#but y'all really need to learn what “toxic” means
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oh, we've moved on from victim blaming adora, now we're doing it to scorpia?
(jk i already knew people said shit like this)
here's the thing, op. catra did lower her walls to scorpia at some point. she had started to consider and treat scorpia as a friend. scorpia did succeed in befriending her.
then after the whole portal thing, not only does she start distancing herself from scorpia, she actively started being toxic to her. she verbally abused scorpia, made her feel worthless and unhappy.
if you think scorpia is “toxic” for leaving a friend who constantly screamed at her and called her names, you need to re-evaluate your morals.
#i agree that scorpia had trouble respecting catra's boundaries#but y'all really need to learn what “toxic” means#i swear spop fans will call ANYONE in the series toxic but catra#spop critical#spop salt#spop#spop criticism#spop discourse#she ra#anti spop#anti catra#anticatra
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NIKTO HEADCANONS (but realistic)
TW: sexual themes, acute dissociative disorder mentioned, this man has definitely been through a lot.
A/N: I don't think I need to say this, but these headcanons are strictly from my perspective. Like many other people here, I enjoy writing for this character, and I have a lot of projects for the future. Anyway, y'all enjoy!
→ He loves cup noodles. He gives the vibes of eating them because they are quick to make and saves him a lot of time. But he’s skilled in the kitchen. Dmitry once founded him cooking in the kitchen’s base in the middle of the night. A glance from him was enough for Dmitry to turn around and walk away with another secret to hide.
→ He’s friendly only in private and only with his team, and obviously Sputnik. He feels comfortable around them, and he laughs only with them. He doesn’t hang out though. He doesn’t like public spaces at all.
→ Diagnosed with Acute dissociative disorder which may include symptoms of other dissociative disorders including dissociative identity disorder (source). This means that he experienced episodes where he dissociated, but since it’s acute, he had short but severe episodes (no, he’s not out of his mind). In my opinion, he doesn’t take any meds, or he would be discharged from the service. But he probably has periodic sessions with a therapist.
→ Possessing a hyena pet helped him find some balance in his life. For him, it’s like having a common dog, it doesn’t make any difference for him. He always finds it amusing when he uses him to scare Rodion, making him scream like a teenager. That’s how he discovered that Rodion doesn’t like anything that resembles a dog, even if Sputnik is a hyena. And he obviously uses this knowledge to his advantage.
→ He is neither hyposexual nor hypersexual (no, he’s not a pervert either). He actually has a normal relationship with sex and all the things that comes with. He doesn’t like sex without feelings. But if it needs it, he definitely jerks off at night.
→ He prioritize trust above everything, if he’s interested in someone. It will probably take him months to trust someone. Definitely a lot of trust issues, he’s really careful when he meet someone new.
→ Definitely not a religious person. He went through so much in his life that he’s more of a ‘realist’ person. He doesn’t think that there is a god, at all.
→ With the right person, he can be very protective: he has the ‘scary dog privilege’, and no one would definitely mess around with a masked big guy all dressed in black (most of the times).
→ He’s a reserved person and he appreciate the silence, especially if someone respect his own silence. Conversations with him can lead to a whole bunch of different topics at a deep level, and he loves when someone actually understand what he’s saying. He has a lot of knowledge and he used to read a lot of books, especially when he was a teen, and even more growing up and when he was recovering from his trauma. He still reads, and when he isn’t going to be deployed in a short time, he reads a lot during the night.
→ His trauma led him to a lot of insomnia, and a lot of nightmares when he actually manage to fall asleep. So, he usually goes for a walk, or he goes training, trying to take his mind off things.
→ Panic attacks are an occurrence, but he learned to acknowledge the symptoms even before it happens. He usually walks back to his room, finding the silence the thing that calms him the most. When he can’t go back to his room, the rest of the team usually has his back, and always managing to work something out. Every time they find a different solution, and that’s what helps him.
→ No one knows his past (and maybe it's better this way). Only Kamarov knows that he had to endure some bad shit back when he was a teenager. I can imagine living his years with her babushka before enlisting in the military. He doesn’t care about his parents since he lived in a toxic environment. Definitely doesn’t talk about it at all.
#nikto#call of duty#call of duty nikto#nikto x reader#nikto mwii#mwii nikto#nikto cod#cod nikto#cod mw#cod mw19#cod headcanons
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sweetened breath, tongue so mean || a Bad Omens fanfic
Pairing: Noah x nonbinary OC
Summary: They're screaming at each other. They're throwing hands. They're half a second away from a violent hatefuck. And at the end of the day, they'll still call each other friends.
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: ANGST, toxic relationship, language, heavy consumption of alcohol, degradation kink if you squint, brief discussion of body image, OC gets deadnamed, depiction of a panic attack, choking, cunnilingus, penetration, hair pulling, slightly dubious consent, spitting.
A/N: Wow do I love angst. But be warned going into this: THESE BITCHES IS TOXIC. Noah is not a very nice person in this, and neither is OC. This fic does not depict a healthy relationship. This is a work of fiction depicting a fictionalized version of Noah and does not represent him in real life.
A MASSIVE THANK YOU TO @signs-of-ill-portent AND @the-way-of-words FOR BETA-ING THIS FIC AND SCREAMING ABOUT IT WITH ME, for getting on my characters' levels with me and for egging me on to delve as deep and dark as I needed for this fic, for not allowing me to mince words and for listening to me catastrophize about the story beats as I figured out how to convey all the nuance this fic needed. Y'all really did the most when you didn't have to, and I AM EXTREMELY GRATEFUL TO YOU FOR THAT! My heart eyes are laser focused on you.
Brainrot Club: @meekahy @foliosriot @badhedonist
Theme song is Hatef--k by The Bravery. I actually made a whole playlist! Click here to listen.
Masterlist here.
Title taken from Angel of Small Death and the Codeine Scene by Hozier; banner made by me; dividers by @saradika
Lee’s just about done with this show (though it hasn’t even begun) when their shoulders hit the poorly finished wall of the back hallway of the venue.
His lips are searing, supple and wet and clingy as they suck to their own. They clench their teeth shut at the insistent push of his tongue past their lips, demanding entry into their mouth. Maybe this whole moment - the hands on their shoulders, the thigh between their knees, pinned between drywall and a solid mass of body heat and want - would be hot, desirable even, had it all not belonged to the one shithead they’d been hoping to avoid tonight.
Of course, Lee would have more luck surviving a plane crash into the ocean than avoiding a shithead when said shithead is Noah Sebastian Davis.
This whole situation is vomit-inducing. Embarrassing, honestly. They push on his chest, hard, like their life depends on it.
“God, knew you’d want it,” Noah pants when Lee finally manages to separate his suction cup of a mouth from theirs, his shit-eating grin planted firmly like he’d done something - whether he meant to be sexy or purposely disgusting, they’re not sure - and it doesn’t help he hasn’t learned to be less cryptic since they’d seen him last.
“What, no ‘hello’, no ‘how are you’?” Lee shoots back. They’d backpedaled out that green room as soon as the members of their entourage were occupied by conversation, though they really should’ve expected this. Noah following them down dimly lit hallways with dishonorable purpose is par for the course.
“Didn’t think I’d need one. Once a slut, always a slut.” His chuckle is like shattering ice, each shard aimed at Lee. “Isn’t that right, Leanne?”
Noah hasn’t changed in the ten years since they’d met, and Lee isn’t about to let the persistent press of his thick, hard cock against their stomach through layers of denim and terry cloth (or the way an engine downstairs springs to life when they feel it) change their opinion of him: that he’s a shithead through and through, cocky in the worst kind of way, hell-sent the day he was born when the universe decided not only to make him a bigheaded fool but also to let him win the genetic lottery in one fell swoop.
Doesn’t stop the clench of their cunt that they struggle to suppress. Doesn’t prevent the mental scolding they’re forced to give themself: the chaos monster that is Noah Davis’s entire being isn’t worth dealing with for even a hookup. It’s pathetic, tacky even.
Something primal, old and hungry flashes in the glassy gel of Noah’s eyes when he forces Lee’s gaze to his, fingers hooked firmly round their jaw; something uncontrollably soft in the way his jaw trembles to mirror Lee’s own when he grazes their hip with his free hand, when he presses his thumb firmly to their clit through the denim of their shorts.
There are a million things Lee could’ve picked from the Rolodex of elaborate insults soaked in a decade of contentious acquaintanceship they’ve stored specifically to knock Noah off his self-appointed pedestal, if only the butterflies insistently bubbling below their gut would just shut the fuck up for a single second. Could’ve, had Noah’s propensity to always control every situation so it goes his way not also applied to their own bodily function, apparently. Instead, they lower their chin, defiantly forcing his grip on their throat to tighten.
Dangerous mistake. Stupid fucking mistake, because their hips buck forward along his thigh at the pressure, just an inch, and Noah’s smile widens dangerously, and oh. Oh no. They know this look, and the words that are bound to slip from his mouth in three, two -
Like a miracle from God or whatever the fuck other omnipotent being lives in the sky, a shout of their name echoes through the corridors. Noah’s hands find Lee’s shoulders again, head dipping once more as their own hands push desperately against his chest in a mad scramble for dominance and escape. They will not be caught - will not be seen - kissing Noah fucking Davis in front of their coworkers. No fucking way. Gag. Although…
It does feel nice to be wanted, and it’s been so, so long since they’ve allowed themself this - no strings, mindless, just a quick way to get theirs. How long has it been? Since before they got sick, since before they put on the weight, surely. And Noah throws them around so effortlessly, they didn’t even feel that hot sting of insecurity as his hands ran down their body just minutes ago. And it’s not like they aren’t attracted to him, as long as he doesn’t speak. He’s always been hot - even Lee’s freshly-eighteen mind had been excited by the idea of snapping his scrawny little bones with their bare hands back then. And he’s only gotten hotter, with that fucking haircut and the way his once-concave pecs now ripple with muscle under their palms.
So, what’s the holdup? It’s not like the two of them haven’t done this before. It would be so easy: they give Noah what he wants, they get theirs, then they never have to see each other again (at least not for another three years or four years, likely). Why shouldn’t they just let him kiss them again?
“Lee!” comes another shout, snapping Lee from their reverie. It’s closer, the sound of footsteps to match echoing just around the corner now.
Their wandering mind had loosened their push on Noah’s chest to a caress, but now they use his momentary distraction to force him from them with all their might once again, schooling their stance into a casual side-lean against the wall just seconds before their friends round the corner.
“There you are,” Mike sighs. “C’mon, bitch, we don’t wanna miss the openers!”
As Lee follows Mike and Noor out to the floor, they toss a playful smirk over their shoulder, but Noah’s already replaced his mask of impassiveness, arms crossed sternly with clenched fists. His loss.
Noor’s laserlike gaze scans Lee as they collect their drinks from the bar. “Have a sweet reunion?” she asks.
Lee huffs. They get enough of this shit from her at home, at work, basically everywhere. They love Noor, truly, but she’s impossible to fool and Lee really doesn’t need her picking around their brain when they themself don’t have a full understanding of what’s brewing in there.
“Sweet as fucking vinegar,” they instead reply, eyes rolling demonstratively. Noor’s lips purse in suspicion, so they turn away before she can do that fucking clairvoyant inspection of details thing she does, leading them back through the crowd to their coworkers.
