#//here’s a way to get people interacting!

[harmoonix]

🩵𝗧𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 𝘁𝗼 𝗹𝗼𝗼𝗸 𝗮𝗳𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗶𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗶𝗿 𝗯𝗶𝗿𝘁𝗵 𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗿𝘁

☆ Birthday Edition ☆

It is said that moon in water natives are born with psychic abilities. They also possess a good amount of spiritual knowledge

Planets at 29° are heavily karmic. They talk about ending something in your current lifetime. I love to call these 29° planets, the 'bloodline enders' xx

Moon x Mercury aspects. These aspects are good at communication and expression, especially if they're in good aspects like trine or sextile

Jupiter x Moon aspects, these aspects are known to make people's day feel better. They are a joy in your life, and they bring so much optimism with it, too

Moon in earth signs, they may hold a tight affection with the material world. They may have valuable things that can satisfy them or make them happy

Vesta asteroid in the 5th/7th house can make them very committed/devoted to their relationships and partner

Juno in aspects with Venus, can bring harmonious relationships between the couple and lots of affection/sensuality

Juno in the 1st house can experience marriage or relationships way younger in life. It can happen unexpectedly

Jupiter x Neptune aspects, these aspects bring a hypnotic energy to the energy. Making you tied to them and their vibe, almost refreshing

7th house lord in the 10th house would prefer to make their relationships more public, or this is a chance multiple people will know about your relationship

5th house lord in the 7th house can indicate dating when young, dating since shcool( higher school lovers), dating

Jupiter in Cancer is often found in charts whose native has a step mom/dad and even siblings (of course, it won't apply to everyone)

Moon in the 5th, 9th, 11th houses, Moon here tends to be very active and loved to interact/socialize, can be so great to hang out with them

Pluto x Mercury aspects can be very appreciated for their dark humor and personality. Showing to the world that not everything is that serious

Jupiter in the 11th house, in this house Jupiter can grant you with beautiful friendships

Jupiter x Ascendant aspects their energy is so special, natives with these aspects can often bring so much positivity in others life

Uranus x North Node aspects, you never know what to expect from life. Everything can be unpredictable and indecisive

North Node in the 7th house, their destiny can be marriage. They will definitely evolve and learn a lot from that

Moon/Neptune/Mercury in the 1st house, they can be the shy type native until you get to know them better

Venus in the 10th house, they can be known for something ex; their beauty, their personality, their appreciation, etc

Venus in Air signs, they may hang out with large groups of people, loyal to their friends, and love to meet new people

Sagittarius over their 1st/3rd/6th or 10th house can indicate they loveee to try new things because they can get bored quite fast/having multiple hobbies

A water/earth sign over their 2nd house can indicate they have a gentle/soft spoken, calm voice. Really chill natives

North Node in their 1st house can be a big indicator in finding themselves. This native needs to find his power in himself

Pluto in their 3rd house can indicate the person may have tendencies to talk dirty, loves to joke, dark humor vibe

Lilith in the 2nd or 10th house can indicate the native doesn't have much confidence in them. They need empowerment

Libra/Taurus/Pisces Moon natives, these are artisan placements. They like to create and invent things, passion for romance

Earth Risings, I know this can vary from person to person, but they have beautiful skin colors. Their skin color might be their beauty mark (all skin colors)

Saturn in water signs have issues with opening up with themselves. They love intense but they also fear to love

People with Mars x Ascendant aspects can often have marks on their body. (Can be birthmarks) but also random scratches and signs on it

Saturn at 0° degrees is born with no karmic debt from a previous life. This is because they create their own karmic life in the current one

We are in 2025!!☆ I'm so happy a new year finally started!! I hope we are all gonna have a good year! ☆☆☆ + Is my b-day today so special post 🥰

Love all 💖💖💖

[housederiva]

Is it just me or is there way less fanart being made for this game than the previous ones? Kind of makes me sad, I remember with dai I could check the tags every few hours and find something new weeks after launch, now I only can get away with only looking a few times and week and miss nothing.

I don't think that's Veilguard exclusive.

Things I and my mutuals draw now are getting less notes/reblogs than they did even one year ago, regardless of the fandom. Fanfiction is getting less comments and kudos on ao3 too (not that they were getting many comments in the first place) Less gifs are being made because gif makers weren't getting reblogs. Hell, most of the post I make have a huge discrepancy between likes and reblogs and add polls into that? A thousand people voted on something and only a dozen people reblog it. It's a hollowing feeling when you realise you're calling out to an empty void, I don't blame people for creating less art because of that.

I don't see a vast majority of the people who follow me in my notes because I have likes disabled. Multiple times someone has sent me an ask apologizing for spamming me with likes and I don't understand it? That is not a bad thing And unless you reblogged anything along the way, I didn't even realise you were doing it in the first place. And the people whose notes I do see are not annoying in the slightest, I love the tags you add and I'm sure the original poster does even more so

I'm not trying to shame anyone Into interacting with the fandom spaces they're in but the whole point of Tumblr and what makes it a blogging platform and not social media is that this is a show and tell website. You're supposed to look at something you think is cool and then wave it around for your followers to see and then they pick it up and do the same regardless of how old it is

When you reblog an ask game from someone it used to be common courtesy to send that person one of the asks from it. Folks used to leave comments analysing paragraphs from stories people wrote and theorising about what would happen next on every chapter. We used to send each other asks just asking about our ocs unprompted

If there's no interaction or community when you create something, then what's the point of creating it? It sucks that fandom is morphing into something to be consumed and thrown away the second it's more than a week old unless you're one of a handful of blogs that got lucky and picked up traction at just the right moment

I'm sorry for the rant but I get emotional when I think about the decay of fandom spaces for too long. And this goes without saying, but you guys can reblog anything on my dash if the button isn't disabled on it

[wwooyology]

Birthday Blues | S.JY

「pairing」 : bf!jake x fem!reader 「word count」 : 2.2k

「synopsis」 : your birthday was supposed to be a happy day. go have brunch with your friends before coming home and spending the rest of the evening with your loving boyfriend. however, the people you thought were your friends made you feel like complete and utter shit. upon your early arrival, jake knew something was wrong, and he was going to do his best to cheer you up and bring a smile back to your face.

「genre」 : smut, slight angst, fluff, comfort

「warnings」 : MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!!, cussing, kissing, unprotected sex, clit play, fingering, crying, petnames (pretty baby, baby, babygirl, sweetheart, my love...), teasing, soft dom!jake x sub!reader, jake is just a overall sweetheart, biting/marking, soft sex, pantie ripping, oral (f. receiving), creampie, slight breast play, tooth-rotting fluff at the end, lmk if I missed anything!!

「notes」 : this is a request from this anon here, and I decided to just finish this fic and post it for everyone as my final farewell to the enhablr community (at least the writing part of it) after this I probably won't ever write another full fic for any of the members 😞 but even if this isn't the best I hope you all enjoy this full-length jake fic, especially you nonnie!! mwah 🫶

You had willed yourself to not cry, not wanting to waste any tears on people who didn't deserve them. Though you couldn't help the tightening feeling in your chest as you stepped closer and closer to your apartment door.

It was your birthday. You were supposed to be out celebrating with your friends. You even went as far as getting all dolled up, wearing the new sundress that Jake had bought for you. Just to be completely and utterly humiliated by the people who were supposed to be your friends.

Sniffling, you dug your keys out of your purse before unlocking the door. Pushing the door open, you were met with the soft sound of music playing in the kitchen, telling you that Jake was home. Sighing, you shut the door behind you and slip out of your shoes. You didn't have the energy to put on a fake face, not that it'll work with Jake anyway.

Hearing the door close, Jake stood straight, looking over his shoulder; you weren't supposed to be home for another hour or so. Dusting his hands off on his jeans, he turned and made his way towards the entrance hall, a silly smile playing on his lips. However, as soon as he caught sight of your distraught expression, his smile dropped. 

“Baby, what's wrong?” His tone was dripping with concern as he made his way to you, taking your arm in his hand.

Swallowing thickly, you looked up at him, tears brimming on your waterline. “I don't wanna talk about it. I'm just gonna go change.” You spoke in a low tone, scared that you'd cry if you spoke any higher. 

Jake, however, didn't let go, keeping you rooted in your spot. 

“We don't have to talk about it, but don't change, you look beautiful.” He pouted, the sight making your heart squeeze, and he knew damn well that you'd give in to him. 

You sigh, “Okay. What were you doing in the kitchen?” 

A bright smile then spreads on the male's lips, and he grabs your hand, pulling you into the other room. As soon as you walked through the threshold, your eyes went wide. 

The room smelled like vanilla, the lights were dim, and there was a small birthday cake at the center of the dining table.

Jake pulled you over to the table so you could see. Your heart flips in your chest as you look over the decorations.

“Jakey, baby, you didn't have to do all of this.” You go to turn and look at him, but he stops you when his arms snake around your waist, pulling you into his chest.

He hums, planting soft kisses on your exposed neck, “You deserve it, baby, all of it.” 

You sigh, head falling to the side to give him more access to your skin. His hands started to roam your body, his left coming up to cup your breast, squeezing softly.

“Jake.” You breathe out, your body starts to grow warm, and his kisses start turning into hot, open-mouthed kisses.

“Shh baby, let me take care of you. I'll make you feel better, I promise.” He whispered against your skin as his right hand moved down to the hem of your dress.

You completely melted in his hold, letting him do as he pleases, your hands gripping his shirt from behind you.

His plump lips glided over your skin, biting down every so often to hear the soft whines that would fall from your lips. His right hand slips under your dress, finding your clothes core. 

“My pretty baby is having such a bad day.” His hand cups your heat, eliciting a breathy moan from your parted lips, “But it's okay, Jakey is gonna make her feel real good.” 

He presses against your clit loving the way your body starts to tremble from such a small action. Pulling your panties to the side, he runs his fingers through your folds, feeling how wet you had gotten from just a few kisses. As much as he wanted to tease you for it he went with his better judgment and kept his mouth shut. 

“You're soaked, baby,” Jake's voice dropped an octave as he found your clit once more, pressing slow circles on the bundle. 

“Jake.” You whine, clearly wanting him to go faster, but he doesn't. Instead, he pulls his hand away.

You opened your mouth to say something but were silenced when he turned your body around, grabbing the backs of your thighs and propping you up on the dining table. 

A gasp fell from your lips but was quickly swallowed by Jake's. His hands tugged at your dress until it was a pool on the ground. 

“God, you're so fucking beautiful.” He groans as he takes in the new skin shown to him, tracing every inch of your body as if he hasn't seen it countless times before. 

Despite that fact, you still found yourself growing shy under his watchful gaze; heat crept up your neck before painting your cheeks a cherry red. 

“Lay back for me, baby.” He pecked your lips once more, laying your body flat on the table.

“Jake.” You breathed out when his lips latched into your nipple and flicked the bud with his tongue while his free hand trailed down to your panties, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. 

Your hips bucked into his palm as he pressed down on your clit once more, a sweet moan falling from your lips. Your fingers move from the nape of his neck to thread them through his deep brown stands, pulling softly. 

“J-Jake.” You huffed out, eyes rolling slightly when he prodded at your entrance. “Jakey, please.” Tears started to well up in your eyes before falling.

Jake coos softly, peppering your face with kisses as he slips his fingers into your warm heat. Your eyes rolled back as his skillful fingers easily found your sweet stop, pressing right against it. 

“There's no need to beg, baby, I'll give you what you want.” He mused, pressing his lips against yours, stealing the air from your lungs, and his fingers picked up their pace, stars dancing across your vision. All of the tension and sadness from earlier slowly dispelled with every stroke of his fingers.

Soft moans fell from your parted lips as he continued his leisurely pace, his mouth preoccupied with your chest. Deep red marks littered your skin as his lips trailed down the valley of your breast, down your navel, before finally coming face-to-face with your weeping cunt. Without so much as a second thought, he buried his face between your thighs, inhaling your scent as his nose bumped against your aching clit. A shocked gasp tore through your throat, your hand flying down to his head as he licked a stripe up your pussy, starting from where his fingers were still working into you before stopping to wrap his lips around your clit, sucking gently.

The softness of his movements was sending your mind reeling. He was always so eager to get you to cum. Even more so if it was on his tongue. However, seeing him now, all he cared about was your pleasure and helping you relax.

His eyes caught yours from your tense tummy, love, and adoration gleaming in his warm chocolate orbs. The love and tenderness that was seeping from him brought tears to your eyes. Noticing the glassy look in your eyes, he removed his mouth from your clit and crawled back over your body.

“What’s wrong, baby?” His voice was soft as he pulled his fingers out, leaving you empty. The feeling caused you to whine softly, but you swallowed it down as Jake leaned down. He captured your lips in a gentle kiss, relishing in your taste, your eyes fluttering shut as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

“I need you, Jakey. So bad.” You murmured against his lips when he started to pull away, and Jake could feel his pants grow even tighter at the desperation in your tone. His fingers danced across your skin as he looked down at you, slotting his body fully against yours.

“Hmm, how do you need me babygirl?” His tone was nothing short of teasing as he continued to pepper kisses all over your face, down to your chest.

Your fingers curled into the material of his shirt, tugging roughly when he nipped at your collarbone. “I need you in me, Jake. To fuck me, please!” You cried out, the tears that had built up on your waterline finally spilling over.

