#like does that make sense? it Looks Much Better than what ive done recently

[defness]

Garm :}

[cleromancy]

oracle year one born of hope from batman chronicles #5 (published 1996) is hands down the best defridging story ive ever read for a lot of reasons--the first being just that its such a damn good comic in the first place. but every time i read it im so struck by the way it reframes the casual *incidental* violence done to barbara in TKJ, where she's just an obstacle in the joker's way to get to jim (to get to batman) and it's not *about* her. on the very second page of OYO we have this:

the entire page (...minus bruce in the bg up there) is drawn from barbaras point of view while she recounts the incident from her hospital bed. literally recentering her and her perspective, her experience and her feelings. where TKJ sensationalizes and sexualizes the violence done to her we see an illustration of her choice--love for her father, "don't get up"--then the shock and pain of the injury, then the operating room.

and she opened the story with "i cant believe i was such an idiot," berating herself for not looking through the peephole or using the chain on the door before she opened it, emphasizing that she knew better, and its a very human response to being the victim of something like this--almost fixating on a small mistake you made. inside the story its about the grief and the sense of control bargaining gives you--"if only i had--!" and then on the meta level its actually addressing the "well why DIDNT barbara look through the peephole???" (<- the answer being that TKJ never considered whether or not she would have, bc that was less important to the story than hurting her.)

and the next page. god. its masterful:

the balance of OYO being a response to TKJ on a meta level and the genuine story-level exploration of barbaras feelings just in the first 3 pages alone... chefs kiss. the way it addresses the previous bullshit storytelling choices--but builds something new off of them, because that shouldn't be the end of barbaras story.

and its so fantastic bc it doesn't shy away from barbaras ugly feelings...

she's so angry and she's allowed to be. and thats also what makes it such a good defridging--that its a resonant portrayal of becoming disabled. anger, grief, humiliation, shame, fear, the absolute *slog* that is recovery, the realization that your independence has been compromised... it really reckons with what this means for her in that moment and moving forward.

just posting this one bc i love her...

and the crux of the story is barbara taking control back over her life, barbara not feeling helpless anymore. its a superhero origin story to its core and its fantastic at what it does.

and i mean... i do always feel iffy about this part:

the juxtaposition of her wanting to do this without batmans help with her, well, unknowingly accepting bruces help. makes seesaw motion with hand. i always feel like its a bit of a weak spot... i like elements of it, particularly *because* this work is addressing so much of TKJs bullshit; this is making bruce actually care about barbaras injury because fuck you he *should* care, he *should* do something. and barbaras need for independence and her struggles to accept help are pretty central to her character and in a story about disability... i mean interdependence is a core tenant of disability rights activism, no man is an island and all that. but btwn it being bruce who finds richard dragon for her to train with, and richard dragon both being yknow a man and not a wheelchair user himself, it falls flat. which is really something you notice bc the rest of the story is so damn good... its hard for me to put my finger on exactly what i think they should've done instead, bc they only had 18 pages for this story and like. it's incredibly tight, not a panel wasted, so it *was* important that barbaras teacher be someone we the reader already know, and there was no *time* to establish some other way for barbara to find someone of richard fucking dragons caliber on her own without bruces connections.

but that i guess does bring me to. the other thing i find frustrating re: OYO which is just that it's. 18 pages collected with two other stories, neither of which is memorable... i mean how many other year ones of a heavy hitter like barbara freakin gordon can you think of with less than a single full issue? and batgirl year one had 9 issues (9 mediocre, mediocre issues). i dont think OYO needed that much time (but hey neither did fucking bgyo)... but come on. come on!!!!!!

anyway whatever. oracle sweep

[carnalhaus]

Your lighting and rendering in all your drawings is top tier dawg how do you do the flash photography effect😭

thank u first of all !!!!!

second of all, honestly i think a lot of it just has to do with how exactly you color the skin and stuff. i always look at photos for coloring reference actually, because cameras and surroundings can make the skin look different if that makes sense. with digital cameras, it makes the skin look very bright and airbrushed, but the flash of the camera also focuses on certain areas. i find that since the face is usually the center of attention, the face and neck are sometimes lighter than the rest of the body (since that’s where the camera is probably pointed, thus lighting it up more). so i try and keep that in mind, and add more shading to the skin in parts where i know the flash wouldn’t be hitting as directly. skin is also very shiny, people are oily, so don’t be afraid to add some harsh highlights around oily areas (i find this is usually the face and chest). same with hair, eyes, and mouth, it helps to just know which areas of the body are glossier than others, and use harsher highlights on those.

with how i do things, sometimes i like to color pick from reference pictures while also using the aforementioned method to actually color. sometimes ill literally just type digital cam photo into pinterest, and then find someone with a similar skin tone to the character, in a similar environment as the drawing. then you just have to apply your knowledge and know which colors to take, and where to put them back down.

one more small coloring note, shadows with digital cameras are usually very small, but they can be harsh. don’t add too much shading to areas you know are getting a lot of light, because there’s a big flash that’s brightening everything up. instead i’d say to just add thin, dark shadows around those areas. also, keep in mind what angle the camera is shooting from, and that’s the angle the shadows should be going in. the drawing below is kind of what i mean, but the environment this photo is hypothetically being taken in is very dark, so the shadows are much harsher than they’d be in a lighter room.

another thing i do along with paying close attention to the coloring, is just making things kinda blurry. recently what ive been doing is duplicating the sketch layer (which i use as lineart), blurring it as much as i see fit, coloring it anywhere from purple to red (it depends), and just turning that into a multiply layer and adjusting the opacity as i see fit. sometimes what i also do is once the whole thing is done and the layers are all together, i duplicate the whole drawing, blur that, and then turn that into a soft light layer and lower the opacity. it depends on what your drawing looks like, so it looks better with some things than others. anything that works with your process that makes things look “dreamy,” probably does the same thing !

only the first one is meant to look like it’s off a digital camera lol, but if you look close at these drawings, you can sorta see what i mean.

[t4tails]

People do this thing where if they stay in a certain development of a character or if a character is in development they suddenly all stop to think about all the shit they've done and just stay with the oldest or most recent stuff. Like... that's so boring, right?! Are we just gonna throw out all the messy bits that make the character complex? I mean, Batman girlies sin of this a lot... just look at all the people that think that Bruce can either be the worst or best parent ever and I know comic books are for teenagers and of course a teen won't have a more complex sense of morality or self but also the people complaining online aren't exactly your young teens that comic books are catered to...

So, I'm watching an on going show and there's a character that's like very immature and messy and shit and people hate him of course but also the writing is literally telling you: "Hey, he's trying to get better. He's gonna get better y'know, he has been messy and dramatic since day one this isn't new" and I know for a fact that the instant he gets better people suddenly are gonna act as if he was always good.

Like... yeah, Harley does messed up stuff... she is not a hero but also literally strapped bombs to her and The Joker to make Batman kill one of them like... maybe sometimes some characters... do bad and good stuff cuz that's what their characters are about. Sometimes characters are meant to be messy

for real an overwhelming amount of people, especially online comic fans, have an obnoxious combo of black and white morality + tunnel vision and it makes fan spaces uninhabitable because theres a 70% chance that any person you talk to in said spaces is the biggest fucking moron in the world when it comes to understanding character writing more complex than a cardboard cutout. like ive harped on how a lot of peoples idea of "anti-hero" is just good guy who kills people sometimes but the truth is even that is too much for some people 😭

[chronically-enthusiastic]

Sooo.... Below the read break is kinda my autism journey? Well masking journey probably. I did this both for myself, and for any other people out there who are looking for stories of other people and their experiences. And also a bit for the picrewcule bc ive posted some stuff about struggling with friendships recently and yeah..... :)

I was always the weird one in primary school... I was bullied in my first school, maybe a combination of autism and faith? But it led me to have to move schools... In my second primary school, people didnt bully me as overtly, but they would run away from me if I went near them and they called me unpleasant things. I was asked why I was weird quite a few times and my answer was that i had learnt how to interact in a normal way at my previous school, and now i am here and I dont know again... Which looking back was very self aware if me, but also very autistic of me....

I did find friends at that school, but they were so toxic and oftentimes mean that it would probably have been better for me to not have made friends at all....

Every time i went back after a half term, i would cry and plead with myself to just try to be normal. Theyll like me if im normal, they wont run away from me in the playground saying ive got the cheese touch. But each time I failed to make myself normal.

UNTIL!! i started high school. The mask fell into place in year 7. And it worked! No one was mean to me, infact I even found a few nice friends! But every time the mask dropped slightly accidentally i would feel so so bad inside, like i had done the worst thing ever and i had messed up forever.

Then year 8 came along. And masking all the time took its toll. I was crying every day needing to go to the library. I forgot what it was like to feel happy. I was so so tired and so so sad. I forgot who I was. Family friends were asking my parents if I was okay because i seemed so different and sad. And I would say im fine, because my life was fine. I had family who loved me, a school that I enjoyed, and friends who cared for me. I had no reason to be depressed.

Aannd then lock down happend. And that possibly maybe saved my life. I wasnt at that point yet, but I think I was on that trajectory. I found myself again in lockdown! Thats the short of it! Yay!

Then school started up again and i masked again, and i started going downhill again. Fast forward to yr11 when I was missing so many lessons because of anxiety/overstimulatiin.... And people noticed this time and I got therapy! Halfway through therapy me and my therapist seperately came to the conclusion that I was probably autistic. And everything made sense.

I started to lower the mask and almost immediately lots of my anxiety ceased. I started to learn who I was again, and I felt so much happier. And now? Im in a new school without anyone I know and ive dropped the mask almost entirely.

First weeks are always hard for me. I was expecting to need to miss almost every lesson this week and to be crying constantly. Ive gone to every lesson and this week has been about as bad as a normal week at my old school. I have support now.

Masking really took its toll and I am so glad Im in a position that I dont need to anymore. I dont want to end up back where i was in year 8, or yr 11. But it does mean its harder to find friends.... But as you have said, its better to have friends who know the real me and who like the real me than friends who like a mask.

[vivisols]

Chica perhaps Sayu?? Bubbly and pink!

Oh oh! Roxanne as Eve?? For the attitude?

uhmmmmmmm perhaps Monty as DJSS? Maybe??

you might already have every character planned out but WAHH! My favorite things!!

Oh would be more of a fnaf characters in place of NSR characters, or more an actual merge? Like, would it just be the story of NSR with the personality changes and look of fnaf characters, or will there be more fnaf elements introduced?

I read back on your nsr posts and you said Y/N would be Tatiana (although, i kind of personally see it a better fit for Vanessa! The colder attitude and everything?)

But it does mean some characters just don’t fit into certain others (Neon J and 1010 throughly confound me, no clue who they might be)

How much will you change and merge to make everything make sense in the story? What will you keep or have to discard?

HI ANON HIIII YOU’RE RIGHT ABOUT ME HAVING THE CHARACTERS PLANNED OUT!!! AAAAND YOURE ACTUALLY SPOT ON WITH 2/3 OF YOUR CHARACTER IDEAS LOLZ!!!!

here’s how the character lineup is looking so far :3

djss - DJ Music man!!!!!! …tho i was going with sun and moon originally entirely out of Blorbo Bias xDD sayu - chica!!! if they aren’t doing anything with the chica of the sea picture we got in sb then IM TAKING MATTERS INTO MY OWN HANDS HERE X3 dk west - monty!!! it makes sense in my head somehow yinu - gregory! another thing that somehow makes sense to me yinu’s mom - freddy!! ive got a Whole Thing Planned here TRUST neon j - bonnie!! im thinking REAL hard about the whole “wet floor bot” thing he had going for him in ruin tbh… 1010 - staff bots with different hairstyles… think like the Roxy salon minigame in hw2 with them :3 eve - roxy!!!! AS YOU MENTIONED IT MAKE SENSE :3 plus the whole eve + zuke thing kinda tied in with moon and Roxy… hey man it feeds into some of my headcanons for them so it makes sense to me xD tatiana - y/n! solely because i think there’s So Much Potential mayday - sun!!!! very obvious choice here hehe >:3 zuke - moon!!!! it just makes sense!!!! ellie - random silly wet floor bot lol kliff - VANESSA!!!! (…is it obvious yet that i need some kinda Thing between Vanessa and y/n in all my fics SO baddddd xP)

the overall kinda idea i have for this silly AU is gonna be more no straight roads than fnaf in the end and as a result im gonna try sticking to about ~65% of NSR canon! think something LIKE NSR with fnaf characters, though because some stuff has to get shuffled around and prodded at to make it work, it’s not 1 to 1 the same lol

there’s gonna be some (albeit as minor as i can make them) plot changes and some personality changes and DEFINITELY some Environment changes, though im sticking to both sources as best as i can! AND im making some more fnaf elements incorporated for sure!!!!

ive been kinda keeping the brainrot for this AU on the back burner since like January lol!!! it started as a simple little silly one time discussin and then it hit me over the head full force outta the blue recently for some reason xD so now ive decided to make it a whole thing!!!! ive never REALLy done a crossover au before so this is gonna be a fun new experience!!!!!! >:3

[winter-soldier-vibes]

You Aren’t Somebody? (Bucky x Reader)

Bucky x reader

Word count: 2647

Summary: Bucky knows that the reader has struggled with an eating disorder before, but thought they were doing better. Little does he know, they had just gotten better at hiding it. Until one night, he catches her doing something she had promised she had stopped

Warnings: eating disorder, purging, angst, fluff

Tags @abitgryffindorky @buckys2thicc @thatfangirl42 @buckfics @barnesplums @mardema @stucky-on-spiderman @thundering-barnes

Main Masterlist

A/N: It’s finals week and I am running on energy drinks, reading fanfiction, and longgggg hot showers. But the semester is almost over, and then I have no obligations aside from my hobbies. I see the requests and I’m working on them I promise! I have a list of all the requests that I get, and I am working through them I PROMISE!!! Thank you all for all of your support.

A/N 2: This deals with heavy and dark themes of mental illness. The specific warnings are above. If you feel that in any way reading this will be harmful to your mental health and your journey, PLEASE skip it. I write from my own experience and I know what I would’ve wanted to hear in these situations, and writing/reading fics helps me feel comforted. This fic is based on one experience more specifically than most of my fics, so I apologize if it’s not exactly the same as your experience. This is what I would’ve wanted to hear. If you need or want someone to talk to, vent to, or get advice from, feel free to message me, really. I’m here! <3

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

Bucky was standing in front of you, blocking the door. His piercing blue eyes were locked on you, your own refusing to meet his. 

He wanted answers that you were not ready to give.

“Y/n, please. I just want to talk about this”

“There’s nothing to talk about, Bucky.”

He looked you up and down. Your hair was in a messy bun, a few loose strands sticking to your tear stained cheeks. Your eyes were puffy, and your face was red, voice raspy. He took a deep breath. “You told me you would tell me if it was getting bad again.”

“You promised.”

You closed your eyes. He wasn’t wrong, you had promised. But that was because you never thought you’d see the day when you were purging again. You thought you had gotten over it. You really thought that this time you wouldn’t slip up.

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

You had been struggling with an eating disorder for a while. The cause, you weren’t quite sure. An innocent diet soon turned into a competition for yourself, but the end goal was never there. At first you had thought it was just about the weight and how you looked, but then you found that some of your behavior patterns were tied to your emotional ones. 

Stress was the major trigger, you had come to learn.

Whether it was a mission gone wrong, you getting injured, someone else getting injured, or even just basic social interactions you thought could’ve gone better, you found yourself inclined to comfort yourself with food. 

Until you panicked, which would lead you to the bathroom with music blaring and water running to cover up the noises of your retching. 