It’s not that Lee is stupid enough to truly believe they’d manage to avoid Noah at a Bad Omens show - rather that they’d have elected to straight up Not Attend were the outing not made mandatory by their boss.
Mercury Hall is the largest venue in Burlington - a mid-size club with two balconies, standing thirty years with a stellar reputation to boot - but behind the scenes, despite a revolving door of staff, Mercury regularly employs a group of college kids who collectively have the common sense of a single person. Not that it’s surprising, really, considering Burlington houses two universities and both offer a “music business” major. Lee thinks Mercury should be hiring communications majors instead - maybe that’d fix their massive communication problem.
Ouroboros - Lee’s place of gainful employment - is a smaller club on the other side of Downtown, and has absolutely no affiliation with Mercury… except that the owners of the two clubs go way back, oldheads who’ve been buddies since school and all that, and Lee’s boss regularly makes any problems down at Mercury his problem.
Or, the problem of his long-suffering staff, to be precise.
Just like last week, for example, when Lee was just trying to sort out next month’s scheduling while jamming to some ABBA, and was interrupted by their boss Roy roping them into solving the issue with Mercury’s scheduling instead, on only a week’s notice.
Really, the solution was a no brainer. One band was not local and on a tightly-scheduled tour; the other - from just three hours south in Boston, were playing just a one-off gig. Ask the Boston guys to move to the following night - they’d get a Friday spot anyway, way better deal. Enlist Mike and Noor to assist with rescheduling the hired crew to Friday. It helped immensely that the Boston guys only recently graduated to playing Mercury, that Lee knew them from their years of traveling up to play Ouroboros. The other band was Bad Omens. So, really, Noah should be thanking Lee.
Thanks only came in the form of Hank, Mercury’s owner, interrupting their pre-show planning meeting two days ago to inform Ouroboros staff they’d been guest-listed for the Bad Omens gig. Lee thought better thanks would’ve come in the form of Hank hiring staff capable of doing their jobs, and stands by that opinion.
Excited chatter had erupted the minute Hank shut the door behind him - it’s a rare occasion that a decent metalcore act rolls through Burlington - but Lee could only focus on the cold pit that opened in their stomach at the thought of seeing Noah again. Later that night, they’d get disastrously wine-drunk with Noor on their ratty porch couch and lament on the absolute asshole that was Noah Sebastian Davis, but in that moment they only sat blank, nodding along obediently, as Roy instructed them to attend Hank’s “extremely generous offering”.
The issue isn’t going to the Bad Omens gig, because if there’s one positive thing they can say about Noah it’s that he really hit his stride with this project and Lee respects the grind. Nor is it the idea of being in the same room as him; it’s not like they haven’t been around him plenty and willingly over the past decade between touring through RVA with their college band, and in the multiple shared friend groups they’d amassed over the years.
Noah’s annoying as all hell: the kind of person who says and does whatever, whenever the hell he wants, who doesn’t know when to shut the fuck up, who will unapologetically push forward if it pleases him. And, apparently and unfortunately for Lee, his biggest pleasure is making them absolutely fucking miserable whenever they’re in proximity of one another. And especially unfortunately, he knows exactly how to push Lee’s buttons, which ones to push, and how to drive them to absolute breaking point.
And, his greatest pleasure is knowing Lee will just hatefuck him when they get too fed up. Lee would bet their life savings (spoiler: not much) that he was one of those kids who pulled all the girls’ pigtails on the playground.
Going into the evening, Lee’s biggest issue was just that: that they’d snap at him in front of their coworkers, that Roy or Hank would clock the familiarity and fire them or something, that they’d get overwhelmed and just fucking cry. Dealing with Noah’s antics was even a knife’s edge in the past, in casual environments where their friends would laugh it off as “Noah and Leanne bullshit”, when they’d had security in their identity and image.
In the now times however, with their confidence dropped to near-zero, with meds that make them burst to tears at any strong enough emotion, with a fragile half-decades acceptance of their queer identity (and Noah’s inability to fucking catch on and stop misgendering them), Lee wasn’t certain they’d be able to handle the pressure of the battle of wills Noah insisted on having each time they met.
Now, as the giant party of the Ouroboros staff, the touring party, and those of the Mercury staff who are legal to drink head to the Archives for after-hours drinks, Lee’s issue is that they’re actually enjoying themself because Resident Shithead Noah Sebastian Davis is being actually fucking pleasant.
And they’re really not sure how to deal with that. It’s new territory. A no-person’s land, if you will.
He’d slowed down to where Lee trailed behind the rest of the group, likely sick of tripping over Church Street’s uneven cobblestones trying to keep up with Joakim’s (they refuse to call him Jolly. What the fuck kind of grown man calls himself Jolly?) speed racer pace. “Hey,” he says quietly.
Lee releases a long-suffering sigh. “Hi, Noah.”
They walk silently beside each other for a few minutes. From the corner of their eye as they tilt their head back to admire this year’s lighted arches, Lee sees Noah fidget uncomfortably. They’re seconds from spitting out an out with it, already when he finally asks, “So, archaeology was a bust, huh?”
Here we fucking go. They’ve decided their Rolodex of insults is useless and resort to just tossing him a nasty look, a roll of the eyes, and to speed up to walk with Mike, Noor and Folio when he hurriedly follows up with, “Only you seemed so excited about your degree.” He sports an unfamiliar expression Lee has never seen him wear (is it sheepishness? abashedness?), head dipped low. “Y’know. Back then.”
Lee’s brain is short circuiting. That’s the only explanation for the wall of static and dial-up tones smashcut with thirty different trains of thought that occupies it and allows them to respond only with a blank look and a dumb-sounding “oh” because, did Noah actually just ask them about their life?????
Since when did he give a flying fuck about anything but making their night hell? All Noah Sebastian Davis cares about is his boys, his music, and getting his. But, it makes sense, right, since the last time they saw each other was at a holiday party and barely spoke at all - maybe he is just curious. He’s being pleasant, but to what end? When does the other shoe drop?
Or, a small part of their brain whispers, maybe he’s finally grown up. He does look awfully sincere, chocolate eyes wide with concern.
“Just didn’t work out,” Lee shrugs, electing to open up. “For a lot of reasons. Mostly because, I guess I didn’t love it enough to work up to the fun stuff once I started getting hired.” A bitter, self-deprecating chuckle escapes their throat way too loudly for comfort.
The group has reached the Archives now, and Lee sends a short nod in response to Noor’s concerned glance as she hesitates behind Mike at the bar door. They light a cigarette and lean against the wall, shuffling their foot along the pavement awkwardly.
Lee tosses their gaze back up when Noah’s shoes stop before them. He’s open, inquisitive, and they can’t help but relax into it, dumping the rest out: “It’s a lot of travel. And my aunt was sick…”
They choke on the rest, and are suddenly enveloped in possibly the most comforting, needed hug they’ve received since she died.
“My mom, too, recently,” Noah eventually lets out, voice matching Lee’s choke. He presses them harder to his chest, holding them, clinging, letting Lee soak his shirt as they rock back and forth.
They break away from each other after a few minutes, Noah turning to let Lee try to wipe their tears without ruining their eyeliner as he swipes his own away with the heels of his palms. They turn back to each other with tight, abashed closed-mouth half-smiles, letting out matching embarrassed chuckles.
He slumps against the wall and they stand, shoulders grazing, gazing at the night sky. “Y’know, it’s strange to see you here, because I associate Philly with you first, Leanne,” Noah ponders lazily, “But Vermont strangely suits you.”
There’s that bitter feeling again. Lee lights another smoke (having lost their previous to the hug) and follows the smoke trail as it draws circles around the distant stars above, shining bright as though they’re watching from somewhere far, far from civilization.
There’s something you don’t get in Philly - that feeling of awe, of being just a molecule amidst the inconceivable mass of this universe, of every worry and problem being an ant to a continent, and you’re just trying to live your life to survive to the next and the most you can do is just live and love it. There’s something they’d missed for years being away from the far Northeast, something they take for granted until quiet, gentle moments like this. They don’t share any of that with Noah. Instead, they reply: “Noor’s rich parents bought her a house here, and she took me with her.”
“How long?” Noah sighs. He sounds dreamy, on the verge of sleep, eyes closed, body leaning firmly against theirs.
“Nearly five years, now.”
Noah’s eyes snap open, a smirk spreading his face like wildfire, words flowing faster than Lee can even brace for the hit. “Five years of Vermont Cheddar’s done wonders for that ass,” he snarks.
There it fucking is, the other fucking shoe. Leave it to him to open his stupid fucking mouth at a moment like this. Here they are, opening up about shit they’d barely even told their best friend, crying about their dead family together, and he’s making caveman-brain comments about their body.
Lee kicks off the wall, dislodging Noah’s resting body, flicking their unfinished cigarette at the ground. If there’s a God, he’ll make the ash ruin Noah’s squeaky-clean white Vans.
They feel an absolute idiot for trusting this idiot, for choosing these feelings to entrust to him. Should’ve known better.
“With as much disrespect as possible: fuck you, Noah,” Lee spits at Noah’s stumbling form before jerking open the bar door, slamming it shut behind them.
Note to future self (which will inevitably be forgotten and ignored): beware the Archives after hours - it’s completely shot and always devolves to the same bullshit. Yes, every time. Do not be fooled by the arcade machines - they are half broken and will not save you.
Hank and Roy left after chugging their first and only beers in under a minute the way Frank and Charlie shovel down cat food before bed on Always Sunny. Mike’s sniffed out that one gruff DL crew guy that’s seemingly copy-pasted onto each tour that comes through town and is working on enticing him to go back to his place above Ouroboros with that fucking slick grin of his (“It’s only around the corner, they’ll be none the wiser”). Nobody’s behind the bar, because it’s easier for Donny to just let people serve themselves - not like afterhours is official or legal here, anyway - so why would he bother serving?
Everyone’s broken off into small groups or pairs, and Lee? Lee’s nursing their fourth whiskey, stuck finishing the shitty fries Noor always orders after she’s had her first drink, the same shitty ones she eats like, five of before pushing them away in disgust.
The floor is sticky, left to be cleaned by the opening staff, and more than half the bar’s got their wax pens out, making the whole place smell like wet dog. Like the top note of a sick perfume resting above the heart note of the sweat of thirty slightly-too-warm people. Eau de metalhead. They really oughta turn off the heat in this place already - it’s fucking June.
It’s not the heat that’s got Lee absolutely boiling, though, no, that would be too simple. It’s that among this absolute hellscape, Noah is ten feet away, laughing like all that shit outside just didn’t happen. He’s fucking with the glitchy Ms. Pac-Man machine with Nicholas. He’s shotgunning beers with Mike and Mike’s newest conquest. He’s not looking at Lee.
“- and after all that, like we had a moment, and after all that -” Lee laments to Noor, “For fuck’s sake, bitch, will you quit making eyes at Folio for one second?”
Greta Van Fleet’s “Heat Above” is playing over the tinny speaker, and Noor’s distracted “uh huh” as she bops along is tell enough for Lee. The bitch is gone.
“Fuck’s sake, Noor, you really gotta fuck the drummer every time?” Lee hisses, reaching blindly behind the bar for the whiskey they’d set in arm’s reach.
