#also i feel like the links here are more important that visibility in those tags so shadowban be damned

[anistarrose]

I want to make my posts more accessible, but can't write IDs myself: a guide

[Plain text: "I want to make my posts more accessible, but can't write IDs myself: a guide." End plain text.]

While every image posted online should be accessible in an ideal world, we all know it 1) takes time to learn how to write image descriptions, and 2) is easy to run out of spoons with which to write IDs. And this says nothing of disabilities that make writing them more challenging, if not impossible — especially if you're a person who benefits from IDs yourself.

There are resources for learning how to write them (and if you already know the basics, I'd like to highlight this good advice for avoiding burnout) — but for anyone who cannot write IDs on their original posts at any current or future moment, for any reason, the there are two good options for posting on Tumblr.

1. Crowdsource IDs through the People's Accessibility Discord

[Plain text: "1. Crowdsource IDs through the People's Accessibility Discord". End plain text.]

The People's Accessibility Discord is a community that volunteers description-writing (and transcript-writing, translation, etc) for people who can't do so themselves, or feel overwhelmed trying to do so. Invite link here (please let me know if the link breaks!)

The way it works is simple: if you're planning to make an original post — posting art, for example — and don't know how to describe it, you can share the image there first with a request for a description, and someone will likely be able to volunteer one.

The clear upside here (other than being able to get multiple people's input, which is also nice) is that you can do this before making the Tumblr post. By having the description to include in your post from the start, you can guarantee that no inaccessible version of the post will be circulated.

You can also get opinions on whether a post needs to be tagged for flashing or eyestrain — just be able to spoiler tag the image or gif you're posting, if you think it might be a concern. (Also, refer here for info on how to word those tags.)

The server is very chill and focused on helping/answering questions, but if social anxiety is too much of a barrier to joining, or you can't use Discord for whatever reason, then you can instead do the following:

2. Ask for help on Tumblr, and update the post afterwards

[Plain text: "Ask for help on Tumblr, and update the post afterwards". End description.]

Myself and a lot of other people who describe posts on this site are extra happy to provide a description if OP asks for help with one! This does leave the post inaccessible at first, so to minimize the drawbacks, the best procedure for posting an image you can't fully describe would be as follows:

Create the tumblr post with the most bare-bones description you can manage, no matter how simple (something like "ID: fanart of X character from Y. End ID" or "ID: a watercolor painting. End ID," or literally whatever you can manage)

Use a tool like Google Lens or OCR to extract text if applicable and if you have the energy, even if the text isn't a full image description (ideally also double-check the transcriptions, because they're not always perfect)

Write in the body of the post that you'd appreciate a more detailed description in the notes!

Tag the post as "undescribed" and/or "no id" only if you feel your current, bare-bones description is missing out on a lot of important context

When you post it and someone provides an ID, edit the ID into the original post (don't use read mores, italics, or small text)

Remove the undescribed tag, if applicable. If you're posting original art, you can even replace it with a tag like "accessible art" for visibility!

And congrats! You now have a described post that more people will be able to appreciate, and you should certainly feel free to self-reblog to give a boost to the new version!

#accessibility #image descriptions

[dragonheart2497]

things twitter migrants may find useful that dont often get included in "how to tumblr" posts

1- queueing!

instead of feeling bad for spam-reblogging and clogging up other people's feeds, you can click the dropdown and add it to your queue instead!

you can edit how many times a day your queue posts, and between what hours. You can easily re-order or completely shuffle your queue as well!

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE REBLOG STUFF. Tumblr doesn't run on an algorithm!! YOU are responsible for putting cool stuff onto your followers feeds!

"but if i reblog too much people can't see my posts!" i have just the thing for you

2- personal tags

You can have different tags you use on your blog to help people navigate! for example, i use "dh rb art" when I reblog art and "dh rb" for most other reblogs- that's so that people can filter my reblogs out of their feeds if they dont wanna see that, and only want my original posts to show up.

On the other hand, my art is tagged "dh2497" so they can easily search my account for it!

If you open a person's blog and click the search button, a list of Featured Tags will show up. By default this is just the blogger's most used tags, but you can customize what shows up on yours in your blog settings

You can follow entire hashtags too! if you wanna see hermitcraft fanart without following every hermitcraft artist, follow the tag :D

3- Filtering

Tumblr actually hides things you don't wanna see, very nicely!

In your account settings, you can filter specific tags, and even specific words that show up in the post.

sometimes different bloggers warning tag differently (i do [trigger] tw or [content] cw) so you can try to input every variant, but if its something you really want to avoid just put it in the post content as well. Blocklists aren't really a tumblr thing, so if you wanna avoid an entire community you can block their tag as well

NEVER. CENSOR. YOUR WARNINGS. PLEASE. On twitter or tiktok or wherever, you may have to do that or else the algorithm suppresses it- THERES NO ALGORITHM HERE!!! if someone reblogs your post, it will show up for others, don't worry!!! you're just bypassing filters placed for people's safety, if you censor words.

Also! don't worry too much if a word you wanna filter is commonly used in unrelated contexts- tumblr doesn't remove it entirely, but rather adds a 'spoiler' so that you have to click on it to view it. So just in case it is what you want to avoid, you have time to prepare to see it.

4- effective tagging

[read more in detail here] Only the first 5 tags will show up for people who follow the hashtag. That makes them the most important! Then, the first 20 tags will make the post show up when searching that tag. The rest of them do not give your post any visibility.

I see a lot of people reblogging art with fanart tags- that can be useful for searching back the tag in the reblogger's blog specifically, but doesn't actually give the OP more visibility in that tag.

You'll learn what tags to use by checking the content you come across! most communities are "[word]blr", and most fanart goes "#[character/show] fanart". tumblr tags can have spaces!

Lastly, a few notes

you will only have 1 PRIMARY blog. this will appear when you like a post, comment on a post, or follow a blog. your sideblogs will not link back to your primary blog, but you cannot do those interactions as those sideblogs.

artists love receiving compliments when you reblog!! commenting does NOT boost the post. most people put their compliments in the TAGS of their reblog, so that it doesn't become a long post/thread, and if people reblog the reblog of your reblog you won't keep gettings notifications about it. The artist will still see and very much appreciate it

read up on tumblr etiquette, do not treat this place like twitter or you'll be disliked lol. there are some 'big blogs' but follower counts aren't public, popularity isn't a contest here. make friends, or just block/ignore people you don't get along with. no one cares about your petty arguments

if you noticed the lil cat in my screenshots, that's from a very useful browser extension called XKit!! it enables 1-click queue reblogs (automatically adding your tags), mass-post editing, and lots of other great tweaks vanilla tumblr doesn't have! and the cat is a silly cute thing you can enable in it as well

#hermitblr #trafficblr #empiresblr #hermittwt #traffictwt #how to use tumblr #how to tag on tumblr #tumblr help #i didnt mean for this to be a whole tutorial thing but if it helps one person it's worth the hour i spent on this

[guardian-angle22]

Happy to present to y'all this 911LS fic list for stories related to one of my favorite episodes 3.13 Riddle of the Sphynx! I try to make these as comprehensive as possible, so if you have any you think I missed, let me know so I can add them. (I also might make edits to these posts to add more fics as they get written. If I ever do so I'll be sure to reblog the post for visibility!)

Enjoy all of our amazing fandom writers and leave them some comments & love!

[Disclaimers: • If you're an author and don't like to be tagged or linked for any reason, let me know and I'll remove the tag and make sure not to do so in the future, no questions asked. • I usually post TWs in rec lists. Due to the episode subject matter, assume all of these have a TW for discussion of addiction/drug use and possibly discussion of parent death/grief.]

◆ Chasers by @carlos-in-glasses (Words: 13.4K; Rating: E)

After 3x13 – while TK is alone with Cooper, Carlos is alone with his thoughts. Both recall times they’ve chased the next high, other men, or each other. When Carlos arrives home, TK still has something important to say – and it's something he didn’t tell Cooper.

◆ trying my best by @reyescarlos (Words: 10.3K; Rating: M)

An exploration of TK's sobriety journey from 2017 to now. Or, a season 3 coda spanning 3x08-3x13

◆ You Showed me How it feels to Truly be Seen by @ramblingdisaster73 (Words: 3K; Rating: T)

Carlos works through the events of 3x13 "The Riddle of the Sphinx".

◆ Measure of a Man by @chicgeekgirl89 (Words: 1.8K; Rating: T)

“I want to be everything you need. That I can’t be, it hurts, T.K. It feels like a failure on my part. And as much as I’m trying to accept it, it’s hard.” A 3x13 coda in which Carlos struggles with a new definition of being "enough."

◆ I'll be here all the same by @strandnreyes (Words: 4.8K; Rating: G)

“I am glad you have someone you can talk to who can maybe do a better job at fixing things,” Carlos insists before dropping his eyes to their tangled together fingers. “All I want is for you to be okay.”It’s not surprising to hear, but it hits as if it was. That really is the root of this whole thing. As much as Carlos wants to do what he can to be the person to get TK to that place, at the end of the day all he really wants is for TK to get there.“I will be.”Or, three late night conversations following the events of 3.13

◆ Trigger by comes2gusu (Words: 4.7K; Rating: T)

TK is struggling with his newly found sobriety. After being triggered at an NA meeting, Cooper takes TK for omelets

◆ this love we carry by @thevenstar (Words: 7.6K; Rating: T)

A 3x13 coda in which Carlos has a conversation with a friend, puts his heart to rest, and learns that walking away does not mean surrender.

◆ Those Pieces by @taralaurel (Words: 7.3K; Rating: M)

"I, I'm not telling you all - this - so you can fix me," TK huffs a hot breath against Carlos' chin, "or save me or really, do anything, okay?" Carlos nods against TK's forehead. TK has done a lot of things in his life to deserve the bad that has happened to him. He has no idea what good he's done to deserve Carlos. Coda to 3x13

◆ the one i want by @chaotictarlos (Words: 2K; Rating: E)

TK gets Carlos to take his shirt off.

◆ i want you to unravel me by @reyescarlos (Words: 4.2K; Rating: E)

In the aftermath of the strain that's fallen over them, TK and Carlos bridge the gap with open conversation that brings them closer together, both emotionally and physically. [3x13 coda]

◆ Just Wanna Breathe by @theoceanismyinkwell (Words: 1.9K; Rating: G)

Carlos doesn’t dare look at him for long, knowing that his eyes have always been the window to his soul, the weakest part of his body, unveiling everything in the well of truths he’s kept a lid on for years and years. His family may not be able to read him as well as he feared for the decades he was in the closet, but TK has a way of crashing into his life with a formidable gentleness and a piercing understanding that unmoors him in every possible way.And that’s precisely what TK is doing now, keeping the warmth of his palms flush against the beating of Carlos’ skin, cradling his face, forcing them both to gaze into each other’s eyes and face each other’s unspoken terrors without flinching.TK sounds like he has a lump in his throat. “I’m going to say something, and I want you to listen to me and I want you to remember it.”---Or: What happens when Carlos comes back home after TK's talk with Cooper, and the confessions that spill out after.

◆ waiting on the sidelines by @morganaspendragonss (Words: 1.5K; Rating: T)

They’d promised each other no more secrets, and while Carlos rationally knows that these aren’t exactly secrets, there’s still this grain of resentment inside of him that scratches away with every beat of his heart. It’s something he can’t let show in front of TK ever again, which is why he’s here, outside Owen's house while TK and Cooper talk in the loft.If anyone’s going to understand what he’s feeling, it’s Owen Strand.

◆ Three Weeks In by @masterroadtripper (Words: 3K; Rating: T; TW: self-harm)

It’d been three weeks since Sadie had drugged them - nineteen days since TK started a ninety-day NA sobriety program at the local Synagogue and eleven days since Carlos had met Cooper for the first time - before Carlos realized that there was something else TK wasn’t telling him.

◆ What We Need by Ehm (Words: 3.1K; Rating: T)

"You okay, bud?" Cooper startled him out of his thoughts and he let go of the spoon with a clinking noise. He straightened up, embarrassed. "Sorry, I zoned out." "I can see that," Cooper sounded vaguely amused. "You wanna talk about it?" --- Three times TK has a conversation with Cooper, and one time he talks to Carlos. Or, 3x13 and beyond from TK's point of view.

◆ Nocturne by @sanctuaryforalluniverses (Words: 735; Rating: T)

Carlos comes home. (Post-ep for 3x13)

◆ Precious Love by @rmd-writes (Words: 11.6K; Rating: M)

This is five times TK thinks he doesn’t deserve love and one time he knows he does – an exploration of TK’s relationship with love and self-worth.

◆ Inside a snow globe by @goodways (Words: 6.9K; Rating: E)

It isn’t until TK is on top, lavishing Carlos’ neck, stroking his hand up his side, that Carlos brings their faces together, barely a suggestion of a kiss between them. He holds TK’s jaw and keeps him close whilst he readies the question in his mind. He breathes out a straightforward and tempting, “fuck me,” over TK’s lips which silences the world outside their bedroom. TK’s response whenever he’s asked for this has few variations between immediate enthusiastic compliancy and the sweet reassurance he knows Carlos is dying for. The answer is always yes. - The evening after TK gets his one month sobriety chip.

◆ my home has been your heart since the day i met you by @lavendergiroux (Words: 1.8K; Rating: M)

After Carlos leaves Cooper and TK to talk, all they do is talk about him. When Carlos comes home - they are still talking about him.

◆ Deep Talks and Cuddles by raniaswritings (Words: 1.2K; Rating: T)

TK talks to Cooper and Carlos comes back home after a few hours

◆ “What are you doing?” “I don’t want you to do that.” by @irispurpurea (Words: 1.1K; Rating: T)

Fictober 2022 Day 13 and 14. Prompts: “What are you doing?” “I don’t want you to do that.” “What are you doing?” Carlos looks up to find TK frowning at him from their bedroom. “I…” Carlos holds up the blanket in his hands, unsure what else to say. He thinks it’s pretty obvious what he’s doing. Then again, tonight has proven that he can’t do anything right, apparently, when it comes to TK.

◆ "It's your shirt..." by @lavendergiroux (Words: 780; Rating: M)

TK really didn't want to talk about it, he just really needed Carlos to claim him...

◆ sunkissed face by mooshkat (Words: 1K; Rating: T)

To show his appreciation, TK decides to make Carlos breakfast.

Spec Fics Written Prior to the Episode Airing/Canon Convergence:

◆ if the darkness comes, i'll stay by @doublel27 (Words: 3.2K; Rating: T)

“I had some things to do,” TK says, his stomach twisting. “Some things?” “Carlos, I texted,” TK reminds his boyfriend, because he did. “It’s fine.” “Is it?” Carlos asks, his voice dangerously calm. or TK comes home late for the third night in one week, and he and Carlos have a necessary confrontation. A speculative fic for 3x13.

◆ Caught by @littlemissmarianna (Words: 761; Rating: G)

“Who’s that?” Carlos doesn’t answer Mitchell’s question because he doesn’t know. There’s only a handful of people he can identify from the back, and this guy isn’t on the list. He has broad shoulders, though, and nice hair and is probably good-looking. Why else would TK be staring at him so intently?

◆ In Order to Get Back to Us by reyestrand (Words: 2.2K; Rating: G)

Carlos waits up for TK when he’s late coming home and they talk about the things they’re afraid to. - a 3x13 speculation fic

◆ still comparing your past to my future by @kiras-sunshine (Words: 17.4K; Rating: T)

Something else than the wallowing feeling of uneasiness, anxiety and hurt in the bottom of his stomach. All of it seems to have a chokehold on his heart and no matter what he tries to think about, his thoughts always go back to TK, to worry that keeps mixing in with everything, and the brightness of TK’s smile, the way the corner of his mouth curled up and his eyes shone, when he smiled at someone else than him.

#911 lone star #911 lone star fic rec #fic recs #fic rec list #tarlos fic #episode: s3e13 riddle of the sphynx #fic writers are amazing and we need to hype them up #my gifs #cutting it close on finishing up this list while still on the rewatch week for it!

[erisweekofficial]

Eris Week 2024: Rules, Prompts, and FAQ

Welcome to the official Eris Week Blog!

This post is intended to serve as a master post for the entire event. It will include the dates, prompts, rules, and a FAQ! Make sure to click the read more to get ALL the information!

