#sometimes i hate what scrolls up on my dash | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

trickphotography2 · 4 months

Text

Santa's North Island Delivery Service

Stuck at work, Bradley is missing his daughter's first Christmas Eve. But when the squadron decides to turn the hanger into Santa's Workshop, the pilot is able to sneak away to spend a little time with his girls. (Inspired by a true story; Rooster x Reader Christmas fluff)

Word count: 2.4K

Ao3 | Masterlist

-------------------------------------------------------

Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw was officially having the worst Christmas Eve. Not only was he stuck at work doing absolutely nothing, he was missing his daughter’s first Christmas Eve.

With his boots kicked onto his desk, he leaned back in his chair and scrolled through the photos you’d sent him throughout the night. At eight months old, Bennett was too young to really know what was going on, but it didn’t make it suck any less. He wanted to see her lying under the tree, colored lights reflecting in her eyes. (He’d already set that picture as his home screen.)

“Hey, Lieutenant?” A knock on his door drew his attention, and he looked up to see Petty Officer Second Class Wagner, one of the head mechanics, standing there.

“Yeah?” Rooster said, sitting up. Even though he outranked the enlisted man, Wagner was one of the most respected non-commissioned officers in the squadron. To cheer up the men stuck working the night shift, he’d organized a movie night after doing a Christmas movie bracket throughout the week - National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation had barely edged out Die Hard.

“You got anything at home that needs to be assembled before going under the tree?”

“Huh?”

“Any gifts for the kiddo that need to be put together? We’re getting a list of stops together for the trucks.” Rooster gave him a confused look, which made the man chuckle. “We’re bored, so we figured we’d set up some presents for everyone’s kids in the hangar. The first group of guys are heading out now to get stuff, and then we’ll swap.”

“Oh, uh… yeah, I think there’s a couple things. Let me check with my girlfriend.” With a nod, Wagner left, leaving Rooster to stare at his phone. After a moment, he called you.

“Hey, babe,” you said, answering on the third ring. He could hear babbling in the background.

“Hey. Have you started getting things together to go under the tree?”

“Not yet. We’re just finishing up bath time, and then we’re gonna get cookies out for Santa and go to bed, aren’t we, Benny girl?”

“Any chance you can hold off for about an hour?” Bradley asked, unable to keep from smiling at the sound of his daughter giggling.

“Are you getting off work early?” It was hard to miss the sound of hope and excitement in your voice, and he hated to dash it.

“No, but I’m gonna run home and pick up some stuff.” You hummed.

“Okay. I’ll try and keep her up. I’ll see you in a bit.”

“Alright, love you.”

“Love you too.” Hanging up the call, Bradley dropped his head and tapped the phone against his forehead. It was only your second Christmas together and the first as parents, and he was already missing things. You’d assured him it was okay and that you understood that his job sometimes meant spending time apart, but he hated it.

“You’re a mean one, Benny Grinch,” you sang, gently bouncing your daughter as she howled. Letting your head fall back, you blew out a long breath. The crying fit couldn’t last forever.

Though overly tired, she was fighting against going to sleep. It was a nightly battle, but one that Bradley usually helped to fight. You’d learned early on that he had what you lovingly called the Sleeper Hold - the minute Benny was tucked into her father’s arms, her eyes would start to close. Shifting her onto your shoulder, you glanced at your watch and sighed. As much as you wanted to wait to finish the bedtime routine until Bradley got home, it was getting late. “Alright, sweetie,” you cooed, grabbing your water bottle and retreating to the nursery. “Let’s get settled in.”

With the white noise machine and night light on, you settled into the rocking chair and lifted your shirt. Benny rooted for a moment before latching onto your nipple, making you inhale sharply at the pinch. Digging your toes into the carpet, you gently rocked back and forth, holding your daughter’s gaze as she ate. “Merry Christmas, Bennett,” you whispered, stroking her cheek. Her eyes fluttered closed as she grunted. You closed your eyes, comforted by the warm weight of your daughter in your arms and the tugging at your breast.

“Hey.” The soft, raspy voice roused you from the trance you’d fallen into, and you lifted your head to see Bradley standing in the doorway.

“Hey,” you replied sleepily. His long legs ate up the space between you until he was beside you, leaning down to press his lips to your forehead. The familiar scratch of his mustache had your eyes fluttering closed again.

“She done?” Bradley asked, a large hand coming down to cup your daughter’s head.

“Should be soon.” At his touch, Benny startled from her doze, suckling hard and squirming.

“You need anything?”

“The sleeper hold in a minute to finish her off.” In the dim lighting, you saw Bradley grin before he leaned down again to brush his lips against yours.

“I can do that.” As if on cue, Bennett released your breast, her breath a soft pant against your tender skin. Without a word, Bradley took her and settled her on his shoulder, patting her back. “Hey, Benny, were you good for mommy tonight?” He paced the nursery as you reached for one of the breast pads and cleaned up. When a loud burp sounded, you heard him chuckle. “That’s my girl.”

You took a moment to appreciate the sight before you - your boyfriend in his tight khaki uniform cooing to your daughter as she rubbed her face into his shoulder to fight sleep. “How long do you have before you have to head back?”

“I’ve got about thirty minutes,” Bradley replied, turning on his heel to face you while pacing the room. “Benny girl, the sooner you go to sleep, the sooner Santa comes.”

“I’m not sure she’s old enough for that bribery to work yet.” His grin blinded as he kissed the back of her head, lightly bouncing her.

“Gonna be fun when she is. We’ll track him with NORAD and everything.” Shaking your head, you stood and kissed both of their cheeks.

“You get her down, and I’ll start pulling out the gifts.”

“Put aside anything that needs to be put together or wrapped, and I’ll take it to the hanger. Apparently, that’s what we’re gonna do for the rest of the shift.” With a mocking salute, you left the nursery to the sound of him humming a lullaby.

Ten minutes later, Bradley crept out of the nursery with the baby monitor in hand and joined you in grabbing the presents stashed around the house. The Daggers had dropped off their gifts throughout the week, and your family had mailed theirs. The craftsman that you’d helped Bradley purchase when he moved to North Island didn’t have the best hiding spots - it wasn’t exactly something he needed when you’d been his real estate agent - but with Benny so little, it was a problem for the future. “I think we may have overdone it,” you sighed, setting an unwrapped toy on the couch. The floor by the tree was already covered with wrapped presents.

“Nope, just enough,” Bradley chuckled, opening his arms. With a scoff, you stepped into his embrace, smiling as he swayed you. A dark spot decorated his shoulder, and you gently wiped away your daughter’s drool. “Gotta spoil my girls.”

“I really hope you kept to our budget for each other.” When he stayed silent, you pulled away and cocked an eyebrow. “Bradley Bradshaw, you stayed within the budget, right?”

“I stayed within our Christmas budget,” he answered, his hands gliding down your back to cup your ass as his mustache tickled your throat. “Love you, baby.”

“I love you too. Now, help me get all of this stuff under the tree. Did you want to do her stocking?”

There was a whoop, and Bradley turned to see three guys crouched on the hanger floor cheering as they played with a racetrack. Another corner had been designated as the bike assembly space, an array of tools spread on the ground. One of the card tables had been dragged out from the break room, and it was covered with popcorn and an assortment of cookies.

Unsure of where to go, Bradley walked towards a few other officers standing in the corner. “Hey, Rooster,” Captain “Taco” Bell said as he neared. “We were just talking about ordering pizza for everyone. Would you throw in?”

“Yeah. Does anyone know if there’s a system here, or does it just go wherever?”

“Wagner’s in charge,” Payback shrugged, nodding towards the NCO helping assemble a kitchen playset. “You got stuff for Benny?”

“Just a few things. Brought some of the smaller stuff to wrap, too.” The two men quickly went to the Bronco to unload the gifts. Setting them in a pile with a couple of rolls of wrapping paper, they quickly assembled the play sets. A few other guys drifted by, helping to slot the plastic pieces together or offering to help wrap. Boxes piled up on one end of the hanger, and a sign-up sheet for folks who had larger gifts at the house that needed to be assembled was passed around. It looked like at least six families were getting swingsets or trampolines. Bradley idly wondered about setting up a swing in the backyard in the summer. In the meantime, he assembled the small slide that would be perfect for the living room.

The pizza arrived around 10:00PM, and there was a quick break. As they sat around the hangar, the Santa letter exchange happened. Wagner supplied blank papers with a printed Christmas border, and the parents swapped letters for others to write the replies. “This saved my ass one year,” Wagner shared. “My middle daughter was starting to question Santa, and boom - different handwriting. Got her for at least another year.”

