#<- new speaking tag for this blog even though I speak never here

[creatingblackcharacters]

Where is the line when it comes to calling out how people draw black characters? Im genuinely asking. Just did some digging in the elphaba tag. 28/35 of the top art did a great job of depicting her microbraids. Of those 7 that did a bad job, all but 2 of them put in effort to draw microbraids, its just that some of those artists arent very good. So… theyre practicing. Additionally, there were 2 pieces of art (in addition to that 35) that were clearly depicting the musical and book art (obvious fans for years, from before cynthia was cast and the movie). So… wheres the line? Do we call out just those 2 who didnt put in a real effort to draw her microbraids? Do we call out all 7 who didnt draw them well? Do we message them privately, even though we really dont know them at all besides this one piece we happened to come across? Do we send them an ask about it and hope they arent malicious? It stands to reason that they KNOW they should put in an effort, theyre in the *obvious* minority of artists in this fandom so… odds are they do not give a fuck about depicting Black hairstyles well. I dont want to make a fuss where its not beneficial, especially as a non black person, for the obvious reasons of how fandoms typically treat black fans. But, there IS an issue, however small a percentage… so wheres the line?

I must admit, this one gave me an off vibe 😅 To one of your concerns, Let me put it this way:

"I know that Nazi will never change his mind, so I'll let him keep speaking loudly in the room where I and everyone else is sitting. It won't make a difference if I say anything to him. If we ignore him, he'll go away."

Is that true?

Or will speaking up let that Nazi know that at least ONE person in the room hears their bullshit and doesn't accept it? Will speaking up let the people in the room that the Nazi was targeting realize that everyone else in the room isn't also a Nazi that condones the way they're being treated? Will it allow them to feel stronger in speaking up? Will it at least show that you are not a fellow Nazi, because your actions are what deliver- and silence and tolerance delivers nothing, in this case?

"Making a fuss where it's not beneficial"- I always say here that my entire purpose is not to change your minds, but to shatter the excuse of your ignorance. I could have always just ended it with "everyone's a goddamn racist for funsies on here and I hate all of you"- because in my experience when we talk about "where's the line" on here, it's almost non-existent for the majority, not the minority! It's incredibly tempting to damn you all!

Instead, I made an entire blog to give people a chance. If I, who actually undergoes the very bigotry I teach about, have the grace to do that for you, I do believe that everyone else can reach inside for the strength to apply and hold accountable. There's always a benefit to speaking up against racism and injustice, even if it's not "changing their mind".

Now, if you genuinely just don't want to do that, then don't- but recognize that that's not because nothing can be done! That said, you don't have to fight every battle, and every battle doesn't have to be a fight! For those who you genuinely think are just "new" or "learning" artists, when you point out the issue, you can offer guidance. "Hey, here's an idea on how to better capture this braid pattern in a way that more accurately reflects Black hair". It doesn't have to be a "callout" off rip. If they don't take it well, then that's on them. That's a reflection of their character, not yours. And as a nonblack person, that is a role in your allyship that is important, because I don't expect Black people to have to show grace and teach to those who do wrong by us.

So no, I can't give you some statistically defined line of "oh this is antiblackness". because it's not that simple and it never has been.

[barleyo]

Daddy's Girl.

Step Dad! Leon Kennedy X F! Reader (smut)

A/N: Don't like? Don't read! Either way, READ THE TAGS. I'm starting to get pretty weird on this blog, so expect more stuff like this! A girl has to feed her fetishes, so feel free to tag along with me and enjoy what my sick little mind thinks up. Thanks for reading!

Tags: stepcest, step-dad/step-daughter relationship, cream pie, daddy issues, use of "baby girl" and "daddy's girl," daddy kink, oral sex (f receiving), swearing, infidelity, p in v, cream pie, unprotected sex, LARGE AGE GAP (legal), 2nd person POV

Word count: 2.1k

As far as your mother was concerned, your father was worth less than the sum of his parts. He was fleeting idea, a mere concept in both of your lives ever since you could remember. Sure, you remembered a few odd Christmases with a surplus of gifts, all tagged "from Daddy," and a few daddy-daughter dates here and there, but that wasn't enough to make up for his true absence. 

It wasn't a surprise when your mom eventually left him, scooping you up with her. Just you and her, and the rare postcard that your sperm-donor decided to ship off once a year or so. It was good enough then when it was just you two finding your way in the world, but it went downhill when your mom found a new boy toy. 

Leon.

He wasn't a bad guy, by any means. Wasn't pushy, didn't make you call him "dad" or try to impose his will onto you, but his presence made the absence of your real father that much more obvious. You tried to ignore him for the most part, letting your mom have her little relationship with him to tide her over. 

But then they got married. Leon became a more permanent fixture. That was no bueno. 

You toughened it out, being cordial with him until you finally hit that mark of independence: sweet, sweet 18! The big one-eight, your ticket to freedom! 

Everything was planned out for your big day. Mom and Leon made a cake, presents were given, and all birthday wishes granted, except for one. What you really wanted, was for your dad to show up for just this one day, just this once, to have him and not just his money. 

You could never get that lucky, though, and that thought was cemented in your head when you found yourself waiting for him outside of your house. The driveway was empty, not even your mom's car was out there, she still had to head off to work. The world couldn't pause for a birthday girl, it seemed.

Stepping back inside to the house, you slammed the door behind you, practically throwing yourself onto the leather couch in the living room. The tears started faster than you could contain them, and quite honestly, you didn't want to contain them. It was your party, damn it, and you would cry if you wanted to!

"You okay, kid? I heard the door-"

Fuck. Him.

Leon's heavy footsteps made their way down the stairs, leading to his place in front of you. "(Y/N), are you crying?"

You sucked back a breath of air, steadying yourself as much as you could before speaking. 

"No, 'm not, just-- go, just leave me alone." You let your face drop into your hands, staining your sleeves with tears.

Leon, being just the right amount of pushy, took a steps next to you a placed his hand on your shoulder. "Can we talk about it? I mean, I probably know what it is, but we could- you could say whatever you need to say." His face cringed a bit at his own words, feeling like he was already fucking this up. "No judgement."

You kept your face covered but obliged, knowing that talking about it, even with Leon, would make you feel a little better.

"My dad isn't here. He's been promising for weeks that he'd show, but he isn't here."

"Oh."

Your step-dad bit his lip trying to figure out how to make you feel better. He knew you weren't exactly fond of him, but he felt a twinge of responsibility.

"Fuck 'em," Leon finally decided on. "He's a liar and you don't need him. So, fuck 'em. Why would you want a deadbeat to bring you down on your special day?" 

"Because, he's my dad," you said, like it was the most obvious thing. He was right, of course, but the absence still hurt you.

"No dad would stand up a sweet girl like you on her birthday. You only turn 18 once. A real dad wouldn't miss a birthday this monumental for anything. What's he worth, if he can't keep to his word?"

"I guess nothing." You sat up straighter, trying to make yourself calm down. "D'ya think it's, like, my fault? Why doesn't he want to see me?"

He suddenly got really serious, making his grip on your shoulder firm.

"Not at all. You are a wonderful girl. Your mom thinks so, and so do I. You are brilliantly smart, kind, responsible, sweet, gorgeous-- you're perfect and if that scumbag can't see that, then he's beyond saving." 

He loosened his grip, letting his hand fall down to your lap, a bit close to the crotch of your jeans. You didn't look down, trying to convince yourself it was an accident, but he didn't move his hand either.

His other hand came up to your face, holding your cheek and to your own surprise, you leaned into his hand. His big, calloused, confronting hand.

Fuck him.

Something snapped in you when he leaned in for a kiss. God, it was wrong, so wrong, but you were so conflicted. Is this what a father's love really felt like? Hell if you knew, this was close enough in your book.

"Hmph-! Leon..." You pulled away from the kiss, wiping at your mouth roughly to get rid of the salvia strings connecting the both of you. "This is wrong, this isn't okay, my mom-"

"Is not here." 

He placed another kiss on your lips, this one chaste and sweet, so unlike the passionate one you shared before. 

"Just you and me. I know your dad isn't here, but I am. Let me make up for him, baby." His whispers pricked goosebumps over your body, lighting a fire deep in you. "Let daddy love you. Can I show you?"

His big hand looked nearly comical resting against the small button of your jeans, pawing desperately at them. So, so, so wrong. So fucked up, so not okay, so....

"Yes," you said breathily. "Okay, I-I want you to show me. Just be careful please, 'cause.." you trailed off a bit, feeling the pop of your pants opening. 

Leon yanked them down, tossing them away quickly. "Fuck, that's good," he said, pressing his tongue flatly on your mound through your panties. 

The fabric slowly grew a wet patch that clung to you, getting sticky. He placed a soft kiss on your clothed clit, then rested his head on your soft thigh.

"Anybody ever touch you here?" he asked, running a finger over your pussy. 

You softly shook your head, mumbling out a 'no.'

"Mm, more for daddy, yeah? Gonna make you feel so good," he said, slipping your panties to the slide. His mouth made quick work, tongue already gliding up and down on your clit. 

Your face was already twisting up in pleasure, eyebrows knitting together tightly.

"That's cute," he blew cool air over your cunt, keeping his eyes on your face. "You like it? My mouth all over you like this?"

"Mhm, please- don't stop. I wanna feel it again." 

You reached your hand out to hold his head, wanting to push it down before bringing your hand back nervously.

"That's right, push my head down if you want. 'M here to make you feel good, so you use me. Just a wet mouth for you today, sweet girl."

You nodded eagerly, running your hands through his blond hair and taking taking firm purchase of a section of it. Your hands greedily pushed his face into your cunt. The feeling of his nose rubbing against your clit while his tongue dug into your tight hole made you feel fuzzy inside.

Leon was so vulgar with his noises; he almost enjoyed it more than you were. Slurp after slurp came from his mouth, accompanied by a moan or two while he tried to get himself off by palming himself through his pants. 

The sight of him was just as good as the feeling of him. You had never been taken care of so thoroughly. Leon was opening a whole new world to you, a world where you could be selfish and take, because your daddy would provide, no questions asked.

"Lemme try somethin', yeah, baby?"

He shook your hand off and spat directly on your clit, spreading the fat glob with his fingers. Tight, fast circles were traced over your bud, back and forth. It felt like hypnosis, the way he reeled your body in closer to an orgasm. 

"Daddy, please, 'm gonna cum," you said, face flushing of all color. "Your mouth, want your mouth," you shot out quickly, already obsessed with the feeling of his hot mouth tonguing you down.

He obliged, of course. How could he turn his princess down? Leon's lips again wrapped around your clit, sucking on the bud like it gave him life. 

You came soon after. You seized and convulsed and the feeling of his eyes taking you in made the waves of pleasure crash down that much harder over your body. 

"If he knew what a sweet fucking pussy you had," Leon said, licking a final stripe over it, "he'd never wanna leave."

"Wha--?"

"I said," Leon pulled away from your pussy, lifting his head to your ear, "that even your dad would wanna be tongue deep in your sweet, tight cunt. But it's all mine, isn't it?"

The sound of his belt unbuckling made you wetter, if that was possible, but it also sent a sense of realization through you.

You had your pussy in your step dad's mouth. And you liked it. And now, you would let him fuck you. And you would love it. 

"I know you're a virgin, but fuck, baby, you're so tight." His voice was grumbly and strained while he tried to push into you. "Maybe I need to eat you up a little more," he teased.

"No, I need you inside, wanna feel it now." You let yourself go completely. Here you were, whining like a brat while Leon's fat cock stretched you. The pain with sharp, but immediately worth it. He fit inside perfectly, easily hitting your sensitive spots with a few thrusts.

He hissed, feeling you clamp down on his length. "Shh, come on, gotta get used to it baby. Don't want me to cum too quick, do you?"

"Yes, I do," you whined, desperate to know for certain that you were making him feel good too. 

Leon's laugh softly rang in your ears. "No, I wanna make it worth your time. Wish I could take you all night long," he muttered, leaning down to press a kiss to your lips. 

He swallowed all of your moans, slipping his tongue into your mouth while he rocked into you. He tried to find a rhythm, but he was too lost in pleasure to be neat about it. 

He'd fuck you nice and orderly another day, but for now? He just wanted to feel you gush around him, and feel your cunt get sloppy while he took you.

Your breathless moans caught his attention. He found the angle that made you get oldest and stuck with it, lifting your hips up with his hands so he could piston into your g-spot.

"Oh my god, right there! That feels-- oh my god."

"I know, baby," he said, thumbs digging into your hipbones. "Feels good f'me too. You're so good for daddy."

Your heart, and cunt, pounded the more he spoke. You were close and you knew it, you just needed him to keep talking you through it. "I am?"

"Yes, baby, you're perfect. Daddy's perfect little princess, taking my cock so good." His cock twitched, so he clenched his jaw, refusing to cum before you did. "You know what good girls get to do?"

"Hmph?" Your face was red and hot, mouth hanging open while he continued to fuck into your spongey walls.

"They cum hard on daddy's cock. Can you do that for me? Cum all on me?" He traced his hand over your cheek, letting his thumb land on your bottom lip while he egged you on.

Your body had never reacted faster, immediately creaming on his length. Your hole milked him, each contraction gripping his length and sucking the cum right out of him. 

Leon let a shaky breath out before pulling out of you, scooping the mixture of your cum in his fingers. He rubbed it between two fingers for a moment and popped it into his mouth, groaning at the taste.

You came down from your own high and looked over at him, feeling guilt pull at your chest.

"Leon."

"Hm?"

"What about mom? She's gonna freak if she ever finds out. Did we fuck up? What's gonna--"

"Hey," he said, shushing you with his finger over your lips. "She's not gonna find out and she doesn't need to know. I might be married to her, and I get why you're stressed, but what we have is different."

He pulled his finger off of your mouth and pressed a kiss to your forehead cheekily. "You're daddy's girl. That makes you special."

[mixtape-timeout]

Hi Stays, this is a post to warn everyone to be wary of a SKZ author here on Stayblr with the username @/gimmeurtmi

I followed them not too long ago, but they suddenly blocked me. I was confused why because I have my age in my account and followed all of their rules. However, I have some reasons to suspect that this user is a Zionist. As you can see I am very Pro-Palestine, it’s in my blog title and bio, and I think this is why they blocked me.

They made a post showing anger about Stays educating Felix on his live about Coca-Cola (For people who don’t know, Coca-Cola is on the BDS boycott list, they support Israel and built an R&D center in occupied Palestinian territory of Atarot) In their post they said it’s “pathetic” for Stays to inform Felix about this and that he wasn’t doing anything wrong. Felix made the effort to read about the issue on his live and chose to apologize to Stay for it, but this user thinks that boycotting a brand tied to a genocidal state is the same as bullying.

((Screenshots are not mine))

They also showed strong support for the new SKZ collab with Charlie Puth. Many Stays are boycotting this collab because Charlie Puth is a raging Zionist, and the track also has an Israeli producer, Johnny Goldstein who is also a proud Zionist. gimmeurtmi even made a whole tag for this collab on their blog to show how much they’re excited for it, even though two Zionists worked on it and will be receiving royalties for it. You can also see the tags in the third post showing them speaking of Tommy Hilfiger, yet another Zionist, in a friendly manner.

Furthermore, I talked to other Stays in the community about this because I don’t want to jump to conclusions and gimmeurtmi blocked other users who are showing support for Palestine, not just me. From reading their posts on their other blog (@/stuckonspidey) you can also see how far their beliefs about this go. That’s not to say them being Jewish means they must be a Zionist, because that’s a completely false idea. There are plenty of Jewish people who are not Zionist and support Palestinian liberation because we recognize that what Palestinians are suffering through is a history repeat of what our people went through. But this added with all the other questionable evidence makes me suspicious that this user is a Zionist, or at least an Israeli sympathizer who treats support for Palestine as an inconvenience.

From these posts on their main blog, you can see them refuse to condemn Israel or even say anything about their crimes when they got asked about it. Instead, they just talk about how this genocide has personally affected them. There are no posts (that I could find) of them showing any sympathy or support for Palestine, all their posts about the subject are just self-victimizing posts about how they feel. Yes, it’s a scary time to be a Jewish person as well, I know this as a person of Jewish ancestry, too. But fighting anti-semitism AND fighting for Palestine can and SHOULD co-exist. It’s a huge red flag that the only thing they have to say about the genocide is how Jewish people are the victims in this. They also made another post where they claim that “Zionist” is just a word people use to be anti-semitic. This is a tale as old as time that Zionists have used to excuse, deny, and even justify Israel’s war crimes. I was once told that a genocide of Palestinians doesn’t exist and is just an “anti-semitic blood libel”. This is the exact same rhetoric that Zionists in my community and Zionist news outlets use (which, I add, almost ALL news outlets are strongly biased to Israel because of America’s ties to it. Israel is heavily backed in support from some of the richest and most powerful countries in the world, it is not the victim and never was).

