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genshinboys · 2 years

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DATING APP HCS - AYATO

PAIRING: AYATO X FEM READER

WARNING: SMUT, DOM/LITTLE DYNAMICS

If you are an Ayato fan, do yourself a favour and read it. Even if you aren’t, you still better do it. Just saying :> Ayato is the best daddy material and I just had to write it. Smut, smut, smut and lots of Daddy Ayato taking care of his baby. You might want to find yourself a sugar daddy right after reading it, but don’t hold me accountable for it.

You’ve been mulling over the option of getting yourself a sugar daddy for quite some time now. You are just a broke Creative Writing major who can barely afford to pay the bills, not to mention the awfully high college fees.

All in all, you also can’t deny the fact that your sexual frustration has already reached sky-high levels, leaving you mostly annoyed and miserable. What’s wrong with you? Aren’t you cute enough? Maybe you’re just too clingy. You’ve heard it often enough to actually start believing it.

So, after the stage of initial doubt has passed, you find yourself seated on the sofa with a phone in your hand. You’ve done your research thoroughly. You know how terrible people can get online so you made sure to pick the safest dating site the Internet has to offer. Your anxiety soars high after you finally hit the save button and lean back to take a look at the profile you’ve created.

Coming to think of it, you’ve always been a little bit... different?

Your parents spoiled you rotten and brought you up inside of a protective bubble that guarded you against the cruelty of others and the world. It always felt like a little bit too much for your vulnerable side that very often took control of everything that happened in your life. From a very young age, you shunned the company of other kids, preferring to spend your time in solitude, immersed in your fantasy world of dolls and pastel plushies.

That bubble was just an illusion, though. You had no choice but to come up against some very harsh realities after you decided to move out of your parents’ secure haven. You wanted to pursue your dreams of becoming a writer and finally be able to look at yourself in the mirror without feeling like a failure.

Thus, if there is anything that you’re sure of in your life at this point; it must be:

1) You are Broke (with capital B!), but most certainly, you are not going to ask your parents to save your ass yet again.

2) You will go to any lengths to graduate from this university and make your family proud.

3) You are done with the permanent HORNY status. The prospects of having somebody else to look out for you as well as deal with the f.o.r.e.v.e.r wet panties issue is too good to let it fall between the cracks without giving it a chance first.

With your hopes high, you began browsing different profiles of strangers who hinted at being interested in providing for a Little. These were, however, mostly old and yucky-looking men. It took but a few minutes to realise that the idea of getting yourself a sugar daddy, no matter how pleasing it seems, will be more difficult than you had initially thought it would. Are you being too picky? Perhaps. But, you can’t bring yourself to EVER let a creep like that touch you! The mere thought triggers a gag reflex, and your body shudders as if attacked by thousands of sleazy slimes.

So, just when you are about to call it a day and go to bed to sulk over the fact that your pathetic ass can’t even find anybody to have sex with you, let alone pay you for it, your bulging in shock eyes almost pop out of your head.

„Holy shit!”

You rise to your feet and then; have to immediately sit back down because of the growing excitement causing the world around to spin.

This man is fucking flawless. Pastel hair? Elegant and charming smile? He doesn’t even look like he is anywhere near his 30s. Your mouth melts as if you haven’t eaten for days, and now there is a delicious looking cake served on a silver plate right in front of your eyes. Absurd. Why would a man of his calibre even want to pay anybody to have sex with him? Shouldn’t it be the other way round? Heck, you would surely pay him if your wallet was anything thicker than a tissue.

You swipe right.

And then your mood drops.

„Oh, I’m such a tool.”

Aha, why are you getting so excited? You pinch those burning cheeks hard enough to bring yourself down a peg or two. Why would he, the walking perfection of lavender and baby-blue Celestial being, ever become interested in YOU of all the people who’d be ready to bounce on his dick if he just as much as spared them a glance?

The profile name says AyatoDaddy. You wonder what his real name is. The site won’t let you see any personal details unless you match with someone. You were cautious enough to keep your name private and decided to stick to an alias of sorts. If they want to know your name they will need to ask. DUH.

Like an idiot, you spring to your feet yet again when the sound of the notification startles the shit out of you.

My oh my oh my

The screen lights up, and your heart gallops with the speed of a herd of feral horses.

A match? A new match?

And a message from... Kamisato Ayato.

You put your phone away, pacing around the room like a tiger trapped in a cage to gather your thoughts. It takes you precious minutes before you finally are ready to pick up the device again.

From: Kamisato Ayato

Hi, pretty girl. I saw your profile and simply couldn’t resist texting you. How come such a cute little doll like you doesn't have anyone to look after her? Well, no matter. It seems to be my lucky day. I’ll gladly take care of you, Little One.

You leave him on read as the man stands in stark contrast to all the creepy dudes that previously bombarded you with messages. It does funny things to your stomach. So polite? Also, no disgusting dick picks or other nasty comments about your boobs. Uh, how should you respond? Out of pure anxiety, you start biting your nails. Your body rocks back and forth with your legs pressed to your chest.

Ding-Ding

Another notification shakes you out of your brain paralysis.

Kamisato Ayato: Was I too direct? I know you have probably had your fair share of disappointments. Please, let me assure you, I’m nothing like the disgusting lot you’ve met so far. I will be good to you. It’s a promise, and I’m a man of my word. How about giving me a chance to prove it, though?

It’s indescribable what his words do to your affection-craving mind. Trembling, your clammy hands attempt to formulate a sentence as you tap the buttons in haste.

PinkFairy: No, no. You’re not too direct. I would like that too. It’s just, can we take it slow, please?

That wasn’t the best of answers, and you instantly regret sending it. Take it slow? What the fuck? You’ve just miraculously found yourself a sugar daddy who also happens to be the hottest man alive, and you want to TAKE IT SLOW???

KamisatoAyato: I see no problem with that, Pink Fairy :)

Shit, shouldn’t he be angry or something? You thought he would like to get things going fast if his profile is anything to infer from.

KamisatoAyato: I would love to get to know you better first.

Damn, you once again left him on read. What the hell is happening to you? FOCUS!

PinkFairy: Yes, yes. Exactly. Thank you for being so understanding!

Sheesh, this reply also comes across ass too cringy for your liking, and you want nothing else but to sink through the floor and vanish.

KamisatoAyato: I will be honest with you, Pink Fairy, and I trust you can also do the same for me. I’m not after some meaningless sex. It stopped being exciting a long time ago. What kind of Daddy/Dom are you interested in?

You become even more flustered. The sudden shift in the seriousness of this conversation makes you hold your breath, panic and fight the uneasiness whirring in the pit of your stomach as you fidget on the sofa. All the same, you realise it won’t do you any good if you lied to him.

PinkFairy: I’m new to this... I just know I don’t want any flings. I don’t like casual sex. Is that ok? :<

A girl saying she doesn’t like casual sex after going on a daddy looking spree. Now, that’s rich.

KamisatoAyato: So, if I understand you correctly, you’ve never had a Daddy?

Tears prick your eyes as you try to control the tightening in your throat, which results in a weird hiccup. What were you even thinking? This gorgeous man must be so done with you by now.

PinkFairy: No, I’ve never had a Daddy.

You can barely see the screen when you send the reply.

KamisatoAyato: That’s perfect! It makes me very happy. I’m also looking for a Little who wants a more stable relationship. I won’t disappoint you.

What? You try to process what has just happened, but it’s like anxiety and shock cobwebbed your mind.

KamisatoAyato: So, my PinkFairy, can I ask you for your name? I think I’ve gained enough of your trust to get to know it :) But, if not, I will send you a selfie so that you can be sure I’m not a fraud.

You gulp once his lilac pupils smile at you from the photo. There is a small mole under his mouth and a soft albeit a bit playful curve to his rosy lips. That’s so not fair. The man looks like a noble Prince from your bedtime stories.

PinkFairy: Thank you. You’re very handsome, but I’m sure you’ve heard it many times before. My name is Y/N.

You stare at the photo and notice more and more subtle details that all make up the graceful beauty of the man.

KamisatoAyato: You have a lovely name. As you probably already know, I’m Ayato. Very pleased to meet you. I’ve never heard it from such a cute girl like yourself, though. Can I also see you? Just a simple selfie, nothing that would make you feel uncomfortable. I simply wish to confirm my PinkFairy is real :)

You don’t feel anywhere near as attractive as he is, but you understand he also needs some proof that you’re not a scammer. Quickly, you wipe your tears away and try to take a decent photo. You send it to him; without even looking at it properly and preparing yourself mentally for another rejection.

KamisatoAyato: Oh, my my. Aren’t you just the prettiest? Thank you. I appreciate it.

The fact that he considers you pretty makes you feel light-headed. Does he mean it? Warmth nestles deep in your belly, and you begin to worry at your lip.

PinkFairy: You’re too nice.

You reply dryly, but Ayato doesn’t seem even remotely discouraged.

KamisatoAyato: So, what are you up to, Baby? Care to tell me something more about you?

The lavender angel keeps the conversation going until the very late hours of the evening. Until he is certain he will be the only thing on your mind when he finally tells you to lie down and rest like a good girl. Because that’s what you are, right? Daddy’s good little girl.

Unfortunately, you’re yet again reminded of your striking lack of any experience in the Little/Dom dynamics as you stare blankly at the pdf file sent by Ayato. Ahh, to be brutally honest, with the staggering total amount of 1 (questionable) partner in your life, more conventional sexual activities do not seem to be your forte either. The letters before your eyes start to blur when you sluggishly move down the never-ending list of rules/conditions of the contract.

You have quickly decided to skip the part which included various names of kinks and fetishes. These alien names looked so cryptic; it left you bewildered and careening off the edge of another melt-down. Does it mean Ayato intends to do all of that with you? Or is it like one of those patient surveys you are forced to fill in before the first meeting with your doctor? TICK for yes - I like it, CROSS - don’t you dare slash I have never done that before? Perhaps, the lilac-eyed Prince Charming wants to understand you and your needs better. Thing is, you don’t even know yourself. How could you, when the only sexual encounter you have had so far finished in a fiasco and lots of tears.

Instead, you focus on the more approachable terms of the contract.

1) No talking back to Daddy. Daddy is always right, and you must listen to him.

2) During playtime, you can only address Daddy Dom as Daddy / Master / Sir.

3) Be polite and well-mannered; say please and thank you.

4) No cursing.

5) Eat at least three meals a day. No dieting or food restriction unless you discuss it with Daddy first and he finds it necessary.

6) Sleep at least 8 hours a day. When Daddy tells you it is bedtime you must comply.

7) When something upsets you, Daddy must know about it.

8) No lies. You mustn’t under any circumstances keep secrets from Daddy or be dishonest.

9) Daddy wants to see you every day, even if for a short time.

10) Don’t touch yourself unless Daddy says you can.

11) No cumming without Daddy’s permission.

12) You must ask Daddy to help you with all of your sexual needs. Once again, no secrets are allowed.

The list goes on and on like this, getting spicier and more embarrassing with each point. You know you probably look like an absolute mess, cheeks crimson red, breath uneven and furrowed forehead. Your friend has been shooting you worried looks for the longest time now, but even though she is sitting right across from you, you didn’t notice.

„Pssst!”

She gestures toward you as discreetly as she only can to pull you out of your trance. Finally, you lift your eyes that have been glued to the screen of your phone for the majority of the lecture. You feel like abruptly woken up from the deepest of dreams. You gawk at her dully.

„Are you ok?”

She whispers offering you a concerned smile.

„Yeah, just zoned out. It’s all fine.”

You shrug her off, close to another heart attack when the phone vibrates on the desk. It’s a message from Ayato. You’ve been texting non-stop for a few days now. You have even exchanged phone numbers out of convenience. It’s still shocking how easy it is to talk to him; how smoothly the conversation is going without awkward pauses or misunderstandings. You seem to get on quite well.

He is funny and kind but also flirtatious. Not the pushy type, just the right dose of charm and teasing jokes to make you blush and squeal out loud whenever nobody is looking. You told him that your biggest wish is to become a writer; shared details about your life, favourite hobbies, things you do when you feel sad. He asks about everything and nothing, being very enthusiastic when you get comfortable enough to vent. He has also been pretty straightforward about the things you want to know, answering as sincerely as he only can.

From Ayato:

Hey, Pretty Girl. How about finally letting me see you this weekend? <3 Have you read the file I sent you?

You are torn. You have been craving to meet Ayato, imagining how perfect he must be in real life if he already appears to be the most amazing guy you have ever had a chance to talk to. Uneasy, you re-read the message a couple of times. What if he doesn't like you?

You freeze with the phone in your hand and stare hollowly at the lecturer who babbles something about the sudden shift in the popularity of Inazuman light novels that slowly out-compete the Shogun's beloved poetry. He proceeds to quote a widely respected owner of the publishing house in Inazuma - Yae Miko. She claims that without creative innovation there is never any progress. One must venture out of their comfort zone to reap the fruits of success.

You bite your lip, wondering if you actually have the guts to ever become as daring and fearless as the shrine maiden.

Shoot. Merciful Archons protect you.

It is a once-in-a-lifetime chance. If you chicken out now, you will be regretting till the end of your life.

To Ayato:

How about tomorrow?

You are still recovering from the aftershocks of probably the boldest thing you have done in the entirety of your mundane existence when the phone buzzes again. Ayato responds so quickly as if he was waiting for your reply with the device in his hands.

From Ayato:

That's my good girl. Daddy is proud of you ;) I will send you the details a bit later. I have to handle some boring paperwork now. The office is in utter chaos today.

To Ayato:

Sure thing! Take your time.

You twist and turn in your chair, barely surpassing the need to scream at the pet name. You are seriously in deep shit now.

As much as you want to remain calm, it all turns futile when you gingerly trudge into the fancy interiors of Uyuu restaurant, located in the heart of Inazuma. You never come here. The prices are just too high for your broke student standards. You shake your head, realising that you might be a little bit under-dressed for this extravagant place.

„Excuse me, have you got a reservation?”

The head waiter coughs, boldly eyeing your questionable choice in fashion. You go from slightly nervous to borderline hysterical when he continues staring at you with a raised eyebrow.

An arm slides around your waist. The rich and woodsy scent of hinoki reaches your nostrils before the otherworldly lavender man appears in your view, firmly pulling you closer to his hip.

„She is my guest.”

Ayato, whose blueish strands frame his face, cascading down to the broad shoulders, exudes an aura of superiority as he dismisses the man with an idle wave of his hand. There is a glint of distaste in the otherwise serene mosaic of blue and violet pigments of his pupils.

„My apologies.”

The waiter bows down, remorseful. He disappears behind the bamboo folding-screen seconds later. Eyes drilling holes in Ayato’s shoes as he retracts with his tail between his legs.

„You are late.”

You blush a brilliant red when he sneaks his hand under the fabric of your pink sweater. Ayato’s hot palm resolutely finds itself on your hip, turning you to face him. The heat emanating from where his long fingers dig into your flesh rushes further, blooming hotly below your belly. He is so tall. Beautiful. Too beautiful to put into words. Haze descends upon you as he keeps peering at you through the softness of his long lashes. Ayato smirks.

Archons above, you’re supposed to say something!

„I’m so sorry, I---,”

He leans forward. Plush lips dance across your cheek as he lazily skims your flushed face, finally pressing them harder, mere inches from your open mouth.

„Don’t be sorry. I’m so happy to have finally met you.”

Ayato hums, no, purrs words of praise right next to your ear.

„I knew you would be pretty, but...,”

He squeezes your hip harder, and you have to cling to his chest for some stability.

„This is far beyond my expectations.”

A crisp, fragrant forest and rich cypress aromas further hold you spellbound. His scent is so subtle yet strangely intoxicating, and you can’t help being a little heartbroken when he pulls away. Ayato reluctantly removes himself from your enticing warmth and straightens before you, appearing even more regal and handsome. His smile is blinding.

„Hey, where are your manners? Are you going to act like my good girl or not?”

He chastises, barely managing to stifle a smile at your bashful reaction.

„Thank you, thank you, I’m, erm, I’m so sorry.”

You no longer know what you are saying, drowning in the bottomless well of purple pupils.

„Look at you, learning so quickly.”

Ayato’s fingers brush over yours ever so delicately. He chuckles at the sweater paws, eventually weaving your hands together. It feels safe. Safer than you have felt in a long while.

„Come now, let us sit.”

Periwinkle haired man’s eyes linger on you, and even if you duck your head in embarrassment, Ayato’s soft fingertips capture your chin to put it back in place, right where he wants it, which is vis-a-vis his handsome features.

„My Baby looks lovely in pink.”

Ayato fumbles with the too long-sleeve of your sweater that swallows the entirety of your tiny hand. Another airy chuckle. Purple orbs chase yours in silent adoration.

„Is the ceiling more interesting than I am?”

Ayato teases, sneaking his palm under the sleeve to trace soothing circles over the tense knuckles.

„N-No! Of course not. T-thank you. Pink is my favourite colour.”

He giggles again for some reason and raises your hand to his mouth. You sweep over him with wide eyes. Slowly, tenderly Ayato kisses each hard knuckle; and the tension dissipates, forming a tight knot in your belly instead.

„Oh, I see. Are there any other colours that you are particularly fond of?”

He queries, kiss after kiss, causing your body to shiver.

„Baby b-blue or pastel purple. All pastel colours, I guess.”

You add hastily, brain utterly scrambled.

„M-hmm. I bet they would look good on you as well.”

Ayato smirks deviously, no longer able to keep his witty jokes at bay. Wait a minute---, is he referring to-,

„But, I’ll make sure to confirm that later. We agreed to take things slow, right Pink Fairy?”

The skin of your hand burns, each peck of his lips leaves a scorching hot residue of the man’s desire to have you.

All you can do is nod, fighting another tingling sensation that bolts down your spine.

„What do you think about the file?”

Ayato gently places your hand back on the table. Lavender eyes keep a strict watch on your reaction. He notices how your fingers retract, shimming away from his own.

„Is there anything you’d like to ask me?”

He catches your palm again before you have the chance to hide it under the table.

„I-I, I’m not sure about the meaning of some of these things...,”

You trail off, trying to control your breathing.

„Mhmm.”

Ayato hums, inching closer to you. He lowers his tone to a whisper, blowing hot air on your flushed cheek as he again takes over the conversation.

„You have never done these things before, correct? Don’t worry. The contract is just a guide. We will figure things out as we go. I have thought about it. I’m willing to forego certain formalities. You’re very special after all.”

His other palm wanders up and down your back, massaging the nervousness away. Unknowingly, your body sways towards him, yearning for more of his reassuring touches.

„Y-You do?”

You stutter your answer away, mindful not to moan out loud when his hand dives under the sweater for the second time already.

„What if I am not what you are looking for? Not the Little you want.”

Ayato clicks his tongue at you, possessively grabbing the meat of your hip to show you how much he disliked that answer.

„You are exactly what I want, silly.”

„Ah!”

A small squeak is torn out of your mouth when he so unexpectedly latches onto you. You peer at him, apologetic.

„What a pretty sound you just made. I love that.”

Ayato kisses your forehead, taking a deep breath to inhale the sweetness of your fruity shampoo. He cradles you closer. Some people turn their heads to see where the noise came from, but Ayato is too clouded with his obsessive need to hear you whimper again to register that.

His hand moves to the front, caressing the lower belly and your body jerks in response. He earns himself another little, muffled sound. Ahh, Ayato will have lots of fun with you. He knows it.

„Oh, you’re so addictive. I don’t think I will ever have enough of you.”

He chuckles, bewildered at how quickly you managed to intoxicate his brain.

„So, would you like to become Daddy’s Little Girl?”

And at this time, it’s hard to remember how to formulate a coherent sentence, so you just shake your head, much as you did it before.

„Daddy needs you to open this pretty mouth. Words, Baby, use your words.”

Ayato’s previous Littles all but pale compared to that pair of teary eyes looking at him in such a way that he would be ready to spread your cunt open with his cock, heedless of the people around. He would impale you with that thick shaft until you understand there will never be a better match for him than you, just you.

„Yes, Daddy. I want to be yours. Only yours.”

Unholy level of adrenaline mixed with lust roll over his body. The man breathes in and out slowly, with such great effort to remain civil. The world before you is obscured with the periwinkle coloured strands and lavender hues when something moist tickles your lips. Ayato is kissing you.

The kiss is ginger and haste, barely there.

„Daddy will protect you.”

He pulls away despite the fact that his hardened cock makes his thighs shake.

„You will be safe with me.”

Ayato’s heels dig into the ground. His limbs soon feel stiff from how much he’s been flexing his muscles, cutting off the blood flow.

„Now, let me pamper you with some good food. Let’s celebrate properly.”

He places another quick kiss on your temple before taking a greedy swig of water.

From that point, your life has turned upside down. Ayato made you quit your badly paid part-time job and, since then, has taken care of all the bills that were giving you constant headaches. You have been seeing him every day. He is very stubborn about always making sure you arrive at the university safe and sound (and with swollen from his demanding kisses lips). Yes. Ayato is sweet. He is also very authoritative and doesn’t take no for an answer. So, when you make some noises of complaint, he just menacingly zeros his eyes on yours.

„Princess, you are not going there by bus. Who do you think I am, huh? What kind of an outlandish idea is that even?”

He stares at your pouty lips for a few heartbeats. He exhales a long, tired sigh. Ayato walks up to your moody self, fingers squishing your cheeks hard enough to make you whine in discomfort.

„Listen here, young lady. Daddy said no bus, and you have no right acting so bratty about it now, understood?”

„B-but Daddy--,”

You try your hardest, opting for the puppy eyes and a few dramatic sniffles with your nose. Ayato’s firm resolve slips for the shortest of moments, but he won’t let you pick up on that.

„Are you going to question Daddy?”

He demands answers, pushing you flush against the wall behind you.

Ayato is a controlling man. A domineering ethereal being with little tolerance for defiance. And that is why you love pushing his buttons.

„No, no. I was just asking nicely, Daddy.”

Ayato tsked at you, pinning your wrist to the wall behind you. Archons above. Seconds later, his lips press to yours; with such fervour, so much passion. You are being kissed within an inch of your life in his office. You writhe your hips, squirming at the rock-solid grip around your trembling hands. You have only yourself to blame for his drunken power trip.

You love when reason leaves him. It’s rare to see the man so otherwise level-headed, so calm and collected go slightly feral when that mask drops, and his passion slips between the cracks.

He breaks the kiss. The lavender pupils darken, shrouded by the haze of need.

„I’m warning you, Baby. Do you think I don’t know you are doing that on purpose, mhm? You are lucky I’m at work. I’d spank your little ass till it gets red and swollen.”

He threatens you many a time. Things get awfully wet and sticky between your thighs whenever Ayato dirty-talks you with his eyes boring into yours.

He likes reading you stories while you are in his bed, cosily wrapped in his silky sheets. They smell like the man himself. It’s purely sex that’s on your mind when you inhale his pillow. Your pussy tingles with want.

„Baby, why don’t you snuggle up to the real thing instead.”

Ayato jokes, gleefully peering at your flustered face when he catches you red-handed. Maybe nothing bad would happen if you just told him you are ready to let him fuck you? You want to ask, but you are also too afraid at the same time. You have no idea about sex. What if you can’t please him?

Ayato’s blueish strands tickle your face, causing you to blink your eyes repeatedly. He hovers over you, arms on your shoulders as he presses you down to rest on the bed.

„I didn’t realise my Little needs Daddy’s attention so badly. Why didn’t you just say so, huh?”

The lavender angel teases, wrapping his arms tightly around your middle. He drops his head, burying it in the crook of your neck. You let out a shaky breath when he starts pepper-kissing every inch of your exposed skin. Something like dizziness descends upon you, numbing all of the sounds and sensations that are not related to Ayato himself.

„Say it.”

He orders.

„I want to hear it from your lips.”

Purple eyes gaze at you under the thick lashes when he drags his kisses lower to your chest.

„I-I need you, Daddy. I want all of your attention.”

His touches are measured and gentle as if each one was meant to make you lose your sanity for him. However, he has been nothing but sweet and caring so far, keeping his promise about taking it slow. Ayato’s kiss is long and deep before he takes the book into his hands.

„My good little girl. C’mere.”

He doesn’t fuck you that night. Nor the nights that follow after. Your heart beats furiously for the longest of times when he lulls you to sleep with his sensual voice and your head resting on his chest.

He takes you out on dates: picnics on sunny days; cinema to watch your favourite cartoons; romantic walks to admire the cherry blossoms that fall from the prettiest sakura trees everywhere in Inazuma. Everything in his company is much better, and today is no exception.

