#if doing once nice thing is an invitation for criticism what's the point

[majestyeverlasting]

A Little Less Restless

Pairing: Bucky x Reader (friends to lovers)

Summary: As Bucky finds himself within the still familiarity of Brooklyn, he comes to realize that he deserves nice things. And, most of all, that he deserves you.

Word Count: 2k

A/N: I haven't posted any new writing in a bit, and it feels good to be resolving that (yay me). Please enjoy this piece I wrote today. Lot's of fluff and very obvious feelings. It's been a while since I wrote something for him. <3

Three knocks sound on Bucky’s front door as his reflection stares back at him in the bathroom. He's leaning close to the mirror in careful criticism. Enough to see the green flecks in his irises. The freckles on his cheeks from being in the sun. The pricks of hair making up his scruff. Then he eases back and squares his shoulders. They fall after he releases a breath. 

He prays he doesn’t look as restless as he feels. 

The smile you give him when he answers the door carries a warmth he isn’t sure he deserves. But he takes it because that’s all he can do. Enjoy it like a man who’s been cold his whole life. By some miracle, he feels himself smiling back in that small, weighted way of his. It was a trade off of sorts, and now you’re even. No outstanding debts. 

He motions you inside with a soft please, and you study him once you’re in the foyer. In the few seconds that you’re silently observing, Bucky wishes he knew exactly why. As tender as your gaze is, heat was already rising to his cheeks. But like everything else when it comes to you, he takes it. Looks right back at you shyly, pushes his hands into his pockets, and waits. 

“Your hair’s shorter,” you finally say, smile growing wider. “Did you cut it?” 

“Cut it,” he repeats like a question, hands moving to run through it. The previous night creeps back to the forefront of his mind. 

When he’d gone for a walk to get some air and inadvertently found himself being drawn in by the red, white, and blue barber’s pole spiraling on the next block. It’d been ages since he’d gone to a professional, but walking inside to the faint scent of tobacco and aftershave made him feel as though he’d never stopped. 

“Mhm,” you hum, certain. 

The stumped look on his face vanishes like it was never supposed to be there. “I went and got it trimmed at a place called Ricky’s last night.” 

“And you forgot that quickly?” Next thing he knows, you’re wrapping him in an embrace, peeking up at him after a few seconds, “I’m teasing.” 

He squeezes you back tighter. 

It’s you who eventually pulls away, and he finds himself trailing you as you venture deeper into his apartment, eyes roving thoughtfully. A coffee table now complements the couch in the living room. The walls are no longer bare. At long last, the space was beginning to look more like a home. 

For the longest time, Bucky had only seen it as a place to rest his head after countless assignments that took him miles away. It didn’t need to be anything special, or so he thought. One of the first things you told him upon coming into his life was that he needed a constant. A place to come back to that he could make his own. That was his. He’d spent so much of his life serving other people and belonging to other people that he was finally learning what it meant to be his own. 

It was exhausting not being halfway across the world with a task to busy his mind. Brooklyn was still in comparison. A place where he could recognize street names, faces, point out buildings that used to be something else when he was a kid. And now there was you, who made being stateside worthwhile in a way he didn’t think was possible. He realized then, how much he’d deprived himself of meaningful connections outside of work. 

“It looks great in here, Buck. What’d I tell you?” Your earnesty is genuine. Makes him, as old and borderline cynical as he is, feel special. “You’re gonna have to start inviting me over more.” You shoot him a wink, and he freezes because of the weight of the implication. If you notice, you don’t say anything. 

A few months ago you’d been strangers crossing paths. Then acquaintances. Now friends who cared about each other a whole awful lot. Only, it was more obvious on your end. He kept most of his sentiments guarded, not yet ready for them to bleed out like an open wound. It didn’t help that you were always wielding a knife, coming closer and closer to cut through the wall he built around himself. 

“You can come over whenever you want,” he says. “I’m always here.” 

“When you’re not on assignment,” you add. “And I know. I just don’t want to scare you away.” 

Bucky frowns at the suggestion, but his lips eventually turn up. “Good thing you’re not a scary person,” he says, counting on earning a laugh. Something. 

And you do, right before shaking your head. “I’m serious.” 

“You couldn’t scare me away,” he assures. 

You nod slowly. “So how’ve you been?” There’s something else lingering on the tip of your tongue, so he waits it out. It ends up punching him right in the gut. “You look…I don’t know.” 

It hadn’t been all too long since he’d come back from Morocco. Only a week. And it would be a while before he was sent out anywhere else. His mind was in the constant process of drifting to the type of thoughts all men sifted through when they have nothing but time. Those regarding purpose, belonging, and meaning. Not to a deep, crippling degree, but enough to make him want to spring into some sort of action. Find something to indulge in that wasn’t saving the world. 

Bucky swallows and shifts his weight. “Restless,” he offers. “Didn’t think you’d notice.” 

“I’ll always notice.” Silence stretches between the two of you and a siren wails in the distance. “Maybe we can go out tonight, just you and me. Is that something you’d wanna do?” The question sounds shy. 

What you didn’t know quite yet is that he’d probably do just about anything if it was with you. 

***

At the end of the night, it’s Bucky who pulls out his card and pays for dinner. Not even giving you the chance to think about digging into your purse. As an old tune continues playing overhead, your grateful eyes sparkle at him from across the table. 

Neither of you had dined here before. It’s one of the places Bucky said used to go by a different name and was run by a different family, Italians. You liked listening to him talk about what once was because it made you realize just how much he knew. Just how thoughtful and reverent he was when it came to the good memories he had. 

Being listened to so intently was new for him. But he enjoyed it. Especially when you’d ask questions or bring up a point he made further back in the conversation. By the time the waiter comes back around with his card and his copy of the receipt, the two of you are basking in the memory of the evening and thinking about what the rest of the night may hold. 

“This was really nice,” he says, folding his napkin and setting it aside on the table. Then his expression becomes consumed by a certain solemness. “I don’t know how well it comes across, but I need you to know that I appreciate you. A lot.”

Your heart nearly bursts. “I know, Bucky,” you promise. He still looks unconvinced, so you extend your hand face up on the table for him to take. “I know.” 

The cab ride back to his place is quiet. You hold onto his hand the whole way, relishing the feeling of his thumb tracing back and forth over your skin. It’s a gesture that says I’m here with, I’ll be here as long as you’ll have me. Brooklyn passes by in rushes of darkness peppered with light. Pedestrians walk alongside the streets, some holding hands just like the two of you. It isn’t long before the driver pulls up alongside the curb of the complex. 

It isn’t until you’re in the elevator that you’re sure that you want to stay. 

The two of you get off at the fifth floor. 

“Is it okay if I spend the night? If not, I completely understand. I know it’s such short notice,” you ramble as he’s turning his key into the door. He hopes you don’t notice the way he falters. But part of him knows you do. You don’t miss anything. Luckily for him, you’re just as fazed by your own question, holding your breath. 

It’s not until you’re inside that he graces you with an answer, “‘Course you can.”

Your shoulders drop in relief. What you’re not expecting is the laugh he tries to bite back. Maybe it was mean of him, but he liked knowing he could make you sweat. Sometimes it seemed like it was only ever you who made him openly anxious. 

“You’re terrible,” you accuse, failing at restraining a smile. “Absolutely horrible.” You’d forgotten to throw away an empty water bottle before you left, and it’s the closest thing you’re able to throw his way in retaliation. He catches it and tosses it in the trash himself. 

Mischief written all along his smile when he starts towards you. 

Partly scared and partly excited, you think to flee at the last second. After a few measly steps, you’re being pulled back into the firmness of his chest. He’s sure enough laughing now, the vibration rushing straight into your back right along with the warmth of his body. So are you. He only has one arm secured around your waist and, despite the fact that he’s not even trying, it's enough to hold you. 

“Wait, wait, wait—hold on a second!” your words come out giggly both because you’re anticipating some sort of attack, and because he’s never held you quite like this before. Unlike a normal hug, this feels like he has you rather than you having each other. It’s vulnerable. Dizzying. 

“You win, you win!” 

“What?” he laughs in surprise. His mouth is so close to your ear that you shiver. “Thought you had more fight in you than that,” there’s a playful warmth to his words. 

You shake your head in denial and relax back into him. You didn’t stand a chance of winning unless he let you, and you were more than willing to tap out early. Because even so, you were still in his arms at his mercy, and somehow that felt like the safest place to be. By the time you realize both of your laughter has faded to a thoughtful silence, he’s pressing a featherlight kiss to the shell of your ear. 

When he lowers his arm from around your waist, you turn around to face him. 

There’s a ghost of a smile on his face. He suddenly looks boyish, younger. Having crawled out of whatever shell of crushing expectation and responsibility he usually resided within. 

When he cups your face and presses his lips to yours, his shoulders relax and his breaths slow. And for once, he indulges. In you. In the prospect of having someone to lean on and being leaned on in return. It’s a reminder that he’s allowed to experience nice things. To have a life to look forward to outside of lending himself to cause after cause. 

You’re soft, and warm, and everything good a person could be. He pulls away slowly after a while, blinking down at you with heavy eyelids. You’re looking right back at him like he’s the world itself. 

“Maybe you’re not so terrible,” you whisper, smiling. 

Of everything he was feeling now, restless wasn’t one of them. 

_

Thank you so much for reading! I promise I see every like, comment, and reblog and appreciate them all very much. 

To join my “taglist,” follow @taleseverlasting

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes imagine #bucky imagine #bucky barnes fluff #bucky fluff #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky x fem reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x y/n

[thatgirl4815]

Sand & Ep11

I keep remembering this ask I got a while back, and I think it's important now more than ever.

If I was Sand, I personally would not give Boeing the time of day for what he did to me. I would be livid. I would never speak to him again.

But Sand is not me. Sand is more forgiving than is probably healthy for him. Even though it is something I hope he works on for his own benefit, it doesn't change the fact that for the moment, that is who he is. That's his flaw just as much as it his strength.

Caring for people is generally regarded as a positive trait because it is, but there's a such thing as caring too much for people who do not show that same care back to you. That is the position Sand seems to find himself in continuously. I believe Ray does care about Sand, but it took so long for that to be communicated to Sand in the way he deserves. The reason their relationship has lasted is because Sand does not demand that reassurance the way many people would, even though he might want it. Words of affirmation are not at the top of Sand's love language list.

Abandonment

I don't want to prescribe any definitive long-term childhood response to Sand from what little information we have, but given the emphasis on Sand's absent father, I think it's safe to say that Sand faces some abandonment issues. Growing up, he only ever had his mom; of course he was bound to cling to her very tightly. That is where I imagine his caring behavior has stemmed from most. Additionally, having so few people on his life that he could rely on, he learned to be a support system for others and learn not to complain for what he has.

I think Sand is in a position where he objectively understands that he is mistreated. He admits as much to both Ray and Nick. But he can’t break out of this cycle because there’s a deep-seated fear in him. A fear of being alone? A fear of being abandoned? A fear of not being good enough or “special” to anyone?

I have been wrestling with myself over the past day about Sand’s behavior in Ep11. And I’ve realized that a reason why I feel so ambivalent about it—a reason I don’t like to admit—is because it’s related to Boeing, not Ray.

Sand has received the same criticism he’s facing in Ep11 in past episodes: i.e., “He needs to know his worth and tell off Ray for what he’s doing to him.” A very similar situation has now arisen with Boeing. Sand is once again trapped in the cycle. He is nice to Boeing because even after what Boeing does to him, he cannot handle the thought of banishing him from his life for good—not when Boeing is still here and willing to engage with him. Again, we see the conflict between what he knows he should do and what he defaults to.

I empathize with Sand’s plight here, and I understand that it is difficult for him to react to Boeing and Ray. Where my frustrations arise are in the way he reacts to Ray’s reaction.

Ray is insanely passive aggressive at the end of Ep11. Sand has seen this all before; Ray lingers at the bar after being told to go home, he invites Boeing over without really wanting to invite him over, and he invites Sand to get naked in the pool with them. Each time, Boeing eggs him on by agreeing, playing up the guise of “we’re all friends here!” while simultaneously making both pointed and subtle jabs at his previous relationship with Sand (the most obvious being the “we’ve already seen every part of each other” line).

I’m of the belief that Sand is very aware of how Ray feels, especially in that ending shot when he looks between Ray and Boeing. But he does not ever confront Boeing or disengage from the situation. He’s playing into Boeing’s guise, and both he and Ray know it.

In virtually every part of Part 4, we see Sand caught in this same perpetual cycle where he lets people walk all over him. While I empathize with his struggles, as I said, there's a part of me that believes his boyfriend’s discomfort with the situation should supersede that. He committed to Ray, not Boeing, and this situation with Boeing is posing a threat to that.

This is not me saying that Sand needs to scream at Boeing and cuss him out for what he did to him. But I do think Sand needs to acknowledge much more firmly that he is Ray’s boyfriend. Sand can be nice to Boeing and offer him friendship, but he cannot allow Boeing to make advances on him and hang around with them when Boeing so clearly has other intentions. (There’s an argument that maybe Boeing does genuinely want a friendship with Sand, but after the way he talks with Sand and how he handled the TopMew situation, I don’t believe that for a second).