Noor doesn’t hear them. Noor is too busy being her beautiful self, flicking a chunk of perfect raven curls behind her shoulder. Lee watches in horror as Folio presents the other tell that Noor’s one-hundred-percent gone for the night, something Lee has only seen happen genuinely, unironically in two situations - one in movies, and the other when Noor flirts with men: Folio fucking wiggles his eyebrows at her.
There’s the whiskey. Goddamn, do they need another drink. Somewhere behind them, Noah cackles. Nails on a fucking chalkboard.
Can you hear that dreadful sound? Fire still burning on the ground, Josh Kiszka screeches. You, or the other one, Josh? thinks Lee as they pour themselves another drink.
They turn, ready to shoot Noah a dirty look, and the fucker winks at them. They down their three fingers in one go and push off their stool towards the toilets.
Their vision swims, not from the five whiskeys, not from getting up too quickly, but from the pins and needles of bitter fury tearing at their chest.
It’s not that Noah’s enjoying himself. Good for him. It’s not that he’d been a vulgar dick, either, because they’re pretty sure that wasn’t the first time they’d gotten the “wonders for your ass” dig from him before.
It’s that they’d allowed him a single moment of benignant sincerity for probably the first time ever, let him in, showed their tender belly, and then he’d gone and stabbed them where they’re most vulnerable. That he’d pissed on any genuine connection they’d been building up to then.
It’s not that Noah was an asshole tonight, that will never change. That’s the sky blue. It’s that this time, Noah actually hurt their feelings.
Lee shuts the bathroom door with their back, melds themself against the metal, digging the heels of their palms into their eyes as they let out a dry, heavy, tear-less sob. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale -
The second sob drags up with it hot spittle, sending them coughing and gagging into the sink. It’s that it’s all their own fault for letting him in, for getting comfortable in the first place. That’s what you get when you let Noah in.
How fucking shot in the head do they have to be to expect anything less than this bullshit? Because this isn’t how someone with an ounce of sensibility would handle this, right? RIGHT?! Hey, let’s go trauma dump on this dude who’s never had a kind thing to say to you. Let’s go talk about our feeeeeeelings with the guy who still deadnames you FOUR years after you changed it everywhere. Oh, he gave you a hug? Oh, he shared his little emo feels with you too? Awwww. Ohhhh. Cute. Fucking. Idiot.
Their eyeliner is smeared, their skin blotchy and red, and their hair absolutely refuses to lay well despite all their efforts to make it behave. Under the overly-bright fluorescent lighting, they can see the blue of the vein bulging in their forehead. They look like they’ve been beaten, or fucked, or both at once.
Lee swears their reflection grins at them then.
They need to clean themself up and get another drink, and then they need to punch Noah in his stupid, smug, sexy face. Another dry heave works up their throat. No, no, this isn’t right. This is neither healthy nor productive. They can’t keep going on like this, can’t keep allowing themself in situations where the rage literally makes them sick.
Lee sighs, rubbing a hand over their tired face, presentability be damned. They need to go home; just crawl into bed and sleep it off and avoid any gatherings Noah might be at forever. They should probably cut off their mutual friends, too and never step foot in Richmond again, or L.A. for that matter, though they’d never willingly end up in that helltown, anyway.
Home. Bed. Sleep. Never see Noah again.
But when they swing open the bathroom door, he’s on the other side.
There’s a beat as he takes them in, and a small part of Lee thinks, hopes, prays he’ll grant mercy this time. Just this once. Look at me. Please. Mercy.
But prayer’s so unreliable, and Noah is so, so consistent. “Lookin’ good, doll,” mocks the physical manifestation of No Sense Of Time And Place. “Whoa -”
This is it. Their chest is exploding, they can’t breathe, they’ve lost their eyesight. This is how they die.
Noah catches their wrist inches from his face before Lee even realizes they’ve swung.
They let out a hysterical laugh, ripping their arm from his like it’s a third-degree burn, backpedaling so fast from his advance they nearly trip over their own legs.
He’s all, “hey, whoa,” he’s all, “hey, Leanne,” but they’re too busy contending with the fact that each breath feels like a leaf blower full of nails tearing their windpipe. “Leanne, what -” he says, but they knew this wasn’t normal the moment Noah started grabbing at their shoulders, at their face, the moment they couldn’t hear him pleading for them to get themself together. “Leanne, c’mon, Leanne, please,” he’s begging somewhere, but they can’t stop fucking laughing.
God, but doesn’t he sound so tender, so pretty when he pleads?
This isn’t normal, right? Like, what’s that saying about doing the same thing over and over? Right?????? And now there’s godforsaken tears pricking at their eyes and they can’t stop and -
They need him to stop. They need him to shut up, and they need him out of their field of vision. But he keeps getting in front of them, putting his hands on them and Lee wants them off but they can’t feel their hands -
Someone’s released an anguished, animalistic scream somewhere. Everything’s too tight. There’s arms caging them in, they need out, they need escape why are there arms fucking everywhere -
“Fucking, ow!” Noah’s left hand flies up to nurse his jaw where they’d managed to catch him, but the right finds purchase in their hair immediately, like it’s an instinct, like it belongs there. He yanks, hard, forcing their face to his as he crowds them against the sink.
There’s something grounding, calming in the pain at the back of their head, something reassuring in the way he’d tear their hair out at a moment’s notice. He’s so close they can smell the spearmint of the gum he’d been chewing under the liquor and smoke, nose nearly pressed to theirs. His hair tickles their cheekbones like a balm, like a promise.
He’s a vision of fury, all tightly clenched jaw and steely eyes, scrunched nose and furrowed brows. “What the fuck is your problem?” he sternly asks, voice quiet, chillingly flat.
An involuntary, scornful bark of a laugh escapes Lee’s throat. “You wanna know my problem? YOU’RE my fucking problem! I haven’t known a moment of peace since I met you!” they shout through their sob-torn throat. The dam bursts, there’s no stopping this train now, whichever metaphor you prefer. “You’re absolutely insufferable! No regard for anyone but yourself! You wanna know why people leave you in the dust and never look back? Because you’re the fucking worst! You’re a fucking mistake!”
Noah’s mouth twists that smirk again, the one Lee has been on the receiving end of too many times tonight, but there’s no joy behind it; his eyes are empty and cold and tinged red, omnipotent in the weight of his gaze. He doesn’t even need to say it. That cruel twist of his mouth is enough. Takes one to know one.
His lips are on Lee’s in an instant, barely connected for a second before he forces his tongue past their teeth, his free hand wandering anywhere he can reach. His hips push them into the porcelain, fingers brushing up the exposed skin of their belly, hand sliding overtop their binder. A harsh breath huffs out his nose as he passes a thumb over their hard nipple through the thick fabric, pulling a tiny, pathetic whine from Lee’s throat.
There’s a beat when he pulls their head an inch back, hovering by their ear once more, hips giving a miniscule, barely there roll. Then, in a movement so quick Lee can barely acknowledge it happened, he rips their arm round their back, flipping them so fast they’d faceplant into the mirror were it not for the grip he keeps steady on their head, fingers tangled in their hair, nails digging at their scalp. Hips press them into the edge of the sink, fingers pull their head to his shoulder, the arch lighting a tight burn in their spine.
Mirror Lee looks like roadkill, and Mirror Noah looks like the vulture circling round their corpse, towering over them voraciously.
He rolls his hard, clothed cock into the small of their back. “Look at what you do to me,” he croons. A hand trailing fingers dangerously slow up their bare leg. “Look at what a mess you are.” His hand trails lazily from their hair to their throat, nestling there like a puzzle piece fit into place, forcing their gaze on the mirror. “Look at you.” He trails kisses behind Lee’s ear, down their neck, the trail of saliva he leaves behind chilling in the stale air. “Look at you.” His fingers brush their belly. “Look at you.” A kiss on their pulse point. Lee lets out an anxious shudder at the fingers dipping below the waistband of their shorts.
His eyes snap to meet theirs in the mirror, and Lee’s screwed because Noah’s just caught them soaking wet. They can’t force themself to blink, to look away from Noah’s piercing gaze as he slowly, predatorily brings his mouth to their ear. Punctuated by a single flick of their clit, through barely-parted kiss-bruised lips, he whispers: “Slut.”
It’s then their mind catches up to their body, and as their face hits the cold, wet porcelain of the sink bowl, they realize they hadn’t fully caught their breath. They heave as the stoneware digs into the bottom of their ribs, muscles spasming over their whole body as they consciously force them to relax.
The heel of his palm pushes at the base of their skull, his fingers tangling tight in their hair once more, and a single, foreboding finger whispers assurance as it runs down their spine. Cold air on their bare ass as he unceremoniously tears down their shorts and underwear in one fell swoop. His cock prods at their hole and they, body before mind, back against him.
For the warmth, of course.
Nothing more.
That’s definitely not their whine when he slides home with a single snap of his hips, when he pulls out nearly completely, when he snaps back home again with twice the force.
Mercy. What a silly thought to entertain, what a silly plea to beg when you’re begging Noah. Noah doesn’t do mercy. That’s not his modus operandi. Noah winds you up, then puts you down. Like Lee is now. Down. Face down in the sink bowl. Like the stupid, stupid slut they are, in Noah’s own words.
They’ll never get used to the stretch, they think, no matter how many times they fuck Noah. It might be the size of him (though they’ll never admit it to his face, lest it make him grow a second head for sheer lack of space from his already overly-inflated ego), or maybe it’s that he’s just there to get his, and no matter how he fucks - slow, fast, hard, gentle - he’s never thinking about them. And despite that, despite that he’s just jackhammering, shoving their face into the porcelain with force which will surely leave a bruise, the roll of his hips tells them someone cooked here.
There’s no tenderness in the dig of his short, blunt nails into the flesh of their inner thigh, woefully close to where they need him, nor in sticky snap of his hips against their ass, and certainly not in the merciless drag of his heavy cock against that rough patch in them which serves to topple them like a Jenga tower, slowly, shakily, then all at once. They’re so full. So empty. They’re a coin-operated doll, helpless to be broken down and sold for parts on the whim of a single man.
They’re a wet mess, clit so swollen they think it might burst, hands a mess of numb pins and needles. They’re gonna be covered in bruises tomorrow, they’re gonna be so fucking sore when they pee, and for what it’s worth, this shouldn’t feel good at all, but Lee is so fucking close.
Embarrassing.
When Noah’s hips stutter, when his grip releases their head just enough for them to turn their head, he’s got his bottom lip in his teeth and his eyes are squeezed shut and he looks so, so gone (or maybe it’s Lee who’s gone) in the flush of pink running from his cheeks down into his shirt.
That’s not Lee moaning. They’re just trying to catch a breath. But, god, they’re right there, they just need something, they just need more -
Noah freezes, collapsing on them with a short, quiet groan, burying his face in their neck.
His breath is hot, wet, the weight of his heaving chest pressing their ribcage into the porcelain. There's barely a moment of peace before the fingers in their hair tighten once more, pulling their face up to meet his eyes in the mirror.
All it takes is a miniscule shake of Lee’s head for his blissed out gaze to turn stormy once more, for him to drop to his knees.
It’s a race to the finish line the second Noah’s tongue touches Lee’s neglected clit. Quite possibly all their synapses fire at once, all their focus single-mindedly on the way he sucks them, on the calluses on his fingertips as he pads at their hole, on the vibration of a moan they can’t hear.