“Such a dirty girl,” He cooed, lips detaching from your skin to take in your messy appearance, Mascara was already running under your eyes from all the crying you’d done, and your once glossed lips had the pink tint smeared all over your chin. It wouldn’t be a surprise if Jake had some on his chin as well. “But I did promise to take care of my needy baby.” 

He wasted no time in discarding his clothes and quite literally tearing the thin fabric of your underwear away from your body. After there were no barriers left between the both of you, Jake moved forward, pressing your thighs further apart. Jake pulled small whimpers from your swollen lips as he teased your clit with his tip, relishing in the way that your body trembled in his hold.

“J-Jake.” You looked up at him with a pleading gaze, “You said I wouldn’t have to beg,” The pout that formed on your lips had his cock twitching in his hand, a small groan falling from his lips.

“I did, didn’t I?” He chuckled, trailing his tip down to your slit but not quite pushing in yet, “Okay, I’ll give my needy girl what she wants. All she needs is Jakey's cock to make her feel better, hmm?” Then, with a final hum, he pushed into your tight hole, and your back arched from the sudden intrusion.

“Fuck! Yes, just need Jakey’s cock!” You cried out in pure ecstasy as he slowly rutted his hips into yours, watching your body twitch with his bottom lip caught between his teeth.

Before too long, his slow pace grew steadily until he had your legs dangling over his shoulders as he bullied his thick cock into your twitching cunt. The room filled with the sounds of skin slapping and a mixture of your broken moans and Jake’s low whimpers as he neared his release.

“Fuck baby, I’m so close.” His voice was borderlining a whine, his fingers tightening around the plush of your thighs, nails leaving crescent shapes behind. “I need you to cum for me, sweetheart, please.” The pleading tone in his voice had your pussy tightening around his length, the coil in your stomach tightening crazily.

“Jakey!” You cried as when the rough pad of his thumb met with your aching clit, rubbing tight circles over the small bundle of nerves. Tears blurred your vision when you finally felt that coil snap, your release gushing all over Jake’s length.

The intensity of your orgasm sends Jake over the edge, his face burying itself in the crook of your neck as he damn near folds your body in half. He released hot spurts of his thick cum inside of your fluttering walls. His warm breath fanny the sweaty skin of your neck, making you shiver.

Neither of you said a word as you both came back down from your highs, bodies still entangled on the dining table. Jake was the first to speak, his lips ghosting over your jaw as he lowered your quivering legs so they could relax.

“How was that present? The best yet, if I do say so myself.” He gave you a lopsided smile as he pulled out of your spent cunt before helping you sit up. Heat flushed your face as you smacked his chest.

“You’re something else, Jake.” You shook your head, but a wide grin still spread across your lips, and Jake looked at you with an endearing gaze. His intense eyes caused you to suddenly feel shy, cheeks turning a rosy red, “Why are you staring at me like that?”

“That’s the first time I’ve seen you smile since you got home.” He mentioned that you felt a guilt start to settle in the pit of your stomach. However, Jake was quick to grab your attention once more, “Forget about them, my love; if they’re making you feel like shit, then they don’t deserve to be your friends.”

Tears involuntarily filled your eyes as you looked up at him. Your bottom lips quivered as you fought back the urge to cry once more. Jake hushed you as he wrapped his arms around your smaller frame, whispering sweet nothings in your ear.

Your arms wrapped around his midsection as you soaked in his warmth, a few stray tears sliding down your cheeks. If there was one thing in the world that you were most grateful for, it would be your boyfriend. He always, always went above and beyond to make sure you were happy and cared for.

Smiling softly, you nuzzled into his chest. This was where you belonged because even if no one else would have your back, Jake would without fail. It was truly a blessing to have met him, and you’d be damned if you were ever going to let go.

He was home.

@wwooyology | Do not steal, plagiarise, translate, or repost any of my work

𝖉𝖎𝖘𝖈𝖑𝖆𝖎𝖒𝖊𝖗 : ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ɴᴏ ᴡᴀʏ ᴀ ᴛʀᴜᴇ ʀᴇᴘʀᴇꜱᴇɴᴛᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴏꜰ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀꜱ. ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ᴘᴜʀᴇʟʏ ꜰɪᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ᴀɴᴅ ꜰᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏᴍᴇɴᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ɴᴏᴛ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴛᴀᴋᴇɴ ꜱᴇʀɪᴏᴜꜱʟʏ.

[choccy-milky]

I dont know why I had this vision of clora riding a scooter, like a cute light blue one with italy vibes, like a vespa, and sebastian panicking behind her LMAO

I SEE THE VISION AS WELL...idk how shes on a vespa tho since they werent invented yet so lets just assume theres time-turner shenanigans going on LMAO

but also anon this request was so funny to me because the SAME day you sent me it, i also got this one on twitter:

TRULY THE DUALITY OF MAN IS AT PLAY HERE!!! LMAOO debauchery vs wholesomeness...and it made me laugh so much

(and for anyone curious yes i WILL also be honouring the other request......eventually👀)

@jstfndmthngs splitting your ask into 2 again bc its a CHONKER but I LOVED READING IT🥹🥹 "how much they love each other to the abnormal level that i envy" LMAOO THATS FANFICTION FOR YOU, BABY!!😍 also YESS interacting with my readers in the comments was my fav parts of writing a lot of the time, and im SOOO grateful to the ppl who commented bc without them the story would have turned out DRASTICALLY DIFFERENT. like, i know there are some people who write the entirety of their fanfic and then upload it in chunks, but if i had done that/written my story in a vacuum and hadnt incorporated any of my readers ideas/suggestions it would have been SOOOO much worse honestly LMAO. like, not even necessarily putting their requests or ideas in my fic, but even sometimes just reading a comment that would say something like "i cant wait to see how clora/seb reacts to..." would make me think...oh. i was never planning on even showing their reaction to that. but now that they say that, good point, i definitely need to include that LOL. so yeah even just little stuff like that was SUPER important to my writing process and my story and helped me keep in mind what people wanted to see/things i may have missed or glossed over if i'd been writing by myself, but i also just loved getting comments in general bc i loved reading them and they were so motivating🥹 BUT THANK U SO MUCH IM GLAD U LIKED MY STORY/SEB & CLORA SO MUCH, AND TY FOR SHARING ALL YOUR THOUGHTS WITH ME!!🥹💖💖 im lowkey the same way... i cant read any other fics rn bc im still too attached to seb/clora BAHAHA so i still need to give it some time before i delve into other HL fics (i even downloaded a program that will let me replace names so that i can replace the mc's name with clora's LMFAOOOO THATS HOW MENTALLY ILL I AM ABOUT THEM!!😭😭DONT COME FOR ME🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️🚓)

omg...i already love unlocking kinks in people but for it to be specifically seb x clora is even more of an honour BAHAHA omg i love that....but i get it too. clora is submissive and breedable af😍LMAOO (im sorry💀that wasnt me just now that was seb blame him)

@acrenna MERRY LATE CHRISTMAS AND ALSO LATE HAPPY NEW YEAR!!! this is so sweet THANK YOU SO MUCH😭😭im happy my story was able to get you out of your reading slump!! (and hopefully will continue to, with my oneshot im slowly but surely working on😩) BUT THANK YOU AGAIN I APPRECIATE YOU SM🥹🥹💖

@misskkfritz you actually arent the first to say this and i also saw a pinterest comment on my art say this........FELLAS DO I NEED TO WATCH GILMORE GIRLS NOW🤔🤔🤔

[coldilikeit]

Isekai reader x Batfam (Neglected au)

Female reader

Chapter 6- The mission is non-existent

TW: School shooting

______________________________

Damian looks around the room, it feels more like an apartment rather than a room

"No wonder the miss rarely comes down for food, with the amount of kitchen appliances here she'd rival a small town restaurant..." Alfred chuckles, he looks at the expensive, top grade materials

"There's nothing in the fridge though..." Jason grumbles, Duke is asleep beside you holding your hand and Bruce admires the scene "That's enough, stop rummaging through your sister's stuff"

He looks around your room, pictures of your friends, you at parties, you at school events, how the fuck?, you held your own charity gala? How??? Where did you get the money? How did this not reach him?

"hng- ow- What the fuck!?" You wake up and you see the cast of the Addams family surrounding you

"Don't try to overdo it" Dick helps you sit up

"Huh?"

Reader! You are fucked, everyone's hatred meter has gone down to 10%, EVEN DAMIAN AND JASON'S METER

You shift further away from Dick, his gaze turns sad sensing your discomfort with him, he really needs to change that

"Is there something you need?" Duke asks, he holds your hand tight, "Do you need us to do something?" Asked Tim

"Can you all please leave my room..." You say and you see that Bruce hesitates "Are you sure? You might need assistance?"

Reader, make them go away, it keeps on dropping! If it reaches zero you'll fail!

"There's no need, it was just fear gas..."

_____________________________

School was absolute shit.

Damian had pulled you away from your friends to eat with you during recess, you'd also found out Tim bribed the principal to switch your classes so you'd have the same as his

Some of your friends are annoyed that your siblings are meddling, they've never eaten lunch with you before? Why now? And others are cooing, they've never seen you interact with your siblings, and the fact your gentler with your friends than your siblings makes them happy

Your teachers are grateful that you manage to tame Damian

"(Name)! I watched your violin concert last night! You were amazing!" Says a student, you smile "Thank you!"

Then the student's mood shifts "I heard that the route you were taking home was attacked by both the Joker and Scarecrow right? Are you okay?" They ask, the surrounding students get curious but don't necessarily engage

"yeah... I'm fine" you say, you're trying to think of ways to differentiate the topic, the student gasps "Oh but I saw on the news that you were one of scarecrow's victims! And that you inhaled the fear gas..." She says as she smirks, "I don't really want to talk about it, and I'm fine..." You answer

"Oh but-" Damian grabs her arm and pushes her away from you "She says she doesn't want to talk about it? Why are you pushing?! Are you really worried or you just wanted gossip?" He snarls

You see the girl wince but smiles anyway "ah right... Sorry"

And then it hit... An attack? It hits your school so fast, the students scream and panic, "Everyone out!" Shouted a security guard, you hear a bunch of gunshots in the halls and the screams from that direction become quieter until it stopped completely see

Are you serious?

A school shooting.

Never in your original years and reincarnated years combined have you ever been so fucking scared and pissed off at the same time

First and foremost, you just survived the mother fucking scarecrow, now you have to survive guns?

Damian holds your hand and runs away with you, "What are you doing!? You're supposed to save people!?' you whisper-yell to him, he gets you to a hidden area and hands you a small dagger he hid in his socks, he looks at you worryingly "Stay here, wait till I get back-"

"They've been apprehended!" yelled a student, "Well... There's no need for that huh?", slowly you and Damian walk out of the room to see what happened? Did another bat get them already? Was it Tim?

Then you see her.

In a hero costume, trapping the shooters with what seem to be magical ropes, her costume design looked like it was stolen from my hero academia

"There's no need for all of you to worry, for I Protagonist has taken care of them, they'll be handed over to the police" she says

"Did she really name herself 'Protagonist'?" Tim comes from behind you looking baffled at the name choice

"At least she saved us" you say

_____________________________

Hey so do you guys remember that one comment about the family couch on chapter 2? And how all the years of living there you never sat on it? Well after days of the family trying to get you to watch a movie with them on the couch, you confessed you feel weird about sitting somewhere sacred to them

You come home after volunteering at a soup kitchen that the family couch is gone, replaced by a new pristine couch with comfortable pillows

Stephanie smiles at you "You're back! Wash up, the family is watching a movie" mixed in her voice a tone of dominance, you can't say no

You find yourself huddled up, you feel yourself sweating as Tim curls up on you and Cass is leaning on your shoulder, Dick hand you the remote "You pick" she says

You scroll for a few moments and you feel the family get a bit impatient, so you click on the nearest movie you find

Bad idea.

It was a movie about a dog being abandoned by their owner in a hike and as they try to find their way home they die

You're in shambles, you've watched people die in movies, either terminal illnesses, a series of unfortunate events, murder, you've cried to some, some didn't phase you

But a sad dog movie?

You are wrecked, Jason hands you your 3rd tissue pack, your inconsolable, you hate animals getting sad endings, the. Titus licks your hand, Damian brought him to console you, while Bruce chooses another movie, this time he chose a dog movie with a happy ending, you hugged Titus the whole night

It happened to you before, when you and your friends were in a really lengthy assembly, they fell asleep on your shoulders, you made it your mission to not move at all, you didn't want to wake them, you liked that they learned on you for comfort

But Tim and Cass sleeping on you, you have no idea what to do, your instincts that you got because of your friends tell you to stay still so they'd be comfortable

Another part of you is screaming that if you don't move the hatred meter will go down

And go down it did

Everyone is down to 2%, you can't let it get to zero, you can't

Bruce looks at you "(Name) about your upcoming 16th birthday-"

He sees you asleep, he smiles and admires his children

Matter of fact you were just pretending to be asleep, if you hear another birthday party plan you'll die, last year you had that Damian excuse, but now? You're out of reasons to not have that stupid party

So you sleep...

Oh well look at all of you...

What a happy family.

You're done for.