I am not making this for drama. I made this post just to tell fellow Stays to be cautious of which writers you’re reading from and supporting. If you are against the genocide that has been happening to Palestinians for 75 years now, I suggest not supporting this person’s work, because at best they don’t care about what’s happening in Palestine, and at worst, they actually endorse it. There should be no place in our Stay community for this hateful ideology.

[twstfanblog]

*~Period Drama~* Thursday

A/N: Guess this one won XD Very excited, the end is near for this series and then I can start to hyper-focus on ANOTHER SERIES. Please tell me if you want to be tagged for any of my series! Pairings: Malleus/Jamil/Azul/Yuu poly WordCount: 7.1K Warnings: Allusions to assault briefly, She/They OC Pronouns

@twistedcece @deltrea @krenenbaker @koebishrimpuwu @cat100200 @emyluwinter @obsessionswithfandoms @ady-hilborn @lucid-stories @girl-nahh-two @itz-hydrodeptus-foxy7 @chyluna @riddlesimps @death-the-jo @a-twistedheartslonging @qixlin @chaosistheonlyway @welcome-to-my-horde @abell2029cluster @kirans-wonderland @coffee-or-hot-cocoa @the-ace-reader @iamsoconfusedallofthetime @chroniccorvus @marvelous-maxi @prolonged-eyecontact @lozplayer @jabberwocky-warrior @thateldribitch @bun-lapin @mel1rose @ladyraeka @ladyzsgolla @kimdourden @noncreativepage-blog @girl-nahh-two @shironakuronatasa @colombia-chan @roseapov @anunholyabomination @koebi-channnn

Start, Part 2 (Octavinelle), Part 3 (Heartslabyul), Part 4 (Savanaclaw), Part 4.5 (Diasomnia pt1), Part 5 (Diasomnia pt2), Part 6 (Pomfiore), Part 7 (Here)

The Pomefiore trio didn't stay the night. Vil commented that they had already skipped their afternoon classes and he wouldn't allow them all to get more off routine by spending the night. Thankfully, Vil helped Yuu properly twist and wrap their hair with Rook producing a silk scarf from seemingly nowhere before they left.

Hours later, Crewel arrived with even more period panties in his possession along with their dinner. He asked multiple questions; if the seams were too tight, if the fabric felt uncomfortable, if anything had leaked. Delighted that all seemed proper, Crewel launched into how he had never thought of the need for such a product. But he admitted that such areas on the body had fluid leaking from them at some point. It'd only make sense that if it was made they'd at least look fashionable.

Crewel stated that he would speak to his aunt, the current design head of his family's fashion house, about the underwear and if she saw a market for it.

“If so, I will make sure you get a cut. Since you were the one to insight such a need…”

He left them a small pamphlet with info on taking care of their new underwear before leaving for the night, hugging them tightly and patting them on the head.

Another hour later, Malleus and Lilia had returned to the house. Malleus was pouting heavily and crawled into the nest to hold them with no word. Lilia sighed, explaining that Malleus spent the entire school day keeping Jamil and Azul trapped in the Mostro Lounge back office. The prince tried his best but Lilia and Jamil remained firm on not allowing Malleus to change their prior agreement. Azul proved to be the weakest link in half-siding with Malleus. While he didn't fully agree with Malleus impregnating Yuu as soon as possible, he did state that something had to be done about their periods in the long term.

‘They were on campus for no more than four hours; the smell of blood still lingers in places…’

Yuu laughed, turning in Malleus’s hold to hug him back, “Do you still smell blood now?”

“...” Malleus’s eyes widen, “Now that you ask, no. Has your ailment ceased?”

“Nope. Still bleeding, but…” Yuu lifted their night dress, showing the brightly patterned underwear before lowering their gown, “Crewel got me cute new underwear to contain my biohazard.”

Lilia sighed, sitting beside the couple in the nest, “Well, that's good at least. Though didn't you say your normal cycle only lasts four days? Shouldn't it have eased by now?”

“I mean…it should. But it also wasn't normal for me to not get it for nearly half a year. Best I can do right now is play it by ear”

Malleus pouts, eyes glaring at the wall as though it could fix anything and simply refuses to help, “I dislike this, I dislike this greatly.”

“Aw…” Yuu tilted their head back, pressing a kiss to Malleus’s jawline before snuggling back into his embrace, “I hate it too. Wanna watch a movie with me?”

“...It would be an upsetting one, wouldn’t it?”

“Most of my favorite movies upset you guys. But, no, it shouldn't.” Yuu clicked at their laptop playing up their Netflix, “It's called ‘Damsel’. It's got a dragon in it-”

“Does the dragon die?” Lilia quickly asked, eyeing the screen in distrust. Yuu had claimed many times they would love a movie, only to then show them deeply distressing media.

“No, the dragon lives and even gets his just revenge-”

Malleus looks at the screen with a suspicious eye, “Does a woman die within the first few moments of this film?” Malleus had watched many movies with Yuu, and every time they insisted he would love a movie a woman would be dead within the first few minutes of the film.

Yuu playfully slapped their hand over Malleus’s mouth, pressing play on the video, “It's for the plot, now shush, and watch the damn movie.”

Malleus was dragged out of the nest by Lilia early in the morning, forced to gaze at Yuu’s equally upset self before being marched back to Diasomnia. Seems part of Malleus’s punishment for kidnapping and detaining Azul and Jamil was that he wasn't allowed more than eight hours of supervised ‘Yuu Time’. So once those hours were up Lilia was manhandling a nearly seven-foot pouting dragon out of a sleeping Yuu's embrace and out of Ramshackle.

Yuu sighed, starfishing in the nest with a severe pout. Most of their period symptoms had eased, though they were still bleeding and bloated. The number of techniques Vil and Rook had given them helped what little of their cramps were left without the need for pain medication. So now all they were left with was an intense sense of boredom.

After the sun had started to peak through the windows, Yuu decided they might as well get started on their extensive chores list. One could only put off washing dishes for so long…But, now, staring into the sink filled with dishes, Yuu wondered if they could…pretend they didn't see them. Each side had dishes neglected and stacked neatly against the porcelain. Plates, pots, and pans from the past week untouched and unsoaked. Looking around the room only made their body cry out more to go back to the nest and sleep. Floyd cooking was already a coin toss on how much of a mess he left behind and they lost. But it didn't help at all that Lilia had been in the kitchen only a few days ago as well. Scraps of food burnt and crumbled on the floor that was long overdue to be swept.

More than likely the only reason the dishes were in the sink was because Vil had put them there as a form of passive-aggressively telling them to wash them.

While they were wondering if they could put their cutting board over the sink to block out the image, knocks rang out downstairs, pelted in a constant rhythmic beat. Yuu walked from the kitchen, smiling as they saw a flash of white, burgundy, and gold from the window beside the front door. They wait, opening the door on an offbeat to Kalim’s surprised expression making the Scarabia second-year whine.

“Yuu! I had a really good beat going…”

“Hello to you too, Kalim. What do I owe this visit?”

Kalim smiled, resting his hands on his hips when he remembered why he was there, “Well, me and Jamil-”

“Jamil's here?”

Kalim laughed, not at all offended when Yuu lightly shoved him out of the doorway to look down the path. Sure enough, the vice warden was walking up the stone steps, looking through a large duffle bag slung over his shoulder and wheeling a rolling cart filled with cleaning supplies behind him with the other.

Smiling, Yuu quickly unwrapped her hair to allow the curls to seductively frame her face and wave, “Hi, Jamil~! Let me help you bring that stuff in-”

Yuu had barely placed their foot outside of the house's threshold when Jamil snapped his eyes toward them. Glaring hard enough that a flicker of red seemed to spawn in his pupils before he yelled, “Get back in the fucking house!”

“Okay. Damn.”

Yuu and Kalim both scurried into the house, each wearing a mildly fearful expression but waiting patiently for Jamil to walk inside like chastised children.

Once through the doorway Jamil closed and locked the door, situating his cart against the entryway wall. He pulled Yuu closer by the hip, his other hand resting gently on the back of their neck as he pressed his lips against theirs. The kiss lasted only a few seconds before he pulled away, giving their lips a final peck at the corner before wrapping both arms around them in an embrace. Yuu hummed, returning the affectionate hold before allowing Jamil to pull away.

Yuu smiled, tilting their head in question, “What's got you all worked up? That was a ‘Put that shit back’ kinda yell…”

“The last time you left this house, you bled all over the campus and Leona-san nearly died.”

“I didn't bleed anywhere and what the fuck does my bleeding pussy have to do with Leona dying!? He was fine the last I saw him!”

Jamil huffed, pressing one last kiss to Yuu's temple before collecting his cleaning cart, “I’m sure Leona-san would blame you for the fact he had to fight Malleus to keep him from storming Ramshackle.”

Yuu's face pinched, a hybrid expression of annoyance and confusion on their face. Turning to Kalim they gestured as though he'd have the answer they were seeking, “When was this!?”

Kalim laughed, shrugging his shoulders, “Well, there was that massive storm on Monday. A tree got tossed into the library.”

Yuu frowned, folding their arms and rolling their eyes, “I'm not taking responsibility for that. All I did was bleed and bitch. I didn't attempt murder even once Monday!”

“Uh-huh, sure hayati. Go sit with Kalim for a few hours while I go clean up.”

Jamil knew his datemate; habitually, emotionally, and physically. Every mannerism filed away in his head, be it for his own sake of mind or just because he found their quirks cute. Jamil knew in their current state of constant pain, Yuu was not doing upkeep at their normal pace. And while a part of him groaned in annoyance — one of the few days off from school he allowed himself and he's going to spend it cleaning his datmate's dumpster fire of a house — he knew that Yuu's health and mood would only improve once chores were done.

Yuu frowns even harder, moving to grab Jamil's cart and pull the sophomore back, “Wha-no! Jamil, you don't need to do my chores for me. I just gotta...suck it up and do them…and I will…at some point. But-!”

“No, buts, hayati.” Jamil yanks the cart from Yuu, cupping their cheek and caressing it with a soft smile. He looked into their eyes, snake charmer not even needed as he cooed, “Let me take care of you, okay, baby?”

Yuu instantly yielded, giggling and twirling a strand of their curly hair, “Ehehehehehe, okay Jamil~...”

Seeing his datemate properly subdued, Jamil quickly dropped his flirty tone and moved to the kitchen, “Good. Kalim, look after them for me.”

“You can count on me, Jamil!” Kalim was already guiding a still giggling Yuu toward the lounge at the back of the house with a gentle push to their shoulders.

Kalim had adored the nest instantly, flopping into the cushions like it was his own bed. He wanted to add to it, making it even bigger with some fine patterned blankets back in Scarabia. Maybe a few more pillows-

Yuu, finally free from the effects of Jamil's easy-going smile and hooded eyes, had laughed and quickly stopped the housewarden from touching the nest in an effort to change it. Stating that Malleus had built it just for them and they really liked how it looked as is. While he pouted, he yielded to Yuu’s desires, only after she had promised to make a pillow fort in Scarabia once they were all better. 

While cozy in the nest, Kalim had produced a sleeve of artisan crackers that he offered to feed them. Yuu agreed, though confused on why Kalim wanted to feed them. But quickly understood as the second-year smiled and held a cracker up, “Pspspspspspsps-”

“KALIM-”

Now lounging cozy in the nest, the sleeve of crackers slowly disappearing between them. Chatting contently with the idea of talking until Jamil called them for lunch. Chats that became on and off in topic as Kalim had locked eyes with a faded smear of blood on one of the towels under his leg. He would answer Yuu's questions after a second of staring at the smudged, rusty stain in total focus. Before long, he couldn't take the vision of it, his own mind working against him. Images of blood splatters on finely threaded sheets, children wailing in terror as innocent mothers and siblings lay in the deep red puddles during what should have been joyous celebrations. Even the more horrifying scenarios of the Viper family quickly disposing of stained bedding, older sisters and younger moms being consoled as they cried in the early mornings. Suddenly Kalim reached forward, grasping onto Yuu's hand and holding it tightly to his chest.

Kalim smiled, an edge of something uncharacteristically serious clinging to the corners, “Yuu, can I be honest?”

“Um…Yeah? Go for it, Kalim.”

“I've got a lot of moms. Lots of siblings too, so there are a lot of people in my house all the time. And…” Kalim’s grip on their hand tightens, his smile falling a bit as his eyes cast downward, “A lot of…a lot of bad stuff happens at my house sometimes. Stuff that shouldn't ever happen…so…you can tell me, ya know? I can take it.”

“...Tell you what?”

Kalim looks back up, crimson eyes cold and more determined than Yuu had ever seen them, “Yuu, if someone hurt you, you can tell me. No matter who you say did it, I'll believe you and take care of it.” Kalim placed one hand against their shoulder, the other squeezing their joint palms to his heart, “You're like a sister to me. You make Jamil happy and that's the most wonderful thing I could ever ask of a friend of mine. If someone did something to you and you lied for whatever reason, you can tell me the truth now and I'll believe you no matter what.” 

…

Yuu couldn't stop the snort they made, head tilting down as they strained against a laugh. Nothing Kalim said was funny, it was purely a moment of stunned reaction rather than comedy. Last Saturday seemed so long ago, the cloud of confusion and panic as their friends all came to the conclusion they had been assaulted, the horror they all felt and the pure devastation a few of them displayed. Each of them clearly ready and willing to maim whoever they pointed a finger at. It was…strangely heartwarming.

Covering their mouth, they moved their hand from Kalim’s hold to tug him closer into a hug, “No one hurt me, I swear. But, thank you for being so willing to believe me no matter what. It makes me feel…safe.”

Kalim hugs back just as tight, taking a deep breath before letting out a shuddering sigh. Smiling, he nuzzled into Yuu's shoulder before pulling away, “That's a relief…but…” his expression turns concerned, eyes drifting downward, “Are you…just leaking blood from down there?”

“Yep…”

“...” Kalim leaned away, his arms getting pressed between his legs and sympathy pains slowly crept into his gut as he grimaced, “I can't catch it right?”

Yuu falls over in the nest, cackling loudly while Kalim kept looking worried, “Kalim. I swear to you, your pussy isn't going to spontaneously start peeling and juicing it. And if it does, that's a concern. Get that checked out, babes.”

“Well, you should get checked out too then! Let me bring one of my doctors to the school, they won't say a word about how weird your body is and we can make sure you're healthy!”

“The fuck-How weird my body is? Fuck you.” Yuu snicked, rolling on the nest to tilt their head back to smile up to Kalim, “No. I'm going to ignore every ailment my body develops until it's too late like the born American I am.”

“Yuu, that's concerning!”

Kalim wanted a snack, a snack he begged her to let him make himself. The heir had stated he was getting better in the kitchen compared to the first few cooking lessons Yuu and Jamil had given him. Kalim had proudly bragged that Jamil had even allowed him to use the stove unattended now.

(Yuu knew from Jamil’s past venting it was only to watch boiling water, but it was using the stove…)

The two walked into the kitchen, noticing the sweet scent of grapefruit in the halls. A guilty feeling settled in Yuu’s stomach after seeing how clean their kitchen was in the single hour they and Kalim had sat and chatted in the lounge. The dishes were all washed, the sink and cabinets wiped down of every sauce splatter Yuu had long neglected. The floor was swept to perfection and a part of Yuu hoped that the fresh fruit adjacent smell was only the simmer pot and not a freshly mopped floor. Looking into the single pot on the stove, Kalim and Yuu gave pleased hums as they took in the scent of sliced grapefruits, vanilla beans, and sprigs of fresh thyme. 

With the instructions of being careful should a fairy be sleeping in any of the pots or in the oven, Yuu let the Scarabia warden have free reign of their kitchen while they went searching for their boyfriend. 

The muted sound of their washer knocking against the wall led them toward the laundry room.

The Ramshackle laundry room was one of the few rooms that weren’t locked but simply hidden from view. The Tweels had been the ones to find it during Azul’s brief ownership of the building. A false wall that could unlatched and slid to the side to show a certified massive-sized matching washer and dryer set, a wall of cabinets and a wooden topped counter island. Jade had cleaned up the room a bit as an ‘apology’ for giving them such a hard time during the duration of their contract. Floyd had stated he wasn’t sorry but to call him if they ever used the laundry powder found in the room; apparently it had been discontinued years ago for safety reasons.