Around midnight, the squadron split into three sections - one to stay back and clean up the hanger, and two to deliver gifts and set up the presents. Bradley packed up his gifts and put them into the back of the Bronco. He was joined by three guys to set up a trampoline. Aided by headlamps, they were able to get it done in about an hour with only a few pinched fingers in the process, which was worth it to test it out.

A trampoline was added to the Christmas list when Benny was a bit older.

After touching base with Wagner, they headed to the second house to set up another trampoline before returning to the hangar. The third team left to assemble a swingset while they settled in to watch Die Hard for their last two hours on shift.

Tucked away in his office, Bradley set about wrapping his last present.

“Benny girl, look here!” you cooed, trying to get your daughter to look as you snapped pictures. Sitting in her father’s lap, she slapped the present in front of her and shrieked. Bradley laughed, quickly shifting his hold to wipe the drool from his wrist onto his sweatpants before retrieving his cup of coffee. Even with just two hours of sleep, he wasn’t willing to push back Christmas morning. After taking a sip, he set the mug down and took Benny’s hand, sliding it under the paper seam. Her hand flew up, ripping the paper.

“Good girl!” he chuckled, helping her tear the rest away to reveal stacking cups. It took about an hour to get through the presents, trading off the baby to get pictures.

A small stack of presents surrounded you as Bradley opened his new electric razor. “Thanks, baby,” he said, crawling across the living room floor to kiss you. With one hand on Benny’s stomach to keep her upright in your lap, you cupped his cheek and ran your thumb along his scars.

“You’re welcome, babe. Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas.” Pushing onto his feet, he quickly shoved the wrapping paper into the trash bag and ran a hand through his hair. “That looks like almost everything.”

“Unless Santa left something somewhere in the back of a closet, it looks like we got it all.”

“Hang on,” Bradley said, reaching around the back of the tree and retrieving a small box. “Looks like we missed one.” Holding it up, he glanced at the gift tag. “To Mommy, from Bennett.”

“What?” Grinning, he sat down across from you and offered you the box, holding out his arms for the baby. A quick glance confirmed it was Bradley’s handwriting on the tag. “What’d you get me, Benny?” you asked, smiling as your daughter laughed when her father tickled her. Lifting it to your ear, you shook it gently and heard it rattle. Tearing away the paper, you laughed at the kid’s jewelry box. The ballerina twirled when you opened it to reveal a bunch of plastic necklaces, rings, and bracelets. “Oooh, fancy! I know what I’m wearing today,” you laughed, quickly putting on a pair of clip-on earrings and a necklace.

“There’s a note,” Bradley said, leaning down to press his lips to Benny’s head. He looked a bit nervous.

And there was. Buried under the plastic was a folded-up piece of paper. Your mouth fell open when you read it.

I couldn’t get you jewelry this year, but Daddy could.

With wide eyes, you looked up to see Bradley grinning at you. “Open the drawer.”

Slowly, you pulled the handle to reveal a diamond ring. “Bradley?”

“Will you marry me?”

Later, when Bennett was asleep and the baby monitor was tossed onto the couch, Bradley watched the Christmas tree lights dance across your face as he took you apart slowly, savoring your taste. The ring sparkled on your finger when you pressed a hand to your mouth to muffle your moans as you shook apart under him, thighs bracketing his ears.

Kissing his way up your body, Bradley paused to suck on a tender nipple, groaning when your nails raked his scalp. The tree shook when he continued his ascent, knocking the lower branches as he tried to reach your lips. “Fuck.”

Laughing, you lifted your head to meet his gaze and wiped your thumb along his mustache, feeling your arousal coating the coarse hair. “Merry Christmas, Daddy.”

“Merry Christmas, Mama. Now get out from under the tree so I can unwrap my present in bed and fuck you properly.”

-------------------------------------------------------

Author's Note: This was inspired by my dad and his squadron when we were stationed in Japan. He had to work overnight Christmas Eve and they ended up making a run to everyone's house on base to pick up gifts that needed to be set up. I definitely believed in Santa for another year when I didn't recognize the handwriting on the letter the Christmas morning.

The jewelry box and note are also pulled from real life. Dad went remote for a year (he was over in Korea and we were stateside) to ensure that we got orders to Florida, and came back just in time for Christmas. My sisters and I got mom the fake jewelry (we were all in high school/college) while Dad got Mom a new necklace.

Thank you for reading my (late) self-indulgent Christmas fic! I hope you enjoyed it, and my first foray into writing Rooster. And a major thank you to @mamachasesmayhem for encouraging me to write this, even if she's just dipping her toes into Bradley and would have preferred it to be Jake 😂

#bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster bradshaw #top gun #top gun fanfiction #top gun x female reader #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #rooster fanfiction

212 notes · View notes

relaxxattack · 9 months

Text

ok yeah lots of memes about how the shitty new UI is literally a direct carbon copy of twitter and we hate it because of that, yea yea

here’s some actual/extra reasons why the UI itself is shitty beyond the fact that it’s stolen from twitter (in just my personal opinion)

it’s claustrophobic as hell. the old UI felt breathable, felt like you could scroll and actually look at your posts, and now there’s enough shit going on on one page that it actually gives me a headache. (i’ve heard other people say this as well, so maybe it’s not just me that’s overstimulated by all the fucking noise on the dash?)

the ‘dash sorting’ (for you / your tags / what you missed) is way too high up the page now and appears crowded against the top where things like the bookmarks bar are on most browsers. not that anything in this new UI isn’t crowded.

i’ve seen it mentioned plenty already, but there’s quite a lot of unnecessary duplication-- as in, the same buttons that exist in the new left navigation panel show up on the right in blog view, which is just completely annoying and unneeded clutter.

the fact that post interaction options are all on the right side of the posts, but dashboard navigation is now all pushed to the far left of display, is extremely annoying. i’m right-handed, so it’s extra annoying for me to have to constantly go all the way over there. maybe that’s easier for left-handed people, but if the case was supporting diversity, why not just put an option in dashboard preferences to switch the side of ALL the controls? because the post interactions are still on the right.

while we’re on the subject-- tumblr’s original design was actually MUCH more intuitive and easy to navigate. the reason for this is that everything you needed to click was in one small area. you scroll up and down the dash, move slightly up to navigate (home/asks/notifications) and slightly down to the side to interact with a post (reblog/reply). extremely simple, easy to use, even ‘lazy + addicting’, which is what all social media studio exes are supposed to want right now. changing the ui to actually be more work and more frustrating to navigate seems completely opposed to what their obvious business strategy should be.

tumblr’s original design was also much more breathable, with the small icons in the corner looking organized and not taking up much space, and lots of room for the posts themselves to be the main attraction.

there’s the fact that copying someone else’s brand entirely actually just puts you in a bigger, wider pool with much more competition, and makes you much more likely to immediately fall short of that and go bankrupt.

tumblr's original purpose was to be geared toward blogs, and these updates, along with the writing on the wall about blog themes being completely phased out soon, is completely against the original purpose. although sometimes website purposes change for the better, so take that as you will.

and finally the obvious point that you can tell from all the memes: this change is almost universally hated by the core tumblr userbase-- aka the site’s loyal consumers for years and years. driving out their main demographic seems like a very obvious, very quick way to lose a lot of fucking money. they also did this “carbon copy of twitter” update literally just a week after sitewide protest about the idea of this site being anything like twitter, so it feels like a massive Fuck You to literally all of the users. tumblr is rapidly approaching their trust thermocline, and show no sign of slowing down.

these are just my opinions about the ui, and i’m only one person. so feel free to add on other design flaws you think people should be aware of or able to mention! i will probably also be submitting this post as feedback to staff, and will be taking their surveys when i can as well.

#tumblr

679 notes · View notes

discworld-heritage-posts · 3 months

Note

What do you think you add? Do you think you make a poignant post better when after scrolling down through it we see someone saying it's "official"?

I'm choosing to interpret this ask as a genuine question (albeit one that's been worded a bit rudely) instead of a hate anon, because I wouldn't want to tarnish people's dashboards with hate anons.

Now, to answer your genuine question... The "Discworld Heritage Post" tagline I add to the end of posts has as much validity as I have authority to bestow it: none. Do I think my tagline makes posts better? Of course not! And I certainly don't think I make them official, (and neither my url or my pinned post claim that I do so).

I don't know what reasons other people had to start their own Heritage Posts blogs for other fandoms, but I will gladly tell you mine: I got into Discworld. I discovered the Discworld fandom in Tumblr. And, one day, while scrolling down some Discworld related tags, the idea just popped into my head. After checking that there wasn't a Discworld Heritage Posts blog already, I decided to make one.