Prompts and Master Lists

2024 Prompts

Event Master Lists

2023 Eris Week Master List 2024 Eris Week Master List (TBA)

🔥🔥🔥

Rules

Eris Week supports all mediums of creativity (art, fics, mood boards, playlists, incorrect quotes, headcanons, drabbles, theories, etc)

You can ship Eris with anyone and everyone. This blog is ship-neutral and will support all works. Eris x OCs and Eris x Reader are welcome too! 

There is no restriction on content. You're welcome to post NSFW as long as you tag appropriately.

Be as wild as you like! Every day has a prompt, but they are purely optional! Like last year, we’ll be providing some additional guidance and questions per prompt, to help you brainstorm ideas! 

We do not tolerate hate. Please do not argue or spread negativity on other creators' content during this week. We are here to support one another and celebrate one of our favorite characters! If you are not a fan of Eris, you are welcome to block this blog! Your peace of mind is important as is that of our creators.

We will not reblog or interact with any AI art.

We will have a Collection (ErisWeek2024) on AO3! Do some double duty and post your masterpiece there too!

🔥🔥🔥

FAQ

How do I participate in Eris Week?

During Eris Week, please post your content on tumblr. Tag this blog in the main body of your post (@erisweekofficial) and tag your post with #erisweek2024. If you are posting on AO3, make sure to add your work to the Eris Week AO3 Collection and post your link here on tumblr.  If we don’t reblog your post within 24 hours, feel free to send us a message with the link! We would never intentionally not reblog someone’s post. 

How can I see all the works posted during Eris Week? 

During Eris week, we will compile a list of all works created for that day and post the following morning, Eastern Time. So, Day 1 we will reblog all Day 1 content. Then we’ll start off Day 2 by posting the Day 1 master list and then start reblogging all Day 2 content. This is so we can try to account for multiple time zones. If we miss your post or the link is wrong etc, please reach out and we will fix ASAP.  At the end of the event we will have THE MASTER LIST to rule them all that will contain links to each day’s master list. 

If I’m not a creator, how can I support Eris Week?

Leading up to the event, reblog our posts and/ or let your favorite creators know this event is happening! Visibility is incredibly helpful!  Reblog and comment on Eris Vanserra works leading up to and during the event! Supporting work now will encourage creators for the event week itself!  During Eris Week, be sure to leave a nice comment on AO3 works as well! 

I want to participate, but I am nervous! Do you have any advice? 

Character event Weeks are an excellent way to practice your craft, take risks, and explore art in a low stakes environment. Here are some words of wisdom that have helped folks in the past:  When in doubt, start small! Write a drabble, write some bullet points, make a sketch. All of this is 100% accepted and supported during Eris week.  Don’t feel like you have to do something for every day! Pick one or two days that really resonate with you and make content for those days!  Don’t compare yourself with others! It’s hard, especially when well known folks are also participating. But remember, everyone is happy to get any content, especially Eris fans. We’re hungry for anything folks will give us! And one day, you may be that well-known creator ;)  Don’t aim for perfection! Post something with typos, get a canon detail wrong! People will ignore it and love what you’ve made anyways. I am sure that somewhere in these guidelines, there is a typo! Embrace the chaos!  If you’re looking for some reassurance, share your work with a friend ahead of time. Get their feedback! Sometimes a little encouragement can go a long way. Both of the Eris Week organizers are creators and are more than happy to chat with you about ideas, offer advice, or simply cheer you on. 

I have a question that isn’t here!

Feel free to send us asks, we’d love to hear from you all! You can send questions, head canons, ideas, or anything else! If you have a question you’d like us to answer privately, be sure to let us know in the ask. Otherwise, all other asks will be published on our blog. 

#eris vanserra #pro eris vanserra #autumn court #eris acotar #acotar #high lord eris #erisweek2024

[spaceisout]

𝙨𝙚𝙘𝙧𝙚𝙩 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙡𝙙 // 𝙠𝙚𝙞𝙜𝙤 𝙩𝙖𝙠𝙖𝙢𝙞

Pairing: Keigo Takami x F!Reader

Words: 2.221

Summary: being married young was never in either of your plans, more or less being married to a hero and a quirkless human. still, it made an interesting switch to your lives, one you might not regret.

Warning(s): angst, fluff,

A/n: I apologize for the delayed update, my week became a lot more busier than I had expected. Also taglist is available to anyone who would like to be updated. Any donations are appreciated it is a way I can help contribute to pay bills while I'm able to get a job <3

Links: donate to the author, masterlist (coming soon), current series list

Taglist: @alligator-person @bakugosgirl01 @deathkat657 @justanerd1 @multilingual-birb @urdecentartist09 @abbylouamanda @keigo-hawks-takami-simp

(if there is anyone I missed on the list pls let me know, enjoy! <3)

◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤ ◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤

5 ◁ II ▷ 7

"Can you fly me around with your ice?!" a child exclaimed looking up at the bi-colored hero with excitement.

"Uum... ice is technically to hard to fly around with." He explained with crossed arms, "But I can transport you to places...almost like a car I guess?"

"Why the hell are we even here for?!" The blonde yelled looking annoyed with the amount of weird questions that he kept on getting.

"Come on, Kaachan." His friend calmly said, "You said you wanted to tag along too remember?"

"Y-yeah to teach them about being a hero," Kaachan explained. "N-not to deal with weird kids who won't even listen a word I f-"

"Language, Bakugo." Best Jeanist interrupted him. "Remember we are an example for these future heroes."

He looked away, grumbling under his breath.

"Then why is feathers, flirting with the teachers?" He questioned pointing at Hawks, "I thought we were supposed to talk with the kids!"

Best Jeanist followed his pointing finger and saw Hawks talking with you. He sighed, knowing this was going to happen eventually but thought it would take longer than five minutes.

"Make sure to keep an eye on the students." He said talking to Endeavor and walked over to your group.

"I gotta say I'm amazed at how high the kids spirits are." Keigo said looking at you. "Nowadays it is difficult to make sure they don't lose hope just because they're not like everyone else."

You knew he meant those words sincerely, especially since the cases of bullying have risen recently.

"I honestly at times can't protect them from feeling like an outsider in a world where they belong." You explained looking at them as they surrounded the dirty blonde with happiness. "I want to do all I can to make sure their confidence isn't broken when they go to junior high. They deserve to feel like heroes in their own lives whether they have quirks or not."

"Our colleagues and friends have focused on making sure their worth isn't justified by the family their born into or the quirk their relatives might have that they don't." Mio added, "We want them to live like the kids they are."

"Whether they decide to go into a field of public service or pursue a career of what they're passionate about we don't want them to forget their worth." Hizashi spoke up, "They're just as important as heroes."

Keigo saw the look of endearment and passion in your eyes. It was visibly shown to anyone who looked your way, how much you care about them. Now he understands why you stayed up most nights when he visited your family, you were preparing lesson plans even on your days off.

"Hawks!"

He jumped back in surprise seeing Best Jeanist standing in front of him. Keigo composed himself and gave him a dazzling smile making Mio swoon over him.

"Hey buddy! How are the kids treating you?"

"You are supposed to be with them as well, they've been asking about you." He said.

"I just came over here for a minute to talk with some of their teachers." Keigo explained, "Let me introduce you to Mio Takahashi, Rio Hizashi, and last but not least (first name) (last name)."

"It's very nice to meet you." Best Jeanist said shaking each of your hands.

"No, the pleasure is all ours." You said as Mio and Hizashi nodded. "I'm very happy to see everyone took some time to come and visit our students during their sports festival. We really appreciate it, it means a lot to them to see you guys."

"Hawks called us over as soon as he got the call from the principle." He explained, "We did not hesitate to agree, we wanted to come and meet them."

You knew he was such a humble hero but your respect for him went far above and beyond.

"Ah, Mr. Hawks! Mr. Best Jeanist!" The principle yelled out. "Our next event is about to start soon, we would love for you to participate with our students."

"Of course we would be honored to help out the little heroes!" Keigo exclaimed.

"Thank you!" She smiled, "The next event will be a tug of war between all classes. You can go ahead and choose a class as well as your students, we would love it if they joined in too."

"I'll go and let them know." Best Jeanist said.

"Do you mind if I tag along too?"

"Not at all."

It was plainly obvious that the principle had a crush on him, or really admired him.

"Mrs. Kimura is a big, fan huh?" Keigo said.

"That goes without saying." You chuckled lightly.

"Oh, (name) do you have the number tags?" Hizashi asked.

"Right, I forgot to bring them out." You sigh, "I'll go get them."

"Is it alright if I tag along?" Keigo asked looking at you sweetly.

"I can go-" Hizashi was about to say but you shook your head.

"It's alright. It shouldn't take me too long."

"I insist, plus I kinda wanna see the school from the inside too." Keigo insisted.

Looking in between them it was hard to choose, still Keigo decided to come and visit you at your work place.

"Okay," you said earning a smile from him. "You did take some time to come see the students so I'll give you a tour then."

"Awesome!"

You looked at Hizashi, "We'll be back in a bit."

He nodded and you two walked off by yourselves towards your classroom. As soon as you got some more distance and were sure there was no one else you spoke up.

"How come you did not tell me that you were coming?"

Keigo stopped, you mirrored his movement, to look at you.

"I wanted it to be a surprise." He explained, "I've seen the way you work yourself out for them." His hands rested on your shoulders, slowly they went down your arms, giving your body goosebumps, and stopped on both your wrists. "I wanted to meet the students that stole my wife's heart."

"I'm just- I'm still surprised that you're here, Keigo." You softly spoke, "It feels somewhat normal... like you came to visit on a random day..." There was a bit of hesitation on the last words you wanted to say to him.

A smile formed on his face as he used one of his hands to reach up and hold your cheek.

"Like a husband does?" He said, "Visiting his wife at her work place?"

Your lips parted, "Well-"

"I admit it I did not know if it was a good idea to come considering how things have been. But... when I heard it was the name of the same school you were working at I did not want to waste any time and automatically said yes without thinking."

Keigo was... interested in my school, because of me?

"I only heard a few stories about this place." He continued looking around at the colored walls that separates each classroom from the last. His eyes then landed on yours, his smile not faltering. "I wanted to visit the place that holds a special place in your heart... in hopes to learn more about you."

"K-keigo..."

With every person you had ever known, they never managed to make you feel like he does. Given that you have only known him for less than four months, it blows you away. Keigo was different, in your eyes.

"You have no idea how much it means to me that you're here." You confessed, "My parents are far too busy and far away to come see where I work. Himiko... well things are difficult with her at the moment. I wanted to share my everyday life with someone, to tell them about the shenanigans or activities my students did. Now that I got married to you and I have been able to tell you about it all , it's made my life a whole lot better than I ever realized."

Keigo's heart started to pick up a different type of rhythm.

"Keigo I-!" your eyes widened for a moment then they faltered, making his smile disappear.

"Tell me what you're thinking, (name)."

Biting your lip you tried to figure out if what you wanted to say would affect him in some way. Right now you felt blessed to have someone like him in your life. Keigo became another piece to your whole puzzle. A piece you weren't sure yet about how important his part has played a role.

"Whatever it might be," he gently tilted your head back to meet your eyes. "You can tell me."

Your eyes started to get covered with a transparent liquid, making it quite blurry to see.

"I did not realize how much you would change my life..." You blinked the tears letting them roll down your cheek but as always he was there to prevent them from hitting the ground. "I mean I know I-I sometimes over phrase everything and think it but don't say it. Up until now I watched the little things you have done for me even since before we ever got married."

As you spoke, our brain started to replay all those moments.

"You never hesitated to get closer to me even when I was too shy to speak. Anyone else would have given up but you didn't. I don't know if since then I felt safe to be with you but as time passes by and we spend time together... you're someone I do not ever want leaving my side."

"I'm starting to realize the same thing," On instinct he leaned his head down closer trying to close the gap between you both. "Everyday you are making me the happiest person than I ever was. You are molding me into someone better, and I want you to know that you are the reason because of this."

"Keigo..." you breathed out feeling tears slipping faster.

His eyes travelled down from your (color lips) lips to your eyes hoping to get a sign or a one word answer to his silent plea.

Little by little you felt yourselves gravitating to towards one another, closing the gap between you both. Your eyes not breaking away from one another. Slowly, leaning in giving the other enough time to pull away in case there was regret.

What seemed like inches away suddenly became just a centimeter between you both. Without any sign of hesitation, your lips finally met in the middle.

Eyes widening with surprise knowing well this was what you both wanted.

Keigo's eyes closed first as he started to lose himself in your lips. His hands holding both your cheeks, feeling him pulling you closer to him, wanting to get as close as possible.

Your body suddenly started to feel lighter. The weight you once felt on every limb suddenly disappeared. You were too shocked to close your eyes until you felt the way his lips moved in sync with your own.

Slowly they began to close, your hands moving to rest on each side of his waist. You started to sense the way your body was feeling against his.

As cliche as it sounds, it truly did feel like both your hearts were connected in that moment.

In his whole life he had vowed to never get romantically involved. All he wanted and focused on was protecting his mom from his villain father. He needed for her to feel safe in this world, without any fear of a villain attacking her.

But his view then changed once he met you. All of a sudden his world didn't seem so closed off. You became part of his life despite knowing everything about him, even then, you stayed. You opened up to him about things he never thought about.

And just like that, he grew accustomed to your routine of waking up, making breakfast, dinner, or waiting up for one another to make it back home safe and sound. It was a ritual, no, a rhythm he wanted to continue feeling for as long as you'd allow him to.

With flushed faces you both parted your lips, but your hold stayed still on one another.

"T-that... um." Keigo chuckled lightly suddenly feeling shy.

But you were in the same boat, "Y-yeah."

Both of you then erupted into soft laughter, you did not quite understood if it was the rush of how amazing it felt kissing one another or the fact that you were embarrassed to look at each other after such an intimate kiss.

Still, you looked at each other with happy filled dazed faces.

"(n-name)?"

The color drained from each other's faces as you heard a familiar voice calling out to you.

"Did you just-" they shook their head not even wanting to finish the sentence. "You didn't really... kiss Hawks, right?..."

Keigo held your hand tightly, intertwining his fingers with your own in a protective gesture.

"Mio..." Your close friend wasn't alone, "Hizashi..."

"What is going on?..." Hizashi questioned not bothering to look at Keigo.

"Listen... I swear that there's a good reason-"

"What reason is there for him to kiss you like that?!" He yelled.

Keigo stepped forward, "Let's not start yelling okay? We can talk it out like the adults we are-"

"I wasn't talking to you." Hizashi retorted, "For all I know you're just using her."

"Hizashi, Mio..." You sighed looking at them both. "I'm sorry I did not tell you the truth... but the person I married his Hawks."

"What?..."

"B-but you said he was a regular person!" Mio exclaimed.

"I'm sorry for deceiving you... I had to make up a fake husband in order to keep my real marriage a secret." You explained, "I had no other choice... we did not want to risk anything bad happening."

"Like what?" Mio asked not fully understanding anything that's going on. "What bad thing could possibly happen?"

"Listen, there's still some villains who are trying to settle the score with me." Keigo said, "The battle may be over but there's no telling when they might attack. I did not want to put (name) in harm's way."

"The why did you even ask her to marry you if this marriage was going to be a secret?"

"He didn't ask me to marry him." You said, "I was the one who asked him in exchange for a favor he was doing for my parents."

"You-"

"There you guys are!" The principle smiled as she approached you, "Miss (Last Name) did you find those number tags that we need?"

"Y-yeah! I apologize I got side tracked with showing Hawks around the school." You awkwardly chuckled.

"No worries, I understand. But please make sure to hurry the parents have been waiting along with the heroes."

"I will!" You exclaimed trying to smile as she looked at you before walking away. Once she was gone you turned to look at both your friends. "I know there's a lot of questions you both must have and I want to answer them."

"(name)'s right, you both are close to her and deserve to know the truth." Keigo said, "Why don't you two come by our house after the event is over with? We can explain it there more calmly."

Hizashi looked at Mio, and she looked back at him. There was uncertainty in each other's eyes, not knowing if there was any explanation to this situation.

"Okay." Mio said, "We'll come by after school after all this event is for the students and I don't want to ruin it for them."

Hizashi agree. "She's right, it is best if we talk somewhere private."

You nodded feeling a small relief that they'd be willing to hear you out. "Thank you."

