#in terms of what type of fics i'm expected to write

[motleyfam]

Mx motleyfam, why do you have 5 ao3 accounts? What do you do with all of those?? I am desperately curious.

(And i'm guessing they aren't open pseuds, but if i'm wrong, do you feel like sharing what they are?)

I like to keep an ✨ air of mystery ✨

[mothdruid]

Within the past 72 hours the TGM fandom got a fire put under it's ass, for lack of a better term/phrase. Even though I'm not as active in the fandom anymore, it did make me want to talk about a few things. This isn't the first time that I've had to make a post similar to this, usually speaking about reblogs and keeping your fanfic writers feeling wanted within the fandom spaces, but today I'm going to talk more about fandom etiquette and my experiences in fandom spaces. So, if you want to hear my opinion on fandom etiquette, how I learned fandom etiquette, and my thoughts about the doxing situation that has happened, keep on reading.

My Fandom Experience.

The first fandom that I was ever a part of was The Hunger Games fandom in the 8th grade (if you don't include my anime fandoms). I was 12-13 at the time. This was when I was first introduced to Tumblr and being involved within a fandom online. At the time I was super young, barely even knew who I was as a person, let alone in a fandom space. All I did was reblog little gifsets and fawn over Josh Hutcherson. I remember getting my first hate anon, even though I didn't do anything that would generate that to even happen. Even when I was 12-13, I couldn't understand why anyone would send a hate anon. That was when I found out a friend of mine found my Tumblr and actually secretly hated me, so she sent me hate anons. Still, before I knew it was her I didn't understand.

Fandoms were a formative part of my childhood. I think that main one that helped form me though was the Supernatural (yeah, I know, eye roll), Naruto, and The Hobbit fandoms. I had made friends on Tumblr and Instagram through these fandoms. During these times was when I had first started consuming fanfiction. Specifically, destiel and thilbo fanfiction. This is how I started to find the things in fanfiction that I loved, and the things that I hated. Instead of sending hate to the writers for their thoughts and stories that I didn't agree with, I would back out of the story or just scroll past. Not only that, I also started to use the filters on AO3 constantly, ensuring that I was only reading the fics that I knew I'd enjoy. Also, I was careful to read warnings and tags prior to reading the fic. Never once did I blame the writer for something that I knew I didn't like and accidentally read or read for see what it was about.

After high school was when I started getting into fanfiction writing. I've written for a lot of fandoms during this time. The IT movies, Total Drama, Haikyuu, Attack on Titan, Marvel, Bridgerton, Top Gun: Maverick, and currently ASOIAF. As a writer I've never gotten hate, thankfully, but I have had a lot of friends that have. It's sad to see so many people who take the time to write, whether it's enjoyable or not, receive hate. As writers we are simply expressing our creativity for the things that we love. Since posting fanfiction on tumblr, I have experienced a lot of people pestering for new updates and when the next fic is, and so have a lot of other writers on here. Even though people only know us as a little icon and username, fanfiction writers are people. We have lives outside of writing fanfiction. Everyone also isn't the same type writer. One person may easily write multiple fics every week, some of us take longer, and some of us are even just passion writers (me lol).

The TGM fandom has been one of the most negative fandom experiences I've ever seen/had. It is full of some of the meanest people/anons I've ever seen. From writers being attacked for fic ideas, people being sent hate for something that the anon has full control over, and people constantly expecting new stories to read on the daily. Yes, I do know that other fandoms have these issues, but it seems to be almost a weekly, hell, even daily thing within this fandom. A lot of the issues that I see happen in this fandom are from people who don't understand fandom etiquette.

Fandom Etiquette.

If you had noticed there was a few things I put in bold above. These are key things that I learned during my time that attribute to fandom etiquette. So without further a do, I'll list out some fandom etiquette rules that I follow all the time.

Don't send hate anons to people

Block/unfollow people you don't like

If you don't like an idea or fic, don't read it

Read through all warnings and tags that the writer provided

Use AO3 filters

Don't blame the writer/creator for reading things they created that you actively know you don't like

Writers/Creators aren't "content farms"

There are people behind these blogs/usernames, treat them like someone you'd see on the street

Writers/Creators are expressing love/passion for something, don't hate them for doing that

If you see something fandom related that you don't like, scroll past it or ignore it

YOU CURATE YOUR OWN EXPERIENCE (ESPECIALLY ON TUMBLR)

The Doxing Situation.

For those who are unaware but decided to read this anyways, recently there was a writer (Mama Mayhem) on here who got doxed from another writer in the fandom. Mayhem has since lost her job due to the doxing. This was apparently from her breaking HIPAA by posting a picture into a private groupchat/discord. This picture was posted almost a half year ago. Meaning that the person who reported/doxed Mayhem had known about this picture for months and only recently decided to do something about it.

I'll start by saying that I also work in healthcare, and know many other people here who do. I understand that a HIPAA violation is 100% an offense that gets you fired. I'm not excusing the HIPAA violation if one did occur.

Some people have brought up the idea that maybe the person that reported the picture, and doxed Mayhem, was doing it out of the goodness of their heart. Due to the timeline of it all, that doesn't seem likely. I had a previous coworker get fired for HIPAA violations and it took a total of a week from the initial report for her to be gone.

The biggest thing I want to convey is that TWO WRONGS CAN HAPPEN AT THE SAME TIME. Yes, if Mayhem violated HIPAA, it is wrong. But at the same time, the person held onto this information for months only to use it out of spite, pettiness, and cruelty, is wrong.

My Thoughts.

Due to Mayhem being doxed, a lot of people have decided to leave this platform, take indefinite hiatuses, stop writing, or move to AO3 exclusively., and I don't blame them. I'll be honest, I'm thinking about moving to AO3 exclusively now. AO3 feels a lot more rewarding in my experience. I already only post my fics for ships to AO3, so why not just post everything on AO3 (which I usually do).

I think a lot of people have forgot what it feels like to feel shame in something they say or do. When I say this, it's directed towards people who send hate or do other malicious things in fandom spaces. Fandoms were never this clique-ish and mean. I think it has to do with the pandemic, meaning that a lot of people who would have never joined a fandom did because they weren't allowed to do anything outside of their house. So, those mean girls that made fun of fandom girlies (g/n) previously, joined the fandoms and decided started bullying the people within them.

This situation is super shitty and people are now scared. It makes complete sense, especially after seeing someone, that many of you were close to, be doxed. A lot of people are scared of it happening to them now. I don't think this fandom will be the same after this situation, but who knows, maybe everyone will just forget and move on. Either way, I think I'll be taking a step back from the TGM fandom. I'll still be here, but until further notice, I won't be posting any TGM fanfiction. Maybe a gifset/picture here and there, but I don't think this is a fandom I feel comfortable writing for anymore.

If you've read all of this, thank you.

[anthracite-writes]

Obey Me! One-shot; Personal Maid Cafe Service

Leviathan x gn! reader || SFW || TW//CW: uses male termonalogy [ uses the term "Bulter" insted of maid and once use of the word "Handsome" but thats about it] - General Summary: Working your usual shift after school hours to earn a bit of grim on the side at one of the popular maid cafes in the Devildom, you are requested by one of the guest - not expecting who you would meet on the other side of the private room door.

NOTE // I want to shoot my shot at a one-shot fic so why not? Sorry in advance if the story seems choppy and doesn't flow correctly. It's my first time in a long time attempting at short fiction and writing in second person - this might be a one time thing for writing second person for one-shots. Let's just say I'm using this as a little exercise to ease myself back into writing these type of stuff. again, sorry in advance if this isn't a good one shot.

You were in the middle of checking out a group of guests you were assigned to for the day, waiting for them to finish with their transaction at the counter, fidgeting with the sleeve of my uniform slightly as you started to zone out a bit - wondering what the brothers were up to back home. “Y/N, you got requested in private room 3B. It’s Party of one.” one of my co-workers said in a hushed tone, squeezing past you to grab a couple menus, “Well, not exactly requested by name - but they requested a ‘butler’ to serve them.”

“I’ll see to it then, thanks for the heads up.” You said softly as you heard the transaction go through. You flash a smile at the group of customers, handing them they’re recipe upon their request and wishing them on their way.

You step away from the counter and grab the menus and head to the hall lined with doors in the back of the cafe, straightening out the dress vest and fixing the tie of the butler uniform you had to wear in a subtle manner, occasionally greeting guests as they passed you. It wasn’t usual that a guest would request a butler as their server for their experience in this maid cafe, hence the lack of ‘butlers’ in this location. Or any other maid cafes for that matter. It was extremely rare for maid cafes in general to even have any other gender than female employees since more often than not these themed restaurants are more directed to the male demographic. It was extremely lucky you found this job listing on the bulletin in the House of Lamentation. And it did pay extremely well, which you was happy about as well, no longer needing to rely on the allowances Lord Diavolo gave you as the human exchange student at RAD.

I finally reach the room I was assigned to, closing my eyes and taking a breath as you hyped yourself up to entertain another guest. ‘okay… here we go again.’ You put your hand on the door knob, going in without even looking who you were serving though the fully glass door, just wanting to get this private room guest done and over with. Going into the room, you flash a smile at the guest. “Welcome home, masterrrr…” Your words dragged as eyes widen at the sight of the guest, the guest equally as surprised - hearing the Avatar of Envy start to stutter from his usual nervous habit.

“Y/N… I, um.. Er… H-hi…” Leviathan stuttered, his cheeks going red as he flustered up. Both of you were in the same boat, way too stunned to speak from surprise and shocked.

“Hi…” you’re voice trailed, closing the door and pulling the privacy curtain over it, “You can’t tell anyone I work here-”

“Please! You can’t tell my brothers, they won’t let me live it down!” Levi begged, cutting you off mid sentance before looking away from you as he fidgeted with the sleeve of his jacket you usually see him wear around the house when he’s out of his room.

The two of you stared at each other, awkwardness filling the air before you finally spoke, “Okay… I won’t say a word about you being here if you don’t tell anyone I work here."

Levi nodded feverishly in response, happily agreeing to those terms. You take a shaky breath and continue with your usual greeting, walking over to the table and putting down the menus.

“Welcome home Master. What can I start you off with for drinks?” you say, looking at him with a soft smile.

Leviathan’s cheeks became a darker shade of red as you spoke and only worsened when you smiled at him, “Please um… can you just call me by my name?” He requested, looking at you nervously.

“It’s kinda my job to call you 'master', Levi… you of all people should know that.” You say with a soft voice, trying to put the shut-in sitting in front of you at ease.

“I-I know that much, Y/N… it’s just…” Levi trailed off though, trying to find the words and trying to not mess this up, “It feels weird hearing you of all people saying that to me…” he averted his eyes from yours, focusing on the menu in front of him.

You couldn’t help but let out a soft sigh, “Well… I do remember you talking about how you want to have the full maid cafe experience one time, so allow me to help you with that experience. Again, it's part of my job. It’s kinda a requirement.” You reasoned with him, straightening out your uniform, fixing the gloves on your hands to make sure they were taut against the shape of your hand.

Levi bit his lip,  “F-fine… I guess it’s fine…” he mumbled, his tangerine orange eyes looking up at you, looking at your uniform then meeting your gaze. “Uh… I um…” He began to fidget, his eyes starting to avoid you and looking pass you.

“Levi, take your time. Don’t push yourself too hard. I’ll wait,” You say with a soft tone, folding your hands in front of you.

The demon nodded slightly as he took a breath, “Can I get water…? Please?” His voice trembled, looking up at you at the corner of his eye.