I personally follow a few Heritage Posts blogs, and my reason to do so is probably the same as to why many people follow this blog: I wanted to see that kind of content. Tracking tags and being up to date on the most popular posts of a fandom is doable, but doing so for the dozens upon dozens of media I'm into is impossible, so I like to follow some Heritage Posts blogs to get some of those posts directly into my dashboard (it's also worth mentioning that sometimes, some iconic posts are made when people comment stuff on them, and those don't appear in the search tags, so following blogs that post about a certain fandom is the best way to come across some of those collaborative posts, because otherwise you'd rarely get to see them). So yes, I created a blog that, had it already existed, I would have liked to follow. Also, while other blogs with this gimmick usually limit themselves to reblogging, let's call them the "greatest hits", I've said since the beginning that I didn't care about how many notes something had. Be it cool art or a funny or insightful post, if I like it, I send it to my drafts.

However, none of those reasons are the main reason why I made this blog. The main reason is that I did it for myself. After exhausting all the content that showed up in the Popular Posts tab, I couldn't help but think of all the gold and treasure that wasn't there, buried and hidden due to the way Tumblr's search engine works. If you're familiar with the Discworld concept of "lies-to-children", that's what the "top posts of all time" is in Tumblr. A 20k post from 2016 will not be there, but a six month old post with 400 notes will show up. Surely there had been amazing Discworld posts and art posted in 2015 and 2013, but I wasn't going to find most of them unless I expressly went looking for them. And this blog was the perfect excuse to do so. As of replying to this ask, there's nearly 600 posts sitting in my drafts, and if I didn't have this blog I would have never discovered 90% of them. And those are the ones I've seen. I still have dozens of places I haven't searched.

I know that if I reblog a month old post with over 2k notes, a lot of people in the fandom will have already seen it. However, a 2k notes post from 2014, or a drawing with 40 notes from 2012 is something that is less likely to have hit people's dashes recently, or at all. When you come across the "Discworld Heritage Post" tagline in a post, please don't picture me as an uppity monarch performing the Tumblr equivalent of a knighting ceremony, or a stuffy museum curator deigning a piece worthy of being included in an exhibition. Picture me as a kid enthusiastically jumping and flailing my arms around while yelling "holy shit guys check out what I just found!!", because that's how I feel running this blog.

Ultimately, whether one of my posts does better or worse is indifferent to me, because they aren't my posts, or memes, or drawings. I'm just the intermediary. That being said, of course it's not indifferent to me, because more engagement means that was a post many people hadn't seen before, or had forgotten about, and one of my goals was to run a blog that would allow people to find those hidden or long forgotten gems.

When all is said and done, Heritage Post blogs are just another one of Tumblr's gimmicks. If we're not your cup of tea, you're free to ignore or block us. If you want to reblog something and don't want the tagline, you can reblog it directly from OP (or from another reblog if OP has deactivated their account).

#long post #THAT BEING SAID #I've seen people being very exited about something they made showing up in this blog and calling it an honor and stuff like that #and to those people I say: I see you and your lovely tags and my heart warms when I read them #i might not have any real authority besides a self imposed gimmick in a nearly defunct social media platform #but if seeing your stuff here makes you happy and proud those feelings are valid and I want you to treasure them #a lot of things only have the meaning we ascribe to them and my tagline might not hold any official meaning #but it does mean something VERY IMPORTANT:#that I saw your post and I loved it and I reblogged it to make sure other people could also find it and love it #I need to come up with a tag for asks don't I? ok how about #asked and answered #dhp's asks #discworld

89 notes · View notes

mysteriesmuse · 1 year

Text

FIRE IN THE HOLE🔥💥☕️

Your lovely boyfriend turned current fiancé, Katsuki Bakugou knows that when he says not a word to anyone and you pretend to zip your lips that’s there’s a pretty substantial chance that a certain list of people are probably gonna hear about it . . . your siblings, your childhood best friend, your college best friend, sometimes your dentist if they can put together the mumbled response to their questions. Katsuki seriously wonders why they all do that. Especially yours because you are a chatter box. But, at the top of that list is your mom . . .

Katsuki is sitting inside peering over the pesky reading glasses he got a few weeks ago, he hates to admit he needs them, as you slip out the back door to take your weekly phone call from your mom. He brings chin to chest before puffing out a breath of laughter. Across from him is your new organic mug. A lopsided thing steaming with a new cup of peppermint tea . . .

Katsuki hums, he’ll heat it back up for you when you return. You absentmindedly stroll on the tattered lawn in your flip-flops. Phone pressed to your cheek as you grin and tease patches of dandelions with your toes . . .

Katsuki’s sure you’re on the wind-up with the causal “how are you” catch before regaling your mother with this most recent and embarrassing fiasco.

————

In the backyard you poke at a nearly blossoming yellow lion bud.

“Oh- yeah, yeah I’ll be sure to mention it to Katsuki. Have dad text him about the furniture thing. He’s inside looking at tiles for the bathroom”

you shake your head, slipping your toes back around the sandal strap and carrying on. Your mother clearly has you on speaker phone. You can hear the food sizzling in the pan and your father scrubbing at the kitchen sink. a coy smile lights itself on your face: the perfect segway.

“oh mom, speaking of the dishes that I can hear dad scrubbing in the back you’ll never believe what Katsuki and I did”

“Sweetie? You know I know you’re engaged to a pro-hero?” your mom chuckles, “that could be anything in my wildest imagination”

Humming you glance back over at you darling fiancé. Diligently scrolling through a catalog of kitchen and bath tiles, “actually this is pretty mundane compared to other things.” You can hear the hiss of air and the playful groan that follows. The sound of your mother rolling her eyes . . .

“well about 2-3 weeks ago I get Katsuki to join me at this pottery class that I’ve been looking into. We’re there and he’s, tsk, typical grumbling about it to me under his breath. The place is so homely and smells like the earth and a dash of paint chemicals but otherwise nice. A few soccer moms trying to be earthy and unwind, but nothing along the lines of crazed fans or anything like that.

once we’re told the rules and given the supplies we’re going. The both of us - right? Totally surprising. But Katsuki’s actually into it. They tell us we’re making mugs because that’s a good beginner pot, but his hands are so big so his is more like a soup bowl. I KNOW, that’s the kinda of coffee mug you’d need! Anyway, it’s still huge by the end, but it looks good. Not at all lopsided or anything.

. . . oh god no mine was a mess! The instructor lady said the walls were all uneven and whatnot, but it coulda’ been a lovely pencil holder. Yeah, right. So anyways, we leave feeling pretty good. Katsuki has begrudging enjoyed himself and they’re supposed to call the both of us when they finish up in the kiln.

a few days past and we’re out at home. yeah the apartment - sitting on the couch and trying some new recipe for guac our friend Sero recommended. And we get the call. Except it’s not a “hey your mugs are ready to pick up thanks for taking our class. We hope to see you again” it’s “oh hey our condolences here’s a free voucher to take another class if you so desire” and you know why? It’s because our group exploded in the kiln. Which - yeah - is natural if there’s a huge air bubble.

Right, so I’m sitting on the couch with the voicemail they left us on the answering machine. Katsuki’s throwing a bunch of stuff together in a bowl in the kitchen still.

but the place doesn’t say that the pots in the kiln exploded it says that the kiln exploded. Right away. Like boom! anyway that grabs Katsuki’s attention and he utters the loudest “shit.” I may have ever heard him say in his sacred space. And he rushes into the bedroom to grab his wallet and checkbook . . . and I don’t know that’s what he’s grabbing. Im just like babe where are you going?

and he comes back out panting and says “dial them back” and I’m like why?? And Katsuki’s just sweatdrops and deadpans like babygirl I just broke their kiln.

Then it hits me . . . the nitroglycerin from his quirk sweat is all over that clay and once that thing got fired up . . . Fire. In. The. Hole. And so Katsuki paid to replace the damage cause neither of us were actually thinking about that part when we were there. So he combusted everyone’s things, but on the bright side I went back using my voucher and made a cute mug.

Oh, and Katsuki is gonna let me use his too. Honestly, probably for the best”

———

and it’s later that evening when Katsuki’s massaging your knee that’s draped over his lap that he hears your impression of you mothers response to this story which was, understandably, “oh pumpkin, that’s hysterical! You’ve got to call your sister and tell her!”

#bakugou headcanons #katsuki bakugo imagine #katsuki bakugou #bakugou fluff #pro hero katsuki #fanfic #bakugou x reader #bakugou drabble #i thought this was so cute and sooo funny #immediately had to write this idea up bc what a natural oversight #like can you imagine #bruh would be so upset he didn’t consider his quirk in the kiln #boom boom boy #bakugou katuski x reader

297 notes · View notes

nightgoodomens · 2 months

Text

A lot of asks under the cut:

I think we figured out that this fandom can’t take criticism of anything, they had a meltdown when people called out a fictional character for being an ass, so I can imagine with them being unable to comprehend that some people do not like their queen.