"Alright is everyone ready?!" You spoke into the microphone, looking out at the scene in front of you.

"We're not losing!" Bakugo yelled feeling determined to win. "You guys better be pulling your weight too!"

"We are not about to let them win!" Sato exclaimed, "We're going to easily win this round."

"That's what I'm talking about!"

Midoriya started to feel a bit nervous now, "He sure does know how to get them excited it seems."

"Mr. Deku?" Suzuki spoke tugging at his sleeve. "Do you... think we're going to win?..."

Midoriya smiled, "Well they're good opponents I won't lie, but that doesn't mean we're going to lose without a fight right?"

"R-right!"

"On my mark," you said. "Ready?... Pull!"

"Start pulling!" Bakugo yelled.

"We can do this!" Midoriya retorted looking straight ahead as he pulled with all the strength he had.

"You're going down nerd!" He smirked gritting his teeth as he tugged at the long rope.

"I gotta say, they're an interesting group." You chuckled.

"I apologize for his sudden outbursts," Best Jeanist spoke. "He's a very explosive hero."

You shook your head, "Not at all. I understand, it's passion. If I had a quirk as well I'd probably be the same way as him."

"Does the principle not hire anyone who has a quirk?"

"Initially that was her plan but lately since more and more people are being born with quirks they usually take the route of becoming a hero." You explained, "These students might be the last ones to come here."

"What do you mean?"

Turning to look at him you continued, "A lot of more schools are being built and are being equipped with qualified teachers to help control their quirks. This school was built for people like us. We're normal teachers, so it won't be so surprising if they decide to tear this school down in the future."

"But there's still students who need teachers like you to guide them into the right path, whether they have a quirk or not."

A small smile formed on your lips, "I still have the thought o continuing to teach even if this school won't be here anymore. But it's hard to find a way to land a job at times."

"I promise we're going to try and figure something out." He said resting his hand on your shoulder. "This school has a great group of teachers, that need to continuing teaching."

"Thank you, Best Jeanist." You said, "It means a lot to have a heroes support for us regular folks."

"Hey!"

You jumped back in surprise.

Bakugo yelled looking a you, "Aren't you going to announce the winner?!"

"R-right, sorry about that!" You yelled back and picked up the microphone. "The winner is team Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight!"

Best Jeanist even clapped for him, making him smile wider in victory. The students then surrounded him, Sato ended up being carried and placed on his shoulder for the photo.

"Sorry, we couldn't win." Midoriya apologized.

You spoke walking over to them, "Don't. Everyone put in their effort and I can tell they had fun."

"Miss (last name)!" Suzuki yelled, as he rushed over to hug you.

"You guys did a great job." You wrapped your arm him, smiling softly. "I saw how strong you were pulling, Suzuki."

He shyly smiled, "I-I was able to do it... b-because of Mr. Deku's help. H-he helped me, by encouraging me."

"Thank you for lifting up his spirits. Suzuki tends to be a bit shy sometimes." You said looking at him, "I'm happy he got the chance to be on your team."

"Oh it was nothing." Midoriya smiled with a tilted head. "I'm happy they had fun even though we did not get to win."

"You were amazing!" Suzuki yelled pulling away from you and hugging him instead. "You're an amazing hero, Mr. Deku."

Midoriya's eyes lit up, his hold then tightened as he held Suzuki in his arms.

You decided to walk over to the rest of your students to congratulate them as well.

"Miss (last name)! Did you see me?!" Sato exclaimed. "Did you see how much I was pulling the rope?!"

"I did!" Crouching down in front of her you continued, "You guys did a great job pulling on that rope."

"It was all because I told them how to properly pull." Bakugo spoke with crossed arms in front of his chest.

"He did! Did you know it's best to lean back and plant your feet on the ground?!" She yelled with amazement. "It worked so cool!"

"I did not know that." You looked up at him, "You're quite an impressive hero Mr. Great Murder Explosion God Dynamight."

Bakugo's cheeks turned a light red, "O-of course I am!"

As the events progressed from last rounds of tug of war to the bigger obstacle course between heroes, your mind got distracted.

There was an anxious feeling in your chest, as the sports festival was starting to come to a close. You kept thinking about how your two close friend's would react to knowing the truth about it all.

All you could do was pray and hope that they would stay by your side to support you.

"Everything okay?" Keigo asked as he helped fold up the tables.

"Y-yeah..."

He placed the last table down next to the wall, "(name), I can tell something is on your mind."

"I'm just a bit worried about talking with them is all."

"Hey, everything is going to be fine." Keigo softly, reaching over to your hand to hold it for a second before pulling away. "They're your close friends, they care about you. So I'm sure they'll understand."

You nodded, "You're right... Hizashi and Mio will understand."

Keigo gave you a soft smile and looked both ways before he leaned down and pecked your lips.

"Keigo... s-someome could see us."

"Why do you think I did it quickly?" He teased, making you chuckle.

"Mr. Hawks!" You both looked to the side to see some of your students rushing over to him.

"Hey! What are you kiddos still doing here?"

"You're going to come back and visit right?!" Your youngest Sakura asked.

"Yeah you have to!" Hinata yelled, "You need to come back and see us!"

"Well I certainly hope so." Keigo answered ruffling his hair, "I would love to come back and visit you guys."

"Next time you'll take us somewhere to fly right?" Seiyo asked.

"Guys," you interrupted. "He may have a lot of feathers but he doesn't have enough to take you. He's a hero after all, he's going to them too."

"Awe!" Hinata whined, "Then can you make sure to tell him to come again next week, Miss (last name)?!"

"Yeah, will you ever invite me again Miss (last name)?" Keigo tagged along and even made puppy dog eyes.

He did look quite adorable.

"If it was for me I'd be happy to bring him back again to visit but it isn't up to me." You said, hearing their disappointment sighs. "But I will try and ask the principle."

"Yay!" Your students yelled.

"Now it's time to go home, okay?" You said seeing their parents waiting by the gate. "Your parents are waiting for you guys."

They nodded and bid Keigo goodbye, a smile rested on his face as he watched your students running, enjoying themselves without worry.

"They're an interesting group of kids," he said and turned to look at you. "They're going to go far someday."

"I hope I can continue to lead them down the right path."

"You will, they are lucky to have a teacher like you. I wished I had one exactly like you when I was a kid."

"Well if you ever need a teacher, I'm here." you chuckled lightly.

Keigo pulled you into a tight hug, not caring about anyone seeing you two. All he wanted was to hold you close and you weren't going to deny that a hug from him is what you needed the most.

#― <3 secret world (keigo takami) #keigo takami #keigo takami x reader #bnha hawks #mha hawks #bnha x reader #mha x reader #bnha angst #bnha fluff #bnha masterlist #bnha fanfiction #mha angst #mha fluff #mha fandom #mha fanfiction #mha masterlist #send in asks #send in anons #thank you for reading!

[ourflagmeansgayrights]

yeah my tl;dr opinion on the second billboard is that it’s gonna have very little impact on making us more visible and probably very little direct impact on our chances of getting renewed, but if it makes some ppl feel like they’re doing something then i don’t rlly care bc it’s not my money. that being said, i’m a little worried that the second billboard might end up hurting the general ofmd fandom’s morale more than helping.

elaboration under the cut bc this shit got long

so the ofmd fandom has already caught the attention of the media, we have new articles being written about us pretty frequently. hbo/wbd is also facing a lot of public backlash for their continuous cancellation of tv shows, especially diverse shows, AND they are specifically getting a lot of shit abt refusing to sell coyote v acme. they have a lot of money to gain via tax write-offs from shelving thay movie and refusing to sell, but refusing to sell ofmd isn’t gonna make them that kind of money. so public pressure + financial incentive combined, there’s a pretty good chance of wbd selling ofmd to another studio.

ironing out a deal with netflix/apple tv/amazon+ is gonna take time tho. from a fandom perspective, it’s already been be a very long, very demoralizing waiting game, and personally i would be surprised if we’re even halfway through it.

so there are two things at play when it comes to the fandom giving djenks et al the best chance of securing the best deal for this show: maintaining visibility and maintaining fandom morale. obviously visibility is more directly affecting the negotiations, but morale is important in keeping as many ppl in the fandom active as we can during this gravy basket of a waiting period.

so the question is, how does the second billboard serve those goals? will it maintain or increase our visibility? will it boost fandom morale?

before i get into the second billboard tho, i wanna talk abt the first billboard.

i think we can all agree that the nyt billboard boosted morale: cast and crew were posting about it, djenks shared a selfie in front of it, the energy on ofmdtwt and in discord servers and here on tumblr was very hopeful and excited. it was an emotional high point that i think we’re all kinda missing as the weeks drag on and we approach the two-month mark since the cancellation.

but did the nyt billboard increase or maintain our visibility? more specifically, did it increase or maintain our visibility to a degree that was proportionate to the amount of money spent?

i’ll be honest, i don’t know the answer to that one. i don’t know much about advertising or about tracking ROI for things like billboards and flyover banners. i think, though, that any significant increase in visibility came not from the billboard itself, but from the social media response to the billboard. the excitement of seeing cast and crew talking abt the billboard had us all hyped up and posting/tweeting in our excitement, and that got us trending. the livestream of the billboard probably had an increase in viewership, which i’m sure is something that gets tracked somewhere. and i’m also sure wbd execs were aware of the billboard, and djenks tagging netflix, apple, and amazon means those executives were definitely made aware of it, too

but i’m doubtful abt how much the nyt billboard raised our visibility outside of a few ppl in the streaming/entertainment industry and outside of the ofmd fandom. there were already articles being written about us by that point—did any publications decide to write more articles abt the renewal campaign directly because of the billboard? did the campaign for s3 reach the general public? did site traffic to the petition actually increase? did anyone on the streets of new york or LA actually follow the link/qr code/whatever to learn more about what was being advertised?

on twitter, at least one person who had been supportive of the renewal efforts and who claimed to have relevant industry experience said that the return-on-investment from the billboard/truck/flyover was shockingly small, meaning that for the amount of money that was spent, we should have received more site traffic, more social media buzz, more mainstream awareness than what we got. this is not me saying the ofmd fandom was scammed—the people who donated money were told what the money was going to be used for, and the money was used exactly as promised. but the criticism was that if the goal was to increase our visibility, perhaps the money could’ve been spent differently.

so that’s the nyt billboard: successful at raising morale, unclear exactly how effective it was at increasing visibility. now for the london billboard, located on the vue cinema on leicester square

first, a few things about the site of the london billboard: the ad space being purchased is not, as i have seen claimed, on a hugely iconic billboard and venue. arguably, it is not even located on leicester square. the giant billboard is on a budget movie theater that is right off the corner of leicester square. people have been confusing the vue theater with the odeon theater, which is an iconic landmark in the middle of leicester square where movie premiers happen and where many tourists stop to take pictures. from what i’ve seen (and heard from various uk fans), the foot traffic by the vue theater is not really comparable to the foot traffic at the location of the first billboard.

so, billboard 2 and visibility. the question of if this billboard increases visibility of the campaign, whether that be via successfully advertising to the people walking by or via generating social media buzz.

the thing with the foot traffic issue is i’m honestly not sure how much of a boon the high amount of foot traffic was to the first billboard. bc honestly, how many pedestrians pay attention to billboards enough to actually check out the thing that’s being advertised? probably not very many, hence why there was criticisms that the billboard yielded a low ROI. if there was any increase in our visibility externally (by which i mean, not within studios or within the industry, and not within the fandom and other ppl already aware of the existence of the renewal campaign), it most likely came primarily from articles and social media buzz.

i personally am doubtful that the second billboard is gonna generate the same kind of attention online. the location is less flashy than the first one, david jenkins probably isn’t gonna fly over to london to take a selfie with it, and simply the fact that it’s a second billboard is gonna decrease the energy in how ppl respond to it. like, we already did this in a very famous tourist location. now we’re doing it again, only it’s around the corner from a different, slightly less famous tourist location. the surprise and excitement we saw from the cast and crew will inherently be lessened when we pull the same trick twice. that might also extend to media coverage—how many times do we think journalists are gonna cover the same media stunt pulled by the same general group of people? there is a possibility that the answer to that is only once.

but, to be fair, i did say that visibility was only one part of the equation. the other important thing was morale and keeping the fandom’s energy up, something that is going to get harder and harder the more time passes without us hearing any news.

a second billboard is definitely one way of tackling that issue. fans can meet up at the billboard, post selfies with it, hang out. it’s kind of a cool thing, to see a huge sign on a billboard and know that it was a bunch of passionate fans put it there. and we already know that the first billboard had everyone pumped. more than increasing visibility, maybe this is the primary goal of the second billboard: to hype up the fandom.

i worry, though, that it’s not going to hype up the fandom in the way people are hoping for. like i said, i doubt we’re going to see the same outpouring of excitement from cast and crew that we did the first time around—even already some of the actors have said to the fandom that it’s not worth it for us to spend our money this way. and even within the wider ofmd fandom itself, i would not be surprised if fans just aren’t as excited by this second billboard simply because it’s the second billboard. already, it seems to me like ofmd fans who aren’t directly contributing to the renewal campaign aren’t responding as enthusiastically to this billboard as they did the first one—there’s a question of why it’s necessary, what it’s going to accomplish. so a less encouraging response to this billboard might make a lot of people feel disheartened, disappointed.

and christ, that’s not even mentioning the fact that that almost every time this fandom is trending, there’s a wave of “ofmd fans kys” sentiment that is quick to follow. i have long ago accepted that suicide baiting as a regular part of my internet experience, but most people have not (and frankly, they shouldn’t). a lot of people just will stop posting about ofmd if they get attacked for doing so. if that happens, it is 100% going to negatively impact the renewal campaign and our chances of getting picked up by a different studio.

even if none of this happens, even if the morale is boosted tenfold by the new billboard, i just feel like there are other ways to keep the energy up without crowdfunding ridiculous amounts of money. we already have samba gradually doling out bts content in tiny doses and catapulting us through the roof with each one. i’m also a fan of what AdoptOurCrew is doing on twitter, sharing articles and info and coming up with silly little games to play with their followers. it’s not a huge stunt like a billboard, and it’s not gonna get us on the front page of a huge pop culture publication, but we already have a pretty consistent stream coming in of articles mentioning ofmd and the renewal effort. also, yes, what aoc is doing is not the huge adrenaline high of the nyt billboard, but this is gonna be a marathon, not a sprint. there are a lot of ofmd fans, so if we just keep the general fandom feeling reasonably good abt posting ofmd content, that’s more than enough to keep our online presence consistent enough that studios will know we’re invested in that s3. but if we keep chasing highs we’re gonna burn out fast—at the very least just bc ppl are gonna run out of cash.

that’s what my concern comes down to, really: the money. because to me, the use of actual real-world money should go towards boosting visibility, and boosting morale can come from simply engaging in the fandom, doing fun projects, spreading positivity. and i am very, very doubtful that this second billboard is going to increase the show’s visibility to people who aren’t already aware of ofmd and what’s going on with the renewal. i understand that the idea was to capitalize on s2 airing on the bbc–a good idea, but if the intention is to reach this new audience, shouldn’t the ads should go somewhere they’re going to be more visible, more inescapable? the underground would’ve been a good choice, imo, bc the cell service down there sucks and ppl have no choice but to stare at the walls while they wait for the train. but this might have been less effective at boosting morale, because it’s less flashy and a significantly worse place for fans to meet up. so it’s about what the priority is here: is the money primarily for boosting morale, or boosting visibility?

like i said, i think prioritizing morale-boosting is the wrong choice. and even if that wasn’t the intention, i think that’s the only thing that’s gonna be affected in any way by the billboard. but like, that’s why i didn’t donate to the crowdfunding for this billboard (or to the first one tbh). bc ppl can spend their money however they want, even if i think it’s a waste. currently the average donation to the SaveOFMD ko-fi is abt £34, or $40. i’m not gonna get that worked up over a few hundred strangers online spending $40 for something i think is a waste. ppl spend all sorts of money on stuff i think is a waste. who cares.

if everything backfires and the billboard ends up hurting the renewal campaign then… idk. i hope if it blows up into drama that the drama gets to be funny, at least.

