with the receptionists exchanging nervous glances while avoiding his eyes, which tried to scan each one of their faces, looking for any sign of guilt.

—I want to make it clear that such breaches will not be tolerated. We need to maintain the highest standards of confidentiality for our guests. If this breach happens with someone who works here, who assures me it won't happen to any of our guests?

But it wasn't one of his guests, nor one of his employees. It was Y/n. It was Y/n turning into a small ball of anxiety while hiding in his car so she wouldn't get caught, avoiding a conflict that someone else settled for her by being careless about such delicate information.

— So, I need to know who was responsible.

The receptionists remained silent, the tension in the room palpable. While San's eyes preyed on each one of them, looking for any sign of guilt, any sign of discomfort, until he found all of them in one person standing as far away from his place as possible.

Finally, one of them, a young girl, and one of the latest additions to the group, SookJa, shifted uncomfortably. San's eyes locked onto her.

—SookJa, do you have something to say? —he sharply questioned.

The short girl with a bob cut struggled to speak, muttering some sounds, but never getting to speak up before her chin started trembling uncontrollably.

—I... I didn't mean for anything bad to happen —her voice trembled with fear—. He said he was her boyfriend and that it was urgent. And I... I thought it wouldn't hurt to just tell him where she lived.

His breathing became irregular with that explanation, sure that it didn't make things better to know that he offered her money in exchange for compromising Y/n's security and privacy.

But even then, he didn't want to make a scene.

—Everyone out. I just want SookJa and Areum to stay —despite the anger, his voice sounded crontrolled.

He waited for each one of the receptionists to get out of that room, neither of them aiming an empathic look her way, before the door finally closed behind them.

—Do you realize the potential danger you put her in? This isn't just giving out information. This is about safety and trust.

—I'm so sorry, Mr. Choi —tears started swelling down her cheeks—. I didn't think it would lead to this. I just... He told me he traveled all the way from the UK to see her, and he told me Y/n was waiting for him, just that she didn't tell him where she lived because she forgot.

—Did he also offer you money? —Areum interrogated.

Her weeping became messier and louder after that question, nodding as she felt unable to form a single word.

San looked at her, moving his hands towards the edge of the table to support his weight on it, letting his head fall forwards tiredly while he sighed. He tried to temper his anger, but that last bit of information only made things worse.

—Areum, I want SookJa's employment terminated immediately —he informed, raising his head to look at a concerned Areum—. We can't afford to have someone who compromises our guests' safety.

—San —she called him, hesitation flashing her voice—, I understand your frustration, but we need to follow proper HR procedures. This will require a formal review.

His jaw clenched, knowing exactly where that demand was coming from.

—Fine. But SookJa is suspended without pay until the review is complete. And I want a full report on how we can prevent this from happening again.

—Understood —Areum bowed ninety degrees in her boss' direction—. We'll handle it.

When he stood back straight, he glanced one hard look at the young woman who kept shaking her head, as if that would make any change on his decision.

—I have nothing else to say.

San left the room with those six words falling heavy on SookJa's shoulders, while the weight of the situation pressed on him. He couldn't allow another scandal, and he couldn't allow anyone putting someone that was part of Kalla in danger.

Areum followed him right after, walking fast to catch him in the middle of the corridor and speak while keeping the speed of his long legs.

—I'm really sorry.

—It's not your fault —he sighed.

—I was the one who hired SookJa —she argued back—. Ever since you cut on the money spent on the hiring process, the quality of the new employees has decreased a bit.

His steps slowed down with that information, which he was already aware of. The difference between the oldest employees and the ones who started in the past year and a half was evident, the quality of their manners, their dedication and effort was completely different. Even their loyalty to Kalla. New employees didn't stay for longer than a few months, while the most veteran employees had been there almost since the hotel was founded.

That one last meeting with the investors, where they decided to reduce costs on something they found minimal, had him suffering sporadic headaches from situations like the one he lived the previous day.

And it needed a solution.

Y/n groaned while hugging tight onto the pillow, stretching her legs and back while she felt the mattress underneath her getting used to every single movement she made. It felt like she was sleeping on a big cloud.

When opening her eyes, and getting used to the weak light the cloudy day outside allowed to come in through the curtains, she managed to see one white note perfectly placed in the middle of the nightstand.

Hello, Y/n,

I'm feeling like writing this in Korean, because I know you'll understand (or you'll make the effort to understand).

I didn't want to wake you because it looked like you were sleeping well, and you needed it after last night. I have to head to the hotel early to handle an urgent issue, so I'll see you there when you come. Take your time.

Feel free to make yourself at home here. Take a shower if you please. There's coffee in the kitchen, and some snacks.

Thank you for your trust last night.

San

P.S. If you need anything, don't hesitate to call me.

She wanted to keep that giggly smile to herself, but she couldn't help it after reading just the first line. She struggled to read the note, taking a bit more than a few minutes to make up what all the characters combined meant, but she felt so proud of herself after finding out the meaning. And she felt so nervous while reading the last part...

Putting on the same clothes she used the previous night, right after showering, felt like it made no sense. Yet she did it anyway.

While Y/n walked around his place to head to the kitchen again, she couldn't help but notice the lack of identity his house had. There was no indicator that the house belonged to him. No family pictures, no details that could give out his hobbies. She could bet that man was a mystery even for himself.

But maybe it was better like that.

The most impersonal sex was, the least she'd get attached to him or anything they lived together. She meant it when she told her friends she didn't want to fall for someone again in a long while. After four years in a failed relationship, she just wanted to have fun and live those things she wasn't able to live. She wanted to get wild, she wanted to try new things and break up with her past self. She wanted to break her own limits and learn things about herself she didn't know about. And San had been a Master on teaching her all of that.

Getting home at that time of the day, only to get changed again, was something that wouldn't have crossed her mind weeks back. And after Seonghwa ran over her as soon as she crossed the door, she could tell why.

—Where were you? Are you okay? —his hands moved over her arms, trying to check on her— Some weird dude showed up here last night, and confronted me because I wouldn't tell you where you were. I didn't know, but even if I had known, I wouldn't have told him.

—Andy was still here when you showed up? —Y/n interrupted, amazed by the lengths her ex boyfriend went.

—Yeah. He was so distasteful —the disgust on his face almost made her chuckle—. I guess he ended up leaving when you didn't come.

Seonghwa was finally aware of her wrinkled and messy clothes, along with her still humid hair. Checking the time, on the clock hung over the small couch, his concerned expression turned into a smirk.

—I can see why you're not affected at all —he playfully commented.

—What does that mean?

His manners and how delicate he actually was didn't allow him to do the gestures he wanted to do, to let her know he indeed knew of what she did the previous night, but the way his eyebrows arched and his lips puckered did give it out.

—Who was it? Was it with that man you didn't want to make things more difficult with?

—Oh my god, did you hear my conversations?

Y/n wanted to be upset at her friend being into gossip, yet that detail only made her like him even more.

—It could be —he admitted—. Was it with him?

—It could be —she imitated his answer—. I'll tell you more about it later, I need to go to work.

—You won't tell me anything later because you'll be going to sleep before I come home —he annoyingly called her out, letting his body fall over the couch.

Y/n dedicated him one sweet smile before she closed the door to her room behind her, giving herself the privacy she needed to get changed.

It was unbelievably crazy the big influence feeling wanted had in the way she viewed her life. It gave herself a serotonin boost, finding things funnier than they were, seeing the sun shining bright through the gray clouds. It even felt like that when she got to the hotel, finding everyone smiling more than usual.

It made no sense, although it wasn't bothering her.

Until someone spoke.

—Hey —Mingi walked to her with a friendly smile—. Are you okay? I heard about what happened yesterday.

Seonghwa had such a big mouth... The last thing she wanted was people in her workplace knowing of what happened in her private life.

—I don't get how that asshole had the balls to show up at your place —he clicked his tongue, placing his hands on his hips.

—It's alright. He wasn't there in the morning, so I guess he gave up —she shrugged.

Either that, or he was going to try his luck again in a matter of a few hours.

—San was so angry when he came in the morning. He made all the receptionists, even those who were on their day off, come here to attend an urgent meeting about it.

San wasn't the king of discretion either, wasn't he?

—I still don't know what happened though. I haven't seen Areum yet —he let her know, flying his eyes over Y/n's head.

—I guess he was affected by the privacy breach —she shrugged—. So it's confirmed it was someone here?

—Yeah, um...

—Hey, Y/n, how are you? —a middle-woman with a bun, who she hadn't spoken to before, walked to them— I heard the news.