He took you to the amusement park; bought you a big pastel stuffie which he carried around the whole day so that you didn’t have to tire your small hands. The view was equally funny as it was adorable, and you couldn’t help stealing glances in his direction.

„What, never seen a grown-up man with a big-ass teddy bear?”

Ayato joked, making you choke on the boba tea as you broke into a fit of laughter. The lavender beauty soon joined you, not being able to hold it in any longer when you were giggling so heartily. The skin around his eyes crinkled, and he guffawed like the biggest dork. Struck dumb, you halted, dazzled by Ayato’s genuine display of emotions. Something, ok, more than one thing, more like a multitude of butterflies fluttered below your navel.

„Hey, why did you stop?”

Ayato queried. His glossy eyes smiled at you, entirely unaware of your inner turmoil. A small drop of rain landed on his perfect cheekbone, and the man looked heavenwards.

„Mhmm, seems like we should get you somewhere safe. How about---,”

Ayato craned his neck in search of some cosy place to sit.

„Ayato, can you take me home?”

Shogun wasn’t in the best of moods that day, and the drizzle of rain slowly picked up, wetting the angel’s periwinkle locks. Ayato reciprocated the hopeful twinkle in your eyes with the tiniest bit of hesitation.

„Didn’t you want to try that tea-cup ride?”

He decided to double-check, sealing the distance between you and him with the gigantic bear resting on his hip.

„No, no. Take me home..., Daddy, can you, please?.”

You tugged at the sleeve of his baby-blue turtleneck that matched your own. You had wished for an adorable couple outfit for you two, and the man agreed straight off, proudly wearing it to your dates.

How could he ever reject you when you masterfully pull at his heartstrings no matter how much he tries to remain unaffected?

Ayato lowered himself to peck your plush lips. You tasted like cotton candy and boba tea combined. Ayato thought about delving his tongue into your sweet mouth, but it wasn’t the time nor place to get himself carried away so easily.

„Come, sweet girl. Daddy will grant your every wish.”

„Almost done. Be patient.”

Ayato commands somewhat raspily, drying your hair with the towel. You’re seated cross-legged between his meaty thighs, fresh out of the bath and wearing his shirt only. You got caught in the rain on your way back to the parking lot. Ayato was palpably displeased, preparing a hot bath and a mug of camomile tea as soon as you made it into his apartment.

„I don’t like it, Daddy.”

You scoff, grimacing when he picks up the brush to untangle some of the knots. He is extremely delicate with you, so cautious not to cause any discomfort.

„Be good, and Daddy shall reward you.”

„B-but-,”

You mutter under your breath, and yet; Ayato pinches the flesh of your thigh in retaliation.

„No buts. I said be patient, didn’t I?”

You wiggle your hips to the sides impatiently, squealing at the burn when he gives your belly a squeeze as a second warning.

„No, Ayato, not my tummy!”

Ayato chuckles at the lack of daddy pet name, wondering if you realise how hard you have been pushing with your cute butt into his hardening cock. He hasn’t put on a fresh set of clothes yet. He discarded his turtleneck somewhere on the floor and promptly took care of your drenched attire.

So, he is sitting right behind you with his chest naked and wet periwinkle strands. The dampness of Ayato’s hair only adds to his naturally fresh scent of hinoki wood that beguiles your brain.

„Finally.”

Ayato grunts satisfied, lovingly pulling you closer to himself. His hands softly press onto your lower belly when he attacks your neck with his wet lips.

„Tickles.”

You squirm, and he smirks against your skin. You can feel it. The man is such a sleazy rascal sometimes!

„Ayato!”

He rakes the juncture between your shoulder and neck with his canines, making you flinch.

„What happened to Daddy? Huh? Did you forget? When it is playtime you are not allowed to use my name.”

He presses forward, simultaneously dragging your hips down to grind his dick against your buttocks.

Oh, so this is the type of playtime Ayato has in mind.

„S-Sorry, Daddy.”

You arch your back, and Ayato snuggles himself to you. His nose brushes against your cheek. With agonizing slowness, his hands dip lower, finding their safe spot on your inner thighs. You are not wearing any panties. Both of you know that he didn’t bring you a fresh pair of lingerie to the bathroom. Nothing else apart from his shirt.

Languidly, he begins to tease the plumpness of your thighs. Cushiony pads rasp over the skin, and you quiver, throwing your head back until it rests on his firm shoulder.

Ayato giggles huskily.

„Have I just found your weak spot?”

His laughter sends little shivers over your burning-up body. Ayato’s fingers run over the skin in perfect circles, teasingly getting closer to your silken folds.

„Daddy asked you a question.”

Ayato uses his nails to remind you how much he dislikes when you ignore him. If he just knew it isn't on purpose! Your brain is stir-fried. His touches take your coherence away.

„Yes, Daddy?”

You sigh and whimper, disoriented. Ayato listens attentively, galvanised by each stifled cry of pent-up need. Your breath catches in your throat when Ayato boldly, without any hesitation, slips one of his hands higher, under the shirt.

„Does my Baby feel good now?”

He leisurely traces the crease between the leg and hip, and you can’t hold back anymore. Your nails dig into his thighs. Something blazes inside your groin when he unexpectedly groans back, kneading the thigh with full force while squeezing your tummy, right above your wet pussy. He kitten-licks your neck, leaving a trail of saliva that burns your skin.

„Yes, oh--nah, yes!”

Ayato growls, crushing his lips against your neck with the sole purpose of marking you. The skin turns deep purple as he sucks ferally. You wiggle desperately, hissing at the piercing pain of his teeth scraping over the bruised spot.

„Daddy, h-hurts!”

You protest, but your body turns against you, granting him even better access when you melt against his chest.

„Oh, is that so? Do you remember the safe word, Little One?”

Ayato asks, tone menacing and laced with the intention to own you. Still, he needs to make sure. He needs to be certain you want it. He promised you, after all.

„I do, Daddy. It--,”

A weird hiccup makes it out of your dry throat. It prevents you from finishing your sentence. Ayato hears your thudding heart when his finger slides up and down right next to your folds. The juices gush out, even though he hasn’t done much to you yet. He smirks, playing with the slick that gathers on his fingertips.

„Say it. Daddy needs to know you will be able to stop me when it’s too much for you, Baby.”

You are completely overwhelmed, unconsciously pushing your hips forward, wanting him to do something, anything.

„Pink bubbles, it’s pink bubbles, Daddy, please! Please!”

Ayato angles his fingers just right. Two long digits press to your labia from each side as he continues the stroking movement. By the time he glides down to your anus, you are moaning out loud, hardly recognising your voice.

„Please what? You have to tell me what you want, Little One.”

Your breathing is hitched, and cheeks are angrily red. The man is fucking playing mind games with you.

„T-Touch me.”

The response comes off too brazen to Ayato’s liking, and he clicks his tongue. You are so embarrassed and frustrated you would be ready to kick and claw at the arrogant man. Yet, Ayato seems to be having the time of his life.

„I am touching you, am I not? Huh? Also, mind your language. It was supposed to be: daddy can you touch me, please.”

Fuck, this man is so damn annoying. You bite your lip so hard it draws blood.

„Daddy~”

Ayato’s cock throbs at the whine, which he has just wrung out of your pretty lips.

„Yes? Words, Baby, use your words.”

„Daddy touch my pussy, please!”

You scream at him, teary-eyed, boiling with need and anger. You can’t believe he made you say it out loud. He plunges the finger inside, purring into your ear in sheer adoration. Your hips budge, legs spread wider to feel him deeper. Much deeper. However, Ayato barely goes past the taut entrance, shallowly flicking the opening to the vagina whilst nibbling at your ear. Lust seizes your senses and deprives you of any shame.

„That’s not---, not like that! Uh!”

„What’s wrong, Little One?”

Ayato croons, feigning innocence. His honey voice is laced with maniacal excitement.

His other hand joins the ministrations, massaging the glistening folds with the flat surface of his pressed together fingers. The slide is so easy, so smooth, Ayato can’t get enough of it. Your pussy starts making these pretty sounds, spilling even more sweet essence when he picks up the pace, zigzagging the swollen pussy lips with a filthy grin of satisfaction on his face.

„Daddy!”

You whimper loudly, trembling, thrashing in his arms. As delicate as his thrusts into your are, your walls prickle with want, squeezing the tip of his finger as if they wanted to suck it in.

„Just put it in, put it in deeper!”

Ayato bites your earlobe gently, but your heartbeat spikes.

„Be nicer to Daddy, would you?”

Ayato reprimands, and then... everything stops. He stops touching you! It is a punishment for your bratty attitude, but still, it is so cruel. So unfair. You whine at the loss of the warmth of his fingers on your pussy. His digit retracted, leaving you clenching around nothing. The world spins, and your eyes shut tight as you bite the inner side of your cheek.

„Daddy, please! I want it deeper. I need you. I want to cum so badly.”

You weep, pathetically begging him to let you find your release. Ayato snarls when you start shaking your ass to the sides like a puppy ready to be bred. He thinks he is about to lose his mind. Vicious want slashes through his groin when you stir his throbbing cock with your cute ass. You are so fucking perfect. So needy and breedable. He will break you if he doesn’t control himself. He takes a deep breath. Finally, he whispers in his usual cool and teasing lilt.

„My good, good girl. Cum for daddy.”

He moans hotly against you when his finger delves deep into your velvety hole, immediately brushing over the gummy wall at the very back of your pussy. His other hand is back to playing with your labia, quicker than before, caressing the swollen flesh with the right amount of pressure. You meet his thrust with stuttering hips as tears of relief stream down your cheeks. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Tingly, so so tingly!

„Is that what you wanted, Sweetheart?”

„Yes, yes!”

His strokes deepen, lengthen, building the tension in your lower belly with each precise thrust. You clutch onto his forearm shakily. Nails dig into the unblemished skin, leaving it clawed and red. Ayato loves it. He wants to remind himself every day that he did that to you. He made you so desperate. He turned you into a brainless doll, craving only him and his attention.

„Daddy, close, so close!”

You chant, rocking your hips forward as you feel the first sparks of euphoria crackling low below your navel.

„Let it go, Baby.”

He orders, and the coil snaps. Slick gushes down, sticking to Ayato’s hand, dribbling down to the expensive sheets. Icy shivers ripple through your skin, making your whole body jerk as if teased with an electric current. He helps you through it. Ayato measuredly adjusts his moves to let you come down from your high; without over-stimulating you. He knows it might have been too much for you. He couldn’t control himself at all. He whispers sweet nothings against your ear, sensing how much you are shaking in his arms.

„Hey, Baby. Is everything ok? Did Daddy hurt you?”

Your cheeks are still wet with tears when you reposition slightly, burying your head into his chest.

„No. I just, I have never felt this way.”

You sob despite doing your utmost to keep it all in. You can hear Ayato’s heartbeat beating erratically. He wipes his hands into his trousers and pulls you flush against his torso.

„This way? Was it a good feeling or a bad one?”

Ayato unconsciously holds his breath when you take your time before answering his question.

„Too good.”

You mumble, drowsy and satisfied. Your eyelids are so heavy, mind and body exhausted like never before. Ayato sighs in relief.

„Hey, Daddy is happy. You make me so happy.”

He whispers, but you can’t hear him anymore, drifting away in Ayato’s secure embrace.

Ayato was going mad with need. His dick was so painfully hard he had half the mind to fuck you in your sleep. However, something, a very weird feeling deep inside his chest didn’t allow him to wake you up when you so obviously needed your rest after probably one of the very few orgasms of your life. Most assuredly, the first one given to you by another man. He jerked himself off in the bathroom, cringing at himself and his inability to get his shit together. Suddenly, he didn’t feel like the powerful man he is, well respected in Inazuma and dignified Kamisato Ayato, but this scared youth who inherited his father’s business and was forced to man up quickly.

You are doing bad things to him. Ayato’s mind is running in circles while he stares blankly at the documents in his office. You spent the morning together. He pampered you as well as he could, and after a shared breakfast, excused himself to go and work on some business-related issues.

Thus, here he is, unable to focus; and fighting some invisible monsters in his head. A shy knock on the door makes him come back to his senses.

„Come in.”

Your head peeks into the office. There is a meek smile on your face. The one that never fails to stir passion into his crotch.

„May I, Daddy?”

The lavender angel smiles back at you fondly.

„I don’t want to be alone. I promise I won’t disturb you.”

He notices a colouring book and crayons that are pressed to your chest.

How adorable can you be? Ayato thinks Celestia themselves sent you to him, and he is not sure he deserves it. He pats his lap invitingly.

„Sit here. There is plenty of space on the desk.”

Ayato shifts the documents, making even more room for the colouring book he bought for you during one of your dates.

You tip-toe towards the desk and stand before him, hesitant.

Ayato chuckles lightly.

„No need to be shy. How many times have you sat in Daddy’s lap already?”

His eyebrows raise at the lovely blush that adores your baby face. Archons have surely been too generous presenting you to him. Ayato might be a thick-skinned man, sometimes even too vain, too conceited. Regardless, he knows better than squandering what he has been offered. He will cherish you - his biggest reward for years of solitude and trials.

His jewel in the crown that he alone put on his head.

He can allow himself to be a bit vulnerable around you. Especially when you sheepishly peer at him through half-lidded eyes, as if he held the reins of your heart. He finds himself hoping he actually does.

Ayato extends his hands, helping you to get comfortable in his lap. A low, satisfied purr makes it out of his chest when your bare thighs slide against his, hiking up the skirt as you move higher.

„Comfy?”

Words are cooed into your ear, and the lavender angel kisses your forehead.

„I love it here, on your lap.”

Ayato hears a tiny gasp when he lazily places a couple of wet kisses on the nape of your neck. He inhales your scent, the fruity shampoo that he loves so much.

„Do you?~”

Even if you are an Archon-sent being, you still feel oddly human, particularly when his long fingers dive into the supple flesh of your hips, tummy, thighs...

„Yes, Daddy, ah-m---,s’ warm, so warm”

Shit. That little whimper again. Ayato has never suspected it would come to this. What is he; going to pop a boner just from smelling your soft hair? He straightens, forehead creased.

„I’m glad. Now, Daddy must work. You can go back to colouring.”

„Yes, Daddy.”

You asked him to pick the drawing. He opted for a duck family playing near the pond. The image is cosy and so domestic. He keeps stealing glances, entranced by these tiny hands that rummage through all the different crayons you have collected so far. He can’t withhold the shivers that zip down his limbs, slowing down his brain. Paperwork does not seem like an option anymore. He hardly muddles through that pins and needles state of paralysis.

Consciously or not, your bum moves against his dick when your legs swing under the desk. During one memorable instant, Ayato cracks. His sweaty palm clutches your hip.

„Baby, what do you think you are doing?”

He rasps the question out, holding onto you tightly.

„N-nothing. Just colouring, Daddy.”

A shameless lie. What is this cheeky attitude? Ayato needs a moment to stabilise his breathing when you press harder, openly rubbing his dick with your buttocks. He pushes back, brushing that rapidly hardening dick over your peachy ass. Ayato loves your ass. So perky and squishable.

„Y-You naughty girl.”

The periwinkle haired man stutters, lifting your skirt to admire these perfect curves. Flames of need flicker in his eyes when you turn to him. Sweet Archons, waves of arousal ripple through him, building up pressure in his twitching shaft.

„Where is your underwear, Baby?”

You attempt a coy smile, but he notices your nervousness. It further cobwebs his brain with threads of lust.

„I might have forgotten, Daddy.”

You rock your bum into his dick, glancing at him gingerly as if you needed confirmation you are doing things right. Ayato’s breath is driven out of him in short order when you continue squishing his dick. The desk moves when he thrusts back. Some crayons fall to the floor.

„I’m sorry. My fault, Daddy.”

Ayato stares at you with blown-out lavender pupils. Your legs tremble visibly when you get off his lap. You then get down to your knees, right in front of him.

„Do you know what you are getting yourself into, Little One?”

Ayato warns, getting more and more uncomfortable with his dick swelling against the zip of his white slacks.

„I’m picking up crayons, Daddy.”

Yes, indeed. You picked a few and in record time dumped them back on the desk. Your clueless act only winds him up more. You crawl back to his spread thighs, placing your small hands on Ayato’s knees. Brazenly, these hands start wandering up his legs, halting by a hair’s breadth from his dick.

„Do you want-want me to stop?”

You intended to sound so confident, but your voice almost gives out mid-sentence.

„Oh, Archons. No, never.”

Ayato realizes it is all new to you, and an inexplicable feeling of pride buds in his chest. You want to please him. The idea itself, your eagerness, that chaste insecurity... It is more intoxicating than any sake he has drunk in his life.

He takes your hands into his and kisses both of them before placing them back on his crotch.

„Daddy will help you, Sweetheart. Don’t worry about a thing.”

He promises and hastily takes out his erected cock. A pearly drop of precum trickles down the girthy shaft, making your lick your lips in anticipation. It is true you have never done this. It is also true you have no idea how to fit this massive piece of meat into your small mouth. However, you won’t give up unless you finally manage to make this perfect man feel good.

„Come closer.”

You comply, feverishly eyeing the red tip that twitches time after time as if it was telling you to suck it. Ayato buries one of his hands into your hair and peers into your glossy eyes.

„Just do whatever feels right. Play with me however you want, pretty girl.”

No, that is not fair. He shouldn’t say such things. The insides of your pussy flutter urgently, craving the man and his cock.

Things escalate fast from the first mind-boggling kiss to the mushroomy tip of that deliciously-curved cock. Ayato moans, not giving a shit about keeping appearances, encouraging you to kiss him again and again. The bitter-sweet mix of cum coats your lips, and you want more, taking a greedy drag of air, which is heavy with Ayato’s exquisite flavour. Kamisato bloodline sure feels noble and elevated on your tongue.

You had no idea cock sucking could be so pleasant.

„F-Fuck, Baby!”

He watches your face change with every wanton slurp and awkward gag when you take him too deeply. You don’t listen when he tells you to be more careful, not to force yourself to swallow it all. His toes curl, and he sits bent in half for most of your virgin-blow job.

„You are sucking too hard, fuck.”

The periwinkle haired beauty hisses out, writhing on the chair when you swirl your tongue, wringing out more creamy substance in a maddeningly slow rhythm. Ayato's whole body convulses, not once but twice, when you switch to flicking your tongue over the crease in a kitten-like fashion, and then your lover bursts without any prior warning.

„Shit!”

It borders on a scream when he empties himself unexpectedly, tugging at your hair as the world before his eyes flashes in different colours.

You swallow as fast as you can, trying not to choke when spurts of thick, rich cum gush down your throat. Ayato forces you off himself, and your moth makes a lewd pop sound. You gasp for air like a strangled animal, looking down at your fingers. They are covered in gossamer liquid.

„So much of it, Daddy.”

You comment, lifting those fingers to your mouth; and hurriedly licking them clean. Meanwhile, Ayato is devastated, failing to comprehend what the hell has just happened.

„Did I do well?”

You demand praise while gulping down the remnants of Ayato’s sexual frustration.

He pulls you closer by your neck, claiming your sticky lips in a deep, thorough kiss that takes your breath away.

„I refuse to believe that was your first, you little minx.”

He picks you up from the floor, your legs instinctively wrapping around his hips as he carries you in what seems to be the direction of your shared bedroom. You are agitated, tipsy with self-satisfaction that buzzes all over your being.

„Oh, Daddy. You must tell me. Did you like it?”

You tease, giggling next to his ear, and Ayato grabs your bum, somewhat irked. He throws you on the bed, crawling on top of you like a beast with only one goal in mind.

„Daddy will show you. No need to fret, Pink Fairy.”

„Uh?”

Despite having just ejaculated, his shaft is still half-hard when he wetly slides down your body, forcing his way between your thighs.

He is in no mood for playing; and delves his tongue into your hole, bypassing the niceties entirely.

„Wha---, no!”

His tongue feels like a hot brand. It plunges into you as if Ayato thrived on the experience of your juices in his mouth. You are dripping wet, and your pussy starts screaming in pleasure right from the very beginning. It makes you self-conscious. Hands shoot up to his back. You mark him red, painting his skin in red lines.

You whimper in your tiny voice for him to stop, but he immobilizes you, fucking his tongue into your pussy with lunatic zeal.

Ayato is not happy about getting off before you. It is against his rules. That’s not how he wants to treat his precious little gem.

He will make you cum twice as much even if he has to tie you up and do it by force.

Luckily, it won’t be necessary. You are such a good little girl, after all.

A soundless cry is torn out of you when deep passion flutters anxiously below your navel. Unclear thoughts flow in and out of your brain as Ayato sucks an orgasm out of your swollen folds.

„Mhmm. That was so delicious, Baby. Thank you.”

Ayato hums, giving his dick a few lazy pumps to coat himself properly before he tears you open with it.

He admires his work. Your hair is in sweet disarray, pussy glistening with the mix of his spit and your climax. Body flushed and nicely prepared to be bred by Ayato’s thick cock. He did it to you. He smirks, power-drunk.

You look at him, getting all drowsy like the night before. The lavender angel won’t be letting you off the hook that easily today, though.

„Daddy?”

He angles himself, smearing the tip of his shaft all over your entrance.

„Ohhh, feels nice, doesn’t it?”

You cry out his name, forgetting to stick to the Daddy pet name rule. He chuckles, languidly pressing inside.

„Yes, Daddy will show you how much he loves you. Just you wait.”

MASTERLIST

Hope you liked my story. If you are interested in the continuation, please make sure to let me know. I won’t bite.

If you enjoy my writing please leave a comment, reblog, visit my blog and interact with me <3 It means a lot and keeps me motivated!

Tagged: @dazaiscum @ainescribe @plumpkie @prnces @ryxmix @ williamaftonsbiggestsimp

#ayato smut #genshin smut #ayato headcanons #ayato scenarios #genshin impact smut #ayato drabbles #ayato genshim impact #kamisato ayato #ayato imagines #ayato x reader #ayato x fem reader #genshin drabbles #genshin scenarios #genshin imagines #genshin impact scenarios #genshin impact drabbles #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact headcanons

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rosesvioletshardy · 3 years

Text

overtime win celebrations - mat barzal

okay this is very unedited because i lowkey rushed it and i know it’s bad. also this is very bad smut because i haven’t written it in a while and i tried to read others and my old ones to get some inspiration and try to make it at least accurate in a way idk

also a very happy birthday mat today

(isles win today or else i’ll fly to new york and 🔪) (jk ,,, unless)

this was requested by @gigissports who gave me the idea of this fic when i said i wanted to write a fic but didn’t know what to write about or who to write about so thank you to her and i hope you like it

(also idk what that title is it’s the first thing that came to my mind)

(ps y’all should also follow her as well she’s an amazing person)

masterlist

mat masterlist

warnings: mention of fights, SMUT (18+) (minors please don’t interact), fluff, little angst? (idk mat is a little upset so idk if that’d count as angst)

# of words: 1,941 (sorry it’s short i tried to make it somewhat longer but my brain decided to go into writer’s block so)

----

It was all going well, up until it wasn’t. You knew that playoff hockey got even more intense than the regular season and meant that more injuries were prone to happen. Mat told you the night the Islanders got clinched that he wouldn’t try to get into many fights anymore or get anymore penalty minutes seeing that he’s their star and that the top player shouldn’t have that many penalty minutes. He managed to not get into any fights or get any penalties the first 4 games. You would’ve gone to the game but you decided to stay at yours and Mat’s apartment to watch the game due to being busy earlier in the day and Mat was completely fine with however you wanted to watch the game. The only thing he did request before he left was that you wore one of his jerseys that he wasn’t going to be wearing for good luck. As soon as you came home from work it was the first thing you did and you sent a picture to him to show him. You knew he wouldn’t answer right away but you saw that he read it.

The game was going smoothly up until the second period where the penguins were leading by 3. You knew that the team was frustrated by the way they looked as the camera panned over to the bench and that they were trying their hardest. Mat’s line was now playing and you felt as if they were going to score during that period. It wasn’t until moments after Anthony’s goal where a fight broke out and Mat got into the middle of it. You couldn’t tell what happened but you stood up on your feet and became really concerned. It wasn’t until you saw him walk towards the locker room with one of the medics before they showed the reply. The rest of the game you couldn’t focus on and only worried that something would happen even later into the game. Mat had said he was fine but you knew that he wasn’t from when they showed him.