Lee is jelly. They don’t need to be held down any longer, compliantly staying slumped in the sink, but the soothing scrape of Noah’s nails on their scalp as he presses two fingers in grounds them, turning any distracting thoughts to a static hum tuned to the note of fuck, Noah.
All it takes is a single curl of his fingers, like the press of a button before they’re falling, trembling on an overdose of oxytocin into oblivion.
With a final suck, Noah rises to his feet, bringing a deer-legged Lee with him. They’re dizzy, vision blurred as he turns them gently in his arms. Arousal-coated fingers pry their jaw open, and Noah comes into focus when his hand settles at their throat in an inky-fingered necklace. He forces Lee’s jaw open wider and spits, using the same hand to then cover their mouth.
His eyes are wide and wild, rapt as he soothes the saltybitter spend down Lee’s throat. “Look at you, look at that dirty mouth,” he’s mumbling feverishly, voice still deep with arousal. “Look at you swallow that cum. Who else does it for you like this, hm? That’s right. Nobody. Only me.”
Lee chokes out a heaving breath, willing the tears that prick their eyes to not fucking fall, and he deflates, collapsing into their shoulder, arms dropping to circle their waist. “God damn, Leanne,” he sighs after a beat, dulcet and spent.
They glance down uncomfortably. His face is calm, unmarred by the everpresent lines and tension it usually carries, nose buried in their neck. “It’s Lee,” they say.
At least he has the sense to look embarrassed. “Right. Lee.”
They don’t clean themself up, they haven’t the energy. They let Noah pull up their shorts, shuffle them out the bathroom and out the back door, and walk them home.
The streets are quiet, streetlights haloing the street corners in gold, everyone with any sense of decency long-retired to their homes. Lee wonders what they look like from a bird’s eye view, or from outer space, alone together in a grid of light. What do the stars think - would they shame Lee? Would they judge them?
They stroll lazily, Noah’s arm draped round Lee’s shoulder. He looks so at peace, between the half-smile playing at his lips and the way the streetlights illuminate the lashes of his half-closed eyes. Something acrid bubbles in Lee’s chest. At least they get him like this, blissed out and pleasant before they never speak to him again. Before they never -
No. They won’t think about that. Just remember this.
Lee is halfway up the porch stairs before Noah yanks them back by the wrist, catching them from their awkward tumble into his chest. “Give me a call sometime, alright?” he mumbles, grazing the exposed skin between their shorts and shirt. “Don’t be a stranger.”
Their heart stutters. It’s too sweet. It’s too nice. This isn’t right. “Whatever, asshole,” they say. Weakly. Unconvincingly. With the weakest push they’ve got, with no resistance from Noah, they start again on the stairs.
He doesn’t pursue.
“Call me whatever you like,” he laughs. “‘Long as you call me.”
In the morning, through a blinding headache and a metric fuckton of hangxiety, Lee rushes to check their phone the second they pull their face from the pillow.
Among the sea of texts from Noor and Mike, work emails, and bullshit app notifications, there it is:
Stupid Silly Man: hey, asshole. My number is still the same, btw.
#bad omens fanfic#noah sebastian fic#bad omens fic#noah sebastian fanfic#bad omens fanfiction#fern words#noah sebastian fanfiction#nonbinary oc
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Kind of long. Ranting about the ST fandom because I need to get this out of my system.
What I'm about to say doesn't really matter as such, because there's about 5 people here who I've somewhat befriended here anyway. But I'm done with this fandom and the people in this fandom. Not all of them, but a lot of them anyway.
The hatred, the absurdity, the creepiness, the toxicity. It's too much. I got into this fandom because I adored jamie (and I still do. Always will.) I've never really met him but from what I've seen, he's sweet, kind, and REALLY TALENTED. So as much as I'll continue to follow him, I've decided to part ways with this fandom. Through the blog anyway. Maybe being a silent fan was always the better option, because having this blog (and a now inactive page on Instagram) has burst my bubble.
When I say this fandom, I mean the ST fandom as a whole. Not just the jamie fandom. Where do I even get started?
Hating Millie Bobby Brown for talking too much and being too loud and rude when she was a literal child. As if you guys were real mature kids who'd behave at a press conference if you played a big character in a big fucking show.
All the hate grace van dien recieved for simply addressing the chemistry she thought Chrissy had with Eddie. Calling her obsessed with joseph- her actual real life friend- on a blog/page dedicated to Joseph Quinn - who probably doesn't know you exist. Who's more obsessed here? You're allowed to have a celeb crush or simp over a fictional crush or whatever but learn to separate reality from fiction and stop hating and hurting real people over fictional characters.
Knowing Joseph Quinn is a private person and yet so many people disrespecting his privacy at any chance they get.
The hate Eduardo Franco gets for talking too much or for his looks.
And an endless list of toxic things in the jamie fandom alone. (I probably missed out on plenty other shit that happened in the ST fandom in general because I wasn't ever involved with it in detail)
Jamie being asked to sign a marriage certificate by a fan. Even if it was fake, if he says he's uncomfortable you STOP. Just because you paid for an autograph doesn't mean you're entitled to get whatever you ask for. He has the right to deny, and when he does, you respect his boundaries and back the fuck off. You don't ask him for a refund when he doesn't even handle that shit.
Overanalysing everything he/the person he is around says/does. Breaking news: everything a person does doesn't have to have a masterplan behind it. They're people. Let them fucking breathe.
Leaking his music even when he specifically asked not to. Support his work ethically maybe?
The recent hacking: Jamie specifically asked not to engage and yet people went on and engaged and were surprised when they got blocked. It's common sense that sending hate to a hacker won't actually make them stop hacking when they have the option to simply block you. By pissing the hacker off you only make Jamie's work more difficult. Sit back and let him handle things by himself maybe? He's an adult with a good enough team who can sort the hacking out for him.
Shipping characters, having a celebrity crush, indulging in fanfictions. It's normal. But keep it to yourself maybe? Nobody wants to see a stranger on the internet showing them their sexual fantasies with them. Try imagining yourself in his shoes, it's uncomfortable as fuck. He is too polite to point it out directly, but some of y'all don't get the fucking hint when he indirectly expresses his discomfort, do you? You pass it off as a joke.
I could specifically list down at least 5 more things but they'd be an attack to specific people and I don't want to get into an argument with anyone or genuinely attack anyone personally either.
All I'm saying is that this fandom is fucked. I miss the times I was oblivious to all the drama going on, but my bubble has burst now, and I can no more look at a video/post related to stranger things and not remember the negativity attached to it. I need to get my head clear at least for now. So I call quits. Maybe I'll return some day but I hope it's not anytime soon. It doesn't matter anyway, apart from the few friends I made here. But I had to say this. It was in my system for way too long.
Please don't spread hate x
#jamie bower#jamie campbell bower#stranger things#joseph quinn#grace van dien#eduardo franco#millie bobby brown#stop spreading hate#theyre people first and celebs later#touch some grass#maybe youll realise that theyre more than just fictional characters#these are real people with real feelings#maybe one day you will realise that if you dont like something you dont have to yell and hate about it#your choice is yours but dont impose it on others#keep your spiteful shit to yourself#respect boundaries
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okay so apparently the post i made at 4am last night about the denholm family legacy and corresponding mental health implications blew up and now i'm receiving all sorts of screaming (/pos) in the tags. on a Related note, i've been brainrotting about p!scott's character intro sequence so much and now i Need to yell about all this somewhere or i'm gonna cry.
"Okay (×7), what do I need? Big day. BIG day. Okay. Okay, um, let's get the spyglass Dad got me and… Mum got me the new journal [to] write down all my discoveries."
the fact that the journal p!scott was using as a diary was meant for THIS. THIS was what it was meant to be used for. i would just like to point this out to y'all.
the EXPECTATIONS from the very start. good god it's so offhand of a comment but i am Stuck here. the Expectation of following in your family's footsteps. it's not just "do what We did" but also "do what you are Supposed to do".
"What else do I need? Ehm… outfit, check… oh, food! Um, Mum said… there we go, she'd made me five mutton wraps, okay, this will- I'm a little bit hungry… no, I shouldn't, I gotta save this; this has got to do me for a while until I can, like, find my own things. Ehm, what else do I need to take? It's Initiation Day, so everything starts here."
i don't have much of a comment on this. i really don't. only thing i can probably say is my headcanon of p!scott learning to cook from his mother.
"Um… the sword. Right. This is a family heirloom; it's served all the other Herons well, it'll serve me well, I'll definitely- I'm gonna discover so many things, I'm gonna make everyone proud, just like I was… born to do. Just like I was meant to do, 'cause I'm a Heron and that's- it's all I've ever been, and it's all I'm… was ever gonna be."
god the RESIGNATION. just. the resignation of having so much pressure put on you that it can crush rocks without using a machine. there's no way out of Being in the heron faction and doing what herons are Supposed to do. we see in the vods it's not that you Don't enjoy exploring and discovering things, but Man, would you prefer to do it on your own terms?
(what was going through your head when your brother turned up on the isles again, after you thought star dead and mourned star for a year? when star decided to join a Different faction from you and go against all you both have been taught?)
(you called the nightingales stars "new family" during the dipper quest. it's undeniable that you still love your brother and we all know that, but do you feel abandoned in that star has left you to join a new faction and have stars own life? do you feel that being in different factions means you Shouldn't have a place in stars life anymore, though you refuse to let your actions show it? do you envy star for having escaped the toxic environment where you both grew up in? that while you were born and saddled with all the expectations, star shouldn't have had to worry as much because your parents put all their eggs in a single basket, i.e. you?)
and the sword. the sword being a physical Reminder of all the baggage that comes with being raised by Internationally Famous parents who Expect you to do the same or risk their disappointment… something you either can't imagine or would rather not imagine?
"Ehm, hm… well, I'm- I guess this is everything. (sigh) Here we go. It's the life I always wanted, or at least, the life that I was given."
ohhhhh god the implication of being told this is the life you are Supposed to aspire to. and going along with it because you were raised to believe this is the life you Should have and internalizing it because you can barely even Imagine an alternative.
even when you ask yourself, "do you Really want to live like this?", do you hesitate to answer? it is just a yes/no question but does your answer Always have a "but" after it? because going against what you've been taught growing up is Not An Option For You, at least in your mind?
oh to think when someone asks, "how do you Live like this?", the response in your heart is "you don't." because in a toxic household, there is only survival and you Build Your Bed on surviving based on what you have been taught. because you can barely fathom a life where this Isn't the case.
"Alright, I'm gonna be late. Look out, world, Scott Denholm, #1 Heron, ready for action!"
this sounds like an assurance of confidence, yeah, but who Are you trying to convince? are you telling the world, or are you telling yourself? with all that you have already said, one might wonder which is truly the case.
(also, when cc!scott said that his character had "anxiety" from trying to live up to the expectations, was this supposed to mean "anxiety (emotion)" or "anxiety (disorder)"? because while the first one is very obvious, i would not be surprised if the second one happens to be the case as well.)
in summary: p!acho is a walking embodiment of trauma and drops it in Moments across many livestreams so you don't forget. p!scott is Also a walking embodiment of trauma but drops it in the first three minutes of the series and Never speaks of it again.
