#i'm not tagging every single person mentioned here but you get the picture

[owliellder]

The Finer Details

Post DI! Leon Kennedy x f! Painter Reader

MDNI 18+

(Session 1, Session 2, Session 3, Session 4, Session 5, The Reveal)

Description: Leon realizes that retirement is in his best interest now that he's getting older. All of his accomplishments as an agent mean he's truly earned a painting to commemorate..

Warnings: Not Proofread, Age gap! (reader is anywhere between mid-late 20's and Leon is 40), Porn w/ Plot, Use of she/her pronouns, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Alcoholism, mentions of trauma/PTSD/depression, P in V smut (wrap it NEOW), Leon cries during sex 💔

Tags: Older Leon Kennedy, Younger afab!Reader, Leon is SAD but he is your muse, Crying, mentions of Leon masturbating, starts off with Dom! Leon and Sub! Reader, falls into switch territory because that man needs some serious TLC, Praise kink, Hickeys, Handjob, Nipple play, Oral sex (m! and f! receiving), and a heavy dose of Aftercare

Author Note: I wanna say there's some pretty descriptive talk about depression in this chapter, just as a heads up. Anyways, it's my weekend and I'm going to be absolutely zooted every single day so the next chapter will most likely be out Monday morning PST lol.

Cross-posted on AO3

Session 3: Blocking In Color

It was nearly three weeks until you saw Leon again.

You tried to call him a couple days after he'd left that day, a few more times over the following week, but to no avail. The man was unreachable.

Even though you did your best to convince yourself that you just wanted to get his painting started, "It was an important one", you knew that you were really just worried about him.

You've seen this kind of dismay with the other retired agents that've had a portrait painted in the past, but they at least recognized what they'd been through.

Leon hasn't. You could just tell.

Looking over the sketches you made of his face, you couldn't help but wonder what exactly he'd been thinking about the last time he was here. He seemed so bothered, acting like he was hiding it so well, too.

Then again, you did drop a rather large bombshell on the guy while he was in a pretty vulnerable state, but you thought he knew what the portrait he was going to receive was suppose to mean. Again, most of the retired agents you'd seen were similar to Leon in that regard and even they at least had a basic grasp on the finality of it all. So why didn't he?

You nursed your bottom lip, still staring at the sketches laying in front of you while you sat at one of your desks in the corner. You normally don't come to your workspace unless you're actively painting, yet you'd shown up everyday in hopes Leon would randomly pop in. He seemed like the kind of guy to just kind of show up, anyways...

If you had just gotten a picture that day you've could've at least started working out the positioning for his portrait. Unfortunately, he wasn't in any position mentally to put up with anymore of your shenanigans at the time, it seemed.

You really did try your best to get ahold of Leon, eventually giving up a few days ago. You'd already emailed the President, who had been the one to personally commission you unlike with previous ex-agents, letting him know that it's going to be longer than expected. Thankfully he was understanding, knowing rather well how much the whole retirement thing was weighing on Leon.

You'll come back tomorrow and try again. Even the next day, and the day after that if you have to, and so on and so forth.

Guilty. That's all Leon felt right now.

He's been shelled up in his house since the moment he got home after leaving your building, withering away by the minute.

He hadn't showered, barely eaten, only ever really pulling himself from what little comfort his room offered to grab whatever bottle he touched first in the cabinet. Leon didn't care, just as long as it was something.

Chris had been over a couple times after he stopped responding to his messages, doing his best to get him out of the house. Claire had been over a few times more than her brother had, bringing groceries once she'd heard about the sad state Leon was keeping himself in.

It broke both their hearts, but they could only do so much for him. Leon was stubborn, head strong, he wasn't the kind to sway to many forces. He had somehow gaslit himself into thinking he was doing well. "Just peachy", even.

Clearly that wasn't the case, both Chris and Claire could see that. They'd have to be blind not to.

Having been in contact with Leon's government-assigned therapist, Chris tried to set up an at-home meeting for him one day. That turned out to be a disaster seeing as Leon was bordering on blackout drunk and could barely keep his eyes open. Not to mention the vomiting.

Claire even tried to bathe Leon. She only got far enough to wash his hair in his kitchen sink, using his vomit-covered mouth as an excuse to keep him over the sink long enough to shampoo his greasy, stringy hair.

All of it was weighing on him too much. He felt so guilty for making his friends feel like they had to babysit him, ignoring everyone's calls and messages, your calls and messages. That kind of thought process quickly spiraled into him reliving the worst days of his life, having to through suffer so many flashbacks and nightmares, not sleeping because of it. He rarely ever felt safe enough to get under the covers on his bed.

None of this is what he wanted. If it were up to him, he'd start all over; be twenty-one again, work as a cop, maybe get promoted a few times, find a girlfriend, start a family, have a normal life. Why couldn't he have that?

Staying awake night after night, Leon would stare at the ceiling in his bedroom and fantasize about the wonderful life he could've had, the happy memories he could've made. It would make him weep, longing for something that never could've been.

Instead, Leon was stuck with endless images of horror, death, and gore every time he blinked, and oh was he bitter about it all. So bitter, so angry, so...

Feeling sorry for himself was all he could do now. Sure, he killed all those monsters and zombies, saved all those people, not once did he think about himself through the years. Now he had all the time in the world to question and wonder, and having to think about himself and what he wanted most made him feel like a needy, greedy bastard.

But wasn't he allowed to be greedy, if only just a little? He had wants, needs, and though he wanted so desperately to change his past, he knew he couldn't. So, what did he want now? That, he didn't know.

Guilty for feeling this way, guilty for wanting different, guilty for wanting anything good for himself.

It took the better part of those two weeks for Leon to finally muster up some form of energy to stumble into his bathroom and shower one afternoon, dizzy and nauseous. The light emanating from the rest of his house was blinding, not having even bothered to close the shades he had on any of his windows. His room was kept a cave and that's where he stayed.

Leon now found himself sitting down in the shower just like before he'd decided to retire, only this time it was mostly to keep from slipping and dying. The last thing he needed anyone to see was him naked and dead in the shower. Embarrassing.

His thoughts at the moment were shallow, still pretty drunk from his bender, head lulling back and forth a bit as his vision spun. He was finally hungry again, the heat from the shower making that all the more obvious as he grew lightheaded, but he didn't know what he wanted.

After managing to actually crawl his way out of the shower, he dug through the pile of dirty laundry at the end of his bed, finding a pair of boxers that didn't smell too terrible to put on.

Leon used the wall heavily for support to walk out into his kitchen, muttering curses under his breath at just how bright it was. Opening his freezer, he stared at the meal prep containers left by Claire, grabbing one to attempt and read what she'd wrote on the sticky note attached to the lid.

That's right... She made him little meals, even putting them in the freezer so they didn't go bad as fast. All he had to do was put it in the microwave.

Simple enough, he could do that.

The one he chose was meatloaf and mashed potatoes. Just the sound of it had his stomach rumbling and his mind craving the comforting taste of a home cooked meal.

The first few bites in made Leon feel nauseous again, but once those bites hit his stomach the feeling immediately gave way to just how hungry he actually was.

He tried to pace himself, he really did try, yet he managed to devour the food in front of him in a matter of minutes, only pausing every few seconds to breathe. It felt so good, something warm in his stomach. Filling in all the right ways. Once he finished, he pushed the empty container away and just laid his head down sideways on the cool countertop, closing his eyes as he let the food settle.

As much as he wanted to degrade himself for acting this way, reducing himself to such a weird and pathetic state, Leon didn't have the mind to. All he knew right now was that the warmth that the meal Claire made him. Not to sound cliche, but he genuinely believed he could taste the love cooked into it.

For the first time in what was now two and a half weeks, Leon was awake and alert when Chris and Claire came over again. He'd eaten everything Claire made, holding all the now cleaned containers out to her. It was a silent plea for more, and lucky for Leon, she had just made another grocery trip for him.

Unbeknownst to him, Claire had been cooking here at his house. This entire time he thought she'd been bringing the meals over, assumed to be leftovers from cooking for her family. She did confess to hoping the smell of the food cooking would pull him from his room. It didn't, much to her dismay, but now she was just glad he was up and eating again.

As soon as Leon tried to apologize for dragging her away from her family, she was quick to shut him down with that mom stare she'd developed after having her kids. It worked, especially on him.

Chris was busy chatting up Leon while Claire cooked him another set of meals for the next week. It was hard to converse, but Leon did manage to nod and him as the other man talked about some random encounter he had the other day while out driving.

It was strange to feel so lively again. Those thoughts still clung to the back of his mind, though all he could focus on were his friends taking care of him like one of their own. Leon feels like he's been a terrible friend lately, seems as though the siblings standing in his kitchen didn't feel the same. He wasn't showing it, but Leon was definitely holding back a smile.

A couple hours had past, Chris opting to stay with Leon and eat lunch since Claire had to head back and help her husband with something.

The hug Claire gave Leon was phenomenal. After the hug he shared with you he's been craving that physical contact more than ever, so finally getting another good squeeze from a friend was boosting his mood.

Chris and him sat, ate, and talked about whatever came to mind, eventually asking about you.

"How's the painting coming along? Do you like the painter?" He smiled, looking at Leon with wide, curious eyes. That man always had a smile gracing his features.

Leon shrugged, taking a sip from the water he poured himself not too long ago. He was pretty dehydrated after solely drinking alcohol for the past couple weeks. "She's alright. Haven't started the painting yet."

Chris raised an eyebrow, placing his arms on the counter and crossed them as he leaned forward slightly. "Just 'alright'?" he emphasized the word "alright" with air quotes, which caused Leon to scoff.

"What else do you want me to say? I've seen her twice so far and its been fine." Leon lifted his hands up in confusion, palms facing the ceiling as he watched the man sitting next to him rolled his eyes dramatically. "C'mon, she was amazing for Claire and I- Okay, how about this..."

Chris repositioned himself so his entire upper body was facing him now, leaning in a little closer to ask another question. "Do you like the room she works in? Cause I thought it was pretty comfy. When she was focusing on Claire's part of the portrait, I took a nap over on that rug she had. All those pillows mixed with the classical music knocked me the fuck out."

He laughed, shaking his head at memory before looking over at Leon again. "So...? And don't lie to me, I saw that pillow on your couch."

Leon sucked on his teeth and hummed, glancing over his shoulder at his couch. "It's cozy, yeah." He brought his head back forward, patting his hands gently against the counter.

The two chatted for awhile longer before Chris eventually had to leave, giving Leon a firm pat on the shoulder while shaking him a bit. After he left, Leon was left to sit alone and think again, only difference now is he felt better. He was crazy tired, his social battery quickly drained from having his friends around, but he felt good nonetheless.

He wasn't ready at the time, yet after a sober night with solid sleep, Leon woke up the next morning and decided to just text you, hoping you weren't mad at him. Calling would've been too much at that moment, not even have listened to the voicemails you left, or anyone's, for that matter.

His chest felt tight after sending the text, but it was quickly eased about ten minutes later when you responded with nothing but enthusiasm. The smiley face you added at the end of your message made him smile, quickly wiping it away with his hand.

Your next session was arranged two days ahead of time in the late afternoon. Leon wanted to give himself enough time to recollect since he needed to look his best the following weeks. You told him it was time to start with the main painting, which you still needed a picture for.

During that time he finally shaved his stubble, went out and got his hair trimmed, tackled all the laundry he'd neglected, and got his best suit dry cleaned. All thoughts aside, he felt good and wanted to stay this way.

Needless to say, Leon was jittery when he pulled up to your workplace again. He was finally letting himself feel excited again about this painting. If it's anything close to what Chris and Claire's portrait is, then that excitement will only continue to grow the further along you get.

You were already there waiting for him at the door, a gentle smile on your face. That wonderful soft perfume that he missed reaching his nose once more as you lead him up the stairs and through the other door. Chris was right, if he had the opportunity, he'd take a nap on your rug. It looked mighty comfy.

Leon was thankful you didn't ask any questions on his whereabouts, he wasn't ready to talk. You were just as excited as he was about getting the painting started, if not more. Watching you eagerly move back and forth between the larger easel and your desks was a refreshing sight to the man.

You stood at your easel for a couple minutes, just silently looking from the blank canvas to where he was sat. You told him to get into a comfortable position, prompting him rest his right leg on his left knee, leaning back and to the side so he was sitting at a slight angle, arms resting on the chair's armrests.

You stared at him for a few seconds, tilting your head side to side with your eyes squinted. "Let me just-" you spoke in a hushed voice, walking over to Leon before cautiously reaching out to rest one hand on the underside on his chin while the other hovered over the side of his face.

You weren't an idiot, you knew what his absence was from. So you made sure to be careful with him, knowing he was probably still pretty fragile. Only gentle and cautious touches for Mr. Kennedy.

So close yet so far. His skin tingled in your hands wake, and god he hoped you couldn't notice his blush.

You could, but you wouldn't say anything. Besides, you weren't faring well yourself, hands a little shaky as you touched his face.

