#((i told myself when i was debating making this blog))

[asinglesock]

just realized my fatal flaw and the great struggle of possibly the rest of my life. while watching a cdrama.

[arobinwithoutbatman]

Hey uh convenient teleporting thing? Could really do with you being super convenient and sending me home right now. Please?

[moonselune]

Hi! I love your writing, it brings allot of comfort and I find myself re-reading it all! 😍

Could I please request a human Tav with Gale and Halsin (either together or separately) that catches a cold while travelling and just cuteness, a little angst and fluff? Just a Tav being taken care of by them 😍

Your blog is a delight and I love coming back to it, it really does bring joy 💖 hope you have a wonderful week!

Thank you so much !! I hope you have a wonderful week too and messages like this really help keep the motivation levels up !

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Gale:

The road to Baldur’s Gate had been long and rough, and while you tried to push through the fatigue gnawing at your bones, there was no denying the creeping cold that had settled in. At first, it was little more than an irritating scratch at the back of your throat, then a mild headache you brushed off as nothing, but by the time you reached the outskirts of the next village, a full-blown cold had taken over, making you feel sluggish, your head stuffed with cotton.

You sneezed violently for what felt like the hundredth time, your whole body jolting with the force of it. Your lover, Gale, was nearby, and immediately his eyes darted towards you with concern. He’d noticed your symptoms earlier, of course—he always did. Gale was observant to the point of being overly cautious, especially when it came to your well-being.

“Are you alright?” he asked, his brow furrowing as he took a few steps closer. His tone was gentle, but there was an undercurrent of worry that he wasn’t even trying to hide.

“I’m fine, really,” you said, trying to wave him off with a smile. But even as the words left your mouth, your voice cracked, followed by another sudden sneeze. Gale sighed deeply, his hand coming to rest on your arm.

“You’re not fine, my dear. You’re sick, and you know it.” His gaze softened as he brushed a loose strand of hair from your face. “You need to rest. I don’t want you pushing yourself any further.”

“I’m not that bad,” you muttered, feeling defensive. “It’s just a cold.”

But Gale wasn’t buying it. “Even ‘just a cold’ can turn serious if you don’t take care of yourself. You should stay at camp, let me handle things.”

You crossed your arms, frowning up at him. “I can still fight, Gale. I’m not some helpless—” You were cut off by another sneeze, this one even more violent than the last, and you couldn’t help but wince as it sent a sharp pang through your chest.

Gale’s face softened even more, but there was a firm resolve behind his eyes now. “I won’t let you endanger yourself. You’re staying here today. That’s final.”

Despite your best efforts to argue, Gale’s tone left little room for debate. His worry for you was palpable, and it made your heart ache a little. Still, you weren’t the type to sit idle while your companions faced danger, and the thought of staying behind, even while feeling miserable, didn’t sit well with you.

But you let it go, for now, returning to camp as Gale suggested.

By the time the next skirmish rolled around, you had grown restless. Despite Gale’s insistence that you stay back and recover, you couldn’t stand the idea of missing out on the adventure. So, despite your scratchy throat and persistent sneezing, you grabbed your gear and followed the party at a distance, trying to stay unnoticed.

Of course, Gale noticed immediately. He always did.

“Love, what are you doing?” he asked when you caught up to them just outside the edge of the forest.

You tried to play it off, shrugging casually. “I told you, I’m fine. I don’t want to sit around doing nothing.”

But Gale’s eyes narrowed, frustration mingling with the concern etched across his face.

“You’re supposed to be resting,” he said, voice a touch sharper now. “You’re sick, and you need to stay back.”

Before you could protest further, Gale’s hands began to glow softly, arcane energy weaving between his fingers as he muttered a few words under his breath. Before you could react, you were suddenly engulfed in a swirl of magic, the world around you shifting as you were teleported back to camp.

You landed softly on your bedroll, blinking in surprise as you realized what he had done. Gale had just sent you back, and without even waiting for you to argue about it. A wave of indignation surged through you, followed quickly by a deep sulk as you pulled your blanket up around your shoulders. How dare he teleport you like that! You weren’t a child who needed to be coddled.

Besides you were just waiting for the lecture from Lae'zel on allowing 'your wizard' to use powerful magic on you and not on the battlefield.

And yet, as you sat there, pouting, your body betrayed you with another sneeze. You groaned, rubbing at your nose, frustration mounting.

It wasn’t long before Gale returned to camp, the skirmish evidently over. His shoulders were tense as he approached, but the moment his eyes fell on you, his expression softened—though there was a flicker of amusement behind the concern.

“Sulking, are we?” Gale asked, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he knelt down beside you.

You crossed your arms, looking away stubbornly. “I’m not sulking.”

“You’re pouting,” Gale said gently, reaching out to brush his hand across your cheek. “And sneezing, and coughing. And if I recall correctly, you promised you weren’t sick.”

“I’m not,” you muttered, even as your nose twitched with another sneeze. “I can handle it.”

Gale’s smile widened just a bit, but it was laced with tenderness. He reached out, taking your hand in his, his thumb gently stroking the back of it. “You don’t always have to handle everything, you know. It’s okay to let someone take care of you.”

His words broke through your defenses, and you finally let out a sigh, the tension melting away. You knew he was right. You had been stubborn, pushing yourself when you really should have rested.

“I just… I don’t want to feel useless,” you admitted softly, not meeting his eyes. “I don’t want to be a burden.”

Gale’s expression softened even more, and he lifted your hand to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to your knuckles.

“You could never be a burden,” he said quietly, his eyes full of warmth and love. “You are the strongest person I know, but even the strongest need time to heal. And I’m here to make sure you do.”

You looked at him, the sincerity in his voice making your heart swell. His fingers moved to brush a lock of hair away from your face, and he smiled that gentle, reassuring smile that always made you feel safe.

“Let me take care of you,” Gale said softly, his voice full of affection. “Please.”

With a final, resigned sigh, you nodded, leaning into his touch. “Alright… but only because you’re so insistent.”

Gale chuckled softly, pulling you into his arms as he wrapped the blanket more snugly around you. “Good. Now, no more sneaking off to join the battles, alright? Just rest here with me.”

You smiled, resting your head against his shoulder. “I suppose I can do that.”

And for the first time in days, you felt the tension ease from your body as Gale held you close, his warmth and love surrounding you, making you feel truly cared for.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Halsin:

The road to Baldur’s Gate stretched ahead, its path winding through dense forests and rocky terrain. The air had grown cooler as autumn settled in, its crisp bite seeping through your clothes, but you brushed off the chill as nothing more than an inconvenience. You'd felt the beginnings of a cold coming on a few days ago—scratchy throat, slight sniffles—but nothing you thought worth mentioning. After all, you were on an important journey, and the idea of staying behind to rest felt like a waste of time.

Unfortunately, your lover, Halsin, didn’t see it that way. As an elf, he was more attuned to subtle shifts in health, and your symptoms hadn’t gone unnoticed. He’d been doting on you since the first sign of a cough, worry etched into his brow every time he looked at you. It seemed that no matter how much you assured him you were fine, Halsin couldn’t shake his concern.

“Humans do not have the same resilience as elves,” he had reminded you, gently but firmly. “Your body needs rest and care, and I will see to it.”

At first, you found his attentiveness endearing. He always kept an extra blanket for you at night, made sure you had the warmest spot by the fire, and even brewed some herbal tea to ease your throat. But over the past few days, his doting had turned into something more… smothering. He hovered around you, always checking on you, insisting you rest when you wanted to help out with camp duties or join the others on patrol. It was sweet, but you were starting to feel like you were suffocating under his care.

Today, the group had been caught off guard by an ambush—nothing unusual on the dangerous road to Baldur’s Gate, but the sudden attack led to chaos, forcing everyone into battle positions. Despite your cold, you fought alongside your companions, determined not to be seen as fragile or incapable. Halsin had given you a worried look before the fight began, but he didn’t have time to protest as the enemy closed in.

In the thick of the battle, you found yourself backing toward the edge of a river, fighting off an attacker with all your strength. The cold air stung your lungs with every breath, and your body felt heavier than usual, but you pressed on, swinging your weapon to parry a blow. Just as you thought you had the upper hand, your foot slipped on the damp grass, and you tumbled backward—straight into the freezing river.

The shock of the cold water hit you like a hammer. It soaked through your clothes in an instant, chilling you to the bone as the current tried to sweep you downstream. For a moment, you gasped, disoriented, your body slow to react as you struggled to swim back to the shore.

Before you could even find your bearings, a pair of strong hands yanked you out of the water, hauling you onto the bank with ease. It was Halsin, his face a mixture of panic and determination as he pulled you into his arms, cradling you close to his chest.

“Halsin, I—” you tried to speak, but your teeth were chattering too hard.

“You’re freezing,” he growled, his deep voice rough with worry. Without another word, he lifted you as though you weighed nothing, carrying you away from the battlefield.

“Lae’zel! Take command!” Halsin called over his shoulder, his gaze never leaving you. Lae’zel, in the middle of fending off a foe, snapped her head in his direction.

“The battle isn’t over!” she barked, her eyes narrowing in frustration.

But Halsin didn’t falter.

“She is my priority,” he said, his voice firm, brooking no argument. “I will not risk her health.”

You wanted to protest, to tell him that you were fine, but the truth was the cold water had sapped your strength more than you cared to admit. Your body felt sluggish, and you could feel the deep chill settling into your bones. As much as you wanted to argue, Halsin’s warmth and the steady beat of his heart were oddly comforting, and you found yourself leaning into his embrace as he carried you back to camp.

When you arrived, Halsin wasted no time. He set you down gently by the fire, his brow furrowed as he grabbed blankets, piling them over you with an almost frantic determination. The fire crackled, its heat seeping into your chilled skin, but Halsin wasn’t satisfied with that alone. He knelt beside you, his hands cupping your face, his eyes searching yours for any sign of distress.

“I should have made you stay at camp,” he murmured, his voice low and laced with guilt. “I knew this journey was taking a toll on you, and yet I let you fight.”

“Halsin, really, I’m fine,” you croaked out, though your voice betrayed you with a shiver. But Halsin wasn’t convinced.

“You’re cold and drenched, and humans—” He cut himself off, shaking his head. “It doesn’t matter. You need to rest now.”

With that, he moved away from you, but only briefly. You watched as he took a deep breath, and with a shimmer of magic, he shifted into his bear form. The enormous creature padded over to you, its massive body radiating warmth. Gently, he nudged you, urging you to lean against him, and though you felt a bit ridiculous at first, you couldn’t deny how comforting his warmth was.