You hated it, and every time you told yourself it was the last time. But the more you did it, the more you felt the urge to do it. At first it was triggered by large stressors, but now smaller things could trigger you to want to throw up. You tried to keep it hidden, unaware of the true reasons for why you did it. You were able to help yourself sometimes, it wasn’t worth bringing anyone else into. 

You couldn’t explain it to yourself, so how were you supposed to explain it to anybody?

The best way that you had figured out how to describe it was that whenever you felt a negative emotion, you could soothe it in a physical way with food, especially with all the warm comfort foods that are known. But at the same time, that feeling lasted as long as you could taste, and you would feel guilty as you felt full. When you threw up, it felt like you were also throwing up the negative emotions. 

But when you said it out loud, it didn’t make sense. When people are sick and throwing up it’s one of the most uncomfortable feelings ever. Inducing it hurts sometimes, but it’s almost not as bad. Like you know it’s coming, and you’re in control of what’s happening and you could stop at any point. And there had been times where you could soothe yourself in other ways, and you knew your own physical limits. You knew when you had to stop for your own health.

Until you couldn’t stop.

Which is what led to you fainting on a mission after purging too much. Your electrolytes had bottomed out and you almost had a heart attack at an age no one should. Bucky, your boyfriend who was on the mission with you, had put it together when the first words out of your mouth upon gaining consciousness were “Is this a glucose drip?” while tugging at the IV.

He hadn’t been mad, not exactly. He wasn’t mad at you but he was furious with himself for not noticing, and for making you feel as though you couldn’t tell him. You assured him that you did trust him, but he wished you had come to him before you could’ve gotten yourself, and those on the mission, seriously hurt or killed. 

Nonetheless, you still didn’t know how to talk about it.

“Can you try to tell me about it?” he asked gently, running a hand through your hair. He held you to his chest, you unable to meet his eyes.

“It won’t make any sense,” you had said, tears glazing your eyes.

“I want to understand. Can you help me understand?”

You paused for a moment. “It’s a long story and I don’t know where to start. There’s so much going wrong.” you had said, tears beginning to streak down your face.

“I have all the time for you. And it doesn’t have to make sense, these things rarely do. I’m not here to judge you, I’m here to listen.”

And true to his word, he had. He had listened and held you while you tried to talk about what you could. He didn’t understand everything, he naturally had a ton of questions, but they weren’t for that moment. He had promised to help you the best that he could, and you had promised to try and tell him whenever you felt the urges get too strong. And if you couldn’t, to tell him after.

It was easier to talk to Bucky than anyone else. Not because he was your boyfriend, but because he seemed to understand you more than anyone else could. He had his own share of mental health struggles. Neither of you knew exactly what the other was going through, but you both understood that it was easy to feel alone and guilty even though you couldn’t control it. 

It was rough, but he was never mad. He was sometimes firm, and sometimes you had gotten angry with him. Only to later apologize to him with tears in your eyes. He was never mad with you. He understood that this was something internal. Upon research he had done and conversations he had had with Bruce, he understood that this had nothing to do with him. Some people thought eating disorders were about getting attention when it was one of the furthest things from the truth.

All he could do was love you and be there for you.

And to your surprise, talking about it did help.it took a long time, months, of long and hard conversations, panic attacks, slip ups, and really dark days. But it got to the point where Bucky felt that you were doing better, making an effort to tell you how proud he was and how much he loved you. 

And you were doing better, in a way. But you had been slipping up more recently, and you hadn’t told Bucky. You didn’t know how. After going the longest you’d ever had between slip ups, you found yourself retching over the toilet. You would have gone to Bucky but he had been away on a mission that was extended a few days. You couldn’t interrupt him because your feelings were too much to handle. People needed his help more than you did.

You were going to tell him, but he had been so tired when he had come back. He needed his time to relax, and it wasn’t the right time to tell him. And the next day when he was rested, you felt that it was irrelevant. Any negative feeling you had felt the day before had since past, and you didn’t see the point in bringing it up today. It would worry Bucky, he wouldn’t want to go on missions, and you weren’t going to do that to him. Besides, it was just one time.

Right?

You soon found yourself purging when Bucky wasn’t around. If he had gone out with Steve, if he was on a mission, or if he was down in the gym you found yourself taking more opportunities to give into your urges. It wasn’t nearly as bad as it had been, but you were spiraling. But at this point you had been slipping up so many times, you had been so secretive about it. 

It would kill Bucky inside to know that you were hiding this from him again. He would feel like you didn’t trust him. You trusted him with your life.

You just didn’t want to let him down. Not again, not when he had explicitly told you to come to him and you had been blatantly ignoring that.

You wanted to tell him, you did. But you couldn’t let him being so proud of you be based on a lie.

One day you were hunched over the toilet, legs sahking and tears streaming down your face from exertion. Bucky was away on a mission, so you didn’t even bother with the music or the water. What you hadn’t anticipated was him coming back hours earlier than he should’ve

The mission had gone much more smoothly than anticipated, which everyone was happy about. Bucky was glad he would get a few more hours with you. He had gone up to your shared room and let himself in, surprised to see you weren’t there. But then he heard you coughing from behind a closed bathroom door.

He felt like someone had punched him in the gut. You had been doing so well, what had happened?

He walked over to the door, knocking on it and calling out your name. He heard you muffle a small fuck before he knocked again.

“Y/n please, let me in.”

He heard the toilet flush and the sink turn on, you on the other side washing your face. You could feel the tears from exertion be replaced by ones of shame and embarrassment, biting your lip slightly. What the fuck were you going to tell him? 

When you finally turned off the water, you rubbed your face with a towel, sighing heavily into it. When you took it away, you looked long and hard at the doorknob. 

Bucky sighed on the other side of the door. “Y/n please. I’m not mad. We’ve been here before, I just wanna talk to you.”

You closed your eyes for a moment, taking a breath before you made your expression nuetral and opened the door. 

Bucky’s eyes immediately saddened when he took you in. your face was still red and there were tears in your eyes. You had tried to put up a front, he could tell that too. Sometimes you got angry with him because you didn’t want to be vulnerable. He was prepared because like he said - he’d helped you before.

Before he could say anything you crossed your arms. “You’re home early,” you said coldly.

“Y/n.” 

“How’d the mission go? Well, I assume.” you tried to slip past Bucky but he was blocking the door. 

Bucky took a deep breath. “Yeah, yeah, the mission went well.” He wanted to be gentle with you. “But how are you?”

You shrugged, trying to appear oblivious. “I’m fine,” voice wavering slightly as you looked away.

“Y/n please. You’re not fine. Can you tell me what happened?”

“The same thing that always happens” you said bitterly. “Something stupid comes up, I start feeling like shit about myself and I ignore it until I’m puking it up with everything else, alright? It’s the same story, different time, and now I have you looking at me all hurt just like I was worried about which is why I couldn’t tell you!” you exclaimed, eyes filled with anger and tears. Bucky looked at you as if you had just punched him in the face. He would’ve much preferred that you had.

“Y/n.”

You shook your head, trying to get through the door that he was blocking. “Bucky, just let me through the door, forget it.”

“Y/n just talk to me please, I -”

“JUST LET ME THROUGH THE GODDAMN DOOR.” You yelled, surprising Bucky. It had been a while since you had gotten this angry or defensive. But he stood his ground. Bucky was standing in front of you, blocking the door. His piercing blue eyes were locked on you, your own refusing to meet his. 

He wanted answers that you were not ready to give.

“Y/n, please. I just want to talk about this”

“There’s nothing to talk about, Bucky,” you said, feeling tears threatening to spill over. 

He took a deep breath. “You told me you would tell me if it was getting bad again.”

You closed your eyes and felt a pang in your stomach. “Bucky, I - “

“You promised,” he said, voice cracking.

You shook your head. “Why do I have to talk about this. It’s not like I’m hurting anybody” 

“You’re hurting yourself, y/n.” he said calmly.

You shook your head and narrowed your eyes slightly, tears falling. “That’s different Bucky, you know it is.”

“You aren’t somebody?”

You looked at him for a moment before a sob escaped your body, leaning on the counter for support as you brought a hand to your mouth. Bucky quickly came up behind you and pulled you into him, wrapping his arms around you. You started crying harder, embarrassed and ashamed. 

“I’m sorry Bucky, I didn’t know what else to do, I didn’t know how to tell you, I -”

“Hey it’s okay, it’s alright y/n, I’m here.” Bucky kept whispering reassurances in your ears, rubbing a hand up and down your back. 

After some time passed, you didn’t know how long, you were able to calm down enough to take some shaky breaths, hiding your red face in Bucky’s chest.

“When did this start happening again?” he asked softly

“I don’t know… few weeks at least, not really sure.”

He took a breath, trying to stay calm. A few weeks and he hadn’t suspected anything, and you were alone. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“You were on a mission, I couldn’t interrupt that.”

“Why didn’t you tell me when I got back?” he pressed gently.

“You were so tired Bucky - ”

“Y/n.” he said more firmly.

You paused for a moment, knowing he wouldn’t take those answers. If they were truly the reason then you would’ve told him the next day or the day after, as soon as the opportunity came. There was more to why you waited, and Bucky knew that. 

“I didn’t want to disappoint you,” you whispered. 

You heard Bucky sigh. He was angry with himself, for not being approachable to you. All he wanted was to make you feel safe enough to come to him, and to hear that you hadn’t because you thought he had expectations for you crushed him. “Y/n, I told you you could tell me about this. When have I ever been disappointed or angry with you?”

“You haven’t. You were just so proud and I - I didn’t want to ruin that for you. I didn’t want to tell you that you were proud of a lie.”

“Hey, hey look at me.” Hesitantly you looked up to meet his eyes. “None of this was you lying. You put in the hard work day after day, and I told you I was here to support you. But I never did the work for you. You did that. I’m proud of you and I always will be because you’re a fighter. It’s okay to have bad days, it’s okay to slip up. It’s okay to need a little help too, and that’s what I’m here for. A slip up doesn’t erase all the hard work you’ve put in before. I’m proud of you for the progress you’ve made, and of the work you put in. This doesn’t change anything sweetheart.”

He pulled you back into his chest.

“I’ll always be proud of you.”

[starsstruck]

shampoo bottles

a friends with benefits gone wrong. harry can’t bring himself to get rid of everything you’ve left at his place after things fall apart. beat up red cars, crumpled sweatshirts and of course, shampoo bottles.

based off the song “shampoo bottles” by peach pit.

pairing: harry x reader words: 6.9k rating: M

a/n: this is just a little something i had inspiration for ! like i said its based off the song “shampoo bottles” by peach pit (great song great band). its an OU but im not regarding tour dates or quarantine or wtv, i just have dates so its easier to follow since i go back and forth a lot ! its a bit of a different writing style than ive done before so hopefully everyone likes it ! would love to hear what you think, and enjoy !

                                                            ***

November 20th

The shampoo bottles taunted him.

The worst part was Harry wished they weren’t empty. He wished that there was still even a drop left in them so that he could rub it through his own hair. Although having milked them of their last contents weeks ago, they still sat in the corner of his shower.

The smell lingered on them. The sweet smell of some flower, maybe some orange blossom, he didn’t ever really know. All he knew is that he was addicted to the smell, and seeing the bottles sit in the corner as he showered made him feel like he could smell them, like he could smell you.

He remembered the day you brought the bottles over, claiming to be annoyed with the way his shampoo just wasn’t the same. The idea of you smelling like him brought a heat to his stomach, he liked the smell of your shampoo even better. And now the bottles sat there. Taunting him.

October 15th

“What’s with the bag?” Laughing as he pointed at the bag in your hand, he wondered what you could possibly be bringing with you to the washroom.

“Brought my own shampoo,” you pulled a bottle out of the canvas tote bag around you were holding, smile wide on your lips. “And some other things. Hope you don’t mind.”

He jutted his lips out in a mock pout. “What’s wrong with my things?”

“Don’t like your shampoo.” You hummed, disappearing behind the still open door frame that led to the washroom. “Don’t worry! I still like your nice moisturizer, does wonders for my skin.”

He scrambled up in his sheets at the sound of the shower turning on. Standing in the door frame of the washroom, he watched as you pulled off your underwear and dropped them aside. He knew that you could feel him watching you, and that you were pretending not to notice or care.

Stepping into the shower, shutting the glass door behind you as you let the water hit your back. He stayed where he was for a minute, until steam was beginning to fog the glass door that separated you two and he couldn’t hold back any longer.

“Let me do that,” humming as he stepped into the shower next to you, just as you were reaching for the shampoo bottle that you brought.

“Awfully nice of you,” moving aside slightly, you passed him the shampoo bottle. Moving around so that he stood directly in front of, you letting you stand under the stream of water. Squeezing some shampoo out onto his hand, he put the bottle down and rubbed his hand through your hair.

“Feels nice,” you shut your eyes, Harry watched water droplets fall down your forehead that end up getting caught in your eyelashes. He brough both hands to your head, massaging the shampoo in. Taking extra time to rub his fingertips into your scalp, enjoying the content smile on your lips as you leaned into his touch.

He knew you, he knew you well. In this moment he knew that you were doing it on purpose: the small moans in the back of your throat as he rubbed his hands against your head, the way you arched your back slightly, and the way you titled your head back in the same way you did when his head was between your thighs.

Tilting your head in his hands so that the stream of water hit your scalp, rinsing out the suds. The smell around him was only of the sweet orange blossom mixed with something else, he could never put his finger on it.

“All done,” he grinned, tapping your eyelid gently. He watched as you rubbed the water from your eyes, blinking them open to gaze into his.

He kept his hands around you, dropping to your shoulder as he pulled himself closer to you. Semi hard length pressing into your thigh, your eyes dropped down and were soon followed by your hands. Jolt sent through his abdomen as your warm hands wrapped around him, lightly tugging and pulling.

“’s nice,” he mumbled, feeling the blood leave his brain and relocate between his legs. Your grip tightened around him, thumb rubbing over his tip in a way that made his hips buck into your hand. His grip around you tightened when your eyes met his again, tongue darting out to lick water from your lips.

His legs nearly buckled when you dropped down to your knees, remaining under the shower stream. He didn’t mind being in the colder side of the shower, especially if you were going to be on your knees in front of him.

“Want to get me in your mouth?” His voice nearly surprised him at its hoarseness. It wasn’t like he hadn’t had you like this before, it was just that every time you had your hands on him it drove him completely crazy.

Watching your slow nod, Harry wrapped a hand over your head, tugging on the recently washed strands as he encouraged you. Not able to take his eyes off of you as you wrapped your lips around the head of his cock, slowly easing him into your mouth until your lips met where your hand was still wrapped around him.

“Look so good like this.”

November 20th

His hand didn’t do you justice, but it was all he had. It was like the smell of your shampoo filled his senses every time he stepped foot in his shower, no every time he stepped foot in his washroom. Every time he saw those goddamn shampoo bottles sitting. Untouched.

He just couldn’t bring himself to throw them out.

Nothing could clear his mind. It had been weeks, and nothing he did could get his mind off of you. Maybe that was his own fault. He knew it was his own fault. His place was littered with traces of you.

Part of him probably got something out of his pain, but he didn’t care.

Not when he couldn’t bring himself to clean out his bathroom, because of the way your toothbrush sat so nicely next to his. Or the way you had brought him some organic soaps, claiming they smelt really good and were made out of all kind of nice essential oils.

He couldn’t even bring himself to use that bar of soap, knowing the more he used it the smaller it would get, and soon it’d be gone.

But his wallowing really hit an all time high when he found your sweatshirt.

He really thought you had taken all your clothes with you. You didn’t leave a lot of them at his place to begin with. Clothes being the one thing you claimed you didn’t need as you helped yourself freely to his closet.