Leon just let you move his head to whatever position you wanted, his eyes now half-lidded as you had walked back a couple times to get just the right angle. You pulled away for a final time with a small "aha!" and he wished you would hold his head for just a little longer.

The floor where your easel sat was marked with an 'X' made with painter's tape, making it easy for you to stay in the right spot for the photo once you pushed the easel out of the way.

"Don't move." You held your hands up after analyzing his position, quickly hurrying over the corner opposite of your desks to grab a bulky camera that sat atop a tall tripod. You worked as fast as you could, knowing as long as you had a picture with him in this position then this whole process would go so much smoother.

You didn't even have to ask Leon to smile or look up at the camera since he was sitting there with a rather dopey smile, his eyes remaining trained right on yours. Nice and natural. He looked relaxed which is exactly what you wanted.

Just as a precaution, you took multiple pictures, giving him a thumbs up once you figured you'd gotten enough. His head back to rest on the chair at the okay, listening to the sound of you walk over to your laptop after untwisting the camera from the tripod. You printed out 3 copies of the photograph and taped one to a stand you had brought over to sit next to the easel, making sure it sat eye level to you.

The ball was finally rolling, now having what you needed to start with the main sketch. When Leon lifted his head up, he noticed that you were ready, sucking in a sharp breath through his nose while he shifted a little to get back in just the right position.

You twirled your pencil between your fingers before beginning to roughly sketch out the chair, eyebrows furrowing as you focused. Leon could see your expression, how intensely you zoned into your work. It was incredibly admirable and he found himself fully content in just watching you do your thing.

It didn't take long before you had sketched out his general shapes, now walking over to take the sketches you made of his face out of your sketchbook to clip up right next to the reference photo. The more finer details would be added later, but you wanted to get just the basic shapes of his face.

That didn't take long either, because before Leon knew it, you were telling him it was okay to talk. He was pretty animated with his hands when he talked, so you kept him quiet until now.

"Am I easy to draw?" Leon spoke with an almost sultry tone after a few seconds of you telling him he could speak. It threw you off only a bit, carding your fingers through your hair as you took one step back to look at what you had so far.

"I wanna say yes and no." You responded, catching his questioning look from the corner of your eye. "You're easy to sketch out, yes, but your hair is giving me trouble." You could hear a low chuckle rumble from his chest as you stepped back forward. "Hey, you asked." You laughed back.

"I know, I know." He shook his head with a poorly hidden grin, tilting his head down to try and hide it a little better. You immediately pointed your pencil at him, not taking your eyes off the canvas. "I said you could talk, not move." Your sarcastic tone made him chuckle again, slowly lifting his head back up with a sigh.

"Yes, ma'am." You could just hear the smirk in his words, causing you to let out a sigh of your own.

By the time the sun had started to set, you had blocked out all the simple colors for the painting. Right now, it just looked like a very bland and abstract painting. It'll come together, slowly but surely. Trust the process, as people say.

Leon was in awe already, having stood up to look at your progress as you washed your hands over in the small bathroom. Oil paints smeared something fierce and as much as you loved your job, you did not want feel oily at home.

"It already looks stunning." You heard the man say from where he stood in front of the easel. It wasn't quite registering in his brain that it was him on that canvas just yet, but hopefully soon it would.

He wanted to recognize himself in something as wonderful as your art.

[l0v3tast3]

AHH Hello!!! I absolutely love your writing, it’s so good!!!!

I was wondering…

Y/n always wear a mask to conceal her identity, in hopes the 141 doesn’t find out that Makarov is her father!!

141 had captured Makarov for interrogation, and y/n is there. As the interrogation continues, they start to notice that y/n and Makarov know each other, by the subtle little informality they spoke to one another. And the truth starts to come out, little by little!!!!

✎ tysm i love you :(( i absolutely love this idea the angst potential is just *chef's kiss* i'm sorry this one took like over a month to make oops, also i tried to keep personal details abt the reader as vague as possible, pls let me know if there's something i can fix!!

✎ tags: female reader, military reader, major daddy issues, violence, mentions of blood, hurt/barely any comfort if at all, not proofread im too cool for that,

✎ word count: 2,704

the silence in the cold, gray interrogation room was so thick that you were choking on it. you knew you had just fucked up, badly.

you had done so well so far, too. you're fabricated identity had fooled everyone. the name you had chosen stuck, and no one ever noticed your old one threatening to jump from your mouth when you introduced yourself. you always kept the childhood memories and little anecdotes vague. you stuck to your rehearsed lines better than a world-famous actor. you did every single thing right.

and now, here he was, your own blood, fucking it all up for you, again.

technically, he had made you fuck it up for yourself. it was just how makarov worked; he was a spider weaving a web in the corner, watching, waiting. this man, your supposed father, didn't know anything real about you. he didn't know you as a father should know his daughter. but he knew which buttons to press.

he only knew what to say to you when it would allow him the opportunity of watching you fall a little deeper towards rock bottom.

you knew that the room had cameras covering every square inch, and the microphones ensured that you're accidental admission to your heritage was heard by your entire task force.

there was a red hot pit opening inside of you, caving your insides in like a black hole and threatening to consume your entire being. it was rage, you realized. something you only ever seemed to feel in the presence of one person.

you briefly considered killing him, right there and then. was this really the straw that broke your back? it truly was just another thing to add to the list. you had known he would do this.

no, you were angry at yourself.

on the other side of the door, the four men of the 141 task force were all stood still in shock. what the hell did you just say?

none of them wanted to believe it. they especially didn't want to admit that it made sense. you had done a fucking fantastic job of hiding it, they'll admit that, but even you couldn't hide everything.

price saw the way you tensed when you were passed laswell's photo of makarov in the bar, after you had all put an end to hassan's plan. he saw the way you dropped it and slid it to the next person quickly, as if touching the picture had burned your fingertips.

soap had asked you if you were okay more than once during the plane ride to russia. you were so restless, so different from your usual grounded self. you just said you were having some flying anxiety. he felt stupid now for writing it off so easily.

and kyle, the first one to trust you (and to even really talk to you), he had seen the anger sparking off of you while you shot your way through the tower to get to makarov. floor after floor, bullet after bullet, you had paved a path of blood through the mercenaries. he wondered if someone else had taken your mask and gear and was pretending to be you.

simon saw the fear in you when you all got to the last door. you had been so quick in your endeavor to get here, but he saw you hesitate to follow them in. he saw how you never took your wide eyes off of him, and how you stayed a few steps back, moving far out of the way when price began to escort him out in handcuffs.

and when they had asked you to go into the interrogation room, they all saw how you stopped breathing, and the sweat collecting on what little skin they could see above your mask. you had stuttered when you quietly agreed.

when you stepped into the room, makarov took one look at your eyes, and you knew he recognized you. no, he recognized the hatred. and it made him smile.

now, sitting in the cold metal chair, you realized that it wasn't just one mistake, but a series of them; you had let him unravel you, again. you understood, finally, that he saw you as he did everyone else. he saw you as someone that held him back.

part of you had always known, ever since you were young, still single-digits, and he would only visit you once every few months, if that. you had elected to ignore it. now you couldn't.

you couldn't move. behind you was the door that would lead you to the consequences of your actions. in front of you was the reason for those actions.

this is what you had wanted, wasn't it? it was like something snapped back into place, and you suddenly remembered that everything you had done up until now, every time you put the mask on before leaving your room, every lie you had told and every person you had killed had been to get you here. in front of your father. you remembered that the image of him with a bullet between his eyes was what kept you going.

if you killed him, would it finally absolve you? the gun on your hip felt twenty pounds heavier now. your fingers, folded together in your lap with a white-knuckle grip, felt like lead. would this sin make all the other wrongs right?

a tiny voice was telling you to just walk away, let the team's wrath come down on you and let them deal with makarov, but you had already thrown the table between you towards the wall, he was already on the ground with your hands wrapped around his throat.

you were yelling, no, screaming at him. all the compacted feelings from years and years of being as quiet as possible came up like vomit, spewing out in a mess that could never be cleaned up.

there were more than just makarov's hands on you, pushing and pulling you away from him and dragging you out of the room, kicking and screeching to let you just finally kill him, while two other blurry shapes hauled him back into his own chair.

the heavy metal door shut behind the two people practically carrying you, and they finally let you go. you stumbled a few steps away, whirling around for the next target of your fury.

your captain and lieutenant were standing in front of you, both tensed, waiting for you to do something. you couldn't exactly make out their faces- were you crying?

"what in the bloody hell just happened in there?" price snarled. it was the voice he used when he was face to face with his enemy.

"let me back in there." it was a demand. you needed to kill him.

"that's not gonna happen," simon barked. john and kyle had come out from the interrogation room to stand behind the other two men. "you need to explain, now."

they all stared at you with varying looks of anger and hurt. it wasn't the first time you'd ever had it directed at you, but this was somehow worse than all the others.

every cell in your body was shrieking at you to just run for the door, to somehow get through all four of these men, your teammates, your friends, and kill makarov. but their glares glued you to your spot.

"please-" your voice was trembling, years of grief and agony dripping from every word, "please, just let me kill him. you have to let me kill him." you spoke slowly and quietly, focusing on just trying to get the words out. you took a shaky breath and focused your eyes on a muddy bootprint on the floor. you didn't want to see the looks on their faces.

"you don't understand, you just- just let me back in there, please, i'll get whatever you need out of him, but he needs to die!" your voice was getting louder, and you briefly wondered if your father could hear you. "his men are probably already on their way here. don't you get it? if i don't kill him now, he will get out."

the men in front of you were more shocked now than anything at the change in your demeanor. you had been coined the "second ghost" throughout the units, partly for the mask, but also because of your detachment. you were kind, but you always held logic above emotion.

in front of them now was nothing short of a nervous wreck.

despite not moving, you were frantic. you were wringing your hands together, pressed tight against your stomach. your eyes darted from side to side, person to person, between them and the door to makarov.

price took a step forward and you took a step back. he was slow, bringing his hand up as if he were approaching a wild animal. if he was still angry, he was hiding it now.

"come on, kid, let's just get out of 'ere, eh? go somewhere away from him," he said lowly. the other three men watched tensely, not moving, but their hands still close to their guns. just in case.

"no, no- just let me- price, you need to let me back in there!" you were a broken record, you knew it, but there was nothing else to say, nothing else you could think about. this was what you had been waiting for, you were right where you had wanted to be for the past- how many years now? how long has he tormented you for now?

you could feel your father's presence in the next room like bugs crawling across your body. it made your head feel fuzzy and your hands shake. was it from rage or fear? you couldn't tell, so you chose the rage.

it was like bile stuck in your throat, all the pain makarov had caused you finally being unearthed. you wanted to throw it all up and spit it out onto him, lay your organs and hatred alike out on the table in front of him so he could see the decay. you wanted him to rot from the inside out like you had.

your eyes glanced at the door one last time before focusing on price. he was watching you, just a couple of steps in front of you now.

"let me back in there, john." it was a whisper, but still the steadiest thing you had spoken since they had dragged you out.

"no." he said your name quietly, and you heard it as the plea it was, but you're head decided it was done listening.

your body threw itself at him, swinging underneath his arms and onto his back to try and get him on the ground. the room exploded into yelling, and multiple pairs of hands were on you in an instant, hauling you off of price and forcing you face-down onto the ground with your hands behind your back.

cold metal latching around your wrists didn't stop your screaming and kicking, lashing out at the air around you. it didn't work well, because you were being hauled back to your feet and pushed into a separate interrogation room.

whoever was carrying you didn't bother with trying to attach your handcuffs to the table, basically throwing you in and slamming the door shut before you could get back on your feet.

outside the cell, the four men stood in silent shock. what was there to say, where would they even start? would they really be able to hear each other over your muffled screams to let you out?

you didn't know how long you had been in there once the door finally opens again, but you had stopped screaming and struggling to get out of the room. you had sat down at the table, your hands folded in front of you on the cold surface. you stared down at the blood beading and smearing around the handcuffs.

kyle squeezed in through the tiny amount he'd let the door open before he shut it quickly, keeping his eyes on you. you didn't look up, your red eyes staying fixed on one point even as he slowly moved closer. he followed them to see the red rings underneath the steel, and a pang of guilt squeezed his heart tight.

he sat down across from you, folding his hands in front of him on the table, mirroring you. you still hadn't looked up at him, or done anything to acknowledge his presence; you hadn't even moved.

"are you alright?" kyle implored. he kept his voice soft, bending over a little to try to look you in the eye.

it took you a few moments to respond; he almost started to think you didn't hear him before you opened your mouth slowly.

"is he dead?" you croaked.

kyle let out an audible sigh while he leaned back in his seat, bringing his hands up to drag them down his face.

"no, we still need him. you know that."

you didn't say anything after that.

after sitting in silence for two full minutes, he spoke up. "you realize not telling us about this makes you look really bad, yeah?"

