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fozmeadows · 1 year

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tools not rules: the importance of critical thinking

More than once, I’ve talked about the negative implications of Evangelical/purity culture logic being uncritically replicated in fandom spaces and left-wing discourse, and have also referenced specific examples of logical overlap this produces re, in particular, the policing of sexuality. What I don’t think I’ve done before is explain how this happens: how even a well-intentioned person who’s trying to unlearn the toxic systems they grew up with can end up replicating those systems. Even if you didn’t grow up specifically in an Evangelical/purity context, if your home, school, work and/or other social environments have never encouraged or taught you to think critically, then it’s easy to fall into similar traps - so here, hopefully, is a quick explainer on how that works, and (hopefully) how to avoid it in the future.

Put simply: within Evangelism, purity culture and other strict, hierarchical social contexts, an enormous value is placed on rules, and specifically hard rules. There might be a little wiggle-room in some instances, but overwhelmingly, the rules are fixed: once you get taught that something is bad, you’re expected never to question it. Understanding the rules is secondary to obeying them, and oftentimes, asking for a more thorough explanation - no matter how innocently, even if all you’re trying to do is learn - is framed as challenging those rules, and therefore cast as disobedience. And where obedience is a virtue, disobedience is a sin. If someone breaks the rules, it doesn’t matter why they did it, only that they did. Their explanations or justifications don’t matter, and nor does the context: a rule is a rule, and rulebreakers are Bad.

In this kind of environment, therefore, you absorb three main lessons: one, to obey a rule from the moment you learn it; two, that it’s more important to follow the rules than to understand them; and three, that enforcing the rules means castigating anyone who breaks them. And these lessons go deep: they’re hard to unlearn, especially when you grow up with them through your formative years, because the consequences of breaking them - or even being seen to break them - can be socially catastrophic.

But outside these sorts of strict environments - and, honestly, even within them - that much rigidity isn’t healthy. Life is frequently far more complex and nuanced than hard rules really allow for, particularly when it comes to human psychology and behaviour - and this is where critical thinking comes in. Critical thinking allows us to evaluate the world around us on an ongoing basis: to weigh the merits of different positions; to challenge established rules if we feel they no longer serve us; to decide which new ones to institute in their place; to acknowledge that sometimes, there are no easy answers; to show the working behind our positions, and to assess the logic with which other arguments are presented to us. Critical thinking is how we graduate from a simplistic, black-and-white view of morality to a more nuanced perception of the world - but this is a very hard lesson to learn if, instead of critical thinking, we’re taught instead to put our faith in rules alone.

So: what does it actually look like, when rule-based logic is applied in left-wing spaces? I’ll give you an example:

Sally is new to both social justice and fandom. She grew up in a household that punished her for asking questions, and where she was expected to unquestioningly follow specific hard rules. Now, though, Sally has started to learn a bit more about the world outside her immediate bubble, and is realising not only that the rules she grew up with were toxic, but that she’s absorbed a lot of biases she doesn’t want to have. Sally is keen to improve herself. She wants to be a good person! So Sally joins some internet communities and starts to read up on things. Sally is well-intentioned, but she’s also never learned how to evaluate information before, and she’s certainly never had to consider that two contrasting opinions could be equally valid - how could she have, when she wasn’t allowed to ask questions, and when she was always told there was a singular Right Answer to everything? Her whole framework for learning is to Look For The Rules And Follow Them, and now that she’s learned the old rules were Bad, that means she has to figure out what the Good Rules are.

Sally isn’t aware she’s thinking of it in these terms, but subconsciously, this is how she’s learned to think. So when Sally reads a post explaining how sex work and pornography are inherently misogynistic and demeaning to women, Sally doesn’t consider this as one side of an ongoing argument, but uncritically absorbs this information as a new Rule. She reads about how it’s always bad and appropriative for someone from one culture to wear clothes from another culture, and even though she’s not quite sure of all the ways in which it applies, this becomes a Rule, too. Whatever argument she encounters first that seems reasonable becomes a Rule, and once she has the Rules, there’s no need to challenge them or research them or flesh out her understanding, because that’s never been how Rules work - and because she’s grown up in a context where the foremost way to show that you’re aware of and obeying the Rules is to shame people for breaking them, even though she’s not well-versed in these subjects, Sally begins to weigh in on debates by harshly disagreeing with anyone who offers up counter-opinions. Sometimes her disagreements are couched in borrowed terms, parroting back the logic of the Rules she’s learned, but other times, they’re simply ad hominem attacks, because at home, breaking a Rule makes you a bad person, and as such, Sally has never learned to differentiate between attacking the idea and attacking the person.

And of course, because Sally doesn’t understand the Rules in-depth, it’s harder to explain them to or debate with rulebreakers who’ve come armed with arguments she hasn’t heard before, which makes it easier and less frustrating to just insult them and point out that they ARE rulebreakers - especially if she doesn’t want to admit her confusion or the limitations of her knowledge. Most crucially of all, Sally doesn’t have a viable framework for admitting to fault or ignorance beyond a total groveling apology that doubles as a concession to having been Morally Bad, because that’s what it’s always meant to her to admit you broke a Rule. She has no template for saying, “huh, I hadn’t considered that,” or “I don’t know enough to contribute here,” or even “I was wrong; thanks for explaining!”

So instead, when challenged, Sally remains defensive: she feels guilty about the prospect of being Bad, because she absolutely doesn’t want to be a Bad Person, but she also doesn’t know how to conceptualise goodness outside of obedience. It makes her nervous and unsettled to think that strangers could think of her as a Bad Person when she’s following the Rules, and so she becomes even more aggressive when challenged to compensate, clinging all the more tightly to anyone who agrees with her, yet inevitably ending up hurt when it turns out this person or that who she thought agreed on What The Rules Were suddenly develops a different opinion, or asks a question, or does something else unsettling.

Pushed to this sort of breaking point, some people in Sally’s position go back to the fundamentalism they were raised with, not because they still agree with it, but because the lack of uniform agreement about What The Rules Are makes them feel constantly anxious and attacked, and at least before, they knew how to behave to ensure that everyone around them knew they were Good. Others turn to increasingly niche communities and social groups, constantly on paranoid alert for Deviance From The Rules. But other people eventually have the freeing realisation that the fixation on Rules and Goodness is what’s hurting them, not strangers with different opinions, and they steadily start to do what they wanted to do all along: become happier, kinder and better-informed people who can admit to human failings - including their own - without melting down about it.

THIS is what we mean when we talk about puritan logic being present in fandom and left-wing spaces: the refusal to engage with critical thinking while sticking doggedly to a single, fixed interpretation of How To Be Good. It’s not always about sexuality; it’s just that sexuality, and especially queerness, are topics we’re used to seeing conservatives talk about a certain way, and when those same rhetorical tricks show up in our fandom spaces, we know why they look familiar.

So: how do you break out of rule-based thinking? By being aware of it as a behavioural pattern. By making a conscious effort to accept that differing perspectives can sometimes have equal value, or that, even if a given argument isn’t completely sound, it might still contain a nugget of truth. By trying to be less reactive and more reflective when encountering positions different to your own. By accepting that not every argument is automatically tied to or indicative of a higher moral position: sometimes, we’re just talking about stuff! By remembering that you’re allowed to change your position, or challenge someone else’s, or ask for clarification. By understanding that having a moral code and personal principles isn’t at odds with asking questions, and that it’s possible - even desirable - to update your beliefs when you come to learn more than you did before.

This can be a scary and disquieting process to engage in, and it’s important to be aware of that, because one of the main appeals of rule-based thinking - if not the key appeal - is the comfort of moral certainty it engenders. If the rules are simple and clear, and following them is what makes you a good person, then it’s easy to know if you’re doing the right thing according to that system. It’s much, much harder and frequently more uncomfortable to be uncertain about things: to doubt, not only yourself, but the way you’ve been taught to think. And especially online, where we encounter so many more opinions and people than we might elsewhere, and where we can get dogpiled on by strangers or go viral without meaning to despite our best intentions? The prospect of being deemed Bad is genuinely terrifying. Of course we want to follow the Rules. But that’s the point of critical thinking: to try and understand that rules exist in the first place, not to be immutable and unchanging, but as tools to help us be better - and if a tool becomes defunct or broken, it only makes sense to repair it.

Rigid thinking teaches us to view the world through the lens of rules: to obey first and understand later. Critical thinking teaches us to use ideas, questions, contexts and other bits of information as analytic tools: to put understanding ahead of obedience. So if you want to break out of puritan thinking, whenever you encounter a new piece of information, ask yourself: are you absorbing it as a rule, or as a tool?

#critical thinking #logic #rhetoric #purity culture #fandom #evangelism #hierarchy #thinking

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vhstown · 4 months

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super short london slang guide !!

i haven't got a scooby doo about cockney so this is mainly gonna be mle and like the way 14 year old secondary school boys talk oookay let's go (just so yk i am a londonder!!!!!)

direct things to call people (or avoid calling people)

bruv, blud, man, mate, fam (can use in replacement of a pronoun like he, she, you and i or for emphasis — "man's got a meeting, bruv!")

more on "man" it can be used in plural too — "us man" or "them man" or "you man"

my g, my guy (for referring someone you are friendly/friends with)

bossman (something you'd call a shop or business owner — "aye bossman get me the 3 wings and chips yeah")

big man (usually used in a sarcastic friendly but kind of demeaning way, the older cousin of "big guy" — "oi big man what you sayin' cuz?"

i wasnt going to put these here cause of personal preference but 😭 people are gonna use them anyway so i might as well tell you what they mean:

peng (adjective cute/pretty — "her? she's peng!")

leng (adjective hot/sexy — "rah, he's leng you know?)

nouns

ting (usually to refer to a girlfriend but can also just mean "thing"... or a knife? — "don't chat to my ting fam!")

grim (very outdated word for a promiscuous woman — "she's a grim bruv!")

skeng (gun)

shank, spinner (knife)

paper, Ps, pronounced "peas" (money)

ends (neighbourhood, area — "if i catch you in my ends yeah")

mandem (group of friends — "having a laugh at the pub with the mandem" aha)

gyaldem (group of women / female friends)

ganja (weed)

blem (cigarette)

pagan/paigon (snitch or untrustworthy person, not a super common you might wanna use "snake" or "snitch" instead)

wasteman (someone who's useless, a lowlife)

pussio/pussyo (pussy, coward)

other common words and phrases

wagwan, or "wag1" in text (what's up, what's going on)

bare (a lot — "i got bare problems with him!")

gassed (prideful, full of yourself — "im actually so gassed, man got promoted"

"and that" (instead of "and stuff" — "i got links and that")

"allow it" (let something slide — "i forgot my wallet allow it bossman")

safe (like "alright cool", or as a bye — "aight safe")

"pattern up" (fix up, get it together)

hard, tight (cool, good, though "hard" is also used in an offensive way — "bro thinks he's hard, pussio")

blam (to get shot, not actually very common to hear in my experience)

sheffed (up), shanked (to get stabbed)

ahlie (used as an interjection when in agreement with something, similar to phrase "am i lying?")

non-mle specific words i hear sometimes

thick (dumb, stupid)

clapped/tapped (ugly, weird, unattractive)

merk/murk (kill, beat up)

slag, sket (slut)

chav (used to refer to someone of the low social status, associated with violent or rude behaviour)

taking the mick, taking the piss (being annoying)

mad (means crazy obviously but people use it a lot, can have positive and negative connotations — "that's mad!")

nonce (literally means pedophile / sex offender, do what you will with it 😭)

dickhead, bellend (similar to douchebag)

wanker (used towards someone you dislike, or in a joking way)

geezer (usually to refer to an old man)

also!!!

depending on which communities are predominant in the area, words from other languages can come in / have come in

some words are common with US slang too because they share origins 😁 ain't that cool

there's a lot of influence from jamaican patois due to the history of british jamaicans in london for ex in words like "ting" or "mandem" or "wagwan" (hence why mle is sometimes referred to as "jafrican") and its not strange to hear "bomboclaat" or "bloodclaat" here either

in communities where there's muslims and arabs (especially in east london) you might hear arabic terms like "wallahi", "khalas" or "astagfirullah" (though people debate whether that's cultural appropriation or not)

south asians have also had an influence with words like "gora" or "ganja" though again this is largely area based and the impact of hinglish is also found a lot outside of london

some people have a mix of different dialects! i mainly alternate between mle and estuary (sometimes yorkshire don't ask it is very easy to pick up...)

you're not gonna hear every single word here all the time the usage varies throughout london. the way north and west londoners speak can be v different for example

uhhhh if you wanna learn properly just listen to some grime or sutn . listen to londoners speak!

for some more resources in-depth PLEASE check out these guides made by other british people ! (one and two)

ok that's it bye bye british ppl & londoners feel free to add on! it is midnight rn so ive probably missed stuff lol... dms are open in case you've got any questions or want any help :p

#vee rants #hobie brown x reader #spider punk #spider uk #hobart brown #hobie brown #hobie brown x gn!reader #british accent #london accent #potential to be edited

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thetriumphantpanda · 9 months

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two is better than one | joel & tommy miller

Summary | Frustrated that whatever you're trying to do still isn't working, you decide to give it one more try with Joel before cooling off for a while. Tommy is back to keep an eye on the both of you this time, but what happens when he starts to feel a little left out, watching his brother bring his girl over the edge more times than he cares to count?

Warnings | I swear I always start this the same way so here we go: Tommy getting cucked but also getting involved this time 👀, Joel being a fucking menace, dirty talk, oral sex (F&M receiving), face sitting, breeding kink, unprotected PiV sex, talk of infertility, no use of Y/N

Word Count | 3.8k

Authors Note | Whew. When I tell you this little threesome has been rotting my brain, I'm not lying. This is the only thing I can focus on, hence them being updated so fast! I just wanted to say a huge thank you to you all for the continued love you're giving this series - it honestly blows my mind every time that it's something you guys enjoy, that my writing reaches so many people and that they lap that shit up. I'm so grateful to everyone who has taken the time to comment, send me asks, reblogs and those who have slid into my DMs with all the love. I see you, I hear you, and I love you all - thank you. I hope you enjoy this next part just as much as the rest - it's a doozy. You know the drill, if you did like it, please consider reblogging, commenting or sending the love to my ask box, it's what keeps me going. And if you'd like to leave me a tip (of course no pressure!), then here's my Ko-Fi.

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Another month and another fucking negative pregnancy test. You knew it was irrational, but you were starting to think that maybe you were also part of the problem now. You’d been doing everything right, following all the advice in the books you’d bought almost a year ago when Tommy and you had first started trying for a baby. You’d been exercising, eating as healthily as possible, tried to keep yourself a stress-free as possible. You’d been keeping a close eye on your cycle and still, nothing to show for it.