Dubious washing powder aside, the laundry room was weirdly whimsical. Over the years, a bush had managed to break a window to grow throughout the room making a living ivy wall all along one side of the space. The vines had grown strong enough over time to act as a crisscross of clothing lines. Walking into the room, Yuu watched Jamil stare in complete focus at a towel in his hand standing at the island. The duffle bag was opened on the counter, a few jars and bottles with handwritten labels pulled from it and one opened in Jamil’s free hand. He watched whatever the mixture was doing before moving the towel under the running water of the built-in sink.

Yuu knocked on the doorway, smiling when Jamil looked up from his task, “What ya doing?”

“Why are you here? Go entertain Kalim.”

“You are so mean to me. Just for that, I'm gonna bother you and love you and-”

Jamil sighed, holding up the towel in his hands, “Hayati, please. I'm trying to spot-check things you bled on.”

Yuu frowned, walking over and leaning against the counter to stare at Jamil's concentrated face, “You can do that and let me kiss you on the mouth…”

“Normally, I'd love to make out with you while waiting for laundry to run its cycle, but I need to focus. Blood is easy for me to get out of things at this point. But blood and whatever else is coming out of you changes how the detergents react.” The first few towels with corroded holes from too strong a solution mix backing up his claims…

Pouting, Yuu bumped their hip against Jamil's. They repeated the motion until the sophomore finally yielded and reached for their hand, holding it gently as a blush dusted onto his cheeks. Smiling, Yuu leaned their head against Jamil's shoulder muttering under their breath, “Thank you.”

“Just let me work in peace…”

Once their load of pre-period clothing was in the dryer, Jamil had remarked that their period blood was easier to remove than normal blood spills surprisingly enough. And that he would replace the few towels the protein dissolvant had eaten though. Then he demanded they bring him every last article they had bled on. The longer they remained untreated, the harder the stains would be to remove.

Jamil had already started to separate the towels by dark and lights, taking a moment to gently shove Yuu away from his side, “Go back to the lounge with Kalim; I’ve got this handled.”

“Oh, Kalim’s in the kitchen-”

“He’s what-”

“It’s fine! He just wanted a snack-”

“The stove is on-”

“Jamil.” Yuu had managed to keep the second-year from rushing out of the room, tugging him back by the arm and smiling at his panicked expression, “Kalim is a seventeen-year-old boy. He can be trusted to work a stove. Remember? How you're both trying to be less codependent? How Kalim can manage to make himself a snack without you having to drop everything to make it for him?”

“...” The pout Jamil turns away to hide was foul, almost a sneer if Yuu could have looked at it closer. He was quiet for a few more moments before sighing, “Fine…but if I smell smoke-.”

“He'll be fine.” Please don't let that fucking jinx anything…

Two sets of hands were better than one. A simple fact Yuu kept repeating until Jamil yielded again to their whims. Now they followed him around the house, helping to collect any stray articles that had their period blood on them. Jamil groaned lightly as he looked at the nest. He was aware every couch cushion was used to construct it, along with nearly every last clean pillow, towel, and bedding. But, he wouldn't be able to check if anything was dirty until the nest went away. A feat he wasn't going to perform himself since both Yuu and Malleus were fond of the structure.

So he picked the next best location of Yuu’s bedroom. A mistake on many parts, but he honestly expected no less…

He stared into the room, Yuu sheepishly standing beside him and refusing to look even vaguely in his direction. Jamil wasn't sure if the room was an absolute mess when the group had stormed the area on Saturday, but he could see it was the aforementioned dumpster fire he was expecting the rest of the house to be. Clothing was everywhere, a pair of patterned pj shorts on the ground with a darkened blood stain on the crotch, equally blood-spotted towels in a pile and bedding swirled around as though someone fought their way out. There were several empty bowls, snack wrappers, and juice bottles littering every surface, nearly twelve bottles were all on a single end table.

Jamil turned to Yuu, sighing deeply when they still refused to meet his eyes, “I'm not mad-”

“Yes, you are.”

“You're right, I'm furious. How do you let it get so bad?”

“In my defense…I haven’t been up here for a few days-”

“Yuu, I bought you that bottle of juice.” Jamil pointed to the bedside table, eyes locked on a half-empty bottle of a limited-edition flavor that both Kalim and Yuu had begged him to let them try, “That bottle has been here at least a week.”

“Look-”

“I am. That’s why I’m upset.”

“Let’s just clean this up and you can scold me later. Help me strip the bed.”

Jamil grumbled, looking at the floor and making a mental note to bring his cart upstairs to mop Yuu’s bedroom once she was distracted with Kalim again. While Yuu started to remove the numerous bottles from the side tables, Jamil grabbed the edge of a blanket and pulled it off the bed only to jump at the loud thud that followed. Both looked at the floor under the blanket Jamil had In his hands.

A jug. A half-full jug of bright blue liquid with a label consisting of cartoon-styled fruit and waves.

“...” Jamil grabbed Yuu before she could scurry away from him. Pointing at the juice container he tilted his head with a smile, “What is this? Because it surely can't be an entire gallon of juice. In your bed. Because that'd be insane, wouldn't it?”

“...I mean it's mostly empty-”

“Yuu.”

“It's not that bad! I get thirsty at night and sometimes I don't want to go all the way downstairs for a glass of water…”

Jamil jerkingly gestured to the ensuite bathroom, no more than four feet away from where they were both standing.

“Bathroom water is good, but kitchen sink water hits different, you know?”

“If I didn't love you…”

Jamil tried to keep quiet as they both stripped the bed. With every blanket and pillow removed, more and more items were revealed; half-eaten bags of chips, opened containers of cookies, more select bottles of juice and soda. The real kicker was the empty containers, each closed tightly to not let crumbs out onto the sheets.

Pulling out another package of cookies, Jamil cast a withering glare at Yuu, “Please tell me you aren’t teaching Kalim how to do this…”

Yuu laughed, waving off their boyfriend’s concern, “Oh, no. Bedrotting is way too advanced for him. He’d get crumbs everywhere just putting a plate on his bed.”

“At least we’re in agreement there…” He finally pulled the sheet off the bed, clicking his tongue at seeing his worst expectation. The number of towels and blankets still allowed the blood to reach the mattress, barely staining the cotton fabric top a dull red, but still visible, “Damn…How much do you bleed during this? You’ve been taking the iron supplements, right?”

“Yeah…” Yuu walked over, frowning at seeing they had stained their mattress, “I’ll be honest, I barely know what the normal amount to bleed is. It’s also lasting longer than normal though…”

“Hmm…” Jamil placed the folded sheet on the bed, moving to press his hands against Yuu’s face and neck as a means to check them over, “I’m only noticing it now, but you’re a little bloated. Is that part of it? Do you know how long it lasts? Bloating could be a sign of something else being wrong…”

Yuu smiles, placing their hands over Jamil’s and pulling them away, “Yes, the bloating is part of it. I’ll be fine once this hell week is over. I'm used to this only lasting like four days. The whole week is just cruel and unusual…”

“Four days?”

“Jesus. You said that like when I told you I’ve eaten belladonna berries as a child. The fuck are periods like here?”

“A lot less bloody for one…And not as long. Menses generally isn’t normal unless it’s after birth, and even then it’s fairly rare if done in a comfortable medical setting.”

“Is the word actually menses? Because that’s hilarious. The medical name for a period is called menstruation.”

“...‘Menses’ is the term for vaginal bleeding and discharge. The process is commonly known as ‘The Refresh’. Thinking it over it’s decently similar; the food cravings, agitated moods, lethargy. However, The Refresh lasts, at most, two days. Any longer than that and it’s a medical concern. I’ve never heard of the process being painful either…” Growing up with a younger sister and a household that had a revolving door of pregnant women made him more knowledgeable than he realized. 

“...” Yuu bit her lip, smiling and nodding their head as a mask to the spike of fury that coursed through them, “I will find out how to cast endometriosis and destroy nations…”

“What the fuck is endometriosis?”

“Something that’ll take out half you fuckers, but whatever.” Yuu sighed, flopping down onto the bare bed and letting themselves metaphorically puddle into the slab.

Jamil sat beside them on the mattress, running his hand along their back and massaging in small intervals, “The pain can get that bad…? How do you feel now? You don’t have it right, endometriosis? Or is it a phase of this?”

“Stop asking me questions, you’re worse than Riddle…” Yuu moved their face from the cotton top of the mattress, looking from the corner of their eyes at Jamil, “I don’t think I have it…cramps are just really bad but not like…to the point of ‘I need hospital attention bad’, I think…Periods are just sucky and I hate it.”

“Are there other ways to help? You aren't taking any more pain potions, right? You've been taking…a lot in a small amount of time…”

Yuu hums, reaching a hand to play with the end of Jamil's braid, “I mean…orgasms help with pain relief? But, Vil taught me a bunch of other stuff yesterday to help with the cramps. Plus just a nice soak in warm water does wonders…Jamil?”

“...” Shrugging his shoulders, Jamil slipped off the bed, “Eh, it's just blood.”

Yuu threw a questioning glance over their shoulder, “Wha-Jamil!?” She shrieked, being flipped onto her back. Raising up on her elbows, she sees Jamil kneeling between her now-opened legs.

The second-year smirks, his hands already massaging the tops of her thighs, “I'm down here all the time anyway. Might as well give you some relief.”

She sputters, smiling and trying to flip back over and cross her legs, “Oh, my god. You didn't even ask-” another tug pulls her closer to him and moving her hips over the edge of the bed and letting him kiss against their pelvic, “JAMIL!”

“Kalim, are you still in the kitchen? What have you been-...” Yuu froze in the archway of the kitchen, looking at the now-dressed small square table pushed against the wall.

Perking up from the freezer door, Kalim smiled, “Oh, hi Yuu! I just finished making the brownie ice cream sandwiches, but everything else is ready for lunch. Where's Jamil?”

“Washing his face. Kalim, did you order this food?” They pointed at the table, bewildered at the spread.

Sitting at the center of the table was one of their glass serving pitchers filled with juice, a platter of chicken tenders, and two smaller serving bowls of what looked to be mixed vegetables and mashed potatoes. There were placemats and proper dishware all set for three people. Yuu even noticed beside the pitcher was a napkin sloppily folded to look like a candle.

He frowns, folding his arms, “No? I made it! Since Jamil was so busy cleaning, I thought I would help out by making us lunch.” He smiled, closing his eyes with an expression that spoke of how proud he was of himself, “I made us girl dinner for lunch all on my own!”

Yuu opened their mouth, poised to correct the housewarden only for Jamil to appear behind her.

Jamil was gently yet insistently pushing Yuu away from the doorway, “You know I don't like you being in the kitchen while I cook.”

“You don't like anyone being in the kitchen when you cook. But, Jamil, look! Kalim made things…”

Looking at the table in silence, Jamil surveyed the dishes before turning to Kalim with a look of disappointment, “You know you're not supposed to open doors to let people inside.”

“I? I didn't order this? I made it!”

Jamil pointed to the table, brows furrowed and looking far too much like a frustrated mother, “You expect me to believe you made chicken tenders, by hand?”

Kalim opened his mouth but quickly closed it, looking to the side sheepishly, “I…ok, I didn't do that.” he gestured to the large fridge he was still standing by, “But Yuu had a bag of chicken tenders in her freezer that I put in the air fryer. I got the vegetables from a can and heated them up. And, I put three tablespoons of butter and garlic salt to taste in the instant potatoes.”

Yuu flitted their hands like an excited mother, smiling before pressing against Jamil to make sure he was listening to Kalim, “Tell him about the brownies. You said something about brownies.”

“Oh! Yeah. You had a container of brownies on your snack cart that were going out of date. So I was extra careful and cut them to make sandwiches with some ice cream I found.”

Kalim smiled, hands on his hips as he took his stance in pride again, “I made girl dinner all myself.”

“You didn't even make girl dinner, you just made dinner. Kalim! You cooked! All on your own!” Yuu rushed over, arms wrapping around his waist and lifting him up to spin him in the hug, “You cooked! I'm so proud of you!”

Laughing loudly, hugging Yuu back and nuzzling his head against her’s. He looks over, still smiling wide only to freeze and have his smile drop at seeing his friend’s expression, “...Jamil?”

The second Scarabia student was silent, staring at the table filled with food with a blank expression. His eyes seemed to scan every last dish on the table trying to find anything wrong. Possibly a visible flaw in the food or something to point to poisoning or poor preparation.

“...” Setting Kalim back down Yuu pats Jamil's chest, rolling her eyes and trying to help him to the table to sit, “He's just having a baby mental breakdown. Once he snaps out of it, he'll be just as proud. Let's eat!”

Jamil snapped back the second he bit into one of the tenders. He grabbed the platter, taking it back to the air fryer and placed half of them inside, “You put all of these in at once didn't you?”

“Yes? I put a lot in to make sure we'd have plenty to share!”

“Kalim, these weren't cooked properly…”

“Ah…My bad.”

Besides the small threat of salmonella poisoning, the rest of the day went peacefully. Both Yuu and Kalim tagged along as Jamil found more places to clean. They had managed to annoy him enough before they had even started the second load of laundry, tossing clothing and having a faux fashion show instead of folding, like Jamil had asked of them. So they were banished back to the lounge.

Jamil appeared again hours later, sighing and saying that all of Yuu's laundry was washed, dried, folded, and placed in their appropriate areas. He then plopped face-first into the nest, only moving enough to wrap an arm around Yuu's waist and groan that they were too messy to live alone. Prompting Kalim to once again offer to permanently house them not only in Scarabia, but his family's estate. An idea that was instantly vetoed on different fronts by the couple.

As the trio were just thinking of what to make for actual dinner, the front door opened. Lilia and Malleus entered the lounge, each pleasantly surprised to see their respective favorite Scarabia boy in the nest with Yuu.

Lilia lifted up a large carry bag with the logo of the Mostro Lounge, a smile on his face, “Good thing Floyd was in such a good mood today, he gave us extra on our order.”

Malleus was already in the nest, sharing a kiss with Yuu before tucking hair behind Jamil's ear to kiss his cheek, “Would you like to stay for dinner?”

Jamil didn't look up, but the tips of his ears had slowly turned red the second Malleus’s fingertips grazed across his cheek. Of any of them, he had yet to get used to Malleus’s almost spontaneous bouts of affection. He turned his head more into Yuu's thigh, praying it could hide the rosy tint of his cheeks, “We didn't have dinner plans yet, so…I don't see why not…”

Even after dinner, neither Scarabia boy was allowed to leave. The thought never crossed Kalim’s mind and Jamil was trapped under Malleus’s arm, the horned fae being more affectionate as an apology for threatening him on Monday. Lying between his two warmer-blooded lovers, arms locked around their waists to hold them close in a cuddle. Kalim and Lilia were crowded close, the two vibing to the low music from Kalim’s phone and drifting off to sleep.

Yuu hummed, nuzzling into Malleus’s chest, “This is nice…we should invite Azul to cuddle with us.”

Jamil reaches a hand up, eyes still closed as he presses a finger to Yuu's lips in a silent motion to be quiet, “Let's not traumatize him any more than he has been…”

Malleus frowns at Jamil, pouting as Lilia snickers, “I already apologized for scaring you both during our talk yesterday and Monday.”

“Also, why is me asking him to come cuddle a cause for fear?”

Opening his eyes, sighing and lifting his head from Malleus’s chest to raise an eyebrow, “You've noticed how he's almost going out his way to avoid being around you?”

Yuu shrugged, pouting and pressing her cheek harder against Malleus, “I just thought he was busy…”

Malleus looked to the side, remembering how squeamish and withdrawn the Octavinelle student was when discussing Yuu's period, “He was very…frightened the last I saw him. Your period seems to be a factor of intimidation for him.”

“Female caecilians are aggressive during mating season, enough so that they could potentially kill the male trying to mate with them.” Jamil groaned, rolling his eyes remembering the day's long talk he was magically spawned into, “It was why he nearly agreed with Malleus to jump-start your pregnancy vow…”

“I still believe I'm justified in my stance. Azul would also have nothing to fear if Yuu was already pregnant.”

“Malleus, we’ve talked about this, my period can still happen if I’m pregnant-”

Jamil snapped to glare at Yuu, “I’m sorry, what-”

 Yuu smiled, a hand moving to pat Jamil’s face to ‘calm’ him, “Anyway, since we’re talking about stuff that no one wants to talk about, what’s this about you almost killing Leona?”

“...” Malleus blinked, quirking his lip as he looked off to the side, clearly showing his disinterest, “Kingscholar was…fine the last I saw him.”

“And when was that?”

“A few…days ago?”

Jamil’s hard stare shifted to Malleus, “Was that a question?”

“I don’t tend to think much, of Kingscholar.”

Yuu snickered, “Don’t you mean about?”

“I don’t see the difference.”