—HyeYoung, what did we tell you? —Mingi called her out with a calm tone.

—She has been stalked, of course I'll ask her how she's doing —she rolled her almond eyes.

—It's not a big deal.

—Well, it seems to be for San. He's getting ready to fire the person who gave out your information —HyeYoung scoffed.

—How do you know? —Mingi turned to her.

—I was drinking a coffee with the guys in HR, and they said they're the busiest they've ever been since you gave up your position as his secretary, because they've been looking into SookJa's case after San was determined on firing her.

—I need to head to work —Y/n mumbled.

Not giving them time to speak and ask her to join them for a coffee, her heels started moving fast to that route she already knew so well.

And she wasn't surprised to see his door closed when she entered their shared office, managing to hear some muffled voices behind the door -one of them being of an altered San.

—You can't cut money from something so important —San sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose—. This hotel bases its quality on its security. How can I offer that when my employees don't believe in that themselves?

—And how can you expect them to believe in that if you fire them at the first chance you have? —Wonshik barked back from the other side of the screen.

—That receptionist leaked confidential information about one of my employees, which led to a serious safety issue. I believe terminating her employment is necessary to maintain our standards and ensure our guests' trust.

—You can't just fire people left and right without due process—Wonshik scoffed—! This isn't a dictatorship. We have procedures to follow. Besides, do you realize how hard it is to find good staff these days?

—Good staff don't compromise the safety of our guests for a bribe. What she did was unacceptable. If we don't take a stand now, it sets a dangerous precedent. Imagine the damage it could create to Kalla if this got to the general public. We'd be involved in another scandal.

—You're too quick to judge. Everyone makes mistakes. And this isn't just about one employee; it's about the entire workforce seeing that you care more about protocols than people.

—I do care about people—our guests and our staff. That's exactly why I'm doing this. I need my staff to feel as protected as guests in privacy matters. Part of caring is ensuring a safe environment. If our employees think they can get away with such breaches, it undermines everything we've worked for.

—And what about the impact on staff morale? Suspending her without pay will make everyone uneasy. We need to handle this delicately, not with an iron fist.

—Wonshik, I understand the need for due process, which is why I agreed to a formal review —he sighed heavily—. But we can't ignore the severity of what happened. She put a colleague in danger. How can we expect our guests and staff to feel safe if they know their information isn't secure? —he reiterated.

—You need to find a balance, San —Wonshik declared, still fuming—. You can't run this place like a military camp. Employees need to feel they can make mistakes without losing their jobs instantly."

—I agree that we need to balance firmness with compassion. That's why she's suspended pending review and not immediately fired. But I won't back down on this. Safety is non-negotiable.

—You're playing a dangerous game, San. Alienate the staff, and you'll have bigger problems than a leaking receptionist.

—I'm aware of the risks. But I'd rather face those risks than compromise our integrity and the safety of everyone involved in this. If that means making tough decisions, then so be it.

—Just remember, this hotel isn't just yours. There are many stakeholders involved. Handle it wisely.

And that sentence alone had him wanting to clench his jaw. Because of those stakeholders he had been unable to make the right decisions on his own.

Meanwhile, Y/n, on the other side of the door, dropped her hand and opened her fist when she realized the last thing San needed was her confronting him about a decision that he needed to make.

And the rest of the day she barely saw him. Only from afar. While they both were in the office, she accepted only hearing his voice while he kept going through one meeting after the other. And when she saw him outside, while she was leaving the restaurant, he was running from one spot to the other.

He needed a break, and she came up with the right plan after an advertisement popped up in her search.

—Y/n, it's not a good moment —San sighed as soon as she saw her opening the door after knocking on it.

—You didn't let me speak —she replied, lifting her eyebrow.

—I know the face you make when you're about to leave, and it's not that one.

Involuntarily, she touched her face, trying to understand what he meant by the face she made before she waved goodbye at him every day. But San had it pretty clear: the curve of her lips was perfectly marked, with her upper teeth showing in a bright smile, before she addressed him with a joyful tone. That day she was a bit more serious, and nervous even.

—The dom should make sure his sub's needs are met and to be sure she's taken care of —she attacked him.

—Related to sex.

—And this is part of my aftercare —she shrugged—. As a dom, that's your obligation with me.

—Almost a day after?

The way she puckered her lips and simply nodded at his question had him smiling stupidly, finally dropping the pen over his desk to stare at her. He also couldn't ignore the fact that she did look into it to be able to convince him to leave his office that day.

San just got up from his seat, grabbing his jacket and motioning her to the door.

—You aren't acting to be following me only to close the door behind me, right? —she questioned, squinting her eyes.

—No —he chuckled—. Lead the way.

To his car.

He could've just walked before her, leading the way to his vehicle. But he just liked the way he could tell how happy she was even from behind

With her lead, San drove to a hot pot restaurant Wooyoung had been trying to drag him to several times. Always failing on each attempt.

—A hot-pot? —he lifted his eyebrow, when he stopped the car in front of the entrance.

—Yep—the car roared again underneath them when he drove to the small parking lot that belonged to the establishment—! My roommate has been trying to take me here a few times, but I always ended up stuck at work. Well, him, too. But especially me.

—I wonder what you're trying to tell me —he playfully mentioned.

They were both led to a booth with a steaming pot of broth already simmering in the center of the table. Barely giving them any time to get used to the place, Y/n started picking out various ingredients from the menu, explaining each one to San after he mentioned it was his first time.

—Okay, so we have a choice of meats, vegetables, and noodles. I promise you, you're going to love it.

—It's good to see you're fluent with things that are convenient for you —he mumbled.

—Other people would just say "Wow, you improved so much. I'm impressed" and call it a day.

—I am impressed. And really proud —he nodded.

Her feet kicked one another under the table, while her face lowered to hide her smile and the blush on her cheeks as they started burning.

San raised the two long and thicker chopsticks in his fingers, picking one of the slices of meat to do one of those movements he had seen on people on the Internet doing -and the guy on the table next to theirs.

It was easy, a twist of wrist and the meat should roll around the chopsticks itself so he could dig it in the pot. Yet still, he managed to let the piece of meat slip away, falling a few meters from their table, with a loud dry sound that had him quickly turning to face her again.

She didn't know what was funnier: the sound of the meat against the floor or his face when he realized what had happened. But whatever the reason was, she cackled, while her mouth was still full, making her rush to cover her mouth with her hand to keep the food from coming out.

And that alone made him instantly relax, smirking while his head shook before he gave it a second try.

—This is actually pretty fun. And it smells amazing —he admitted after a while.

—Told you! Plus, it's nice to do something hands-on. Keeps your mind busy.

As they cooked and ate, they chatted about lighter topics—most of them related to food. The atmosphere was relaxed, and San found himself laughing more than he had in days.

Her concerned expression, when he slurped some more noodles along with the meat, had him cackling even more. And it wasn't unjustified, it had been a long while since Y/n put her chopsticks down.

—How can you still be eating?

—It's an all you can eat —he explained, cheeks filled with food—. You should make it worth it. It's something you learn when you struggle with money and have these chances.

She just nodded, agreeing with his comment, despite not having to go through something like that.

—Did you go through all the buffets in London to learn that? —she teased him.

—Something like it —he grimaced—. I did have money to eat though. But going out to eat two days in a row? That was insanity.

—How long did you live in London?

—A year or so —he squinted his eyes as he tried to remember.

And the only thing he could only come up with from that time was the frustration. Not the low life he lived -and to which he was already used to from Seoul-, or the difference in traditions and habits. It was the frustration of seeing the only reason he was there making no sense.

—Were you happy there?

—Hmm —he nodded—. After I got used to it, yes.

—Why did you come back, then?

Because his father was the most egotistical figure he had ever had to confront in his twenty six years of life, and had a lot of power over him which he abused.

—Family issues —Y/n nodded.

—I know of those —she intervened, trying to make the environment lighter again—. Some families are a black hole.

—I like that way of explaining it —he nodded, making her chuckle.

After he made sure they both were done, he let her lead the way to his car again, opening the door for her before he sat next to her seat in the driver's spot.

If he had learned something that night, it was that she made him feel more comfortable than he had been in years. And that he couldn't keep his hands to himself, when his fingers moved over the fabric of her pencil skirt to squeeze her thigh.

He followed her up close to the entrance of the two level house.

—Thank you for today —he mumbled.

—I know you had a difficult day —she admitted.

—Who told you?

—Mingi and HyeYoung.