_____________________________

Damian: I need to place (Name) in a safe space before helping

Protagonist: the job is done

Tim: Tacky fucking name

_____________________________

@jellyedkazoo @vanilliona @shyenemyperson @popboomcha @plsfckmedxddy @devotedlyshamelessdetective @dorkatron-2000 @yuyuzi-ling @sweetsugerskull @butratherbutrather @yu-reiii @clementinesyummy @lfiee @iamapotatoe @type-ink @unknownloner1345 @randomlyappearingartist @justatimidcreator

[magnoliapromenadegalleria]

I take no issue with monetizing cc. You release good content and have an agreeable release window, I either choose to subscribe, or I wait. Cool. What I do take issue with is this

Perma-paywalls or ridiculous early access release windows. Anything exceeding thirty days is excessive. My opinion.

2. New creators setting up immediate early access. The skillset is just not there yet to put a price on your creations. You barely have a base to sell to. This includes creators who created for other games, then come over to The Sims and try to sell to us. For example, the creator that makes skins and admitted they don't even play the game. Simply here for profit.

3. Creators that do not qc their work, or steal from other creators. Girl.

4. Customer service. Once you start creating for profit, whether it be supplemental or your main source, you have to have a level of customer service and professionalism. You have now started a brand. A very niche brand, but that's what it is. You cannot be short with people for asking valid questions and catching an attitude with them. Like that one lady with the tree coming out in February. If you are one of those rare creators who is lucky enough money to hire someone to handle your social media, I suggest you do that. Or supply a friend with more patience with their favorite coffee or something and let them handle it. Something.

5. Not interacting with the community you are trying to sell to. Connect with people. Repost their edits, lookbooks, builds, leave comments, give a like. The creator mentioned above commented that no one comments on their stuff, at least not here. Fair. This community does not talk like it used to, but to each other like it used to, but you can go to creator pages and see that they are perfectly curated advertisements. Like a showroom. No reblogs of anyone using their content. If you want that for your main page fine, but at least have another side blog where you can do the outlined above.

6. Pushing something out just to push it. I think we have entered a space, both creator and follower/consumer, where everything feels so fast-paced. What's the new thing coming out, what's next, etc. So much so that I think it has made creators push out content just to keep up, especially if they rely on that income. This has resulted in some creators getting into hot water for releasing the same item(s) in different sets and in different colors. Or creators releasing duplicates of the same thing. It can be frustrating, but I question if it is because they're just trying to keep up, or afraid to try something new or different in fear of it not doing well. Some smaller creators who create different content don't get as much love and I question if they would receive more if they followed the wave, or were big enough to start one.

Now to this community

If a creator disrespects you or others or moves in a way that you don't fundamentally agree with, and you complain but still download and or advertise their content, you're moving counterproductive to your plight. Why would anyone reflect on themselves when you prove that you're going to advertise their content anyway?

2. Show love to these creators. Big and small, especially small, monetized or not. Everyone likes to hear or see that what they release is valued. Don't harass or disrespect creators if they take a break, or they don't get something out quickly. Especially the modders.

3. Interact with each other. Even if your aesthetics or different. This is a community. If you see something you like, LIKE IT. Share it, leave a comment.

4. Create the thing simmer. The edit, cc, build, lookbook, whatever. Create the thing and share the thing. Even if it isn't part of a popular trend or aesthetic.

I'm speaking about myself here too because I want to better about this.

I want this to feel fun again. Not just based on what is in at the moment.

This might be read. Might not. Just my two Abes. Anyway I'm about to make some soup from scratch. Toodles!

[fictionalsweethearts]

THE COMMISSION PT. 2 | SEVIKA X READER | ARCANE

Synopsis: You've been her personal mechanic for two years, but your growing reputation in the field has earned you dozens of clients and commissions. Sevika was looking for something fresh, durable and of good quality, and when it came to her sexual appetite, she only accepted the best. So she turned to you for a special commission.

Contains: arcane!sevika, feminine reader, lesbians, lots of dialogues, arcane universe, cannon sevika, mechanic!reader, wlw, slow burn baby 💋, several parts btw

Word count: 2,330

Note: English is not my first language, so I apologize in advance for any mistake in my writing. Enjoy!

Sevika trusted your good work but your integrity mattered to her as well. The intimidating facade, her bearing and her gaze made her look lethal, but the truth was that Sevika protected the people she cared about and was extremely loyal. After years working for Silco and cleaning up Jinx's messes, Sevika had developed a special fondness for you and your good humor, as well as your eyes and your easy smile. She wanted to protect you for this commission as well.

A couple of days after the meeting, you were outside The Last Drop, waiting for Sevika while smoking a cigarette. "What did I get myself into." you whispered, exhaling before stepping on the butt with your heel, watching the woman approach from the distance. Next to her was one of her lackeys and another man you didn't know, a tall, dark-haired man with slanted eyes, veiny hands and good-looking, presumably a worker at the House of Pleasure. The candidate.

She gestured for the man next to her to approach and spoke up. "I want you to meet my friend, Silas." Sevika said, her voice a little gruff. "He's here to... provide for your mold-taking."

Gosh, this so embarrassing you thought, giving Silas a nod. "Nice to meet you, I assume Sevika explained you the uh... reason you're here."

Silas nodded, still smirking. "She did." He replied, his eyes roaming over you. "And it's a pleasure, lovely."

"Huh, sure." you mumbled, as Sevika made her way into the Last Drop, towards her personal room. The place was set up. Sevika took care of your requests and had a powerful spotlight installed in the center of the room, next to a backless chair and a work table, where the materials to make the mold were spread out and ready to be used. Sevika sat on the couch, lighting a cigarette while Silas undressed from the waist down. You focused on preparing the mixture, ignoring the blush on your cheeks at the rather peculiar and embarrassing situation you found yourself in.

"Robin asked about you." Silas said to Sevika. "You haven't visited her in a while..."

"Yeah, I've been busy." She replied gruffly. "With... business and such."

"You sure you haven't found another girl?" asked Silas. "It's quite odd to not see you around the brothel."

"I've been..." She paused, her gaze shifting briefly between you and the supplies on the table. "...busy. I don't have time for that right now." The truth was that, recently, her visits to the brothels of Zaun had decreased. The reason was sitting not ten feet away from her.

You gulped. "Please stand in front of the spotlight, legs apart." you said somewhat shyly, to which Silas complied with a rather pleasant and welcomed confidence. He certainly wasn't embarrassed, but you were. "Oh, I'm sorry to be so blunt but... you must be..."

"Hard?" Silas asked, to which you nodded.

Sevika chuckled, watching the interaction. She was amused by your attempts to be professional, trying your best to handle this with grace despite your embarrassment. "Don't apologize." He said, a hint of amusement in his voice. "It's a reasonable request."

You looked at Sevika with pink cheeks, before she turned to Silas in a non-serious tone. "Do you need magazines or something for the imagination, Silas?" she asked.

Silas chuckled, his eyes moving between Sevika and you. "No, I think I'll be alright." he said "But I wouldn't mind a little assistance..." He added, his eyes slowly roving over you, a smirk on his face.

Sevika's gaze was firm as she looked up at Silas, her voice cold. "Hands off, or I'll cut them off."

Sevika handed him the pills and a bottle of water. It only took a couple of minutes for Silas to be rock hard after taking them. Not that you found him appealing, but the man’s sexual aura stirred something inside you. However, you were here to work and Sevika would certainly disapprove of anyone putting their hands on you or you putting your hands on someone else. Sevika watched the whole process, focusing on the gentleness of your hands, the way you immersed the candidate's phallus in a container with the hypoallergenic plaster and the shy smile that were drawn on your lips while you took the time for it to harden. She thought about the privilege Silas was receiving, to have your complete and undivided attention on his body and to be touched by such angelic hands. Sevika grunted, pouring herself a whiskey.

"And... done." you said after the time passed. You removed the now hardened mold, satisfied with the result. You carefully placed it on the table, while Silas got dressed.

"I know I have a good cock, but I never thought I was worthy of being turned into a mold," the man joked.

Sevika chuckled, taking another puff of her cigarette. "Don't flatter yourself, sweetcheeks. We just needed someone qualified."

"Whatever you say, boss." He replied, his gaze shifting to you. "How long will it take for the final product?"

"Four to six days," you replied. "The material I'll be using is quite sensitive and capricious, plus incorporating the Shimmer system will take a couple of failed experiments," you explained, to which Silas laughed.

"Shimmer?" he asked, looking at Sevika. "You're planning on making a fucking Shimmer strap?"

Sevika leaned back, her expression cool. "Problem?"

"No, no problem. I'm just... curious. You never fail to surprise me, you know that?"

Silas gave her hand a squeeze. "I'm leaving now. Good luck with your little toy," Silas said, giving you a warm smile. You were focused on the mold when you and Sevika ended up alone in the room.

"You handled that well." She commented, her voice low and gruff.

"You think so?"

"Yeah, I do." She replied, exhaling a plume of smoke. "You managed to keep your focus and didn't let that hothead get to you."

“I know my job and what it’s worth,” you assured as you poured the second mixture into the cast to make the mold you’d be working with later. You were tired, however, this time of year people usually got their prosthetics renewed and everyone turned to you to do it. You’ve been using Shimmer again to keep the workflow going and it was starting to show.

Her sharp eye was trained to pick up on even the smallest details, and it was clear that you were exhausted. "When was the last time you slept a full night?

"Does it matter?" you inquired, focused on your work

"Of course it matters." She replied, her voice firm. "If you're exhausted, it will affect your work. I need you to be sharp, to be able to keep up."

"When's the last time you slept, really?"

"Mhm... two days ago?" you said, not sure. The truth is that Shimmer affected your perception of time and hunger, it was as effective as cocaine but more accessible, since it was Sevika who provided you with doses at a good price. However, she was regretting having done it, seeing you in this state.

"Are you kidding me? How many boosters have you taken in that time?"

"Don't remember." you shrugged. "I'm overflowed."

Sevika's jaw tensed as she watched your tired, sluggish state. The realization of what you'd been doing to yourself hit her like a ton of bricks. She put the cigarette away, standing up. "You're not going home. You're staying here." She said firmly, her voice leaving no room for argument. "I won't have you passing out from exhaustion."

"Excuse me?"

Her voice took on a softer tone, but her eyes held a hint of command. "I won't negotiate on this. It's for your own good."

"I have more comissions waiting for me at my workshop." you insisted. "And I can't afford to deliver them late."

She leaned forward, her voice dropping lower. "Those orders can wait. Your health cannot. I won't take no for an answer on this, understand?"

“How bold of you,” you scoff. “You’re asking me to rest when you’ve asked me for one of the strangest and most complex commissions this month.”

"And you took the commission, didn't you?" She retorted, her voice cold. "You agreed to it willingly. Don't act like I forced it upon you."

Before you could protest, Sevika's metal hand covered yours and she lowered herself to your level to say, leaving no room for argument: "You will quit work for today, I will get you dinner and you will go to sleep. Do you hear?"

You'd never seen Sevika this protective, this... bossy before. And honestly? It was kind of attractive. Her dominant aura was on full display, and the way she left no room for argument was both intimidating and thrilling.

"I hear," you managed to reply, your voice a breathless whisper.

Twenty minutes later, you popped a piece of turkey into your mouth, Sevika had brought you dinner and a glass of lemonade to go with your meal, as she watched you eat, she poured herself a cup of tea. She had had enough to drink for the day. By the second or third bite, you sensed the sudden comedown and felt nauseous. The shimmer was wearing off and Sevika was quick enough to kick the wastebasket towards you so you could throw up in it.

She moved quickly, resting a hand on your back as you wretched, attempting to provide some form of comfort. "Easy," she said quietly, rubbing slow, soothing circles on your back. "Just get it out."

The Shimmer comedown wasn't pleasant, it felt like all your energy was suddenly drained and replaced by an overwhelming feeling of malaise and despair. Your body was begging for more, and it was precisely that feeling that pushed people to buy more doses until they were in misery, but Sevika wouldn't allow it. Not when it comes to you. "It'll pass," she murmured quietly, her voice a soothing murmur. "Just breathe. It'll pass."

"Another one won't kill me..." you slurred with your head buried into the basket.

"That's where you're wrong," she replied, her voice firm. "It won't stop at just one. It never does. Especially not when you're already in this state."

Sevika straightened you up, handing you a bottle to rinse your mouth out. She then slid the plate over to you. "Eat."

"I don't..."

"I know you don't feel like it." She admitted, her voice softer now, "but you need to eat something. You haven't been taking proper care of yourself, and it shows."

You forced yourself to eat and drink the lemonade. Soon enough you were lying on the soft sofa in the room. Its walls were dark and seemed stained by the passing of time and cigarette smoke, it was lit by lamps in red and mustard tones. In the distance was the betting table, next to you the minibar and in front of you, sitting on a chair, Sevika was watching you. The withdrawal effect had already worn off, now you were just very sleepy.

"Are you feeling any better?"

"I'm... I wanna sleep." you slurred.

She took another puff of her cigarette, tapping the ash into the ashtray beside her. "Close your eyes. Sleep."

You clossed your eyes, the smell of the cigarette entering your nostrils. "You shouldn't smoke that much." you mumbled.