You settled against his side, your head resting on his thick fur, and immediately felt the tension in your body begin to melt away. His bear form was like a living furnace, enveloping you in a cocoon of warmth that made the fire seem like nothing more than a flicker.

As you relaxed against him, you heard the soft rumble of his breathing, steady and soothing. You knew Halsin had been fretting over you, and though you didn’t want to admit it, his smothering care wasn’t entirely unwelcome. It was comforting to know how deeply he cared for you, how fiercely he wanted to protect you, even when you insisted you didn’t need it.

“Maybe you’re right,” you mumbled sleepily, your head growing heavy against his warm fur. “I do need to rest.”

A soft rumble of approval came from Halsin’s bear form, and as you drifted off to sleep, wrapped in blankets and his protective embrace, you couldn’t help but smile. Maybe being smothered by him wasn’t so bad after all.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Omfg this was so cute I absolutely adored writing this and there will definintely be a continuation with the other characters !! Hope you guys enjoyed this ! - Seluney xox

If you want to support me in other ways | Help keep this moonmaiden caffeinated x

[kahluah]

*puts hand up* sorry I’m very new here what’s the context with what’s happening with the tag war??

Alright, I will give my run down, but I will not be naming any blog names on either side even if I have the info and the action was net positive. I just like to use my blog to scroll and reblog for the most part and refuse to embroil myself in the drama more than just giving my view on it as a bystander. One that definitely has an opinion on the events, but also as someone who would rather curate my own experience than fight.

So all this fighting that is going on, it used to just happen in the normal "Jiang Cheng" tag because back then there was no "canon Jiang Cheng" tag; it had not been created yet. (By that I mean it was not a tag used as a tag, Tumblr's shitty search algorithm might still show posts if one typed it in to the search bar because those posts had the words 'canon', 'Jiang', and 'Cheng' in the tags separately, but there would not be posts with "#canon Jiang Cheng" because nobody normally creates a post with a tag like that when "#Jiang Cheng" was suffice. Sometimes I see irrelevant posts in the canon Jiang Cheng tag, but the actual tag isn't on the post, the tags just happen to have all three words in them. Those I ignore because that is Tumblr's fault, not the poster.)

The fighting was between people that like the character and prefer to see the good in him and the interpretation of his character, and those that may or may not like the character (just because you like a character does not mean you need to defend their every action after all) but do not share that opinion of his character and have a more neutral or negative portrayal by contrast. The former also tended to favor or have only read the novel as it is the source material for all other adaptations.

Now things really came to a head when hate and threats were being thrown about on posts that were just quotes from the book showing the negative actions of Jiang Cheng. The people posting the quotes were basically told "if you hate the character why don't you just tag the post as anti-JC?!" but is it really right to call those anti posts when they were posting how the character acts in the source material? That is the character. That is how he acted. Look it is in the book! The character really did that! It is not somebody's negative headcanon that the character may act like that, it is something the character actually did. Personally I can not consider that as an anti character post, and neither did the people who made posts like that.

But things did get heated enough that some people finally took a step back and said "Fine. You want us to make our own space to make these posts so that you do not have to see us talk about JC this way? We will. It will be #canon Jiang Cheng and you can block it if you don't want to see the posts." Was the name picked in the spirit of schadenfreude? Very probable, but it is also not an incorrect name as the people who wanted to use it base their opinion on the novel. But the point was that the tag was created so that people now had their own space to make the posts they wanted and those that did not want to see it could block the tag. Curate your own experience; we can block tags on this site for a reason and advertising tags to block is a courtesy. (Because as said previously, the search here sucks, because the posts contain the character's name they are still likely to show up in the main tag, but block the newly created tag and you will not see those posts either way). Could the other people come into the tag in good faith and make arguments with textual support? Yeah, that was welcomed, but in the spirit of debate they should expect rebuttal. Was that what happened? No.

No instead what happened was basically this meme

They did not like the name chosen for the tag. They read the novel too and still believe that JC is good, so they should be able to use the tag too! Never mind the fact that the tag was made so they could block the posts they didn't want to see. So that they can go on with their days no longer having to deal with the people they constantly fought with. No. Instead of curating the experience of this website, they would get so hung up on the fact that there was now a tag called #canon Jiang Cheng in use that they had to use it too to defend JC from the people that post 'negative' things about him; even if it is novel text!

So while the fighting didn't stop, it did get slightly better because not everyone felt the need to jump into the new tag to defend their fave. Some people actually did curate their experience. Plus there is a block button and people do use it, so things got to a point where I would say it was relatively stable even if there was still fights here and there. (But once again I lurk, I do not participate. Things may not have been the same for more outspoken people).

But then a certain muskrat bought Twitter and a chunk of the fandom there fled here. That's when the main push to "reclaim the tag" and the new influx of people hopping into the tag to argue and defend their fave appeared. These people did not know why the tag was made, they just saw blogs that they liked telling people about the "JC-antis" that made it and how with the new people pouring into the Tumblr fandom from twitter, they had a chance to flood it and reclaim it. And since then the fighting has not really stopped.

As for what has happened in the past few days, you have JC defenders flooding the tag with fan art (not canon), screen caps from CLQ (not canon), and screenshots of a sentence or two from the novel (canon, but usually out of context or lacking additional lines that go on to rebut what was previously said) in the tag and the people who made the tag for a specific purpose getting mad about the spam. (I block so I have no clue how big the influx was or whatever but there was definitely like at least 3 new people I had to block). So when they made posts venting the anger, you got JC defenders coming back to them and going "But I never sent any hate or harassment! I just used the tag to talk about the canon character!" And perhaps they didn't, but these people in their defense always ignore and never respond to the question of why they are in the tag instead of blocking it because that is what the tag was made for. Instead they come back with "Well if you want to talk about JC that way, why don't you post in the anti tag or make your own tag!"... Remember that meme picture I used above. Yup.

The tag war began because people did not like negative posts about JC in the main character tag for JC. When told to use the anti tag or make a new tag, a new tag was made, but instead of curating the experience the stans of JC got so tilted at the name of the tag that they decided that they would come into the tag and continue the fight instead of just blocking it. Twitter fallout made the fighting worse. And now we have come full circle to the JC stans once again telling people to just use the anti tag or make their own tag.

[ailesswhumptober]

Hi. I definitely felt refreshed reading your hard stance and information on ai in your pinned, but irrelevant to that, I only found your blog today and I feel like I missed something with AI and whumptober. Can I learn about that? I hope my language makes sense.

In the late summer of 2023, an anonymous user asked the Whumptober blog if AI-generated content would be allowed for the event. This anon did not come from any of us, nor do we know who originally send this ask, but one of us did see Whumptober's response which kickstarted this entire thing.

Whumptober responded that they would not be disallowing AI because they "do not want to police how other people create things" and "didn't want to exclude anybody" but that they would "discourage" AI-generated content "because it feels like cheating" (all direct quotes).

Myself, the other mods, and several more people, were very disappointed in this stance. several of us started replying to the post and got into a back-and-forth with the Whumptober mods about why AI-generated content is harmful and bad. These posts and replies have since been mostly deleted by the Whumptober blog, nor do we want to rehash the entire thing, but some of the stances that Whumptober took that really rubbed us wrong were (again with direct quotes):

"AI-generated content is not art theft". When pointed out that these sorts of applications very much scrape content without consent, Whumptober claimed that it's the AI that steals then, not the person who uses the AI. They also claimed that since the AI already scraped the content, you "might as well use it", that defending against AI scraping is "going down on an already burning hill" and that "if you don't want your content scraped/stolen, just don't post it online". We found these very concerning statements from an event made by and for creators.

"AI-generated content is a fandom issue and nobody in the real world is harmed by it". This is, obviously, factually incorrect. When we pointed out real creators in many creative industries are being hit hard because of AI-generation, they said "that's capitalism's fault, not AI-generation" (???) and they also told us to "touch grass".

"These sort of AIs are an accessibility tool for the disabled, so disliking them is ableism". Again, this is incorrect. They tried to liken it to predictive text or spell check. We pointed out that there's a vast difference between those machine learning tools and actually generative AI that subsides on scraped content. We said disabled people (many of whom were involved in the back-and-forth) are sick of being used as a strawman by tech bros. They then said "real disabled people probably feel differently" which was a slap in the face, and honestly the thing that still is the most horrible to me about this whole thing.

This is the point where Whumptober started to block a bunch of us and delete asks/replies. They made a post that falsely made it seem like we were harassing and bullying them for saying that they "couldn't check every single entry for AI-generated content". We pointed out multiple times that we absolutely did not expect them to, since we're very aware that with the size of the Whumptober event, it would be impossible. We'd just like them to say 'AI-generated content is not allowed and it's art theft' but apparently they didn't want to.

After this one of the mods DMed me and asked me to send them some resources on why AI-generated content and scraping AI is bad, so they could educate themselves. We spent several minutes collecting sources (some linked in our pinned). They said the Whumptober mods would read them, and then come to a standpoint. But then within less than a minute of us sending the links, they deleted the remaining posts involved in the debate, and just told us they were sticking to their standpoint that "We will not police how people create things, we'll just discourage people by not reblogging it". They also added to their pinned that they won't ever respond to any asks about AI-generated content again. So that was that.

Somewhere during the argument, the Whumptober mods told us that if we disliked their stance so much, we should just make our own event. So we did.

(Edit to add: regardless on if whumptober does change their policy, we never received any sort of acknowledgement or apology of the above and we will keep running this event for whoever wants to.)

[theroundbartable]

My position on the war in Israel/ Palestine

Below the cut, because this is my opinion, and you are, of course, not expected to share it, or even care about my position at all. You might not even like what I have to say.

This is for myself and for the people who decide whom to follow based on the flags I raise in my bio (which is none).

It's a bit long, sorry.

The war in Israel/Palestine has now been going on for over a year and I keep seeing blogs that are entirely pro palestine, and then others who are entirely Israeli, accusing each other of rape and murder and genocide, of antisemitism and zionism, etc. etc. Most of these accusations were fact checked and true. Some arguments I heard of people were quite obviously formed through what their government told them, might even lied to them about. I cannot blame these people for clinging to faith, to clinging to the vague idea that there is a sense to their suffering, or who are trying to deflect of their own guilt.

I am German. I know the arguments. I know why they exist and I cannot blame people who's life might be depending on that hope, who's sanity might depend on that faith.