"you don't trust me anymore?" you whispered it, like you didn't want him to hear and answer. you knew what he would say.

"you aren't making it very easy."

kyle wanted to trust you still. part of him was angry and confused as to why you had kept something like this from them. the other part, the bigger part of him, knew that you were on still on the same side of it all. and he knew the other three men felt the same, but they couldn't just dismiss this.

"we can work this out, ya' know. you just have to be honest with us," he added after you once again stayed silent.

"be honest?" you echoed. you finally looked up at him. "about what? you heard me. makarov is my father. i want him dead. that's all there is to say."

kyle took his turn to not speak, weighing your words, figuring out where to go from there.

"why didn't you tell us?" he finally asked.

you looked back down at your wrists. "if i had told you i was makarov's daughter before i joined the team, then all i would have ever been is makarov's daughter." you paused to take a deep, shaky breath. it was uncomfortable with your mask still on, wet with tears, but you refused to take it off, to give away the last piece of your identity that was still yours at the moment.

"it's something we should have known," he contended quickly. "we could have used the information you have-"

you cut him off, your eyes snapping back up to glare daggers at him. "you think i know anything more than you?" you barked. something between a laugh and a sob escaped your throat before you could continue. "i was eight years old the last time i saw him in person. i was raised by live-in nannies. he only visited, what, maybe twice a year? and i don't know why he even bothered, either."

your hands were clenched into tight fists, and the same sting that circled your wrists was appearing in your palms. you kept going though; you didn't know if you could stop now.

"every time i get somewhere, every time i start making a life for myself again, he fucks it all up. never showed his damn face, but it was him, it was always-" you finally cut yourself off, not wanting to drag more memories out from the dark.

"makarov may be my father, but i am not his daughter. i swear, kyle, i fucking swear it." you were pleading with him to believe you now. you needed them to understand.

you could see it in the way his eyebrows creased that he wanted to take your words as the truth. but he didn't say anything (what could he have said?).

the door opened once again, and price half-entered the room to wave kyle back out. he avoided your gaze, something he'd never done before. then you were alone again.

[tarotwithdanise]

What qualities do you bring in a relationship?

1 - 2 - 3

SOURCE AND CREDITABLE : All of the pictures are collected and downloaded from pinterest , I don’t own any of them but credits goes to the rightful owners however edits goes and the reading itself belong to me. I use the editor tools canva and ibispaint for the header and divider. If saved/downloaded the divider use a proper credits and tag/mention along my acc @tarotwithdanise. Expect grammatical errors with this reading, bear with it because english isn't my mother tongue.

💌 check out my back-up account @danisetarot bio ; click the link, choose your favorite deals that you wanted to purchase and then send all of them to my email account (daniseallure@gmail.com)

PILE ONE

Right off the bat, you will bring harmony with this relationship. It's like you were the one who will balancing this relationship, I see that you will going to mirror each other most of the time. You maybe bring this possessiveness and jealously towards your partner when they're with others, well that's okay though and that's valid. Your love language is maybe act of service and physical - you were probably like helping them out with their garden or cleaning their house windows. Also, sitting alone in a couch just feeling each other or holding hands while waiting for sun to rise. There's a lot of things can be happening between the two of you when you are alone. As well, with the hermit card here this talks to me that you two prefer to have an alone time, like discussing about your future plans, getting to know each other more and etcetera to build a strong romantic relationship with them.

Your partner probably likes your jokes, you might be a jokester. You were type of individual who is happy as clam, you enjoy every moments you will have with them perhaps that you maybe someone who is likely resist of change? yeah change, you kinda afraid of changes. I see that almost of your all your cards talks about ‘stability and security’, so I'm not quite sure where this insecurities you have for this relationship come from? where your partner make sure to love and give you the best care as they can. It may not be perfect but atleast they're trying their best, maybe from your past? You are like all in one package, you will bring flaws and good points for this relationship to build stronger and longer as you can.

PILE TWO

The first thing I noticed with your traits is that you have this motherly nature, regardless to your gender. You also like to initiate the conversation with your partner, you probably nourish every romantic relationship you have or will going to have. You also like to explore things or other places, it's soothing for you. And maybe you may want to travel with your partner in every places, cities or countries someday. I do see here you like get aways, you and your partner will be like best buddies at the same time lovers.

They will learn many things from you and so they do too from you. While, if you are single currently you are ready to mingle or if not, you are open with any romantic connection. I also feel, you were type of individual and lover where you like to fit-in with your person standards, like you were trying your best to be your person ‘ideal type’ in reality. You will also make your person as whole and complete individual. You will make them the best person on the earth. I do feel here for this pile the first up until the last seconds, you will love your person is about strong and unconditional love. Like a beautiful flower growing, the more it's grows the pretty and blooming it is.

You probably thinking that every person that come on your way is important. You were also a fighter or maybe someone who is ready to fight who everyone that will try to come across with your relationship. You don't give a f*ck about will others people will says about your relationship you have with your partner. You are good at starting conversations, you are not afraid to tell what's in your mind ; someone who can be very honest. You are charismatic and nurturing person that makes your (every) partner to fall in love with you way deeper.

PILE THREE

This is somewhat a heavy spread. Okay, you maybe feeling unlucky when it comes to love and it seems like you are not yet ready to take risk and embrace change, you are waiting for change to come but you aren't taking the first step to continue your journey when it comes your relationship with others. You are not going with the flow as your Guides and Angels wanted you to do so, it seems like you are just sitting there and waiting for change to come. Changes when it comes to love won't come on your way if you are not taking any actions for it, the possibilities of you getting on a relationship keeps delaying and delaying by itself.

You not even trying yourself to keep learning, you are putting boundaries, restricting and trapping yourself in a cell of negativity which is stopping you to start a new beginnings. Well, about the qualities you bring in a relationship? You will be a great partner to them. Someone who is willing to give everything all of they have with their partner. Aside from that, you may have trust issues and lead a relationship like be a dominant. You prefer a partner who is under to you rather than you will be under to them in a good or bad way because that's depend on you. I also do see here that you are finding someone who is sharing the same interest, hobbies and mindset like yours.

© tarotwithdanise ── all rights reserved. do not copy, translate, alter, or repost my work in any other social media platforms with or without my explicit permission.

[jennay]

You were Wearing Converse

Request: Hey bestie! So I have an idea for a request and you can write it however you see fit (I trust you). Maybe reader is a new assistant for Bryan to help takes photos for the shows and Noah starts getting feelings as the tour progresses and gives reader little smiles and goofy faces when she’s taking pictures of him? Maybe it can lead to him getting the guts to ask reader out and they go on a date on an off day.

An: ok first of all I'm nervous. Second of all I love this and I hope you all enjoy. I had pictures for imagination of the photoshoot but the links weren't working 😭 thanks for bearing with me. If you want to be added to the tag list let me know.

Heres the picture of the duck drawing that was mentioned ( I don’t know who originally did it but I love them for it)

Noah Master List

Words are about 3600ish

"You've got to be kidding me." You sigh as you browse through the photos on your laptop.

Bryan leans over to see what you're looking at. He compares his shots with yours. He settles back on the couch and crosses his legs. "Do you think he's doing it on purpose?" He wonders, his eyes studying the image of Noah making a face at you. "He never pulls that crap in my photos."

You keep scrolling, hoping for a decent one. "Every single one." You exclaim, getting frustrated. "This guy."

Bryan chuckles and shuts his laptop. "Damn it, Noah."

You shake your head and smile despite yourself. "If he does this tonight, I'm done." You joke. "I'm just walking off stage, and that's the end for me." You stand up, setting the laptop on the table of the tour bus. "I'm gonna go talk to him about it."

Bryan's eyebrow raises as he watches you head to the door. "Please be good. I don't want to fire you. We've done so good together on this tour, and if you piss Noah off, I'm gonna end up firing you!"

You swing the door open, smirking at Brian, "I'll be me…and we'll see how that goes. It's been nice working with you, just in case." You joke, "I'll wait till the show's over tonight...maybe that's a better idea." You sigh, "I guess I can stay and check the rest of these pictures and see if there's at least something good from the other three."

That night, you felt adrenaline coursing through your veins as you followed the boys on the stage with your camera, capturing their every move as they rocked to the music.

The crowd was roaring, the lights were flashing, and the sound was deafening. You loved every second of it. You crouched low, zoomed in, and angled your shots to get the best views of them.

You moved swiftly and skillfully, dodging the wires and the fans. You made your way to Noah, standing at the edge of the stage, singing passionately. His voice was raw and powerful, sending shivers down your spine.

You snapped a picture of him, and he looked up at you with a grin. He flashed you the cheesiest smile he could manage, showing his teeth. His eyes sparkled with mischief and joy. You couldn't help but smile back at him, feeling a warm flutter in your chest.

Noah fucking Sebastian was a different person when you were behind the lens. He put on a show for Bryan's pictures, acting tough and cool. He flipped him off, smirked at him, and glared at him with dark eyes. He wanted to look badass for the photos, fans, and image. He played the role of the rebellious rock star perfectly.

But when it came to you, he let his guard down. He was more relaxed and silly. He made faces, winked at you, and stuck his tongue out. He didn't care about looking perfect for you. He just wanted to make you laugh. Half of your pictures were too goofy or blurry to be used for Bryan's Instagram posts or the Bad Omen's official account. But you didn't mind. You cherished those moments of genuine connection with him.

You shook your head, moving out of the way and to Jolly's corner. You could usually get pictures of him without any sass. He was more serious and focused than Noah, but he still had his charm. That was until tonight.

Tonight, he seemed to be in a playful mood as well. He joined Noah in making funny faces and gestures at you, trying to distract you from your work.

You looked across the stage to Bryan, who motioned for you to come closer to him. He had a smirk on his face that told you he had something planned. You wondered what he was up to.

Your eyes met Jolly's again, and you got the perfect shot of him and Noah standing beside each other. They looked like brothers in arms, ready to take on the world with their music. The only downfall? Their tongues were out of their mouth once again.

They looked like two kids having fun, not two grown men performing for thousands of people.

"Fuckers." You muttered as you jogged over to Bryan.

He pointed to Folio, and you nodded without asking questions; you knew Bryan would test your theory. He stayed closer to Noah and Jolly while you stayed near the drummer and bassist, snapping some of the best pictures you've taken the whole tour.

When you turned around, Noah was standing somewhat beside you. He winked in your direction, making your heart skip a beat. You felt entranced by him as he walked closer to you, melting with each smile he gave you. You took that as an opportunity to snap a few pictures of him up close.

For once, he cooperated and gave a fierce look that matched his voice and attitude on stage.

In the pit of your stomach, you felt a weird fear like Noah suddenly turned into a fire demon, brown eyes now black as he danced around the flames. His back faced you as he gave deathly growls into the mic, sending chills down your spine.

As the night ended, you felt better knowing you had a few shots that Bryan could use for his social media posts and promotions. You could save these for your portfolio and some personal memories of this fantastic night with Noah and the rest of the band.

You smile as you watch Noah address the crowd of people who have gathered to see the show. He thanks them for their support and tells them how much he loves them.

The house lights flip on as he and the rest of the band walk off the stage, leaving behind a trail of cheers and applause. You and Bryan are waiting for them at the back, ready to pack up and head to the next city.

Noah quickly walks over to you, his face glistening with sweat and his chest heaving with breaths. He still has that adrenaline rush in his veins, making him look more alive than ever.

"What did you think?" He asks you, smirking as if he already knows the answer.

"I think I'm happy you finally let me get some good shots and let me do my job." You say, playfully pushing his chest with your camera. "You're kind of a pain in the ass, you know that?" You tease him back.

Noah laughs, pushing his hair out of his face with his hand. His brown eyes sparkle with mischief and charm. "So I've heard." He says, leaning closer to you.

You can smell his cologne mixed with his sweat and feel a flutter in your stomach.

You want to be mad at him, but you can't. You've only known him and the band for this tour, but you feel a good connection with them. They're honest and genuine, unlike other artists you've worked with. They don't live off the drama of the industry; they just love making music and sharing it with their fans. And Noah... he's something else.

He's talented, charismatic, funny, and sweet. He always makes you laugh or blush with his jokes and compliments. He's also incredibly handsome, with messy hair, a stubbled chin, and muscular tattoed arms. You've caught yourself staring at him more than once and noticed him doing the same.

You give him one last smile before turning around to leave. You have a lot of work to do before the next show, and you don't want to keep him from his friends or fans.

"See ya later, Noah." You say over your shoulder.

As you turn around, you feel a gentle tug on your wrist, stopping you from moving forward.

"Wait," Noah calls out.

You turn around again, looking up at him with curious eyes. What could he possibly want? You wonder.

"Go out with me tomorrow." He stammers out anxiously, his eyes darting around the room. His face flushes with a deep crimson as he realizes what he just said. He looks at you with a hopeful expression, waiting for your answer.

Your eyes widen with surprise, your mouth dropping open. He was flirtatious with you, but you thought that was part of his charming personality.