“Of course master, I’ll leave you alone with the menu and I’ll be back with your water.” You turn on your heels and walk to the door, looking over your shoulder as you take hold of the door handle, checking on the lavender haired male you were serving. He was looking down at the menu, occasionally looking up to see if you’ve left before averting his eyes back at the menu. You couldn’t help but just smile a bit, you can see he’s trying to push himself to be more social and you couldn’t help but feel for him, you take a breath before you exit the room.

~~~

“Um, Y/N…?” Leviathan chimed up, getting your attention, walking over to his side.

“What can I do for you, Master Leviathan?” You say, looking lean down slightly as you wait for his response.

Leviathan’s cheeks rosy up from how close you were to him, clearing his throat a bit before he spoke, looking up at you from where he sat, “I… uh… I just wanted to tell you that I uh… I think your uniform looks nice…” he said through stutters, “y-you look really handsome… I mean! I, uh…”

You felt your face heat up from his comment, letting out a soft chuckle from the flattery, “Thanks, I’m quite fond of the uniform myself.”

Levi cleared his throat again, “A-anyway, I figured out what I want to eat…” he said, showing you the menu and pointing at what he wanted, you can see that his hands were trembling from all the nerves he must be feeling. You simply responded with a nod, pulling out the pocket note pad and pen from your pant pocket, taking note of it. “I’ll be right bac-” “Y/N… can I make a request of you…” Leviathan cut you off, immediately getting flustered, “S-sorry! I didn’t mean to cut you off! I- um…”

“Leviathan… Master, it’s fine…��� You say, looking at him with a soft expression, “You’re the one in charge here, remember?”

The demon gulped down hard and nodded, “R-right… well um… is… it possible if you can um… if you can stay here… with… with me?” he stuttered, his gaze averting away from you as he fidgeted the hem of his shirt.

“Of course master, I’ll just put in your order first if that’s okay. I won’t leave the room, I’ll do it remotely, okay?” You said with a smile, turning and walking away from him, making your way to the tablet on the wall next to the door, putting in his order as the room fell to complete silence - the sound of you tapping on the screen the only thing audible.

“Um… Y/N?” You hear the male behind you call out.

You let out a hum in response to let him know you heard him, “Yes? What is it, master?” you call back, sending the order off to the kitchen.

“Can… can you sit with me?” He requested, looking down at the table as his leg shook. You turned around, seeing how anxious he was. Without a word, you walk back to the table and pull out the seat across from the male, sitting straight up, hands folded in your lap. Levi looked up at you wide eyed as if he was a deer in the headlights, not expecting you to accept his request. “Are… you just doing this to make me happy…?” He mumbled, looking at you from the corner of his eye.

“No, I’m doing this out of my own free will. I don’t usually accept these kinds of requests when I’m on the open floor area of the café since it’s kinda against the rules. But in private rooms, those rules don’t apply but I still have the right to reject requests. Besides, I’ll happily sit with you. “Though, I do have something to ask you if you don’t mind.” You add.

Leviathan looked back at you, his eyes softening, finally relaxing his nerves after all this time, “S-sure… I don’t mind, what is it?”

“Why… Did you request a butler server? Were you aware I worked here?” You asked, seeing Levi immediately start to fluster up.

“No! It’s nothing like that, I knew you worked - I just had no idea you were working here!” He raised his hands in protest before sighing, putting his hands flat on the table’s “I-I was just curious is all… nothing else to it. I wasn’t expecting to see you in such a place… dress up like…”

“A butler?” You said through a chuckle. Leviathan lips curled slightly in a small smile as you finished his thought and nodded.

“Yeah, you can say that…” he said with a slight chuckle in his tone, “Is… it okay if I request something from you again, Y/N?”

“You don’t need to ask every time you want to give me an order, you know? You say though a chuckle. Leviathan’s cheeks turned red from your words, a slight pout on his lips.

“Well… Is it okay if I request that we share what I ordered?” The demon asked, looking away from you as his face deepened in colour.

“Like… you want to split your meal with me?”

Leviathan looked at you then looked away with a slow blink, “Yeah… I mean, there’s nothing to it! I… I just assumed you’re kinda hungry and dinner won’t be ready by the time you get off your shift.” He muttered under his breath, yet loud enough to hear his reasoning, “You can say no, I’d understand… why would you want to share food with a yucky otaku like me-”

“I’d be happy to take you up on your offer, Master Leviathan.” You say softly, cutting him off. He looked at you with pure shock, his orange hue eyes glistening with silent joy as he processed what you just said to him. After a while of silence he gulped, parting his lips as if to say something to you only to be shut down by your pager going off.

~~~

You step out into the busy streets of the Devildom, letting a sigh of exhaustion from finally getting off your shift, you sling your bag over your shoulders and turn in the direction to go back to the House of Lamentation, stopping in your tracks as you see the familiar otaku waiting outside the cafe, his back against the brick wall as he scrolled through his phone. “Levi?” You call out to him, getting his attention. A faint smile forming on his lips when his eyes meet yours.

“Hey, Y/N… you’re finally off the clock?” Levi says with a slight stutter, putting his phone away in his pocket and pushing his back off the wall and walk over to you, hands in his jacket pocket in an attempt to look cool.

“How… have you been waiting out here?” You said with a chuckle, seeing the shut-in’s pale skin slowly turn red at your question, rubbing the back of his neck as he looked down at the stone streets.

“I uh… don’t get the wrong idea, I was just passing by after visiting a couple shops to pre-order stuff and just window shop, ya know?” The lavender-haired male said through stutters, shoving his hand that he was rubbing against his neck into his pocket again. “I just… wanted to stop by, see if you were done with your shift and I um… I…” His eyes slowly drifted back to you, the small smile on your lips while you listened to him speak made his face heat up even more, and it didn’t help you were still in your work uniform - adding onto the cuteness factor to him. He takes a deep and shaky breath as he closes his eyes, trying to relax himself, “I… was wondering if you’d like me to walk back to the House of Lamentation… “But not in the cliche-normie ‘I want to walk home with you because I like you’ way… just for convenience sake! Since we’re both heading home now.” He added, eyes wide and cheeks red as he tried to reason.

“And what makes you think I want to go directly home?” you say in a teasing manner, Levi's posture stiffening up at your words at his face deepens with colour. Leviathan started to stammer and stumble over his words, unsure how to answer. You let out a soft chuckle, walking past him, nudging him playfully. “Come on, let’s head home.”

Levi’s eyes brightened and he swiftly joined your side without hesitation, keeping pace with your steps so the two of you were walking side by side. “It… it was nice to hang out with you after school. Just the two of us I mean, even if you were working…”

“I liked it too, it practically didn’t feel like I was working at all.” You said with a smile, continuing to look forward as the two of you walked down the streets leading back home from the shopping district of the Devildom. Little did you know, Leviathan was looking down at you from the corner of his eye, admiring how you looked in your uniform - reminding him of some animes and mangas he’s read, you looked almost like those characters to him.

“I… um… Maybe I can come by again, so we can spend more time together and all…” He suggested, scratching his neck out of habit when he felt anxious.

“Well, personally… I wouldn’t mind if we hung out after I finished my shifts and when I get days off.” You suggested in a casual manner, Levi taken back by your words.

“H-huh?! You would want to hang out with a boring shut-in like me?” He questioned you, looking at you in surprise with a hint of joy glimmering in his eyes.

You nodded in response, “I mean, yeah. I know that going out to a place like the maid cafe I work at is quite nerve racking with your social anxiety and all so… how about I suggest this. “I can let you experience a maid cafe in the comfort of your own room. I do know how to cook and make a couple things on the menu and I don’t mind wearing my uniform for you. That way we can spend time together and you can have the maid cafe experience whenever you want to. I’d be like… your personal butler in a way.” You looked up at the Avatar of Envy, awaiting his response. Levi’s face cheeks were dusted with pink as he thought, looking back at you with a slight smile.

“I.. I would really like that, Y/N. Thanks…” He said with a smile, “Well, as you are my ‘personal butler’, is it only to make a request…?”

You let out a soft chuckle as Levi immediately went with the idea, “Sure, go ahead.”

“Can… can I hold your hand while we walk home?” He said, his voice trembling before he shook his head, “forget I said anything, why would someone like you want to hold hands with an otaku like me? It was a dumb question, you don’t have-”

Without saying a word, you bushed the back of your hand against his before taking it gently in yours, gently lacing your fingers in the spaces between yours. You felt Leviathan stiffen up slightly then relax, his hand gently taking yours in return, a small smile forming upon his lips, knowing this was just the start for you two. The start of a friendship about to bloom.

[cantwritethetword]

Donna, Human, Yes

Fic Descript: During an argument, Donna discovers that the doctor has a rather human weakness. When he insists he's not ticklish, she has to prove him wrong.

~A/N  - I RETURN FROM THE DEADDDDDDDDDD

Yes writers blocked kicked my ASS last year (aside from squealing santa, i feel like i did ok with that one hehe) but I'm back with this lil fic.

I watched the Doctor Who specials FINALLY and I cried so many times omfg it was so good to see David Tennant and Catherine Tate back together again being lil chaotic besties through all of time and space, so of course I had to write something for it !!!!

And you are bearing witness to the magic of my adhd meds in action !!! I've been so productive in the last hour it's great !!! (EDIT: didn't write this in an hour, just to be clear. took me a little while but ADHD MEDS WORKED FOR BOTH TIMES YAY)

Just something cute and fluffy af ^^ love you all <3

- Enoy! ~

Tag List: @carrie-tate

Masterpost Link 

The bond between Donna and The Doctor was certainly one for the ages.

Human words couldn't do justice to the type of bond they had, at least that's what The Doctor claimed in his newer, more openly emotional regeneration. Their love was too strong for just the term of friendship, too close for anything romantically implied, too adoring to be siblings. Even the term soulmates had a particularly selective connotation to it that left a bad taste in The Doctor's mouth.

Nevertheless, it was clear they could hardly live without the other. There was enough love between them to power galaxies, and knowing their history neither would be surprised if it had.

And it was this closeness, this fierce tenderness, that led to discussions such as this. Displays of deep affection half-heartedly disguised behind harsh tones and disgruntled gestures.

"You may be a high and mighty Time Lord, but you're still an idiot." Donna huffed, as the TARDIS finally settled after takeoff.

The Doctor scoffed. "I'll try not to take that to heart, and I thought that escape went quite well!"

"YOU THOUGHT-" Donna stopped herself, breathing deeply to try and contain her shit that was threatening to lose itself. "The only reason we even STARTED to escape was because I PUSHED YOU TO THE EXIT!"

"Well yeahhhh..." The Doctor rolled his head, letting his eyes drift away from his companion's. "But-."

"But NOTHING." Donna interjected. "It's the same thing every time! You start running your mouth and saving the day, and that's wonderful, but you don't know when to stop!"

"Donna I-"

"Let me finish." She snapped, raising a pointed finger towards him and stepping closer.

The Doctor held his hands up in front of him with a gentle nod of the head.

"You drag yourself through hell, running and ranting and... and sonic-ing!"

A small snicker escaped The Doctor, but he straightened his face almost instantly after when her angry look didn't waver.

"You can't control yourself!"

He didn't dare argue.

"I always have to pull. your. arse. out.!" She accentuated each of the last words with a corresponding poke to The Doctor's torso.

And while she expected the pokes to help get her point across, she definitely was not expecting the almost childish giggle that spilled out of his mouth. Or the awkward jerk his body made to cover the ribs she had prodded.

But Donna wasn't stupid. She didn't waste any time in a state of surprise, no she jumped straight to (correct) conclusions.

"Oh no way." She grinned, creeping closer to the now incredibly flustered Time Lord.

"Now Donna," The Doctor began, his mouth twitching upwards in a nervous smile of self-betrayal. "You don't know what this is."

Donna gave a singular breathy chuckle. "Nice try sunshine, but you're not yapping your way out of this one."

"There are countless reasons why... why I would... flinch away from you like that!" He continued rambling.

"I know ticklish when I see it sweetheart." She smiled sweetly, though there was nothing sweet about the predatory glint in her eyes.

"What?!" The Doctor tensed, almost frozen in place at the mention of the word. Though quickly forced himself back into talking his way out of the situation in a faux-calm tone. "Uh, Doctor, Time Lord, no."

She smirked, stepping closer to him.

"Donna," she paused, reveling in just how much she was getting to him. "Human," she paused again, less than a few feet away from him. "Yes."

And then she lunged.

Her hands met his sides and The Doctor curled inwards, his arms tangling themselves in a fruitless effort to push her away.

For a moment, there was nothing but the sounds of Donna's fingertips clawing against the fabric of The Doctor's shirt, before he finally cracked.

Bubbly giggles spluttered out of The Doctor's chest as he folded forwards, allowing Donna to slip behind him and trap him in a bear hug. His knees slowly buckled, and (with no chance at keeping someone his height upright by herself), Donna followed his squirming body to the floor.

"Dohohohonnahaha!" He squeaked between bouts of helpless laughter, but her name was barely comprehensible amongst the childish noises she tickled out of him. "Ihihihi-!... wahahai-!... stahahaha-!..."

She chuckled, rolling her eyes as her hands climbed up into his armpits. "What was that?"

He couldn't reply with anything other than a squeal, writhing for a few seconds before his body finally submitted to the playful torture. He tried to splutter a few words out, but nothing could make its way through the torrent of giggles currently occupying his voice box. THe man had gone practically limp, aside from his hands which were still seized up like a tyrannosaurus rex.

"I never thought I'd see the day..." Donna shook her head in amusement as she skittered her fingernails around his collarbones. "That anyone would render you speechless."

"DOHOHOHON-! WAHAHAI-! IHIHIHI-!"

She laughed again. "Keep trying space man."

"IHIHIHI-! CAHAHAHA-!" He chortled, his hands suddenly free enough to slap themselves to his cheeks to cover his embarrassment.

"Whaaaat~?" She teased, rapidly poking him in one side while squeezing the other.

"IT TIHIHICKLES!" He somehow blurted out, before breaking into cackles as Donna transitioned to dual-hand squeezing. "DONNA PLEHEHEASE!"

It was Donna's turn to cackle, though hers was much shorter and much more controlled of course. "It tickles, does it? I had no idea."

Aside from the odd jolt when Donna hit a particularly sensitive spot, The Doctor had gone practically limp. All that laughter had fully sapped his energy, and he was leaning his back against Donna's chest to keep himself upright.

Taking her chance, Donna once again decided to change her position to further destroy the man. Sliding back from under him (taking care he wouldn't fall back and whack his head on the TARDIS floor - she wasn't that cruel), Donna pulled his arms from covering his face and stretched them above his head.

In his state of ticklish delirium, The Doctor didn't quite notice what was happening. Assuming she had finally taken pity on him, he focused on catching his breath with a stupid grin still stuck to his face.

That was until the moment her shins pinned his arms to the floor.

He locked eyes with her, now fully aware of just how screwed he was. With Donna kneeling above him, she had full access to the armpits she had assaulted with ticklish claws just moments ago.

"Nononono Donna you can't!" He begged, legs kicking wildly with every word. "You'll kill me!"

She shrugged, "You'll regenerate." before putting her typing skills to good use and pitter-pattering her fingertips against his underarms.

The Doctor clamped his mouth closed, thrashing his head to one side with his eyes screwed shut in a soon-to-be vain attempt to not react to the unbearable sensations radiating through his body. But even a mighty Time Lord could only hold out for so long.

After less than ten seconds (which The Doctor would later argue was a rather impressive length of time), he crumbled. The childish, high-pitched giggles returned and he was once again a mess beneath Donna's touch.

"Oh!" Donna gasped, slowing her fingers in response to the Doctor's slightly wheezy breathing. "And if you do regenerate, I'll be the first person ever to tickle two Time Lords!"