So far, I have not really posted my own opinion on it and I understand that my position on this is not a common one. Nor is it one that many people will accept or find satisfying. Never the less, this is my point.

Under normal circumstances, I would never have made a post and I already am very late to the debate, but since elections in the US are up and more dangerous than ever, since the debates and the war lead to attacks on people online and world wide, since all this enables the same fascistic views that once dominated my country and are threatening to dominate the field once again, I think I should at least say something.

I need to, in order to make up the the past my grandfather took part in as a German soldier, to honor my grandmother's memory who welcomed refugees of war and "war criminals" who were stationed in the neighboring Arbeitslager in her home; in her home where she was all alone with her sick father and waited for the news of her brothers falling in the war while the polish captive cooked them dinner and taught her to read. I need to, as someone who's ancestors were both shooting and housing their enemies. As someone who carries both the guilt and the pride into the next generation.

This is not a football game.

I can't go and pick a side and root for their win. I can't go out on the street with other students and hold up "free palestine" signs, when I know that the words are war propaganda from a group of terrorists. I can't go and side with Israel and justify a genocide by telling people they are being antisemitic if they criticise the Israeli government.

It is the Israeli government under Netanjahu, it is the Hamas who are fighting this war, and to say that the people under their leadership aren't in on it is naive to a degree.

We are not talking about winning and losing here. Because there are no winners in war. I CANNOT debate on who's human rights are worth more than the other. I CANNOT ignore that the Hamas started the war, I cannot ignore that they abuse their captives, I cannot excuse that the Israeli government shoots back at hospitals and abuses their own captives as well.

I can't choose between the grays, because to me, they are the same shade.

But to say they are all supporting those leaderships, to say that not most of them are just trying to survive is terrifyingly cold. That would be like saying they deserve what is happening to them and that can never be the truth.

This doesn't mean I'm not judging between the two. I judge the obvious violence on both sides, I fear for the victims on both accounts, I hate the idea that categorises who is allowed to live where in the country, I despise the idea that Israel alone is to blame.

"You can't not pick a side."

I did. Because there is not just two sides to this war. There is three or four, perhaps even more than that.

There is the terror organisation, there is the government, and then there is the people stuck in the crossfire. I refuse to side with the criminals. I refuse to side with the abusers. They are both wrong, they are both murderous and violent, and siding with one would be - for me - like pointing the gun at the other.

That said, I do not believe that people who raise the palestine flags are wrong, neither do I judge the Israel one. Both sides deserve justice for what happend and what continues to happen. But to a German who only raises the flag once every four yeara at soccer games, worshipping the government that is doing all this, that feels wrong. I know that my view is distorted because of my family's Nazi history, but I can't help feeling that way.

If we're talking about violence, justice would mean that more violence is the answer. An eye for an eye is justice too, but this will never result in peace.

Quite honestly, I don't even think a two state solution would be the answer either. It could be, if Hamas and Israel wanted peace. If Natanjahus war wasn't a ploy to keep himself in power. As it is right now, with the war expanding, even if they managed to somewhat put down their weapons, they will continue to be neighboring enemies, they will continue to hate each other and they will continue to never forgive, to never forget, justifying future reasons to war.

Honestly, I'm not arrogant enough to say I know the solution. All I know is that I know where I stand. And I will never, under any circumstances, judge you if you live in Isreal or in palestine. Nor will I judge you for fighting for each of their rights. Because unless you wish for the complete destruction of the other, unless you justify a genocide, then I am on your side. Because you are, in this war, on your own. And I don't want to see you there alone.

And I will not raise your flag, I will not raise the flag of your enemy, I don't even raise my own flags because I'm honestly not that much into soccer. Because I separate you and your life from the system you live in.

All I can do is tell you that if you flee to Germany, I will be one of the people voting for your safety, for your right to stay, and for being properly integrated. I will not side with the right wing fascists that dominate this country. I will not side with people who simply picked their favorite oppressor. It's not enough to save you. But I'm not a hero. I can only refuse to be the villain.

This makes my position obviously debatable, to some even unacceptable, and I understand that it's not very satisfying to read this from someone who is lucky and priviledged enough to watch from the sidelines.

But I simply cannot support either of these systems. Because neither of them value human life, let alone human rights.

[yellowocaballero]

RE: Your post about Israel. You want me to just, hate a country? Many of my friends are Jewish or Israeli. It seems reductive to say “if you support Israel at all DNI.” Big “Us Vs. Them” and “Inability to separate government from people” vibes.

You're embarrassing yourself. Defending a genocidal ethnostate online from the mean bloggers who tell its defenders to get out of her sight with these limp and tired 'points' is embarrassing for you. I hope you're a teenager, because thinking of you as a gullible teenager is the nicest way I can think of you.

It's massively insulting to Jewish people to equivocate being Jewish with being pro-Israel Zionist. Apparently you believe that "living in a country" = "supporting a country's actions", which matches up well with your obvious inability to have a single thought for yourself when you can deepthroat apartheid propaganda instead. It is actually kind of funny that you're clutching your pearls over being told I hate a country, when I'm guessing that you share Israel's fundamental belief that all Palestinian men, women, and children should be wiped off the face of the Earth.

More than that, it's actively depressing that in my inbox contains a criminally stupid Zionist who got offended when I drew boundaries in my own blog and decided to send a crying anon about it to me; and next to it I have an ask from a Palestinian begging for money so he can save his family's life. Delivering cool dunks against you would be extremely easy and would make me feel like a cool #activist but it feels actively stupid to do so at this point in time. I made a post blasting the fact that I don't want to engage in a debate and that I'm deeply intolerant of pro-Israel and Zionist views, and you rolled up trying to debate with me over it instead of blocking me and moving on. I'm not going to step into your Tumblr slapfest out of the desire to give sweet dunks or delude myself into thinking that I can change the mind of someone who just wanted to start an argument for the sake of it. My greatest hope for you as a person is that you're deeply ashamed of yourself in ten years, but at this point you're probably so entrenched into your victim complex that you've chosen to die on the hill of people shooting children in the head.

You're wasting your life and polluting your soul, so do what I told you to do in the first place and go someplace where I'm not asked to waste my own life speaking to you.

[sluttywonwoo]

instead of you [part eleven] || l.mh

pairing: [best friend’s brother] lee minho x college!reader ft. han jisung

summary: you didn’t expect to spend your summer pretending to be your best friend’s girlfriend- then again, you didn’t expect to fall for your best friend’s brother, either. 

warnings: swearing, alcohol, smut - female masturbation (18+ mdni)

word count: 4.8k

a/n: revamped my tom holland series from my main blog ( @wazzupmrstark ) to try and motivate myself to finish it!!

series masterlist | early access to the next chapter on ko-fi

Don’t tell Jisung. Jisung. JISUNG.

“Shit.”

You had to fix this in a matter of seconds. Should you slap him? Act like nothing happened? Pretend you were drunker than you actually were and play dumb?

“Wait, you’re not Jisung?” you squinted your eyes like you were trying to see who was in front of you, acting like you were too drunk to remember who you were with. “Oh my god.”

“Y/n, I’m so sorry,” Minho tried. 

“I-” you didn’t know how to respond. “Why did you do that?”

He ran a hand through his hair and shook his head. “I don’t know, it didn’t mean anything!” You’d be lying if you told yourself that didn’t sting a little. If he didn’t have any sort of feelings for you, why would he kiss you? “I wasn’t thinking.”

“No, you weren’t.”

“I’m sorry,” he repeated. “Please don’t tell my brother.”

“You want me to lie to my boyfriend?”

“I mean, is it lying if you just don’t mention it?”

“It’s a lie of omission- are you really going to debate me about philosophy right now?”

“Then yes, I do want you to lie to your boyfriend because if he finds out he’ll never speak to me again.”

“You realize what kind of position that puts me in?”

He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Yes.”

`You couldn’t even think straight. Feelings of confusion, panic, anger, and regret fought for control of your conscience. “What if someone had seen us? Taken a picture of us? You’re a public fucking figure, Minho. That could’ve put your career at risk.”

“Don’t you think I know that?” he growled. “I don’t need you to lecture me on how stupid it was.”

“You’re an asshole,” you scoffed.

“I know.”

You stood from the table to leave, hoping he wouldn’t follow you, but he called after you, your name echoing in your ears like a warning. Reluctantly, you turned back to face him with a bitter taste on your tongue.

“You won’t tell him, right?”

You stared him down for a moment, watching nerves etch themselves onto his features before answering. “You don’t have to worry about it.”

It was a promise you didn’t want to make, but you felt like you had no other choice. You hadn’t just broken the ‘no flirting’ rule, you’d blown straight past it into completely uncharted territory. And technically Minho had been the one to initiate, you hadn’t kissed him back, but you couldn’t say you hadn’t felt something when he did. 

You had never lied to Jisung before- at least not on this scale. You felt sick to your stomach, and it had nothing to do with the alcohol. 

You almost didn’t want to go back to your room. You urged the elevator to go as slow as possible as you checked your appearance in the reflective wall. The tarnished gold was smudged with handprints, but you were still able to make out your ruined lipstick. You weren’t sure it had been messed up sometime during dinner, or if it was Minho’s doing but you couldn’t take a chance. You used your thumb to wipe away the evidence as the intercom on the elevator let out a ding to let you know you’d reached your floor.

With a shaky breath you pushed yourself into the hallway and forced yourself to put one foot in front of the other to walk to your room. You didn’t have a key, so you had to knock. You half-hoped Jisung was already asleep, even if it meant you’d have to spend the night in the hallway. 

But as luck would have it he was still up and he opened the door seconds later. He was definitely out of it, blinking at you to put you in focus. 

“There you are,” he said tiredly, rubbing one of his eyes with his hand. “I was wondering when you’d come up.”

“I hope I didn’t keep you up,” you apologized as you breezed past him into the room. 

“Nah, I was just messing around.”

A lie, you knew, but you let it slide knowing you were keeping a much bigger secret. He was already dressed for bed in his boxers and one of your t-shirts and his hair was wet from a shower. 

“Are you okay?” he asked, noticing your anxious energy.

You nodded. “I had too much to drink.”

“Ah, me too, I think. Come take a shower. It’ll help.” 

You took his advice and tried to sober up in the shower, letting the cold water run over your bare skin until you were shivering. When it didn’t make you feel any better you turned off the faucet completely and dried off, wrapping a towel around your body and sitting on the edge of the tub. 

“Y/n?” came Jisung’s muffled voice from the other side of the door. 

“Yeah?”

