#‘If you do good you are good’ but also doing good means taking responsibility for everything you’ve done

[thargelalia]

Comrade Red Hood

jason todd x fem!reader

patriarchy sucks, thankfully your doting nerdy boyfriend is there to show you support

-> 3k words

-> fluff, hurt/comfort, tiniest bit suggestive

-> warnings: talks of v!olence and crime (c'mon, guys, it's Gotham); mansplaining (not by Jason); reader is a little mean, but she's only human; Jason is a serial kisser and we love that for him

“Are you upset?” 

“Yes.” 

“…is it something I did?” 

“Not everything’s about you.”

Jason’s eyebrows shoot up to his hairline as he lets out a low whistle. “Damn. I thought I was supposed to be the broody one here.”

“Getting a taste of your own medicine sometimes is good.”

Silence.

“Sure you’re not mad at me?”

“I’m beginning to.” You let out a deep frustrated sigh, massaging your temples in a futile attempt to stop the incessant throbbing headache. “What do you want, Jason?” 

“I was just—is there anything I can do for you?” He asks, shifting weight between his legs. “You seemed a bit off over the phone earlier, so I decided to drop by.”

“I just want to be alone.” You sound less passive aggressive this time as exhaustion seeps into your words. ”My head is killing me right now, but I just had an aspirin. I’ll be fine.”

“Okay. I’ll be in the living room if you need me.” Since it’s dark and your eyes are glued to the ceiling, you’re unable to take in the dejected look on his face. 

Seeing you’ve got no objections — he kind of hoped you’d change your mind and ask for cuddles — Jason leaves the room wordlessly. It’s almost like he vanishes into thin air. A well-known skill amongst all bat-family members.

Even so, he’s surprisingly light on his feet for a big guy. But then again, we’re talking about a walking deadly weapon. A vicious vigilante. The prince of Gotham. Red Hood.

Or at least that’s what he usually is when he’s not sulking in the living room for being a victim of his girlfriend’s sour mood. 

Aside from the sound of a car or two passing by down below, and police sirens echoing distantly on occasion, your place is engulfed in a comfortable silence — this a relatively quiet neighborhood. Moonlight filters through your half-open curtains, a soft welcoming breeze swaying them gently to the side. 

At some point, your eyes flutter open. You don’t even remember falling asleep. There’s a dryness to your throat, prompting you to move around and reach for a slim water bottle on the nightstand. Next to it, the digital clock reads 2:17 AM. 

A five hour nap. Nice. 

Fortunately, the pounding inside your head has subsided.

Tsking in disappointment, seeing the bottle is empty, you detangle your legs from the sheets, begrudgingly getting up and dragging yourself to the kitchen. 

The lights in the living room are still on, making your eyes squint when you approach the entrance. You’re confused to discover Jason still lounging on the couch with a book in his hands, legs spread deliciously wide. One of his feet is propped against the edge of the coffee table.

“Thought you were still out on patrol.” 

He looks up, and blinks, not expecting to see you up. “Just got back, actually. About fifteen minutes ago or so, I think.”

You hum in response and take a moment to really observe him. 

His hair is still indeed damp as it falls over his forehead. He’s also shirtless, only dressed in gray sweatpants. Took him quite a long time to feel comfortable enough to show skin like this around you. Likewise, despite the smile that your reassurances bring to his face whenever you thank him for ‘blessing your eyes with such a delectable sight’, sometimes he still gets antsy if they linger too long on his scars. So, you try to respect his limits while also making sure he knows he’s incredible and beautiful. 

There are also beads of sweat accumulated on his bare chest and neck. Despite having just showered, his body is still overheated from Red Hood’s intense activities, you notice. 

No injuries in sight tonight, thank goodness. But if there were, though, he probably wouldn’t be here. He’d still rather agonize in pain alone in his apartment than letting his medical resident girlfriend tend to him. You’re still trying to ingrain into his stubborn mind that his health will never be a disturbance to you. He will never be a disturbance to you.

Hm, though he kinda was a little bit earlier before. However, that wasn’t his fault. Nor yours, for that matter.

As if on cue, his question breaks you out of your reverie.

“Feeling better?” You nod in affirmation and he gives a sweet smile. “Good. You should eat, baby. I got you something on my way back. It’s in the kitchen.”

You mirror his smile and resume your steps to the kitchen where there’s a white medium-sized paper bag sitting on the counter. 

Dismantling crime and wreaking havoc around Gotham, just to later on pick up food to appease his moody girlfriend back home. 

Isn’t that so cute? 

After drinking your fill of cool water, you grab the food bag, a plate – to avoid crumbs dirtying the floor – and return to the living room to eat in Jason’s company. He’s still engrossed in his book. Or rather, yours. Your small library is now his, but so is his yours. It’s an unspoken agreement.

“I didn’t know Mr. Abdul’s place stays open so late.” You say thoughtfully, munching on a falafel. Jason also got you a fattoush salad, hummus, and some pita bread. Yummy. 

You’re sitting on opposite ends of the couch, legs on a pillow in his lap, while his forearms rests on top of them. He’s hunched forward in concentration on the pages in front of him.

“It doesn’t.” Without looking, Jason steals one falafel from the bag and pops it into his mouth. “I broke into his kitchen.“

You choke on a piece of pita bread. “What the f-”

“Relax. I left the money on the counter.” 

“Are you fucking kidding me??” He talks about it so casually. Almost like he’s done this before. “Wait. So, the cookies from Elena’s last time…”

“Well, that one’s obvious.” Successfully blocking a pillow chucked at his face, he rushes to defend himself, “BUT I never forget to pay, so technically I’m not stealing! Only billionaires are harmed here, I swear.”

You both know which particular billionaire he has in mind.

“Right. Keep telling yourself that, Robin. Hood.” You scoff, picking up the fattoush salad box, opening its lid and picking through vegetables with a plastic fork. Jason’s mouth opens in surprise. “Pun intended, by the way.” 

“Whatever.” He huffs with an eye roll, trying to conceal his amusement. To make a point, he raises the open book to his face and blocks your view of him, ignoring you completely. 

As you silently chew on radishes and lettuce, you take a minute to inspect what he’s reading. It’s a considerably thick book. Zeroing in the letters of the cover, your eyes widen in shock as you swallow. 

“Jason, is that—you’re reading The Capital?”

“Yeah, why?” He questions back, nonchalantly, lowering the book just past his eyes.  “You think I only read fiction?” 

“I guess… but I only asked because I think it’s an odd choice of reading given your night.” You explain, gathering the empty food containers, placing them inside the paper bag and setting it aside on the coffee table. “Aren’t you supposed to be tired?” 

“Of fighting against oppressive systems? Absolutely.” He quips, a playful smirk on his face. “This guy just gets me, you know?” 

Seeing the unimpressed look on your face, his smile dies down and he places the book down on the armrest. “I got an extra adrenaline rush while chasing Penguin’s goons this time. There were dozens of them ‘cause he was closing an important arms deal at a warehouse tonight.. Remember that time when we were watching a documentary about wolves, and it was showing how packs tend to slaughter entire flocks of sheep when they’re unable to escape from a confined space?”

“Is that your way of telling me you were in a… kill frenzy?” You swallow hard, trying not to sound too alarmed, but the distant look in his eyes accompanied by his eerie tone and word choice is unsettling. Even though you're well aware he doesn’t pose a danger to you.

Jason seldom shares the details about his gruesome Red Hood business with you. One, because he knows you already see too much violent shit while working at the hospital. 

Two, he knows you worry about his safety. 

Three, there’s also the fact that he’d like to keep a sense of normalcy at home. 

Four, and most importantly, he believes it’s best if you don’t access his dark side, but sometimes – like right now – he’s unable to conceal it. At the end of the day, he’s only someone fighting their shadows like any other. 

Although, his are evidently a bit more obscure and jarring. 

There’s a pregnant pause before he finally breaks out of his trance with a shake of his head. Taking in your tense posture and concerned face, he softens his demeanor, reaching for one of your hands. One, two, three kisses delivered to the tip of your fingers and he’s pulling you to sit straddling his legs. Calloused palms start rubbing the top of your thighs in reassurance back and forth. 

“Don’t worry, baby. I didn’t shoot to kill..uh, mostly.” There’s no way of telling if he’s being sincere, and, frankly, you’d rather not think about this. As usual, he’s attuned to your senses, and tries to lighten the conversation up. “Anyways, I was still feeling charged when I got back. That’s why I picked one of your brainy books to help me wind down. Since your Sociology shelf was right in my line of sight, I decided to give it a try… Oh, I just remembered I forgot to bring you my French copy of Madame Bovary again.” 

“Hm, it’s fine. I’ll borrow it next time I’m at your place. But, back to my books. Why do I feel like this isn’t a first time thing? I did find some of my Sociology books misplaced a couple of weeks ago,” you complain. “Glad you’re having fun tackling dialectical materialism as a post-vigilante workout, but please make sure you put my books in order once you’re done.” 

“So bossy.” He playfully tuts, adding a nip to your shoulder. Then you feel his lips trace a slow path up to your neck, leaving a slow deliberate kiss there. “And so pretty, too.”

He smiles mischievously, lips still attached to your skin, as you shudder. 

Devious bastard.

Crossing your arms, you try not to blush and keep your voice steady. “I mean it, Jason.”

“Alright, alright. I’ll mind your precious organization.” He follows his promise with a chaste kiss, this time to your lips. “But seriously, you do look pretty.” 

“What, out of a sudden?” You raise your eyebrows in amusement. 

Jason prides himself in being a skillful liar. It often comes in handy. 

But he most definitely is not the type to give empty compliments. 

Especially not to the most precious person of his life. 

And you’re aware of that. His eyes don’t lie.

There’s that deep candid warmth swirling within those mesmerizing irises that just captures you whole. They remind you of the ocean, colors of a fine line between blue and green, like teal. Sometimes calm and serene, sometimes agitated and raging. 

One thing is sure. You’re the only person who gets to soak into the tranquil waters hidden amidst the windows of his soul. 

Because you’re the only one capable of bringing them out. 

“Nah, I always think that when I see your face.” Comes his reply.

At that, more kisses ensue. Obviously.

First one is yours, molding your lips to his in an instant as you try to return his incessant devotion with eagerness. He wastes no time in reciprocating, mouth slightly parting to welcome your tongue inside. It makes your head fuzzy all over. Every single fucking time. This type of intimacy took almost as long to construct as the display of his body. You’re never taking his trust for granted. Never. Soon enough, Jason discovered himself to be a great fan of kissing. You. He’s done it before with other people, sure, but it didn’t make him feel like this. Yearn like this. As if he depended on it to survive. And he might as well do. Your fingers find their way to his scalp, tangling in silky locks and pulling while trapping his lower lip between your teeth, eliciting a soft groan from him. As a result, he grips your hips harder, drawing you impossibly closer. The heat from his bare muscular chest is scorching, almost too much to bear as it seeps through your shirt – his shirt. 

You two only break apart because he decides to now trail his lips downward, leaving you panting, eyes sealed shut in pleasure, as he works his mouth across every other available patch of your skin. From jaw to neck, and shoulder. And back up.

This time his ministrations are sweeter and more tender, making you melt completely into his embrace. 

Finally sated, after delivering a last kiss behind your ear, he whispers softly and a little breathless, “Wanna share now why you almost bit my head off a few hours ago, hm?” 

Watching your face fall when he pulls back, his heart equally drops, causing him to backtrack, “S’okay, baby. You don’t have to tell me. I’m sorry.”

You exhale shakily, glancing down to fiddle with the hems of your – his – shirt. A hand cups your cheek, and tilts your head upwards carefully, thumb brushing the soft skin back and forth. Molten blue-green irises coaxing you to relax like the gentle sway of the sea. Telling he’s trusty and willing to listen.