Aside from the occasional titter, The Doctor could finally gain control over himself again. He gulped mouthfuls of air as Donna climbed off his arms, and slowly sat up next to her.

"Not-" He panted, still more than a little out of breath.

Donna chuckled. "Take your time."

"Not tw-" His huffing interrupted again. "Not two."

She gave him a quizzical look.

"Even if I-... regenerate... I'm still the same... singular Time Lord." He corrected. "You've only tickled the one, and to be honest it happened a lot back on Gallifrey so you're not particularly sp-"

She barked a singular laugh, cutting him off. "God, you really don't know when to shut up."

His confusion turned to giggly panic when Donna pushed him back to the floor again and sat on top of his hips. "Nononono Donna not agAIN-!"

[pokenimagines]

Grusha | Fic | where the reader gets badly injured by a wild Pokémon attack but as he reaches reader he sees them knocked out and gets protective?

This has a bit of angst in it, but not a lot...I don't think? I just saw this prompt and I'm like "Oh, I have the perfect set up!". Reader ends up totally fine though, just saying. I don't ever write straight up angst.

Rules | Discord Server (16+)

SFW Grusha: Protecting What Matters

Grusha tried not to let many things bother him; he preferred it that way. He sometimes got annoyed with overly optimistic people, or those who saw everything through rose colored goggles, but most of the time he just let went with the flow.

Then he met you, the kind of person he didn't expect to fall for. You were moving forward at a fast pace, far faster then he would've ever thought possible. He ended up falling hard, and he hated it. He pushed down the feelings as much as he could, but whenever you begged him to go out somewhere with you, or to train in the mountains, he always had issues telling you no.

You were a capable trainer, with an even more capable team, so he never worried when going out to train in the mountains. He knew, he cursed himself for knowing, that anything could happen. Anything could change the course of your life in an instant, just one misstep was all it took. Despite knowing this, hell even preaching it at some point, he didn't pay enough attention to you.

One moment, you were battling a Froslass with your fire-type, an easy battle, then the next you were on the snow, bleeding from the head. He had never ran so fast in his life, sliding on ice as he skidded over to you. His Altaria managed to beat the Froslass without him even having to utter a single command.

He looked you over, seeing how you were knocked out cold. Despite saying your name several times, you didn't rouse. You had a pulse, that was good. It just looked like a chunk of ice had been hurled at your head. Grusha managed to lift you in his arms as he took you to the pokemon center.

You were fine, completely and utterly fine. A minor concussion, but otherwise you didn't have any long term issued. Three entire weeks and you were completely back to normal; knocking at Grusha's front door. The blue haired boy opened the door, wearing just a long sleeved shirt and some black joggers. His hair was tied into a bun as he looked over at you with an almost surprised look.

"You're back..." Grusha said, opening the door for you to come in. You happily walked into the home, kicking off the boots so you wouldn't trail snow everywhere in the home.

"Yuppers, I was wondering if you wanted to go out into the mountains with me. I'm feeling a lot better and my team is itching to battle." You said, acting as if nothing happened.

"You want to go back out there? You know you could've died if that piece of ice hit you any harder." Grusha said and you shrugged.

"Well, it didn't, and I'll be more careful this time." You said, not bothered at all. You were alive and well, after all. Sure you were knocked out, but you lived.

"You might not be so lucky next time, you know things can happen in a split second. One wrong move..." Grusha began, wanting to convince you that maybe training in the mountains wouldn't be a good idea.

"I know, but this is what I enjoy doing. I can't let once incident that I survived make me quit. I'm well aware of the risks of what can happen out there, Grusha." You said, feeling a bit like he was trying to dictate what you could and couldn't do.

"I just...what would I do if you died?" He murmured the last part so quietly you could barely make it out. Your eyes widened, as you realized exactly what has him so anxious. You gave him a wobbly smile before walking over to him.

Grusha hasn't anticipated you wrapping your arms around him, pulling him into a hug. You looked at him with a smile, "I don't plan on dying anytime soon." You informed him.

"It could still happen..." He murmured.

"Ya, well guess you'll just have to accompany me and make sure I don't get hurt again." You joked and Grusha put a hand on your head, playing with your hair.

"That worked wonderfully last time..." He reminded you, but you weren't caring.

"Guess you'll have to be extra diligent then. I bet if you held my hand out there, I won't be able to slip away and get hurt." You couldn't help, but chuckle at the light blush on his cheeks.

"Fine, I'll go with you...but you have to promise to be careful." Grusha said; you couldn't contain your joy as you reached up and kissed his cheek.

"Will do!" You said while parting and going over to put your boots back on. Grusha just looked at you for a moment more, his hand covering the cheek you just kissed. Perhaps he wouldn't be able to continue pushing down his feelings if you acted like that.

•❅──────✧❅✦❅✧──────❅• Thank you for reading! Did you know we have a discord? It has everything from RPs, General Discussions, and even an 18+ area to go hog wild in! We even do announcements early for when the inbox is opening for requests, as well as other events! Come in and join us!

[generalluxun]

What makes Sabrina one of your favourite (if not favourite) characters of the show?

She's just a fun plucky underdog type character? I like to describe her as 'What Marinette would be if the opening theme song were honest.' She's just an ordinary girl in amongst all these high-powered/rich/multitalented children in a world of superpowers. Her talents are hidden. She's *actually* clumsy unlike Marinette who is only 'cutely clumsy'.

All in all, she's fun to write for.

She's connected secondhand to a large portion of the caste. Her characterization is loose enough to be played with a bit. Her loyalty is refreshing in a surprisingly mercenary caste of people. She is in a portion as a protagonist to learn much and grow in new and exciting ways.

I absolutely LOVE how she and Adrien ended up mixing when I tried writing them in a one shot. She has one thing that Marinette lacks- humility. I'll try to explain this.

Marinette- Oh No I'm being cringe, everyone will see! My reputation, I'll be a laughing stock! I have to run and hide! Panic! Anxiety! Flail!

Sabrina- I'm being cringe, because I'm me. People will laugh, but no one expects anything from me anyway. So, I might as well just be cringe and honest about it.

That difference is so big. One creates so much stress and the other just... lets it go? This is what made Adribrina click. The way they just both get to be dorks with each other. Adrien showed Marinette he was Cat Noir in Ephemeral and she freaked out, rejecting that side of him. Adrien shows Sabrina he's Cat Noir in Dog Daze and she just thinks that is SO COOL. Like, he's awesome both ways!

See how that relationship is just... healthier?

I'll say I like Sabrina as someone who sticks with things, who muddles through problems, and who doesn't expect instant gratification. (the show has a problem with too much instant gratification)

I don't like her as someone who pushes Chloé aside, all those fics where she dumps her lifelong friend read as salty and OOC to me. If there's to be a break, Sabrina would be sad, it would be tearful, and she'd leave the door open. If anything Sabrina would work to become the kind of person who could set good boundaries, and then try to rekindle their friendship if possible on more even terms. Would it work? That's the plot of a good fic, isn't it?

That's just a primer, She's so much fun.

Also: She SMOL.

[ashessonfire]

hello lovely!! would it be possible to write smth w wylan?? like, sweet little headcanons abt him in a relationship!! thank youu <3 love ur fics

Dating Wylan Van Eck - Headcanons <3

- Pairing - Wylan Van Eck x Reader (gender neutral)

A/N - Hi Hi!! One exam is down, only four more to go! Very soon my other works will be completed, but i missed writing so much, so here are some of my sweet headcanons for Wylan. I hope i have done him justice in this, as I am normally a Kaz type of girl. I hope i have done you proud anon <3333

Reminder - my requests are always open, please keep sending them! <3

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The most attentive partner you could ever find, he will pay you 100% of his attention no matter the topic

He never wishes for you to experience the loneliness and isolation he felt with your father, EVER

As a result of this, expect the sweetest and most heartfelt gifts to be hurriedly placed into your hands before he runs off to distract himself from the blush blooming across his face

Every single present you receive from him will be extremely intricate and personal, remembering childhood stories you've recalled, or things you wished for years ago

"I know you said it about six months ago, but..."

He does not forget nor ignore a single detail about you

Despite his sheepish nature, the longer you're with him, the more adorable outbursts occur

By this I mean sudden bursts of bubbling confidence as he explains something he's passionate about, or witty jokes he's thought of

"Well, actually, did you know that technically, humans can create their own venom? So, it starts with....."

Although he may be embarrassed and retreat into himself afterwards, any sign of encouragement from you would melt his heart, prompting him to keep opening himself up to you

Another thing that would simply make his heart implode, is if you took interest in his passions - allowing him to teach you simple chords on the piano, or help him produce a few basic chemical reactions down in the lab

Just showing care for the things he adores would result in him losing his mind, since very few people in his past had taken any true interest in him, at all

He would be the most gentle and patient teacher ever, placing soft kisses on your knuckles when you succeeded in getting a melody correct on the piano, or a peck on the cheek when you have accomplished anything

In terms of love languages, I am certain that Wylan actually uses all of them... <3

Although he can be nervous to express his feelings through words, he is a poetic and creative soul, so given time to grow comfortable with you, whispers of "I love you," or "I'm so lucky to have found you," would slowly slip into conversations

Quality time is a given for Wylan, since he's never had someone who wants his company for long, again wishing to shelter you from the pain he has experienced himself - expect many quiet evenings by the fireplace where he crafts melodies on the flute, and you bake or read in comfort

Once time has gifted the boy more confidence, expect his touch to increase swiftly, never wanting to let you go - soft brushes of your shoulders as you walk side-by-side, fingers gently interlocked, brushes of stray locks as the breeze shifts them...

He would do anything for you, no matter what you ask of him, so always expect your home to be spotless, your chores already completed when you turn to do them - with Wylan its very unlikely you will need to do much at all, he is so attentive

As mentioned earlier, gift giving is definitely one of his favorite ways to express his love, clearly portraying his heart to you when his words may fail him

In terms of what he wants and needs in a relationship? I think his standards would be on the floor, merely needing your presence in a room to comfort him

However once he realizes that you reciprocate his acts of love? Well I think he'd be completely at your mercy by that point

Although it may take some time to stop his fretting and insecurities, once he accepts that he doesn't just have to give, but he can receive love back, he is the happiest he has ever been in his life

With your love and affection, he would absolutely thrive, becoming a more confident and strong version of himself - slowly stripping him of his nervous behaviour and allowing his true self to shine more often

To me, a relationship with Wylan would be a gentle, affectionate, and peaceful experience - both partners being showered in love constantly

Being with him is like having a personal ray of sunshine, who would express his love for you in any way he can <3

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p.s ~ any reposts help me infinitely!! ^^

[prince-liest]

I feel like this is a risky question but if you don’t want to answer you know what to do. Reading 666 I questioned so many things on love and relationships that I’d already started to question before, but not to such extent. Inevitably this led to a talk with my psychologist (you know how people joke “my therapist will hear about you” well yeah that happened) and asked her what’s the difference between romantic and platonic love if we exclude social expectations. To this she replied it’s sexual chemistry you can have with more than one person, and nothing more. Beside that, it’s technically still just “platonic”. The more I think about it the more sense it makes. In which case, I wanna ask if you agree as an aroace, and in the terms of 666 does that technically mean Alastor loves Vox in that sense? I think you’ve said before he wouldn’t go as far with anyone else, so I guess I’m asking you if he feels genuine sexual chemistry with him, because I do have a hard time figuring that out while reading (unreliable narrator is my enemy) and most of the time I’m even more confused than Vox is on how much Alastor is enjoying anything sex related

I have a couple of things to say about this one, haha. It was interesting to think about, and I'm admittedly more delighted than I should be that I've made it into someone's therapy session, hahaha.

Firstly, I disagree with your psych about how to define romantic love and I think the same would go for a ton of people both aro and allo. "Friends with benefits" is a known concept that is different from "romantic partner" for a reason, and I don't think we'd have so many "we started out friends with benefits but, oh no, we caught feelings down the line, how unexpected!" romance plotlines if friends with benefits was the same thing as a romance apart from social expectations. Also, this way of describing non-platonic love makes it impossible for non-aro ace people to love romantically purely by definition, and I think many non-aro ace folks would disagree with that.

Secondly, Alastor isn't sexually attracted to Vox in 666 regardless. He enjoys the things they do, which is very different. Not to get too clinical about it, but he doesn't even tend to experience sexual arousal unless they're getting up to the very specific type of acts that he's personally into, which is why every time Alastor is taking on the dominant role his internal narration is pretty much just going on about wanting to eat Vox whole - it's entirely a non-sexual sadism thing for him, even if Vox is still getting off. It's possible to enjoy sexual activities for reasons other than sexual gratification, and that's about 80% of what Alastor gets out of their encounters.

If you want to see what it looks like when I write from the POV of a character who is sexually attracted to their partner as a point of comparison, I recommend reading How to Bag an Angel: Take That, Depression! and then contrasting that to Alastor's internal narrative in the 666 chapter where he fucks Vox. But as a straight answer, I write Alastor as a character who sometimes gets off on being forced into submission/humiliation, and not really all that much else.

I think defining romantic vs platonic feelings can be very personal, and both psychologists and philosophers have been trying to do it for ages, so it's something that you kind of have to define for yourself - but that's my view on it as pertains to this fic, at least! I hope that was helpful!

[stellar-constellations]

Hi! I just wanted to let you know that I binged your Star Patient series in one go and I love how you write! I was so immersed I actually got so disappointed when I realized I hit the end of the uploaded chapters haha. I'm really loving Reader's character in terms of how she deals with the verrrrry questionable obstacles coming her way, girlie needs a break to just cuddle it out with Andrew or something. Anyway yeah I just wanted to drop by and let you know I'm absolutely eating your writing :D

Thank you so much! It means so much to know people enjoy the personality I chose for reader! I honestly love writing her.