But when he was going through said closet, he found a bunched up blue sweatshirt he had forgotten he kept.

September 2nd

It was an odd rainy night, and Harry didn’t feel like going out. He was no stranger to poor weather, but the rain seemed to be the last thing he needed to decided that he would rather stay in. Relieved when you had shared his opinion, agreeing to come over with a bottle of margarita mix. It was just the two of you, Harry just wanted a calm night in with his friend and maybe a couple drinks, ones they could make themselves.

Soon you were seated on his couch, leaning against the armrest with your feet pointed towards him. Cozy in your sweatshirt, gripping your drink tight between your fingers.  

“Would you let me draw one for you?”

You spluttered out a laugh at his request. “God no!” Your laugh deepened when you glanced up at him. “Nothing against you, Harry. Just want a professional to do it.”

The movie put in was long forgotten, now facing each other and talking about where you should get your first tattoo. You had told him what you wanted to get, you just had no idea where it should go.

“Fine,” he huffed, playfully of course. His head felt hazy, couple of drinks have come and gone and he was still nursing another strong cocktail in his hands. “So, where are you gonna get it?”

“That’s the problem,” you muttered, taking a big sip of your drink. “I don’t think I want it really visible, like not on my arms or anything.”

Harry nodded, knowing that you were nervous about regretting a tattoo. “You thinking maybe around your ribs?”

He watched as you lifted your sweatshirt a bit, finger tips brushing over your ribcage. “I don’t know – heard it hurts really bad there.”

“Not too much,” Harry thought over his own experience, although knowing you were a bit more uneasy with needles.

“I was thinking like,” you patted the spot where you hipbone was. “My hip. Kind of cute, no?”

He bit back a smile. “Very cute.” The alcohol spoke before he could. He thought it was much more than cute, he thought that a tattoo on your hip was the best idea you’d had in years.

“Plus it’s kind of,” you paused, licking your lips. “Intimate.”

He sucked in a breath. He didn’t like the idea of someone else finding your tattoo. A tattoo that he was helping you figure out. He didn’t like the idea of someone kissing it, of someone peeling off your pants and being delighted to see a little tattoo there, just for them.

It was selfish of him, and he knew it wasn’t right. The two of you had both been single for a while and he had gotten so used to having you around, he was getting jealous at the thought of someone taking you away from him.

“You’re out of it,” you giggled, after a moment too long in silence.

Harry broke himself out of his daze. “’m not drunk,” he muttered into his glass, although he was. And the alcohol was clouding his mind, and he didn’t know what to do about it. “Hip is a really good idea.”

Mentally wincing at how eager he sounded, he watched as you nodded, worrying your bottom lip between your teeth. “Think it’ll hurt a lot?”

He chuckled to himself. “It’s a tattoo darling, course it’ll hurt a bit. I can come wit’ you if you want, hold your hand and all.”

Smile broke out on your face, teeth no longer gnawing on your lip. “That’d be nice,” humming as you placed your drink on the table in front of you. “Did yours hurt a lot?”

“Couple of them were a bit more painful, yeah.” He nodded, honestly not really remembering. “Get used to it after a while. One’s on my chest were probably the worst.”

“I like your butterfly,” you moved a foot out, nudging his thigh with it. “I would be too scared to get something that big though.”

“You’ll see,” he laughed. “Once you get one you won’t be able to stop.” He mindlessly trailed his hand over his shirt, where his tattoo rested.

“Don’t know about that. I don’t know if I would want a too many,” you hummed into your cup. “I do like all of yours though.”

“Yeah?” He sat up straighter. “Which ones your favourite?”

You sit up straighter as well, shuffling towards him a bit on the couch. “Can’t choose just one.” He tried not to jolt when your fingertips met his forearm, gently trailing up and following the lines of his tattoos. “What about you?”

He was silent for another moment too long, watching your fingers move up his arm. Finally glancing up at you, meeting your eyes with a lazy smile. “Don’t know either.”

“You’re completely pissed,” you laughed at his slow response, his hand moved without thinking, and pinched your cheek.

“Maybe,” his mouth and hands were working without his mind. “Skin is burning hot darling.” Hand smoothing around your face, he moved away for a second to place his drink next to yours on the table before tapping your forehead with a cool fingertip.

“’s cold,” you laughed, eyes shutting in a slow blink. “I heard,” you paused for another moment, as Harry brought his hand away from your face. “Heard tattoos feel like a bunch of little scratches.”

“Something like that,” he hummed, not being able to recall any tattoos he’s ever gotten in this moment.

“It’s like,” he moved his hand to your waist, lightly pushing under your sweatshirt. If he weren’t so close to you, he would’ve missed the little gasp that left your lips. “Like this.”

His nails weren’t nearly long enough to properly scratch at your skin, but he slowly dragged them along your ribs. “But faster, and it’s a needle.”

“Doesn’t really sound like the same thing,” your laugh sounded nervous, nearly breathless.

“Not really no,” he laughed lightly. Shuffling even closer to you, leg pressing against your knee. The smell of your shampoo overwhelmed him, he had always loved it and in his intoxication, it was the most potent smell ever.

“What are you doing,” your voice dropped down to a whisper. Where his hand had earlier been on your cheek, he pressed a little kiss.

“I’m just,” Harry didn’t know what he was doing. He just wanted to feel your skin under his lips, he just wanted to be close to you. “Helping ya’ out with tattoo ideas.”

He pressed another series of kisses to your cheek, eliciting a sigh from your lips. You didn’t push him away, and his hand that had been scratching at your waist gripped onto your skin.

“’s just me,” he babbled. “Skin’s so warm, can’t help –” he breathed in deeply, hand on your waist moving to your knee. He gently pushed your leg aside as he settled himself in closer to you. His lips were by your jaw, and he wanted so badly to feel your own mouth under his. “– can’t help m’self.”

You didn’t move under him, except for a single hand coming up to grip the neckline of his shirt. “Le’ me,” he pleaded, voice low. “Please, let me.”

You tilted your head up a bit towards him, lips ever so lightly parted. “Go ahead.”

He took that as all the invitation he needed, mouth sliding from your chin to cover yours. He sighed into your mouth, knee coming up to the couch as he repositioned himself.

He kissed you deep, tasting you for the first time and not able to get enough of it. Your hand on his shirt slid around his neck, gripping tightly onto his skin as you pulled him closer. His hand gripped your leg, thumb rubbing small circles through the loose materials of your sweats.

“’s good, you’re so –” Harry couldn’t form one coherent sentence. He wanted to feel you everywhere, he wanted to cross this uncharted territory and feel your skin on his. A part of him, a tiny part of him in the back of his head was telling him this wasn’t right but he was pissed and he wanted you. Badly.

“Harry,” your voice was a dream. He had moved his mouth down your jaw again, this time biting and licking as he moved down your neck.

“Jus’ wanna kiss – want a taste.”

He lifted himself from you for a moment, helping you reposition yourself so that you could lay on your back, Harry hovering nearly awkwardly over you but he didn’t care. It was a flurry of lips on skin and quick moving hands. He pushed a hand under your sweatshirt, delighted in finding you not wearing a bra, while you shared lime flavoured kisses.

You were pushing your hips against his, rubbing against him in a way that made his breath catch in the back of his throat. He was hard and heavy in his sweatpants, drunk enough that he if he kept grinding against your hip in the way he was now, he wouldn’t last very long.

“Fuck,” you whimpered from under him, his fingers pinching and pulling at your nipple under your sweatshirt while his mouth met yours again.

He snaked his hand down your tummy, only hesitating when he met the band of your sweatpants. “Want to,” he panted, “wanna feel you.”

“Yes.” The single word was a moan from your lips, as his hand pushed past your pants. Fingers snaking under your underwear, he nearly choked when he pushed through your folds.

“Fuck me,” he never wanted to leave you. “You always get this wet?”

You only whimpered from under him again, head pushing into the cushion of the couch as he circled your clit. He focused on the way you whined and pleaded under him; the way you jolted when he pushed a finger inside of you, and then two.

You were warm, he couldn’t get over how hot your skin was all over and how much it made him melt. His lips were gliding all over your skin, sucking sweetly on your neck and moving roughly over your mouth. Catching your moans into his open mouth as if he could keep them forever.

“I – Harry please don’t stop,” you were squirming underneath of him. Arching yourself off the couch, pushing yourself against him.

Rush through his body at how desperate you sounded, at the way his name was moaned from your lips. “Cum fo’ me darling,” he curled his fingers inside of you, pushing every spot that made you gasp.

He worked you over the edge, eyes narrowing on every move you made. And when you clenched around his fingers, thighs clamping together and back rising from the bed, he wished he could stay in this moment forever.

After a moment you peaked your eyes open, lazy smile on your lips as he pulled you in for a deep kiss. Wet fingers slipping out from under your sweats, gripping your skin.

“So gorgeous, you – fuck –” he bucked into your hand as he felt you palm over his bulge. Your lips pressed into this straining neck, your turn to lick and bite at his skin while you grabbed at his cock over his pants.

“That’s it,” he praises, hips bucking against your hand. Your fingers trickled under the band of his sweatpants, gripping him blindly. Your other hand was patting his shoulder, nudging him with a muffled voice. “Harry, move up a bit.”

He scrambled up to his knees, pulling you up with him until he sat with his back against the couch with you on his lap. You were pushing up his shirt, kissing at his neck while your hand gently jerked him off.

“Jesus you’re –” he fell into your touch, leaning against you. The whine that left his throat as your hand left his cock came from deep in his chest. Watching closely as you spat into your hand before shifting over him again.

He couldn’t help the way he gripped your thighs as you worked your hand over him, until he was bucking his hips into your hand. A whining mess, begging you over and over again to keep going, to not stop and to never leave him.

“You are – fuck,” he held you tight as he dropped is head in the crook of your neck, breathing uneven as he came on your hand. After a moment he pulled you in for a sloppy kiss, helping you off the couch with wobbly legs to get the both of you cleaned up.

November 20th

He remembers that day like it was yesterday. The way you whined and whimpered under him for the first time, the way he found himself intoxicated (and not just by the alcohol).

Shy smiles were shared as he offered you stay the night, too late and both still too intoxicated to drive. You had decided you were too hot in your sweatshirt and grabbed one of his shirts instead. He pulled you in close under his sheets, kissing over your exposed skin and wanting to melt in the warmth coming off your body.

And apparently, you had completely forgotten about your sweatshirt.

The next morning neither of you said anything. Nothing of the sorts was even brought up again until a week later when you guys were out for a drink and he suddenly ached to have you under him. He had kissed you outside the bar, pulling you home with him until you were sat on his thigh grinding and moaning against him.

It had continued that way for a couple more weeks, neither of you really making any mention of it except for slipping hands under clothing and stealing kisses after a couple drinks.

That was, until you had sex for the first time. He was barely drunk, only needing one drink as an excuse to call you. Bugging you nonstop from outside the bar, wanting you to be there with him. He had managed to get you to drive over and pick him up, in your sweats and his shirt because you had been just about to go to bed.

You had walked him into his place, making sure he drank two glasses of water before he pulled you into bed with him, saying that since you were already ready for bed you may as well just stay the night there with him.

Cuddling into you, he couldn’t help kissing his way down until soon he had you on your back with his head between your thighs. Telling you over and over again that it was a ‘thank you’ for coming to pick him up.

But it wasn’t enough for him to grind against the mattress, while he pulled an orgasm out of you. He was greedy, he wanted another one, he wanted to feel you everywhere.

He eased you up to your knees, bending you over on the mattress with your ass in the air while he fumbled with the condom. It was everything he could’ve dreamt of and more, so much more. He couldn’t get enough, and didn’t think he ever would.  Holding your close against him, chest pressed to your back as he praised you endlessly. You were just as warm around him as you were his fingers, and he had to grip you so tight to make sure it was real.

Both ending the night passed out side by side, he knew the next morning he needed to say something.

September 19th

“Bit sore,” you laughed, following him around the corner from the washroom. He was getting some breakfast ready, and the sight of you standing in his shirt and nothing else made him want to take you over the counter again.

“Sorry about that,” he smiled, mind worrying over what to say next. “I – last night was fun, yeah?”

Leaning against the counter next to him, grabbing a handful of grapes from the bowl in front of you. “It was,” you voice was quiet, nearly timid.

“I –,” he paused again, unable to form the sentences he wanted to. ‘I like fooling around with you’ or ‘I like fucking you’ didn’t sound nice rolling off the tongue. “I like doing… what we’re doing. And I want to keep doing what we’re doing. If you do too.” He bit his lips together, mentally cringing at how awkward he sounded.

“I do too,” you said, averting your eyes from his as you nodded. “Both single, and it’s been a while, and…” Harry was relieved to see you also didn’t seem to know how to voice your feelings. “We’re friends.”

He nodded slowly, watching your every move. “Then, we’re doing this? Don’t need to wait for an excuse to have you come over anymore?”

Laughing lightly, you finally met his eyes. “Yeah,” you voice was airy. “But if either of us meet someone or need to end it, we do. Right?”

“Right,” he nodded, almost too eagerly and the new agreement. “What do you want for breakfast?”

November 23rd

Apparently, he couldn’t escape you outside of his house either. Deciding that wallowing by himself wasn’t going to get him anywhere, he thought that maybe a run would help clear his mind. It worked, for a good ten minutes before he stopped dead in his tracks.

Blocks away from his place he saw a red car parked. The same make and model of your red car.

Was it you? Could it be you? What are you doing so close to his house? He hadn’t spoken to you in weeks, not since the fight that made you leave in such a rush that you left your shampoo bottles in his shower.

Tentatively walking towards the parked car, not seeing the pendant that you kept hanging off the review mirror. He decided it was too risky, that if it was your car, he wasn’t ready to see you, especially if he was snooping around your car.

But the car was still there the next day. Deciding fuck it, and walked towards it, hoping he didn’t look suspicious for whatever reason. As he got closer, he saw for a fact that there was no pendant hanging from the review mirror, and that those dents by the door were not there.

It wasn’t you.

He didn’t know if he was upset or relieved. He almost missed those dents on the door, always telling you to get it fixed. Stubborn as always, constantly telling him that “I don’t need to get it fixed if it doesn’t affect how it drives.”

That car was the last thing he saw before you left his house the last time he saw you.  

November 5th

“What are you feeling for dinner?”

You hummed, opening up his fridge to stare at the contents. “We can make…” you were mumbling to yourself, examining the contents. “Do you have rice? We can make a stir fry,” you squinted in the fridge.

“Sounds good,” reaching through his cupboards for a pan, as you grabbed a cutting board and a knife, always preferring to chop the vegetables. “How’s your week?”

“Fine,” mumbling from where you stood across from him in the kitchen. “Work was the same, not to stressful right now which is nice. I, uh –”

He looked up at the hesitation in your voice. “I had a date.”

He nearly let go of the pot in his hand. He felt his stomach dropping, happy to be occupied with turning on the stove as he didn’t have to face you. “Yeah?” trying to keep his face calm before turning around to you again. “With who?”

“A guy from work,” you were averting your eyes, twisting the ring around your middle finger. You were nervous, he realized.

“How’d it go?”

“Okay,” you shrugged, looking down at your hands as they worked chopping the onion on the board in front of you. “We um –”

Finally you looked up at him. “We didn’t do anything.”

He didn’t know what to say. “Didn’t do it for you?” He tried to joke, but based off your expression he realized that really wasn’t what he should’ve said.

“Just thought you should know,” you looked away from him again, voice quiet. “Since y’know, we’re…”

Condoms had been long forgotten between the two of you. It was a silent agreement, that one should tell the other if they were going to be having sex with someone else. But for some reason, Harry had never imagined that conversation happening.