Instead of denying it, he could only let out a heavy sigh.

—Don't fire her —she said next—. I know she messed up, but we all make mistakes. I'm sure how you scared her will be enough of a wake up call.

—Y/n, she put you in danger. She could've put someone else in danger, and make a big problem out of something smaller.

—Is this related to that other scandal you mentioned? —she questioned, with San's expression turning completely serious after.

—This is related to you having your ex boyfriend showing up at your place late in the night as a consequence of someone else's actions —he argued back—. Anything else related isn't relevant.

—Can you, at least, think about it? —she insisted.

It didn't matter how sure he was of a decision. Because, as soon as Y/n gave her insight, his thought on it changed completely.

—I will think about it —he nodded—. But give me a kiss first

Her fingers wrapped around his neck with a shy smile, getting him to bend himself lower to be able to reach her lips in a soft kiss which turned possessive and passionate in a matter of a few minutes.

Her back was pinned against the wall, one of his hands was firmly holding her by the wrist, and her hair was tangled on the digits of his other hand. It was just them and the imminent invitation of going up to her room.

—Oh my... I fucking knew it!

Taglist: @brown88

[thenightfolknetwork]

Hello! I’m a road.

Ok perhaps it’s a little more complicated than that. My spirit, or soul, or inner being -whatever you want to call it- inhabits a stretch of country lane in rural Yorkshire. I think I’ve been here longer than the road itself, but if I’m honest centuries tend to blur after a while. Definitely longer than cars though. Which is where my problem comes in.

I need a change. I’m not the same person I was a hundred years ago and being stuck as the same stretch of tarmac for so long is really starting to bother me.

I can have (and in the past have had) a wiggle around. You know, try a new bend here, a bit of incline there, but this time I’m worried about the effect it will have on the local population. Some of them have been driving along me for decades so imagine the chaos when they go to turn left like they do every day and and instead find themself in a hedge that *definitely* wasn’t there before. Plus the tourists in the summer will be an absolutely nightmare when their satnavs don’t line up with what I’m actually shaped like. And goodness knows the farmers are stressed enough without hundreds of lost hikers showing up at their doors because their maps are wrong.

So, what can I do? I really can’t bear being stuck like this much longer, but I just can’t figure out how to enact the change I really need without at the very least causing a lot of confusion and at the worst, causing some serious accidents too.

I think a bit of change sounds like a wonderful idea, reader. It's easy to get stuck in old habits long past the point when they've stopped serving us. I commend you on recognising your own needs and being willing to take action to see those needs are met.

I recommend writing to your local council and informing them of the upcoming changes. Let them know in plenty of time to make whatever preparations they require and to get the word out to local drivers.

This would mean you'd have to decide on what changes you'd like for yourself beforehand. I hope this lack of spontaneity won't dampen your excitement, or lessen the satisfaction of finally having your long-awaited “wiggle around”.

Besides, you might find that there are still some changes you can leave to the last minute. Provided you stick to the basics of the plan you've submitted to the council, I think there's room for a little creativity – some bumps here, a little widening there.

Finally, your letter hits upon a rather common issue for the people who write to me. Specifically, I can't help but feel you are taking on responsibility for matters which rightly belong to other people.

I am, of course, all for taking care of your community. But there is a point at which drivers – and hikers – need to take responsibility for themselves. If someone takes a corner of yours too quickly to be safe, or fails to prepare properly for a walking holiday, that's not your fault.

Do your due diligence, and take reasonable precautions to limit the risks. Any more than that is simply not your concern. Focus on planning an exciting new route for yourself, and enjoying the changes to come.

[blackjackkent]

So... it's wildly unfortunate that the Urge chose that night to be terrible, because there's no way anyone in camp got a proper night's sleep, most certainly including Rakha, and there is a very, very long day ahead of them.

On the other hand, if all goes according to plan, that day involves Rakha finally wreaking vengeance on Ketheric Thorm, and she has quite a lot of it to unload at this point.

She leaves Shadowheart in camp and take Minthara back into the squad. Shadowheart is altogether too rattled by what happened in the Shadowfell to be able to fight - but more to the point, Rakha and Minthara swore an oath to take down Ketheric together. That time has now arrived.

Jaheira, it seems, has been busy. The path to Moonrise Towers is lined with corpses.

Wyll watches Rakha carefully out of the corner of his eye. He knows the smell of blood from the dead bodies has every chance of waking the beast again. But she shakes her head wordlessly. She is calm - for now, at least. The promise of battle ahead, mixed with the bone-deep exhaustion of her fractured night, has things contained for the time being.

Above them, high in the tower, she can hear the distant sound of shouts. The cursed magic around her ripples with the echoes of spells.

Jaheira is standing at the end of the bridge, peering up along the tower's high wall above her.

"Unshackled from shadows, she will rise in moonlit glory and carve a path of brightness to the accursed one's second death," she murmurs as Rakha approaches. Her tone has a slight note of reverence; she is quoting from something Rakha does not recognize. "So sayeth the wise Alaundo."

Her eyes drop to meet Rakha's. Does she see the brutal exhaustion in the half-orc's eyes? Surely she must - she is too quick and sharp not to. And for a moment, just a moment, there is a flash of concern through her face. But then it is gone, all business, all practicality, for which Rakha is deeply grateful.

"That beacon of angelic wrath has taken the fight to Ketheric on the rooftop," she says curtly. "And the first line of defense are dead. But storming the tower won't be easy, and if we wait too long, Ketheric will gather his strength and retaliate. For now, though, he's on the back foot for the first time since he returned from the grave."

Rakha nods slowly.

Her interactions with Jaheira up to this point have been at best a considerably mixed bag. Their first meeting, after all, centered on Jaheira nearly setting the Harpers on her - and Rakha nearly killing her in return. But they have settled to a sort of uneasy fellowship now; they have no choice but to trust each other.

And in this moment, with Rakha so rattled by the terrible night that lies behind her, Jaheira's forthright, direct competence feels like a balm, like a beacon. A sense of direction in the dark.

Jaheira is still watching her intently. "This is it. The spearhead moment. You've brought us this far, so how shall we proceed?"

Rakha blinks. An odd question. She is no soldier. She has no knowledge of tactics or strategy; all she knows is to push forward and kill until no enemies are left standing. And she is so terribly frightened of that part of herself now; last night it almost finally tore her apart.

But these are targets worth killing. This is a fight with purpose. The sort Wyll and Lae'zel have guided her towards. These are not the innocent blood the beast truly craves, but the Absolutists who hurt her, hurt her friends, hurt hundreds of others Rakha has not even met. And Ketheric stands at their head, with only a handful of hours remaining in his miserable life.

"I reap every soul in this tower," she mutters hoarsely, "until we are the last creatures left standing."

She isn't sure what response she expected, but it wasn't this one - Jaheira laughs. Her eyes narrow in a flash of black humor and her lips twitch in a wry smile. "Hah. Sounds like something my scimitars would say," she says dryly. "They'll strike true. See to it you'll do the same."

She turns, spreading her arms, lifting her voice to the Harpers standing around them. "At the ready, Harpers! In this light there will be victory! In this light we will avenge the fallen!"

There's a rolling cheer from the Harpers. Rakha feels the tension in her own heart loosen just a little, some lingering fragment of courage strengthening in answer to the old warrior's battle cry.

Jaheira draws the blades from her back and spins them dexterously in both hands.

"The time has come," she says, firm and implacable, a battering ram about to be loosed from its moorings. "Ketheric will taste of death at last."