“No, it’s just… ugh…” He waits patiently as you gather your thoughts. “I had to deal with one of my stupid professors mansplaining to me during my presentation today. A subject that I’ve been studying for years now. I knew what I was talking about and he acted as if I didn’t, saying that I didn’t use the concepts correctly like I was a child. Some of my colleagues told me I shouldn’t take his words personally, but it fucking sucked. Still does. I hate it when people, especially men, undermine my intelligence. I just felt so frustrated, I went to the bathroom and cried when the presentation ended. And to top it off, I got a miserable headache on the way home. So yeah, that’s why I was in such a shitty mood tonight. I’m sorry I took it out on you…” 

While describing what happened and venting about your feelings, you barely registered the way his arms tensed around you or how a muscle in his jaw ticked. There’s really no mistaking the look on his face now. The dark stormy blue that has replaced the soothing sea green. “Jason, no. Promise me you won’t do anything stupid.”

“He upset you.” Your boyfriend states in a clipped tone. “He made you cry.” 

“No matter how tempting, you can’t just fuck up every single guy that gets on my nerves.”

“I beg to differ.”

“Jace.” You beg, exasperated. “Please. That’s not what I need right now, okay? He was being an asshole, yes, but the academy, and the whole world, is crowded with them unfortunately. Most of the time, I can handle it just fine. But, today was different. I’ve been preparing for my presentation for days, so he caught me by surprise with his arrogance and my anxiety kinda escalated, I guess. What I mean is I didn’t tell you this because I wanted you to avenge me. I just want to be understood. Can’t you do that for me?” The sight of tears filling your wide eyes dilute his outrage instantly. You’re engulfed in a tight comforting hug.

“Of course, baby. I’ll never feel the same as you ‘cause I’m not a woman, but you must know I’m here for you and I’m sorry you had to deal with this.” He offers, sympathetically, before something darker twists his features again. “I won’t lie to you, though. It’d be easy for me to rip that fucking bastard’s tongue—”

“Jason.”

“—and feed it to his mouth until he chokes—”

“Jason.” 

He puts a finger to your mouth to silence you, just to pull back immediately before it gets bitten off.

“—but I won’t do that.” Not today at least, he keeps this last part to himself. “My point is a brilliant woman like you will always be a threat to insecure fuckers like him. Bet he’s just jealous he’ll never shine as bright as you do.”

You throw your arms around his neck, burying your face in it with a sniffle. “I love you.”

“I love you too. A lot.” Nuzzling into your hair, he inhales the soft scent of jasmine shampoo. “Feeling okay?”

“Yes. Thank you.” You really are. But, then, you sigh wistfully. “I’m thinking if I were an Amazon, it’d probably be easier to deal with this type of situation.”

“How so?” He tilts his head, confused.

“You know… I’d be strong, powerful... intimidating. Stuff like that.” 

“You already wield your intellect like the sharpest blade I’ve ever seen. Your words are eloquent and sharp when you stick up for what you believe. Not to mention the way you carry yourself with confidence even when you’re in a room filled with strangers.” He tucks a lock of hair behind your ear, speaking earnestly. “Trust me, sweetheart. You don’t need to be an Amazon when you’re already a goddess.” 

“That’s… wow… I wasn’t expecting that.” The butterflies are throwing a fucking rave in your stomach. You just can’t stop grinning, so you playfully hit his shoulder. “Never knew you could be so sappy.” 

He catches your wrist delicately, not missing the opportunity to turn it and plant his lips on your knuckles.

“That’s all on you. You turned me into this.” He claims, placing your open palm over his heart, and holding it there. It’s beating quite rapidly. Like yours is. “Take responsibility, woman.” 

“Fine,” you concede with a playful eye roll. Guilty as charged, your honor. “But, seriously, thank you. Your words mean a lot.”

“You mean a lot to me. Don’t ever forget that.” One, two, three pecks to his lips. You discover you really love kissing him as well. 

Suddenly, he’s covering his mouth with a yawn. Outside, Gotham’s black heaven is starting to get tinged with pink and yellow, announcing the sun’s impending arrival. Soon the streets around your building will have people going out about their day. Unbeknownst to them, one of the guys responsible for their safety sleeps tucked in your bed right around the corner. 

“We should probably sleep.” Jason begins, effortlessly getting up in a swift motion while still holding onto you. Your legs wrap around his waist as he walks you two to the bedroom. “I already lost way more brain cells than intended. Gotta save some for Mary Wollstonecraft tomorrow.”

“You’re such a dork.”

“And you need to get woke,” he taunts.

“These are my books!” You counter, indignantly. 

“Ours. Don’t be so individualistic, baby. That’s why capitalism—” Not letting him finish, you jump off his arms and go into the bathroom as he trails behind like a lost puppy.

“Yeah, yeah, I get it, comrade Red Hood. Now shut your revolutionary mouth, and let’s get ready for bed.”

thanks for reading, and please reblog if you enjoyed it <33

feel free to share your thoughts, i'd love to hear them!

this is where i got the dividers

[puckinghischier]

What do I have to do to get some filthy Nico thoughts this morning? Xoxo

not much, honestly

was thinking about how absolutely rabid he’d be after that canes game, all high on winning. but unfortunately for him, you’d be out of service for a few more days, mother nature having paid you a visit a couple of days ago. of course you’d help him out, giving him a nice, long, treat on your knees to reward him for the victory, but he wouldn’t be satisfied until he could have all of you.

he’d be such a little menace about it too. snaking his arms around you while you’re in front of the mirror, doing your hair, letting them rest dangerously low on your waist. little smacks to your ass anytime you pass by him. waking you up in the morning by rutting his morning semi against your ass.

and when the two of you are out in public? god, he’s almost worse than when you’re at home. drinks with the guys turned into you being trapped in the booth, nico’s hand resting high on your thigh, fingers brushing you over your underwear. you knew wearing this dress was risky, especially with how he’s been the last couple days, but you figured since you would be out with the guys he’d be on his best behavior. but of course you were wrong. his long pinky makes long, drawn out circles on your barely covered clit, working you up continuously just to casually slide his hand away. only to do it all over again every ten minutes.

then, when you came to visit him at the rink for lunch, he was dragging you into a random corner, kissing you like he was trying to take all of the oxygen from your body. his heavy frame pinning you against the smooth wall of whatever deserted hallway you were in. he knew you were close to being his again, having his own tracker app on his phone for your cycle. which also means he knew you were in the stage where you were becoming increasingly more desperate and horny as the hours ticked by.

“nico…not here. please. you know we can’t. just another day or so,” you’d pant out, so close to just letting him have his way with you anyways. his response would be a hand coming up to cup over your sex, digging the palm of his hand into your clothed clit. “just think of everything you could’ve had already. all the fun you’ve missed out on, caused me to miss out on” he whispers gruffly in your ear, biting the sensitive skin there. “don’t you think i finally deserve my reward for having such a good game the other night?”

you let out a harsh gasp, the sight of your open mouth and perfect tongue poking out combined with your wild eyes nearly enough to make him start ripping clothes off right here, not a care in the world if anyone would see the two of you or not. he brings a hand up to pinch your bottom lip between his fingers, pulling the skin out. he has the urge to do something he never has before, which is letting a dribble of spit drop directly from his mouth into the small pocket created by your outstretched bottom lip.

he watches your pupils dilate in surprise, releasing your skin so it snaps back into place. he looks down at your throat, watching you swallow the saliva he just transferred to you. he smirks, knowing by the look on your face, and clench of your thighs, he’s almost got you.

you hear footsteps approaching the two of you, straightening up and pushing nico away from you only slightly, not wanting to get caught in a compromising position in his workplace. an equipment manager rounds the corner, looking up when he notices the two of you and waves.

“hey cap! got that new stick in you were wanting! on my way to go pick it up now, actually. meet me out on the ice?” he waves in greeting, cheery attitude showing he’s excited about the delivery.

“sure thing! see you out there in a few!” nico responds just as enthusiastically, a stark contrast from his demeanor mere seconds ago. you both watch the man retreat down the hallway, having given you a small wave of goodbye, which you returned.

“okay well…i’ll…uh…see you at home, yeah?” you clear your throat, hardly able to concentrate on the words you’re speaking.

“mhmm. see you in a bit,” he places a kiss to your forehead, backing away from your still stunned figure. “oh! and stop by the kitchen on your way out. grab a water, you seem a little…thirsty,” he smirks at you as he walks backwards, teasing you for just how quick you were to accept and swallow his spittle moments ago.

that night when he returned home, he couldn’t find you anywhere. you weren’t in the living room on the couch, in the small kitchen, in the bedroom. when he called out your name you emerged from the shared walk in closet, clad in his favorite lingerie set of yours.

“good news, neeks,” is all you managed to get out before he was stomping towards you, backing you against the floor-to-ceiling shelving of the closet. a few shoes dropped off the shelf at the force of his actions, but that was the least of your worries right now. you could fix them in the morning, considering the two of you never managed to leave the space the whole night, waking up on the carpeted floor to his soft snores, one of his suit jackets draped over your naked body as a makeshift blanket.

[thatdisasterauthor]

I do indeed have much I can say on all of this! I don’t have time for a full breakdown, but let’s hit some key points.

🌪The Milton evacuation and changing the direction highways.

This is called “contraflow” and it is indeed a thing that is frequently used in evacuations. However, from what I understand, Florida might have laws against this? At least that’s what I’ve heard, or maybe just laws that do indeed make it very difficult. I haven’t had a chance to look into it too closely. And it is a tricky thing to do safely just off the cuff without a known procedure in place, which you wouldn’t have if it’s against the law in your area. You’ve gotta shut down all the exits/entrances accordingly so you don’t have issues with head-on traffic, you’ve gotta make sure you have effective alternate routes for emergency traffic, you’ve gotta have a space to reintegrate traffic into the proper lanes once the contraflow segment has ended, etc. etc.

You’re right that this isn’t a police problem, it’s a LAW problem. Maybe also a police problem in the sense of what trainings are available to them, what procedures they have in these situations, etc., but not an ACAB style police problem. Plenty of places DO use it, like I said. (Also, sometimes you’ll get spontaneous contraflow, where people just start doing on their own, but that’s a whole different can of worms.)

🚗 Over dependence on cars.

America is indeed super car dependent, but that’s not exactly the issue here, at least not in the way you’d think. First off, evacuations are just HARD. That’s a lot of people to move. Even if you took every large transport vehicle in a given area (so all the buses of any sort, any trains, any planes), you’re not going to get the entire population moved out in a timely manner, even if every seat is taken. It just isn’t feasible for so many reasons. People DO need to be able to evacuate via car. It’s also very dependent on the disaster in question. An evacuation for a hurricane is very different than most other evacuations due to the amount of time you, usually, have.

Now, one thing that happens and causes problems during evacuations is that people take ALL their cars instead of just one. Mom takes one car with the kids and as much stuff as possible stuffed in the back, and Dad takes his truck with the dogs and the bed piled high. A lot of evacuation planning doesn’t account for this. They see a four person family and think, “ah yes, the family sedan has six seats, they’ll just take that and go, we don’t need to plan for them to put both their cars on the road and at all the gas stations along the way.” But then they do take both cars, and so does every other family on the road, and suddenly you’ve got a shit ton more cars doing something that you expected a lot less cars to be doing. I have a lot more thoughts on this I can share later, if people are interested, but for now we shall move on.

(There’s also definitely an element of poor city planning and infrastructure in some places, but that’s very much a case by case thing.)

👩🏻‍🚒 We need a better emergency management system.

Yes! Though, actually, we already have a pretty good one as compared to other countries. Not great, by any means, but something like FEMA is pretty rare. Most countries just kind of ad hoc disaster response on a case by case basis, which is also what we did until we created FEMA in the 70s.

I have A LOT of thoughts about how we could improve the system as it currently stands, which is a big part of why I want to do a PhD in emergency management.

🔥 When to evacuate.

You mentioned this in relation to the Camp Fire, and that one is…yeah, that one was so bad. There’s a lot that goes into making evacuation decisions, and unfortunately studies have shown that a lot of emergency officials still believe the myth that people will panic if you give them too much information about a disaster. This leads to delays in evacuations, among other things. Also, evacuations are expensive, and that makes officials hold back. Plus, there’s the “cried wolf” effect where if it turns out the evacuation WASN’T needed, the next time it IS needed, people will be less likely to go, which again makes officials hold back.