When you clambered down the stairs, test in hand and flung it in Tommy’s direction, he already knew. He could see the heavy set of your shoulders, the quiet sniffling of you trying to hide the fact you were crying. Tommy had settled you on the couch, covered you in a blanket and made you some tea. Then he’d made your favourite meal for dinner, even driven to the store and picked up Diet Coke, emptied a can into a glass filled with ice and lime juice like you loved, but none of it really helped to soothe how upset you were.

The TV was on low, and he had your head in his lap, slowly stroking the strands of your hair as you tried to calm yourself down. Remind yourself that even the most fertile of couples needed to try for months sometimes before they had their first baby. It was stupid to think you’d be any different.

“You’re thinkin’ way too loud, sugar.” Tommy muses, letting his hand run up and down your arm instead.

“Sorry,” You mumble, “Just thought it would be easier.”

“I know,” He coos, “We can take a break for a while, if you want.”

You turn so you’re led on your back, looking right up at him, “I just want a baby.” You feel a tear slip down your cheek to pool near your ear.

Tommy uses his thumb to brush away the tears that have started to fall, bobbing his leg up and down gently to try and soothe you, “It’s still fresh,” He speaks softly, “Let’s give it a couple of days and see what you want to do, okay?”

You nod in agreement, feeling the beginnings of a headache pooling behind your eyes. You push yourself up into a sitting position and turn around to press a soft kiss to his lips, “I’m gonna go to bed,” You announce, “Headache.”

He lets you go, it’s still early and you know there’s the game highlights he wanted to watch. In bed, you can do nothing but toss and turn for a few hours. Every time you’d try to close your eyes, all you could see was vision of you and Joel, in all the different positions he’d put you in so far, and all for what? When the bedside clock hit 10:30, you head out to use the bathroom. As you near the door at the top of the stairs you can hear Tommy talking to someone, through the phone because his is the only voice you can hear.

“I know, brother, she’s just really beat up about it,” You hear him say, “I don’t know how to make it better.”

You lean against the closed bathroom door, wondering if perhaps you should leave Tommy to talk to Joel. There’s a pause where you can hear Tommy humming along to whatever Joel is saying on the other end of the phone.

“I dunno man,” Tommy sighs, “You managed to knock Sarah’s mom up on a one-night stand, guess I thought it would be easier for you.”

There’s another pause, then he’s speaking again.

“No Joel, all of her tests came back perfect,” Another sigh, “I was always the problem.”

You’re about to push down the handle to go to the bathroom when Tommy speaks again, “I don’t know, maybe we should just cool it for a while, we’re all gonna work ourselves up otherwise.”

You decide you don’t really want to hear the rest of the conversation. You sit on the toilet and let your face drop to your hands in frustration. Why couldn’t you just be normal? Why couldn’t you have been a nice, normal couple, having a baby in the most natural way possible? Why did this have to come along and fucking complicate everything? And why did Joel have to be so fucking good to you every time?

You wash your hands under the tap, water as scalding as it could go, just in order to feel something that wasn’t frustration before you head to bed. There’s no longer the sound of voices as you pad back across the hall and get back into bed, shutting off the lights and curling onto one side, knees as close to your chest as you can manage to get them. It’s not long before you can hear Tommy shuffling around upstairs. He pushes open the bedroom door quietly, obviously thinking you’re already asleep. You can hear him undressing before he's slipping onto his side of the bed, pulling your body close to his under the covers as he spoons you.

You let your own arm cover his over your waist as you lean back into the comfort of his chest, letting his breath fan across the skin of your shoulder as he presses a kiss to your skin.

“I wanna try again,” You speak softly into the dark, feeling Tommy’s arm’s squeeze you tighter, “Once more and then we cool it for a while.”

“You sure?” He asks into your ear, lips pressing to the sensitive skin behind your ear.

“I’m sure.” You respond, turning around in his arms to capture his lips in yours.

When the time comes to try again, it’s you who greets Joel at the door when he knocks. Tommy already upstairs and situated in the chair he had taken the first time you’d done this as a three. Joel leans down, lips just millimeters from your own, but instead of kissing your mouth, he places a soft kiss to your cheek instead.

“Hello, darlin’.”

You step up onto your tiptoes to press your own kiss to his face, just shy of the corner of his mouth – the kisses from last time still a secret between the two of you.

“Evening handsome,” You smile, pulling away from him to close the door as he steps inside, “You ready?”

“To give you what you want?” He smirks, “Always, pretty girl.”

You feel that telltale heat flush across your cheeks as Joel pulls you into his side, hand dipping down to squeeze your ass over the fabric of the robe you’d thrown on moments ago. God, why did he have to be so fucking intoxicating around you?

You take hold of his hand in yours, leading him up the stairs behind you. Tommy was reading a book as you entered the room, folding the corner of the page before setting it down on the nightstand closest to the chair. You can’t help but snigger as you watch him and Joel give each other the typical male greeting of a curt nod of the head.

You drag Joel by the arm to the foot of the bed, pushing his shoulders down so he sits on the edge. Then you take a step back and tug on the belt of your robe, letting it fall open and off your body to leave you completely naked in front of him. You watch his face as he trails those beautiful brown eyes over your body, letting out a low whistle of approval.

“Beautiful as ever, darlin’,” He compliments, reaching out a hand for you to take, “But you’re worked up, ain’t ya? And not in the good way.”

Your eyes flit to Tommy in the corner of the room, who has that smug ‘I told you so’ look on his face. You’d been itching for Tommy to arrange this since that ovulation test said you were in the zone, but Joel had been working away for the past two days, and now you were worried that if you didn’t hurry the fuck up, you’d miss your chance.

Joel reaches out and puts his hands on the back of your thighs, pulling you into him, he’s looking up at you, pressing hot kisses to the skin of your tummy, “Gotta relax babygirl,” He moans, “I’m tryin’ my damned hardest, but you just gotta let nature take its course.”

“Just frustrating.” You mumble.

“I know baby, I know,” He’s got his hands palming your tits now, “Long as I need to, I’ll keep fillin’ you up, y’hear me?”

Your breath catches in your throat and all you can do is nod as he moves himself back on the bed.

Joel leans back on the bed, his head just shy of the pillows, “Sit on my face, pretty girl.”

You’re almost embarrassed at how quickly you scramble yourself onto the bed, moving up to straddle his hips – even Tommy is chuckling from his chair.

“Can’t get enough of Joel’s mouth on your pussy, can you, sugar?” He speaks in a low voice.

Joel has his hands on your ass, guiding your naked body to hover over his face before his hands are slipping up to your hips to pull your cunt to his mouth. He wastes no time in getting straight to business, wide tongue licking stripes from your entrance, where he laps up your slick like a cat would cream, to those deliciously tight flicks of the tip of his tongue to your clit. You can hear him groaning into your pussy, your hand coming down to anchor itself into his hair to hold him still as you start grinding against his face.

You can hear the obscene slurps that he’s making underneath you, it’s half the reason you think it takes you no time at all to reach the edge, because he fucking enjoys this just as much as you do, he loves tasting you, loves making you feel good and you can feel that, can feel it on his mouth.

As you throw your head back as Joel’s tongue swipes perfectly across your clit, you catch Tommy in the corner of the room. He’s palming himself through his jeans as he watches you, your body writhing as his brother’s mouth brings you closer and closer to the edge. It wouldn’t hurt, would it? You think, if you asked if he wanted you to help him out.

“You feeling left out baby?” You coo, reaching your hand out for Tommy to take, “Joel gets my pussy tonight,” You punctuate with a grind of your pussy down onto his mouth, “But I can help you, if you want.”

He’s standing at the edge of the bed in minutes, his hand pressing into the back of your neck, not unlike how he tries to work the knots from there when you watch TV together. It’s soft and it’s loving and a complete juxtaposition to the vice grip that Joel’s fingers currently have on your hips.

Your lips are impossibly close to Tommy’s, you could easily lean forward and kiss him, instead, you have a demand, “Take off your pants.”

Tommy’s hands start to undo the belt holding his jeans up, so you turn your attention back to Joel between your thighs. He is expertly holding you right on the edge, you’re mewling and whining as he tongue works you to the edge, and then pulls away, moving down to gather more of your slick on his tongue.

You drop your head and catch his eyes looking up at you, “You gonna tease me all night, Miller?” You ask, voice cracking as he makes a point to suckle on your clit, making you cry out, “Fuck, make me come, please Joel.”

All of a sudden, Tommy’s hand is on your face, pulling your mouth to his own in a searing kiss as he guides your hand to his cock. You’re moaning, a combination of the fact that any second, Joel’s mouth is going to have you screaming and the fact that it’s Tommy kissing you, his cock you’re currently pumping through your fist. It’s delicious and it’s filthy and it should feel all shades of wrong, but it fucking doesn’t.

You feel it in your legs first, the way they begin to shake and pulse and your thighs clamp around Joel’s face. Then you feel it in your abdomen, like a knot unfurling all at once as pleasure bursts over every inch of your skin. Your mouth detaching from Tommy’s, so you can cry out his brother’s name as you feel yourself almost collapse onto him.

“Such a good girl,” Tommy breathes into your ear, your hand still firmly held around his cock, “So good when you come for us like that.”

You feel Joel’s hands tapping at the cheeks of your ass, telling you to lift yourself off his face which you do, dragging yourself down enough so that you’re sat across his chest, not caring that your leaking pussy is dragging slick all over him. His face is covered, covered in you. He’s grinning up at you like the devil, tongue circling his mouth to clean your taste from wherever he can reach.

“I gotta be inside you, pretty girl.” You can hear his gruff voice speak.

Tommy immediately moves back from you so you can settle yourself down on the bed. You start on your back, but Joel moves you to lie on your side. He’s still fully clothed behind you, but when he presses himself up against you, you can feel his thick cock straining in his jeans.

“Take your clothes off.” Is all you can manage to whine as Tommy settles on his knees on the space in front of you, taking the back of your head in the palm of his hand to bring your mouth to his cock.

Joel shuffles away from you and you feel the mattress lighten as he gets off the bed to shed his clothes. You almost wish you could watch, there’s something about the way Joel reveals his body to you that drives you wild. The way he drags his shirt off to reveal his broad frame, chest peppered with hair, or the way his cock bounces when he finally pulls off his underwear. But right now, you’re focused on making your man feel good.

You’re making sure that you’re doing it exactly as Tommy likes, almost telling him through the ministrations of your mouth how grateful you are for him, for this being his idea, for loving you enough and trusting you enough to let someone else give you what he cannot. You’re giving all the attention of your tongue to the head of Tommy’s weeping cock, tasting the salt and musk of his pre-cum, using one had to pump the base of his cock.

You can feel Joel settle back behind you, pressing his entire body against your own, hard cock slipping through the slick folds of your cunt as he settles himself in the right position, then, he’s taking hold of your leg, hand in the crux of your knee to pull it up, baring his prize. He slowly inches his cock inside your tight heat and suddenly it’s all a little overwhelming.

You’re giving the love of your life the kind of head you’ve only ever seen in porn, Tommy taking most of the control to thrust in and out of your mouth. You’re pretty sure the tears falling from your eyes are a mixture of his length hitting the back of your throat and the overwhelming emotion, love, and admiration you feel for both the men who are crowding your body, owning it, taking what they both want, one of them hopefully leaving you with what you want.

You pull your face away from Tommy’s cock for a moment, still giving his length the attention it needs, but you let yourself lean into Joel behind you, his cock still moving languidly inside you. He’s got one of his arms snaked under your neck, your head leant against his arm like a pillow, his other hand holding your leg up so that every time his cock brushes inside you, it’s hitting that damn spot that makes you want to cry.

“Look at you, lucky girl,” Joel growls into your ear as his lifts your leg up higher, pushing it almost to lie flat aagainst your side, “One cock in that pretty little pussy, another in your mouth,” You let a moan, muffled by the fact that Tommy is currently doing a slap-up job of fucking your throat, “He’s a lucky man,” Joel speaks again, “Bet that mouth feels divine.”

“You ask nicely, she might oblige you, brother.”

You feel him puff air through his nose in a chuckle, “I’m quite happy right where I am,” He speaks, pumping his cock so deep inside you that you actually think you can see stars, “You’re a lucky son-of-a-bitch gettin’ this for the rest of your life.”

“She’s special, I’ll give you that.”

It’s like you have to prove him right now. You can feel the walls of your pussy clenching around Joel as he picks up his pace. You can feel his balls slapping into your skin with every thrust, the power behind them causing your mouth to take Tommy cock deeper into your mouth every time.

“Sugar, I ain’t gonna last much longer.” You hear him speak from above you.

You pull off him, again letting your hand work him as you look up at his through your lashes, “You want me to swallow for you, baby?” You asked, wondering what you must look like when he looks down at you, fucked out from his brother, begging for him to come down your throat.

“There’s an offer I cannot refuse,” Tommy grins, letting your mouth take him back inside the warmth, “Such a good girl.”

He only lasts a few more seconds, cum hitting your tongue and seeping down your throat. You swallow down every drop, grinning up at Tommy. He leans down and plants a kiss to your lips, and now your focus is on Joel, thick and solid, pumping his cock in and out of you.

“You focus on Joel now, sugar,” He croons, “I’m gonna sit back and watch you have fun.”

As soon as Tommy has moved away from you, Joel is pulling his cock from your pussy, turning you onto your back before he’s crowding his frame over you, settling between your thighs. You’re pliant and you move easily when he hooks your legs over his shoulders, folding you back as he slips his cock back inside you.

You’re gripping his arms as he fucks into you in earnest now, tip of his cock bruising your cervix with every thrust, you know he’ll have half-moon shaped marks on his arms come the morning, they’ll match the bruises he always leaves on your hips, the shape of his fingertips indented into your skin.

“God fuckin’ damnit,” Joel groan, head falling to the column of your throat to graze teeth and lips over your delicate skin, “Gonna come so deep in this fuckin’ pussy it won’t have a choice but to take, you hear me, pretty girl?”

“Fuck!” You exclaim, as he shifts just enough to change the angle that his cock is spearing into you, “Joel please.”

“Please what?” He teases, “What do you want, babygirl?”

“Inside,” You breath out, “Want you inside.”

“Yeah, want me to make you a mama?” You can feel tears pooling in your eyes, “No need to cry, pretty girl,” He leans down, folding you in half even more, almost uncomfortable, to kiss away the tears, “Gonna give you what you need.”

He thankfully moves back a little, stopping your bones from screaming at you for being folded so inhumanely, then his thumb is on your clit, “Only gonna make you a mama if you come with me,” Joel smirks, “Deal?”

“Oh god – fuck – whatever you want,” You cry, “Please, give me what I want.”