This isn’t easy for Sand, but when Ray is right there, he has to be more direct. Boeing was his past but Ray is his present. Much like how Sand encouraged Ray to go to rehab, I think Ray will encourage Sand to stand up for himself against Boeing.

#I contemplated this a lot as I wrote it #Sand is so interesting in that one of his greatest strengths can also be turned against him so easily #I don’t think he’s to blame for his turmoil here but I think his approach to the situation where Ray is involved could be better #sending Ray home so he can talk with his ex still strikes me as both odd and just…rude? to Ray who came there to watch him play? #cause I hardly imagine Ray came there to drink and his friends are nowhere to be found #butttttt I understand Sand wants to talk things out with Boeing privately too #only friends the series #only friends #I know there are a lot of conflicting feelings on this but hey #that's what makes it fun #ofts #sandray #raysand #raysan #sanray #firstkhaotung #only friends sand #sandboeing #Boeing #Ray pakorn #sand X ray #Ray X sand #only friends episode 11 #only friends meta #only friends analysis #ofts ep11 #first kanaphan #btw I'm still madly in love with sand

[luck-and-larceny]

Dowdy

She was going to stop seeing him anyway.

He didn't know that, of course. As far as he was concerned, things were going great. 

Things weren't going great.

She wasn't a nice person, not by any stretch of the imagination. Insincere, fickle, teasing, and difficult, Malika was never more invested in someone more than she was invested in herself. She was selfish and unbothered by it. Everyone, to her mind, would be a lot happier if they allowed themselves to be more selfish.

And this guy she'd gone on a handful of dates with was certainly selfish.

But he was also mean.

And it was a boring, unfun, unpleasant sort of meanness. Being mean could be entertaining! Malika'd always enjoyed a good biting back and forth between two shitty people who clearly were having a good time with their horribleness. But the participants had to enjoy it or what was the point?

There was nothing joyful or entertaining about this man's meanness. He didn't seem to get anything out of it but anger and an inflated sense of superiority. He brought the mood around him down with it. That was the exact opposite of fun and Malika was only ever invested so long as there was fun to be had.

Oh, sure, he was attractive. He had the prettiest brown eyes she'd ever seen. And she'd never dated a Viera before so that was novel and exciting. But there would be more pretty brown eyes out there for her to marvel at and he wasn't the only Viera in the world. Maybe the next one would at least have fun when he was being a bastard. 

Tassilo was always particularly shitty when it came to fashion. On every one of the four or five dates she'd gone on with him, he'd commented on how little the others around them seemed to care about their appearance. He'd criticize color choices, material choices, shoe choices, jewelry, hair styles– really anything at all– as though it were fascinating conversation that made him look particularly gifted at fashion himself. 

It didn't. He looked fine. But his snide, angry comments actually made him look less fashionable and less attractive, not more.

So she had no choice. She had to end it. 

And if she was going to end it, she was going to have fun with it.

Why do anything at all if it wasn't fun?

He'd invited her to a fancy art gala. He'd told her he'd bought a new, tailored outfit for it. He would be wearing new, expensive boots. He couldn't wait to see what she'd wear.

She looked forward to showing him.

He did not appreciate being shown.

"How do I look?" she asked, turning in a circle to give him the full view from all angles. "I worked hard on it."

"What have you…" his face was red either from anger or embarrassment, perhaps both.

"You don't like it?"

'It' was a literal burlap sack– well, several burlap sacks that she'd fashioned into the most shapeless dress imaginable. It hung, unflatteringly, straight down, somehow managing to avoid every sensual curve of her body in the process. It was completely shapeless. She'd worked hard on that and was genuinely quite pleased to have accomplished it. With it she wore gray shoes she'd fashioned from cheap felt. They were extremely poorly made, given she had no experience making shoes, and they hardly functioned at all. In fact, she had to wait to put them on once she'd gotten close to the date spot because she knew they'd be too ruined to be effective otherwise.

She'd chopped her long black hair to her shoulders. She'd done it herself with no measuring and no care. It did not look good.

Her nail polish was chipped.

Her jewelry was cheap and did not match.

She wore no makeup on her face.

He had no way of knowing how much effort she'd just spent to look like she'd made no effort at all.

"You've done this on purpose," he said matter of factly, but there was a dangerous chill to his voice.

Oh. Ok. Maybe he did know!

"You've done this to embarrass me."

Wow. Damn. He was surprisingly perceptive. Credit where credit was due. 

"So…" she said slowly, playing stupid, "You're saying you don't like it?"

"I was excited to see you. I've been excited all week. And you ruined it. You ruined it!"

She smiled. "Yeah. Ruining stuff is kind of my thing. I'm very good at it.”

"You can't go in there."

"Oh, I bet I can." 

He bristled. "You can't go in there with me. I won't let you. It's not happening."

"If you go in there," she said sweetly, "I will find every excuse to stand next to you. If you are embarrassed now, I urge you to consider just how embarrassed you'll be if I make a scene."

He stared at her.

She stared right back.

He'd always had a million things to say before. Now he couldn't even think of one. Defeated, he relented. 

"Ok. Let's go in together."

"Wait, what??"

She hadn't expected this response. 

"You win," he said. "Let's go in together. Let's have this last date. We'll look at art. I won't comment on your clothes. After, we'll go back to my place where I'll angrily take them off you. In the morning you break up with me the right way and steal one of my favorite shirts. You suffer for several moons while your hair, which you hastily chopped off just to spite a guy you knew for one moon, grows back. I spend the same amount of time resenting you until I realize you're not worth resenting because you're an insane, petty bitch."

Wow.

Ok.

So he was capable of being interesting while being mean.

This was, in fact, the most interesting he had ever been and she loved it!

She absolutely loved it.

Fuck! 

She grinned. It was genuine. "Ok," she said, taking his arm,"You'll have to point out your favorite shirt to me though. I've only known you a moon. I haven't figured it out yet."

He chuckled ruefully and led her inside, "Of course. I'd hate to make the break up difficult on you, after all."

They would date for several more moons until he eventually broke up with her for being insincere, fickle, teasing, and difficult. She still stole his favorite shirt. And left her burlap dress behind in his closet as a souvenir.

#FFXIV #FFXIVwrite2023 #ffxivwrite #Writings #Dowdy #She can't win every time

[corimoss]

I recently purchased and read a collection of The Doll's House comics and thought I'd discuss some of my thoughts on the characterization differences of the Corinthian in the comics versus the television adaptation.

To begin, I believe the most striking way in which they differ is the addition of a certain agency and notoriety the Corinthian is given in the show. The meeting with Roderick Burgess, manipulation of Ethel Cripps and her son, tracking of Jed and Rose Walker, and the general interest in destroying the Dreaming and Morpheus is virtually nonexistent in the comics. I would say that in the novel of this specific arc, he acts primarily on his base desires and lacks further consideration of his actions or goals post-present.

A quote that I think about fairly often and I feel summarizes it best is as follows: "If the guy’s been around for a millenia, he’s taken all of the low hanging fruit," Holbrook says. "Now he’s become a connoisseur of things. He likes the nice delicacies of life. He’s a sommelier, if you want to go that far. He’s a real tastemaker, and a really refined, elegant, sophisticated guy."

This is, I feel, a phenomenal summarization of the characterization of the Corinthian in the show. He's taken the hundred years that Dream has been imprisoned and done something with it. He creates a name for himself—something recognizable and impressive to other collectors. In the comics, he has to seek out his own invitation to the Cereal Convention and isn't even named the guest of honor until The Family Man cancels at the last minute.

In reference to the plot, the comic version falters heavily in comparison to the show. He is mentioned few and far between with most of his scenes only showing various murders he's committed on the way to the convention. He seems to kill with little direction or discrepancy—simply taking whatever is offered to him. I feel as though the selection is really what sets the two apart. The purpose in why rather than what. Both characterizations kill, of course, but the live action Corinthian uses it to propel his own story forward while the other does it because it's what he wants in the moment—all he knows.

I think this is most pointedly noted in the Corinthian's relationship with Jed. While in the show he spends ample time tracking, finding, and coercing Jed into helping him, in the comics he has no knowledge or interest to Jed's purpose in the larger plot. He simply finds him on the side of the road and plans to kill him as a treat to himself later. Once again, same actions with different purposes.

Overall, this is not a criticism on either version of the character. I realize that in this point of time there was likely not much heavy consideration into the personality of a someone that was planned to be killed off in the same arc that he was to be introduced in. Given that The Doll's House #2 was released in 1989, that's nearly 23 years of character consideration and development. Perhaps the show's version could be considered a more accurate depiction of what the character was meant to be or had grown into over further issues. A slight, more considerate reset.

I personally enjoy the comparison that can be drawn from the show's version of the Corinthian and his collection of murderers to the way Morpheus rules over the Dreaming. Even though he seeks so heavily to become his own man, the Corinthian can't help but mirror his creator's attitude and faults. He puts himself up on a pedestal above his "creations" and seeks to be admired and feared. He is as much a dark mirror to Morpheus as he is to humanity.

For me, this confrontation and commentary highlights the change Morpheus' personality from beginning of the season to the end. The Corinthian is one of Morpheus' closest and most cherished creations, someone that has known him for thousands of years. To see the nightmare imitate him, and to do so as a self-righteous benevolent ruler, I believe is really a wake-up call to Morpheus about how his personality and conduct is being received to those around him. Looking at it in this light, perhaps his comment about the Corinthian's poor creation can be additionally implied to Morpheus' own image as one of the Endless.

I think they did a wonderful job bringing more life and purpose to the personality of the Corinthian in the live adaptation. They took the base character and really delved into why he is the way he is and then took those answers and asked "Okay, now what can we do with that?". Each of his actions, relationships, and conversations all do a wonderful job reflecting what we already know and revealing new insight and relatability that makes it that much easier to sympathize with and care for him.

#personal #collection #the corinthian #corinthian #the sandman #sandman

[tiny-cloud-of-flowers]

Okay. As intended: the Clio rambles. This is probably going to be very long and disjointed, but hopefully that is tolerable.

To try and sum them up:

Clio will now have pointed ears once she becomes a Spirit, and I've figured out a way to justify this in the context of what those mean in this series.

I'm fairly confident that I now know when Clio becomes a Spirit, and the circumstances surrounding her doing so. The only thing I'm still slightly missing is how she would actually know how to do it, but the game doesn't exactly explain that when it happens later on to another character, so..

Her story now follows that of the canon KHUX player quite closely, including the bluff at the final battle. A main deviation is that she would have still been hesitant, but ultimately did accept the invitation to the Dandelions, so she comes back with Ephemer and Skuld to gather survivors instead of being one.

The one thing I still don't know at all is how things end - whether I leave Clio in KHUX, or bring her forwards, and if so how and how far.

Okay, now for the actual rambles. Suggestions/comments/criticism/etc. is very much encouraged, because right now I do feel like I'm talking to the wall a bit.

What first started things off, I think, was me trying to justify porting the pointed ears that Clio has in FFXIV back to her original KHUX iteration, because they look cute on her. Both games have characters with these ears, but they mean different things in each one. In FFXIV they're just a natural trait of any Elezen - or Lalafell, but Clio's specifically are because she's half-Elezen there. Conversely, in Kingdom Hearts, they're quite specifically gained from exposure to darkness (or in most characters' cases from being possessed by Xehanort - it's just that he himself is implied to have gained them from darkness exposure in the first place, since he doesn't have pointed ears or golden eyes yet in Dark Road).

Now, Clio is very much not someone who feels the need to use darkness - she has strong light in her heart, and wields it valiantly. So, it wouldn't make very much sense or be very in-character for her to start falling to darkness and gain them as a result of the effect it has on her heart and body. However, as part of the story of my selfship, Clio becomes Aria's Chirithy Spirit (since she was never given one like she should have been, and Clio becoming hers allows her to survive the story). Chirithies are known to be tied to their individual Keyblade wielders, in that if the wielder dies or falls to darkness then so does the Chirithy - so, since Aria is already technically fallen to darkness by virtue of being a Heartless, it makes sense that Clio would also appear to be affected by that darkness (though I don't think she herself would actually become corrupted by it, necessarily - it just looks like she might be). Therefore, I can use that as a reason why Clio has pointed ears, implying darkness exposure, but is still very much a Keyblade wielder of light!

That was the first thing, which then led into the even more rambly part of more general story logistics - specifically, the idea of Clio taking the place of the player in KHUX, but also things like how when and why Clio becomes Aria's Spirit, and what her doing so would mean for her own Chirithy.

To the first part (Clio taking the role of the player): it would be a nice way of giving her more plot importance, as well as making the game’s story itself more important to my selfship’s story. Clio is absolutely the sort of person to make friends with lots of people regardless of their Unions, after all, and it can be fun thinking about how she might interact with the main cast. It also makes the final battle in particular much more fitting: Clio can pull off the trick of being possessed by a true Darkness much more convincingly given that she actually has a supply of darkness to safely draw from - Aria’s.