You never expected him to ask you out on a date. "Me?" You gasp in disbelief, pointing at yourself. "No." You nervously laugh, covering your mouth with your hand. Your eyes widen even more when you realize what you said and quickly correct yourself. "I mean, yes. Sorry." You laugh again, feeling awkward and embarrassed. "I'm tired. I'm gonna go now. I'll see you tomorrow." You say, holding your camera close to your chest and rushing away from him.

You were getting bored waiting for Noah to return. He wasn't late, but you were growing impatient, wondering what he had planned for the night. You had been on tour with him for a while now, and you were looking forward to spending some quality time together.

You looked around the room, trying to find something to do. Your eyes landed on a little yellow duck beside a Sharpie on the coffee table. You had an idea, one that might keep you entertained till Noah got back.

You sat on the couch inside the tour bus with your legs up to your chest, drawing on what you assumed was a toy duck a fan had probably thrown to one of the guys. You wanted to make it look as much like Noah as possible. You swiped on some scribbles for hair and his tattoos. You didn't consider yourself an artist, but you felt like it would get the point across.

As you drew, you thought about all the fun times you had shared with Noah. You remembered the first time you met him and how he had made you laugh with his silly jokes. You thought about all the adventures you had been on together and how much he meant to you.

You hear the bus door open and footsteps closer to you before Noah stands before you. "Whatchya got there?" He asks while pointing to the duck.

"Oh," you laugh, "I was just drawing." You set the Sharpie down and toss the small rubber duck to Noah.

He chuckles, turning the duck around to observe all the markings. "Is this supposed to be me?" he holds the duck up to his face and smiles softly. "Pretty much twins."

You both laugh as Noah sits down beside you on the couch. "Have you been waiting long?"

"No, I just got here a few minutes ago. Long enough to do my art project." you smile brightly. "So what's the plan, Romeo?"

"Well," he drapes his arm over your shoulder, "Matt's letting us use his rental for the night. I signed up for a cooking class, so there's the food part. Anything you want to do?"

You shrug. "I'm bringing my camera," you say, pointing to the table. "Maybe a little photo shoot is in order because with all the bullshit photos you've given me…. I deserve at least that." You giggle.

He nods knowingly, "OK, but I get to take some of you too. It's only fair."

You roll your eyes at him, "I don't know about that. Maybe if you're lucky, should we head out or?" You stand up, looking down at your casual clothing. "Am I dressed appropriately?"

Noah leans forward, a smile on his face. "If you aren't dressed appropriately, then I sure as fuck need to change."

You shake your head and let out a giggle. "You look good. You always do."

He stands up and follows you to the door, "Stop it." He blushes and tries to hide his face in his sweater. "Let's get out of here."

The drive to the cooking class wasn't awkward like you thought it would be. You spent a significant amount of time laughing and giggling like normal. Noah let you choose the music that surprised you, mainly because he made fun of everything you listened to. He listened with a smile, promising he wouldn't criticize your singing voice. He encouraged you to dance with him and act like an idiot.

As you both arrived at the cooking class, you felt a sense of excitement and anticipation. You were both eager to learn something new and have fun together. Noah was the perfect partner for this adventure.

He was charming, witty, and always knew how to make you laugh.

Throughout the class, you worked together, chopping vegetables, stirring sauces, and tasting each other's creations.

Debating which was better, you swore it was his, but he denied it, claiming yours was better. You were the more experienced one, after all.

You were thrilled to get your chance to shine finally. You had been waiting for this moment for so long. Photos. Photos that he promised you as compensation for all the crappy shots he forced you to take on stage.

"Oh, I see. You just want to keep a collection of my photos to stare at when I'm not around." He jokes as he follows you down the street.

"I want photos to show that I'm a damn good photographer and I didn't waste a year taking lousy photos of the lead singer," you retort, chuckling. "Come on." You gesture to the dim alleyway.

Noah stays close behind you and rests against the brick wall. His eyes drift to your side, and his jaw drops slightly. "A cat." He points under the fire escape, and instantly, you lose his focus.

You observe as he approaches the cat, making some sounds to attract its attention, and the cat seems fearless, allowing Noah to lift it without any mistrust of humans.

You grin as you witness the two, who have hit it off right away. "How did you-" You hoist the camera and capture a quick shot of Noah and the cat he names Layla. "I can't believe it just let you snuggle up. Noah, you're like a fairy tale hero." You tease, clicking another photo, this time nearer to the two.

Noah smiles from ear to ear, petting the cat. He inches closer to you, leaning in; he lets you pet his new pal. "She's adorable."

You reach out gingerly, "How do you know it's a she, could be a he, maybe it's Leo, not Layla…" You joke while peeking at him, smiling and concealing the grin that wants to show.

"He or she…is very adorable." He corrects himself, making the adorable part sound ironic. "OK, Snow White. It's getting dark can we get a few more shots?"

He looks at you with sandness, letting the cat down. He walks to the brick wall next to you and gazes at you with curious eyes, "Here?" He says, halting in front of the area of the building that has red and green vines crawling across the walls.

You nod, looking while raising your camera. "Take your sweater off." You say, squatting down.

"Trying to undress me now?" He chuckles but follows your request and flings his sweater at you.

"Noah!" You gasp as the sweater softly lands on your face. "You almost made me drop my camera." You fling the sweater over your shoulder, catching a whiff of his cologne. You back away a little, pressing the button to take the photos. "You're really loyal to the band, huh?" You point to his shirt that displays his band logo.

"Always loyal." He mockingly rolls his eyes, "It's not like I have a lot of options, y/n." He turns his head as if to spot something on the far horizon, and you seize this chance to snap a few more photos. He looks intense, and this man claims he doesn't have good angles; what a joke that was.

Suddenly, you hear a loud siren and see flashing lights bouncing off the walls.

A police car pulls up next to the alleyway, and a cop steps out. "Hey! What’re you doing here?" He shouts, walking towards you.

You freeze in panic, clutching your camera. Maybe the alleyway was a little suspicious at this time of night.

"We're just taking some photos, officer. Nothing illegal." He says, trying to sound calm.

The cop looks at you suspiciously, then at the cat under the fire escape. "Is that your cat?" He asks, pointing at it.

You and Noah exchange a glance, then shake your heads. "No, sir. We just found it here. It's very friendly." You say, hoping he won't ask any more questions.

The cop nods, then looks at your camera. “What do you got there?”

Noah steps in front of you as if he knows what will happen next and feels the desire to protect you from something happening to you. "We're not doing anything wrong here, right?" He questions.

The cop frowns, then looks at Noah's shirt. "Are you in a band?" He asks curiously.

Noah nods, smiling slightly. "Yes, sir. I'm the lead singer of Bad Omens."

The cop's eyes widen in recognition. "Bad Omens? My daughter is a huge fan of yours. She has posters of you guys all over her room." He says enthusiastically.

Noah laughs nervously, then looks at you. You smile back at him, feeling relieved.

The cop seems to have forgotten about the photos and the cat. He pulls out his phone and shows you a picture of his daughter holding an album of Bad Omen's from 2016. "Can I get an autograph for her? She would be so happy." He asks eagerly.

Noah agrees and signs his name on a piece of paper, writing a nice message, "Thanks for being a fan otherwise your dad might have arrested me."

The cop laughs at what he's written and thanks him profusely. "You two have a good night. And be careful around here." He says kindly, then gets back in his car and drives away.

You and Noah let out a sigh of relief, then burst into laughter. You can't believe what just happened.

You look at him with a mix of admiration and disbelief. "What the hell just happened?" You whisper, your voice is still shaky from the adrenaline rush. "That was…I don't even know what to say. That was insane."

Noah's eyes are wide with shock. He grabs your hand and pulls you out of the dark alley, away from the scene of your mischief. "Let's get out of here." He says, his voice urgent.

You nod wordlessly, following his lead as he walks quickly to the car. You feel his hand warm and firm in yours, and you squeeze it for comfort. "Noah?" You murmur, looking up at him.

He turns his head to you with a gentle smile, his eyes softening. "What's up?"

"You're holding my hand…" You point out, lifting your linked fingers. You feel a flutter in your stomach as you see him blush.

He clears his throat, "Oh, right, sorry. Do you mind?" He asks, looking nervous.

You shake your head, "No, it's sweet…" You say, smiling back at him. You spot a bench near the lake and point to it. "But I think we need to talk about this and what it means." You say, feeling serious.

He nods and follows you to the bench, sitting close to you. He wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you closer. "OK," He says, crossing his legs casually. "Let's talk." He says, grinning at you.

You take a deep breath, "Well, what happens after the tour ends? We live in different states and I travel for work just like you do for different musicians. I'm never in one place." You say, feeling worried.

He sighs heavily, "I've been thinking about this before I asked you out… How about you become a full-time member of the crew? You and Bryan are amazing and you don't disrupt our show. You do your work and you don't cause any trouble." He says, sounding hopeful.

He tilts his head to gaze into your eyes, anxiety flashing in his. He waits anxiously as you press your lips together and nod. "OK, well, I love that idea but, I have anxiety and I need to know this is realistic with us living in different states." You say, feeling uncertain.

He shrugs, "I think we can make it work if we really care. We can communicate and see each other. It's not hopeless." He says, sounding confident. "I've thought about this since the first time I met you." He admits.

"You don't remember the first time you met me! Lies." You giggle.

He smirks as he stares you in the eyes. "You were wearing converse and that cute ass summer dress. You came in to the studio and I almost had a heart attack."

You look at him with a shy smile, feeling your cheeks heat up. He leans in slowly, his eyes locked on yours. He brushes his lips against yours softly and gently. You close your eyes and kiss him back, feeling a spark in your heart. He wraps his arms around you and deepens the kiss, making you melt in his embrace. You run your fingers through his hair and pull him closer. He breaks the kiss and rests his forehead against yours.

"I really like you, Noah." You say, feeling happy. "But I'm terrified."

He smiles and kisses your nose. "I really like you too." He says, "I'm terrified, but at least we can feel like this together." He teases. "We'll make it work. I have a good feeling about it."

You snuggle with him on the bench allowing his arms to wrap around you and watch the stars twinkle on the lake. You decide to follow your heart and see what happens. In the long run, you knew this would be worth it. Noah was worth it.

Tags: @thisbicc @yumikitten @lma1986 @chemicallady @a-villain-vying-for-attention

[arwainian]

The F@tT Fic Marathon: Catching up finally.

🎉I have officially read the full Friends at the Table AO3 tag!🎉

My very silly quest has reached its technical end point after EXACTLY 10 months of intensive reading! It has been sometimes grueling, often delightful, and led to me developing intense opinions in directions i never thought possible to myself. But I have done it, and I am extremely pleased with myself.

To get some housekeeping out the way, I usually give recs upon a writeup, but since there were only three fics left for me to read i'm just gonna shout them out generally.

Fics 1981-1983

check out i'm too scared to say half of the things i do (when i picture you) by waltztangocache for partizan era Kal'mera Broun fantasizing about Valence and trying to keep from letting that slip through their telepathic bond

and if you like Christmas fic, fangirl_squee has got you covered with Fero "not liking Christmas" but being roped into it anyway, and the Bluff City Masks crew hunting down some Christmas mini-miracles

and like, if you're looking for something to read, remember every single writeup has come with at least one personal recommendation. it's all under the tag #fatt fic marathon (also a caveat that these recommendations come from my personal tastes, i might not have mentioned a fic during the marathon that's a favorite of yours and i hope you continue to deeply enjoy what you love even when it might not have hit where I would have liked)

if you would like to take a look at the massive spreadsheet I used to keep track of which fics I was set to read together, as well as other info like what season it was for, and word count, here is a link to it!

What next?

First of all, I'm gonna spend a good long time reading other things. I've accumulated a great big To-Be-Read pile of pleasure reading consisting of both real-ass books and other fanfic that have been put at a lower priority while I powered through this project. I have had fun, but it is high time for a Break to read and do other stuff for a bit. (*glances nervously at my unstarted secsam project*)

If you happen to like my thoughts about what I'm reading, this past year I tried to keep track with reading log posts. They got stripped down to the basics over the course of the year and Finals Season sorta took it out of me so there's nothing for the past couple weeks BUT. i like reading a lot and i like talking about it a lot. so that's all tagged as #cal reading log if you want to keep up with me and my reading

and, what shall happen to these writeups! I'm not interested in continuing these in perpetuity, but I may give a final send off one when the tag hits 2000 (i'm still deciding). otherwise, this is likely the end of them. I might still shout out inidivudual cool fics that get published as I read them, but that's just like, good fandom practice to spread around cool fanworks tbh, rather than this weird thing I've done. nonetheless, i hope y'all had fun watching this journey

and a final thank you to all of the lovely authors who have made fanfic writing their hobby and have chosen to share what they write with others. Thank you! it is extremely obvious that I could not have done this if they never put pen to page or fingertip to keyboard and did the dang thing in the first place. you've made some cool stuff and i like reading it.