With the Camp Fire, though, I don’t know if any of that specifically was what was at play. That thing just moved FAST. Also, this was a small mountain town. There were not a lot of ways out, just thin mountain roads. I guarantee those officials who made the evacuation call hesitated because they knew people WOULD get stuck on the few potential roads to safety. They weren’t making a choice about evacuation, they were making a choice on where they wanted people to be when the fire DID hit. Because it was going to hit. So do they concentrate people all in one spot, on a road that itself won’t burn but will be completely surrounded, or do they keep people spaced out all over town hoping that pockets of it might be safe? And they had to make that decision at the drop of a hat, knowing people were likely to die either way.

Fires are, in my opinion, the most terrifying thing to have to manage an evacuation for. They are both incredibly quick, but also potentially long lasting. They can shift direction at a moment’s notice. They can do things you never knew they could do. They can consume absolutely massive areas. They can die down and pop back up when you least expect it. And to be the person making the decision on how to handle that must be a very, very heavy weight.

👋🏻 People in positions of power just waving their hands.

Some do, some don’t. There are so, so many amazing people out there who care about this stuff and are doing their best to address these issues. But they need support. Taking over the department of transportation isn’t the answer, your local emergency management department is. Check out what their emergency plans look like, they should be on your county and state websites. Read through them, find the holes, go to meetings, contact your representatives. Be a nuisance to Congress RIGHT NOW.

🎓 Disaster education

Lastly, to @kyraneko’s point about needing better disaster education, yes! Yes we do! I think one of FEMA’s weakest points is its lack of addressing and helping individuals directly prior to a disaster, rather than in large groups. I’m working on it. Got a big project in the works that will, hopefully, start addressing this issue. And that’s not including the PhD.

Sooooooo….yeah! :D That ended up a lot longer than I thought, lol. Hope some of it was interesting to those of you who have made it to the end.

So I have a friend from high school who is a cop. (Yes, I KNOW.) I shared a photo on Facebook of a packed highway of people attempting to evacuate from Hurricane Milton, all while the lanes going in the opposite direction were open and empty. And my Facebook post was basically me screaming, “Open the other side of the highway and reverse it so that people can GET OUT.”

His response was essentially, “Yeah, that is *really* difficult for us to do.” Not in a condescending way, because he genuinely isn’t a huge asshole. (Yes, I KNOW.)

And then I may have vented in my response, in which I tried not to imply that the police were a problem. Because to be honest, I don’t see this as a police problem. I see this as how we have fucked ourselves as a nation by making ourselves so dependent on cars.

There is that poll on this site – or multiple polls, at this point – asking how long people can tolerate being in their cars. And the thing is, Americans (and Canadians as well, I am imagining) have almost no other options. We have to be used to spending a good 12 hours in a car without breaking a sweat. Everything in this country is built around being in a car. There’s a reason when you ask us how far away a place is from somewhere else, we normally give that distance in hours and not miles.

Air travel sucks. It sucks for a multitude of reasons – cost, the hassle of dealing with security, the time suck, etc. – and in an emergency, only a select few are going to be able to use it to get away from a hurricane. And that’s one of the few disasters where air travel is an optional escape.

Train travel sucks. Amtrak is not something you’re gonna be complaining about if you’re trying to get away from whatever disaster you need to evacuate from. But next to so many other countries, Amtrak looks like we’ve been receiving other countries’s leftover railway systems from the 70s. It also doesn’t go everywhere. I live in northeastern Pennsylvania near Scranton, which prides itself on its history in the train industry. We have a museum and everything. We have multiple things named after that museum, including the Steamtown marathon which is happening tomorrow.

Can you get on a passenger train in Scranton? Nope.

(The main argument against this always seems to be that people will come here from New York City and commit crimes, which is hilarious considering if somebody wanted to come here from New York City and commit crimes it’s only a 2.5-hour drive.)

Anyway, disasters.

If the only option you’re gonna give most people to get out of areas of Florida that are being targeted by hurricanes or areas of California that suffer from wildfires or places in the Midwest that face flooding are cars, then we need a better fucking emergency management system regarding transportation in this country. You can’t just sit there and mock people for not evacuating because they can’t or won’t when getting away from Milton meant sitting on highway for hours with absolutely no gas stations whatsoever nearby having any gas at all. (It just makes me think of those photos of people stranded on the highway in their cars in blizzards where people are like, “Now imagine imagine how bad it would be if all of those cars were electric!“ Well, all of those cars in that photo in that blizzard run on gas and they’re fucking stranded, sooooooo.)

Look, we can change the transportation system in this country. we did it before and we can do it again. We used to have more train options, fewer highways. My small hometown had a fucking trolley in the 40s. Now, if you don’t have a car here, you’re stuck. You can’t even get Uber here. if a wildfire started here and surrounded the town, it would be a clusterfuck.

Regardless of how you feel about the police, if police and fire departments in this country cannot organize an evacuation on a highway in a way that will reduce the backup so that tens of thousands of people aren’t sitting in their cars when a hurricane hits, that’s a problem – not just for those people, but for the police, and the fire department, and emergency management in general.

The people in charge of emergency management are just people, just human. I’m researching the Camp Fire in 2018 right now, and you had a bunch of people calling 911 saying, “I can see a huge fire off to the east. Are we safe? Should we evacuate?” The 911 operators could only work off the information they had. They could have told people to evacuate earlier, but Cal Fire didn’t anticipate the strength of the fire. Which is understandable. Nobody could anticipate the strength of that fire. But the 911 operators were sitting in an office with no windows, and they had no idea what was going on the east. They couldn’t look out and see exactly what was happening. If they could have, they probably would have told people to leave as soon as possible much sooner than they were told to. Instead, they waited for official confirmation, and when they did start telling people to evacuate, traffic managed to back up in a small town of 25,000 people until many of them were trapped in an unimaginable hellscape.

When people need to evacuate from a disaster, and they stay instead, far too many people - including those in positions of power – just kind of wave their hands and say, “Well, we tried.” No, we didn’t. This country made not trying its watchword, and now we’re at a point where unless you own a car, which is a luxury a lot of people cannot afford in this economy, escaping from disaster is impossible. So you can get in your car or somebody else’s car and go sit on a highway and hope your gas doesn’t run out, since none of the gas stations for 100 miles have any gas to give you, or you can stay in your house and hope you don’t die.

Sometimes, I really wish somebody would make me the head of the department of transportation. I would demand an absurd amount of money to build a better train system, to provide better transportation options for smaller towns, to provide extensive training for rescue personnel in managing evacuations like the clusterfuck in Florida this week. I would become an absolute fucking nuisance to Congress. I would be asking for money left and right to make it so that our only options as Americans weren’t to get into cars we can barely afford these days and attempt to organize our own evacuations from the growing number of natural disasters in this country.

Y’all keep posting these polls about how long you can tolerate being in a car at the same time that tens of thousands of Floridians were sitting on highways trying to get away from Tampa so they wouldn’t die in a hurricane.

We can tolerate being in a car all goddamn day. It’s because we don’t have a fucking choice, even when it’s life or death.

[arpicityandneed]

Asking for a friend re: dark content Bucky, are we talking Bucky-Bucky, or like, are you also down with some Winter Soldier? Because WOW what a great look. Scared my ovaries so good.

Like, imagine the Soldier gets a bodyguard assignment to the daughter or wife of some SHIELD official. You're annoyed about having this mostly silent, kind of unsettling hottie shadow you constantly. So you get bratty, act out to try and crack that ice wall. "Kay fine, you need to keep an eye on me, I'll leave the door open to shower!" or "hey they said to pretend you're not even here, guess that means I can masturbate!" And you're not really sure what you expected to come of it, but it definitely wasn't getting railed because you managed to wake up half a century of repressed lust.

author's note: I mean all the dark content, Winter Soldier, Bucky-Bucky, dubcon, incest, all the good stuff. please ref my rules and guidelines <3

18+ Dark Content. Winter Soldier!Bucky. brat!reader. dirty talk. creampie. dubcon (mainly 'cause hydra). rough sex.

"Новая миссия Солдат." New mission, Soldat. The HYDRA handler handed the assassin the file, your seductive smirk in your profile photo making his stomach tighten. The sensation was new to him. But his response was the same it always was, a low husky rasp with no intonation.

"готов подчиниться." Ready to comply.

~

You didn't like your new bodyguard.

No matter how hot he was, he never spoke two words to you. All you got was da or net. He followed you everywhere and carried your bags and never seemed to sleep. You knew your dad was important to some big guys, but to think it would mean you'd be stuck with this ghost of a man with no way to sneak off wasn't what you had in mind.

He was just a big, hunking, idiot. With a metal arm. (You may have had a thing for the metal arm.)

He wouldn't let you drink since you were technically only 20, and killed any party just by standing there- not dancing, not moving, just watching you with his icy blue eyes.

It made you want to crack that perfect control he had.

"So you're really not going to leave that spot while I shower." You looked up at him as he stood at the threshold of the large ensuite bathroom in the hotel you were staying at while your father was having a business meeting.

"Da." He didn't smile, didn't frown. His handsome face was just always deadpan.

"Then I guess its not a problem if I leave the door open right?" You grinned, impish and bold as you started stripping. You new you looked good. It was the utter shamelessness of it all that had the Soldat's eyes narrowing ever so slightly. Bending over to drag your panties down your legs, letting him see your bare pussy before unhooking your bra. You sighed with relief as your breasts bounced free.

"Be a good boy and do what daddy paid you for. Watch me." You grinned when you saw him take a step towards you, your pussy gushing as you imagined him grabbing you and fucking you senseless. But he seemed to remember himself and stepped back. Firmly planting both feet and crossing his arms over his chest.

"Coward~." You sang as you stepped into the shower leaving the door open, its glass side walls fogging up as you lathered up your body. Touching every inch of yourself as slowly as possible making damn sure he could follow your hands with his eyes. His pupils were blown wide but it was the only sign he as affected.

You'd have to try harder.

~

"Ah!"

The Soldat was in your room in an instant the next morning even though you never heard the door unlock or open. He was ready for a threat, door locked so there was one less escape route for any intruders.

But all he found was you, on the bed with your legs spread- naked as the day you were born. A pathetic excuse for a plastic cock sliding in and out of your gummy walls as you fucked yourself over and over. One tiny hand was twisting your nipple and you were crying out loudly with every intention of making sure he could hear.

"Fuck!" You moaned as you met his eyes, pure mischief in your gaze. "Shouldn't be a problem, right Soldat? Just, nngh, watch me."

You never even saw him move, but suddenly he was on you. Snatching the dildo and dragging it out of your pussy before throwing it across the room.

"Этого будет недостаточно для такой шлюхи как ты." That won't be enough for a slut like you. He growled as he quickly undid his zipper, you barely had a glimpse of his girthy length before he was lining himself up. He didn't even bother to take off his tactical suit before fucking into your slick hole in one overwhelming thrust. It knocked the air out of your lungs.

"M-more!" You whined as you clawed at his back uselessly, your tiny pussy stretched almost painfully wide as you strangled his cock.

"Заткнись и возьми это." Shut up and take it. He was hissing in your ear with ever balls deep thrust, groaning as he felt pleasure for the first time in over 30 years. Your pussy was heaven he was sure. And he was never letting you go.

Every squelch and slap of his hips on your ass filled the room until it was a symphony of decauhery. You were being used, and somehow the knowledge made your blood burn with desire.

"Use me, fuck, cum in me please-" you begged as you felt your orgasm growing. The blunt head of his cock was dragging against the spot inside you that you'd barely been able to reach with the dildo. Your eyes were crossing every time his fat cock bottomed out inside you, and you knew you were going to cum harder than you ever had before.

"Просто теплое место которое я могу использовать по своему усмотрению." Just a warm place for me to use. He purred the words in your ear, and you cried out when you felt his skilled fingers making quick tight circles over your sensitive clit.

You bit down on his throat, the only skin you could reach to stop yourself from screaming as you gushed around his cock. (It was only later, much later when you were being interrogated about where the Asset had gone, that you realized the bastard had made you squirt.)

His grip on your hip became bruisingly tight but you didn't care, not when his thrusts were getting sloppy.

"Do it, cum in me, get me pregnant I don't care just-" His other hand, still slick with your juices slapped over your mouth as he growled at you.

"Я сделаю тебя матерью. Я сделаю тебя своей." I'll make you a mother. I'll make you mine.

You shivered, not understanding anything but the possessiveness in his tone. Your hole clenching around him and he was done for.