The only good thing to come out of the game was the double overtime win and you knew it was going to be a while before Mat got home. You hadn’t really had anything for dinner because of it and could only eat crackers because your mind was only worried for Mat and Mat only. It wasn’t long before you fell asleep seeing how late it was. Mat on the other hand was exhausted as well and it was just from playing almost 5 rounds of hockey. A sigh escaped his mouth when he reached the front door and took out his keys only to find you sleeping on the couch wearing his white jersey. He smiled at the site before dropping his bag and taking his shoes off before walking over to you and crouching down in front of you. Mat took a moment to analyze the details of your face before he started to caress your face and wake you up. Your eyes began to flutter open as you saw him crouched down to your height

“Hey baby” he whispered as you sat up making room for him

“Hi maty, sorry you had to see me like this” you told as he sat down and pulled you into his chest

“It’s okay you deserve some rest.” he said trying to hide his eye

“Let me see, don’t hide it.”

“I didn’t want you to be mad”

“Why would I be mad?” you asked him confusion running across your face

“Because I promised to you that I wouldn't get into any fights or get any penalties during playoffs” he admitted

“I’m not mad, I was worried the entire time. It happens.” you affirmed him as you ran your fingers over the bruised eye lightly making sure that you didn’t hurt him. The two of you sat there in silence for a while taking in each other’s company before you both looked at each other and brought your lips together. You’ve been with Mat for over a year and a half and yet he still gave you butterflies every time you kissed. Straddling him, you continued to kiss as you ran your fingers through his hair.

Everything in that moment just felt perfect. Mat pulled away and stood up, picked you up and took you to yours and his room. After laying you down on the bed, he began to slowly push up his jersey while pressing small kisses along your jaw and down your neck, leaving marks, making you moan before pulling away to take the jersey off. His breath hitched when he saw the lingerie you had on underneath and smiled and you spoke up

“I was going to surprise you when you got home but i ended up falling asleep, so this isn’t exactly how I planned it” you told him sitting back up

“Well I’m still surprised don’t worry and you still look beautiful” he said before giving you another kiss and laying you back down after you took off his suit jacket, shirt and pants leaving him just in his underwear as you traced your fingers down his body

“I love you so much. Thank you for everything you do. From supporting me at home and away games to dealing with me and my antics”

Mat unclipped you bra as he pressed light kisses over your collarbones as his hands roamed all over your body and stopping at your thighs, Pushing your legs apart, his fingers hooking onto your underwear before sliding them off and inserting two of them inside you. His eyes never left yours, curling his fingers more and while his thumb rubbed your clit, causing you to moan

“Maty, please” you let out

“In all time princess. It’s all about patience” he whispered in your ear before removing his fingers as soon as he felt you clenching.

Removing his fingers, he brought them up to his mouth and sucked off your juices and sank down to his knees and kissed the soft skin of your thighs, feeling scruff from his playoff beard he was finally allowed to grow out. He wasted no time when it came to eating you out as he sucked back on your clit. One of his favorite sounds was hearing your moans and whimpers, as a smirk plastered onto his face, gripping your thighs tighter. You became more and more frustrated as you tugged on his hair wanting more. Pulling him closer onto you, his hands grabbed your breasts making you gasp and moan his name more. He began to slowly lick your clit before starting to suck on it. You can feel him slowly pull away before going back and inserting his finger again

“Oh god. Oh fuck. Mat that feels so good. Please don’t stop”

“What do you need princess?”

“You. I need you.”

“Fuck, maty i’m so close please” you told him as you could feel him humming against your clit, sending shivers down your spine. The familiar feeling began to coil in your stomach as you tugged on his hair harder and him licking you as his name left your lips, almost to the point where the neighbors would probably hear.

When he pulled away, he pressed a kiss against your lips, making you taste yourself. Mat leaned over to grab a condom from the nightstand next to the bed as you began to palm him through his boxers before pulling it down. You helped him roll the condom on him as he then lined himself in between you and grabbing your legs to hook against him

“You ready?” he asked looking into your eyes, making sure you’re still comfortable

“Yes” you told him as you curled your fingers at the bottom of his hair as he pressed his lips against yours while pushing himself inside you, groaning into his mouth.

His hips rolled with every thrust he gave, his lips leaving yours and pressing kisses along your jaw as he whispered in your ear as the occasional moan left his lips when you marked up his back or tugged his hair more. His hands gripped around your waist as he

“I love you so much.”

“I love you so much too”

“Are you close?” he whispered pulling away from your neck “Mhm” you nodded as a whine left your left as he thrusted harder,

“It’s okay, let go” he whispered in your ear as the both of you let go of your highs. Mat came out of you and fell on the bed next to you. The two of you stayed quiet as you both breathed heavily trying to catch your breaths.

“Well that was-”

“Yeah” he finished as he took the condom off and threw it in the trashcan when got up and went to the bathroom

When Mat came back, he started to clean you up with the damp towel, making sure that you were alright and that he didn’t hurt you. He took his time making sure to stop as soon as you started to feel uncomfortable or started to wince. You kept trying to fight off the sleepiness that was taking over so you had a chance to talk to Mat about everything he wanted just so he can get his mind over it. Your eyes were starting to slowly close once again until you felt the bed dip and Mat’s arm pull you so your head was on his chest

“What’s going on through that mind of yours?” you asked him knowing that he was thinking about the game again

“Just the game, the fight, how much my eye hurts” he laughs off but you can tell he’s still somewhat upset causing you to get up and face him

“Mathew, you did your best, and you’ll keep doing your best. I know you know this but you go close to a goal each period and in overtime. Yes, it’s not going well, but you need to have some faith in you. There’s still some positives that happened, you assisted a couple of goals from Tito and Scott, plus the game winning goal. Those are still something-” you told him before he cut you off

“Yeah but they’re not a goal you know? Everyone, from commentators to interviewers have been on my ass about not scoring and it’s frustrating to listen to and when it happens it gets blocked” mat exclaimed, as he ran his hand through is hair trying not to show his frustration

“I hate to be the bearer of bad news but that will happen and things will get better. Remember you were struggling towards the end of the regular season and then you got a goal straight out of the penalty box?”

“Yes but-”

“But nothing. You still have game 6 and I know that you guys will advance to the next round and you will get that goal that you want.” you finished as you now sit on his lap staring into his eyes and grabbing his hands

“Okay, mainly because I trust you and I love you.” he said as he gave you a small peck on the lips

“I love you”

“Now, do you still have enough energy for another round or are you tired?”

“I don’t know, I’m not the one who played 5 periods of hockey and got into a fight” you smirked as he flipped you onto your back

“Well then, you shouldn’t have said that missy” he whispered to you smirking as he went back down on you

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cinnamonest · 2 years

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I wanted to address these - I realize I posted a lot less the past few months. I have been working two jobs on top of being a university student, I was operating on a schedule where I was usually going to bed around 4-5 and waking up at 8 on weekdays, so unfortunately I ended up compensating by sleeping a lot more on weekends. Hence, I was a bit short on time. Thankfully, I will not go back to the same system next semester and will be on a much better schedule.

I definitely did not plan well when I started out, having never operated a blog before I was very bad at gauging how much time it would take to get through things and let it accumulate. That's my fault for having poor planning/perception skills and being hesitant to close the inbox. That's why I'm trying to make up for it now by finding a balance and answering at least some of the older asks, and trying to avoid burnout by maintaining some interaction. I cannot reach back in time to tell past me to do things differently.

I know different writers on this site do things differently, some just leave inboxes open all the time and pick and choose things to answer but I would prefer not to do that bc I don't want people's ideas to go to waste. Unfortunately that means there will need to be times I leave it closed. I have seen some that have set days once or twice a week to have inboxes open and that is likely what I'll transition to. I recognize that, given my workload, it's not possible for me to leave it open as that will lead to the same situation as before. I do tend to answer full-length submissions with "."'s and posting as is or short responses because I want them to be seen since you guys put effort into that and they're always well thought-out, often so much so that I just don't have much to add, but I wanted them to be seen.

That being said, the longest I went without posting was actually a little less than 4 days, and other than that my gaps between posting, whenever I didn't post each day, were usually around 48 hours, based on my archive records.

At the end of the day though, I do this for fun. I have to prioritize school and work. There are a lot of really talented and super cool writers on this site, and I encourage you to check them out as well, if my frequency is frustrating, which I understand.

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kinktae · 4 years

Text

beyond the story: bitchin’

Hi friends! I hope you are all staying safe and healthy during these tough times! I really wanted to put something out there as a thank you to just how much support Bitchin’ got. You guys really are incredible. So, although this story has come to an end, I wanted to properly close the Bitchin’ chapter by giving you all a behind the scenes look at Bitchin’ and everything that went into writing it. This includes hidden easter eggs, backstories, alternative plot-lines, and a short drabble of the Bitchin’ cast 10 years after the story’s end.

Without further ado, please enjoy and thank you again for all your love. You have all of mine.

CHAPTER ONE – PARTNERS

Ah, yes, the start of this whole wild ride. I’ve always loved the whole nerd/popular person trope in fanfics, so it was only a matter of time before I tried my hand at it too. One thing I was adamant about was not making this a “popular person turns nerd hot/confident/better” fic as its kind of one of my least favorite cliches. With that in mind, and knowing that I was going to allude to TATBILB’s contract, I decided that I wanted Y/N to gain as much from the deal as Jungkook did. No blackmail, no just agreeing for the hell of it – Y/N was going to further herself and her dreams given the opportunity.

The beginning of the chapter is where the two are most separated and dissimilar throughout the whole story. It wasn’t that they were fundamentally different, it was that they approached life differently. Y/N was frustrated at how superficial Jungkook seemed, because she believes there is much more to life than just kicking your feet up and cracking jokes.

On the other hand, Jungkook didn’t understand why Y/N was so tense and on guard. To him, life was meant to enjoy and not take so seriously. Which makes sense, given that he grew up with minimal rules and minimal worries (bare minimum partners wassup !)

“So, do we have a deal? Partners?” There was mischievous timber to his words, the kind that made you feel as if this would all later come back to bite you in the ass.

Pushing that pestering thought away, you took his hand into yours, holding his eyes as you gave it a firm shake.

“Partners.”

God, this bit. I knew from the minute I wrote it that I was writing the ending of bitchin’ along with it. I knew this was exactly how I was going to end this story, bc the word partners has multiple means right? In chapter 1, this meant business partners, but in the final chapter… it means life partners. Idk, I’m just still really happy with this writing decision :D

CHAPTER TWO – THE CONTRACT

Dearest Yara. We meet her in chapter two don’t we? Yara is completely based off of my irl best friend Yara who is a writer and who helped me A LOT with this story. She was my biggest supporter throughout figuring out this crazy plot. It was initially only about seven parts, but with her help I managed to bump it up to 10! Everybody say thank you Yaraaaa.

You were angry, that much was evident to her. Yara was sat in your shared dorm’s living room, a thick blanket engulfing her small frame. You briefly glanced towards the TV, it was tuned into MTV, the familiar music video of Every Breath You Take by The Police playing, before directing your glare back onto the copper-haired girl.

The song reference is a direct allusion to writer Yara’s fic, which is one of my favorite fics by her. She was actively writing it around the start of our friendship so it only felt right to pay respects to her. The introduction of her character felt necessary imo bc I wanted to make sure Y/N had a life outside Jungkook. Plus, I got to use the scenes between the two girls as a way to reference the music and culture scene. Yara is especially a fan of the powerful women in the music industry at the time, i.e., Madonna, Annie Lennox, Cyndi Laupner, etc.) Yara is a raging feminist and believer in sexual freedom and libery for women, we do in fact have to stan.

“How old do you think your sister is?”

“Hey, don’t sass me. For your information, Lyanna still has all her Care Bear tapes. She threw a hissy fit when my mom tried to give them away last Christmas.” Yara recalled.

Lyanna is one of writer Yara’s past pseudonyms. She always used to joke about how whenever she read it, it was confusing because there was Y/N, Yara and Lyanna, which were technically all her lolol.

FUNNY STORY ABOUT THE CONTRACT I INSERTED INTO THIS PICTURE… Twitter found it and made it into somewhat of a meme because no one knew it came from a fic rip. I was actually rly embarrassed and even wrote some posts about how much twitter scared me on my blog LMAO. but THEN weirdly enough, I actually stumbled upon a small community on twitter who actually found my fic and would TWEET ABOUT IT!!! LIKE REACTIONS TO EACH UPDATE!!! I wish I could go back in time and remember how giddy I was the first time I found a tweet about my fic. The fanfic community on twitter gave me a new love for the site (which I had previously had removed myself from because of its toxicity) and I have met so many wonderful people because of it. People even made themselves a little twitter group chat to talk about my fics, and now we are all friends! I miss posting a chapter of bitchin’ and refreshing my twitter feed as all my mutuals would post memes and live tweet their reactions. God that made me so fucking happy.

CHAPTER THREE – THE ROLLERSKATING DATE

I love the bickering in this chapter, because unlike the bickering in the first chapter, it’s actually less hostile and more playful. Y/N is slowly letting her guard down to the very persistently charming Jungkook.

“Woah. Family of six, huh? So you have siblings then.” He noted.

“Yep. Three.”

“Tell me about them.”

Looking up from where you were slipping on your second skate, you met Jungkook’s eyes, surprised to see genuine interest in them.

I actually originally had Y/N brush him off here. I was going to wait until the drunk party scene for Y/N to open up about her family and relationship with her sisters. But then I kind of thought to myself… Why? Y/N made peace with it and doesn’t hold onto those insecurities anymore. And objectively, Jungkook hasn’t proven himself to be a bad person so… I let Y/N open herself up to him.

“Then there’s the twins, Rosa and Lia.”

“Hold on. Twins? Wait… did they go to our high school?” Jungkook asked, his interest in this conversation doubled.

“Yep. They were two grades above us.” You confirmed.

“Oh shit, yeah, I remember your sisters, they were mad hot.” Jungkook let out a low whistle, before stiffening, flashing you an apologetic look. “Uh, in a totally non-meathead way.”

You offered the scared-looking boy a small smile, shaking your head.

Some of y’all notice but, Rosa and Lia are a blatant homage to my name: Roselia. ACTUALLY some form of my name can be found in every one of the rewind series fics, including upcoming ones. I’ll give a cookie to whoever can find every single mention hehe.

“I told you it was dumb.” You laughed nervously.

It wasn’t that you cared much about what Jungkook thought but you had a feeling a guy like him, who was popular and carefree, wouldn’t be able to sympathize in the way you would like him to.

“No, I’m just… surprised, that’s all.”

Jungkook certainly was surprised. You had built up quite the impression on him from the very moment you two met. It was hard to imagine that the girl who was so unapologetically herself was ever unsure or insecure.

Somehow, the idea tugged at his heart, as if he understood you more if only just a little.

From the get go, Jungkook was extremely drawn to just how confident and secure Y/N was in herself. I knew I wanted Y/N to be unapologetically sure of herself and in her abilities. Something I didn’t want, however, was for frat boy!jungkook’s only personality traits to be liking sex and being a cocky bastard (although I am a big consumer of that trope heh). Jungkook is actually canonly incredibly insecure. He lacks a real sense of self, which is why he is so desperate for Kiri back. His relationship with Kiri at that time was a big part of what he thought was himself. He has somewhat of low self esteem tbh which is why he’ll go back to a woman who treated him unfairly. That’s why he comes off the way he does in the first chapter and why Y/N thinks he has a big ego... he’s overcompensating. He finds it so endlessly fascinating that Y/N, in all her confident glory, was actually once super insecure. He admires her all the more once she opens up about her past.

“Oh, Rosa is an intern for our hometown’s newspaper but between you and me those assholes don’t even let her write. She does coffee and burger runs for men in charge. And Lia sells ice cream at the mall.”

“What about your brother?” Jungkook asked.

“He’s training to be a cop just like my dad.”

“And your mom?”

“She works at a convenience store.”

All their careers resemble people in the latest Stranger Things season (Nancy, Steve, Hopper, and Joyce). Fun Cameo there.

“What’s wrong?” You wondered, following his eyes.

“October 16th, 1985. 6:48PM.”

“Yes. That’s today’s date and time. What about it?” You pressed, growing confused.

“Remember it.” He warned.

“Why?”

“It’s when I fell in love with you.”

This iconic line I actually got from the real Jeon Jungkook himself. While Jungkook wasn’t actually in love with Y/N here, it certainly was a cute way for him to express his admiration for her.

OH HERE’S A FUN FACT: the hickey scene at the end of this chapter where JK and Y/N kiss for the first time was actually supposed to be Yara giving Y/N the hickey like the best friend she is. Ultimately I went with JK giving it for... smut purposes... ≖‿≖

CHAPTER FOUR – THE HALLOWEEN PARTY

The decision for Y/N to be Freddie Krueger came from me planning to be him for Halloween. And I was! JK as Glen Lantz just followed naturally. I’ve seen some great edits of him as the character. Truly chef’s kiss.

I really liked that Jungkook came over to the girl’s dorm to get ready. I didn’t want a scene where Y/N was thrown into a situation she was uncomfortable with which is how much Nerd At A Party Scene go so made sure Jungkook stayed by her side throughout the part, going out of his way to introducing her to the people he cared about.

Tae’s character came in when I realized I needed a way to actually put Y/N’s event in motion. He was the missing link and BOY did you guys eat his character right up huh. Love that for me.

Another thing, the confrontation with Kiri was so hard to write guys, I reeaaaally struggle with girl conflict. GIRLS SHOULD SUPPORT GIRLS. However, not everyone gets along in real life so I went with Kiri being more along the lines of petty rather than outwardly a cunt to Y/N. Realistically, Kiri is popular and well liked among the greek life so being unkind to someone she hardly knows wouldn’t make sense. There’s definitely tension between these two but I tried my best to steer away from the typical cat fight/revenge porn/public humiliation trope most movies seem to follow.

CHAPTER FIVE – THE FIRST TIME

Introduction to Erik!!!! It was really important to me that Y/N had a life before Jungkook. That's why I wrote in Y/N having a fiancé. She’s not opposed to love, she just has reshifted her focus. She knows what she wants and is choosing to focus on that, which why when she realizes she’s falling for Kookie she’s so hesitant to admit it because she’s fallen down that road before. Even though Jungkook treats her with respect and acknowledges the parts of her she’s most proud of, she just isn’t willing to possibly give up her passions for love. Which is why she doesn’t immediately confess to him, even once she’s sure she loves him.

“I’m serious, nerd. You’re like… um… the sun!” Jungkook marveled, eyes growing full as the realization dawned on him.

“The sun?” You laughed.

“Yeah, like… you’re this bright, beautiful thing that seems like it’s here in front of me but is really light-years away.”

Jungkook was drunk, and although you were sure he was making more sense in his head, you couldn’t help but feel your face grow hot, unsure of how to react to his drunk analogy.

“You’re the sun, Y/N. You make the world turn for you. Never orbit for anyone else.”

And suddenly, you were kissing him, for no other reason other than you wanted to and that it felt like the right thing to do.

No real commentary here. Just love this bit. It’s probably my favorite interaction between them two ‧⁺◟( ᵒ̴̶̷̥́ ·̫ ᵒ̴̶̷̣̥̀ )

“Also… She’s, uh, currently dating Eunwoo.” You told Yara.

Your best friend blinked, silence falling over her.

“Yara?”

“Good for her.” She perked up almost forcibly. “Let her put up with his annoying ass.”

Yara could see the way your expression had turned dubious as if you didn’t believe her nonchalant act.

Yara turned up her nose defensively, “What?”

Ugh yes, some character development from Yara.... the flavor ! Yara (much like Y/N and JK) also struggles with love. She has a real fear of commitment and if far more comfortable with casual sex than relationships. She did develop actual feelings for Eunwoo, she just wasn’t ready for that kind of commitment so she cut him off. Fleed the scene if you will. Typical gemini smh my head.

"I don’t think the contract mentioned orgasms.” Jungkook smirked as you released his thumb.

“I say we let it slide.” You shrugged, leaning into him casually.

“You think?”

“Totally. Think of it as… a bonding activity.” You joked, resting your chin on his shoulder, peering up through your lashes.

“Damn, we’re really committed to this fake dating thing, huh.”

You laughed in the way that you hated, but Jungkook loved; it was loud and abrupt, but it genuine, and it was you.

“What can I say, I’m a method actor.” You sighed dramatically, causing Jungkook to grin before pressing a kiss to your nose, simply because he liked the way it always seemed to make you smile.

GOD THEY’RE SO WHIPPED FOR EACH OTHER ITS DISGUSTING!!!!!! I’m really happy I decided not to make sleeping together a big deal and I got a lot of feedback from you guys agreeing! I had a lot of fun with these two’s sex scenes knowing they could do it whenever they wanted.

CHAPTER SIX – THE STEM EVENT

I started the scene with smut BUT I wanted to point out that much of their time spent together is at Y/N dorm, Jungkook either napping, hanging out or doing work as Y/N would study like she always did. I liked the idea that Jungkook would get bored and would want attention from Y/N because she was so focused. Idk, I just wanted to write a love story about two people spending time together and figuring out how they fit in each other’s lives as opposed to some dramatic I mEeT HiM aNd mY LiFe bEcAmE cRaZy. There’s nothing wrong with that plot line, I just didn’t want that for these two dorks. I wanted Y/N to interact with JK’s scene and crowd but not give up her own which is why most days JK and her just lounged around in her dorm studying.

Also, I don’t know how the teacher/student roleplay made it into the smut, it just did, no further questions (ʃ⌣́_⌣́ƪ).

Then the event scene.

“You’re whipped, dude! Seriously.”

Jungkook felt his face go red, “Shut up, no, I’m not.”

“Hey, I’m not judging. I get it. That’s your girl.” Taehyung shrugged. Jungkook placed a hand on the fold up table in front of him, staring down at the information pamphlet you had worked so hard on.

“She’s just… so fucking driven and passionate about everything she does. Sometimes I look at her, and I’m just like… holy shit, what am I doing with a girl like her? I feel like she’s totally out of my league and being with me is holding her back but— I dunno, man. I just… really like her.” Jungkook revealed, voice growing small.

An unexpected wave of tenderness fell over the two boys, Taehyung throwing an arm over his little brother’s shoulder.

“I’m happy for you, bro.”

Jungkook didn’t know it just yet but dude was talking from the heart and, is in fact, totally whipped :’c

I loved the confrontation scene between the boys and Eunwoo because the boys standing up for Yara really did make everyone feel like a friend group, not just some character who happen to exist at the same time. It wasn’t just Y/N and Yara and one side and the boys on the other. They would all become friends, which is ideal to me. A boyfriend who likes your best friend and considers her a friend so you can all hang out??? Yes please.

Initially, irl Yara and I had noooo clue if Yara would end up with Eunwoo or not. That was actually the original goal actually. But after this chapter four, you guys made it ABUNDANTLY clear that you guys wanted to see Taeyara, despite the two never even meeting! Honestly, it wasn’t until this chapter was written that we decided for sure that Eunwoo was out of the picture for Yara. Part of me really wanted to keep Yara single, but irl Yara insisted on dick and frankly, she’s right. Bitchin’ Yara deserved a shot at love. She definitely has her own story outside of Bitchin’ and will experience a lot of growth in the future.

“God, I know. I do not miss that temper of his.” She chuckled, her words piquing your interest.

“Temper?”

“Oh, yeah. Have you seriously not experienced it yet? He’s got some gnarly anger issues. Not to mention all the lying…” Kiri paused suddenly, straightening up as she flashed you an apologetic look. “Yikes, I’m sorry. I totally should not be telling you this. I’m not trying to be that gross girl that shit talks her ex to his current girlfriend.”

Miss Kiri, Miss Kiri. She really acted up this chapter didn’t she. There was a lot of discussion about whether or not those things she said about Jungkook were true. Which was exactly what I wanted hehe. We come to find out that Kiri had definitely stretched the truth. She really is good at manipulation and understanding how people think and it’s why she is in the role that she is in. Messy queen.

CHAPTER SEVEN – THE ROOFTOP DATE

This entire chapter was inspired by High School Musical with Troy and Gabriella’s rooftop garden scenes. This was my shortest chapter and honestly, probably not my strongest. I definitely went into writing this with zero concept of what I actually wanted to happen. Usually when I write my chapters I have a 4k long outline of it beforehand that I go off of. Not this one though. I really just winged it and I tried my best to write a chapter that really showed off (dialogue wise) just how this couple bounces off each other. I do really like some of the banter they have in this chapter.