Happy New Year Everyone!

[wildlife4life]

Fuck-it Friday

Tagged several times before I even woke up! Haha. But thank you to these lovelies for the tags. @prince-buck-diaz, @bekkachaos, @thewolvesof1998, @heartbeatdiaz, @ebdaydreamer, and @transbuck

I think we all know what I'm about to drop, but also with the fun surprise of a fake instagram post! I'm getting nifty! So here it is, another snippet of NFL Buck and Firefighter Eddie secret relationship.

Chimney wasn’t trying to stalk Eddie on social media because it’s kind hard to when that person’s internet presence is almost non-existent. His twitter was practically tweet free, just retweets, mostly from WeRateDogs.  His Facebook profile was just about the same, with the most recent original post being about moving to Los Angeles. Instagram was a dead end, private and Eddie had yet to accept his follower request.

How the hell was Chimney supposed to find out anything about this mysterious boyfriend of Eddie’s? All he knew was that he made good money, had a sister, and worked out at some fancy gym. He needed to know more!

Chimney was just about to give up, then two weeks after the request, Eddie finally accepted.  The paramedic went on the deepest dive he could, clicking through post after post, noting most of his page were pictures of Christopher, a couple of group shots with his Houston firehouse, a handful of photos with who Chimney assumed were members of his family, including the once mentioned sisters, and a single picture of Eddie with two other paramedics in front of an ambulance for Austin, Texas.

It was the second to last picture though, that finally gave Chimney a lead.   

The photo was almost artistic in a sense, with the Longhorn’s stadium at field level, lit up by the lights with a beautiful Texas sunset in the background. It had 10 likes, and two comments.  One from his former paramedic captain Tommy Vega and the other, a single emoji from an account Chimney saw had liked every photo Eddie had posted. Buck4life.

The page was private, with a profile picture of a beautiful dog with a black coat, which looked a little familiar.  He had 10 followers but followed 100 plus.  Another dead end.

He clicks on tommy_vega_126, digs a bit there, and finds that she follows and is followed by Buck4life.  So, Eddie’s previous captain knows this ‘Buck’, who is most likely the mysterious boyfriend. Because who else besides family would like every photo and family doesn’t leave a cryptic, yet loving emoji on a photo that is reflecting on emotional beginnings.

Chimney’s conclusion: Buck4life was the boyfriend and they met during Eddie’s time working the Longhorn games. That boyfriend has a dog, which meant Eddie has a dog, and Chimney is really curious how that man comes into work without a single trace of dog fur on him.  Hen would definitely like to know.  Even since rescuing Pasiley, she has come in with some part of her civilian clothes and uniform decorated with white fur and she puts up a minor fuss about it every time.

He needed to find his best friend and present his new findings.

See nifty! And yes, they will have a dog, who is based off of Oliver Stark's own, Jade. Alright I hope you all enjoyed and if you want to see the other post from this wip, just click on the nfl tag on my page, they should all come up.

Tagging (sorry if already tagged and/or posted! No pressure!): @elvensorceress @911onabc @shortsighted-owl @thekristen999 @lizzybizzyzzz @cowboy-buddie @911-on-abc

[we-were-so-beautiful]

2. day six

holy shit hi! it's me! I'm back! I will be very surprised if anybody remembers me or this story given that it's been literally six months since I posted the first chapter. my motivation, interest, energy and amount of free time for this project all fluctuate, but... this story feels like it wants to be told, and I want to tell it. so hopefully I'll manage to pop up around here with an update for it every once in a while.

Content warnings for this chapter: box boy universe, pet whump, dehumanization, cages, blood mention. I'm still getting the hang of how to tag these so please let me know if there's anything I missed.

[masterlist] [chapter one] [chapter three]

Vanessa means to wait until an hour before closing time to go to the shelter. Really, she does. She wants to give this guy as much of a chance as he can get to go home with someone, literally anyone, who’s better for him than she is. But it’s lunchtime and she’s already practically vibrating. She’s not even used to being awake by noon anymore, much less having already been up for hours refreshing the site so often it’s making her nauseous. Or maybe that’s just the all-consuming anxiety of suspense.

What if the assholes at the shelter decide that six days is close enough, and take him away before she even gets there? What if she’s fucked up and counted the days wrong, and he’s actually scheduled to die today? What if the subway’s delayed, or the shelter closes early, and she’s too late, and another person dies because she made a stupid fucking mistake?

What if, says the voice in the back of her head that she refuses to listen to, somebody takes him who’s even worse for him than me?

“Oh, fuck literally all of this,” she says to the empty room, and grabs her coat.

—

“Uh, hey, I’m here to…”

“Sign in on the sheet.” The bored-looking shelter employee doesn’t so much as glance up from her phone. Vanessa looks around; the lobby is totally devoid of anyone save for the two of them.

“I just want to know if—”

“Sign in on the sheet.”

Vanessa breathes out through her nose until her hand stops ticking long enough to write. She scribbles her name and the time, and sets the pen down with a deliberate clack on the desk directly in front of the employee.

The woman barely raises her head. “How can I help you.”

Vanessa steels herself. “Is, uh… Do you still have…” God she hates talking about people like this she hates it she hates it she hates it. “Is pet number 414374 still here? I want to…” She wants to choke on the word. “...I want to adopt him.”

The employee’s affect goes duller than ever. “Oh, he’s still here, alright,” she mutters grimly.

Vanessa only realizes how much tension she’s been holding when it floods out of her so fast she almost loses her balance. “Can I see him?”

“If you really want to,” the employee sighs. “But I’m tellin’ you, lady, you’re not gonna like what you find.”

—

“That’s him?!”

“Told you you were gonna be disappointed, lady.”

Vanessa gapes. It’s not like she’s been expecting to be okay with seeing people in cages, but she sure as shit didn’t expect… whatever the fuck she’s looking at now.

The dude is filthy, caked head to toe in blood, dirt and worse. The hair that flowed around him in his picture is matted down his back now, littered with scores of dead and decaying leaves. His ice-blue eyes are dull and unfocused. His breaths are quick and shallow, and the way they rasp in his throat makes Vanessa twitch. 

He’s lying in a heap on the single layer of newspaper between him and the inch-wide mesh of the shelter-standard cage. Vanessa sucks at math, but she thinks it can’t be more than three by three by five. The shelter profile listed him at six foot two.

The employee bangs on the metal with the back of her hand, making a horrible clanging sound that makes Vanessa want to claw her own ears off. “Hey, look alive, refurb. You got one more interested owner. Maybe try to impress this one for a change?”

“Can he even—” Vanessa starts, but the guy surprises her by slowly, painfully lifting his head. The dirt that coats his skin cracks and flakes as he struggles to push himself up on his elbows. He reaches jerkily for the front of the cage, arms trembling violently with the effort, his breathing growing more and more labored as he tries to meet her gaze.

In the split second before he collapses again, she swears he manages it.

—

“I want him.”

The employee has already turned to go, talking over her shoulder as she ambles back toward the desk. “Yeah, so if you're lookin’ for a fancy one you could try the Manhattan shelter, they sometimes—hang on, you what?” She twists back abruptly as the words actually register.

“I want him,” Vanessa says again.

The employee stares at her for a long, long minute. Vanessa can almost see her fighting the urge to blurt out, “why?” Finally, though, she collects herself, with a wildly overexaggerated shrug of her shoulders.

“It’s your money, lady,” she says, and unlocks the cage.

[phantomspiderr]

New Year

Pairing: Marc Spector x gn!reader

Word Count: 2.5k+

Summary: Layla invites you to her New Year's Eve party where you get the chance to meet her ex-husband

Warnings/Tags: mentions of drinking and partying, kind of want drunk Layla around now, Marc maybe being just a little creepy, he really doesn't know how to act around people sometimes, fireworks are mentioned too, again no real mentions of readers appearance or gender(I tried to use they/them so it's a little more neutral), Steven gets a lil mention, a little swearing too. As always if I've missed anything please let me know!

a/n: Thank you, thank you all so so so much for making this year better. If you're a casual follower of my very infrequent posting or this is the first time you've come across my work, I thank you. Being able to express myself in this way has been freeing, and stressful but I'm glad I could bring any amount of joy to even one person. Thank you for every like and every reblog and every comment. I wish you all the best for this new year, may it come with happiness and joy and hopefully more really good fanfiction to read. Sending you all a little bit of love🤍

･☆: *.☽ .* :☆

Music blares throughout the flat as you weave around the people littered through the hallway. Parties definitely aren’t your favourite place to be but for your friend, you’d do anything she asked, plus it’s New Year's Eve so you thought why not. You may not have recognised a single person since you’d arrived but this is fun, this is what you’re supposed to do at your age right? Before you have any more time to fret a squeal sounds from behind you, your name quickly following, “you came!” When you turn Layla is quickly coming towards you with her arms wide open, a few people looking in your direction now because of the noise. You only manage to squeak out a hi before you’re encompassed by Layla, her arms tight around your shoulders, the force of her body against yours knocking the wind out of you. She pulls back only a little to cup your face in her hands, “I’m really glad you’re here.” You can tell by the tint of red on her cheeks she’s already a few drinks down which apparently makes her a bit more affectionate.

“Layla!” A small group of people enters the room immediately drawing the attention of the beautiful host to them, her hands dropping down to yours and she squeals again. Quickly turning back to you for just a moment, “I’ll come find you later! Have fun! Enjoy!” And just like that, she’s off running to greet more of her friends.

You wander around the decently sized flat for a while after that, finding a drink in the makeshift bar set up in the kitchen along the way, briefly chatting to a few people around, and then of course you find yourself a quiet corner. Looking amongst shelves filled with treasures and memories of Layla’s many adventures, she’d told you stories over casual lunches, even invited you on her next one. Still, even after being friends for very nearly a year, there’s still so much mystery that follows her everywhere she goes. You eventually come across a picture of someone you recognise, Layla’s father, the one person she was more than fond of talking about. She’d told you many, many tales about her father, about all the places he’d been, the things he’d discovered, and about how she wanted to be just like him. You admire the picture in its intricate gold frame, a small pendant hangs on a chain over the top of the frame, something you’re sure is a treasured possession. Your hand moves upward, fingers extending to the pendant just to get a better look at it-

“I wouldn’t touch that if I were you,” your hand retreats to your chest so quickly you almost knock the drink out of your other hand. The person who spoke much too close for your liking, and then the chuckle that follows your gasp is short-lived as you turn to the source of the warning. You’re met with an incredibly good-looking man, his hair loosely slicked back and an amused smirk gracing his really handsome features. If he hadn’t just creepily snuck up on you you’d maybe be interested in talking to him and your expression clearly shows that when you turn back around in hopes he’ll just disappear. He doesn’t. “Sorry, it’s just that she’d be devastated if that went missing.”

“I wasn’t going to steal it.” You snap a little too harshly but then again you think he’s insinuating you’d steal from your friend. You’re increasingly becoming more frustrated the longer he stands over your shoulder, his presence is too much for you.

“I didn’t say you were. I’ve met a lot of thieves, you’re definitely not built for that.” You’re annoyed now, scowling at this complete stranger when you turn back around.

“And what is that supposed to mean?” Just as the man opens his mouth to reply Layla appears again, her arm hooking around your waist to pull you closer and your face instantly changes, smiling at your ever-so-happy friend. Your own arm wrapping around her, glad for the interruption, she scrunches her nose as you exchange cute little hi’s.

“Are you having fun?” The people pleaser in you manages to get out an 'mhmm' and force a fake smile, not that Layla would notice right now. You’ve only seen her in this state maybe a handful of times, she’s less observant and much more carefree. Your eyes flicker back to the stranger still lurking across from you, Layla only now registering his presence, “ahh Marc! You met Marc!”

Marc? That’s Marc?!

Layla had told you all about Marc and even tried to set you up with her ex-husband. What kind of friend tries to set you up with their ex-husband? That is exactly what you’d said to her before changing the subject, every time she tried to bring it up. You’d somehow managed to miss every opportunity to meet most of Layla’s other friends, lots of them living in different countries and only coming to visit for short periods of time but you knew Marc had lived here and you’d personally avoided trying to meet him, not wanting to make things awkward. You knew Layla’s type for partners, they were all extremely good-looking and in your opinion way out of your league and you just didn't feel like having another unrequited crush.

“This is the husband?!” You finally manage to get out with confusion etching your features as you look between the pair.

“Ex! Ex-husband!” Marc is a little too quick to correct. You’re sure you hear a ‘smooth’ and when you look at Layla she’s grinning. Marc only gives her a grumpy look before quickly excusing himself from the conversation.

“Soooooooo,” Layla draws out as she turns to face you, her hands slipping into your free one, “what did you think?”

“Of Marc?” Your face scrunches, to which Layla just scoffs, “you didn’t tell me he was a creep.” She scoffs again, this time giggling a little.

Layla leans in as if to whisper, she even has the audacity to lift her hand to the side of her mouth but the alcohol in her system inhibits her from being able to lower her volume, “he’s just nervous to be around you. He gets weird like that around people he likes!”