His load was endless. He fucked you through it, stuffing his seed as deep inside as his cock could reach. In your lustful haze you realized you truly wouldn't mind having the child of a man like him. You knew he'd protect you both if it ever came to that.

You must have fallen asleep after that because when you came to the window was open, and there was a pillow under your hips.

He was gone.

(pt 2?)

[ri-writes-if]

So like, let’s say the Oracle was outside of the palace and went to an area in the city, or outside the city on an errand or something. Then the Oracle comes back covered in rotten food and dirt, and bleeding from there forehead because the area they went to was not to….lets say welcoming to Oracle. And by that I mean classic middle age fashion, throw stuff at people(demons) that they are weary of to make them leave. But Oracle didn’t do anything. Didn’t react even after getting rained on by garbage and rocks. Just letting them do whatever and went about their day. However when they got back to the palace Oracle tried to rinse off the evidence in like a near by pond or something so as not to offend others noses. Oracle just thinking THEY must have done something to offend them not the bigger problem of getting trash thrown at you😅

What are the RO doing?

This story takes up my thoughts🫶

Omg. That's so sad... But also not out of the realm of possibilities.

Vez, Os, and Laz will find every demon who was on that street and give a threatening lesson to them. For Vez, it's important that you're safe, not just because they care about you, but because it's also their responsibility, and they'll do everything they can to make sure this doesn't happen again with you or anyone else. Laz is doing that solely to protect you and you alone. If they need to put some fear into the general public to dissuade it from making your life harder, then they will. Os's reasoning is both of these.

Ash and Az will focus on you firstly. Comfort you and tell you how wrong those demons were and that this is nothing you should get used to or suffer through. Once your conversation is finished, they'll go to Vez and ask them for a favor, which will lead to the upper scenario with finding the culprits and making them pay for the trouble.

Though, in this scenario Vez would be bound to do some lecturing even if no one asked them. Even you weren't in a good relationship with them, they still wouldn't allow others to mistreat someone like this. The culprits will be brought to court with real charges that will keep bringing them trouble for a long time because Vez wants to make an example out of them and discourage everyone else from copying this behavior. You'll get personal protectors too.

There's definitely some talking they all will need to do with you because you shouldn't consider that incident normal and hide it from them. They all are upset in one way or another because of the unjust treatment you got and how you view it.

Thank you for the ask 💛 I'm glad you like the story!

[xetlynn]

Arcane Imagines- Violet

Sweet and Sour

Requested by: @m0ranna "vi and a s/o who looks, seems and acts very soft but is actually a beast when fighting."

[arcane] [main page]

Summary: you and vi have been apart for some time, and when she sees you all the feelings come back.

“Hey, someone’s here for you.” Your only employee, Mexi says, you hum in response waving that you’re coming. You feel slightly grateful to stand up from your desk and be done with all the paperwork for just a moment. It’s been slow running Benzo’s old shop. Nobody has really come in, especially now with everything going on between Zaun and Piltover so money’s real tight.

 You walk out into the shop from behind the counter after your employee leads you there. You look up with crossed arms. “What can I do for you?” Asked with a fake interested tone.

“[Name]? You own the place now?” A familiar voice rings in your ears. Your eyes widened to look more clearly at your past friend/crush. “Violet?!” You jump over the counter, pulling her into a tight embrace. You hadn’t seen her since that horrible, idiotic heist that went so wrong. “Hey!” She holds you close to her, before pulling you back to get a better look at you. 

“You still have that sweet innocent look.” She whispers, pulling you into another hug. Taking in your scent as tears fills your eyes. “How did you get out?” You back away this time, holding onto her shoulders to make sure she doesn’t go away. “Uh, see that pilty officer out there.” She points to the dark haired lady standing outside the shop with her hands on her hips seemingly impatient. “Yeah?” 

“Her, I don’t know why but I’m not complaining.” Vi chuckles and you smile at her. “Want to invite her in?” It stuns her when you offer that, even Mexi was taken aback. She gets nervous, walking into the back so she doesn't have to speak to an officer. “Eh, she can experience the undercity a little more.” Vi waves it off, jumping onto the glass counter to sit down. 

“Looks the same in here.” She sadly sighs, browses the place. “Tried not to change it drastically. Benzo did a pretty good job.” You frown, thinking back to the man who was like a father to you. “Is Ekko…” 

“Nah, he’s doing his own thing now. Unfortunately it's the same with your sister.” You groan, reminding yourself of the blue-haired girl's antics with Silco. “Powder? What do you mean unfortunately?” Vi perks up. “She’s not really Powder anymore.” You start, hugging yourself as you think back to when Ekko begged you to fight with the fireflies. 

“Let’s talk about something else.” You pick up a random gadget, fidgeting with it in your left hand. “How’s the free life?” 

“I want to talk about Powder.” Vi gets off the counter, walking towards you. “Vi, no. You’ll find out on your own. I really don’t want to get into this.” You tell her simply, pleading silently with your facial expression. She wants to argue with you, beg for you to say more but she can’t. Not when your eyes are full of fear and sadness. You’ve always been so sweet-looking. So kind to people, giving them the benefit of the doubt. Which is rare in the undercity. It’s also stupid to most. 

“Okay, okay. I- I don’t know, I’ve only been free for a few hours. This was the first place I went to.” She averts eye contact now. “Hm, I’m the first person you wanted to see, huh?” You joke, there wasn’t really any other option sadly. “Of course.” Vi smirks, nudging your arm. 

“I’ve missed you.” You turn to her, pulling her into another hug. “I don’t want to let go of you. It’s like you’re going to disappear at any moment.” You whimper out, trying not to cry. Vi’s face softens, kissing the top of your head. “I promise I’m not leaving again.” Her hands go to your waist just letting you cling onto her. 

“I’ll kill you before you get the chance to leave me.” You say, causing her to scoff out a laugh. The door bells go off and you both let each other go to see that officer standing there. 

“Sorry to interrupt, Officer Caitlyn Kiramman.” She bows down to you before looking at Vi. “We should get going, I have important things to get to.” 

You raise a brow on why Vi needs to go with this lady so badly. Vi sighs. “Give me a moment.” She tells the officer whose face contorts into an annoyed expression. “I’ve given you quite a few moments to reunite with your girlfriend here.” Cait spits out, obviously very antsy to get where she needs to be. The both of you awkwardly glance at one another now with flushed faces.

“Uh, it’s alright. I’ll see you later Vi.” You chuckle, taking her hand in yours. “There’s a fight in that one arena we used to go to behind Vander and Benzo’s back. It’s huge and you should come. Just like old times.” You propose to her, your face full of hope that she agrees to come. 

“You can bring your bodyguard too.” You tease making her playfully roll her eyes. Cait tries to bite back a smile at the joke. “I’ll be there. I promise.” Vi squeezes your hand before letting go. “It’s at the usual time as well, I hope you remember.” You tell her as she leaves with the girl. “Oh I remember!” Vi calls back. 

When the door shuts behind them and the bells still ring in your ears you let out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding. Mexi comes out of hiding. “You two are dating?” She asks curiously. You choke on your spit. “Huh?” 

“Well the officer said you were her girlfriend and neither one of you denied it.” She shrugs her shoulders, taking out her box of things to put away. “Oh, I mean we had a small thing as children but I haven’t seen her in 7 years. I’m sure she doesn’t think about me that way.” You ramble, putting the gadget back that forgot you were holding. 

“I don’t know. The way she looked at you says otherwise.” Mexi winks, your face heats up. “Whatever.” You mutter, going back behind the counter and heading into the back to finish the paperwork you had. 

•••

Vi and Caitlyn rummage through the crowd of people, trying to find you. “I don’t know if we’re going to find her before the fight!” Cait shouts over the yelling and the music that blasted. “I’m gonna try!” Violet huffs, shoving past all the people, getting to the front where maybe she could spot you on the other side of the arena. Her eyes traveled through the sea of moving bodies. “C’mon.” She mutters to herself. She didn’t want you to think she didn’t come. She had only made it five minutes before the fight even started because of what Cait and her had to do. 

“Ladies and Gentlemen!!!” The announcer screams into the mic, only making everyone louder with their cheers. As he speaks, Vi only zones everything out, trying her hardest not to panic when attempting to find you. 

“Isn’t that her?” Cait points down into the arena with eyebrows scrunched together. Vi’s eyes shoot down to see you standing there against a large woman. “Shit, what’s she doing!?” Violet urgently asks, gripping onto Caitlyn. “I think she’s about to fight.” 

Vi gives her a dirty look, giving her attention back to the scene in front of her right as the announcer starts the fight. The woman attempts to attack you but you swerve out of the way. You look up to see Vi and Caitlyn. You blow them a kiss before turning to the woman and throwing a punch. 

The lady doesn’t dodge it in time, getting hit right in the eyebrow. She tries to throw hits at you but you maneuver around them, hitting her in the right places to cause her to stumble. Vi leans over the edge, now cheering for you. “Kick her ass!” She shouts. Even Caitlyn was amazed at your fighting skills. She wasn’t expecting that from someone so… cute and sweet looking. 

You swiped the lady's feet out from right under her. Going in for the punches. The larger lady attempts to push you away with no avail. 

But when she sees an opening after multiple hits to the face she shoves you off of her. Getting herself up. You roll away, jumping to your feet, you weren’t paying attention when she gets a hit to the middle of your face. Violet gasps, nails digging into Caitlyn’s arm. The dark blue haired girl doesn’t pay attention though. 

You spit out blood, wiping your mouth before going after the woman with more passion than before. Looking like a beast in the ring. You go right for her head, only taking a few hits for her to be back on the ground. 

Not even five minutes into the fight and you win. Leaving her knocked out. 

The announcer commentates as the crowd goes wild. Violet listens to all the people saying how little miss [Name] out there is undefeated. “Holy shit.” Cait whispers. You pump your fists into the air, jumping around for yourself. You have blood guzzling down your nose but you’re having a blast with the attention. You look up, locking eyes with Vi who has a look of bewilderment. You chuckle then motion with your head to the exit doors. She immediately understands what you’re saying. “Meet me at her shop, I’ll see you later.” Violet places a hand on Caitlyn’s shoulder before pushing through the crowd.

You and Vi used to sneak and see the fighters in the back frequently as children. Not to meet them or anything but just to say you were in the same room as them. Even then it was kept a secret between you both. 

She sneaks through the men guarding the doors and slips into the very first room she can. Hands snake around her from behind. “Hey!” You scare her, making her jump away from you. She turns with her fists up in defense. You roar into laughter, mimicking her stance. She pouts from being made fun off and smacks your arm. “Why didn’t you tell me you were fighting?! I didn’t even know you could do all that!” She exclaims as you grin. 

“I wanted it to be surprising! Wasn’t I so amazing out there?” You lift your arms, flexing your muscles. “Yeah but honestly I did not see that coming from someone so… adorable?” She tilts her head as she tries to find the right word to call you.

 “Awe I’m adorable?” You poke her side, heading over to the full body mirror in the room, taking the wraps off your hands. “I mean, you’ve always been pretty cute. Like y’know sweet looking. I’ve never seen you even hurt someone!” she maundered, speaking with her hands flailing trying to explain what she meant with bright red ears. 

“Desperate times call for desperate measures. I don’t exactly enjoy being some beast fighter but it pays the bills.” You lean against the little table beside the mirror. Staring off into space at Vi’s shoes. “The shop not doing good?” Vi asks. “It’s seen better days. I have enough for everything except paying Mexi but I’m not letting her go. She’s helped way too much for me to do that.” You sigh, thinking about the young worker who you practically took under your wing. 

“So you risk yourself so you don’t have to fire just one person.” She quizzes and you go to defend your actions but she just snickers. “Gosh you really are too sweet for your own good, [Name]. I love you so much.” She holds her stomach as she laughs. Amused by how kind you are. “You love me?” You attempt to tease her but her face drops, realising what she said. “I mean, yeah! I’ve been in love with you since we were kids.” She speaks so nonchalantly it catches you off guard. When she said she loved you, you thought of it as a family thing. Not romantic. You weren’t upset but your mind was spiraling now. 