“Are you sure you’re okay?” 

You sighed. Why did he have to know you better than you knew yourself? You pushed yourself up from the tub and opened the door. 

“I had like three more shots after you left,” you mumbled.

The color drained from his face as he took in this additional information and he frowned. “Jesus, I thought I was drunk. Do you feel sick?”

“Not yet.”

“Okay, well let’s go to bed,” he urged. His accent was always thicker when he was drunk, and in a funny way it sounded like home, like all of those Friday nights back on campus. 

Jisung gave you space to change into your clothes for bed and crawled under the covers to wait for you. You dressed yourself, hung your towel in the bathroom, and shut off the main light before feeling your way through the darkness over to the bed. 

You managed to get your drunk ass in bed without tripping which you considered to be a miracle. Jisung slung his arm across your stomach as soon as you settled on the mattress and pulled you against his hip. You tensed underneath his touch, but he didn’t seem to notice. 

You couldn’t relax no matter how hard you tried, and sleep taunted you for hours, hovering just out of your reach. 

Jisung’s alarm woke you from restless dreaming some hours later, when the sun had barely brushed the horizon. 

You groaned and rolled over onto your stomach, burying your face in your pillow. Your head was pounding and you didn’t even want to think about facing Minho. The simple motion of rolling over had made you nauseous and you knew that standing up was going to be a whole nother ordeal. 

“Come on,” Jisung said, nudging you with his knee. He was already sitting up, rolling the tension out of his neck from a night on the stiff mattress. “We gotta be downstairs in a few minutes.”

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes and you felt pathetic. You didn’t have the strength to be around Minho today, especially with Jisung right there.

“Don’t feel good,” you moaned.

“We’re all hungover,” Jisung sighed. “We’re not even doing that much walking today.”

You turned your head enough for him to see the tears running down your cheeks and he pursed his lips, expression turning worried. 

“Oh.”

“Can you make something up?” you pleaded. 

He nodded. “I’ll tell them you have a fever or something.”

You swallowed your shame and squeezed your eyes shut, whispering thanks into his shirt. Jisung kissed your forehead and then got up. You vaguely heard him moving around the room getting ready, but drifted in and out of sleep as he did. 

Once he was dressed he softly told you goodbye, that he hoped you felt better, and that he’d bring you back some food later on. 

The door clicked shut and you let your guilt continue eating you alive. 

You wondered how Minho would react when Jisung told his family you weren’t feeling well, if his face would give anything away. He was an actor, he should be able to handle it. But you also wondered what he was feeling, if he felt as guilty as you did- or even more so. Or maybe he wouldn’t even care. You never knew when it came to him.

You rolled onto your back and propped yourself up on a pillow, using the free time to respond to some messages from friends and family. It was the middle of the night back in the States, but at least they’d wake up knowing you weren’t dead. To be fair, everyone knew your communication skills weren’t the best so they probably weren’t expecting anything from you anyway, but you still wanted to put in the effort. 

The rest of the day passed by quicker than you would’ve liked. You spent it in bed, tossing and turning as you desperately tried to fall back asleep. You kept pushing the blankets off of you, then burying yourself beneath them again, flipping between hot and cold. Maybe you really did have a fever. Your clothes were suffocating you so you ended up stripping and dropping them on the floor by the bed. 

By the mercy of some higher power you were able to nap for a couple of hours scattered throughout the afternoon, but by dinner time you were wide awake again and passed the time by watching Avatar: The Last Airbender in Italian on the hotel tv. 

It was playing an earlier episode, the one where the gaang visited Kyoshi Island. You couldn’t understand any of the dialogue, obviously, but you still found comfort in the familiar scenes. 

There was a knock on the door suddenly, startling you out of your focus. You jerked your head towards the sound and scrambled from the bed. You slipped back into your t-shirt, but didn’t bother putting on pants before opening the door because you figured it was just Jisung. And it was. He looked exhausted, but in the best kind of way and was holding a styrofoam container of food that was presumably for you.

“Forgot the key,” he said sheepishly, offering you the food. You smiled and took it from him, stepping aside to let him in. 

He didn’t take your cue, instead he stayed where he was standing in the doorway awkwardly. It was then that you realized he wasn’t alone, that his older brother had been standing behind him the entire time.

Jisung offered no explanation, only shrugged like he didn’t know why he was there either.

“Minho?” you asked, awaiting an explanation for yourself.

“Can we talk?”

“‘We’? Like, you and me?” you clarified, hoping you had misunderstood.

“Yeah, it’ll only take a second,” Minho assured you.

You looked to Jisung for help, but he looked just as lost as you were. “I’ll go try and find a microwave to heat up your leftovers,” he offered and took the container back from you. “I’ll be right back, babe.”

“Okay…”

You watched him shrug past both you and Minho and then disappear into the hallway with a sinking feeling in your chest, knowing he trusted you completely. He had no reason not to, and that’s what consumed you. 

“What do you want?” you muttered, reluctantly stepping to the side to let Minho in. 

He didn’t answer right away, giving you a moment to collect yourself. His eyes followed you around the room as you found your pants and tugged them on. He averted his gaze when he realized you were getting dressed mumbling a “sorry” as he trained his eyes on the carpet. 

You sat on the edge of the bed and looked at him expectantly, waiting for him to explain why he was there. 

“You weren’t there today,” was all he said. 

You blinked. “Yeah?”

“Was it because of me?”

“I wasn’t feeling well.”

Minho’s tongue poked at the inside of his cheek. “Is that all?”

“I had a lot to drink last night,” you reminded him. 

“So you don’t remember anything?”

“I never said that.”

“So it was because of me?”

“I never said that either.” You sighed. “If you’re here to ask me if I told him you kissed me, I didn’t. And you could’ve just texted me to ask.”

“No that’s not why- I don’t have your number anyway.”

“I’m in the trip group chat with your family.”

“Oh, right. I’ll save it to my contacts.”

The tension in the room was palpable. It felt like all of the air had been sucked out and replaced with thick, suffocating silence. Arbitrarily, you wondered who the most famous person in his phone was. He was a K-pop person, he probably had Seungkwan’s number, right? You didn’t know what group he was a part of but he was hot and you were always seeing tweets about him. Who would your contact information be sitting in between? Maybe if you ever forgave him for what he did you could ask him. 

“Is something funny?” The firmness of Minho’s voice cut through your train of thought and brought you back to the present. “Why are you smiling?”

“It doesn’t matter,” you said despondently. “Jisung’s  gonna be back soon. What did you want?”

“I just wanted to check up on you. Ji said you were sick.”

“Oh, so you wanted to see if I was lying?”

“No! God, why is it so hard to believe that I’m genuinely concerned about you?”

“Because last night you only seemed concerned about yourself.”

Minho pursed his lips and shoved his hands in his pockets, expelling a breath harshly. “Okay, I deserved that.”

You hummed in agreement, and let your eyes trail down the veins of his arms to where they disappeared into his pockets. It looked like he was fiddling with a coin or something small, but you couldn’t tell. 

“Are you feeling better?” he said the last part through gritted teeth.

“Yes, thank you. This chat has helped considerably.”

Minho rolled his eyes. “You’re impossible, you know that?”    

“Well, lucky for you I’m not your problem to deal with. I’m Jisung’s.”

He flexed his hand in his pocket and sighed. “Okay, well, I also wanted to apologize again for…” the word kiss seemed to die on his lips, poetic irony at its finest. “Being a dick.” Less poetic. 

He finally fished his hand out of his pocket, holding a delicate piece of paper between his pointer and index fingers. He shifted uncomfortably where he was leaning against the dresser. “We went to the Academic Gallery today. I saw this in the gift shop and thought of you.” He presented you with what turned out to be a postcard, creased down the middle unevenly and smudged with pen ink.

You turned it over to look at the front first, admiring the artwork printed on it. It was a picture of Michelangelo’s David drawn in swoopy black lines and filled in with watercolor paint. Instead of a museum, the statue was in the middle of a garden, the centerpiece among dozens upon dozens of flowers. 

“Sorry it’s folded,” he mumbled. “It wouldn’t fit in my pocket.”

You flipped it over to read the back only to see iou scribbled in his handwriting and nothing else. You turned it over again to see if you had missed something on the front, but there was nothing.

You looked up at him in confusion. “Iou?” 

“Yeah, you know… I feel really bad about last night, and I don’t really know how to make it up to you so I’m letting you decide.”

“That’s not really how it works.”

“I think that this counts as an exception since we’re kind of in uncharted territory.”

“Maybe for you. My boyfriend’s brothers make out with me all the time.”

“Fuck you, I didn’t make out with you- it was barely a peck.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “It was more than a peck.”

His cheeks were beginning to grow pink with what you couldn’t tell was either embarrassment or frustration. He cleared his throat awkwardly and changed the subject.

“Anyway, if you ever need a favor or anything, just let me know. Think of it as me owing you one.”

“And do I have to give back the postcard when I cash in this ‘favor’?” you asked.

“No, you can keep it.”

“Good, because I was going to keep it anyway.”

He chuckled in spite of himself and shook his head. “Knew you’d like it.”

You flattened the card on your lap, smiling as you tried to iron out the little crease with your fingers. 

“It’s pretty, thank you.”

Minho nodded in acknowledgment and straightened his posture. “I should get going. I just wanted to give you that, and see how you were doing since tomorrow’s a travel day and I know you get a little motion sick sometimes. I didn’t want… whatever you’d come down with to make it worse.”

How did he know that? Had Jisung told him? You didn’t have time to ask because he was already walking towards the door. He paused when he reached it and turned his head towards you, hand already on the knob. 

“Good night, y/n.”

“Good night, Minho.”

He opened the door and let himself out into the hallway, catching it suddenly on his foot as he saw Jisung coming off the elevator. Minho held the door for Jisung, since his hands were full, and then said goodnight to his brother as he finally left.

“Sorry, I couldn’t find the microwave,” he explained. “I had to ask the night manager and they heated it up in the break room for me.”

“Oh, Jisung, you didn’t have to do that! I would’ve eaten it cold.”

“I know you would have, and that’s why I’m not letting you.” You gave him a look, which he ignored and handed you the container of food. “It’s carbonara, it’s one of the things Rome is known for. I couldn’t have you eating it lukewarm.” 

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

He ran a hand through his hair and took a seat next to you on the edge of the bed, pulling the ottoman closer to use it as a makeshift table. He watched as you tried the first bite, gauging your reaction. It was something he did whenever he cooked for you, especially if he was trying out a new recipe. He always needed your approval, and valued it above anybody else’s. But he hadn’t even made this, and as his eyes searched your face you found yourself wondering if they were looking for something else. 