However, some details would have to be taken into account; firstly, the fact that the player canonically refuses to become a Dandelion, whereas Clio definitely is, to the point that her being one is how Aria is able to reunite with her and make it back to Daybreak Town, as I’ve previously written. However, what I could do in theory is say that, because the two things I wrote as follow-ups to that first piece were both in the Darkling AU, then Clio escaping the war with the Dandelions is also only the case in that AU, leaving the default version of events to line up better with the player’s story in canon where they refuse to join for the sake of those who were not chosen to become Dandelions (which for Clio would absolutely include people like Aria).

This can then in theory lead on to the other big thing I still need to work out, which is how/when/why Clio becomes Aria’s Chirithy/Spirit. For the when and the why.. if Clio is already friends with Skuld and Ephemer like the player is by the time the Keyblade War breaks out, then maybe she can go with them to try and rescue people from the battlefield once it’s all over.. and come across Aria there, as she had been bearing witness to the war but became injured after trying to step in to defend her Nobody counterpart. In the Darkling AU, Aria simply escapes into the realm of darkness at this stage, allowing her injuries to heal and being determined to find her way back to Clio (though being in that realm for too long is what then turns her more into a Darkling). Here, though.. maybe she can be rescued and brought along to where the Dandelions escape to (like the player is in canon, ironically), but is too injured to wake in a world so filled with light, and so Clio decides to (and is somehow able to) dive into her dream - thus becoming a Spirit, in the same way that Riku does much later on? So, that potentially sorts out the Chirithy logistics (albeit I'm not quite sure what would happen to Clio's own Chirithy if she were to become the same type of entity herself).

The other way in which Clio’s story could differ from the canon player’s is at the aforementioned final battle. In the game, the player pretends to be possessed by a true Darkness in order to get Ephemer and Skuld to seal them and four of the true Darknesses away, which leaves the Union leaders with more lifeboats to escape the destruction of the data Daybreak Town. I’ve already said that Clio would be able to bluff this very effectively due to being connected to Aria (who, as a Heartless, is already an entity consumed by darkness), but.. in the game, when this happens, the player taunts the Darknesses before being attacked by them and falling in battle, letting their heart move on and be reborn. And I perhaps understandably don't want that to happen to Clio, unless I say that that's how Arete happens.

At the moment, I'm also not 100% sure what Aria is doing at this time. What currently feels like the most "keeping things consistent with how I had been thinking of them" idea is that Aria takes herself back off into the realm of darkness again to avoid the destruction of the data Daybreak Town, while Clio can then be tangled up with the finale plot alongside the Union leaders, like the canon player - but then when Clio tricks the true Darknesses, she's able to slip out of where she's sealed them thanks to Aria (somehow), so the two can escape via the realm of darkness and subsequently are able to survive together until.. well, maybe Missing Link? When Clio gets out of the darkness but is kept alive/essentially made immortal by Aria still being in there? But, it seems difficult to think that Clio would be able to escape in a way that true Darkness can't, especially if she's going into the realm of darkness to do so. Maybe we can fight them off together? But that's four of the true Darknesses against only two Keyblade wielders, one of which is already a Heartless (and therefore, entity of darkness).. which seems a bit too tricky

Alternatively, if I did stick to giving Clio the player's canon fate.. I'm wondering whether Aria would be able to salvage her heart somehow, preserving her until such a time as the pair can be together again in the light. There's an argument to be made that, as a Spirit and therefore technically a type of Dream Eater, maybe Clio can only appear in Aria's dreams - but Aria doesn't tend to dream in the first place, because I don't. I am still attached to the idea of her being alive and present, though - maybe even ending up on Destiny Islands, to the point of meeting the main/non-KHUX characters. There's still that one piece of writing I haven't finished yet about that. And I can technically do that with Player?? But it's still not clear how they ended up there, honestly..

I think my uncertainly mostly comes from a combination of the following: I don't want to kill Clio off for the sake of sticking to canon, because I don't want things to end with KHUX, but I don't think she would be able to persist in the realm of darkness like Aria does. Maybe I can pull a Nimda and canonically detour her into FFXIV, but I don't really like the sound of that for Clio specifically. So who knows?? I certainly don't!

I think this last part may have to wait until Missing Link is out, and we know how it ties to KHUX more concretely. The timing of how far apart each game is from the others is still up in the air, after all, and seeing how connected the two truly are might maybe help me figure out if I do indeed want to sacrifice self-indulgence (of keeping Clio alive and incorporating her into other games) for narrative satisfaction.

People who know KHUX: please critique. And anyone in general who has something to comment on about this: please also comment.

#heart of the void #info posts #selfshipping #love: crown of clovers (clio) #selfship: of flowers unchained (clio/aria) #of lux and daybreak (union x) #I told you that this would be rambly #self‑insert: darkness' champion (aria) #of flowers unchained: darkling aria AU #friend: transient silver (ephemer) #friend: fate of the future (skuld) #all those were sort of mentioned #how much have i even written here. it's a lot. it's very messy. #it's twenty to two in the morning #if all you want to know are the conclusions then i've put them above the readmore #if you're interested in seeing my reasoning and how I got to those conclusions then that is what is below the readmore #if you have any questions then *please* ask

[theflyindutchwoman]

Tim in Metro was quite a sight - and I'm not just talking about how good he looked in his new uniform. What I found interesting is how every scene about Metro had a slight edge to it… It was like standing at crossroads and not knowing which direction to take : will Tim enjoy staying there? Or is he going to leave?

Let's start with the training sessions. They were a really nice touch to highlight the difference between patrol and Metro. Which isn't necessarily a knock on patrol by the way. They after all started there as well. But they're right to emphasise that Metro is a complete different beast. They're a tactical response team, specialised in very specific situations (like hostage rescue mission). Think of SWAT… Not everyone makes the cut. And Tim has some extra challenges here. He's not just starting a new job and joining a new team. He's also replacing their team leader : he's in charge of them. So it's imperative that he gets up to speed. Add the fact that Tim is a creature of habit and likes his comfort zone. He spent more than 12 years on patrol, doing things a certain way, with people he got to know and trust along the way. Now he has to practically start over. That's a lot of things to process at the moment. It feels off because he is off-balance. He has to find his new equilibrium. That may take some time. And maybe he won't find it. Nevertheless, they all worked effortlessly once they were on the mission, so they're at least off to a good start.

And as harsh and critical as they may have sounded, the team seemed to be rather encouraging towards Tim. There was no real friction or hard feelings. They didn't openly resent him for Hicks leaving or anything of the sort. They were challenging him but they all congratulated him when he succeeded a training exercise and they made him part of the team with the unicorn stickers prank. Again there was a slight edge : at this point, Tim doesn't know them and they don't know him… They're practically observing each other. And while his leadership was questioned when they were staging the rescue mission, it was actually for a valid reason : Angela is a detective, so not exactly the first person one would choose as a spotter. And as a leader, choosing an outsider to do the job one of your teammates can do might send a message that you don't trust them. But once Tim explained his reasoning, his teammate had no problem with apologising and giving Angela credit and following orders. Even Pine, who may not be all warm and fuzzy, seemed quite supportive. When Tim was frustrated after his first training round, she was quick to remind him that they all went through the same period of adjustment. And when he was on the outside, she didn't hesitate to mend the bridge and invite him to join them for drinks. Baby steps…

I know some people are worried that this new team won't be supportive of Chenford… But so far there's nothing to really indicate that. To be fair, only two people have really talked in the team, so it's hard to say what they think. And that's IF they even find out about them or make a deal out of it… But for what it's worth, Nyla told Lucy that Tim's predecessor, Hicks, had a wife who worked for the department and he seemed to get along with the rest of them…

So I honestly could see it go either way… The next episodes should clue us in further on whether Tim is going to embrace this new position or not. I will just say that adding more recurring characters at this point is a challenge of its own, as the cast is already quite large, so we might never get to really know the rest of the Metro team. The same way we barely see Caradine when Angela and Nyla are concerned, we might just end up following Tim (and maybe Lt. Pine), with the rest of the team in the background.

#The rookie #Chenford #Tim Bradford #the rookie speculation #Episode Tag #Character Study #5.14

[dazzasarchives]

Fantastic Four Volume 1 Issue 7.

Alright in the last issue the Fantastic Four faced off against two of their most well known villains, Namor the Sub-Mariner, and Dr Doom. This issue introduces a new villain from us from the mysterious planet X. Let's see what shall happen shall we?

After the Fantastic Fours previous missions, they have been regarded as heroes of earth. Everyone loves them, celebrities and other famous elites are coming are all wanting to meet the Fantastic Four. Well with all the well wishes the Fantastic Four are then invited to a dinner at the White House.

As they are headed to be honored by our nations leaders, the mysterious Kurrgo, from planet X sends down his robot to, alter how people see the Fantastic Four. In doing so the assembly gathered to honor our heroic team then begins to attack them. The Fantastic Four escape in very cartoonish ways, but it's very fun.

The Fantastic Four then discover the ship of the Robot fo Kurrgo. They and the Robot meet atop the Baxter Building, where he states the foundations of his villainous plan. All of earth is against the Fantastic Four, and the only way to stop it is for the team to travel to the planet X.

The Fantastic Four arrive on planet X where they meet Kurrgo, the master of planet X. Kurrgo tells the team that an asteroid is hurtling towards his world aimed at destroying the planet. He is wanting the Fantastic Four, mainly Reed Richards, to figure out a solution because they only have two spaceships on their planet.

The Four try to battle Kurrgo's Robot but it is to no avail. Mr Fantastic then agrees to help Kurrgo and his people. This has the team working insanely fast to find a solution to their problem.

Mister Fantastic creates a shrink ray, able to shrink down the entire population and place them on a single ship to a new hospitable world. Kurrgo decides to no longer regrow his people once they reach their new home, so he can assume control once again. Though he is too late, as the Fantastic Four, and the people of Planet X are safely en route to either their homes, or to the new homes they will find in the cosmos.

Yeah so the plot for this comic isn't all that much. Though it is very nice to see Reed use his brain more, I've noticed that after this point he is a bit more of a critical thinker despite some of his solutions being very corny. Now let's get to our character analysis.

I like Reed much more in this one. He's starting to use his intellect more instead of just proclaiming he's a genius. He's also stepping into the role of leader much better than I assumed he would this early on. Anyway I would say my opinion has yet again grown.

The Human Torch, I actually like him a bit more in this comic. He goes to make a sacrifice play at one point but he does survive it. Also I'm starting to like The Thing and his relationship much more now. Id say my opinion of Johnny has gone up this year.

Sue, you know it's bad when this is the only character I have to go back and flip through to see what she's done. Oh that's right damsel in distress unless chased by united states military which she's able to easily evade. My opinion on Sue stays the same, I don't think it'll get much better anytime soon.

The Thing, again I love him in this issue though he takes a back seat during act two, but act one he really shines. He relationship with the Human Torch has gotten better, and he finally feels fine with being how he is at least for now. My opinion on the Thing is unchanged but still my most favorite member of the team.

Kurrgo, and his robot are really fun villains. They're goofy and the designs are just completely out there, mainly for Kurrgo though. When I first saw him I thought his big head was just covered in wrinkly skin, until I realized it's covered in fur. I also like that his robot is just called Kurrgo's Robot, instead of Kurrgbot, not every villain needs a Doombot, or a Lexbot. I also love that the main problem for Kurrgo is that his people only have two spaceships, and they could have gone anywhere in the universe but they went to Earth. Anyway they're pretty fun villains.

Alright that's all for this post, we'll also be taking a short break away from the Fantastic Four as we expand the Hero roster of the Marvel Universe. The next hero we will be taking a look at might astonish you. Until next time.

I do not own any of the images above they are all property of Marvel Comics.

If you would like to visit the site that I use to follow these stories in chronological order please visit this link here:

Want to take a look at the next post in this series? Then go ahead and follow this link here:

Did you miss the previous post? Would you like to go back and view it? Well then follow this link right here to do so:

Or is this your first time seeing my posts, and would you like to start all the way at the very beginning? Well then follow this link here:

#marvel #marvel comics #marvel universe #earth 616 #marvel 616 #ff #mr fantastic #mister fantastic #reed richards #invisible girl #susan storm #the human torch #fantastic four #the thing #johnny storm #ben grimm #benjamin grimm #kurrgo #planet x

[agirlattea]

Sincerely, a Rainbow of stories for you: 

Please Tell Me the Story of the Rainbow: Part 7

(Location: Exhibition at an Old Castle, Central Kingdom, Day Time)

Figaro: That plan sounds good. That cunning tendency you two have, I don't hate it. 

Snow: Then feel free to join us, Figgie. 

White: We’ll go all out to win everyone over! 

Snow & White: Yay! 