#pirates smp analysis#scurvyblr#smajor1995#pirates smp#isleposting#my post#cw mental health#pirates smp theory#long post#pirates smp headcanon#denholm bros#aqua's mcytblr resources
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𝙿𝙰𝙲: 𝙷𝚘𝚠 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚋𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚎𝚡𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚟𝚎𝚗𝚞𝚜𝚒𝚊𝚗 𝚎𝚗𝚎𝚛𝚐𝚢?
Tarot collaboration with @daarlingdatura
From left to right: pile 1, pile 2 and pile 3.
𝔓𝔦𝔩𝔢 1
This pile could struggle with shoving themselves into societal molds and boxes in order to have some sense of normalcy. They could feel like from a young age the ephemeral world has harassed them, you could be somewhat averse to the idea that you are psychic. You need to let go of societal standards and start using your gifts. It doesn't have to be for other people and can be solely for you. You might pride yourself on your practicality but you are burying your divine gifts in the process. Not everything is rational, that's just life. You might've been seen as bizarre or weird as children. You need to get in touch with your past and let go of the need to control. I feel like you guys get lost in details. By allowing your thoughts and feelings to flow freely you can begin to become more in tune with your venusian enery. I'm also envisioning laughter, so it could be like playing and joking around and expressing joy is part of it too. Get in touch with the element of water, releasing fear of your shadow self and flaws will really do wonders for your self expression. Like once you get rid of the idea that you're not allowed to fail or make mistakes you'll be golden. Stop depending on others to lead or guide you as well. Realize that you are the authority figure and your authenticity is your guide. don't be scared your intuition will do just fine
Pile 1, do you like pastel colors? Clothes with light colors? I feel like y'all have a water Venus (or Venus in a water house) but have troubles tapping into that venusian energy. Y'all may have had multiple incidents in which y'all chose not to listen to your intuition and gut feeling, only to realize it was true in the end.
the high priestess, the devil, the world // 10 of pentacles, 4 of swords, 3 of wands // the magician, 6 of swords, the hierophant
𝔓𝔦𝔩𝔢 2
This is a beautiful pull honestly. To connect with your venusian side you need to connect directly to your Venus and femininity, pile 2. Connect to your inner creativity, how you nurture yourself, how you empress your feminine energy. What does femininity mean to you? Don't be afraid to connect with others, have a self care day or spending money on something that you value. You can also try to connect with your venusian side dancing and listening to music that you enjoy, even if others find it weird. You are blind to the beauty within yourself, everyone has a venusian, loving side. You might protect your energy by putting shield around you because you were betrayed in the past, but emotions and feelings are an important side of any relationship. You need to learn to trust people and share how you feel, especially your friends and family. However, keep an eye on who you're letting inside and don't project your expectations on other people because you will end up feeling disappointed. Think who really deserves your time, energy and a spot in your life.
the empress, the lovers, knight of swords // 8 of cups, page of cups, the king of cups
𝔓𝔦𝔩𝔢 3
There could be a specific person or group of people in this pile that are hooked up on someone that doesn't love or like them back. I feel like getting rid of this person will be a new and beautiful journey for you. You are going to be in a long moment of solitude and it's going to bring out your inner and outer beauty. You're going to learn to control your thoughts and emotions and put the right energy and manifestations out there to bring in your desired reality. You could lose some friends or have some kind of debacle but I think people will support you from the sidelines and see the truth even if they might not say it out loud. Take your leave and walk away from these toxic spaces. I feel that this group is very multitalented and outgoing and can be a little too dependent on how others view them. By standing in your power and truth and cutting out the shitty people from your life you will thrive. You also need to stop trying to get the attention of people in passive ways. I feel like you need to be more forthright and let your actions speak for themselves. Good luck pile 3.
the fool, the hermit, the magician // the knight of wands, queen of pentacles, the ace of swords
#pac reading#brujeria#pac tarot#pick a pile#pick a pile reading#pick a pile tarot#pick a card#pick a card reading#tarot#tarot reading#tarot cards#divination#tarotblr#pick a picture#collective reading
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hello! i hope you've been in good health <3
i'm uncertain about how valid this is, since it might just be me being biased as a heavily mercury dominant person, but i think people come with this already made perception of negativity about mercurial energy.
don't get me wrong— i won't say ashlesha is never manipulative or that jyestha can't be toxic or that revatis can't be trickesters.
but listening to people talk just makes me think that most of them have an automatic setting— mercury=bad, and to believe otherwise, they need proof, solid evidence.
and logic goes somewhat like this—when you have an already biased opinion, you look for ways to prove yourself instead of maintaining neutrality and looking at all aspects. and considering how illusory and unstable mercury natives are, they give less shits about how you perceive them and this somewhat just reinforces the previous belief.
i believe mercury demands time to understand and get used to. if i may, (ngl, i'm kinda nervous about how serious this will be taken considering how much some of y'all hate mercury natives?? like it's genuinely scaring me at this rate like chill out😭) i'd like to share my own perspective of people and how they view me!
[ i have an ardra rising; ashlesha moon, mercury and ketu; mercury in tight conjunction with pushya sun (3 degrees) and tight conjunction with ashlesha moon (3 degrees) ]
first of all, i do not relate with the fact that mercury dominants are out of the world clever or smth, because i'm not. simple as that; in fact i look at others and go like, damn, that was some clever ass shit they just did and try to learn from that.
of course, there's a limit to what extent i apply that😂i don't look at toxic people and go like, 'oh yeah, that's a very cool way of gaslighting somebody...' no, not like that.
more like, 'oh. so they took that from me by making me nervous and putting me in the spotlight. maybe i can do that to take my stuff back too, then.'
secondly, i don't relate with the man stealer thing and being competitive with other women either? like women solidarity? i don't get it tbh; i don't even understand where it comes from. i even have some ashlesha native friends and they're all just as chill about this; in fact i don't even see them around men lmao
i used to be in this friend circle of three girls (two venus doms and one ketu dom) and trust me, i've never hated another girl the way i ended up hating these three. they always made me feel like i was being tore apart and examined, and felt judged all the time. i did stuff for them, never got anything except laughter in return and always felt pathetic. i never even felt a proper part of that group either, because they were always trying to avoid me when it came to the fun part of things. like i was disposable.
anyways!
one thing i wanna highlight here though—i easily get uncomfortable around men. and even the nice ones, i mean. my friends are all girls, and i would never trust a man, it's almost obsessive at this point. 🤦♀️
yeah, one thing i definitely want to say is that i do gaslight when i'm caught doing something wrong, or something i was trying to hide ngl. i'm trying to work on it, but it's hard to avoid this tendency. it's like i'm running away from what is my own responsibility; i'm trying to stop this tendency, but it's been there as long as i can recall.
anyway, here's my pov, if anybody gives a shit.
but i really want to call everybody out here—just because you have bad experience with somebody of a certain placement, doesn't give you the rights to claim the entire nakshatra/planetary nature as being 'bad'; what if i define bad as something else? does that make saturn dominants as bad people? or maybe mars or venus dominant people as bad? no! because your experiences of good and bad are as valid as mine! putting forth your opinion is one thing; and out rightly claiming it as correct or incorrect based on a personal view, is, (surprise, surprise!) wrong.
anyways, thank if you end up reading this! have a lovely day/night, love! <3
even Moon dominants weren't this triggered after a 2 part post where i cited Nazis and fascists as examples lol
people are going to have their own opinions and perceive naks and planets as bad or good based on their experiences, I have repeated throughout the many asks i received that any nak can manifest in good and bad ways but ok
i highly suggest you don't read anything on this blog for a little bit because you're taking this too personally
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The Spreadsheet Digest - Fic Recs | Vol. 10
Hi babies!!
Can't believe this is the TENTH week of TSD. I really love sharing what I read with y'all (even if it's lowkey embarrassing to admit how much smut I read in seven days). This week I branched out to a Pedro Boy I don't usually read AND I read a couple different series that like... changed my life.
Fic recs below the Pedro ;)
The last great american dynasty - a Joel one shot by @proxima-writes (part of the Folklore Anthology)
I love love love old homes and I also did a research project in college that involved reading historical letters so this was all just a really cool premise for me. Add in the snarky reader and grumpy joel and it's just heaven on earth for me.
Muddy Waters - a Joel / Ezra series by @bonezone44
This is like... weird. It gives me an eerie feeling. And that is such a fucking compliment btw. I am obsessed. The way you've written Ezra is so fucking interesting (and creepy). Love me a murder boy <3 And reader is really fascinating too ugh. This is so cool. (thanks toxic for pointing me to this w your rec ahhhh).
Bunny - a Javi P two shot by @whatsnewalycat
Obsessed with the premise here. Phone sex operator to get through school?? sign me up. The little Dale Gribble moment was delightful and then it's followed up by incredible phone sex with Javier. And then!!! Part TWO we get professor Javi, which is unfairly hot and the recognition from the voice and just.... oh my god it is everything. I mean this is just the perfect set up for dirty talk and boy does Javi have a mouth on him.
LJ's Bangathon - a Pedro Boys... bangathon? by @prolix-yuy
Every single one of these is incredible. I'm especially partial to the Oberyn x Sit on the Throne one because like... murder + dub con vibes and neither in the way you'd expect. I also adored Jack and Marcus Pike. Their dynamic was so good UGH. Anyway they're all amazing and you should read them.
Learning to Live - a Javi P series by @wheresarizona
This fucking fic is ruining my life. I've been completely consumed with it all week. I can see how a casual viewer of Narcos would say it's OoC for Javi, but I actually think it's kind of genius. Throughout the show you get all these slight glimpses into Javi's true nature: soft, sweet, caring, passionate, gentle... but he's so wrapped up in and beat down by everything in Colombia that he has to be an asshole or he won't fucking survive. The post-show Javi who is ready to start letting all that go is so fucking wonderful to see and I love that Cielito gets to help bring that out of him. The little moments of reconnecting with his family and remembering his mom bring me to tears. The long speeches in Spanish are just so lovely. If you need something to make you weak in the knees and a little teary eyed this is it. Passionate, adoring, filthy, gorgeous smut sandwiched between beautiful little moments of fluff and just the right amount of angst. Me encanta esta historia <3
With or Without You - a Javi P/Frankie series by @jksprincess10
Frankie is so adorable and sweet in this. He just wants to make reader feel good and he also wants to please Javi ugh. And reader is so mischievous getting Javi to do what she wants ahhhhh. And of course our dominant little Javi P is wonderful in this. Fucking top tier smut, Nad. We all know I love a MMF threesome fic lmao.
this is me trying - a Joel one shot by @swiftispunk
This is such a sweet platonic Joel and Ellie fic ugh. I really love fics that explore their relationship post season 1 and like... Joel coming to terms with everything. I loved the set up (similar to his panic attack in episode 6 when he sees the girl by the tree) and I love how Ellie comforts him in her own quintessentially Ellie way. You can see the bond they have where she just kind of knows what to do and say instinctively and it makes me so happy. I see a lot of fics where Joel is trying to comfort Ellie or get her to stop hating him for what he did and it's just really nice to see a fic where Ellie comforts him instead.
take what you need darling - a Joel one shot by @iamasaddie
big thick dick daddy joel what more do you need?
punch the clock - a Javi P one shot by @deathwife
Listen this is exactly what would happen if I worked anywhere near Javier Peña. I would find a way to get him to come with me and I would also be a sassy lil bitch to him constantly. Not like it would be difficult to get Javi to come with pretty much anything with legs and wearing a skirt, but still.