His thumb is relentless on your already sensitive clit, those tight circles have you clenching around him and when you look into his eyes you know he’s just as close as you are, “That’s it baby, you keep those big, beautiful eyes on me,” Joel’s hips are snapping into your with a force you didn’t know you could feel, it’s entirely too much and entirely too little all at the same time, “Can feel that tight little pussy suckin’ me in,” You cry out as his thumb falters and drags across your clit in a way that has that not threatening to unfurl yet again, “It’s alright baby, if you come, I’ll follow, yeah?”

That’s exactly what happens. His thumb traces wet circles over your clit and you do exactly as he says. You keep your eyes wide open, staring directly into his own, as your mouth falls open with a screech as your vision clouds. Whatever happens, Joel is right behind you, his cock pounds into at most, twice more, before he’s growling your name through his teeth, cum painting every inch of your pussy. He drops your legs from his shoulders, and falls forward, letting his head rest in the crook of your neck as you both fight to catch your breath.

You wrap your arms around him but it’s all too soon before he’s pulling himself out of you, a kiss to your cheek as he does so. You’re spent and you’re aching and if you’re honest, a little overwhelmed. Joel dresses quickly, and you wish you could ask him to stay, wish he didn’t feel the need to run away, but you know it’s for the best. Tommy tells you he’ll see him out and come to bed, so you roll over and pull yourself under the sheets, trying to warm yourself from the cool air that’s spattering across the sweat of your skin.

Tommy is back within minutes having seen Joel off. He shed his clothes and moves right up behind you, gathering you into his arms. He takes some time to press kisses into your neck and across your shoulders and for some reason, it sets your belly on fire. How have you been fucked so thoroughly by another man, this man’s own brother, and now you’re aching for this man behind you.

“I love you so much, Tommy,” You whisper into the dark, clutching at his arms wrapped around you, “So fucking much.”

“I love you too baby,” He whispers into your ear, stilling your hips as they grind back into him, “Enough of that, I’ll give you what you want tomorrow.”

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lovelyyandereaddictionpoint · 9 months

Note

How the TWST boys would react to their S/o going blind (having her/they're eyes gouged) out

(Preferably Fem!)

Preference for characters : M. Draconia ; R. Rosehearts ; L. Kingscholar ; V. Schoenheit ; L. Vanrouge ; I. Shroud

- M. 🥀🦋

Forcefully Blind Reader | Yandere Twisted Wonderland

Not by them. They love you dearly and even when you fight them they’d rather blindfold you than brutalize your precious eyes. Now whoever had this done or made this happen will suffer the same fate plus a world of suffering in some cases eternally. But even with your precious orbs no longer there, they love you all the same and will be more than supportive of this new change:

Malleus Draconia

“If you cannot see then who deserves to!?”

Is livid

Raging indiscriminately until he finds a solution usually of the magical variety

Or by exacting his revenge with you encouraging him

If neither of those choices works he is practically glued to yourside

Kissing at your hand as he hovers over your bedside

You’ll have to convince him to let him be your eyes

In which he will create a description with poetry and flowery language

“Let me be your eyes, your sword, your everything!”

Riddle Rosehearts

“OFF WITH ALL THEIR HEADS!!!!!”

He’s going on a spree

With you safely tucked away he goes on a beheading and magic sealing spree

Returning to you with a hanged head and bloody clothes

He apologizes

He swore to protect you and this is what happened

But now you must let him take control for who else is so encouraged to detail your recovery and established routes in the home

“These unfortunate circumstance, my rose will be what gives us order. Please don’t resist me!”

Leona Kingscholar

“Grrrrarrr!”

Has more of silenced anger

He’s guarding you and having only his most trusted compatriots watch over you

Specifically while he gouges out your attacker’s eyes

When he returns to your side he’s heavily privy to the way it effects you

And thus he will nuzzle into your side

“You’ve got the other senses don’t you? We just have to make them stronger.”

Vil Schoenheit

“There…now you’ll have to trust that we both look immaculate today. You especially.”

He’s already ordered a hit on the aggressor

Because he has no time for potato dredge outside of taking care of you

He will admit he appreciates how much more you rely on him

How he can always have you just out of sight of the camera so he can keep an eye out for you

But ultimately he focuses on keeping your spirits up

“Lets avoid the negativity and explore the positives.”

Lilia Vanrouge

“Don’t worry love, nothing will change! Now we can play mystery finger more often!”

He is going to make your attacker suffer

He’s not going to kill them…on purpose

Because sometimes he gets a little carried away

He doesn’t change his inclination to tease

And he finds how much more sensitive you are to be so cute

And believe he’ll sooth you as you mourn your loss of sight

“There there my bat, we’ll make this work.”

Idia Shroud

“I-I can’t share the same games we used to…but on my life I’ll make this an experience we can share.”

He’s determined and resoundingly angry

Determined to find games and making inventions that will stimulate your other senses instead

Angry because this neet stole your eyesight from you

And it kills him to see you struggle around his room

So he puts more effort into cleaning or making robots that clean

But it does make a good case for keeping you in his room

“I’ll be here to help, and this way you can memorize where everything is! You’ll always be my player 2!”

1K notes · View notes

xtra7s · 3 months

Text

𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐘 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋𝐒 ★ 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟑

pairing: Renee Rapp x Reader

Synopsis: Y/N gets in a bit of trouble and Renee saves the day. Renee sees a bit into Y/Ns life beyond the act.

content: big warning for emotional abuse, manipulation, shit like that, drinking

word count: 2.9k+

masterlist | previous part

Renee's phone buzzed insistently, shattering the afternoon calm of her corner of the room. It was Adam, her manager, requesting an urgent meeting in his office. Curiosity gnawed at her as she navigated to the office, the fluorescent lights buzzing overhead. Inside, she found Adam pacing, an uncharacteristic crease etched between his brows. Beside him, Y/N sat quietly, her usual vibrant energy subdued. Y/N's manager, Connie, stood ramrod straight, radiating tension.

"Renee, thanks for coming," Adam started, his voice strained. "This concerns Y/N. We want you guys to finish writing, but..." He hesitated, glancing at Connie for confirmation.

"There's been a…development," Connie interjected, her voice clipped. "An unexpected turn of events that could potentially cast a negative light on you and Y/N if not handled delicately."

Confusion washed over Renee. Y/N is known for her diva posts and witty replies but rarely courted controversy. "What happened?"

Connie cleared her throat. "Well did you know Y/N went out last night?"

A memory clicked in Renee's mind. She'd seen a photo Y/N posted, posing with a few other people outside of a club, holding a goofy grin on her face. "Yeah, I guess. Why?"

"Well," Connie continued, a hint of exasperation in her voice, "turns out, Y/N here heard a guy talking about her friends, being –" she paused, her gaze flitting to Y/N, "Not very nice, and Y/N took it upon herself to shut him up."

Renee's brow furrowed. Y/N was passionate, that much was true but reckless? Unlikely.

As if reading her mind, Y/N spoke up, her voice surprisingly calm. "He was being an asshole running his mouth, I didn't do shit wrong."

Renee nodded in understanding. While Y/N was 'mainly' lighthearted, sometimes she gets intense. Renee would probably do the same thing.

Connie sighed. "Look, we appreciate your protectiveness, Y/N, but the backlash is getting intense. People are misinterpreting your intention, accusing you of just wanting to start a fight."

"So, what's the plan?" Renee asked, sensing the unspoken part of the conversation.

Adam leaned forward, his expression apologetic. "We need to do some damage control. Y/N will be taking a temporary break from social media for a few weeks. We'll have Y/N issue a statement clarifying her stance on it, and why it happened."

"But…" Y/N started, a flicker of protest in her eyes.

"It's for the best, Y/N," Connie interjected firmly. "This way, the heat dies down, and you can return with a clean slate."

Renee glanced between them, feeling the weight of the situation. While she understood the need for caution, she also knew Y/N thrived on engagement and connection. A forced hiatus might take a toll on her spirit.

Suddenly, an idea sparked in her mind. "What if, instead of silence, we used this as an opportunity?"

The room fell silent, all eyes fixated on her.

"Y/N could still use her platform, but with a different focus," Renee explained. "Instead of social media, she could create educational content – blog posts, videos, you said he was being an asshole right? what was it about?"

Y/N shrugs, slumping in her chair. "He was being fucking racist, homophobic, whatever the fuck. I'm not just gonna sit there and let my friends feel bad about that shit, it was supposed to be a fun night."

Renee nods, leaning in on the table. "Exactly so post about that shit. Captions being about your experience, shitty people, talk about the fact that its the 21st fucking century and people like that shouldn't fucking exist anymore"

Adam and Connie exchanged surprised glances. The idea was unconventional, but it held merit. Y/N's passion and reach, coupled with her genuine concern, could create a positive impact far outweighing the initial controversy.

"It's…different," Connie admitted, her voice softening. "But it could work."

Y/N's eyes lit up, a spark of her usual fire returning. "I love it! It's a way to turn this around, and make a difference while still using my voice."

A wave of relief washed over Renee. With Adam's hesitant approval and Connie's cautious optimism, the plan was set. Y/N wouldn't be silenced; she would be redirected, her voice amplified for a different cause.

The meeting came to a close, and Renee took a leap of faith. "Hey, Y/N," she began, "how about we continue working on the song over dinner? Maybe grab a drink together?"

Y/N, surprised by the proposal, hesitated for a moment before responding, "I've got plans tonight with friends, but you can tag along if you want."

Renee, intrigued by the unexpected invitation, agreed.

Later that night, she found herself standing before Y/N, who looked radiant in a tight dress that shimmered like moonlight. Renee, true to her style, wore comfortable yet stylish pants and a top that showcased her confidence.

"Ready to get absolutely hammered?" Y/N asked, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

Renee chuckled. "Always."

Renee couldn't help but be captivated by Y/N's presence. Her outfit was a perfect blend of chic and edgy, catching the play of lights in the club. The way Y/N carried herself spoke volumes – a mix of poise and a subtle hint of mischief. The club's atmosphere seemed to intensify with every step Y/N took.

Renee's eyes lingered on the way Y/N moved, effortlessly navigating through the crowd. The soft glow of the club lights accentuated the highlights in Y/N's hair, and the music seemed to harmonize with her every move. There was a magnetic quality to Y/N's presence that demanded attention, and Renee found herself unable to look away.

The Beat was alive with energy. Music vibrated through the air, pulsing with a rhythm that invited movement. Y/N led the way, greeting friends with warm hugs and introducing Renee with genuine enthusiasm.

The pulsating beat of the music echoed through the crowded club as Y/N and Renee navigated the lively atmosphere. Tonight was different – a blend of work and leisure as Y/N had invited Renee to join her and her friends. Among those friends was Y/N's boyfriend, someone Renee had heard about but never met.

As they approached the group, Y/N's smile widened. "Renee, meet Jake," she said, gesturing towards a man with a polite smile and slightly awkward demeanor.

"Hey, nice to finally meet you," Renee greeted, extending her hand. Jake shook it, his eyes flickering with a mix of nervousness and uncertainty.

Throughout the night, Renee couldn't shake the feeling that something was off about Jake. He seemed distant, his eyes often wandering, and his responses to Y/N's affection were lukewarm at best. As the trio conversed and shared laughter, Renee observed the couple, sensing an underlying tension.

At one point, Y/N excused herself to grab drinks, leaving Renee alone with Jake. An awkward silence hung in the air until Renee decided to break it.

"So, how long have you and Y/N been together?" she asked, trying to initiate a casual conversation.

Jake hesitated, his eyes darting around as if searching for the right words. "A few months, I think." he replied shortly, avoiding direct eye contact.

Renee's instincts heightened, and she couldn't ignore the unease settling in the pit of her stomach. Y/N returned, handing them their drinks, but the atmosphere remained strained.

As the night progressed, Renee couldn't shake the feeling that Jake was hiding something. His behavior became more erratic, and he seemed increasingly uncomfortable in Renee's presence. Observing this, Renee grew concerned for her friend, unsure whether to address the issue or wait for Y/N to bring it up herself.

Despite initial nerves, Renee quickly found herself swept up in the welcoming atmosphere. Y/N's friends were diverse and accepting, and their energy was contagious. Soon, laughter and conversation flowed freely, forging new connections between them.

The club's vibrant lights danced over the energetic crowd, and the music reverberated through the air as Y/N, Renee, and their friends enjoyed the night. However, things took an unexpected turn when Y/N's boyfriend, Jake, abruptly pulled her away from the group, a few tables down.

Renee couldn't help but notice the sudden change in Jake's demeanor. His face wore an expression of hostility, and as Renee discreetly observed from a distance, she sensed tension building between the couple.

Curiosity got the better of her, and Renee discreetly made her way closer to the commotion, keeping a safe distance but close enough to catch snippets of the conversation.

"Why do you always have to hang out with her?" Jake's voice carried a harsh edge, his frustration palpable.

Y/N, clearly caught off guard, tried to maintain composure. "Renee? She's just a friend. What's the problem?"

Jake's eyes flashed with anger, and he gestured toward the friend group. "I can't stand being around her. It feels like a threat. Are you trying to make me uncomfortable?"

Y/N, bewildered and defensive, responded, "Jake, she's just a colleague. We're working on a project together. It's not personal."

Renee, hidden in the shadows, felt a mix of concern and disbelief. She hadn't anticipated the depth of Jake's unease, and the scene unfolding before her raised alarm bells.

As Jake's voice grew louder, Renee debated whether to intervene or give Y/N some space. Before she could decide, Y/N's eyes met hers, a mixture of embarrassment and helplessness written across her face.

Renee chose to step in, approaching them calmly. "Everything okay here?" she asked, injecting a hint of hostility into her voice.

Jake shot her a venomous look, his anger directed toward Renee. "Mind your own business, Rapp. We're fine here."

Y/N, caught in the crossfire, attempted to mediate. "Guys, let's calm down. Renee, it's fine. We'll talk later."

As Renee reluctantly retreated, she couldn't shake the unsettling feeling that Y/N's relationship had taken an unexpected and troubling turn. The strained atmosphere lingered in the air, leaving Renee grappling with the realization that the music of the night had unexpectedly hit a dissonant note.

Trying to shake off the uncomfortable encounter with Jake, Y/N made her way to the bar, seeking solace in the rhythmic beats and the clinking of glasses. The dimly lit ambiance offered a momentary escape as she took a few sips, trying to drown the unease that lingered from the heated conversation.

Determined to salvage the night, Y/N joined her friends on the dance floor. The pulsating music enveloped them, creating a temporary sanctuary where worries could be momentarily forgotten. However, the tension from earlier still loomed in the back of Y/N's mind.

After a few energetic dance routines, Y/N decided to face the lingering issue. She approached Renee, who was now chatting with another friend and pulled her aside, away from the pulsating beats.