Figaro: As you should. After all, we are “good” wizards. 

Following the fading sounds of chattering voices disappearing into the back of the venue were Murr and Shylock. 

Murr: Hey, do you think it would be easier to win over the guests if something terrible happened? 

Shylock: That may be the case. However, to wish for such a thing before an incident even occurs... 

Murr: Do I have to stay out of trouble? 

Shylock: Not at all. You are free to do as you wish. 

I’d never wish for such an incident but… the immorality of expecting such an event is irresistibly tempting. 

Murr: What a nice expression! Incidents are exciting! 

Shylock: Fufu. However, that may not be our role this time. I’m afraid it’d be all too easy to forget what is expected of us while engrossed in these strange exhibits. 

Murr: Well, that’s fine! It's a waste not to enjoy the fun things in front of you before they’re gone! 

Shylock: Yes, let's go. To truly enjoy this invitation. 

A few paces ahead of them was Faust. Lennox's large shadow trailed not far behind him. 

Faust: I don't really feel like going through with this, but... it can't be helped now that we’ve already accepted. 

It would be inconvenient if something were to happen and they blamed us for not being able to handle it.

Lennox: Once again, your words are misleading, Lord Faust. You mean to participate in order to spare the younger wizards from criticism in case of an emergency. 

Faust: You’re wrong. 

Lennox: I have a rough idea of ​​the venue’s security arrangements. I do not believe there are any weak points. 

Faust: I thought the same... it's a pretty large venue, so it seems the magical exhibits are scattered throughout. Let's go up to the top floor, and make our rounds as we head down. 

Lennox: I will accompany you.

Faust: Very well. If anything unusual occurs, I’ll investigate first. While I do that, you should guide visitors away from the area… wait no. Why are you even following me? Go somewhere else. 

Lennox: If an incident does occur, I believe it would be best to respond in the way you suggested. 

Faust… 

Lennox: Should I leave? 

Faust: I understand, do as you like. 

Lennox: Thank you, I will. 

Nero: Y’know, Riquet, the party on the last day will have a buffet. 

Riquet: What is a buffet? 

Bradley whistled as he snatched the informational pamphlet that Nero attempted to show Rike out of his hands. 

Bradley: Y’ take as much food as you want ‘nd pile it onto yer plate. 

Which ones to choose… well, isn't this a large selection? As long as I can eat my fill, I don't mind attending the party at least. 

Riquet: Getting to eat everything I want… I feel as though I will fall into depravity. 

Bradley: What’s wrong with that? You’ve never been to a place like this before, right? You should just do whatever you like.

Riquet: I will not. And it’s easier to lose your way among so many options. 

Nero: That’s fine. There are lots’o high quality options ‘ere, and it’s yer dinner, so it’s okay to indulge for a bit. 

Riquet: …Really? 

Nero: I’m sure they’ll also have your favorite: Bread Pudding. 

Riquet: Will you make it for me? 

Nero: I don’t make the food here though… 

Riquet: Is that… so… 

Nero: The chefs ‘ere ‘re better ‘nd more skilled than me. 

Riquet: But I like your cooking.  

Nero: Haha, it’s an honor. If y’ find anything y’ like let me know and I’ll make it when we get back to the house. 

Bradley: Oh, isn't that nice? I guess you’ll need to try a whole bunch o’ new things. 

Riquet: Okay! 

Mithra: That is what a buffet is. If you do not finish every dish laid out for you, you will be killed.

Mitile: What?! No one’s going to die! All you have to do is pick out as much food as you like and eat it. 

Mithra: How much is “as much as you like”? Does that mean I can eat it all myself? 

Mitile: According to the rules, there’s nothing wrong with that, but it's not good to keep everything to yourself. We all have to share with each other. 

Mithra: Well, it will depend on my mood. Where is the buffet displayed? 

Mitile: The buffet isn’t an exhibit though… 

Owen: It doesn't matter, I'm not interested in such a small reward. Can I leave? 

Rustica: You can decide whether or not you are interested after looking around a little more. 

There may be rewards that will make you much happier than parties and luxurious meals. 

Chloe: That's right, it’d be a waste to miss a reward just because you left early. 

Owen: There’s no way something that would satisfy me would be in a place like this. 

Chloe: Where would it be? 

Owen: …Somewhere? 

Rustica: If it exists somewhere in this world, it may very well be here. 

You may encounter it today, tomorrow, or even in a hundred years. 

Owen: You’re so annoying. Can I cover that noisy mouth?

Rustica: If something is going to be covered, I’d rather it be my ears. When you cover your ears, you can hear the sounds inside you echoing, right? It’s so exciting to hear the voice of your heart. Go ahead and do so. 

Chloe: Oh, everyone’s gone ahead. Look, Cain is waiting for us. 

Cain: Hey! Don’t get lost. 

Owen: Ha? Who’s lost? 

Rustica: What should we do? Are you lost? 

Owen: I’m not trying to be.* 

Chloe: Rustica gets lost all the time. 

Rustica: Haha, that’s right. But maybe I… maybe it’s because I want to get lost. Thank you, Chloe. 

Chloe: Wait, why? 

Rustica: I mean… I’m able to get lost because there’s someone looking for me. 

Arthur: What is this statue...? 

Cain: Arthur, did something happen? 

Arthur: Look at this.

Cain: What a strange statue. There are so many  tails on the body. Let’s see… the title is... "Oz"?! 

Oz: ...What has happened? 

Arthur: Lord Oz! I-it’s nothing at all. 

Oz:  You’ve seen the sculpture? 

Arthur: Oh! 

Cain: I thought it was some creepy monster, but it looks like it’s a figure of some legend about Oz. You sure have a lot of stories surrounding you, Oz.

Oz: I have no interest in what others say about me. Let the masses do as they wish.

Arthur: However...I cannot accept the display of a statue that claims to depict Lord Oz, but instead resembles a demonic beast rather than a person. I regret putting organizers in this position, but I must ask them to remove this statue... 

Cain: Huh? The statue has a numberer next to the title. This one’s nine. 

Arthur: What? 

Cain: One two three… this corner is entirely sculptures of “Oz”. 

Oz: There are roughly twenty of them. 

Arthur: The entire corner depicts legends surrounding Lord Oz… did the artists research beforehand? The quality of these statues are amazing, but... 

Oz: This one resembles the Leviathan, though the tail is now the head 

Cain: Regardless of their image, they all definitely carry a dignified presence. It's certainly a sight to see so many "Oz" statues lined up. Hey Oz, could you stand over here for a second?

Oz: … Here? 

Cain: Yep! What a cool sight. Next to all these statues, the real Oz looks like a piece of artwork.  

Arthur: … Even so, these monstrous figures do not resemble Lord Oz at all. The real Lord Oz is the coolest! 

Cain: That’s, right, he’s the best out of all of them! 

Oz: … 

Arthur: Oh! …Lord Oz, could you stand over here next? 

Oz: If that is what you desire. 

Arthur: Cain, what do you think? From this position, does it not look like Lord Oz has subjugated a gigantic monster? 

Cain Definitely. He gives off the impression of absolute power! It definitely feels like he's the pinnacle of all the other Ozs. 

Arthur: They are not Lord Oz. 

Cain: Oz definitely looks powerful... but from this pose, it looks like it’d be difficult for your opponent to give up. Oz, could you move over there next?

Oz: … 

Faust: They’ve collected so many rare gemstones from all over the world... I'm not particularly knowledgeable, but the quality of the items is apparent. It's clear the event is by an art dealer. He seems like quite a knowledgeable man. 

Lennox: The venue’s security seems to be good, too. As Lords Snow and White said, he seems to be quite an influential person. 

Nero: After all, the jewelry here is different from the ones lined up at market stalls. These ‘re every bit worth the value. 

Faust: Leno, take a look. Apparently this ore is mined in the Southern Country. It’s quite beautiful. 

Lenox: There is a lot of undeveloped land in the Southern Country. I hear the remote lands far from settlements are rich in minerals. 

Bradley: Oh, so it’s like a treasure trove lying untouched? Sounds like someone could make a profit if it was exploited. 

Nero: Brad... how long have you been here? I thought y’ left a while ago. 

Bradley: If I’d left without permission, those damned Grandpas ‘d never shut up. Even if I’m just going through the motions, I still hav’ta be ‘ere. I’m any case, that ore looks like it’ll appreciate. ‘Re things like this lying all over the south?

* I believe this line may be a colloquial expression, but I couldn’t find much on it, so I translated it as best I could. The original line is 狙ってなるものじゃないだろ (narate naru mono ja nai darou). I believe 狙ってなるもの (narate naru mono) means something you are aiming for or attempting to do. If anyone more qualified than me understands this phrase and believes that I’ve used it incorrectly, please feel free to message me so that I may correct it. Thank you :) 

#Mahoyaku #Promise of Wizard #mahoutsukai no yakusoku #Arthur #Oz #Riquet #Cain #Snow #White #Mithra #Owen #Bradley #Figaro #Lennox #Mitile #Rutile #Faust #Nero #Heathcliff #Shino #Chloe #Murr #Shylock #Rustica #Akira #3rd anniversary #Sincerely a rainbow of stories for you #mhyktl

[imjustabeanie]

Hey hi hello!! I'd like to request a match up with someone from Obey me and bungo stray dogs if that's okay.

She/her and straight.

Personality/habits:

I get described as 'gremlin-like' and chaotic, and I can't really deny it. I'm usually pretty energetic and tend to have an optimistic point of view. I get nervous when meeting new people, so I starting talking a lot and really fast too. I always try to be the clown of the group and I think it's because I crave constant attention and validation. I have a habit of speaking pretty loud which just adds to that.

I'm ENTP, 7w8, Chaotic good if that's any help.

I also have a pretty good memory and seem to remember almost every single conversation with my friends word for word (im just trying to think of things to write about at this point..).

I'd say I can control my emotions pretty well, I've never snapped at my friends. It's hard for me to stay still so I fidget a lot. It's like I always have to be doing something.

My hobbies/interests:

I like writing short stories a lot. I just find it so cool that I can pour my emotions into a story then re-read it in a few months and relive the feeling.

I like baking as well! It's a nice way to pass time and the results are even better.

Love languages:

My giving love language is physical touch while my receiving one is quality time.

I'm pretty clingy and I like to hug people from behind. Literally any form of physical touch makes me happy. But when I get pushed away it's kinda like heart break for me. I feel kind of overdramatic when that happens.

Spending quality time together is a must. Idc how, where or when, I just want to be with the person I like. Let that be watching a movie together, cooking together or just talking. Quality tike makes me feel wanted and loved, so it's really important for me.

As for deal brakers: I'd say it would be being taken for granted. I'm a people pleaser, and when the other person doesn't appreciate the things I do for them. Also I hate being told to "calm down". It makes me feel annoying and too much.

I couldn't think of anything else to write so I hope this is enough ^^

Thank youuu

Howdy! I don't write for BSD and it's only one fandom per match unless it's an appearance matchup.

Your obey me match is....Satan!

You and Satan are an explosive but loving couple. He never takes you for granted and encourages you to express all your emotions and not just bottle them up. And you teach him new ways to express them. Overall you two help the other improve.

Your chaotic personality is something he really enjoys. It's funny and adventurous so he'll always hype you up for it. He's rather intraverted but enjoys the casual outlings. He's invited to many places and always takes you as his plus one or try to get into places he knows you'd enjoy.

Satan keeps up with your fast talking easily, he understands you just get nervous or excited. He's used to it by Levi...Your jokes also make him chuckle. Once he realises you crave attention and validation, he'll give it to you more often. He understands the need for validation too. Satan also tries to help you by showing you don't need to be the clown of the group to be accepted. Just be yourself and whoever stays is a real friend. The rest are just aquaintances. Yes it's ironic given his title as lord of fools.

Satan likes your good memory! You're so attentive to what he says it just makes him feel all warm inside. He feels at ease with you. He also highly encourages you to write. He's a pretty harsh critic but it's for your own good.

Satan isn't a very touchy guy. It's gonna take time for him to warm up like that! And he's pretty private about it too. It doesn't mean he'll push you away, he just won't initiate in public. He'll explain this boundary to you so there won't be fights/he won't upset you. He pushed you away the first time and instantly regreted it. It resulted in a long discussion where both your boundaries were set. Besides that he likes baking with you! He's a good cook and overall, he likes doing domestic things with his lover.

#matchups #match ups #obey me

[bawdybean]

I saw you mention in the comments that you were also banned from the 30+ Fanfic Discord Server without warning or explanation. Would you be willing to share your story?

Sure why not. So I joined the server because I had several friends on there who were enjoying it, and then once I was there, a bunch MORE friends joined. It was nice for a bit, but I noticed quite quickly that there was one mod (Adela) who was... a bit aggressive. A hair trigger for correcting others but often did not follow the rules themselves- and that bothered me a lot due to previous fandom experience.