“Excuse me?!” You go wide-eyed, did you hear her right? But of course, before she gets a chance to reply someone calls her name, and her head whips around, your conversation was completely forgotten to her now.

“Oh, come on they're playing beer pong!” Layla tugs at your hand, a disappointed pout appearing when you shake your head and begin to decline, “please, please, please.” She begs in the way she knows you can’t say no to and so you let her drag you toward the kitchen, still thinking about the short conversation you'd just had.

-

It’s almost midnight when you stumble out of the kitchen, many games of beer pong down and an even drunker Layla staying behind to do shots. Drunk Layla has exactly no inhibitions and is definitely more affectionate than normal Layla. Now you’re in need of some fresh air, all of the laughter and closeness in the kitchen is proving a bit much for you. Luckily you can see no one has made it out to the little makeshift balcony so you awkwardly climb through the window. Once outside you feel like you’re able to breathe again, you truly hadn’t realised how stuffy it had been inside. You manage to take in a deep breath before the cold hits you hard, and your body immediately reacts. Your arms wrap around your body, hands rubbing along the tops of your arms to create some warmth.

“It's cold out.” You jump again at unexpectedly hearing Marc’s voice, turning on your heels thinking he’s behind you only for no one to be there. “Up here,” you look up to the side when he talks again, there he is perched on top of an old chimney, giving you a shy wave.

“You know you have the whole creepy stalker thing down,” you speak half-heartedly but still he chuckles.

“Hey, you came to me this time.” He raises his eyebrow and shrugs his shoulders.

“You are the one sitting alone like some bird on the rooftop,” your arms fold over your chest now and Marc mumbles something you don’t quite hear before he effortlessly slides off of the chimney and casually walks down the slight incline of the roof like he’s done it a hundred times before.

“I’m not really one for parties,” you watch as he shrugs off his thin jacket, leaving him in just a t-shirt and you wonder how he isn’t freezing out here and why he's even taking his jacket off, to begin with. “Y’know it’s December, you really shouldn’t go out without a jacket,” he holds the material out to you which your confusion-clouded brain takes. Then he turns away to lean his elbows down on the balcony railing, looking out onto the lively streets of London. You feel yourself soften a little, maybe you were a bit quick to judge him and brand him a creep.

“Me too,” you pull the jacket on and join him next to the railing, watching people in nearby streets celebrating.

“So, how come you’re here?” Marc twists his head to the side so he can just look at you.

“Layla,” Marc hums in agreement, “said she’d disown me if I didn’t.” That makes Marc laugh which turns out to be a pleasant sound when you don’t think he’s trying to be some kind of perv.

“Sounds like something she’d do.”

“She didn’t actually say that, it was more like,” you think for a second, preparing yourself for your best Layla impression “‘please you always miss my parties, I want everyone to meet you!’” Your hands had somehow gripped onto his bicep in the process, exactly how you remembered the conversation with Layla going.

It all makes Marc laugh again, “that sounded nothing like her!”

“Eh, close enough,” you lean your elbows against the railing, mirroring Marc’s stance now. The balcony is so small that you have no choice but to stand a little too close to him. There’s a little pause, Marc’s laughter dying out but the sound of the party still flowing through the window. “So, how come you’re here?” You nudge your shoulder against his arm to draw his attention.

“Uh, something similar.” Suddenly he’s acting a little hostile, his body goes more rigid and his expression hardens a little. Then there’s an awkward silence and you just try to focus on some passersby on the street below. “She was a bit more like ‘please! I want you there and you need to leave the house. Plus I know you want to meet a certain person and I promise to make sure they’re there!’” You lock eyes together for a quiet moment before both bursting into laughter.

“That was terrible!” You choke out between laughs and before Marc has time to reply, loud calls draw your attention away. Everyone inside seems to have crowded around all facing the tv and all shouting along with the countdown appearing on the screen.

“Hey look out right over there, between that gap in the buildings.” Marc points out off to the side, stealing your attention back and you look hard for what he’s trying to point out. You can only see the hue of light coming from buildings and street lamps, nothing else.

“There’s nothing-“

“Just wait,” you look at him confused for a moment but his eyes are transfixed on the horizon and you can just hear him whispering along with the loud countdown coming from inside.

3…2…1…

The sky explodes into colour in front of your very eyes. Fireworks light up the night sky, far enough away that the bangs aren’t too loud but the view is still spectacular. You can hear cheers all around, from inside Layla’s flat to the pubs down the street. Marc’s face glows with the colours in the sky and he’s smiling while he watches the fireworks. He almost looks childlike like this, like he’s never experienced it before and he’s captivating.

“Happy New Year then.” Marc straightens suddenly, catching you completely off guard, almost like he’d just snapped back into his body and he just holds his hand out toward you. Slowly you raise your own hand into his, replying with a simple, “happy new year.” You both shake hands, probably the weirdest way someone has ever wished you a happy new year.

“Oh come on!” You both turn to see Layla on the other side of the window, the look on her face one of exasperation, and her eyes lock with Marc’s, “if you don’t kiss them now then I will!” Immediately you snap your head back around to look out at London, trying desperately to hide the flustered look you’re sure is showing on your face right now. Sober Layla definitely isn’t that forward.

Just for a second Marc’s accent changes as he starts spitting out apologises on your friend's behalf, "I-no-we don’t have to-" he pauses for a second as if he’s centering himself, takes a deep breath, and talks in his normal voice again. “I think I’m just going to go sober her up a bit.”

“Yeah good idea,” you try to suppress the laugh at Layla’s disagreement to be sober and the way she runs off to hide as Marc tries and fails to catch her arm before she can disappear. He lets out a big sigh before climbing back in the window, leaving you to your own devices for just a second before his head pops back out the window.

“Don’t- uh, don’t leave yet okay?” His face contorts a little like he doesn’t know what to do with it before he gives you an awkward smile.

“Okay,” you chuckle out, immediately pausing when he smacks his head off of the half-open window, "oh-oh my- are you-"

“‘m fine, it’s fine.” He holds onto the back of his head, eyes shut real tight for just a second and he just awkwardly turns away and back around, lifting his hand almost like to wave before dropping it again, "okay I’m just-" he turns and walks away. You move to stick your head through the window into the flat just to make sure he’s okay and you only just hear him mutter, “for fucks sake Steven.” Steven?

You retreat back out of the window and only then do you realise you’re still wearing his jacket. Quickly you peer back into the flat to try to catch him, “Marc-“ your eyes scan across the room, “and you’re gone.” You sigh before moving away from the window again, surely him asking you not to leave meant he wanted to see you again, or something like that, right?

You pull your focus away from your thoughts, instead looking back out at the night sky. It’s rare to see any stars in the London sky but littered around are little white dots accompanying a beautiful half-moon. Maybe this year wouldn’t be so bad after all.

[kaisacobra]

Thank you for saying that it really means a lot, I actually used to write fan-fiction a couple years back and I’ve recently tried to start again but I’m very critical of what I write and how I write it so I’m incapable of producing a single chapter.

Keep it mysterious, I’ll be eagerly awaiting whatever you gift us ✨

Now that you mention it, yes I completely understand what you mean about R not being able to be extremely cold to Tara. R seems like the type of person who’d be hurt and disappointed, someone who wouldn’t necessarily be cold to Tara but would definitely hide from her. For R I’d imagine it’d be an internal battle of what she wants versus what she deserves, we already get a feel for that in the first chapter but it was easier for her to choose what she wants- which is to provide whatever comfort and happiness Tara wants because she loves her so much over what she deserves- someone who cares about her in a consistent manner and not only when it’s convenient (boo Tara😡). After Tara’s outburst I think R would have to force herself in every way possible to really process that she can’t put Tara’s needs above her own anymore, as much as she loves Tara doing that would reinforce the notion that everything Tara said is true. We know she always runs back but now that’s she’s been ridiculed for it she can’t.

The way she’s always there for Tara makes me wonder about her background. Maybe this is TMI, but I personally have experienced many relationships like this in the past. My father abandoned my sister and I at a very young age, so part of the reason I would always be there for them and never left first even when I should’ve but wouldn’t- was because I never wanted them to feel as unloved and unworthy as I did when my father left me. By the time I was a teenager I’d already forgiven him for all the abuse my family endured because of him, in my heart nobody could ever hurt me the way he hurt me- so I’d forgive them even though the people around me would expressively tell me not to, you know? But im older now and I stand my ground, i can leave when if its what’s best for me and not get too caught up in what’s best for them.

I’m from California by the way! It’s 10:30PM right now, you’re from Brazil though? That’s so cool! Did you grow up there? My parents were born in Mexico but they moved to USA in the late 1980’s, I wanna move to Mexico and live there for a couple years because my mother loves and talks about her hometown so much, the idea of seeing where she grew up in person and picturing her as a little girl warms my heart.

- ☘️ (I’m gonna use this as my anon tag from now on)

I feel like everyone is gonna be critical when it comes to their own stuff, like, I'm not kidding when I said i thought second best wasn't that good, specially because I used to be an essay tutor/monitor at school and my writing had to be more than perfect. Just remember that usually you're gonna be more critical of your work than other people and it doesn't mean that what you write is actually bad.

I'm so sorry that happened to you and I'm glad that you can stand your ground now!💪 I know this will sound oddly ironic but all the background information I have on R is about... Tara. In my head, R is divided by past (beginning of friendship, woodsboro), present (the current mess) and future (what's gonna happen) so, in a way, maybe her life is all about Tara😔

I don't think R's family are gonna make an appearance so I'll leave it up for you guys to hc whatever you want as R's reason for being so attached to Tara.

California seems so nice! And yeah, i grew up here and i wouldn't have it any other way🤭 Maybe this happens to everyone in their own home country but i just love my culture and history so much, I can't imagine living anywhere else.

Mexico sounds super cool! I've been wanting to go there, specially in 2026 because of the world cup (really wanted to see it live) but i dont think it's gonna happen😔 Either way it's a beautiful country i wanna visit someday and i definitely have to start improving my spanish.

[santaswiftie]

Attention 🚨 Signal Boost!

There's only 1 day left to join! We are +100 already and I'm so excited! But I keep thinking that there's probably many of you who never got to see this, and it's such a pity cause I'm not sure if I'll be able to make this again next year :( I'll sum it up and pin this one.

Santaswiftie is created to unite the fandom and give a little shoutout to blogs after the Ticketmaster chaos. This is not a content creators event! The only requirement to enter is that you're a TS related blog (either you create content, are a TS blog or a multifandom/personal but you reblog TS often or you interact with other swifties)

Here's how it works / answered questions.

You don't need to make gifs/graphics. Not even if you're a creator! This can also be a chance for you to try something different.

Even the smallest thing counts! Like handwriting the username and taking a picture. You can find Gifts ideas here.

It doesn't matter what your religion is or if you haven't any! Acts of love are universal and you can make someone smile, especially if they're going through a rough time.

You have time to make your gift until January 6th! But you MUST enter before this Friday, a follow from me will confirm you're in.

If you said no before, you can still join in! And if you're in but you won't be able to make anything, please tell me and I'll remove you because once I close the list you must to stick to it. If you don't send me the gift, not even a small note, your blog won't get a gift (I'm also participating and making other stuff so I won't be able to cover you).

Please share! You can reblog this even if you aren't participating, I won't be sending more asks so if you want to join, let me know in the notes/tags/ask or mentions. If I don't follow you it means you're not in list, so make sure of it! — Thanks to every single one who took part on this, it's so lovely of you and this is going to be so much fun, I guarantee you that! Happy Swiftmas!! 💝🎅

[ventiffy]

𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝒶𝓁𝓁𝒾𝒶𝓃𝒸𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝒷𝑜𝓊𝓃𝒹𝓈 𝓊𝓈 𝓉𝑜𝑔𝑒𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓇 ♡ PT.4

EHEH *cries* GUESS WHO GOT THEIR *beep* PERIOD.... MEE! *cries again* ANYWAYS HERE IS pt.4 OF I FORGOT, jk, "The alliance that bounds us together"

FOR NEW PEOPLE, YES IF YOU HAVEN'T READ THE TAGS NOR SEEN THE HEADER (picture above).THIS. IS. A. DOTTORE FIC BC I LOVE HIM UGGH.. before any Dottore hater comes in my replies saying I shouldn't write these fics since they ship the reader with a HORRIBLE person... go away. Your comment doesn't compete with my love for him ever since his unhinged little self came into the manga. I read the manga before playing the game and so basically ever since I started playing genshin, even though he never appeared in game he was my fav character (AND I KNOW HIS LORE, IVE READ EVERY SINGLE ARTICLE THAT REVEALS SOME OF HIS LORE, I KNOW EVERYTHING ABOUT HIM)--(plus my post don't appear when at your home page so u either 1 follow me or looked at the tags so, you asked to see something like this- RANT OVER -

WARNINGS: should've put this for the last one BUT Dottore is named as "Zandik", mention of Pantalone (This shouldn't be a warning, just that I'm not going to put Pantalone in the tags cuz, this fic isn't about him so like why should I do that? MENTION OF TORTURE... NOT IN THE WAY YOU WOULD THINK THOUGH- READER IS AGED UP, SCHOOL = SOMETHING LIKE UNIVERSITY IDK- NOT PROOFREAD FOR NOW BECAUSE IM IN TOO MUCH PAIN, mention of the word : heck and hell

Summary: Just look at the part plz, this intro is getting too long-

You came back home safely. It felt as you went on a normal walk although, you had a particular destination that was not related to school at all. To you it felt just like a normal walk but instead of merely walking alone, you were with somebody to which you could interact with!