"Hey, Renee," Y/N began, attempting to sound nonchalant. "I just wanted to let you know I'm heading out with Jake. It's been a weird night, but I hope you enjoy the rest of it."

Renee, sensing the underlying tension, nodded and offered a supportive smile. "Sure thing, Y/N. Be safe, we'll catch up soon."

As Y/N disappeared into the crowd with Jake, Renee couldn't shake the nagging feeling that something wasn't right. The club's lively atmosphere continued around her, but a sense of unease lingered. Renee wished Y/N well silently, hoping that whatever turmoil existed in Y/N's relationship would find resolution.

With a sigh, Renee turned back to the dance floor, determined to immerse herself in the music and the joy of the night. Yet, in the midst of the celebration, a lingering concern for her friend colored the remainder of the evening. The dance floor pulsed with energy, but Renee couldn't shake the feeling that the night had taken an unexpected turn, leaving a discordant note in the air.

The night stretched into the early hours as Y/N and Jake returned to her house, the once vibrant energy of the club replaced by an unsettling tension. As they stepped through the door, the atmosphere shifted, and Jake's demeanor darkened.

Without warning, Jake started a fight, his words cutting through the air like shards of glass. He criticized Y/N for spending time with Renee, accusing her of purposely making him uncomfortable. Y/N, taken aback by the sudden escalation, attempted to defuse the situation.

"I don't understand why you're so upset," Y/N pleaded, her voice quivering with confusion. "Renee is just a friend, and tonight was supposed to be fun."

Jake's response was cold and manipulative. "You're always so sensitive. Can't you handle a little criticism? Maybe if you weren't so emotional, we wouldn't be having this conversation."

As the argument intensified, Y/N's attempts to reason with Jake only seemed to fuel his anger. He twisted the situation, placing the blame squarely on Y/N's shoulders. Tears welled up in her eyes as she felt the weight of the conversation.

"You're the one overreacting, Y/N. This is all in your head," Jake sneered, dismissively waving off her tears. "Stop being so sensitive, we wouldn't have these problems."

Y/N, overwhelmed and emotionally drained, couldn't comprehend the sudden turn of events. She felt trapped in a web of manipulation, her attempts to communicate met with hostility and blame-shifting. The tears fell freely now, a mix of frustration and heartache.

As the night wore on, the toxicity of the situation lingered in the air. Y/N's home, once a sanctuary, now felt like a battleground of emotions. Jake's manipulative tactics had left scars on the night, and Y/N found herself questioning the foundation of her relationship.

In the quiet aftermath, Y/N was left to grapple with the emotional aftermath of the night, hoping for clarity and resolution in the days to come. The echoes of Jake's harsh words lingered, a painful reminder that sometimes the deepest wounds come not from external forces but from those we hold closest.

In the hushed aftermath of the argument, Jake's anger continued to cast a shadow over the room. Y/N, emotionally drained and vulnerable, found herself on the receiving end of a twisted attempt at reconciliation.

With a feigned sense of remorse, Jake approached Y/N and gently touched her shoulder. "I'm sorry, babe. I didn't mean to ruin our night," he said, his voice laced with insincerity.

Y/N, still raw from the earlier confrontation, hesitated but yearned for a semblance of normalcy. As Jake leaned in, he pressed a kiss against her forehead, attempting to use physical intimacy to mend the emotional wounds he had inflicted.

"Let's just go to bed, okay? We can talk about it tomorrow," Jake suggested his words designed to manipulate Y/N into submission.

Caught in the confusing web of emotions, Y/N reluctantly agreed. The facade of normalcy seemed appealing, and the exhaustion from the night's events weighed heavily on her. As they lay in bed, a palpable tension lingered in the air, overshadowing any sense of true reconciliation.

Jake's actions, though masked in the guise of apology, left Y/N grappling with the unsettling feeling that something fundamental in their relationship had shifted. The room, once a sanctuary, now felt like a silent battleground where emotions were suppressed and genuine connection eluded them.

As she changed into her pajamas, Y/N's phone buzzed on the nightstand. With a curious glance, she saw a message from Renee.

Renee: Hey, you okay?"

Renee's message felt like a lifeline in the midst of the emotional storm. Gratitude washed over Y/N as she replied,

Y/N: Hey, thank you for checking in. I'm fine."

In the quiet darkness, Y/N couldn't shake the nagging doubt that this night would leave an indelible mark on her perception of Jake and their relationship. As sleep claimed the world around them, Y/N lay in the stillness, contemplating the complexities of love and the blurred lines between sincerity and manipulation.

As Y/N lay in bed beside Jake, her mind refused to be silent. The events of the evening replayed like a relentless loop, casting shadows over her thoughts. As she stared into the darkness, her mind involuntarily shifted towards Renee.

The contrast between Jake's manipulative behavior and Renee's genuine concern became starkly apparent. Y/N couldn't help but imagine how different it would be if Renee were in Jake's place – a realization that weighed on her heart.

Renee, with her kindness, understanding, and the support she offered earlier, seemed like a beacon of comfort in comparison to the storm that had engulfed her night with Jake. Y/N began to entertain the idea of how Renee, with her genuine nature, would be a far better partner, someone who valued communication and mutual respect.

In the quiet of her thoughts, Y/N couldn't help but imagine a relationship where trust was the foundation and where vulnerability wasn't met with manipulation. The idea of being with someone who cared for her well-being, as Renee had demonstrated, felt like a balm to the wounds inflicted by the tumultuous night.

As the night lingered on, Y/N found herself caught between the reality of her current situation and the fantasy of what a healthier, more genuine relationship could be. In the gentle embrace of these thoughts, sleep slowly claimed her, carrying with it a dream of a connection that transcended the toxic dynamics that had tainted her evening.

#renee rapp x reader #lesbian #wlw #the sex lives of college girls #renee rapp #leighton murray #leighton murray x reader #lgbtq #mean girls

245 notes · View notes

chloeangelic · 3 months

Text

addressing the drama (with receipts)

I wanted to have my ducks in a row before speaking out instead of just responding; I’m not doing this to change anyone’s opinions - it’s really not possible change someone’s perception of me even if it’s based on falsehoods - but I need to do this so I know I’ve said and shown what needs to be shown, and people can do with it what they please.

To the readers and writers who have blocked me, unfollowed me, and mutuals who have stopped talking to me over this - I’m really, really sad you didn’t come to me first and give me the opportunity to explain what was going on. I understand if you wanted to distance yourself from drama but I also need you to understand that this was not discourse-drama I willingly got myself into. This was a month of frequent harassment and slander that eventually turned into bullying by a group of people using false info, hiding behind side blogs and anons, and I hoped it would blow over but it never seemed to stop. With anons turned off for most of the last two months, people have gone to my friends’ inboxes instead to harass them about me (and insult them in the process), and I can’t do this anymore.

I feel so alienated and disliked in this community that I can’t go on the dash without feeling like I shouldn’t interact with anyone out of fear that they’ll get uncomfortable seeing me in their notifs. People keep saying they want the community to get better and then they jump on the bandwagon of vague posting and RBing without taking a second to verify the claims, clearly not realizing how much hurt it causes to perpetuate it. If you’re reading this, I hope your name isn't the next one they pull out of the hat when they want someone new to push off the platform.

Explanations, timelines and receipts below.

For anyone waiting for an explanation regarding the posts and anons about me that have circulated for weeks, or waiting for receipts proving or disproving that I’m a mean girl who spends my time talking shit, here you go. I am so beyond hurt, I don’t even know what to say. I’m floored, I’m so disappointed in this community and I’m so sad. In the last two weeks, I stayed up until 4am one night receiving screenshots of posts and anons about me, I cried, I tried to understand why this has happened to me, and I have sat here day after day with no answers.

If you think I’m being melodramatic, try losing a quarter of your mutuals and having a bunch of people block you when you’ve had either no interaction with them or they’ve all been positive, and see how that feels, on top of constant rumors about you being a terrible person when you know you’ve barely had any negative interactions with anyone on the platform. I can’t be on tumblr any longer without exonerating myself and putting it out there that all of this has been one gigantic mess based on lies about me, seemingly compounded by grievances people have against Gracie (some one whose personal conversations have nothing to do with me). Either I do this, or I log out forever and only post on ao3, cause I feel like the fucking grim reaper here. Posts about me being an awful person are still circulating, despite the original post being deleted and the follow up stating that the OP has talked to me and they have apologized.

I’m not naming names in this. I will be using person A/B/C/D to make it less confusing. I’ve removed identifying information from the screenshots because even though I’m hurt by these people, I know that they will get dogpiled and harassed if I identify them, and I want it all to stop. Several have apologized to me and I have accepted.

Sometime in December, rumors started circulating that there was a “big/elite writers discord” where they talked shit about small writers (I’m not in any discords specifically for writers and I have never heard of such a server). At about the same time, person A - someone who was very active in my own, now-deleted discord server, started frequently vagueposting about me, calling me a mean girl and, intentionally or not, made it seem like I was part of this “elite group of writers”. This is someone who I have never had a negative interaction with and who seemingly out of nowhere decided that I call myself elite and I’m a terrible person.

Person B had some grievances with myself, Iris, and Gracie it seemed, so they went to person C and accused us of talking shit in our voice chats. I assume person A and B have talked about me at some point and validated each other’s claims, but I can't know that for sure. Person B messaged me from a burner account and apologized, then seemingly deleted the account after I responded.

Gracie frequently posted about us three chatting, and although I understand this might have felt alienating to some, many writers are open about having group chats with each other. All we did was write, edit, and Gracie sometimes made memes. We talked about non-fic stuff often, and when Gracie had an issue with other writers and she was upset, we talked about it. That’s what friends do. She knows that I believe those situations were handled poorly. One of those situations came to light recently - I had a very pleasant conversation with the writer involved, and we are still in touch.

I have spoken to person C, who posted the most “popular” smear post about me and some of my friends. They retracted their statements and profusely apologized to us, admitting it was based on stuff they heard from person B, showing me screenshots of the conversation. However, their original posts are still circulating through reblogs despite being deleted from their account.

Person D also posted about me and my friends, however their post was sort of ridiculous, accusing me of spending more time replying to anons than writing. I found this funny, but the way they slut shamed my friend was absolutely not humorous, and dragging a random writer in to criticize them was a strange attempt at adding fuel to the fire.

And for the receipts,

I blocked person A after seeing a handful of vague posts clearly about me, and after they interacted with every single rude anon posted about me that I saw. I think that’s reasonable, no? I’m not gonna post screenshots of their posts cause I honestly just don’t want to look at them again, they make me feel kind of sick if I'm honest, but if anyone doesn’t believe me, they are welcome to DM me and I will send.

Person B messaged me, admitted to partaking in this mess, and apologized. This is part of a LONG message:

Person C apologized over message and called me on discord. We had a conversation clearing things up, they deleted their posts and wrote a public apology.

If you need any proof that person B’s claims were, in fact, baseless, look at this exchange between person B and person C after person C had cleared things up with me.

Person D honestly just creeps me out, cause what the fuck is this? Fine if you don’t like me based on my writing or my persona on here but… Why the witch hunt?

ETA: Person C asked person D to take down their post and they never responded. This was sent prior to that, I know the full context, I just thought this specific part was worth sharing to show how vile some people allow themselves to be behind burner accounts.

What kind of behavior is this? This was from a sideblog, and I don't know what their main account is. It creeps me the fuck out knowing this person is lurking somewhere in the community.

I have hated every moment of this. None of this has been fun for me. This has completely fucked up my motivation to write and my enjoyment of it, it has made me anxious, it has messed with my self esteem, and it has made me want to log out of Tumblr and not come back.

Please, I beg, if you have an issue with me, just come to me and I promise I will have a conversation with you. You can’t tell people’s tone over anon and I don’t think that’s a good way to have a conversation, especially one about something that should be solved in private, so they remain off, but my DM’s are open.

I'm so sick of seeing vagueposts and trying to decipher if they're about me. Having to do that a bunch of times messes with your head.

I'm not sure what to do moving forward, but I needed to say my piece. I don't want to talk about this again, I want to put this behind me. I seriously hope this doesn't wreck my last remaining want to share my writing on here.

Thanks again to everywhere who has supported me in my DMs and comments, you mean the world to me 🤍🤍🤍 And if you found yourself duped by all this but change your opinion on me now or eventually, I won't hold a grudge, and I'm happy to speak again and pick up where we left off.

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poppyswriting · 5 months

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𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐓…

Blitzø coming into your house out of nowhere as if it was normal.

It’s been a while since you started working with I.M.P and you couldn’t say anything negative it was quite the gig and it wasn’t like the missions sometimes weren’t fun to do.

It was one of the large amount of jobs that you had that actually gave you something to think about instead of your shitty life. You had great friends too, Millie and Moxxie were great Loona, well you were getting into that. But Blitzø was definitely the one that was the closest to you.

And you meant it literally and metaphorically. Ever since you entered I.M.P you’ve been building a pretty good friendship between the two of you. And he sometimes even got off the hip of Moxxie and Millie to your hip which the couple noticed almost straight away. Of course Moxxie was happy about this and relieved while Millie just smiled talking about it being her boss was making more friends. You didn’t mind it, before this job you were a full time loner. You didn’t had much friends so you had your house all for yourself, everyday.

But that changed when one day you woke up at the middle of the night hearing some noise coming from your dinning room. Robbers you thought, as you reached for your nigh drawer and pulled off a knife you had there just for this type of cases. With smooth movements you approached the hallway as silent as you could. This wasn’t a situation that surprised you since your landlord and the guards at your apartment complex were total lazy asses, so it was just about time someone snuck up and tried to steal something.

Looking by the frame of your wall you looked to see the silhouette of an imp roaming through your fridge. You kinda felt bad, maybe the imp didn’t had any food and wasn’t in the position to buy any. But from all of the apartments it had to be yours, well you weren’t letting that little thing steal anything from you as you approached their back. And unconsciously holding your breath you raised you knife ready to stab them before they moved rather quickly taking your arm and pinning you against the wall.

You hissed at this as they let go as quickly as they noticed your face, turning around you expected a strange face but you were met to…. Your boss?

“Boss? What the fuck are ya’ doing here?” You lowered you knife while you saw how he avoided looking into your eyes and fidget with his fingers. “Wait, wait have you been entering house before?” You frowned, the thought of him going into your home before it didn’t bother you as much like a normal person would it just confused you why.

“Hey, look I don’t mind just.. Warn me the next time you come in here. You got me thinking you were a robber or some shit.” He chuckled while sighed and yawned, looking over tot he fridge to se wit was still open.

“Did you took anything?” he avoided eye contact again, making you frown. “Blitz..” you walked over to your fringe, strange, nothing seemed wrong. “You ran out of butter.” You heard him say and you checked, did he ate the fucking butter?