“Do you like it?” 

You breathed a quiet sigh of relief. Your paranoia was starting to get the better of you. “It’s delicious,” you assured him. “I’m sad I missed dinner.”

“I’m sad you missed the whole day. Spending time with my family without you was hell.”

“Oh come on, it’s probably good that you got some real family time.”

“It’s real family time when you’re there. It felt like something was missing.” 

You let a small smile slip past your lips despite the guilt that bubbled under the surface. You pushed it down and took another bite of the carbonara. 

“You’re not just saying that to make me feel better, are you? It can’t have all been bad. Tell me about the good stuff. I wanna hear that.”

Jisung nodded and pushed his bangs back again, grinning like he’d been caught. “Fine, maybe there were some okay moments.”

“And what were they?”

“We went to the Accademia Gallery today. I think you would have really liked it. They had a whole wing of instruments from some of the most famous inventors and musicians from history. They even had pianos from Bartolomeo Cristorfori, the inventor of the piano.”

“Wow,” you said, impressed. “I bet it was beautiful.”

“Of course if it was played, it wouldn’t sound anything like the piano we’re used to hearing today, but I’m sure it would still sound incredible.”

“Even if it hasn’t been tuned in a few hundred years?”

It was his turn to give you a look. “Yes, of course.”

“Sorry.”

“And they had a Stradivarius, I don’t even want to know how valuable that thing is. It must cost millions. I took some pictures for you, but I know they won’t compare to the real thing. The lighting in museums never does the art justice.”

He handed his phone to you to scroll through. You swiped the photos, smiling whenever you came across a selfie he’d taken with a statue or painting. You reached the pictures of David and couldn’t help but zoom in on-

“Hey!” Jisung yelped and grabbed his phone back from your hands.

“What!”

“Michelangelo would be so ashamed of you! I bet he’s rolling in his grave right now.”

“No way! If anyone appreciated good dick, it was Michelangelo.” 

“Unbelievable.” 

“If you don’t want me to judge these statue’s penises, don’t take pictures of them.”

“I didn’t take pictures of their penises! I took pictures of the whole statue- you’re zooming in on- you know what, nevermind. Arguing with you about this is pointless.”

“Smart boy.”

Jisung rolled his eyes at you and put his phone in his back pocket. “Oh yeah, did Minho give you that postcard?”

“He told you about that?” you asked, suddenly panicking. Jisung hadn’t said anything about last night so far, but maybe Minho had-

“Yeah, said he wanted to give you an iou for the limoncello last night.”

“What?”

“He said you paid the tab for it since he left his wallet in the room and that he wanted to pay you back for it.”

“Oh. Right.”

Another lie. You had very much not paid for the drinks last night. Minho had. And you knew he had to make an excuse for why he was buying his brother’s girlfriend something from the gift shop, but to add another lie to the ever-growing list made your throat burn with regret. You wouldn’t be able to keep the secret forever, and it was only a matter of time before everything came crashing down around you. 

-

In the morning you took the train from Rome to Naples, and then took a taxi to Sorrento to spend the last bit of your week in Italy by the sea. The atmosphere was much more relaxed than it had been in the busy cities of Rome and Florence. Even though there were still hordes of tourists, they were far more dispersed and less overbearing than you expected. The whole town seemed slowed down, like it had escaped the chokehold of time. 

Jisung’s parents took everyone out to lunch by the water and went over the schedule for the next day and a half. 

“So, you’re on your own after dinner tonight, and then tomorrow morning we’re going to take the ferry to Capri for the day before our flight that night,” Nikki explained as she read through the spreadsheet on her phone. 

“There’s an Irish pub down the street from our hotel,” Felix said. “Do you guys want to go after we eat tonight?”

“I’m down,” Jisung agreed. 

“Sounds good,” Minho chimed in.

The boys all looked at you for your answer, but you hesitated. Thinking about what happened the last time you drank didn’t make you eager to do it again, and you were already exhausted from traveling.

“I’ll pass.”

“What? Why?” Jisung asked, sticking out his bottom lip in a pout.

You leaned into him, resting your head on his shoulder with a sigh. “I’m tired, and I’d rather go somewhere Italian… since we’re in Italy.”

Felix shrugged. “Your loss.”

“We’ll have a shot in your honor, babe,” Jisung said and pressed a kiss to your temple. 

“Please don’t. Something tells me you’ll have plenty to drink without an extra shot for me.”

“You know us so well.”

After dinner, you walked back to the hotel with the Hans and said good night to Jisung’s parents before parting ways to your separate rooms. Jisung went with you to change into clothes for going out while you changed into pajamas. 

“Are you sure you don’t want to go?”

You nodded from where you were on the bed and yawned. Jisung didn’t push any further, instead resolving to finish getting ready in silence. He paired his black jeans with a pair of converse and a dark green button-up over a black t-shirt. 

He turned to you for approval.

“Fake girlfriend approved?”

“Fake girlfriend approved,” you repeated and gave him a thumbs up. 

“Okay, well I’m headed out,” he announced. 

“Have fun! Don’t kiss any cute girls without me!” 

It was something you always said to each other, but it sounded strange since it was supposed to be coming from his girlfriend. Jisung just chuckled and blew you a kiss as he let himself out. 

You heard him greet his brothers outside and then listened to their footsteps fade into the distance before pulling up an incognito window on your phone. It had been weeks since you’d been able to get off and it was killing you. The amount of stress this trip had given you only made it worse. You were wound so tight that you were sure you’d snap soon if you didn’t get some relief. 

And you thought that maybe if you rubbed one out it might help you forget about… the confusing feelings you had for your best friend’s brother. 

Seeing as you had the night to yourself, you figured you might as well take advantage of it. You copied a link from your notes app and pasted the url into the address bar. You didn’t feel like digging through your luggage to find your earbuds so you set the volume low enough for only you to hear. 

The video started playing and you let your hand wander from your side up to your neck, brushing your hand lightly across your collarbone. You traced the curve of your breasts with a finger before squeezing one of them gently, feeling your nipple harden under your palm. You only had one hand to use since the other was holding your phone, but you made do. 

The video was one of your favorites, one you found yourself watching at least once a week. It was one of the few videos of hetero couples you had favorited, and it started with the guy going down on the girl before fucking her…

You admired the muscles on the man’s back, watching intently as they flexed whenever he moved his head. The woman moaned, struggling to keep her legs open while he brought her closer and closer to orgasm. 

You let your hand travel down further until it was sitting at the waistband of your pajama shorts. You knew you had a while before Jisung would be back, but you were too impatient to wait. You propped your phone up on a pillow next to you to free your other hand as you started to play with your clit. 

You pictured someone’s head in between your thighs, imagining them moaning against your pussy as they tasted you for the first time. 

The man was taking his pants off now and lining himself up with his partner’s pussy. You tried to follow along, putting yourself in the moment with the couple. You gathered your own wetness on two of your fingers to lubricate them and slid them inside yourself, sighing in relief. Your entire body tensed as it accommodated to the stretch and you gave yourself a few beats before moving your fingers. 

When you finally did, you felt yourself relax and sped up your pace so that it matched the actors on screen.

The angle the video was shot at hid the man’s face and you found yourself wondering what he looked like. If you squinted you could almost picture Minho- no. You tried to shake the thought from your mind, but it was already there. 

Closing your eyes didn’t help either. You just imagined Minho’s fingers sliding in and out of you instead of your own, imagined the veins on his arms becoming more pronounced as he tightened his grip on your thigh. 

“Fuck,” you cursed, knowing you should stop. 

You were too close to stop now, and the pleasure was clouding your judgment. Suddenly the man brought his hand up to the girl’s throat and began to choke her, sending her hurtling into her own orgasm. You moaned accidentally, thinking about Minho’s hand around your throat. You curled your fingers up so that you were hitting your g-spot and whimpered pathetically.

This was wrong. This was bad. Not only were you fantasizing about your best friend’s brother, but you were confusing yourself even further. 

You tried to fight it, at least that’s what you told yourself, but all you could hear were Minho’s moans echoing through the speaker. You pictured the way he’d look on top of you. His eyes would be so dark and he’d be smirking like the cocky asshole he was, chain hanging down in your face- just inviting you to take it into your mouth.

It didn’t take long before you felt your orgasm begin to build. The video was still playing in the background, the man still chasing his own high and bringing his partner to her second orgasm, but you’d tuned it out by now. You came around your fingers thinking about Minho’s hips snapping into yours. 

You were fucked.

lmk what you think i always appreciate feedback!!

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[sysmedsaresexist]

As someone who remembers how vile syscourse was just a few years ago, when I heard this blog experienced character devrlopment, I was shocked at first. When I found some posts explaining it, I was even more intrigued.

If anyone is open to it, I wouldn't mind a link to any explanation of how you fell into sysmedicalism and how you started unlearning it. I'm genuinely proud of you for that development, because changing your entire outlook on a topic is difficult, especially when you have people who support that old view but not the new one behind you. This isn't meant to be condescending, in case it is read that way.

Syscourse has only gotten more vile, honestly.

This ask kind of comes at an interesting time. Last night, I made a post about the TPA and my extreme hatred for them (that'll never change), but I linked a post from my second Twitter account, which brought me WAY back to my first active move in syscourse.

First off, hi, it's not condescending. I found it's a lot easier to talk about than I thought it would be. It doesn't hurt as much as I thought to say, "I was wrong and being hard-headed." I was expecting ego death, but instead, everyone has been so kind.

I was asked what made me switch sides, but as for my humble beginning...

I spent a good couple years just lurking and watching. I was out in therapy and quietly taking all these questions to my therapist. "Are endos real? Is DID really trauma based? Could I be endo? Is that what you become when you heal from DID?"

Suffice to say, not the healthiest questions. There was a lot of misinformation out there. Through talking to my therapist, I believed I was in the right, and I debated for a long time getting involved to talk about some of the more prominent myths about DID.

But then.

Then.

I met Bethany.

Well, I didn't meet her. She blocked me immediately. She was a social worker, and a pro endo, DID system, but I really didn't like the way she talked down to CDD systems.

She was actually huge on Twitter, she had her own website and everything for sex positive therapy, she was doing interviews, she made wild claims about what kind of work she had done in the field, sob stories about clients that didn't make it. She had just started something called the Dissociative Society of Canada.

She was BIG.

And she was a liar.