You decided to go on Zandik s' account, you remember not seeing any post, instead he only got tagged by accounts that you didn't care much about. The reason why they appeared on post/tagged was basically out of honor of sort. Heck, the Snezhnayan government even mentioned him on their post about how some particular doctor of theirs had figured a discovery that they'll look into professionally. Theirs? What did they mean by theirs? Did Zandik work for them. Already, you heard how the training to just become a soldier there was torture. Huh, good for him then. He was able to go through the stress of becoming a Doctor at the most demanding Akademiya AND he was able to put up with straight up torture the training gave him. You knew people were serious when they said you'll most likely die at the trainings then when you're actually at war. The Fatui had to set up their own healing buildings near their departments due to how many soldiers get ALMOST fatally injured. But yet, you found it weird. Neither did being a trainee in the Fatui nor did being a student at Sumeru Akademiya give you any breaks, so how did he manage to accomplish both and succeed further on. He looked young, possibly in his twenties. So, he couldn't really graduate and go straight to the Fatui. Since, trainings take 3 months to do since soldiers have to get to go in their camps in their group.

They take about a week if their lucky to walk to a certain destination in the middle of nowhere, yet they also have to go through the heavy snow, the icy wind while wearing a uniform almost made for the summer. They also have to go through storms on flat terrains which end in to soldiers getting electrocuted, through avalanches if their route makes them go by the edge of mountains during a storm. Then they get to site, yet you also have to know they are carrying all of their materials, even whatever they'll use as shelter and food to which they have to unpack and build on whatever terrain was given to them, whether it's bumpy or not, they decide whether they want to sleep in their sweaty uniform in a somewhat secured space or outside during maybe storms since that is the most frequent disaster experienced on a daily basis by the land of Snezhnaya itself.

After that torture, the next day they'll have to wake up early, most soldiers in training get 5 hours of sleep at that time. And then, for about more then two months wit their commander they'll have to go on expedition all while going through courses such as going on one without wearing any form of shoes or socks, they'll have to use weapons against enemy camps. If they get hurt, they have to wait to get healed only after they get back to camp, which leads to infections. They are forced to swim through cold lakes in the early morning when the temperatures are at their coldest. So on and so on.

So basically, now you kind of had an idea that one maybe he didn't work at all. But, on that particular post, they mentioned "past soldier" then they tagged his "@". And, you can't really join before the time you're officially an adult so basically older than 18 years of age. You decided that nothing really peeked your interest so you decided to see who was following him.

Huh.

How?

How was a harbinger following him if he was some random Fatui soldier? Was it usual for the 9th to follow all sorts of Fatui soldiers..? Maybe the ones he trains..? No, the 9th doesn't train since he doesn't fight...

Maybe the one who takes the 9th place of the 11 Fatui Harbingers, used to be a Student at that Akademiya. Both of them looked around the same age and both of them were smart enough to be at least decent at that school. But, wasn't there a rumour that Pantalone grew up poor, the fees of that school have a price that not just anybody can afford, unless they have a scholarship. But only those seen as "average" get them.

But, although the possibilities were rare... Could Zandik and Dottore be the same person all at once?

It would make sense though since, Zandik only said he went to the Akademiya. He never said if he graduated from it though. And Dottore has is past sort of well known to those whose work has been somewhat related to his. Now most people know that he was expelled from that Akademiya for his inhuman experiments but, one of the higher harbingers, supposedly the first, gave him the opportunity to continue testing those blasphemous theories of his.

But, it was late. You didn't want to ask him any questions. Maybe you'll ask him tomorrow at his lab.

Me reading this is in like one year wondering what the hell was I doing:

Y'all reading the end basically realizing I did a cliff hanger once again (maybe on the verge on blocking (MAYBE unfollowing - 😒) me for being lazy and not writing the end bc I write right before sleeping-:

YEAH UHH adding memes at the end of my posts is definitely something I'll start doing more because it's fun. *cries in cramp pain* I MAY START AN AO3 WHERE I UPLOAD ALL THE CHAPTERS OF THIS FIC- ANYWAYS BYEEE-

[spnfanficpond]

November 2022 Angel Fish Awards

(Angel Fish design by @slytherkins!!)

Welcome to this month's Angel Fish Awards!

Every month all of you fantastic writers work your asses off to post some truly incredible stories. Our Angel Fish Awards are the way for all of us, as a community of writers and readers, to lift each other up and give praise to those who have captured our attention and deserve a few kind words.

The monthly Angel Fish Awards are peer-nominated, meaning ANYONE (you don’t have to be a member) CAN NOMINATE ANY POND MEMBER’S FIC. Everyone in this community deserves to be showered with love and feedback, and we hope that this fun, thoughtful award will do just that.

Be sure to read through this whole post as people who were nominated more than once only had one tag activated for Tumblr tagging purposes!

WITHOUT FURTHER ADO, HERE ARE THIS MONTH’S ANGEL FISH AWARDS!

Nominated by @mariekoukie6661

Season's Special (series) by @bamby0304

This is just such a good series! Dean and his love for pie!!!

~*~*~

Nominated by @princessmisery666

Cabin Fever by @slytherkins

I’ve raved about this before and I will no doubt do it again. I will forever reread this one. After re-reading I still cannot adequately express how brilliant this is. My emotions feel kinda frayed and even though it ended “happy” there’s always that underlying pain and anguish that will never truly go away. I’m getting a little teary eyed writing this because one of the things the Winchester’s always seemed to have is hope, and reading Dean very much losing his hope is heart breaking in a way I cannot describe. It’s breathtakingly brutal and honest. Even if you are not a SPN fan, you should read this, I promise its worth every single letter.

Let It Snow by @dean-winchester-is-a-warrior

Cute and fluffy, just what I needed to get into the Christmas spirit!

Do You Know How To Take Care of a Sick Person? by @glygriffe

This is exactly how I pictured Dean would act when he's sick, and soulless Sam definitely needs to work on his bedside manner. Made me laugh and could be canon. 

Untitled ficlet by @ellen-reincarnated1967

I love some worried/protective Winchester's and this and the continuations hit the spot just right!

Tattered (series) by @stusbunker

I'm a bit late to the party on this one but I'm hooked. I can't wait to see where it all leads and the drama that's sure to unfold. I love some jealous Winchester's and adding in the A/B/O dynamics makes it more intriguing.  Each POV is perfect characterisation.

~*~*~

Nominated by @glygriffe

Feral (series) by @luci-in-trenchcoats

There's a lot of stuff I'm not a very big fan of: Omegaverse, Reader's fic, long fanfiction work... And yet! luci-in-trenchcoats Feral fic got me intrigued in the summary and kept my interest all the way to the end. The main characters are well-developed and endearing. I thoroughly enjoyed all of it! Warnings: language, angst, violence, mention of kidnapping, heavily implied abuse (non-graphic), smut

~*~*~

Nominated by @thoughtslikeaminefield

Moo-Moo Goes Missing by @tumbler-tidbits

This is cute and sweet. There's a link for the entire universe as well. Ash is great with graphics as well as storytelling, and this one melts my heart.

~*~*~

Nominated by @mrswhozeewhatsis

Collared (series) by @spnexploration

This series tackles the issue of mind-control curses and how truly evil they can be. (Although there are non-con elements, they are not initiated by the Winchesters. The brothers are trying to fix it.) Every chapter has a new hurdle to be overcome in figuring this out, and I can't wait to see how it turns out!!

Tattered (series) by @stusbunker

I'm seconding the nomination above for this series! SO MUCH ANGST, with both brothers, and it hurts so damn good. This is a must-read!

THANK YOU ALL FOR THE AWESOME WORK AND GREAT FEEDBACK!

These are not actual awards, as in, there is no competition! This system is set up so everyone has a chance to share the love and promote a fic/author in the Pond that has grabbed your attention. The more people that participate, the better this will be :D

THANK YOU ALL AGAIN, KEEP UP THE AMAZING WORK, AND AS ALWAYS, HAPPY WRITING!

[theyluvlyss]

/ᐠ-˕-マ~ intro !

𝐡𝐚𝐢...

...and officially welcome to my blog/account ! I like to entertain the thought that I am a girl of many interests, talents, and, most definitely, thoughts. so, this is the place where I get to release and showcase them !

it would be an absolute honor for me to be able to, not only do something I enjoy, but allow any others who'd like to indulge to enjoy as well :). but, be aware, my main skill here is my writing, so that's something you'll see most often.

you (reading this lol) are welcome to explore, and should you have any questions at all, don't be shy in asking. I'm a very open book, so this is a non-judgemental, friendly, anyone welcome and encouraged, safe space :).

to learn more on the topic of myself, you can always check out the about me page. to explore what fandoms I'm in and what I love to run my mouth talk about, then you should go to the heart. if you have any questions by the end, you can always check out the faq's page. Continue reading further down to see how my account operates, and what you can do to make this the best experience for yourself ♡.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ...𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐩𝐚𝐠𝐞

───────── 《 .°•♡•°. 》 ──────────

/ᐠ-˕-マ~ Please respect all boundaries written below or you will be ignored/blocked. Thank you !

𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 -

《 ♡ 》 I will write any and everything for whoever is requested, just as long as it's someone from any of my master/fandom lists. don't be afraid to get creative !

《 ♡ 》 be specific/detailed with your requests, it's a hugely appreciated help🙏🏽. and don't forget to mention whether you want it to be a full imagine, a list of headcannons, a oneshot, etcetc.

《 ♡ 》 you can both request in my inbox or dm (direct message) me, both are fine, and I encourage you not to worry about the length or "absurdity" of your request, for a truly good writer will work with whatever has been given (in my humble opinion). "A writer typically writes what they know." - don't ask, I forgot who roughly said this.

《 ♡ 》 please include in your request if you'd like to be added to any taglists ! every single thing I write for will have/has one, and if you'd like me to add your @, just let me know, and I'll be happy to do so. you will be tagged anytime I upload anything related to the taglist you requested :).

《 ♡ 》 as for requesting anything else (such as edits, collages, profile pictures, etc.), just make sure you let me know what/which characters, a certain/specific mood you might want, details and such like that.

──────────────

𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐫𝐮𝐥𝐞𝐬 -

《 ♡ 》 as stated before, I will write whatever I'm asked, but please keep in mind that I am only one person with a life outside of Tumblr. some things may take longer than others, but just know I put full effort and passion into every single one of my works that I do, you have my word. also, real quick; no, this isn't my writing style (the whole "lowercase, small words" thing I do is just for aesthetic purposes, my writing style is different).

《 ♡ 》 I do works for "character(s) x reader", "character(s) x OC" (which, again, please be very specific if you're requesting I do an OC of yours), and "character(s) + reader or OC", the "+" being an indicator of platonic/sibling type relationship rather than romantic. also, don't be shy to spice reader up, too ! I love doing dynamic work :D ! ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤExample: bimbo!extroverted!reader x character!

《 ♡ 》 I do write smut (mainly just for the practice tbh), but please be warned and advised that all characters will be aged up (if not already), no matter the character/fandom, and that I probably won't do anything t o o heavy.

《 ♡ 》 I do NOT ship/write romantic relations with any characters who are blood related, nor will I write for any characters with a significant/concerning age gap between them. do with this info what you will one way or another🤷🏽‍♀️.

《 ♡ 》 I do NOT do song requests. It's fine if you want a musically inclined reader or something, I don't mind. but do not give me a certain/specific song to base a work/request off of. I won't be able to do it, especially should you choose a song I don't like. sorry in advance for this😭.

──────────────

𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐨𝐧 𝐫𝐮𝐥𝐞𝐬 -

《 ♡ 》 if you don't like my writing, don't read it.

《 ♡ 》 if you don't like the content I post, block me.

《 ♡ 》 please do not leave any negativity/hate speech on my blog. not only will you then be giving me free reason to cuss you out (teehee) but then I'll get petty and ✨️block✨️ you before you can respond /ᐠ>⩊<マ ! no, but seriously, I don't tolerate any unnecessary/unwarranted hate here, so just run along if that's what you're here to do.

《 ♡ 》 if you have any other questions, please refer to the faq's page. if your question isn't on that page, feel free to put it in my inbox or dm me :).

──────────────

𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 -

I am open to...