I didn't want a Mary Sue type of reader, or a reader who just seems like a replacement of Ashley (I'm getting real tired of seeing these rip-offs of Ashley, she has her own charm nobody can compete with).

I wanted a reader with her own psychological issues and problems, this series is for Andrew, who is from the psychological game genre! It only made sense having a unique character to go with him! I wanted to match the game's elements and have the reader just like it; battling with her morals and if what she's doing is right, just in a different type of context and setting.

Reader's obstacles and drama in her life is just crazy, but we embrace the crazy. It'll be boring just reading the same thing you've already seen inside of the TCOAAL game, so I wanted to flesh out my own plot and characters. Reader might not be everyone's cup of tea, but she's mine and I love her.

Honestly, I'm still trying to understand Andrew's personality because of how complex it is (I simp for this man so hard, we need more fics of him). Andrew is such a pain in the ass to write sometimes, but I really love him for it, so please bear with me if he seems out of character, because he is! He's my own version of Andrew I wrote for this story, so he's not going to be canon, just like how the timeline and characters aren't canon either.

She really does need to sit back and take a breather with Andrew, but her trust issues refuse to and we'll see why in later chapters~

I've been hinting the introduction of a new character, and chapter 6 will have plenty hints of that, so I'm really excited for their eventual release since it'll really spice up the story and characters. It's a yandere story, after all.

Slight spoiler for chapter 6 down below, if you didn’t already piece this out:

I don't know if anyone has pieced this out yet, but our reader is bipolar (hence part of the psychological aspects of her), and it's something we'll see more of in chapter 6 and onwards. I'm going to do my absolute best to not make her a stereotype of the typical bipolar stereotype (0-100 real fast, sudden mood shifts, etc). I don't want it to feel like anybody is being targeted or portrayed inaccurately, nor to do I want it to feel as the disorder is glamorized/romantized. I want reader to feel like a real person, just like how disorders (especially mental) are real too.

I'm definitely going to have to update my warnings because I'll be honest, the plot is being written as I write along and I don't want to trigger anyone or have unsuspecting readers read something they weren't expecting, so make sure to reread my warnings when chapter 6 is out!

I genuinely didn't believe many people would care much about this series, and I wrote it for fun, but it's such a wonderful surprise seeing people engage in my stories and ideas, you're apart of this journey just as much as I am.

Chapter 6 is currently at 6,000+ words and still has a lot more to go through, so it'll be a long chapter! Thank you my stars, for your support, patience, and giving me motivation!

The Andrew "Andy" Graves complete masterlist

Inbox is currently OPEN for questions about the story and new plotlines/ideas, temporarily closed for requests!

[chaifootsteps]

(long ask, sorry - there was a lot of unpack)

I read the fix-it fic (it's very cute and wholesome!) and looked at the comments expecting to see a few flames or people disagreeing with the premise, but it's an out and out dogpile in there.

it's so ugly to treat someone just writing a vent fic like that, & they must have been actively looking for people daring to criticize Viv given that there's nothing in the tags to suggest it

also like, one of the flamers being like 'how can you say Viv and Raph didn't handle the topic of SA well but still say people are entitled to like the episode or find it cathartic? if people like it and you recognize that, that proves Viv and Raph handled the topic well!'

which is like, no. that's not remotely what they were saying or how it works. they're just giving grace to people who got something out of it, but they still think the depiction and handling of the topic as a whole was bad themselves. being compassionate for someone else's take on media & their feelings doesn't objectively prove that take is correct, they're just making space for other opinions in a way a lot of these 'it was handled well, end of discussion' type people aren't

it's such an all or nothing, combative way of thinking about art, that if you dislike it you must also call everyone who likes it stupid or something otherwise it means you secretly recognize it's good or some nonsense like that. that and it's just populism - if some people like it that means it's objectively good. which is funny because usually we treat something everyone likes as just 'having mass appeal' not 'high art'.

but I guess when people get terminally online they assume the vote of the majority is correct - it reminds me of this one debate about something pewdiepie did (I think it was an edgy joke or something, I'm not interested in relitigating it, it's just an example) where one of his supporters claimed 'we've [already framing a constructed audience] already decided he's innocent because the amount of support/likes he got on a response to [insert controversy here]'. it's literally the logic/rhetoric of 'if the mob decides something is good, it's good' which is horrifying logic and has been used to justify any number of irl awful things. but I digress

you could just as easily argue it the other way - if someone likes the scene but makes space for criticism of it, does that automatically make the criticism right?

also like - there's so much evidence in those comments that people do not understand what SA is. like so many people have this conception that SA is the same as rape - like, unless there was penetration of some kind no assault happened. but like if you actually look at the legal definition of SA, multiple places define it as

1 did person A touch person B? 2 did person B not want to be touch and person A should have reasonably understood that? 3 then it was sexual assault

dragging someone into a room while they yell and plead and say no is sexual assault, even if they got away before they were penetrated. being set upon and kissed and groped by a crowd of people is sexual assault, even if they also were not penetrated (and given Blitzo's dialogue there it's doubtful)

Sir Pent was SA'd, Moxxie was SA'd

anyone who has been held down or groped against their will but was rescued or escaped was sexually assaulted. sexually assault can include rape, but it doesn't always

we desperately need better literacy around this, it's legit disturbing to see how many people will pull the 'well technically the show doesn't mock SA because [insert logic solely reliant on the idea that Sir Pent and Moxxie were not SA'd]'. & it's such a revealing line of debate because they know they can't argue whether or not the show is making light of sensitive topics (it absolutely is) so instead they do the internet thing of making the next argument - they claim no, this wasn't SA and demand people debate them on those terms instead. it's falling into their trap because the issue behind that is the one they don't want to talk about - that Viv does not know how to handle this topic with the slightest bit of sensitivity

(tangent but back when HB aired I didn't judge Stolas as harshly for the full moon deal mostly for the tone the show had set up, if that makes sense? I thought the show wanted us to understand that Stolas and most of the cast were all terrible people and that was the entire 'joke' of the show. that Stolas definitely did a bad thing but the show was more interested in dark humor and the audience just kind of had to meet it where it was at. when they started moving towards there being dramatic consequences in Ozzie's I still though the show understood Stolas was a bad person, only now they were actually paying off a dramatic plot point they'd set up so he would actually have to grow and change. Then season 2 happened and the show is insisting he never did anything wrong, he's perfect, etc. and everything that happened in season 1 looks way worse by comparison. it was already bad, but I thought the writers understood that. they don't. instead they've engaged in the most laughable, embarassingly written domestic violence storyline I think I've ever seen in any media, ever, just to get him off the hook for anything he's done. do I respect the opinions of people who find him standing up to Stella cathartic? yes. does that automatically mean those people are right and it's good writing, actually? no. hard no. a million times no. survivors of dv, especially male ones, are often starved of media representation. I want them to feel seen. it doesn't stop me thinking they deserve far better than being represented by a terribly written character like Stolas, who himself is accidentally the show's best representation of a convincing abuser, but that's a rant for another time)

also also, it's kind of annoying that A03 allows guests to post under any handle instead of assigning a random one, because now if anyone points to AyyLmao that it's unhinged behavior to try to police fics people post on the Organization for Transformative Works (the clue's in the name what fanfiction is for!) he can just claim someone tried to frame him, even if there's plenty of reason to suspect he would totally do that (some of the more hateful bigoted flames strike me as exactly that - going as far as possible with it to be able to turn around and say 'look how hard the Viv haters want to frame me! look how cartoonishly bigoted they make me out to be!'

this is so deeply bizarre to me. I've been in fandoms where the media in question is less than perfect and fix-its exist for entire arcs of shows and everyone else is happy to be like 'I see why you had a problem with this even if I think it was OK or not a big deal', or 'I don't see the problem at all but I'm just going to let you vibe like an adult would do'. and the same with character shilling fics, I'm old enough to know that the best solution for fanfic or transformative works you don't agree with is to just click off. but some HH/HB fans are actively out to create a high control group where any criticism must be policed. if I ever get annoyed enough by HH/HB to make my own vent fic, I'm posting it under anon and with comments moderated. I'm not interested in providing an open forum for people to send me hate for a show that is far from worth defending (and even if it was, who cares? they ought to be able to get on with their day if their fave show is so obviously above criticism)

last point, sorry for the rant - it's kind of laughable to me that the author in the comments provided a long, objective list of what Viv and Raph have been doing that anyone can check and all of which happened publically, because they did it publically, and I don't recall seeing many comments in that thread attempting to respond to any of it; it just got ignored. it's pretty funny they simultaneously want to act like Viv is the victim of unfair hate campaigns when she's actively cultivated a fandom that attracts people like them, who bully people to the point they fear making even the mildest critiques. like you want to act like Viv is some bullied saintlike professional, but can you imagine the showrunner of any much bigger TV show encouraging the worst elements of their fandom to the point that said worst elements think harassing an SA survivor in the comments section of a fanfiction where they process their feelings about how lousy the show is in handling SA, and trying to claim said showrunner is still a professional?

to repurpose a point Viv herself made, a professional would know that any show with more than a cult following will attract criticism. a professional would not encourage people like AyyLmao and Norry, they would shut that shit down and know to leave the writers of a fanfic a couple hundred people at most will see that's dealing with a topic sensitive to them, in peace

No apologies needed, it was an excellent ask!

It's absolutely insane that any of this happened. In all my years of moving through some pretty aggressive fandoms and seeing (and writing) some pretty contentious fics for them, never have I seen anyone dogpiled like this just for writing a small, intensely personal fix-it fic. It's just beyond disgusting.

[thecarnivorousmuffinmeta]

Hi Muffin, when you were writing The heart of the world, did you do the world building first and then the characters? Or was the other way around? I would like to know how did you make the world of your story coherent and what was your inspiration. Greetings and good luck in your writing.

Ooh, thanks for the praise!

Characters or World First

Lord, very much the characters first.

I'm very much a character/story driven writer where to me the world, while neat, needs to fit the story/how the characters should progress as people and what they learn. Also helping that it was based on a fic I'd written that had to change for obvious reasons and also because there were a lot of things in the HP version that I had to smash with a hammer to make work or I just didn't like.

How Come Up with the World

The story being what it is, there needed to be a very well known genre and setting and tropes that the reader's presumably familiar with so that Lily can buck the rules without my having to go to into depth over what the rules are supposed to be.

We also needed a concept of a 'real' world, multiple identities, and various other things to get at a lot of the themes I wanted/still want to get at in the future books.

Way back in the day I'd come up with two options I was seriously contemplating: superhero style universe or high fantasy.

I ended up going the high fantasy route and very purposefully inspired by The Lord of the Rings as all high fantasy is. This gives a familiar enough setting that people generally know what to expect from it/have a general understanding of what it's supposed to look like.

Beyond that, coming up with the elves was pretty early on (everyone needs elves) though which elves and what they do and what the purpose is was fairly late. The idea of a quest, too, rather than a boarding school type situation was also fairly early as again it's something almost every high fantasy series does: you're supposed to go get the MacGuffin and not question it.

Basically, by knowing what I needed to about who the characters are, where they're going, and what they need to do, I was able to set up the universe such that it would best help tell that story.

And in terms of keeping it consistent, for me, it helps to think logically in terms of "here's what I know about the world, the people, etc." and thinking out what that means in terms of culture, technology, and how people will act.

(There's also the fact that, in this story at least, some things are purposefully whack/don't make much sense and there's always that thing called Rabbit loitering ominously in the wings.)

[languajix]

Regarding Hold every memory au!

Since Ghost in this au is shown to have mystic powers and can actively harness it (ie: the geometric shapes on his arms in the first fic and the threads of his bros) what else can he do aside from threads? Can he do smth similar to Donnie’s Ninpo if he pushed himself ? And how did he get that mystic stuff? Did he always have it but never manifested as strongly due to the nature of the 2003 verse (like the dragon thing ) or is this current mystic power a result of his long term exposure in the 2018 verse? Also how do you think his bros will react to their bro’s Mystic powers that he definitely didn’t have before?

Ps: I love your AU so much. Your fics are so well written and characterisation is so good. Ghost in the shell is such a well written story but it’s so, so very sad 😭 its makes me so happy to see a world where is Ghost happier out there. Also sorry for the long ask I’m just extra curious, Ghost being actively aware and sorta using the mystic energy inside him is so interesting and has so much potential hehe. Like imagine a scenario where Ghost/Don in a fit of protective rage either cuz of the tots or his bros or both does a boom of mystic and everyone goes HUH??

Hello!!

I want to start by saying the usual disclaimer that anything I'm about to say applies solely to Hold Every Memory, because the more this AU grows, the more of my own ideas and wishes and things get fed into it.

Also, very little is set into absolute stone until it appears in a HEM story for sure - a lot of the time, as I'm writing, things will spin a little differently than I expect because they need to for character or plot reasons, or words will randomly appear on the screen and I'll learn how things work directly from my subconscious, which is exciting. But still! I have been thinking about this stuff, so I'm really happy to have the opportunity to ramble :D

And don't apologize for the long ask! I loved it! I just hope you don't mind a looooong reply. Lots of stuff in here that some might consider spoilery, as a heads up!

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I think Don had a groundwork of some different type of mystic potential from his own universe, but environmental exposure to empyrean/mystics over the years, maybe more direct exposure courtesy of Big Mama?, brought it from a latent capability to something much closer to the surface, significantly strengthened it, and shaped it a little to fit his new universe. Connecting to his brothers in the Battle Nexus, that rush of soul energy and powerful love, unlocked it! Battle Nexus went boom.