I'm actually genuinely curious if anyone remembers this, it was seriously a huge, DESTRUCTIVE event to hit BOTH communities.

The Dissociative Society of Canada was real. She started it. But she was not a social worker. Her stories weren't real.

Having done all the same schooling myself, in the same province, with the same rules, I knew she was lying, and I called her out for it.

The pro endo AND CDD community attacked me HARD. I was told I was harassing and stalking, I remember reading the post that called for people to mass report me and I remember the emails starting to flood in from Twitter from countries that required the email be sent for reports. The only posts I had made on Twitter had been about Bethany, but people were talking about who I must be as a person and why I was so angry and jaded and terrible.

Eventually, Bethany admitted it. She never publicly apologized. She made her board of directors do it for her in a letter about shutting down the society (they hadn't known either). I was able to get her listed as an unlicensed therapist to avoid (she's still on there). The Dissociative Society of Canada was shut down after only a year.

And I felt terrible. I hated myself. The posts that came out afterwards about how much people had loved Bethany and how their trust had been destroyed, people that had done therapy with her and were permanently damaged by the lie. She had given a lot of people hope, but it was all a lie.

That was my fault. If I hadn't said anything, I don't think she would have been caught. She was still in school to get her education, she wanted to become licensed, she just wasn't yet.

But it was illegal for her to be providing therapy and telling everyone she was a social worker. She used this title to shut down anyone who disagreed with her, even when she was clearly wrong.

It was a clusterfuck. I came out of it DESPISING endogenic systems for the harassment and misinformation, and the lies about ME. I hated the desire to ignore her unlicensed, illegal actions simply because she had been a prominent voice for the pro endo community (seriously, people wished I hadn't done it, that she had never been called out and had continued her work).

This was my first real interaction with the pro endo community. A lying POS and a bunch of endos lying about me.

I started JAS around that time, and we all know what happened from there. My first post was about the myth of the 10% non-traumagenic in the DSM (it's a misquote).

I don't want to say I wanted to replace Bethany-- I wanted to show how someone who wasn't licensed could still advocate without lies, I wanted to provide that same level of educated discussion, I actually heavily considered putting together a licensed team to start another dissociative society. I debated getting licensed to do it myself.

Unfortunately, life doesn't always work out that way.

I did get her Twitter url out of it when she deleted, though. My trophy.

Ending on a sad note, I suppose.

I was distrusting of the endo community, I was angry. I didn't trust anyone for a long time after this. Who would just go online and lie like that?

It took a really long time to get over it and let go of that anger and hurt.

Remember, don't trust anyone or anything on the internet. Fact check everyone and everything, even if you think you already know the answer, or think you know who someone is.

If she hadn't been such an actual bitch to people, I wouldn't have noticed. Seriously. This was the tweet that caught her, no therapist should talk like this to anyone. The concerns raised in the first image mirrored my own exactly, and I would not have appreciated being spoken to that way. I thought, if she IS licensed, she should be reprimanded. But I couldn't find her license, and thus began the downfall of Bethany Killen.

TL;dr if you're lying on the internet, be nice to people :)

While I didn't always live up to my own standards of civility (I can admit that), I TRIED to speak to endogenic systems as respectfully as possible, and my only goal was to NOT be like Bethany. Sometimes I failed, but at least I never claimed to be licensed.

The point is that I'm trying to be better every day. Finally admitting that I was pro endo made it a lot easier to be nice. I wasn't trying to hold up this charade anymore.

And finally, I want to remind everyone that it's not just "the other side" that can do damage or spread misinformation. Our own community can do damage if we don't call each other out, too.

The most damaging thing I've ever seen in syscourse came from another CDD system.

I think I've rambled enough, thank you!

[dumplingprincessextraordinaire]

I’m going to give myself some time sit on it and think more, maybe look for more perspectives and info on it but as of now, my gut reaction to pro paraphilia stuff is kinda “ummm idk about that” at the moment. To be clear y’all aren’t on my DNI list, I’m just iffy/nervous about it. Because my comfort and acceptance currently goes toward FICTIONAL taboos (hence my proship stance) but people who have attractions toward irl beings that can’t consent …. Yeah even if you’re anti contact I don’t know if it’s a good idea to advertise that you’re still supportive of them as people. But idk. Maybe “paraphilia” isn’t as scary as it sounds.

But recently a pro-para blog followed me (I won’t be saying names because they didn’t harm me and also backed off when I asked them to not interact with me) and told me straight up they were a map (I don’t even like that word, would rather just call them pedos to be honest) but were anti contact. Like okay, it’s great you’re not hurting anyone but to be honest I still don’t want pedos or people who are attracted to real animals anywhere near me.

Yes, to be fair, not EVERYONE uses darkship or kinks as a coping mechanism but let’s be honest, a lot of us still do. I use darkship and lolicon stuff to vent and explore what I’ve been through as a teen. So seeing people in the proship community saying “well I still support people with harmful paraphilias, just not contact” STILL makes me very uncomfortable?? Scared?

And on a greater level even just beyond me, I also think it’s going to make it ten times harder to advocate for proshipping. I mean it’s already kinda hard to explain that pro/darkshipping is ultimately harmless and non-toxic, but yall advertising being “pro” for anything to do with irl attractions (harmful attractions, to be clear) MAKES IT EVEN HARDER AND FRUSTRATING WHEN CONVERSING WITH NORMIES/NONPROSHIPPERS.

Lastly, when it comes to people struggling with irl attractions that are dangerous or sexual disorders in that category, I don’t necessarily know if it’s our place? Like yeah we can debate and advocate all day long for expressing fiction freely and anti-censorship but most of us still aren’t mental health professionals and idk if we should be putting out a stance on shit like this. I mean. Irl people with dangerous, harmful attractions to irl potential victims.

I hope this post didn’t come across as mean or attacking anyone because I don’t want it to. I think I have a few propara moots following me (I’m only just now kinda learning what it is) so if y’all can educate me, the comments and reblogs are y’all’s place to do it. Maybe this whole propara thing isn’t even as big in the proship community as it looks or maybe “pro para” isn’t even as scary as I’m seeing it currently. Im open to opinions and education what not. But ofc personal attacks and stuff will be blocked!

Edit:to be clear—I still don’t want irl pedos or zoophiles to interact. But propara blogs in general may, as I’m not saying that automatically makes someone pedo/zoo/whatever else is harmful.

[antianakin]

Hey! 👋 Just wanted to send in a message and say thanks for reblogging my post to leave some of your thoughts on it. I hope you didn’t mind the tag. 😅 Half the time Tumblr breaks links to other blogs for me, so I just thought tagging would be easier. I also apologize if it felt like I was calling you out or something about giving points on pro jedi to anti jedi fans?? 😭 It’s probably just my anxiety, but I still just wanted to clarify in case my words bothered you. I was more just kinda speaking in general to pro jedi fans as a whole.

I definitely agree with your thoughts looking back on it now that the anon might’ve been genuine in the sense they weren’t trolling, but it was clear they just wanted to be told they were right. They didn’t genuinely want to debate. I kinda sometimes look for the best in people even if it’s not there. 🤦‍♀️😂 But yeah… it IS frustrating to have asks open related to answering SW meta posts or fic questions and then just see a kinda benevolently condescending anti/critical jedi ask in there like that.

Getting all the thoughts out helped me cool off from my rage at that YouTube commenter that called Leia a “brat” though for not forgiving Anakin, at least. It’s the little things in life, I suppose. 😌💖😂

I hope you’re doing good! 👍 I do genuinely love hearing your SW takes, whether on Anakin or Jedi or clone stuff in general. I feel like you’re a lot more objective than others can be about Anakin, if that makes sense?? And also just about the clones in general too and your thoughts they might not want to be seen as mandalorians (at least I think I recall you saying that before in a post?), because they’re clones and brothers in arms first and foremost. I personally like the idea of them having mandoa just because I feel like it’s something that would be taught and passed down from the genetic tree of Jango. But I DEFINITELY appreciate the idea that Jango might’ve not been as deified by clones as people believe. 😭 I’m not saying he was the devil, but at the end of the day he plucked out a kid from the thousands he left behind from being his clones, and called it a day.

I wasn't bothered at all, my firmer more negative opinions aren't going to be for everyone! I'm consistently surprised at how many people DO seem to appreciate anything I have to say on the topic, negative or otherwise. I've said this before, but I made this blog as a space for me to express more negative things and I figured that would be kind-of a turn off for people. I'm glad that it's ended up apparently being at least somewhat enjoyable to other people.

It's incredibly funny to hear myself described as "objective" about Anakin given, well, everything. I'm NOT objective about him, obviously, I'm decidedly biased against him. I HAVE tried to approach his character as objectively as I can sometimes if people have asked me to, but I don't like him much and that does color the way I interact with Star Wars and stories he's involved in. People who love Anakin, even if they're extremely pro Jedi at the same time, will often interpret things VERY differently from how I would specifically because they're more inclined to be sympathetic to him and believe the best of him in a way I just can't most of the time.

For the clones, while I've definitely expressed the opinion that they wouldn't want to be considered Mandos before, that's one of my more bitter opinions, one I tend to feel when I'm more annoyed at the whole Mandoclone concept. If I were trying to be more objective about it, I feel less like they wouldn't WANT to be considered Mandos and simply that they AREN'T Mandos. There's never any real indication that the clones feel a connection to that culture aside from like... two little designs on the helmets that could just as easily be explained away in other ways. They never actually speak Mando'a, they never talk about Jango at all, and they don't seem to show a desire to interact with the Mandos when they have the opportunity (Cody and Rex are both around during the Duchess on Mandalore arc, Rex goes to Mandalore with Ahsoka, and Rex/Gregor/Wolffe meet Sabine). Aside from the two tiniest little designs, there's never a single indication that these people ever felt any connection to being Mandalorian at all.

And I personally just find it really boring to just make the clones MandoLite and base their entire culture around one that already exists rather than recognizing that they've got a radically different kind of upbringing that would have caused some VERY different values and traditions from Mandos. They've got their own canonical slang, they've traveling all the time and could be picking up any number of different traditions from the people on different planets (language, food, maybe art and songs and dances and games). I think Mandoclone headcanons often treat the clones as a monolith instead of recognizing that they're individual people in the process of creating their own extremely unique culture. I think the clones deserve more fun and interesting headcanons than just turning them into MandoLite.

[cinemastyles-backup]

Summary: FWB's Harry and y/n find out that they're more than just a temporary fix to each other

Warnings: SMUT18+, strong language, unprotected sex, oral (m rec), hair pulling, general filth

My original CinemaStyles-blog has been terminated, so I created a new one.