#ofmd #save ofmd #txt #mine #og #ofmd fandom crit

[nekropsii]

Ok so hussie that SUCKS ass so much and he always came off to me from what he showed in his comics as a weirdo in so many ways. But like I never feel like i see this brought up whenever I talk about homestucks more questionable parts and I don't like that very much. U seem to talk about it a lot and I think that's good so I think it would be interesting to hear your honest unfiltered thoughts on the guy and everything that he's done

Ohh, boy. This is a doozy. Yeah, this is something I have a lot to say about… I try not to talk about Hussie too much, since they’re a bit of an upsetting topic, and I just don’t really like discussing real people, but… There comes a point where you literally have to acknowledge the Author when analyzing the Work. Sometimes, Death of the Author isn’t applicable in the way you hope it is, and sometimes, The Curtains Are Blue for a Reason.

That being said… Let’s get into this. I’m gonna be including a few links in this one, so here’s to hoping that it doesn’t break the post, and that it remains visible in tags. It’s an important discussion to have.

Content Warning: In-Depth Discussion of Racism, Mentions of Ableism and Child Predation.

Despite the fact that I prefer to analyze Homestuck from a largely Watsonian perspective, since Hussie isn’t very fun to think about, I cannot, in good faith, ignore it 24/7. In order to really be able to understand certain parts of Homestuck, you need to have some iota of cultural, racial, and sociopolitical awareness. This isn’t me saying “You need a high IQ in order to be able to understand Homestuck,” this is me saying there are certain parts of the story that are caked in stereotypes that a lot of Non-POC, especially Non-Black people, might not pick up on. Same goes for the Able-Bodied.

Hussie has proven themself time and time again to be a raging racist who is really, really weird about kids. Her writing is a double-edged sword- on one hand, Childhood, and the loss of it, is rendered beautifully in Homestuck in ways I haven’t quite been able to find in other media. The fearlessness and shamelessness in allowing the characters the make horrible mistakes and be flawed people as they grow up in harsh circumstances is an incredible thing to witness… But then there’s Hussie’s disturbing infatuation with Vriska Serket, who is a 13 year old girl, and his unabashed hatred for characters like Tavros Nitram, who is physically disabled, as well as Gamzee Makara, who is Black-Coded in a way that’s offensive.

Hussie’s bigotry is transparent. Let me use Gamzee in particular to expand upon this topic, because he’s… A pretty obvious choice when it comes to this discussion.

Gamzee Makara is a Dirty, Drug-Addled, Hedonistic, Unsupervised Mess of a child who has an Absent Father, Horrifically Violent Impulses, and a religious devotion to a Hip Hop/Rap band. While it’s undeniable that, from a Watsonian Perspective, Insane Clown Posse is a legitimate basis for a real, in-universe Cult, it’s also undeniable that- in tandem with the rest of his character- that obsessive devotion to those specific genres does not read well, as they’re historically Black music genres, and Black men are stereotyped as having a particular affinity for it. I’d like to take a moment to acknowledge how Gamzee’s character is largely treated as a joke, with him mostly being portrayed as significantly more stupid, bumbling, and useless than his peers- to the point where it’s a remarked upon thing in the text of the story- and that this, when taking in the context of the racism behind the rest of his character writing… Reads as a Minstrel Show.

This doesn’t even touch on the concept of “Chucklevoodoos” within the comic, which has its name derived from a real world, currently practiced, legitimate African Religion. It’s most often quite offensively boiled down to mysterious, spooky, magical nonsense, and as something that’s simultaneously unknowable (to white people,) all powerful, and primitive /lesser (than Abrahamic Religion.) The presence of “Jujus” as a set of mysterious, extremely powerful objects within the game of SBURB raises some red flags in conjunction with the rest of the things I’ve listed as well- it wouldn’t read nearly as poorly without the previously aforementioned extreme racism, and with said racism in mind, I can’t help but think that it also being associated with the Makaras while also being borrowed, once again, from African Religious Practices, was intentional. Don’t get me started on Kurloz.

(Wikipedia may not be the most detailed source ever, but it serves its purpose to prove that this is an actual thing, and I’m not just talking out of my ass here.)

It’s disheartening, but unsurprising, to see a fandom that seems to pride itself on a sense of Acceptance, Awareness, and Diversity be unable to grapple with the fact that the creator, and the source material they’re working with, is inherently bigoted. Pointing out that the Racism and Ableism in Homestuck exists is not at all something people should shit the bed about, and it’s not a conversation put on the table purely to tell people to stop liking Homestuck; Critical Enjoyment of media does exist, and you can be aware that a piece of work has some deep, deep issues and still enjoy it. I would know- I’m literally an Alpha Troll-centric blog.

Shifting gears here, but Hussie’s ableism is well known- ranging from things as obvious as early Homestuck’s liberal usage of the R-Slur, (though that was quite normalized online during the period in which it was used, and I’d argue that that’s partially a product of its time,) Tavros’s horrible treatment due to his disability being something that was supposed to be viewed as “deserved,” Tavros’s disability as being something that needed to be “cured,” and Terezi’s Pseudo-Blindness, to things as obscure as the way Hussie handled Horuss Zahhak’s canonical Systemhood.

Also, though it’s not in the vein of bigotry, I need to expand upon an earlier point… Hussie’s obsessive, unabashed attraction to Vriska Serket, who is a 13 year old girl, is a significantly more openly discussed topic, I feel, but I’ll go over it still. Andrew Hussie has what is functionally just a Self Insert within the comic, bearing their name and their- at the time- exact image. This Avatar of himself even shares the role of being the Writer of Homestuck, and the line between what is an actual reflection of Real World Hussie and what is just a character is extremely thin, and extremely blurred. That said, a decent portion of people took Hussie’s Avatar as near purely a character- but his attraction to Vriska was a genuine thing. Hussie’s Avatar takes every opportunity he can get to physically stalk Vriska, and sexually harass her. The stark age gap between the two of them is, if I recall correctly, remarked upon in the comic, and Vriska’s disgust and discomfort is seemingly supposed to be a part of the joke.

There’s a lot I could talk about here, but I’m not currently equipped enough time, mental and emotional energy, space, or words to tackle everything cleanly in one post. The start of the web is there, the foundation is built, but I can’t adequately weave it all in a single day. I hope you understand. There’s quite obviously more to be said, about Meenah’s use of AAVE, Damara’s aggressive over-sexualization paired with her speech patterns, the running theme of Child Predation, so on and so forth. A lot of my thoughts on Hussie aren’t kind. They really aren’t a good person, no matter how much any of us wish they were.

#gamzee is like… Hussie found the wiki page for antiblack stereotypes and used it as a checklist #homestuck #homestuck meta #beta trolls #beta kids #alpha trolls #alpha kids #vriska serket #tavros nitram #gamzee makara #andrew hussie #nekro.pdf #nekro.sms

[hisunshiine]

—whims & inconsistencies | 5

→ posted: aug 19 20, 2022

→ pairing: kim seokjin x poc!reader

→ genre/au: victorian era!au, pride&prejudice vibes, fluff, smut, angst

→ chapter rating: +18 / M for Mature

→ wordcount: 2.8k words 

→ chapter warnings:  talks of the attack & wound treating, talks of sick father, argument, angst!! 

→ credits: @hobeemin​ for the most amazing banner idea. @peachiilovesot7​ really doesn’t understand how important she is to me but i love her dearly, best beta ever; @moonleeai​​ @cherrysoulth​, your comments always give me the confidence boost to post! ♡ 

→ an: sorry sorry it’s finally here! i know that this chapter is shorter than usual, but this chapter is important to the story movement. i also forgot to hit post because i was beta reading something LMFAO. If you would like to be on a tag list, please reply to this chapter or send an ask.

series masterlist   map of Sonyeondan

taglist: @firesighgirl @jungshook7 [it doesn’t let me tag you, just post your tumblr link :( ]

Jiwoo is sick of you hiding in your room. A whole day she spent without you, just to see you accept Kim Seokjin into your bed chamber last night! It’s unfair. As your best friend, she’s fed up and bored and wants to know everything.

At first, she was worried about you being sick, but now that she knows you saw Seokjin, Jiwoo shamelessly knocks on your door loudly and repeatedly as she waits for you to open up. You take a deep breath, knowing that you can’t hide forever and that she’s the only one who can help you with your makeup to hide the bruises that haven’t faded. 

Opening the door, you keep your eyes pointed downward as she storms into your room past you, mouth moving a mile a minute as she begins to huff about you hiding out for a whole day.

“I mean, really, YN! I was so bored all day, and here I was thinking you were sick, when in reality, you were—” Jiwoo’s voice comes to a halt as her eyes take in your face. 

“What happened to you?!” Her voice is loud, and you reach out and grab her wrist to tug her to your bed so she can sit and you can explain. 

“Did Seokjin do this to you?” she asks, and you almost laugh at how incredulous the idea is.

“No, Jiwoo, I promise you, Seokjin did not do this to me. He actually saved me.” You gather the hem of your nightgown so you can sit down comfortably on the bed next to her, and she turns towards you, awaiting more information.

“The other night, when I left practice with Namjoon and Yoongi, the youngest Kim brother and his friends cornered me. They were extremely drunk and making advances, which I turned down. I think that it enraged him—Taehyung— because before, when I would turn him down, he always let it go.” You gently touch at your sore face, wincing as you find the edges of the bruise beneath your fingers. “But this time, I think if I hadn’t gotten away, he would’ve hurt me.”

“You have to tell Seokjin! Wait, didn’t you say that he saved you? Does he know what happened? That it was his own brother?”

“No! He doesn’t know and he can’t know.”

Jiwoo visibly turns red as she quakes with anger at your words.

“What do you mean, ‘he can’t know’? Are you crazy? His brother crossed the line! I have half a mind to go down to their house and beat the rascal myself!”

“Jiwoo, think about it. If I tell Seokjin what Taehyung did, he then has to choose between me and his family. He’ll feel guilty because his brother behaved so wretched towards me, and if he does the right thing, which he will want to do, it means that he would have to condemn his own brother and tarnish his family name. In telling people what happened, rumors will spread and people will think me a harlot. Those who want Seokjin will help fan the flames and make my life difficult.” You shake your head, hoping to keep the tears at bay.

“But, YN, it’s not fair…”

“When is it ever fair for women? There is no right way to handle this, because Seokjin is too good of a person to let his brother off the hook for it, but how can he look at me the same, knowing his brother…”

“Did he?” Jiwoo’s voice is small, a slight whisper as she stares at you in fear with wide eyes.

“No, but he kissed me against my will, and he got pretty handsy with me. If he’d had thirty more seconds, I would be having a different conversation with you right now.” You shiver at the memory as you explain to her in detail what occurred that night.

“You are so brave. Being a woman in our society isn’t easy, but you handle everything you’ve been dealt with such grace.” Jiwoo grasps your hands in hers, smiling at you with watery eyes. “I’ll make sure to cover for you. Tell them it's a particularly rough month for your menstrual or something so everyone leaves you alone.”

“I appreciate it greatly, Jiwoo. You are the best ‘almost’ sister I could ask for.”

She hugs you before she stands, offering to get you some soup to eat or ice for your bruises. You accept both, and she disappears off to the kitchen, making a quick pitstop to Hoseok’s room to ask him to buy you a new violin to cheer you up.

The next two days are spent in your room, practicing on the new violin Hoseok got you for dealing with monthly ailments of being a woman. You were pleased to see the deep brown color of the spruce and maple woods that form the instrument, and the ebony chin rest and pegs had glistened from a fresh polish. Upon first inspection, you noticed the joints and seams were sealed nice and tight, and the sound it made the first time the bow glided across the strings had resonated deeply within you. It was perfect.

Once you were able to easily cover the remaining marks that blemished your skin, you went into town to purchase a gift for Seokjin to thank him for your music sheets. You anticipate a proposal to come soon, especially after the past few days that you have had experienced with him. He was the rescuing force that saved you unknowingly from his own brother, the person to tend to your wounds, healing both skin and heart as he held you gently in his hands. Speaking of holding you gently, the heat between the two of you crackled just a few nights ago, so as more days passed and the Jung’s didn’t report that Seokjin had made a formal proposal, you grew worried.

At practice with your two best friends—this time during the day due to your insistence that you prefer to practice earlier so you have time later in the day to do trainings at home with Jiwoo and Mrs. Jung for running a household—you finally work up the courage to ask Namjoon about his brother. 

“Hmm, Seokjin? I mean, no offense, YN, I don’t try to talk to my brother about you.” Namjoon gives you a sheepish grin as he rubs the back of his neck. “I don’t want to hear him talk about you how guys usually talk about the women they want to be with.”

You raise your eyebrows, lowering your violin after giving it a quick tuning. 

“Oh? So you men sit around talking about us women in a scandalous manner? I wish to be a fly on the wall.”

“You really don’t, YN. They’re quite crass.” Yoongi, ever the stoic and blunt one, nods while he sits at the piano with his eyes closed. “I don’t even like to hear how they talk about you lot, and I like women.”

You let out a small laugh, but something nags you about Seokjin being almost non-existent in your life lately. 

“Is that a new violin?” Namjoon pulls you from your thoughts with his question and you glance at the shiny new instrument in your hands.

“Yes! Hoseok and Jiwoo got it for me.”

“That’s very kind of them…was it for a special reason? Your birthday has already passed.” 

“Oh, well if you must know, my woman time was particularly diffic—”

“Actually, why don’t we just practice? I’d love to hear how it sounds.” Namjoon blushes a deep red as he sets up the music sheets for you on the stand of the song he’s been composing, and you laugh at his embarrassment. The change of topic works well to get him off the case of the mysterious new violin, with no follow up questions about your old one, the one that is currently missing.

With practice ending earlier than usual due to the new time you have initiated with your friends, you leave the other two near the Citadel Market where they plan to do some shopping and use the daylight to walk over to the Kim household. You spent a lot of practice thinking about Seokjin, and felt like you were driving yourself crazy wondering where he had disappeared to. 

You know it is against the norm for women to go to their suitor’s household to call on them, but with how busy Seokjin’s life is, what with taking over his ailing father’s role, you decide it’s okay. You quite like the thought of getting to meet his parents and have them approve of you, so as you approach his house, you brush off non-existent lint from your skirts and continue down the path to his residence.

Once you turn the corner to walk into the fenced in yard, you see a sight that sends shivers down your spine. You didn’t think Taehyung would still be home at this time, let alone just leaving for the day. You freeze, watching as he fiddles in the doorway, his back to you as he faces inside the house. Steeling yourself for him to say something lewd to you, you raise your head high and walk towards the front door.

Taehyung turns when he senses your presence, and you watch as he appears to fix his mouth to say something to you. Not wasting a moment, you glare your eyes at him and venomously spit out: “Don’t fucking talk to me.”

Taehyung’s eyes widen, and you see a flash of something across his face before a sneer takes its place.

“With a mouth like that, you’ll never get your violin back.”

Not backing down, you turn to face him fully.

“I didn’t tell anyone about what happened that night. I just want to be left alone.”

Taehyung lowers his eyes at you, matching you glare for glare before storming off down the street. You watch him until he’s out of sight. 

Ringing the large bell at the door, you wait with gift-in-hand until the butler arrives to let you into the receiving room. 

Seokjin takes longer than you expected to come see you, and the tea that was served is almost cold by the time he comes in. You instantly notice that his gaze is guarded, a wary look crossing his face once he seats himself across from you on the small settee. 

“I was wondering when you would grace me with your handsome face,” you joke, hoping to ease the tension, but it doesn’t help. You fidget with the gift bag about to speak again to give it to him, but he speaks first.

“Good afternoon, Ms. LN. To what do I owe this visit?”

“Are we being watched or something?” you ask lowly. “Why are you being so formal with me?”

“No, we have the utmost privacy.”

“Okay…Seokjin, is everything okay?” You set the gift bag down, giving him your full attention. You can feel it in your gut that something has happened; the air between you has changed, and not in a good way, so you can’t help with how direct you come across seeking clarity for the benefit of your sanity. “I haven’t heard from you since you came by the house several days ago, and to be honest, I quite expected a formal proposal to be given—”

“I’ve been busy, YN. Quite a lot has been going on in my life the past few weeks, as I’m sure you’re aware.”

You know he’s talking about the role he’s taken on for his father falling sick, but his tone makes you feel like he’s accusing you of not being understanding. 

“I know that, you know I understand and I’m here to support you. I just don’t understand why it feels like you’re pulling away or changing your mind—”

“Were you with another man the night you were attacked by those wolves?”