I don’t understand why the concept of some people not liking other people is so horrifying and impossible to understand.

They’re all public figures, people base their opinions on what they see, some people will be indifferent, some won’t like them, some will like them, some will love them, some will hate them.

Looking for all the excuses right out of the ass why someone would hate them and it’s definitely not the idol’s fault… it is just… it ain’t that deep.

It’s fucking embarrassing honestly.

You will need to be a bit more specific regarding which issues 😅

I don’t know what she was thinking or what MS was thinking and I’m pretty happy that their situation isn’t my problem and I don’t need to go too much into it 😂 What they’re showing the public is painful to watch. We will never know what exactly was going on there but what we see/know isn’t pretty.

She shouldn’t be in the limelight because she hasn’t accomplished anything to deserve it. She isn’t in one anyway, the only people who know about her are people interested in Michael enough to care who he has kids with and find out her name AND then actually care to follow her.

I love that you said “wives” because their fans keep on making AL a wife but MS had her pop two kids out but didn’t pop the question himself.

Throw in a few “ewww” “disgusting” “depraved” “sickos” “sexist” and you’re nearly there 😂

Oh yeah - if this was about a man and a woman and they’d do 5% of what MS/DT do then you’d have articles written about it and everyone talking about it. It’s only automatically a joke because they’re two dudes.

Imagine if a man said “she’s easy to fall in love with” “I love her” “she’s my lover” stared at her lovingly constantly, called her “his partner”, and his other partner would call them “boyfriend/girlfriend”, media would be all over it and nobody would be screaming “disgusting” or a joke.

The biggest irony is that this fandom is supposed to be open minded 😂

She got pregnant at a young age by a stranger and ever since has been living in a bubble where she’s worshipped for existing by her man’s fandom who’s ensuring her she doesn’t need to do anything to be called a queen. The only jobs she scored were sorted out by him. I’m not surprised she’s still a muppet who’s learned nothing and doesn’t want to leave the fantasy bubble tbf.

She’s been obsessively copying GT to the point where I think GT has been smoothly taking the piss out of her partly for it. From “soooo linked” to “throw her a hashtag and see if it sticks” to “oh you have Getty image, here’s a cute selfie my hubby took with your man when he was happy”. Song choices have been funny too.

This fandom went downhill really quick. I scroll my dash maybe once a day and hope to see a few nice arts, scrolling through words. Art gives me the ick sometimes too unfortunately. Every time I read something I don’t even know wtf people are talking about anymore. It has nothing to do with the show.

When S3 comes out I will watch it and never check what anybody else thought about it. People ruined S2 for me and I’m not letting them do the same with S3.

Thank you for still reading this blog :)

Bruh I wish. I fucking wish. But suddenly it won’t apply when he goes all nepo on this show anyway. It’s gonna be spot the relative season.

You’d probably need to ask him this question 😅

They had one night stand, she got knocked up, he sold a lot of what he had and moved to Wales, she wanted to be big shit but the only jobs she scored were sorted out by him, she got pregnant again, she likes to take digs about him and his looks, he started looking miserable as hell with her, he paid her for a photoshoot and had GT do her promo, yet again it flopped, so now she’s suddenly feeding everyone how she totally luvs him (still slips a dig in because she can’t help herself) because heart grows fonder when shit doesn’t work out.

I don’t know why he’s with her. Maybe he’s actually deeply in love with her but decided to show the whole world that he is miserable with her for shits and giggles. Maybe they play up zero chemistry for cameras for some reason. Maybe he loves her so much he never speaks about her but perks up the second “DT” is mentioned and goes off about how much he loves him, how easy he’s to fall in love with, how good he looked in a kilt… Yeah that makes zero fucking sense, doesn’t it 😂

Responsibility I guess.

#NightGoodOmens talks PR #NightGoodOmens talks Michael and David

39 notes · View notes

gffa · 4 months

Note

Do you know if there is a good way to follow dick/babs ship tags (besides blocking #anti dickbabs) without getting the really nasty dick/babs (and just babs in general) hate? Recently tumblr has been suggesting some really unpleasant posts, which, fine, I can just scroll past, but I was wondering if you had any suggestions. I really don't want to block dick/kory because even though it's not my ship, some of their stuff is really cute and if it's quality art/stories/posts I like to see it too.

Anyways, I love your posts!

I know exactly what you're talking about, anon. :/ Pretty much the only thing I've found is to just start blocking people who put that crap in the tags and it helps a lot! You'll still see the cute Dick/Kory stuff from the cool fans (I'm lucky that I have a handful of very sweet fans I follow on my dash), but you won't see so much of those posts that tear down Dick/Babs just to prop Dick/Kory up. I know it can sometimes feel kind of defeatist to start blocking people or tags, just because a few bad actors ruin the fun for you, but sometimes you gotta ask yourself if it's really worth the aggravation of seeing the nasty comments just to see the occasional cute thing? It doesn't have to be forever, you can block a person or a tag just when you're feeling particularly unwilling to deal with people who can't stay in their lane or who have to tear down something else to build up their thing. Take care of yourself first, find what makes you happy first, even if you're a big person who can pull up their big person undies and just scroll past it, sometimes you want a gentler experience and that's okay. Just block "anti dickbabs" and block anyone who doesn't tag their posts with that and it's okay if you don't see everything for awhile as you settle down. Those cute stories/art/posts will still be there when you're feeling up to navigating the rougher waters! (I will say I've been struggling with this as well, because I'm a big girl who knows where her scroll button is, people have to be allowed their space to like/dislike things and express that as they please, etc., but sometimes it's hard to not feel resentful that it's so constantly being put into the tags that should be a pleasant experience for our ship, it's so hard not to let that behavior bleed over into being frustrated at other ships, when I know it's just a few bad actors, but also like. It's just so completely antithetical to what I'm looking for--I just am not going to be swayed by someone telling me, as I've seen, that I'm wrong for shipping Dick/Babs, but I would be potentially swayed by someone telling me what they liked about their ship. You know, if my nerves weren't currently feeling scraped raw.) (I hope it's clear that this is not aimed at all other shippers of Dick/Kory or any other ship, not even just those that express frustration about DickBabs, but a very specific sub-set of those who feel determined to barge into other lanes about it for other fans.) And, if you're like me, every time tumblr recommends something nasty to you, take that energy and make a cute Dick/Babs post and put it in the tag for me and others to see! You'll feel so much better for it!

#lumi.txt #dc #batfam #dickbabs

28 notes · View notes

spiced-wine-fic · 17 days

Text

Twenty Questions for Fic Writers

Thank you so much dear @nocompromise-noregrets 🤗

1. How many works do you have on Ao3? 45

2. What’s your total Ao3 word count?

2,842,840

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Tolkien. The Silmarillion.

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

Fragments of Fate and Fire (This one, I don’t tend to count, as it’s mostly art. It’s much easier to look at an image than devote time to reading).

Dark Prince,

Magnificat of the Damned Book III: Fire.

A Far, Fierce Sky

Magnificat of the Damned Book II: Resurrection.

5. Do you respond to comments?

Of course. 😊 (I am grateful for them).

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Magnificat of the Damned Book IV: Anvil.

And I got some incredible comments on the last chapter that I still cherish. (It was not the end, but it was the end of that series).

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

I don’t believe in endings. Stories always continue and mine are mostly part of an ongoing series. But I have written a couple of one-shots and Requital did have a much more positive ending.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Never have, no. Or if I have it must have been mild and I’ve forgotten. But then I moderate my fics on AO3 and people usually can't be arsed to type a raging comment that won’t get published. Also I’m just not read that much. I write a lot of OC’s and people tend to scroll past, I’m sure. (I never had negative comments on LOTRFF.com or Faerie, either, and one couldn’t moderate, but again, I think it was because that kind of person just didn’t bother with them and the atmosphere was more polite on those archives).

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Sometimes. M/M. These days, it’s when it comes up, which is not so often. I find (after a particularly horrible fandom experience) that it’s like salt: you don’t need to pour it over everything. Anyhow, I’m interested in stories which have everything in them, not just sex.

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

No.

11. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

I wrote Dark Prince and Dark Lands with Annwyn (back in 06/07) who I’m still in contact with but is no longer in fandom. She was lovely to write with.

13. What’s your all time favorite ship?

Fëanor/Fingolfin.

14. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

I want to finish A Far, Fierce Sky. I was writing that in tandem with one of the Magnificat stories and as A Light in the East and A Far, Fierce Sky, it’s sequel, were AU’s to my main arc, I had to drop one of them when I became self-employed.