“Are you,” he tried to not let his voice shake. “Are you telling me you want to sleep with him?”

“No,” you shrugged slightly, pushing the onion around with the knife. “Don’t think that’ll happen. Just thought you should know.”

He willed himself to seem unbothered. “Okay.”

Back towards you again, pouring some oil into the pan on the burner. He could feel you watching him. Spinning back around, he saw you with your lips pressed to a thin line.

“What if I did want to sleep with him though?”

“You said you didn’t.” He desperately needed to change the subject.

“But what if?” For the first time, he realized he couldn’t read what you were thinking.

“Are you saying you want to end this?” Avoiding the question once again, he hated himself for the way he did it.

You blinked quickly, as if physically affected by his words. “I mean no, but,” you paused, and he panicked over what the end of that sentence would be. “What we’re doing its not – I mean what are we doing?”

He hated the tone of your voice, he hated how anxious you sounded. But instead of wrapping you into his arms like he wanted – and should have – he tried to swallow back any feelings he thought he might have for you. “We – we’re both taking advantage of the situation, no? Both being single and all.”

Your eyes narrowed on him. “So that’s it then? Call me over when you’ve had a few drinks and your hand isn’t enough to get you off?”

Fuck. “Darling that’s not –”

“Don’t. I practically live here, Harry. It’s not just ‘taking advantage of the situation’.”

The oil popped on the pan behind him, burner getting too hot. Swearing under his breath, turning back around to shove the pan off the heat. “I have half my things here. Wasn’t like this when we were just friends.”

Facing you again, he breathed out a sigh trying to calm himself down. “You didn’t have to bring your things over.”

You snapped your head up at his words. “That’s a low fucking blow.”

Suddenly you were moving away from him, away from the kitchen. He swore to himself again, hating himself for the way he handled the conversation. He hated himself for the way he avoided where the conversation seemed to be heading, to having him admit he wanted more from your relationship.

Calling your name behind you, watching with wide eyes as you grabbed your bag form the table, throwing it over your shoulder. “What are you…?”

“’m leaving.” Muttering as you brushed past him, heading towards the door.

Fuck. “Wait no,” he reached for your shoulder, hating the way you shrugged him off although you still spun around to him. “I – I didn’t mean it like that. I just,” he needed to say something, anything to get you to stay. “What are you saying?”

You sighed, dipping down to tug on your shoes. “I don’t know what I’m saying Harry. Maybe,” you sighed, gazing up at him. You looked tired, and sad. He hated it. “Maybe this was a bad idea. Maybe we should stop.”

All his blood left his body. No. “You want to stop?” This time he wasn’t able to hide the shake in his voice.

“I gotta go Harry.” You turned away from him, reaching for the doorknob.

“Wait,” he repeated your name over and over. “Don’t leave please –”

You refused to look at him, spinning away from him. He continued calling after you, pleading you to come back but soon you were backing out of his driveway and turning around the corner.

November 24th

In hindsight, he realized he should’ve just told you he wanted you all to himself. He didn’t handle it well; he knew that then and he knows it now.

What he didn’t know at the time, what he refused to let himself think was that he wanted more with you and probably always had.

Recalling the first-time boundaries were crossed when he kissed you; the jealousy he felt when he thought about someone else being able to see the tattoo on your hip.

He remembered when you had gotten that tattoo, the skin still sensitive and wrapped in protective plastic. He still kissed at it, pulling small whimpers from the back of your throat.

He supposes that boundaries were disappearing when you started bringing over and leaving your things at his place, including those goddamn shampoo bottles. You were right to question him over the nature of your relationship, but he was too stupid and stubborn in the moment that he chose to push you away instead of admitting his feelings.

Fiddling with his phone in his hand, opening and closing your contact in his texts. He had drafted countless unsent messages, but had ultimately left you in radio silence.

And how fucked was that?

He didn’t care if it had been three weeks, or two weeks and five days to be exact. He pressed his phone to his ear, holding his breath as the phone on the other end rang.

After the second ringer, he was sure you wouldn’t pick up. He was about to end the call altogether, not having the heart to face your voicemail when a quiet “hello” spoke through the line.

“Hi,” he couldn’t breath. “It’s me – it’s Harry.”

“I know,” your voice sent a jolt through his chest.

“Didn’t think you would pick up.” He laughed humourlessly, realizing in all the fake conversations he had with you in his head he never really was prepared.

“I can hang up if you wan –”

“No,” he spoke quickly. “Sorry I just…” I love you. “I just want to talk to you, need to talk to you.”

You remained silent on the other end. “Can we meet? I can come over are we can get coffee or anything, up to you, I just need to see you.”

You were silent again, and he needed to check his phone to make sure the call was still ongoing. “I can be at yours in 15.”

His heart flipped. “Yes, that’s perfect. I – yes, see you soon.”

It was probably the longest fifteen minutes of his life. He spent it pacing around his place, trying to tidy up but ultimately not getting anything done. By the ten minute mark he was sure you weren’t coming, but right on time you were pulling that beat up red car into his driveway.

The sight of you was making him flush. Seeing you in his space, in his company like nothing had ever changed.

“How are you?” He could hear the nerves in his own voice.

“Fine,” the word was muttered, as you tentatively sat down on his couch. The very spot he had first kissed you, he realized.

“Can I get you anything?”

“No, Harry, I’m not here to chit chat.”

He nodded, knowing you were right and sat far across from you on the couch, watching as you hugged your knees to your chest.

“I know, I –” he looked down at his hands, fiddling with his rings. “I miss you. And I’m really sorry for everything, for the way I handled everything.”

You looked up at him at his words, fidgeting with your sleeves. “I miss you too.”

“I really… I really fucked up and losing you was the last thing I wanted.” He needed to look away from you. “You were right, about us. We shouldn’t – I shouldn’t have let things get to be the way they did.”

“What do you mean?” Your voice was small, calculated.

“I mean… I was being selfish. I – fuck I wanted more and I was being selfish with you.”

He tried to gage your reaction, but just like last time he wasn’t able to read your expression. “When you asked me what we were doing, when you said all that I panicked. Thought you might try and end things, I was too in my ass about my feelings I just… fucked up.”

“You wanted more?”

“I did – I do.”

You were quiet, too quiet. After a moment in silence, you suddenly stood. “I have to go to the washroom.”

He could only nod, standing as well as he watched you disappear behind the door. Grabbing himself a glass of water, having no idea what you were thinking in this moment. He was wrong before, when he thought that those fifteen minutes were the longest of his life. This moment right now seemed to last so much longer.

You finally reappeared a couple minutes later, joining him in the kitchen but still standing at a distance. He had no idea what to say, he wished for you to say something, anything.

“You kept all my things.”

“What?”

You pointed to the bathroom behind you. “All my things, my toothbrush my shampoo… figured you’d throw them out.”

He smiled a weak smile. “Would never. Can’t bring myself to. Plus, you know I love the smell of your shampoo.”

“I’m sorry I left that day.” You were fiddling with the sleeves of your shirt again.

“Don’t be, I was a dick. I didn’t know … I didn’t know how to deal with my feelings. Couldn’t get my shit together. I just didn’t want to lose you.”

As you nodded, he was relieved to see your expression start softening a bit.

“I need you in my life, in any capacity. If you need time I get it, but I just can’t… I need to know you’ll be in my life.”

You were worrying your lip, slowly nodding as you took in his words. “I shouldn’t have pushed you that day. I was trying to… it wasn’t fair of me.”

“Stop apologizing darling,” he liked the way the pet name rolled off his tongue again. The two of you stood in silence for a moment again.

“I wanted more too.” Nearly giving himself whiplash for how quickly he snapped his head towards you at your words. You weren’t looking at him, eyes dropped down to where your hands tapped nervously against the counter.

“I – you did?”

You only nodded, watching as you twirled your ring around your finger.

“Never said anything…”

Glancing up at him finally, crossing your arms over your chest. “Well…neither did you. Plus, I thought I was, I don’t know, making it obvious. Spending nearly every night here and all… I was sort of trying to bring it up that day we fought.”

“Truly fucked that up, didn’t I?” He rubbed his hand over his forehead, pushing his hair up. You only hummed, and his heart nearly soared when you saw the corner of your lips twitch in a smile.

He couldn’t help the smile starting to build on his lips either, trying to swallow down his anxiety before asking you what he wanted to. “Do you still?”

“Do I still what?” You were really making him say it.

“Do you still… want more. With me.” He watched you intently, watched your eyes flick away from his; to your hands to the counter and around the room, before meeting his own again.

“Well… came over, didn’t I?”

Heat rushed through his body as he processed your words. “Is that a yes?” His words were a rush of a breath. He found himself walking across the kitchen towards you until he was standing in front of you, keeping a gap but still being the closest he’d been to you all night.

“Yes.” Every nerve in his body urged to jump forward towards you at your whispered word, but he held himself back.

“Good,” his voice matched yours: quiet, breathless.

He wanted to pull you in his arms, to push you against the counter leaving no room between the two of you but he also didn’t want to assume you’d jump right into it; maybe you’d want a bit of time, maybe you were still mad –

Any second thought flew out of his mind when the light touch of your fingertips met his neck, pulling yourself closer to him. His own hand instinctively wrapped around your waist, other hand sliding to your cheek, fitting with you like nothing ever changed.

Mouth quickly met his, and it was like kissing you for the first time all over again. You were still just as warm against him, still smelt like the shampoo that you left in his shower.

Your lips were light against his at first, a ghost of a touch as you pressed yourself against him and bunched the collar of his shirt in a fist. His hand on your cheek moved to tilt your head up to him slightly, as he held you tight against him not wanting you to ever leave.

A small sigh left your lips as he took a step forward, pushing lightly back to trap you between the counter and himself. Kiss quickly deepening as you let him taste deeper into your mouth, wandering hands pushing up under your shirt.

You were tugging at his hair as he pulled small whines from the back of your throat, gripping your thigh tightly as he helped you sit up on the counter. Mouth leaving yours with a pant, he reveled in the way you hooked your legs around him to keep him against you.

“Missed you,” he kissed the corner of your mouth. “So,” lips moved down your jaw. “Fucking much.”

He loved the sigh you made at his words; he loved every sound you made. Resting his forehead on yours for a moment, lips barely brushing. “You’re so warm darling. Missed kissing you, missed being with you.”

“Me too,” you whispered, pecking a small kiss to his mouth.

“I get to be with you, right?”

“Yes,” his heart soared at the single word. He was enamoured with the smile that took over your face. “Might still be a bit mad a you though.”

His smile matched yours, pressing a sweet kiss to the corner of your mouth. “Sounds like I have some making up to do.”

[fakecrfan]

POV: You wake up in the TMA universe at the start of season 1.

You find yourself on the streets of London, cold and confused.

You try to figure out what happened and get home. You discover the place you lived no longer exists. The place you worked no longer exists.

You try to call the numbers of family, friends, anyone you knew. Baffled voices that you don’t recognize answer you, and then hang up.

As you're wandering around the streets getting increasingly terrified, you pass by the Magnus Institute. Then, everything makes sense.

You hurry in and blurt out: "I would like to make a statement"

Rosie smiles politely.

“Alright, let’s get you the proper forms then.”

She tells you that the Archivist, Jonathan Sims, will see you in a moment. As you are waiting for him, you recall what happens to people who give statements to Jonathan Sims. Unceasing bad dreams. Unrelenting panic attacks. Enough that Jess Tyrell stopped being able to go out in public.

"Ah," you think. "I will not do that then."

You leave in a hurry. Outside, you realize:

oh, I'm the only one who can stop the apocalypse now, aren't i

You shiver. That thought can wait, you think. For now you need to find... somewhere to stay. You are effectively homeless. No, not effectively. You are straight up homeless.

You pull out your wallet to pay for food. Your card is declined. You try to use cash, only to be told it’s counterfeit. Everything is just a little too much to the left of your reality for you to navigate.

Finally you find social services of some kind. They ask for your information, including your NIN. you aren't surprised when they say the info they have on file for that number is.... not you. You are disappointed though.

They help you to a homeless shelter. You sit on your cot and cry self-pityingly for a bit, and then that pressure comes back to your mind:

The world is going to end. You know the world is going to end. You're the only one who can do anything about it.

You turn over and decide that's something you can deal with in the morning.

----

The next day, you think about it again.

"That's something I can deal with when I have an apartment," is what you think then.

So that becomes your next project. Finding your footing as a displaced person. Social services helps but it's... sporadic. It takes months for you to get more stable housing.

When you lie down on the couch of the new, well, new associate you've made, you once again remember that the world is going to end. That you are the only one who can do anything about it.

"I'll think about that when I get a job"

-----

Time continues to pass. As you are trying to get on your feet, you make feeble attempts to... start something.

You go to the Magnus Institute a few times. But it's hard. You've always had terrible social anxiety,. And everyone there seems so cold. You can feel eyes on your back: staring, watching your every move. Normally that alone is enough to make you quit for the day.

A lot of times, the main cast you remember is out doing research. When they are there, you are about to walk up and speak to them when the anxiety hits you again.

What if Elias sees you talking to them? What if he kills you?

You decide to retreat for a little while, then. Just to think of a better plan.

You spend the next month getting your first job in this new world. You start a timeline of when you think the apocalypse is going to happen, but remembering the canon dates is hard. It's not a very helpful timeline, and so you give it up.

Eventually you think the best thing to do is to wait until Elias has been arrested and then talk to the others. When Elias is in prison, he can't murder you for revealing your plans.

This means Sasha and Tim will die. But--they might have died anyway, even with your intervention. Who’s to say? Anyway, you’re not the one who will kill them. It’s not your fault.

You scan the news every day for things about the Magnus Institute, particularly the head of it getting arrested.

During this time, you do a little better. You have a nice apartment now, you think. Nice by your own standards, at least. You decorate the place a little. Get some video games that you like--or well, they aren't the same ones as in your world, but close enough you think?

Months pass.

One day it hits you that maybe the papers would never actually report on Elias being arrested.

Oh shit, you think.

You go back to the Magnus Institute then. By this point, Rosie recognizes you. She grants you the same expression one grants a wayward alley cat. You ask who the current head is. You are told "Peter Lukas."

Shit.

"Can I make a statement?"

Rosie looks nervous. "Um, the Archivist is on medical leave."

"Okay can I talk to one of his assistants?"

Rosie gets this very tired look in her eyes.

"I'll... ask."

Rosie phones the archives extension

it rings

it rings

it rings

"They've all really been through it recently," Rosie tells you. "They don't--like to talk to anyone else, now."

"I have to talk to them," you say. "Um, can you--can you tell Martin Blackwood specifically that I need to talk to him? That it's about Jon?"

Martin is--you like Martin. Martin will be nice and safe. He'll be easier to talk to than Melanie at this point, or Basira. Still, Rosie looks tired again.

"I'll have a chat with him," Rosie says. "How about you go home for now, and I'll call you when I've talked to him."

"But--"

You're bad at this. You were always bad at this. You can barely sign up for anything on your own. Your mother has done so many calls and filled out so many forms for you.

You never cultivated the skill of standing in a lobby and insisting to talk to someone. Maybe you'll just irritate Rosie and she'll blacklist you if you dig in your heels now. Anyway, you're already so tired from this. You think about going home, and playing some Medal of Honour IV.

"Fine," you say.

You go home. You play the game. You sleep.

You're not giving up, you say to yourself. You're just--biding your time.

Rosie does not call you.

It pains you, but you realize you have to go back in and ask to speak to someone again. You'll go today after work, you decide.

No, wait, you're too tired from work today. You'll go tomorrow.

Maybe on the weekend.