[lets-try-some-writing]

Your CC Warfare fic legit had me stressing out so bad I thought I was feeling a genuinely new emotion, lol. That whole thing was like a really bad car crash: it's terrible what happened, but you can't look away. If Strongarm had just said nothing, she would've avoided putting her foot in her mouth and getting in trouble. With how tense everything was, I see no reason why she would jump in. I understand she was trying to help Sideswipe out of that situation, but she did it in like the complete opposite direction! She should've reared him in, not back him up. She said it herself that they were war veterans. Though, I suppose that's easier said. Strongarm may be intelligible of the war records and Autobot law, but truthfully, plain intelligence pales in the face of wisdom and actual experience. Intelligence says: this war could've easily been won because of xyz. Wisdom and experience say completely otherwise. And I guess that is one of the points Optimus is trying to make: that Strongarm and Sideswipe do not have the wisdom or experience to understand exactly why things played out the way they did. I have the feeling the two simply looked at the war records itself and not any history that came before, especially Optimus' involvement with Megatron's revolution. I don't know if that would make much of a difference for Sideswipe tbh but I think Strongarm would be able to see just a little why Optimus couldn't outright kill Megatron in the beginning like Sideswipe said he should've. Even so, going back to the records itself , it won't contain legitimately every single thing that happened. It probably only recorded decisive battles and notable events. Billions of people were involved, and with that many variables, it would be impossible to say that the war could've been won if only Optimus did something sooner. WHICH BY THE WAY MAKES THIS SO MUCH WORSE. Sideswipe (and by extension Strongarm) is basically saying that Optimus is personally responsible for dragging on an intergalactic war just because he didn't off one guy as if the most wicked bots in the face of existence werent out there making lives worse on purpose under the cover of the war and would help stretch it to continue their sick actions. As if there weren't a hundred other Megatrons ready to continue the war themselves the moment Megatron died. If I could write an essay on every reason why the war dragged on, I'll be writing until I die and never come close to finishing. Even within the small game Optimus planned there are obvious reasons why it wouldn't be a quick or easy victory if they even win: limited number of fighters (no guarantee they'd hit the max min bc rallying people to fight is difficult), no details until they got to Helex (you're not always going to know what your goal is when being sent out to fight), no resources from the state (war is expensive and getting funding is difficult). So imagine that plus way more reasons plus on a planetary scale. The scope is simply unfathomable. Anyways, I think this comment has gone on long enough lol. Excellent work as always and I'm excited but also incredibly nervous to see how this all plays out. Take care!

YOU ARE PICKING UP WHAT I AM LAYING DOWN!!!

This whole fic is one giant show. Optimus wants the idiots under Bee's control to LEARN. You've already picked up the logical reasoning behind the rules he's laid down so far. And let me tell you, its only going to get more complicated. War is a difficult and unpredictable thing. Optimus is going to make that as real as possible in this non-lethal scenario.

Is it overkill? Maybe. But if even those serving under Bumblebee don't have the barest inkling of the truth? It hints at a FAR larger problem. I am going to have so much fun writing this thing. I want to get a few chapters stockpiled and then I will post them on Ao3 and continue there :3

Thank you for enjoying my writing and giving this lovely analysis. This sort of things makes my dad and encourages me to write more.

[hmshermitcraft]

Follow up ask for the grifalsethscarbo one

Tw: abuse

It’s been…and adjust getting used to the hermits life style learning how to hide, forage, and deal with all the other crazy things apparent to hermit culture. Grian took to it surprisingly easy he always was more of a trickster even back in the village it helps he and Etho bonded over their love of blowing things up with his dynamite sticks. Mumbo took a little more convincing he was giant compared to everyone else so it took some work to make sure he stayed hidden it’s a good thing Pearl is good with disguises and illusion magic otherwise he’s certain he would have Ben caught a few times.

But the one adjusting the hardest was False all her life she trained to be a warrior and prove her worth to her mother and uncle that she could eventually lead the village!…But no in the past three months she learned her village wasn’t humanity’s last bastion but one of hundreds that were equally scattered throughout the world! Sure she still has Mumbo and Grian the three have been stuck to each other’s sides since they were little kids. But Scar the weird lovely chimera he is decided to talk with False and help her out what could go wrong!

Ok turns out a lot can go wrong when the person you’re talking to has a magic sword capable of cutting through solid obsidian like a butter knife. But the weird thing was he couldn’t tell if False was angry or sad she just seemed…lost so he went with plan B ask her friends! So he got Grian and Mumbo and asked the two why False is so on edge and when they started to explain…his heart sunk. Because it turns out apparently in their village children up to the age of 12 aren’t expected to do anything but the exact day they hit 12 their expected to train to be warriors to fight and kill hermits some don’t make it through the ones who do get food and shelter the ones who don’t get locked away until they can prove themselves again.

And False failed constantly to the point Grian and Mumbo worried if she’d make it to adulthood with them. Now Scar is a patient man who looks for the kindness in everyone’s hearts but something snapped in him when he asked how she handled the abuse and Grian’s response was “what’s that?” Scar had never felt more sad yet furious these three were raised in a town where the concept of abuse wasn’t even a thing yet their the byproducts of it!

And when he told Etho and Pearl they were just as shocked so the three collectively decided to explain what their new human lovers went through was. And to their expectations once they explained things to them the three humans put the pieces together and fury couldn’t begin to explain the looks on their faces they practically had to knock them out before they stormed off!

False is many things in her opinion kind to her family, patient to those wanting to learn, and well loved by her mother and uncle…but nope! Turns out all their excuses for making her better was just them trying to break her for the sake of a pointless crusade! She’s rip their heads off if it weren’t for the fact she was currently wrapped in about twenty different blankets…she loves the hermits but they have got to work on their methods of imprisonment. And said hermits understand why the three were angry but anger won’t solve the problem which is why the three called in some favors and tomorrow they make that village regret their methods.

first ask here!

They know the hermits they've called won't decimate the village. It's still their humans home, and they have friends there. Hopefully, it'll give them a sense of closure. And make that village second guess some things.

Mumbo and Grian are greatly enjoying feeling useful. Mumbo was always slightly too big and clumsy to be useful on hunts. It's a problem now, but the hermits listen enthusiastically to his ideas for traps and are happy to get the resources for him to try! It feels like he's being useful in a new way.

Grian also picked up several skills whilst in the village. He takes eagerly to weaving and creating clothing for the hermits and themselves - they had nothing but what was on their backs. Plus, he's managed to forage some of the herbs he recognised! It's not the best set up, but it's portable, so they'll be able to take the plants with them for cooking!

And False... It's not what she planned for her future. She was supposed to be a leader. To be competent and clever and- and she's none of that. She finally gets an opportunity to prove herself and her stupid heart got in the way again.

It doesn't feel as bad as she lets Scar weave her hair, as Pearl and Grian bicker over cooking, and Etho and Mumbo work on another crazy idea. Scar hopes one day she'll be able to see just how amazing she is.

[noahtally-famous]

happy halloween to all who acknowledge it! 🎃

enjoy this random halloween drabble? oneshot? I thought up two days ago lmao since I didn't have enough time to plan out the other shawnpher halloween idea

_______________________________________

potential title: in my defense, you scared me; a shawnpher halloween au

"Happy week of Halloween, wonderful viewers, tuning into my brand new video, hosted by the one and only amazing me, myself, and I!" Topher gestures at himself, turning the phone down so that his viewers can get a full look at his dazzling autumn outfit. "For a treat--or a trick--your one and only Tophman will be going into--" he turns around so that the looming corn maze is in perfect view of the camera. "This! Totally haunted, scary as fuck, maze filled with spooktacular frights that this guy is not going to fall for at all! Pretty swell idea, right?"

Stopping the recording and covering the camera with one hand, he leans to the side and hisses, "this is the worst idea ever."

"You wanted something spooky and cool for your Halloween video," Scarlett replies without looking up from her phone. "This is as spooky and cool as all the Halloween lovers can get."

"But I'm not a Halloween lover," Topher whines. "That maze is, like, ginormous. I could get lost in it! My perfect face can't get lost!"

Scarlett rolls her eyes. "You're the one who agreed to it. Seriously," she casts Topher's phone a disdainful look, "is there anything you won't do for your damn vlog?"

Then, as though she said something truly earth-shattering, she strides toward the maze's entrance where several other people are converged.

Topher aims his famous puppy-eyes to the third person of their little group.

Beardo makes a sympathetic wamp wamp noise before shrugging and ambling after Scarlett.

"Come on, man!" Topher calls. Is his puppy-eyes getting old? Impossible!

Hurrying over to them, he huffs. "Rodney would have had my back one-hundred percent if he were here."

"Which he's not. What a coincidence," Scarlett retorts dryly from the front.

Topher gasps. "What is that supposed to mean?!" He turns to Beardo. "Scarlett's done something to Rods!"

"Fucks sake, no--god, I meant he wouldn't be caught dead hanging around one of these scare-traps."

"Rods wouldn't leave me hanging like that, Brainiac. Something's gotta have happened to him. Did you hire a hitman or someone? My man just won't ditch me during my time of need. Scarlett!"

He's too busy wallowing the extremely important chance of him dying via publicity backlash after getting scared on camera by some crazy guy in a costume that he misses the exasperated look his friends send each other.

"It's just an hour, Prissy, don't get your hair in a knot," Scarlett grumbles. "And you dragged me for this too, so you better not flake."

Because Scarlett can be fucking terrifying when she's glaring like that behind her glasses, and Topher doesn't feel like getting his innards pulled out, he says resignedly, "Yes ma'am."