You had taken note a little wooden popsicle stick poking up from the soil of the yellow flowers. Acacias, they were marked. Pulling your knees up to your chest, you considered his words.

Yellow acacias stands the value of true friendship and can indicate a secret love! I thought that was very appropriate given these dummies' relationship.

“So, you probably know why I brought you here.”

You nodded.

“You’re proposing, right?”

“Yeah, I– oh, shut up.” He laughed, the serious mood shattering as you joined him.

Even though I knew they were going to have a semi serious talk, what with Y/N asking about what Kiri had told her, these two dufuses realistically are just too comfortable with each other to stay serious for too long.

“Hey, I said that out of frustration, I didn’t really mean it. I’m sure she’ll come crawling back soon.” You attempted to comfort him, hoping to sound sincere.

“Even if that’s true, I’m not entirely sure I want that anymore.”

“What?” You blinked. Jungkook shrugged.

“What about us?” He met your eyes, causing your breath to hitch.

“What about us?”

Jungkook stared at you for a moment, noting the way the timber in your voice had become higher pitched as if panicked.

MORE FUN FACTS LMFAO: I typically do this thing with unplanned chapters where I just go for it and write and usually it works out. But when I wrote this down I remember stopping and being like ??? WHY DID I JUST WRITE THAT ??? I don’t like deleting my writing so I had a serious think to myself about whether this was going to be the moment Jungkook confessed or not.

Canonly, I decided that Jungkook did in fact mean ‘us’ in a romantic sense, but because of the way you perceivably panicked at that possible meaning, he decided against taking the conversation in that direction, instead speaking about ‘us’ in a platonic sense. Poor kookie :(

“Stop. Listen to me, Jungkook, you’re a fucking great guy, okay? You’re charismatic and funny and care about your friends… sure, you almost ruined my event, but it was mostly to defend my best friend when Eunwoo got too pushy, right? You’re a good guy, meathead. I know I joke about your ego, but I really believe you’re capable of more than you think you are. Seriously, Kiri is so lucky to be the object of your affection.”

Jungkook watched the way the sun’s orange light kissed your face, a bittersweet feeling growing in his chest as he contemplated the object of his affection. Just a couple of months ago, he would have had no doubt about who held his heart, but as you held his stare, he found himself unsure and yet, entirely sure all the same.

“Jungkook? You okay?” You frowned, catching in the sadness in his eyes.

“Hm? Yeah, yeah. I just… realized something.”

“Oh? What’s that?”

“…It doesn’t matter.” He smiled, the gesture hardly reaching his eyes.

It’s in this moment that Jungkook decides that there is no way you hold the same affection towards him that he does to you. He mistakes your words of comfort as you pushing him away. You are so kind and encouraging and Jungkook loves you so much that hearing you insist about him ending back up with Kiri hurts him so bad.

But you are still unsure about your feelings and genuinely believe that's still what Jungkook wants. You’re just being a supportive friend!! :( It isn’t until the end of this chapter when Y/N has her talk with Yara that she realizes, oh man, she’s in deep.

CHAPTER EIGHT – THE MISTAKE

BLAH. This chapter is so BLAH, you know? Having to write this chapter was SO HARD. I texted irl Yara complaining about how much I hated having to put my characters through this and that I wanted to just end the story on chapter 7 and keep them happy forever. BUT ALAS! I had planned for this to happen from the start.

You tasted like the mint of your favorite brand of toothpaste. He imagined if he had caught you any later then the mint would have been accompanied by the taste of coffee, knowing the way you rarely started a day without a cup.

God, he had missed the taste of you.

What you guys didn’t see is Jungkook spending the night with Kiri, and immediately kicking her out, freaking out as the weight of guilt washed over him. He knew he had done nothing wrong, that you weren’t his real girlfriend, and that getting back together with Kiri was exactly what he had signed up for. It was what he should’ve wanted. But it wasn't… because you were what he wanted. And that was exactly what he was going to tell you as he marched over to your apartment.

But he panicked. His mind already decided that your answer to him would be no– that you didn’t feel the same. So he kissed you. He had you in the only way he was allowed to. He was selfish and impulsive and so incredibly scared that he ended up hurting the person he loved the most.

Initially though, I had Jungkook get back together with Kiri, not that he slept with her right before sleeping with Y/N. But I decided TEEHEE let me just make everything erupt into flames. However, I didn’t realize just how angry with Jungkook you guys would get. I remember thinking DAMMIT WAS THAT TOO SCANDALOUS?? I knew I was going to have to work hard for Jungkook to redeem himself to my readers.

“She wants to get back together.” Jungkook swallowed dryly, eyes wavering between yours as if to gauge your reaction.

“…Oh.”

You shook your head.

“I mean, wow! That’s… That’s great!” You smiled, something tearing apart inside you as the words left your lips.

“Y/N–”

“Seriously! This means it worked, right? This is exactly what you wanted to happen.” You enthused, turning your head so that he couldn’t see the way your eyes had welled up.

Jungkook’s heart was pounding in his ears, fighting the urge to wrap his arms around you.

“Yeah… yeah, no, you’re right. We did it.” He replied monotonously.

GOD THIS PART IS SO UNBELIEVABLY FRUSTRATING! JUST ADMIT YOU LOVE EACH OTHER YOU MORONS! This entire situation is so convoluted because there's so much information missing and not being expressed, I seriously want to ring my own neck rereading this bit.

“Are you mad?” He called out cautiously, a heavy feeling falling onto his chest.

“Why would I be mad?” You quipped back sharply, causing Jungkook to flinch. He shifted in his seat uncomfortably.

“I just thought… I mean we’ve been fooling around a lot lately, so I didn’t know if—”

“If what? I had feelings for you?” You scoffed. “Please, as if I’d ever fall for you.”

And there it was— everything Jungkook already knew but had been so afraid to hear. Of course, you didn’t feel for him what he felt for you. How could he have expected anything different?

IDIOTS!!! THEY'RE BOTH IDIOTS!!! I don't know how y'all put up with this for so long. Forgive me.

CHAPTER NINE – THE BREAK

Okay I actually love this chapter. And for many reasons. Let me break down the three scenes for you guys.

Scene one: Kiri confrontation

Kiri is definitely an opposing antagonist. She is constantly working against Y/N because of their interests directly conflicting. BUT. I would argue that the biggest antagonist to this story is the inner ones – Y/N and Jungkook's lack of ability to admit their feelings constantly holding them both back from their happy ending. That being said, a confrontation scene between Y/N and Kiri was MUCH needed. While I suppose I can understand why Kiri doesn't like Y/N, that doesn't change the fact that she has been disrespectful and catty. So miss Y/N had to put Miss Kiri in her place (•̀ᴗ•́)

Scene two: Yara and Tae at the library

Fanservice. That is all. LMFAOOO y'all reallllyyy wanted it to happen and who am I to deny my people what they want. It was really fun getting to explore my side characters and develop them through interactions outside the two main characters. IRL Yara also mentioned giving bitchin’ Yara and Tae their own chapter as a joke and I was like LOL BET. I fully was going to but then I got the idea for the next scene and was like ahh ok maybe not the whole chapter.

Scene three: Meeting with Erik

So. This was a SUPER last minute decision. Like, it wasn’t until I was writing this chapter that I planned on Erik making an appearance. I saw a tweet with someone saying their bitchin theories and they mentioned Erik appearing out of nowhere and I was like,,, HOLD ON!!!! That could be kind of spicy ≖‿≖

I knew for a fact JK was NOT going to be forgiven in this chapter; I needed a way to lay the situation out between the two dorks without trying to seem like I was trying to sway my audience in a way that didn't make sense to the story. Y/N was rightfully angry. But she wasn't only angry about the timing of the sex. She was angry that Jungkook went back to Kiri at all and there was no way she was going to admit that. So who better to lay it all out than calculated, unbiased third party Erik. He deserved some character development after all.

I also liked the idea that Y/N had, in theory, “romantic options.” Losing Jungkook didn’t mean the end of her life. Having my female lead stand on her own was very important to me.

CHAPTER TEN – THE END

RIGHT OF THE BAT I needed Jungkook to suffer. So that whole scene where he tries to interact with his old group only for his presence to make everything awkward MMMM yes, sweet revenge on my part.

You were surprised. His hair was no longer shaggy and long like you remembered it. Instead, it had been freshly cut, looking healthy and neatly styled for the first time since you met Jungkook.

THE WAY SO MANY PEOPLE COMMENTED ON THIS LINE “but Y/N liked it long?!?” IS SO FUNNNYyyyy. So let me clarify a thing. Jungkook had always wanted to cut his hair right. The only reason he didn’t was because Y/N told him not to. With Y/N no longer in the picture to convince him out of it, he cut his hair. That’s really all there is to it skfjsjf.

You know, I had written this part around the time I had just finished up the third ch believe it or not. And it was COMPLETELY different. I had it planned that Yara and Y/N ignored him throughout class and Yara had gone back after the bell rang to go verbally assault JK. And as the two hashed it out, only then was that when Jungkook would realize that he liked Y/N after Yara literally spelled it out for him.

“You like her, dumbass!” Was what I had written Yara saying. I really had written him in denial for ten chapters, I was a whole sociopath (╥﹏╥). But ultimately, I decided that Jungkook came to that conclusion on his own and the decision to apologize to Y/N would have been made over winter break.

“You said Kiri came over asking for you back, yet you still came over and slept with me the next day. Even though the two of you had sex the night before. Do you understand how that makes me feel?”

“I’m—”

“Like garbage!" You emphasized, the white paint of the door somehow irritating you further. "I felt like I was something you threw away and picked back up whenever you felt like getting your dick wet.”

Your chest was rising and falling rapidly, and you tried your hardest to not let your emotions get the best of you.

“Not to mention to everyone else, it looks like you cheated on me. Which makes me look like a fucking idiot." You scoffed.

Jungkook said nothing in reply, which somehow made it easier to say all you should have said that day in your room.

“It just sucks to realize that someone you once cared about sees you as nothing more than a toy. It fucking sucks.”

Man :( writing this hurt my heart. I really, really, love bitchin!y/n and writing her hurting freaking stinks. But she had to speak her mind. She deserves the chance to get everything off her chest with the way Jungkook hurt her.

Your heart and mind were in constant paradox, torn between wanting him back and wanting him to know just how much he had hurt you. Your mind ultimately won the battle, of course, but as Jungkook stood just a few inches of drywood apart pouring his heart out, it was hard to say which major organ was responsible for your next words.

The creak of the door being pushed open sent Jungkook's eyes wide, revealing your hesitant form. You had your arms crossed over your chest as if to guard the contents inside of it.

You looked like an angel underneath the bathroom's blue fluorescent lights, beautiful and lovely, a stark contrast from your next crushing sentence.

“I slept with Erik.”

Hehe. Ofc my girl Y/N had to have a rebound!!! She knows that life goes on. However, as I wrote in, she definitely regretted it. It was kind of the same situation that Jungkook was in where he pursued something just because it was familiar and a distraction and not because he really wanted it. Both Y/N and Jungkook are flawed characters but that’s okay! If anything, Y/N’s mistake of sleeping with Erik is what allows her to forgive Jungkook. Knowing first hand how complicated their entire relationship really was.

“I don’t need you… but I don’t think I want a life without you.” You finished shyly.

Your eyes were locked with his when suddenly a small noise escaped him, eyes pulling away from yours as his head moved to attempt to hide the way his eyes had grown wet.

I got this line from one of my best friends after her ex broke up with her. It made me physically sad and really sympathize with her so I quickly wrote it down into my notes app to save for later LMAOOOO. Knowing that you are your own person and life will inevitably go on after losing someone, but that your heart still wants and is pleading for the one person you can’t have. SO SAD. I’m happy I got to use this line in one of my fics.

The note Jungkook wrote Y/N,,, imagine him not being able to sleep one night over winter break so he just writes down everything he should have told Y/N while he still had the chance…. I’ll for real cry dude, he’s so cute. Also, the line about him buying you fluffy Halloween socks for Christmas went over people’s heads I think but HECK I THOUGHT THAT WAS SO FUNNY AND SWEET (because Y/N bought Christmas socks when it was Halloween teehee).

"Are you two dorks done crying?" Yara’s voice rang out suddenly, causing both of you to jump apart.

"Yara, you creep! Privacy, dude! Ever try knocking?" You sniffed, wiping at your face hurriedly.

"What? Like you were peeing with Jungkook in the bathroom? Please." She waved you off, walking back into the living room to give you two some privacy. She did say Jungkook had 15 minutes before she’d have to come back in after all. "Anyway, Tae will be over in 10 minutes for the Saved By The Bell marathon that’s on so you guys are more than welcomed to join." She called out from her newly seated position on the couch.

I included this scene with Yara because things were getting too serious for my liking ngl. Plus the idea that the four of them would all come together at the end for a much needed reunion made my happy bitchin heart soar.

Jungkook let out a laugh, his palm finding your cheek, eyes locked on your lips. You were preening for his kiss, mouth parting slightly as you anticipated it.

“Partners?”

The question took you by surprise, eyes widening at your not so pretend lover.

Idiot.

“Partners.” You smiled softly, eyes shiny and brimming with tears as he kissed you for what must have been the millionth time, but still somehow felt like the first.

UGH I LOVE THEM I REALLY DO. I was so happy with how this final scene came out :( They’re partners, they really are I miss these boneheads.

AND NOW, I PRESENT THE CANON FUTURE OF THE BITCHIN UNIVERSE...

10 YEARS LATER

Let’s be honest, Jungkook popped the question the day of graduation, he can’t imagine a life in which you wouldn’t be beside him

You said yes (shocker)

Cue Jungkook being the most wonderful partner and respecting your wish to finish your residency program before having the wedding

You absolutely kick ass at being a neonatal surgeon

Also, Jungkook started a film company! It’s small but he loves what he does and works with colleges and helps out the film majors with resources and equipment <3

SO IT'S THE DAY OF YOUR WEDDING RIGHT

Yara and your sisters are helping you get ready, with your best friend as the ever so reassuring maid of honor

And by that I mean you’re as calm as a cucumber and Yara is one wrong move away from having a stroke

“Y/N… Don’t freak out....The catering company put in two orders of shrimp instead of chicken and steak.”

“Yara, it’s okay.”

“NO ITS NOT???? THIS IS YOUR WEDDING DAY AND YOU’RE GETTING CRUSTACEANS.”

Y/N making Yara take a seat and practice some breathing exercises so she doesn’t upset the baby

Oh yeah, Yara is 10 weeks pregnant

Taehyung is the dad lol

Yara and Taehyung have been together ever since that day at the library hehe <3

They moved in together and adopted a cat and everything (sweet boy Tae wanted a dog but Yara’s afraid of dogs and Tae would do anything for that woman so Yeontan the cat it is)

Yara refuses to put a label on their relationship even after all this time, and Tae doesn’t ask for one. They’re happy and dedicated to each other and don’t feel the need to put pressure on something that’s already so perfect

Yara is actually violently in love with Tae but still scoffs when Y/N tries to bring it up

“Oh my god, you’re so in love with him”

“Huh??? you must be sick or something. Get well soon, damn :/”

Yara likes to come up with different labels for Taehyung every time she has to introduce him. Among her favorites are roommate, rent sharer, baby daddy and penis lender

Speaking of Taehyung, he’d have a hand on Jungkook’s shoulder as he tries to calm down the panicking groom to be

“JK, breathe.”

“What if she doesn’t show up? What if she doesn’t want to marry me? What if I pressured her into this and— and I’ve freaked her out and now she hates me?”

“Dude, you guys have been engaged for eight years. She’s had her opportunity to run. She’ll show up.”

Taehyung scruffing up the younger man’s hair reassuringly, which only flusters him more because DAMMIT he wants to look perfect for you and now his hair is messed up >:(

(You like him no matter what his hair looks like though)

Jungkook literally swallowing down a sob as you walk down the aisle and he lays his eyes on you for the first time

You having a dumb smile on your face the entire walk over because your husband to be is crying and you haven’t even exchanged vows yet

The entire audience going all sobby when you finally do exchange vows because they’re so beautiful and real

The ten years together has not been easy— from financial struggles as you tried to support yourself through med school, to personal conflicts when Jungkook wanted to start a family already

But you guys figured it out

You always do

He’s your person. And you are his.

Y/N’s sisters Rosa and Lia are a WRECK— even your dad is tearing up

Your family loves Jungkook and have been counting down the days until you guys married, let’s be honest

“You may now kiss the bride.”

Jungkook punching the air with a “FINALLY!” before kissing the hell out of you

The cutting of the cake inevitably turning into a food fight

The shrimp entrees turning out to be pretty damn good

Yara catching the bouquet and wagging her brows at Taehyung suggestively

Jungkook pulling you aside to take photos of you outside the venue because you look so so pretty and he loves the way you smile when he’s the one behind the camera

The party is in full session, your siblings tearing up the dance floor like the extroverts they are

You and Jungkook are sat at the head of the room, hands intertwined underneath the table as you watch a tired and painfully sober Yara swing her bare feet onto Taehyung’s lap, requesting a foot rub

Watching your pregnant best friend and her lover together, you turned towards your own, smile impossibly wide

“What?”

“Let’s have a baby.” You’d grin, so stupid happy

Jungkook’s eyes going round and immediately jumping up from his seat because god that’s all he’s ever wanted

Being tugged out the room by a giddy Jungkook, one of your heels flinging off somewhere behind you.

“What’s happening? Where are we going?!”

The two of you find yourself in a storage room somewhere on the hotel floor

“Jeon Jungkook, what the hell—“

His mouth find yourself, kissing you in a way that couldn’t at the altar

You kissed him back without questions, arms wrapping around the man you now called your husband

“I love you.” He’d sigh into your neck, his hot breath causing you to shiver

“I love you too.”

“Let’s make a baby.”

“Yeah let’s— wait, right here? Right now?!”

Jungkook merely nodding as his mouth found the exposed skin of your chest

“Meathead, we can’t just ditch our wedding to have sex!”

“Why not? We did our marital duties. Now it’s our guests' job to get embarrassingly drunk and make a fool of themselves on the dance floor. No one will even miss us.”

“Isn’t baby making what our honeymoon is for?”

“Screw that. I’ve done my waiting. Let’s start our family, nerd.”

Jungkook kissing your protests silent before you inevitably give in and let him take you right there and then, your wedding dress hung around your hips

Husband and wife coming together with shaky breaths and hushed moans as they promise the rest of their lives to each other, making every argument, struggle or moment of uncertainty leading up to now totally worth it

Walk of shame back into the party with nervous hair fixing from you and a proud grin from Jungkook

Yara figuring out exactly why you two had sneaked off to, flashing the newly weds a knowing smirk

The night of your wedding, Jungkook surprises you with a present

You unwrap it in confusion, only to see that it’s a glass frame and inside of it is the wrinkled and worn out lined paper the two of you had scribbled on many many years ago

Jungkook hangs up the contract right above your bed as per your request, smiling as he does and jumping on him the moment he puts down the hammer bc dammit it you’re too heckin excited to make love with your sentimental loser of a husband

And yes, by the next month, you are pregnant and incredibly happy

And of course, your daughter and Yara’s son grow up to be best friends, not a family holiday passing by where they aren’t told the story of the totally bitchin’ way both set of their parents got together

#beyond the story #bts smut #Jungkook smut #bts jungkook #bts #bts imagines #bts preferences #Jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook

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nevermindirah · 3 years

Text

Non-Jewish friends, y’all might be wondering right now: Israel is doing clearly unacceptable shit to Palestinians. So, why are some Jews ardent Zionists, and why do some Jews seem to feel personally attacked by criticism of Israel?

A lot of (non-Palestinian) non-Jews have asked me where I stand on Israel/Palestine over the years, apropos of nothing, just because I’m Jewish. For the longest time I felt so stuck because I just didn’t know much about Israel/Palestine and what little I did know turned out to be largely misinformation and I felt so much pressure to say The Correct Thing That All Jews Should Say About This Issue. Obviously the violence Israel is committing against Palestinians is horrific and the interpersonal weirdness individual Jews might experience as people discuss Israel’s horrific violence doesn’t compare. I’m making this post as a small supplement to the important conversations going on about what Israel is doing to Palestinians in East Jerusalem, Gaza, and the West Bank, as well as Palestinian citizens of Israel and Palestinian refugees and their descendants living outside land Israel controls. I’m making this post because non-Jews might be feeling confused by conflicting messages about Zionism as either settler colonialism or Jewish self-determination. It sucks feeling like you have to choose only one oppressed group or another. It’s possible to support Palestinian liberation and Jewish liberation at the same time! Here’s some context that might help.

Palestinian friends will probably want to ignore this post, y’all shouldn’t have to deal with your oppressors’ feelings, and especially not right now.

Zionism is the ideology behind the devastating violence Israel is committing against Palestinians right now and has been committing against Palestinians since 1947-48. It’s heartbreaking and messy to talk about this reality, because Zionism originated as a strategy to protect Jews from antisemitism.

Any oppressed group can turn into oppressors under enough pressure, because humans are flawed. Jews fleeing antisemitism turning into Israelis ethnically cleansing Palestinians happened because Zionism is profoundly influenced by its time and place of origin: 19th century Europe.

Europe invented antisemitism, and basically every European country has done at least one very very bad structural antisemitism, like expelling all the country's Jews (the monarch and/or the church then stole all the wealth the expelled people had to leave behind), looking the other way when peasants murdered a bunch of Jews as an outlet for their frustration with the actual (non-Jewish) ruling class, banning Jews from owning property or holding certain jobs or being members of guilds etc, and of course the big horrific state-sponsored mass-murder operations the Inquisition and the Holocaust. From the 1790s through the 19th century different European governments emancipated their Jews, ie removed legal barriers to full citizenship and economic participation. But this didn't end antisemitism. Just like the legal improvements of the 19th and 20th centuries didn't end antiblackness in the United States.

Also happening in this time: nationalism swept Europe. From the French Revolution through the end of World War I, Europe’s predominant form of government transformed from multiethnic empires to nation-states, countries led by and for a particular ethnic group.

So this Austro-Hungarian dude Theodor Herzl came up with this idea for Jewish nationalism. Every other European ethnic group is getting their own country, so why not Jews? Maybe this is the solution to antisemitism! Maybe we’ll finally be safe if we just all move en masse out of Europe to a place that will take all of us and never expel us!

But also also happening in Europe and around the world in this time: European imperialism and white supremacist settler colonialism. Chattel slavery saw its height and then its end (legally, at least) during this era, but white supremacy entrenched itself across the planet in post-slavery economic practices and cultural imperialism as well as national and international laws.

I believe countries have a moral obligation to take in as many refugees as they can squeeze in. International law protecting refugees has evolved a lot over the past century, but we’re still devastatingly far from every refugee getting a safe place to call home, and the main reason for that is white supremacy. The Biden administration didn’t undo the Trump administration’s horrifically low cap on refugees until like last week and it’s because Democratic party leaders treat centrist white people as more valuable voters than the huge and growing numbers of people of color, immigrants, LGBT people, unmarried women, and working class people who want to vote for elected leaders who get that nobody’s free until we’re all free. Ahem. Back to the topic at hand, the US and many other countries turned away untold numbers of refugees fleeing the fucking Holocaust, so odds are slim they’d be more welcoming in less desperate times. Moving from places where Jews are an unwanted minority to places where Jews are still a minority and either still unwanted or little understood and unlikely to win revolutionary levels of support from a largely non-Jewish public seems like a bad plan.

In the mid to late 19th century, lots of Jews took the kernel of Zionism and ran with it in different directions. Maybe this ideology could mean Jewish cultural flourishing alongside stronger political/economic integration into the societies where we’re already living! Maybe it could mean a particular kind of socialism that advocates for the liberation of Jews both as Jews and as workers! Maybe it could mean a revitalization of Jewish religious practice both in Jerusalem where we have important heritage sites and everywhere we live across the world!

Eventually Herzl’s vision of Zionism won out over the others: Jewish nationalism in the sense of a Jewish nation-state, a country that has a Jewish demographic majority and/or that legally privileges Jews over non-Jews.

Problem is, if you want to do that, you have to find a piece of land on which to do it, and Earth was already a pretty crowded place a hundred years ago. Many locations were considered, and the one that ended up winning that debate was Palestine. Where a shit ton of people, mostly non-Jews, were already living. They were forming their own nationalist movement at the time: in the waning days of the Ottoman Empire they began to organize for local self-determination in Palestine.