----

You finally go back

Rosie tells you she just--hasn't been able to get a hold of Martin.

"Fine," you say. "Any of the other assistants."

Rosie actually looks a bit worried for you. "Um, they're not--they don't take well to unexpected visitors. Let me wait and chat them up about it."

You do not listen this time.

You march down into the basement level where the archives are. The door is--well. Shit. It's barricaded? You knock. You keep knocking.

"Melanie! Basira!" you say. "I have to talk!"

The door opens too quickly. You barely get a glimpse of Melanie's snarl before she strikes and your vision goes white.

She hits you a few times. No knives, just fists. You hear Basira in the backround, barking for Melanie to stand down. Once there is an opening and you can blearily see again, you run away in terror.

It's not--you didn't intend to run. You were just afraid.

----

You go home, and realize that Melanie didn't even really hit you in a super serious way. Nothing that would warrant a hospital trip, at least. Nothing that has left you with a lot of pain, outside of the immediate terror of physical violence.

You probably could have stuck it out there. You should have.

You think about all the months--no, years now--that have passed without you making any progress.

"But that’s not my fault,” you say.

"I was having a really hard time. I was homeless. I've been struggling with my mental health. I still have to keep the rent paid and feed myself."

"It's not my fault. It's not."

"I will do something. Just--I need some more time."

You sleep.

You decide to wait a bit for your bruises to heal up before going back.

When you do drag yourself back to the Institute, now there is a PTSD reaction to going into the Institute on top of the social anxiety.

You leave quickly. Rosie looks so sad for you.

You do try to go back. You do try to get back in contact with the Archives, or go back when Jon is back up. But there's always something. Not something directly stopping you. Just--

Tiredness. Work. Illness. Doctor's appointments. Panic attacks. The Archives staff being unreachable.

The world is going to end. You're the only one who can stop it.

"That's not true though," you think. "I mean, technically anyone could. I just have a little more information that could help."

"It's never one person's fault," you tell yourself as you crawl into bed after another flight of anxiety struck you as you were about to cross the street to the Institute. "It's everything. It's--a whole system. It's Jonah's fault really. If I don't--I'm not to blame."

“I’m not to blame.”

----

You are playing Medal of Honour V when your phone lights up with a notification that there was an outburst of violence at a place known as the Magnus Institute, and billionaire Peter Lukas has disappeared in the confusion.

You should get up. It’s going to happen, and happen soon. You hand twitches on the controller.

You remember a quote you saw before you ended up here, on Facebook of all things.

"Don't wonder what you'd be doing in Nazi Germany. Whatever you're doing now, is what you would have been doing then."

Because bad things were happening in the world all the time, your preachy Facebook aunt said. There is always genocide, and famine, and war. It’s not some movie fantasy from the past.

You think about that. About the horrors in your world. Those movements that you retweeted support for and occasionally donated $5 to. The protests you awkwardly passed by on your way to work.

You quietly realize what kind of person you are. What you would have been doing in Nazi Germany, or the civil rights era in the U.S., or during the catastrophes in your own world, or right now.

It's what you were always going to do.

And so you get back to Medal of Honour V.

----

You're still dreading the apocalypse of course. It won’t be easy.  It will be around six months to a year of full on torture, specifically designed to be the worst you have ever felt. Something about that soothes you. Something about knowing you are a victim too, or maybe knowing that you’ll be punished.

But--it will end, and then you'll be alright. Everything will return to normal, and you can go back to your apartment and your job and your games. It’s not all that bad.

You feel a twinge of guilt for Martin and Jon, who you could ave intervened for. You feel more than a twinge for the worlds the Entities will infect after. But--maybe it will all work out okay. Maybe the universe is a kind place. Maybe other worlds will be able to handle the fears better.

Who knows! There is always hope!

----

[When the sky turns red and the great Eye opens, when you start to hear the howls of your apartment neighbors through the wall--

Nothing happens to you. You are fine. It does not touch you.

Oh.]

[kamilah-the-bloodqueen]

Remember Me (4/???)

I AM SO FUCKING SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG TO FINISH. Honestly I lost a lot of motivation to write after Bloodbound because PB has greatly decreased in the quality of their books. I am still trying to find the time and motivation to write and am forcing myself to finish my series at the very least but if I am being completely honest I feel like the Kamilah fandom has died, PB’s books mostly suck and I don’t even really play choices anymore. Who knows, I’m trying to learn to write the code for episode so maybe I’ll start posting my own stories and choices on that platform with better plot, smut and less diamond focus since it would be a hobby. This chapter is ASS and mostly just moves the plot along - so if you want action I would wait for a different series or later chapter - okay bye!

Pairing: Adrian x MC x Kamilah (Amy)

Tags: I paused the tag list since it’s been so fucking long but if you want a tag please let me know because I’m pretty sure most people think this series died with me :)

Words: ~1500 (Short because I needed to finish a chapter to motivate me to finish the next)

Kamilah took a deep breath as she knelt on the floor beside Adrian, carefully wrapping her arms around her brother, her heart sinking with every sob that left his lips. She didn’t speak, she knew her words would come off too harshly and she couldn’t blame Adrian for feeling that way, after all she knew how much he loved Amy. 

“Adrian, I’m sorry. I...I truly don’t know what to say.” As their eyes met Kamilah saw exactly how devastated he was, and even in her two thousand years of life, she had never been in his situation. 

“Kamilah, do you think she’ll...well she says we’re just friends but do you think she’ll fall in love with me again?” His lips trembled, his hands shaking and his eyes glistened with tears. 

“I don’t know. As much as I believe love is a silly mortal affair, and a simple chemical reaction, it can’t be forced but I’m sure if you just be yourself and do your best to be her friend that any romantic feelings will follow.” Kamilah moved away as Adrian calmed himself, both of them passing a nod of agreement as he wiped his face clean with tissues. 

“Your wisdom has always guided me well Kamilah.” 

“I suppose that is two thousand sixty three years of experience speaking.” 

“Heh, I guess my two hundred years don’t nearly compare...” 

“You’re still a simple child in my eyes, I just took a liking to you.”

“Well, thank you Kamilah. It seems I owe you quite a bit.”

They both stood from the floor and took seats on Adrian’s office couch, Kamilah folding her legs and crossing her arms and Adrian crossing his ankles and folding his arms. 

“We’re practically siblings - you don’t owe me anything. Just try to take care of yourself and well...don’t expect anything from Amy. I’m sure this is difficult for her, difficult is an understatement. I can’t imagine what she’s experiencing.”

“Maybe I’ve been too selfish Kamilah...I’ve been thinking more about what I want from her instead of focusing on if she’s okay or what she wants.” 

“Sometimes it’s alright to be selfish, and I can understand why you felt that way but you are correct, we need to focus on what Amy wants now, not what she wanted before the accident.”

“You’re absolutely right. I can only hope for the best...I just really...I really wanted...I believed she was the one.” 

“I know you did. I wanted her to be the one for you as well, I still hope she comes back to you Adrian.”

“Me too.” 

Adrian’s phone buzzed at the same time Kamilah’s did, Lily having texted both of them to rendezvous with her and Jax at Amy’s old apartment to talk about the recent events. 

“We should go, but do you feel okay?” Kamilah patted Adrian’s shoulder as they both stood from the couch.

“Yes I think so.” They hurried to the elevator and got into Adrian’s black Mercedes as they navigated towards Lily’s apartment. Once they arrived Lily greeted them before guiding them up to the apartment where Jax waited on the couch with a beer in hand.

“Hey guys...how ya doin?” His words were slurred and he was obviously under the influence to a decent extent. 

“Tell me you have something other than beer Lily.” Kamilah grimaced as Jax took another swig of the beer. She had no problem with beer but she hated that brand and would rather remain sober than allow herself to drink that brand. 

“Yeah, vodka or wine?”

“Vodka.” Kamilah spoke without hesitation while Adrian grabbed a beer from the fridge and took a seat next to Jax on the couch. Lily began to pour Kamilah a shot, and once the glass was full Kamilah took the bottle from her and took two large gulps before sitting on the leather chair and holding the bottle with one hand. 

“So we’re here to get drunk? I thought we were supposed to talk about Amy?” Kamilah’s voice broke the deathly silence that filled the room. Adrian leaned in the door before removing his tie, unbuttoning his shirt and, grabbing three bottles of the cheap beer and sinking into the recliner opposite of Lily and Jax. 

“I didn’t want to drink...well grieve...alone. I mean I can’t do this with Amy anymore...well I could but it wouldn’t be the same... and I have my friend back but it’s really just...it’s not the same. I don’t know I just didn’t...you can leave if you want but I didn’t want to grieve alone…” Lily began to sob, her tears falling into her glass of wine as Jax and Adrian frowned. Kamilah held her stoic expression, but even the alcohol could not erase the ache she felt in her chest.

“I see, well I guess we all process grief differently…” Kamilah spoke calmly, but deep down she felt her own sense of grief. As she gazed around she realized how messy Jax’s hair and clothes were, and how exhausted and drained Lily was. “You guys look a mess…”

“Thanks Kamilah.” Jax drunkenly snickered and Lily sniffled. Adrian remained quiet, taking a long drink from the bottle in his hand before switching to the other glass and downing it just as quickly. 

“Does this not fucking hurt you?” Lily drunkenly scolded as Kamilah flinched ever so slightly. None of them had ever heard Lily so fragile, so devastated. She had every reason to be - she had lost her best friend - even though Amy had survived the accident, the memories were all gone and everything they had once shared was gone. 

“It...does...I was just remarking on-”

“I don’t care about your remarks, at least not now. Don’t you fucking get it? I lost my fucking best friend and I have to watch her find everything again! Do you know how that fucking feels Kamilah? I’m sure you do from all your time as a vampire, but please, for the love of god and for the sake of our friendship just shut the fuck up. I can’t handle this.” Lily’s hand gripped on her bottle as it shattered against her palm, the beer pouring onto the tile floor and seeping into the edges of the carpet. 

“I...apologize Lily…”

“It’s fine! It’s fine! Everything is fine I guess. I don’t know I just...I’m not coping well...and I feel guilty for saying that because Amy has it the hardest of us all and yet here I am getting wasted to be in her position - to forget everything while also being the person who put her in this position in the first fucking place. I don’t think it’ll ever be the same as it was before…”

“Maybe that’s for the best…” Adrian finally joined the conversation. Kamilah, Lily and Jax turned to face him as he swirled the bottle around in his hand - his brown eyes shiny from the tears that had built up. “...we all lost someone...Amy was a different person to each of us...but maybe we have to lose that person for some reason…”

“Adrian, do not try to give me that ‘it’s for the best’ bullshit.” Lily took a deep breath as Adrian shrugged. 

“I’m not. I guess it’s just the alcohol talking, but I was going to propose to Amy that night and maybe it was a sign I shouldn’t have, or maybe the world is punishing me for my sins...but fuck all of that...it’s...it’s a forgotten memory and we need to forget just like Amy...”  

---------------- Amy’s POV ------------------

It was a weird feeling that I couldn’t describe. Having people who seemed like strangers tell me all about the things we’ve done together gave me such comfort and anxiety at the same time. I wanted to believe and trust each of them but at the same time, it would be so easy to lie about it. Maybe I’m just being paranoid about the situation - nobody would really benefit from creating an elaborate story just to mess with my mind. 

God this IV really stings...and now that I’m thinking about it, my ribs really hurt too. I should call the doctor or nurse but it’s nearly midnight. I mean it’s their job but they’re humans and I don’t want to be that super needy patient…

At least that Lily girl seems genuine, I can see why I was her best friend. I appreciate her sincerity more than I can verbalize to her. I’m still wary of Jax though - that man looks like he could kill in an instant and I don’t want to get on his bad side. I’m glad they’re friends with each other though - they seem to get along really well and...Adrian. Poor bastard. I broke his heart. I broke his heart and I can’t even help it. How am I supposed to even really process that whole fucking mess. He’s so sweet and gentle and genuine and I can’t even reciprocate it back to him...but maybe with time I could…? But Kamilah...she makes my heart skip a beat too...but she’s so unlike anyone I’ve even taken interest in - callous and stoic most of the time with very few soft spots. It wouldn’t be any type of understatement to claim my heart is as confused as my head. 

[kimtaegis]

WOMAN HIIII!!!!💖💖HOW IS MY ANGEL DOINGG??? babi i love youuuu<333 sooo i wanted to let uk that im doing find and i wanted to check in on u too!! anywasyysysysy i saw a couple of posts abt u being overwhelmed and im aware of u feeling this way, u do quite sometimes and just like the prev times, firstly i wanna say that i understand. and i feel the same way most of the time. uk when i had just become an army i spent a lot of time being an army w/o any social media and i still like the vibes of that time than my time spent on tumblr/exploring twt. anyways, i just wanna say that its okay and u should give yourself a break. pls take care of yoself. watch run btw or wtw and dont follow the updates. will 100% give u peace. like, trust me on this one.

secondly, abt u feeling,,,,,, insignificant. woman. w all due respect, shut the genuine fuck up. do u not know how impactful are u?!?!? do u not know how amazing u are?? ure literally an angel okay?? irdk what my tumblr feed wouldve looked like if it werent for u. ure amazing. ure kind. ure beautiful inside out. yes not millions know u/follow u but u still matter to a lot of ppl and thats enough. its not imp to be at the top,,, ultimately if u think abt it even bts have pretty much each other and a few friends outside of it and thas allll that matters hon. everyone has a diff journey and we should never compare ourselves w others. i struggle w it too and ik its easier said than done but when u stop comparing yourself even for just a bit, u see how bful and mess free life is.

sometimes i feel like these long paras may be annoying for u like no one asked n**ka fkn relax😬but i really wish to like,,,,, be there for u if that makes sense??? no? okay. in short, ure free to bin it if u dont want this but i hope u can feel better by reading this. and even replying or not replying, keeping it priv or wtw its all upto u. i just cant see one of the most bful souls ive ever met being sad and overwhelmed :(

chugg that water down baby, helps wonders<3 listen to some music, dance to some hoe songs (fkn mood imo) or just dance in general. let that adrenaline kick in and... wlel imma stop talking now🤣😅babe ill see u mf sooonnn!! take care<33 million kithies for u and holding yo hand like tae does yoon's :3 💖💖💖 (🐯)

hello my sweetest love! It’s so good to hear from you, I’m glad that you’re doing well 💞 I hope you don’t mind a rather short answer from me this time around; I am incredibly grateful for everything you said and it’s really comforting to know that you care about me enough to take time out of your day to write me these lovely messages, I still don’t know how I deserve that 💔 I’ve gone through a really tough episode recently, and while yes, it had also to do with some stuff that had happened on tumblr, it was mostly triggered by my actual real life fears and problems. I think I’m getting better at taking a step back from here when I feel overwhelmed by content, my own negativity and/ or fears that I have and that’s good! I also think that I won’t be sharing so much of my mental instability anymore on here lmao, and just stay offline when I’m feeling bad. So that’s why I won’t talk more in depth about what you said in this ask, I really do hope that’s okay 💘 I adore you so much for cheering me on and making me smile (and blush!!) so much with your sweet compliments, you really make my heart flutter babe! I’m repeating myself but – thank you, so so much. You always make me feel better about myself and what I do and I’m just so utterly thankful. I love you, take care!! ❤️❤️

[omegawolverine]

I know you posted it days ago but you said something about wanting to rant about either karl or his fanbase and its been itching at my brain. Ive no clue whats happening or what is happening at all cause no one seems to be making clear points?? Or explaining anything?

Obviously you do NOT have to talk about it im sure it might be a sore point to rant because people can get SO needlessly rude to others over it. But if you want to idk explain? Just rant? Im definetly curious what it was over or about.