I no longer have the time to write very much so I hope to survive long enough to retire and be able to do much more 🥺

15. What are your writing strengths?

Probably perseverance. I can hack through blocks and I completely ignore fandom fads so I can concentrate on my writing without dashing after the next hot take. If I get an idea I’ll follow it through.

16. What are your writing weaknesses?

Take your pick! 🤪

17. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

If used sparingly it can be effective.

18. First fandom you wrote for?

Tolkien. I’m monofandom.

19. Favourite fic you’ve written?

I think of fics in terms of how I felt when I was writing them, and if I was in the ‘zone’ so it is a tie between Dark Prince and Summerland. Tagging @cycas @ettelene @nuredhel @naryaflame @pinksiamese @crowandmoonwriting @jane-ways @antares0606 @independence1776 @lucifers-cuvette @minquelie @grundyscribbling @thenookienostradamus @swanfloatieknight @geneeste @auntieaugury @blue-istari-stars-of-the-south @feedthefandomfest and really anyone who sees this and would like to do it.

#Fic #writing #questions #answers

15 notes · View notes

inchidentally · 4 months

Note

I am new to the Landoscar fandom but I adore their chemistry and the fics. I saw your post about how you’re a part of the fandom that actively protects the girls in their rl which is awesome because I didn’t even know what the Carlando fans had done. I’m so happy to hear this fandom seems a bit more mature than that. How can I join? I’d like to make like minded friends 😊

yes!! we love and support Lily here and the line between shipping landoscar as a couple vs as their real life relationship is extremely clear. a similar ship is George and Alex where both Lily and Carmen are beloved by the people who ship galex. it's so easy to not hate women, adore the two guys' real life friendship, and then ship them romantically for fun in non-public spaces. so so easy.

the larrying of car|ando breaks my heart a little bc that was my first F1 rpf ship and I also love their real life friendship - genuinely the Singapore race meant way more to me emotionally for Carlos having always been big protective brother to Lando than needing to put on ship goggles. no one rly knows why car|ando is the one that people have decided is "legit" esp when Daniel and Lando straight up did the gay baiting stuff and Max V is the only driver that Lando actively has an off-season engagement with (as well as a longer driver relationship than Carlos or Daniel). but there's no reasoning w people who use vile rampant misogyny against real life girlfriends as if that will someone make two guy friends suddenly get married or whatever.

but I will say that a lot of us who still ship car|ando aren't in the larry crowd and can distinguish reality from fiction so don't be too spooked off them <3

honestly as a relatively new blog myself I can tell you that everyone in landoscar fandom is extremely kind and welcoming! my walls of text have got to get tedious at times but if anyone's annoyed then they don't say and just scroll on by!

but a heads up that tumblr is a very tricky place for keeping up with people and content by the tags and dash alone so I would make sure to tag your posts very well and also just start sending in some asks to blogs! personally I try to systematically check mutuals blogs bc tumblr sometimes shoves a person's posts wayyyy down.

and this is a personal preference and I'm not sure if you're a fic writer but it's such a huge help with fic posts if there's a banner or even just a pic bc for some reason those show up on my dash more than text post only fic.

#inchreplies #landoscar

24 notes · View notes

wraenata · 8 months

Note

You seem to put a lot of energy into being considerate of others. I'm thankful for it but like, how? I hope you're taking care of yourself.

Hi anon! Thank you very much, I really appreciate this.

I really like being considerate of others, in fact it makes me happy. When I see someone having a down day, I just want them to know that someone saw, and wants things to get better for them. Because that's how I really feel. I love all of you in my phone and I want you to be ok. And I like leaving nice tags for people on their art, because I know how much joy that can bring.

But, ugh, yeah. I'm not going to lie, it takes a lot of energy.

I think I'll put the rest under the cut...

Ever since the months started getting warmer this year I've been having more trouble keeping up with my dash (I'm someone who needs to scroll through the whole thing). Before the wedding I was in and covid about a month ago, I was able to just barely keep up with my dash and also scrolling the rise tag. Because I didn't want to miss anything! I also was able to scroll through ao3 to see what new fics were posted and bookmark ones I wanted to read! I...haven't been able to do that anymore...and I hate it.

I'm so far behind on reading fanfics that I absolutely enjoy because I just don't have the energy for reading anything longer than 1k at a time right now. And I can't start any new ones until I catch up on the old ones. There are so many writing posts I came across on my dash that are stuck in draft jail until I have time and energy to read them. And quite a few art posts that I came across when I just didn't have time.

I try hard to keep up with my dash at work but I only have so much (extremely generous) time to do that. I'm often speed running tags when I don't have a lot of time or energy. And sometimes I can't express just how much I love your art because of that low time or energy. And I hate putting posts in drafts cause it piles up and gives me anxiety. And when I come home its just, dash, all night.

I am eternally grateful for @/teainthesnow, she keeps all the tmnt tagged posts coming onto my dash so I can still see them (if you see this tea I am so appreciative of all the work you do for the fandom, you are an amazing person and I love you/platonic).

I've already unfollowed a few blogs, and I agonized over it, for like weeks, before doing it. But it hasn't been enough. If you noticed I unfollowed you in the past 2 months, please know that it was nothing personal and I hated that I had to do it. I miss seeing your posts and how your day is going. We are mutuals in my heart forever.

In fact I wish I could follow so many more blogs but I have had to stop myself for a while now. And it really fucking sucks. I've tried filtering a bunch of tags to make it easier too but it's not enough.

The fact of the matter is, I need to unfollow more blogs. And I hate to do it. I know I need to do it. I've known for a while now. I don't have the energy to keep up with it anymore, not after getting covid. I'm just so tired. All the time.

If you see that I unfollow you at some point, again, I love you and we are mutuals in my heart forever. All of my followers are my mutuals. My askbox and messages are always open. You can always tag me in posts (and oh my I'm just remembering all the of tag games I haven't had time to do) I just can't keep up with this anymore. I want to get back to reading fanfic and making the mountains of fanart I want to do for people.

I just, I love you all. But I'm so so tired. I really hope if anything comes out of this long ramble, its that I love you all. The rise fandom has given me so much and I want to return that love.

I'm sorry for the late response anon, and I'm sorry for turning your lovely ask into a bit of a vent. I've tried to put this off for as long as I could, but I just can't do it anymore.

I love you all though <3

#wren askbox #wren screams at 4 am #vent post #sorta #thank you anon for your care I really appreciated it <3

42 notes · View notes

fanby-fckry · 2 months

Text

Ignore what I said about queuing this. I wrote the rest of this post when I was in a better headspace; now I’m petty and pissed off, so I dug into my queue and grabbed it.

Do you ever get hate from a stranger on a post and wonder… How did you even find this post??

Still getting used to the idea that fandom antis will apparently purposefully browse the tags of the thing they hate because it seems so genuinely pointless to me, but ok. I’m starting to understand that some people just choose to be angry, I guess.

But what blows my fucking mind is that I got hate on a vent post???

I don’t tag my vent posts with anything but my tags and content warnings. And I tag them #[topic] cw so it’s not like people are finding them in the main tags for that thing.

Reblogs are turned off, so it didn’t get thrown onto their dash by someone they follow that follows me and reblogged it in good faith.

So this person had to:

Choose a thing to be intentionally hateful about.

Choose to search not just for that thing, but instead to search #thing cw.

Find a post made 12 hours ago with 5 notes on it.

Decide, Yup, time to be an asshole!

I try to assume ignorance before malice. I try to assume someone’s having a bad day before I assume they went out of their way to be an asshole.

But I genuinely do not understand how you could accidentally stumble upon an unrebloggable vent post only tagged with cw tags.

How?? Why??? Wtf?? Why do you even care? Do you gain anything from this? Does this make you happy?

Or are you scrolling, seething about how much you hate, hate, hate a certain group of people? Are you clenching your jaw? Is your blood pressure rising? Do you need to take a break and do some breathing exercises?

Fucking go touch grass.

I’m writing this post for the same reason I made my other vent post: because it helps me process. Sometimes, I just need to scream into the void without bugging my partners or taking up time in my therapy sessions. And sometimes, my mutuals comfort and/or commiserate, which is nice.

But I genuinely cannot think of a world in which hate-scrolling an obscure tag would in any way positively impact my life or anyone else’s.

The last time I hate-scrolled, it was through a repost account in an attempt to go find all the original artists that the blog had stollen art from. I found one, and a few other artists had already been tagged, but eventually, I got so angry I couldn’t focus anymore.

So I stopped. I blocked the account. I moved on.

And the only reason I didn’t do that from the start was because it was genuinely helping someone for me to hate-scroll. It helped the artist I contacted. If I had been the first to get to a few other works I recognized, it would’ve helped those artists too.