The Herzl types who developed Zionism as an ideology and built institutions to advocate for and create a Jewish ethnostate in Palestine were a small subset of European Jews, mostly men, mostly with significant economic privilege within what Jews were able to achieve in their particular societies at the time. They were just as Orientalist as the non-Jews around them, just as antiblack, just as racist generally for all that Jews were (and sometimes still are) considered non-white in much of Europe. They had a cool idea (put a lot of effort into something that could protect Jews from antisemitism) floating in a bathtub full of shit, and they did practically nothing to protect the cool idea from absorbing that shit. Results of this include thinking about the millions of people already living in Palestine as if they were either like the rocks and the trees that will go with the flow and accept a new ruling class, or indistinct Arabs who would just leave for other Arab countries because what could be the difference — in the staggeringly small amount of time they considered the existing residents of Palestine at all.

This racist hand-waving extended to Zionist leaders’ attitudes about Jews outside Europe as well. White Jews in settler colonies like the US were largely anti-Zionist at the time (not wanting their own countries to accuse them of dual loyalty was a common reason) but European Zionist leaders took what help they could get from Jews in the US, South Africa, Australia, etc. Jews across the Middle East and North Africa, however, barely heard from Zionist leaders about any of this until Zionist militias had removed enough Palestinians from the land and it was time to repopulate it with whichever Jewish bodies were convenient. You might have heard "all the Arab countries expelled their Jews in 1948" but lots of first-person accounts tell a different story of Israel coercing Jews who’d lived securely for a long time in places like Morocco to immigrate to Israel and then confiscating their passports and forcing them to live on less-fertile land with fewer resources while serving as a buffer between Palestinians and European Jewish immigrants. Ella Shohat is the best-known writer on Israeli racism against non-European Jews and I strongly recommend Sephardim in Israel: Zionism from the Perspective of Its Jewish Victims as a starting point to learn more about this.

Which brings us to today. We still haven’t eradicated antisemitism, several European governments that did a lot of structural antisemitism they still haven’t made meaningful reparations for get to feel good about themselves for “giving the Jews a state” as if carving up the former Ottoman Empire was up to them and not the people who lived there, and millions of people across the world who previously either lived peacefully enough alongside Jews or hadn’t really thought about us much at all now have very valid reasons to be pissed at this country that claims it represents all of us.

Zionism was supposed to protect Jews from antisemitism. And Israel has saved Jewish lives! But if we hadn’t sunk the past 70+ years into an ethnostate we could’ve been putting that energy into other political and economic activity to create adequate international support for refugees while we work on ending root causes of refugee crises, like antisemitism, racism, climate change, and capitalism. Meanwhile Zionism has killed, maimed, incarcerated, stolen from, traumatized, and erased the history of millions of Palestinians just because they happened to be living on land that some dudes who had a lot more in common with Thomas Jefferson and Donald Trump than with you or me decided needed to be cleansed for a Jewish ethnostate.

White nationalists in the US love Israel because they want American Jews to go away. Fascist leaders across Europe love Israel for the same reason, so much so that Israel’s prime minister is buddy-buddy with Trump and the equivalent shitstains of several European far-right parties. And I don’t know what it’s like in other white supremacist countries that are close allies of Israel, but the overwhelming majority of Zionist lobbying that pushes the US to give so much aid to Israel comes from Evangelical Christians, because they believe all the Jews have to be in the Holy Land for Jesus to come back. No thanks.

This whole thing fucking sucks. Jews and Palestinians, like all human beings, deserve to be free. Many Jews are understandably afraid of what might happen next if Israel decided to give up on ethnonationalism, allow Palestinian refugees to return, make reparations, and establish a pluralistic democracy that represents and protects all its residents — will some Palestinians murder Jews in revenge? That’s genuinely fucking scary. And it’s genuinely fucking scary to be a Palestinian in Israel/Palestine, and has been for over 70 years. We’ve gotta do something different. I say that as a white person sitting on land stolen from Piscataway people who has thought in detail about what portion of my income would be reasonable for my government to tax in order to fund reparations for the descendants of enslaved people.

Ok. One final piece of context before I wrap this up.

Most Jewish institutions in the US are explicitly Zionist, teach children that Zionism is THE way to ensure Jewish safety, and increasingly tell non-Zionist Jews that we're unwelcome or even that we’re not “real” Jews. This comes in a context where it’s only been 76 years since the latest and most gruesome of several attempts to wipe our entire people off the face of the planet. If you grew up in that environment, you, too, might be jumpy about even hearing the words Zionism or Israel, let alone considering the devastation this ideology and country have caused Palestinians.

Jews have a right to exist. Jews have a millennia-old connection to this scrap of land in the Levant, and we have a right to access religiously and culturally important geographic landmarks. What we don't have a right to is murdering or expelling other people in order to make an ethnostate, on that land or any other. Zionism is settler colonialism, but it’s settler colonialism by and for people who have a valid need for protection from structural antisemitism, which means that it’s going to take a lot of messy empathy to undo. The members of my extended family who voted for Trump (non-Jews in my case, though Jared Kushner isn’t the only Jewish Trumpite) are afraid that ending white supremacy will demote them from a privileged class to equal footing with everyone else — that’s the kind of fear individuals work on in therapy, not the kind that’s reasonable for a whole society to prevent from happening. I and millions of Jews do deserve for whole societies to work hard to end antisemitism.

I would never and will never ask a Palestinian to gently request their liberation. But if you’re not Palestinian, and you’ve got a little extra empathy to spare this week, I ask you to remember what I’ve shared here when interacting with Jews about Israel/Palestine.

If you’re a fellow Jew reading this and you feel like Israel is the only way to guarantee our safety, all I ask of you is to sit with the idea that what Israel is doing to Palestinians is too high a cost for safety that’s still not guaranteed, and start to imagine real-world ways we can protect our people from antisemitism without an ethnostate.

I made this post for people who know me (or know of me I guess?) in Old Guard and Cap fandom, despite my better judgment, because talking about Jewish Booker and Jewish Bucky and Jewish Natasha makes me so happy and I think some of the people I love on these characters with might appreciate this perspective. I didn’t provide any links in this post on purpose (to decrease its usefulness, so fewer people will reblog it) because the risk of anon hate when talking about Zionism outside my immediate fandom circles is so high. You’re welcome to reblog this post if you find it helpful! Unless you’re not within a few concentric circles of me, in which case, maybe don’t? If seeing this post makes you want to send me anon hate, no need: many people who share your perspective have already done so on Twitter.

Reliable sources on all this info are a few googles away, and I apologize for the things I know I oversimplified as well as any things I might have misremembered. I’m an American who’s never lived in Israel/Palestine who is posting this on my fandom blog.

TL;DR: This is a short ‘n pithy post about the same idea.

TL;DR, fandom edition: The shortest distillation of this anti-Zionist Jew’s feelings on the matter can be found in segment 4 of Five Times Booker Got Wasted on Purim and One Time He Didn’t.

#palestinian liberation #hi i'm an antizionist jew no i don't really want to talk about it #and yet #here we are #long post #mine #antisemitism #settler colonialism #racism #european imperialism #genocide cw

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bondsmagii · 3 years

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Hey read (some of) this blog post (long as hell), tries to pick it up where your old scp cult post left off: lackoflepers medium com/scp-is-not-a-cult-196e87ce6b11

(link)

this is insane. I've never written anything that's ever received a full response before, so that's exciting. what's even more exciting is that this piece does raise some really interesting questions, and is very well-written and thoughtful.

the strange thing is, I think we're both in agreement -- but I'm calling it a cult, and the author of this piece is calling it a "fledgling religion". I agree with this outlook, if I'm honest -- but at the same time I can't help but think that this has filled a hole in my cult theory, rather than poked a hole in it.

when I wrote the original cult post, the one thing I couldn't quite equate was the religion aspect. there was a lot of things to consider from that aspect, in terms of cults requiring a certain doctrine, rituals, etc, and while I was able to draw comparisons to the site culture and these things, it didn't quite fit. this article explains and illustrates exactly what all of these things are, and the sheer amount of similarities between the SCP wiki culture and religious fundamentalists. it's absolutely incredible, how it all still adds up.

however, some things are way off. I understand the author has a history with site and with staff, and they obviously understand that there's a complicated relationship between the two. the piece certainly tackles the question from an educated site-critical standpoint, but I can't help but notice some glaring omissions and in some places, assumptions which I feel are quite simply incorrect. under the cut we go, because this is long.

the author seems to be very ignorant of the site's cyclical patterns. one of their main arguments for the wiki's not being a cult is how people like Dr Gears and thedeadlymoose don't have more power over the masses, being such important figures. the problem with the wiki is that it is very cyclical, and big names of one era do not translate over to new eras. big names replace old ones, and the old ones either become fond grandparent figures (like Gears, who had the sense to take a step back before the tides changed against him) or they become irrelevant or reviled (like thedeadlymoose, or pixelatedharmony (Roget).) this means that if the former appeals to the group, they will get essentially a pat on the head and a gentle dismissal, or if the latter speak out they will be silenced, harassed, banned, etc. this is very cultlike behaviour -- if somebody goes against the grain, they become an immediate enemy of the people. the only way to survive fame on the wiki is to retire quietly, at your peak, and keep yourself to yourself.

going on from this, there are also different levels to how a staff member is seen. there have been eras of the site where the site admin might not be as impressive as one of the prolific writers, for example. who these days knows about The Administrator? it's all Dr Gears to them. different authors have different levels of unofficial authority, and the author of the piece doesn't seem to realise that it's a cult of personality as much as anything else. there are constant divisions among staff, even if they present a united front; frequently those not toeing the party line have been ostracised or purged, and this filters down to the average user. just because a person is on staff does not mean they immediately skyrocket to godhood, if we're using the religious metaphor. this is why it seems as though "staff" as a whole isn't uniformly worshipped -- they're not. there are complex currents of power at work here, and it's frustrating because at first glance it seems to invalidate the very real fact that a few site members have all the authority. the staff worship extends to staff members. those in lower tiers will act similarly to those in higher tiers as a new member would act towards all staff.

the author draws attention to thedeadlymoose's impressive efforts to bring the site forward from its 4chan beginnings and make it more inclusive to LGBT members -- something that has undoubtedly had an effect. however, the author does not mention that to date, the site's only successful splinter site (as in, a site that lasted more than a few weeks) is RPC, and while this website came about for multiple reasons, it's undeniable that one of these reasons was because of the fact that the wiki was openly supportive of LGBT people during Pride Month. it's also interesting to note that the author is also a member of the RPC site, so it's odd that this piece of the site's origins is not mentioned.

the acceptance of these pro-LGBT policies also seems to be less wide-spread than the author believes -- most people don't care, there does exist users who are homophobic or transphobic, and -- something I'm surprised wasn't mentioned at all in the piece -- when LGBT members of the site spoke up and said the new logo made them feel pandered to, and the resulting blowout made them feel targeted and unsafe, they were mass banned from the subreddit by a rogue moderator who, incensed by the fact his authority was so challenged, then ragequit and abused people on the threads for several hours. this is a typical staff response to discontent in the masses. so yes, thedeadlymoose did have some significant sway in the attitude changing somewhat, but it was not as widespread (nor as cared about) as the article's author seems to think.

now, I shall move on to specific quotations.

Furthermore, as a gaggle of creators, SCP should never feature the mass conformity of thought that defines a cult; theirs is an ecosystem that predicates itself upon creation, and obsessively on the new and original — that is to say, the different (but tempered).

while the author does elaborate on this idea of creativity and conformity, this is just wrong. again, I blame the author's ignorance in regards to the cyclical nature of the site -- which isn't the fault of the author, in my opinion. such cycles are slow, measuring out in years rather than months, which is insanely long for an internet community. in order to notice them, you would have to have been observing for some time -- which I have been. since I have been observing the site (which has been since its very creation -- I was on the 4chan thread in 2007 when 173 was created and I have seen the wiki from its infancy on EditThis over to wikidot) I have seen this happen countless times. a type of writing, be it style or genre, takes off. it could be LOLFoundation, grimdark, whatever -- it takes off, it runs the site for a year or so, and then it crashes and burns. when it takes off, there are rules for writing it that must be obeyed lest you be downvoted to oblivion. as the attitude turns against it, those who still write it are vilified and ostracised, and the new one takes over. there have been mass purges in the past, and there has always been, since the wiki's inception, conformity of thought. one of my oldest complaints about the wiki is that, for a site full of writers, they have no imagination and absolutely no desire to step out of the approved style.

To put it very broadly, things get accustomed to the status quo in a highly regulated environment, and get better at simply remaining and surviving in that.

this could be a decent rebuff to my previous point, but the fact is that while the SCP wiki harbours cultish behaviour, a vast majority of the users are casual readers who maybe write one or two articles. the stagnation is, at least partially, because of the fact that most users sign up, read some articles, think "cool, I have an idea for one!", write it -- and have it emulate the articles they've read, thus sounding similar in tone and content to the rest of the recent articles -- get a semi-decent response if lucky, and then move on after a few months or years.

the people who power the wiki, however -- who are prolific, who churn out insane amount of articles -- are suffering from what I outlined in my above point. a small percentage of the wiki dictates the direction it goes. it has always been like this -- and people who go against the grain that staff have employed, be it old user or new, will pay for it. this payment is often in downvotes, but occasionally comes in harassment, bans, or deletions, too.

Lastly a cult is really the most extreme version of a religion, it is a religion on steroids.

this is straight-up incorrect. cults began as religions gone hayware, yes, but the idea of a cult as a Jonestown-style compound in the middle of nowhere is outdated. cults are the most extreme version of an ideology -- be it religious, political, or otherwise. they are ideologies on steroids. thanks to the internet, they also no longer have to be in real life spaces. you can be in a social cult on Twitter or on Discord; you can be in a cult of ideology on an incel forum or in a social circle of TERF blogs. all of these things are cults. they have cult-like behaviour and thinking.

this is where the author proves my point beyond all doubt. the author says the following about the wiki's increasingly left-wing inclusive policies:

What was intended to be an executive extension in peace has, due to the force required to counteract the sheer hostility and persecution once leveled at this group at its peak, instead overshot its mark and has become a brutal bureaucratic sanctioning of political identity. (I can hear someone saying that the road to hell is paved with good intentions.)

the biggest shift in this cult-think, for me, was observed when the shift towards Terminally Online Woke Left attitudes began to be increasingly observed. I'm not talking about getting people to tone down the homophobia and whatnot. I'm talking about this culture of purity and suffering that the author outlines very well in the article; if you have read the article, I needn't go over it again. the wiki now holds a monopoly on suffering using the same kind of Oppression Olympics as other spaces devoted to purity culture -- and purity culture is a cult. this is straight-up fact at this point. it is my belief that staff identified the power available to them in a) targeting people from oppressed and vulnerable groups and giving them a so-called safe space and b) using their various oppressions to their advantage.

something that is prolific in purity culture circles is that somebody who is oppressed in any way cannot be held to blame for their actions. they cannot be a bad person. this is ideological armour, and staff wields it. they also use purity culture and apparently progressive ideology to shut down anyone who dissents, and to smear their name and have then ostracised as an enemy. why do they do this? liking the power and fame of their position is a big part of it, as the author outlined, but something major is missing.

throughout the entire article, the author does not once mention the detailed and extensive history of staff sexually abusing minors on the site.

this is well-documented by this point. staff has seen many predators in its ranks, including one of the most prolific site members of all time -- AdminBright, or The Duckman. staff has known about these staff members and has covered it up over years. I myself have heard testimony from countless victims, but whenever we raise enough of a stink, a staff member does an "internal investigation" and nothing comes of it. the fact that the cult-like behaviour of this website can be discussed without one of the cornerstones of cult activity -- using its members for financial or sexual gain -- is astounding to me.

to go on from this, there is also no mention of the SCP lawyer fund, which raised over $30,000 and then faced staff actively resisting transparency as to the case and the funds. financial manipulation is another major example of cult behaviour.

without acknowledging these two things, I do not think that a full argument against the idea of the SCP wiki as a cult can be possible.

the author raises a good point that illustrates both why staff acts the way it does, and why the users are so eager to imitate:

The answer is something that can turn someone into their nemesis; something that would make someone sell their soul for 1000 upvotes; that tragic commonality that binds all individuals who feel the need to write; the need to be received, but more, to be loved for it.

this is a big reason why staff clings to its power, and why people sell out their creativity, and why people emulate this behaviour, and why prolific authors burn out so fast. however, running through all of this at its core -- through the need to be received and loved -- is the power that comes with it. this is all about power.

to mention the specific example of LordStonefish, and his reaction when he found out that his interviewer was enemy of the people pixelatedharmony, now of "burning out, ragequitting the site, and going to talk shit on KiwiFarms" infamy:

[...] it was as if LSF was speaking to a leper, and that the ongoing participation in the salvation of public approval (not to mention site participation as well) was directly dependent upon LSF’s rebuke of pH as a demon who is only worthy of a terrible fate and, as we see in the screencaps, even death.

leaving my personal opinions on Harmony out of this, going from a perfectly civil interview to finding out that the interviewer was an enemy and not only dumping all of his private information to offset doxing, but also going into detail about some highly personal stuff for shock value... I don't think Harmony quite required that treatment. the fact is that, as the quote outlines above, the only way to ensure that he wouldn't be completely ostracised for fraternising with the enemy (KiwiFarms -- of which Harmony is apparently the ambassador) was to behave like a man shunning a sinner. Harmony has sinned -- she rejected the status quo, she defied the group and its authority, and LordStonefish, in order to remain safe from being tarred with the same brush -- has to react with suitable horror to her presence.

it should be noted here that while KiwiFarms has a reputation for being a hive of scum and villainy, its main reputation regarding the SCP Wiki has been for being the one place where complaints against the site are openly discussed, often by defected staff members such as pixelatedharmony and Cyantreuse, and perhaps most telling of all -- the place where a lot of accounts of sexual harassment and abuse have been filed. staff rails against it on the grounds of it being filled with people who use slurs and have questionable ideological beginnings (ironic, coming from a website which began on 4chan) -- but as a leftist myself with extensive knowledge of the wiki, I can confirm that no criticisms I've seen on there have been unfair or inaccurate, and in fact a lot of the evidence and testimony posted there is damning. it would be fair to not wish to associate with the site because of its content in other places, or even its past reputation, but the fact staff rail against it so hard when it's currently one of the only places (and certainly the only public place) where their deeds are on display? it's interesting.

of LordStonefish's reaction, the author says:

This is the behavior of a deeply religious figure.

it is. this is the reaction of a Mormon meeting an old friend who has left the church. this is the reaction of a Jehovah's Witness crossing the street to avoid a shunned neighbour. it is the behaviour, you could say, of a cult member.

in the conclusion, the author states:

And if anyone is to shoulder blame for the creation of this pathology and its complex, it are those true bigots of history and today, who don’t have the spiritual maturity to understand that someone’s sexual preference or identity shouldn’t be enough to categorically separate them from a definition of humanity; to beat, maim, and wish death upon them.

perhaps this might have been true, perhaps this might have drawn a thoughtful and damning line under the whole affair, if not for the fact that this behaviour has been occurring since long before the internet became known for its progressive and now increasingly often, ridiculous takes on inclusion and sensitivity. this kind of cultish groupthink has been ongoing since the wiki's very first inception. the cyclical worship of a group of staff members and other prolific writers (though the group are often one and the same) and their chosen theme or genre has occurred like clockwork since the late 00s. it has occurred when the website was still entrenched in its 4chan days and saying slurs was barely blinked at. it was still there back when staff was predominantly (or at least presumably) cis, white, and male. it was there when being gay was the butt of a joke and being trans was all but unthought of. it has always been there, and while the latest progressive policies and attitudes have had an effect on how the power is wielded, it has not changed the power itself. if the tides ever turn on the Terminally Online Woke ideology, staff will change with it and adapt their policies and ideologies to keep their power.

if anyone is to shoulder the blame for the creation of this pathology, it is the elitist attitude that has allowed a select few to be worshipped unquestionably. it is the power-hungry individuals who seek out fame and respect on a writing website and then use this fame and respect to treat others badly and their fear of a fall from grace to shelter others treating people worse. it is on the shoulders of the staff members who use their position to groom and sexually assault minors. it is on the shoulders of the staff members who keep it silent. as the severity of staff's secrets has increased, so has their attempts to silence dissent and reform at all costs.

the author agrees that this kind of religious think might lead to a cult in the future. the author says the cult will be a cult of vulnerability, but I disagree. I believe the cult is already there, and it is -- and always has been -- a cult of power.

#scp shenanigans #anon #asks

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fruitless-nonsense · 3 years

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Hello again! A bit of a delay I know, had some personal life stuff, but I’m back babey!

Firstly, I want to say Happy Pride Month! ❤️🧡💛💚💙💜 I myself have only recently come out, but to all my peeps in the lgbtq+ community I wish you a month of celebration.

For the topic, I chose one that has been circling in my brain since some asks last week gave me a revelation: I will be discussing kolvina, and more specifically the direction the writers chose for a one Davina Claire.

This ship has always been an anomaly to me, like when it was happening on my screen I was in denial that it was happening at all, and the perceptions on this site have only fueled that feeling. I’ve been watching these communities for a few years now, and the general consensus is people both love and hate this ship, and both sides seem to be equal in numbers. So what is my opinion on kolvina? Well after much deliberation I have decided that.... I don’t like it, and here’s why!

First thing’s first, I want to say I understand this ship better than any other ship in both shows, honestly if the characters acted differently it would’ve been a lot better. The dynamic is there (and I know how important that is to people), not just a trope, but between both characters it works! Let me explain, starting with Kol. Season two goes into depth on his insecurities with his family and how lonely it made him feel over the years. I mean, the show always potrayed the big three: Klaus, Elijah, and Rebekah with the strongest bonds and while Finn chooses to exclude himself (for valid reasons tbh) Kol even in the vampire diaries wanted to be a part of that. The problem is (for some reason that is never explained) his siblings don’t care about him. The easiest example is how they reacted to his death, Rebekah was upset for a minute and Elijah didn’t even seem affected at all, the closest I can say is Klaus was angered and didn’t forget for a while, but as soon as the originals started nothing. Then we have his second death where Klaus takes the only opportunity to bring him back off the table and the only one who seeks to try is Rebekah, meanwhile Elijah is nowhere to be found in this department. This finally brings us to Davina. As much of an issue as this is (and we’ll talk about it later), Davina seems to be the first person to ever put Kol first. When he dies a second time, Davina’s number one priority is his resurrection and goes to incredible lengths to do so. I know people say it’s unrealistic for Kol to take interest in a mortal, but it makes sense to me, she’s a witch. From what we learn, Kol has a soft spot for witches cause he yearns for the power that was taken from him by his mother, which doesn’t even go into Davina herself being a rebel like him who paved her own way. Onto Davina’s feelings towards him, Kol’s the only person in her life that is there unconditionally. I know Marcel loves her, but his loyalty to his family clearly comes into conflict with his loyalty to his other family, including her. Klaus either ruins her life or demands things from her. Cami was there for her, but they scrapped that relationship after season one. When Kol is by her side, it’s not cause he needs things from her, nor is he there as some kind of protection. In season two, Davina had a plan and Kol’s response was “okay, I can assist you with that.” Side note, I really liked their friendship in season two before they of course made it something more. Regardless of the past, all of this material would’ve made for a pretty great relationship, but it fell flat, why did that happen?

I have two reasons for why I could never get on board with them. The first is the most obvious: it’s the age difference for me. I know we had Damon and Elena and Klaus and Caroline, but for kolvina the vibe was weirder. Perhaps because Davina acts more childish than them in season one, or because our image of her was young and sweet. It might also have to do with Kol referring to being Kaleb as the body of a teenager making him seem way older than he probably is. I know by season three Davina is 18, but that feeling never goes away for me. This was my hesitance in season two, but as a friendship those two were pretty fun together (might be an unpopular opinion). The problems start in season three.