I think at a base level, he's capable of doing standard mystic stuff - activating and using mystic weapons and devices, like how Splinter could use the ōdachi in "Battle Nexus New York," for example. Casting some spells, too, and using common mystic techniques. If he were to practice or be trained specifically in the use of mystics in battle, he could use it to boost his speed and strength. He'll never be as powerful as a Hamato, though, with that well of ninpō power at their disposal.

Creating the threads wasn't any sort of innate, specialized ability at the time. It was an act of desperation. Don's burst of incredible willpower in that moment shaped his soul and his suddenly active mystic powers in ways they weren't originally made to be used. Over time, though, like stretching a muscle, the threads become central to his mystic 'specialization,' as it were. So if Leo = portals, Raph = energy projections of himself, Don =… connection? Possibly?

(In SAINW, there's a moment where Michelangelo mentions that "without you, it just didn't work," framing Donny as the lynchpin keeping his family together. (I do think it could have happened if any of them had disappeared, but let's focus on Donny for the angst and the parallels here.) And in HEM, Don is the one tying together his old family and his new family. Always at the center.)

If he wasn't constantly stretched between realities and everyone was in the same universe, he'd always know where they were, instinctively. They could be across town or half a world away, but if Don thought about them, his head would turn unerringly in that precise direction. It might include some amount of empathy/telepathy too.

One thing I'm solid on is that he has to come into contact, spiritually or physically, to someone to develop a connection, a thread. It might happen quite quickly and almost thoughtlessly with the counterparts of all his old family and friends upon meeting them, and for any new friends he meets it might happen once he truly considers them family.

(Which makes me think of how funny it would be if he met Foot Recruit and found himself with a spontaneous thread to her, too - who the heck is she supposed to be??? Too late now, though, she's family, whether anybody including her wants her to be or not. Assigned Splinterson-Hamato At First Contact.)

Can he use powers similar to Donnie? He might be a teeny tiny bit of a technopath! I'd like to think that was one of the potential directions his mystic powers could have headed before the threads threw them out of wack. Infusing portals with mystic energy, a little boost when hacking the EPF's bank accounts, etc. Very little things, but enough that he and Donnie can have a little similarity to bond over as a treat.

As for surprising his brothers with his mystic powers, finding out that he had landed in a universe with witches and yokai and superpowers blew their minds, but it was all wrapped up in the overwhelming difficulty of processing that he was alive at all. They know he's been using mystics in the development of his more recent portal attempts, vaguely, but they for sure don't realize/understand the extent of what he can do. There's really no reason for him to use mystic powers in the astral plane, nothing for him to do with them and the real risk of unbalancing the delicate threads, so he just doesn't. I think seeing him use mystic powers for real would delight Mike to no end, all surface-level envy and deep excitement, Raph would think them awesome and possibly want to spar while Don is mystic boosted to see what he can do, and Leo might be proud and fascinated and maybe a little quietly jealous. If - and this is really just something I'm tossing around for fun - if Don could actually pool and distribute mystic energy through his threads, those soul-to-soul connections, then they could all benefit and get a level-up, so no jealousy for long. Honestly I think all the brothers would be super cool with Rise style mystic powers but Mike would make me a little nervous, haha

---

When I was originally starting to bounce this whole thing around in my head, I ended up with a little example snippet of what his powers could look like in practice. The telepathy/empathy bits, at least.

P.S. Thank you so much!!! It sends me over the moon, like full on walking on air for days, to hear when people like my writing style and characterization. I'm still new to putting myself out there in this way, so I stress out over it all way more than I should, and getting this kind of message makes it all worth it :D

I love GitS to death and this AU is born out of the most incredible affection for it. I wouldn't change a single thing about any of it even if I could, all those aching bruises and all, but writing an alternate universe branch where Everything's Beautiful and Very Little Hurts is just cathartic as heck. I'm just glad reading this AU is scratching the same itch for some people that writing it has been!! Because it really is a joy to write.

[oonajaeadira]

State of the WIP Address

Okay, y'all, I've been in a really weird place where I've been avoiding...pretty much a lot of stuff. Dunno if I have to talk to my doctor about upping my meds or what, but this is why I actually went on them--my depression manifests not in laziness, but avoiding things I need to do and things I actually WANT to do. Then I don't do them and it all starts building up. And then the to do pile feels insurmountable, like I'll never get to finish all these wonderful things. So I just...freeze up and roll over. Like a fainting goat. You'd think I'd be like "yay! lookit all the things to look forward to! I have years ahead of me full of things I really want to do! I should never be bored again!" But no. Can't do them Right Now? Fainting goat. It's weirdo. We've all got our weirdo and this is mine.

I only mention it here because I do State of the WIP Address to be accountable. Now, the weird thing is, I don't actually expect anyone to read these posts--they're boring and personal and totally for my own motivation. I just know myself and know if I put something out there, I'll feel bad if I don't do it and that should motivate me to actually do it.

But here's the thing....it doesn't work anymore. I'm no longer fulling for my own snake oil. The placebo has run out. If I know it's inconsequential, then my brain tricks me into thinking that I'm accountable to no one. And, in reality, it's true that I'm actually accountable to no one so the trick doesn't work.

Anyway. Welcome to Adira's brain where she finds her own thought patterns a fascinating psychological study and the lab results are inconclusive.

So I'mma try to twist the experiment a bit. Rather than list the things I know I can't get to right this second and feel bad about it, we're gonna let promises go and do it this way. It's not interesting to anyone but me and anyone who nerds out on process. But rather than listing the things I'm not working on, I'll talk about the ones I am, how it's going, what's in my craw about it, and maybe in my ramblings I'll clear the gears to start rolling again.

This isn't interesting to anyone but me unless you really wanna see how seriously I take my fic writing. Cringe if you want. I'm just being honest with myself. My fic isn't high art, but as with anything I create, I can't half-ass it either. It's "be satisfied with it on my terms" or bust.

STATE OF THE WIPS

I have one million projects happening, but these are the pieces I'm actively thinking about and working on at the moment.

SECRET SANTA Where it's at: I'm writing for someone I think is a wonderful person and want to do right by them, so the pressure's on. But at the same time, it's not. Because I know how accepting and lovely the person is and they gave me a lot of prompts and options and like a lot of the things I do and seem to like a lot of the types of things I like to write. I also know that this doesn't have to be over-complicated, that I can write my heart and it will please both of us. While I haven't actually opened up a doc to start, I know that it's the type of thing that if I have a little uninterrupted block of time, I can just sit down and it will flow. I won't say much about it here, but I will say that while it can 100% be read as standalone, it hits on a character/series I'm currently writing and acts as a kind of prequel, a reason for loving the reader as he does. It's something that is kind of missing in the planned series and I think this would be a nice opportunity to explore it before moving forward (and maybe helping propel that series a little) while also touching on one of the characters my giftee likes, a genre they are interested in that I hadn't considered with this character, and it will have a tone I think they'll appreciate. So while it's for them and being written with their likes in mind, I thank them, because it's also a little gift for me and my yearnings. What's stopping me: Time constraints and general anxiety.

TROPE FIC: MODERN DOM!PERO Where it's at: This one got a little sloppy and I'm working on it. I've been following @max--phillips' entries about what defines certain types of kinks and while my thoughts on dom!Pero started as true dom, they swung wrong when I started working on this, and now I'm just thinking myself back to the definition of dominant. And while I may still be missing the mark, it's helping me to think more about how I want to explore and frame this dynamic. It's also giving me a little trouble in that it's not coming out chronologically which causes me to waste time jumping around and retrofitting things. What's stopping me: I put this one on hold to start prioritizing the Secret Santa piece.

TROPE FIC: SEX POLLEN!OBERYN Where it's at: This piece is flowing chronologically. It's going to be longer than I anticipated and the first draft is about 1/3 done. I already know that after the first draft I'll have to do some shaping and I think maybe I got overwhelmed with the task I set for myself and that triggered my avoidance. I know where it's going, I'm excited for it, it will flow easily if I let it, I just have to do it! What's stopping me: I put this one on hold because I got distracted by tasty Pero thoughts. I blame @perotovar for the thots, but not the stopping. That's all on me.

TROPE FIC: ALPHA!JAVI Where it's at: I'm about 1/2 done with the first draft. Again, this one will be longer (and also more angsty) than I anticipated. I love love love where it's going though and reader and Javi's history is beautiful and sad and complex; I really love that half. I'm just now switching into the modern day section of it and have to make a few decisions about how I actually want it to go. My mind is over-complicating the story and I'm trying to wrestle it down a softer path. What's stopping me: I got distracted by the Oberyn story which is why this one's on hold and now this is all Inceptioning on itself.

GOOD. THINGS. TAKE. TIME. Where it's at: The asks are all sorted, there are only a few more sessions left before chapter 4. I just have to write it. What's stopping me: Here's the thing about PATS. If I was out for notes, I'd be pounding on this series, because it's my most popular one. But... really, I'm just here to dream up stories I like to tell. I put PATS down not consciously and not because I don't love him, but I got excited by other ideas. I want to finish it because I don't like having a bunch of unfinished projects lying around, but I also don't want that to be my #1 motivator for writing him. I want to enjoy it. I did enjoy putting the latest installment out, but I also don't feel like I'm letting anyone down if I don't hurry it, just because engagement is low. Again, I'm not here for the notes, I truly love the connection and the squeeing and sharing a yearn. We're all so busy now that it's tough to get to everything and the mutual timing is a bit off. That's okay. It's planned out, it'll get done, I just have to do it when I'm feeling it.

LEAVE OFF YOUR WANDERING: WINTER Where it's at: Finished plan. Yet to begin writing. What's stopping me: I was wrestling with this one for a bit because I had two directions it could go--soft and fluffy without much meat, or weaving all the details together and serving a story that gets rather dark, a little sad, and serves as a fix it. On one hand, I felt like I would be betraying readers by not keeping the euphoric escape. But I would also feel like I built this whole backstory that needed to manifest itself in a test for Joel and Meadowlark, as well as the fact that--other than backstories--there hasn't been any canon hardship or violence displayed. It's like I'm missing a huge chunk of who Joel and Meadowlark are. In the end, that's where the story wants to go, so I'm going there. And I have to not think about what anyone else wants, just me. Not just for selfish reasons, but I know that's when I do my best. It doesn't mean there won't still be fluff and a happy ending. It just means I have to write darkness and perhaps it will serve me better to do it in the season in which it takes place.

[gothcsz]

𝑻𝒉𝒐𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉𝒇𝒂𝒓𝒆 / Chapter XI.

GIF by tomshiddles

PAIRING: Javier Peña x Original Female Character

SUMMARY: Truths are unveiled and Javi begins to regret ending things with our MC.

WORD COUNT: ~7.4k

RATING: 18+ Explicit topics such as sex, drugs, murder, the occult, religion, cannibalism and other triggering matters will be explored in this body of work. Minors DNI.

CHAPTER SPECIFIC TAGS: discussions of religion, light smut but not between our main couple (rip), another case of detective!javi, lotta plot stuff/exposition dump, other things that I'm probably forgetting.

DISCLAIMER/WARNINGS: The Javier Peña referenced in this body of work is solely based off of the character that appears in Netflix’s Narcos and not the actual person. Very canon divergent and I will tweak things as I see fit to compliment the narrative of this story. While efforts have been made to be accurate in terms of canon timeline, a lot of details will be fictionalized.

A/N: hola primas we're back again with another installment of wtf is going on in this fic?! lmfao i had a little too much fun writing this chapter so i hope u all enjoy it and thank u for reading <3 i may or may not be an august stan idk how we feeling chat?! as always feel free to drop any type of feedback/support on this blog or ao3. i'd really appreciate it <3

♰  read on ao3. ♰

♰  playlist | pinterest | series masterlist ♰

“A woman, a mother, a mother is a very special thing and other than the Lord Jesus Christ, I think that a mother is one of the most precious gifts that God gives to this world because the mother is the one who loves the Lord and always seems to be there when we need her. A mother is a very special thing. A mother is a very special thing.” –– Family Tree (Intro), Ethel Cain.

“No peekin’, okay?” August whispers against her neck, his voice filled with playful insistence.

Paloma can’t help but laugh, the sound light in the quiet night. “That’s the third time you’ve told me that. I promise, I ain’t lookin’!” she assures him, her eyes squeezed shut and her free hand covering them for good measure. Her heart races with anticipation, wondering what surprise he has in store for her. She can feel his warmth and the gentle pressure of his hand guiding her forward, heightening her excitement.

Sneaking away from home had been surprisingly easy. She told her father she was going to spend the night at Sloane’s and would be back the next morning, not really feeling like doing her usual show at the bar. At first he had been skeptical, but a few well-placed batts of her eyelashes and a practiced pout later, his resolve softened and he relented with his usual father spiel. She knows she was pushing her luck, but the thrill of the evening and the promise of August’s plans makes it all worthwhile.

She was also cautious not to reveal the location of Sloane’s new home. Instead, she told him that she was just going to the motel in town, maintaining the illusion that her friend still resides there. This little deception is necessary to keep him at ease, even though it means bending the truth.

Now, she finds herself being led to a mystery spot where he has prepared their long-awaited date. She has no idea what to expect, but it doesn’t really matter. The mere fact that he has put so much effort into planning this is more than she can ask for.

As they walk, she feels the summer evening breeze brushing against her skin and the soft rustling of leaves underfoot. The night is alive with the distant chirping of crickets and the faint, sweet scent of blooming flowers.

“Just a little further,” he says softly, his voice laced with a hint of excitement that matches her own. Paloma nods, biting her lip to contain her smile. She trusts him completely, knowing that whatever awaited her would be worth the secrecy and the suspense.