"Oh, really?" She replied, a hint of playful sarcasm in her voice. "And who's gonna stop me?" She took another long puff of her cigarette, the smoke wafting towards you, the scent musky and alluring. "You, perhaps?"

"I don't have any power over you." you admitted.

"No, you don't." She agreed, her expression softening slightly. "But," she mused quietly, her voice barely above a whisper, "sometimes, I wish you did."

You didn't know what to make of that, but you understood that Sevika wasn't joking. You felt a hand on your forehead, Sevika checking if you were feverish or cold, and luckily for you, you were fine. You shifted on the couch, before your curiosity got the better of you. "Silas said you've barely been to the brothel lately..."

"Are you concerned for my wellbeing?" She asked, her voice laced with a hint of sarcasm. "Or are you simply curious?"

"You're a woman of habits and you're missing that one."

"Yes, I suppose I am a woman of habits." She leaned back in her chair, her eyes still fixed on you. "And that one habit in particular... I've been avoiding it."

"Why?"

"It's... not as satisfying as it once was." She replied, her voice quiet, almost lost. "The same faces, the same encounters, the same routines. It's all... so hollow, now. Empty. Meaningless."

Suddenly you felt that the commission you're working on was meaningless. "Then why the hell am I fabricating a strap for you?" you asked with sleepy amusement.

"What do you mean 'why'?" She retorted, her tone sharp. "Because I asked you to, that's why."

"But you're saying you don't like to attend the brothel anymore." you inisisted. "Who will you use it with then?"

"I'll use it with whoever I damn well please," she continued, her tone growing sharper, "and it's none of your business who that is."

You noticed her tone change, she was closing up and it was best not to probe further. Not with Sevika. You simply nodded, closing your eyes against the potent spell of Shimmer's downturn and the days and days of work taking its toll on your body.

You felt her scent close by, a warm hand on your forehead and then tracing circles on your hair. You thought you were dreaming, or it was just the Shimmer messing with your mind, but you felt like you were in some kind of enchantment with those fingers massaging your scalp and the weight of her body next to you on the couch. "Get some sleep," she said quietly, her voice gentle. "I'll be here when you wake up."

To be continued...

taglist: @lez-zuha @amoraeu @nikaachuuuu @furrytaesss @elliecoochieeater @n-noctiss @emmanetalias

[persicipen]

𑑛 “KEEP AN EYE ON ME” ﾉ WRIOTHESLEY. GENSHIN IMPACT

performer gn reader ﾉ words 1.0k ᯽ bodyguard wriothesley. reader goes on stage — no specifics, so technically it’s still canon au and could be a singer, a dancer, an idol. very suggestive with explicit language but it’s only teased once ﾉ rewritten (old request) because i saw mooties talking about this :3 ᯽ SUGGESTIVE CONTENT ﾉ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT ᯽

Wriothesley shifts nervously from one leg to another, trying to shake off the itch of an unspecified feeling. Hand brushing through the hair, hoping to gather back his thoughts just like the matted greying strands, but to no avail. You’re not leaving his head, your mirrored silhouette sparkling in his silver eyes.

The way you move, hips swinging to the side and down just as the music gets low, makes him gulp down and blink. He has to make sure he’s not imagining it, for it feels too good to be true.

Then, with a pop, you break out of your routine, the special dance you had trained repeatedly in secret exclusively to surprise the crowd tonight, all while never going against the melody nor losing the perfect rhythm. He’s amazed by your ability to become one with the sound, something he could only dream about.

He’s just here to observe you, but other than that — any possible interruptions or unpleasant events, such as nagging fans or worse. Standing still, silent, and leaning on the wall behind the scene where he can get just a glimpse of the grand performance; he’s cautious. Only pretending to be relaxed, a small part of him is enchanted and enjoying your view while the rest is ready to act. Just in case. He never wishes for anything to happen. The less work there is for him to do, the better for everyone around him.

Yet he lets his mind wander to what-ifs. His fingers tap lightly against the metal buckle of his pants, playing with the leather strap on the side of his thigh. How would you move to a slower song? Does your body still find harmony with this kind of cadence too?

Of course, it does. It has to.

You’re so hardworking, there’s probably nothing you wouldn’t be able to do. But currently in promotion are more dynamic performances, and you have to bounce across the stage, elegant and beautiful like the sight of a deer in the forest — almost magical if not for the heavy instruments buzzing through all the surfaces.

Despite everything, the shine in your eyes and the curve of your smile remain unmoving as ever. You’re captivating, stealing hearts and bringing people to tears of joy. You’re a star that gives them all the happiness they need.

And he’s no different. He sees you as the perfect being. It doesn’t matter if it’s the persona you use on the stage or the one that becomes you when you slump against him after every exhausting performance, mumbling how proud you feel and ranting about the soreness of your body, and other stuff like that. Truly, just incoherent babbling — but he loves to hear everything, making sure at the same time that you two won’t get caught by any pair of prying eyes.

(He always thinks about that, so you don’t have to.)

As the mood slightly changes, the tunes mellow down. Not as much as Wriothesley would love to hear, that would be too good — and you bend down on your knees as you prepare for the next piece. It’s the one he called the sexy one when you were sharing the plan with him a few weeks ago, something you giggled away and shushed him immediately, not wanting to agree out loud.

But it was true. And the live dance was no better.

So now he has to endure watching you twirl on your toes, arching your back, sliding your hands along the curves of your body, all that sensual shit that drives him crazy and yet— and yet he cannot do anything about it, just taking the spectacle as it is, so thrilled to be able to see it from a different perspective.

It’s almost burning, this feeling inside, as his thoughts involuntarily drift off towards lustful imagination. Could it be possible to ask you to do the same move that you just did, but right in front of him? Or maybe even on his lap, the one where you crouch down innocently just to act provocatively once again?

Damn, that would be so hot. He has to clench his fist to calm down and return to the present moment.

When you at last walk offstage after another successful performance, your footsteps sound strangely satisfying as they click-clack down the corridor. There is no doubt about the fatigue and thirst in your expression, yet he has a feeling that you wouldn’t ask for a break aside from a quick few minutes to cool down and change your outfit.

Sweat glistens on your skin, sticking to your hair, making you sparkle in the harsh lights of the changing room. You’re beautiful like that; it’s the sweat of success and because you’re doing something you love. It’s not the same sweat when you stress over something or get sick and have to stay wrapped in hot blankets to fight off the illness.

Nonetheless, it feels nasty, so you quickly grab a towel and hug it closely, tapping gently on your face so as not to ruin your makeup. The cool and soft fabric works wonders on your excited body.

You tell the others it’s just a quick trip to the bathroom, while in reality, you glance towards your bodyguard, and that’s all he needs to know. He thinks that if you could only give him even a light kiss on the cheek, that would be enough, that would make him happy and fill him with a new surge of motivation. Oh, that would be so great.

But everything is different…

As soon as there are just the two of you, he pulls you close, failing to control his rapturing emotions. No, of course, he will not do anything stupid now — you only have a minute or so for him, but he wished for it to be untrue. His lips barely graze against your temple, leaving a tender peck there; you hear his low and velvety voice whisper right into your ear some words.

“I’m gonna fuck you so hard later tonight…”

And that’s the only praise that makes you genuinely know that you did exceptionally well on the stage.

[genderkoolaid]

in what way, if any, do you think that indulging kinks is different than making jokes as far as emplanting/reinforcing ideas in the mind? do you think that being a sexual sadist makes you more permissive of nonconsensual violence?genuine question, feel free to ignore or answer privately if this is too thorny.

OKAY I have tried to write this 4 times now here we go!!!! This time it will NOT get deleted!!!!!!!!

This is a really good + important question so I am glad you asked! To me, it comes down to context and critical self-reflection.

Kink, done properly, occurs in a very specific and frank context. You discuss what a scene will look like beforehand, and then you discuss what happened and each person's experiences afterward. Proper kink requires blatant discussions of what is wanted and what is to be avoided, and the consent of all parties is what helps create this context.

Humor, on the other hand, tends to live in a hazy grey area between truth and lies. We like to think that because jokes are jokes, this means they are completely detached from our world. But humor has a social function. It helps bring people together, as well as delineate divisions. And it also helps us dip a toe into a certain feeling without having to discuss the feeling itself.

To give an example, let's talk about bees and wasps.

Say there is a person named A. A generally thinks of themself as liking animals and the natural world. They are against climate change and pro-biodiversity, although they don't really know a ton about these topics. They see people making jokes about wasps vs. bees: bees are sweet pollinators just trying to enjoy the summer, while wasps are angry assholes who will fuck your wife. A finds these jokes funny, especially having learned about how important bees are but having always been afraid of wasps. A also begins making jokes about how wasps have no purpose, they just exist to ruin your day, and should be killed. A finds themself joking about how we should really just kill off all wasps, since they are evil and worthless creatures. When A sees a wasp, they feel nothing but fear and the desire to kill it painfully. If they hear about something is causing mass death amongst wasps, they think its probably a net positive for everyone.

A was clearly biased against wasps from the beginning, which isn't really their fault; wasps can be scary and hurtful! The jokes seem to reaffirm their feelings as natural, socially valid, and even funny. But as I'm sure many of my followers know, wasps ARE pollinators and are quite important to the environment, as well as having the inherent worth that all creatures do. It's rather contradictory for A to both say they value biodiversity, while also devaluing an entire group of creatures and being okay with, or even advocating for, their extinction.

It is fully possible for A to dislike wasps, AND value biodiversity. The problem is that A does not really know how to apply their values to the world and their actions. They generally have beliefs, but those beliefs do not form a bedrock they can reference. Their values and their actions are not in conversation.

To take it back to what you were discussing: properly done kink always involves conversation between values and actions. The values are consent, risk-aware safety, and mutual pleasure/satisfaction/positive experiences. Knowing these values and what they mean, the people involved can talk about what they want to do and how those actions will relate to those values. When a sadist is hitting someone in a scene, they know that this is happening because they have created a context in which that action aligns with their values. And if someone does find that they are being shaped negatively by kink experiences, they can recognize that and choose to stop.

I believe there is a problem with people not truly knowing what they believe or value, and/or not truly knowing how their beliefs/values interact with the world and their actions. And when you combine that with the ambiguity of jokes, the way we are encouraged to see jokes as something separated from the "real world," and the way they can encourage people to follow their gut feelings and reaffirm them as socially valid and true, you get. well. bad times! radicalization! Oops All Assholes!

I just made a post that was kind of an example of this. I watched Megan Thee Stallion's documentary and joked about how she should be allowed to kill indiscriminately. When I think about making those kinds of jokes, I am keeping in mind:

Killing individuals doesn't solve systemic issues

I value transformative justice over punitive justice

I generally avoid making these- humourously communicating my anger at injustice into calls for violence- because I am conscious that jokes aren't "just jokes." This doesn't mean I NEVER do it. It's not, like, radioactive. Making a joke won't corrupt me a la the One Ring. But I make a choice to steer myself away from that kind of humor. Because I don't want to create that kind of thought pattern; because I am being conscious of the distinction between feeling and value, of catharsis and justice; because I don't want to connect with others on the basis of a belief I don't actually hold and am just putting on to express frustration; and because, in the case of other jokes, regardless of their impact on ME, they can still hurt other people. Even if you feel like you can make small dick jokes and still genuinely believe body-shaming is bad… if your jokes still have the impact of body-shaming people, then your values aren't really having an impact on your actions, at which point they are meaningless.

[jejewonster]

Tag, You're It.

he chased me and he wouldn't stop. tag, you're it 𖥔. ˖ ࣪𓂃 

⊹ ִ۪ ֗ ּ ۫ ִ  pairing: l.sm x f!reader ⊹ ִ۪ ֗ ּ ۫ ִ  genre: smut, dubcon (MDNI 18+ only)

⊹ ִ۪ ֗ ּ ۫ ִ  wc: 3,090

— seokmin abhors your clear distaste for him. and he’ll do just about anything to change that. ⊹ ִ۪ ֗ ּ ۫ ִ  smut tags & warnings: DUBCON, somnophilia, deflowering, corruption kink, oral (reader), creampie, multiple positions, mating press. slightly yandere!seokmin, reader is a lightweight and gets drunk easily. narcisstic!seokmin, reader is 'drugged’ by seokmin, if i have missed any warnings please let me know. ⊹ ִ۪ ֗ ּ ۫ ִ  a/n: read my guidelines. please do not take these warnings lightly. don't like, don't read, and feel free to block me if this isn't your cup of tea. thank u to @sunniques for beta-reading ♡.

seokmin has spent his life playing the good boy role, hiding behind the facade of someone well-liked, kind, and attentive. everyone knows him for his charming persona, everyone is in love with him. 

except you. 

he didn’t understand your clear disdain for him. you had always done everything in your power to avoid him. the more you ran away, the more it intrigued him. 

the first time he laid his eyes on you, he wasn’t sure what to think. you were obviously attractive and a little shy, but your beauty was not something that could be described so simply. 

the more he tried to interact with you, to get to know you the more you pushed him away. leaving group conversations mid-sentence, sitting on the opposite side of the lecture hall… you were too obvious. 

seokmin hates when he cannot control how people perceive him. he needs to fulfill the expectations he had set: the perfect man. and if you didn’t fall for it, then he would just have to take matters into his own hands. 