[lxnarphase]

do you have any advice for new writers who want to start posting on tumblr?

Oh man, I'm gonna give you a list of things I wish I could've told myself when I first started posting.

Some Basic Tips:

Don't be scared to post! You'll never see growth in your followers, mutuals, and even your writing if you don't post!

Be open to asking others for help or advice if you struggle with writing. I sometimes ask some of my mutuals for help or read fanfiction to see how others write a scene. Then, I take the knowledge and write it in my own way. For example, I do well with writing dialogue but find myself always struggling with how to start the story.

Don't be afraid to post about non-writing things, too! Remember, you deserve to have fun on your account, so post what you want. You aren't a machine. You are a person!

The number of notes you get doesn't determine your worth or skill in writing. In my opinion, Tumblr has shifted a bit, making it harder for smaller writers to get likes, reblogs, or comments on their works.

But at the end of the day, in order to enjoy being a writing blog on Tumblr, you have to enjoy what you are writing and posting. Do not feel like you have to force yourself to write just for the numbers, let it happen naturally. Things will start out slow at first, as all things do, but you'll get to a point where you can barely keep up with things.

Post and Blog Formatting + Style:

Formatting is really important! Break up paragraphs, ask a friend to be a beta reader, and for longer works, go back and proofread if you have the time! It's okay if you have minor mistakes, though. I tend to miss things in my writing, and when I return a week later, I just fix them. No big deal!

Nowadays, aesthetics is HUGE for fanfiction posts and your account. Channel your creativity and style! Make your blog super pretty in your own way! It can be pink and cutesy, black and edgy, simple and clean, or colorful and cluttered! Don't have a blank blog!

PUT YOUR AGE CLEARLY SOMEWHERE! In your bio, pinned post, SOMEWHERE IT IS EASY TO SEE. I have had writing accounts follow me but no age, so I don't feel comfortable engaging with them.

You can take inspiration from other accounts (don't outright copy, though) on how they format their fanfictions. You will probably notice a lot of accounts have headers, dividers, or colored text. You can do that too, as it can catch the readers attention.

I get headers from doujins and mangas I read, websites such as Pinterest are good for cute ones, and Twitter is your go-to for more NSFW headers.

Create a tagging system to make navigating your blog easier, and have a pinned post with links to your rules/byf/masterlist/etc.

Try to put warnings in your writing. A lot of people have filters on to avoid the types of content they don't want to see, but there are the occasional people who don't put warnings in the writing post itself. It could be a simple tag or a list of themes at the beginning of the post.

An example would be a post with the tag #dubcon #tw dubcon OR putting "cw: dubcon" in the post itself before the writing itself.

This is a tag vs. in the actual post

Tagging and Reblogs

Speaking of tags, USE THE TAGGING SYSTEM! If you don't tag your post with popular fanfiction tags, it will be hard for people to find you.

Only the first twenty tags will show up in Tumblr search, including your own blog. Reblogs will not show up in tracked tags or searches.

However, don't feel bad for reblogging your own works again. Do it as many times as you want. You created something and should feel proud of it! I still reblog things from January just because.

Making Mutuals

Don't be afraid to engage with other accounts. That's how you make friends on here! But here's something important:

Be genuine. Make mutuals because you enjoy each other's work, AND both have fun talking with each other! If someone doesn't add you back as a mutual, that is okay; don't feel like they have something against you! Making mutuals shouldn't be your only goal when posting on Tumblr. Otherwise, you might tire yourself out mentally. It took me a while to make mutuals on here, but I'm glad it did it naturally instead of trying to force it.

Asks and Anons

Once you build a following, you will get the most wonderful, loving, and supportive anons in your inbox! Cherish them, respond to them, and have fun with them! Because there is a very high chance, you will also get assholes in your inbox.

I say this from the bottom of my heart but do NOT give hateful people your attention because that is what they thrive on. I still get them, but when I tell you I am at so much peace, I block and delete the messages and carry on.

If a certain message bothers me for a bit, then I just take a little break, talk to some friends about what happened, and do what helps me calm down so I don't act rashly. Don't be afraid to turn off anonymous messages for a while. This is YOUR blog, not theirs.

Don't feel pressured to answer every ask or fulfill every request. Take your time because that can burn you out! I love socializing so much, but sometimes I just pull a blank on how to respond to my asks. I always ensure my mutuals and followers know that I'm not ignoring them and just tend to go blank-brained with some asks, OR I save some of them to look at when I'm sad!

Overall, just start and DO IT FOR YOURSELF.

That's the best advice for when you want to make anything. You just have to start posting and learning and improving as you go on. Hopefully, this will sort of help. I know it's not the best list of advice, but it's just some things I would tell myself back when I first started.

If you have any other questions, I can try my best to answer them!

[subsystems]

hope sending ask is ok rn, i have hard time looking resource. looking for book how to co-exist with independent dissociative parts (have system but not feel safe in saying DID yet). cannot do therapist addressing parts yet but want to cope in daily life. hope can help. or others comment/reblog and give. thank you 🍀

This ask was sent a while ago, I hope you're doing okay now anon. You say you can't talk to a therapist yet but I hope you have someone else in your life who is supportive and you can talk to about these things! You shouldn't have to face this alone.

Even though you don't have therapeutic support, it's still possible to build up communication and cooperation with your parts. I reblog a lot of tips and resources to my coping tag if you want to check that out. Here are some other resources that you might find helpful:

DID/OSDD Self-help Masterlist There are so many resources here, categorized by different topics. You'll find stuff here for both survivors and loved ones, and you don't need to have DID/OSDD to use them!

Beauty After Bruises Blog You'll find so many articles here on coping with daily life as a dissociative survivor. I love how they're written, they feel very approachable and almost calming to read.

Dissociative Living Admittedly, I haven't read many of these articles but the few I've seen have been good. I think their writing is very approachable for people who are new to all of this.

DIS-SOS Lots of advice and informative articles on living with DID here -- in both English and German! I've found some really interesting and unique coping tips here, I definitely recommend it. It's actually because of this blog that I discovered one of my favorite methods of system communication.

CTAD Clinic Youtube Channel A channel run by the director of this clinic which specializes in dissociation and trauma. I've watched probably all of his videos -- they're very good! Lots of the videos provide tools and self-help tips on coping with dissociation & dissociative parts!

Carolyn Spring's Blog You'll find amazing articles here about trauma and dissociation, but do be aware that the author is both a professional and a survivor with DID herself. She isn't afraid to talk about her lived experience, shining a light on the reality of trauma and dissociation which can be confronting but oh-so empowering to read.

System Speak Podcast A podcast run by a DID system. She talks about her own healing journey as well as interviews professionals and dives into the psychology behind trauma and dissociation. Personally, I think the website is a bit hard to navigate but every podcast I've listened to has been extremely informative and relatable!

Self-help books can also be extremely useful if you don't have access to a therapist. You can find a bunch of free downloads here! I would recommend starting with "Got Parts? An Insider's Guide to Managing Life Successfully with Dissociative Identity Disorder" by ATW. Personally, I think this is the best book to start with. It's a bit old and there are some outdated ideas in it, but I think it's a very gentle entry into learning system communication and coping with DID if you have never worked with a therapist.

Some other resources that might be useful:

Strategies for coping with distressing voices

FREE 100 page e-book for trauma survivors

Talk/vent to listeners on this non-crisis support chat line

Apply for a grant to receive financial help or a therapy box -> (Also learn about the Therapy Box Project! If anyone is able to donate, please do!)

- Sunflower

[shdo-xplosion]

☼masterlist☼

02 <- ☼ -> 04

warnings: 1.6k, captivity, restraints, non-con, forced orgasms, forced lactation, fingering, exhibitionism/voyeurism, toys, fisting, gape, orgasm torture

notes: this one took me a while because i could not find a good place to write it ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) but here ya go! this is gross! (also i have zero experience with lactation, but this is sci-fi so let’s just pretend)

tags: @ssplague @makepastanotwar13 @kaidabakugou @kiarathace @kllrkitty @itachiwho @siempre-entre-dos-opciones-blog @clerdecat

let me know if you would (or would not) like to be tagged, but you must have your age somewhere visible on your blog!

You don’t know how long it is before Kat returns, no way to tell when it’s day or night (or even if this planet has days and nights, how long they may last). A different alien had come in some time ago to clean you, or so you assume. It had spread some sort of gel over the exposed parts of your body, the substance tingling then drying by itself.

The creature had also given you something, held a gun shaped object to your thigh, aimed right at your femoral artery, and shot you with what you guess to be sustenance considering the way your appetite was suddenly satiated.

Despite not feeling as drained as before, headache and stomach cramps having subsided, your heart drops when you see Kat walk in followed by two others that you vaguely recognize from when your crew had first arrived.

He thinks their names before you have to ask, and the closest you can get is Deku and Kiri. Both are even larger than Kat, a fact that makes you swallow nervously. He had told you he would find better ways to stretch you. Is this how? Are they going to…?

No. They’re just here to watch.

Also scary but not as bad as it could be.

Kat fiddles with the panel behind you again, tightening restraints, spreading your legs, just like last time. You already know that any struggling is useless, so you focus more on your breathing. In through the nose, out through the mouth.

The device on your chest has been active for some time, and though Kat doesn’t adjust anything on that, he does uncoil two clear tubes—the ones you saw attached to Kendou, and connects them to the smaller ones that sit right over your nipples.

I���ve never been pregnant… you won’t be able to get anything from me, you try, knowing damn well that pregnancy isn’t the only way to induce lactation.

I’m sure we’ll get plenty, Kat thinks with a huff.

You feel the machine initiate a light suction that makes you bite your lip, and when Kat walks around you to take up his place between your legs, you can see the smirk on his face.

A new set of tools is brought out this time, similar balls and speculum but other items that vary in size. They look very similar to a certain kind of toy you used to pleasure yourself with at home, except you never tried to use anything as big as some of these. Two of the oblong shapes look doable, but after that they start to get… intimidating.

You tense at the first touch, fingers tracing up and down your folds.

You either relax now or I make you, he tells you. Threatens you, more like.

You don’t doubt him. He learned how to unravel you last time, and judging by the way his finger lightly circles your clit, he retained all that information.

He teases for a little while, speaking to his comrades in their native tongue. Part of you wishes you could understand what he’s saying while another part is glad you can’t. Who knows what he’s telling them about you and your pussy?

You want to cry when you feel yourself throb, know that Kat can feel your wetness when he pushes a finger into your heat.

Like I told you… relaxed. He must be referring to the way your legs stop trembling.

It doesn’t feel good, doesn’t feel good, you repeat more to yourself than to him. Natural reaction, biological response. You need these reminders. You need to know that it isn’t the alien who’s making your skin hot, making you want more.

Kat adds another finger, scissors them, pulls out only to stretch your hole with different digits. He grunts something and you hear heavy footsteps, the other two creatures coming closer in order to watch, to look inside of you.

You clench your muscles as if it’ll do anything to hide your intimacy, but all it does is make the first bit of slick leak out of you. All three aliens make curious noises, something more appreciative coming from Kat when he rubs a finger through your folds, gathering the liquid.

To your horror, he raises his finger to his face to sniff it, examining it for a moment before poking his forked tongue out and licking it.

Deku and Kiri are suddenly shouting at him in alarm. Maybe they think it’s poison, a defense mechanism. That’s an amusing idea.

Taste good, Kat thinks, and you’re horrified at the pleasure that rolls through you. You don’t want him to enjoy the taste. Fuck, what if it makes him want to eat you?

I just might. His mouth is lifted up on one side, the edge of a fang poking out.

He uses the speculum first, stretching you slowly, so slowly, until your hole is opened wide enough for him to slide one of the long shapes inside of you. There’s even room to spare, prompting him to switch the tool for a bigger one. You feel the speculum against your walls rather than the insert, but that changes when Kat removes both to replace them with the next size up.

You moan, eyes squeezed shut. This is all I can take, you think to yourself. I can’t fit anything bigger.

Yeah, you can.

Kat moves the tool in and out of you, fucking you with it as your noises rise in volume and pitch. Oh, it feels good. It feels too good, and it only gets better when he flicks your clit. Your arousal streams down your folds and ass followed by squirt when Kat begins moving faster.

“Fuck fuck fuck.” It comes out as a whisper. You don’t want any of them to hear. Not that it matters since they—or at least Kat—knows what you’re thinking.

Another, girthier tool (at this point you feel they’re more like toys) takes the other’s place, and tears prick your eyes as you feel your flesh stretch even more. You have no idea how wide your hole is at this point, but you do know you’ve never had something this big inside of you. You also know you’ve never experienced the sensation you’re feeling in your tits.

Kat has enough understanding to go slowly, keep working your muscles and not just shove into you. You’re embarrassingly wet, letting the toy slide in and out of you with ease, and soon you’re even trying to buck into it.

You’re close to an orgasm. You can feel it building inside of you. And then it disappears when Kat stops pumping, leaving the tool inside of you and watching as you whimper and clench around it.

Push it out, he commands. I wanna see your cunt work.

You whine out loud and sniffle, unable to mask your shameful thought: but I don’t want it out of me.

Push it out and I’ll make you cum.

Bearing down as best you can, you groan and push, again feeling how large the object is as it slowly slides out of you. When it falls between your legs you let out a sob, inhaling raggedly when Kat touches you again. Fingers delve inside of you but it’s only to open you up. No part of his hands are touching, and though you can’t see what he sees, you know you must be stretched obscenely wide.

The three aliens peer into your guts, and you’ve never felt more exposed. You’re morbidly curious at your state, what Kat has done to your pussy, and in a silent answer to your question he releases your folds and begins pushing fingers into you. Two… three… four… oh god, five… and you take another without issue. You must be gaping, loose enough to—Christ, he starts fisting you. His whole hand is inside of you, making squirt splash out of your cunt. The way your body greedily takes what he’s giving you is absurd, and the way it makes you climb closer to your peak is even more so.

Wanna feel you clench around me. Can you do that?

You nod, back arching. He’s literally bruising your insides, and you’re loving it.

When you cum, it’s like nothing you’ve ever experienced. Your hole opens wider as if begging for Kat to push further, and a geyser of fluid sprays from between your legs. At the same time, you feel a tightness in your nipples as milk is pushed from them. Your jaw drops open in awe as you watch the white droplets get sucked up the tubing attached to you. He was right. It actually worked.

Could play with your cunt all day, Kat thinks as you take a shuddering breath. I think I might.

You feel weak as you raise your head to look at him, your face sticky with drying tears. I don’t…

He wiggles his fingers inside of you, cutting off any argument you thought you had.

There’s no way to tell how long he’s there with you, long enough for Kiri and Deku to grow bored and leave, but Kat stays, making you cum again. And again. And again.

The table is drenched and so are you and so is he, your juices dripping down his chest and into his lap. You cry and beg him to stop, so lightheaded, so sore. Every orgasm is paired with lactation. The first couple climaxes only produce drops at a time, but eventually you’re spewing enough milk to coat the tubes. All you want to do is hold your tender breasts, cover your nipples and soothe them, but it’s not an option. Instead Kat just keeps making you cum, keeps milking you, until all that’s left for you to do is pass out.

2023©️shdo-xplosion. please do not plagiarize or repost my work to any other platforms.

[hwanghyunjinenthusiast]

Kinkuary Day 1

AN: Bouncing off my walls in excitement. Happy New Year, and welcome to Kinkuary! Starting off the month with San, one of the biggest thorns in my side when it comes to Ateez. I've been itching to write something royalty related for him, and this was the perfect opportunity.

Synopsis: The crown prince is beloved by everyone in the kingdom far and wide. Unfortunately for him, you don't share that same fondness. However, that may be exactly why he seeks you out.

General tags and warnings: Choi San x Fem! Reader, one-sided enemies to enemies who fuck, royal au, no specific time period is mentioned but, it's heavily implied this takes place pre-20th century, prince! San, maid! Reader, one mention of decapitation in relation to treason, blood mentioned a few times, pretty minimal plot and I think that's it honestly.

Primary kink: Degradation.

Smut tags and warnings: Dom! Reader, sub! San, degradation ((duh) m. receiving), dirty talk, oral sex (f. receiving), clawing and marking (m. receiving), hair pulling (m. receiving), hints of a dacryphilia kink, piv sex without a condom, creampie and no aftercare.

Word count: 3.9k

I will block you if you are a minor and/or have no easily visible indication of your age on your blog if you interact with me in any way.

It wouldn't be hyperbole to state that everyone in the kingdom loves Choi San.