The second reason is something that the community has kind of dipped into, but not enough. I don’t know if I’m not looking hard enough, but every complaint for kolvina in season three talk only about how insufferable Kol was, which yeah definitely, but honeys he’s only half the problem. Not even halfway through season two Davina stopped being a character. Remember her in season one? A bright spitfire who wasn’t afraid to speak up at the injustice of the Mikaelson’s even if it put her at risk? The girl who showed up Klaus on multiple occasions? Who stood for Josh, Marcel, Cami, and anyone else being pushed around by Klaus? The girl who was powerful, yet kind? A powerhouse set up on a warpath against the Mikaelson’s for season two? I remember her! She was one of my favorite characters because of how badass she was while still keeping her agency. I don’t blame you if you forgot she’s never talked about, and that’s because of what follows. Season two starts off well, with Davina standing her ground against the wolves and keeping Mikael under control showed she wasn’t completely in over her head. Her plan is to find a way to de-sire Klaus’ sireline so she doesn’t kill Marcel and Josh which shows she’s smart and thinking ahead. Then she meets Kaleb, and it goes downhill from there. I get that Davina is supposed to be a naive teenage girl, but that doesn’t excuse after she finds out Kaleb is really Kol. After her Mikael plan fell through her backup plan is to just sit around until Kol shows her the room and tells her about the dagger. With what she’s trying to accomplish it’s a smart plan, but that doesn’t mean her sudden trust in Kol is any less stupid. Her first thought when he’s gone with the stake is to assume he took it and left, so if she thought he was capable of that, why did she drop her guard in the first place? Gets me frustrated. When Kol dies Davina also completes the dagger and for the rest of the season does nothing with it, she does nothing period but whine about Kol with everyone she interacts with which is annoying considering how much she was a part of in season one. That was bad, but the worst is yet to come. Season three gives her a storyline as a ruler of the witches before immediately ending it, and when you look at what they threw away it’s even worse. So Davina gets Hayley to kill one of her detesters and it ends in a bloodbath and the son vows justice for his mom (which is completely valid), and Marcel hints at her turning into Klaus. This is promising, in this scenario Davina is Klaus holding power over the powerless, and Van Nguyen is Davina taking a stand. Very interesting, until she gets shunned in the seventh episode. What was the point? The next time we see her she is distraught at her current predicament, but not because she’s cut off from her people and her ancestors because now she doesn’t have the power to bring Kol back (of course it’s for no other reason). I just don’t understand why Davina was relegated to a side character in the later seasons after all she did in season one. They couldn’t have cut anything else from 3a (Tristan and Aurora perhaps, they were so boring)? Finally, we have her characterization after she resurrected Kol, nothing. She does nothing but wait in the wings for Kol to finish helping his family, a family she hated and had every right to. She either does nothing, or is only around to help with Kol’s sudden curse, and yet Kol is supposed to be worse. I know, I know, the big bad Kol Mikaelson became a lost puppy chasing after Davina, but so was she. They were just as bad as each other, two puppies chasing the tail of the other. Then she died, to push forward the plot around her. If you think that’s treating her like a plot device, let’s fast forward to season four. Davina Claire, harvest girl, rebellious teen, former queen regent of New Orlean witches, is a piece of leverage to control Kol. I’m done. There’s not much to say about season five, she only shows up to spout information and that’s about it.

It’s a sad end that Davina doesn’t even get an epilogue in the finale (I mean I have many problems with the finale regardless but I digress). Our only conclusion is that she lives happily ever after with her immortal boyfriend. Oh yeah! They never explain that caveat. She’s a mortal witch who will eventually die of old age, and he’s an original. I’m either supposed to assume Davina becomes a vampire (which would be the most out of character thing for her to do considering she hates vampires and loves her magic), which would mean women making personal sacrifices while the man doesn’t have to give up a thing (such a wonderful lesson we keep telling young women), or Kol became mortal by maybe also taking the cure with Rebekah (which makes a bit more sense since we know Kol misses doing magic). The point is, we don’t know, cause they don’t explain anything.

Look Davina wasn’t the perfect character, but she deserved so much better than what she became, and the worst part is this is barely talked about. Like I said, when people hate on kolvina, they approach it from “they ruined Kol!” And not really mentioning Davina. You’ll notice I mention Kol’s characterization, but I’m not going in depth. That’s cause you can easily find a more articulated response on how they did Kol dirty without having to look too hard, but Davina? She needs all the shoutouts she can get. Cami is overhated, and Davina is ignored. That’s two female regulars in the cast being treated terribly by the community and I will not stand for it! I wanna see Davina Claire deserves better cause she did.

To wrap up a very long post, we need to talk about Davina more, when I said season three was better than tvd I wasn’t referring to 3a, justice for the women of the originals, happy pride month, I’ll try to post more frequently.

#davina claire #anti kolvina #kol mikaelson #the originals #season 3a is wasted opportunity period #Davina Claire deserves better #she really does #women of the originals #klaus mikaelson #elijah mikaelson #rebekah mikaelson #finn mikaelson #the mikaelsons #marcel gerard #wasted female friendships

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mymelodyheart · 3 years

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Miles Between Us Chapter 7 ~All In A Day's Work~

WARNING: MILD SEXUAL CONTENT

Previously in A Wrinkle of Time

"You have my blessings. Conditions are, there should be once a week phone-calls. Video or facetime ones or whatever you call it. And when I'm on British soil ..."

Jamie suddenly straightened up on his seat. "We'll visit, or ye can come and stay with us."

Quentin shot up on his feet. "Very well then, welcome to the family, Fraser. Go and get your dinner ...you wouldn't want your wife ..." he coughed, his face turning red. "...I mean your girlfriend reheating what she's just lovingly made."

Jamie got up as well, ready to shut the laptop, relief and confusion at the sudden turn around washing over him in waves. What the fuck just happened? Too bewildered for words, "Of course," was all he could muster.

Quentin hesitated, as if in search of the right words, his throat working overtime. When he finally spoke, Jamie couldn't help but hear the emotion in the older man's voice. "If Claire's father was alive today, he would think his daughter has made a fine choice."

His jaw dropped involuntarily. "He would?"

If you wish to read this on AO3, here is the link.

If you wish to read this from the beginning:

AO3 link

Tumblr link

Claire sat at her desk in her newly built writing studio, contemplating what to do about Thomas Christie next. For the past couple of days, she'd attempted to reach the elusive blogger by all means of communication: phone calls, email, comments on his posts and private messages in his Instagram and blog account. But her efforts, to her frustration, were to no avail. She'd even asked around the village for information on his whereabouts, but each answer led to nowhere. Though he had a resident address, it's quite apparent he wasn’t in. She'd thought of asking Jamie for help but decided not to. It was her project, and she's determined she would accomplish it with her own research skills.

Sighing, she leaned back against her seat and stared at the ceiling. Her boss, John, was counting on her to convince Christie to publish with Dreamweaver Publishing, and so far, she had nothing to show. Looking out the window facing the open fields, her gaze settled on the tractor bumpily navigating a small ragged lane, the rumbling of the engine soundless. She smiled. True to his words, Jamie had more than adequately soundproofed her workspace, shutting out any distracting noise. But with no sign of life from Christie, her work had been brought to a standstill.

Ah, hell! Claire glanced at the time. It was already mid-morning, and she'd been sat there staring blankly at Christie's blog all morning. What to do, what to do? She switched tabs on her browser and looked at his Instagram account, and realised he'd just posted a photo circa a minute ago. She decided to strike while he was online and send a message. Go for it, Beauchamp! With huge calming breaths, she rolled her shoulders and began to type, her fingers flying over the keyboard.

Hello Mr Thomas Christie. My name is Claire Beauchamp from Dreamweaver Publishing Company, London. I have been trying to reach you for the last couple of days to offer you a proposal that may be of interest to you. Some time ago, we came across your blog, and after having read through the content, we've come to realise it has an enormous potential to become the ultimate guidebook to the Scottish Highlands in print. Your knowledge, passion, and enthusiasm for Scotland and your keen eye for photography have captured the public interest, our company and myself included. We'd love to assist you in reaching your highest potential and expanding an even broader following should you be interested in authoring a book. I will be in Broch Mordha for the next few days if you wish to speak to me in person, and I will be more than delighted to explain the details. Any feedback you can give me at this point would be highly appreciated. Best regards, Claire.

Thinking Christie would appreciate the option, she included her phone number and her professional email address and then clicked send. After going over her message, she randomly liked his posts and commented on a recent photo for good measure, hoping it would be enough to get his attention. Oh, please answer this time!

Satisfied for now she'd done everything she could, she decided to make a coffee. She was just about to get up when her phone rang, making her jump in the process. Oh, sweet Mother of God! She must be more on edge than she thought. Clearing her throat, she gingerly tapped the answer button on her screen.

"Hello?" she squeaked. Damn it! I sound weird.

"Miss Beauchamp?" a deep, heavily accented voice answered. "Thomas Christie here."

"Mr Christie! You called!"

"Please, call me Tom. I'm no' much for convention and formalities. May I call ye Claire? If that's alright."

"Of course," she smiled, regaining back some semblance of composure. She'd already prepared a presentation in her head, but looking back now, it sounded like a pitch from a realtor selling a million-pound property. She reminded herself, Thomas Christie was a nature buff and liked to live an uncomplicated life, if not minimally, when travelling around Scotland in his restored Westfalia Volkswagen Camper. If she'd learned anything from his posts, it was that he wouldn't be easily persuaded with a promise of fame and monetary gain. There's no option but to start improvising.

"I heard a pretty lass was looking for me," he drawled with a hint of amusement in his voice. "I was informed ye were asking around. At first, I thought ye might have been from the council trying to get hold of me because of my unpaid council taxes. If that had been the case, I would have made an exception and come and paid my dues after seeing the photo my mate has taken of ye. Shame it wasn't a better close-up."

"Photo?"

"Aye, photo. My mate took it when ye werenae looking and sent it to me. Ye are bonnie, I must admit."

"Oh!" Holy, is he flirting? Claire wouldn't be surprised. This man's charms had drawn quite a lot of female fans to his site, and it was apparent that he's attempting to weave it on her. He probably thrived in his devotees' admiration, making him aware of his own appeal. This kind of cocksure behaviour wasn't a novelty, so she ignored the teasing but attempted to maintain a fairly laidback attitude. "Well, as you can see, I'm not from the council. And if I were, I wouldn't be making a noise about it now, would I?"

He laughed out loud. "You're right. So, what can I do for ye, Claire?"

"Have you read my message?"

"I have," he said quietly. "But I want to hear from ye why ye think my blog would be good enough to be published."

"Well, as I said, your passion and enthusiasm for Scotland are very apparent in your writing. Your words are ... how shall I say it, so visceral. But I'm not going to lie, though. We would need to make a lot of adjustments before we could present it to the mass. A bit of tweaking here and there and ..."

"Tweaking? I thought ye liked my work as it is?"

"Oh, I do," she said hurriedly. "You misunderstood. We wouldn't want to take the essence out of your writing. It's just a process every book has to go through before it's published. Like polishing your sentences, making them smooth and clear, ensuring that they don't have unnecessary phrases and repetition. And of course, there's the design and typesetting ...oh, well, that's for much later on. It's all standard drill in the publishing process."

"I see ..."

When a long silence lapsed, she checked her phone screen to make sure they were still connected.

"Tom?"

"Aye, I'm still here." He took a huge deep breath. "And what's yer role in this, Claire?"

"I'm the editorial assistant for Dreamweaver, and I'm here to make this proposal and answer all your questions."

"Right ...Weel, ye see, this is my concern. I'm an avid book reader, and while I'm pleased with all the attention my online journal is getting, I highly doubt that my writing would make it among the best selling list, let alone would anyone, for that matter, be too giddy with excitement to buy it. So what's all the fuss?"

The ambiguity in his voice wasn't lost on her. He may be this self-assured, nature-loving, nonconformist bloke as he'd portrayed on his online travel journal. But clearly, some of that attitude needed to rub off on his self-belief for his art.

"Oh, but that's where you're mistaken," she reassured. "My boss, John Grey, is totally sold with the idea of your adventure stories around Scotland, and he thinks with the proper structural development, design and marketing, it would be a hit. Especially with your fans. The concept is refreshing, and it would be different from any travel guides out there. And besides, it would be an excellent boost for Scottish tourism."

He made some muffled noise and then cleared his throat. "What about ye?"

"What about me?"

"Are ye sold on the idea of my blog?"

Part of John's faith in this book's promising prospect clung to Tom's admirable physical qualities. But for her, that wasn't the main selling point.

She straightened up from her seat and leaned over her laptop. With a flick of her wrist, she brought her computer to life and right there on the screen was his Instagram account. She remembered John's words, Sell him the dream! But she didn't need reminding. Tom may not be the most proficient writer, but his contents were great, especially the picturesque panorama photos. She read a few snippets of his post and smiled.

"Tom ...this opportunity Dreamweaver is offering you would be great exposure for your travel journal. By publishing it in print, you'll be able to reach a broader audience. Your knowledge of this wonderful place is beyond incredible from flora to fauna, the lands' history, the weather phenomenon that can only be termed as typically Scottish ...the whole package is simply amazing. Your passion and enthusiasm for this place make me want to go on that adventure you so love …" She inhaled deeply, searching for the right words. "And I know deep in my guts your future readers would feel the same way. And that's what a great travel book should do, great adventure stories that inspire readers and challenge them to step outside the comfort zone ...even for a little while. This is the kind of book that could encourage people to explore, make them realise that escape from the daily drudgery doesn't mean expensive trips halfway around the world, and that adventure can be found in one's own backyard or a few miles trip down the road. I say you should share this with the world. And to answer your question ...yes, I'm totally sold."

She was out of breath by the time she finished, so she leaned back on her seat and crossed her fingers, hoping for a positive outcome. It was all now down to Tom. She didn't want to push, but the longer the silence between them went on, the more she felt like she was forcing him into a snap decision.

Ah, hell! "Look, Tom, there's no need to decide right now. You have my number. Why don't you think about it for now and call me up when you've made a decision. How about that?"

"I have a better idea. How about we discuss this further in person before I decide? Let's say ...over a dinner date?" he suggested in a low voice.

The word date resounded loudly in her ear. Oh, dear, God!

She needed to play this right without making it look like she was turning him down. Hoping for the best, she laughed nervously. "Of course, it only seems fair to meet first in person before you decide." She swallowed hard and squeezed her eye shut. "But I would hardly call it a date. We can meet at the Inn's pub in the village square and professionally discuss everything over lunch if that's alright. And just to be clear, I already have a boyfriend."

"Ah, damn!"

She flinched. "Oh, dear!"

He laughed. "Relaxed, Claire. I get it. Ye're taken, and I'm no' surprised. But ye cannae blame a lad for trying, could ye?"

"N-no, of course not ..."

"So business lunch it is then. I'm away for a few more days, so ye have to wait a bit more. I'll give ye a ring when I get back. How's that?"

Yess! She made an effort not to sound too relieved. "That's perfect, Tom! I'll see ye in a few days!"

"Great!" Then the line went dead.

She let out a massive sigh of relief. So damn close! Feeling elated at the outcome of their conversation, she shot to her feet and did a happy dance. She couldn't wait to call John and tell him everything. If she did her work well and laid out all the finer details of the publishing process and projected outcome, she knew Tom wouldn't be able to turn down the proposal. Invigorated, she immediately went back to work and began typing her outline. Ah, life is good!

..........

Jamie killed the chainsaw engine and pulled down his safety goggles when he caught sight of Jenny's car approaching. He had a bird's eye view of the driveway from the tree and could see everyone's coming and going. What the bloody hell is she doing here? She didn't usually come to job sites; nevertheless, he decided to come down since it was nearly lunch break. Wondering why her visit couldn't wait until work was done for the day, he gripped on to his harness and made a slow descent.

His sister got out of the car, stopping to greet some of the workers and subtly launching glares at him. Alertness immediately snapped in Jamie's shoulders as he realised something was up.

He dropped to the ground, his work boots landing on a combination of mulch and wood chips debris. As he laid down his chainsaw, he watched his sister approach and noticed the forced smile she had for the workers a few seconds ago, waning from her face. He braced himself as he waited for her to say something, unease slithering like a snake up his spine. This was definitely not a friendly visit.

"What's this I hear, ye havenae been attending therapy?" she hissed. "Have ye gone, daft?"

He glanced above Jenny's head to see if anyone was watching them before glowering down at her. "For fuck sake, Jen, ye're no' my ma," he said in a low voice. "Whatever's about to spew out of yer mouth, this is no' the time nor the place for this."

"Ach aye? Wait till ma hears about ye missing yer therapy!"

"Oh, what's this? We're back in primary school or what? Rushing off to ma to tell her everything. Why cannae ye give ma and me a break, eh?"

"The therapy is for yer own good!"

"I'm fine, Jen! I told ye that many times! What part of 'I'm fine' cannae ye understand?"

"Ye've been telling everyone that all yer life. Everything's fine ... I'm fine ... dinnae fash," she mimicked his voice, her face scrunching up. "Ye say that all the time even when, in actual fact, most of the time ye werenae. So why do ye suppose I dinnae believe ye?"

Jamie looked up at the sky and let out a massive breath. "Aye, there's truth to what ye say. But this time ...I swear, I've never felt better."

"Bloody hell! All this time, I thought ye've been attending therapy. I wouldnae have known if Geneva hadnae asked after ye."

"Weel, if ye'd asked, I would've told ye!"

"No, you wouldnae. And that's always been yer problem."

Christ, why can't she just shut up? He glanced up and noticed his men were looking towards them now. He tugged at the neck of his shirt and winded his head. "Jenny, stop! I cannae do this right now."

His sister stepped forward and was right at his face. "Ye think I'm telling ye off for fun? Weel, here's the news. Everyone wants the best for ye, but ye dinnae care, do ye? Ye're acting like one selfish prick!"

"Jenny ..." he warned, feeling hot and cold all at once.

"No, dinnae Jenny me ..."

"Jenny, shut up! I cannae ..."

"Ye could've at least had Geneva assessed ye. Is that too much to ask?"

Jamie shut his eyes. When he opened them again, he realised Jenny's voice had become distorted, and the grating sound of the stump grinder and helicopter whirring above his head grew more punctuated. Without a hint of warning, a bomb suddenly detonated inside Jamie, and his world began to move in slow motion. Seeing nothing but red, he was only vaguely aware that his angry bellow brought everyone in the vicinity to a standstill.

"What the fuck, Jamie!"

Jamie came to his senses when an arm landed across his chest. He realised Willie was standing between him and Jenny. He glanced at his sister, and her expression caused something inside of him to still. He looked down and saw his fists were two rocks, shaking as if prepared to do some severe damage. Oh, God!

"Jenny ...Willie ..." Jamie whispered. "I ...ah ..."

Hands curled up under her chin, Jenny's eyes were as big as saucers, and she looked terrified. Of me? His heart nosedived to his boots so swiftly, he wondered how he remained upright. The fury evaporated in an instant, and all that remained was shame. He'd felt that kind of guilt before but never with enough punch to knock the air out of his lungs. For crying out loud, this is my sister. What was I thinking?

"Jen ..." He attempted to reach out to his sister, but Willie's arm restrained him. Realising the cause of his older brother's concern, he forced his fists to unfold, aware of Willie watching closely. "I'm so sorry. Oh, Christ, I wasnae gonnae hurt ye," he rasped. "I could never lift a hand to ye. Ye must know that."

He swallowed a lump when Willie appeared reluctant to let him go. But Jenny patted their brother's arm, nodding to let them know she was alright. When Willie took a cautious step back, Jamie immediately gathered his sister into his arms and cradled her against his chest.

"Jen ...forgive me. I didnae mean to shout," he said thickly. "Ye ken I wouldnae physically hurt ye, aye? For Christ sake, ye're my sister, and I love ye. Ye looked so frightened. I couldnae bear the way ye looked at me ..."

"Jamie ...I wasnae scared of ye ..." Jenny whispered. "I was scared for ye."

He pulled slightly away and searched her face. "What do ye mean?"

"Even though ye've been to war, I ken ye dinnae like fighting and violence. Ye abhorred it. I was scared ye might do something ye might regret and make yer condition worse. I dinnae want that for ye."

Jamie stared down at her. "Jenny ..."

"Look, Jamie. It was my fault. I shouldnae have pushed knowing yer condition, and ye ken what my temper is like when it gets out of control. It's like ..."

"Like mine ..." Jamie finished off for her. Drawing her once more into his embrace, they stood like that for a while. Soothing, apologising and hushing each other.

Willie stared at them and shook his head in disbelief, mumbling a sequence of profanities. It wasn't the first time he'd seen their outburst with such intensity. But it was probably the first time Jamie had seemed out of control. Reassured that peace had been restored, for the time being, Willie spun around and left them alone. Exercising his authority at their workers, the older Fraser barked warnings that gossip coming from their workplace would not be tolerated and anyone found guilty would be subjected to an immediate suspension. And with that, he stomped off, leaving them all to stare at his disappearing form in shock.

..........

"There ye are," a deep voice mused.

Claire jumped, making her slam the fridge door and Adso bolt out of the kitchen. She took a deep breath before turning around.

"Jamie! You're home early. I was just about to prepare dinner."

"Willie didn't need me for the rest of the afternoon, so he sent me home early." His chest was bare and heaving and glistening with sweat. He must have taken off his top as he came in. "I ran all the way from work. I think I may have far too much energy," he explained, slowly approaching her. His hand reached out and placed it behind her neck, and drew her in for a slow wet kiss, knocking the air out of her lungs. His other hand slid under her sweatshirt and squeezed her breast. "Tell me, what am I suppose to do about it, Sassenach."

She pulled away from him and scrunched up her nose. "Jamie! You're dirty."

"And here I thought ye like me dirty." There was no amusement in his tone, and his bunched jaw told her he was on edge or maybe stressed?

"Why don't you take a shower while I make us something to eat, or better still, how about a bath to help you relax? I'll even bring you a beer," she suggested, feeling a tad concern as she eyed him questioningly.

"How about ye come and have a shower with me," he wheedled, tugging her closer.

She drew away and took a step back. "Jamie, I've just had one, and I'm all clean."

"No' a problem. I can get ye dirty in no time." Jamie hauled her into his arms as she tried to dodge. Squealing, she slapped his chest. Once more, his hands wandered, causing a tingling sensation to coast all over her body. "There we go, ye're as dirty as me now." Pressing himself against her, he inhaled her hair as his breath came faster, fingers twisting in the hem of her top. "Ye definitely need a shower now." he gritted.

Laughing, she peered up at his face, and what she saw made her do a double-take and swiped the smile off her lips in an instant. Oh, sweet Mother of God, he looks worse for wear. Something must have happened at work. Didn't he say Willie sent him home? Looking closely, she noticed he looked weighed down with need, and it wasn't just the sexual kind. It was something more and urgent. He'd had almost the same look the other night when he woke up from a fitful sleep, but she hadn't pushed to find out. His hands were all over her now, frantic and desperate like he was trying to grasp onto something to anchor himself, his breathing becoming more shallow and harsh, and his eyes beginning to glaze.

"Jamie stop! Stop right this second."

He immediately stilled and loosened his grip, shame marring his face. "Ach Christ, Sassenach, did I hurt ye? I did, didn't I? Tell me! Oh, dear God ..."

He was about to turn away, but with her hands, she forced his pained face to look at her, a moan barely subdued in his throat. She could already read what was going on through his head. No way would she stand by and let him take any blame, feel shame or guilt. Not this time. And not anymore. He'd made mistakes like everyone else and would continue to make them, but he needed to believe he was a good soul. This had to stop now. "Look at me, James Fraser," she demanded in a firm voice. "Look at me! Whatever is going through that damn mind of yours, don't you even bloody dare entertain it. Are you listening to me?"

"Sassenach ..."

"No, Jamie! I don't know what happened to you today, but let me tell you this ...shit happens all the time, alright? And sometimes we don't get to have any control over it. That's just the way it is. Tonight we're going to talk, even if it takes the whole bloomin' night. But first ..." Before she could change her mind, she stepped away from him and yanked off her top and pulled her leggings down. When she was fully naked, she took his hand and laid it on her bare breast. "Take whatever you need, Jamie."

He baulked. "Sassenach ...ye shouldnae want this in my state. It's wrong. I-I was too rough. I could have hurt ye." His voice sounded hollow and agonised.

"But you didn't."

He palmed her breast. "Christ, do I have a shred of decency left?"

"Do you love me?" she asked, undoing his jeans button. She saw he was already highly aroused and his skin covered in goosebump.

"With all of me," he groaned when she pulled down his zipper. "And ye ken that."

Determination licking through her veins, she stood on her tiptoes and spoke into his ear, her hand sliding inside his jeans to caress the ridge of his hardness. "If that's the case, what we're about to do is not wrong."

A voice raced through her consciousness, telling her this was the way forward. She knew he needed his control back before he would be able to speak to her. So she got down on her knees and pulled his pants down.