They come to a halt, and he gently squeezes her hand before letting go and moving to stand behind her.

“M’kay, you can open ‘em now,” his southern drawl is like syrup in her ear, his breath warm and inviting. She blinks her eyes open, her vision adjusting to the soft glow, and she gasps softly as she takes in the scene before her.

They’re in the greenhouse, transformed into a romantic haven. Various candles are scattered around, casting a warm, flickering light that dances across the glass walls and lush greenery. In the center of the space, a picnic blanket is spread out on the floor, adorned with an assortment of dishes that she assumes make up their dinner. Cutlery and plates are neatly set aside, everything meticulously arranged.

“Oh, August…” she breathes, her voice filled with awe. Her hand instinctively comes up to clutch her chest then she turns to face him, eyes glistening with adoration. Unable to contain her feelings, she pulls him in for a sweet, lingering kiss; a silent thank you for his thoughtfulness.

“You like it?” he asks with a hint of nervousness. She takes a step forward, her eyes wide as she absorbs the sheer beauty of the setup.

The moonlight streams gently through the skylight window, casting a silvery glow over everything. She almost pinches herself to make sure she isn’t dreaming, the scene is so perfect.

“Like it? I love it! You did this all yourself?” she exclaims in genuine admiration. The flowers that surround them appear even more delicate under the soft glow of the candlelight. Unable to resist, she leans forward to sniff at the peonies nearby, their sweet fragrance filling her nose.

“Had some help, but for the most part, yeah,” He replies with a modest smile. “Here, come sit.” He beckons her over, and she complies eagerly, settling herself next to him and smoothing out the skirt of her dress.

“Well, you outdid yourself. This is the sweetest thing ever,” she leans her body weight against her palm, gazing up at him with a gentle, appreciative stare.

“Let this be the first of many sweet things I do for you, pretty girl. You deserve it,” he replies, winking. Her blush deepens and she finds herself fidgeting with the hem of her dress, her heart fluttering at his words.

Their date goes effortlessly, filled with lighthearted flirting and laughter. He boasts about his cooking skills, and Paloma playfully challenges him, only to be quickly proven wrong when she takes her first bite of the lasagna he’s made. It’s fucking delicious.

She feels a sense of enchantment growing with every passing moment, the romantic setting amplifying her emotions. She mentally chides herself for not pursuing him sooner, for wasting time on the mustached older man who had occupied her thoughts for far too long.

They finish their meal, and just when she thinks the evening couldn’t get any better, he pulls out a small angel cake with the perfect arrangement of strawberries and whipped cream from the picnic basket.

“How did you know this is my favorite dessert of, like, all time?!” she exclaims, eyes wide with delight.

They share a knowing look before answering simultaneously, “Sloane.” Her smile widens, her cheeks aching from how the expression has hardly left her face since she arrived.

August scoops a spoonful of the cake and brings it up to her lips, his eyes twinkling with playful intent. She opens her mouth, maintaining eye contact as she takes the sweet dessert.

She moans softly as the flavors meld in her mouth, the light, airy cake complemented perfectly by the sweetness of the fresh strawberries. “Delicious,” she murmurs, savoring every bit.

He watches her, a satisfied and boyish grin on full display. “I’m glad you like it,” his voice is low, seductive. He takes a bite himself, nodding in appreciation of the treat they’re sharing.

They take turns feeding each other, and she is completely absorbed in his company. He makes her laugh, his eyes swimming with mischief and warmth, and she feels a connection she hadn’t thought possible.

She looks at him, beaming with gratitude and something more profound. “Tonight was amazing, August. You’ve really made me feel special.”

He reaches out, moving a strand of her hair that had fallen forward aside. “You are special, Paloma. And s’just the beginnin’.” He holds her stare briefly and she softens, “Night’s not over yet, girl. There’s still somethin’ I want to show ya.” His words promise more surprises, and she feels her excitement renew, eager to see what else he has for her.

“I’ll be right back,” leaning in to place a tender kiss on her lips, he tastes a hint of the whipped cream lingering there and it takes all his willpower to pull away.

She sighs wistfully, watching him leave. To pass the time, she busies herself by cleaning up. She carefully moves the empty containers into the basket and stacks their dirty plates before pushing them aside.

He returns not too long after, holding what looks like a photo album. Her curiosity piques immediately. “What’s that?” she asks inquisitively, shifting in her seat so her legs are tucked beneath her as he lowers himself beside her.

“A scrapbook…” He trails off, and she can sense the nerves radiating from him. Her brows cinch together, waiting for him to continue.

“‘Fore I show you this… I need you to understand how unique you truly are.” He sets the book down between them, his hand coming up to stroke her cheek affectionately as he gazes deeply into her dark eyes. She doesn’t know what to say to this, so she remains quiet but offers him a reassuring look that encourages him to go on.

“Knew it from the moment I set eyes on ya. At the time, I didn’t know what it was. I jus’ assumed it was another crush on a pretty girl. But then I got to know you, and slowly but surely… everything started makin’ sense.”

There’s an unidentifiable tone in his voice, one that makes her heart beat a little faster. “What do you mean ‘started makin’ sense’?”

He takes a deep breath, his hand dropping from her face as he places the leather-bound book into her lap. The force of it feels significant, almost like it carries the gravity of his words.

“This is goin’ to be a lot, ‘n I understand if you dunno know how to process it all after I show you everythin’. But… can you promise to wait ‘till I explain ‘fore you react?” His eyes search hers, pleading for understanding and patience.

Her heart races with anticipation and uncertainty. “August, you’re scarin’ me,” she giggles nervously, her hands growing clammy at his elusive words.

He flips the book open to the first page, revealing a photograph of a group posing in front of a grand, old church. The faces in the picture seem frozen in time, their expressions filled with a mix of hope and solemnity.

“There was a group in Italy,” He begins slowly, “that believed a new age of peace ‘n tranquility was nearing. They devoted all their time and resources to prepare for it. They were convinced a woman would be the one to bring it into fruition, so they searched for her all over the world.”

He turns the page, revealing more photos of the group alongside the majestic church. The images capture moments of gatherings, rituals, and serene landscapes. she can’t help but feel a strange sense of connection to the story, though she remains unsure why he’s telling her this.

“Why are you showin’ me this?” she voices her thoughts, her curiosity mingling with apprehension.

“Because, Paloma,” He says, turning another page to reveal a faded, hand-drawn map marked with various locations, “They documented everythin’ , kept records, and followed signs. This group believed that the woman who would bring about this new age had certain qualities, certain... traits.”

Her eyes scan the map, noting how meticulously it’s marked, the sense of urgency and dedication evident in the detailed annotations. Her confusion deepens, but she remains silent, partially engrossed by the unfolding story.

He turns another page, revealing a photograph of a necklace, a delicate cross pendant with intricate engravings. “This pendant,” he continues, “was said to be a key, a symbol of her identity.”

Her heart races as her gaze falls to the piece of jewelry. She inhales sharply, her breath snagging. It’s the same pendent that had belonged to her mother. Her fingers absentmindedly go to her collarbone that’s bare since she opted out of wearing it tonight. “What does this have to do with me, August?”

He takes a deep breath, his eyes locking onto hers with an intensity that makes her pulse quicken. “The more I got to know you, the more I realized you embody everything this group was searchin’ for. Your kindness, your strength, your spirit—it all matches what they described.”

“Are you saying… you think I’m this woman they were looking for? Don’t be ridiculous––”

“Just let me finish.” He cuts her off, looking away briefly and trying to collect himself before relaying the next bit of information. “Then they found her. The woman they’d been preparin’ and searchin’ for. She lived halfway ‘cross the world in the orphanage where she was raised. After gettin’ in contact with her, she agreed to move to Europe.”

She listens intently, her body buzzing with a feeling she can’t explain as she absorbs his words. She waits patiently, her eyes fixed on him.

Another turn of the page, and this time, she gasps loudly as her eyes land on the photo. It’s her mother, clear as day. A photo she’s never seen before, but it’s undeniably Abilene Leighton. She is always told that she resembles her, but seeing her at about the same age Paloma is now is uncanny—they look identical.

“Mom…” Her voice trembles with emotion as her fingers trace the photo, tears welling up in her eyes. He watches her carefully, studying her reaction. He wants to give her a moment to process this revelation, to come to terms with the implications, but at the same time he’s eager to keep unveiling more.

“Her real name was Calmana. The women that raised her in the orphanage didn’t think she needed a surname. From the moment she arrived in their care, they knew she was special. Seemingly dropped off on their doorstep. No one ever adopted her. She was different from the others…” His voice is filled with reverence as he speaks, his words weaving a tale that feels so foreign.

Calmana? The name sends a shiver down her spine, leaving her speechless as her eyes trace every detail of the picture. There’s a haunting beauty to her mother’s image, a sense of mystery that lingers in the air.

He presses on, his tone solemn yet tinged with awe. “Don’t know how they did it, but they were able to figure out part of her family tree. Paloma… you come from a marked lineage, akin to the story of Cain and Abel.”

Her world stills, mind reeling at the magnitude of his words. Her heart pounds in her ears with a mixture of disbelief and wonder.

“According to some religious traditions, Cain and Abel had sisters,” He continues, his voice steady as he delves deeper into the mythic lore. “Calmana was the oldest daughter of Adam and Eve and, in plenty’a sources, the twin sister of Cain. Others say she was his wife. That would make her the first female human who was born naturally. You, your mother are direct descendants of somethin’ fuckin’ divine.”

Her mind spins with the implications of this revelation. The idea that her bloodline is tied to spiritual origins feels dreamlike. Fake. Isn’t everyone technically descendants of Adam and Eve? It’s what she’s been taught growing up.

But as she looks down at the picture again, she sees her mother in a new light—a woman with a story.

She can’t help the way her hand comes up to cover her mouth, overwhelmed by everything he’s saying. It feels like the ground beneath her has shifted, leaving her reeling in a sea of uncertainty. As he continues to flip through the book on her lap, showing proof of every bit of his story, she feels a rush of conflicting emotions—astonishment, skepticism, and a growing sense of unease.

It’s too confusing, it simply must not be true. Yet, with all the texts he’s had her read and all the books they’ve both bonded over, there is a nagging possibility that all this is actually real. The thought has goosebumps curling at her skin, her mind racing with a million questions and doubts.

“No, no way.” She shakes her head, her voice trembling as she moves the leather book off her lap and places it between them. She feels like she can’t breathe, despite being surrounded by fresh air and all this greenery. Every fiber of her being screams for escape, for a return to the familiar, to the world where such tales belong only in the books that she loves to read.

She quickly stands, her movements frantic as she turns to make her exit. August’s eyes widen in alarm, and he follows after her, his voice pleading as he reaches out to stop her.

“Paloma, wait––” His words are urgent, filled with desperation. “I asked you to wait ‘til I was finished to react. Please… just hear me out, ‘n then you can decide what it is that you wanna do.”

His words hang in the air, a silent plea for understanding and patience. She pauses, her heart pounding in her chest as she wrestles with her unrest. She knows she can’t simply walk away without giving him a chance to explain, to unravel… whatever the fuck this is.

Her back is to him and she wipes some of the tears that managed to spill. With a shaky breath, she turns to face him, her eyes searching his. “Okay,” she whispers, her voice barely audible above the rush of blood in her ears. “I’ll listen.”

He lets out a brief sigh of relief, his shoulders relaxing as he beckons her over again, eager to resume the exploration of the scrapbook together. She hesitantly steps over to him, her body still trembling with the heaviness of her mother’s past as she lowers herself back into a seated position on the blanket.

“Your momma… well she was the one who was supposed t’ bring this new age into order,” He explains, his tone informative, “but the group disbanded before they could follow through with it. They lost track of one another, and she ended up here in the States with a whole new life.”

“August,” she begins, her words trembling with shock, “How do you know all this?”

A silence falls over them like a veil.

“The woman that left me all this…” His voice is somber, his gaze distant as he recalls the memories. “She was part of the original group. Told me stories whenever I helped her out. At first, I thought she was some crazy old broad, so I jus’ let her talk. Then she started showin’ me photos and all kindsa crap, and that’s when I actually started payin’ attention to her ramblings.”

Her eyes widen in realization as his words sink in. The pieces of the puzzle start to click into place, connecting the dots of the journey.

“She’s the reason I started this group, s’why I started lookin’ into things on my own. She moved away abruptly, and it wasn’t ‘til I got this house and found that scrapbook that I knew why she left it all to me. She wanted me to find that woman and carry out what they couldn’t back in Rome.”

This feels like an out-of-body experience, really, as if she is standing outside of herself, watching as her mother’s past is revealed to her.

It explains so much, she thinks, her mind jumbled as she recalls all their shared memories. How she was cagey when Paloma asked about her childhood, how she was always so vigilant of her growing up. Now that she knows this new side of her mother, she doesn’t know what to make of it. The woman she thought she knew, the woman who raised her, suddenly feels like a stranger—a mysterious figure shrouded in secrets and untold stories.

Who was she, really? Did her father know all of this?

Her silence is deafening, in the air like a dense fog, and he tentatively reaches out to caress her forearm, gently urging her to look at him. She meets his gaze, her misty-eyed expression a mix of emotions—sadness, confusion, and a glimmer of something else.

“Then I found out she had passed years ago, which left you, the next in line to fulfill this… prophecy,” He continues, his voice soft yet filled with conviction.

“Me?!” She can’t help but snort, though it’s tinged with tears. The idea feels absurd, impossible.