I Can Feel Your Heartbeat - a Jack (Whiskey) series by @psychedelic-ink
Cowboy Jack Daniels is a character who begs to be written as a stripper and this fic delivered. He's hot and sweet and I love it. Part two is sexy as all hell and features clumsy as fuck reader (which is so me). And then it drops the ANGST on you. God I love this. I cannot wait for part three.
The Secret - a Marcus M series by @frannyzooey
This collection of drabbles about a much older Marcus Moreno sneaking into your dorm at night is so fucking hot, y'all. I don't read a whole lot of Marcus Moreno unless he's being sweetly seduced by my favorite piece of shit human, Dieter Bravo. So I clicked on this bc it's by one of my favorite writers and was rec'd by another of my favorite writers and... alright. I'm on the Marcus Moreno train. I get it. And the drabbles left me desperately wanting a full story... wishful thinking?
----------oldies but goodies-----------
Soft - a Dieter one shot by @mishasminion360
Home for the weekend - a Joel one shot by @loquaciousferret
Genesis - an Ezra series by @max--phillips (I'll kiss you if you write more)
Perfectly Intoxicating - a Javi P series by @gracieispunk
Es Tarde y Te Necesito - a Javi P one shot by @gar6agef1r3
Say My Name - a Javi P one shot by @palioom
I Only See Daylight - a Din series by @millersdjarin
A Fresh Start - a Din series by @theidiotwhowritesthings
----------my shit------------
Nothing new! I'm planning a little Javi P thing maybe? Based on my username... MAYBE! Do not get excited.
And maybe a lil Dieter thing based on Dial Drunk by Noah Kahan but again don't hold me to it I am useless most of the time.
-------------------------------------
Happy Reading <3
#fic recs#the spreadsheet digest#vol 10#pedro pascal#pedro pascal fanfiction#pedro fics#pedro pascal character fanfiction
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You are a weirdo. GET MENTAL HELP. You are obsessed and stalking a man who DOESNT know you. //
HELLO anon, Megan and team, and most importantly CHRIS. Hi.
This is the hatred YOU all are pushing towards the only real fans CE has left.
People who believe your brainwash Narrative and support the racist duo, telling fans to get mental health help for seeing your shitshow for the reality it is.
IRONIC, considering one side of your couple used to be such an activist for anxiety and mental health. Guess nothing matters when money is involved, GOT IT. WE understand who he is now. Successful PR campaign.
How does it feel? That money in your pockets feel good right now? It will never be fuller than the guilt your consciences will give you for the way you've treated and forcibly INVOLVED a whole fandom of innocent people to YOUR OWN mental games, to SELL a fuckshit show, who are now being blamed for everything, being told they are mentally ill, and gaslighting what is the TRUTH anyway.
Y'all are NASTY. Beyond nasty. I hope all your businesses rot. I hope your projects fail. I hope none of you get recognized for anything other than the abusers you are.
I hope 2024, the year of Karma, treats you accordingly.
I'm sharing this one, because there are WAY too many blogs on here, calling every PR blog and Mod insane, because we choose to believe something different...
Okay, fine. Whatever. The thing is, I don't really care about what you have to say, anymore. I'm saying my part, the GP sees what y'all clearly don't, so I'll take that as a win.
I won't stoop as low as you all do, because honestly it's sad how you're all the same. Resorting to insulting words, using the same words everytime.
And one thing I learned in life, you can't change minds, or force your beliefs on anyone, so it's best for you to adjust instead. And that means not giving any fucks about those other blogs.
And P.S. you can call me all those vile things, because like I said, I've had way worse. And I've got a life outside of y'all, not that any of you care, since y'all see one post and then jump to the conclusion of us being insane 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣 . And that's not something I need to prove.
Besides, I'm going to answer all the different asks that's against her, and by extension, him. Because one thing none of y'all could ever understand is the catharsis that comes with screaming and venting out frustrations, something I'm sick of explaining to you close minded people.
Anyway, respect to the person who's actually not a coward to hide behind anon, but respectfully, as I can to someone who supports and condones her actions. Get off my blog.
As for this An🫶n, they're so right. This Fandom is so fucked up over this. And Hate Anons don't bother sending in your hate messages, because so much energy is wasted on y'all. And if y'all are going to continue sending hate, maybe y'all should be the ones getting professional help 🤔
Until next time!
🫶Booky
P.P.S. I don't really care if you miss out on my fics. You're blocked, because I don't want to be drained by your toxicity. I've done that to evil Mods, and I will do it to children, who resort to school yard taunts, instead of growing a pair and acting like an adult. ❤️
#An🫶n asks#booky reacts#booky answers#An🫶n to evil anon#booky to evil mod#brave but y'all are blocked#chris evans#chris evans fandom#alba baptista#so tired of the fact we can't believe one thing and express opinions anymore#well isn't that ironic😆#they support someone who loves the idea of oppressing people and their supporters are oppressing free speech 👏#match made in heaven#oh well y'all deserve each other#Imma go write now a fic you'll never get to read because you'll be blocked 🫶❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️#This Fandom used to be so fun and sometimes it still is but the toxicity... oh boy...
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Currently Airing Ranking
I'm bored, there's no new BL today (the special making of episode for Future does not count) and I wanna do something... so it's time to put the shows I'm watching in order of how much I look forward to them and then letting you judge!
Alright!
Our Dating Sim: Literally everything I could possibly want. Mutual pining, darling soft boys, long term separation and a broken friendship that is going to be rebuilt into something more? Yes. Yesss.
Bed Friend: This show is so good and so much more than I expected and I am thrilled. I love what they're doing and I just hope they can keep it up in the second half.
Destiny Seeker: Also literally everything I could possibly want. Mutual pining with crossed wires and everyone looking at the person that they don't really like? Boys slowly learning to communicate? One boy coming to get the boy who likes him right as he starts to pull away from pining because he's sure it's hopeless? I love this show.
Midnight Museum: Not a BL but I can pretend, right? I like the show, I am absolutely unspookable so this show is just amusing and fun. I look forward to All The Cameos, frankly.
The Promise: I... I like show, okay? I really do. It's got a lot of good moments and, when it's serious, it's very good. I just hope that Phu doesn't get a total pass for leaving and that Nan gets to be mad at him at some point.
Past-Senger: I did not think I was going to like this. But I'm already attached to the boy from the 90s unlearning toxic masculinity and the modern boy who already has a crush on him and the son of his best friend who also has a crush on the modern boy? It's got a lot going for it for me.
Tin Tem Jai: Soft. Look, is anything going to happen here? No. Did the show set it up that way? Yes. I look forward to it but I know what I'm getting into and fully expect most people to get bored of this and drop it before long.
Love Syndome III: Honestly, it's gonna be fucked up and toxic and it already is but the show appears to have embraced that and repeatedly acknowledge how fucked up it is and I don't even mind it. This is what I mean when I talk about enjoying toxic things… I just need to know that it's not being turned into Romance.
Chains of Heart: Do I have any idea what's going on? Only about half the time and that's mostly the half that doesn't matter. But I'm still enjoying it and I want to know more.
All the Liquors: Eh. Expectations went way down for this when KiHoon didn't react to JiYu bringing out the soju but I like the look of the next conflict... even if it won't matter.
Jack o' Frost: Honestly... I dunno. I don't know what I think of this show. It's not bad, it's not good, it's just... there. I am not connecting to anyone in the show, honestly.
A Boss and A Babe: ... Y'all I want to like this show, I really do. But I do not. I truly, utterly... do not. I like the message, I like the concept, but I am not enjoying the execution.
I am always amazed at how @absolutebl manages to order these every week. This took me forever and I kept moving things around. I am so bad at knowing how much I am enjoying things, lol.
(I almost put a poll on this asking y'all to tell me what I'm watching wrong, but that felt... like a bad choice.)
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it is so freeing to talk to your best friend. She understands me like no other and truly is my soulsister. I am so deeply thankful for her understanding, patience and her not being judgemental no matter what happened to me or what I did / how I behave. It means so so much to have friends like her in my life. I am going through so many processes of healing recently, it's being going on for such a long time.And it will go on and on. It cannot happen overnight. To break open and to release so much hurt also means feeling it , feeling through it so that we can allow it to exit our being as it has entered us and stayed there way too long. Ive locked myself. Ofc, I shared bits and parts about my healing process and the pain I am going through here on tumblr. But what really almost broke me was locking my thoughts and feelings up and judging myself for talking about them with people,especially my closest friends. I felt shame towards myself and it is only now when I started talking about it more openly that I realize how much pain there actually still is and has been stuck, stagnant for too long. It is time for me to let all of this pain go, to release. To share and to be vulnerable. Because being vulnerable is nothing bad at all. It is true strength. Towards my heart and soul. It it the inititation for healing , for feeling and for releasing. Writing has always helped me to release, ofc writing physically in my book helps more than digital writing tbh but it's still a freeing process. It is releasing and sharing deep thoughts and feelings. But I also understood and learned (the hard way) that we are never alone with our pain and hurt, there will always be people who listen if we do not lock ourselves up in our heads / ignore our pain. There are many ways to release for me, first of all, movement. I can let go of burdening energy when I move and come back to my center, vibing with the flow. But talking , being listened to in person and non-judgementally...sisterhood and brotherhood...this is what I truly have been lacking and missing all the time because I felt ashamed, not ready, bad for talking about my pain , my hurt , the abuse I experienced. I think it is a HUGE step to open up and to allow vulnerability in my life. I was so fixated on my expartner and how I can help him feeling, healing , that I almost lost my self and began to numb my feelings and thoughts. And I understand that this has been fundamentally wrong. Because in a way, I ignored my needs.My being and who I was and still am, where I have changed and what I really need in my life. My friends and family brought me back and fully support me in this processes and they have always been there. It was me who turned my back on them, without wanting to hurt them in any way-and they never judged me for that and still don't. I am not someone who is judgemental in any way and yet I realize that I have been so judgemental towards myself instead! This should not be the case. It is never wrong to speak up about how I feel and what hurt and hurts me. Its is my birthright to do so. To share. To communicate. Breaking out of this very toxic patterns in my head (and life) really frees me right now. It is like dropping so much burden, pain and hurt that I carried on my back like a waaay too heavy sack that I have been carrying for too long, for years and even decades of my life. Breaking out hurts but also feels so right, as it is supposed to feel I guess. Also coming more and more back to my journalling practice helps.I am worthy of support, guidance and help. I am worthy to reach out when I am being deeply overwhelmed with my emotions. I am worthy of vulernability, towards myself and others. I am worthy of not being judged in any way as I dont judge others.I am worthy of coming back to my true essence, my inner child , releasing deep pain and hurt.
Blessed Lunar Year Y'all <3
Strong Energies are head.
May we all transition gently into this new lunar cycle.~~
Sending love <3
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Y'all aren't ready for this storytime.
So in 9th grade, one of the loudest girls in our class fixated on making me her latest project. At the time, I was still learning to cope with (undiagnosed) selective mutism and was the weirdo in the class. S thought I was chill, and I just needed to socialise a little more: interact, take pictures with people, wear makeup.