《 ♡ 》 constructive criticism/suggestions. I love receiving help on how to improve my work, or just on some cool tips 'cuz tumblr likes to hide all of the cool stuff from me (like changing the font color to something other than the main seven offered /ᐠ-˕-マ...). just be nice/chill about it, please.

《 ♡ 》 meeting new people. I am always down to make new friends, so if that's what you want, I'm happy to indulge ! My dm's are always open for friendship for ages sixteen (16) and up :).

《 ♡ 》 venting. having a tough day? (don't worry, it's been a tough year for me💀). need someone to vent to who won't judge, will listen, and try their best to help/be there for you? you've come to the right girl. again, dm's are always open, so feel free to drop some tea/drama into the chat as if we've known each other forever, and I'll see what I can do to help :)♡. remember, you always have one person in this world who cares about you, and if you don't, it means I died lol.

《 ♡ 》 collabing/shoutouts. are you a writer, too? or have an edit you wanna show off, but don't know where to post it? I gotchu', bestie. send it over to me, and if it happens to align with one of my fandoms, I'll happily repost, show off, whatever you need me to do with hella credits to you ! I love to uplift my community, so I will take any chance I can to do just that :).

《 ♡ 》 commissions. on the topic of support, you guys are always free to show some extra love (only if you want, absolutely no pressure whatsoever) to ask for something extra specific under the notion that I receive compensation. prices and deadlines are negotiable, for now, so don't be afraid to ask and see what we can do ♡.

──────────────

𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 -

I am not open to...

《 ♡ 》 negativity/hate speech. again, I enforce that you do not leave hate. If you don't like anything I post, block me and/or continue to scroll on and find a blog that does interest you. I post for myself and for anyone who appreciates what I do, nothing more, nothing less. this also includes any unwanted religious mantra.

《 ♡ 》 badgering. if you've requested/asked something, please be patient with me. I definitely saw it (unless stated otherwise) and I'm doing my best to be efficient, but again, life happens. although, checking in is much appreciated and I don't have a request limit. I just mean badgering in the sense that I don't need you cussing me out because I didn't throw up words and/or shit out an edit the second you typed up your request💀😭.

《 ♡ 》 pro-shippers/toxic fanbases. do not bring that shit over here, keep y'all asses away from my peaceful, chaotic good self, and this blog. that's all I have to say. this is your only warning.

───────── 《 .°•♡•°. 》 ──────────

𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐬 : [active] [hiatus] [offline]

𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬 : [open] [closed]

───────── 《 .°•♡•°. 》 ──────────

𝐬𝐨 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐡...

...that's all for the introduction ! thanks for reading, and I hope your pillow is cold on both sides, you get your favorite food in the next ten minutes, and that your allergy to cats is miraculously cured.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ/ᐠ^˕^マ~ 𝐛𝐚𝐢 !

[amplexadversary]

More Utena, ep 29-39

Damn it, I should have made a quip at some point between 30 and 32 about already knowing Touga was a bastard. Oh well.

(What I actually thought when they were going over the blood types was "oopsie, someone's having a non-parental event")

It is kind of darkly funny that the situation of Nanami finding that she's "not" related to Touga (up until the audience gets more information) makes her feel that their relationship is less valid and not more.

Then again she demonstrates that she doesn't want to have sex with Touga, so her brother complex is more emotional/romantic incest. Still kind of fucked up.

----------

I do applaud this show for its gradual introduction of the horror while still maintaining the trappings of a Shoujo Romance (the rose frames, parts of the soundtrack, you know). Those elements gradually become extremely chilling the further in you get.

(Not to mention a single rose appearing to spin onscreen during some of the disturbing interactions)

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

I see what the game is. One of the student council members would not have encouraged Anthy the be more herself, but they would have had a chance to get her away from her abuser. But if Akio gets Utena under his thumb, and she wins the last duel, both Utena and Anthy are stuck with him.

And only after that does Utena see what both Anthy and Nanami couldn't bring themselves to say out loud.

And she doesn't react. Because she's mired in it too I'd guess. Because Akio is abusing her as well.

An idea that's kind of reinforced by a date scene where Akio further pushes Utena towards femininity.

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

"In the end, all girls are like the Rose Bride." I think Anthy just dropped Utena's thesis statement here.

In that you're expected to wait until someone else makes every move. In that you don't really get a choice, sometimes even if there's multiple people who proposition you, in some circles you're expected to choose the "best," you could even say the "winner" among the competition, regardless of your feelings. In that you're then expected to go along with the decisions the other person makes, giving them the authority, more or less just tagging along.

In that you're expected to be whatever the situation at hand requires, no less and certainly no more, and failing that invites retaliation (I very specifically am thinking about how that must be the attitude Saionji had when hitting Anthy; it's not enough that she was basically completely submissive to him, he's still going to hit her for not measuring up to some expectation of his.)

I almost wonder if the shadow players kind of align with this, in their purpose being to act out roles thematically specific to the situation the main plot is in. The fact that we don't see them bodily until they need to physically interact with one of the characters - it doesn't matter who they actually are, just the role they play, and shadows are less intrusive. And the main characters don't pay them any mind except for Utena, when she eventually starts responding to them.

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

Now I'm wondering if the flying saucer actually represents the weird, unhealthy dynamic of the whole End of the World Rose Bride thing intruding on peoples' regular lives.

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

I've noticed a few times that there are deliberate sections on this show where the animation just stops for several seconds, and the music keeps going. I actually rewound the first few times to see if youtube was having an issue, and started hovering my cursor over the video whenever I caught it happening again, so I could see the time move forward normally rather than in the janky way it does when you actually get the error where the sound is playing while the picture isn't.

I'm on e37 and now I'm seeing a few of these choices together (the spinning rose, the "frozen" video, repeated animation and sounds) paired up with some strange dialogue and transitions that resemble what a clumsy edit to film might look like, with abrupt changes, repeats of dialogue, and an unnatural rate of flow to the conversation.

I think the animation pauses are meant to both unnerve the viewer and to prime them to notice when it starts happening really blatantly, to convince the audience to interpret it as "something's fishy in-universe" rather than "who fucked up the shot."

The arrows in the back half of the Black Rose arc might serve a similar purpose. They seem to genuinely point to things that the plot is counting on the audience to pick up on; aside from one animation error I couldn't find anything they might have been distracting from. They're actually a legitimate "Notice This."

I almost wonder if the first person POV in the gondola version of the pre-duel sequence being in first person was a bit of slight-of-camera. As of yet I haven't seen any hint of what that POV might have been hiding, but I *did* miss the POV camera trickery in 33 up until the reveal; in addition to being shown out of chronological order, the camera spends a lot of time exactly where Akio or Utena is in the scene to hide their presence.

The gondola sequence feels like a more "easily caught" trick because the "camera" is moving, so when the same trick was pulled with an unmoving POV I was looking for it, but not in that place; the setup is that the audience is more likely to realize what's happening exactly when the right information is given (Akio's hand in this case).

Now I'm wondering if there's still a POV-related reveal coming about the gondola approach now that my guard is down after the other POV trick was resolved. (post e39 note: nope!)

(Look, I like a LOT of works where the authors are squirrelly little tricksters like this, and Utena has already had some weird surrealness going on. I'm paranoid for a reason, damn it!)

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

Well, the opening did in fact tell us exactly what was going to happen.

Utena was not able to rescue Anthy, but her efforts gave Anthy the strength of self-determination to leave.

"Even if the two of us are torn apart, I swear I will change the world."

Utena didn't succeed, but she was able to change things for the Rose Bride. And if "Every girl is like the Rose Bride," the two of them actually do change the world; in Anthy gaining the power to leave the situation she's in, metaphorically "every girl" receives that power.

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

I know there's a movie. I'll see if I can find that as well before I go into the main tag.

[sleeping-drunk-dragon]

Work vent post that was culled from cut tags of previous post:

I don't care if i get in trouble I'm bout to start blocking everything from work on my off day. I'm so sick of everything to do with work - glad at least i know someone else in a similar position feels similar here. I don't care if they consider me good - I'm still getting blamed for stuff they shoved on me and still have to clean up the bits anyways. 'Get a new job' why do people assume i haven't tried? Or that there aren't other issues (like health)? Off day should be off day - not uppers getting furious when you're not contactable 24/7. Oh lord did dealing with those higher ups outside the franchise feel off - the amount of corporate people who genuinely believe the blame games they create is scary. So much actually decent info mixed with blindness to actual conditions on the ground creates... a disquieting picture. Plus there are so many other things that they think are reasonable that fall apart when subjected to reality. Checklists? good idea so badly executed that you have to stop your actual job to take care of them - and that's the 'better' version. Readouts in multiple areas? it would help if it was the ACTUAL NEEDED READING. So other similar things... Could you all make it more obvious the actual purpose of these things is obedience? Blatantly false answers given across the organization if your actually see them - but as long as it's in on time it's great! Not on time? You're in deep shit. Apparently yes it could be more obvious these things don't actually do said purpose given how much of middle management actually believes them - and they all of course don't do these things as they've been promoted past those positions.

Emphasis on promotion - the way they treat it as the endgame... let's just say i didn't realize until writing this why i felt that meeting was wrong on some deep level. Corporations are very much about those godfather type meetings of information and promotion wrapped up in as much manipulation as possible - including people you think should know why something doesn't work but instead blame the overseer - without fail. Introduce an issue discussed - only to yank away all the things that were just mentioned as issues (actual isses if you've worked but no they're suddenly red herrings??) and find some way to blame the lowest manager over the whole thing over something previously unmentioned? That doesn't work that way in the first place? Between that and the cracking down on regular workers the demanded obedience regardless of situation really really goes against the message promoted of working with people saying "every situation is different, you need to account for that". There is so so much whiplash between the talk and the walk that looking back, I now realize the one other person there similar to me feeling wise also had plenty of ground experience - everyone else with 'plenty' of experience had long ago been promoted and no longer work the ground outside of 'helping' situations. All the gungho ones did NOT have the track record on the ground - there was a very stark correlation between eagerness and years. And every single one on the ground? Kept quiet unless required.

I went originally because i was 'signed up', and i figured they should at least give some good information for my job - yeah. They did. A little actual good information for the job, and lots on how when i leave, I'll be running. Seriously have to wonder now how many of those godfather scenes were based off corporate meetings in the first place...

[technoskittles]

Something’s up....

So regarding the new information regarding Mica’s departure from RoosterTeeth that’s cropped up due to the current events, there are a lot of RT employees publicly saying that they regret not standing up for her against the backlash she received against the community.

And of course, it’s a nice sentiment and all (even if it is a tad late) and there should definitely be some action to back their words. I think we can all agree on that.

But I feel like the praise for making these statements and the criticism for “not doing enough” or “being performative” is largely disproportionate.

When Andy Blanchard (who’s not even with RT anymore) made a statement? A lot of praise that he’s speaking up now.

When Miles Luna made a statement? A lot of praise that he’s speaking up now.

When Jeremy Dooley made a statement? A lot of praise that he’s speaking up now. (I even saw one particular person say he’s still a good person and I remember him saying that he wasn’t, he was a scared person because he was afraid of the community turning on him again after he received so much hate when everyone thought he was replacing Ray.)

When Gavin Free, Geoff Ramsey, & Jon Risinger (the only other people I’ve seen so far) made statements? ....Well you get the picture.

But when Barbara Dunkelman made a statement? I’ve been seeing a LOT more criticism geared towards her. There’s been a few people praising her for speaking up now, but most of the replies I’ve seen on her QRT of Mica’s tweet have been really critical and not as forgiving. I’ve even seen one person demand she give up her host spot for Always Open.

On the other side, Mariel has also received a bit more criticism, though it seems that she’s received more of an even mix of both that and praise.

Notice something?

First off, it’s really odd that two of the top three people receiving the MOST criticism are not only women, but also not even on Achievement Hunter (and some member of AH haven’t even acknowledged Mica’s tweet it seems). But I’m not here saying that criticism isn’t allowed or shouldn’t be brought up. 

The community absolutely needs to call RT out - AH and the company as a whole. But directing all of that criticism towards one person - especially in a disproportionate amount towards a Jewish woman rather than all the men who were actually there and involved - is also just sketchy in my opinion. If you’re going to criticize RT, make sure that sentiment is expressed to ALL of the employees. Don’t praise one side and then constantly berate another when, AGAIN, the person you happen to be berating is a JEWISH. WOMAN. who has to deal with her own shit (even if it’s minimal compared to what Mica experienced).

The only exception to this that I’ve seen where someone has received far more criticism than praise for speaking out is Matt Hullum, which honestly is well deserved as the CEO of the company. 

I am 100% of the opinion that RT needs to get their shit together and start speaking out more on behalf of their employees, especially since Fiona is receiving the same type of hate and bigotry that Mica had gone through. With that and current events going on, they need to make a statement AND a plan of action to better handle these situations and protect their employees while also diversifying their workspace. 

But we also need to pay attention to WHO is receiving the most criticism and ask ourselves why that is.