I tossed and turned for what felt like hours.

I let out a sigh, fighting the urges to call him. I haven't spoke to Harry in weeks because I was getting feelings and feelings for Harry were a no go.

"Fuck it." I roll over and slap my hand on my phone, dragging it over me. I go into my messages and scroll down to Harry's name. I chew on my lip, really debating if I want to do this.

I do.

I sink low and send him the typical, you up? text that most guys send at this time.

He might not even be up. I start to breathe a little faster. Anxiety mixed with excitement.

I get a text back and sure enough, he's up.

Harry: Well well well, if it ain't little miss lonely.

I scoff and roll my eyes,

Me: What's that supposed to mean?

Harry: Come over and I'll tell you.

I bite my lip and smirk,

Me: What's in it for me?

Harry: Come over and I'll show you.

I sigh, "Doesn't this man know what sexting is?" I sit up and I swear my thumbs move on their own,

Me: On my way.

I smile and try to keep my excitement down to a minimum. "Oh shit. Shit shit." I get up and quickly make myself look decent. I throw on a sweatshirt and leggings and slip on my shoes.

I quietly sneak past my sisters room and walk down the steps.

I grab my purse and grab my keys off the hook.

"Where are you going?" My sister asks popping around the corner, scaring the absolute shit out of me.

"Ah! Julie I almost killed you." I yell, "What the fuck are you doing?" She crosses her arms and smirks, "I can ask you the same thing. You going to see Harry?"

I look at her quickly, "What? N-no. I'm going to-" I sigh, "Yes."

She shakes her head, "He's more than a temporary fix for you and you both just see to realize that." She says as she walks away.

"What?" I say turning towards her. She stops on the steps and leans down over the banister, "Don't keep him waiting."

I scoff and look at my phone,

Harry: Come on, love. I can't wait to see you.

Me: I'm coming, I'm coming. Chill out.

I walk out and get into my car. I put on my music and grip the steering wheel tight before I start driving.

He's more than a temporary fix for you and you both just see to realize that.

I think about what Julie said, over and over again. Her voice playing in my head the whole time I drive to Harry's.

I sit in my car and I look up at his apartment, butterflies start to fill my stomach.

Me: I'm here. I'll be up.

I get out and lock my car, slowly walking up the steps to his door. I knock a few times before the door opens.

There stands Harry. Hot and shirtless. Tattoos on full display.

I bite my lip as my eyes scan over his half naked body, his voice snapping me out of my stare.

"Are you coming in, or are you just going to stand there and gawk over me."

I look up at him and shake my head with a smirk, "Shut up." I walk in past him and push his shoulder. He shuts the door and presses his back against it with his arms crossed over his chest.

"What?" I ask while setting my bag on the couch.

"To what do I owe the pleasure of having you being here at this hour?" He chuckles. I shrug, "I guess I just .. needed a temporary fix."

"Yeah?" He walks over to me, "I told you can call me when you're lonely." He brushes hair off my shoulder and tucks it behind my ear, "When you can't sleep.." he slides his hands down to my hips and pulls me into him, "I'll always be your temporary fix."

I look from his eyes up to his lips and smirk before he leans down and kisses me which quickly turns into a very hot make out.

"I've missed you." He mumbles lowly.

I nod in agreement, slipping my hoodie off over my head and tossing it to the ground. I connect my lips with his and he unhooks my bra, sliding it down over my arms and dropping it.

He backs me up into his bedroom, not breaking the kiss.

My knees bend as I hit the bed and I fall back, pulling him with me. He holds his weight up as he hovers over me.

He places kisses down my chest and stomach and takes off my pants and panties together in one swift motion.

I raise my eyebrows.

He shrugs and crawls back onto me, "What?" He kisses me, "I said I've missed you." I giggle and wrap my arms around his neck.

"Didn't you miss me?" He teases, "Didn't you miss how my cock feels inside that tight little pussy you have? Hmm." He kisses my neck and sucks on a spot.

I whimper, "Y-yes." I run my fingers through his hair and arch my back as I can feel him sinking his teeth into my skin, "Fuck."

He kisses up to my ear, "Ive also missed those lips of yours."

"Which ones?" I joke and he looks up at me, "Both of them." He pushes his sweats down immediately freeing his cock.

My eyes flick down and I lick my lips, "Let me suck you off for a little." I look back up to him and he nods eagerly.

I nod for him to lay on the bed and I get up on my knees to finish taking off his sweats. I get myself into position, laying on my belly with my feet kicking in the air behind me.

I lean in and lick a long stripe up the shaft of his cock and he gasps, "Oh." I lick the tip, tasting his salty precum, "Mm, someone's excited." I tease playfully.

He tilts his head and nods once with his teeth holding onto his bottom lip.

I wrap my hand around him and work my way onto his cock. I swirl my tongue and bob my head, each bob earning a moan that gets louder and louder.

"Shit." He gasps laying a hand on the back of my head. He gently pushes my head further down and I let him. I gag slightly as he hits the back of my throat and he jerks his hips, "Fuck, baby."

I hold it there for a few moments as he thrusts his hips slowly.

"O-okay. Come here." He runs a hand up and down my back. I sit up and wipe my mouth before straddling him. Without a word, I slowly sink down into him.

My lips part slowly as I close my eyes and tilt my head back, enjoying the feeling of finally having him inside of me after not having him for weeks.

"Still feel so good." He moans. He grips my hips and starts to slowly rock them. I gasp and look at him, "That feels so good." He smirks and watches me. He leans his head forward so I can wrap and arm around his neck.

I start to bounce, moaning into his neck, "Harry." He wraps and arm around my waist and holds me, moaning along with me.

I wrap my arms tighter around him as I can feel my orgasm approaching, "M'gonna cum." I whimper, "Fuck, Harry."

He turns his head and kisses my neck, biting the same sensitive spot he already marked me with, "Cum on my cock."

I rock my hips, getting him to hit exactly where I need him to hit and I gasp loudly followed by the scream of his name, "Harry, fuck fuck." I groan and arch my back so my chest is pressed more into his.

He thrusts his hips up to meet mine, fucking me through my leg shaking orgasm.

He rolls us over so he's on top now, "Feel good?"

I bite my lip and smile, "Always."

He slides a hand up to my neck and gently starts to squeeze the sides. He starts to thrust again but slow and hard. He watches my face as my eyes roll back and I smile.

"You dirty girl. You like being choked don't you?" 

I keep smiling and nod.

He thrusts all the way in and pushes against me, "You're so fucking hot." He slowly moves his hips causing me to whimper.

He removes his hand from my throat and leans down to kiss me, "Where do you want me to cum?" I open my mouth and stick my tongue out.

He nods with a smirk, "As you wish." He starts to thrusts again at a faster pace. He groans and grips my hips tight, tilting his head back.

He pulls out and I quickly get up, wrapping my lips around the head and pumping. He tangles his fingers into my hair and moans as he pumps his hot cum into my throat.

"Fuck, baby, Mm, fuck." He moans as I suck him clean. I lean and fall back onto the bed. He lays down on his stomach next to me, "that.." he blows air and smiles.

I nod, "one hundred percent." I look up at the ceiling and bite my lip. I didn't realize Harry was staring at me until a few minutes later.

"What's going on in that beautiful brain of yours?" He props himself up onto one of his elbows, "Whatcha thinkin about?"

I look over at him and shake my head, "Nothing, it's nothing."

He lays a hand on mine, "It's obviously not just nothing, what's going on?"

I sigh and laugh slightly, "My.. uh, my sister said something to me when she caught me sneaking out and I can't stop thinking about it."

"Uh oh. What did the all mighty Julie have to say?" He chuckles.

I think for a moment, "That.. you're not just a temporary fix for me." I slowly look over at him and he has a smile plastered on his lips.

"What?" I ask slightly embarrassed, "Harry don't ma-"

He brings a hand up to turn my head towards him, "That Talia I told you about.." he pauses and I nod, "Yeah? What about her?"

"She isn't real."

"Huh?" I ask confused.

He shakes his head, "I mean, she is, but she has a girlfriend and I just told you that to see if you'd get jealous because I wanted to see if you caught feelings like I did."

"Feelings we're hooked lined and sunk a while ago buddy."

"Buddy? Did you just friendzone me?" He laughs and leans in, "I don't want to be just a temporary fix for you anymore." He kisses my forehead.

"Good because I don't want you to be either." I place my lips on his and we fall asleep cuddling with our naked bodies as close to one another as they can be.

——

Likes and reblogs are majorly appreciated and don’t forget to hit follow! ♥

[lskisms]

pairing leon kennedy / fem!reader genre smut warnings feminine terms for reader, piv, smut with a little bit of plot, nothing crazy

note minors do not interact. if i see any ageless blogs or minors interacting with this, i will block you.

you knew what you were getting into when you started seeing leon; it had been one of the first things he'd talked to you about. he didn't disclose a lot of details about his job, just that it required him to be on the move a lot, often for long stretches of time, and it would be difficult to reach him when he was away. you'd told him that you could manage, the two of you would make it work because that's what relationships are: compromise.

and you had made it work for a while, a year and a half in fact. when leon was home, it was great and when he was away, you worried, but your man was strong. despite how busy he was while he was gone, he still made efforts to call when he could, asking you about your day and what you'd been occupying yourself with in his absence; you'd made a habit of picking up random hobbies to surprise him like baking, crochet, photography.

but things have started to wane; leon has been gone more often, you've been left alone in your apartment more often than not over the last few months, and you love him but how much longer can you realistically compromise before it becomes too much?

when you'd voiced this, it had resulted in a pretty explosive argument and leon had left just like that. he left without saying goodbye, without a kiss, without an apology. he'd given you nothing and for the next two weeks, you worried that this was over, that he'd come back and tell you that he thought it was better that you break up and that you needed to pack your things and move out.

that's not what he's done though. when he walked in the door an hour ago, you'd been pacing in your shared bedroom, debating for the fourteenth night in a row if you should just pack your shit and be gone before he got back; you'd been almost certain that would be his decision.

but he'd stepped into the bedroom, dropped his rucksack, and captured your face in his hands, kissing you without even a hello. there was no prelude, no words exchanged; there was just his lips on yours and his rough hands on your cheeks and suddenly the mattress under your back.

now, you're reclined against the pillows with leon situated between them. his hands capture yours, pressing them into the pillowtop, your fingers intertwined, as he keeps an even, slow pace. two weeks and you forgot just how good his cock fills you, hits all the right places because he knows you better than you know yourself.