“I’m sorry if it’s too much. I don’t even know if you have a partner already or something. I’ve been gone for so long I just. I’ve never stopped thinking about you even though we were only 15.” She over-explains, and you go up to her, putting a finger to her lips. “I love you too, Violet. I wasn’t kidding when I said I missed you.” You tell her earnestly, your hand going to her cheek. 

Her shoulders drop, relieved by your words. “Oh thank god, I thought I had just scared you or something. I feel so stupid.” You shush her with a small laugh. “I forgot how much you talk when you’re nervous.” You whisper as she plants her forehead on yours. “I only do it with you.” She shamefully admits. 

“Mm, really?” You ask before locking your lips on hers. She moans into the kiss, deepening it by bringing you closer to her. The kiss was rough, making up for lost time. Wandering hands over one another's bodies. 

When you pull apart you grin, throwing your arms over her shoulders. “We're dating.” You state, not asking but telling her. She shakes her head. “I didn’t know that.” 

“Well you do now.”

 You peck her lips. 

•••

Time passes and Vi comes into the shop whenever she can, you let Mexi watch over so the both of you can go out. Always in cute light colored clothes in such a dark place. 

People never understood how you were so bubbly, giving to others and dancing in the middle of Zaun. 

Violet loved it, watching as a street performer played and you danced to music. Children joining you. Even a few adults. It was these moments the undercity needed. A little distraction from the horrors about to come. 

You’d have these sweet moments everyday and then night comes and you’re in people's nightmares. Fighting to pay the bills you said. Fighting to win and prove you’re more than what others call a weak minded, overly nice girl. And Vi’s there to support her girl through it all. 

Loving every second. 

[beuxwhoyouare]

Raised You Better

My son Jasper was a good kid. He was a star soccer player in school and got a scholarship to play in college, so I only saw him on holidays. I missed him so much and looked forward to our quarterly reunions.

Well that was until his most recent visit. He was being so distant and when I finally inquired why he was acting differently, he finally admitted he actually dropped out to pursue being a personal trainer.

I was shocked. He's always been a model child and did all me and my husband expected of him. Maybe it was all our time away working? Maybe I should've been home more instead of being at the lab. It felt like a punch in the gut. I mean sure he knew what he was doing thanks to all his time training for soccer but that's not a way to build a life?

My husband and I did it right. We met in college and supported each other through our advanced degrees and worked our way up in an international pharmaceutical company. Personal training is just so...surface level. He's supposed to be better than us. That's what you want for your children. No no no this is no good. I'll have to set him on the right path.

I knew of a special program at work that was rooted in natural medicine and meditation with a mad science twist. I set up Jasper with the "Sports Nutrition" department at work but it was actually our new experiment. It looked like a TENS muscle stimulator on crack. Several wires shot out of a relatively large dark grey box with a screen and several sliders on one side. I sat connected on the other side of the wall connected with the pads all over the top of my head. All I had to do was wait for Jasper to get hooked up. We sold it to him as a scientific way to curb cravings for sweets and unhealthy things, like an ozempic shot for the brain. In reality, I was told that the machine would take positive attributes from one source and strengthen them in the weaker mind.

I saw the lights flicker and anticipated that he had already been hooked up to the machine. I just laid back and rested while focusing on the importance of getting a quality education. Eventually, I must have dozed off because when I opened my eyes again it was all so groggy. But I was sitting facing the opposite direction. I lifted my arms to wipe my eyes and gasped when I looked down. My boobs were gone and replaced with sizable mounds of muscle escaping a tiny white tank top. My arms and thick thighs now filled with tattoos....no?! This isn't supposed to be how it works

I told the lab techs who I am and that I was actually Meredith. They both looked at each other spooked but judiciously jotting down notes. After answering a few security questions, they agreed to believe that I was indeed not Jasper and it must be an unforseen side effect from the treatment.

That's when they explained the problem....When my body woke up, it also said it was Meredith. Could the experiment have basically overwritten the memory of my son with my own? I felt like I basically killed my own child. Grief swept over me. But then so did a bravado, a confidence, a giddiness? The two lab techs handed me a towel as they shyly avoided looking down at a tent forming in my shorts. Oh I guess the excitement led to a physical response.

In theory I get it as a scientist. I did in fact instill positive traits on my son. Granted, that also erased him seemingly. But also it's a chance at a new life full of new experiences. I'm a man now. And what a man indeed. I walked into the shower facility at the lab. I took off the outfit Jasper donned to the lab, if I was still a woman it'd be called skimpy and slutty. Tiny shorts with underwear built in and a virtually see through tank top. In two swift moves, I had taken everything off. I had seen my son naked as a child but this is different. He looked so much like his father....well I guess I looked so much like MY dad now. His genetics graced me well as I placed one hand on my pecs and another on my new dick. I squeezed both recoiling from the newfound pleasure. This was wrong right? Like I shouldn't be doing this....I felt disgusted with myself. No. This is for the betterment of Jasper's life. I'm going to let go of my past life....I'm Jasper now.

And what a life it will be. Years of playing sport and training, whew. I wasn't going to let him throw it away, I'll let it be a side job, maybe I'll own a business with a bunch of trainers under me but I won't be hustling like that. Not yet. I gotta learn the new me. I used my hands to trace the curves of each new tattoo, then moved on to each muscle. I poked and prodded before squeezing, then I remembered I had business to attend to. I took one hand and gently took hold of the warm fleshy rod under the steamy water pulsing down onto me. I pumped back and forth for a few minutes. Jasper was not sensitive at all...I shoved aside my reservations and gripped myself firmer and began jerking harder and faster. Eventually I introduced my other hand....oh he was girthy in the best way. I mean I am thick in the best ways. Harder and faster, it felt like I was floating outside of myself as my muscles took over almost like autopilot.

The steam radiated off my new musculature when it felt like I saw a flash of light. Shot after shot came out of my new rod. The lab walls had likely never seen a show like this but I was happy to christen them. The autopilot kinky thoughts continued to take over my new mind and body. I squatted down an licked the nearest wall as my cum dripped down. I knew Jasper was queer but I didn't know how he would respond to this kind of kink. I think he was a little freak because there was not one single butterfly in my stomach from this action. I quickly toweled off and headed to my apartment. I figured "Meredith" could find her way home.

The apartment smelled like a young male in college. A musk twirled around sweat and strong cologne. Foreign to me, but familiar to my new body. I couldn't control myself and ripped my clothes off...literally. My strength made it obscenely easy to tear them off in ways they weren't intended to. I wanted to try on all my new clothes. This body made everything look good.

My phone buzzed. It was one of "my" bros asking if I was coming down to the shoot. I played it off like I forgot and asked him to send me the "deets" again.

I threw on the nearest random shirt and bottoms and made my way to the warehouse address given. I guess "I" had agreed to help with the photoshoot to launch "our" new clothing line. A nearby table had Jasper's name on it and I quickly assumed the position taking off all my clothes and putting the skimpy clothing on. I channeled my new swagger as my bros began taking pics.

Oh I think I'm gonna like this. Hopefully I can find a cute twink or something soon. I really wanna put these thighs to work plowing someone's son or two.

[amethystfairy1]

Regarding the Iskall Situation...

I've received a lot of asks wondering about what my take is on it, and since I'd prefer to have it all taken care of in one swoop so we don't have to continue to focus on it, here's my stance on the subject.

A: Yes, I have seen the credible evidence from Kasszki, I read the doc they posted, and I feel awful for them and the other victims that they had to deal with this. I'm glad to hear that the Hermits and others were supportive of them and helped them handle this situation in as professional a manner as possible. I have also seen the credible information from False that Stress left for her own separate reasons.

B: I strongly denounce Iskall's behavior, and I have absolutely zero intention of supporting him as a creator ever again.

C: Please don't pester the creators or the victims. I said it in my initial response to this situation before we knew what had happened, but my opinion remains the same here. Any information we get from the Hermits is a privilege, not a right. Hermitcraft and it's associated fandoms are well known for being healthy, good spaces, and I'm proud to be a member of this community. Now our money is where our mouths are. Please don't feed into the rumor mill, please continue to support the Hermits as you always would and don't pry or demand more details from them. This is a very difficult situation for all of us, and I'm certain it's even worse for all of them. Please keep in mind the Hermits are all grown adults, many of them had professional careers before they joined Hermitcraft, and they are handling this in as professional a manner as they are able. I applaud them for that. As their fans, we need to do the same.

What are my plans for Iskall and Stress in TTSBC?

Understandably, I've received several asks about what I plan to do about Iskall and Stress's characters in TTSBC. I've answered them individually, but I just want to put this here as a one-stop spot for what my stance is so it's clear.

I've always been a 'character not content creator' author. My characters are just that, characters. Does that mean I can completely remove them from the creators upon which they are based? No, of course not. That's not how this works, either. So here's my plan moving forward.

The two stories that heavily feature Iskall in TTSBC, "Run with It' and "Carry me Home Tonight" will remain up. They are timestamped with their dates of posting which was long before any of this came out, and again, they are very clearly meant to be characters, not the creators.

Iskall will be removed from the TTSBC: Wiki, and I will not be writing any new content for his character.

Does that affect the plot of TTSBC? Yes, it does. I'm not going to pretend it doesn't, and those of you who have followed the series at length can likely see where the issues arise...but I'm an author, and I can pivot. I also have an awesome little team behind me of @silver-sunray, @boo-the-ahh, and @khoirkid who are helping me to make sure TTSBC carries on smoothly despite this unforeseen struggle.

Stress will not be removed from the TTSBC: Wiki. As I mentioned in an ask earlier, her role in the story is very minor, and I hadn't planned for her to have any other pieces to herself outside of Hermit-a-Day May anyway...so aside from specific instances where it might be necessary to mention her, she will not be making any more major appearances. This is mainly because I'm a Hermit/Traffic/Empires writer, and I plan to stick to that notion unless future events cause me to pivot otherwise.

Lastly, I would appreciate if we could avoid anymore asks about the situation. If there are any further updates I'm sure I'll find that out on my own, I'm very active in this fandom and I see things pretty quickly when they spread, so if any new things related to this situation spring up, while I greatly appreciate your concern for me and my work, please don't send it to my inbox or in DM.

I'm very saddened by this, as I'm sure many of you are. Hermitcraft and it's associated fandoms have been my safe space for many years, through some of the hardest moments of my life, and with the mess that MCYT has proven itself to be at times, it felt like we were untouchable here. But like Doc said, the Hermits are good, and they are strong. And as their fans and supporters, we need to be the same.

Be good, be strong, and let's make sure our lovely community continues to be the positive space it always has been.

-Amethyst

[affableramen]

Wriothesley x fem!reader fic

request domestic angst+comfort

Roommate

Pt.1

“Wonderful. Our kettle is broken”, Wriothesley spread out his hands in a mild disappointment. “This is all your doing, you constantly crushed it into the base. As if you don’t know how fragile it is.”

You find yourself incredibly angered by his bold statements. You and your roommate had quite the opposite personalities and would often end up in a heated bicker. You two also had incredibly different schedules which would lead to obviously clashing routines. He woul always do his paperwork at night when you’d try to get a sleep. However Wriothesley was not the worst choice among the other candidates so sometimes you would turn a blind eye on the misunderstandings between you two. But not today.

“What do you mean this is my doing? You left the kettle on.”

“Yeah? I simply did not unplug it. I’m not some paranoid type of idiot.”

“You left the kettle on and it’s broken now. I told you to always unplug it! I requested this of you every single time!”

The arrogance in Wriothesley’s tone is almost palpable, and he simply turned around facing away from you. The movements of his body were artlessly languid, and you could swear you sensed coffee from his hair as he faced away from you. Perhaps the scent was coming from the nape of his head—you thought. Otherwise, it was still intoxicating to you, and even being as irritated and maddened as you are now, you could not deny that you found his scent tolerable if not likeable. Any other candidate to being your roommate could have been a nasty and bad-mannered student or some sort of criminal, but this man definitely stood proud before them all.

“Listen—I really have no time for this. I have more important things to do.”

“More important things to do!”

“Yeah? I’m engrossed in my work, I’m making money, okay?” He was speaking to you as if you were a complete idiot. “See you can’t even come up with a response because you know I’m right.”

“Fine. Whatever. I have enough money to buy a new teapot. Don’t even bother giving me money.”

Wriothesley raised his hand and waved to you not even looking back a second. 