…

his plan is simple— or at least simple enough for him to execute without getting caught. 

it’s the end of midterms, and your classmate somehow was able to convince you to join in on the group hangout. sat in the very corner of the booth, you looked around with eyes reminiscent of a newborn fawn. wide-eyed and just so lost. 

seokmin can help with that. 

“hey, anyone down to do a round of shots?” he asks the group, looking around to find everyone humming in agreement. 

boring holes into your figure, he sees that you’re the only one who seems reluctant to take a drink. well, seokmin can’t have that. 

you were quite the people pleaser, something he found out through his observations. it can’t be that hard to get you to at least take one shot. 

“are you not drinking?” your only acquaintance out of the group asks. 

turning to look at her, you shrug your shoulders. 

you didn’t have a ride home tonight, but you didn’t live too far. if you somehow find a way to stay sober, it won’t be too hard to slip out without anyone noticing. 

“i think i’ll pass, gotta walk home later,” your voice is meek, but your friend can’t help but frown. 

she shakes your shoulder as if attempting to pull you out of a trance. 

“c’mon! just one? we’re all here to celebrate!” she continues to push. 

filled with uncertainty, you reluctantly agree to her demands. it might be the only way she shuts up. 

sighing, you give in. “fine. just one. i’m too much of a lightweight though, so after that, i’m done.” 

a cheer erupts from her mouth, satisfied in being able to convince you to “let loose” for once. 

you don’t even know how you even got here in the first place. and you definitely didn’t think seokmin would be joining either. but now that you’re sitting there, in the corner of the booth, you know there’s no way to escape him now. 

it’s not that you hated him. god, no. you just had a bad feeling about his persona. it was almost like he was too nice. you weren’t sure what had your intuition swaying the moment you laid your eyes on him, but you simply can’t shake the eerie feeling that he gives off. 

“shots are here!” seokmin announces, handing everyone a glass. his charming smile practically blinds you, but anyone who isn’t entranced by him can see the dark energy behind his gaze. 

the way his smile never reaches his eyes, no matter how hard he tries. it had shivers running down your spine. who is the real lee seokmin? 

by the time there’s one shot remaining, your eyes meet. heartbeat drumming incessantly in your chest, you watch as his eyes piece through your very being. 

“you gonna take it?” he asks you. 

the breath in your throat is caught. this is probably the first time he’s ever spoken directly to you, and it has you shifting uncomfortably in your seat. 

“u-uh sure? why not?” you chuckle nervously before grabbing the glass out of his hand. 

placing the rim of the shot glass to your lips, you swallow the alcohol without a second thought. seokmin’s eyes burn into your soul as you swallow every last drop. you weren’t sure why he was observing you so intensely, but you tried your best not to think too much about it. 

… 

an hour passes and seokmin continues to keep his undivided attention on you. the shot glass he gave you was stronger than the rest, and he could only hope that’s all he needed to do to get you pliant for him. 

your eyes are glossed over, staring into the distance. even in a drunken state you’re still so quiet. he can only wonder how loud you might get once he gets the chance to fuck you. 

“you doing okay?” seokmin asks as he slips into the empty space beside you. 

everyone else at your table is too drunk or too busy to even pay attention to either you or seokmin. he can’t help but congratulate himself inside his mind, everything always works out in his favour. 

“yeah, just feeling tired. i-i think i should go home,” you mumble. 

exiting through the other side of the booth, the side seokmin wasn’t sitting on, you tumble out of the cramped space with clumsy steps. 

you’re on the verge of falling over, so seokmin quickly steadies you, grabbing your waist with lightning speed. the blush on your cheeks is obvious, both from embarrassment and the little alcohol you had taken. 

his face inches towards yours, the same ominous smile on his lips. 

“let me give you a ride. it’s not safe to walk alone this late at night.” 

… 

seokmin snatches the keys from your bag, your body slumped against his side as he unlocks your front door. with ragged breaths against his neck,  his arm is wrapped tightly around your waist. 

the alcohol is doing wonders. 

you were practically in and out of consciousness. seokmin had no idea it would have this much of an effect on you. Even though you did seem like a lightweight, he was assuming you were able to take more than one shot. obviously, his assumptions were very wrong. 

the effects of the alcohol should be wearing off soon, but that didn’t matter to seokmin anymore. he had you in his clutches and he has no plans to let you go. 

without wasting another second, he makes his way to your bedroom. opening and closing each door until he’s found your safe space. 

the last door down the hall by the bathroom. your room is cute, typical for someone of your age. several manga line the shelves of your bookcase, but he has no interest in indulging in your hobbies. not when you look absolutely ravishing under the moonlight that peeks through your curtains. 

your eyes are closed as you snuggle into his side. he can feel you twitch every so often, breaths shallow and warm. 

laying you onto your mattress, seokmin doesn’t waste any more of his time. his cock straining against his pants at the very thought of you taking him in every possible way that he’s been imagining. 

you flip onto the bed, your brows furrowing from all the sudden movement, but your eyes stay shut despite all the commotion. seokmin is unbelievably hard now, to the point his cock pulses at the sight of you. 

the sinister smile on his face intensifies, staring down at you as you stir in your drunken state. laying there, you stir in your vulnerability like a mere fawn waiting to be hunted like prey. everything had fallen into place so easily, it’s almost like you were destined to get your cunt fucked by him. 

seokmin’s hands roam your body with deliberate fervour, squeezing your thighs till they quiver open ever so slightly. his nails imprint your skin with half-moon-shaped marks. how did he get so lucky?

the whimper you let out resonates in his eardrums, clearly the drink he gave you was just enough that you’re at least reacting to his touch. 

“bet you taste like a fucking dream,” seokmin whispers. 

whether you register his words at all doesn’t matter to him. he just wants you as his little cock sleeve. to fuck, to cum into, everything. seokmin fantasizes about a time when you’ve become so pliant to his wishes, bouncing on his cock and taking everything he gives you. 

his nose trails along your inner thigh, inhaling your scent until he’s face to face with the wet patch staining the cloth of your lacy thong. only a complete slut would be turned on over something so simple. with a deep inhale, he gets one last whiff of your sweet nectar before he dives in. 

tearing your panties with calculated movements, seokmin mouths at your pussy, making out with the folds of your delicious cunt till your slick drips from his chin. the juices that flow from your hole show just how much you truly are enjoying this. how could you not? seokmin is the perfect guy for you. 

a little shove and you’ve fallen right into his trap. 

there’s one hand gripping at your thigh, while the other starts to ascend to the peak between your legs. his fingers prod at your entrance, sticking two digits in before curling them inside you. seokmin groans against your skin, the squelches that emit from you cause his cock to twitch even more than before.

a few seconds pass until seokmin is satisfied with the defilement of your virgin hole. agile fingers crawl towards the notches in his belt, unbuckling the leather from his waist until his pants plop towards the hardwood. 

as if on cue, your eyes snap open, although that's the least of seokmin’s worries. if anything, your sudden consciousness has turned his night into a great one. 

“oh. you’re awake,” he grins down at your half-naked body, tongue shooting out to lick his lips. 

“w-what are you doing here?” your voice wavers, eyes wide and filled with fear. your thighs clamp shut as you feel the cool breeze gust against your bare pussy.  

seokmin chuckles, his figure brooding over your defenceless body, cock exposed, long and standing proud; ready for you to take without a complaint. one of his large palms grazes against your knees until they force your legs open again. 

“you invited me here.” 

“no? i would never…” you trail off, but the past few hours were all a blur. 

as you try to recall this past night, your memory falls short. the last thing that arises from your mind is the cold rim of a shot glass brushing against your lips. 

your worst nightmare doesn’t dare speak, waiting for you to finally realize that situation you’ve been put in. parallel to a debilitated sheep in the hands of a ravenous wolf, you’re left to die in his hands. 

fuck everyone. fuck your classmate for peer pressuring you to drink that damn shot, and especially fuck seokmin for taking advantage of you. 

“fuck you,” you spit out, but your mind is still swimming. the alcohol had affected you more than you’d like. 

the thought of even trying to defend yourself only leaves you feeling sick. dazed and confused, you lie beneath him in utter despair. 

“you will, and just know i’ll make it worth your while,” seokmin leans down, lips sweeping over yours. “you’re quite the lightweight. couldn’t even take a second shot before you’re begging me to take you home.” 

the pulse in your veins intensifies, the heartbeat drumming within your chest could probably pierce your flesh till blood splatters against your torso. 

“be a good girl, yeah? your pussy is already soaking,” seokmin whispers in your ear, licking right underneath it sensually. 

your breath hitches and he smiles against your neck. his hands grip your thighs once more, his tip prodding against your folds. your body is on fire, it shouldn’t feel this good. 

“w-wait,” you whimper. 

“i think i’ve waited long enough, you’re already prepped, i made sure.” seokmin grumbles before leaning back to sheath his hard cock inside you. 

it all happens without a second to spare; you’re completely filled. the hilt of his dick presses against your pelvis, and seokmin groans into your ear. his eyes roll back as he becomes suffocated in your heat. rutting against you, he relishes in the way your walls squeeze him. nothing beats an untouched pussy waiting to be stuffed to the brim. 

“you’re gonna cut my dick off, that’s how tight you are,” seokmin grunts. 

the palms of his hands slide to the underside of your thighs, forcing your legs flush against your chest. 

“p-please. i don’t want this,” you beg, tears threatening to spill from your eyes. 

seokmin doesn’t even acknowledge your useless pleas. instead, he continues to ram his length into you, and you can’t ignore the pleasure that comes along with his malicious undoing. 

your stomach caves in as he trails kisses along your neck. this shouldn’t be happening, especially to you, but as he continues to fuck you, your mind begins to reel. this shouldn’t feel good, but there’s something about the way his balls smack against your ass that leaves you panting. 

“s-seokmin, fuck, i can’t,” you purse your lips, but your attempts to stay silent fail. 

“keep talking, baby, wanna hear you beg for it,” seokmin shudders. every time he speaks, your pussy clenches even harder. the juices that coat his dick and the snap of his hips fill his ears like a symphony. 

“i don't want this, please,” but your moans say otherwise. 

“pretending you don’t want me to fuck you just makes my cock harder,” he chuckles while releasing you from his hold. 

he sits down on your bed before forcing you onto his lap. lining himself up with your entrance, he tightens his hold on your hips before bouncing you on his cock. you squeak at the new position, not prepared to have him force you into even more pleasure. 

“i-i can’t,” you cry out, hiding your head in the dip of his shoulder. 

“you talk a lot for someone who’s absolutely soaking,” he jeers, slapping your ass till your hole sucks him in entirely, “you’re dripping on me, too. tell me, are you secretly enjoying this?” 

you choke out a pathetic ‘no’ but seokmin doesn’t believe it. instead, he lifts the sweater covering your chest until you’re completely naked. the sudden temperature change has your nipples pebbling over in seconds. letting go of your hips, he swallows your left tit, tongue swirling against the erect bud. 

as he sucks on your left boob, he keeps his other hand in place, groping the meat of your ass till hand marks litter your skin. 

your mind is still glazed over— from the alcohol or the sheer pleasure you’re receiving, you’re unsure at this point. but something deep within you forces you to continue bouncing on his lap. the tip of his cock poking at your cervix and the pain of his girth bruises your pussy, but the knot in your stomach is starting to unravel. 

“seokmin, please, it’s too much,” you whimper once again, breath hot against his neck. 

“you feeling tired, princess?” his tone is filled with faux concern. 

seokmin is brimming with satisfaction. not only does he have you in his clutches, but you’re clearly succumbing to the undeniable spark of lust between you. 

“just make the feeling go away, feels like ‘m gonna pee,” you cry, unsure of whether you should be embarrassed by how much you’re secretly enjoying the way his dick is piercing you or the fact that you can’t stop the unusual build-up in your stomach. 

“you wanna cum for me, baby? it’s okay, just let it go,” unlatching from your tits, he smirks before capturing your lips into a zealous lip lock. 

the bed creaks beneath the two of you, the mattress moving up and down as your hips continue to hump against his member. 

“it feels good,” you sigh as you pull away from his plush lips. 

there’s regret in your decision to unveil your true feelings, but it has become so hard to ignore. 

seokmin is glowing with triumph, observing the way your lidded eyes exude with desire. pants leave your mouth, the redness from your cheeks trickling down to your neck. he can’t let go of you after this. he won't. 

“the faster you go, the faster this is over,” he informs you, hoping it will coerce you into riding him like a bitch in heat. 

“o-okay, i’ll try,” your voice wobbles, your hands moving to his shoulders to ground yourself. 

lifting yourself up, you slam back down onto his cock. seokmin’s brows are strewn as he attempts to savour the feeling of your pussy rubbing against his length. then you speed up, speeding up your movements until the sounds of skin and skin echo within your bedroom. 

“f-fuck, i’m gonna cum,” seokmin’s voice strains, his dick starts to twitch within your velvety cunt. 

you moan out, your eyes screwed shut. the funny feeling in your stomach snaps like a strained rubber band. the abnormal sensation flows throughout your limbs, but it’s so satisfying at the same time. 

then it comes, the spurt of semen filling your hole. he holds you tight against him as his hips stutter, the warm liquid hitting your walls until you're completely stuffed. 

you’re panting against his muscular chest, breath ragged while sweat drips from your forehead. realization hits you seconds later and you’re jumping off seokmin’s lap. 