As an example, I invited a friend, and then left quite quickly because within a single day, Adela had come at them over their opinion on the ability of someone to write from a perspective they don't have (such as writing across genders etc). The mod apologized eventually and said they were very touchy about it because of a friend. Oookay. The flags were there but I chose to keep giving it a try. It is supposed to be a server full of adults (30+ is the whole point) and we were encouraged to act like adults- in the rules. But in practice, any phrase that any member or mod could interpret wrong was worthy of the mods reminding us not to do X Y o r Z because it might be offensive to someone. When I spoke up and asked that also maybe everyone could assume good intent as well? I was shushed and talked down to. I always felt that the mods were trying to "parent" the server. Adela in particular. One mod would tell me one thing and then Adela would come in HOURS later to correct both me and that mod.

Finally fed up with this I messaged the Server Owner Maryberry. I explained that I felt Adela was targeting some members of the server, and that I felt treated like a child, that ill intent was assumed in members actions first, but that Adela herself often did the things she corrected of others, even though they were not within the rules. I further explained that I had had a previous bad experience with a mod in a large server where I was a mod and that Adela bore a striking resemblance in behaviors. So in fairness part of it was me being set off by that. I asked if I was allowed to block a mod, because this is not explicitly stated in the rules but is the advice we/I would have given in much larger servers in case of a mod/member conflict. I also edxplained that several others had complained to me about Adela's behavior, including getting a DM from a server member I did not know, saying Adela was just like this and that Adela had treated her that way too, and she just wanted me to know I wasn't alone. I blacked out the persons name and passed that message along to Maryberry as well, naively thinking that perhaps they were too close to the situation and just not aware that they had a mod making a LOT of people uncomfortable. Maryberry asked if theycould tell Adela I had a problem with her, and i requested she not as I did not see how that would help in any way. They then requested time to think over if I should be allowed to block a mod. They decided I could, but that I would be at risk of missing messages that were important. I pointed out that I had a partner in the server who would relay those if needed, and that there was rarely if ever only a single mod on and proceeded to block Adella. Who continued to ping me with replies, respond to my comments (at times aggressively still), and all that came with that. I decided to stop speaking in the server because so often what I said drew attention from Adela, and with it criticism or unhelpful argument for the sake of argument. They have (had, idk if its still around) a public channel for asking questions and making suggestions for rule changes etc to the server, and one day someone was upset and requested a new rule that we not be allowed to make any jokes about any language we aren't a native speaker of (such as not being able to say: English can't verb, unless we are native English speaker. I chimed in that it might also be helpful to just assume good intent on the part of other server members and talk to them if they say something you feel is offensive since there is no real way to police if a person is a native speaker of a given language or not. And again a rule like that seemed unnecessarily "mommy-ing" of the adults in this server that claims to promote a mature atmosphere. Another mod responded to me, we all chatted in the channel things seemed fine. Adela came in hours later and scoured my ass, with a pinged reply. At this point I did behave poorly. I admit it. I unblocked Adela and DMd them that I had unblocked them specifically to let them know that I did not appreciate their behivior and that I was requesting that they no ping/reply/address me at all. I sent a screen shot of that DM to MaryBerry. I was not cruel, but I was BLUNT, and I did tell Adela that I did not appreciate her response. For transparency here is a shot of what I sent her.

what I then sent to the server owner

and the warning I received in response:

At this point I decided that the only way for me to be able to be present in the server was to be a lurker, watching and enjoying what my friends and partner participated in but not able to share anything myself. But I stayed because it was one server, where a lot of people I knew had congregated and so much easier than DMing 15 people to keep up with them. Then **4 months later** came the bruhaha that was referenced in part one of this blog. Adela broke rules again, it caused a stir and people spoke up, including me about this continuing to be an issue [mods not applying the rules to themselves or their friends] and retaliating against those who spoke up. One mod asked me in honestly in public chat why I stayed in the server if i did not feel i could even speak in it, and I answered honestly, that I stay because i know and am liked by many people here, and its nice to see what they are up to. Another mod suggested that perhaps I should evaluate if the server was a good fit for me since I didn't feel I could participate, and in that context it came off very much as "get out" to the point of other people asking as well in chat. I asked for clarification if I was being asked to leave the server of my own accord, and was told that no, that was a decision for me to make. I chose to stay, and was unceremoniously banned a day or two later without any further interaction from any mod, any notification, or warning. To be clear in the idk 9+ mo I was in the server I received one warning and I accepted it. As shown above. That was MONTHS before I was banned. When several of my friends asked why I was banned in open chat, the mods released their patented "we never ban without communicating why/warning/etc" and said that unfortunately I was banned for reasons "unrelated" to me questioning why the rules did not apply to the mods.

#fandom wank #30+ fanfic discord #age does not equal maturity. #fandom #discourse #mods behaving badly #make informed choices #discord drama #toxic culture #sure did save these receipts

[29pageshomestuckeveryday]

Homestuck, page 1,931

[S] John: Reunite with your loving wife and daughter.

Song used: How Do I Live (Bunny Back in the Box Version) by Michael guy bowman

Storyboards: http://readmspa.org/storyboards/11931.swf.html

Author commentary:

Now we get to "watch" the goofy Con Air animation without the critical musical accompaniment, Bowman's cover of Trisha Yearwood's "How Do I Live." The animation experience is an emotional rollercoaster. A cumulative celebration, if you will, of Homestuck's whimsical essence and its uncompromising spirit of absurdity. Now, here in this book, examining the frames will be more of a somber, meditative practice. I invite you to quietly behold Nic Cage's face for several minutes. Reflect on his visage the way one shows reverence for a religious icon during moments of silence in a church. You will come to understand that this sequence doesn't need funny music at all, and your appreciation of the content will be all the richer for it. This does admirably explain how Rose and Jade got these bunnies as their Birth Objects. It wasn't their own attraction to the bunnies, which wouldn't have made a lot of sense. It was John's attraction to the idea of performing this stupid skit at a highly inappropriate moment, which resulted in them being shipped off to Earth with a couple of ratty bunnies, thus setting the stage for them to grow up and regift the bunnies back to John in the first place. The official Con Air bunny I own is not the [real one Nic Cage is holding]. That's the ruined one at the end of the movie. I don't know where that one is, or frankly, if it even survived the shoot. The one in my possession is the bunny still in its original package, which Nic Cage buys for his daughter at the beginning of the movie. I'm just assuming that at some point in the future, I will have to travel back in time and give Cage the bunny for him to use in the film in the first place. The skit is essentially complete once Rose gets the bunny. But Jade gets one too, as kind of an afterthought. John does have another bunny to spare, so why not? That way these three young ladies all go home with something nice. Jane, however, gets fuck all, since she's offscreen at the moment, having decided to crawl into a man's filthy hat. Karkat is being melodramatic and pretending not to enjoy every minute of this spectacle. We don't know it yet, or have the context for understanding what it means, but at this moment he has a hate crush on John. It was hate at first sight. Every morsel of conversation we have read between these two has been driven by these feelings. What he is doing here now, bonking his own head, is nothing more than an act of powerful sexual frustration. The scribbled sequence above is misleading. By the time the plane crashes into the giant guitar in Vegas, the sports car it was keeping in tow had long since been severed. Also, there's another floating arm. What a great place to sneak an arm in. Generally when I was retconning arms into the story, the more surreal and incomprehensible a location was for John's arm to show up, the better. Not only did this moment not even take place inside the canon of the comic, it didn't even take place in the canon of the movie. It truly happened nowhere. And yet, there is his arm. There is nothing remotely stupid about any of this. John, his name is Bubbles Von Salamancer now. Respect his new identity. Roxy seems to be really getting into that hug there. I think I did a tremendous job in seeding her overwhelming attraction to Egbert men here in Act 4. Stick this fact in your pipe and consider smoking it toward the end of Act 6. There's a part in Con Air when John Malkovich holds a gun up to the bunny during a tense moment and says don't move or the bunny gets it. Or something like that. The rowdy criminals like to keep things loose and fun up there on the jail plane, as you will know if you have seen the film, which you have, at least a hundred times. Don't deny it. At some point in this song cover, there's a guitar solo. But nobody is playing a guitar. It's just some guy making jackass noises with his mouth. So John here is working his air guitar to go along with that riff. Actually it make sense that a Hero of Breath would play an air guitar. I really do think of everything... It's incredible.

#Youtube #video

[touchmycoat]

part 2 of fake white lotus AU

6k, Rated M

“Afternoons,” Shen Yuan declared, waking up one noon, “are meant for one thing and one thing only.”

Shen Jiu snorted, stepping back out of the doorway he’d only entered halfway.

“I’ll go prepare the carriage.”

Ming Fan perked up, offering Shen Yuan his usual morning affair on a tray.

“Will you go to Madame Meiyin’s? I heard she got her hands on a spiced white tea from the north, super expensive and to Young Master’s taste.”

Liu Qingge sipped at his own tea lifted off of Shen Yuan’s breakfast tray, gaze critical and amused both at once.

“Is ‘expensive’ a flavor profile?”

“Why,” Shen Yuan had to wonder out loud, “do you three always insist on waking me together?”

//

But it was a beautiful afternoon, sun bright with warmth with no threat of burns. Madame Meiyin was a tea importer with shops about an hour away from the Shen house by carriage. She had private gardens in the back for more exclusive guests and affairs of course, but on the whole Shen Yuan much preferred the front pavilion where he could spectate the hustle and bustle of the main city street. The tea was always delicious, the snacks dainty, but they weren’t the only reason for Shen Yuan’s frequent patronage; he had other indulgences here as well.

Indulgence One: Ming Fan on a shopping spree. Ming Fan was an auntie at heart with his love for gossip, keen memory for deals, and complete willingness to shake his fists and screech at disruptive youngin’s on the street, all despite the fact that he wasn’t even twenty yet. Shen Yuan liked setting him loose because it was like turning on the 8PM cable channel (alright fine, he was old), what with the immediate assail of emphatic dialogue and passionate gesturing. Every time they visited Madame Meiyin’s, Shen Yuan handed Ming Fan a bag of coins and pointed him at the stalls.

Indulgence Two: Shen Jiu doing his work over tea. Now, Mr. Protagonist here was a total poser (affectionate) (truly! Game recognized game, after all) who brought his bottomless pile of un-squared accounts with him to tea, because if Young Master Shen would like to still have money to spend and a house to live in by the end of the year, I suggest allowing me the time to do my work properly. Which was absolute bullshit. The only reason Shen Jiu brought books and brush with him, Shen Yuan knew, was because he liked the way he looked, all dignified at the teashop in neat robes with a straight back, one hand moving occasionally to brush hair out of his face or to help himself to a fragrant cup of tea.

You’re sexy and you want everyone to know it! You’re not fooling anyone, Jiu-dada!!

Shen Yuan really had to figure out a way to gift him a pretty jade hair-thing. It was just like taking a kid cousin to Disneyland, Shen Yuan decided. You had to get him the light-up Mickey Mouse ears or it just didn’t feel right.

Indulgence Three: Liu Qingge and Madame Meiyin.

Now, let it be known that Shen Yuan would never pimp out his employees to get special treatment. That would be unethical.

But was it pimping when all they were doing was having very flirty-terse conversation?

“Ah, back again, handsome? Young Master Shen’s always so generous in bringing us eye-candy.”

“Shut up and bring the tea already.”

“Such crass manners! A false gentleman hardly deserves to wear such proper silks, I must righteously insist you take those robes off. Immediately.”

Liu Qingge didn’t hate it, not really. In fact, Shen Yuan believed they—Liu Qingge and Madame Meiyin—were becoming actual friends, ever since Liu Qingge accepted Madame Meiyin’s invitation to a backroom for a “palm-reading” that one time. Now Shen Yuan was no prude, and he certainly understood that a handsome specimen like Liu Qingge could have as many sexy jaunts as he wanted with his pick of partners.

But right in front of the Protagonist?? Surely that was rude. Also lethal—not for Liu Qingge, but for Madame Meiyin! Wasn’t Liu Qingge just dooming a perfectly nice (if a tad lewd) tea importer and small business owner to death by romantic plot line, all so he could get his dick wet?

So Shen Yuan had intervened that time and only that time, on Shen Jiu’s behalf (that Shen Jiu had barely looked up from a receipt for garlic bulbs wasn’t the point, though c’mon Protagonist! Be a little more diligent about harem maintenance!). Shen Yuan remembered proclaiming something about emergency pond maintenance and dragging Liu Qingge right back out of that backroom.

Certain needs must be satisfied, I understand, he’d pulled Liu Qingge aside later that night to say, trying to be discreet about the whole thing so Shen Thin-Face Jiu didn’t overhear and get embarrassed. But I also believe one ought to be more aware of their contexts, more considerate of people’s feelings that may or may not be relevant. Do you understand what I’m saying, Honor Guard Liu?

Feelings, Liu Qingge had replied, weirdly cryptic. Um, what kind of OOC, sir? I understand. I’ll be more considerate in the future.

…Lovely. I’m certain we’ll all be better off this way.