His question stuns you silent. He leans back on the upholstered sofa, crossing one leg over the other and clasping his long fingers atop his knee, watching you.

“I was walking home alone, Seokjin. What is the meaning of this line of questioning?”

“Before you walked home, YN. Were you alone?”

“I—”

“Or were you with another man?”

“How do you know what I was doing beforehand?”

“So you finally admit that you were with another man. I had hoped my brother was wrong, but it seems even in the dark, what he saw was right.”

“Your brother? Why would Namjoon say anything untoward happened that night?” You are thoroughly confused about what Seokjin is accusing you of. You had been with Namjoon and Yoongi that night practicing before you had stupidly decided to walk home alone instead of having one of them escort you, and you’re clueless to know what reason Namjoon would have to allude to anything less than innocent between you and the two of them.

“Not Namjoon. Taehyung. He saw you, gallivanting like a harlot with another man at night…is that who attacked you?”

You freeze in your seat, heart beating rapidly before slowly standing, shaking with anger as you try to keep your voice from raising and alerting people to the bomb that is about to explode from inside of you. Your quick movement rattles the tea and the gift bag on the low table.

“How dare you. How dare you! The fact that you could believe that drunkard! Taehyung is lying to you!”

Seokjin maintains his stoic face as he watches you grow angry, a little surprised by your reaction, but the words he heard from Taehyung still linger in his thoughts.

“What reason would Taehyung have for lying to me about you?”

Your hands ball up into fists as you throw all caution to the wind, your voice dangerously still.

“Taehyung has several reasons to lie to you, Kim Seokjin. The first being to protect himself, and the second being to protect your precious family name. You want to know what really happened that night?” You can feel the anger causing your eyes to water and your voice is starting to break, but you can’t stop now.

“I was practicing with Namjoon and Yoongi that night. You can ask Namjoon. We lost track of time and he rushed home, leaving me and Yoongi to lock up. Yoongi asked me if I wanted him to walk me home, and I said no, because I didn’t think anything would happen to me on the short walk home.” 

You take a deep breath, pacing around the low table separating you from Seokjin.

“Unfortunately for me, I ran into three men halfway home. Your precious brother Tae, and his two friends. It was them who attacked me, and Tae who left those marks and bruises on my face and body that you tended to.” You no longer care about being loud, your thoughts circling back to that fateful night as you practically sneer out his brother’s name in disdain. “I lost my violin that night fighting them off, almost lost more than that thanks to your brother! And instead of telling you the truth, I lied and said I was attacked by wolves, because I thought telling you your brother was the one who did this would be something that would tear us apart!” You let out a choked sob, unable to hold back the tears of frustration as you relive the fear of that night.

Seokjin reaches out toward you, his stoic front cracking once he sees the raw emotions pouring out of you. “Please, YN, take a deep breath for me, okay?”

You step away from his reach, not finished with what you have to say. “But it looks like it happened anyways, not because of your brother, but because despite how I’ve opened up to you, you decided that I must be the type of woman to do so with anyone.”

You stumble towards the door with trembling hands and shaky breaths, unable to even look at Seokjin with how furious, no—betrayed—you feel.

“I’ll see myself out. Please thank your waitstaff for the tea.”

Seokjin sits there in the aftermath of your departure, trying to wrap his head around everything that transpired in the previous five minutes. He thinks back through what you’ve said, reminds himself of the wounds he treated on both you and his brother, realizing how Taehyung’s wounds mirrored your own, and he’s horrified that everything you said might be right.

He regrets everything he’s said to you, but by the time he’s processed your words and is stalking towards his younger brother’s bedroom, you’re long gone.

It’s not until you’ve returned to the Jung’s residence and curled up on your bed to cry that you remember you’ve left the gift bag on the table, with a fancy pocket watch that when opened has a picture of you opposite the clock with a perfumed love note inside baring your soul, letting Seokjin know you feel safe with him and asking him to never break your heart.

series masterlist —thank you for reading! feedback is greatly appreciated!! please let me know what you think of this story!

© hisunshiine 2022. All rights reserved.

#jin x reader #jin angst #seokjin angst #seokjin x reader #bangtaninn #bangtanbathhouse #clubzerooclock #ksmutclub #bangtanwhq #bts imagines #bts #bts reactions #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #bts scenarios #bts x reader #bts smut #bts au #bts angst #bts fluff #hisunshiine writings #jin smut #jin fluff #jin au #jin writings #jin fic #jin fanfiction

[ryndicate]

꘏ General ꘏

About

This blog (mainly) creates and also interacts with dark content. I place warnings for all my content, so proceed at your own risk.

we are very very multifandom here. i hyperfixate a lot, and my adhd is sitting proudly at the wheel. whatever character my brain chooses for the day is usually how it goes. characters I write for are linked in my masterlist even if I haven't put anything out for them yet. I add as I go

I’ll be real and say that I frequently dip away from tumblr for a couple days rather often; I have a low social battery that drains even when I’m shitposting to no one in particular. But I love to chat so don’t hesitate to send an ask, I’ll get back to them next time I’m online :)

DNI’s 

My content is not suited nor intended for minors. 18 and up please and thank you. If you don’t have an age marked somewhere visible I will block. “18+” “adult” “legal” etc are not acceptable and will result in a block.

Blank blogs annoy the piss out of me but I'm too lazy to block them all so just have an age listed okay.

do not interact with my content (reblogs especially) if your own blog rules are not 18+. If i see 17+ or similiar, that makes me uncomfortable.

no dc anti’s (if you know how to scroll past, this doesn't include you) hate will be ignored. if you don’t like my content, the stuff i reblog, or the things i say, just block me or unfollow. 

if you ask for part 2s. it’s a rude thing to do in general. 

Rules and Asks

I typically answer all my asks, I don't ignore people so if I'm taking awhile to respond it's either because i havent seen it or I'm thinking on a response. However, if I think an ask is worded in a way that would make others or myself uncomfortable, check my return to sender tag. I'll probably have made a post with a response without directly posting the ask itself.

I do need a listed age to feel comfortable responding! Please no trauma dumping. And I'm awful at writing comfort so pls no "what would Chara do" h/c situation asks 🥲 I'm bad at them. Awful. The result of my attempt would somehow make your day worse. For your own mental health just pls do not lol.

I'm down with being called bb/babes,girl by just about anyone. But bitch/bestie/love are reserved for mutuals and discord friends, those are very important terms of endearment for me and it feels off getting them from people I don't know.

If you send me compliments about my writing we’re valentines. this isn’t even my own rule, this is cosmic law. 

Writing Info

I write every day, but I write and post at my own pace, the pace my irl life allows. If something is listed in my wips, I’m working on it so please don’t demand content from me.

The stuff I write is usually explicit, and even when it’s not has mature, dark, or unsettling natures to it. Not every fic will include these topics but beware they may contain incest, a/b/o, monsterfucking, horror, yandere etc. Here’s a little link to give you an idea on more, listing them can get tedious so i keep it separate and update it as I go.

I don’t do requests (commissions aside) but if you want to tell me your thoughts on a character, or maybe put them in a messy little situation, it might spark something in my mind and a little something might come of it, you never know ;3

what do i not write... hm. scat. vore. the Obvious. Other than that this is a really tough Q bc my mood switches up a lot. Sometimes I go on a single trope spree, other days I will write criminal level fluff in one hour and shiver inducing dark alley shit in the next. I have so much range, please expect me to use it.

#Also we're automatically on good terms if you read and like this post. #Like smooches and cuddles and whatever you want that shows my affection

[tavyliasin]

Boundaries and Parasocial Relationships (I will only say this once)

This is the ONLY post I will be making on the matter, so please feel free to skip if you do not want to hear it again, and don't worry you don't need to hide me to avoid discourse - the rest of my content will remain firmly with only SMUTFIC FAN FUN.

So let's start with the simple. Actors, performers, celebrities: They are PEOPLE with LIVES. They are not CHARACTERS. Paying them for a service does not include the right to cross their boundaries. Just like tipping someone working food service does not give you a pass to harrass them either.

If you feel the need to request something smutty from an actor/celebrity, STOP. THINK. THIS IS WHAT FAN CREATORS ARE HERE FOR!

I'm not saying that you can act inappropriately towards fan creators, I'm saying that those of us making NSFW content are already prepared to hear the horny requests, the thirst comments towards the characters on our posts, the headcanons and self inserts and all of that. Of course you should never expect a creator to make your ideas into fic or art, and asking politely is always preferred. Whilst fic writers generally cannot take paid commissions, artists can and do, so you should also consider commissioning what you want to see and never expect art for free. Sometimes we hear a good idea, though, and get really inspired! We draw or write it because we hear it and thing "well yes darling actually that's very hot" or even "that sounds like a challenge, it could be fun!"

For anyone still confused about what is appropriate or not, please read this article about Parasocial Relationships

It is important to recognise for your own mental health when fandom is going too far, and to keep the right boundaries for everyone. It is very easy to get carried away with excitement, especially when some performers might share a few risqué pieces of art or content, but when they're sharing it like that it is on their terms, on their time. Making requests during a live stream or through cameo is not the same. I'd also add to think before sharing any NSFW art, fic, or other creations directly to performers - if they haven't asked for it don't send it. Don't tag them in it, either - they have families, careers, and may not want to be as visibly linked to literal porn. If they're looking for that content and want to see it, they will find it. That also applies to sharing other peoples' NSFW creations to the performers or tagging them in replies - unless they specifically state they want to see the content, don't.

FINAL NOTE

This fan community has so much potential. We have proven we can be awarded "Community of the Year". We can love and support one another, we can keep each other safe, we can be a rock in the storm and the cheerleading squad that each other need in so many situations. Let's keep it that way. Be kind, to each other and to the performers. Remember, the words on the screen are not written by unfeeling robots, we are all very real people with thoughts and emotions and lives. Now go out there. Make the world a brighter place, and keep creating the fan content we all love so very dearly, darlings, but do it right.

SAFE, SANE, CONSENTING. Check in on the safety, mental health, and boundaries in all of your interactions.

And one last time, to learn more about parasocial relationships and how to handle interactions with famous people:

Click Here for the full article.

#baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #fan community #fandom #cameo #celebrities #actors #performers #voice actors #parasocial relationships #kindness first #respect boundaries #it's not that hard #safe sane consensual #performers are not characters #we are all better than this #I believe in us as a community we can hold each other accountable #alright then back to your irregularly scheduled smut content from me #because I will not say this again #this space is for the fun and the sexy #maybe a little fluff and angst as a treat #but only if you're good #so BEHAVE

[hotshotshitshow]

im not trying to be mean forreal but you arent gonna have people rbing your stuff if you don't tag it! 2 give an example your most recent piece has 7 tags total, two of which are personal tags that no ones gonna search so lets say 5. in addition to the ones you included which werent bad you should also include stuff like the medium (ex: #traditional art) and of course #artists on tumblr. tagging aesthetics that fit also goes a long way. plus a (no guilt) caption requesting that people boost your work. something important to keep in mind with tumblr is that its really good for circulating art LONG term rather than most social media platforms which prioritize feeding the neverending ratrace for whatevers trending. I am in no way a big name artist but my most circulated posts come from people tag searching and queueing. obvs theres usually gonna be the most attention over the first few days but also give it time! don't be afraid to repost or find niches who will circulate your stuff. post art and then link it in oc discords, too this isnt meant to admonish you btw more it makes me sad to see you get discouraged. you have a unique and compelling artstyle with genuinely swagful characters so the idea of you peacing out saddens my heart. i hope this helps, cya

Hey first off. I genuinely appreciate this, I am ngl I knew I shouldn't have posted that last night cuz I knew I'd be embarrassed about it later and well!! Here I am, feeling like a damn fool!! Sincerely tho, your words do mean a lot.

However, the one thing that trips me up is that back when I did use Tumblr more regularly, like several years ago, they had made it so that only the first five tags on a post were searchable, and everything else wasn't visible in tag searches. Has this changed? It's been a long time and I have no idea what's changed with Tumblr in the past few years but I've just been operating on the assumption that only the first five tags "count." Also I am just ... Not good at knowing what to tag things other than in the most straightforward way possible 😬

I definitely absolutely get discouraged way way way too quickly and I acknowledge that, it comes from years of a building frustration of posting on social media and never feeling like it goes anywhere while also watching those around me grow their followings. It's come to a point where it feels like if something I post "fails" then it tanks my mood on a hair trigger. And it's not healthy!!! This is largely why I've stopped posting publicly anywhere. Bc the reaction I've built up is so instantaneous and intense that it's completely unhealthy for me. Sorry to vent at you!! It's all just sort of coming out. I've absolutely poisoned the way I view interaction on social media for myself and it feels very entrenched and I don't really know what to do about it.

I want to share my art with people and I want them to like my art and asking for reblogs directly on art posts is something that always felt gross to me but idk maybe that's what I gotta do. I have this notion in my mind tho that if my art is good and people like it, they'll reblog it because they want to, not because I asked them to. It doesn't feel like people are sharing my art bc they genuinely like it if they're doing it bc I asked them to. And then people don't reblog my art, so it gets interpreted as "well, I guess nobody thinks my art is very good, otherwise they'd want to share it!"

This all feels very immature of me and I hate that this is how I feel. I definitely am very deeply in the mindset now of "well, nobody appreciated my art much when I did post it, so now nobody gets to see it anymore." Idk how to grow past this tbh. I am absolutely only shooting myself in the foot. Oh well whatever!!!

Anyway. Thank you again for this, and also if you did actually read this, thank you for your time and energy. I don't think you were being mean at all, you said what is true, I think. I hope you have a lovely day.

[foodbytesback]

The Great New York State Fair- Drive-thru Style

It shouldn’t come to a surprise that the Great New York State Fair has been cancelled this year.  Cmon, people, there’s a pandemic out there, there’s no way they could’ve gotten away with not closing it.  But a lot of people have been saying “it just doesn’t feel like the end of summer without the Fair,” which leaves me asking, “Damn, y’all actually had things left to look forward to?”  

Soul-crushing memes aside, there’s still a way for those who apparently still have some sense of time (or at least in terms of things like “seasons”) to still get their Fair fix.

“Orange Lot Madness,” named for the parking lot it’s being held in, is a fairgrounds-adjacent collection of vendors trying to make up for the fact that their biggest source of income has shut down for the first time since 1948, and has apparently been running every weekend from the start of August (oops, I’m 3 weeks late on this) until Labor Day weekend.   

The event was originally organized by Villa Pizze Fritte, a fried dough stand, they have since been joined by Big Kahuna (home of my beloved caramel crack fries), Ashley Lynn Winery (one of many wine slushy stands), and Carnival Eats (which as far as I can gleam from their god-awful website makes… generic carnival food).  The “drive-thru” aspect comes in as cars line up at their vendor of choice, where PPE-clad employees take your order from your window and deliver the food to you when it’s ready.  And since most carnival games and attractions would require levels of constant sanitation that just… don’t happen at fairs, they have decided to provide additional entertainment in the form of drive-in movies.

On the other hand, for those who feel that trying to navigate the fairgrounds’ parking lots is the worst part of the Fair Experience™, syracuse.com has also put together a guide for how to host your own Fair.  Most of it is honestly kinda hokey, like “charge your friends 25 cents for cups of chocolate milk,” “ring toss game with empty beer bottles and shower curtain rings,” and “host a butter sculpting competition, with a grand prize of all those quarters you got from your milk racketeering.”  They also suggest making some fair food at home, but also have the audacity to suggest “baked potato” and “corn on the cob” are fair staples? For those with higher culinary ambitions, they’ve also published recipes for true fair staples like wine slushies, pizze frittes, and “Hot Beef Sundae.” (Man, I need to stop putting sarcastic quotation marks on everything.) But, just like the Fair itself, it may be hokey at times, but the important thing is being able to have a good laugh at it all with your friends.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m gonna grab my blender and do some day drinking. 

#click through to see the phrase 'milk racketeering' #food #fair food #carnival food #fried food #wine slushies #New York State Fair #also i feel like the links here are more important that visibility in those tags so shadowban be damned

[luckycheesefoodie321]

28/3/21 (don’t give a shit how long this is, imma use this stupid amount of attention my rant got properly)

Now maybe it’s tokenistic,.. maybe tumblr doesn’t have as much media presence as Twitter or Instagram..