I also didn’t seek out this blog; one of their stollen posts showed up on my dash and I went, Wow, that’s stollen art! Time to go fuck shit up!

Who does it benefit when you seek out other people’s posts when you know the content is upsetting to you, just to hate on them? What does that accomplish besides marginally increasing the suffering in this already shitty world?

Queueing this rather than posting it so that it won’t be obvious which vent post I’m talking about, but holy fuck this makes me feel things.

#fanby’s ramblings #not fandom #vent cw

7 notes · View notes

storiesiwrite · 1 year

Text

Muse ☾ Lee Seokmin

Genre: fluff, second chance trope, exes to lovers, mutual pining

Word count: 4470

Summary: It’s been two years since you and Seokmin broke up, but you can’t seem to move on. It turns out he feels the same way.

☁︎ ☁︎ ☁︎ ☁︎ ☁︎

It’s a quarter past three in the morning, and sleep evades Seokmin.

It’s both baffling and frustrating; he genuinely thought he would collapse on the bed after retreating to his hotel room. Yet he’s been tossing and turning all throughout the night, cheers from the crowd still echoing in his head long past the show. His hands brush the sheets beneath him, as soft as silk yet devoid of familiarity. Devoid of that feeling of home.

That’s what this job entails, he’s tried to tell himself. Arrive in a city, perform the concert’s setlist, then leave. Moving from one temporary stop to another, not truly belonging to one place. He hasn’t even stepped foot inside his actual home in months, his schedule so packed he barely has time to settle down.

Days pass by so quickly they coalesce into a blur. And nights feel the longest, the most brutal, because it’s during the darkest hours when loneliness tugs at him, and memories slither in through the cracks of his being.

Visions of a familiar face. Of someone with warm eyes and the most intoxicating laugh.

He grabs his phone and unlocks it, its light illuminating the darkened room. He hates the fact that this is what has become of his nightly routine.

Opening his gallery, he scrolls up to find the last image of you and him, dated back to two years ago. Autumn, at a carnival. He remembers that evening so clearly. He remembers how packed it was, how loud, how he kept on bumping against people wherever he went. The decorations and lights that festooned the venue, the stalls lined with plush toys you could win in games.

All that beautiful sight, but what caught his attention was you.

Clad in a black trench coat and a cream turtleneck, a stick of swirly cotton candy in one hand, you looked dashing. And Seokmin couldn’t tear his eyes off of you.

“What? Is something on my face?” You’d asked him then, your fingers searching for stains of the pink confectionery.

Heat creeps up his neck, embarrassed at having been caught outright staring. It didn’t matter that he’d been dating you for a year; sometimes he’d still get shy whenever you were around. “You’re just... you’re really beautiful.”

Now it was your turn to get flustered, your cheeks running red. It was the cutest thing Seokmin had ever seen. Your eyes struggled to meet his, though he could never understand why. There was nothing you had to hide.

“You make me blush when you say things like that, you know,” you finally admitted.

“But I love it when you do.” He laced your fingers with his. “Especially when I’m the reason why.”

He couldn’t forget the small smile that lit your face afterwards, reserved only for him. It was seared onto the deepest corners of his mind.

He couldn’t forget how lucky he’d been, how happy he’d felt those few months with you. They were the best moments of his life, and he realizes, albeit far too late, that even though he now gets to live his dream and tour across the world, something is still missing, severed from him. A gap, one neither sold-out stadiums not record-breaking albums can ever cover.

Regrets. They fill him now, but they can’t change the past.

Seokmin continues looking at old pictures and videos, until a heaviness clings to his eyes. Until he is a mess of bittersweet memories and untangled feelings. Tossing the phone to the side, he buries himself under the covers as though they would smother them all.

What a terrible thing, he ponders. His last thought, before sleep drags him under. What a terrible thing, to still miss someone who isn’t longer mine.

☁︎ ☁︎ ☁︎ ☁︎ ☁︎

Whatever it was that drove you to think this would be a good idea, you’re starting to regret it.

The streets are dark as you make your way towards the stadium, the cold clinging to your skin despite the thick duffle coat wrapped around your body. You were worried you wouldn’t be able to find the venue, but the moment you turn a nearby corner, you see a throng of people already awaiting outside the stadium doors.

Loud, excited chatters fill the air as you push your way through the crowd, the ticket a crumpled piece of paper in your fingers. It’s difficult to stay calm in a space as suffocating as this, with a lot of fans fighting to claim the best spots at the very front of the stage, though you know it’s not the sole reason you’re feeling anxious tonight.

What were you thinking, agreeing to go to Seokmin’s concert?

“Oh, come on,” Chan had said through the phone, playfulness lacing his words. He’d called you earlier this morning, explaining how he’d bought a ticket months ago but wouldn’t be able to make it. “You’re free tonight, aren’t you? You don’t have to pay; I’ll give it to you for free.”

“But... I just can’t. It’s Seokmin we’re talking about here, and I just...” you trailed off, but you didn’t have to explain further. You weren’t ready. And it hit you then, the realization weighing down on you, that even though you’d ended things with him two years ago, the wound from the breakup is still startlingly fresh.

That it would take a hell lot longer to move past him.

“I thought... I thought you parted with him on friendly terms?” Chan continued, his confidence shrinking.

The split was amicable; you and Seokmin simply realized you both had different goals that would be taking you in different directions. Becoming a performing artist means Seokmin would have to travel to places, whereas as a writer, you prefer to stick to one.

The relationship ended amicably, but it’s not as if you remain on speaking terms, either.

You’ve thought about reaching out to him more often than you’d like to admit. Sometimes you’d find yourself searching him up on social media to see what he’s been up to. The photos, videos, and little snippets that he uploads.

You can’t help thinking how you used to be an integral part of his life. And now you’re completely out of the picture—just a stranger, typing messages to him but always leaving them unsent.

A crackle through the line. When you said nothing, Chan took a breath.

“I’m sorry,” he said in all earnestness and remorse, his voice reduced to almost a whisper. “I’m... I’m starting to realize that this is insensitive of me. To ask you, of all people. I just thought...” You could hear Chan fumbling for words. “I’ve asked everyone else. Mingyu, Joshua, Jun. None of them can go. And then I thought of you and I just... I’m really sorry.”

The idea of rejecting the offer flashed through your mind like a constant warning sign. You knew deep down that you’re terrified. You’re terrified to see him, to confront the truth. That perhaps, Seokmin has been better off without you, whereas you still wander down that narrow path of ‘what if’s and wonder what could have been.

And yet, stronger than that fear is an undeniable part of you that longs to see him. A part of you that wishes him well and still considers him a dear friend, despite how everything unfolded. All those promises you made back then, of being there for him every step of the way, of coming to his shows—they’re what still remain. And you realize the least you can do is to honor them.

And so you finally said, “Okay, Chan. I’ll go.”

“You will? You sure about that?” The hesitation was clear in his voice.

“I’m sure.”

But now, standing in the midst of loud strangers in a wide expanse of a darkened concert stadium, you’re not so certain anymore.

So wrapped up in your thoughts, you’re not sure how much time has passed. You watch as the stage grows brighter and the crowd explodes with a deafening scream. A tall figure enters the stage, and your heart races at the sight.

Seokmin.

With a guitar slung to one side, he walks to the center and stops in front of a mic that has already long stood there. His eyes are like crescents as he beams at the audience before him, waving his hand.

“Hello everyone, thank you for coming! Wow, what a cool crowd.” His voice is teeming with delight. You haven’t realized how much you’ve missed hearing it.

So many girls around you begin shouting his name, banners lifted above their heads. You can’t help the pang of jealousy that assails you.

“Tonight, I’ll be singing songs from my new album, as well as old tracks you may not have heard before. I hope you enjoy!”

The crowd screams in excitement, yet you can still hear the thumping of your own heart, stubborn and relentless. Strong emotions you’ve been trying to bury come barreling toward you. It’s too much all at once, difficult to drown out.

This is a bad idea, your mind keeps telling you. A terrible idea, but for some inexplicable reason, your feet stay rooted to the floor, your eyes trained on nobody else but him.

Dark hair slicked back, clad in a black shirt underneath that brown suede jacket. A touch of make-up on his eyes which shine under the lights. Seokmin looks so devastatingly beautiful. Happier than ever.

“The first song...” he pauses. A slight change in his tone, one anyone else might have missed, but you’re not just anyone else.

He smoothens out his features so quickly that you think you imagined the shift altogether. “This is a song I wrote years ago, one I’ve never sung in a show before. It’s definitely one I hold close to my heart.” A tight-lipped smile as he looks down and adjusts the guitar. “A love letter to someone who knew how I felt.”