As the months passed, we became really close. S was a bit of a disaster: Her family wasn't the most stable, and neither was her mental health. She was conventionally very pretty—curvy with silky waves dyed caramel, sharp facial features and confident poisture. She was a bit outspoken and active for the liking of most guys in our conservative south Asian small town, but just pretty and charismatic and elusive and ✨ deep ✨ enough (even as a teen) for men to overlook that and try to slide into her dms and such. S spent her teen years jumping from toxic relationship to toxic relationship—fortunately with people our own age only.
She was just the type to reel in my chronic empath, neurodivergent ass as well. I loved pleasing S, impressing her, hanging out with her, being vulnerable together, comforting her. She was one of the only people that could keep up with my hyperactive texting, and despite our big differences, we had enough common interests to have something to talk about nearly 24/7.
(Looking back, I can definitely see some neurodivergent traits in her as well.)
When I was deeply crushing on this dumb dude that I thought was the coolest because he played guitar, was good at math and expressed feelings™️ well, I was pretty private about it. S literally emotionally coaxed me into telling her the truth. We were up late texting; she was—unsurprisingly—pretty down and I was keeping her company. She asked, “You know, I consider you to be my closest friend, though I don‘t say it a lot ... Will you tell me the truth? Do you like him?” If I‘d read that in a book, I'd be sure there was some romantic tension between these two characters.
When I had my first weirdly-sexual gay dream at seventeen, I was alone in her room with S later that day and hyperventilating. I was already in a very monogamous (and boring, in restrospect) relationship with that same dude and very happy about it, but that moment truly was the first step in my bi awakening. (It was probably inspired by some of my favourite public figures of the time, like dodie, coming out and talking extensively about it.)
I distinctly remember this one night when my boyfriend (spoiler alert: he’s trash) had been mean and made me cry. I was scared he would break up with me in the morning over this one tiny little mistake I’d made. S stayed up with me all night, and by daybreak I felt a flicker of feelings deep inside, of possibilities.
Unfortunately, as we neared 12th grade graduation, S began to get more conservative. She started to put her religious beliefs above any and all personal principles she once had. Ergo, queer people are sinners and also women should cover up and listen to men plus the country should become a fully "Islamic state" and get rid of all other religious minorities to achieve doubtless true utopia.
Uhhh … yeah.
Incidentally, she seemed unworried about following the same rules herself—her “faith” really shone when she was telling other people what to do, or being bigoted against a certain (religious, racial, ethnic, queer, et cetera) minority group she herself didn’t identify with. It was really just an excuse to feed her ego, perhaps a coping mechanism even, and it was hypocritical.
Let me make it clear here that the beliefs she kept citing are mainly a very specific set of interpretations of Islamic scripture that’ve come to be widely taught in our region at this moment in time. They by no means reflect the beliefs of all Muslims (and, in this case, were very informed by the bigotry of the cis-heterosexual, perverted, greedy old men who historically created these rules to maintain their power). S here absolutely is not a representation of the lifestyle and disposition of every practicing Muslim person.
ANYWAY, she began to make remarks about me posting LGBTQ+ positivity content on my social media, or feminism of the brand she didn't like. In my conflicts with shitty dudes from school, she would only support me if her ~ beliefs ~ allowed it. Additionally, she’d always been pretty emotionally volatile, but it had gotten worse since graduating school—She would get mad or upset with me now for being absent, insensitive, et cetera, asking for reassurance but in intense defensive attack mode. It was behaviour I never encountered from any other platonic friend.
As you can see, S wasn't very good at maintaining boundaries, or being open to other points of view. Her negative approach to many things in life often rubbed off on me as well.
With time and growth I found more friends who were like-minded to myself, whom I didn't have to tiptoe around lest I offend them or set them off, who were far more loyal to me. I’m a sensitive person—and I found a warmer community, much better for my mental health. So in our twenties, S and I organically drifted apart.
When I (finally!) dumped my shitty boyfriend (he’d turned extremely sour over time because he hated that I’d grown a backbone), and began happily dating a woman that I was very much in love with at the end of the year, I realised that having friends who support my queer identity is non-negotiable to me now. Just interacting with the queerphobes from grade school hugely triggered me, and I decided I no longer needed to carefully maintain niceties with them.
And it would all have ended there, except S wasn’t having it. We had drifted apart a while ago, but as soon as she saw that I was posting a bunch of pictures with my girlfriend, she began spreading rumours trying to out the both of us.
(Mind you, we weren’t out to anyone yet at the time. S was purely speculating, but she was spot on—I just couldn’t really figure out why this was the thing she decided to fixate on.)
And then, as if she thought I would forgive her straightaway for attempting to out me, she started hitting me up in my dms every few months demanding I give her an explanation for why I abandoned her. Each time, I patiently told S it wasn’t intentional and I had had mental health troubles. (Namely, ADHD, which she herself had once convinced me was impossible.) If she truly wanted us to keep up with each other, she could just reply to my stories in good humour and ask me how I’m doing instead of repeatedly villainizing me out of the blue. (I never brought up the outing thing, or anything queer-related at all. I didn’t want to give her any more leverage than the bits and pieces of evidence she had dug up herself, conspiracy-style.) However, that would only keep her away temporarily.
Not going to lie, the way she kept coming back to gaslight me into taking her back was an exact copy of what my ex-boyfriend had done for months. It was hilarious, and tragic.
… And (I realised later) kind of gay??
She’s been in a relationship with a really docile (*cough* ball-less) dude who agrees with all her conservative principles since 12th grade. (Honestly, good for them, they deserve each other.) I don’t think S has ever had feelings for me as much as she simply felt possessive of me. She regards it as betrayal that I am happily out and queer, and she can’t tolerate that some other girl has replaced her as my one true ✨ gal pal ✨. She's jealous, but it's hard for me to believe her jealousy is purely platonic. It's like she wanted us to be a pair of suffering queers-in-denial sacrificing ourselves for neurotypical comphet society together, hand in hand, forever. For the greater good.
How romantic.
I noticed a few weeks ago that she's finally removed me from all her social media—around the same exact time that my ex-boyfriend (whom I haven’t spoken to in years) blocked me.
Ah, two breakups that I initiated years ago coming back uninvited, for attention that I literally have zero interest in providing.
So bringing back this post:
Reading this was like a major brain go brrr moment to me, because I was like ??? That’s a queer thing??? No way???
And then I read through the comments and saw that every single sapphic person was like “uhhh yep we never dated though good riddance,” or “ugh yes and we ended up dating and it was so toxic we broke up soon after good riddance”.
For the first time in my life, I actually considered that S might not have been a straight queerphobe, but an incredibly suppressed dumpster fire of a queer person with extreme internalized homophobia.
And … it all fits.
She's always been sultry and glamorous in a distinctly sapphic way; I just never was able to exactly put my finger on it. (In high school, sometimes I'd look her up and down and go whoa.) I can totally imagine a parallel universe in which we forget men and attempt to date each other instead. After the first few months of euphoria, she’d probably get us into an anxious-avoidant trap the same way my ex did. She’d cheat on me with a man because of her internalised homophobia, then dump me and come back crying to gaslight me a dozen times. It would take me much longer to get rid of her than it did to get rid of my dumb man ex—because ✨ shared queer trauma ✨.
I really, really dodged a bullet with that one. My girlfriend is the most wonderful, soft, and nurturing person I know, and she is my soulmate in more ways than one. I am very happy, and this is your PSA to not just date the one other queer person in your vicinity when you know you aren't good for each other. Be like me—run.
#wlw#sapphic#gay#lesbian#bi#queer#lgbtq pride#girls who love girls#pansexual#queer bipoc#pan#bisexual#desi queer#queer muslim#toxic friendship#homoerotic#queerplatonic#non binary#lgbtq+#love is love#lgbt#mspec#wholesome#funny#lgbt memes#queer asian#wlwoc#toxic relationship#toxic ex#important psa
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Never EVER I am considering the toxic yaoi/yuri shippers to be a part of the lgbt community. LGBT community, which I have seen in general are very fun loving and are a mature community. Sometimes, in times of some issues I shared with them before, they have actually given me advice on how to overcome a particular situation, they are a really a great community of amazing, strong and down-right mature and cool people. They are brave for withstanding their ideals and all in all are a community of amazing people.
But you know what ISN'T great?
Weird yaoi/yuri shippers.
I don't even know at this point what to think about them. Even if they see two male or female characters they will on to shipping the two of them saying shit like "so gay" and all that. AND yaoi/yuri ships always get double standards. Take akuhigu and shin soukoku. If you go to the shipping website for akuhigu, it will most likely be called a toxic ship because Akutagawa slapped Higuchi once. In the same manner, when Akutagawa has shown explicit distaste in Atsushi, and has cut of his leg, tried to MURDER him countless times, there is hardly any criticism for that ship! You know why? Because they are always in said to be gay and in a "romantic relationship." People have no problem in forgetting that shit and writing cringy fetish fanfiction/making people believe in which Atsushi is a submissive pussy lil bitch and Akutagawa is a yandere rapist. And what's worse? If Atsushi and Akutagawa were opposite genders, this would be the most hated ship in the fandom. Let's take another example. Sasusaku . Ah yes. good old times. If Sakura was a BOY or if Sasuke was a GIRL, people would have no fucking problem with the ship being canon, it would most likely be positively memed around and would be called the best ship. People have legit said this to me: "Well if both Sasuke and Sakura were females, then I'd ship it." Like WHAT? Take Izuocha. If Ochaco and Izuku were the same gender again, this would probably be the most wholesome gay ship to ever exist! But the amount of criticism for Izuocha in exhausting and it's been called "puppy love" on instances. But if it was gay, there'd be no problem! Take todomomo, people always complain like "nO this isn't canon they hardly have any screentime!!!" But mfs would start shipping it if they were "gay" or som shit. Akuhigu's criticism would practically be non-existent if they were both the same gender. Yaoi/Yuri get irritated if they see any straight or hetero ship and start saying stuff like: "but aren't they gay tho." "you guys must be crazy to ship this shit." "y'all need to learn friendships." "gayest of besties." or "nah more like mean bisexual or meaner lesbian." Go to the itakugi or yutamaki pages. Nobamaki or Itafushi shippers get so irritated that they just can't stand the sight of seeing people not shipping yaoi/yuri. They have legit said that "fr, people shipping yutamaki should choke on a log." like can't you leave the hetero shippers be? I ALSO ship m/m and f/f ships like YmiHisu and Uenomoya x Mafuyu, Victuuri etc. Not tryna brag, but atleast my homo-ships make SENSE considering the storyline and the characters. Now, I've ALSO seen aggressive hetero-shippers like erehisu shippers or narusaku shippers. I mean NaruSakus have calmed down a bit, they ain't as aggressiveas they were, but they've still shitted a alot. But erehisu shippers are just the worst. I mean y'all gotta stop harassing eremikas for no reason and stop spreading false shit on the internet.
So kindly stop with the toxic shipping. Shipping is for fun not for bullshitting and harrasing people.