But where fucking else on the internet or on major social media platforms do you have Black Lives Matter be pinned as number 1 on trending for the past 9-10 fucking months??

And now I believe they’ve done the same for Stop Asian Hate?

Some people may say it’s an empty gesture but if you’re wanting information or resources or just wanna keep up to date with what progress (or lack thereof) has been made, in either mission, then it’s right. Fucking. There.

And those all lives matter, racist, bigoted motherfuckers out there that are trying to suggest that only one of the movements can exist at a time or are in any way in competition with each other and therefore cannot support each other, you are gonna have to shut your fucking mouth and get the fuck away from my blog because you don’t deserve to be here unless you manage to pull your head outta your ass, educate yourself and do the right thing.

Black Lives Matter and Stop Asian Hate are fighting their specific fights. There is no denying that. But their message is the same.

We deserve to live without persecution or fear because of our skin and/or where we come from.

As someone who is AAPI, but not living in America, just wanna make it clear.

This right here is fucking history, and I’m hoping y’all are staying safe.

———

Alright if y’all gonna boost visibility on what is essentially an angry rant about some nonsense I saw, then best step up and follow up:

LINKS (third time doing this on my phone I don’t care that it doesn’t look pretty: original posters @o-robin and @gublertoon

https://o-robin.tumblr.com/post/646028048856203264/ok-so-this-has-been-bothering-me-for-like-the

And

https://gublertoon.tumblr.com/post/645886170069336064/hello-just-a-lil-smth-please-dont-scroll-tw

These are their links and ideas I’m just putting it forward and y’all better do too)

https://stopaapihate.org

https://anti-asianviolenceresources.carrd.co/

https://stopasianhate.carrd.co/

Donate and share:

https://mobile.twitter.com/__moonjar/status/1372053427426050048?s=21

More info:

https://href.li/?https://twitter.com/inniesangels/status/1372063506850140160?s=21

https://href.li/?https://www.gofundme.com/c/act/stop-aapi-hate

Asian American Resource centre:

https://href.li/?https://www.aarcatl.org

News resource on anti-AAPI crimes:

https://href.li/?https://www.nbcnews.com/news/asian-america/there-were-3-800-anti-asian-racist-incidents-mostly-against-n1261257

Graphics:

https://href.li/?https://twitter.com/frogvk/status/1372062008070172682

More resources:

https://anthonyymackie.tumblr.com/post/645929911322918912/graphic-created-by-kimsaira-and-anniewu22

A comparison of BLM and Stop Asian Hate, something I mentioned in passing but a very important discussion to have - you can support both, but they are different battles to fight, and we cannot be diminishing the importance of either, especially to the people experiencing those specific struggles, even if we have shared feelings on the treatment:

https://incorrectzutaraquotes.tumblr.com/post/643840466835636224/stop-aapi-hate

Google doc with more resources:

https://href.li/?https://docs.google.com/document/d/1CGLrII9ycdPPcavGkatzGpoqGsdwJm46AgDXVWla3H8/mobilebasic

—————

Since I’m also trending on the BLM tag (sorry to take up space there, and remove attention from more relevant voices than mine and specifically the voices of Black individuals):

LINKS

Black Voter suppression + organisations to support

An important message on BLM and the fight against the persecution of black people in America

A post on Breonna Taylor and how her murderers have still not been punished accordingly, a year after her death

A fair point about performative activism, which is something I hope I am not guilty of doing (even as a POC) but probably am:

Article on how BLM and SAH are fighting on the same field (albeit a different battle)

A donation master post for BLM organisations, black owned businesses etc. it’s a bit older so maybe not all the links are active but I figure it’s still just as relevant

Ways to help the BLM movement:

#tumblr history #world history #black lives matter #stop asian hate #tumblr trending #28/3/21 #aapi #Asian and Pacific Islanders #swearing tw #swearing cw #racism tw #long post #links #resources

[attllhak]

Flora’s Musings

So, here’s the WingAU fic I mentioned. It’s the first one I wrote and features the fun trope of “The Unreliable Narrator That Is History”, which I had a lot of fun with.

I, don’t have a tag list for this AU at this point. So, this part is just my preamble I guess. So, preamble over, here’s the fic.

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

Zelda ran her fingertips between her shoulder blades. She tried not to think about what wasn’t there.

Her wings would come in, she hoped, no she knew they would. They had to. As the princess fated to stop Calamity Ganon it was her duty to unlock her sealing powers, face him, and earn her wings.

It was why she was down here now, in the hidden and secret library they’d excavated. No one cared about this area of the castle, but Zelda loved it there. It was so full of knowledge, and there were records about the Queens and Princesses of the past, ones who had wings themselves.

It was certainly a good excuse to hide down there and do research.

There weren’t many documents on the founders of Hyrule, but she’d translated a few of the ancient texts and had learned much. Apparently her powers came from the fact she was descended from Hylia herself! There were exactly three paintings of her down there, and all of them were old and weathered. Two, one of her alone and one next to her husband, the first King of Hyrule, who was holding the Master Sword, his own wings giving him away as the first of Link’s incarnations, were so old almost all of the colour was gone. The last one, however, had been tucked into a book and, protected from the elements, retained some of its colour.

The goddess reborn had gold wings, bright and shining and as beautiful as everyone expected them to be. Her Hero, however, had red wings, a bright crimson with soft gold flight feathers. What was more, this painting seemed to depict them in their downtime, the goddess still dressed up and all, but leaning over the edge of her throne. Her Hero sat on the dias and leaned against the throne, and was messing with something in his hands that the goddess seemed to be watching, though age obscured what it was. It was entirely unprofessional and sweet, and it made Zelda happy. It made them seem less like untouchable figures of pure good and more like real people. She liked that they were people too.

There was only one picture of the next Queen, and it was so old and weathered that Zelda was scared to touch it lest it crumble into dust. This queen had smaller wings, though Zelda couldn’t tell what colour they were supposed to be. Her Hero was there too, and he had four wings, and Zelda couldn’t be sure but it almost seemed like each wing was a different colour. She couldn’t find any other record of these two, and so she’d taken a picture of the image on the Sheikah Slate to preserve it. This painting was important.

One of the Queens came from the point in history called the Split, a strange period of several thousand years where very different events happened at the same time. They had, through the records in the castle libraries and the temples across Hyrule, figured out this Queen had lived three different recorded lives. Regardless, she always looked the same, or similar at least, in all of her lives. She was a warrior, and her wings, indigo and white and flecked with gold, were always held in a way that showed pride.

Her Hero wasn’t always with her, in two of her lifetimes she ruled alone. In one of them, her Hero had died trying to fight Ganon, and was buried with wings wrapped about him, as was traditional for Heroes and their Queens. The Queen had been Princess then, the books say, and was only 17. I made Zelda uneasy, Link had turned 17 just a few months ago, and her 17th birthday was fast approaching. To think the Hero of Time could die at 17 made her worried for her own Hero. The next of the two he just, wasn’t there. There was no record of the Hero after he defeated Ganon, he just vanished without a trace. Zelda still wanted to know why. The last life gave the most information on the Hero, but he wasn’t listed as a Hero at all. There was no fight in this life, just peace and a failed arrest. As far as historians could tell, this was the most accurate life of hers, but Zelda wasn’t so sure. After all, she and the head of her Royal Guard both had wings. Something had to have happened. These were the only records of the Hero of Time where his wings were visible. A beautiful metallic copper, with darker bronze flight feathers. He seemed to keep them close to his body, like he didn’t want anyone to pay attention to him or them. He apparently married a farm girl in this life.

There were different heirs in each of these lives. For the first life the Queen was a fighter, one with all kinds of magic at her fingertips. Her wings were pink and red, and when she spread them a little bit of gold could be seen at the base of them. This was a Queen who never shied away from the many, many issues her people faced. And many issues there were, records argued whether the number of quests her Hero went on was five or six or twelve. He seemed grumpy in every painting, but after seven-ish quests Zelda would be too. His wings were pink, a million different shades at once. He also seemed to prefer long tunics or dresses to pants. Apparently he didn’t like pants.

After them came a pair of Queens. Zelda initially thought they were cousins, but apparently one was the other’s ancestor, as bizarre as that was. Only one of the two had wings, a soft amber or honey colour, a safe, warm brown. The Princess didn’t have wings, but was no less important if the records and paintings were to be believed. Their Hero didn’t look like much, but his wings, a deep, dark green with earthy brown flight feathers, told of his heroics enough that his looks didn’t have to. Records said he married the Princess, but they never had children, instead helping the Queen raise her bastard twins as a group. Zelda wondered if perhaps the three had all been together, so to speak, and the twins were actually his.

In the second life, there was only one heir, a woman who was named ‘Tetra’ and not Zelda. Her wings were blue, with red separating the blue from gold flight feathers. It was a beautiful colour. Her Hero was usually pictured at her side, his silver tipped sea foam green feathers shining next to her. Those two were always painted outside, and usually on a boat of some kind.

Following the timeline that was decided to be ‘true’, the Queen following the Queen of Three Lives was her great-granddaughter. Her wings, sleek and graceful, were solid black save for the lowest layer of feathers, which was a soft golden-orange colour. Her Hero was hardly ever at her side, history said he spent most of his time in his home village or on assignments for the Queen. Zelda didn’t know if they didn’t get along, or if he hated the city and castle, or why it was that he was never around his Queen, but there was only one painting of him next to her. His wings were big, wide and strong, a range of soft oranges with a rare black feather scattered across them. He also wore a strange charm on a rope around his neck, but no one seemed to know what it was.

The only other Queen, save for the one from 10 000 years ago, was one with a story so outlandish that historians debated on whether or not she was real. She always held a sword or bow in hand, and her wings were either spread for flight or held in close for combat. They were gold, with white flight feathers that seemed to go indigo at the base of each feather. Black flecked the gold, making it obvious she was a fighter. Her Hero was always with her, his wings out behind him, flared up in a show of pride or confidence, a rallying cry for his troops. They fought in a war, so the records claimed. His wings were gold, shiny silver spots scattered over his wings, not dissimilar to the stars in the sky, that made his wings look like they glittered. He was beautiful, as was his Queen, and it was clear that the two were very close.

There weren’t any records on the wings of the Queen 10 000 years ago, nor her Hero, and Zelda didn’t know why that was. Perhaps those records were lost when the Sheikah split. It was unlikely she would ever know.

Zelda didn’t know when her wings would come in, and some days she feared they never would. It was a comfort at least that Link’s wings hadn’t come in yet either.

He found her a few hours later, bringing her a blanket and some food. He sat with her and politely signed a request for her to read to him. They read all through the night, and Impa found them the next morning, Zelda leaned over the desk with her head on her arms and Link leaning on the side of her desk, head tilted back and drooling. She left them there.

When the Calamity hit and she didn’t get her wings she felt like such a failure, especially since Link’s wings had just broken skin a few moments ago, greyish brown wings that were still all fluff coming through the slits in his tunic designed to accommodate them.

She sat next to him in the Shrine of Resurrection, just before they sealed it. His wings were still small, they had never had the chance to come in fully before he fell. She reached over and brushed hair from his face, watching his relaxed features and ignoring the burns on the rest of his body.

“Don’t worry, Link,” she whispered. “I’ll make sure they’re all safe until you wake up,”

She marched on the castle then, staring down the Calamity and ready to give everything she had to keep him at bay.

She reached forward, holding her hand out to the monster and ready to fight. She could feel the triforce on her hand burn in response, her body spilling a radiant golden light. The monster dove for her, and she held her ground, eyes open and ready to stand and fight.

A push on her shoulders, then the pressure bursting and wings spread out behind her.

Blue and white feathers sat on the ground where she was moments before.

(---)

Link stepped into the castle, tiny wings fluffed up in anxiety and nerves making them quiver. He paused as he moved towards the heart, lifting one foot.

Under his boot, was a pair of blue and white feathers, perfectly preserved from when they fell there 100 years before.

#linked universe #lu #lu wild #lu flora #wing au #so as i said in the tags for my last fic in this series #these were meant/were written to be general loz too #so i'll add those tags #but after the first five #because tumblr only cares about the first five #so #breath of the wild #legend of zelda #tada. there we go #there is a second part of this #with wild running around and doing his thing #might post that at some point #but here's this one #i have no idea if people even care about this au of mine #but i do #so here it is

[lulu-zodiac]

Hidden in Plain Sight

Pairing: Dean Winchester/Jeremy Bradshaw

Tags: Early seasons Dean, pre-podcast Professor Bradshaw, denial, unresolved sexual tension, bickering, smut, gratuitous owl references, case fic

Summary: It's the fall of 2006, and a string of grisly deaths linked to local lore brings Sam and Dean to the village of Bridgewater. There, Dean finds himself working closely with the frustrating and unexpectedly compelling Professor Bradshaw.

---

Dean feels about as comfortable in old colleges as he does in churches. There’s the same sense of exclusivity, that same reverence of things Dean has spent his life stuck on wrong side of. This campus even feels a little like a church, with its old architecture and sprawling ruby ivy and slit windows like narrowed eyes. His footfalls echo heavily along the cold stone corridor, making him feel uncomfortably aware of his own existence.

The door he’s looking for is old and made of oak, nestled in an alcove near the staircase, with a small plaque on it that reads Professor J Bradshaw.

Dean pauses for a moment, then knocks abruptly, suddenly noticing his knuckles are still smudged with earth. From within, a muffled voice instructs him to enter, and he does so, wiping his hand surreptitiously against the side of his leather jacket.

The first thing that hits him is the sheer volume of books in the room; they clutter every available surface, piled high in front of the big bay window like a strange line of defense. There are stacks of loose papers everywhere too, haphazard but clearly organized, some held in place by empty coffee mugs or odd-looking artefacts. The air is bright and warm, like this room catches the sun when it’s slow and mellow in the afternoons.

The second thing that hits him is the man sitting at the desk.

He doesn’t look up at Dean’s entrance, continuing to scribble away in a leather-bound notebook with intent dexterity, seemingly utterly lost in his own thoughts. He’s not what Dean expected; surprisingly young, maybe approaching forty, with a sharp jaw and tousled hair that just brushes his broad shoulders. When Dean clears his throat awkwardly, the man finally looks up with striking blue eyes that immediately pin Dean in place.

“Yes?” his voice is inquiring and several octaves deeper than Dean would have imagined, low and gravelly. He sets down his pen, looking at Dean with piercing focus.

“Uh – hey. Professor Bradshaw?” Dean feels distinctly self-conscious.

“Who wants to know?” the man closes his notebook with a snap and stands with surprisingly fluid ease, eyes still intent on Dean as though he’s cataloguing him.

He’s wearing a faded navy-blue sweater with the sleeves rolled up, slightly crumpled shirt tails poking out at the hem, just visible.

Drawing on years of sizing people up, Dean guesses that the guy probably has no one to go home to at night. If he goes home much at all, that is; the office has a distinctly lived-in look. It’s strangely reminiscent of the makeshift home feel of the impala’s interior.

“Um – Dean. Dean Collins,” Dean answers hastily, suddenly realizing he’s spent a little too long looking. “I’m uh – a student in one of your classes,” he lies the best way he knows how: with a charming smile. “I was wondering if you’ve got a moment? I was hoping to ask you a couple of questions about your work.”

“Come in, please,” Professor Bradshaw sits back down behind his desk, and gestures for Dean to close the door. “Take a seat.”

“Thanks,” Dean shuts the door and awkwardly removes three hardback books and a small, slightly drooping fern from the only available seat in front of Professor Bradshaw’s desk.

“Sorry – let me –” Professor Bradshaw leans over the desk to relieve Dean of the books and the plant. Close up, Dean can see faint lines softening the corners of his vivid eyes, and when he breathes in, he catches a hint of peppermint and the musk of warm skin, strangely compelling. Their hands brush for a moment as Professor Bradshaw takes the items, and Dean flinches, jerking away and planting himself firmly on the chair.

“So – Dean, yes?” Professor Bradshaw settles back into his seat. He’s still looking intently at Dean, gaze startlingly blue.

Wordlessly, Dean nods. He doesn’t know why he can feel the heat creeping up his cheeks.

“You’re not in any of my classes, Dean,” Professor Bradshaw says, with a slight edge to his voice. He reaches for a half-drunk mug of tea on his desk, expression skeptical.