“How did you- never mind I don’t even want to know.” You sighed and closed the fridge door, you checked the clock in the wall and it said 2:36am. Good dear it was late, you grabbed Blitzø’s hand and walked him to your bedroom. “Why are you taking me here?”

“Hey, you wanted to crash in here I’m not going to judge you. My bed is not that big so careful you don’t fall.” You lifted the sheets and moved closer to the wall so he could lay in that spot, he seemed a little surprised by this since Moxxie and Millie always threw him out in the nicest way they could. So he smiled and lay there besides you, pulling the sheets over him and getting himself comfortable.

after some minutes you heard low snoring sounds, that meant he was sleeping. Good, tomorrow was Saturday so it wasn’t like you got to get up in the morning and wake him up too. But your thoughts cleared for a second when you felt his tail make its way up to you thigh to then curl up in your whole leg. You chuckled a little and smile at this, it was cute you couldn’t deny it. So you returned the favor by making your tail curl up in his, good now you two were even.

#helluva boss #helluva boss x reader #helluva x reader #helluva blitzo #blitzo x reader #helluva loona #helluva millie #helluva moxxie #moxxie #thinking about #just something cute #x reader

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thelightsandtheroses · 8 months

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One: I was just coasting until we met

Your Hand In Mine | Joel Miller x female reader

Summary: When Joel finds you on your self-assigned insomnia bench one night, it sparks an unexpected friendship that quickly develops into more. Finding peace in the middle of an apocalypse always seemed impossible, but being with Joel feels natural, like a missing piece has fallen into place at last. When a ghost from your past threatens to destroy the peace you’ve found in Jackson, everything will change.

Word Count: 2.5k

Overarching Series Warnings - 18+ blog - minors do not interact, unexpected friendship, developing relationship, idiots in love, flangst, typical TLOU content, references to cults, references to past manipulation, references to past violence, references to PTSD, single parent reader, some secondary original characters, etc. No use of Y/N, any further warnings to be added as appropriate. No specific age for reader, but range is implied in later chapters (minimum of 30s but not specified any further than that) Notes: This idea has been going around my head for months and I’m so excited to actually do something with this and share it. Also, a special thank you to the lovely @darkroastjoel for encouraging me to write this weeks ago when I wasn’t sure of the concept. The chapter title is from I’m With You by Vance Joy.

One: I was just coasting till we met

Series List | Next

Jackson, WY, 2024

There’s nothing but stars and night sky ahead of you. If you look behind you, you can see a few sparse lights illuminating houses in Jackson, but ahead of you there are no distractions, just the trees and the sky and vastness of the world around you.

The air is cool and smells fresh; a mix of woodland, of the night. You adjust the thick woollen cardigan around your pyjama top and faded sweatpants. There’s no one around at this time of night so you haven’t made a real effort to get dressed or worry about your appearance.

You’ve come here many times before but it never fails to take you aback. The vastness, the stars, the way it makes you feel insignificant but not in a negative way. The only sounds you can hear are the insects and wind blowing through trees.

It’s peaceful, or as close to peaceful as exists these days. For a while, you could forget about the world you live in, convince yourself the last twenty years have been some sick fever dream instead.

In the two years you’ve lived in Jackson, this has become your spot. It’s where you go when you can’t sleep. It’s where you go when the past gets to you, when you either wake because of creeping nightmares and ghosts, or after hours of lying in your bed in a restless, anxious state wishing for slumber.

You only ever come here at night. It’s as if there’s some sort of magic in place that would either ruin or remove the bench in the daytime.

When you first came to this town, the idea of wandering around in the middle of the night seemed preposterous, downright reckless after living in Kansas QZ.

However, one night you hit a breaking point.

You’d been lying in your bed, restless and unable to relax. Every time you thought you might finally drift into sleep, your heart would race and your throat would be so dry that you wondered if you were dying. You would become irrationally concerned you might just stop breathing if you did fall asleep at all. It was a pattern of insomnia that had followed you for years, from before Kansas and beyond. When you did finally sleep, you’d have nightmares, but most of your nights were shaped by restlessness.

That night, as you desperately tried not to wake anyone else up, hating them all for being able to sleep, you felt like you were going to finally break. You had to get out, just clear your head a little.

You discovered the bench that night, perfectly positioned to watch the sunrise, to take in the world around you without distraction or worries.

It’s a special spot; serene and soothing. It’s your sanctuary.

Sometimes you don’t need to come here, your record is a week and half away - an achievement you only reached a few days ago, but inevitably, and usually at least twice a week, you’ll end up back on your bench waiting for the sun to meet you and wash away your ghosts.

There’s the crunching sound of boots on gravel behind you and you turn around cautiously, one hand clinging to the edge of the bench. You’ve been complacent, you chastise yourself, you don’t even have a weapon with you.

Joel Miller stands before you; a battered brown coat buttoned up to his neck, torch in one hand, with the other jammed into a jacket pocket, and a bemused expression on his face when he sees you sitting there.

You’ve heard enough of him from the other locals since his arrival; he’s Tommy’s older brother, Maria isn’t sure of him, he settled here with a teenage ward a couple of months ago. Some of the other locals have said Ellie, the girl, is almost feral. Your impression of her from fleeting visits to the library is that she’s curious, she’s haunted, not used to a community like Jackson (and these days, who would be?) and perhaps the most honest person you’ve met in years.

”May I?” he asks, indicating the empty space on the bench next to you. You almost want to laugh at the Southern lilt to his voice, the polite manners he’s showing you.

‘May I?’ is not a phrase that belongs in this world anymore. People take, some people give, but most take. When the world ends, manners fade. When the world ends, you ask for forgiveness and not permission.

It’s why your instinct is to say no, to say ‘Actually fuck you, Tommy’s brother, and go find another insomnia bench, this one is mine!’

You don’t do that though. Jackson brings back those manners, or it’s trying to at least. And even if you think it belongs to you, technically it’s not your bench because this is a stupid commune.

So you grimace and nod, frustrated about the interruption as Joel Miller sits next to you.

It’s the first time you’ve had a chance to look at Tommy’s brother this closely. While you can see the familial similarities, Joel’s different. His greying dark hair is far shorter, almost messy at the moment like he’s just woken up and walked here. It’s almost endearing.

There’s a scar on the right side of his temple, the one closest to you, and you try and take in every detail of him, to analyse and evaluate just who this person next to you could be.

You expect to feel uncomfortable at his presence, to feel on edge and ready to flee or pounce, but you don’t.

“It’s uh, a good view from here,” Joel says after a moment.

You nod noncommittally and clasp your hands together on your lap.

“I’ve seen you around Jackson. I’m Joel,” he continues. His voice is surprisingly soft, gentle as though he wants to put you at ease. It shows a level of consideration you didn’t expect, one that makes you more honest in your reply.

“It’s a small town, I know who you are, Joel Miller.”

“Oh really?” he asks, cocking an eyebrow and for a second something else flashes across his face. “What have you been told about me then?”

“You’re new, you’re Tommy’s brother. I think that’s about it. Heard you and Tommy are good on patrol.”

“Oh yeah?” Unlike most of the men in Jackson, he doesn’t seem to puff with pride at that compliment. He looks at his hands, wringing them together then before asking, “So, that’s me. What about you then? What’s your name?”

You introduce yourself, taking in the way he repeats your name - how it sounds on his lips.

“I haven’t seen you around town much before,” he says after a moment.

“Would you have even noticed?”

“Someone like you? Most definitely.” You look at the ground in surprise, certain that you’re misinterpreting his words.

He’s just being polite.

It’s just the insomnia.

“It is a good view. You’re right,” you say quietly, keen to shift the conversation away from yourself and back to this moment. “It’s a really great spot for the sunrise.”

“I know,” he says calmly.

You pause. Has Joel Miller been using your bench when you haven’t? Is your bench essentially cheating on you? You’ve always believed this was your secret, your place, but perhaps it’s a timeshare instead.

For some reason, the thought of that upsets you more than you expect. You try and shake it off though, to be polite and good and everything someone who lives in Jackson is expected to be.

Perhaps you can share the bench … today. Just for today.

“How are you liking Jackson so far then?” you ask.

Joel scoffs quietly to himself and you look over with raised eyebrows.

“Been asked that a few times already, huh?”

“You could say that.”

“Why am I not surprised? Well, we don’t get that many new arrivals and you’re Tommy’s brother. People were bound to talk. They’ll settle down when something else comes along.”

“‘S been weeks now. Besides, I thought you just said you don’t get many newcomers, how long exactly is this going to last?” he asks, leaning forward for a moment, his arms crossed on his knees and head down.

You smile to yourself, wondering if you should admit how long it took for people to stop asking your group how you were liking Jackson, how long it has really taken to be seen as a resident and not a new arrival.

“Well, there’s a new litter of puppies due soon, and I heard a rumour that there’s going to be another dance again in the next few weeks. Your arrival will become old news before you know it,” you say with false sincerity.

He chuckles to himself. “This really is like a small town, huh? That uh, -“

“Nosiness? Lack of privacy? Gossip mill?”

“All of the above. So, you think puppies will help?”

“Everyone loves puppies, Joel Miller. Probably even you do.”

He smirks. “Really, do I look like that to you?” There’s a teasing tone to his voice, mischief in what you can make out of his eyes in the dim light.

“Sure you do.”

“So we’ve just got to wait for a bunch of puppies or some town dance for me an’ Ellie to be old news? Okay, here’s hoping.”

A silence falls between you but unlike before, it feels companionable, calming even.

“So, you said ‘I know’ when I said it was a good spot for the sunrise. Does that mean you’ve been out here before then?” you ask as your curiosity finally wins out.

Joel looks over at you with a smirk, “Why, is that really bothering you, huh? A couple of times, sure.” He shifts his weight slightly, places an arm on the bench and turns himself so he’s facing you.

“I just haven’t seen you out here before, that’s all.”

“You come out here at this hour a lot?” Joel raises an eyebrow that you can’t tell whether conveys being impressed or incredulous.

“Sometimes,” you say lightly. Most times.

“How long have you been out here then?” Joel asks.

“On this bench? About an hour. In Jackson? Two years, give or take.”

“An’ how are you likin’ Jackson so far?” he asks, a mischievous spark in his eyes that even in the dim light takes years off him, makes him look lighter.

You laugh before you can stop yourself.

“Touché, Joel.”

“Couldn’t resist.”

“Do you know what? Honestly, I didn’t believe it at first,” you say after a moment. “Places like this - they don’t work, okay? Someone always wants to be in control, power abhors a vacuum and then power corrupts, right? We were watching that play out before cordyceps, and if I’ve learned anything these last twenty years … so when we got here, I didn’t want to stick around too long. I guess that I kept waiting for the other shoe to drop? Only now, now I’m still here and I guess this place, maybe it just works. It shouldn’t, but it does.”

You’re not sure what makes the truth spill out of you like that. Perhaps it’s because it’s the middle of the night, or it’s the power of the bench, or more likely, it’s because you know Joel is probably out here for a similar reason to you.

You can see it in his eyes, in the way he’s sitting.

“That’s what my - my - I’ve heard that before. That this place actually works,” Joel says. “I know what you mean though. You see enough of all that in the QZs. Is that where you were before here?”

“Before Jackson, I was in Kansas for a while.”

“Oh.”

“Huh, I take it you’ve heard the stories then?”

Kansas had a reputation amongst all the remaining QZs. FEDRA had been brutal there; ruled the city with an iron fist and realised every nightmare of a brutal regime.

It was no surprise the fireflies had been so present there at one point, the symbol of hope and rising up against tyranny. Only they had abandoned Kansas years ago and it was down to those who stayed to try and fight back. You remembered Michael, who had tried to lead a movement against FEDRA, a man who was working towards a peaceful rebellion, as if such a thing could exist. The QZ had gone dark months ago though. It didn’t bode well and you’d heard the whispers that perhaps Kansas was no more.

“I uh - passed through on my way here.” Joel shifts awkwardly.

“It’s gone, isn’t it?”

Joel pauses and regards you carefully before he replies.“Yeah.”

“I take it that FEDRA and Michael’s group just - it doesn’t matter actually.” They’re all dead anyway, you think, the facts won’t change that.

Flashes of years pass you.

Violence. So much violence. Then those moments between, the ones that managed to burrow and bury themselves beneath your skin.

Your ex-boyfriend and you kissing in the kitchen of your crappy apartment …

Your birthday - singing to that cheesy rock song in the living room and dancing to an old song with Sean and his sister.

Marking Gabriel’s height each birthday on the kitchen wall because it felt like a normal thing to do, a new line each year, each growth spurt measured.

Your ex-boyfriend and you arguing over the system, over the possibilities for Kansas. You wonder how long he lasted after you left Kansas - if he was there for its end.

Separations … losses … too many deaths … pockets of hope and continued disappointments.

You okay?” Joel asks, a reluctant expression on his face.

“I’m fine. Left there for a reason.”

“Right.”

“It’s fine.”

Kansas had never really been home. You can’t make a home in a place you’re constantly on alert in, where you subsist on fear and anxiety. You could exist there though and at least in Kansas it was clear who was running the show, clear who was in charge.

Jackson is the closest to a home you’ve found in more than twenty years, and even here you feel halfway out of the door.

Joel’s still looking at you though, his brow furrowed like you’re a map he can’t read, an unfathomable equation.

You shrug and resume staring ahead at the forest ahead, at letting every sound, smell and sound around you just soak in, to create an illusion of peace.

After a while you steal a glance at Joel. He’s still on the other side of the bench; the hand on the arm leaning on the bench now pinching the space behind his brows, his eyes momentarily shut.

You’re not sure exactly how much time passes like this but soon the darkness fades and dawn rises to greet you with the promise of a new day.

You stand up, brushing imaginary dirt off your clothes and meet Joel’s gaze. “See you around, Joel Miller.”

“See you,” he replies lightly.

As you walk down the hill, you turn around and notice Joel’s still sitting there, focused on the horizon ahead.

This isn’t going to be the only time you find Joel on your bench, you realise. Suddenly, your lonely but peaceful sanctuary has an addition. You know the two of you will find yourselves on this bench again in the middle of the night.

If you hadn’t spoken to Joel, the loss of that solitude would be devastating, but it’s not.

So, you think to yourself, it turns out you’re not the only insomniac wanderer in Jackson.

Tag List

YHIM: @orcasoul @pedropascalsbbg @yoursoulsunbreakable @iamskyereads @genetics4life @everyth1ngfan @frickatives @perennialdoll247

Everything Pedro tag-list: @harriedandharassed @pedrostories @hiroikegawa @pedrosaidsheispunk

If you want to be added to (or removed from) one of the tag lists, let me know or you can get notifications for @thelightsandtheroses-fics if you prefer. If you do not have an age or age range showing you are over 18, I will not add you to this list. I block ageless and blank blogs.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x female reader #joel miller #the last of us fanfiction #pedro pascal character #joel miller fanfiction #the last of us #your hand in mine fic

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starilianreads · 2 months

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𝕎𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕕𝕠 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕟𝕖𝕖𝕕𝕕 𝕥𝕠 𝕙𝕖𝕒𝕣 𝕣𝕟!!