“I take it you’re going to only drink takeaway tea from now on”, you said but he could be hardly bothered to listen to you.

When the two of you were at a respectable distance, his shoulders dropped and he let out an exhausted sigh. He occupied his desk and started working on his usual papers as the duke of Meropide’s ‘homework’.

It’s not that he was not rich, but he preferred saving money thus he rented this house with you. The house itself consisted of two floors (ground floor and first floor). It was not big, but very pleasant to be in. It was not exactly a countryside but not a city centre either. The area was quite tranquil and calm there, and your neighbours did little to disturb you, which was good both for your studies and Wriothesley’s work. But the kettle usage was sincerely a sensitive topic. You only had one in the whole house since Wriothesley did not see any sense in buying his own: you mostly drink water, gallons of it actually, using the boiled water only for noddles, while Wrio would always abuse the poor kettle with his 10 tea mugs a day. But that all did not matter now since the kettle was stupidly broken. It was a cheap one, and something in between its micro wires was faulty which would cause the kettle to turn itself on without the button being pressed on by someone. It was unfortunate, really, because Wriothesley did not bother to unplug the kettle and thought the action completely paranoid. You thought him as a person who doesn't give a single damn about others—well now it seems he doesn't give a damn even if this house ends up in flames.

“Thankfully it just got broken without any flames around”, you sighed exhaustedly, too.

Why wouldn't he listen to your little requests?

That day seemed to be designed for failures, as later in the evening the power of the whole street went down. That day the power was cut off and your room had grown exceedingly cold. 

“This is getting ridiculous. How am I supposed to work like this?”

But unlike Wriothesley who had a fur coat, you were only wrapped into your fuzzy blanket which did, frankly speaking, a bare minimum to save you from the cold.

“How frustrating, I cannot work like this”, he massaged the bridge of his nose. 

Meanwhile you were freezing until your patience finally exploded and you got up from the bed to get a robe for your nightwear. It might have been that Wriothesley heard you rummaging through the closet as he inquired with no visible interest:

“Cold, are you?”

“Yes.”

“You’re a little too sensitive to cold, don't you think? Sometimes I wonder if you were a feline in your previous life.”

“Ha-ha”, you utter with a sleepy and grumpy face before pulling the robe and slipping back to the bed. A while after the cold becomes unbearable for you and unacceptable for someone else.

Wriothesley comes from behind, noticing that you never stop shivering. He approached from behind, standing staight a few steps from your bed and cleared his throat to grab your attention.

“You don’t look very comfortable, you know? Looks like you’re still shivering.”

“Yeah?” You parody his manner of speech. “What do you suggest?”

You secretly knew what this was leading to but did not want to suspect it just yet.

“I can think of a few ways. But sharing the body’s heat would top them all.”

You were speechless for the first few seconds before you spat out a response both with horrified expression and loud voice:

“Are you serious?” 

For Wriothesley it didn't seem to be a nasty idea at all. He shrugged, though his gaze ran around the room, trying to suppress the sudden embarrassment he did not once consider appearing. A grown man.

“It’s not like we didn't share the bed before, so I don't see why not-”

“Hello? We are in an argument”, you cut him off. “So there is a reason to avoid close contact now.”

He groaned, because you would put your emotions higher than the rational thought at the moment when you both damn needed the latter.

“What?! Don't be so stubborn. I’m cold too, you know.”

“Oh, are you? I thought you’re invincible.”

“Listen… I can go to my bed but this isn't gonna work, I’m sure you understand. You’re shivering—I am shivering, too. Now, please, move.”

You made a ‘tsk’ with your tongue upon hearing Wriothesley’s convincing proposal. Making a space for him, you share your fuzzy blanket witht he man who smells like tobacco and coffee, though at this time there is a thin layer of sweat added to it, as a natural result of the day coming to an end and his… well, hard work.

“I thought you weren’t going to sleep tonight. You were engaged with your extra hours.”

“Yeah, overtime duties, but at home. Annoying shit”, for the next moment his voice takes a softer tone, indicating his tiredness. “Changed my mind.”

Wriothesley subtly pulls the blanket so that it covers the both of your bodies, and you can feel a slight shift in his body as if he were trying to press flush to you. The beating of his heart was noticed, and to the rhythm of it you found yourself falling asleep with unexpected ease. Wriothesley’s arrogant exterior melted away too as he wrapped his arms around your waist but never going bolder and lower.

Maybe the next morning you two could discuss the kettle issue again and come to a diplomatic decision without unnecessary hostility?

[simpingforbots]

Hello! I'm kinda new here in your blog and I saw those "what if a human ended on Cybertron" and I just love those stories they're so good

No need to do it now cuz idk if you are taking requests but could you make More of them? A part 6 with souls prime and amalgamous prime

hello there! thanks for letting me know that you like my stories and i will try my best as i am sort of new to Transformers. i got in to transformers thanks to Bay movies, Transformers prime, transformers animated and now Transformers One. So please forgive me if i might be incorrect. i will do my best.

What if human ended up in Transformers one.

part 6 (requests)

Solus Prime

(reade in this situation are female)

Being the first fembot of Cybertron is nothing easy, especialy when you have this much weight on your shoulders. Even if she found joy in creating things, the constant need for weapons was becoming exhausting. thankfully Megatronus were there to comfort her, even if they had some fights here and there, it was something good. So when something small and week showed up on surface of Cybertron, being chased by Quintessons, the injustice towards such pathetic creature fired Solus right up and they took care of those pathetic, ugly, disgusting bug creatures. They smashed them all with their hammer, letting their fiery side out along with all the frustration, all while YOU scrambled for safety to let those huge creatures duke it out. Though you did not stayed hidden for long as you wanted. A servo reached in to the hiding spot you were in, apparently not small enough for them to reach in at all, easily puling them out. After expecting this small creature they were shocked to see that it was as same frame as her, meaning she must be not the only fembot, even if in weird fleshy body. A small creature with no clear way of defending them self against harsh environment of Cybertron. So she takes you with to Iacon to keep you safe from anything dangerous and started working on creating something to help communicate. it is a bit hard as your little chirps were hard to decipherer, but signs were easy to learn. And let's just say you were also subjected to her little experiments as now SHE had a whole new reason to create.

Amalgamous Prime

Being the most unserious of all thirteen, Amalgamous felt a bit out of place time to time. he just wanted others to be a bit more... unserious all the time, this constant monogamy of data pads, meetings and fighting was surreally exhaustion for every one. He did felt a bit jealouse a bit of Solus and Megatronus since they started seeing each other, even if it was "privet secret" between 13 primes, he still wanted something else. He would venture to surface time to time, just exploring away, watching strange deer creatures "graze". Or change in to something else and joing his "subject" and wonder around Iacon. he found you in one of dark markets that he knew was illegal, yet still something about you caught his single optic. Purchasing you along with some book about "hoomans" he returned to the palace, knowing that now he had something to break the rutine. At first it was hard as you most of time hid away, to scared, but overtime you grew used to this strange bot, snickering quietly at his "tricks". after some time you were comfortable enough to laugh along side him at his little pranks.

Zeta Prime

So much responsibly for one bot - having matrix of leadership, being leader of 13 Primes, taking care of entire civilization and defending them from quinteson will be a tool to any one, no mater if they were born to do this. at first Zeta refused to believe that HE - the matrix bearer - was tiered, but in the end no one can escape the truth. It did not helped that a suden raid on Quintessons ship brought a small flesh being in to his existence. so much needed to be done so taking care of something so small and fragile was really not in his plans. But he was sort of stuck with you and just kept you in a cage, for your own safety of course, he does not want any bot to step on you by excident. If you behaved and did not flipped him off or yell something in strange language - you would be reworded by being let out of the cage and let to wonder his table while he was buissy. He would drift away from data pads just to play with you, rolling pen between him and you, chuckling seeing how hard you had to push just to roll it towards him, or simply watch you doodle inside one of the pads he would push towards you, giving the smallest pen he could find to doodle in, finding that it was one of a few ways you can communicate with him through doodles. and apparently he has a new name - Crown, about which he did not complain about.

part1 part2 part3 part4 part5

[bumblingbabooshka]

I think Sarek and Amanda Grayson both lowkey seeing their children as little experiments in different ways is undeniably bad parenting BUT .... I mean you talk about matching each other's freak .... Like imagine for a second Sarek is like "I am going to show that Humans are just as good as Vulcans by molding this Human child and my half Human son into the perfect Vulcans - This will show that despite what society thinks of as their genetic inferiority, they're just as good as any Vulcan." and Amanda's response to that is to think "Sarek is wrong...Michael's humanity MUST be preserved...so that I can show her all the love and affection I can't show Spock and maybe through their sibling bond all my unspoken and unexpressed love can trickle down to him through her." What are you both DOOOOING!?? You guys are NUTS like PLEASE just TALK to each other and compromise about how you're going to raise your children!! [Love the drama though] So I'm imagining in my head that Sarek is severely pressuring both Spock and Michael to act as perfect Vulcans their entire lives with him or else they're failures not only in his eyes but in all of society's (because he's an ambassador and raising these children is tied irrevocably with his work as such) WHILE Amanda is secretly trying to funnel her humanity and love for Spock through Michael and as such failure to receive, express, or internalize that love is failing not only your mother but also the entire Human race. Damned if you do damned if you don't! Who do you want to disappoint more, kids?

In 'Point of Light' Amanda says that she gave Michael all of the love, joy, and affection which she wasn't "permitted" (we must question the use of the word - what stopped her from directly giving Spock this love? I'm not saying there wasn't pressure for her not to, I'm saying the word 'permitted' absolves her of any personal choice or failing in a way that's interesting to me) to give Spock and though this is on the surface level sweet and probably meant to be interpreted that way, I submit that it must be kind of fucked up to hear that your foster mother was maybe only so kind and caring to you because she felt she wasn't allowed to act that way towards her "real" son. Michael Burnham as a tool for both her parents, however unintentional, is very interesting and I'm not sure it's something canon considers (haven't watched the show, I just like imagining things). The feeling that you have to be grateful to these people for not only being your parents but being YOUR parents. For taking you in and giving you a beautiful life - you have to pay them back, you have to make them especially proud of YOU. Because they didn't HAVE to, did they? Because you're not their "real" child. In the end, it's always Spock - isn't it? The love your mother gives you is Spock's love and if only one child can enter the Vulcan Science Academy then it has to be Spock. You're the appetizer your father serves before the REAL main course and your mother's stuffed doll which represents the thing she REALLY wants to hold and you know they genuinely care about you. That's the worst part. Because you know they care and they didn't mean to hurt you and the voice in the back of your head keeps telling you that any hurt they've dealt you pales in comparison to the debt you owe them and they love you, they love you, they love you, they love you, they love you [repeat as often as need be: remember the debt]

[changbinsboobs]

Changbin as husband is next I'm curious for his and hyunjinss

This is the longest fucking reading I've ever had so i just HAD to split it in 2 parts so bear with me. I love him but i hate him right now😩 (no im not)

Husband Series: Changbin pt. 1

Ugh...that guy🫠 i bet you if i let him use up my whole deck he would. The amount of "ok last card" i had to say...and yet there was still so much gushing put...and ugh, i just can't stress enough how much into details he is and how much he wants to stress on them and make sure they don't go unnoticed or get misunderstood or overlooked. Reminds me so much of my audhd friend😭. Anyways back on track - tho i don't even know where to begin from, i really think he used up half my deck. I just counted 23 cards😳 i do indeed draw a lot for the others too but thats just next level. Not on topic but i think he's a really chatty drunk😂 now i wanna read on them when drunk🙌🏻😂

Ok soooo since i have so many cards ill try to combine them as much as i can and keep the messages as concise as possible so this post doesn't become a novel - the overall energy i noticed here is not so much emphasis on him as a husband but overall him as a partner in a committed relationship. Which leads me to believe he himself doesn't view marriage with such dread as the others did (there wasn't really any dread with felix bust still a certain anxiety around responsibilities, meanwhile that with changbin is absolutely nonexistent). I would say he seems himself as capable and even ready to take on that responsibility and role if the opportunity presents itself and i think he believes he'll do a good job. He's responsible, capable and can take care of it. I actually sense a feeling of pride in him about that.