Dean feels his stomach drop. “Uh, yeah – I’m new, just transferred a couple weeks back,” he bluffs quickly, but it sounds weak even to his own ears. He feels strangely flustered, visible.

“No, I don’t think so,” Professor Bradshaw says, flatly. “I believe I would have noticed,” he adds, wryly, with a kind of impatient warmth in his expression that makes Dean’s cheeks flare with heat all over again. Professor Bradshaw merely swallows a mouthful of tea and sets the mug back down, still looking at Dean. “So. Who are you?”

“Alright,” Dean puts his hands up in mock-surrender, smiling wide even though he feels stupidly on edge, knocked off course. “You got me. I’m – uh – a journalist. My boss has me writing a piece on local legends, and I was hoping to pick your brains. Heard you’re the expert on all that stuff around here, and thought I might be in with a better chance of talking to you as a student instead of some annoying reporter.”

“I see,” Professor Bradshaw leans back in his chair, contemplative. A shaft of sunlight filters through the bay window behind him, illuminating a hint of tawny in his dark, untidy hair. Dust motes hang everywhere like suspended snow. “Well, luckily for you, Dean, I find that my students can be just as annoying as reporters. And I still talk to them on a daily basis.”

Dean grins a little awkwardly, “Yeah?”

“Of course, I do get paid to do that,” Professor Bradshaw adds, dryly. “But perhaps I do them a disservice. Some of them are really quite inspiring.” He pauses, raising his mug to his lips. It has an owl on it, Dean notices absently. An overly fluffy one, with a slightly threatening glare. “I daresay I can spare five minutes. What is it that I can do for you, Dean?”

“Uh, so you study the supernatural, right?” Dean asks, clumsily. His hands are sweating where they’re shoved in the pockets of his jacket. “Ghosts and demons and all that shit?”

“I study the lore and mythology of supernatural beings, and why it’s important to humans to create such stories,” Professor Bradshaw clarifies, shortly.

“Right, got it,” Dean agrees, hastily. “But you’d know a bit about the Bridgewater coven?”

“I am familiar with the legends, yes,” Professor Bradshaw replies, reaching for his mug again. There’s an ink stain on the side of his index finger, smudged deep blue. Dean fleetingly wonders if it would rub off easily if he touched it, if it would leave a ghostly imprint on his own skin.

“Yeah – uh – so there’s been quite a lot of interest in the coven recently,” Dean blusters, annoyed with himself for how stupidly flustered he feels, “You know, since those bodies were found last week? At the burial site in Bridgewater Forest that’s associated with the legend? Yeah. Well, anyway, I was – hoping you might be able to tell me a little more about the legend of the coven.”

“I don’t see what the recent tragedies could possibly have to do with the legend,” Professor Bradshaw narrows his eyes skeptically.

“Right – yeah – nothing, I’m sure,” Dean lies hastily, “But the location of the crimes has definitely raised awareness about the existence of the legend, and that’s what we really want to provide for our readers.”

“Well, certainly, I can tell you the history,” Professor Bradshaw replies, briskly, “In fact, I teach an undergrad course on witchcraft in history and my lecture this Wednesday actually covers the legend of the coven. If you want a more detailed, nuanced version, you’re more than welcome to come along then – it’s at 11am in the Milton building. But I’m happy to give you the short version now, if that would be helpful?”

“Thanks – yeah, that’d be great,” Dean says, gratefully. “On a bit of a tight schedule today.”

“Well, the local legend about the Bridgewater coven has existed for almost two hundred years,” Professor Bradshaw starts, and immediately Dean can picture him talking in front of a lecture theatre full of kids. He’s a natural, something inherently captivating about the way he speaks. “In the 1800s, this village was an important site of religious pilgrimage. However, according to the legend, the village was also home to a small coven lead by a witch named Iris. Iris’s coven was said to have lived in secrecy in the forest on the outskirts of Bridgewater for years, and not to have troubled the village people. However, by 1816, the legend claims the coven had become very hostile, specifically towards the church. There were fears the coven had begun indoctrinating – or bewitching – members of the congregation.”

Professor Bradshaw pauses, swallowing another mouthful of tea. The muscles in his throat work, drawing Dean’s attention to the way his pale blue shirt isn’t buttoned up properly. He’s filled with the sudden, inexplicable urge to button it up correctly.

“More and more people started disappearing in connection with the coven,” Professor Bradshaw continues, setting his mug back down on the desk, and Dean jerks his gaze guiltily away from the line of his throat, clenching his hands into fists inside the pockets of his leather jacket. “The rapidly diminishing congregation lived in terror. The remaining members of the church all turned against each other. Then, at the height of local hysteria, Iris is said to have murdered Blanche, the minister’s daughter, in what is portrayed in the lore as some kind of statement of the coven’s power over the church.”

“Bet that didn’t go down too well,” Dean remarks, sardonically.

“Quite,” Professor Bradshaw catches Dean’s eye, an amused smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Anyway, according to the legend, the tragedy of Blanche’s death united the warring members of the congregation. They captured Iris and entombed her alive, using her own magic against her to keep her trapped. Iris’s death broke the spell on the members of the congregation who’d been indoctrinated against their will, and peace was restored to the village. The few remaining members of the original coven fled and were never seen again.”

“Wow,” Dean raises his eyebrows, “Very love-thy-neighbor.”

Professor Bradshaw snorts, “Yes. Religious leaders in the 1800s were renowned for sitting down and resolving their problems through compassionate discussion,” he remarks, dryly.

“Okay, but what about the other versions of the legend?” Dean asks, trying to remember the things Sam had told him to ask about, but drawing a total blank. His brain feels weirdly scrambled. It’s hard to remember what happened before walking into Professor Bradshaw’s office. “The other stories about the coven I’ve come across so far all seem pretty different.”

Professor Bradshaw frowns slightly. “It’s true, there are many conflicting accounts. Which is often the case with legends, being human constructions of the past,” he regards Dean slightly disapprovingly over the rim of his owl mug, a kind of skeptical stubbornness in the set of his mouth. “It’s not about knowing which ‘to believe’ – it’s about looking at why historically people have favored one version over the other and what that tells us about them.”

“Right, yeah, but aren’t legends often based on fact?” Dean pushes.

Professor Bradshaw pauses, contemplatively, “Yes. That’s certainly true in some cases.”

“Do you think it’s the case in this one?”

“Possibly,” Professor Bradshaw replies, haltingly. His expression is serious and he hesitates for a moment before elaborating; “In fact, I’m currently writing a paper about the historical figures who feature in the legend of the Bridgewater coven.”

“Yeah? Which ones?” Dean presses. He’s used to having to fake interest to get information out of people like Professor Bradshaw, but for once, he finds he’s genuinely interested. There’s something compelling about Professor Bradshaw’s evidently obsessive quest for obscure answers, something that resonates with all too much familiarity.

“Iris, predominantly,” Professor Bradshaw replies. “I’m very interested in the historical reasons women were condemned as witches. Often, it’s as simple as jilted male lovers using accusations of witchcraft as a means of revenge, or the women using herbal remedies that threatened contemporary male ideas of medicine and the body. Sometimes it’s to do with female homosexuality and society’s unacceptance of same sex relationships or women as sexual beings. Of course, it wasn’t uncommon for gay men to be condemned for witchcraft either. But statistically, more homosexual women died as a result of such accusations.”

“Uh – right –” Dean swallows, looking away. His hands are sweating again, and he wipes them surreptitiously on the insides of his pockets. Clearing his throat, he changes the subject, suddenly remembering the other thing Sam had told him to ask Professor Bradshaw about, “What about the runes?”

“Ah yes, the runes on Iris’s supposed tomb,” Professor Bradshaw’s gaze is suddenly inscrutable in a way that makes Dean’s heart thud uncomfortably in his chest. It sweeps over Dean, lingering and unnervingly blue for a moment, before he continues, “Very interesting. I’ve been studying them a great deal as part of my research. The true nature of them has always remained a mystery, and any attempts to discern their meaning haven’t fitted with the legend at all. I believe they may be key to understanding the history behind the creation of the legend. But,” he smiles, wryly, “It’s not an easy task. They’re unlike any runes I’ve come across anywhere else before.”

“Can I see?” Dean asks, partly out of interest, and partly for some way of distracting himself from the way his heart is still thumping uncomfortably fast.

“You’d have to visit the forest burial site to see them in person, but I do have a couple of sketches of the lines I’m working on at the moment,” Professor Bradshaw gets to his feet and crosses to the cabinet by the window, pulling the top drawer open.

The fall chestnut trees outside smolder amber behind his silhouette, midday sunshine pale gold and still where it filters through the window. Time seems strangely irrelevant. Dean watches as Professor Bradshaw flicks through a green binder, fingers quick and dexterous, skilled and uncalloused in a way Dean’s have never had the chance to be.

Dean swallows and looks away, ignoring the thud of his heart as he stares around at the rest of the room. He clocks a bunch of compendiums of mythology on the bookcase nearest him, and two other eccentric and slightly neglected looking plants. There’s a thick plaid rug on the couch in the corner, not quite concealing a plate of half-eaten toast. On the windowsill, there’s a little tin mug with a toothbrush in it that makes Dean wonder again just how often Professor Bradshaw goes home at all. He finds himself wondering whether Professor Bradshaw has always had nothing but an empty house to return to, or whether that’s a more recent development. He’s definitely old enough to be going through a divorce. The thought sits uncomfortably in Dean’s chest for reasons he doesn’t particularly want to identify.

“Here we are.” Professor Bradshaw’s gravelly voice, suddenly much closer, makes Dean jump. He glances around to find Professor Bradshaw standing beside him, holding out a sheet of paper. The smell of warm skin and peppermint catches Dean off guard, stronger this time, and still strangely compelling.

“Uh – thanks,” Dean says awkwardly, taking the proffered page. He feels Professor Bradshaw’s fingers brush against his fleetingly, warm and ink-stained.

Dean swallows, forcing himself to focus on the page in front of him even though his cheeks are hot with something he doesn’t want to think about. The sketches are good, a few strange vaguely Norse reminiscent symbols drawn hastily with accompanying, scrawled notes in the margins. There’s something about the runes that niggles at Dean’s brain, familiar and unfamiliar all at once, like something he’s known his whole life but can’t put his finger on.

“These are interesting,” Dean he frowns, tracing his finger along the two last symbols.

When he glances up, he finds Professor Bradshaw looking at him intently, blue eyes inscrutable. “Yes,” he says, leaning back against the desk and folding his arms across his chest. “Those are the ones which struck me too,” he’s speaking a little quieter, low voice distracting Dean from why the runes are so familiar. He hopes he can remember them, that Sam will be able to place what he can’t about them.

“So, uh, this tomb. The one with the runes on it – that’s definitely where that guy’s body was found last week? It wasn’t just nearby or something?” Dean forces himself to ask, ignoring the way his heart is suddenly thumping again. “And the girl found the week before – she was directly linked to the burial site too?”

Professor Bradshaw clears his throat, unfolding his arms. “I believe so, yes.”

“And that doesn’t seem – I don’t know – a little strange, to you?”

“Human beings committing violent acts against each other is generally something I find a little strange,” Professor Bradshaw replies, in clipped tones. “But beyond that – no. Now –” he breaks off, glancing at his watch. “I’m afraid I have a seminar to deliver in ten minutes,” he confesses, and there’s something unfinished about the way he says it, something almost reluctant. Like he half wants to stay here talking with Dean.

“No problem,” Dean stands, and takes a last glance at the sketches before handing them back, trying to commit them to memory. “Thanks, Professor.”

Their eyes meet as Professor Bradshaw accepts the page, and the room suddenly feels very airless, a pause suspended between them. Neither of them moves away.

This close, Dean can see miniscule flecks of grey like tiny stars lost in blue of Professor Bradshaw’s eyes, the way that his full lips are slightly chapped, like maybe he worries them between his teeth when he’s thinking. They’re soft pink and warm-looking, and Dean wonders fleetingly if they taste like peppermint tea.

“It was nice meeting you, Dean,” Professor Bradshaw says, gently, and his eyes are so blue.

“Uh – yeah – you too. Thanks. I’d – uh – I’d better get going,” Dean stammers, shoving his hands deep in his pockets and cursing the way his cheeks are suddenly flaming with heat. His thoughts churn unsteadily; he ignores them the way he’s learnt to.

Still feeling strangely wound-up, he nods awkwardly at Professor Bradshaw and turns reluctantly towards the door.

“Wait a moment, Dean –” Professor Bradshaw’s voice halts Dean in his tracks as he reaches the door, and Dean turns expectantly, heat thumping a little painfully.

“Yeah?”

“Here – you’re welcome to borrow a couple of books on local history,” Professor Bradshaw is pulling a couple of books down from the overflowing cabinet by the window. “They should have a bit more about the legend of the coven that you might find interesting. Divergences of the legend and so forth. I’ll need them back by Thursday morning as I’m teaching a class on them in the afternoon, but you’re welcome to borrow them until then if they’d be helpful.”

“You sure?” Dean takes the proffered books awkwardly, and swallows the strange disappointment sinks in him like a stone as Professor Bradshaw steps back again. “Thanks.”

“As I said, I’m also giving a lecture on Wednesday where I’ll be examining the history behind the legend of the coven. I meant what I said - you’d be more than welcome to attend,” Professor Bradshaw says, sincerely. His eyes are intent, and there’s a hint of something almost like hopefulness hidden in the depths of his gravelly voice. Working on long ingrained instinct, Dean chooses to ignore it.

“Thanks, I’ll – I’ll see what my schedule’s like,” Dean replies, haltingly.

“Of course,” Professor Bradshaw agrees. He turns back to his desk.

“Can I ask –” Dean pauses, watching Professor Bradshaw stuff another notebook and a stack of handouts into his briefcase. “You said you’re writing a paper about the runes at the forest burial site– do you go to there much?”

Professor Bradshaw glances up, distractedly. “Yes, I spend time there every week.”

“So you haven’t noticed anything – I don’t know – anything unusual when you’ve been there recently?” Dean ventures.

“Unusual how?” Professor Bradshaw closes his briefcase with a snap and looks up at Dean properly, eyes narrowed with sudden skepticism. It’s stronger than the hints Dean has caught at other points during their conversation, sharp and blue, a world away from the observant warmth of a few moments ago.

“I dunno – odd noises, sudden drops in temperature, shadows –”

“Just what are you asking me?” Professor Bradshaw demands, voice clipped and defensive.

“Have you seen anything like that?” Dean presses, stubbornly. Irritation prickles his skin.

“No, I haven’t,” Professor Bradshaw says, bluntly. “And you know why? Because yes, I study the supernatural – but it’s not real, Dean. I don’t know what kind of sensational article you’re writing about local lore, but I can assure you, lore is all it is.” He winds a striped scarf haphazardly around his neck, and grabs his briefcase off the desk. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a class to teach.”

-

Sam is eating some gross looking granola yoghurt pot with a plastic spoon when Dean eventually clambers back into the car, feeling distinctly frustrated.

“You took your time,” he remarks idly, raising an eyebrow as Dean adjusts the mirror with an unnecessary amount of force and turns on the ignition.

“Goddamn waste of time was what it was,” Dean mutters mutinously, pulling out of the space and then immediately being forced to hit the brakes when a cluster of students cross the parking lot in front of him. He grinds his teeth and resists the urge to honk the horn. “Thought I was getting somewhere but he completely shut down the minute I asked him if he’d noticed anything weird at the burial site.”

“Suspicious?” Sam frowns, through a mouthful of granola.

“No, don’t think so. Just really damn touchy,” Dean drums his fingers impatiently against the wheel as he waits for the students to move, “And a bit of an asshole. I dunno, suppose working in his field he’s probably used to people thinking he’s just some lunatic who believes in the supernatural.”

“And does he?”

Dean snorts. “No way. He’s got a real bee in his bonnet about it. You’d think someone who’s spent the last twenty years with their head buried in books about ghosts and covens and demonic possession might be a little more open to the idea,” he shrugs, and gives in to the temptation to lean on the horn, reveling in the brief satisfaction of making the students jump and scurry out of the way, “But no. The guy’s absolutely blind to it all, and could rival you on stubbornness.”

Sam purses his mouth in annoyance, but doesn’t rise to the bait. “Get anything useful at all?”

“He did lend me a couple books,” Dean admits, nodding in the direction of the backseat. “Have to take them back on Thursday morning, though. He needs them for some class.”