In all the books and scraps of paper you've managed to get your hands on over the years, you're not sure you've ever come across a royal who has inspired more loyalty and adoration than the current crown prince. Not even the King and Queen who currently hold the throne. You'd never speak these thoughts out loud (you're much too fond of your head remaining attached to your shoulders) but, you think if he ever tried to make a claim for the throne that he'd have a solid portion of the kingdom willing to back him.

That's not the kind of man San is, though.

He's much too kind and honourable to let greed cloud that heart that so many people are in love with. No, he's the kind of prince that will do all of his duties while supporting his parents' reign. He'll patiently await his turn to sit atop that ghastly golden glorified chair like the good little princeling he is. And you're certain that when he does, the cheering through the streets will be so loud that it'll ring in your ears for decades.

It all makes you so sick.

You can't stand the way everyone falls all over themselves when he so much as nods in their direction with a gentle smile. You can't stand the stammers of thanks and praise from the lips of fellow royals to commoners such as yourself when he compliments this or that about them with so much earnestness that bile rises up in your throat. You can't stand the sincerity that sparkles in his eyes during his impassioned speeches about making the lives of his subjects better. You can't stand him.

It takes everything in you to stop yourself at clenching the fabric of your uniform and biting your tongue so hard that you sometimes taste the familiar tang of metal in your mouth when you know you've clenched your jaw too hard. Yunho says it's a bad habit you've developed over the years. He's never understood your disdain for the prince but, he doesn't need to. No one does. That's between you and yourself, and no one else.

Until it isn't.

If someone had told you months ago that you'd find yourself in the crown prince's bed, you would have laughed in their face. No, you likely would have slapped them across their face enough for your palm to burn and then laughed in their face like a woman possessed.

Any yet, here you are.

Or, to be more accurate, here he is.

In the most private parts of your mind you have been able to admit that San is an attractive man. Being in the same room as him is enough to cause your blood to simmer and bubble in your veins but, you are still a woman with eyes and a functioning libido. Between his muscles that seem to span endlessly and his handsome face, yeah. San is a good-looking man. And you suppose you're not above giving into your baser needs.

“You're late,” you drawl atop his bed, toying with the blanket beneath you. You try not to think about how just one of his sheets would likely keep your family fed for at least two weeks. Shoving that particular, unpleasant thought aside, you watch him from your position.

“My apologies. The meeting ran later than I expected. You know how my father can be–” if only the entire nation could see their precious crown prince rolling his eyes at the mere mention of his father.

“I don't care. Don't be late again,” you cut him off sharply, your eyes cutting into him far more harshly than your words ever could.

From the way he folds into himself and practically sags against his enormous bedroom door, you can tell he's already slipped into the self ascribed role he takes during these…encounters the two of you have.

“I won't be. I'm sorry,” ah, there's that whiney edge in his voice that you've become accustomed to over these past few months. He's slipping into it much quicker recently. The thought brings an edge of sadistic glee to you, the corners of your lips turning up just the slightest bit.

“Make sure the door is locked,” you order, drinking in the way he all but, jumps at your command. Sometimes, you think you understand why people wage wars and betray family members for just a drop of power. It is intoxicating. You've come to understand over these months why some people spend their entire lives grappling for it. Your ambitions aren't that grand, however. You don't care for sitting on the throne or ruling a nation. Having San at your beck and call is more than enough to feed your ego, you think.

Drinking in the way his jacket stretches across his broad frame as he locks his door makes your blood simmer in a way that is categorically different from normal. When he turns back around, his eyes already glossy, you can't help the way desire claws horribly at your insides and your walls throb.

“It's locked,” is all he says, the breathy quality to his voice not helping the gradually building ache between your thighs in the slightest. For a long moment, all you do is regard him. Ideas of what to do next rotate in your mind. You shift marginally, making yourself more comfortable on his mountain of silks and cotton. You don't miss the way his eyes follow your every movement, taking a second too long to depart from your thighs before they meet your eyes once again. Waiting.

He's so predictable that it reminds you why you despise him all over again.

“Take off your jacket,” you start simply, lounging on his bed while he complies. His jacket dropping unceremoniously onto one of his ridiculously ornate chairs. His shirt is so much worse than his jacket. Barely leaving anything to the imagination with the way it hugs his broad chest and clings to his arms in a way that prompts your thighs to rub against each other.

The air between the two of you is tense. The density of it is a phantom weight on your chest. You can't recall a single time where the air wasn't charged between the two of you even if your life depended on it. As Yunho likes to joke, you do have a knack for thriving in the most uncomfortable circumstances.

You elect to break it. Rather than for the poor princeling’s benefit, you can already feel your undergarments starting to stick to you and it's been longer than you care to think about since you last had a decent night of sex.

“I want you to crawl to me,” you say, tilting your head in the faintest bit of amusement at the light blush that colours his cheeks. You've made him do much, much worse but, for a moment you wonder if he'll hesitate, if not full on decline. The knife of arousal twists harshly in your gut when he drops down without so much as another glance from you. Your lips part unconsciously as you watch him make his way towards you. His gaze is later focused on his path, not that you mind all that much. You're much too busy following the lines of his firm body. Watching fluid muscle that pebbles your nipples beneath your nightgown and increases the steady heat in your bloodstream.

It's not long before he's mere centimetres away from your legs. Glassy, eager eyes finally finding your own when he eventually sits on the backs of his legs. Ever the good boy. Awaiting your directions with no signs of complaint or visible signs of frustration.

Well, signs he can control at the very least.

“You're already hard?” You both know your question is rhetorical. The tent at the front of his dress pants is visible from the mountains of The Healm. No, he knows you don't want an actual answer.

“I can't help it,” he whispers, his ears burning and you don't miss the way his hands clench and unclench on his firm thighs.

“What would people say,” you start, shifting closer to the edge of his bed. His eyes following your every movement like a hawk, his tongue darting out to lick his pretty mouth, “If they saw their precious prince like this? Crawling on his bedroom floor and getting hard just because I've been a little mean to him. How embarrassing.”

The shudder that rips through his entire body is intoxicating.

“Even worse, what if they all knew how much you like being embarrassed,” you continue, tugging your gown further up your thighs. More of your wetness dribbling out of you as you watch his eyes zero in on the apex of them. The whine that leaves his lips would be barely audible to anyone else. However, you're not just anyone when it comes to San.

“Look at you,” you bite out but, part of you knows it doesn't quite sound as intimidating as you'd like it to, “sitting there and panting like a fucking dog just because I'm letting you see my undergarments.”

A smirk spreads across your lips and you can't help the way your pussy flutters around nothing watching his eyes clamp shut and his teeth sink into his bottom lip. “I'm sorry. I'm–I just–,” he stammers, “It's been awhile,” he rushes out once his brain seems to finally piece itself back together.

“Aw,” you don't miss the way he shudders at the faux sympathy in your voice, “Poor, little princeling. Probably already leaking all over yourself just because it's been a few weeks since I've let you touch me,” you pout. Satisfaction coils in you watching the blush on his cheeks darken, fingers gripping his thighs like a lifeline.

However, as fun as it is to toy with him, you can't deny that you've been frustrated these past few weeks too. You'd sooner move kingdoms than admit this aloud but, your hand was a poor substitute for the prince's mouth and, occasionally, cock. Your fingers could get you there well enough on their own but, they paled starkly in comparison to him.

Much to your growing dismay.

San doesn't move. He doesn't even seem to breathe once your gown is bundled over your waist. Leaving your wet undergarments completely clear for him to view. He just stares. Hands gripping his thighs so harshly that if you cared about him, you may have been a little concerned. The dazed look in his eyes prompts your walls to flutter harshly without your consent.

His breathing is ragged as he watches you shimmey out of them. His eyes never leaving the apex of your thighs even as your undergarments drop unceremoniously on his pristine bedroom floor that you cleaned earlier in the day.

“Well?” You ask with a tilt of your head, spreading your thighs wider and pushing down a shiver when the cool night air hits your slick folds, “What are you waiting for? Do I really need to spell out what I want you to do next?”

“N–No,” he stammers out, shuffling forward so quickly that he's between your thighs in a blink. Your hand weaves into his hair as soon as his mouth descends onto you. You may not be able to stand the man hungrily lapping at you right now but, fuck is he fantastic with his mouth. Eager doesn't even begin to describe him. In moments, his mouth is thoroughly coated with your wetness, the vibrations from his moans further adding to the tightening in the pit of your stomach.

He only moans louder when you tug on his hair harder, your fingernails biting into his scalp sharply. He happily let's you shove him further against you. Latching onto your clit in an instant that briefly causes your vision to blur around the edges. God, he really may have ruined all other men for you. Your eyes flutter shut when his tongue, that fucking tongue of his, adds pressure. Licking patterns against your clit you couldn't decipher if your life depended on it.

“Ah, this is all you're good for,” you breathe out, using your unoccupied hand to tug down your gown to grab your breast, “Kneeling between my thighs while I use you.”

The smile his whimper brings out of you is sharp enough to cut glass.

Your hips jump when you pinch your nipple, a quiet moan ripping from your throat. Which motivates the little prince further. He sucks on your swollen clit in earnest, smearing the entire bottom half of his face with your juices as though they're his only source of hydration and he hasn't had a drop of water in decades. You're sure if you let him touch you, he'd use those stupid muscles of his to keep you locked in place while he feasts on you. Making you take all his mouth has to offer.

The thought makes your head spin and your hold on his scalp grows harsher. If the pain of your nails is too much for him, the prince doesn't show it. Electing instead to cling to your clit like it's the most important thing in the world to him. You're closer than you thought, you realise when another one of his pathetic whimpers forces your thighs to start quivering. Well, quivering more than they already were.

Cracking your eyes open proves to be a fatal mistake when you catch his watery eyes watching you. Drinking in every twitch of your brow, every pull and knead of your breast, every moan that slips past your bruised lips from when your teeth had sunken into them. He watched it all as if to commit every miniscule twitch of your muscles to memory. And those scorching eyes don't waver now. Even as your grip burns his scalp and you all but, ride his face to bring yourself closer to the metaphorical edge.

That's ultimately what does you in. Much to your ever growing irritation.

Not that you focus on it too much when your body feels as though it's floating somewhere amongst the stars. He continues to lap at you, albeit more subdued. Each brush of his tongue extending the shock waves that render your body limp on his too expensive sheets. You're sure that if he had his way, he'd continue to mouth at you until his jaw ached. Although that does sound like a wonderful way to spend your evening, you have other ideas in mind.

“Enough,” you bite, tugging him away from you once you regain some semblance of feeling in your limbs. He whines in protest but, otherwise doesn't disobey you. Letting you pull him away from your twitching hole and pulsing clit. The sight of him already looking thoroughly fucked out making you clamp down harshly around nothing. The emptiness is starting to burn.

“Take off the rest of your clothes,” you order once you release him. The prince is nothing if not efficient. Stripping himself in what you can only assume is some record. On the endless list of things you'll never admit to anyone until you die, one them is that just the sight of his scalped torso is enough for you to start dribbling onto your undergarments. And now, watching his tan skin and muscles he's spent years crafting bathed in the moonlight, you know you're doomed.

Your body reminds you very quickly that you're still empty and the solution to that emptiness is twitching not too far away from you.

San watches you like a hawk as you recline onto his bed, your head resting on his mountain of pillows while your thighs remain spread. Smeared with your release and his spit.

“Would you like to fuck me, Your Highness?” You ask him, resting your cheek against your palm and biting back a smile when his cock bobs notably at your question. A question you both know the answer to but, it does wonderful things for your ego every time to ask it.

“Yes but, only if My Lady wishes it,” he whispers faintly but, he still manages to find the courage to meet your eyes. It makes you just a bit more mad how attractive he looks now with bruised, glistening lips and a faint blush colouring his cheeks. God, he's so annoying.

“I'm strawn out on your bed, am I not?” You ask him with a raise of your brow, your tone clearly questioning his intelligence but, based on the way his cock twitches, he's obviously into that too. Typical.

“Y–Yes, My Lady but, I didn't want to be presumptu–”

“Do I really need to tell you how to do everything? You can help run a kingdom but, all sense seems to leave you when tasked with fucking a woman. How pathetic,” you bite out, a twinge of sadistic glee twisting in your gut when he avoids your gaze and his flush deepens, “Come here.”

You snort when he nearly trips over himself in his haste to reach his bed. Shuffling between your thighs before you can blink but, not moving an inch beyond that. His body is practically vibrating with the effort it's taking him to not touch you without your say so. Cute.

“I really have done a good job with you, haven't I?” You ask more to yourself than him as your hand caresses his chest. Your pussy pulsing when a sharp gasp leaves his lips as you dig your nails into his skin. Dragging them along his body and marvelling at the faint, pink lines they leave. “To think,” you start once again while your fingers toy with one of his nipples, “the crown prince would become my own personal bitchboy,” you mutter, twisting his nipple between your fingers and revelling in the moan the action and your words rip from him.

“Please,” he whimpers so quietly that you don't catch it at first. However, once the word registers in your foggy brain, you grab his face. Cupping it and letting your nails dig into his cheeks, satisfaction and arousal coursing through your veins. You try not to do this too often. You don't need the palace gossiping and asking questions about the marks on the prince's face. However, sometimes you just can't help yourself.

“Please what?” You ask, the saccharine edge to your voice makes him shake in your grasp. Good.

“I want–may I please f–fuck you?” He pleads, tears welling up in his eyes and, Lord, does this all make you dribble onto his sheets even more.

“Aw, poor, desperate princeling,” you coo with pseudo sympathy. Your hand drifts from his face to the apex of your thighs. You watch his face while he watches your hand as though it possesses knowledge not even Galileo could have discovered. A soft curse flits into your ears when your fingers touch your swollen, soaked folds. The curse is more harsh this time when you spread yourself for him to see, to marvel at.

“Is this what you want, your highness?”

“Yes,” he rushes out, his body curling into itself with how much his desire weighs down on him, “I–please. I've been good and it's been so long,” he pleads, turning those watery eyes onto you once again.

“Go ahead. Let's see if you can impress me,” is all you need to say for him to grasp his slick cock in his trembling hand and guide it to your fluttering entrance. You're too preoccupied with watching him push into you to know what the prince is doing but, you have an inkling he's watching himself be swallowed by your walls too.

You'll never give him the satisfaction of knowing how good the stretch of his thick cook feels but, you can't stop your eyes from fluttering and your hands from anchoring themselves across his stupidly broad back. The prince isn't one for reservations, however. He moans long and loud once he's finally sheathed inside of you. His sweaty forehead resting against your shoulder while his cock twitches nonstop inside of you.

“All it took was being inside me for a few seconds for you to become this weak? Isn't this a little too sad even for you, my prince?” You whisper against the shell of his ear, biting down on his lobe and smiling when all he can respond with are pitchy whimpers for a moment.

“I–I'm–I'm trying,” he grits out against your skin, thrusting into you before you can spit out another response. San is a fucking machine once he's finally given permission. You don't consciously cling to him but, you rake across his back nonetheless. The pain just pushes him further. The sounds of skin hitting skin echo throughout his disgustingly large bedroom and, if you had the presence of mind to care, you may have worried that someone could hear the two of you.

All of his little whines and moans shoot straight down to your clit not unlike lightning. However, just as you're starting to enjoy finally getting a decent, thorough pounding, it ends just as quickly as it started.

Your eyes fly open when all you receive in warning is a strangled whimper of your name before copious amounts of warmth flood your slick walls. San shudders harshly over your body. His cock throbs with each rope of cum that paints your pussy white. He must've been just as pent up as you, you reason but, it doesn't stop the white-hot disappointment that you feel. You stare up at the maurel Hongjoong had painted for him ages ago while he tries to stop himself from crushing you with his weight as his seed starts to leak out of you.

“I'm sorry,” he mutters into your throat, strong hands rubbing your thighs in what you assume to be apology, “I could–I couldn't help it,” he squeaks. He's blushing so hard that you're certain the heat radiating off him raises your body temperature.

“Disappointing as always. Nothing new,” is all you say in response, shoving him off of you and standing on unsteady legs. He reaches out to help you but, must see something in your face that tells him not to touch you. So, he doesn't. He watches as you make your way into his washroom. Ugh, other than letting him touch you, the clean up is probably the most annoying part of these little meetings.

Once you've cleaned yourself up enough that the prince's seed isn't dribbling onto your thighs, you exit his unnecessarily ornate bathroom. Met with the sight of him still naked and lounging on his bed, waiting for you.

“We can go again,” he offers sincerely, “If you'd like to, of course.”

You resent the way your clit throbs at the offer.

“I'm fine. I think I'll retire for the night,” you respond, picking up your discarded undergarment from the ground and slipping it on. Only just managing to hold back from cringing at the cool wetness that meets your skin. The prince looks like he wants to say something. To argue. However, nothing comes.