Another MAJOR theme is him being a "simp" for his partner (he insists on wife). There are many cards that im trying to sum up:

He's very protective over her and doesn't let anyone say shit about her, he's giving me guard dog vibes. Also a big bodyguardy. I can see him when being out with her eyeing people and being on alert and just idk, looking scary as to scare of any weirdos before they even think about trying something. And to clear any misunderstandings up, im really not getting this coming from jealousy (not that its not there, it is😂, but its just 10% reason, out of 100), but rather because he wants the woman he loves to feel safe and protected around him. He wants her to be able to relax and trust that he will always have her back and keep her safe. He wants her pretty little witty head not to be bothered by ANYTHING!

More from the simpy train - looks up to her a lot and kinda puts her a bit on a pedestal. This is not a very debilitating energy but feels rather like something he has made peace with and accepts - which is that she is indeed better than him and he can never be able to reach her, which means he is incredibly lucky and appreciative of the fact a woman like that has chosen him and he tries whatever he can to live up to her standard and continue to give her reasons to stay with him and continue to love him. Although she can never love him as much as he does (thats his thought🥲). But as i said this doesn't feel victimy to me at all but rather just seems realistic to him and he's a big boy and can accept reality for what it is and choose to feel lucky instead of beating himself up for not being good enough and self sabotage. Im actually really shocked looking at his energy because i can really feel the strength of his mind and ughh just how innovative and flexible he is. His will is just astounding and making me really happy, despite him obviously having some issues he doesn't let himself be defined by it and chooses to spin them to him favor. What an amazing guy💗

Back to the reading - so he spends a lot of time in his head, doing A LOT of 2 things. One is being thinking of his girl and what he can do to make her happy, analyzing previous conversations to see if he missed something or if he has remembered everything. Contemplating if she maybe gave him a hint about something, or if she maybe looked hesitant with something. Maybe her body language was off? He notes that. If there was any difference in her behaviour today, if she looked different. He's really putting LOTS of energy thinking about her and analyzing her and her behaviour. Again this doesn't seem to come from distrust (although he thinks of that as well, its just not his motivator, he just considers everything, thats why) but rather for his own feeling of safety. I think he is a very thoughtful and analyzing and sensitive person in nature so this may be something he always does, except when its something very important to him, and a relationship at that - he does it even more intensely. He doesn't only think about and analyze her tho. He does that to him too, to their relationship as well. He just wants to have a good understanding and overview of everything that is happening in the relationship so he has a sense of control and safety. You can always fix something if you know its broken. Or beginning to bend. You can fix the problem before the branch brakes i think is what he wants to say. And he wants things to run as smoothly as possible with them, and once again he has taken on the responsibility to make his girls life as easy and carefree as possible and how can that happen if he leaves the whole relationship in her hands?! He can't, so he doesn't his part very diligently and tries to keep up on the same level as her, emotional-intelligence-wise.

He also doesn't to just thinking but planing & organizing. So i think he takes lots of care for other stuff too like planing and booking fun dates. If he cant attend then books fun stuff for her. Provide her with the needed tools/means for her to be able to create, to indulge in her hobbies. He really loves that feminine creator energy and really wants to do his best to encourage and provide an encouraging environment for his wife to get in her feminine creator energy and bring him joy with it. Also thats really random but he's always ready and loves giving her massages😂💗(after her long day of crafting). He just loves hearing about it, seeing the excitement in her voice and face. It charges him.

He also spends lots of time fantasizing about her. Reminiscing wonderful dates, imagining potential future ones, creating scenarios etc. He's just A LOT in his head, his mind is really really active, and its very occupied with his love. Also another random message, commitment and love are tied with him somehow. Im seeing he cant commit if he doesn't love but he also cant love if he can't commit. So i would say he's very extreme-y. Like he's either all in or all out. No middle ground. What i mean is he HAS to be this intense in a relationship because for him thats commitment, THATS expressing love. And if he's not able to do that, then his love and interest and enthusiasm begin to fade away. He HAS to be able to be like that in a relationship and i think often he has been labeled (or was) just WAYYY TOO MUCH for the girls he has been in a relationship with. Im seeing he can get very overwhelming and overbearing if the person he's with just isn't the person to enjoy that kind of commitment and effort. But to go back to the cards, he also fantasizes about physical stuff too, for example he's riding in the car, and for the whole ride he's imagining and giggling and wiggling his feet and twirling his hairs because he plays over and over how that one time while they were still just dating she looked him in the eyes with that wet sexy look, and how his whole body got shivers and his stomach dropped and his heart skipped and his palms got sweaty and he swears some saliva started dripping out the corner of his mouth and his knees got weak and he almost felt like he was gonna black out and by the time he came back to his senses she was already sooo close to his lips and them BAM. Fireworks everywhere. He can never forget how that wonderful kiss felt and how sweet the sexual tension and anticipation before it was. He plays stuff like that OVER AND OVER again the whole damn day.

While being on physical stuff, he is pretty horny ill say. But not in a bunny way,m where he wants to fuck 5 times a day, but rather when around his girl he's always half way up, always ready to rise for the occasion iykwim. I think he gets *excited*👀 very easily and is just really weak when it comes to his girl. He's always ready to deliver whenever she ask, whatever she asks. Als im seeing once again he's a giver (and despite him loving head so much) he's focused on her pleasure and he can off just from watching her enjoy...whatever it is. So yeah thats that😂

Bro im so tired im thinking about doing this in 2 parts😭 im just halfway. Ok yk what im splitting it.

[bitter-sweet-farmgirl]

Loyalty, Honour, A Willing Heart

I absolutely adore a good character deep-dive. And ADM had me in the mood to take a microscope to Thorin.

And Thorin makes such a good prospect...

The Hobbit Trilogy has four main scenes that I think speak absolute VOLUMES about who Thorin is as a person. There are more little parts, but these are the big ones that just punch me right in the feels.

Bag End

Bag End is where we see Thorin’s first major character reveal when he was talking with Balin about who they have gathered to go on the quest with them. 

He's speaking kindly about who joined him (mainly because one of those warriors is Dwalin, perhaps...) and Balin is shooting him down (his brother being one of the "old warriors"), and we eventually get into the dialogue that tells us SO MUCH.

"You don't have to do this. You have a choice. You've done honorably by our people. You have built a new life for us in the Blue Mountains. A life of peace and plenty. A life that is worth more than all the gold in Erebor."

Given that all that happened with the fall of Erebor, Thorin is not contractually obligated to do all that he has done for his people. Honestly, that weight rests more on Thror rather than him. But he still bears that burden. He has already done so much for his people, and repaid that nonexistent debt ten times over. His is in NO WAY obligated by ANYBODY to go reclaim Erebor.

But, Thorin has quite literally been raised with that as his entire purpose.  As the next line of dialogue goes... "From my grandfather to my father, this has come to me. They dreamt of the day when the dwarves of Erebor would reclaim their homeland."

That burden rests so heavily on his shoulders.  It’s a given for him.  He has never lived a life or had any circumstance before Erebor. It’s always been his duty in some sense.  He’s always been obligated, because he was always regarded as Erebor’s crown prince before it fell.  (I've never seen anything that would point towards Thrain taking over after Thror, especially given those longer life-spans the dwarves have, so it would potentially make sense for the line of succession to skip every other generation).

He also always had to have the right behaviors and etiquette that becomes a Crown Prince™. That's part of what makes him the grumpy garden gnome that he is. His entire childhood was probably spent preparing him for the role he was going to take over one day.

After Erebor falls, Thorin is in exile, so his grandfather and his father are plotting to reclaim Erebor in some way down the road, (as Thorin's dialogue points out), so he’s involved with that because he’s the crown prince. 

And then they have the Battle of Azanulbizar.  Which was an absolute tragedy. 

Before Azanulbizar, Durin's Line was still well intact. It was not decimated by any means. If absolutely necessary, Thror or Thrain could potentially produce another heir just to secure the line of succession.

After Azanulbizar, Thorin is the last remaining male of his specific line.  I say that because Fili and Kili--while also technically descended from the line of Durin--are not truly from Durin's Line like Thorin is. They are maternally linked through Dis. If Thorin does not have any sons to carry on the 'name', then Durin's line would essentially become "daughtered out" since Dis would have produced the only direct descendants. If they had a last name, their line would die out with Thorin since he would be the last to be carrying it.

So, as much as I adore the brothers, they are only viewed as a close second. Not the best as they technically are not of Durin's Line.

So Thorin is the last remaining son of Durin, and all the responsibility falls on his shoulders.  Essentially, what his father and grandfather wanted to do, that is now on him, (again, the dialogue). And he no longer has Frerin there either. Both to help him with that responsibility, and to potentially produce an heir.

Another point that plays off of that is what would happen after Erebor if Thorin survived BOTFA. Given that his whole personality seems to be "must reclaim Erebor", it got me thinking about what would happen if he did get to rule Erebor.

I don't think this is necessarily something I've seen really explored in a fic. Most tend to place him as adjusting well into the leadership role--which, I do think he would do quite well because he has been living his whole life for this moment--but I definitely think he would go through some sort of 'mid-life crisis'.

When he has reached the goal that he's been striving towards for basically his entire life, where does he go from there?

Does he know how to be anything other than the savior of his people? That seems to be the role he has had for the majority of his life.

Now, circling back around to Bag End, there's still one more bit of dialogue. One that I LOVE.

"There is no choice, Balin. Not for me."

Balin's earlier dialogue hits the nail on the head. Balin is telling Thorin that he does not have to reclaim Erebor. He has built them a life in the Blue Mountains that they are thriving on (now). He has placed his people before himself consistently. That reclaiming Erebor isn't just another part of his duties towards his people that he is required to perform. That he has a CHOICE about this.

And Thorin's response to that implies that he's never had a choice. Both from his grandfather/father, (who groomed him for the role of King), and from himself. That he is 'destined' so-to-speak to accomplish it. That his whole life has been leading to this moment right here.

That's my breakdown of Bag End and that scene there. And....it's long enough that I'll probably break these up.

[olderthannetfic]

https://www.tumblr.com/olderthannetfic/767420735500271616/so-the-thing-with-content-is-that-is-literally?source=share

The thing that makes the jellyfish hat content is that it is an object containing paper mache, fabric, cardboard, and the assorted accoutrements of jellyfish hat-making (the optional but popular add-ons go listed here in your head).

and implies that the container is more relevant in this specific context than the thing contained

No. that's not an implication. That's a thing you're making up in order to have an excuse to get angry about someone using a word you don't like, but it's not true. If I say, "I dumped open the contents of the box onto the floor", it is very easily discerned by most readers I am looking for something specific that is within the contents of that box. It is insanity to insist that the word content = the container being the most important thing on Earth. If I write "he opened the small box, revealing its' content: a single, small wedding ring" and you think the box is the focus, I just flat-out don't know what to tell you.

Setting that aside: holy shit, please calm down. I'm a bit busy with organizing resources for my local trans community at the moment but I promise you, there are worse problems than someone using a word you don't like. There was an election this year - don't know if you noticed - that impacts real people. Looking at all your anon and off-anon replies, the thing I keep thinking is, "Holy shit, who fucking cares? There are actual issues going on in the world right now!"

The fact that something I sent in during a ten minute snack break at work and quickly forgot about lives rent-free in your head to this degree days after it was said is highly, highly concerning. I cannot convey enough to you how much I did not mean to set off an episode in you, and at the same time, I am also very genuine when I say this may be a hill you're willing to die on, but it's not a hill I'm willing to kill you on. I kill people on important hills and jellyfish hats ain't it, chief.

It's wild to spend my time IRL trying to help people figure out what to do if our state makes it illegal for them to get HRT in-state and then pull up my phone and see someone this pressed about the word "content". Surely your life also has an important issue you could spend time on? No one is having a particularly good time right now. Maybe focus on a thing with literally any relevance to your quality of life whatsoever? I know that sounds glib. However, having had manic episodes where one thing someone said to me sent me over the edge, I'm not being glib. I really mean it when I say that redirecting your focus onto something important helps snap you out of it. It's how I got myself out of it before I was able to get medicated for my Bipolar Disorder. I take zero joy in seeing someone forth at the mouth because one person said one word and that made them spiral. I really do apologize, and I can see that this panic is a very real, valid emotion on your end. But 'valid' here is used only in the sense of 'I believe you when you say you feel panicked', not 'the panic is a logical, proportionate response to the trigger'. (As a side note, after this many anon and off-anon messages indicating fixation and extreme emotional overinvestment, I don't want anyone saying I misused the word trigger. This is not a proportionate response to someone using one word you dislike.)