“He leant you his books?” Sam raises his eyebrows.

“Yeah,” Dean shrugs, skin prickling in annoyance, “What of it?”

“Dunno, that’s just,” Sam swallows a mouthful of yoghurt, “Pretty trusting. Academics usually treat their books as if they’re their first borns.”

“Don’t mess them up when you read them, then,” Dean says, dismissively, as they pull out onto the main street. “You find out anything useful about the victims?”

“Not really,” Sam leans back in his seat with a sigh, “Both from middle class, religious families. Seem to have been pretty well liked by people. Hard to establish any link more than that. The wife of the guy that was killed last week seemed a bit cagey, though,” he shrugs, “Might be worth a second visit to see if she’s holding out on us about something.”

“Right,” Dean drums his fingers impatiently against the wheel as they wait for a light to change. It’s starting to drizzle, tiny flecks of grey hitting the windshield. “Are we still definitely thinking ghost?”

“Seems like it,” Sam affirms, “The way the victims died definitely points to a vengeful spirit. But the place they were killed – connected to the burial site associated with the coven? I don’t know, I was thinking maybe it’s no ordinary ghost. Maybe it’s the vengeful spirit of a witch, and that’s why it’s so powerful?”

“Hm,” Dean mulls it over, flicking the windscreen wipers on as they continue to wait. They squeak slightly, repetitive and familiar. “You could be onto something there.”

“Yeah?”

“Professor Bradshaw was telling me about the local legend of the coven. Apparently, its leader was entombed alive by a bunch of angry churchgoers,” Dean steps on the accelerator as the light finally changes, and the rain-slicked village slides past in a blur. “That’s got to be some pretty good vengeful spirit material right there. And you said the victims were both religious, right? Can’t be a coincidence.”

“Why now, though?” Sam frowns. “It’s been what – two hundred years? There must have been plenty of churchgoers who walked by the burial site before now.”

“Dunno,” Dean shrugs, staring out at the rainy smudge of fall colors. The chestnuts trees lining the street are the same smoldering hue of amber as the one outside Professor Bradshaw’s window.

They drive in silence for a few moments, wipers squeaking.

“Okay,” Sam says, at length, “So I’m thinking – we go check into a motel, get through as much of these books from your professor as we can while we wait for the rain to stop, and then check out the burial site later this afternoon before it gets dark?” Sam asks, chucking his plastic spoon in the empty yoghurt container.

“He’s not ‘my professor’,” Dean says defensively, and suddenly has to step a little too hard on the breaks to avoid running a red light.

“Alright,” Sam says, slowly. “Okay.”

“Anyway, yeah,” Dean blusters, hastily, ignoring the weight of Sam’s gaze on the side of his face, “Works for me. But first,” he flicks on the indicator and pulls into a space near a little line of local shops. “Food. Not that yoghurty shit you’ve been eating. Real food.”

-

The forest is steeped in quiet in the way all ancient places are, fall singing the leaves on the gnarled branches that claw their way towards the fading gold of the late afternoon sun. Dean breathes in the wet, cloying smell of moss and follows Sam’s careful path through the trees. There’s a chill in the air, but the handle of Dean’s blade is hot in the palm of his hand.

“How much further to this place?” he hisses at Sam’s back, swatting a frond of bracken out of his face and casting his gaze edgily through the twisting branches and burnt amber.

“Nearly there, according to –” Sam stops so abruptly that Dean nearly collides with him, throwing out a cautionary arm.

“What?” Dean whispers urgently, instantly drawing his blade. His heart is racing now, whole body tense, coiled, ready to attack. His gaze flickers rapidly through the mess of branches and he stands on his tiptoes, trying to see past Sam’s stupidly large frame. “Sammy,” he hisses, impatiently, when Sam doesn’t immediately answer, “What is it?”

“There’s something there,” Sam breathes, almost inaudible. His posture is still, alert. Dean can see Sam’s hold on the gun in his back pocket tighten.

“What kind of something?” Dean whispers, craning his neck to try and see. The light seems somehow dimmer already, the fading sun sliding further towards the ground. When he breathes in, the smell of wet leaves is stronger, now that they’re in the heart of the forest. His heart is thrumming so fast but everything else feels suspended in time, unnaturally still.

“I think it’s a person,” Sam murmurs, and somewhere close, Dean hears the brittle rustle of dead leaves, loud and unnerving in the wooded quiet. He watches the quickened rise and fall of Sam’s shoulders as his breathing suddenly sharpens. “They’re holding something. They – shit, Dean, they’re coming this way.”

Dean reacts immediately and on nearly twenty years of protective instinct; he shoves Sam out of the way and stumbles out into the clearing, blade brandished in front of him.

---

#did i really just create a new ship tag on ao3 just because i couldn't get the idea of early seasons dean and pre-podcast jeremy meeting? #yes #yes i did #feedback truly makes my day <3 #crossposting from ao3 #bridgewater #bridgewater podcast #supernatural #dean winchester #jeremy bradshaw #dean x jeremy #spn fanfic #dean fanfic #my stuff #my posts: fanfic

[stephspurs]

A Family Affair | Euro 2020 Football Fanfiction

Hi besties - here is part 6! We are officially halfway through this fic! Part 6 sees friendships blossom, situationships struggle, and cheeky intercontinental facetime chats! I hope you all are enjoying it as much as i am! I love hearing from you after you've read it! Love always, Steph xx

Part 6 | parte sesta

warnings; a couple of tugs on the heartstrings (in both the best and worst ways)

word count; 2301

writing tools; third person until dashed line, first person thereafter.

next update; Friday 06/08 5pm AEST. Updates are three times/week (Monday, Wednesday & Friday)!

Tags (as requested by users); @footballffbarbiex @obsesseds-world @abysshaven

link to fic masterlist here

Amelia had been back in Turin for a week or so, settling back into her city apartment had been more difficult than she anticipated as she was now alone for the first time in more than 2.5 months. It wasn’t very often, but sometimes she did miss the companionship of having a boyfriend. She missed someone to have breakfast with, to watch movies under the covers, to bring to official events. She still did all of these things, with a date, that was a friend, that sometimes maybe crept beyond the friendship zone and into the we shouldn’t be doing this but it feels so good zone.

Fede was someone that hung around Amelia like a fly to sugar. She enjoyed the attention most of the time. She appreciated his friendship, wisdom, talent and intellect. He could hold a conversation, talk to her about the arts, sell her the dream. She even didn’t mind it when they did cross that line a few times. Long afternoons and even longer nights spent wrapped up together in his bed sheets, her bathtub, his kitchen, her lounge room...you get the point. It was almost as though the two were in a committed relationship - committed being the operable word.

Fede wanted Amelia all to himself, and she was just that - available to him and for him whenever he wished, which was often. That’s what confused Amelia most, he didn’t want to label their situationship. He was happy to be ‘friends’ outside the four walls of their respective homes, but lovers when the curtains were drawn. She would maybe understand if he was elusive, always going out and on his phone but he wasn’t. He spent all of his time with her, there wouldn't have been enough hours left in the day if he separated those he spent with her from those he spent alone.

The Juventus players noticed this behaviour early on, seeing a noticeable difference in the way their number 33 paid attention to their tactical sessions. How he was turning up to the training centre early, with an extra piccolo for the english member of their coaching staff. Federico claimed he was helping Amelia brush up on her Italian, but having an Italian-born mother who insisted on sharing her culture with her kids, meant she was pretty much fluent in the language before arriving in Turin. His teammates weren’t stupid and neither was she.

This was the one area of her life where Amelia felt comfortable to go with the flow, she didn’t need to prepare or overthink anything to do with the charming Italian boy from Firenze. She let him take it at his own pace, she was in no need to rush. She let him take her home to meet his Nonna, she spent quality alone time with his dogs when he’s running late from training, and that’s a rare occasion being that it’s normally her there after him and he hangs back to drive them both home.

Everything was progressing at his pace, and the moment Amelia just asks for some clarification on the situation, he would get visibly stressed. He wanted to have his cake and eat it too. And for a long time he could, he had Amelia's attention and affection at Juve, he even had it during their european campaign. At the end of the tournament, when they all broke up for their summer breaks, Fede conveniently waited until their final round in the shower, if you know what i mean, before pulling her into bed and having a heart to heart with her.

Amelia thought that she was finally getting the clarification that she was after, which in a way she did. Fede spoke whimsical words about how she makes him feel wanted and understood, and in turn he told her about the affects he knew he had on her. It was a conversation that would turn Shakespeare to a pile of rose petals. In the end, he told her that he wanted to continue what they had just how they had been doing it. And so, that's exactly how they left it. No labels. Friends outside of the four walls of their apartments. That was all Amelia needed to be able to enjoy her family holiday in Mykonos, guilt free, not missing the man that became the equivalent of her shadow.

The constant company she had in Mykonos compared to what she was experiencing in Turin made her more eager to return to work than she had previously. Of course, there are group chats and facetimes and phone calls throughout the days that kept her occupied, but she was missing the boys and her brother. Her friendship with Kyle was back to its old ways, memes being shared across the european continent, long phone calls to talk about their problems. Kyle knew all about the Fede x Amelia situation, Amelia having given him the sparknotes version over a wine filled zoom session one evening that same week. Their pre-seasons hadn’t gone back yet so they were able to indulge in a bit of vino, guilt free.

She was surprised about the constant contact, or lack thereof, that some of the boys had maintained with her. Ben Chilwell hadn’t once messaged or instagrammed the girl, despite being active in their group chats and liking her holiday pictures on instagram. He even made the rookie error of liking a picture so far down on her instagram, there was no way to explain his need for being there. She messaged him a couple times, assuming he just got busy with whatever he was doing, but there was radio silence on the other end.

A friendship she was surprised had blossomed so well, considering their flirtatious start to life, was with that of Jack Grealish and Tyrone Mings. There had been more facetimes than she could count between herself and the two villa boys. Whether it was Tyrone telling her about a book he had finished that he thought she would enjoy, or Jack asking her how to cook dinner, maybe even them both cooking dinner together - of course she had to have a later dinner to be able to do so, with the time difference and all...and there was no way Jack was going to be having dinner an hour early “athlete’s schedule an all tha ya’know” he would smirk down the camera, brummie accent on full display.

She met Tyrone through Jack, he facetimed the girl for outfit advice one night before going out with the tall defender and the pair hit it off. Both giving Jack the fashion advice he needed but didn’t want to hear (a Gucci two piece tracksuit set is never the answer). Tyrone immediately noticed a certain attention to detail being applied by his fellow number 10, to the tactics that were being put forward by the girl that was far too good at her job. His training was improving, his set pieces having a certain amount of flare. There was also a lack of attention being paid from Jack to other girls. Instead, much preferring to spend the evening at home watching the same netflix series as Amelia so that he could discuss it with her the next day, or better yet, at the same time.

As pre-season had commenced, Amelia had been applying the same tactics that she developed (and that obviously worked) throughout the European campaign to her Juventus club level. Having faith in the four men that were with her and the Azzurri to ensure that their other teammates were completing them accurately. It appears that her skill was widely recognised, having a few missed calls and voice messages left from English telephone numbers that she was yet to listen to. In all seriousness, she was nervous to listen to them. Worried that they would make her an offer she couldn’t refuse. A wise person once told her that you shouldn’t make any decisions whilst you're at the top of your happy, or the bottom of your sad. You should make important decisions when your life is at its constant. It's very easy to accept things that you wouldn’t normally when you're at the peak of your mood, just as easy as it is to forget the bigger picture when you're down. Who knew Kyle Walker was so wise.

“So, i’ve got a bit of a dilemma” She spoke down to her facetime camera one evening in early August.

“Hit me with it darlin’” Jack spoke back to her, getting his dinner utensils out so that they could cook together again. He didn’t like not being prepared for her tutorial, he got stressed if she added pepper and his pepper was still in his pantry. Each afternoon, when it was agreed upon what they would be cooking together that evening, she sent him a list of what he would need out on his bench to complete the meal.

“I’ve missed a few calls from English teleco numbers this last week or so”

“Ok? Do you think they’re scams? You’re beautiful Amelia but I don't think it's actually an Egyptian prince on the other end that wants to offer you 250k in exchange for your paypal info…”

“Ha ha very funny - that was one time ok and he wasn’t a Prince, he was claiming to be an investment banker and wanted to help me start up my portfolio-ANYWAY JACK I WAS 16! God just forget I even told you that story” Amelia barked down facetime, now pausing what she was doing to point at the British boy with her wooden spoon, the same way her mother would to her when she was being cheeky. All she was met with was boisterous laughter.

“Nah i’m only joking, continue with your story.”

“I began to listen to the start of one and it was a talent acquisition manager for one of the premier league clubs, offering me a job” Amelia said as she continued to stir her pasta. Tonight they were making penne arrabiata. She received no reply from the boy. Looking down to her camera to check the call was still active, she saw him looking at the camera with a serious expression.

“Are you going to tell me what the problem is before I start to get excited that you’re going to be living within driving distance from me? Oh god i’ve just realised - was it from Villa? You could be even closer than I imagined” Jack started to ramble, getting over excited with the prospect of being so close to the girl that he could physically hang out with her, instead of virtually.

“Jack calm down, I didn't listen long enough to find out what club he was from. I have 5 more just like it waiting in my inbox.”

“What's the problem then Mils?” Jack could see the girl had apprehension written all over her face.

“I’m just nervous that they're going to tell me everything I've always wanted to hear. That they’re going to make me an offer I can't refuse and I have to leave my life here.” Their pasta was ready to be dished up now, so the girl poured herself a glass of red wine and got herself comfy on her couch.

“Come on, play the messages and i’ll listen to them with you, be your voice of reason,” Jack offered the girl.

“I should probably call Tyrone, you’re just going to reject every club that isn’t Villa.” she laughed before switching facetime to her laptop, moving to the floor of her lounge room and resting her elbows on her coffee table. With the phone near the screen of her mac, she began to play the messages.

_____________________________________________________________

“Hi Amelia, Shaun here from Newcastle United-” “As if you’d waste your talents at Newcastle”

“Jack! That's horrible! At least i know i already look good in the black and white striped kit”

“No, not happening. Next”

“Amelia, Hope you don’t mind but I got your number off of one of my players who knows you. Long story short, we have a position here are Arsenal” “Bloody Bukayo, needs to keep his silky mitts off ya”

“Jack, give it a rest or i’m calling Tyrone”

“Amelia White, Greg here from Aston Villa Football Club” “Get in Greggles!! That's it, stop listening, you’re taking this one”

“I need to listen to them all Jack”

“So, you’ll consider Villa?”

“I’ll consider all of them”

“You’d really go to Arsenal? Aren’t you a Spurs supporter? Shocking stuff”

“Ok maybe not all of them”

“Ciao Amelia, Mario here from Chelsea Football Club - I’ve heard nothing but good things about you. We could really use you here at Chelsea next season. Give me a call when you get a spare moment to discuss the opportunity”

“What? Nothing to say to this one, Jack?”

“Nah, sounds ok. You deserve to showcase your skills at a big club like Chelsea. And besides, you’ll have Jorginho there to look after you. Come on, next one”

“It’s the last one actually”

“Amelia, we’ve got a fantastic opportunity here at Manchester City for someone with your skill set. It would be a massive advantage to have your tactical insight to the game coupled alongside the fantastic leadership we’ve already got at the club”. “Holy shit, Pep called you himself? Kyle Walker really knows how to pull strings when he wants something”

“I am overwhelmed”

“Hey, you don’t need to make any decisions right now. Sleep on it, talk it over with your family. Speak to Jorgi, I know you’re close with him. And just let me know when you decide to pick Villa so i can start house huntin’ for ya”

“Night Jack, speak soon”

“Sleep tight darlin’, speak to ya tomorrow”

Part 7. | settima parte

#football imagine #football fic #jadon sancho #ben chilwell #mason mount #declan rice #ben white #jack grealish #tyrone mings #kyle walker #ben chilwell imagine #jack grealish imagine #mason mount imagine #football one shot #tyrone mings imagine #x reader #a family affair fic #steph writes #stephspurs #italian national team #jorginho #federico bernardeshci #jorginho imagine #bernardeschi imagine #juventus fic #juventus imagine #italy nt imagine #england nt imagine #three lions imagine #azzurri imagine