And that was that. Shen Yuan was glad to see that despite their day-to-day squabbling, Liu Qingge and Shen Jiu were still willing to be considerate of each other. Surely Shen Jiu’s apparent apathy to the whole Madame Meiyin situation was to grant Liu Qingge freedom and happiness. This meant their romantic entanglement had stayed on track, which in turn meant Shen Yuan’s new plan was working.

Oh yeah, Shen Yuan had a new plan. Ever since he instinctively resolved the misunderstanding between Liu Qingge and Shen Jiu that first time (which now that he thought about it, was obviously a push from the omniscient plot gods, because Shen Yuan wasn’t a self-sacrificing idiot), he’d started down a new path: gather Shen Jiu’s harem for him and suck up to the harem members instead. If he couldn’t be Shen Jiu’s friend (he was still working on that, though not especially optimistic about the results), then he’d make himself the harem’s friend.

And not just any friend. Oh no, Shen Yuan knew exactly how “friends” who’d been “secretly pining” for the protagonist’s love interests ended up, thank you. He would be the shipper friend, facilitating and encouraging acts of romantic devotion toward Shen Jiu, miring the protagonist in such an immense tidal waveof affection that Shen Jiu would be altogether too busy to wreak vicious vengeance upon lil ole him. The reasonable followup to that sort of development would then be Shen Jiu getting all the safety and comfort his harem had to offer, discovering self-actualization, then letting Shen Yuan off the hook.

It was perfect! A plan of cold genius. It was fortunate how driven and merciless Shen Yuan could be, willing to manipulate all these people toward his own gain. Liu Qingge was already well within his grip, befriended for the sake of security against Shen Jiu. Shen Yuan was lucky Liu Qingge was not more perceptive.

So there they all were that afternoon, enjoying the tea-slash-shopping-slash-posing-slash-blatant sexual come-ons, when there was a loud, plot-harkening crash.

“Hey, watch it!”

And that was Ming Fan. Shen Yuan was instantly on his feet and starting toward the crescendo of yelling. Liu Qingge flanked him, and so did Shen Jiu after a beat. Together they made their way through the main street, past a stretch of canopied stalls, and finally to a cart of straw and bags of rice. There stood Ming Fan, an aristocratic-looking man, and a slave in chains prone on the floor. There was debris strewn around the slave and straw dusting his hair, and the aristocratic man had a foot on the chains to keep the slave pinned as he spat and gestured above.

In the space of a breath, Shen Yuan’s attention tightened to the aristocrat’s fist. Specifically, he watched the dull gleam of green flying from it.

A jade guanyin pendant, probably fake, tied with a frayed red thread. Shen Yuan recognized the integral plot object instantly (the comic only had about twenty-nine macros of it, which would’ve been impressive had twenty-six of them not been the exact same jpeg file shoved in to claim unearned real estate), which meant this chained slave on the ground was—

“—useless idiot being, don’t know your left foot from your right, causing disturbances everywhere you go, I should do the world a favor and put you down like the animal you are—”

“Young Master,” Ming Fan was saying, a little frantic as he spotted them, “the slave bumped into me and—”

Shen Jiu had gone completely still at Shen Yuan’s side the moment the aristocrat—no, the slave-holder had come within sight.

“—good are apologies from a nothing like you—”

Shen Yuan flew forward. The slave-holder’s wrist bones, he thought, felt horribly crushable in his grip. Were Liu Qingge’s workout lessons working?

And like a contrived and probably too on-the-nose symbolic movie close-up, the string that the guanyin pendant hung from decided to snap at that very moment.

Shen Yuan caught it easily in one open palm, keeping it from falling and shattering on the ground like it was going to.

The slave-holder was staring at him with surprised and indignant eyes.

“Honor Guard Liu,” Shen Yuan spoke evenly, looking right back, and that was all the cue Liu Qingge needed to rip the man out of Shen Yuan’s grip and pin him to the ground with extreme prejudice. Shen Yuan had a vague thought about Shen Jiu watching Liu Qingge do that, but it was gone as quick as it came. All of Shen Yuan’s focus was on the pendant in his hand.

In the original comic, war came to the country. It was inevitable, Shen Yuan remembered thinking, not because of plot reasons but because Shen Jiu didn’t have, at that point, a drawling arrogant yandere warlord-type love interest yet. Y’know, to make sexy threats to his chastity without follow-through and to bring actual challenge to Liu Qingge’s hitherto unquestioned martial supremacy. Also, for some fake politics. The main love interest was the crown prince, after all.

The comic had provided Shen Jiu with all that and more in the form of Luo Binghe, an actual no-joke for real-for real demon. Heavenly Demon, actually, was the genus name, though Luo Binghe would be revealed to be half-human. Having grown up enslaved in human society, Luo Binghe escaped and became a freedom fighter, armed with his righteous sword (shut up) and intimate knowledge of the sheer brutality that people were capable of. On a reconnaissance mission, a disguised Luo Binghe had ran into Shen Jiu, in the middle of an argument at the time with a slave-holder about her appalling treatment of slaves.

It had been intrigue at first sight, with tests and sneering accusations of hypocrisy-turned-true love as time went on. If Shen Yuan were to be honest, Luo Binghe had been his favorite member of the Jiu-da harem. Even with all the shitty writing, Luo Binghe’s pall of ruthless hauteur had always seemed to promise a scintillating core of vulnerability underneath, one that made Shen Yuan actively mad when Shen Jiu inevitably left him behind to go save the Crown Prince (who’d been dying, fine, but still) or when he had that big duel with Liu Qingge that one time, which had ended with Luo Binghe’s sword at Liu Qingge’s throat but also with the revelation that Luo Binghe kind of had…nothing.

You have it so easy! Liu Qingge and his goddamn sword, you can just swear your eternal allegiance and call it a day, but who would believe a half-demon’s loyalty? What are my vows worth compared to the Crown Prince’s, when all the political clout I have bays for human blood? And are they wrong for that, with human hands so stained with demonic suffering? Am I wrong for promising justice to those who follow me? But damn it all that I should meet him. I’m the idiot for falling in love, for complicating what ought to have been an all-too-simple bloodbath. An eye for an eye, but no, instead? I find myself wanting to hand over everything, piece by piece. I find myself praying, pathetic, that each damned pound of flesh can be found worthy by a human, just like before. Tell me, is your love so odious? Does your love cleave as mine does, leaving you with nothing but a blade in your throat and your own hand on the hilt?

…Fine, yes, there was the scandal after that chapter’s publication where somebody accused the author of lifting the monologue wholesale from a foreign-language text somewhere, and plagiarism is a dipshit move but that wasn’t Luo Binghe’s fault! Stop hating on him just because his stupid creator made unethical writing choices! And it was a damn good monologue, skirting melodramatic but certainly befitting of a tragic Demon Lord! Death of the author, let Luo Binghe live!!

—all of which was to say, Shen Yuan had a great fix-it idea. So much of Luo Binghe’s pain in loving Shen Jiu, after all, was in their mistiming. Had they just met a few years earlier, Luo Binghe wouldn’t have had the pressures of a demonic army breathing down his neck, and Shen Jiu wouldn’t have had to choose between giving up Luo Binghe and giving up all of humanity. C’mon, just give them a chance! They deserve a fair shot at getting to know each other without all that bullshit plot.

So Shen Yuan knelt down, palm open with the jade pendant sitting warm inside, and gently touched Luo Binghe’s elbow. Luo Binghe flinched, but when nobody proceeded to drag him up or toss him around, he tentatively lifted his head.

The prettiest pair of big brown eyes flickered up, met Shen Yuan’s, and stuttered down again. Shen Yuan was left staring, frozen, even as Luo Binghe, upon spotting the pendant, snatched it immediately out of Shen Yuan’s hand with both protective panic and a wince, bracing himself for punishment.

Instead, Shen Yuan took in the bruised and scraped skin around the young man’s wrists underneath the mean-looking shackles. He flipped a cool glare over his shoulder and held his palm out again.

“Keys.”

This whole time, the slave-holding aristocrat had been attempting to protest, only to be unceremoniously shoved back into the ground each time by Liu Qingge. Liu Qingge glanced up once before beginning to pat the guy down.

But it wasn’t the slave-holder who responded.

“That slave is Master Wu’s legal property, Young Master Shen. You have no right to just free him.”

It was Shen Jiu, so poised that he felt sharp. At his decree, Luo Binghe’s head sank down again, loose hair covering his face. Shen Yuan slowly turned to his attendant.

“Well how much money do we have on us?” Shen Yuan countered. He tried to pull Luo Binghe up but when the young man refused, he could only stay kneeled. “I’ll buy his freedom.”

Shen Jiu’s knuckles, where his hands were clasped tight over his belt, had gone white.

“Four thousand,” he answered, eyes fixed like claws on Shen Yuan, “was the budget for today’s tea.”

“And I want at least five thousand, even for a slave as worthless as that one,” the slave-holder spat. Liu Qingge pushed his head down again. “Get your hunting dog off me—”

“Five thousand? Done.” Shen Yuan gestured for Shen Jiu’s money pouch, unable to heed the quaking fury in Shen Jiu’s gaze as he caught the heavy bag. Four thousand was pocket change to the likes of the Shen family but Shen Jiu hadn’t announced the cost of an afternoon’s idyllic tea for nothing—he wanted this transaction tainted, to be put in perspective. He wanted everybody on this street to know that to Young Master Shen, the charity of a slave’s life was only slightly more expensive than a fancy snack.

But was he wrong? No. Of course not. The shame was bearable since Shen Yuan could filter it through the knowledge that he wasn’t actually Young Master Shen, and yes, he would bear it because—

He had been taking full advantage of the Shen family fortune. It wasn’t only the money, it was also Ming Fan and the other servants. It was Liu Qingge’s loyalty. It was Shen Jiu’s service.

It was Shen Jiu’s feelings—how awful it must be to watch another slave encounter Young Master Shen’s interference, only for things to go in the radically opposite direction for no apparent reason at all. But Shen Yuan had to see this though; it made no fucking sense to leave Luo Binghe behind now, especially since they all knew full well what would happen to Luo Binghe if he was left to the slave-holder’s mercy.

So Shen Yuan pulled a small golden comb off his hair and stabbed it through the bag. He flung it in front of the slave-holder’s face and watched the coins scatter.

“There. The slave is now mine, so I would suggest minding your hands and mouth from this moment on. I am the Young Master of the House of Shen, the named consort-to-be of the Crown Prince. Master Wu, was it? You do not talk to my people that way and you do not talk of my people that way, have I made myself clear?”

“He doesn’t have the key on him,” Liu Qingge reported as the slave-holder glared. As Shen Yuan strode closer and closer though, his animosity got dimmer and dimmer, until all he could do was lie flat where Liu Qingge had him pinned and stare at the pile of gold and Shen Yuan’s shoes beyond that.

“I said,” Shen Yuan repeated, “have I made myself clear?”

He ignored the little look Liu Qingge shot his way in favor of hearing the slave-holder mumble an agreement.

“Good. Get out of my sight. Honor Guard Liu, get the key to my property from him. You have full discretion to act in my name.”

Liu Qingge’s glance flitted around the marketplace like it was a battlefield, him the general taking stock. Finally, he stood, hauling the slave-holder with him.

“Attendant Shen,” Shen Yuan interrupted before Liu Qingge could say anything, “get the slave home. Clean him up and settle him in.”

“Does Young Master Shen have a preference for where to put him?”

Shen Yuan felt himself shrug.

“You wanted to hire people to replant the west garden, didn’t you? Well here you go. Labor.”

“This servant thanks Young Master for his generosity.” It wasn’t a sneer because Shen Jiu didn’t sneer in public. It was a cool bow, a pronouncement that he knew exactly where he stood—closer to the shackled slave than the man he’d just been sharing tea and a table with. It was distance and an open incapability when he just stood over Luo Binghe with an order to stand. It was not meeting Shen Yuan’s eyes as he led Luo Binghe past, demurring as a proper servant would before a high and mighty master.

“How are you going to get home?” Liu Qingge asked, eyebrow getting more dubious by the moment. Shen Yuan had to get rid of him quickly, before all the guilt and frustration hit.

“Ming Fan will send another carriage for me. I have four thousand coins’ worth of tea to finish.”

At least, Shen Yuan thought morosely as he turned to head back for Madam Meiyin’s, Liu Qingge hadn’t saluted, or bowed his head, or said yes Young Master before leaving.

//

Shen Yuan wasn’t moping. Moping was for thirteen-year-olds. Shen Yuan just didn’t have much of an appetite.

Ming Fan cleared his throat, a servant with a tray of more food trailing behind him.

“Vegetables, Young Master?”

“That’s it,” Shen Yuan declared, chopsticks clacking on the table as he waved the food away. “Why are you looking at me like that? Being stared at can really affect a guy’s appetite, you know.”

Liu Qingge, sitting across the dining table having also not really eaten, made an unamused expression back.

“Just wondering when you’re going to explain what the hell you’re doing, and what happened this afternoon.”