Dealing with jumpscares in a fucking corn maze while on camera is enough stress.

She gives him another one of her glares-from-hell before turning back to her phone. "Ella wishes you good luck, by the way," she says, poking at the screen--probably typing a hasty response back to the only person she ever replies quickly to: her girlfriend. "Says something about you doing fine and shit." She scoffs.

Beardo snickers.

"Dude!" Topher says, betrayed. That's the second time tonight! Man, he wants Rodney here so badly. He just knows the big guy would have his back.

"Sorry, Toph," Beardo mumbles sheepishly.

Easy for him to say. He's just in it to get quality footage for his and Ella's duo-videostream; he can walk away with a paycheck because apparently some fancy smancy producers like their videos enough to promote them.

Topher really wishes he was famous.

They assemble in front of the maze as the sky grows dark and a chill picks up in the air. Surprisingly, there are a hell lot of people, jostling for room; kids ribbing each other, couples already snuggled up or making out, even people videoing their experience like they're doing. Topher scoffs, watching them from the corner of one eye; their etiquette is so wrong, how do they even have subscribers?

"Why would anyone want to unironically do this shitshow in the first place?" he mutters, pulling his thin fleece-jacket tighter around him.

"For fun?" Beardo offers helpfully.

"Thanks, man. This is totally the classic definition of the word fun."

"Topher," Scarlett says, "what have we talked about the world not revolving around you?"

"That it's bullshit?"

Scarlett rolls her eyes so hard he's impressed she doesn't get a headache. Before she can respond, there's an announcement counting down the seconds before they're free to enter the maze, alongside the usual warnings of there being scary ghouls and flesh-eating monsters ready for tasty victims. The shiver that runs down Topher's back is fully due to the breeze, nothing more.

"Aaaand...three...two...one...scram!" the gravelly voice laughs sinisterly as everyone dashes into the maze. "May the best survive this Halloween night!" Paired with a cliche organ sound effect that Beardo can totally do better.

This whole thing is such a scam, why is he even doing this?

Oh yeah, for the views.

After three or four turns, he starts to hear the screams. He's clutching Beardo's arm before he can think about it. His solace is that Beardo did the same, squeezing him to his chest, his video camera bumping uncomfortably against Topher's spine.

"Simple scare effects, and people being scared of superficial ambushes by people in costumes," Scarlett scoffs, hardly flinching. She gives the two boys an unimpressed look. "Come on, or do you want to hang around here when it really gets dark?"

That gets them scrambling away from one another and hurrying after her.

Several feet later, they reach a crossroads--diverging into three parts. Which Topher thinks is convenient considering there are three of them.

"Split up?" Beardo asks nervously, his voice hardly a whisper.

Scarlett nods decisively. "Seems like it. No objections?"

Topher has plenty of objections, but he doesn't want to seem like the scardey-cat of the bunch; not when his friends are up to the idea. Plus he does need footage for his video.

When no one says anything, Scarlett nods. "Splendid, meet you at the other side." She takes the path to the far left, muttering as she does, "thank goodness Max isn't here, he would have lost his mind and his bowels."

Beardo pats him heavily on the shoulder--like that is supposed to be reassuring!--and takes the one on the far right, leaving Topher with the path at the center.

The dark, winding foresty center-path that...was it that dark five seconds ago? And were the trees really that tall?

Okay, deep breaths, Toph. It's just a silly maze, surrounded by a bunch of silly people in scary costumes ready to give you a heart attack. None of it is actually real so get your head screwed on and do it for the 'gram!

He fumbles for his phone, switching it on to recording as he creeps to the start of the path. Videoing himself helps; it emphasizes the idea that nothing else matters except for him and the screen. No creep can jumpscare him into public humiliation when he's in full record-mode.

"Here we are, amazingly beautiful yous. The dreaded dangerous path of the maze I must take alone. Will I survive? You bet I will! God won't kill off a face this perfect and an ass this gorgeous so soon--" a crunch of leaves "--what was that? I mean, that is nothing I can't handle! Leaves? Pfft! What can a bunch of leaves do to, holy fucking shit!"

He's turning the corner when a large shape leaps at him from behind a particularly large tree.

(Okay, so the shape wasn't really large--actually it was a tad shorter than Topher himself, and more so on the leaner side.)

But when Topher takes one look at the thing's masked face, covered in distorted scratches and horrifying renditions of flesh ripped off its face, all rational thought flies out the window. Scarlett's words of the jumpscarers being people in costumes? No recollection. Especially when something long and silver glints in the sky as the figure raises its arm.

Topher screams, all high-pitched and utterly terrified, flailing and stumbling back. His phone flips out of his hand and he curses himself for it because there's a fucking maniac in front of him about to slash him to ribbons. All he can think is not the face!

Like a godsend, a coherent thought hits him, and he puts to use the few self-defense classes his parents had forced him to take due to being related to popular photogenic people.

One leg kicks out, connecting with something.

The figure goes down with a yell that's drowned by Topher still screaming his head off. Dropping to his knees, he gropes the leaf-strewn ground until--aha!--his hand closes on the familiar shape of his phone.

Adrenaline is the only explanation for how he manages to turn the flashlight setting and shine the light on whoever the fuck had accosted him.

"What. The. Fuck?!" is all that comes out of his mouth.

The guy--because for fuck's sake, obviously, it wasn't a creature from the dead, it was an ordinary guy dressed as one--lay sprawled on the ground, clutching his groin.

Huh, guess those self-defense classes Topher barely listened to did pay off--always go for the face or the groin. The only takeaway he got from the experience.

"Dude!" groans the guy who literally jumpscared him, and he's acting like Topher did something wrong! "What kind of a reaction is that?"

"Um, hello?!" All the fear melts into annoyance. "You're the one who thought leaping at me with a--what the fuck is that thing on your hand?"

"A hook!" The guy displays it--in other words waving it around with too little care to be healthy. Topher leans away from it. "It's a prop! Haven't you been jumpscared before, man?"

Not by lunatics who stay too in character, Topher thinks mutinously, because that dumb reaction was filmed and thank god, this isn't a live stream or he would never have heard the end of it...

Fuck.

"Fuck! My video!"

"What?" asks the guy confusedly, still groaning on the ground and clutching his groin. "I almost got incapacitated in a way I never expected to, and you're worried about your video?"

Topher hardly hears him. He swipes at his screen, brushing aside the dirt and leaves, relieved that the screen isn't cracked, and, yes!, the video was intact too. He hates refilming stuff--and he sure as hell wasn't planning on stepping foot here a second time.

"Okay, everything's safe, we can hold the fire! Now..." he focuses back on the guy who should literally be filed for criminal assault after this fiasco. "What were you saying?"

The guy stares. "I was giving you shit for braining my privates, but I guess your video or whatever was more important than my bits?"

Something about 'braining my privates' sounds off, but Topher had gone through a traumatic event, he isn't about to start analyzing grammar. That's Scarlett's job.

Speaking of Scarlett...

"Dude. Dude, dude, dude, chill the heck out," Topher interrupts whatever tirade the other guy is in the middle of. Ignoring his affronted look, Topher sighs. "Okay fine, sorry or whatever, even though it should be me you should be apologizing to--"

"Me? Apologize to you? That's like a zombie asking politely for some brains!"

Oookay...talk about weird.

But unfortunately, Topher needs this guy. He isn't going to spend another second alone in this blasted maze. Not with his nerves so frayed. Plus he deserves an escort after all this shit.

"Cool, great, awesome, uh, zombie-boy." He holds a hand out. "Now are you willing to listen to me?"

The other guy frowns at him. He shrugs and accepts the hand. His fingers are bigger than Tophers, and rough and calloused--probably from doing this goddamn job and scaring shit out of poor innocents.

Topher hoists him up harder than intended. Yeah, he's got a bit of pettiness in him, but can you blame him?

The guy groans, stumbling a bit, his legs joining together at the knees as he winces. "Damn, for a typical streamer, you sure kick hard."

Wow, this guy is seriously gunning for worst conversationalist ever.

Being the bigger person, Topher doesn't deem that with a response for all of five seconds. Then, to satisfy the itch, while picking at his nails, he corrects, "vlogger, actually. And I'm a very popular one, might I add. You should check out my videos, you'd learn a thing or two. Or several."

The guy blinks, adjusts his beanie. "Uh, what the hell are you talking about?"