The "you dont need to talk about this" is amplified by the fact i am DAYS late and you are probably over it by now.

okay hi yes im happy to talk about this but i think i should preface with two things:

1) even tho it may seem like im biased towards him or being very defensive of him im actually a super casual karl viewer and the only reason i am super defensive of him sometimes is bc we act a lot alike irl and that is mainly because of our neurodivegency. when i say a lot i mean we share traits like "annoying" stimming (jumping around, making loud noises, repeating the same phrases until everyone is sick of hearing them), the difficulty reading situations, the very obvious issues with volume control and not just bouncing from subject to subject to subject as we fucking please. basically anything you've seen karl do on stream that is Very Neurodivergent ive done the same in my own way which is why i get defensive when i see people calling him annoying or saying they dont like him, usually for these types of reasons. that being said, when i say im a very casual karl viewer, i fucking mean it. i usually only watch him when he's streaming with other ccs i like or when he's doing chill alt streams bc even with the annoying donos, he's pretty relaxing and comforting when he's just fucking around by himself and he isnt trying to get as hype as he would on a main channel stream. so yeah, it may seem like im biased and sure, i guess i am on some level, but it's not coming from a place of me hyperfixating on him or me even loving him as a cc, it's coming from me being a neurodivergent who likes him just enough to get upset when i see people basically being casually ableist towards him.

2) i dont have all the facts or even a great understanding on what the fuck has been happening recently with his "drama"...mostly bc he talked about it on his priv, which im not on, and people are gatekeeping the tweets, as they always do, and basically making you "dm to see them" (which is already a problem in and of itself bc apparently in these tweets he said he didnt want them being ss and shared, yet they are being shared thru dms over and over and over again like. at that point just stop withholding the information and post the fucking shit, you clearly dont care that he said "dont share"). additionally, most of the threads ive seen on this situation havent actually explained the initial issue, just talked about his apology (a lot of people have said "it's bad" but havent said why and with no screenshots ((i havent asked for someone to dm me them and i still havent seen them posted, which is mildly surprising, but incredibly frustrating at this point)), i only have a few basic details i can actually assess it on) or they talked about the initial issue in very vague details so um. excuse me trying to explain this now, but ill try and make it make sense with how little ive actually pieced together.

(oh, also, here's my first rant about the ableism in this fandom which is way more broad. this is a pretty different rant from that one, but they're both pretty big reasons why i hate this fandoms treatment of karl)

so basically the problems started with mr beast being apart of a charity stream that donated either to autism speaks or to a similar company, im unsure on that part. im also unsure on if the people participating in the stream actually knew of this or not bc, from what i remember, the money was being donated to a separate organization that was like. under the bad company or some shit like that, idk how stuff like that works and also i read about this shit months ago bc this originally happened months ago and just sorta came to a head recently.

anyways, i think karl was supposed to be apart of this stream but pulled out of it right before (that or these were two separate streams and karl was supposed to participate in the first but pulled out while mr beast did both?? idk. regardless karl did not actually participate, just mr beast). from there people started doing the guilt from association bullshit they always do, this was also doubled by the fact that the chris being racist stuff came out sometime around then and basically he got dragged all over twitter for "being ableist" and "supporting racists" and i cant remember if he actually apologized when this originally happened or not. i vaguely remember him apologizing about something back then but i genuinely dont know if it was this or something else.

basically that died down eventually, a good chunk of people unstanned him but him and honktwt didnt end up getting the lovely lil technotwt treatment and they still havent yet, surprisingly. good for them honestly ajsksk

but now we get to the past few weeks and apparently something happened with him "laughing at someone saying the r slur" (it was mizkif, i believe), specifically when it was directed at other people, which is a big yikes, obviously, but when karl was called out for this a lot of people kind of. made this into a situation that it wasnt bc um. basically karl didnt laugh at it, he gave a few nervous giggles, as people often do when in a situation like that (and karl specifically said he does this in the one part of his apology tweet which i did stumble upon, although it wasnt the important part of the apology thread bc why would it be) and people fucking crucified him for it. they quite literally dragged a neurodivergent man for supposedly "laughing at the r slur" when he can literally reclaim it and also he was just nervous laughing.

and this is where the situation just gets really bad because they. basically forced him to admit that he was autistic on his priv to apologize for this. i havent seen the screenshots of him saying this, but i saw people discussing it and i am frankly so fucking pissed about this because sure, it was a bad situation, and i understand people wanting an explanation, but an apology? for a neurodivergent man nervous laughing at a slur he can reclaim? and then forcing the man to admit something he literally said in that tweet he didnt want people to know which is why people were being so gatekeepy about it while also LOUDLY discussing the situation, as if that wouldnt drive MORE PEOPLE to look for screenshots and ways to get ahold of this information? and then people had the audacity to call it a "bad apology" when they had quite literally just violated his privacy by forcing him to admit something that he shouldnt have needed to share in the first place if he didnt want to, which he didnt.

and this is why im so pissed off. karl is already constantly picked at and made fun of and called annoying for his neurodivergent traits, things which he literally cant help, things which are generally harmless, and now he was forced into a situation where he can now be further picked at and made fun of and called annoying bc they forced him to admit something private instead of just understanding and accepting that he had been nervous laughing at someone using a slur he has definetly been called for his neurodivergency.

tldr of my thoughts: yes i think karl needed to address this situation, it definetly looked bad, but twitter stans have this sense of entitlement with their ccs and because of that, they consistently take it way too far and harm the people they claim to care about so dearly. we've seen it happen time and time again with dream, but this is the first time ive seen them basically force someone to out themselves to make their apology "valid" and most of them still seem to not want to accept it anyways, which just makes me feel bad for him bc now that info is out their and people are just disregarding it to continue "holding him accountable".

anyways, i think that's all i can really say on this topic rn tbh, if anyone else knows this situation better please feel free to lmk clarifications and ill add them in since, like i said, i know fuck all thanks to twitter being so goddamn hush hush about the important details while simultaneously being the loudest mfers about how much they hate karl now instead of just fucking unfollowing and moving on.

thanks for the ask and im sorry if this is confusing!! i just think this is one of those weird situations where like. i think karl deserved some criticism for what happened and how he handled it or at least he shouldve been asked to address it but that just. isnt what happened, at all. he was harrassed. karl got harrassed and because of that he handled this situation even more sloppily than he probably wouldve and exposed private info about himself that he didnt feel comfortable doing and it just. fucking sucks tbh.

[ghostofcitrus]

realizations?? cool, cool...

brief warning : i mention transmedicalism and talk about my own body a little

okay so im seeing myself do the exact same shit ive done multiple times ive done when researching gender and stuff. it literally goes like this every time:

i start to think about gender a bit, it floats around the back of my minds for few weeks or whatever. the thoughts comes up more pressing occasionally, but overall it doesnt bug me, its kinda just there

i either think about it more, look at myself in the mirror a certain way, see someone come out, or get reminded of an identity (literally always one of the demigenders. demi-girl, -boy, and -gender have all been past identities/considered identities of mine). now its on the front of my mind.

i do something (when i was younger i layered sports bras, recently i cut my hair, that stuff) and im like fuck okay im really thinking about this now

i go through this back and forth with myself (which was like all my other posts) and eventually land on yes i do actually identify like this. i feel happy and think about the changes i wish i could make to myself (hair, no titties, name, pronoun change)

thennnn i find transmeds again. “you need dysphoria to be trans”. and i like lose my marbles. i start to think of both the discomfort i feel and the lack of discomfort. the best way i can describe it is a similar way i used to experience my sensory issues (before realizing they were sensory issues) : i dont feel like its bothering me, but when i do something that “helps” (i.e. noise cancelling headphones, experiment with pronouns, stuff like that) i feel soo much better!!

but then i start to think that if i had to live as a woman/girl, i would be fine. my life would still be good, id still be happy, all that. so i realize i dont expereince dysphoria, because its obviously not distressing to live as i do presenting fully female, and it doesnt impare my day to day life.

so i stop identifying like that, let it fade out of my mind, and go along with my life, and use the fact that i can do that as proof that im not actually nonbinary. i ignore what i really want and do like other “half” things, like wearing a minimizer bra, cutting my hair mid length, and i used to really hate my body but i worked really reallyyy hard to just accept it and love it. even if it doesnt really feel like me, i just dont really pay attention to it. i like what my body looks like. i think its a nice body,,, not that it actually feels like MINE. but regardless. and it seems that this comes back up every so often. and the process repeats.

anyways. the more i think about the fact that in my head i literally have always had a skewed prospective of my body that does not match what i see, the more confident i feel in identifying as nonbinary. as much as im logically aware that i have Big Boobies, im always surprised to see them/my general body shape. i think a lotlotlot of my self hatred came from that feeling. so like forcing myself to love it has been great...but that disconnect is still there. theres just like no/much less hatred that comes from it anymore. i wear more formfitting clothes and dresses and feel good or nuetral about it, something i really couldnt do before. but JEEZ thinking about having no boobs MM yes Please. being more androgenous but still feminine (idk if that makes sense lmao). and right now? the more i think about how much more comfortable id be like that, the more uncomfortable i am as i am(like, im actualy aware of my chest rn rather than the feeling that it literally doesnt exist til i see it then just :( ). ive never liked a lot of my features but i didnt ever think that maybe the hyper “femaleness” of it was a part of it. and that my desires for more nuetrality (wanting a more nuetral name, getting excited by nuetral pronouns, wanting no b00bs/lots of curves, loving my super short hair, etc) was more rooted in gender than self hatred, and so when i worked through the self hatred part i kinda started to just pretend it wasnt still there, bc i had previously chalked it up to self hatred bc i couldnt be trans/nonbinary without dysphoria right? (according to ppl) and i wasnt actually DISTRESSED by being seen as a girl! so i was just a self-hating girl. but now that the self hatred is gone but a lot of the underlying feelings remain... im re thinking. but still stressed idk. basically what im trying to say is i think i have more of an “issue” with my gender than i thought i did before.

but basically: ugh. if you would like to idkkk.... share thoughts/feelings/personal experience/validation thats all coool.... and very appriciated  

[melforbes]

seaglass blue annotations

hello! i just posted the last chapter and thought i’d put together some ~fun context~ for that fic. it got way way more attention than i ever expected and for something i feel i didn’t put that much effort into i think i did in the end put a lot of effort into it so i might as well talk about it and answer some potential questions.

my favorite book of all time is the sunlit night by rebecca dinerstein (yes, that one) and something i find really compelling about that book is how sparing the prose is, forcing the reader to fill in certain gaps, and i think having to fill in those gaps makes the book a really acquired taste with which either you love it or hate it and there’s not really an in-between

i also really adore how in that book the natural world backdrop comes to life, something i find really challenging to write. recently i even read into thin air, the book about the 1996 mount everest disaster, and even though the writing was superb, i still had to google what the hillary step was because i couldn’t picture it on my own. i don’t know how people write nature because to me it feels damn near impossible, but this sparing approach really worked, so i thought i might try it out. i tend to be longwinded (gestures vaguely at this post) and wanted to have certain parts of this be a lot smaller and more contained without negating impact. whether or not i made it work is anyone’s guess. definitely not my normal style, so to speak

based on the comments i’ve received i think this might be everyone’s favorite part. in my mind age of consent by new order was playing in the background. in pretty much every fic i have a scene like this one and all of them are based on the poem first base gold by rh*annon mcg*vin from her book branches (censored because she has a tumblr and i don’t want her seeing this haha)

i absolutely can’t do the poem justice by describing what it’s about, but the simplest, most basic interpretation of the poem is that there is no better place to kiss than right here, right now, because of the past. i really like that imagery and tend to use it a lot. she as a writer has been a big inspiration for me and if you’ve read my fic true minds i should add that the nonfiction inspiration for that was directly as a result of one of her youtube videos. i particularly love how the last paragraph (stanza? im not a poet) is one big run-on sentence that’s jovial and tongue-in-cheek and colloquial and straightforward. it feels triumphant in a quiet way to me and i love how it’s done. obviously my attempts at something similar are nowhere near as insightful, but still, the most basic image of this is that there is no better place to kiss, and that’s how i felt about the two of them finding pudding in the supermarket

this part is autobiographical; while writing this last year, i went through six months of intravenous drug treatment, a month and a half of which involved long days of doctor visits on every weekday. when you’re on stuff like that for a long time you end up with a central line for better access (potential plot hole in all of this: scully never had one) but for a month and a half i got poked almost every day and strangely enough it got harder over time. the first couple you never feel, but a week or two later you start flinching, and if the needle goes in the same vein each time, it hurts the more it gets prodded. i reached a point toward the end of the in-office visits in which i would bleed a lot every time i got poked, and i can’t watch anything like that happen to me so i was looking away each time, and when i felt that the nurse was done, i would look back over, and sometimes i would be looking down at a pool of blood that i hadn’t expected to see. it’s weird, you don’t actually feel yourself bleeding, i would’ve expected a hot bloody feeling but instead it felt like nothing. and when i say a pool i mean that it would drip down beneath my elbow, stain the sheet they’d put underneath, and i wouldn’t get all of it off until i showered. i didn’t necessarily find it scary, but it was surreal and kind of pulled me out of normalizing the experience i was having. for a very long time needing iv drugs was my greatest fear and i was surrounded by that then and fine, and then, there was blood all over my arm, and like, haha, this is actually not fine. you’d think something else would’ve been scarier, but it wasn’t. and now looking back at this paragraph i wish i’d edited it differently but hey that’s life

i’d never really understood the purpose of religion as a self-driven part of life until i took anatomy in college. i was raised catholic and though culturally i understand having a religion and being raised with one, i’ve never really reached for religion when i wanted answers, and i haven’t personally understood why that’s someone’s first option. and i know there’s been plenty of commentary on the hypocrisy of dana scully as a catholic who believes in science, yada yada yada, i think everyone has read all of that by now. but what struck me while learning anatomy is that there is a kind of neuron we don’t know the function of. there are four kinds of neurons, and one of them is still a mystery to us. and then, there’s all of these different parts of human bodies that exist in a certain perfect way, but why do they exist like that? to support life, yes, but why is it that we can make comparisons? why were irises not the same color? and we name valves of the heart after religious figures. we are so hell-bent on meaning that something literal will never be enough. and all of that made me think that dana scully has god to fill in what science won’t answer, at least not yet. and there’s definitely a bigger conversation about science as denial of indigenous cultures that i am nowhere near qualified to start. after taking those classes, i think i would be more shocked if she wasn’t religious. you can ignore pretty much all of the paragraph above but it was important to me that at some point in this fic she willingly conceded that she didn’t know what would happen and that she didn’t have answers. with illness, there is no logic, there’s no thinking your way out of it, and i think that would plague her for a long time. to me, she only would accept her death when she could say she had no idea what would happen, she has no answers, there’s nothing filling in her gaps anymore, and she’s comfortable with that. and i put all of that in a paragraph about my thoughts on god because it made sense to me. there are times that just feel like you’re in a movie and there’s no one else you can say caused them. it’s not enough to build belief on but it’s enough to bring a certain kind of wonder. also one time my parents insisted on watching stripes because it was so funny and when watching it none of us found it funny at all and my parents grimaced and were like what were we on that made that good back in the day so that’s in here now haha

and now, the biggest question: does she die at the end? when i came up with the idea for this fic, i knew the beginning and ending but not the middle, and i posted this as a smaller project (ie: chapters below 3,000 words) while illness made my bigger projects harder to work on and essentially flew by the seat of my pants the whole time. i wrote the last line a long long time ago and have always seen the ending as written as the concrete ending. when i started writing this, i never intended for there to be a definitive answer to whether or not she dies. i like premature endings (the ending of girls burn brighter comes to mind) and i think that this works better without saying whether or not she lives. and i also have a hard time with giving a definitive answer because this fic very much is about death and having her die would, of course, be traumatic, but showing her living instead i think ruins any takeaways people could have. i’ve never had cancer but as a chronically ill person i think i can speak to how you never actually win with illness; the best you can do is tie, and sometimes, no matter how much effort you put in, you “lose” anyway, you lose spectacularly, and all of your effort was for nothing. i wholeheartedly believe that humans can’t emotionally or logically process natural disasters or illness, hence why much of the talk about illness in this is from mulder’s perspective as he experiences her terminal illness secondhand; that way, he doesn’t need to (but still likely will) find logic or reason or meaning for death from a terminal illness, so his discoveries and his coping mechanisms aren’t as urgently needed. had i written a chapter that describes how she lives, i think that the discussion of death in this would be voided altogether. and i also don’t believe the ending would be much different whether she lives or dies; there’s still the need for death acceptance and talking about dying, whether or not she lives, and none of the story in this fic would have happened had the characters known she would live. the whole point is not knowing.