Hello everyone!! Hope you're all doing well! So.. after so many days I'm back! And now I'll upload pac every Sunday:) yeah!! Idk how I didn't understand how I got so busy every fuckin day, and like still don't know what the heck, I even worked on? Like seriously?! (Capricorn traits ig?😅😂)

Disclaimer

This is solely based on my intuition, so please take everything with a grain of salt, because somethings are meant for you and some don't so take what resonates

English is not my first language so I apologise for any grammatical mistakes=)

This reading is divided into 2parts:-

Your current energies

Messages you need to hear

These are some artworks of my brother, so I decided to upload them today! Yes!!

PICK ONE!!

Pile 1!!

Hi pile 1! Welcome to your reading!! So first let's talk about your current energies.

Okay so we have 2 situations here but leats talk about the overall energies first, so you're definitely working towards something, most likely for material gains, like working on some kind of project or something to earn money or becoming independent if you're an young adult rn. With the chariot here it's like the work you're doing is definitely going to be successful and yk it, now the situation comes, either you're doing whatever you're doing to prove something, or to distract yourself from the anxiety or worry. And yeah imo you're doing good, because in both cases, you're heading towards something successful and you got no time for even thinking shit, yeah! That's the energy, and even if you're not doing something for material gains, here's this energy of "journey" so maybe you're doing something on yourself? You're probably working on yourself, and you're going to win in it! Like you're getting clarity and guidance for whatever you're doing, and whatever you're going to do next!! Wow pile 1! Wow!! I love your energies!💕 You're definitely moved on from the past, and you're no more being stuck there, or like not even on negative thought patterns! Yeah you're definitely working on yourself and really gaining clarity over any illusions you had and you're finally releasing something!

Now let's talk about what do you need to hear rn

So the messages are really positive pile no.1! Universe is saying keep going!! Whatever you're doing just keep doing it! They're guiding you and they also want you to reach your highest potential!! Don't be stuck on whatever you have gone through (which you aren't ofc!) But there's an energy of gaining clarity about why the things happened, there's this answer coming in for you for whatever you've gone through, these all are some karmic lessons, you've to learn since past life maybe, and now finally you did it! And as I said in your first part as well, that yes! You're winning! I'm hearing, "it's a win-win situation!!" With the queen of pens, you're definitely heading somewhere so beautiful! Where you've enough to give and help others, and still very abundant! Awww you guys!! Number 8 will be a significant no. For you, whether it's your life path, or current year no. Or just can be anything, your birthday even?! Universe is just cheering for you!! "KEEP GOING!!!🎉🫶🏻" YOU GOT THIS!

Thank you pile no.1 for being here! I appreciate your time and efforts! Hope you liked this, if you want a paid reading for me, you can DM me and follow me for more!!💜

Pile 2!!

Hii pile no.2 welcome to your reading!! So first let's talk about your current energies.

Okay pile no.2 you're starting from 0, you ended something significant in life, whether you made efforts to get something to an end or the universe, something is there which is ended and now you've started from 0 again. Things were probably mismatched, and like very mixed up before, like for eg. Things should end up like 10op but instead ended like 10os and your journey was of swords but in between, sometimes things make up as 4oc or 4op and like then got shifted to 6os or something like that, ik it's complicated a bit, and like people who do tarot can only understand it maybe, but like things are so misplaced in eachothers like someone else's path things was happening with you, which wasn't even yours something like that. I hope you got it now, and you're now starting it again, in hopes that it'll get better, and I hope that it won't be mixed up now! I think you have so many people from different from your own, which is not the bad thing, but this can be the reason for that. And empress here shows that you're also started some self-love routine and things to keep yourself on track, and things really seem to be organised now:)

Now let's talk about what do you need to hear rn!

Hmmmm, pile 2, there seems to be a spritual awakening happening for you, like you have to really balance yourself out now, it seems like you have balance inside, but you have to balance yourself in the physical realm as well, like organise your routine,your to-do list and stuff, and here we have 2 situations, either the spritual awakening will be like a tower moment for you, where you have to handle things maturely, or like it'll come through when you'll balance your life out, inside and out. Yeah and idk why, I'm getting a strong message for you guys, that (this has also 2 situations in it) that either someone is coming in your life, feels like a soul family member to me, or the confidence, motivation, and passion which you're lacking is restoring for you! Or it can be both!! Yes, but you really have to balance yourself out, and also expect the unexpected because it is happening at a very random moment with the tower. Ig spirit is trying to tell you, to play the "king of cups" role now. And whatever happens handle it with care and maturity.. accept and apply the lessons you've learnt so far, you got this!!

Thank you pile no.2 for being here! I appreciate your time and efforts! Hope you liked this, if you want a paid reading for me, you can DM me and follow me for more!!💜

Pile no.3!!

Hii pile 3 welcome to your reading!! Let's talk about your current energies first!

May I ask pile no.3 are you manifesting something?? Anyways, I see you have so many responsibilities on yourself, because also I heard a line "that with great power comes great responsibilities" and so for you pile no.3 you're doing something significant in your life, similar to pile 1 maybe yeah pile 1 and you're very confident about it, I should suggest you to check pile no.1 because it has the kind of same energies as you have. With the karma card, it's like the divine timing is at play, and you can't do anything except to just go with the flow, but you really have so much passion and motivation inside of you that things happen for the better and with the world card it seems that whatever is happening is really good not negative or anything. Idk but in your reading my incense got on fire 2 times lol😂😂 you really have so much passion pile no.3 inside:)

Now let's see what do you need to hear

It's very exhausting for you rn, to work all alone, so spirit is sending you help to share your work with others, ask help from other's, you don't need to do everything alone, and you're not alone either. I see you getting time for some rest and rejuvenation. There is some help around you, or like people are there that are saying to you, to don't overwork but you're not listening to them, listen! Idk but they can be any water sign, but specifically a cancer is coming in for helping you:) your messages are little less in compare to other pikes, but you just need some rest, nothing else, it'll help you seeing things with a newer perspective what you really need:)

Thank you pile no.3 for being here! I appreciate your time and efforts! Hope you liked this, if you want a paid reading for me, you can DM me and follow me for more!!💜

Yeah that's it for today guys!! I'll be now active and upload my pac every Sunday/Saturday!! Thanks for being here💕💜🌛🔆

#tarot cards #tarot pac #tarot reading #tarotcommunity #tarot #astroloji #tarotblr #astro posts #pick a card #pick a picture #pick a pile #pick one #tarot blog #tarot deck

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merotwst · 6 months

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IN DOCTOR'S OFFICE LIGHTING, I DIDN'T TELL YOU I WAS SCARED —- angst

‹. scarabia & pomefiore ›

. bulleted hcs

⇝you're very sick. how do they deal with it?

¬ tw: established relationship ; reader implied to be hosptally ridden type of ill ; hospitals, medicine etc. ; mentions of death but reader doesn't actually die in the fic ; lots of sadness ; dont read if ure uncomfy this is sad and i understand it's not for everyone ; open ended

۵ not proofread. we die like the dumb little bitches we are.

kalim al-asim ‹ scarabia ›

. when he first found out you were ill, his whole world stopped.

. how? why? what happened?

. were you two just not planning your future together on his bed one night just a few weeks ago? why are you here now on a hospital bed hooked up to things he didn't know what the names of were?

. all the questions swirled around his head but he would never ask them out loud.

. instead he would ask you different questions.

. “what do you feel like eating today? i'll order something!”, “what do you wanna watch together?”, “can i cuddle you tonight before i leave?”

. kalim never faltered in front of you. he was so excited to hear all about it when you come back from treatment, enthusiastically saying things like, “you look better already!” even if you know damn well you aren't but it's so sweet.

. he's always there on your bedside whenever he can be. always brings you something he thinks you'll love.

. hell, this man would bring in the best doctors just for you so please, please get better soon, kalim would do anything.

. every opportunity you have to get some time out of the hospital, he'll be there ready and planning a trip for the both of you (with doctor's approval, of course).

. he'll buy you anything you ask (or dont ask) for. because he believes you deserve everything. he wants you happy despite the cards you're dealt with and he will do everything in his power to do that.

. he's happiest whe he gets to take you out of the hospital for a while. if you can't find the opportunity to leave and he can't visit, you can expect lots of gifts and flowers sent to you and of course—jamil's cooking.

. he's so positive and hopeful and that just gives you strength. you'll never see him cry out of sadness. you'll never hear him say any negative thing even if it seems hopeless in your mind. he's your light at the end of the tunnel. he'll shine as bright as he can to light your path.

. you'll get better. you'll live a long, happy life with him. and even if he sometimes clutches his pillows at night and sobs silently onto his pillows after his latest visits to you, he knows you'll fight with him.

. and that's all he needs to know to wake up the next day with a new resolve to see you and cheer you on. he'll cheer you on till the sky falls and oceans dry and all he asks for you in return is to get better soon.

jamil viper ‹ scarabia ›

. the first thing this man says when he hears your diagnosis is “alright, let's get to work, ya hayati.”

. such a solid resolve. when you're breaking down, he's there. when you need anything, he'll do it for you. he doesn't leave your side and he understands that it's difficult and scary but the way he reassures you with such certainty makes you believe that it's only a matter of time before you're out.

. unlike kalim, he doesn't coddle you, but he's not harsh. he doesn't want to treat you differently because you're sick. he knows you're strong so he treats you just like he always has.

. of course, as stated earlier, if you ever needed comfort he's right there.

. you're one of the few things he'd leave kalim's side for. sure his schedule is busy, but everything else be damned he'll always, always make it a point to see you at least once a day.

. bringing food to you, singing to you—all the things he never did for others he did it on your bedside within the confines of these four walls in their sickening shade of white.

. he appears resilient, but jamil is only human.

. he wasn't given much growing up that he didn't need to share. one thing he had found that he felt he could truly call his... was you.

. and he would be lying of he said he wasn't scared. jamil was terrified deep down.

. but he hides it well with the lunchboxes he makes you and the way he squeezes your hands when you're asleep and the way he sneakily kisses you goodnight before he leaves you.

. you. the one thing the didn't think he would lose was at risk of disappearing from his life.

. he would come home with an ache in his heart. he's scared one day all he'd have left of you are some of your things in his drawers, photographs and memories of the happiest days of his life.

. and he'd sit down and stare at empty space, his mind cursing at the world for making him go through all this. for letting him have a taste of his own little freedom in your arms only to try and yank it back from him.

. but he wasn't going to let go. and he knows neither would you.

. and after those silent moments of anger, frustration and fear... he'd relax. and he'd smile because he remembers you're still here.

. then he'd get up and think of the next thing you'd want to eat again tomorrow, knowing and deep down, silently praying you'd still be on your bed with a warm smile and welcoming him back into your arms.

. his very own form of freedom.

vil schoenheit ‹ pomefiore ›

. just like jamil, he's not one to change the way he treats you whenever he hears the news.

. i feel like he may be more strict than jamil, though.

. after all, vil has a routine he's been following for years now. and as someone who's battling and recovering from an illness, he expects you to give it your 100% whenever possible.

. he knows it's difficult, but he also doesn't want to lose you.

. if ever sometimes you get frustrated or want to give up, you can rely on vil to get your sights straight again.

. although sometimes he'll come off as a bit harsh, please understand that he's just scared of losing you.

. he knows you can overcome this and he'll be there every step of the way to make sure you do.

. and of course, he rewards your hard work :3

. every milestone on your journey gets a prize. whether it be you enduring mildly tiring physical exercises or getting an operation for something—vil always makes sure to get you something nice.

. new clothes you'd like, things that you enjoy, food, sometimes even signed vynils from your favorite artists.

. sometimes, if you're lucky, something vil made himself. a meal, clothes he made for you personally etc.

. he'll tell you how proud he is and how beautiful you look despite everything.

. and then he gets soft and holds you close.

. and in the rare occason he gets to stay overnight beside you, you'll wake up in dead of night when he thinks you're asleep.

. there's soft sobs and his arms wrap around you a little tighter.

. and it's your turn to reassure him. because he's just as terrified as you are.

. and eventually for a few moments, it gets better knowing that you'll get better.

rook hunt ‹ pomefiore ›

. he's crushed. he's absolutely heartbroken.

. his beloved? his darling? the most beautiful person he's known to exist in his eyes... is suffering.

. he's going to talk to you. and explain that it hurts him to see you like this but he will never abandon you.

. every moment of every second, rook is there to hold your hand and kiss you and remind you of the many reasons to keep fighting.

. the gifts, the constant presence in your life, the words of affirmation—bros never leaving your side and that's a fact.

. and sure, he's a little dramatic at times, but that's just how he is. he never makes you feel bad, never makes you sad despite everything.

. even though it's hard for both of you, he never complained. sometimes he gets dramatic and curses the fates or something, but he never makes you feel bad about it.

. he never misses any moment with you. rook hunt is the definition of dedication and perseverance when it comes to your healing.

. he does so much and sometimes, you wake up after a long, comfortable sleep and you just see him beside your bed.

. he will never say it out lout and will never let it show but... you know he's tired, too.

. so for a few moments, you just let him rest. you squeeze his hand gently as he sleeps and you see just the faintest of smiles appear on his face.

. he's awake and you know it. but you humor him and let him have an excuse to let you hold his hand as he 'sleeps'.

. maybe when he wakes up again, you might be better, who knows?

. too good to be true? not for rook who genuinely believes that at any time, the doctors will come in to announce you're fully healed.

. but until that happens, he'll enjoy the feeling of your still warm hand in his and try to go back to sleep.

epel felmier ‹ pomefiore ›

. 'don't cry, don't cry, don't cry...'

. he mentally chanted to himself as tears streaked down his face when he heard the news.

. for all the tough guy act he likes to put out most of the time, he can't help but be soft when it comes to you.

. you didn't view him as anything but as the guy you fell in love with.

. not a pretty face, not a guy trying hard to come out as more manly (as much as he hated to admit it, so many other students saw him as exactly this), not some country kid with a weird accent whenever he gets mad or excited.

. you saw him as epel. your epel.

. and now your epel was a sobbing mess in front of you. he hates that he's crying, but this only shows how much he cares about you.

. you spend the first night exchanging reassurances and little promises with each other while hugging each other tight.

. while you were gettng your treatment, you've pretty much just about tried every single type of food and beverage that can be produced with the use of apples.

. boxes would come to your hospital room from his family and it's become a running joke between you whenever another box arrived.

. “an apple a day...”