The jellyfish hat contains materials needed to construct a hat. It doesn't need ads or legal agreements in order to contain cardboard, paper mache, etc. You are trying to make a mountain out of a molehill. Likely, you are taking your anger at something that actually matters and redirecting it onto this, a thing that does not matter. I'm not saying that in judgment - we all do it - but I am not going to be replying to this further. You may have a desire to use other people's words as an excuse to spiral but you'll have to find someone else to use the reason you're losing your shit.

The hat contains the materials needed to construct a hat. It's not that deep.

--

[floweringlino]

Macarons and kisses | L.F

𝙎𝙮𝙣𝙤𝙥𝙨𝙞𝙨 ; in which wherever she goes, he goes and the other way around.

𝙋𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜 ; pastry chef!Felix x Pastrychef!fem!reader

𝙉𝙤𝙩𝙚𝙨 ; fluff, tinie tiny bit angst, mentions of food, bullying by boss, crying, mention of alcohol, slightly suggestive near the end.

𝙒𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩 ; 2.3k

The gods menu masterlist

✎ ❀

“Y/N, how is the mise en place for tonight looking?” Her friend questioned her.

“Don’t you worry about me, Lix. Worry about that Gumbo thats burning on the stove.

He hurried away to continue his family meal for the rest of their colleagues, Stirring the stew.

Three years of culinary school, two years of training with the best pastry chefs that were around the world. Paris, Copenhagen and Brussels were the places she had trained and all of them took a lot from her. It was hard but it made her who she was and it got her to where she was today.

She knew what she was doing, maybe she was rhetorical best around. The only person that could challenge her in her ability's was Felix. The two of them had gone through a lot in the past, from starting school together to the job they were today. Y/n had followed Felix to the two star michelin restaurant they worked at the present day.

She liked her colleagues. Felix and her had made the pastry their own and powered through the short and difficult days. Hyunjin had also become a good friend of hers and that made her rough days there better.

There was only reason why the days were so bad to start with. Her only problem with this team was the chef. Never in her short but eventful carrier, she had even met a man like him. A man so pathetic, so mean and so heartless. He made her days horrible until the point she cried her way home. But that was the job she thought.

Not every experience is supposed to be a good one.

"Corner." She told her colleagues before making her way across the corner. She said a couple of behinds while passing her friends and made her way to the kitchenaid that was whisking the eggwhites.

Very slowly she poured the sugar water while the whisk was doing its thing. As the mixture started taking the texture that she needed a confident smile appeared on het lips.

"Y/L/N, you better not mess up those macarons, I might actually kill you."

And with that the smile fell again.

"Little does he know you never mess up your macarons." Felix bumped her shoulder a little bit to make her smile again.

"I don't do mess ups. Especially not here.”

"Everybody makes mistakes babes." He reminded her.

"Calm down Hannah Montana. I wanna live out this job before he kills me." She looked up at her best friend while still doing her work. So familiar with the recipe she didn't even need to look.

Felix was also already looking at her. It made her giggle so he felt like he accomplished his mission. The look he gave her was one of pure admiration. They both did the same thing but she did it with so much passion.

"Stop looking at me." She blushed and looked away, hoping he hadn't seen it. But someone had.

"Im sorry. Ill stop. Finish those and help me with family meal?" She nodded in response and watched him walk away to the stove where he had a stew cooking for dinner.

After a little while she left her macarons to rest for a little bit as the shiny layer needed to turn matte before pushing them into the oven. Leaving them alone she made her way over to her Friend.

"What can I help you with, Lix?" He turned around from his conversation with Hyunjin and stood next to her over the stew.

"Can you cut the okra, chorizo and the green onion? I want to add it last so that it stays crunchy at the end." She nodded in response and made a station next to Hyunjin. As she did the stuff Felix had asked her to do, Hyunjin poked her in her side to get her attention from her. To keep him annoyed a little bit she waiting with responding until he yelled.

"Yah! I wanna talk to you. Talk to meee! Im bored."

"Whats up Jinnie. How are we feeling?"

"Keep this a secret okay?" She nodded in response as a promise to keep his secret.

"Im kind of thinking of quitting." She was shocked, thinking she was the only one with a problem with Chef.

"And why would you? I respect your decision, obviously. Honestly same. But im confused. I thought you liked it here?"

"I do like it here. But something doesn't feel right. I don't know how to explain it to you."

✎ ❀

It was 12.00 at night when y/n was called into chefs office. Dinner service had just ended and the kitchen staff was done cleaning. Making their was over to the dressing rooms he picked her from the crowd. And the guys could follow the entire conversation through the walls.

"Y/n I called you here because there are some things in your behaviour that are just unacceptable and you need to change some things."

"Im sorry sir, what exactly are you talking about?"

Im talking about the fact that you are here to work. Not flirt with your colleagues." He said it with such a stern look on his fave that she had no idea if he was kidding or not.

"Im sorry?"

"Y/n, im gonna get straight to the point. So far you have disappointed me in your abilities and have shown me nothing that you can be proud of. We, the guys and me feel like you spend more time flirting with Felix than actually doing your job, and today I also saw you with Hyunjin. Leave the boys alone or im going to have to fire you."

"Sir im gonna tell you something and you might not like it, but this company that you try to run? It sucks. You're not gonna have to fire me because I quit affective immediately. You can keep my last paycheque and shove it up a place where the sun doesn't shine. I hope you lose your staff and those stupid stars you worked so hard for."

"Leave my office now."

"Already leaving. And if I were you, I'd start working on the rat problem you have. It would be a shame if someone saw one and made an anonymous complaint with the health department."

She slammed the door closed behind her, rushed her way past her colleagues with her hand in the air as in a motion for them to not touch her and when Felix tried to grab her hand she shook it away. Not wanting anything to do with him at this moment.

It took all of them a moment to realise what just actually happened and as soon as it was processed, Felix stepped into the office, Hyunjin following him closely.

Not a single tear was waisted on that pathetic excuse of a leader on her drive home. She couldn't help but laugh a little bit mixed with the anger she had let out. It had been building up for a while and now that it was all let out she felt sooo much better.

She didn't even worry about her job, she could easily get another one. Another thought crossed her minds but quickly pushed it away.

Sitting down on her couch she let herself sink in and enjoy the weight that had dropped off her shoulders.

Walking to her kitchen she grabbed a bottle of wine and poured herself a glass. After that she changed into her pyjamas and sat back down on the comfortabel couch, not planning to get up again.

What would she do. There were about twelve job offers she could consider but was that really what she wanted. Was this where she wanted to take her talent. Her mind wondered to a new place, her place. She had an investor that would be interested in her doing this so realistically it would work. But what that something she was ready for.

A knock on her door interrupted her thought. She groaned out of frustration not wanting to get off of the couch. She waited 10 seconds before opening her front door.

Standing in front of her in all of his glory was Felix. His now long blond hair was a bit wet from the light rain outside. He only smiled at her, opening his arms for a hug which she gladly accepted.

She found comfort in his arms and it eased her mind. His hand held she back of her neck closer to him and they just stood there for a minute before letting go and coming back inside. Without talking they sat down on the couch. She sat between his legs and halfway layed on his chest.

"What happened after I left?" She questioned, taking his hand in hers and playing with his fingers.

A chuckle left his mouth.

"We quit, Hyunjin and I. We talked about it before but this was the last push we needed."

"Lix! Why did you quit? You kinda need a job." She couldn't help but laugh a little bit at what he said.

"And you should know better. Where you go. I go. I moved to Denmark with you remember?. We'll have to tell our next job that we're a package deal." He winked at her when she looked up at and stared at his eyes.

"Lix, what if we didn't search for a new job?" She questioned him, sitting back up and turning to face him a little bit more. His face read confusion.

"What do you mean, love?"

"What if, we finally called back those investors and opened our own place?" Her eyes held hope. Hoping he would say yes. They had talked about it before, but now it was serious. She ment it this time.

She tried to read his face but there were so many emotions to notice. God, she hoped he would say yes. She didn't really know what else to do. Finally when his mouth turned into a smile he responded.

"Let's do this." He grinned at her and she threw her arms tightly around his neck.

"You sure?" She needed to ask him, maybe he felt like he was pressured.

"I thought about it, and I think we can do this. It may even be the next step for us." He gleamed at the idea now. It would be their place instead of only hers, where he would work. Both of them would be owners.

"Let's look at our old Pinterest boards!" She exclaimed excitedly, dragging her laptop to her lap, laying back against Felix his chest. He pushed her back for a second to stand up. He missed her warmth immediately but if she was gonna drink wine, so was he. Grabbing himself a glass and taking the rest of the full bottle with him he sat back on the back and let her rest against him again.

This time she pulled a blanket across their laps and comfortably sat on the couch, just talking through their ideas.

Pastry's, cookies, pie's, cakes, chocolates

Felix would do the chocolates because Y/N hated temping the mass. Absolutely hated it. She made Felix do it on her final assignment and she finished it with an 8. But it was fine cuz he made her make his Sabayon.

It now was 4 in the morning and Y/N was talking through the paint options, Felix was too distracted to listen to her talking. His eyes watched her lips move and he did hear her voice. But all he could think about was how beautiful she looked. So passionate she glowed with love.

He wanted to kiss her but her back was still resting on his chest. And the fact she was just his best friend. They had finished the wine long ago and he definitely wasn't drunk. He knew what he wanted, had wanted since they first met.

His point finger traced her jawline and cheek and she pressed into his touch, wanting more. His stare at her was intense as he traced his finger across her bottom lip. Against his chest he felt her heart skip a beat. Scared he had gone to far he pulled his hand away but was stopped when it was dragged back.

Fuck it he was gonna do this. His hand pulled her chin in his direction, turning her face his way. When their eyes looked it was pure love they both say, and without thinking he grabbed the back of her neck and her jaw and pressed his lips to her.

She didn't even need to think and eased into the loving kiss. She had wanted this for so long but was scared of what it would do to their friendship.

The kiss was intense but long awaited. In the kiss she turned around so she could sit in his lap the other way around now wrapping her legs around his waist and her arms wrapped around his neck pulling him even closer.

His hands slid to her back, underneath her pyjame. A soft moan from her, made him insert his tongue into her mouth, making the  kiss even deeper than it already was.

"God you're so beautiful." He whispered against her lips and he felt her smile against his.

"I can do this all day." He said again continuing the make-out in the couch. She fully sat on his lap, softly grinding against him, making him groan from the friction of the jeans against him.

"Then do me all day." She grinned and with that he lifted her from the couch, guiding hee to her own bedroom, where the night didn't end till the sun began to rise again

[proshippy-fox]

On the topic of the Mouthwashing discourse...

cw, mentions of sexual assault and Mouthwashing spoilers

Wrong Organ (developer of the game) spoke up in response to, well, the fandom being full of antis.

I believe this was mostly in response to a fanart of Anya showing skin and whatnot by a Japanese user, who then received a lot of harassment because Anya was sexually assaulted by another character in the story.

First of all, obligatory "Based Organ" joke.

And before I get into the second point, I will say that I am NOT an SA survivor, so do not take my word as final. It is only my own personal opinion, and every person that IS a SA survivor will not hold the same exact opinions and attitudes as each other because no one's experience is universal and no one is a carbon copy of another.

Second point, just because Anya is an SA survivor doesn't mean she should be held to some standard of never being sexualized? Of course first and foremost it's because she's a fictional character, but also just because someone has been sexually assaulted doesn't mean they're suddenly a sexless person who doesn't want any sort of sexual intimacy? I'm sure it's true for some, but SA survivors are still allowed to want to look good, or wear sexy clothes if they so desire. Being a survivor doesn't mean you suddenly have to abstain from anything to do with sex.

idk, it feels as though antis already like to baby fictional characters, especially one that was SA'd, and don't end up really thinking much further than "must protect the interpretation of this character and keep them *pure* and *untouched*" or something.