Standing next to him, Topher sees that he is right in his initial assumption that the guy is shorter than him. He's got maybe an inch. His off-blue beanie is ruffled with leaves and grime and tilted to one side, exposing wayward brown hair; his face still has that absurd makeup on but some of it has rubbed off from the kerfuffle that Topher can spot a faint scruff and startling hazel-green eyes peering at him through the flesh-ripped artistic rendition. His costume looks generic--vest, sweater, jeans, boots--save for the strategically painted rips and tears and blood on them. When he shifts, his hair nudges the back of his neck, stuck to it with sweat and dirt.

Topher has to admit, scares and annoyances aside, he can acknowledge a solid makeup job. And this guy definitely has it.

Also those eyes. Totally photogenic. His heart beats a little faster--probably still from the adrenaline.

"Hey? Are you listening to me? What're you staring at?" the other guy grumbles, shooting him a suspicious side-eye.

Topher wills his face not to burn. Come on, it's not his fault if a photogenic feature catches his eye--he's been scared to half-death, for gods sake, let him salvage a little familiarity!

"Trying to guess a name to that grime-infested face," he retorts instead.

"Infested?" asks the other guy, wide-eyed.

"Your face, idiot. It's covered in dirt."

The other guy touches a hand to his face as though just realizing it. Topher pointedly clears his throat. The air has turned chillier, he wants to go home and park his ass in front of the fireplace.

“Oh.” The guy looks up. “Shawn.”

Shawn. Finally.

“Topher.”

They don’t shake hands, just eye each other warily.

“Say Shawn,” says Topher conversationally. “How about as compensation for nearly killing me, you get me out of this place?”

“You’re kidding,” Shawn shakes his head incredulously. “You’re the one who kicked me in the nuts. If anyone deserves compensation for anything, it’s me!”

“You’re the one who’s such a shit scarer.”

“You’re the weirdo whose first reaction is to kick someone!”

“Right, I’m the weirdo here.” Topher eyes him skeptically.

“Uh, duh, clearly. You were scared, dude, admit it.”

“Not a chance.”

On cue, a series of maniacal laughter and screams ring the air. Topher jolts.

“Yep, not scared,” snickers Shawn.

Topher flips him off.

But Shawn’s on a roll. “I get that you were scared of my getup—hook-handed ghouls are the perfect type of scare—but those screams? They weren’t even on our path. Damn you do scare easily.”

“Oh, is that what you’re supposed to be?” Topher shoots back. “I was thinking a zombie given how dumb you look—like a pile of rags.”

“A zombie?” Shawn’s eyes open wide. “You’re kidding me, man! The only time I’d willingly pretend to be the undead is when they destroy the world and humanity in it.”

Of course that’s what Shawn fixates on in Topher’s response. And he’s not even going to think about how Shawn had said when. Makes sense that a guy like him is also obsessed with something that’s only in the movies—not that Topher watches those kinds of stuff; thinking about the apocalypse leads him down a troublesome path of lack of hair care products, facial scrubs, and cameras. Talk about drab!

“You’re super mega weird, dude,” he tells him.

Shawn gestures around them, encompassing their entire situation. “No offense, dude, but my concerns are justified. I’m not the guy freaked out by people in costumes.”

For fucks sake.

Honestly, being the stubborn shit he is, Topher could’ve gone on for hours, but at that moment, the light from his phone screen catches his eye and he remembers that he’s still recording. What will his viewers think of him arguing with one of the staff members when they expected a spooky Halloween video?

“Okay whatever, you’re this super stoic guy that Halloween can’t come near to, that’s awesome. Now can you fucking get me out of this maze?”

“Dude, I can’t just leave my job and go with you—“

“Man, you could’ve killed me. I’m pretty sure you’ll be doing those people a favor.”

Shawn frowns, opening his mouth to say something that Topher knows is not a yes Topher I would love to and Topher really doesn’t want to deal with that.

Bribery. People like bribes, right? What can he give in return—something Shawn won’t be able to resist.

“I’ll get you apple cider?” He offers. The only autumn-themed drink he can think of that this place will sell.

Shawn’s expression doesn’t change and Topher resigns himself to a solitary trek in the maze filled with more jumpscares. He tries not to look too disappointed—plays it up for the camera—and rubs his arms as he goes to turn back the way he came when Shawn speaks up.

“That’s the wrong way.”

Topher scowls, turns to face him. “Well the expert isn’t being much help here. Guess I’m gonna have to wither away and die here surrounded by cornstalks. My viewers will hunt you down, mark my words.”

Shawn rolls his eyes, mutters “jeez you’re so dramatic” which Topher is about to take great offense to, if not for what Shawn says next.

“Fried dough too.”

Topher pauses, bewildered. “What?”

“Apple cider and fried dough. This place has the best ones. You should try one too, my recommendation.”

And, well, this is really one of the most absurd situations Topher has ever been in.

But as long as it means getting the hell out of here, he’ll pay for anything Shawn wants. He’ll even give him a shoutout and cameo in his video.

“Fine. Once we’re out, apple cider and fried dough are on me.”

Halfway turned again, he sees Shawn squinting at him.

Oh, what now?

“Are you sure this isn’t a date or something?”

Topher chokes, the cold air burning down his esophagus as he wheezes. Shawn, the bastard, doesn’t even move to help despite being the cause of Topher’s current predicament; only watches in puzzled suspicion.

“What? No of course it’s not! Why are you even—that’s ridiculous—I mean—I don’t—you can’t just say that in front of the camera—“

God, his face feels so red, he sounds deranged. Is he suffering from a stroke?

He should definitely edit this part out.

Shawn watches him for a second longer before nodding. “Cool. ‘Cause all the secrecy was giving me the wrong impression. Kind of an odd first date, eh? That’s what Jasmine would say if she were here.”

Wait.

What?

What is even happening right now?

And then, as though everything isn’t confusing enough, Topher thinks, is this a date?

Does he want it to be one?

Hell no! Not with zombie boy and his mismatched clothes, his shitty scare tactics, his absurdly detailed makeup, his apish social skills, and his stupidly photogenic eyes.

Never. Of course not.

Then why was he stuttering and stumbling around like a baby foal? Topher is never out of control, no matter what the circumstance. He’s had to reject countless admirers before. Why is this any different?

Is it the adrenaline? It’s got to be the adrenaline. There’s no way he’s having a…crush. On someone so...opposite.

He’s overthinking this. Shawn was just messing around, and Topher’s reading way too much into it.

"This is not a date," he hisses at the blinking red light on his phone. Just in case his viewers aren't aware.

Amidst his dilemma, Shawn pushes aside a branch that’s in the way of the opposite direction Topher had been going, calling over his shoulder, "I'll protect you from the big bad ghouls hanging around,” he flashes his hook, “but if there are any zombies you’re on your own, man.”

Okay, yeah, no.

That's fucking it.

This guy.

Topher has no idea if he's serious or not; ribbing around or being sincere; either way, if none of the other creepies in the maze kill them first, he'll kill Shawn himself.

Once he gets out of this maze.

And, he supposes, once he gets Shawn that fried dough and cider.

Because there's no way Topher's going to ruin his public image thanks to some zombie-obsessed guy preaching shit about this entire ordeal.

Buy his silence or whatever.

[paragonrobits]

in all honesty i think the 'if we kill all the bad people and CEOs then the world will be happy forever and we'll never have to do anything hard or worry about systemic injustice ever again' is extremely damaging to any kind of political or revolutionary rhetoric, and part of it is that it leads very strongly to the same mentality that basically refuses to do anything in the political process but just wait around for the Glorious Revolution, and of course that its an appealing revenge fantasy, but also that the kind of people espousing this aren't actually going to do anything and it does very bad things to actual... well, actions to make things better.

Essentially, its a revenge fantasy writ large. It's the kind of thing espoused by the people who think of mass executing the Rich or really any nebulous group that is defined as being responsible for all the world's ills; a glorious heroic defeat of Ultimate Evil after which everything will be better forever.

It's not that simple. It will never work that way. At BEST, even if you somehow could accomplish that, more people would just fill that void. And to be blunt, the issue is not that some people are bad; it is that this is the result of systematic injustice that is to some degree baked in. Even if you remove them, that does not address the reason why they come to exist. Furthermore, it simplifies the actual cause of human suffering to such an extreme that at BEST its lazy. At worst you're actively ignoring history just to feel smug about your hypothetical revolution that will never ever happen

let's examine this. if you genuinely believe that CEOs and capitalism as a whole are the root of all human evil and suffering and, if removed, this will make everything better forever, this kind of fails to address the point that people being shitty to each other is older than recorded history, this is a manifestation of the problem and not the problem itself! There are mass graves of murdered people going back to Neolithic times. The human capacity for cruelty is older than our ability to record it in the written word.