“Well then, goodnight. I look forward to our next…encounter,” he finally replies once the words find him. A different man. This is the prince you're more accustomed to outside of his bedchambers.

You nod before turning to face his door. Slinking into the darkness of the hallways and hoping no one sees you leaving the crown prince's personal chambers at this hour.

Reblogs are greatly appreciated.

Do not repost, edit, copy and/or translate my work. I do not give you my permission to do so, nor will you ever receive it.

Kinkuary 2024 Masterlist | Ateez Masterlist | Ko-Fi.

[jakegasm]

again. part two. | jake sully

genre: angst ♧ , fluff ♡

pairing: jake sully x omatikaya!reader (mentions of neytiri and tsu’tey) 

word count: 2.9k

warnings: none! yay!

brief info: jake has noticed your closeness with tsu’tey and can’t stand for that. Won’t say too much bc it’ll give it away sooooo enjoy! 

notes: i want to thank all those who gave their ideas for this second part, I tried to include everyone's ideas so forgive me if I did;t use your idea. But yeah you know who you are, thank you so much I LOVE YOU ALL!!

*not proofread so there may be shit loads of grammar issues in here*

tag list🤍:

- @almighty-raiden-shogunate , @agustdeeyaa , @hangezoes-wife , @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed , @hangezoes-wife, @itwasntreal, @atokirina-writings, @ricecakeslove, @petrasdesire

there are more of you that are supposed to be on this list but tumblr told me they couldn't find your blog T-T so I have sent those who I couldn't tag a message! and also if I didn't tag you and said that I would please forgive me there were a lot of you to remember T-T

He was annoyed. At least that’s what it seemed to be to Neytiri.

 A certain aggressiveness to his movements while he used his knife to sharpen the point of his arrow, his arms flexing more than usual. His eyes stayed fixed on something causing a sharpness to be held within them. Neytiri watched her “mate” from afar, his frustration now leaking out of him and into her. Eyes slowly followed his line of vision falling upon a soon-to-be-mated pair. 

You and Tsu’tey. 

Seeing the two interact with each other always made her suspicions rise. The both of you never spoke to one another, yet now you two were destined to be mated. Tsu’tey was a hunter, you a tsahik. Both of you served in different social groups, not once interacting with each other, not even a glance. None of it made sense. It all happened too fast. Too sudden. She often pushed her personal feelings aside deeming it was not her place to have a voice in the matter, though this was a struggle to contain as she watched her “mate” continuously be irritated by their presence. Perhaps something happened with Tsu’tey? She thought. Jake and Tsu’tey often hunted in the same party, looking back the two had a rough introduction to each other, so a quarrel happening between the two wasn’t too alarming. 

Gently she placed her knife down next to the leaf she used to cut up some fruit for dinner later on, she let out a puff of air rising from her seat making her way towards the man who she swore had steam radiating off of him from how much he was fuming. 

“They are lovely aren’t they?” her voice snapping his head towards her, eyes wide. A giggle bubbled up seeing his reaction, though she covered her mouth quick enough to suppress its escape. His face relaxed, only for a second though as his previous frustrated expression soon after. Head looking back down at the work of his arrow, bringing a finger up to the point and testing the sharpness of it.  “Yeah. I’m happy for them,” he grunted out, his frustration no longer trying to be masked. He was not happy. Not even a little. He actually hated–no despised the new couple. 

Loud laughter rang out just loud enough for him to hear, pushing his ears back toward the sound. You were laughing. Quickly he took a chance to catch a glimpse of you, you had tears in your half-closed eyes, your hand resting on Tsu’tey’s arm for support as you hunched over laughing at whatever he just told you. Jake held his breath briefly behind pursed lips to steel himself against the glee of your laughter. He fought the strong urge to go over to you and take you away from him, he wanted you to laugh at him like that. Only him. He had to do something about this and he had to do it quickly. Now. Before, he lost you for good. Except he found himself glued to his seat, his body refusing to move. His heart told him to go, but his brain kept him in place.

“You wish to speak with her don’t you?” Sighing Jake closed his eyes leaning forwards, resting his arms on his legs. 

“If she doesn’t want to speak to me, that’s fine. She doesn’t have to” A pair of soft hands clasped themselves around his making his eyes slowly open, his eyes meet a pair of delicate ones filled with so much reassurance. 

“You are wrong. So very wrong.” His eyebrows bunched together in confusion at her statement. Her face wore a smile that he couldn’t quite comprehend. 

“You need to make amends. Talk to her before it is too late. You may not get this chance again.” 

Slowly he straighten his posture, his hands still residing with her own, his face jumbled together. Where was this coming from? Could she be hinting at a particular feeling he has tried so hard to subside during their time together? Did he really make it that obvious? She continued.

“That night. I heard you two. I followed her, my curiosity getting the best of me. To my surprise, I found you with her trying to console her, comfort her, treasure her. It was clear to me then…and even now.” Reaching up she rested one of her hands upon his cheek, her thumb rubbing soothingly across the bone of his cheek, her smile never dropping nor changing. 

“You were made for her, not me. I cannot take you away from her. I will not. All I ask and wish for my sister is happiness, her happiness is mine…and you Jake Sully,” she paused, bringing her other hand to the other side of his face, her hands now fully holding his face.

“Are her happiness. Our happiness.” 

~~~~

He tossed and turned, seemingly not able to get comfortable quickly as he usually did. Everyone was already fast asleep, including Neytiri that rested beside him in their shared hammock. Her chest rising and falling slowly with every breath she took contentment resting in her face, she looked…peaceful. Her words from earlier filled his head, much so causing his restlessness. 

“You Jake Sully are her happiness. Our happiness.” 

Her words confused him, yet at the same time, they made so much sense. She was giving her blessing to him. But why? He was her “mate” – well soon to be. The two never quite found the time nor the need for it to happen. They were simply going along with the punchline for her mother. Putting on a show if he would describe it as such, though that’s very much so of what it was. His heart had belonged to you and always you. Though, your mother deemed you were not fit for the role to be the mate of Toruk Makto. It angered him seeing the way your mother treated you at times as if you didn’t have a mind or even a conscious of your own. He knew your mother loved you deeply he just thought she had one hell of a way of showing it. 

Carefully he swung his body out of the hammock, moving and stepping as quite as possible watchful enough to not move too much to prevent waking Neytiri. Successfully, he made his way out of their–the shared hut taking a route he knew too well seeing he’d always go here on sleepless nights like this one. 

Pushing plants and leaves out of his face as he passed through he could hear the splashing of water along with the smell of crispy water, a smile slowly creeping up on his face. Pushing more leaves out of the way he made his way toward the small pond picking up a little speed on the way. The abrupt softness under his foot stopped him in his tracks, glancing down he noticed a loincloth and familiar teal beaded top, his heart sped up as he recognized who this belonged to. The sound of humming broke him away from the clothes, his eyes being directed to the sound as if he was being enchanted and put under a spell, quietly he tucked himself behind a rather large leaf. 

There you were. The moon shined perfectly on you. Water glistening on your skin making it look softer than ever. Your hair was wet and slicked back while you occupied yourself with your humming, eyes closed and the most beautiful smile on your face. He felt the air being sucked out of him the more he watched you, you were so ethereal looking. Too heavenly to be real. He was snapped out of his trance to the sound of gasping, his heart picking up pace for a different reason now. He was caught. Almost instantly you covered yourself, sinking deeper into the water your face just above the water. 

“What are you doing here?” You shrieked. He opened and closed his mouth probably resembling a fish out of water gasping for air as he struggled to find a correct explanation for her. Instead, he just slapped a hand over his eyes while his other hand held out in front of him as he slowly emerged from behind the leaf. 

“I didn’t see anything, I swear.” He was nervous, so nervous he could feel himself sweating. Hearing the splashing and crashing of the water he assumed you were getting out and waited a few more seconds before peeking through his fingers to see you in front of him tying the knot back on your loincloth. Removing his hand from his face he watched as you readjusted your clothing back on your body, your hair falling alluringly in front of your face. His hand itched to fix it though he refrained curling it into a ball at his side. 

“Announce yourself next time. The water is all yours now.” You were quick to walk away from him, a pang running through his chest as you refused to look at him as you spoke rather coldly to him. His body moved before his mind could comprehend what he was doing. You came to an abrupt stop, his body now blocking your path huffing you crossed your arms over your damped chest. 

“Out of the way.”He stood frozen. Your face grew irritated more and more by the second. 

“I said out of my way, Sully. I must  leave before Tsu’tey grows suspicious of my absence.” 

“I can’t let you do that.” He finally breathed out, his nerves now all jumbled up. 

“Why not?” The annoyance in your face twisted something in his chest. You were never this cold towards him, though he couldn’t blame you for it. This was all his fault. 

“I need–I want to talk about…about us.” 

He watched the cold demeanor on your face break a little, but it quickly covered your face again except now it was colder than before. You scoffed looking at him in disbelief. 

“What are you talking about? There is no us Jake. There never has been. So, there is nothing for us to discuss.” Again you tried to make your way around him but again you were caught. 

He wasn’t letting you go that easily. He needed something to keep you here with him, he needed to tell you the truth. Biting his lip he cursed at himself for what was about to come out of his mouth. 

“I love you.” 

Silence. 

You stood there in front of him your back towards him, your feet glued to the soft grass where you two stood. Your heart paced fast, too fast it felt like it would explode out of your chest. He felt the same except his heart paced out of worry, fear that you had gotten over your feelings and that he was a little too late. Little by little you turned yourself around to face him, his eyes frantic and desperate for you to say something. Anything. 

“What?” You exhaled out a shaky breath, your vision becoming blurry. 

“I said that I love you.” His voice was more serious now. Straightening up his posture he poked out his chest a little to show his seriousness. Your small frame coward shoulders slumped and your breathing became ragged. It felt like that night all over again and it was becoming too much for you. 

“You do not mean that. You are saying these words to me to make things right. I will not fall for it this time Jake.” You sucked in a sharp breath as you felt a sob getting ready to rip through you and out of your mouth. “I cannot let you do this to me again.”

“I am happy. The happiest I have ever been. Tsu’Tey has taught me what love should and should not be. He–He has taught me that I need to love myself before I can give all my love to you.” You shook. Hard. You were crumbling right before him and all he wanted to do was hold you and tell you everything would be okay and that they’ll work through it. He slowly lifted his hands to your face that rested in a downward position, cupping your face in his hands he rose your face to his. His mouth suddenly became dry when your eyes reflected the same expression you held all those night ago. You didn’t fight him you didn’t have the energy to nor did you want to. You wanted to believe what he was saying was true, though there was a part of you that didn’t trust a word he spoke to you. 

“Then let me help you. Let me be the one who helps you find that love for yourself to share. With me.” 

“I–I do not understand.” Your voice was laced with sadness but also confusion. 

He had run out of options. There was not a single thought in his mind that he could cook up and serve to you in words, his mouth nor brain would allow it. Hs tongue retracted outwards coating his dried lips with a layer of saliva, his eyes danced between yours and your lips. He wanted to stop himself for what he was about to do, in respect for you and Tsu’Tey’s relationship but in all honesty? He couldn’t care less. 

His body leans in, so carefully. Breathing and no breathing could be heard between the two of you as he grew closer and closer to you until his lips were ghosting over your own. He paused for a moment waiting to see if you would push him away from you or pull yourself away, but you didn’t. Your own breathing had slowed down your eyes watching his lips now as you could feel his breath among them. He was so close you could barely feel your legs anymore or your fingers, not even the slight chill of the night that blew around the both of you because all you felt was him, everywhere, filling everything around you. He whispers, 

“Please.”

“Please don’t hate me for this.” Pushing his head a bit further, he felt his lips finally connect with your own. Your lips are softer than anything he has ever known, soft like a first snowfall, or biting into cotton candy that melted away by the slightest touch. You tasted sweet. So effortlessly sweet. 

This was the only thing that mattered. 

This. 

You. 

Your petite body pressed against his and your arms found their way to his neck wrapping them to pull him even closer into the embrace. Your lips danced feverishly together as if you two were starving for each other, and without a doubt you two were. His hands dropped from your face sliding their way down your body, his fingers brushing lightly against the curves of your hips sending a small shiver down your spine. Swiftly he hooked the back of your legs wrapping it around his torso, carefully sinking you both to the ground with you straddling him. Breaking for air, he headed for his next destination. His kisses felt like fire against your skin, the way his lips pecked and nibbled on the skin residing between your neck and collarbone sent your mind into a whirlpool. 

“Jake…” you puffed out, your lungs no longer working at the moment. Your voice seemed to fall on deaf ears as he continued his assault on you. Holding the small of your back he rested a hand behind your head as he laid you softly on the grass, his new position in between your legs now. His lips found yours again except this time he was more desperate. His lips moved now rather harshly against your sucking and biting at them to get your gasp out his name, his thoughts running wild as you did so. 

Once again you two broke away for air heavily panting as you both observed each other. You underneath him with messy hair and slightly swollen lips and him above you with eyes hazing over. Your eyes reflected loving eyes, showing him they are the door to his own soul. Touching him with those gentle hands, not as clay, but as if his body were reborn in its most perfect form. And so, in this love there runs a deep gratitude, a sense that what is given is sacred and transient, passing in time into the eternal cycles of living.

You wore a smile on your face, a smile that was finally for him, your hand cupping his face and gently rubbing your thumb soothingly across it. Instinctively, he leaned in your touch.

“I–see you…jake.” 

He felt a wide grin spread across his face as his stomach did a flip after  flip. 

“And I see you, y/n.” 

~~~~~

The two of you walked back hand in hand, both faces wearing a smile. The sun now rising spreading across the forest, waking a few up in the process. 

“So what are you going to tell my sister?” Awkwardly Jake scratched the back of his neck.

“Well, she was the one who pushed me to do this. But, I’m glad I did because if not I would’ve lost you to Tsu’Tey.”  The comment earned a small laugh from the girl beside him tweaking confusion from him.

“I and Tsu’Tey were never going to mate. We were following my mother’s request, neither of us were interested in the other.” 

He was relieved, relieved that you and Tsu’Tey were never mated, and also relieved that he could be the one to mate you, just like he had planned. 

“So? Does this mean I can be your mate?” You stepped in front of him, locking your fingers together and smiling beamingly up at him. 

“It seems Eywa has deemed you so. Jake Sully.” 

His smile mirrored your own before he swiftly captured your lips with his own once again, silently thanking their great mother. After all, 

Eywa makes no mistakes.

[pmdtherogueteam]

Henllo followers! This is the author speaking! Yes!

Unfortunately, PMD: The Rogue Team is still on hiatus. Real life has been too busy!

This update is to inform you all of some changes made to the comic's website on tumblr, as well as some new things going forward!

>> I've added navigation links to every comic page! As much as I liked the old webcomic theme, it started to bother me that mobile users could not use the desktop navigation, and that the chrono tags did not work. Hopefully this makes your reading experience better! >> I've also updated the website theme! It's really pretty and made by glenthemes on tumblr. Pages are displayed at a bigger size on desktop, so I think it works really well! >> With the theme updated, you now have the ability to send asks to this blog! I've always loved to hear readers' thoughts on the comic in other platforms, and I missed this kinda interaction on tumblr. So feel free to share your opinions! Any not-a-comic-page post will be tagged as "not comic", so you can block the tags if you only want to read the story. >> I also plan to reblog fanart and post my random PMD: The Rogue Team art here! >> Most importantly: even though the comic is on hiatus and life is too busy, I am still working on drawing the comic pages little by little, because this comic never leaves my mind for a second :') So I'm also going to post little cropped WIPs here! And maybe updates on how far along production is going, whenever I reach a milestone.

That's all, folks!

Thank you very much for your support and faith in my little baby project. I hope you enjoy what I have in store ;v;)b

[fuzzyclink]

Wrote a Cirrus x Vesper fic! I originally posted this on my touchstarved blog here but I've been finding that my posts from there don't show up in any tags currently, so reposting here.

Warnings: 18+ mdni, priest kink, eating, food, humiliation, violence, spitting, bad BDSM ettiquette, sadism, kicking, blood/pain. Reader gender not described(pronouns/body).

Cloying

As the last full moon of the year draws closer, the paths of the city buzz with excitement. Though not everyone under the mountain prays to the Lunar God, plenty are happy to join in the merriment or make a profit off of people who are celebrating the festival. This time of year people cluster around the usually isolated church - vendors crowding around the base of the building with their wares. You've decided to join in the celebrations yourself, donning a black seasonal mask that covers your nose to forehead, with a small, delicate depiction of the moon going through various phases positioned right above your eyebrows.