“you need to go,” you mutter, not able to meet his eyes. 

the clothes are scattered on the floor and you make haste as you pluck your sweater near the foot of your bed. it shouldn’t matter that it felt good to have him inside you, but the thought of him fucking you against can’t help cross your mind. 

“i could go. but why should i? that pussy of yours is mine now,” seokmin shrugs nonchalantly before standing from the bed to dress himself. 

a sense of dread wreaks havoc inside you, your heart plummeting to the floor. this whole situation has you feeling powerless, but you can’t deny the spark that seokmin had lit inside you. 

“expect me to come over when i need my dick sucked, okay?” 

[crescenthistory]

I was reading your Animagus Reader fics and absolutely loved them so I had a little idea/request.

Regulus x Animagus!Reader where she is in her animagus form and she falls asleep in the library. It's already night and people are going to bed and so Barty wonders into the library and finds cat animagus reader, asleep and so bc he loves "his" treasure so much, he doesn't wake her up(surprisingly) and takes her back to his dorm where Regulus. Because Regulus is a spectacular boyfriend, he immediately recognizes his wonderful girlfriends animagus form and questions Barty why he has her. It's up to you how Barty responds and the entire conversation but, at some point Regulus asks for Barty to hand over reader to him and starts to whines and complains about how Regulus always hogs reader and he barely gets time with her, etc but, he even goes as far to say that he wants to cuddle with reader tonight but, Regulus gets her anyway(she is purring through this entire interaction).

Barty is also the type of friend I feel like who is cooing at her through this entire process even though she is asleep and can't hear it.

babe, i absolutely ADORE your vision for bsf!barty and his dynamic with regulus and reader. i wholeheartedly agree with the characterisation. i literally just expanded this exact take into a drabble, hope you enjoy mwah<3

Words: 1.5k

Warnings: fem!reader, use of y/n, barty pov, bsf!barty intended to be platonic but can be read ambiguously for both reader and regulus, implied background rosekiller, platonic and romantic physical affection, you're asleep through this whole fic lol, an appearance of pyro!barty

Note: as always, this is whiskers, the cat!animagus!reader i have written several fics for, starting with this one

Barty was bored. Endlessly so.

Evan and Pandora were off in Ravenclaw cooking up some potion Barty was strictly instructed to stay the hells away from. Regulus was off reading some stupid bloody paperback that Barty could swear he had seen him read before yet somehow chose to prioritise above him. And you, his favourite person, had not been seen or heard from for the past few hours. Probably off doing some studying like the swot you are, much to his chagrin. 

Barty was bored and his friends were boring.

What else could he do but go skipping down hallways until he finds something to do, then?

He had made it all the way through half of the library without finding any intriguing stimuli and he was growing jittery. With lanky fingers, he fished his muggle lighter out of his pocket and began flickering with it as he walked, eyes scanning the shelves.

There was a giddy itch rushing through him as he flicked the lighter on and off, on and off, the smell of it filling his nostrils familiarily.

Until his jumping gaze suddenly zeroed in on the one figure in the Hogwarts library that might have distracted him – a perfect treasure lying peacefully curled up on a coffee table between some settees. Whiskers, in all her white and grey fluffy glory, fast asleep with the cutest crinkled nose he could have imagined.

“There you are, kitten,” Barty cooed as his long legs sprung to action, marching towards your sleeping form. In the nearly abandoned library, he did his best to remain quiet and not wake you. He crouched in front of the table so his face was level with yours and an instinctive smile spread across his lips, one you had called soft once despite his many denials.

He reached out his right hand to scratch gently against your cheek in that spot that always had you purring, his messy stick and poke tattoos melting perfectly into your patterned fur. You heaved a dreamy sigh, nuzzling your face against Barty’s touch, still fast asleep.

“What’re you doing here, hm?” he asked despite knowing he could get no answer lest he wake you – something he refused to do.

Barty threw a quick glance to one of the many clocks scattered across the library, seeing that curfew was steadily nearing. When he went scouring for something to quell his itches, missing curfew was part of the point, but he knew that for you, this was likely a mistake. Judging by the notes strewn around you and your backpack still laying on a chair behind you that seemed to have been housing someone just a few minutes ago, you had not intended to fall asleep here. 

And even if Barty’s friends were boring, he did love the suckers, so–

“Alright, kitten, time to go home.” 

With the wave of his wand, he gathered all your belongings back into your backpack and easily slid it over his shoulders. Wearing none of the smugness one might have expected of Barty in this situation – just a small, indulging smile – Barty scooped you up into his arms. He quickly navigated your form from the table to slumping against his chest, trying to minimise the amount of movement you were subjected to, all the while making sweet noises to keep your mind tethered to its dreams.

Your feline face twitched a little, but required little more than his soothing voice and warm skin to fall back into your rest. 

Barty took a quick spin around to check if he had everything and once he was satisfied, he dropped a featherlight kiss in between your ears. “Come now, you absolute nerd. The library is no place to sleep.”

In contrast to his skipping and twirling from earlier, Barty stalked steadily through the hallways as he made his way down to the dungeons, only ever occasionally swaying you in his arms if you began to stir. He opened doors with wandless magic, at last grateful for Dorcas hounding him about practicing it so much – “you never know when you’ll need it, B” she had all but growled at him. Yeah, Cas, like when our feline friend is simply too cute to be awoken to the horrible sight of the sodding library.

Still, he was Barty Crouch Junior, so he made the stairs up to the boys’ dorm two at a time, an entirely new excitement growing in him at the thought of you sleeping over – and getting to rub his unearthed treasure in Regulus’ face.

The door opened with a creak at the flick of Barty’s wrist, and as he toed it open with his scratched up uniform shoes, Regulus’ voice already sounded through the room. “Barty? Have you seen Y/N?”

Barty turned around to shoulder the door open instead, so that his back was towards Regulus under the preface of closing the door behind him. “Oh yeah, I actually saw she found herself a new bloke. Much better looking.”

By the time he turned around with a flourish – cradling you even closer to his chest to ensure you weren’t rattled by his antics – Regulus was staring at him with a deadpan that suggested he already knew this new bloke had to be Barty.

“Ha ha,” Regulus said dryly, but his expression quickly softened when his eyes landed upon your sleeping self.

He had been laid out on his bed with his head propped up by pillows, his legs crossed by the ankles and his favourite paperback resting on his stomach, but he placed it face-down on his bedsheets in favour of sitting on the edge of his bed, staring at you with a smile.

“Hi, amour. Fell asleep again?” His voice was so sweet that Barty simply had to convey his nausea through faux puking.

“She fell asleep and is still asleep thank you very much, so don’t you dare wake her with your questions,” Barty reprimanded in a low voice before turning his attention back to you. Swaying you ever so slightly, he nuzzled his face against yours, causing you to purr loudly in instinctive response. “Aren’t you the cutest when you sleep, huh kitten?” He cooed, laying it on extra thick.

“Yeah yeah, and I suppose you’re the hero for fetching her.” Regulus rolled his eyes, walking up to stand in front of Barty. He reached out a finger to stroke across your face, but Barty backed away before he could.

“Precisely,” he said with mock arrogance. “I’m the hero, so I get to cuddle with the cute cat.”

“The cute cat is my girlfriend, Junior,” Regulus drawled. “And I’ve missed her. So hand her over.”

Barty looked him up and down, grin growing disturbingly. “No. I don’t think I will. You, Black, hog her too much. Time for you to share.”

Before Regulus could reach out and catch him, Barty sidestepped the curly-haired boy and went to settle down on his own bed. Regulus huffed and stalked after him, but Barty managed to toe off his shoes and slip beneath his blankets still with you in his arms.

“Barty, you cannot be serious,” Regulus all but whined.

“No, that’s your brother.” If Regulus had rolled his eyes harder, Barty was sure they would have popped out. “I’ve missed her too and finder’s keepers. So if you’re that desperate to spend time with her, then get in.”

Barty and Evan had magically widened their beds years ago to have more comfortable sleepovers, and seeing as their third was still out with his twin sister, there was ample space for Regulus to be able to slip in beside Barty.

The other boy huffed, looking around the room as if searching for a final form of leverage. When he came up empty, he scowled at Barty before all but ripping the blankets back. “I hate you, you know.”

Barty hummed as if he couldn’t be more in agreement all the while shimmying close against Regulus once he got comfortable. 

You shifted in Barty’s arms so that your hind legs and tail curled around Regulus’ upper arm, drawing an immediate cooing sound from him that made Barty giggle. Regulus couldn’t even deign to shove his best friend for his disrespect, his grey irises seemingly glued to you. Every movement of your whiskers, the steady rise and fall of your chest, the warmth seeming to emanate off of you.

“She was in the library?” Regulus asked in a quiet voice, lithe fingers grazing up and down your sides.

“Mhm, on top of that table she likes to sit by. Overstudied, I’m sure. You two swots deserve each other.”

Regulus shook his head with a smile, leaning his weight further against Barty’s side so that he could press kisses to your hind paws. Barty was grinning down at the two of you, happy for his friends and elated at having his way.

“No. None of us deserve her.” Regulus said it matter-of-factly. At the very same time you yawned and stretched burying your head into the material of Barty’s jumper, making him coo down at you lovingly, every bit as nauseating as he accused Regulus of being.

“For once I agree with you, my sweet Reggie.”

[canmom]

one of the people i most looked up to when i was first transing has, many years later, pretty hard disidentified with words like 'trans woman', 'transfem' and so on. they still write to an audience of mostly dolls, but they're doing some other gender thing now, and tend not to like being put in the trans woman/transfem box.

chewing on this and other things. fundamentally I don't think gender is real. I have called it an egregore, and that still seems apt. and yet, words like 'trans', 'autistic' and so on are a pretty powerful correlate with the sort of person I tend to vibe with.

transing isn't revealing some inner girl essence. the forces that produce a trans woman when enacted on the eager-to-reshape-itself human brain don't necessarily only produce trannies: it is one of a number of moves available to you.

it is, however, a really big play in the game. given how ludicrously much gender infects every social interaction, going off-script in a big way is going to affect your psychology hugely. doing that activates the feedback loops, the self-exciting instability, a set of rituals let you become something more 'real', or perhaps more precisely, something you have actively defined. the unpredictable outcome of that process is both the entire point and not the point at all.

rachel pollack spoke of transing in terms of religious ecstasy. "I would argue that transsexuality arises from a passion so powerful that it transcends issues of happiness. The word passion originally meant suffering, not pleasure."

so having made a declaration like, i am this sort of creature, you break everything down and start to rebuild. you go on to take actions to affirm it, or even simply build an inner, secret core, and doing this - physically, socially - transforms the resonances of your thinking.

we have constructed many rituals to make the declaration of transness more definite. a lot of them will affect your sensory experience: the immediate effect of hrt on how your skin responds to touch is surely one of the great virtues. take surgery, for example - do you need to get your penis turned inside out? well: the drama of making a drastic alteration to your body, and the sheer difficulty of getting it, makes it an especially powerful ritual. but it's not the only way to go. indeed, most girls I know haven't done it (whether or not they want to), and instead, the symbol of woman-with-penis has become one of our core subculture-images. in the last few years, the word faggot has come back in a big way, with a real gendered connotation now, sorta like what the girls on here were trying to get at with baeddel before all the shit happened. that's also a move.

so this phenomenon, this new game we're building together, includes surgeries as a move. but it also includes a lot of the subculture-building classics: weird fashions, radical politics, drugs, kinky sex, making noises on the computer, and so on.

and since the whole point of this thing is a process of defining yourself into existence, as soon as something starts to become a cliché, an orthodoxy, a mandated practice, it starts to break down. everything is stupid fucking contextual. if everyone around you is desperately pursuing genital surgery, saying 'I like my dick and want to keep it' becomes a potent move. but if the pendulum swings the other way, once everyone is saying 'do you really need surgery, you know you don't need it to Be Trans, please stay as you are since it's easier for us that way', maybe that ritual regains some of its power. it's perverse. perversity is kind of necessary to it.

so the meta evolves.

i am speaking about transness here, but i think similar forces are at work with other self-id games, autism and so on. there is like, actual biological variation, but far more important is the ideas we're playing with on top of that. what concepts are activated when I think 'autism', now largely positive associations: sensory this, obsession that; not the same as twenty years ago. thankfully my fellow autists made an interesting game to make of it: a space to express something.

[plunderbunny]

I'm a cishet man, so that of course colors my perceptions of these kinds of things, as well as my anxiety and depression in general, but I think it might be useful to offer my perspective here about this kind of thing.

My primary friend group is predominantly queer, and outside of that friend group many of my friends are queer, so the vast majority of my social interactions these days is in mostly LGBTQ groups or with queer people. I love them all dearly, but there are many, many occasions when I feel like there is a kind of... Enforced distance between them and me, based largely on my orientation and gender identity. When my queer friends say things like "are the straights okay", or spend time with straight family members in bad relationships and complain about "spending time with straight couples, where is the love?", or praise media by saying nothing other than "it's so gay" as though that gayness itself was an indicator of artistic and moral quality, or get frustrated by random people out in the world being jerks and complain about "cishet assholes", or groan and boo and complain when movies or games have straight couples in them, or say they would "rather die than play a man in a video game" (even as an exaggeration), or furry friends joking about how I "still think I'm cishet, how cute", or any number of other similar tiny things, it makes me feel as though I'm less important, less loved by them, less valuable or worthy of consideration, simply because of my orientation and gender identity, things entirely out of my own control.