Its not like there were stone age CEOs in fancy furs making up the concept of profits as an excuse to kill people. To be plain, capitalism as a concept is EXTREMELY recent. It technology only dates back a few hundred years at best, and it is specifically an outgrowth of mercantilism, which roughly appeared around the 1600s. So out of five thousand years of recorded history, that's an indescribly TINY, statistically meaningless shred of time.

Are you trying to suggest that human evil only started then?

So if you DO want to make that claim, what do you make of the mass slavery empire that was Rome, as an example? Or the countless examples of empires rising and falling, of people giving the order to kill lots of other people for short-term gain or political expediency?

Human evil goes back a long, long way. It's not something that can be fixed by just going 'get rid of the Bad People'. If it was, then those Bad People would never have existed. The entire concept of just wiping out entire groups and deciding that'll fix the world is the cause of many massacres.

Being smug and fantasizing about revenge won't fix anything. Constantly making snide and inappropriate jokes about everything won't fix anything either. There's no easy fix and no simple answers, and in all honesty, you can't just go 'once we kill all the CEOs human nature will see to it that we will work together for the common good'.

Because if that was honestly true, do you really think we'd ever have SEEN CEOs show up the first place?

[politicsbad]

@eurypterid57-blog

It appears either you blocked me or tumblr won't cooperate, in either case it is was 2AM when I saw your reblogs so I come with a response, please understand I am trying to mean in this in a calm adult manner as no doubt we are both would like to be done with this quickly and politely.

I figured we should save the best for last so I'll start with this

While yes, I recognize during this war Israel has killed hundreds of thousands of civilians and I do recognize Israel is not safer than Gaza when it comes to LGBTQ rights, you forget that soon as Hamas took control of Gaza, 4 gay men were killed as early as 2000 by hamas militants. You can fact-check this with the European Parliament website, and these killings never stopped even today.

I said on another post that while Israel is probably not as safe regarding laws, travel to Greece may be the best choice as same sex marriage has been allowed since 1951.

You have to understand both sides are seriously religious to the religions they follow, Hamas claims to be Muslim (but do not follow the Muslim book of war) and Israel, well-, it's kinda obvious. The point is neither side is good regarding those rights or when it comes to the safety of civilians, especially considering hamas won't let the civilians flee or else they lose their human shields, there is no easy way to do it especially in a place like this. Which leads me to the next topic

Never thought I'd be talking about Hitler during a time like this but here I am

Lets all be clear here, this probably isn't the finest thing you've said, this could use work and some self reflection. We cool? Okay now-

Hitler didn't teach Israel how to commit genocide, he simply killed them, and it obviously wasn't just Jews. It was French, Polish, Czech, Belgian, Dutch, Luxembourgers, Norwegian, Danish, British, Yugoslav, Greek, Ukrainian, Belarusian, Russian, Lithuanian, Latvian, Estonian, along with many ethnic minorities.

If you think Hitler taught the Israelis then I guess from your view you have bigger problems.

Or we can call Hitler what he is, the most evil person to exist. Because he killed gays, disabled people, people with mental disabilities, basically if you were not pure Aryan you were doomed to be screwed.

Thank you guys for taking time out of your day to read this, so while you're browsing tumblr maybe look at the history of the region, the history of the countries, and history of the leaders you're yelling about before talking.

This does not mean I excuse the Israelis but I refuse to stand with hamas and their actions.

Hamas is not Palestine.

[omgkalyppso]

For Étoile/Astarion please:

🍰 What is 'their song'? Officially or unofficially.

🩷 What is the sweetest thing they've done for one another?

🤎 How do they comfort each other?

💋 What is their favorite place to kiss their partner? Do either enjoy 'leaving a mark'?

For Étoile/Halsin please:

🩷 What is the sweetest thing they've done for one another?

🤎 How do they comfort each other?

♪(^∇^*) Thank you for the ask!

Étoile and Astarion

🍰 I'm not sure what officially and unofficially might mean in this context.

A song from their playlist which I wouldn't give them awareness of even in modern fic is Hot Tea by half-alive. Sharing a lyric video because the official video of the song is weird and I am not a fan of the interpretative dance in it fdhtdfghgdf :

A song I'd be willing to give them awareness of in a modern setting is Wicked Game by Chris Isaak which I'm inspired to take off of Neil's Astarion playlist. It has very strong vibes of one of the last songs played at an event where people are inebriated and tired, swaying slowly; or could just be something that Astarion turns off on a radio for being a little too on the nose; or fits the mood of an intimate scene like the love scene in Dirty Dancing to me. Anyway:

🩷 <- I can copy and paste this but I can't see this emoji, whatever it is.

I suppose it depends on your definition of sweet, because I imagine I could think up some gifts and surprises, recollections and whatever else. Instead, I'll pick pivotal moments of "sweetness," which I think if I remember right I told some various friends on discord but aren't exactly me repeating myself here.

Raphael's pronouncement of victory is something I hope to one day explore in fic for Étoile. Initially I'd speculated that it could have happened even the very same night as the long rest after the netherbrain, with Astarion's last scene before the credits. But now there's the epilogue and to honour something like it, that means it's at least six months later — I'll probably place it nearer 2 years post-canon, with Raphael's intended return 10 years post-canon.

Étoile's anxiety loses some of it's bite this way, but to re-iterate. They (are and) feel so responsible, and they feel that as a result of this that they are and will be so alone in having to sound out a solution and / or battle plan to face Raphael. They expect that if a solution can be found that this time stopping the person who wields the Crown will demand their life. They won't be able to picture the vampire spawn's recent, precarious alliance, living situation, lifestyle, can handle both their and Astarion's sudden departure. They imagine themself hindered in travel and resources trying to come up with an answer, and Astarion being unable to follow, whether across the Material Plane or at least into Baator, where they don't even know if there's a night-day cycle or whether the fires that burn are ones that a vampire could stand in the presence of. If it's hard for them to admit to all this other shame, it's easy for them to be vulnerable in conversation with Astarion about how they wanted this life with him, with his their people, and how after a few hundred years if it hadn't come up that they would have asked if he'd wanted to turn them, which is as much as a commitment as either of them could make.

Anyway, it's sweet of Astarion to hold back an "I told you so" for more than a week, to reassure Étoile that their people will be fine with the pair of them coming and going because they will have to be, among any other number of reassurances he makes. It is sweet of him to recognize that he could take this as a cue to step away from "an adventurer's" problems (with all the problems of community, politics, lifestyle and "inheritance" that he has had to deal with since the end of the Gate's last disaster) and away from all semblance of "commitment" that had been so alien and chafing and frightful and difficult in this relationship; and instead decide that even this impossible challenge and all the other problems were perhaps just as rewarding (if not moreso) than the domestic rewards — never as an elf nor as a vampire had he ever wanted an unremarkable life.

For Étoile's moment of sweetness, I may have spoken before about how I have dialogue for a "mirror scene" blocked out. I waffle on whether it'll get written not just because I have so many wips, but also because I worry Everyone who writes Astarion has written a mirror scene and so I worry I bring little new to the table. Even so, my mirror scene has Astarion's final moment of "Just tell me I'm beautiful and we can call it a day" result in anger. Astarion whining, exasperated, "It doesn't feel good. Why doesn't it feel good? Is it because I asked?" And this resulting in an extra conversation in the shadow-cursed lands before the hug scene, where part of my blocked dialogue includes the following; they are laying spooned together:

Astarion: [after a breath] When you called me beautiful … it was the first time in two hundred years that it wasn't said by a victim or someone … looking to take advantage. Whose words meant nothing and were … an expectation. Part of a process. An undignified one. It was the first time in two hundred years the word wasn't Cazador's. To call me beautiful while I was flayed open, or bleeding from the mouth, or— [he tenses, not quite ready to cry. Étoile squeezes and slowly takes his hand] Étoile: Your body is your own. [They bring his fingers to their lips for a kiss, Astarion chooses to follow the movement to face them] My words are mine. I don't want to make you feel like that. Astarion: I know. Étoile: [Releases Astarion's hand to put their hand on his chest] I'm glad you know. I want to say these things anyway. [Astarion strokes back some of their hair] I want you to hear them.