The cheers turn to silence as the soft strumming of his guitar begins. A familiar tune, one you’ve heard many times before, drawing forth a memory from years ago.

You remember being in your apartment, the room dimly lit, noises from the streets below drifting through the open windows. Seokmin was on the couch, playing the guitar as he tried to conjure melodies befitting the chords. You sat beside him, basking it all in.

It was a rough day, you can still recall, college work piling up on your desk but you couldn’t begin with any of them due to writer’s block. Instead, you’d called your boyfriend over, because you knew his presence would lift your unease.

And you were right. The moment the apartment door swung open, he immediately folded his arms around your body, pulling you in. You shut your eyes and let his scent fill your lungs. His tenderness, his care—they coursed through you, kindling a warmth you’d been bereft of when he wasn’t around.

“Hey,” he began, a comforting whisper against the troubled thoughts in your mind. “You okay? What’s wrong?”

You leaned against him, your words so muffled you worried he wouldn’t catch them. “Today just isn’t my day.”

You couldn’t say more. And you didn’t need to, because he immediately understood.

He always did, in ways you realized nobody else could. Perhaps that is the reason why, after so many dates Chan has put you through these past two years, you can’t seem to let go. And now, as you watch him perform, you realize that you and Seokmin share something that can neither be so easily forged nor so easily cast away.

And that song, the one he sang for you in your apartment that day, had been a work in progress. An unfinished version of the song he’s now singing on stage in front of the crowd.

The memory of it makes you wonder if he still thinks of you whenever he sings the song. If you ever once cross his mind.

Chances are, he hasn’t even thought of you these past two years. The breakup must have messed you up more than it did him. Regrets have kept you up late through the night, while he probably has moved on with his life, keeping himself busy with his music career, meeting someone new—

But when the song comes to an end, he scans the crowd and, like a stroke of luck, his gaze lands on yours. And you could have sworn he stiffens at the sight of you, in the same way your heart plummets and you can no longer think straight.

☁︎ ☁︎ ☁︎ ☁︎ ☁︎

The chaos disappears the moment Seokmin shuts the door behind him. His breath runs ragged, and light sweat sticks to his clothes. He can’t seem to compose himself; there’s only one thought that runs circles in his head.

It was you, he knows for a certainty. You’d been there.

He recognized you. Of course he did; he’d recognize you anywhere, among any crowd.

But he can’t help asking himself why. Why you came after everything that went down.

He spends the next hour in his trailer wondering. Wondering if you enjoyed the show, if you liked the way he sang. Wondering if, after all this time, he haunts your thoughts the way you still haunt his.

None of that should matter, because you’re no longer his, and he is no longer yours.

The break-up was one of the toughest moments he had to live through. He recalls sitting next to you in his bedroom, tears staining your cheeks and his own. With bloodshot eyes, you asked him, “Are we really doing this?”

“I guess we are.” He had never sounded so resigned.

“Thank you for everything, for being such a loving, supportive boyfriend and being so much more than I deserve,” you said with a sniffle, and his fingers found your cheek.

“You deserve the world. You deserve more than I can ever give you.” He tried to put on a smile, tried to be strong. “You’re the better half of me, remember?”

A humorless laugh. “You’re the better half of me.”

He shook his head. “You’re the kindest, most amazing person I know. I’m so lucky to have ever been yours.”

“So am I. I really wish you didn’t have to go.” Your voice was cracking all over.

Guilt lanced through him. Your relationship wouldn’t have had to end if Seokmin had chosen another career path. But performing on the stage was and has always been his passion, and he could never imagine himself doing anything else. You knew this, and yet you chose to stick by his side, and for that he was grateful.

“I’m really, really going to miss you.” He sobbed, pulling you into an embrace for one last time. He held you close, inhaling your scent, reveling in the feel of your body flushed against his.

And when you walked out the door, it was as if you’d taken parts of him with you, the world having lost its color.

Seokmin truly thought letting go would get easier as the seasons march forward, that time would stitch the wounds strewn across his heart. But two years have passed and here he is, still grieving the relationship he lost. Two years have passed and yet, he still keeps coming back to you.

He hates the way he can’t stifle his emotions, his longing for you practically woven into his every song. At first, he resorted to songwriting because that has always been his way of coping with circumstances he can’t change and feelings he can’t comprehend.

But now he’s gone and made you his constant, his muse.

It shouldn’t matter, he keeps telling himself. But the fact that you showed up at one of his shows...

It feels like an opening, a crevice in the invisible wall that stretches between you both. It gives him hope that perhaps, he isn’t the only one struggling with these feelings. It gives him the courage to do what’s next.

He’s going to go and see you.

☁︎ ☁︎ ☁︎ ☁︎ ☁︎

The sky has turned dark beyond the windows, the busy day drawing to a close.

Like any other Sundays, the café was teeming with people, some of them stopping by for brunch or a quick meet-up, while others lingered longer, books splayed out on the coffee table, their faces illuminated by the light coming from their laptop screens. Today was particularly exhausting since one of your work colleagues, Vernon, took a sick leave, which meant you had to handle more workload than usual.

And tonight, you’re in charge of closing the café, the others having left not long ago. You begin wiping off coffee stains on desks, the action so familiar that you can do it without having to think twice. Your eyes are heavy, limbs threaded with fatigue, and the only thing that keeps you going is the fact that you’re almost through with work.

You’re about to turn off the lights when, suddenly, the doorbell jingles. You frown. It’s beyond closing time.

“We’re about to close—” you call out, but as you look up to see who it is, the words come to a halt, dread running through you.

It’s Seokmin, lingering by the door.

You blink a few times, not quite believing your eyes. But there’s no denying that he is standing there, just a few strides away. The confidence he carried just the night before is now nowhere to be found, and it seems like he’s trying to amass his courage to step through the threshold.

“Hi,” Seokmin starts, his features inscrutable.

You’re unsure how to proceed. Unsure how to address him now when you’d always regarded him as your boyfriend. “Hi. Um, I… we’re about to close.”

A stupid thing to say, but you can’t imagine why he would show up if not for the coffee.

He pushes the bridge of his glasses up his nose. “I know. I just… I was nearby and thought that maybe, you still work here. I guess I wanted to come by.” He continues with more certainty. “I wanted to see you.”

Your mind seems to run blank. How can you respond to that?

He misconstrues your silence and begins stammering. “Uh, well, I mean, unless... Unless this isn’t what you want, which I completely get.” He gestures with his hands the way he always did whenever his self-assurance dwindled. “I’m sorry. I can leave if you want me to—”

“No.” The word leaves you in an instant, so full of emotion you curse yourself for it. You move closer to him, striving for a semblance of calm. “What I mean to say is, it’s okay. You can stay.”

“Yeah?” A timid smile on his lips. “You’re about to close the shop, aren’t you? I can help you with things.”

Your heart warms at his words, at his kindness, and you can’t help but smile back. Being an artist hasn’t changed him. “Would that be okay? I’m almost done, actually. I just have to clean the tables and wash some cups before I leave.”

He rolls up his sleeves and grabs a cloth. “Then I’ll help you with it.”

It doesn’t take long to complete the remaining tasks. You and Seokmin fill the silence by catching up, and you find it comforting how, for a moment in time, you can slip back and pretend as if things are alright. There’s no awkwardness as you banter with him, and he seems genuinely interested to hear how you’ve been. He’s always been a good listener, attentive of even the smallest of details—it’s one of the reasons why you fell for him in the first place.

And before you know it, it’s a little over midnight and you’re locking the doors, about to head home. Seokmin has offered to walk with you despite his early schedule tomorrow, and you’re aware—perhaps too aware—of the way he keeps on glancing at you, like he has something he wishes to say but the words remain unspoken.

That makes it the two of you, then.

The trees lining the sidewalk sway under the wind as the temperature grows colder into the night. You cross your arms over your body and look over at Seokmin, who isn’t faring any better than you, shivering under the purple sweater he dons. His hair is a ruffled mess, and you find yourself wanting to reach out and rake your fingers through it.

It takes everything in you to abandon that idea.

After a while, Seokmin finally breaks the silence. “You were there.”

Your stomach drops. You know where this is going.

“The concert last night, I mean,” he says, looking at you, and you don’t know why the sight of him tugs at your heartstrings so.

You don’t know what to say. You had a feeling earlier that this would come up at some point, but still, you don’t know how to behave when he’s no longer the Seokmin with whom you’d exchange stories and secrets. The Seokmin you’d search for when you had good news to tell or terrible news to break.

At last, you settle for this: “I was. You were amazing out there, Seok. Truly.” The words you’re saying—even though you mean them, they sound so strained.

A pause, before he asks, “Why did you come?”