Now, I'm not stupid, I know that they're not often saying these things to me specifically, or trying directly to put me down. When they say these things, they're generally talking to a queer audience, and from what I can tell these things are generally meant as an expression of LGBTQ support and/or an expression of frustration with being part of a minority group that faces all kinds of discrimination, bigotry, and oppression. But knowing that doesn't mean that it doesn't make me feel less loved by these people that I care about, just because I'm a cishet man. I think that there are ways that they could make similar shows of support and love for their LGBTQ friends without potentially alienating or othering their cishet friends, in the same way that I do my best not to alienate and other my queer friends. Which, full disclosure, I know that I'm not always the best at, ESPECIALLY in the past! People are always learning, I don't expect perfection from anyone (except myself but that's the depression talking again lol).

I don't think it's quite to the level of "irrational hatred" of men that OP was talking about, but more on the level of a bunch of little microaggressions that sit in my head and add up over time and make me feel like there's an impassable gulf between myself and many of the people I love. Yes, I understand that my queer friends don't have the enormous privilege I do of not being judged and hated by much of society based on just their identity, but I don't think that that makes me deserving of less respect just because I happen to share an identity with many of their oppressors.

"straw(wo)men, youre gonna make other trans girls scared youll turn against them" is really fucking wild for a trans woman with a huge platform to say.

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Writing Notes: Researching Stories

Author David Sedaris expertly gathers information before writing essays and short stories. Here’s his advice for researching stories and improving your writing.

Tips for Gathering Information

Take great notes. Your memory isn’t perfect—so getting in the habit of being an observant writer and writing everything down will help you keep track of all of your story inspiration. Keeping a diary where you write down things that happen to you, things you find funny or interesting, dialogue you overhear and love, and character traits, will help you see the world differently. Keeping a dream journal will train you to remember more and more of your dreams. Keeping a gratitude journal and, each day, writing down what you are grateful for, will train you to look for things to be thankful for. Keeping a record of your surroundings will open you to moments that could become stories and the parts of your world that belong in your writing.

Meet a variety of people. When was the last time you asked someone for directions? Forcing yourself to rely on other people is a great way to create built-in encounters with strangers. David, for example, has never learned to drive a car. As such, public buses, Ubers, planes, and trains are all opportunities for meetings that can lead to diary entries and essays. These are situations that you don’t choose or orchestrate, but they can lead to a chance connection that you might end up writing about. These fortuitous interactions are part of what makes life worth living for David.

Be present in the moment. Once you’re in the habit of writing everything down, you might be tempted to whip out your notebook in the middle of a particularly juicy conversation. But resist the urge. “You don’t want to end it,” David says (of “the moment” in question). “I was in London and I was in a taxidermy shop. And the owner of the shop showed me these owls that he had for sale. And then he showed me a pygmy skeleton. And then he showed me an amputated arm. And then he showed me a girl’s head. So he had some human things that were for sale. And by that time my life really felt like a story. But I knew that if I pulled out my notebook, everything would have ended.” Instead of ending the moment, let a situation play out naturally instead of drawing attention to it by taking notes as it’s happening. People might feel self-conscious if they see your notebook, or, even worse, they’ll become aware of the way they’re being observed by you. That will alter or shut down what might have happened without the notebook. You can always jot down notes once the moment is over.

Source ⚜ More: Notes & References ⚜ Writing Resources PDFs

[scoobydoodean]

Sam and Dean are having a covert fight the entirety of 7.13 "Slice Girls", from the very beginning to the end over the very different ways they're coping with Bobby's death.

Sam is pushing them to hunt more (which is typical—also see: 2.02, 3.11, 4.09), while Dean is exhibiting the same depression symptoms we've seen all season, expressing deep cynicism about the job (ex: 7.05, 7.09) fantasizing about escape, and seeking drinks and conversation with strangers in bars as a distraction.

We open 7.13 with Sam driving and Dean asleep in the passenger seat, and it's immediately apparent that Dean didn't want to go on this hunt, and Sam really really did. It's also apparent that Sam is bothered by how Dean is coping, and Dean is bothered by how Sam is coping... Probably because Sam's way of coping (hunting) is the exact opposite of what Dean would like to do.

SAM: Is that Bobby’s? [DEAN takes a drink from Bobby's flask.] SAM: I didn’t know you kept that. DEAN: Yeah, mine sprung a leak. SAM: You know, most people would just carry a – a photo or something for a memento. DEAN: Shut up, man. I’m – I’m – I’m honoring the guy, all right? This is, uh, grief therapy, kind of like you and your wild-goose chase. SAM: Wild-goose chase? DEAN: Yeah.

Sam's clearly worried about Dean's drinking, and has been for a while, but he's too antsy to address the subject outright, so he teases instead. Dean reads the underlying judgement and argues that what he's doing is no less destructive than Sam pushing them to drive through the night for a case that might not be anything. The thing is, this is absolutely a weird situation that's right up their alley as a potential case. Dean just didn't do the reading, because he didn't want to go on a hunt to begin with.

SAM: Four guys murdered in two weeks, hands and feet cut off. DEAN: Yeah, well, some guy with a foot fetish run amuck. SAM: Grown men thrown so hard they went through walls. Did you – did you even read the article? DEAN: No, I was napping.

Sam then reminds Dean that they agreed the previous episode that it was best to stay busy to cope with Bobby's death... or rather—Sam said he wanted to work to cope with Bobby's death, and Dean agreed that that was best for him too but didn't mean it, then practiced fake smiles in the driver's seat.

SAM: Well, anyway, what else you got going on? Dick Roman’s a dead end for now, you might as well – DEAN: Stay busy. SAM: Exactly. DEAN: Yeah.

At the forensics lab, Dean has an odd interaction with the forensics expert, bragging about their health care benefits package as "FBI agents". This annoys Sam, who's all business. Dean's small talk full of lies feels odd—but might reflect his desire to escape to a job that provides them with actual pay and health insurance (hell—as Bobby's emergency contact, he might be dodging calls over Bobby's insurance over his stay in the trauma center).

Dean begrudgingly admits there's a case here, and Sam wants to begin research, but Dean nopes right out of that.

SAM: Let’s get a bite to eat, go back to the motel, haul out the laptop. DEAN: That’s a great idea. Actually, that’s a brilliant idea. Here’s my counter. You do that, I’ll go undercover, go mingle amongst the locals and see, uh, what kind of clues bubble to the surface. SAM: You’re going to a bar.

Sam tries to call Dean out for bailing, but Dean doesn't actually give a damn that Sam wants him to work, so he basically just goes, "yep" and takes off.

At the bar, Dean again imagines himself as a normal person, talking with Lydia about having a decent year in terms of income. Sam and Dean have spent a lot of the season squatting in abandoned homes because their money situation is so bad (Dean complains about this in 7.09 and 7.12), and Dean burned 15 grand he managed to scrape together (probably from Bobby's estate) on payments to Frank. Lydia talks about not being ready to settle down. Dean at least pretends to agree (this is 8 episodes after his last attempt at a one night stand required a pep talk to convince himself, "One night stands are what you do").

Next, the brothers fight at least two separate times about Sam finding an expert (Preofessor Morisson) to do some of the lore search they used to rely on Bobby for, with Dean grumbling (essentially) about how no one can replace Bobby, and Sam being annoyed that Dean's grumbling when they have no other choice if they want to solve the case.

After that, things start to take a turn from what happened at the beginning of the episode with Dean denying the obvious. Sam starts making some really weird accusations and denials that just don't make sense.

First, Dean contacts Lydia because he realizes he left his flask at her house. Sam insists on the narrative that Dean's catching feelings, when it's blatantly obvious that Dean just wants to retrieve a flask with sentimental value because it belonged to Bobby. Then Sam's teasing Dean over Lydia not answering his calls, inferring that Dean is wounded by rejection, instead of very clearly just wants the flask. Right after another complaint from Dean about Morrison:

SAM: Dean, you know what? I want to call him, too, okay? Believe me. But Bobby's not here. So we're settling [for Professor Morrison]. DEAN: Yeah. We sure are. [DEAN looks at his phone.] DEAN: Damn it, why hasn't she called? SAM: Who? Lydia? Wait, so some girl's actually dumping you the morning after? DEAN: I think you're enjoying this a little more than you need to. Screw it. I'm going over there and getting the flask.

I think we can make an argument here that Sam's denying the significance Dean assigns to the flask because it represents 1) Dean's worsening relationship with alcohol 2) How that relationship to alcohol in season 7 is attached to Dean's grief over losing people he loves (Cas and Bobby).

Second, Sam weirdly pretends that Dean's description of Lydia's toddler talking like an adult and growing to the size of a 6 year old with hours is not weird and that Dean is just being crazy somehow... and it's even weirder that Sam pretends it's not weird and that Dean is being crazy, given Dean shares this information about Lydia with Sam after Sam finds out that the bar where Dean met Lydia is directly connected to the disappearances of several men who met one night stands there.

One the phone, Sam complains that Dean hasn't met up with him:

SAM: You never showed. DEAN: I'm outside Lydia's. SAM: Oh, come on, man. What, are you obsessed or something? DEAN: No, I'm telling you. I have been eating at the buffet of strange all afternoon. SAM: Meaning what? DEAN: I'll tell you the second I know. But something ain't right. SAM: Or you're obsessed. DEAN: Shut up. I'm serious.

Then later in person, Sam repeatedly denies that Dean could possibly know what he's talking about:

SAM: So what? I mean, so maybe she has another kid she didn't tell you about. DEAN: Nope, just the one. Emma. But that night, when I was with her, she didn't have any. And I was at her place, man. There was no playpens, no blankets, no rubber ducks. SAM: Right. Like you would have been focused on that kind of thing.

and,

DEAN: Then, all of a sudden, boom – baby. SAM: Yeah, the one you thought talked. DEAN: Oh, it talked. And not baby talk, either. SAM: Now you know so much about child development?

Dean eventually gets genuinely irritated:

DEAN: Lydia's handing this kid who's calling her mommy over to these two women, right? But this is not a baby. No, no, this kid's got to be five. And same name – Emma. SAM: You know, George Foreman named all his sons George. DEAN: Are you deliberately messing with me?

Sam just shrugs. I think Sam's denying the stakes here because he doesn't want to believe yet another person he cares about might be in danger. He'd prefer to believe Dean is just playing Dean Winchester, Playboy Who's Caught Feelings. It's only after they get a lore update from Professor Morrison matching Dean's story that Sam relents.

Third, Sam blows up at Dean when he suggests Bobby is haunting them through the flask... except... Sam also clearly thinks there's something to it? Dean sees a paper move and immediately reports it to Sam as a sign of ghost activity, and Sam doesn't hesitate to take out the EMF meter... but then he notices there's a nearby powerline and gets condescending about how it's obviously interfering with the readings. Dean suggests maybe the flask is haunted, and Sam gets mad.

SAM: We burned him, Dean. DEAN: So what?

They know that objects can be haunted. They know that.

SAM: So, what are you suggesting? DEAN: I don't know. What are you?

Dean knows Sam thinks he's crazy.

SAM: Concentrate on something else. DEAN: Why? SAM: Because it's [raising his voice and stepping close to DEAN] not Bobby! DEAN: Could be. SAM: No, it couldn't be. DEAN: Why not? SAM: [loudly, very close to DEAN] Because we want it to be.

The thing is, Sam immediately does something that contradicts his vehement rejection of Dean's theory that Bobby moved the papers!!!

SAM snatches the piece of parchment from the bed. DEAN: Maybe it's useful. SAM: It's in a pile of "maybe it's useful." Besides, it's in Greek. Nobody reads Greek. DEAN: Yeah, except Greeks. Oh, and Bobby. SAM: And Professor Morrison. DEAN: Really? SAM: I'm going, Dean. You stay here, keep the door locked. Don't go anywhere. I mean it.

Wow wow wow.

Anyway though. Is it any wonder Sam lectures Dean at the end of the episode for hesitating to kill his own daughter, insists that she wasn't really his, and then when Dean says that is objectively false, Sam calls him crazy?

SAM: You know what? Bobby was right. Your head's not in it, man. When Cas died, you were wobbly, but now...

Finally, Dean snaps back.

DEAN: Now what? Oh, what, you're dealing with it so perfect? Yeah, news flash, pal – you're just as screwed up as I am! You're just... bigger.

Sam doesn't get to pretend he's fine just because his coping strategies involve hunting to escape instead of drinking. Like Dean, he is avoiding certain realities to cope with his grief and fears. Hell—one could argue he does that much more than Dean during this episode.

Excerpts from 7.13 transcript on the good SPN wiki

[just-dreaming-marvel]

Love That Burns ~ Ending 2 ~ 53

LOVE THAT BURNS MASTERLIST

< previous chapter

Word Count: 2,790ish

Summary: You, Laura, and Logan restart your lives in 2024.

Notes: Apparently, people thought that the last chapter was the end. We still have some chapters left people! Please share reactions! Please remember to review the timeline posted here.