for a little while i toyed with writing an unofficial sequel of sorts in which i spelled out what i think happens after the ending, but after realizing that that would end up being longer than the original fic and would also have some massive plot holes, i decided against it. i do have my own version and i don’t want to share that version because i never really intended for my version to be some kind of genuine sequel in which every question gets answered and everything is wrapped up and happy ever after and whatnot. it was just where my brain wandered in the same way it wanders when i watch an open-ended movie. all of that to say, if you think she lives, then she lives. if you think she dies, then she dies. it’s your decision. i’d much rather you choose than me. i never marked this as “major character” death on ao3 because, well, she doesn’t die in this fic. whether or not she dies after the fic ends, that’s for you to decide. 

thank you for taking the time to read my writing. i never expected this to blow up (it blew up for me at least, for a while it was my most popular fic ever, with i think thousands more hits than anything else i’d written) and the response has been mind-boggling and wonderful. i don’t respond to comments often because it makes me feel like a pompous jerk (”thank you for enjoying this! i, too, enjoy this thing i have written! oh ho ho!” is how it sounds to me in my head, whereas when other writers respond to comments to me it just looks like thanks man have a good day, feel free to call me a weenie) but i’ve appreciated all of them very much. THANK YOU! i hope your new year is a Whole Lot Less Shit than 2020. i don’t plan on writing more msr because i don’t really have any ideas for them. thank you for making my last time special <3

[argumentl]

The Freedom of Expression Ep 1 - Haruna Fuuka files lawsuit against internet slanderers

*with Kaoru (K), Joe (J), Tasai (T) , who is a journalist writing for the newspaper Tokyo Sports, and Kami/god.*

Kaoru: Hi, this is Dir en grey's Kaoru. Have you heard of 'The Freedom of Expression' somewhere before?

Joe, Tasai : *noding*

K: I've a feeling we've done this before...

J: Thats right, yes...Its not a feeling, we actually did.

K: We are reviving the show we did on the radio station InterFM from 2015-16, on youtube this time.

J: Awesome

*applause*

J: I was really happy when I was first told about the revival.

K: I was also surprised *laughs*

J: Its not that you were made to revive the show though, right Kaoru?

K: The suggestion just came at me.

J: Oh really, like 'How about it?'

K: Like, 'Wanna tryy?' 1*

J: Ah, in a Kansai accent?

K:Yes yes

J: Like, 'Lets tryyy'..kind of thing...it started like that *laughs*

K: Yep

J: We did quite a lot (on InterFM). We even did a special edition

K, T : Yes, we did

J: We even made stickers

K: Brazil!

J:Yes

T: Ah, the live broadcast..at the Olympics

J: It was Dobashi san...Bishbash Dobashi san.

T: It would be good if we could do another live broadcast at this year's Tokyo Olympics.

J: On this You tube channel?

T: Yes *laughs*

J: A live broadcast might be a bit difficult legally, as for the Olymipcs *T laughs*

K: Um, thats *shhh*

J: Oh, its a secret!' *K laughing*  Maybe if were are asked by Tokyo Sports..?

K: Yes yes...So, as to the freedom of expression... 

Kami/god: Wait, wait, wait..I've come down too.

J: Oh, Kami?

K: He's saying it from himself *laughs*..I thought he would come if we beckoned him though.

J: Thats what usually happened. He was the kind of god that would come down after we called him, but now a god that comes down on his own accord.

K: Wasn't he like that before too? Should we keep him in reseve a bit more?

J: He'll want to appear, we can't help it?

Kami: You were forgetting about me!

K: We are not forgetting you!

Kami: You musn't forget your god!

*laughing*

T: We are not forgetting you!

Kami: Its not good!

J: You are always in our hearts.

T: Yes, he is.

Kami: Yes, thats it..you have to think like that.

J: But, you are not in the studio today, kami?

Kami: Oh..um, im just getting off a night shift..

J: A night shift?!

K: Ah, but it was like that before..

Kami: Right.

J: You are doing night shift work again? *Tasai laughs*

Kami: yes, thats right.

K: That was a while ago wasn't it, how many years ago?

J: Oh, is this the night shift season?

Kami: No, its..

T: You worked for ￥1000 per hour right?

Kami: Yes, yes...my hourly rate has risen a bit though. They were telling me 'Take a rest, take a rest', so my income dropped.

J: Ahh, its what they called a 'reformed working style', right?

Kami: Right

J: Its tough for you too, Kami.

Kami: *laughs* Yes it is.

K: He's the same as ever...  so lets get started.

J, T: Please

K: Ah, by the way, Tasai san, as well as Bishbashi Dohashi san, wasn't there another person before (at InterFM)?

T: Yes..a beastly guy *K laughs* An old aquaintance of the listeners', a guy called Monster Hiranabe.

J: Its a strange story, but once when a certain celebrity died, Hiranabe-san called me up, and asked me if I had known the deceased guy...as soon as I said that I hadn't known him very well, he hung up on me straight away!

T: Thats awful!

J: He is awful

T: This very guy, Hiranabe, even got a promotion from the manager.

J: Eh? Promoted to what?!

T: To Director

J:Eh?! Really?

K: Is that okay??

J: No, it'll be terrible!

K: Right, lets move onto the main news...I'd like to get deeper into the concept of 'The Freedom of Expression'.

J: Right, so Haruna Fuuka has filed a lawsuit againts those who engage in 'internet slander'.

A tweet stated 'Both her parents created a failure'.

On Jan 14th, 18 year old Haruna and her mother filed a lawsuit at Yokohama district court demanding ￥2,654,000 in damages from a person engaged in spreading falsehoods which have damaged her dignity.

On the acknowledgement that these tweets went beyond what was deemed acceptable by society at large, on Nov 1st the internet provider was ordered to make public the persons name and address etc.

Haruna has been tweeting since the age of 9, giving her opinion at random about society's problems, and creating a stir. She now has over 200,000 followers and is fighting 10 years of slander. Kaoru, what do you think about this?

K: Well..I mean, naturally, you'd feel like that..

J: Hmm, but I don't know the details but..the name of the defendant has been withheld...well, its a common problem that as a person speaking in the public eye, you are going to get criticism along with praise...like a 'fame tax'.  That said, how far do you go before honour is damaged? On SNS, you are of course free to express yourself, you can write what you want, but the issue is what constitutes damage to honour. This might be a very difficult area in which to draw a legal line, but on the other hand, if you don't draw a legal line, things may escalate out of control...Kaoru, what do you think?

K: Well for example, if banter between friends is written down...controlling that...Its best not to look at whats written in the first place.

J: Ah, the person in question right? By the way Kaoru, its a strange question, but do you search for yourself online?

K: No, not really. I hear things, the office staff will tell me.

J: Oh, if anything is being said?

T: In the world of fame its quite true, that even if 98 or 99 opinions out of 100 are good, the one negative thing will stand out.

K: Well, yes, its the bad things that..

J: On the other hand, from the writers'  perspective at Tokyo Sports, how far are you willing to slander someone? You could write an article in a good or bad way..

T: Of course balance is important, but of course, if the courts want to complain to us, they can call us, and start an exchange, but in the case of slanders on the internet, its like, who do you complain to? So, if you ask celebrities, they will say Tokyo Sports slander is better than anonymous online slander because at least they can complain to our face.

J: Mm, absolutely. Just how far do we protect these tweets, these freedoms of expression? Its difficult.

K: Are these really 'expressions'?

J: Well, esentially, yes. When you say 'tweets' you think of nonsense, but really its media expressing things, or artists expressing things..

K: Yes, yes, you can get a sense of individual expression.

J: And this especially has the power to influence...

K: Yes, and people get swept up in it.

J: I think this is universal, but at the moment I think Japan is bit like a geyser, people will rush towards any incident and some will start complaining, I mean, I think its important to say what you feel, but its complaining without trying to solve anything, only satisfying yourself.

K: Thats it

J: Its sounds strange to say, but it ends like masturbation. If it turns into something towards a soloution its ok, but just creating thoughtless slander to satisfy yourself is questionable.

K: So its often said, if you continue the conversation only looking at the bad things, it can't be helped. There are also good people out there..you know, put more importance on those people. How to put it...its like we said before, if you focus too much on that one out of a hundred, its kind of rude to the other 99.

J: I see. Still this person has over 200,000 followers and its said she has been fighting slander for ten years.

T: She's always been a bit of a talking point online. I'll just search for her.

J: I also have Instagram, I do stuff to do with societal problems on The Dave Fromm show's youtube channel, and whenever I upload about it (on IG), my followers decrease!  *everyone laughs* Outrageously decrease! Im serious, despite getting so far, that channel updates every week, and with every update my followers decrease. Maybe people hate reading about societal problems..*to Tasai* What did you find?

T: So for example there was that thing recently about regulating gamers to 60mins per session, she had quite a few things to say about that, playing vs learning etc.

J: I see..Young people do complain, well you can't really tell here, but on the other hand, young people these days, i know they would hate us old guys talking about this, but young people apparently have three main taboos. The first is talking about sex, they dont follow this, the second is politics, they don't follow this either, and the other one is, they don't like being made to talk about the kind of things that they really need to be talking about...there seems to be this kind of trend. So i think in this way...theres a chance Haruna is getting right to the point of this. But certainly, applying the law in a way that recognises infringement/damage to honour by way of personal utterances has the potential to lead to restrictions on the freedom of expression. Its a difficult play off, isnt it?

T: Yes, it really is

J: Obviously, when it comes to race, or racial discrimination, there has come to be rules concerning hate speech and so on, but how far can you regulate one-to-one slandering, or..how far can you protect the person being attacked? Should the country or the judiciary decide this? Its difficult.

K: Kami, what do you think? Are you there?

Kami: Well, I hear slanders towards me all the time *everyone laughs* Like, god tells lies, god is useless, or even that there is no such thing as god!

J: Ahh, i see. They deny you!

Kami: Yes, thats it. If I care about those things, I lose!

J: Do you search for yourself online?

Kami: I do. *everyone laughs* ..and whenever I do its only ever those things that come up.

J: Ah of course...Kami, you have an exceptionally good handle on social media  dont you?

T: He's great

Kami: Ive got a good handle on it.

J: Do you use an iphone?

Kami: I have two.

J: God has two iphones! Thats brilliant.

Kami: Yep, I have two...im not allowed to use them while im working.

T: Does he have a contract? With his address and such?

J: I can't tell whether he's great, or whether he's not so great...

Kami: If i care, I lose...I prefer them to hate me, rather than to be indifferent to me.

K: Kami, what do you think about playing computer games for one hour?

Kami: If the kid is good at it, they should keep doing it.

T: I see, i see.

J: Ohh not sure about that. That seems a bit out.

Kami: No, i really think so. Skilled kids can carry on playing.

K: Should unskilled ones give up?

Kami: Yes, they shouldn't do it...When they play all day, and they just can't clear the level..that kind of kid.

K: Its a waste of time right?

Kami: Exactly, its a waste.

J: They should do something else?

Kami: Yes

K: You should quit if you have no talent for it?

Kami: Yes, yes, its talent.

J: Well, just getting off a nightshift must be tiring.

K: For us too, you know, we should try not to say 'stop it' too quickly...we have to keep it interesting.

Kami: It was interesting though, I was listening.

T: Oh thank you.

Kami: But don't tell lies about me.

T: If you thought it was interesting, you should write about it on your social media.

Kami: Yeh, everyone pretends on social media anyway, they won't know its me.

K: Well, that was the first episode of 'The Freedom of Expression' but, should I ask how it was..? *laughs*

J: But, being together again after a while was refreshing..

K,T: Yes, thats right

T: Im happy.

J: So am I.

K: Well, so we started in this vein....Tune in next time to see how it goes.  So this time, only this camera, theres nothing here *gestures behind*, but if lots of people watch, we could go different places, increase our cameras. I still don't know about your fee, Joe.

J: Eh?! What do you mean? It says here my fee will stay the same!

K: I might have to lower it *laughs*

J: *coughs* You're only lowering mine?...But everyone please subscribe.

K: Yes please. Please look forward to next time. Thank you very much.

1* They are saying 'How about this?' in a Kansai accent, how to translate that??

[cienie-isengardu]

The development of Law’s relationship with Zoro - Part 4: Dressrosa, The Breaking Point (Aftermath)

<<Part I: Before Meeting>> <<Part II: Sabaody Archipelago, The First Meeting>> <<Part III: Punk Hazard, The Alliance (A)>> <<Part III: Punk Hazard, The Alliance (B)>>  <<Part IV: Dressrosa, The Breaking Point (The Plan Failed)__ (Saving Law)__(Protecting Law)__ (Birdcage, Pica and Doflamingo)__ (Aftermath)>>

Even though admiral Issho alongside with his men officially apologized to King Riku and the citizens, the king made sure the “outlaws” were hidden from marines. Straw Hats, Law, Bellamy and Kyros ended sheltered in Kyros’s home where he once lived with Scarlet and little Rebecca. First time in a long time, the allied pirates were together again. In the night, Sabo visited the house, but beside Zoro, Franky and Robin, everyone was sleeping. The four had a talk about Sabo’s past and the best time to leave Dressrosa before marines will attack them.

Law’s sleep position was much more relaxed and open than the one from the beginning of Dressrosa arc (chapter 794).  Maybe it was just the result of total exhaustion and injuries or maybe Law, after so long of stressing and worrying, finally could relax knowing that A) Doflamingo was in marine custody thus no longer a threat and B) he was safe around Straw Hats.

The available room was small but Law could choose any spot to sleep. Instead, he was shown lying close to drinking Zoro (by frame layout alone, again in between Roronoa and sleeping on bed Luffy, this time without any danger around). Zoro most likely planned to stay awake through the whole night for security measures (he has this habit of sleeping just 3 hours per night after all) and taught by experience, Law didn’t have any reason to doubt that if attacked, the swordsman would protect him, the same as he did during battle. 

Law didn’t even bother to pretend he was cautious or wary, he simply slept, trusting allies to take care of their safety.

With Zoro, Franky and Robin being the only one awake, there is a high probability they talked about the latest events. How their fights went, what they learned, what to focus on, what to watch out for in the future with angered Kaido as the next goal on alliance’s list. It’s hard to tell for sure if Robin told others about Law’s choice to stay behind and whether in victory or death, share Luffy’s fate. On one hand, it was a choice made under strong emotions, trauma and even the feel of responsibility for Straw Hat’s wellbeing. A choice made because of very personal matters. On second hand, exactly because it happened under such pressure it was the most sincere side of Law Robin had a chance to see for herself. She and Zoro are the least trusting members of the crew and that night was the best moment to discuss in detail what happened and in the process dispel any remaining doubts about Law as their ally. Both saw his determination and fighting spirit, knew he saved their crew members and kept Luffy out of harm's way despite his own injuries and finally, both had some understanding of Law’s hidden goal in Doffy’s destruction. They may not know the whole truth, just the nature of it, but that was enough because Trafalgar did not betray them. And well, he had the suicide feel about himself what could raise some concerns about him too. 