. followed by little giggles you'd both share as he peeled one of them for you.

. epel didn't bring you over the top extravagant gifts, but he would visit you everyday and tell you all the fun things that happened and how he can't wait to experience them with you again.

. epel would cry. he'd cry at times when it feels low. and he'd cry when things started to look up.

. epel would tell you how scared he is of losing you. but he'd also tell you that he knows how hard you're fighting and how much he hopes to see you again outside the suffocating white walls of your hospital room.

. to see you under the summer sun, sitting on one of the branches of the apple trees in his hometown, laughing with your bare feet swinging while calling out his name.

. he'd have dreams like this sometimes and he'd wake up with tears in his eyes.

. he tries his best not to take it as a grim reminder—but a beacon of hope. a vision of what could be in the future.

. and with that in mind, he sleeps a little better. hanging onto dreams like this and praying they become something that would manifest in reality sooner rather than later.

•

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the-smut-analyst · 6 months

Text

Making Characters That Make Sense

Walk-through character template & "how to" guide for writing complex, original protagonists.

If you google "character templates for writing", you'll get a lot of very basic examples that read like a grocery list: eye colour, hair colour, skin colour, positive traits, negative traits, etc.

And sure, filling out this kind of template isn't completely useless - but it's also not particularly useful, either. Choosing whether your protagonist has blue eyes or green eyes isn't going to determine whether readers connect with them or not.

Instead, I prefer to use the below template:

There's some fairly left-of-centre categories here, so in this blog post I'll be creating a character from scratch to demonstrate what each section means and how to use the template effectively.

Primary Goal & Raison D'Être

Fantasy Romance is having a bit of a tournament-to-the-death moment right now, with Hunger Games-inspired stories like Fourth Wing, Throne of Glass, The Savior's Champion, and The Serpent and the Wings of Night in high demand - so that's what we're going to work with in today's blog post.

The story premise and primary goal of the protagonist are almost always interconnected. In this case, the story premise is a tournament to the death - and the character's main goal is to win that tournament, obviously.

But where there's room for some originality is in the raison d'être. This loosely translates to "reason for being" or "purpose". It's the why of it.

For example: what motivated this character to risk their life by entering such a tournament in the first place?

It is sometimes helpful to look at similar stories when thinking about this category. Not so you can copy their protagonist's motivations - but so you can do something different.

The whole selfless-self-sacrifice thing, for example - that's done. At least in relation to this particular sub-genre. We can do better for our hypothetical Maera Mystfang character.

Actually, let's really turn the trope on its head and make her raison d'être incredibly self-centred.

Already, this is character is shaping up to be something a little bit different within the niche of tournaments to the death. Which goes to show how putting a little bit of thought can go a long way, even with something as simple as identifying your character's initial purpose.

Primary Obstacle

Every protagonist needs a goal - and every goal needs an obstacle. This is what gives the story some tension and keeps readers turning the page.

An obvious choice of obstacle for this hypothetical character, since we're dealing with a fantasy romance, would be that Maera starts to develop feelings for one of her fellow competitors.

This concept has definitely been done, but that's okay. Not every section of this list has to break the mould. Tropes exist for a reason and it is totally okay to lean into them sometimes.

However, just for funsies, I'm going to try and put a slightly different spin on this one too.

Instead of the obvious "I love one of the people I'm meant to kill", let's make Maera's (previously dormant) conscience be the problem. Her reasons for entering the tournament may have been self-motivated, but as she gets to know her fellow competitors - admires some of them, even - she starts to second guess those reasons.

Core Traits

A lot of character templates will divide personality traits into positives and negatives - but I don't think this is particularly helpful. It is far too one dimensional - not to mention unrealistic. The key components of someone's personality aren't usually so black and white.

In fact, most core traits are both good and bad at the same time - it just depends on the context.

Instead of being wholly positive or negative, try to think of three core character traits that can serve as two sides of the same coin, with both positive and negative implications to each.

For Maera, I've given her these core traits:

Self-reliant;

Rebellious; and

Good-humoured.

Her self-reliance means that she is incredibly capable - but it's also the cause of her selfishness. She's always had to look after herself, so she expects others to do the same.

Her rebellious attitude means she isn't willing to accept the status quo. But at times she is also a rebel without a cause, causing trouble just for the fun of it.

Her good sense of humour means she is fun to be around, but she also tends to not take things as seriously as she should.

Thinking of core traits in this multi-faceted way not only adds realistic complexity, but it also sets you up well for showcasing character development and growth throughout the story.

Fatal Flaw & Character Arc / Growth

You've probably read negative reviews that throw around terms like "Mary Sue" or "Gary Stu". People tend to be over-zealous with these terms, especially for Mary Sue, but the gist of it is that the character in question is "too perfect".

They're the chosen one, they're good at everything, all the boys like them, etc.

Some characters can get away with this just fine. Look at Aragorn. He's the ultimate Gary Stu but I still swoon every time he opens those damn doors. You know the scene I'm talking about.

Ooft.

But for the most part, you want to incorporate a fatal flaw into your protagonists - because this is what gives them room to grow.

And, no. "I was born to be King but I don't wanna" does not count as a fatal flaw.

Instead, think bigger. Think worse. Think about where your character starts versus where you want them to end up. Think about how you want the events of the narrative to change their world view - or even their initial goal.

For Maera, her fatal flaw is pretty obvious, given her initial motivations for entering the tournament. Similarly, her growth/arc is linked to her primary obstacle, which is developing a conscious.

Her journey throughout this hypothetical story might be learning to appreciate how her past shaped her, while also acknowledging that there are things she can do to ensure others don't have to go through what she did. By being shown acts of kindness, she learns to appreciate their value.

First Impression

Now that we've covered all the "big picture" stuff, let's get into some of the smaller details that give your character some texture.

The first impression category is a hypothetical exercise where you image how your character might appear to a room full of strangers. In dual, multi, or omniscient POVs, you might even get the opportunity to include this impression somewhere in the story.

But even for first-person narratives, it is still worth thinking about, because it will help to inform how other characters interact and respond to your protagonist (at least at first).

For Maera, I've written this first impression as: a fun person to have a few drinks with - so long as you keep a close eye on your wallet.

From this description, we can guess that Maera probably likes to have a good time, but also comes across as untrustworthy. Whether that impression is deserved or not is up to you, as the author, to decide.

There's also a lot of deeper directions you can take this first impression category, too. Like if most people react to Maera this way, but one particular character doesn't, then your readers are going to sit up and pay extra attention during that interaction. Especially when that person reacting atypically is the future love interest.

Spirit Animal

Ah, this one is a fun one!

I always encourage my authors to assign a "spirit animal" to their characters - especially when they're doing multi-POV.

There are two main reasons for this:

It will allow you to assign some very distinct adjectives and verbs with that particular character; and

It is an opportunity to flesh out some additional character traits beyond the core traits.

For Maera, I've chosen "spider" because she is solitary by nature, opportunistic, and patient.

But, more than that, I also like the idea of Maera being the kind of person who knows how to watch and wait. While her first impression might be "here for the good times", her joking façade is actually a mask she wears while carefully observing others.

For example:

Her words were laced with venom. She crawled her way across the rooftop. At some point, weaving lies had become more of a past time that a necessity. Her thoughts were a tangled mess. She didn't bother to conceal her predatory gaze. Inch by cautious inch, she crept forward. Her sanity was already hanging by a thread. If there was one thing she knew how to do, it was spin a good story - truth be damned.

I've never outright compared Maera to a spider in these examples, nor have I made it blatantly obvious that that's what I'm doing. But by peppering these kinds or words throughout the story, I'll be able to subtly create a very distinct kind of impression for her character.

For comparison's sake, let's assign "cat" to the love interest. Examples of possible words to consider in this instance might be:

He clawed his way through the bushes. "What are you doing?" he hissed. The comment had some bite to it, that was for sure. He slunk away into the darkness. His still, unwavering focus was unnerving. He prowled towards her. In a few quick, agile steps, he'd made it across the parapet. He yawned and stretched out beside her.

Of course, not every single word you use in association with a character needs to be related to their spirit animal. But keeping a certain type of animal in mind - and finding opportunities to throw in some subtle messaging through language choice - can be beneficial on so many levels.

It helps to distinguish your characters from one another through the kind of language you use to describe them - but it's also just really, really fun way to add some bonus texture to your characters. Giving your readers some little easter eggs like this is never a bad thing.

Love Language

If you're unfamiliar with the concept of the five basic love languages, then here's a quick visual overview:

Love languages aren't a consideration that's specific to romance. They're important for friendships and familial relationships too.

Because thinking about what your protagonist values most in love is going to tell you a lot about who they are. Especially when you take the question deeper and think about why this is something they value.

For Maera, I've chosen "Acts of Service" because this ties in quite well to her character arc.

In terms of Maera's why, I could easily go with "because this was how she was shown love as a child" - and this is a good enough option most of the time. However, since her love language is very much tied into growing out of her fatal flaw, then I actually want to do the opposite.

Maera winds up valuing acts of service because this is something she craved - and wasn't given - as a child. She had to do things the hard way instead. Hence why she ends up appreciating the kindness of others so much. Such generosity is new to her - and precious.

Conflict Response

This is potentially one of the most overlooked character components. Conflict and tension is central to story telling, yet there is so little attention given to creating authentic, original responses to conflict.

The way I see it, there are three main considerations in regards to conflict response:

How your character reacts in the moment;

The unhealthy methods they use to deal with the aftermath; and

The healthy methods they use (or discover) to self-sooth.

When faced with conflict, Maera's immediate reaction is to antagonise. She doesn't like to back down and enjoys creating trouble.

However, in the aftermath, the conflict affects her more than she lets on. She stews on it - and her solution to that is to get drunk until she can forget about it completely.

But even though she sometimes forgets it, Maera has a more healthy coping mechanism at her disposal. When she is surrounded by nature - in the forest, by the sea, whatever - it calms her.

In addition to identifying your protagonist's various responses to conflict, it is also helpful to think about why. Again, this is a great opportunity to insert something unique into their character backstory.

With Maera, for example, let's think about why she finds nature so soothing. Perhaps, amidst a very bleak childhood, one of her fondest memories is of picking grapes in a vineyard.

Perhaps the elderly woman who owned the vineyard was very rude and abrupt - but also quite kind to Maera in her own way. Maybe she would sometimes stitch up Maera's clothes or feed Maera a hearty, meaty dinner - even though she didn't have to.

If you're struggling to think of a real, tangible, unique memory such as this - then it's always helpful to go back to the old classic of write what you know. Think of a real life moment or memory - something that's stuck with you, no matter how simple - then adapt it to your character.

To create this vineyard example, I simply drew on my experience of picking strawberries with my Nonna after school.

Mentor / Idol

I could write an entire thesis on mentors. Or, more specifically, the "death of the mentor" trope - both in its literal and metaphorical interpretations.

But, for the sake of brevity, let's save that sh*t for another time and focus on what's important for a basic (yet complex) character template. And that is:

The Formative Mentor (past); and

Transformative Mentor (present).

The formative mentor (or idol) is someone who influenced your character prior to the events of the novel. Sometimes they're a character the reader will meet, or other times, they're long gone before the novel even begins.

The transformative mentor is a much looser term. It doesn't necessarily have to be a traditional mentor character, but rather it is a character who heavily influences or changes your protagonist throughout the events of the novel.

For Maera, I want her earliest idol to be a random female sell-sword who she crossed paths with. Prior to meeting this sell-sword, Maera was living without hope for a future, surviving on scraps and petty crime.

But after seeing an independent and moderately wealthy sell-sword in her local tavern, Maera got a glimpse into the kind of life that might be possible if she learned to fight. With the right kind of skills, she might be able to earn some decent money for a change - and travel the world.

This is an example of how "mentors" don't always have to be a wise wizard who oversees your protagonist's training and education. Young minds are impressionable - and even distant figures can have a lasting impact.

Just look at all the women who cite Legally Blonde as the reason why they were drawn to law. Elle Woods wasn't even real - but for plenty of young girls, she made an impact.

Similarly, your protagonist's "present" mentor or idol doesn't necessarily have to be a wise wizard either. It can simply be someone who motivates them to change their world view or strive to be better.

In romance, it is more than acceptable to have the present mentor coincide with the love interest - especially in standalone enemies-to-lovers. I know this seems counter-intuitive, since the word "mentor" implies a power imbalance, but it makes more sense if you readjust your definition of mentor to be "inspires change".

However, for Maera, I kind of like the idea of pairing her up with a love interest who shares some of her flaws. I vibe with the idea of making him a bit self-interested too, although for different reasons.

So in her example, I've listed the present mentor as a selfless secondary character. The way I would envision this going is Maera and the love interest team up early on - but somewhere along the way a secondary character saves them both. They're both heavily influenced by this character before this character sacrifices themselves. The aftermath of this incident rattles both Maera and her love interest, and serves as the spark for growth.

I hope you found this template - and very long explanation - useful!

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whumpshaped · 6 months

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masterlist

tw vampire whumper, psychological whump, intimate whumper, forced comfort

"Whatever is the matter with you?"

Beck shrugged a little. He still barely even looked at Helle, let alone engaged in their banter. "I don't know. I'm sorry."

They gently took him by the chin, turning his head towards them so they'd be able to look him in the eye. They didn't seem concerned, just confused and annoyed. "Is it me? Am I the problem? Are my insults and mockery getting less... gutting?"

Beck thought he might be able to sense some semblance of care behind the joking tone, but he was too exhausted to pay too much attention. "No, that's definitely not it," he said honestly. "They're... they're definitely pretty gutting. I mean, if, if we're being honest here– they make me wanna cry half the time."

The vampire let go of him and leaned back, still fixing him with a suspicious look. "Okay. So... whatever is it, then? You barely react. Our of the two of us, you seem more dead."

"I'm tired, Helle," he admitted, and averted his eyes again. "I'm sorry. That's– I think that's just it. I'm so tired of being... afraid, and hurt, and angry. I just can't do it tonight. I bet that's very frustrating, since that seems like the only reason you even keep me around in this way instead of enthralling me and whisking me away to your mansion or whatever, but I just... I can't. I can't do it every night. I'm tired."

The silence that stretched between them wasn't a necessarily uncomfortable one. It was almost peaceful, contemplative. Beck used it to simply zone out and stare at the TV in front of him — despite the fact that it wasn't even turned on, and he was just looking at his reflection. Only his. And Helle? Helle used it to think about whatever the hell vampires thought about, when they weren't thinking about blood and torture. Maybe they were thinking about blood and torture. There was no way to know.

"I do keep you around for those tasty little emotions," they said eventually. "It is quite fun to see you react to whatever I am doing. But I think..." They grabbed him by the arm and pulled him closer, positioning him so that he was laid across the sofa with his head in their lap. "I do not have to pull from the negative ones all the time. Especially if they are a limited resource."