And how this scene would fucking fly to the forefront of Étoile's mind in addition to their moments of sexual intimacy during the hug scene. They would have the knee-jerk reaction of those moments having been all lies, of themself and their body being revolting to Astarion for an unknown how-long, until it's more obvious to them that Astarion's point is that these moments weren't as repulsive as they should've been, and far more sincere than he could have stomached without coming forward. It is these moments of communication and respect which endear Astarion to Étoile and earn his shaky trust.

Also shout out to Astarion for being "sweet" enough to travel across four countries with Étoile for them to see their home (and their mother?) one last time with living eyes before vampirism. (Even knowing this was going to be difficult as all hell if Aranea's still living on her mountain.)

🤎 While this is kind of answered in the last emoji, I feel like this is extremely conditional. Étoile needing to be comforted in grief is not the same as them needing to be comforted after being slighted publicly. Astarion needing to be comforted because of the oppressive weight of days of earth overhead in the Underdark is not the same as needing to be comforted because one of his siblings (Violet) trying to kill one another (Yousen). Sometimes it's an embrace and conversation, sometimes it's threatening to eviscerate one's enemies (sometimes it's following through). A lot of the time for them it's space and an invitation of their presence, whether that's a cup of tea or distraction like paperwork / letters / a reminder of life outside of what ails them.

💋 Étoile far prefers to be marked than doing the marking, but that doesn't mean their lovers don't end up with the occasional fading signs of intimacy. Their own most obvious such marks are more permanent even before vampirism anyway, and all from Astarion; scars of bites, technically sources of feeding but also signs of play, on the right side of their neck, on their left breast up close to their breast plate / center of their chest, on the inside of their left thigh. Indicative of Astarion enjoying where he can, or could once pre-vampirism, feel the pulse under their skin loudest. Other such bites didn't scar, and others still were not for feeding and healed even more swiftly. Étoile would say their favorite place to kiss Astarion is his mouth, both for the pleasure of his lips and the danger of his teeth; if needing to select somewhere "more interesting" then in public they'd say at the center of his brow, and in private they'd still flush in embarrassment about how they think it's somehow rude to choose his ass.

Étoile and Halsin

🩷 The sweetest thing Halsin does for Étoile (and Astarion), besides keep them in his heart, is construct an underground shelter (the first of many) in his Moonrise Village to alleviate the burden of the far more numerous population in their care, even by a few bodies, even temporarily.

I repeat myself a lot, but I think Étoile's sweetest gesture to Halsin is near the end of his long life, counselling on what an unlife could be, offering to turn him either within the laws and context of their vampire community or secretly otherwise, with reassurance that they would happily accept him into their home if all beasts and men turned from him as a decree from his Oakfather for the abberation of vampirism, and the sentiment "if I meet you in hell then it's not hell."

Prior to that I think a visit from Étoile (and Astarion) to Halsin's Moonrise Village: an appointment kept despite how others in the Village might be absent on their own adventures or lost to time, would be the sweetest thing in Halsin's biased opinion. Six days travel (twelve both ways) just to see him? Not for healing, nor counsel, nor to take on more people or projects of druidic magic or infrastructure. Not a plight of adventure, not a disappointment for it being just him. Just a visit, to share his company and whatever that entails; when they could have just stayed home, rescheduled until others returned and the visit felt of greater worth.

🤎 I stand by comfort being highly conditional, but I do think Halsin is far more susceptible to words of comfort. Étoile talks to Halsin in the context of faith, while theirs is for Auril and his is for Silvanus. It helps. Étoile is comforted by how earnest Halsin is; he was very critical when they first met, and remains just as free with his criticisms when people lose his respect. There are oceans of time between the moments of Halsin's impatience with Étoile, and there were times where he was more forgiving than he should've been because scenarios were simply beyond his ability to distinguish the kindest path (like with the Crown and Raphael). But even so, Étoile is reassured when Halsin offers comfort or advice, trusting that he would still be straightforward if their grief or embarrassment or frustration was otherwise unworthy of them.

[celticcrossanon]

So if Meghan has a record of being dodgy on her tax returns like what she allegedly did with The Bench, does that mean she comes under closer scrutiny in the future by the IRS, or do they just extract the fine/fix the tax return and move on?

It depends on the situation. It’s hard to find out because it’s so circumstantial.

If you’re late on taxes, you’re fined 5% of your unpaid taxes per month. It’s not deducted and it’s not automatic. You have to pay it yourself and it keeps accumulating until you do pay it. If you don’t pay your taxes and you don’t pay the fines, you can get jail time by that’s pretty rare.

It’s really easy to get a six month extension to pay your taxes. Everyone’s eligible for the extension and most people get it no problem. So if you can’t make the April deadline, you ask for an extension. The issue here is that the extension isn’t automatic; you have to request it. There are people who think it’s automatic and are surprised when they get the fine letters. If you get an extension, then you don’t get fined till you miss the extension deadline.

What it depends on is how much money is missing from your taxes or how much is unpaid. A couple dollars here and there, the IRS isn’t going to care and you’re probably ok. But if it’s something like millions or a few hundred thousand, they’re going to pay attention and probably audit you to make sure you’re not hiding things. Sometimes they audit you right away (which basically means you have to show all of your receipts and paperwork so they can make sure you aren’t hiding any money). Sometimes they put you under watch and will just monitor your records for a couple years.

But we really don’t know what Meghan’s prior tax issues mean. We assume her tax returns are being watched but we just don’t know. The IRS (and a lot of our regulatory law enforcement agencies) is that they never announce what they’re investigating till there’s an arrest, a court filing, or a formal report.

And also, before anyone goes FOIA-ing the IRS for Meghan’s tax returns, they changed the law a couple years ago; third parties cannot request someone else’s tax returns or tax data. You can only request and receive your own tax info.

But here’s another thing: Meghan will never run for President of the United States or federal office here because not only will she have to give up her beloved title, she also has to make her tax returns public. If there’s one thing we all agree on about Meghan, it’s that she loves money and loves pretending she has millions more than she actually does. Running for office means releasing her tax returns, which means she can’t lie about those millions she has.

Hi Nonny,

Thank you for such a detailed response. It is very different to the tax laws where I live. So, like you said, it appears that the answer is 'it depends', and we don't have enough information to say any more than that.

I have seen other people say the same thing about Meghan - that she won't run for political office because it would mean giving up her title and making her tax returns public. She may be arrogant enough to try it, thinking that the rules do not apply to her, but I can't see that ending well.

[trainsinanime]

I've said it diplomatically twice now, but I think I need to be absolutely clear here:

Stop making stupid posts that make me want to defend Tumblr's Core Product Strategy!

I don't want to defend that document! I am worried about large parts of it! But so much of the replies are just so badly informed, badly argued that it makes me embarrassed. Here's some recent examples of fallacies that make me want to tear my hair out:

This poll proves that users like the way things are now! Ah yes, a Tumblr poll, the most unbiased of sources, of course. With 136k replies! That's definitely meaningful on a website with several hundred million monthly active users, right? [The sources I've found differ wildly] Self-selection bias? Never heard of it.

I definitely know how Tumblr's algorithm works and it's physically impossible for an algorithm to help small creators! Come on, guys. If you're concerned about an algorithm only boosting established creators, yes, so am I. But if you're saying "that's certain", Tumblr will just say "well ours won't" and ignore it.

Tumblr is totally easy to use, staff just refuses to explain it properly or do the very easy things required to fix what is broken. Don't be silly. Tumblr is full of weird cruft. Every day you see people who don't know the difference between sending an ask, submitting a post or sending a direct message. We got both reblogs and replies, and both suck for longer multi-party discussions. Tumblr still asks you for a post type despite that not being necessary anymore. And then there are all the ways in which people use tags, and expect others to use tags. Tumblr takes some getting used to, we just don't see it because we've all gotten used to it. And don't give me any "just add a tutorial" shit. Design is how it works. Websites shouldn't need tutorials, and users won't read tutorials, and won't remember tutorials once they reach a point where they need them.

I must once again stress that Tumblr asserts that there are a large number of people on this site who aren't having a good time because they can't find interesting blogs to follow and nobody is finding the stuff that they post. That's a statement that you have to deal with in your response. Going, "my Tumblr poll, held among people who use Tumblr a lot and are happy here, proves that everybody likes Tumblr as it is" is not a valid response. It's just silly. The "pissing on the poor" reading comprehension thing is supposed to be an insult, not a goal to strive towards.

Read the posts by staff again until you understand what they're actually saying (they even clarified that the chronological timeline will remain, by the way). And once you've done that, get mad at them because they're saying, "we want to be more annoying for users who aren't logged in". That's one of the parts that I'm the most annoyed about.