“Yes, you, my little dove,” He replies with unwavering intensity. “I told ya you were special, ‘n you can’t sit here ‘n tell me you haven’t felt the magic that’s embedded in your bones. You’re one of a kind, Paloma. A gift to humankind that must be treasured. Think of all the pain and suffering in this world… think of how you can be the one to end it all.”

The enormity of this newfound responsibility is too big for her to fathom. She looks into his eyes, spotting the earnestness and sincerity there, and for the first time, she allows herself to entertain the possibility that maybe, just maybe, there’s truth in the stories that are intertwined with her own life.

As they sit together in the quiet of the greenhouse, surrounded by the soft glow of candlelight and the scent of flowers, she feels a sense of purpose stirring deep within her—a spark of something powerful, waiting to be unleashed upon the world.

He was right. This is a lot.

Her face must say it all because he draws nearer, enveloping her in his comforting embrace. She doesn’t move at first, but then he places a soft kiss to the crown of her head, and she lets herself go. Her shoulders drop, a heavy sigh leaving her as the weight of it all settles in her chest.

“If you need time ‘n space to process this––I understand,” he murmurs, his voice soothing. “I jus’ had to tell you, angel. Had to make sure everythin’ was alright before I dropped it on your lap. Knew if I had told you the first day we met you woulda called me crazy ‘n sent me on my way.”

“M’tempted to do that now…” she mutters jokingly against his neck, nuzzling her face there and taking a deep breath, letting his scent fill her lungs in an attempt to ground herself.

He chuckles, the sound vibrating through his chest, and she melts further into his touch. “Go ahead. Told ya you were free to do as you pleased after I was finished… ‘n well… s’all I have for ya.”

Okay, there are no more twists. That comforts her some. She pulls back to look up at him, her tear-stained cheeks and beautiful brown eyes glowing softly under the romantic lighting, making her look breathtaking. Like a true angel, one that can bring so much good into this world.

Her mind is still reeling, but in his arms, she feels a sense of security. “This is a lot to take in, August,” she whispers, her voice barely steady.

His eyes soften, and he gently brushes a strand of hair from her face again. “You’re stronger than you think, Paloma. ‘N whatever comes next, we’ll face it together. You’re not alone in this.”

His words wrap around her like a warm blanket. Much needed reassurance. She takes another deep breath, feeling the overwhelming storm of emotions begin to settle.

She leans in to press their lips together and he hesitates at first. He murmurs her name in protest, but she deepens the kiss with a sense of urgency. Her lips are soft and plump, molding against his with a fervor that he can’t resist. The heat between them is palpable, the shift in the air thick with their shared desire.

His resolve drops as he succumbs to her. It’s not long after that he’s got her spread out on the blanket, naked and his tongue buried in her cunt while her fingers tangle in his hair. 

She cries his name out while she comes, her legs trembling as he kisses his way up her body, whispering sweet affirmations and filthy promises against her skin.

You deserve the world. I’ll treat you right. You’re such a good girl.

He takes her right there, fucking her passionately. His kisses are devout, his touch tender yet insistent, as he shows her just how beautiful and remarkable she truly is. She feels utterly vulnerable, caught up in the overwhelming intensity of the moment. Every fiber of her being responds to him, her senses alight with the raw, unfiltered emotions coursing through her.

The perfect date he orchestrated was already enough to sweep her off her feet. But then he gave her more: life-altering revelation of her family history, a truth so profound it has reshaped her understanding of herself.

She clenches around him, coating his cock with her slick release as her orgasm rattles her harshly. He follows not much after, filling the condom then collapsing onto her. His weight presses her into the floor before he rolls onto his back, taking her with him so she straddles his hips. Still joined, they savor the afterglow, their breaths slowly returning to normal as their hearts pound against each other’s naked and sweat glazed chests.

Looking into his eyes, she sees a reflection of a future he envisions for them—a future where she can make a difference, bring about change, and fulfill the destiny he’s convinced she’s meant for. And in this euphoric state, with her heart and soul laid bare, she knows she’ll believe anything he tells her, because with him, anything seems possible.

The next part of Javier’s investigation involves diving deeper into Jessica Valdez’s background. She was the only one to be taken and held captive for a period of time, indicating that there is something specific about her that caused the perpetrator to deviate from his usual methods.

He isn’t sure what to expect from her family. Families react in a myriad of ways to an investigator’s presence, especially when he needs to look through personal belongings with a fresh perspective. As he arrives at the Valdez home, he prepares himself to be as sympathetic as possible, turning on his Southern charm to its full effect. To his surprise, Jessica’s parents are eager to help. This relieves him, and he can’t help but note the distinct difference between them and the Thornton family. While the death of their daughter had shattered the Thorntons, it seems to have brought the Valdez family closer together.

Mrs. Valdez guides Javier to Jessica’s room, her presence lingering at the doorway as if reluctant to leave. She offers a small, encouraging nod before stepping back, leaving him to his investigation. He surveys the room, taking in the floral pattern of the bedsheets and the posters that decorate the walls. He doesn’t find anything at first, just typical things you’d come across in a twenty something year old’s bedroom.

He can’t help but compare it to Paloma’s room, thinking about how similar yet distinctly personal each space is. Javi scoffs. No matter how hard he tries to focus, she always finds a way to sneak into his thoughts, her presence lingering like a stubborn fucking ghost.

He rummages through the vanity, but finds nothing unusual—just makeup products and other miscellaneous items. Frustrated, he stands in the middle of the room, hands resting on his narrow waist as he rolls his tongue over his teeth, deep in thought. What had the assailant seen in her that made him want to keep her captive? What did she possess that the others didn’t?

Determined to find answers, Javier makes his way to her closet. A distinct groan from the wood flooring stops him in his tracks. Intrigued, he retreats a few steps and hears it again. His brows furrow as he shifts his weight, pinpointing the source of the sound. Kneeling, he notices one of the floorboards is slightly raised compared to the rest.

His blunt fingers try to pull it free, but it doesn’t budge. He quickly goes back to the vanity, grabbing a metal nail file to help loosen the board. With some effort, he manages to detach it completely, revealing a shallow hiding spot beneath. There, lying in the small cavity, is what looks like a diary. He wastes no time in taking it into his possession.

The diary has a fragile lock, but with the nail file still in hand, he carefully jimmies it open. As the lock gives way, he flips through the pages, his eyes scanning for anything that might shed light on why Jessica was different. The entries are personal, detailing her thoughts, fears, and dreams. He feels a pang of guilt for invading her privacy, but he knows this might be the key to understanding what set her apart.

One entry catches his eye, dated just two weeks before she was taken. Jessica writes about a man she noticed watching her, how she felt both intrigued and unsettled by his presence. The details are chilling and Javi’s pulse quickens. This could be the lead he’s been searching for.

As he continues to read through it, Jessica talks about meeting this guy who’s promising her the entire world. Her writing is whimsical, capturing the excitement and mystery of young love. She doesn’t go into detail, carefully avoiding specifics. She explains that this mystery boy told her that if she dared speak or write about all he’s revealed, none of it would come true.

His jaw tenses. To him, it sounds like a classic manipulation tactic, designed to keep her quiet and compliant.

“Bullshit,” he mutters under his breath, his exasperation amplifying as his fingers dig in to temples; alleviating the building migraine. He can’t believe she fell for such a transparent ploy, but he also understands the allure of a charming stranger spinning grand tales in small towns like these. It pisses him off that this guy—whoever he is—managed to weasel his way into Jessica’s life and fill her head with empty promises. He probably did the same with the others.

He takes a deep breath, trying to steady his emotions. He knows getting irritated won’t help him find the answers he needs. He forces himself to focus, flipping through more pages to see if there’s any additional information about this mystery guy. The eccentric tone continues, filled with hopeful musings and vague references.

He has to identify him, the one who captivated Jessica and possibly led to her captivity. He gently closes the diary, his mind racing with new questions and a burning desire for justice.

With renewed purpose, he exits the room, ready to confront whatever challenges lie ahead. Her fantasy-filled writings might have masked the danger, but he sees through it. Her descriptions of a mysterious suitor aren’t just youthful reveries—they’re potential clues.

He tucks the diary securely under his arm and heads downstairs, stopping to make conversation with her parents on the way out. Very subtly, he asks them questions about any new people in Jessica’s life, a boyfriend or a close guy friend she might have been spending time with recently. They aren’t much help in this regard, reiterating the same information they’ve already provided in various statements. Of course, Jessica wouldn’t have mentioned this secretive relationship to them, but he still had to ask—just in case.

The drive back to Seminary is quiet as he mulls over this discovery. He can’t shake the gnawing feeling that he knows who’s behind this, but his thoughts are muddled by the disdain he harbors for the blonde, tattooed sleaze that fits the vague description Jessica had written in her diary.

The charming promises, the elusive nature of this mystery man. They match the profile of the younger guy he’s had his eye on for a while—this local troublemaker known for his smooth-talking and shady past. This connection is worth looking into, especially since he already has the plans to tail August’s group.

Entering the sheriff’s department, he immediately notices Romeo chatting with Lorraine, who is gathering her things to leave for the day. Javier glances at his watch, seeing that he should have left hours ago.

“You workin’ a double?” he asks, flashing the older woman a charming smile as she bids them both goodnight.

“Had a meeting with Abbott over the phone then I did some paperwork. Paloma’s out with her friend ‘n won’t be back till morning. M’not really lookin’ to bein’ at home alone. Might stop by the bar to kill some more time.”

At the mention of her, he feels that all-too-familiar internal reaction—the one he experiences every time she’s brought up. No matter how hard he tries to bury his thoughts of her beneath his work and other bullshit distractions, it’s impossible when Romeo talks about her so frequently.

And why wouldn’t he? Romeo is none the wiser to what Javier and his daughter have been entangled in for the past few months. His guilt and desire swirl together once again, creating a complex cocktail of emotions that he has to suppress each time her name is mentioned.

He knows exactly which friend she’s with, and considering what he just discovered in the diary, he can’t help the way his heart races at the thought of Paloma being in danger. His rational mind tells him there’s no actual threat—everything is circumstantial. But he’s desperate for answers, and unfortunately, the person who currently fits the bill is too close to her for comfort.

“She not doing a show tonight?” Javier asks, his tone laced with practiced nonchalance. It’s Friday, and he knows how much she loves and looks forward to her weekend performances.

“Nah. Said she was havin’ a sleepover with Sloane at her place. Well, shit, the motel. S’where that poor girl is livin’. Dunno why they didn’t just stay at the house––she kept sayin’ that she doesn’t wanna be there all the time and that she’d just be in town. So I figured, what the hell, she is twenty-six years old. I shouldn’t be so goddamn strict on her all the time.”

He processes this new information. The fact that Sloane lives at the motel is news to him. If she stays there, it’s possible that others in their circle do too. He wonders what information he can get about them from the employees.

“Yeah, you’re right,” Javier responds, forcing a smile. “She’s an adult and can take care of herself. Still, you’re a good dad for looking out for her.”

Romeo’s face softens with appreciation, but his thoughts are already elsewhere. He needs to visit that motel and scope out anything he can get. The urgency of his mission pulses through him, driving him to take steps he might later question. But for now, he’s only focused on getting as much dirt as he can on this group.

He taps his fingers rhythmically on the surface of the entrance desk, his mind resolutely focused on his goal for the night. “Seems to me like you should be enjoying a child-free night. Just don’t drink yourself to death down at the bar, alright?” His lips quirk up into a small smirk, eliciting a chuckle from Romeo, who agrees with him before gathering his things and leaving Javier alone in the station.

His eyes drift to the clock on the wall. The overnight deputies are due in an hour, giving him a small window of time to prepare.

With his notes updated and a clearer picture forming in his mind, he closes the diary and slips it into an empty drawer at his desk. He stands, stretching his legs and rolling his shoulders to shake off the tension before heading towards the door, a determined set to his jaw. He tells the two deputies he’s going out over his shoulder, not giving them the time to reply before he’s in his cruiser and heading towards the Trails End motel.

The first car he sees when he arrives is Paloma’s, and he isn’t sure if he should be relieved or not. Parking right by the entrance, he finishes his cigarette, the neon lights of the flickering sign casting an eerie glow over his hardened facial expression.

He wonders what room she’s in, what she could be doing to pass the time, what she’s wearing. Javier curses under his breath, his lips tingling at the phantom feeling of her soft skin beneath his touch. He recalls how he could feel the pulse in her neck amidst burying himself inside her, each beat syncing with his own racing heart.

What an evil fucking thing it is to reminisce on such a memory like this. It’s regressive, the opposite of what he should be doing, but she has such a tight grip on his heart–– he wants her to squeeze it until it pops into a bloody mess. Maybe then he’d be free of this torment of yearning for her.

He exits his car, flicking the finished butt of his cigarette into a nearby bin. The cool night air doing little to calm the heated thoughts swirling in his mind. The motel’s façade is weathered and uninviting, everything one would expect from a dingy place like this. He pauses at the entrance, drawing one last deep breath before stepping inside.

The lobby is dimly lit, a faint smell of stale smoke and cleaning products hanging in the air. The clerk at the front desk looks up with a bored expression as Javier approaches.

They engage in small talk for a moment before Javi is pulling out the mugshots of August, Sloane, and Gabriel. He slides them across the counter and asks the man what he knows about them.

“Oh yeah. That’s Miss McCarthy!” The attendant points to the picture of Sloane. “A real sweet thing. Stayed here with those boys for a good while before she moved out a few weeks ago. Her checks from the bar still get mailed here, and she’s back every week to get ‘em.”

“Moved out? She’s not living here anymore?” Javier’s eyes narrow, intrigued yet confused.

“Nope. Got a house out there somewhere.”

“Is she here tonight?”

The man gives him a wary look but quickly backs down under the intensity of the sheriff deputy’s stare.