Edit: Okay so I noticed a lot of people are getting the wrong idea of what I said so let me clear something up:
1)About yaoi/yuri wording. I am so incredibly sorry about that. I wasn't sure about wording and I typed some stupid shit. I really don't know how to apologize about that I am REALLY SORRY. (I don't fetishize I promise! I mostly write angsts with happy ending stories,)
2)This blog wasn't meant to offend any homo-ships out there! I am just saying that double standards are not cool. I mean, consider an example of itakugi or yutamaki, if you go to that related media which shows them to be romantic, people will start typing things like, "nah brotp" like I don't really ship anyone in jjk tbh. So, when a place is there to talk about a romantic ship, some people suddenly jump of the bandwagon and start telling stuff like this (mentioned above.)
#naruto#bungou stray dogs#sakura haruno#attack on titan#atsushi nakajima#shin soukoku#narusaku#ymir x krista#mafuyu x uenoyama#itakugi#yutamaki#victuuri#izuocha#akuhigu#fandom#shipping things#stop the cap
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Jesus Fucking Christ. I *wish* folks stopped ""criticizing"" AO3 if they *do not* understand it is an archive and not a fucking social media like Wattpad. I just encountered a post (not on Tumblr) where someone stated their frustration about how recent fandoms are just a bunch of conformists and take Wattpad for granted, thinking that Wattpad (as the corporation that is) *care* about fanfic authors. I did agree with OP, because OP didn't just mentioned AO3 as a safe and better place for fanfic authors, but other indie/specific archives. The thing is, when you have *better* places for your thing why the fuck do you stay on a awful designed site as Wattpad?
Well, a lot of folks took that *really* personal and started "criticizing" AO3 with stupid shit as:
"I don't know if people follow me!" Isn't that fucking better, actually? You *care* too much about followers and you think that "followers = quality". Depending on followers to value your work is *unhealthy* as fuck.
"I can't comment per paragraph/I don't like how people on AO3 don't comment at all". See point 1 but also like, if you want that constant feedback, that's okay. Stay on Wattpad (don't cry if your account or you fanfics get massive flagged and Wattpad doesn't say you shit about why they deleted your works tho [that still happens, *a lot]), but on AO3 is *not* necessary. Also I bet you don't even comment on fanfics. The most annoying people that cry "readers that don't comment are bad!!!" tend to be huge hypocrites.
"I don't know if people still read my fanfic because they can't 'vote' every chapter!" See point 1 again. Seriously folks, stop undervaluing your works. Quantity doesn't mean quality. And if y'all care that much about statics to the point of getting anxious and depressed and demotivated, you can hide the statics on AO3. I *hate* how social media has raised the young.
"AO3 isn't intuitive! I don't understand shit!" Why y'all *love* showing your learned incompetence? Search tutorials! They're *everywhere*. On TikTok, on Tumblr, on Twitter, on Facebook, on YouTube. Y'all just fucking lazy and proud of it. Sad, actually. Also, it shows that y'all never saw a digital library. Also sad.
"AO3 will turn toxic if people start massive joining". Darling, sweetheart, dear: 1. That 'massive joining' happened already, on 2020 and is still happening; 2. This is not Wattpad. Wattpad feels toxic because is like a social media, is like Twitter; it has all the features that annoying people love to use to harass other people. AO3 doesn't and thank God for that.
Then, besides of all that crap someone commented this and I still can't stop laughing: "AO3 is starting to be the site of the 'Not Like Other Girls', I'm so tired". Bitch, what the fuck do you mean by that, LOL? Then that commenter proceeded to moan about how people don't read their fic (oh okay you're just salty, LMAO.)
Anyway, listen. If you needs are covered by Wattpad's awful design, that's okay. Every fandom have different needs. That's why independent archives exists! But for the love of God stop "criticizing" AO3 "because it lacks important aspects" when that aspects *aren't* necessary for an *archive*. AO3 wasn't born nor is it nor will be a social media site, and I'm fucking glad. Also, go to a library. Seriously, touch real books. Smell them if y'all can too.
--
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Hello Dani , this is a response to the ask about TNLD Alec .
I am so glad that we are now talking about it .
The hate toward Magnus really made me uneasy because I felt like the people defending Alec where acting as if Alec’s emotions had more value than Magnus’ LIFE. It gave me major « online mirroring real life « type vibe where the white man’s feelings are all that matters
i didn’t say anything because I did not want to make the situation more unpleasant for you and did not think that the people critiquing would have been able to have a real conversation about the topic.
I had a really hard time with TlND Alex . I could not understand why Magnus got back with him and stayed all these years . He gave me huge toxic WHITE man vibes and I read the story for Magnus and Max (and also your amazing writing and treatment of mental health as a topic)
I never understood why there where so much hate towards Magnus because he was the one who suffered and sacrificed the most for this angry, oblivious white man -like bro could have done so much better.
Like asking your boyfriend to tolerate your racist parents and getting mad because he refused ?? Automatic breake up. He actually carried that lack of consideration when it came to race after he was married to a certain extent too 😤
Let’s not even talk about his jealousy problem, and tendency to »say hurtful things he doesn’t mean « like this excuses the fact that u are willfully hurting someone u claim to love .
Annnnnywwwwways , I could write an essay ..
I am very curious about the demographic of the TLND Alec stans
I myself is a Caribbean woman not raised in the US in their late thirties.
Love this.
Let's discuss further.
Because I can't just mind my business and write fics, I not only analyse my characters, but I also analyse my readers. TLND - in that case - is very special.
BECAUSE, if you followed the discourse around the fic, you might notice that some of that discourse also made it into the fic. I've even directly quoted some people because it was SO interesting how people started to take sides (expected!) but the way in which they started to defend their fave and attack someone else was basically what was happening in the fic itself.
This fic started to mirror reality and vice versa and for a minute it got a little surreal for me tbh.
But in my analysis and observations, I noticed four kinds of Alec stans in TLND.
Please note these are merely my observations and don't mean anything beyond that so don't take it personally y'all 😇
People who liked Alec and Magnus and believed 'they were both wrong' - The concept of 'both sides are wrong' is a paradox. It doesn't exist. Yes, two people can be wrong. But in the event of a conflict, because of the power dynamics involved, one side becomes the aggressor.
In TLND, this changed from time to time, but it was very clear that Alec had the upper hand in the relationship. It's how I wanted it to be (for plot reasons) which is why Alec is significantly older than Magnus and richer (in the beginning) and many other things.
I firmly believe that neutrality doesn't exist. So, the "both Magnus and Alec were wrong" gang took the easy way out. Sometimes, one person is more wrong than the other, and we need to learn to admit that.
People who liked Alec even when they knew he was a bad guy but didn't hold him accountable - Well, at least they are self-aware. But not holding people you like accountable is a dangerous habit. Did you know (fun fact) that marginalized gender identities are more likely to face violence and intimidation by people they know than people they don't know? In many cases (as that initial ask that started this conversation pointed out), Alec was one of the people who hurt Magnus too. It's just hard to see that (for many) because Alec was also one of the few people who loved Magnus a lot. I will not go on a rant about how emotional violence in intimate relationships is completely normalized (and statistically proven) but it is.
Also, this bit reminded me of this quote from rwrb because it's one of my favourite quotes ever.
“God, I want to fight everyone who's ever hurt you, but it was me too, wasn't it? All that time. I'm so sorry.” - ACD
ALSO - I've encountered so many "Alec should've moved on and Alec should've dated someone else" readers. They also fall into this category. One of the reasons I never let Alec date anyone else was Alec wasn't ready to date anyone else. That relationship, even simply sexual, would've been extremely toxic. Alec didn't need another boyfriend. Alec needed to learn how to be a better boyfriend. I said what i said. I would've never let Alec date someone else without working on himself (and guess what, I think he knew that too. One of his better qualities).
People who liked Alec, knew he was a bad guy, but wanted him to get better and were rooting for him - Totally valid people. I like these people. I'd fall into this category if I was a reader. I think, these were also people who felt it wouldn't be the end of the world if they didn't end up together. I think people who were in the category would've enjoyed the fic the most.
People who liked Alec, and because of that, started to hate on Magnus - Wish they hadn't found the fic 🫠
But here's the deal though. Not all readers fit into one of these categories. It just doesn't work that way. If I had been younger and you said you hated TLND Alec, I would have been hurt and offended. But I'm not now. At all. Because I'm old enough to know that the way we perceive characters depends on our own values, experiences and identities. So, it's impossible for the readers to like all the characters and like the fic the same way.
While I didn't mind that TLND got all these different kinds of stans, what I did mind was when people started to get abusive and hurtful - to the characters, to me, and to the people who didn't agree with them.
That was just juvenile, and unnecessary and made me realize they were simply reading the fic without understanding the themes because if they did, they would've realized their mistakes by now.
I'll stop now though.
Thanks, always, for engaging critically with my writing. I love it and appreciate it a lot.
PS - if it helps for context, I'm a south asian woman in her late twenties :)
#also one of my fave things about fanfics is people be like “Well you're opinion about this character is wrong”#and i am like no bitch i wrote this fic my opinion is law byeeeeeeeee#tlnd#my writing
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cw for thoughts on cycles of abuse. I'm ok, just a bit "what" at people rn.
Why do so many people want to put abuse survivors up on a pedestal when so few people actually want to do the legwork of helping those same people get the help they need? is it because the left leaning social sphere has a problem with using performative behavior for social currency? MAYBE! /s.
also, as an abuse survivor, and as someone who has gone through the mental healthcare system, I feel like people are way too "uwu" over how to actually help people who have been hurt by others. like. y'all do realize that sometimes, abuse survivors can go on to hurt other people, right? y'all do realize we should hold shitty behavior accountable, instead of waving away toxic bullshit because "OmG bUt ThEy WeRe HuRt uwu if u call out ppl abt abt abt abt their behavior then UR ATTAKING ABUSE VICTIMS UwU" like. fuck off, first of all.
second of all, being in pain is never, ever a good justification for turning that pain onto others. yes, trauma and learned behavior and emotional programming SHOULD be considered--that is a basic part of using empathy to examine the circumstances of others, their behavior, and gaining context to better grasp their point of view in order to rise above simply having our own emotional reaction to them. however, too often people never go beyond "tragic backstowwy uwu :(((((( don't attack the pwecious smol bean :((((( I'll doxx u if u do :((((("
protip: being a survivor doesn't absolve you of being held accountable for your actions.
protip 2: survivors who happen to also be toxic people often use their past circumstances to gaslight people into letting them get away with less than decent behavior. this is the perpetuation of the cycle of abuse.
protip 3: it is VITAL to try and understand the context in which a person exists, which is unfortunately, never easy. none of us will ever know any one person's complete story. still, you can and should temper your own responses to toxicity by using empathy.
protip 4: having empathy doesn't and shouldn't involve letting people who are being shitty get away with (figurative and/or literal??) murder.
protip 5: sometimes holding someone accountable by drawing healthy boundaries with them will yield....... really bad reactions. the thing is, if someone cannot respect your personal space/privacy/autonomy, you have every right to withdraw from them. they might screech about how hurtful/mean it is, and other people may try to gaslight you into sticking around/putting up with that shit... but they're wrong.
BEING IN PAIN DOES NOT GIVE YOU THE RIGHT TO PASS THAT PAIN ONTO OTHERS.
it's not fucking rocket science but with the lack of emotional consideration the average person seems to have, it seems like it is.
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