“I promised you, remember?” You can’t quite expel the heaviness lodged in your throat. “I promised I’d be there.”

Seokmin doesn’t reply, but the small smile he wears tells you that he remembers.

He takes a deep breath. “I’m… I’m really sorry. For everything that happened between us. For the break-up and all the pain I caused you.” His expression is pained, and it hurts you to see him that way.

“It isn’t entirely your fault. I’m sorry, too.” You try to contain your grief but to no avail. “The break-up was difficult for me. And to be completely honest, it still is.”

You don’t know why you kept on talking. It feels like reopening old wounds that haven’t quite scabbed over, letting him in through the cracks he left.

Seokmin looks like he’s surprised. “It is?”

You nod. “I… I keep coming back to the day we broke up, and whenever I do, I’m overcome with regret. I still wish we’d done things differently.” You can’t put a brake on the words that spill out of your mouth, your pent-up emotions finally coming to light.

“I keep thinking of you,” you continue, your voice wavering. “And often, I wonder if you think of me.”

Tears are beginning to well in your eyes. You don’t realize you and Seokmin are no longer walking, having come to a stop in front of your apartment building. It’s time to part ways, but a part of you is having a hard time saying goodbye.

“I…” he begins. He seems like he’s about to reach out to you, lifting his hand briefly towards you only to drop it to his side. You hold his gaze, his brown eyes so striking yet warm. The bangs that frame his face. That small mole on his cheek that he used to hate but you adore so much you helped him change his mind. The perfect curve of his nose, the faint, crimson tinges on his cheeks.

You try to remember the little details, because you know this will be the last time you’ll ever get to see them. The last time you’ll ever get to see him.

Seokmin says nothing in return. He just looks at you, his face inscrutable, and you curse yourself for having let yourself be vulnerable. For putting him in a more uncomfortable position. It’s embarrassing, how you yearn for him when he clearly doesn’t reciprocate your feelings.

“I’m… I’m really sorry for having said all that. I was speaking nonsense, really. I just… I think my brain’s all muddled after today’s shift and all.” Your courage wanes, and you wish you could disappear right now. Fishing out the apartment keys, you gesture towards the door, not stopping even as Seokmin looks like he’s about to say something.

“Thank you for walking me home, Seok. It’s really good seeing you,” you utter quickly, unable to face him. It’s too much.

“Wait—”

But you don’t, walking away from him with tears in your eyes. It’s embarrassing. So fucking embarrassing—

“I’m still in love with you!”

You stop in your tracks. You can’t believe your ears.

Are those words meant for me? You turn around to see him gazing at you, something like longing and desperation in his eyes.

“I’m still in love with you,” he repeats, quieter this time.

This time, you’re the one who’s speechless.

“You said you wonder if I think of you.” He continues, slowly closing the distance between you both. “There’s not a second that I don’t. My music, all those lyrics I’ve written—they’ve always been about you. You’ve always been my muse.”

He stops moving when he’s within arm’s reach. “I’ve tried to move on, but I can never seem to let you go. I can never forget how happy and complete I felt when I was with you, and there is never a moment that I don’t regret breaking up with you.” His voice breaks, but he goes on. “I promised myself that if I ever get the chance some day, I’d try to make things right. And when I saw you during the concert, I thought it as a sign.”

What he’s saying is so hard to believe that you have to ask him again. You have to make sure.

“Are you saying that you still love me?”

“I’ve never stopped.”

You can’t help the smile that slowly spreads across your face. “I’ve never stopped loving you too, Seok.”

He lets out a laugh of relief, lifting his hand to wipe the tears from his eyes. “Even after all this time?”

You don’t answer, closing the gap between you both. Touching your forehead to his, you shut your eyes to revel in the moment. The midnight sky above you, millions of stars strewn across it. The rustling of the wind that moves the trees. The person you love right in front of you. It’s too good to be true.

“Can I kiss you?” He murmurs, his breath fanning your cheeks.

“Yes,” you reply immediately. “God, yes.”

And then his lips meet yours, soft as ever. His fingers graze your chin, tilting your head up to deepen the kiss, and your arms find his sides in a way that reminds you how familiar this is.

This, you realize, tucked in Seokmin’s gentle embrace. This feels so much like coming home.

105 notes · View notes

autumnslance · 2 years

Note

Do you ever get tired of people comparing trauma between Yotsuyu and Fordola? Or how some say Yotsuyu should have lived and Fordola should have died?

I manage to avoid most of it, honestly. Folks who spend a lot of time and energy on character hate don’t tend to get my follows, and sometimes even get filtered/muted, depending on platform. I don’t go digging through the tags very often, either, just take what comes across my dash, and I keep my following count low for various reasons (mostly having to do with my own time, energy, and sanity). Still, there are things I see, so I sigh and eyeroll, and scroll on.

Fordola and Yotsuyu were meant to be two versions of the same story, in two different places, showing the damage of not only the Empire but from their own people, and how that played its part in driving them to accepting the Empire—their abusive conquerers—as the better of bad options for their own goals of security, safety, strength.

I do think one story is told better than the other; I don’t think they should have avoided the nastier parts of Yotsuyu’s history, but the way it was done was clumsy and just didn’t work within the MMO story limits. Especially adding in the infantilization via amnesia, and how poorly Hien is written in handling the Yotsuyu issue, which keeps affecting Doma’s story even through Endwalker. If Hien were just screwing up, OK, he’s young and new to ruling, but he’s simply not allowed to be the heroic character he’s supposed to be through it.

Anyway; I figured either Yotsuyu or Fordola would die, and the other get to work toward redemption. Toward learning and seeing a different way than the one they had spent most or all of their lives laboring under amid abuse, discrimination, and propaganda. While the other gets a redemptive moment, but dies in the process. It was simply a matter of which one.

“Death Equals Redemption”, while a popular trope, can also too often be a cop-out. The audience is supposed to “forgive” someone for one shining moment after a lot of bad while they escape actual consequences, actual effort, in dealing with what they did. It’s often an appeasement; give a villain their comeuppance for those who want to see it, while also some kind of nice moment for the fans of that character. But real redemption takes time and personal work, and does not at all mean someone has to be forgiven by those they’ve wronged. Yotsuyu’s is handled better than some. She did learn a few things, and genuinely cared for Gosetsu. If she couldn’t have her revenge on Doma, she could at least get Asahi for everything he’d done, and I maintain she went into that situation knowing that was the best she’d get as it was otherwise suicide-by-WoL, which was also acceptable to her as she regained her memories and the ability to feel remorse with them. But she also doesn’t get the chance to move forward from that moment, which is a waste of those lessons and the ability to put them into practice, which is where some of the fan disappointment comes in.

I think it turned out as it did because Lyse takes to heart the lessons she had learned through the story, combined with her life as a Scion, giving her a more global view in general. She’s able to find a different path for all of Ala Mhigo, letting go of their tumultuous history to build a new future together, so offers that opportunity to Fordola. Hien can’t quite yet see the societal issues in Doma that he stands within and gets written into a corner, especially with the portrayal of trying to rebuild Doma similar to how it used to be, holding onto traditions that gave the Domans strength through the occupation (as they hadn’t the same issues that Ala Mhigo did pre-empire).

Yotsuyu and Fordola have different but just as valid abuses and traumas—and commit similar abuses and traumas on others—though some folks feel more sympathy for one than the other. For some fans it’s a reflection of their own painful pasts, letting them empathize with one or the other more. For some folks, it’s simply finding one character’s personality more grating than the other. For some, it’s simply about finding one “hotter” than the other, a matter of basic aesthetic appeal. There’s some folks who don’t think antagonists should get a chance to change and find redemption at all, especially if they conflate “forgiveness” in it, which the game has deliberately shown is not the same a few times now. And for some, it’s the perceived unfairness in how one story is clumsily resolved in tragedy, while the other is getting what I actually think is the best written and paced redemption story in a game that usually handwaves those for our reforming antagonists. In many cases, it’s simply character preference leading to emotional responses, and not about what the characters are bringing to the narrative and why.

Because you can’t really have one character without the other within the “war and what comes after” story of Stormblood. These women are comparisons and commentary on the imperialism/colonialism, but also on their respective nations. Their stories work in tandem, separate but the same in many ways, challenging their narrative foils (Lyse and Hien) to think and consider and learn; one fails, the other succeeds, due to how they are moving toward their nations’ futures. Tearing down one woman to elevate the other is missing a point in what these characters mean for a story of societal redemption, as well as their own individually, and what they teach the heroes along the way.

#final fantasy xiv #stormblood #Yotsuyu goe Brutus #Fordola rem Lupis #character analysis #literary analysis #opinion #Lyn Prompts #Blogging

174 notes · View notes