When he wrapped her hair in his fist and tilted her head back, she smiled. "Now, let's get dirty and exorcise those pesky brain chatter, shall we?" Before he could reply, she took him full in her mouth and worshipped him with her love, absorbing every frustrated growl that ripped from his throat and every emotion that poured out of him with every roll of his hips.

She pushed him to the edge and over until he found his release, and his loud cries echoed in the air. When he shattered around her, his body slumped onto the floor and into her arms.

Claire knew they had a long night ahead of them, so she cradled him, waiting patiently for his breathing to calm. Later after she bathed him, they would talk, but for now, she was contented just to hold him a little while longer, as she wondered how many of Jamie's demons she would have to slay tonight and if love would be enough to conquer his hell.

Dear Readers,

Thank you all for your feedback from the previous chapter. I know it was a bit deep and dark, but I really did want to do Jamie's condition justice, and I must admit, I probably got carried away putting so much emphasis into it. But that's just me, I guess.

And as for the latest instalment, I hope you enjoyed it. Please let me know what you think. I must admit it is moving a bit slow, but it's a necessary move to pull this story together as I cover loopholes and grounds. One day, you'll understand the logic behind it.😀 So have patience, my friends - all in good time. Stay safe for now and take care until next time. X

#melodyheart #wonderwall #milesbetweenus #ClaireBeauchamp/JamieFraser #claire beauchamp #jamie fraser #outlanderfanfic

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flowerwrites06 · 2 years

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I wonder what the actual system is in Tumblr now to determine how successful a fanfic writer can get. Before it was the more followers you had, that was an automatic switch for your inbox and activity to start thrumming. Now it’s more of a gamble. You might have x many followers but you don’t write smut or you’re writing mxm or anything that can be counted as “less than marketable” in the community so that makes your engagement difficult.

Tumblr is probably one of the few sites where the numbers and engagements are so divided that it makes a writer grip their hair in frustration. It’s also this difficult pinch where a writer can’t really even express this concern without someone insinuating that they’re being unreasonable.

So my main question is what does it take? What would it take for a Tumblr writer and their community to close that division between numbers and engagement? I think the problem isn’t just engagement but the fact that no one really tells writers what they’re feeling about their piece. They’re just kind of leaving their thoughts up to the writers imagination with a like. Sometimes, at least for me personally, I don’t just want a compliment (although very appreciated), I want to know what made you like the story. Why did this fanfic get this many likes and this other fanfic get that likes and comments? Even though they’re the same story.

Yeah sure if the like and comments are just a little off, that’s fine but we all know that’s hardly the case.

If there is such an extreme divide between engagement and numbers then what is it? Was it the story? The characters? Something you didn’t like?

I recently posted a fanfiction called Bow to You and it was hands down the most engagement I received in a fanfic. Break my Minds Eye is my most popular fic but throughout its release, I often had to encourage engagement and a few of the chapters did poorly. But Bow to You was thoroughly loved and this was after my break.

Of course I loved it but the thing is I don’t know what I did different. My followers didn’t drastically increase before Bow to You, I don’t think I promoted it heavily and the story was very similar to the ones I always do. After the series ended and the euphoria of engagement finished, I started to think about what happened.

Was it really a better story than BMME? Was it just an extremely marketable story and I got lucky? Or was it pity because I left due to lack of engagement and motivation? Do all writers have to leave and come back just so their blog can do well?

It’s both disheartening and fascinating with the kind of culture that’s been created in the Tumblr writing community. Maybe someone else can shed more light on it. What does it take for a writer to get engagement? Especially when it’s in a community that doesn’t feel the need to speak up anymore until it’s too late and their fanfic writer is moving onto something else.

#rant #just some thoughts #I’m on an existential moment #fanfic #bts fanfic

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handonhaven · 3 years

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So um there is certain group that in this fandom(I'm not gonna name which one but I think it'll be pretty easy to figure out) that have taken to editing articles online to make it seem like their ship is happening and pretty much everything else they wish would happen on the show. Granted the edit to the articles don't last very long before they get changed back. But still I feel like that just a whole new level of sad. To go through all that trouble and they're just feeding into their own "I feel like I been lied to" thing. That's why if it's not one of those websites where Brett and other cast members do their interviews(the website that can't be edit) then I don't pay no mind or believe anything it says

Okay I know I'm really late with this one(and sorry if you answered something like this already) but Lizzie and Josie just made me mad to no end in 3x16. First let me start by saying I get them being upset that Hope ditched them and stole their car. That's understandable. But the fact that they didn't care where Hope was or where she went or if she was okay etc. That made me so mad, and then the only thing Lizzie cared about was making sure Hope would be in a relationship with someone other than Landon(don't even get me started on the comment she made about them and sex 😡😡). Because why shouldn't Hope be with the one person who loves her truly just the way she is. And does whatever he can to make sure she's okay and does whatever he can to help her unlike everyone else at that school, as well as a million other things I could add. And then at the end of the episode when Hope was back at the school both Lizzie and Josie go talk to her and try to act all high and mighty in a way. Asking Hope of it meant nothing to her what happened between them in 3x15. Clearly it meant nothing to Lizzie and Josie because they spent all of 3x16 not giving a crap about Hope. I mean they say they want to be there for Hope and help her and so on but then turn around and do the exact opposite. I honestly can't.

I think I can honestly say after this season. I would sacrifice anyone if it meant that Hope and Landon could be happy. I would throw anyone and everyone under the bus if I had to. Heck I would throw someone to malivore if I had. Just so they could be happy. Because all the trauma they went through these past 3 seasons plus all the trauma they went through before hand. They're done, like let them be done going through trauma. Just let them be happy of once, I don't care who has to pay what price let someone else go through something. I know it would suck for another character to go through pain I do. But Hope and Landon has had 3 seasons of nonstop trauma. That's way more than enough. Just give them a break and let someone else go through something. I don't care who they would throw under the bus to make that happen. Just make it happen, so that way Handon can deal with and possess all the trauma they've been through and move past it and just be happy. I know it's wrong to say let another character through pain so they can be happy, I do. But after three seasons of only them going through some much this is how I feel now. Yes I know other characters went through stuff too, but it was never to the extent to what Hope and Landon have been going through. And they even got a break from it and got to deal with. Hope and Landon have never gotten that.

So my friend came up with this theory that 4x04 is going to be a parallel to 3x04. Because at the end of 3x04 we had to watch as Hope watched Landon melt right in front of her. Which was heart breaking enough by the way. Then the end of 4x04 will be Landon watching Hope die right in front of his eyes. Just thinking about something like that happening just breaks my heart 💔💔💔💔. It was bad enough having to see that once. But they have see that twice.... I think my heart will jump out of my chest and fall into the ocean somewhere never to be seen again. There's no way I could take seeing something like that twice.

Okay so I know everyone has there own thoughts on this one, but I would love to hear yours. So if Klaus was alive and met Landon what do you think he would think of him? I honestly think he would love Landon(even though he wouldn't come out right and say that). For the person he is despite everything he's been through in his life, and how he's always trying to better himself. For how good he is to Hope and how happy he makes her. And for how he's trys to help Hope with everything, and does what he can to help keep her safe. And so on.

Seriously?? Wow. So that’s how they’re spending the hiatus? That’s definitely sad and absurd, the kind of stuff they do continues to reach new levels. I just don’t get what the point is of trying to temporarily deceive people by doing that... so that they can feel like they’ve won for a little while? They must be pretty desperate. And they really are just lying to themselves at this point, and are going to great lengths to lie to other people too. Idk what sites even allow them to do that, at least the articles get changed back though. But yeah, I’m gonna stick to only looking at legit articles and websites, and official info from people who actually work on the show. That’s just incredibly stupid, honestly.

I actually did talk about that a bit in a response to an ask here x. But yeah, same. I understand them being upset about Hope ditching them too, but Hope clearly did it to keep them out of what she was doing because there could’ve been danger. That’s nothing new for Hope, and since they’re supposed to be her best friends, shouldn’t they know that? And even though they were upset, they still should’ve been more concerned about Hope’s safety, which they weren’t. And yes, exactly. Yes to all you said. It was all so frustrating to watch and made me mad too. And so true about Hope and Landon, Hope should be able to be with him, he’s all those things you said and more. So there was no good reason for Lizzie to try to find Hope someone else when she still loves Landon and wasn’t interested in moving on. And I agree about the end of the episode as well. Once again, their concern was the fact that Hope had ditched them, not if she was okay. Exactly, it doesn’t seem like 3x15 meant anything to them since they were so quick to give up on Hope. Just one thing went wrong, which was really more of an inconvenience for them, and they didn’t even try to be there for Hope. They got offended and did nothing. So it makes me worried for when Hope has to deal with Malivore and whether or not they’ll really be there for her.

Yeah, I mean, hopefully no one would have to be sacrificed for them to be happy. But it’s really sad that it’s gotten to the point where it feels like it would take something that extreme to make it happen. It’s truly insane the kind of trauma they’ve gone through and how they can never get a real break and be happy. I agree, if anyone deserves to be happy at this point, it’s them. And I wouldn’t want someone else to have to suffer either, but if the writers are so insistent on having someone suffer, they need to have it not be Hope and Landon for once! They need a better balance of what goes on with all the characters instead of just putting Hope and Landon through everything all the time. Exactly, they seriously have gone through nonstop trauma, they can’t go through anymore at this point, it’s too much. I agree, they need to be able to recover and heal after all they’ve been through so that they can be okay and be happy. I honestly don’t know how either of them have even been able to keep going after all they’ve experienced, it’s so horrible. And yeah, it’s not that the other characters haven’t gone through stuff too, it’s just not at all like what Hope and Landon have dealt with. And like you say, with no breaks, no time to heal. I just think it’s ironic how they wanted this show to be lighter, yet they still put these characters through terrible things, Hope and Landon most of all. They have them constantly dealing with trauma and pain and death, they just lighten up the tone and throw in some comedy amidst all of the tragedy to make it seem lighter when it’s really not. Not for Hope and Landon anyway. I wish they’d make their actual lives and experiences lighter overall, and let them live and be happy for a bit, it’s what they deserve.

Oh my gosh! So I’ve also wondered if Hope is gonna die in 4x04, but I didn’t even think about how that would be a parallel to 3x04! 😭 It will be so painful if it happens, I’m not sure I can take it either! Although, if Landon is there if it happens that could also make for an amazing scene. Like seeing Landon crying over her, or his reaction to it triggering his Phoenix powers again, or maybe even getting healing tears? I’d lose it. It would definitely be heartbreaking, but as long as they wouldn’t get separated again like in 3x04 and they could still be together after, hopefully we would survive seeing something like that again!

When it comes to Klaus and Landon, I have so many thoughts about that, I could make a whole other post about it. But I completely agree with what you said. Every time I see people say Klaus would hate Landon, that he would’ve killed him, etc. like... it makes me mad but I also wanna laugh. Because there’s just no way that Klaus would feel that way about Landon, and whoever thinks he would either didn’t actually watch The Originals, or at least didn’t pay attention to it or understand it. I don’t know how anyone can watch that show and come away from it thinking Landon isn’t the kind of person Klaus, Hayley, and the rest of Hope’s family would want for Hope. And we already saw Klaus’s reaction to Landon dancing with Hope. He was smiling and happy to see Hope with him. He’s already basically approved of Landon. But I really do think he would love Landon too. He wanted Hope to be happy, and Landon is the one who makes Hope happy. So I think that alone would be reason enough for Klaus to like Landon and want him in Hope’s life. But also the other things you said as well, I think he would really admire Landon and the kind of person he is after all that he’s been through. I’ve always thought it was interesting how, in some ways, Landon went through similar things in his childhood like Klaus and Hayley did. He was abused, and Klaus was also abused, and was in foster care with no real family, like Hayley was. And I think for Klaus to see the way Landon has handled that and didn’t let those things change who he is as a person, and still chose to be a good and kind person even after being treated so horribly, I’m sure that would mean a lot to Klaus. To see the way that Landon has been able to overcome darkness in his life, and that’s what Hope needs as well. Klaus and the rest of the Mikaelsons always wanted Hope to be better than how they had been, and Landon helps Hope to be better and helps brings out the best parts of her. And of course with the way that Landon treats Hope, and how much he loves her, how loyal he is, and the way he fights for her and is willing to do whatever it takes to keep her safe, I’m sure Klaus would be so grateful to Landon. Like, just imagine Klaus’s reaction to what Landon did for Hope in 2x11, along with everything else he’s done. How could Klaus not love someone who loves his daughter that much and is that devoted to her? I could go on about this, but this has gotten ridiculously long so I’ll stop. But yeah, I definitely think Klaus would love Landon and be so glad that Hope has him.

#answered #s3 #handon

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1dcraftawards · 3 years

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November Author of the Month...

Drumroll please.... our November Author of the Month is none other than the incredibly talented...

@all-things-fic !

Congratulations to a wonderful author, Liz! You can check out our interview with her below!

1.Did you start writing fanfiction for One Direction, or was there another fandom that you wrote fanfiction for before this?

I have one fic that I wrote for One Direction Fanfic Archive, that will never see the light of day. It was really awful, but everyone starts somewhere. I’ve shared it with two people on Tumblr and we just laughed about it.

I’ve also written a Niall Horan fic which has been flagged for how explicit it is, which is quite laughable as it’s tame in comparison to the Harry stuff (eek!)

2. How old were you when you started writing fanfiction?

I was a teenager when I first started writing fics. I don’t know if I would consider it “proper” fanfic though as it was riddled with cliches.

3. What’s been your favorite fic that you’ve written to work on so far?

For the longest time I was proud of the second part of Divorce Harry and specifically the second part. It just felt real to write. I can’t even explain what it is about that piece.

I think at the time it stemmed from an ask I received where I was asked if I was a parent - I’m not - but this someone said I portrayed aspects of a marriage and how children can tip the balance really well.

The sheer bitterness of two people in love and the juxtaposed feeling it brings was an interesting dynamic. Being bitter and in love? How? It happens. You love someone, but bloody hell don’t you hate at the same time.

And I think on the hand Quarantine Harry is the opposite side of the same coin. I love it because it’s so happy. When you’re smitten and basking. Your baby waking you up at 3am and meeting your husband on the landing with the freshly made bottle is a time to enjoy because you’re doing it together.

But soon enough the third child is sprawled out in your kingsize bed and their foot is pressed against your ribs and you're tired. This isn’t me saying the two stories are linked (I do get those theories quite a lot haha)

4. Do you prefer AU or OU?

Definitely more of an OU gal. I’m massively into writing things “realistically” because I think it’s so relatable and helps draw readers in more so. Especially if the writing uses and references visuals that readers are aware of.

5. What’s your favorite trope to write?

Would we call a long-term relationship / established relationship a trope? If so then this is my favourite. Writing characters who know how to push each other’s buttons, knowing what they can and can’t say to get the other going. Being able to write two people who can share as little as a glance and know what the other is feeling.

Sprinkle a bit of angst on the top for good measure.

That’s my kryptonite.

6. What’s your ideal space to write in?

I tend to write when I’m in bed quite a bit, usually really late at night and on my phone rather than my laptop. Often lying in the dark. Sometimes first thing in a morning.

7. How do you get motivation to write?

This one made me laugh considering I’m unable to finish a single piece of writing at the minute.

Pictures are quite inspiring. New images of Harry can usually start something in me. The images of him in the whacky joggers for example from set have inspired a scene in Quarantine Harry (who knows for which part just yet!).

8. Do you typically like to listen to music when you write? If so, what do you listen to?

Very rarely listen to anything when I write, I tend to like silence really. Sometimes this is so I can dictate into my phone.

9. Your dialogue is some of the best I’ve ever read on tumblr, how do you plan conversations in your fics?

Thank you for the compliment, it’s really nice to read that you think so highly of my dialogue. I don’t really plan them - conversations or my fics. I’m quite visual in how I write, so anything that you’ve read I’ve most likely had it play out in my mind and typed it as it’s moved. For dialogue I tend to speak out loud as I’m typing to try and get the pacing right for the conversation.

No, I don’t try to do a Manc accent… Just in case anyone is wondering haha!

10. What is your writing process like?

I write what I see and then hope it fits. Honestly it’s pretty chaotic. The only time I tend to plan is when I’ve got a lot of different scenes written and I need to know if they’re suitable for an update or what order to place them.

Then I read through them and think about the characters and how they would be a certain time and move the documents into another document. Then I close all the tabs and cry cause my motivation is nonexistent.

11. What’s been your favorite scene to write from Quarantine Harry?

One that hasn’t been shared haha! I’m joking (maybe).

From part one my favourite bit has to be the part where she makes up with him by taking him a cuppa and he gets a dig in about how she hasn’t brought any biscuits with her. Also the bit where he says “come an’ love me” meaning he wants to cuddle. I’m quite conscious I don’t really ever write soppy fics, so when I’m writing “fluffy” aspects they’re more so everyday affections. Like, you know someone is properly in love with you when they’re doing the washing up cause you’re busy, or they’re taking out the bins on bin day. That kinda thing.

From part two absolutely the entirety of the morning where she takes the pregnancy test. That was the part I had as clear as day and I worked backwards to the opening scene. I really loved the idea of Harry knowing his partner is pregnant before said partner knows. Him knowing his lovers body like the back of his hand so much so that he’s able to pick up on the smallest of things. I knew I had to write it.

And how he casually suggested she took the test, by pressing a kiss into her back. His face finding that test and then being an insufferable sod and pleased with himself cause he’s in the know about the outcome before the MC.

12. Is there a schedule you follow in terms of when you write? Or are you more impulsive and just write where and when you can?

So impulsive it’s actually embarrassing. I cringe at myself. I know I’ve mentioned this loads but I really write what I see. So if I’m not seeing anything, I’m not writing. It’s quite frustrating.

13. What is one thing you wish you would’ve known before you started writing?

To not talk about your writing before you’ve finished it. I feel like I massively let people down when I post sneak peeks and then I can’t deliver because life gets on top of me!

14. What do you prefer writing, multi-chaptered fics or one shots?

One shots and then if they develop into something more that can be exciting!

15. What's your secret to portraying such a complex and interesting relationship between your main characters??

Personal trauma…… *tumbleweed at another one of my poorly thought out jokes*

I’m a bit stumped on how to answer this one. I think being well read(ish) helps you create complex characters and relationships, not saying that I am but I’ve read a fair few books. Life in general helps too, sometimes personal relationships. Just growing up. My fic when I was younger was nowhere near the type of things I’m writing now but I’ve got a couple (okay, more than a couple!) of years on myself since then.

I think just apply your own lived experiences and call upon emotions you may have felt through certain times that you’re writing should you have experience it.

Partly I also think so many of us are a little bit nosy. Sometimes we all kinda want to be the fly on the wall in the home of couples to see if everything is a rosy as it seems or as intimate. Or whether it is just raw passion with a couple of arguments thrown in for good measure.

16. What Harry era/mood/look/vibe/song/etc. do you get most inspired by?

What’s weird is my favourite era of Harry is 2014, but I wouldn’t want to write him like that. The current Harry is quite marvellous. I’ve never known anyone like him, he really is fine wine (the real album title…. ‘we’ll be a fine wine’)

If you’re asking what mood I like to see him in, it’s either when he's pensive and looks a touch pissed off with a crease to his brow or when you watch his joke his eyes before he’s even said it and he’s amused/pleased with himself.

His current look, mainly late 2019/2020 is quite something (hence the quarantine fics)

I tend not to get inspired by his songs but my two faves if I had to pick would be Woman and TBSL. I think they’re massive Scorpio energy and would make great premises for a one shot sometime!

I’m not sure if I even answered this how you wanted it answer but hopefully it was something haha!

17. Who or what inspired you to start writing?

I’ve always loved writing, I think it’s because I do a lot of it with my line of work. The person that gave me the push on this site was actually an account called @meetyourmouths. The lovely Iz is no longer on tumblr but she wrote a Harry piece that just made me think ‘fuck it’ and I posted Practicing. If you go to that piece the authors note makes mention to Iz.

I would also say @stylishmuser was one of the first people to reach out to me and be encouraging which has always stuck with me. Massive love for, P and still talk to her all these years on.

I’m now sat here thinking about listing all the lovely lovely people who have been so nice to me both in regards to writing and outside of it and I’m conscious I’m not mentioning them. The troubles of being a bit of a people pleaser. Hopefully those people know I love ‘em… You know?

18. Some readers are wary of leaving feedback because they're unsure how the writer will take it, how do you personally like to receive feedback? Do you want to be critiqued, or would you like to just know if they did or didn't enjoy what they've read?

First thing I’d say is please don’t ever think as readers you can’t be negative. Sure there is a way to present the feedback to the author cause writing can be quite personal, but everyone has room for growth.

Just come chat to me. Can be about anything and everything. A simple ‘loved the update’ to ‘this bit was rubbish’. I’m open to all feedback.

One thing to remember is there are a lot of writers out there so there is something for everybody. If a fic isn’t for you there are tons out there waiting for you to go and grab ‘em!

19. Is writing a hobby or do you have aspirations of writing professionally outside of fanfiction?

I used to think it was mainly more so a hobby, and I do still lean towards this. However, now I’m not so sure. My problem is I tend to have long spells of not being able to find balance in my ‘real life’ job and the extra-curricular stuff.

I’m dragging myself here but I don’t think my fics have much plot to them. I’m more so about writing the everyday life and I don’t think there is a market for that really (unless you have something explosive happen somewhere).

20. And finally, What's your purpose for writing? What do you hope to accomplish?

For a while I wanted to write Harry being insufferably British. I found it quite hard to find writings that I thought wrote him using Britsh-isms (is this even a thing?) and types of phrases that are common over this side of the pond. I wanted to put that out there for someone who may have once felt like me.

Mostly, I just want to put pieces out that take people elsewhere, even if only for a couple of minutes. A lot of the world is a bleak place, if you find my little corner on tumblr and it makes you smile, that’s achieved something, hasn't it?

#author of the month #aom #November2020 #aomnovember2020

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paullicino · 3 years

Text

On the Internet

Taken from, and thus generously funded by, my Patreon. The above image via ExtraFabulousComics.

Do you have a flashlight nearby? A lamp, or other light source? Keep it to hand, it might become relevant for something, something I’d like to demonstrate later. The demonstration is simple and entirely voluntary, the flashlight is not essential. It works just as well as a thought experiment in your head.

Meanwhile, I’m going to write about the internet on the internet. Because that’s what we all do these days, isn’t it?

---

I still remember the excitement of our first explorations online. It was a kind of hidden, secret space of unknown dimensions when we found it as young adults. A weird sort of Narnia. A modem meant you could open this door to an entirely different place full of entirely different people obeying entirely different rules. You had to find ways of telling one another about what you’d found this week, either the next time you were together in person, via an email or, God forbid, by printing out a webpage. Twenty-five years ago, the internet was a collection of imperfect search engines (crawlers) taking you to out-of-the-way websites that were as likely to have been made by someone just like you as they were to belong to some major company or organisation. Its mess was egalitarian. It was a decentralised place full of curious corners and sudden surprises. It wasn’t somewhere we logged on to with an expectation of finding the familiar. It was a place of discovery.

It wasn’t simply that the tech wasn’t as good as it is nowadays. That much is obvious. It was the fumbling newness of the place. It was a primordial soup, we were all blobs and we blobbed around together, testing out the water.

It was a tremendously international space. It was easy to stumble across websites in other languages, to find places that weren’t for you, that were never created with you in mind, and at the very edges of these places their owners and their users might just blend together. Spill over, even. Everyone was from everywhere and they were all mingling, uncontrolled. It was liberating. It was mind-expanding.

The internet was exciting, it was new, it was unfamiliar. It was a place to learn. It was a place without an agenda.

It was also a place to be different. Niche interests found their audiences and young people could be united by what they enjoyed, not marginalised. There was no need to fit in when the place didn’t even fit together properly. For those of us bullied, bored, or worse in tiny homogenous hometowns, isolated or upset by the toxic social dynamics and popularity contests that school can create, it offered little judgement about what you should want or who you should be. It was a place to be genuine.

I still remember the end of the 1990s, too. It was a decade of growth and change not just for a young generation, but for the wider world we were learning about. There was a peace deal in Northern Ireland, there was optimism in the media and there was a coming millennium that was supposed to be defined by technology and communication, the internet at its forefront. I was not a young man who could identify with very much of this optimism, but I was at least a young man looking forward to change, who could be accepted as who I was on the internet and who could be excited about what it represented. I’d never tried to be anyone else, even though being different rarely works out when you’re young, but now I knew for sure that I didn’t need to.