“No. Haven’t seen her since last Sunday when she came in to get her check.”

He digests this information. Sloane’s absence complicates things. He had hoped to walk away tonight with maybe a few more bad stories about her and her companions. Instead, he’s left with more questions.

His jaw clenches as he exhales through his nose, collecting the mugshots and shoving them back into his back pocket. “Alright, thanks. Mind if I take a look around before leaving?”

“She ain’t in no trouble, is she?”

“No trouble. Just following up with something.”

The attendant shrugs. “Suit yourself. Just don’t cause any trouble.”

Acknowledging him with a nod, Javier bids a brief goodnight before stepping out of the stuffy office and into the dimly lit parking lot. His footsteps echo against the pavement as he makes his way towards her car.

His frustration mounts at the revelation of the unlocked door. With a touch, it swings open easily, the interior bathed in the soft glow of the overhead light. His brows furrow as he scans the car, his irritation growing with each passing moment.

He conducts a brief search but finds nothing of significance until he flips down the visor. The keys tumble out with a muted thud, landing on the seat. Javier curses under his breath, his exasperation boiling over at the sight. She left her car unlocked and the keys inside—an invitation for trouble.

With a resigned sigh, he returns the keys to their place, his movements deliberate. He closes the door with a little more force than necessary, the sound ringing out in the quiet night.

Turning away from the car, he resumes his patrol of the motel grounds. He glances at the few rooms with lights shining from within, unable to discern which one she might be in—but he knows she’s not here at all. This fuels him to continue sleuthing.

The realization of her absence only gnaws at his unease. Where on earth could she be? Is she in some kind of trouble? Did she purposefully lie? Is she being shoved in the back of a van to meet her demise? These questions swirl in his mind, his fists clenching at his sides in a futile attempt to contain his growing anxiety. His nostrils flare with each agitated breath, the tension radiating off him like heat from a flame.

He knows he shouldn’t let himself get so worked up, but he can’t help it. The mere possibility of something happening to her fills him with a sense of dread that he can’t shake.

Determined to find something, He presses on with his search. He even manages to corner one of the motel’s housekeepers, hoping for any shred of information that might shed some light. Unfortunately, she offers nothing new, echoing the same vague responses he received from the front desk attendant.

Feeling like he’s hit a dead end, he retreats to his cruiser, the frustration mixed with anxiety pressing heavily on his shoulders as he goes through the motions of lighting another cigarette.

It isn’t until days later that Javier spots her leaving the library, a spring in her step as she rounds the building towards the alleyway. His heart races as he quickly exits his truck and crosses the street, determined to catch her alone. His conscience whispers for him to turn back, but he ignores it, driven by his relentless need for answers.

He calls out her name, and she freezes, turning sharply to face him. He opens his mouth to speak, but the words elude him, leaving him feeling foolish for being so easily affected by her presence.

Rolling her eyes, she begins to walk away. “Wait!” he calls after her, but she shows no signs of slowing down. Closing the distance, he reaches out and grabs her forearm, hoping to halt her retreat.

“Don’t fuckin’ touch me!” She hisses, pulling viciously from his touch and the action hits him straight in the gut, having him set his jaw firmly because he knows he deserves this.

“Where the hell were you last Friday night?” Javier demands, his words sharp and impatient, as if he holds authority over her whereabouts.

She stares at him incredulously, a disbelieving laugh escaping her lips. “You’re unbelievable,” she scoffs, shaking her head. There’s a new intensity in her gaze, a depth he’s never seen before, and it unsettles him. Though always spirited, her demeanor now is charged with an unfamiliar energy, conveying emotions he struggles to decipher.

“You use me, break my damn heart, have the audacity to tell me to leave you alone–– and when I finally do, you’re actin’ like this,” she accuses, her voice heavy with vexation. “Treatin’ me like I’m just some doll you can play around with ‘til you get bored then get possessive over when you can’t control her. Have you not already caused me enough pain?”

For a fleeting moment, she softens but she can’t help it with the way his mopey brown eyes tug at her heartstrings. Even after all the hurt he’s caused.

He’d miss the flash of vulnerability in her stare if not for how attuned he is to her. She’s right, and he fucking knows it. He’s made a bigger mess of things, a realization that pierces through him like a dagger.

But then he remembers the anxiety that had crawled over him once he realized she wasn’t at the motel, how pissed he’d gotten at her recklessness.

“That’s not what this is about,” he retorts through gritted teeth, “All this shit that’s going on and you’re just disappearing off into the night. There’s a psychopath out there, preying on girls like you and I’m just––” 

“You’re just what?” she interrupts, her voice laced with a mixture of defiance and exasperation. “Please don’t tell me you’re ‘looking after me,’ because that’s a damn joke. I can take care of myself. Like you said–– s’not your job to be babysittin’ me. Go do what you’re here to do, Javier, and leave. me. alone.” she concludes, her tone mirroring the sharpness he had directed at her that night at the party. “And stop followin’ me around.” With that, she turns on her heel and walks away, leaving him standing there, tussling with the burden of his own sense of wrongdoings.

His gaze follows her retreating figure with a heavy heart. He catches sight of August, leaning arrogantly against his motorcycle with an air of superiority at the end of the alleyway. Javier’s entire body tenses, standing there seething like a furious statue. Anger flares along his skin, transforming his melancholy into fury.

August’s smug posture, coupled with the intimate embrace he shares with her, ignites a jealous fire deep within Javier’s chest.

Every movement, every touch between them feels like a taunt aimed directly at him, a reminder of what he has lost, even though she wasn’t his to begin with.

His hands curl into tight fists, jaw twitching as he watches his possessive hand boldly grope her ass. It’s a sight that downright torments him as his mind is consumed by thoughts of what could have been and what she currently has with this piece of shit.

Paloma dons the helmet and straddles the bike behind August, pressing herself against him, and that is enough to finally get Javier to tear his gaze away. The roar of the motorcycle engine echoes in his ears, drowning out the sound of his own tumultuous emotions as they disappear into the distance, leaving him alone with his bitter regret.

[the-cat-and-the-birdie]

Do you support proshippers, cause if so then 😬.

People generally do not take this as an answer but I do want to say it because some people do care.

But I don't. Because I do not support either side and assigning me to either side does not reflect my views.

I actively oppose the conversation and the way is formatted and I intentionally do not engage.

I am neither a ProShipper or an Antishipper. And describing me as either would be describing me wrong. Why?

Because it's not a cut and dry issue.

It's not like Pro-life and Pro-choice where the question is simply 'Should abortion be legal'?

The shipping argument is asking if a RANGE of topics ranging from abusive relationships or negative depictions of mental illness to literal CP are okay - all under one question.

Asking me this is like asking "Hey do you support people that age up Damien Wayne in fics *cough*(and also people who write horribly dangerous things like graphic sexual assault for their own dark amusement..those people too)*cough*"

Like...the question to begin with is flawed.

With a question formatted like that - there is absolutely no way to have a healthier clear conversation that makes sense or accurately displays anyone's views.

The conversation itself is to vague and too broad to offer any type of fruitful conversation whatsoever. And I stand on that.

Like, I'd say at least half of the takes I see from either side I think are wrong, ridiculous, or based on vague arguments that just don't make sense.

I'm Not a Pro-Shipper cause there is some weird shit out there I'm not attaching myself to. Because some people out there are deranged, and malicious, and this is the internet.

I'm NOT an Anti-Shipper because there are a LOT of fucked up things that do wind up in media that tell a specific story - and there's also shit in the conversation that just doesn't fucking matter.

If you're writing about a character who went through CSA and your goal is to show a story about someone who lives with that trauma? Great. I'm for that so long as you do your research and do it respectfully

If you're writing out the SCENES???? AT LENGTH?? Go somewhere. Preferably a jail cell but somewhere that's not here.

If you're aging up a character and headcanon-ing what they'd be like in the future for shipping purposes - or you're shipping characters with no in-universe confirmed age. I couldn't care less.

If I don't wanna read it, I won't support it. I won't give it kudos or views. It's got nothing to do with me.

If you're writing things that are openly racist or openly sexualizing a character you are clearly writing as a child - absolutely fucking not. Anime men I'm looking at you.

And if you write black characters involved in raceplay count your mfing days.

It's not a cut and dry issue, so to ask me to define myself in one word on a topic of dozens of different genres isn't going to give you a clear picture of my views.

You are more likely to get a more clearer answer if you ask me about that specific genre and topic.

I am vocally and clearly on neither side and opposed to a conversation that is narrow and often ends in miscommunication.

There's always going to be a Pro-Shipper or Anti-Shipper out there that I deeply disagree with.

I refuse to engage and support a conversation that lumps together very serious issues with very asinine things and then expects me to answer in one word at threat of harassment (not you in specific, but very realistically in general).

I am a person of complex opinions. You see my blog. You really expect me of all people to be able to describe myself in one word?

Maybe in the terms of "Pro-Life" vs Pro-Choice (I'm Pro-Choice obviously) But in this conversation I cannot do it. I am very firmly neither.

I hope that answer your question, and since I feel like this should be said - especially with the fandom we're in - I'm happy to answer your question.

Like I said, a lot of people just won't take this as an answer. And that's fine. But I said what I said.

If you engage in this conversation and you think I agree you, you're wrong. If you engage and you think I disagree with you, you're wrong. Cause I am simply sitting here in silence, writing my silly little analysis and looking pretty, and will continue to do so.

Now if you'll excuse me, there's a photo of Hobie that I need to stare at.

Bye.

[johnslittlespoon]

sorry to do this to u in case u thought you’d finally escaped the spanking/ discipline related asks but now that there’s a brand new universe to brainrot about it in… it was bound to come up again 😅 ESPECIALLY. the biker au. gale being older, rough around the edges and more experienced? bucky living in his house and just. being Bucky. it needs to be explored.

KLSJDF i laughed omg don't be sorry, it's always fun to write about with a fresh take in a new au like you said! <3 and of courseee it would come up in the leaving!bikeriders au lol how could it not?

i had to write up my last post first to write this one because it adds important context as to how they'd go about this! and i think there are sooo many ways it could go, because everyone is so different in terms of how they process/cope with things.

john and gale both enjoy discipline for different reasons. for john, on the surface level, he likes to brat up and get put in his place, and gale manhandling him and being stern with him gets him all hot and worked up. on a deeper level (that he might not be aware of, but gale is), he likes being able to give up control in an environment where he knows he's fully safe, because it lets him get out of his head, following instructions and having gale do the thinking for him, etc.

on the surface level for gale, he likes to make john squirm and make pretty noises, and he likes to watch how easily he slips into obedience and apologies. on a deeper level, he likes that discipline is a way for them to both get restlessness out over smaller issues that don't really warrant a conversation, because it's usually more so caused by john being in a mood and acting up for attention. he also likes that he can give john a break from the way his mind is always goinggoinggoing, and that he can help him feel safe and loved while doing so.

but then we delve into what discipline looks like for them and i'm honestly torn because something like spanking can go either way for both of them. obviously john grows up in an unsupportive household with emotionally distant parents and a traditionalist dad who parents with anger and discipline– including spanking. because of this, i can see him reacting badly to gale spanking him, because it might take him back to that feeling of helplessness in a bad way.

he's fine with being reprimanded, and likes to mouth off and push gale until gale puts him in his place; all that stuff is fun to him. but the first time gale goes to spank him (in a lighthearted way), maybe john doesn't even expect to have a bad reaction to it until he does. maybe he goes rigid and grabs at gale's arm and says "stop" really firm and gale lets up immediately and checks in with him, and that's how they both discover that spanking is a hard no for john.

on the other hand, he might end up finding it's something that he does like when it's in a different context, because ofc there's the painplay aspect of it, and yk, his hot bf roughing him up. but there's also the fact that it might feel like he's taking his power back in the knowledge that he has control and can say the word and have gale stop at anytime, and that he knows gale's not actually mad at him when he's doing it. maybe it's something he's able to casually enjoy, or maybe it's something rare that takes a certain headspace to be in for either of them to initiate it, and requires lots of aftercare. it's really a toss up and i think if i write anything in relation to this in the fic, it'll kinda just develop as i go, in terms of how john would react to it.

on top of that, there's gale's rough upbringing with a dad who most definitely turned to drinking and fists, not traditional discipline. because of that, he might not even feel comfortable laying a hand on john in that way, even if john's enthusiastic about it and assures gale it's fine. he might be averse to any type of violence, whether that manifests in him avoiding physical confrontation when he can, or him not enjoying hitting even in kink, even knowing it's something john may enjoy. or those two things might be so separate in his mind that he doesn't take issue with it at all!

but even if physical discipline is out of the question, like you said, bucky is bucky lol. he's a lot, he likes to push, he likes to brat, he likes to watch gale's eyes darken and to hear his voice get low in warning when he's about ready to snap and put him in his place. gale needs some fun way to deal with that in the bedroom, and he can find lots of discipline alternatives that don't involve hitting, especially because discipline doesn't always have to equal punishment.

cockwarming to keep john's mouth busy until he's blissed out and pliant, orgasm denial and edging because "only good boys get to come" or "show me how sorry you are/beg and maybe i'll let you come", manhandling john to his knees and using his mouth until he's teary and flushed and ready to stop mouthing off, general rough sex to tire john out and fuck the brattiness out of him and get his own frustration out, overstimulation when john's been bratty for the purpose of getting gale to snap because "i thought this is what you wanted?" and "ask nicely enough and i might stop," etc etc. the possibilities are endless. :^)

but in the end everything comes down to talking things out and discovering what works and what doesn't, figuring out each other's boundaries, keeping things fun and lighthearted and having open communication (which is something both of them learn together.) <3