Shen Yuan exhaled sharply, nudging a plate toward Shen Jiu’s usual seat on instinct before pulling it back away from the empty chair.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You’re not acting like yourself.”

Hah! Hahah! Liu-dada, winner of the most ironic statement of the century! Nobody was acting like anybody as far as Shen Yuan was concerned because he certainly didn’t want to behave like the original goods, but he’d had to this afternoon except probably that wasn’t the only solution. It had merely been the only one Shen Yuan could think of. Not that Liu Qingge would know anything about this because Liu Qingge didn’t even know what the original goods was like in this timeline so Shen Yuan was actually kind of tricking him, wasn’t he? Young Master Shen had fucked up the love of Liu Qingge’s life with head-twisty trauma and then Shen Yuan had turned around and been nothing but benevolent, as far as Liu Qingge knew, leaving poor Shen Jiu with the truth that nobody would believe.

So wasn’t the fairest move here to lean into it? Be hateful, like he’d done to Luo Binghe, so Shen Jiu would have something to avenge himself against? Shen Yuan didn’t want to die, but now that he was here—now that he’d seen Shen Jiu’s face when he’d been so gentle at first with Luo Binghe—was it really fair that he was putting himself above Shen Jiu’s character arc, Shen Jiu’s catharsis—

“Young Master Shen—”

“Please don’t call me that.”

Somehow, that quiet interruption had the power to knock a tray right out of a servant’s hands. Ming Fan, expression going severe, quickly ushered all the miscellaneous servants out, leaving himself to stand guard outside with a worried look at Shen Yuan. That left Shen Yuan alone with Liu Qingge, who was looking more and more intent as he crossed his arms and sat back.

“You don’t want me to call you Young Master Shen?”

More confused than determined, Shen Yuan shook his head.

“For now or not ever?” Liu Qingge continued, like this was at all a reasonable conversation to be having.

“I think you have to sometimes in public,” was Shen Yuan’s wary answer, to which Liu Qingge just nodded.

“Fine, those are the only exceptions.”

Shen Yuan rubbed at his forehead.

“Look, this is all much gloomier than I’d prefer, let’s just—let’s just forget about all this, alright? I don’t mean to be in such a mood.”

Liu Qingge lifted a brow.

“Are we forgetting the slave too?”

“He’s not a slave,” came Shen Yuan’s automatic response. “He’s—”

Wait a minute. Yeah, that’s it. Way to go, Liu-dage, way to get right at the heart of the matter. Fuck all this noise, to be all honest! What did it matter whether Shen Yuan was acting like himself or Young Master Shen? Shen Jiu was either going to take his revenge or he wasn’t, and the reason he had those possibilities was because he wasn’t a goddamn slave anymore! Yes he might be sad, yes freeing Luo Binghe right in front of him might be fucked up, but it wasn’t like Shen Yuan could regret doing it. And Shen Yuan certainly wasn’t going to keep Luo Binghe a slave in his own house.

All Shen Yuan could do was better. And later, if Shen Jiu wanted to accuse him of anything, he would own up to it. That was all. With perspective, it was a tiny price to pay for all the freedom and power of Young Master Shen.

So Shen Yuan got to his feet, energized all at once.

“Did you get that key?”

Liu Qingge stood too, something brighter in his gaze as he pulled a dark, heavy-looking key from his sleeve.

“He’s a demon you know,” Liu Qingge was saying even as he followed Shen Yuan out of the dining room. “The cuffs suppress his demonic power.”

Shen Yuan made a face and snagged the key from his grip, just in case.

“Are you saying you might not be able to take him, Honor Guard Liu? A cute little kid like that?”

“He’s not any of those things,” Liu Qingge growled, sword clanging in support at his side, “and I can take him just fine.”

“Mhm. It’s okay to be scared, you know.”

“Were you scared? Of Attendant Shen.”

Shen Yuan’s mouth snapped shut on a repartee, eyes wide as he turned. The comic truly didn’t do Liu Qingge justice, he was thinking, if Liu-dage was out here being thissharp, chasing a question like fangs through flesh to bone. Liu Qingge looked both impatient and exasperated, like he was annoyed by Shen Yuan’s surprise, which made Shen Yuan want to give him a sheepish pat on the cheek.

As they made their way to the western wing, Shen Yuan slowly shook his head.

“I’m not scared of Attendant Shen,” he said. It was mostly the truth. What he was scared of was Shen Jiu’s revenge on Young Master Shen and the inexorability of the narrative. “But I…”

Shen Yuan sighed, making up his mind.

“I’ll explain once we get there.”

//

Shen Jiu, it looked like, had taken an axe to Luo Binghe’s cuffs, breaking the chain in the middle of it while leaving the demon-suppression sigils intact around Luo Binghe’s wrists. Shen Yuan could already see it: the ominous music as Shen Jiu ordered Luo Binghe over the wooden bench, Luo Binghe’s darting eyes snapping to the blade as Shen Jiu reappeared with the axe, Shen Jiu’s glare and Luo Binghe’s pallor in the cutting shots insinuating the axe was going to take off Luo Binghe’s whole hand or even head—

Argh, that must’ve been terrifying! A thousand apologies for this one’s idiotic oversight, O Demon Lord, kindly spare this fool in your reign of terror!

Though, it was a far more effective demonstration of Shen Jiu’s gray morality than anything else the comic had to offer. So there was that, at least.

Also, Shen Jiu had done as asked and settled Luo Binghe in, meaning Luo Binghe, when he answered the door in a frenzy, was washed and clothed with his hair pulled back. Shen Yuan glanced over his shoulder and spotted bedding and a pillow, plus linens for cleaning on the side. Shen Yuan couldn’t help a little exhale of relief at the sight.

“Young Master Shen! Honor Guard Liu!”

Shen Yuan smiled, half-grimacing, at Luo Binghe’s desperate bows and lack of eye contact. He caught Luo Binghe by the elbows once more and pulled back at the now-expected flinch.

“Good evening. May we come in?”

Luo Binghe stiffened at the request but allowed them in anyways. With an apologetic look, Shen Yuan pulled Liu Qingge with him until they stood in the most harmless corner of the bedroom, a.k.a. not in the way of the door or the bed, which seemed like the only thing in the room Luo Binghe had dared to touch so far. Shen Yuan even jabbed at Liu Qingge’s arm—a silent demand to stop looming—before he spoke.

“I never caught your name. What would you like to be called?”

Luo Binghe’s mouth opened and shut a couple of times, his hands subtly worrying at themselves where they were clasped over his stomach.

“This servant will answer to anything Young Master likes,” he tried.

“None of that,” Shen Yuan softly chided. “Surely you have a given name?”

“This servant’s previous master,” Luo Binghe stubbornly replied, “gave him no names.”

Shen Yuan considered him, gaze catching on the collar of Luo Binghe’s robes, how there was no worn red string there. He must be on the lookout for a replacement string. Shen Yuan mentally made a note to bring him one tomorrow, strong and woven from silk.

“Then,” he said, “did the person who gave you the guanyin pendant give you a name?”

Something shattered across Luo Binghe’s young face before he ducked his head, hand clasping at a spot over his chest where he was no doubt storing the pendant. It was a few moments before Luo Binghe answered.

“The woman who raised me,” he said, voice hoarse, “called me Luo Binghe.”

Such a wild name, forces of nature untempered by fussy civility. Shen Yuan smiled.

“Binghe, then. Thank you. That’s a beautiful name to be cherished.”

Both Luo Binghe and Liu Qingge shot him looks at that, disbelieving and incredulous. Shen Yuan ignored them both and stepped forward, holding up the key to Luo Binghe’s cuffs.

“We’ve come to get those restraints off you, Binghe, if you’d like to be free of them.”

Luo Binghe’s reaction was immediate: first a fierce and savage hope, then a paralysis, spurred by Liu Qingge hovering in the corner. Mentally smacking himself in the head, Shen Yuan shooed Liu Qingge to stand even further behind him, which Liu Qingge did with a roll of his eyes.

“Honor Guard Liu went to fetch the key for you,” Shen Yuan explained. “He’s only here in company, not for anything else.”

Slowly, Luo Binghe shook his head.

“No, he should be here for Young Master Shen’s protection. This servant…this servant doesn’t want to hurt Young Master Shen.”

Shen Yuan began to smile, saying, “you won’t—”

“I might,” Luo Binghe interrupted, expression as frank as his tone. He held his wrists up but didn’t seem able to look at them for long, expression dull as he spoke again. “These cuffs have been on for two years. I…This servant can’t guarantee that he can control himself. And if Honor Guard Liu has to step in, that won’t be good for Young Master Shen’s name.”

Chest squeezing hard at the young man before him, who was clearly so desperate to be out of his cuffs but didn’t want to risk the safety or stupid reputation of his goddamn owner, Shen Yuan huffed and took another determined step forward.

“Two years? So you’ve lived long without those cuffs before. Tell me, have you ever lost control then?”

Luo Binghe’s lips were pale as he forced a smile.

“Please. This servant can labor perfectly well with the cuffs on. Attendant Shen had already gotten rid of the chain.”

Shen Yuan took Luo Binghe’s hand before he could think too much about it, guilt and annoyance at himself pulsing through him at Luo Binghe’s words. Luo Binghe immediately shifted back, eyes still averted, but didn’t pull himself out of Shen Yuan’s reach.

“I need no slave,” he muttered, turning Luo Binghe’s hand gently to inspect the cuff. If nothing else, he wanted the damn things off so he could bandage Luo Binghe’s poor wrists. “I would have you free.”

“What happens if you lose control?” Liu Qingge suddenly called from the corner Shen Yuan left him in, but Luo Binghe was answering before Shen Yuan could shoot him a glare.

“I shift into my true form and go feral.”

“What’s your true form?”

Luo Binghe peered once at Shen Yuan before he answered, hand not quite tense but incredibly still in Shen Yuan’s grip.

“A demonic bear, nearing three meters tall.”

“I’ve never heard one of those running rampant,” Shen Yuan insisted. He’d already gotten the key out and was poised to undo one cuff. “So tell me Luo Binghe—how did you keep yourself under control for all those years?”

“Shen Yuan,” Liu Qingge warned.

“No,” Shen Yuan said. “Tell me.”

Finally, finally,Luo Binghe broke from that enslaved sensibility and met Shen Yuan’s eyes head-on, every bit of brown in them screaming but why? But why? But why?? And however much it made his chest ache, all Shen Yuan could do was stare back and insist, trust me. Please, trust me.

There was no why. Luo Binghe would end up getting free of those cuffs anyways and Shen Yuan—Shen Yuan just wanted to see him free, and powerful, and proud. It wasn’t fair, was all! Luo Binghe had gone through more than enough in the time he was enslaved, he didn’t need the last token of love he received from his mother broken at the end of it all, fully falling prey to his demonic side as a result.

Luo Binghe’s free hand clenched once more over the pendant over his chest. He took a deep breath.

“My mother,” he whispered. “She used to breathe with me.”

Shen Yuan inserted the key on an inhale, and exhaled, nice and slow, while Luo Binghe followed his lead.

“Your mother,” Shen Yuan murmured as he heard the lock click, slowly easing the cuff open and off Luo Binghe’s skin, “didn’t want you to hurt. It hurts to lose control, doesn’t it?”

Luo Binghe’s eyes remained fixed on Shen Yuan’s, wide and now brimming with tears, as his mouth opened. Then shut. Shen Yuan took hold of his other hand and squeezed, closing both their hands over the shape of the guanyin pendant. Shen Yuan smiled, finding the keyhole on the second cuff.

“We don’t want you hurt either. Breathe, Binghe.”

They inhaled together, Luo Binghe sounding shaky, and the key went in. Exhale, click, the cuff fell open like an overripe orange and—

A swell of energy pulsed across the room. It blew out all the candles and set all the linens fluttering, but Shen Yuan, standing right at the heart of the burst, stood perfectly untouched. And Luo Binghe was still Luo Binghe as he fell to his knees, hands slipping free of Shen Yuan’s grasp so he could supplicate himself—

Shen Yuan dropped to his knees to and hoisted him right back up, impatient and practically beaming. He gave both of Luo Binghe’s hands an excited squeeze and said, “see, Binghe? I knew you could do it—”

And all of a sudden, Luo Binghe’s face turned bright red, and twin ears popped up at the top of his head.

…Brown ears, round, and furry, twitching this way and that as Luo Binghe stammered, and—

Shen Yuan promptly dropped both his hands to cover his own mouth. Liu Qingge was at his side in an instant with a hand on the back of his robes, yanking him away as Luo Binghe paled, and there was the sound of rattling as the energy pulse from before once again swelled up in the room like a change in cabin pressure, and Liu Qingge’s sword schinked as it left its sheathe—

“Cute.”

Both Luo Binghe and Liu Qingge paused.

…Dammit, this was embarrassing! Hiding his face in one hand and blindly shoving Liu Qingge away with his other, Shen Yuan once again planted himself in front of Luo Binghe. He cleared his throat, unable to look up at Luo Binghe’s face even as he forced himself to explain.