As my friends and I grew, so did the internet, and it became a place where we could share more about ourselves, where we could play together and where we found a bunch of ways of keeping in touch whenever we were apart. It became a tool to help me work, that kickstarted my career as a writer, as well as an ever-widening window on the world. It wasn’t yet too corporate, its websites and its tools not yet too monolithic.

I remember some of that early sharing. I remember talking to total strangers, a world away, about some part of my life or theirs. I remember talking to one internet friend of many years, who I never met, about British and American spelling. And about spelling in general. I remember they told me they weren’t sure how to spell a particular word and I said they could look it up in but a moment, since they were online there and then. “I can’t be bothered,” they replied, and that frustrated me so much.

The 90s passed and on September 11th 2001 whatever vision there was for the coming century was erased. The course of world events shifted immediately and dramatically. Never before had mass murder been so visible and so immediate. I remember talking not about how different the world was going to be, but that we had no idea how big a difference this would even make. In a very short space of time, it felt as if the world became not only so much more cruel and so much more cynical, but also so much more divided. I remember the weeks and months after those terror attacks as being my first experience of seeing people sharply divided in their politics, divided enough to be extremely angry, extremely offended, by the many suggestions of what should be done next. It set the scene.

As the decade continued, technology and communication certainly did change us. More of us were using the internet not only to talk, but for more and more of our everyday tasks. We were also sharing ourselves, too, in ways more personal and profound, and there was so much to know. I read a blog post by a Black woman from the American South describing the ways she had to bring up her son to interact with the wider world, how angry he was about it, how unfair it all was. I read updates from those caught in the civil war in Myanmar, talking about what they claimed the news didn’t show. I read about the realities of the rapid growth in Dubai, the working conditions and pollution. I read diary entries by people surviving the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina, weeks without power and wondering when help would come. I read about the world in a way I’d never been able to before.

More than ever, the internet was a library of lives.

The first trip overseas I took by myself was all planned, booked and executed with the help of the internet. I flew to Chicago, in the United States, and I stayed in the most average hotel in the most average neighbourhood and it was wonderful. I heard real cicadas for the first time and walked through concrete valleys between towering skyscrapers that my tiny mind couldn’t process. In the evenings, I watched a plethora of American news, which was only ever about America, and that frustrated me so much.

The first interview I ever conducted with someone who wasn’t making a video game was with the writer Mil Millington. The interviews I really wanted to do were about people, their experiences, what they liked and why they do the things they do. Mil Millington was the perfect subject because we had both written about games, we both understood the reach of the internet and we were both interested in what the future of this medium would be. He had recently scored a book deal and written his first novel, Things My Girlfriend and I Have Argued About, based on his semi-autobiographical, tongue-in-cheek blog of the same name, listing comic domestic disagreements. I asked him what it was like to share all of his personal life online and he told me that, actually, he didn’t:

“I'm, honestly, almost obsessively private. It's just the way I write that, for some reason, if I say, 'Margret won't let me watch a film in peace,' causes people to think, 'My God! Mil's laying his whole life bare!'”

And then I realised that he had, of course, chosen to share all the things that he had. And carefully. It didn’t mean that those things were less honest, less real or less interesting, but he had been doing what all of us writers do: picking his words and his moments. We should all get to share on our own terms.

I liked his honesty. He wasn’t trying to prop up any persona.

---

A little after this time, I was asked on a date by a conservative American woman who I met in my first year at university in London. We saw each other a few times and stayed in touch when she returned to California. A couple of years later, the American Vice Presidential candidate Sarah Palin spoke about “death panels” run by Britain’s National Health Service. Online, I expressed my annoyance and anger both at Palin just making things up, as well as at the volume of people who seemed to simply accept her words. My former date said that Palin was allowed to “express her opinion” and I didn’t know how to begin to explain, to an adult in her mid 20s, the difference between fact and opinion, or that she could check such things in a moment, since she was online. That frustrated me so much.

This discussion played out over a relatively new website called Facebook, which had become an invaluable way to connect with my fellow students. I had feared being alone at university, lost in a big city, but the opposite had happened. As soon as we all finished our first year of studies and were hurried out of our student residences, we scattered across the capital and the closeness I had taken for granted was suddenly lost. But Facebook became a directory of friendship, another library of lives. In its early days, I made jokes about people oversharing, or using the site to attract attention, but this wasn’t any different to how some of us might behave anywhere else. It wasn’t such a big deal. That’s just humans.

And anyway, I like to share. My whole life, I’ve enjoyed sharing things I think are important because I feel like it helps me make genuine connections, express myself and feel useful. I saw the internet becoming another way of doing this, another way to be genuine. The younger me had played in bands and held dreams of reaching other people through music, in awe of those moments when an audience sings an artist’s lyrics back to them. I still wanted that, that connection, or some version of it.

On the ever-growing internet, we could all share ourselves more. It could become a new medium for acceptance and understanding. What a glorious future it promised.

---

In time, I adopted all of the social media platforms that I use because I enjoy human connection and I think one of the fundamental traits of people is that they can be so interesting. They do stuff, they make things, they go places, they inspire and they pull humour out of the most difficult of situations like a conjurer tugging an elephant from a beanie. I’d like to be able to do those things. Some days I can barely make a pancake.

Social media allowed me to make and share even more, and now I was sharing things with two people at dinner, ten people at a party or a hundred people online. The number mattered less than the creation’s ability to connect, because it all helped me figure people out and it helped me figure myself out. It helped me figure everything out so that, perhaps one day, I might also learn the trick that lets you tug an elephant out of a beanie. I would be able to say to people “Ah yes, you start with the trunk,” or “Surprisingly, you pull from the tail.” Then they could pass that on. Social media seemed particularly good for this, a way for us to all enrich one another.

In 2008, a series of devastating terrorist attacks erupted across Mumbai. Many of the events were documented in real-time by both journalists and locals using Twitter, which made the site seem to me to be an invaluable new perspective on current events. By the start of the next decade, the Arab Spring saw a broad uprising across North Africa, with thousands of people united in protest by the unifying power of social media. It felt like these tools could change our world forever.

Some other things happened as that decade wound down.

A woman on Twitter made a poor joke about AIDS and Africa before boarding a flight, only to find that, by the time she had landed, her words had been shared around the world many millions of times. A woman in England was caught on camera putting a cat in a bin, the footage of which went viral and received such an overwhelmingly furious reaction that one national newspaper asked, only half-joking, if she was the most evil woman in Britain. These events were shared, discussed and dissected with a comparable passion and level of investment as the terrorist attacks and the Arab Spring. On the internet, a cat in a bin was becoming as important as terrorists in a hotel.

I flexed some cynical opinions. We all had opinions by then (though still not the same as facts), because it was increasingly difficult not to get swept up in things like these as and when they happened. They were everywhere, echoed and repeated, with a kind of mentality of momentum. Countless people changed their profile pictures to something green in support of protesters in Iran, or added a flag to support victims of terror in France. They signed internet petitions demanding Something Be Done, though it wasn’t always clear where these petitions would be delivered or how they would compel someone to act. None of these protesters or victims were in any way saved, protected or enabled by a person on the other side of the planet clicking their mouse like this, but if a million other people did it, those metrics created a validity of their own.

I think I remember the late 2000s as the time that I really began to feel different about these things. But by then, I was too bought in. It had already gone from a habit to a dependency.

Year by year, the internet had become less egalitarian. Monolithic sites and spaces were increasingly the center of the experience, whether hubs like MSN and Yahoo, social media sites like Facebook or Twitter, or popular news outlets. We found ourselves in the same places, over and over, and we relied on these for our new discoveries. While social media in particular pitched itself as something that put us all on the same level, behind the scenes levers were already being pulled to shape and to manipulate what was shown and shared.

(That’s okay, people told me. Turn on this feature, or adjust these options, and you get to pull your own levers. That’ll undo everything. You still get to share on your own terms.)

These sites had swelled to envelop us, going from making themselves exciting to making themselves essential. We no longer went online, we were online, always, and we left more and more of ourselves there even when we were away from our screens. Social media allowed you to collect everything together, becoming a place where you could simultaneously read updates from your friends, your parents, Leonardo Di Caprio, the Prime Minister, your favourite newspaper and your favourite sports team. All in a moment and all competing for your attention. Sites like Google and YouTube started to track and understand the preferences of their users, delivering to them more of what they wanted, working hard to grab and to keep their attention. You liked that dog, that topic, that politician? Here’s another.

Here’s another, again.

I was pulling levers all the time, frantically now, like someone operating locks and gates to try and dam an ever more overwhelming flow. My social media sites had changed from something that I used to something I had to manage. Not only were we all carefully curating who we broadcast to and when, lest we offend an employer or shock a relative, we also found ourselves trying to coordinate and customise them, because if we didn’t they would do this for us. They began to choose what to show us, based on what they believed we cared about, they began to offer us things, based on who they believed we were. They even began to mess with time, giving us information and updates out of chronological order. All of these were changes we often had to undo or at least be mindful of, if we even knew about them. If we wanted to. And if we knew how.

If we didn’t, our reality might shift.

---

I still remember the excitement of our first explorations online. My first favourite website was Snopes, which was then a collection of myths and urban legends, most of them debunked. In the late 90s, bullshit chainletter emails would bounce around the internet with stories about how some Russian scientists had drilled their way to hell, or how a new computer virus had come out, or how Coca Cola dissolved human teeth. Sometimes, the strangest of stories really were true, or at least partially so, but most of them were trash. Thanks to Snopes, you could check such things in a moment. I loved that about the internet.

On September 11th 2001, almost twenty years ago now, it was difficult to disagree about what we saw happening right in front of our eyes. Nevertheless, there were a few people afterward who insisted that a plane had not hit the Pentagon, that the towers had been deliberately demolished, that some more mysterious sequence of events had transpired. They lurked in the darkest corners of the internet, much as they had always existed on any other margins in any other mediums. The rest of us could get on with our lives.

I grew up playing games and then, later, I became someone who analysed, critiqued and even designed them. One of the most powerful and important things I learned through games is that so much in life is based around systems and the longer a system is around for, the better we become at manipulating it. When a game has been around for a long time, we find many different ways to play it and sometimes we have to adjust the rules of the game to account for this. The rules for chess that we have today have seen many adjustments and revisions. The same is true for football. It is also true for our laws and for our systems of government. We have to modify these things in part because times change, but also in part because they are being abused and exploited, subverted in ways their designers never imagined.

Or simply used as optimally as possible.

It’s 2021 and the internet monoliths that we have begun to take for granted, that have surged like the rising oceans to engulf our lives and to carry us along their currents, are constantly being used in ways their designers never imagined. Two years ago, we thought the biggest problem we had with social media and internet monoliths was their subversion to manipulate elections, with great armies of bots and fake profiles being created and directed faster than the people who owned social media sites being able to prevent this. This presence could bring amplification and validity to anyone or to anything. “Learn the algorithm,” was the key to success online. Use a site or social media platform in a particular way and it will elevate you further. Elevate your work. Or your truth. Or just you.

Now, more than a year and a half into a pandemic that defines our generation, the areas of the internet with which we’ve become most familiar and most comfortable, those which we began to pour our lives and identity into, are not only places where elections were subverted, they’re places where the difference between life and death are considered a matter of opinion, where science and fact can be openly ridiculed, where conspiracies about September 11th are tiny in comparison. For some time now they’ve already been well-worn battlefields, public arenas within which opinion and force of will often carry more weight than evidence and reason, but now the consequences of doubling down on a belief are undeniably the difference between living and dying.

More important, for some people, is the difference between right and wrong. Not so much being right, but being seen being right, can give you validity, clout, value. I think we’ve reached the point where dying while being seen as right can matter more than living and admitting a mistake.

The flow of the internet, all those locks and gates opened by algorithms or AI or other people’s decisions that may simply have been motivated by a desire to give us what we like, have made it more difficult than ever to find things that go against the current, or to grasp something we can be sure is objective or straightforward.

One part of me believes that we can no longer look things up in a moment any more, because we have to second-guess every other thing we find. As a journalist and researcher, I never feel secure with what I find on the internet now and I dig, I verify and I compare, still coming away unsure, often worried I will publish something glaringly incorrect. A different part of me, a more dramatic part, sometimes wonders which things are even real.

I suppose anything is real if you can get away with it. If nobody ever notices.

---

There’s another aspect to all this, the aspect that makes me the most uncomfortable. The aspect I least enjoy discussing, but which I have to if I can fully explain myself.

Living alongside the internet, I’ve watched as some of us pull all those levers simply to control the flow as best we can, to keep ourselves afloat, but others have viewed this experience differently. They’ve seen it as a challenge, as another system they can manipulate. It’s an opportunity for them to choose how they present themselves. The more levers they pull, the greater their ability to do so. The more time they invest, the greater the result.

If you take your flashlight, lamp or light source and point it toward an object, you can easily affect the size and the shape of the shadows it will cast. Under your control, those shadows can lengthen or deepen, they can sweep and distort. A light up close can cast a gigantic shadow across a far wall, perhaps a sharp one or perhaps one fuzzy and undefined. Try it. See what you can make. The more you do it, the more tricks you can learn.

All of us try to present our best selves and all of us have our different selves, too. Forty years before I ever went online, the sociologist Erving Goffman published The Presentation of Self in Everyday Life, a book about how we behave differently in different contexts. It’s natural for us to speak to our family in a different way to how we speak to our best friend, or to our colleagues, or to a crowd we might be addressing in a speech. It’s not necessarily disingenuous, it’s merely a part of the human experience. But impression management, as Goffman called it, is also a matter of degrees. Some people are more invested than others. If given the tools to perform more effective impression management, more levers they can pull, they will engage even further.

I have flexed a few cynical opinions in my life (at least as many as three, the stats suggest) but, at the same time, I think I have to admit that I have also been very naïve about people. I tend to take many of them on face value and assume they are genuine. Many of us are, perhaps even most of us. But I’ve come to know both that this isn’t always the case and that, given the opportunity, some people will use every tool at their disposal to shape a false version of themselves. We’ve found ourselves in an era where this is more possible than ever. It’s no longer simply within the purview of politicians and PR firms, it’s within reach of every one of us and all we need to do is put in the time and energy. The reward can be ever greater popularity, ever more validation

And I’m so tired of seeing this.

Over the past half decade or so, I have seen the internet and its many systems gamed more than ever. Gamed for political gain, gamed for personal gain and gamed to create images, personalities and that god-awful golem of hollow and lifeless artifice that is brand. Now a person can be a product, a new kind of commodity in this ever more opaque ecosystem.

The nausea and unhappiness I feel from all this is more than the simple declaration that I’m not a brand, I’m a person. It’s the discovery that other people, sometimes people I’ve known, really are a brand now. Their time, their energy, their life is now invested in shaping and maintaining that image, that brand, perhaps even at the expense of other pursuits. And with the right manipulations, the right tugging of the correct levers, they can perpetuate that, build that and further gain the affirmations and validations they need to prove to themselves that what they have created is as solid and as true and as real as anything else. And how would we know any different?

The ocean is not so far from my home. It’s not unusual to walk the beach or the seawall and see people engaged in impromptu photoshoots, dressed in their very best, expertly presented and shot with long lenses. A friend told me that most of these shoots are for the purpose of enriching dating profiles, that there’s an increasing feeling of expectation, a sense that everyone must present their very best selves, simply because everyone else now does so. To be on a dating site is to feel engaged in an ever-escalating competition for time and attention, to need to package oneself as the best possible product.

I don’t at all object to the idea of dating sites, but I could never get comfortable with them and I used to feel like I was browsing a human meat market, that it was all too easy for me to make judgements about people I didn’t know and then cast them aside. I felt, again, like people had become products and this was a system and a process I did not want to be part of. You can game it, people tried to tell me. There are ways to make it work better for you, it just takes a little time. I didn’t want to know.

The more time you spend trying to engage with things that aren’t genuine, the less you have for what is real.

When I use the internet these days it’s with an increasing sense of discomfort and disquiet. I find myself already on the lookout for the artificial. I second-guess people as much as I do information. I’m all too aware of the constructed persona and the deliberate framing, of that angling of a light to cast a particular shadow. In a few cases, this isn’t an abstract concern and social media in particular can be a place where I watch people I know are starkly different to the image they project be celebrated for the false façade they maintain, a façade that can be further reinforced by popularity and prominence. I see harmful and unhealthy people championed even in spite of their actions, because they have managed to engineer support and validation, or using the popularity and affirmation they have gained to push opinion over fact. The disingenuous and the distorted tie together like a greasy braid, each one reinforcing the other, and it’s no wonder falsehoods can spread so far, whether false representations or false information. I would say that sometimes I almost feel like I’m back at school, amongst the same gossip and garbage, but this is far worse than any of the toxic social dynamics and popularity contests that school ever created, and now it comes with measurable metrics in the form of likes, follows, retweets or subscriptions.

I’m sure, at this point, this is a common experience and common concern for most of us, and we are each finding our own ways to handle it.

Or not. For me, the experience is deeply unpleasant.

While drafting this I idly wondered if we could somehow develop a new version of Snopes for human beings. A demystifier of people, something that reveals each person’s private Picture of Dorian Gray, which grows ever more warped as they reinforce their persona ever more. But I’m sure even that would be gamed and subverted before too long.

I'm so, so tired of trying to work out who is real.

---

The internet monoliths I move between in my daily life all have one thing in common. Google, Twitch, Twitter, Instagram, YouTube, Tumblr, Facebook, Patreon and so many others are all based in the same place: the United States. They are towering. They overwhelm the rest of the internet. The levers that many of these pull, controlling currents and flow, are being operated in the United States. The politics, existential crises and cultural interests of that country are disproportionately represented and, while I care very much about the United States, I also want to hear about the rest of the world. I want to hear about where I live, and yet even that feels like it comes second. Yes, I am pulling all the levers that are supposed to make this happen. No, it isn’t entirely successful. I am using a paddle against a tsunami.

Once the bias is there, the snowball effect perpetuates. So often, whether I choose to or not, I am in that motel room watching a plethora of American news again, or its modern equivalent. It frustrates me so much. Most of us Westerners essentially live in America some of the time now, if we spend any period online. That’s where our presence and our attention are pointed.

Before publishing this essay, I changed every mention of “torch” to “flashlight” because I felt I had to cater to an internet that sees the first word only as a burning chunk of wood, not as a British battery-powered light source.

The internet doesn’t feel like the world any more. It hasn’t for a long time.

---

I can’t abandon the internet of today. I need it for work. I need it to promote the things I create. I need it to keep in touch with people. I’m not different or special, only someone too bought in as well, my use also going from a habit to a dependency. But it has almost entirely stopped being a place of delight and discovery. It has lost any sense of being egalitarian. So much less is new, so much less is unfamiliar. So much more has an agenda.

Algorithms, metrics and social media have quantified and gamified everything, encouraging competitiveness and narcissism. Public spaces have become arenas and arenas encourage performance. In an attention economy, the outrageous and the overblown mean a cat in a bin can have the same profile and presence as terrorists in a hotel. In spaces that now mix our friends, our parents, Leonardo Di Caprio, the Prime Minister, our favourite newspapers and our favourite sports teams, people we know and love are elevated or relegated according to how interesting an algorithm has decided they are, pushing them to the fore or pulling them from your view. “People on Twitter are the first to know,” says the social network that prides itself on immediacy more than integrity or fact-checking. Misinformation abounds. As the line between person and brand has smudged between all recognition, corporations insert themselves into and between everything else we try to examine. Surrounded by banner ads, the conflicts of polarised culture generate enormous revenue for monolithic American tech companies. As we fight, push our narratives, construct our personas or compete in the race to prove we are the most woke, we all make @Jack richer, or provide Zuck with more of our personal data.

I also find myself reminded of what Octavia Butler called “simple peck-order bullying,” the hierarchical behaviour where people want to, and now can, elevate themselves above others, according to identities they've built for themselves, to push their ideas, push their image, push their sense of superiority or push their opinions so hard that they can reshape them into facts. Anything is possible with enough pulling of enough levers. And now more people have more of those levers. And some of them love to pull and then push, pull and then push.

I don’t like what the internet has turned into, nor what it has turned people into.

So what now?

---

This was an essay inspired by an essay, inspired by an essay, which is always how it goes. Creativity is theft and anyone who says otherwise is only trying to distract you as they secretly shake you down. The eternal question that writers (or anyone creative) is supposed to dread is “Where do you get your ideas?” Because we aren’t supposed to know. But we do know. We get them from everyone else. We thieve them.

Ideas are pickpocketed from the people we pass in twisting evening alleyways, during the briefest moments of darkness and distraction. They’re caught with nets as they flutter with all the freedom of sweet springtime naivete. They’re spied upon from tremendous distances through the jealous lenses of sparkling telescopes. Nothing is truly ours and anyone wringing their words into a desperate defence of some unique capacity for originality ex nihilo is either deceptive or deluded.

(Avoid them. You’re likely their next target.)

This essay was heavily inspired by Lucy Bellwood reflecting on Nicole Brinkley. Both have written nuanced examinations of social media (focusing on Twitter) that I think you should make the time to read, but I’ll try and sum up the main thing I have taken from their writing in one line:

Social media is extremely bad, in a multitude of ways and for many complex reasons, and it is okay to leave it.

This is in so small part my interpretation, coloured by a particular belief I hold, that being that social media is extremely bad, in a multitude of ways and for many complex reasons, and it is okay to leave it. You can probably see why I approve.

There’s more to it than that. Brinkley talks about Twitter essentially breaking the way the Young Adult literature scene works, which to me is one facet of a dangerously seductive diamond that repeats many different stories of damage done by how we’ve used and gamed the internet. Her wonderful conclusion is that “These days it’s okay to not be sure what Twitter is for. We can stop going there until we figure it out.” And I so desperately wish I could stop going on the internet until I could figure out what it is for now, too. I wish it wasn’t essential. But it is, broken as it may be, breaking things as it may be.

While I don’t think leaving it is an option for me, I am using so much of it less. I have to. Social media, a place where I am shown arguments and controversy over the lives of people I care about, has become somewhere for me to hurriedly hurl out a quick update or two before I flee, escaping before I come across something, or even someone, that will make me sad. Any search box is a cause for scepticism, prompting me to analyse the results it gives and try a dozen different ways to find the same thing, just in case. Even Snopes is now a running commentary on the (American) news cycle. The best I can do whenever I think something fundamental to our society is unhealthy is to participate in that thing as little as possible. I know this limits my reach, limits my relevance and limits my success, but I also know that this makes me less unhappy and allows me to continue to feel genuine. Like I am still myself. Like I am still real. It may be apparent that my mental health has taken a few hits over the last couple of years. It doesn’t need to take any more.

I am not only unsure what Twitter is for, I am unsure what the whole internet is for.

---

There is no conclusion to this essay. It is supposed to be six thousand words of open-ended reflection. The past year or so has sometimes been a huge struggle for me and it really is true that some days I can barely make a pancake. Work has been difficult, writing has been difficult and maintaining regular Patreon updates has been difficult, with this piece being a huge challenge to finish. I think I’ve tried to make the best of things, as well as present an honest but still positive face to the world. I have piles of tasks to get through and I tackle what I can, with what feels like so much competing for my attention. At the same time, I can’t opt out of the systems I live and work inside of, much as I can’t stop paying rent or putting food in my mouth, because individuals can't kick a habit society has become dependent upon. I think the best thing I can do right now is be truthful about all that, try to remain as genuine as I can and continue to step away from what makes me uncomfortable, giving myself some distance from the things that make me unhappy.

That doesn’t mean I’m disappearing (I’m still checking in on social media, streaming on Twitch and so on), nor does it mean this change or this philosophy is forever, nor does it mean that things can’t improve. But it does mean I’m changing a few things about myself, my habits and my preferences. And it does mean I have a working, temporary, if unsatisfactory answer to the question “So what now?”

It is: “We’ll see.”

---

A big thanks to my Patreon community for the links I’m adding here, post-publication.

The first is How sex censorship killed the internet we love, on Endgadget, about controlling the internet in all sorts of ways and about what might be considered explicit (apparently a condom might be explicit).

Then there’s The internet Is Rotting, from the Atlantic, about bits of the internet that are disappearing and the loss of information that comes with it, as well as information that is overwritten and altered. We are keeping less than you might think.

Finally, The web began dying in 2014, here’s how, by André Staltz, talks about the growing prominence of big corporations (all American), what their priorities are, and what online things (services) they may bring to you.

#Patreon #America #Erving Goffman #September 11th #persona #social media #the internet #writing

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