Beck would've lied if he said the situation didn't scare him. He felt numb, yes, but he wasn't dead. Or emotionless. His muscles still tensed up at having to navigate unfamiliar territory, and his breathing and pulse quickened. But he couldn't react in the way Helle wanted. He didn't have the energy to protest and beg.

They began gently petting his hair, like one might do with a cat. It felt... nice. It wasn't comforting, but it was objectively pleasant, and... Helle was right. It was different, and different made him feel.

"I could make the distinction differently," they murmured. "I could simply make your days bad and worse, have your brain switching between dread and more dread."

Oh, it was a foolish question, the one on the tip of his tongue; but it was a justified one. Should he risk it? Or should he keep quiet and enjoy the break?

He was never going to learn to keep his mouth shut.

"Why don't you?" he asked quietly.

The vampire scratched his scalp with sharp nails, and Beck once again felt like he was nothing but a pet. But it was so good. It felt so nice. He couldn't help but turn his head a little, lean into the touch, and even though he managed to stifle the pleased hum that threatened to breach his aura of indifference, the way he arched his back to be able to push against Helle's hand probably told them everything they wanted to know.

They smiled sweetly. "It is an odd thing, really. Sometimes I look at your adorable little face and I want nothing more than to ruin it with tears and bruises. And sometimes... sometimes I come here with that exact intent, and yet you manage to say or do something... and I just change my mind out of nowhere. Sometimes I want to see you like this."

"Like a dog."

"Like a happy dog. Relaxed, content, lazily wagging his little tail — wagging it specifically because I scratched him behind the ears." Beck felt his face heating up at the comparison, even though it was the same one he'd made a moment ago. It was different, coming from Helle. "But it does make me wonder... How would you react if I were to take it all away?"

Beck tensed again, waiting for them to do just that. For their fingers to tighten in his hair, for the claws to draw blood. For Helle's gentle expression to turn cold and cruel. He found himself desperately hoping it was merely a hypothetical.

"There it is," they whispered. "That fear. That uncertainty. That pleading look I treasure oh so much." They continued petting him, satisfied with how he was unable to relax at all now. "A little hope and kindness goes a long way, I suppose."

taglist: @whumpsday @the-scrapegoat @hidden-dreamland @dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night @delicateprincepaper @whumppmuhw @florissimps @nicolepascaline @oliversrarebooks @the-cyrulik @pirefyrelight @there-will-always-be-blood @pigeonwhumps @echo-goes-mmm @whumpycries @morning-star-whump

#at my beck and call #whump #whump writing #helle #beckett #vampire whumper #psychological whump #intimate whumper #forced comfort

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thelucyverse · 7 months

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Keep fandoms alive, comment on more fanfics!

The do‘s and don’ts of fic reviews

Because a friend told me she never knows what to write and then never comments, but wants to learn how to do better, I thought I’d compile a list, and maybe it will help someone else as well!

As always, this is unofficial and just from my personal experience writing and reading fic, and talking with other fic authors.

My posts on beta reading | ao3 bookmarks

What to comment

Honestly, authors love friendly comments, no matter how small. Here are some ideas for short comments you can write to pretty much any fic you enjoyed:

I loved it!

Great fic!

Thanks for writing this!

Thanks for sharing your fic with the fandom :)

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ 10/10 perfection

So happy I found this!

Reading this made my day

I had fun reading this

You’re a great writer!

Love your writing style

<3<3<3

Amazing!

Kudos!

If you want to write something a bit longer, you can for example

Tell the author where you have been reading the fic or what you were doing while reading it

Tell the author what you should have been doing instead of reading fanfic (and that it was worth it to read the fic)

Copy a passage (or several) from the fic you particularly enjoyed

Did the author write a note at the end or beginning of the fic? Maybe even ask a question? Sometimes you can reply to author’s notes in your comment

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If you really don’t know what to write, or are reading fic in a language not your own (though authors usually don’t mind you commenting in your native language) and aren’t comfortable commenting in either language, you can also leave emojis as comments, for example variations of:

for any fics:❤️💕💜💗💞💓💖💟🤩😍🥰

for humor fics: 😂😆🤣🤪💯

for shippy fics/getting together: 🎉💖🥳💋💘💏👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩👩‍❤️‍💋‍👨💑👩‍❤️‍👩👨‍❤️‍👨🫶

for angst or hurt no comort: 🥹😭🤯😱🫣😢💔❣️❤️‍🩹🖤 maybe still include a ❤️heart in there so the author can be sure you still liked it!

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There are even some stickers you can comment by copying the html! A few tumblr posts with stickers to copy can be found here & here!

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There isn’t much you can do wrong when writing comments on fic, but there are a few things you should keep in mind:

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don’t tell them what to write (unless the author is taking prompts, and in most cases the comment section is not the right place for prompts, check what the author specified)

Remember: Fan fiction are free, from fans for fans, so etiquette is a bit different than in the Amazon reviews of books you paid good money for! Fic authors don’t have to cater to you, just enjoy that there are fics shared with the fandom :) If you don’t like something, or don’t like a part of something, either close the tab or quietly ignore the issue and just enjoy the parts you do like.

And in general, to end this on a positive note:

Yes, you can comment on older fanfics!

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Yes, comment on as many chapters of the same fic as you like!

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Yes, please let the author know if you’re reading a fic for a second time, even if you just write ‘re-read kudos!’

The best comments are also written directly on the site the fanfiction got posted on (so usually ao3/ffnet and not tumblr/discord), both because it makes the note count higher, and because then the comment won’t quickly get buried under unrelated messages or posts.

If you want to leave long comments about different parts of a fic or chapter, you can also make use of the floating Ao3 comment box! It allows you to type your comment while you're still reading, without having to leave the page!

Some more kinds of comments on another post

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alkaline-wtr · 1 month

Text

ELEVATOR

Ghost x gn!reader

Description: Ghost and reader are neighbors who get stuck together in an elevator. Genre/Warnings: Ghost x reader, gn!reader, fluff, angst, a little hurt comfort, possibly enemies to lovers, imagine WC: 987

My Masterlist

**AN Good morning! Here's a little fluff, I don't exactly know if the genres I tagged it as fit, but either way i thought this piece was cute. Enjoy.

Ghost steps onto the elevator watching it close slowly, the doors are almost shut when he hears a voice.

"Wait!"

He peered through the two metal plates you come walking quickly down the hall.

Ghost lets out an irritated sigh realizing it's you.

You and Ghost were neighbors. Living on the same floor of the apartment building. For some reason, despite your efforts over the last year Ghost just didn't seem to like you. In fact, he despised you.

Ghost wasn't exactly sure what it was about you that made him dislike you so much. Maybe it was your intrusive nature.

You put your hand in between the doors causing them to retract.

"Good morning, Simon. How are you?"

You asked in a sweet voice as you stepped onto the elevator beside him.

"Fine."

Ghost grumbled in response. You smile back at him but there is a sadness in your eyes.

Ghost presses the button for the first floor. He is obviously in no mood for small talk.

The elevator begins its descent. A low hum emits from the fluorescent lights overhead. Filling the uncomfortable silence between you.

You're watching as the numbers go down when suddenly the elevator comes to a halt rumbling beneath your feet.

The first thought that comes to Ghost's mind is confusion. His hand reaches across you and taps the button a couple times.

You watch with wide eyes as Ghost fiddles with the buttons.

"We're not stuck, are we?"

Ghost's glares at you,

"Obviously." He snapped.

Normally the comment would have hurt you but all you felt at this moment was the rising panic at the realization of the situation.

Ghost sighs pulling out his phone. He immediately notices the absence of the little white bars on the top of the screen.

"No reception."

He states, holding his cell up in the air in an attempt to find a connection.

The pounding of your heart is like a drumbeat in your chest. The warm wave of the fear and adrenaline washing over you makes you feel disconnected. You don't hear Ghosts frustrated grunts.

You'd always had anxiety, and this was one of your biggest fears.

Ghost lowers his Phone and looks down to you.

"What?"

Ghost asks annoyed. Pure terror is apparent on your face.

"I-I just- This... has always been a fear of mine."

You stuttered.

His expression softens. Ghost was well aware of anxiety and the effects it can have.

"It'll be okay."

His attempts at reassuring you don't seem to work as your breathing grows shallower.

Instead of the usual irritation Ghost felt being in your presence, he felt sympathetic towards you. Understanding first-hand how you were feeling in this moment.

"I suffer from anxiety too sometimes."

His voice is soft, and you can see something in his eyes you never had before, vulnerability.

The momentary silence between you two is loud. Your eyes are locked with his before you finally speak.

"Simon?"

The words are soft. He looked at you expectantly.

"Why do you hate me so much?"

The whispered question hangs in the air. Ghost breathes out a sigh averting his eyes.

"I don't..."

He stops himself from answering and thinks. Ghost hadn't really had a reason. He just wasn't fond of you. His negative feelings were unjustified. As he thought back to all the previous interactions, he realized you'd never been anything but nice to him.

With the pain and hurt of his difficult past, He'd found it hard for him to tolerate your positive and bubbly attitude. He was hurting deep inside, and you only brought that to light.

The truth was you hadn't done anything wrong, Ghost just couldn't separate his feelings of frustration from his opinion of you.

"I owe you an apology, y/n. I've allowed my own frustrations to interfere with my behavior towards you. It is unfair, and you never deserved to bear the brunt of it."

You looked at him shocked by his words. Ghost didn't seem the type to apologize.

"Will you please forgive me?"

He asked. Ghost knew you had every right to turn him away. After the way he had treated you for so long, he didn't deserve your forgiveness.

As always you proved to be kindhearted with your generous response.

"Of course. We all have our struggles. I appreciate you being honest with me."

You smiled at him. Your smile seemed so genuine and pure.

"I know this may mean nothing but if I'm honest with you, I've always liked you."

Your admission takes Ghost by surprise. The truth of the matter was that you had feelings for Ghost for a while. By hanging around and being friendly you hoped he could eventually warm up to you. Although, it had all seemed stupid now, you should have just communicated.

Ghost searched your face for any indication of what you were thinking. He had no idea how to respond. So, he did the only thing that came to mind at the moment.

A rough hand grabs your cheek forcing you to face him. Ghost hovers his lips over yours for a moment a silent way of asking for your permission.

When you didn't pull away Ghost took that as an okay to continue. His plush lips brush against yours.

You stiffen in hesitation, unsure of your actions. This had been a moment you'd only dreamt of and now that it was happening you didn't want anything to mess it up.

Finally, you lean in, kissing him back. laughing nervously, when he pulls away.

"I almost forgot that we are stuck in an elevator."

You whisper. Ghost chuckles to himself and glances around

"Oh yeah. We aren't we."

He leans across you and presses the emergency call button. As you're waiting for Ghost to find a solution to the situation you can't help but smile to yourself feeling giddy and excited about what is to come.

#cod imagine #simon ghost riley #cod x reader #cod fanfic #ghost x reader #ghost fluff #cod fluff #ghost x reader fluff #hurt/comfort #ghost angst #alkaline writes

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comradekatara · 5 months

Note

Here's a completely random ask for you: what holiday (halloween, valentine's day, national ice cream day, etc.) would each member of the Gaang feel unreasonably strongly about? Can be positive or negative feelings.

oh this is a good question! (i hate so many american commercial holidays so this is a great avenue for me to project my frustrations with us capitalism onto these little guys. and to be clear im just doing us holidays bc otherwise there would simply be too many options and i’d be stuck here forever)

aang: he’s not enough of a hater to dislike any holidays. he’s a big fan of april fool’s day, valentine’s day, and halloween, because he appreciates fun and joy and love and merriment duh

katara: every thanksgiving she goes on an impassioned rant about the historical revisionism of the us empire deployed as a propaganda tool as it continues its genocidal imperialist project and the absolutely sick and twisted audacity of americans to celebrate a known lie in a mockery of the atrocities committed from the past into the present (this one may or may not just have been me, yesterday). every november-december she goes on an impassioned rant about the commercialism of christmas, and how it’s largely a fake holiday devised by capitalists to glorify the sanctity of the nuclear family, and how the supposed “secularization” of christmas is in fact a product of christian hegemony, it’s propaganda and you’re all falling for it because you crave hollow comforts in your cold and dismal life, and instead of attempting to look beyond the scraps you are given under capitalism you all just force yourselves to enjoy a facade of happiness and nostalgia because you refuse to admit that you’re fundamentally uncomfortable in your society!!!!!!!! (this is what i think but wisely refrain from saying because it’s not worth it. katara, however...) also she likes valentine’s day sometimes (depending on whether or not she has a boyfriend). she also has a lot to say on columbus day and the fourth of july of course, but this bullet point is already far too long.

sokka: his favorite holiday is pi day. he does not care for any other us holiday (but he has been known to enjoy a halloween here and there), but he specifically hates april fools because aang insists on pranking him every time, for some godforsaken reason. (he’s just so prankable!)

toph: her least favorite holiday is valentine’s day because it promotes m*rriage, one of her most hated institutions (it’s a long list). her favorite day is taco tuesday

zuko: he insists on celebrating shakespeare’s birth/deathday as if it is a real holiday that anyone actually cares about. and he gets offended when no one else cares. his least favorite holiday is the fourth of july, but not for any political reasons, it just has really bad vibes.

suki: she loves halloween because it has everything you could ever ask for in a single day: dressing in elaborate costume, eating so much candy, and getting really drunk. she’s also one of those people who gets really obnoxious on 4/20, at which point mai is like “you know it’s hitler’s birthday, right?” and immediately kills the vibe. just because she can :)

mai: she has a love/hate relationship with halloween, because theoretically it’s a celebration of the gothic, the liminal, the macabre, the ghostly. but in practice it’s just an excuse for everyone around her to get wasted. she hates christmas more though. santa freaks her out and cloying, forced cheer and merriment is unnerving and infuriating, actually.

ty lee: she dreads valentine’s day every year because she simply has too many suitors and it is very stressful. she likes april fool’s day because it gives her the opportunity to exercise her more devious inclinations. she can prank people so well they don’t even know they’re being pranked; on april first the world is her playground.

azula: she has no real opinion on any specific holidays. they’re petty distractions for mindless drones who require a modicum of frivolity here and there to spice up their otherwise dull, worthless lives. however, she quite likes tax day.

#bonus: yue’s favorite holiday is mid autumn festival <3 #lawful-chaos #asks #the gaang and #modern au #sorry for the katara rant in the middle of this post. it was thanksgiving yesterday. im hearing xmas music in stores. i couldn’t help myself #i should make a holiday tag #since a lot of these points are references to other similar posts ive made #okay:#holidays #if u go thru this tag you can find prev posts #instead of having to add bulky links to the post itself lmfao

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