“No, no I’m not scared. The ears are just—they’re so—they startled me. Apologies.”

When silence reigned, Shen Yuan chanced one uncertain look up and his traitorous hand twitched at the sight of the ears again.

Gods, he wanted to scritch them! He wanted to scritch them so badly! Oh this is so stupid stupid stupid, Shen Yuan had never been much of an animal ears guy, so what the fuck was happening to him right now?! Was Luo Binghe genetically engineered to jab right at the center of his cuteness-dopamine-generator button??

“Very cute,” he said again, helplessly. Luo Binghe made a tiny noise, and with a puff, his hands were all of a sudden paws—

#unedited unedited unedited #my writing #BINGHE #inspired obviously by soursoppi's bear!binghe #scum villain

[zwoelffarben]

I'm sliding off Prokopetz's post to continue this conversation, cause he ain't never signed up for an argument in his notes, and while I'm intending to deescalate, I recognize I've got a habit of getting upset about things beyond the level others consider reasonable, and well I'd rather not whoopsie daisy a flame war in his notes.

So, first point to you, I absolutely should calm down. Or it'd be the case if I hadn't calmed down.

See, I did calm down; I wasn't even upset the first time I saw it; my initial response was saw your hashtag when it was posted was 'he right tho, Imma fix the thing they pointed out,' and I opened the file to edit the horns, stared at it for thirty minutes thinking how to best approach that, closed the file deciding that no, it was waaaaaaaay too much effort to get the horns nice, sat with the imposter syndrome ennui of I can't even do the horns right, and after the comment was still rotating in my mind and I calmed down and decided that no actually, I'm not going to reply.

I calmed myself down, said, "let it go," and let it go, best I could for five whole days. Now five days might not seem like a long time from your perspective, but when you're living with an obsessive thought that you're actively choosing not to act on, it drags on, and on. Everytime I got a notification from that post, my brain brought up your original hashtag and rotated it in my mind and I had to let it go again, and again.

And then, because I was scrolling through the notes giggling at the preformative "woe Briska is upon me," I happened to see your comment again and all five days worth of frustration flowed in all at once, and I couldn't let it go, so I typeda response; but then, I calm down and retyped a less aggressive response; but then, I calmed down and retyped it again, and again.

All told, I'd calmed down some dozens of times before posting that response. I calmed myself down many several of times, and I'm quiet satisfied with how calm my response wound up being; no personal attacks, no nothing, just an acknowledgement of empathy, a request for understanding, an explaination, and an invitation to confirm what I'd said. Honestly, the most indication of how upset I was was my use of plural pronouns, and not the amount I typed: We're just that long-winded.

I'm also not even the person who did the horns, so I was never gonna interpret a critique of them as a personal attack. But, the hashtag did upset me for a reason. See, it wasn't a big deal for you, and it wasn't that big a deal for me, but it coulda been a big deal for somebody.

Every now and then, a post circulates on this site about how you shouldn't provide unsolicited constuctive criticism on someone's writing (it's specifically about fanfic, but that's not relevant) because it damages the author's motivation to write more and results in a lot of writers quitting the craft prematurely.

And well, the same applies to art. A seemingly innocuous critical comment can stick with an artist for a long time, and you put enough of those in an artist's head and they stop doing art; and in so far as I'm upset, because again I've calmed down several times, I'm more upset by what that kind of comment can do to an artist than what that specific comment did to me because again, I didn't make the horns.

The proverbial straw never seems like a big deal to anyone besides the camel, and I recognize you meant no harm; but please. Just... be more careful where you put your straw.

[x-heartofthecards-x]

@numberoneduelist

It’s really sweet that you’d teach me.

Has he ever heard those words before? Has he ever been told that what he’s doing is nice? If so, it would’ve had to have been so rarely and offhandedly that he’s not bothered to file it away anywhere. This one, though, he will end remember for a while.

The promise to try and refrain from burning the place down gets a snicker - and reminds him to check the fire extinguisher under the sink later. It’s been… some time.

Seto flattens his meatball and presses his thumb into the center just enough to leave an indent. He remembers reading about it somewhere - to keep the thing from ballooning, he thinks. He sets it on the empty sheet pan and then repeats the process for a second burger patty. The rest, he’ll set aside for later.

Another laugh. The warning is more for his companion than it is for his cat. She’s smart enough to know that Seto won’t feed her anything but kibble or wet food, but he’s certain that she’ll sniff out Yugi as a bleeding heart.

He pops open the fish grill and sets the burgers down before setting a timer and closing it back up. Then he steps over to the sink to wash his hands again, and looks at his… date… with a little confusion.

“Really?” He isn’t able to stop himself from asking. “King of Games, owner of the best shop in town, and a sense of loyalty strong enough that you’ve risked your life multiple times - and nobody’s interested?”

In the past, Seto has called Yugi a loser more times than he can count, has degraded his friends and his dreams so often he’d be hard-pressed to name all of the occasions he’s done it. And now here he is, on the opposite side of the arena - praising him. The words feel foreign coming out of his mouth, but they’re not untrue. He wouldn’t have invited the man over if he hadn’t actually found him special. Yes, he understands why people would be interested in the Pharaoh. No, he doesn’t get why those same people wouldn’t fall head over heels for Yugi Mutou.

Kindness, consideration, a smart sense of humor, and with an intellect and eye for strategy that rivals - perhaps even surpasses at some points - the greatest minds of this age. All qualities that the executive finds attractive. He’s also quite nice to look at.

When his hands are dry once more, he crosses his arms, eyebrow cocked.

“I’ll gladly be the first.”

Yugi gave a small chuckle, one hand lifting to sheepishly rub at the back of his neck. It was really nice to have compliments dished out to him, especially from someone who had been as hyper-critical of him as Seto Kaiba had always been. But it was hard to not be dismissive of those compliments.

After all, Atem had been the King of Games. It was only attached to his name because he was the body. His game shop was treading water at best. Most months it only just barely got enough to keep the lights on. His sense of loyalty and self-sacrificing nature he could take, but it often came across as just clingy and foolhardy.

But he definitely didn't want to have a personal pity party on his first date ever. No one liked a downer.

Instead he gave the other a soft smile and said, "Yeah, ah. No one has been interested yet. I mean, either that or I have just been super fucking oblivious about it."

He dropped his hand, shoving both in his pockets as he rocked back on his heels and added with a shrug, "Which I suppose is possible. Unless it involves card games, I am out of my depth a bit where life is concerned."

It was a very watered down version of his internal dialogue, but the sentiments were much kinder and a much more flattering way to respond to the incredibly handsome man that was looking down at him with that wry look that had his stomach somersaulting.

With a little chuckle he added, "I'm still a bit surprised that you are interested. Pleasantly surprised. Thrilled, actually. But definitely didn't see that coming."

#numberoneduelist #seto kaiba #closed roleplay #roleplay tags: #numberoneduelist4

[buyigfollwersnigeria]

6 WAYS TO MAKE YOUR INSTAGRAM AUDIENCE MORE ENGAGED

Naturally, you have to be able to justify it. With more than 1 billion monthly regular users, Instagram is still among the top tools to have your blog and website noticed. Instagram is fun and inspiring, but what we love the most is the sense of community it brings!

Engaging a community is just as important as engaging enterprise individuals and bloggers. Once our friends are who can make our lives more enjoyable -- they will eventually be our biggest fans, customers, and, often, even friends. There are a few critical points to make sure your Instagram community is engaged and excited about exactly what you want to provide.

1. STUDY YOUR FOLLOWERS

The first step is to be aware of the audience you are targeting. Pictures with funny captions and beautiful photos will not do much good if the audience isn't engaged in your posts. One of the best methods to get more accurate data on the people who follow you is to use Iconosquare. It is a fantastic website connecting with your Instagram account and tips on whether your following is now the most active and which posts will be most liked. What are your audience's opinions on the most popular posts? This is a fantastic illustration of the Iconosquare chart that reveals if we charge for my Instagram accounts at times that, I can bill my Instagram accounts when my audience is active.

2. ASK QUESTIONS

People want to be able to tell them that you value their opinion. The best way to create an active community is to take part! Ask your followers what their day-to-day activities. Please take a picture of the things you're handling and get them to give you their comments. Discuss your upcoming trip to the beach and ask how your followers were misled, too. It might seem awkward at the beginning, but be yourself! You'll be surprised by the number of people who can respond.

If you happen to be on the road or traveling, ask your followers if you have visited before and the tips they provide for you. It's a complete satisfaction since you discover fun places you could research and get your Instagram friends talking and engaging with you.

3. FIND Something Which WILL SET YOU APART

In the same way that there are many authors, there are also a lot of amazing Instagrammers. Stand out from the crowd and offer something valuable to the rest of the users. If you're a food-related blogger, you could write about a fantastic, easy-to-make dinner recipe that you would not typically share on your blog. Are you knowledgeable about the business world? Why not share an easy small business tip every day? Let your followers have a reason to revisit your site. Many people enjoy blogging. Being well-informed and consistent with Instagram is often the key to great success and an enthralled viewer.

4. THINK ABOUT YOUR HASHTAGS

With many Instagram updates over the years, you can become extremely precise with your hashtags. Your images would be placed in the hashtag's portion after you have added the label, which allows you to repeatedly apply the same hashtags to your pictures that attract the attention of new viewers and new followers. You only have one chance to have your image noticed by the grid before it disappears. Don't waste a second! Use your preferred hashtags immediately, meaning that others will watch you live using the same hashtags for precisely the same task.

5. Produce a CHALLENGE

It will expose your profile to a wide range of new eyes, allowing you to understand your target audience and build a buzz around everything you do! Join in with those who are taking advantage of the chance to connect by sharing comments on their pictures whenever it is you can. This isn't just nice; it gives you a powerful sense of community and displays that you are genuinely interested.

If you're concerned about the lack of engagement from your followers with your challenge, you could try inviting a small group of active users and joining. You could join forces with an alternative Instagrammer to help sponsor your contest. In this way, you're accountable and can talk about each other's followers to gain a better chance to increase participation.

6. React to ALL COMMENTS

Last but certainly not least, ensure that you react to every one of the comments that you receive. If you've followed the guidelines previously and can do so, people will start commenting on your pictures. If you don't respond to their feedback or only respond to a couple of them, they will see that you're not thinking about establishing an area of residence. You must respond to everyone who responds to show how much you value their opinions and build connections with your friends. This will create a stronger bond and increase engagement. Woo!

[thedicexxsystem]

06.02.24

Therapy was great as usual. Uncomfortable in places but that’s therapy I suppose. J was really helpful.

We showed up angry about having to go to work tomorrow. ? (Unknown alter) was being noncompliant, talking over J and not letting me get my thoughts out. J was talking about self compassion, because the alter was worried about us not being stable enough to work as we’ve recently took some time off due to burnout.

? Was unwilling to hear J out at first, telling her she’s “talking bullshit” and that if we are nice to ourselves “we make ourselves weaker by expecting that nice reaction” and that “we are deluding ourselves.”

J pointed out that piling on more criticism onto someone when they’re already feeling down won’t help anything, it will actually hinder them and make them feel worse. J introduced us to ‘her magic phrase’ for self compassion. The “no wonder….”

The alters anger soon subdued once they realised that J was trying to help. They asked a couple of clarifying questions about the no wonder phrase and then dropped from front. It’s a little sad feeling how they get a sense of relief as soon as they’ve been ‘talked down’ or heard out. It makes my chest ache.

J and I then talked about self compassion a bit more, I talked about how since discovering my system self compassion has been a bit easier. (Because it’s not ‘me’)

We then moved onto talking about the littles. I talked about a few times where the trauma holder littles have come to front with terror and sadness, we recently put together a worksheet for what to do when that happens. Previously I’d be so overwhelmed with that terror, blending with the alter who’s feelings it is. So we made that worksheet. I talked J through what we did and how well the worksheet seems to be working.

In the past there’s been a lot of misplaced anger toward the littles from some of our system. Some inside believe they shouldn’t be fronting or that they’re unsafe / vulnerable. (We’ve addressed this before with J who taught us about boundaries and how important it is to let the littles learn about good and tricky people.)

J and I invited any other alters who have concerns about littles fronting / spending time with people outside the system. The consensus from inside was fuck off and a lot of anxiety. Which we figured out meant ‘we have concerns but you want specific examples which we don’t have so that’s making us panic and be on the defence. Can we talk about this another time when we have made a list?’ Which was an amazing breakthrough and we’ve made a plan to talk about the ‘pitchfork’ people in 2 weeks.

We rounded off the session talking about my relationships and the weird hero complex I seem to have. Things got messy and uncomfortable, with many from inside trying to pitch in their thoughts. so we’ve put that on the list of things to discuss.

Things are feeling so much more hopeful after that therapy session. It’s nice to be us, it’s nice to turn up and let anyone front and rant in a safe space.

#therapy logs #❤️ #about us #dice.txt