Reminder: I DO NOT do taglists. Please don’t ask. Please follow and interact! I appreciate any reblogs, likes, comments, and asks!

Though Wade was insistent that you, Laura, and Logan could live in his two bedroom apartment with his roommate Althea, you weren’t going to have that. After two nights of sleeping in the extra bedroom with Laura while Wade and Althea slept together and Logan slept on the couch, you were grateful that the two bedroom next door was available, allowing you and Laura to move in there. Not that Wade allowed you any privacy now that you had your own apartment.

“Morning, Buttercup and little wolf!” He exclaimed as he barged into your apartment after the first night you and Laura stayed in it. “It’s party day!”

“Morning, Wade,” you muttered, not fully awake yet.

“So what are you wearing to the party tonight? A sexy dress? A casual sweater? A—“

“I’m not going to your party, Wade.”

“What? Why would you break my heart like that? I already told all my readers that you’ll be there!”

“I’m not up for it,” you shrugged. “I start my job at the bar nearby tomorrow and I want to be well rested.”

“It’s not a party, party! It’s more like a large family dinner!”

You shook your head. “Sorry, Wade, I’m not going.” You walked out of the room and down the hall.

Wade sighed and looked at Laura. “Are you coming?”

“Yep,” she nodded. 

“At least there’s one of you I don’t have to convince.”

~~~

Laura knocked on your open door. Wade had left a while ago, but Laura had allowed you some time alone before coming to talk.

“Hey, kiddo,” you shot her a smile as you organized your room, still setting things up. “What’s up?”

“I don’t know, you tell me,” she responded.

You sighed. You should have known Laura would figure that something was up. You had felt off since returning to this timeline—to 2024— and had begun to retreat into yourself. You were restarting your life, yet again. Your body still ached from using your powers. You knew that a younger version of you and your original Logan were currently living in the mansion, happily. A different Logan lived next door that you had mixed feelings towards. You now had an annoyingly nosy neighbor who was a doppelgänger from your X-Team member. Not to mention Blind Al, who was constantly high or that you still had a teenager that you loved dearly and had to take care of. Everything was getting to be overwhelming.

“I’m fine, Laura,” you told her. “There’s a lot going on—a lot that has happened. It’s going to take me a while to get used to it all… But I’m sure you’re feeling similarly.”

Laura nodded, coming over to sit on your bed. “It’s just… it’s him, but it’s not. Like they look similar and they talk similar. But…” You stopped what you were doing as she paused, coming over to sit beside her. “He doesn’t look at me with that annoyance that dad did��� he… he sees… me. And I know he will never replace dad but it’s still nice.”

You slung an arm over Laura’s shoulders and pulled her into your side. “Your father… he cared about you in his own way.”

“I know.”

“And I know that he was harsh and mean and I wish I had the extra time to yell at him about it… I’m sorry that he wasn’t who he should have been.”

“You don’t have to keep apologizing for him, mom.”

“But I do… especially since he’s not here to do it.” Though, in the back of your mind you thought about how he wasn’t all that far away at all. Currently, in the mansion, with you.

“I will forever be grateful for him… for his sacrifice… for you.”

“I’m grateful for you, too.” You kissed her head before resting your head against hers. You sighed. “I can’t go to the party… Wade’s invited people from the mansion. I just… I can’t see them. Not yet.”

“Wade’s not going to be happy about it. He let you have a break this morning, but you know he’s going to throw a fit.”

“I know. But I’ll just be honest with him.”

“I think Logan will be disappointed too.”

“He’ll be fine.”

“Is he another reason you’re not going?”

“Yes… it’s just weird… he has his face and his eyes, but not… he doesn’t have the same memories at all… It’s going to take some getting used to.”

“I should stay home with you.”

“No. You need to go have fun. Make friends. Keep Logan and Wade in line and then come home and tell me all about it.”

“You sure?”

“Positive.”

~~~

Logan had stuck to his new room for a majority of the day, drinking. It was weird being in a world that was similar to his own but also completely different. Here, the X-Men were alive and revered. The Wolverine was a hero. Something that he had never truly been. There was also the fact that he had people who believed in him again and he was terrified to let them down like he had with the others. 

Then there was you. Something inside of Logan was drawn to you. It wasn’t romantically, not yet anyway. But he wanted to be near you, get to know you, be friends. Just from what he had seen and heard in the brief interactions the two of you had, Logan knew that you were a strong woman, who had been through a lot. You had clearly raised a great daughter, who wasn’t even yours by blood. And you were different then the you from his universe. Though he didn’t know if you wanted to get to know him at all.

Logan exited his room when he heard others arrive. Wade quickly had to explain to the others (especially Colossus, Yukio, and Negasonic Teenage Teenage Warhead who lived at the mansion) why there was another Logan. Laura had already spoken to Wade before in private, threatening him to not speak about you with the others just yet.

Everyone was laughing and telling stories while Logan noticed Wade looking longingly at Vanessa. He reached over and took Mary Puppins from him.

“Give me the fucking dog,” he muttered. “Talk to the girl.”

Logan turned so he was facing Laura better, giving Wade and Vanessa some privacy. Laura smiled at gave Mary Puppins a pet. Logan’s eyes glanced around the room, his small smile fading when he realized who was missing.

“Kid, where’s your mom?” He asked Laura. “She runnin’ late or somethin’?”

Laura shook her head. “She’s not coming,” she answered.

“What? Why?”

The young woman sighed. “She’s… struggling. It’s not easy coming back to a time when you know your younger self is living happily with your husband not too far from here.”

Logan hadn’t even thought of that. Yes, he knew the rules the TVA had for you to come back to 2024, but he hadn’t taken them as seriously as maybe he should have. He couldn’t even imagine the turmoil you must be going through. Logan focused back on Laura, quickly realizing that she may be dealing with something similar.

“Are you, uh, okay?” He asked.

Laura was taken by surprise. “I’m getting there. It’s different for me though.”

Logan nodded, not wanting to press any further. His eyes fell to the pizza box in front of him. “Does your mom like pizza?”

~~~

You could hear the hustle and bustle of Wade’s party next door. You had pushed Laura out the door and locked it. The apartment seemed empty, overwhelmingly so though you knew it was just your mind playing tricks. As the anxiety seeped in, you were able to get yourself to the couch on shaky legs. You began to go through a breathing routine as you tried to keep your powers at bay. It wouldn’t be any good to anyone if you burned down the apartment already.

Your hands balled into fists as you could feel them begin to heat up. Tears slipped down your face as you tried to focus on not forming flames. A burning sensation ripped through your hands, causing you to snap them open. Instead of forming flames as you were trying hard to avoid, your hands were burning. Burn marks and blisters were appearing on the skin of your hands.

A timid knock on the door had your head snapping in that direction, eyes wide. You held your breath, waiting for the person to leave, but they only knocked again.

“Y/N,” Logan’s voice broke through the door, “It’s, uh, me. Logan. Laura told me that you weren’t coming to the party so I brought some pizza over.”

If you had been in the right frame of mind, you would have found it cute that he brought you food. But instead you were in pain and panicked that he could break the door down and see your hands. You stood up quickly and stumbled to the kitchen, biting down on your lip as you shoved your hands under cold water.

Logan could hear movement from the other side of the door. His brows pinched together as he moved his ear closer to listen in. There was a brief scent of smoke along with the sound of your stumbling feet and rushing water. Perhaps you burnt something on accident.

“You okay in there?” He asked. You bit down on your lip harder. “Need any help?” You remained as quiet as you could. Logan sighed. 

Laura had said that you were struggling. Even told him that it had to do with your husband of the same name and face. Perhaps it wasn’t the best idea for him to come over.

“I’m going to leave the pizza on the rug,” he told you. “Let me know if you need anything.”

Logan set the plate of food down before heading back to his apartment. He spared your door one last glance before he slipped back into the party.

You on the other hand, were still in the kitchen, trembling. You turned off the water and grabbed a hand towel to place your hands on. With both hands burnt and no first aid kit, you didn’t know what to do next. You definitely couldn’t let Laura come home to find you like this. Maybe if you just went to bed, your body would heal itself by morning. That seemed like the best option.

~~~

“Thanks for the fun, Wade,” Laura said as she headed out the door. 

“That’s for not being a party pooper like your mom,” he commented. “She owes me, especially since all my readers were expecting something juicy tonight.”

She rolled her eyes and stepped into the hallway. Her face fell when she noticed the plate of pizza sitting there. Logan peeked his head out, disappointed when he saw the same thing.

“Let us know if either of you need anything,” he quietly said before heading to his room.

Laura nodded and headed to the apartment door. She picked up the plate before unlocking the door and slipping inside. The place was dark and you weren’t anywhere to be seen. Laura put the pizza away in the fridge before heading down the hall. She stopped by your room and tried to open the door, only to find it locked. She sighed, debating on whether or not to wake you. Deciding to not, Laura went to her room and got ready to bed. Her thoughts were focused on you and how there was a possibility that you were doing worse than even she knew.

~~~

You were grateful that you were able to get some sleep. But you woke up and the burns were still on your hands. As quickly and quietly as you could, you threw on a jacket and left the apartment, hands buried in the pockets. You walked to the nearest store, buying burn cream, gauze, wrap, pain killers, and multiple sets of gloves.

When you returned to the apartment, Laura was up.

“Hey, mom,” she greeted, looking at you with concern. “Where were you?”

“I just had to get a few things from the store,” you told her, heading towards the bathroom.

“Are you okay?”

You stopped and looked back at her, forcing a smile that you knew she wouldn’t believe. “I’m fine.”

“Mom…”

“I need to get ready for work. I start today and have to go in early to fill out paperwork.” Then you disappeared into the bathroom.

~~~

You were glad that no one had yet to question why you were wearing gloves in May. You got to your new job at the bar near by, painfully filled out the paperwork, and then got training. You tried to mask the fact that your hands hurt with every little movement by focusing on what your manager was telling you. Your manager sent you home before the rush, telling you to rest up and you’ll work it tomorrow.

Laura was in the kitchen making dinner when you returned home.

“Hey mom,” she greeted with a smile. “How was work?”

“Exhausting,” you replied, shooting her a smile. You walked over and sat at the table. “It will be a good thing though. How was your day?”

“Fine. Wade came home, insisting on help me set up my room. Claimed it to be bonding time.”

You laughed. “I’m sure he was great help.”

“Oh, so much,” she laughed. “And—wait, mom, are you wearing gloves?” She came over to you. “Why are you wearing gloves?”

“I’m fine, Laura. Just—“

“Are you cold?” The fear in her eyes hand your heartbreaking. She knew that you being cold wasn’t a good thing.

“No, no, that’s not it.” You took a deep breath, knowing that you couldn’t keep it from her. “Could you, uh, pull off the gloves for me?”

Laura sat down and gently pulled off your gloves. Her eyes widened upon seeing the bandages that had spots of blood and ooze. She carefully unwrapped one of your hands to see the damage.

“Mom… when—Why?” She said quietly.

“I was trying to prevent my hands from going up in flames,” you explained. “But it looks like I just made it worse.”

“Is it healing?”

“It looks slightly better than last night. So it’s healing, just slowly.”

You and Laura jumped as the door slammed open. Wade waltzed in with Logan trailing behind. You quickly stuffed your hands between your thighs to hide the damage. 

“My two favorite girls!” Wade exclaimed. “Is dinner ready?”

“Almost,” Laura mumbled, heading back to the stove. 

“Well, Buttercup,” Wade plopped into the seat beside you, “we sure missed you last night.”

“I’m sure it was a lot of fun,” you said, standing. You stuffed your hands into your pant pockets with a wince. Logan noticed. “I’m going to go wash up before dinner.”

They all watched as you walked down the hall and into the bathroom, shutting the door behind you.

“What can we do to help?” Logan offered. Laura could sense that the question had multiple meanings: help with dinner and help with you.

Laura shook her head, opting to remain silent. Logan grew more concerned. Wade and him had clearly interrupted something. Wade told stories as Laura finished dinner and getting it on the table and you took your time in the bathroom. When you finally reappeared, you had new compression gloves on your hands. 

“What’s with the gloves Elsa?” Wade asked, immediately noticing them. “Or I guess the opposite of Elsa since you deal with fire and she—“

“I’ve just been having some pain,” you brushed him off. “I’m fine.”

You glanced over and Logan who was looking at you like he didn’t believe you. You looked away. What was with Logan’s and seeing right through you? Wade took over the dinner conversation, allowing you to focus on eating and ignoring your problems. Logan kept stealing glances at you throughout the dinner, noting the way your hands had begun to shake, even just subtly. 

“Thanks for dinner, Laura,” Logan said as he grabbed his plate and stood up. He quickly swiped your plate up too. “Wade and I can handle clean up.”

“You don’t have to,” you said, shaking your head. 

“I know.”

~~~

Laura lingered in your doorway as she watched you rewrap your hands. Tears fell down your cheeks and onto your hands.

“Mom,” Laura whispered, coming to sit beside you.

“I’m so sorry, Laura,” you cried. “I’m so sorry.”

“What for?”

“You’re going to have to deal with me and my dwindling ability… And I… Soon I won’t be able to make those flames for you anymore…”

Laura wrapped you up in a hug. “I don’t need your flames, mom… I just need you.”

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