Tonight is the official start of the festival, though anticipation has been brewing for the last week. As it's your first year here, you haven't been able to attend a Lunar Cleanse service, only hearing about it in bits and pieces from people at The Leaping Bear. Privately, you're a bit excited to experience something new. You've been so caught up in your search for a cure that you think some merriment for once would do you good. And, you're curious to see Cirrus lead the congregation through the ceremony. You've never seen him in front of a large group like that before.

The ceremony is starting shortly, so you make your way to the church. The streets are alive with festival-goers milling around. The air, usually damp and still, is filled with sweet scents. It's more humid than ever, hazy air rising from delicious round buns, steamed and stuffed with savory meats and vegetables. You see a nearby vendor lay out pale sesame rice balls on small plates, sticking to the fingers of people who tear into them hungrily. Another vendor is selling marshmallow filled cookies, covered in a thin layer of white frosting. On your way to the church, a stall selling candy catches your eye. You purchase some quickly, grabbing a bag of tiny, glittering silver candies. You pull open the narrow bag as you walk, placing a candy in your mouth. As you roll the sphere around on your tongue, a delicate flavor of jasmine fills your mouth, and you crunch the rest of it between your teeth happily. It's a delight to see the backbreaking worries of the city fall away, even if it's only for a short period of time.

The sounds and scents of the busy street fade away as you enter the church. The church is busier than you've ever seen it before, the building crowded with devotees sitting shoulder to shoulder in the pews. Even though it's crowded, everyone speaks in hushed voices. The building has been decorated with gleaming ribbons, strung along the tops of the walls. The placement of the ribbon leads you to think that few other than Cirrus would be able to place the decorations. You snicker to yourself quietly, imagining him wobbling on the tips of his toes to secure ribbons around the building. Or maybe, you think as your smile widens, he stood on a small stepstool? Your exploratory gaze falls upon Cirrus himself, standing at the front of the room. You immediately avert your gaze, feeling as if he would be able to sense your daydreaming just from your facial expression. He has a way of drawing guilt to the surface of your thoughts, bobbing to the top unavoidably like a cork in water.

You find a seat at the back of the room and slide into the end of a pew, crowded rows of benches lining the chapel in front of you. Your neighbor gives you a quick nod, their silvery silk mask glinting under the light of the candles before turning back to the front of the room. You clutch your candy in your hands, placing the bag on your lap. The room quiets as Cirrus takes his place at a podium. He wears the robes you've always seen him in, but in this moment they seem almost ethereal, glowing and shimmering in front of the candles. Silver hair cascades down his back as he stands resolutely before the crowd. His shoulders stand strong and the power he emits reaches you all the way in the back of the room. The crowd leans forward in anticipation.

"At this time of year we are able to begin anew," he intones, sweeping his hands out to the audience.

"The moon is pale and shining- a reminder of the ending of one year, and beginning of another. All of us gather to praise it’s light.

"All gather to praise", the congregation murmers in response. You hastily mumble some words, wishing that the service came with a tutorial. You hadn't realized there would be a call and response.

Cirrus continues. "The Night Air pierced by Silver Light presses down upon us. The Moon shines through us. We ask for it to illuminate our darkest faults, to wash them clean. Each of you have made grave errors this year," he sternly states, gazing out into the room. "Each of you have mistakes that you wish to release." You swear you can feel his eyes upon you, and wonder nervously about any possible mistakes you have made recently. Does it count that you hadn't brought your dishes to the counter at The Leaping Bear? Or maybe you’ve been too rude to the vendors when, time and time again, they have no news for your cure?

Cirrus's voice cuts through your thoughts.

"Let the strike of bells pull your guilt from you and release it. Let each toll into your heart and feel it dredge up the turmoil within. Bring your darkness out and let it whither in the light".

He stands commandingly at the front of the room, a bell the size of his fist resting in his gloved hands. He carefully swings his arm, the sound of the bell crisply ringing through the room. It's medium pitched and sharp, startling you in the quiet. You jolt a little, shifting in your seat. As it echos through the room, he paces softly across the front of the church. Another toll spreads through the space as he reaches the left side.

"Bring your sorrows up through your chest and release them with your breath," he instructs, a lecturer to an obedient audience. You try to obey, but your breath catches in your throat at the next ring - the sound so sharp and striking that it tears your attention away and sends a shock through your body. He continues to stride slowly at the front of the room, each subsequent ring of the bell growing softer and softer until you can barely tell whether he's rung it again or if the sound still lingers faintly in the air from the previous strike.

"Let your breath serve as a reminder to you of the life given to you, and of the light that will always return to you, even when the darkness feels crushing and all-encompassing. Just as you inhale and exhale, the moon changes and is lighted anew." He pauses for a moment, solemnly surveying the audience. You feel light and unburdened, more at peace than you have felt in weeks.

"With renewed spirits and lightened hearts, let us learn from those who have walked before us. In the first book of the Lunar Scripts..." Cirrus continues onwards, describing to the congregation a particularly (in your mind), dry and archaic passage from historical literature written long ago. Your eyes begin to close as his voice continues slowly on, the soft light of the chapel blurring in front of your half-lidded gaze. Your head starts to drop and you jolt yourself awake, shifting nervously in your chair and eyeing Cirrus. You suspect that he might have been facing the other side of the room when you started to doze off. He continues through the text, emphasizing certain points with a strident tone. It's clear that he knows the text well - but due to your lack of familiarity you're having a difficult time parsing the archaic phrasing. At times, you're not even sure it's in a language you know at all. You shift in your seat, fighting against the drowziness that seeps into your bones. You hope that the service will finish soon so you, and the rest of the worshippers, can join in the festivities outside. Your fingers shift on the wrapped candies in your lap and your stomach grumbles quietly. On a whim, you ease the top of the bag open, pressing a candy silently into your mouth. Maybe this will help keep you awake and your hunger at bay until the service is over.

"Silver Light, shining down upon us. We are bleached clean in your light. Glorious Celestial One, we are grateful for your protection in the last year, and returning brightness in this New Year. Before we celebrate your fullness through laughter and festivities, let us take a moment of silence to honor your watchful guidance". Cirrus leans onto the podium with the passion in his words. Everyone in the congregation stills, and the room falls silent. Light falls on Cirrus, draping over him and illuminating his hair like spun silver over his shoulders. He bows his mask towards the floor. You sit quietly, and as the silence stretches onwards, your eyes start to close again. You desperately pry them open, but between the warmth of the building, the dim lighting, and late hour, you soon find your head tilting to the side involuntarily. When your eyes close shut a third time, you desperately reach into your bag of candy for a distraction to help keep you awake.

To your horror, your fingers catch on the edge of the narrow bag, and the contents spill out in front of you, countless candies clattering across the stone floor. They bounce and tumble, each movement sounding thunderous in the silent room. You watch helplessly as the round candies careen across the flagstones, the furthest coming to a standstill at the feet of people three rows ahead of you. Masked faces turn to you curiously as people glance over their shoulders to see what the fuss was. Cirrus's gaze snaps to your face, pinning you in place like a moth on a board. His mouth twists when he sees that you're the one who caused the commotion.

"I'm so sorry, I'm so so sorry," you hurriedly breathe, sinking to the floor to gather what candies you can reach without disturbing those around you. The color is high in your cheeks, your hands sticky as you grab the candies nearby and press them into your pockets. Your gaze flits between the candies in front of you, scattered between the shoes of the other attendees but out of reach. You barely hear the end of the service, too mortified to raise your head or focus on Cirrus' words. The back of your shirt is damp with sweat. The congregation rustles to life as the ceremony concludes, the congregation impatient to finally listen to the music and enjoy the celebrations outside. You hover anxiously by your bench, standing and waiting for the rows to clear so you can gather up the mess you made. As the final attendees file out of the building, chatting to each other, Cirrus comes to stand beside you. His irritation rolls off him in waves and you shrink besides him, falling back down onto the bench without a thought.

"It's rather disrespectful, don't you think?" Cirrus says tensely, his words clipped and short. "Bringing food into the service. Distracting the church members. Irreverence on a sacred day. Such gluttony, hm?"

You have never had him this angry with you before, and your hands tremble in your lap where you twist them nervously. "Cir..Cirrus.. Father... Ah, I'm so so sorry, please, I'll clean them up right away. You're right, it was so stupid of me, I shouldn't have brought them in...I - I never meant to drop them, ppplease let me pick them up, I'll do it now..." You chance a look upwards, and the last bit of hope inside of you shrivels. He is silent, his face unmovable.

"You want to pick them up?" He asks softly. You nod, eyes fixed nervously on his face.

"I think your insatiable fingers will simply betray you again".

Your face falls, and you gesture out to him. "Sir.. Cirrus...I'll do it, I'll pick them up. Please, I'll do it right away,"

You sink to your knees and quickly stretch for one candy that's most of the way under the bench nearest to you, fingers scrambling across the dusty floor in your haste. Your heart stops in your throat when Cirrus's heavy, booted foot is placed onto your wrist.

"I said no," he hisses, the flat sole of his foot cruelly twisting against your skin. The bones in your wrist shift under the pressure.

"Your hands are clearly unreliable. And with your voracious hunger and desperation? Hmm, it's only fitting for you to use your mouth".

You lean back on your heels and crane your neck to look at him, wrist still pressed to the floor. "My mouth?"

"Yes. As starving as you are, we had better not let them go to waste." He places his hands behind his back impassively. "Begin."

You nod nervously and he lifts his foot off of your arm. You lower your torso to the floor with your arms, carefully picking up the small candy between your teeth. You can feel his icy gaze on your back. Chewing it quickly, you stoop further under the seats to grab the next nearest candy, shuffling forwards further on your hands. Even under the shelter of the bench, Cirrus's presence looms ominously behind you. You've just picked up the second candy when he speaks again, derision dripping from his words.

"In fact, I think it would be better if you didn't use your hands at all, hm?"

You twist awkwardly from beneath the bench, shuffling your weight back onto your heels. When you pull yourself upright in front of him, you see he's pulled out a narrow black rope. He steps behind you smoothly, pulling your arms behind your back and wrapping the rope around your wrists. A few firm knots later and your wrists are securely bound. Cirrus briefly checks the tightness by sliding the tip of his finger beneath the ropes and then stands.

He peers down at you, his mask an impenetrable shield. He can't keep a sneer from pulling at the edge of his mouth as he speaks. His anger is still palpable. "It suits you, my star. Perhaps this will teach you some restraint, since you are clearly struggling to learn. Continue."

You shift your weight forwards on your knees, testing the rope on your hands. It's tight but not unbearable. If you let your shoulders hang forwards the weight of your arms forces the rope to bite into your skin. But if you clasp your hands behind your back, it's tolerable. You lean all the way forwards, resting your torso on your knees. The spilled candies stretch out before you, some scattered as far as three rows ahead of you. Awkwardly, you scooch forwards, trying to move yourself over to a candy on the right. Your knees already feel sore against the pavement. You have much less control without the use of your hands, and you bash your spine into the underside of the bench. Pain radiates from your back and causes you to lurch forwards. Resignedly, you fully lay down, your torso on the floor and legs stretching out behind you. The floor is gritty and cool against your cheek, and you can feel the solidity of the stone through your clothes.

"There are many more to gather, my star. Best for you to progress quickly. Unless you'd rather I give you some *encouragement*, hmm?"

From the malice in Cirrus' voice, you feel pretty certain that you wouldn't like whatever his encouragement would entail. His foot comes to rest next to your ankle. The threat of it spurs you into action. You gather the candies under this row of pews with haste, twisting and contorting your body around on the stone to gather them in your teeth. The sweet jasmine flavor fills your mouth, polluted now with bits of dirt and sand from the floor. You look from side to side, your neck straining as you peer in the dim lighting. As you go from candy to candy, you pant harshly through your nose, mouth occupied. It’s difficult to progress with any kind of speed despite your efforts, and you work your way slowly across the ground, twisting and bending to shift from place to place. Your knees are starting to get rubbed raw, and your back aches from the strain of your motions. Your movements are becoming less precise as you grow tired, and you find yourself lunging for the candies with little finesse, eager to finish the job. One such motion scrapes the skin off your chin as you fall a bit too heavily on the floor.

Reaching the gap between the benches, you rest your cheek on the floor for a moment. The candies are fewer now, only beneath two wide benches ahead of you. You can feel the sweat stick to your skin. Your back burns, muscles furious from the repeated motion below the pews. Through your efforts, you've gained abrasions on your chin and cheekbone to accompany those on your knees. You close your eyes for a moment, gathering your strength.

Your body jolts when you feel Cirrus' boot come crashing into your ribs. "You think you've earned respite?" He speaks to you lowly, cooly. You squeeze your eyes shut, and find that his voice cuts into you. "You're dirty. Pathetic. Snuffling in the dust for grub like an animal." His disgust for you drips from every word. "Just minutes ago, you begged me to let you clean up. Told me how *quickly* you'd do it." On the last word he swings his leg again, this time slamming it into your gut. You gasp out a choked groan, wheezing. He continues on in a biting murmur. "I suspect that you cared more about currying my favor than righting your wrongs. I am not someone who can be plied with desperate words".

You cough a little, feeling a bruise bloom in your ribs as you do so. "Nno, I - I really am sorry, Cirrus, please, I'll continue. I want to clean it..." You feel a bit disgusted in yourself, but your desire to appease him and shame from your mistake prevails. You inch your way forwards to the next candies, painstakingly making your way beneath the benches. Cirrus walks to the row on the other side of the bench and stands there, waiting for you. You can see the faint shine of his shoes out of the edge of your eyes. Gathering the candies beneath this bench is harder. Your mouth and throat growing parched from your exertion and the endless sugar. You gasp on dust that rises from your movements. At some of the candies you find yourself resting for a moment, before quickly glancing to Cirrus’ feet and continuing again. Your back trembles as you shift forwards and you find yourself using your knees and shoulders more, doing your best to ignore how your skin screams at the friction. You've stopped clasping your hands together and they slump forwards limply, wrists aflame where the rope restricts them.

You start to feel anxious about how much is left. You've finally made it past the second bench. How many more are there? Surely you must be finished soon? You curse yourself. WHY would you be so stupid to try and eat them DURING the service? The delicate Jasmine flavor feels foul and cloying on your tongue. Glancing up desperately, you assess how many you have left to gather and realize that you only have the candies past the third bench to remove. Cirrus has walked ahead of you and stands at the remaining candies that have rolled out from under the bench. You realize, as he starts to move, that he was waiting for your attention.

He carefully lifts his boot and places it on top of the candy, grinding it into dust beneath his foot. With horror, you watch as he does this to each candy one by one, crushing each delicate silver orb into a fine, sugary powder. He drags the toe of his shoe through the mess, gathering it into a pile before he walks to the side. The powder clouds the dark leather. Cirrus waits for you, his expectation clear. Your breath hisses through your teeth as you pull your weary and aching body forwards. Pausing brings greater pain, each point of agony alighting with renewed vigor after the miniscule rest. Your clothes stick to you, damp with sweat and blood from your efforts. Reaching the edge of the powder, you shakily press your tongue into it, trying to pull it into your parched mouth. Your lips crack as you try to clean the mound up, each time leaving dust and damp remnants. You keep returning to it, trying again and again to remove it but only succeeding in spreading it more broadly upon the floor. With how dry your mouth is and your level of exhaustion, you’re unable to pick it up.

Your face slumps onto the stone next to the pile and a sob breaks from your chest. It's too much. There's nothing to be done. Your eyes squeeze shut as hot tears spill down your cheeks, leaving tracks in the grime. You curl up on yourself raggedly, body in a defensive ball. You can feel Cirrus's presence as he comes to stand by your shoulder. His clothes rustle slightly as he crouches. He grabs your chin, fingers sliding slightly through your tears. It's impossible to look at him. His voice feels gentle. "Your efforts, my star, have almost convinced me of your repentance".

"*Please*..." You croak out. You're not sure what you're asking for. His forgiveness, an end to all this, his help, rest.. Ciruss's thumb falls to your cracked lower lip.

"If you need help, you only must ask," he whispers to you.

He pulls your lips open and you feel something cool and wet fall against your tongue. Your eyes spring open to see a thin strand of saliva falling from his lips and into your open mouth. In this moment, it feels like a mercy. His jaw works and you open your mouth further yourself, accepting anything he would offer you. His spit pools in your mouth, almost refreshing after the relentless dust and sugar from the floor. It glints wetly as it falls. His hands slide to the back of your neck, carding through the damp hair at your nape for a moment. He holds the full weight of your head in his hands. His voice is as soft and as firm his fingers.

"So close, my star. You will continue. Leave your guilt behind".

Your heart trembles at that, the promise of forgiveness and his kindness so near.