I personally think such talk could happen that night, when memories of battle were still fresh in their mind and everyone out cold beside the three of them. The exchange of information could be another reason for the change in Zoro’s behaviour.

For the three days, the Straw Hat-Heart alliance was left in peace by marines. Once again Law was exposed to Luffy’s antics but this time Zoro acted in a more open way, even showing his more usual irritation at other people’s odd behaviour, including his own captain:

Interestingly, there is a visible shift in the arrangement of characters positions - during battle it was usually Zoro-Luffy-Law and the dynamic changed mainly in face of danger. Now with upcoming frames somehow Law was put more often in the middle between the other Supernovas. Even though Trafalgar still kept some tangible distance from others, judging by their (not so strictly stoic anymore) behaviour, it seems like he and Zoro were now more comfortable around each other.

Then the navy finally made its move against pirates. Unlike Usopp, Zoro and Law didn’t show any distress. Bartolomeo and other fighters prepared themselves for such an occasion by securing for Luffy’s group a safe escape route. Instead of running away with his friends, Luffy decided to visit Rebecca - now a princess - and confront her about her family matters. 

Zoro reminded Luffy they don’t have time, so he better get it done quick while the rest will wait in eastern port...

and then again, run in the wrong direction.

At this point, Law may have a good suspicion about Zoro’s no sense of orientation (chapter 797). And who knows, maybe he ran alongside Zoro (on picture below, behind Kinemon and Robin), to make sure the infamous Pirate Hunter did not wander unexpectedly somewhere else… that, or both planned to linger behind and secure the group retreat.

The fellow fighters came to their aid, keeping marines far away from Straw Hats. At the same time, Law disappeared without a word, to find and confront recently arrived on the island Sengoku (unless he did mention his intention to Zoro, while they ran side by side??). Frankly, the manga did not provide the reaction of Zoro nor any other member of Straw Hat crew to Law’s disappearance, so it’s impossible to say if they were worried about him or simply trusted in his strength to return on his own on time.

Meeting with Sengoku was one of the most important breaking points for Law. As it turned out, the former fleet admiral treated Donquixote Rosinante - Law’s savior - as a son. And for thirteen years did not understand why his beloved son didn’t follow the order to stay away from Minion Island. 

“One day… a soldier I knew died. He was someone I cared about, someone who meant something to me. I took him in as a boy… and treated him like a son… He was as honest and upright a person as I ever knew… and a valuable, trustworthy subordinate. But there was one time, just once in his life, that he lied to me. I had been betrayed… but there must have been a reason for it. Four things disappeared in the chaos of that fateful day. The Barrels Pirates, the life of my subordinate, the Ope-Ope fruit… and a boy with White Lead disease who was with the Donquixote Family at the time.”

Law admitted he was the boy and confirmed that Rosinante left his post and died because of him. Admitted also he didn’t know if the way he lived was what Cora wanted.

First time in 13 years, Law was assured that there wasn’t any hidden goal in Cora’s decision to save him. The man saw a dying, hurt child with the spark of his brother’s madness and decided Law was worth loving and dying for. It was unconditional love, without any “if” or “but”. The “D.” name and the usefulness of Ope Ope no Mi did not matter. Even stopping Doflamingo meant then little. The only thing Rosinante wanted was to save Law and make him finally free. Sengoku literally told Law to not “attach a reason to the love you’ve received”. 

Apparently, english “I love you” does not carry the whole meaning of the original phrase “Aishiteruze (愛してるぜ)”. Rosinante’s declaration was along the “I can’t live without you” level of loving someone (x). Now, after so many years of hiding from Donquixote Pirates, planning and scheming and living just to kill Cora’s murderer, Law finally understood the depths of Rosinante’s love. The breaking point is that: Law at last knows (accepts) he was unconditionally loved and now, is free from Doflamingo for good. He can allow himself to finally live without doubts and regrets the way he wants, without a sense of failing some unknown to him expectations. And I think, to some degree, it is the reason why Law’s secretive / introverted behavior changed into a more open, relaxed act around Zoro and Straw Hats. Because he finally could relax, be comfortable with himself. 

Due to danger from admiral Issho, Law couldn’t spend more time with Sengoku and had to run to the rendezvous point. Surprising, no Straw Hats waited for him (in the sense, weren’t shown in the frame). Even more surprising is the lack of Zoro between former colosseum fighters in the frontline of the fight. Anyway, Luffy showed up soon after Law but instead of dodging the blind admiral, attacked him. Because to be Pirate King he must face everyone: Warlords, Admirals and Emperors and beat them down.

Zoro in general agreed with Luffy’s reasoning (chapter 799) but did not exactly understand the way Luffy fought against Issho, telling his blind opponent what kind of attack he was going to use. The admiral himself was very surprised by that too, but ultimately accepted and even respected Luffy’s weirdness. In the end, Issho managed to send Luffy flying - what happened to be a favorable circumstance for allied fighters. They catched Luffy and despite Straw Hat’s protest, dragged him to safety. Zoro was happy about that too, but for a different reason - he wanted to take Luffy’s place to fight with a powerful enemy. Bartolomeo thankfully managed to stop the battle-lusting warrior.

Law’s reaction to that event wasn’t shown but once again he had a chance to see Zoro’s insanity when it came to fighting a strong enemy. Zoro and Luffy in that regard were very similar to each other. 

Straw Hats-Heart alliance finally got on ship, the Yanta Maria and with the help of people of Dressrosa (who under the pretext of chasing the pirates away, were actually protecting them from the admiral's deadly attack), the alliance sailed away safely. 

Zoro and Law's reaction to Yanta Maria was visibly distinctive from pleasant shock of others (open jaws). Zoro smiled, Law, judging by the frown, looked unimpressive. Both their reactions were more quiet and toned down.

On the ship, Bartolomeo and fellow fighters asked Luffy to drink with them “cups of Father and Sons”, to officially accept them as his underlings.

Luffy of course refused, because he A) didn’t like alcohol and B) didn’t want to be captain of such a big fleet. Zoro warned his allies they wasted time trying to change Straw Hat’s mind (and to just give the sake to him). Yet the fighters were ready to force Luffy into accepting the drink. Further Luffy’s explanation only confused everyone (beside Straw Hats) even more. Including Law.

And then Law’s attention immediately turned to Zoro, who, taking advantage of the opportunity, started drinking sake from Luffy’s cup to Usopp’s displeasure.

Finally, Luffy managed to explain his reasoning:

“If I ever think we’re in trouble… I’ll shout for your help. Then you can come save us! I don’t have to be a boss or a great pirate, right?!  If you’re in trouble, call for us!! We’ll come and help you!!! I won’t forget about how we fought Mingo together!!

And the Seven Leaders admired and accepted Straw Hat’s decision. But since Luffy was all about freedom, they simply followed his example. Whether Luffy liked it or not, they decided on their own to make him their boss.

Law thus witnessed the founding of the Great Fleet of Straw Hats. And yet, somehow it looked like he was more interested in Zoro’s drinking sake behind Luffy’s back.

When party started, everyone celebrated their great victory (chapter 800):

Luffy, like always, was in the centre of everything. Law, though smiling, kept his distance from Zoro and other partying people. But soon after that Law’s personal space was invaded by Zoro.

The anime expanded this little moment, first showing Zoro approaching Law sitting alone, asking to join the rest. And then, ignoring any protests, just threw his arm around the other man’s neck. Law’s face spoke how much he minded such treatment and had no dignity about that:

During parties, Zoro always spent his time sharing alcohol with people who fought side by side with him (Paulie, Water 7/Enies Lobby) or actually were his opponents (Braham, Skypiea). Zoro didn’t have a habit of forcing people to drink with him or asking (introverted) person who clearly wanted to be alone to join the bigger group. He himself rarely joined larger groups and usually just sat somewhere far from the noise with a few people around. So, Zoro most likely understood Law's isolation since he used to do so himself. Here though he was the one invading Law’s personal space and not giving a damn if the man was happy about it or not. On second thought, if Law didn’t want to join the others, it made sense for Zoro to join him. In a sense, it could be Zoro’s way to break the ice between them. What is even more interesting, considering the palpate distance he kept from Law at the beginning of the story. The second important detail - Law could easily get out of that situation by using Ope Ope no Mi powers. A simple switch of the places and he would be free for good. Yet Law remained, despite how awkward and/or outside of his comfort zone it was.

We may only wonder what made Zoro act in such an uncommon way. Was that respect for Law forged in the heat of battle? Did it bother him that Law after everything was done, still isolated himself? Did it look like Law felt discomfort to be around people he barely knew or interacted with and who all pledged loyalty only to Straw Hats, thus Zoro decided to keep him company? 

Zoro initiating physical contact in itself is an uncommon occurrence. Because as much as Straw Hats pirates  can - and will - invade Zoro’s personal space, Roronoa is not exactly the  type of person open to such contact. Once again, the shift between the beginning (visible distancing) and ending (invading Law’s personal space) of the Dressrosa arc is tangible. Somehow between one and the other, breaking point in Law and Zoro’s relationship happened and changed for good their dynamic. What was seen day(?) after the party (chapter 801):

Law and Zoro sat close to each other, the previous distance gone. Zoro was reading newspapers, indifferent to his surroundings - instead of facing and observing the Heart captain, like he used to do at the beginning. Both men looked like they were comfortable around each other, even despite - or maybe, because of - the shared (forced?) drink. The change in Zoro’s behaviour is diametrical.

Like was said at the beginning, Dressrosa Arc is one big breaking point. It changed the status quo of pirate alliance and Luffy’s position, from rookie pirate to leader of a powerful fleet. It will lead to the complete dissolution of the Shichibukai system and for good push the main hero into collision with Emperors. For Law alone, Dressrosa was like opening old, still not healed wounds but also so needed a moment of catharsis. He was ready to die there, but was saved time after time by allies. In a sense, it was the final test of how strong the alliance was before facing angry Kaido.

Law changed a lot through the course of action. Or maybe not really changed, but like allowed himself to show hidden emotions and trauma. The cold-blooded, scheming pirate who planned to use Straw Hats crew (and spare his own) turned out to be a man willing to sacrifice himself to finish what his savior started but couldn’t do himself. Who came to believe in Straw Hats, as the ones who made miracles happen. Not only Luffy, but the crew as a whole. 

The same as Zoro finally saw Law in hopeless, awkward, sometimes outright humiliating situations (anime extension), Law’s impression of Roronoa cracked too. No sense of direction, insanity to laugh at the dangerous enemy and enjoying the thrill of fight, the fondness of alcohol -- all of this created anew image. This time more flawed but at the same time, more real, human. Despite the flaws and awkwardness of previous situations, both proved to be strong-willed, cool-headed warriors one may rely on in difficult times. Zoro stretched out his hand to him, broke the ice, abandoned the distrust that distanced them for a long time. It seems like Law was finally fully accepted by Roronoa and all unsaid things between them settled down for good. 

At the same time, the arc showed their similarities. Both were the quiet ones, the type of people who kept distance from others. The ones with pragmatic thinking in contrast to Luffy’s chaotic madness. Zoro for sure was a helpful presence during running from enemies and meeting a weird fighter after another, especially since he did try to keep his captain in check. That it didn’t work for a long time is a different matter.

Anyway, looking at the beginning and end of Dressrosa arc, there is a visible change in how Zoro and Law acted around each other. How the neutrality changed into something more comfortable.

Here comes things worth examining a bit more. 

↪ The Seven Leaders pledged loyalty only to Straw Hat Pirates. As long as alliance between Luffy and Law will work, this is not a big issue and to take down all Emperors, every additional help was good. But if ever those two pirate crews will fall apart, Luffy literally just gained a powerful fleet, thus has advantage over rival captain.

↪ Straw Hats & Heart captain worked together to take down Doflamingo. Luffy of course was the one that finished the enemy, but overall, Luffy’s victory was a result of teamwork between pirates, colosseum fighters, marines and common people. As much as Trafalgar Law was well known as the Shichibukai, Luffy and Zoro were in fact the ones that made the biggest impression on people (colosseum fight, defeating Doffy & destroying Pica) and actually interacted during battle with other fighters. Frankly, both showed their charismatic nature that made people believe in and follow them. Luffy became the hope of the whole country. Zoro was the spark that united people to stop the birdcage and brought Luffy the needed time to recover. Law is powerful and has a reputation and knows how to deal with different people to get what he wants, but he is not really good at interhuman relationships in general. Luffy gains friends on the left and right. Zoro, despite being asocial, rude and introverted person, has the impressive air about himself that often makes him look like the coolest person who is not afraid to challenge everything and everyone; for whom impossible does not exist (destruction of Pica, stopping birdcage). Law… kinda lacks in that department. 

↪ Because of the made impression on other fighters, there is a big chance Law may have heard some retelling of the events during the party. Luffy and Zoro aren’t men who brag about their exploits, but Bartolomeo and his companions had a lot to share about battle. With so much alcohol and so many strong individuals that were very impressed by Straw Hats deeds, it seems logical that tales of battle would sooner than later be told. Especially by devoted fans like Bartolomeo. Zoro’s daring plan to defeat Pica and stop Birdcage could be recalled by those fighters who saw it themselves, filling Law with missing fragments of the battle.

↪ Frankly, shonen mangas have this one upside down that the final boss must be defeated by the main hero. Which means that characters who actually could do something useful (damaging) to the enemy are pushed to the sideline. Like Robin, who can snap a person's neck from far away thanks to Hana Hana no Mi. Or Zoro, who could join the other Supernovas in their fight against Doffy (either before Law’s threatening injury or after, instead of stopping the birdcage). Or dwarf princess could heal Luffy for a few minutes to finish Mingo once and for good. It’s not exactly a complaint, because it's the standard formula of One Piece story, but because of such, Law and Zoro were pushed into the background, for Luffy to shine. For most of the arc, Luffy was the main figure in the dynamic of Supernova Trio. They did not interact much in words, but the layout of frames - the character position and background activities - created the feeling of the slowly forming bond between Zoro and Law. Now, after Doffy’s defeat, there is a shift next to whom Trafalgar sticks (Zoro) and Luffy is unnecessary for them to interact on their own.

↪ Law didn’t care how high was the newest reward for his head. In contrast, Zoro was pleased to learn his own increased a lot. Even asked for alcohol to celebrate. What could turn into another moment of  Zoro dragging Law into drinking.

↪ The last detail (though I’m afraid it may vary from one translation to another) is the way Law addressed his allies. Luffy usually was the Straw Hat-ya. The girls were titled as Nami-ya and Nico-ya. Usopp as Nose-ya, Sanji as Black Leg-ya, Chopper as Tony-ya. Unless I missed it, I don’t think Law addressed Zoro directly to use either his name or made up nickname. They really didn’t talk much throughout the course of the story. There is a chance it happened after freeing Dressrosa - either during the three days when everyone waited for Luffy to wake up or during the party, once alcohol was shared. Zoro, depending on translation, called him either Law or Traffy (or similar form of the nickname).

With the chapter 802, the Dressrosa arc can be considered closed. Now, the Straw Hats-Heart pirate alliance sail to meet their missing crewmembers and to prepare for the fight with angry Kaido. How truly comfortable Law and Zoro became around each other will show the next place: Zou.