You feel filthy. You feel beautiful in his touch. You feel like the stone you've spent so long inching across. His fingers slip softly through your hair and lower your head back to the ground. You feel him straighten more than you see it. With the most weariness you've ever felt before, you roll yourself to your front and gather the pile of dust into your mouth slowly, mouthful by mouthful. Your tongue and throat burn and it feels more as if the sugar tears your mouth than it does dissolve. You drag your damp jaw along the gritty floor, realizing at last that the pile is gone.

"You've done well to make amends.", Cirrus says, looking down at you in a heap at his feet.

It's then that your gaze falls to Cirrus's boots, right in front of you. They still have a fine smattering of dust from when he crushed the candies in front of you. Hazily, you blink at them, watching how the sugar dulls the reflection of the lights. With the very last dregs of your resolve, you shift forwards and lave your tongue through the dust on his boot. The boot shifts minutely, a quiet huff of surprise coming from him. You can tell he watches you as you do the best to clean his boots. Your exhaustion means that in some ways, you simply press your face and lips against them devoutly, your damp skin carrying away more grime at times than your mouth.

"What a precious, obedient little bootlicker", he breathes rapturously. "My devoted, gorgeous toy.”

Warmth sweeps through you at that, padding over your many aches and pains like a soft balm. Satisfied with the appearance of his shoes, you lay motionless on the floor. Dimly, as if to someone in a dream, you feel Cirrus unbind your hands and carefully lower your arms by your side. He rubs them gently, hushing you as you mumble in protest. You feel him reach below you and, with a motion that makes the world swing on it's axis, heft you into his arms.

"Is it ok, now?" You can't help but look for reassurance, your mind and body clinging to him as he carries you.

“Yes, little star. You are forgiven.”

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

Thanks so much for reading! This fic was inspired by sitting through church services over the holidays and the full moon rn. I was also inspired by this ask to Rotten Racoons (https://www.tumblr.com/rottenraccoons/703263691996545024/will-the-lis-spit-in-vespers-mouth-if-they-asked), which stated Cirrus would spit in Vesper's mouth as a reward for good behavior:D I wanted to manifest the idea of "getting punished for being disruptive in church". If you made it to the end, thank you! I'd love to hear what you thought!

[capricorn-0mnikorn]

What you'll find here (refreshed Intro post, 14 December, 2024)

I generally post whatever is on my mind, especially contemplative and/or silly. Disability rights, queer rights, literature and the arts are perennial subjects.

Rest Assured: I will never make a “Reblog, or else you’re a bad person,” or “Reblog, or else bad things will happen.” post.

(Though I may ask for signal boosts, if someone is asking for specific help / advice, and needs to get their message out)

What counts as "Good Manners" around here:

Don't be mean. There's no need to be mean. Remember, wherever you go, there you are.

Praise what you enjoy before criticizing what you don't.

When you do give criticism, let it be reasoned ("It sucks!" isn’t reasoning).

Don't belittle, or mock, people for the things they enjoy (or what they don’t enjoy, either, respect people’s squicks, even if they seem odd to you).

If you must post provocative things, aim for provoking laughter, and provoking thought.

Remember that anger can splash onto innocent bystanders, and people "reading over your shoulder." If you must have an argument with someone in particular--rather than an argument for or against an idea--take it somewhere else (Send a private message or ask to the person)

When in doubt: Puns!

My blocking policy: When I get a notification that I have a new follower, I check, and I will block

Blogs I suspect of being a bot.

Ableists . (Link to the American Wikipedia article on Ableism). This includes anyone who supports for Autism Speaks; I see a blue puzzle piece, I block immediately. I will also block people who repost images, and remove the Image Descriptions.

TERFs.

Self-appointed LGBTQ+ Gatekeepers: Those who want to exclude Asexual, Aromantic, and Bi- (or Pan-) folk in M/F relationships, from the Queer Community.

Speaking of the Queer Community: Any user that tags my posts with “q-slur." Since "Queer" is widely accepted through academic consensus, I use it freely. If that word makes you uncomfortable, you would not be happy here.

Any blog (or Anon who sends a message to my Inbox) that discourages voting in United States elections.

And Finally:

With help and suggestions from many others (some of whom wished to remain anonymous) I designed the Disability Pride Flag (Which is different from the Disability Rights Flag of the U.N.). Here is the flag as designed for computer monitors, mobile phones, and other backlit screens:

To the extent possible under law, Ann Magill has waived all copyright and related or neighboring rights to Visually Safe Disability Pride Flag. This work is published from: United States.

I also designed a version in fully saturated colors, which I recommend for physical media, such as actual flags, tee-shirts, print materials, etc. (Since physical media is more likely to be viewed at a distance, and atmospheric haze naturally filters bright colors).

I've put the full saturation version behind the cut (But please use the version above for online art):

[giggle-guru]

A Lil Hello

Heya! My name is Emily! I’ve been a Tumblr lurker for so long so I thought I’d finally jump on here :)

My current obsessions are Hazbin Hotel, Helluva Boss, Undertale, Stardew Valley, and FNaF Security Breach (I’ve never gotten off of it 😭) ((new edition is The Amazing Digital Circus hehe)

I’d say I’m a switch, dead set in the middle! No leaning on either side, depends on the day haha.

The blog will be SFW, though I don’t mind if NSFW blogs interact as it doesn’t bother me. If I ever have the desire to write more explicit fanfics I’ll make a separate blog for it.

Feel free to look below the cut for my Masterlist, which contains all of the audios and tickling fanfics I've written (and spoken!). I adore every little like and comment you guys give me even on my old stuff 😭 like let me give you a hug rn

MasterList

My fanfics will all be tagged as #guru writes, while my audios will be tagged #guru speaks for easier navigation!

Fanfiction

Hazbin Hotel

A Helping Hand - Lee!Husker Ler!Angel

A Laughing Matter - Lee!Alastor Ler!SirPentious (a little switch action at the end)

Cheater - Lee!Husker Ler!SirPentious

Cheer Up, Kiddo - Lee!Charlie Ler!Husk

Preening - Lee!Lucifer Ler!Alastor

The Silent Treatment - Lee!Valentino Ler!Vox

Helluva Boss

Breaking the Silence - Lee!Stolas Ler!Blitzø

Audios

Hazbin Hotel

Drunken Confessions - Lee!Lucifer Ler!Alastor

Soothing Aches - Lee!Angel Dust Ler!Husk

Swingin’ Giggles - Lee!Alastor Ler!Lucifer

Helluva Boss

Movie Night - Switch!Stolas Switch!Blitzø

[the-choir-inbox]

THE CHOIR INBOX

Any questions? Drop it in our inbox! Be kind and appropriate :)

INFO: - this account is ran by @4pplec0re! hi! - i will draw the responses. the designs are based off of the original musical, mostly, but will have my own little twists - speaking of my own twists, this account will contain some sort of headcanons. i will not tell you what kinds or what they will be, because i don't even know yet....simply stay tuned :) - you can put anything in the inbox!!! if you send nsfw i will simply delete it and maybe block you. unless it's like, a mild joke. the kind of stuff a teen would say, you know - anything ooc will be written in brackets, [like so] :) - i'm new here so i don't know how many are in this fandom... but just in case, proshippers are NOT WELCOME HERE! - i don't know a lot of media (games, shows, movies, etc.) so if you have a question about one of those, i'll try my best to answer, but most of the time i will not be able to. sorry! an important detail to this account is that it is set in some universe where they are all revived together, sent back to where the coaster crashed, but survived this time. they do remember the warehouse shenanigans, but did not tell anybody outside of the choir anything about it (it will likely be referenced a lot, though). their reactions are drawn as if they are reacting to an actual online message rather than someone asking something in person. since a lot of people have asked about it, i thought i would put this here: i have never read legoland, and know nothing about it! anything thats said about penny here is based off of jane doe and personal headcanons, and has nothing to do with it. and no, i do not know anything about ezra lamb, either. he does not exist here. want to find a specific character's answers? search up one of these tags on the blog! ocean o'connell-rosenberg - #ocean answers constance blackwood - #connie answers noel gruber - #noel answers misha bachynskyi - #misha answers ricky potts - #ricky answers jane doe/penny lamb - #penny answers all choir - #choir answers (bonus) natalia bolinska - #talya answers stuff i reblog from my main account that has some validity in the inbox universe will be tagged with #outside the inbox. by that i mean whatever i reblog will be canon to tci to some extent, whether it did happen or would happen!

[chlorinatedpopsicle]

https://link.springer.com/article/10.1007/s10508-023-02717-0

In an online survey of 1124 heterosexual British men using a modified CDC National Intimate Partner and Sexual Violence Survey, 71% of men experienced some form of sexual victimization by a woman at least once during their lifetime.

If men would like male sexual victimization to be taken more seriously, maybe they should start by not responding to news about instances of male sexual victimization with jokes and/or "he's so lucky!!" comments. I'm sure you already know what I'm talking about, but here's a small example:

I don't know about you, but I never see women making “I got raped by a priest” jokes, “don't drop the soap” jokes, or “fellas, how would you react if you found her? [picture of unconscious or dead woman]” jokes, etc. I only ever see men and boys doing that, strangely enough. Until men and boys stop doing that all the fucking time, I'm gonna find it hard to sympathize with their plight.

The study examines how men may feel discouraged from speaking out about instances of sexual victimization because – as a result of male socialization and male gender expectations – they are afraid of showing any emotional weakness / vulnerability; men may see any display of emotional distress as emasculating. This is true. However, one has to ask: who are the ones who perpetuate these male gender expectations in the first place? Who are the ones pushing these ideas of masculine stoicism; the idea that men mustn't show weakness? In case you've been living under a rock, liberal women have been encouraging men to show more emotional vulnerability for decades now. Liberal women push the “men's mental health matters!!! male SA victims are valid!!!” stuff harder than anyone, even MRAs. Just as men are the ones making the rape jokes, these masculine gender expectations are taught and upheld almost entirely by men. They created the stigma all on their own.

Anyway, let's address the elephant in the room: 71% is a big number! I have to wonder, though, how many of the reported sexual victimization incidents were rape, and how many were things like unwanted sexual comments, groping, and leering. Those things are definitely distressing and even psychologically damaging, but nobody should deny that they are not on the same level as sexual assault – something experienced by a staggeringly high number of women and girls. Anyway, here it is:

As I expected, forced penetration (what I would consider rape) doesn't make up a whole lot of that percentage. If you want, you can scroll through some of the tags on my blog to see how statistics for female SA victims differ. Well, probably. Tumblr's tagging system is finicky.

I'm sorry, but I'd rather focus my concern on the things that men are doing. Like mass-scale sex trafficking and prostitution. And violent pornography. And spycam terrorism / voyeuristic porn / deepfake porn. And forced child marriage and bride kidnapping. And barring girls from going to school. And female genital mutilation. And forcing women to wear head-coverings and then brutally assaulting and arresting them if they don't comply. And constant femicides. And "honor" killings. And incestuous rape and sexual abuse at horrifying rates. And brutal domestic violence. And every war in the history of humanity (and all the violence that war entails). And committing over 90% of violent crimes. And raping the female patients in their care. And raping babies and corpses and animals like it's nobody's business. And other quirky male activities. Thanks for the ask!

[ripeteeth]

Hi! I hope this isn't too random or intrusive, but I discovered your blog recently due to coming across your post about reading Frankenstein when I was searching a book ask meme tag. I really enjoyed reading your thoughts about the books you like and I found I shared quite a few of your tastes and opinions as well (eg. I wasn't a big fan of Love in the Time of Cholera or Neil Gaiman's solo writing either, I really love grotesquely interesting and oddly pretty stories like Perfume).

please don't feel any pressure to answer this if you'd rather not, but I was wondering if you had any other books to recommend or talk a bit about that have really stuck with you? I'm also curious about how you usually find more good books for your future reading list – if you have any tips or advice you could share Thank you! ♡

Hi! I’m always down to talk about books I love or loathe! There’s so much out there in terms of grotesque beauty, so to speak!

I worked in a bookstore all throughout college, so I had a ton of resources there in being connected to other book lovers and had the pure luck to spend thousands of hours shelving books and having so many titles pass through my hands. Many of my favorites are here because something about the cover or summary intrigued me while I was reshelving it or finding it for someone (or pulling it during zoning to return to the publisher if it hadn’t sold). If you have a good used bookstore near you, I HIGHLY recommend just taking time to wander through and just look for something weird! Something that catches your attention, even if you can’t put your finger on why. Ask the booksellers there if they have any recommendations - I’ve rarely met a bookseller that didn’t have an opinion or five about good books to share.

I also had the benefit of having a very book-centric family, especially my mom. She’s my best friend and she introduced me to so many incredible titles, like The Stranger, Jane Eyre, Fried Green Tomatoes at the Whistle-Stop Cafe, Lolita, The Unbearable Lightness of Being, Anna Karenina, Murder on the Orient Express, and the collected hijinks of Jeeves and Wooster. So many of the books I read are ones she recommends!

Beyond that and recommendations from friends, I tend to pick up books from following publishers. Right now I’m obsessed with reading publications by the New York Review of Books and Fitzcarraldo Editions, both of which publish incredibly high-quality writing from authors I’ve usually never heard of. A lot of these books are either experimental or have never been translated into English before (or haven’t been published in decades). I really tend to just go through their catalogs and grab a book at random and I haven’t had a miss yet. Right now from NYRB, I’m reading Mourning A Breast, a memoir of living with breast cancer by Hong Kong writer Xi Xi, and I have Vasily Grossman’s Leningrad on deck. From Fitzcarraldo, I recently loved Drive Your Plow Over The Bones of the Dead by Olga Tokarczuk and am going to start Hurricane Season by Fernanda Melchor soon.

Right off the top of my head, based on the few you referenced here such as Perfume and Frankenstein, I’d recommend:

Grendel - John Gardner

Along with Frankenstein, this is probably my all-time favorite book. It’s a fascinating retelling of Beowulf, all from Grendel’s point-of-view. It’s lush but in that way of undergrowth and decay, and Gardner leans into Grendel’s wretchedness and monstrosity, letting it sing. He’s not interested in rehabilitating a monster, but in giving this pathetic creature a voice. I have a deep love of retellings that move the viewfinder and give the reins to a side character or villain. (Though I admit I haven’t liked many of the recent releases in this vein. They give me the crawling sensation that they were written because it became popular, not because the author had an interest in the story or characters, which is perfectly valid - hey, it’s a capitalist hellscape we all live in, no shame in getting paid - but those aren’t the books I enjoy.)

Crash - J.G. Ballard

This is a weird one. A wonderfully messy, fucked-up weird one where the heartbeat of the story is about psychosexual car crash fetishes. Cronenberg made it into a film in 1995 and the fact that Cronenberg made a movie about it at all should tell you everything you need to know.

A Good Man Is Hard To Find and Other Stories - Flannery O’Connor

If you like dark and oddly beautiful, nothing fits that criteria more than Flannery O’Connor. Something heavy and somber hovers over her work. A sense of dread. Dry grasses. Revival tents. The dead eyed stare of a preacher. A fire you cannot escape.

[A list of recs below the cut]

A few others that come to mind as titles you may enjoy, though I can’t quite put my finger on why. These are all beautifully written, fascinating, and many are uncomfortable in the precise way I like fiction to leave me feeling.

Cassandra - Christa Wolf

The Dwarf - Par Lagerkvist

Hunger - Knut Hamsun

Solenoid - Mircea Cǎrtǎrescu

We Have Always Lived In The Castle - Shirley Jackson

Rashomon and Other Stories - Ryunosuke Akutagawa

The Passion - Jeanette Winterson

Shadow and Claw - Gene Wolfe

Dancing Lessons for the Advanced in Age - Bohumil Hrabal

Voices From Chernobyl - Svetlana Alexievich (Proof that non-fiction can be poetic and haunting)

Just Kids - Patti Smith

A Map To The Door of No Return - Dionne Brand

This Way For the Gas, Ladies and Gentlemen - Tadeusz Borowski

The Street of Crocodiles - Bruno Schulz

Lote - Shola von Reinhold

On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous - Ocean Vuong

Autobiography of Red - Anne Carson

Labyrinths - Jorge Luis Borges

If on a winter’s night a traveler - Italo Calvino

2666 - Roberto Bolaño

The Name of the Rose - Umberto Eco

The Pearl Diver - Jeff Talarigo

Beyond The Gates - Molly Gloss

Oryx and Crake - Margaret Atwood

Self-Help and Other Stories - Lorrie Moore

The Historian - Elizabeth Kostova

Get In Trouble: Stories - Kelly Link

Piranesi - Susanna Clarke

Consent - Vanessa Springora

Medea - Christa Wolf

Simple Passion - Annie Ernaux