"i'm sorry," he says against your throat, breath hot at your jugular. "spent that whole mission beating myself up about what i said to you. i worried i'd come back and you'd be gone."

"i'd never leave," you stutter out, arching your back at a particularly well aimed thrust. "i thought about it, but only because i worried you'd come back and tell me to get out."

he pulls his head from your neck and looks down at you, eyebrows knit together. even though he's fucking you so good, his eyes are still sad and your heart bleeds.

"i'd never tell you to leave," he whispers, breaking off the last word when you squeeze around him and he hisses in pleasure. "never. i'll prove it to you, pretty girl."

and prove it he does.

© lskisms 2023. do not translate, copy, or repost my work on any site.

[lyculuscaelus]

Greetings, traveler. You’ve stumbled across an antique land, it seems.

This appears to be a side blog of @tahiriveilasolo, and here you shall find posts and reblogs of Greek mythology related stuff—just a simple demand of τάξις. So if there’s anything about Greek mythology in general or EPIC the Musical itself you’d like to rant with me, just come to this blog! I hope you find this little corner of mine interesting :D

Also, favorite writer of all time: Homer

Ah, a little bird told me it’s a good time to introduce myself. So…

Χαῖρε! I’m the epic psycho you’re looking for. (Pun heavily intended) Call me Lyculus or Τέλος (Telos), either is fine! I go by he/they pronouns, 19, aroace. I love physics (cuz why not), music (I play the guitar and violin), and reading (hell yeah), and ofc writing.

I mostly write fanfics or fanpoems for the Epic Cycle. I have quite a few works in progress and some of them are shared on Tumblr already (I’ll make a masterlist when I’m bored and I’ll upload the rest when I’m not lazy).

I happen to have learned some Ancient Greek and a little Latin, so sometimes I’ll go digging. Hope what I find intrigue you! Discussion is always welcome, as long as it doesn’t come to heated debates concerning certain controversial topics!

The gate of asks is always open, so feel free to venture into the land of the ask box! I pose no threat, I assure you :3 (unless you consider angst a threat, that is, cuz I would do that for sure) (tho actually I’m bored as hell so plz scream at me in the ask box you menaces /lh /nf)

Medal Collection:

Survivor of the Circe Saga Stream Crash 2024

Survivor of the Wisdom Saga Stream Strike 2024

Catalogue of Hyperfixations:

Greek mythology (especially obsessed with the Epic Cycle, and the generation before them)

EPIC: the Musical (definitely obsessed)

Hadestown

Aristos: the Musical

Paris: the Musical

Ulysses Dies at Dawn

Star Wars, especially the Expanded Universe (obsessed. I have my main blog for that for a reason), and Andor

Star Trek (love TOS, TNG, DS9, VOY equally; ENT…maybe)

Catalogue of Tags:

Lyculī crustula: my rambles

Lyculī sermōnēs: my long-winded analyses

Lyculī scriptiōnēs: my writings (boy, there’re things in Discord I should really upload here…)

Lyculī commenta: analyses/writings I did in some reblogs

Lyculī quaesītī: my diggings and little discoveries in ancient literature works

Lyculī quaestiōnēs: my replies to asks (so far only appreciation asks)

īrōnīae: some Greek mythology/EPIC memes I made

Also feel free to tag me if you find some posts you think that might interest me (especially Telestratus art/writing I’m begging pleading craving plz bromance ftw)

Hmm…yeah, I think that’s about all. Welcome to the land of my blog then, traveler! Xenia to everyone who visits this realm!

[takamimami]

Perfectly Misaligned

Chapter 1 - The Phantom

Pairing: Eustass "Captain" Kidd x OC (Morrigan, The Phantom)

This is my first time actually writing out a fic for an OC. I'm excited to get this down, and I look forward to sharing it with anyone interested enough to read it. This story is not canon-compliant, at best it will be canon-adjacent (it that is even a thing lol) :3

Chapter Tracklist:

Unwanted - Avril Lavigne

Missing - Evanescence

Gasoline - Halsey

CW: minor depictions of violence, slave trading/human trafficking, nothing major for this chapter as we are setting the scene, references to Morrigan's childhood trauma --- word count: 3.1k

NSFW; Explicit Language/Themes - MINORS/AGELESS BLOGS DNI

"You’ll never be safe in this world until you’re six feet under.”

The harrowing words echoed through my mind as I trudged forward towards the moss-covered building in the distance, the sea-prism stone cuffs digging into my wrists. The pudgy man walking in front of me tugs on the chain connected to them, nearly causing me to stumble forward as he hisses back at me.

“Pick up the pace, girl!”

The others behind me grumble in response, but I keep my head down and hold in my protest, silently praying to make it through the rest of this ordeal without being recognized. I’d heard tales of this place and knew it would be swarming with world nobles in a matter of hours, those of whom would surely have seen my bounty poster. Lucky for me the photo on it was dated, having been from when I was a young teen, but the scar on my brow would give me away to anyone who gets a good look at me.

A man is sweeping the front steps as we approach, and he immediately stops what he is doing and bows to the man leading my group who responds with a swift elbow to the poor man’s gut.

“Dammit, I told you ta' have this cleaned up by the time I got back!”

The man winces and sputters out an apology and grabs the broom that had clattered to the floor, resuming his previous task as we are herded through the doors of the building.

The chains on our cuffs and the scrapping of our feet against the concrete are the only things that can be heard as we make our way into the building. I keep my gaze low, not wanting to draw unnecessary attention to myself, and we continue to the back of the building behind the auction stage where a slender man is waiting. His long grey hair flows down his back as he stands, smoothing out his floor-length coat before walking over to us, his hands behind his back as he ominously crosses the room. The two men exchange mumbled words as they look over their haul, debating bidding prices and logistics, things I couldn’t care to pay attention to as I scan the room and look for any possible way out.

“What about this one?”

The man’s voice rings right in my ear as he grabs my chin harshly, pulling my gaze towards him as he looks me up and down. I snarl at him, to which he lets out an amused chuckle, his lifeless eyes a harsh contrast to the smile on his face. I furrow my brows momentarily, worrying I’ll see a hint of recognition on his face, but his expression remains unchanged as the man behind him speaks up.

“We picked her up on our way back from the South Blue. She’s the bastard daughter of the king of Briss.”

The slender man keeps a firm grasp on my chin as I try to pull away from him, the pads of his fingers digging into my cheeks. “Another bastard child, it's a pity your mother didn’t get rid of you when she had the chance.”

I wanted to spit in his face, to tackle him and cut out his tongue for uttering an ill word about my mother as if my father was some saint. But the sea-prism cuffs keeping my hands behind my back were draining not only my devil fruit powers, but my physical strength as well, and considering the number of bruises and welts I had already received for the resistance I showed on the ship here I don’t know if the effort would even be worth it.

So instead I offer a dissatisfied grunt and pull my chin out of his hand harder, this time succeeding in releasing myself from his grip.

The man just stands up straight and offers a wicked grin, giving me one last look over before turning back to his subordinate.

“Dress her up in something nice, we should be able to get a decent price off her.”

The man tugs on the chains to pull some of the slaves to their feet, “Yes, Disco,” he nods as he turns and leads us down a long dark hallway, stopping us all in front of a giant holding cell and fastening a collar around each of our necks as we enter.

Some people fought the guards as they were ushered in, but I knew my best bet would be to bide my time until I could get this sea prism off of me and use my powers to free myself. So I remained pliant, much to the guards’ surprise after the tantrum I had thrown on the ship.

Before long all of us took a seat inside the cell, each seat identified with a number - likely indicating the order we would be sold off.

I lean back and rest my head on the cool concrete wall, closing my eyes as I try to calm the rage boiling within me as I hear that man’s voice, Disco, replay in my head.

“It’s a pity your mother didn’t get rid of you when she had the chance.”

~

There were too many of them to fight off, too many burly men holding me down as they dragged my mother away. The tears burned my eyes as I let out a muffled scream, biting down on the hand that covered my mouth, only for it to be pulled away and balled up into a fist. The hand collides with my face before I can process what is happening and the last thing I can see is a bright green emerald in my face before my vision blurs, a wave of red pouring over my quickly swelling eye and I cry out in pain for my mother.

There’s blood… so much blood. It’s dripping from my brow and mixing with my tears as I try to wipe it away in a panic, but it keeps flowing as my head begins to spin and the shouting voices around me start to distort. The hands that were once holding me down are now frantically carrying me down the hall, and my back hits a cool surface as my ears begin to ring and my consciousness slips.

I awake in a dimly lit room, my ears still ringing and the entire right side of my face bandaged up. I try to sit up but my arms are chained to the bed, so I do my best to survey my surroundings and take in the room I’m in. I note there is a small table and chair next to the bed I’m on, with a half-finished cup of something sitting on it with a copy of some news reporting lying next to it.

Someone had been in here, watching me.

I hear muffled voices and footsteps approaching on the wooden floor outside my room, and as they approach I hear what sounds like the ground groaning below me. Was I…. on a ship?

My question is answered as commotion above me draws my attention, and I can faintly hear someone barking orders that sound vaguely like “raise the sails”, and “fire at will”.

My heart begins to race as the next accompanying sounds are those of cannons blaring in the distance, the sounds of the cannon balls splashing into the water around us sending a shiver down my spine as the room flings open.

A man I don’t recognize looks me over frantically as he tugs at my chains, “C’mon, girl, the admiral told me to get you on the lifeboat, stat.”

My body feels like it is on fire as he hoists me over his shoulder, and I groan due to the sun sending a splitting headache to my temples as we ascend to the deck.

There is chaos everywhere, so many men… Marines… shouting. I try to get my bearings as I lift my head and scan my environment, but a sudden shift of the boat sends the man carrying me tumbling into the railing, my body collapsing on the ground behind him as he struggles to keep himself from falling overboard.

As he stumbles back to his feet I take the opportunity to slip away from him, ducking behind some barrels nearby and dashing in the direction of the lifeboats on the ship’s port. As I reach the lifeboats I realize I hadn’t thought of how I was to get into one and row away with my hands behind my back, so I dip behind the bench nearby and struggle with the cuffs on my wrists, trying desperately to free myself. I take a deep breath and tug my right hand aggressively, feeling my thumb dislocate and biting down on my lower lip. The searing pain had my eyes stinging as tears threatened to spill from them, and I continued to wiggle my hand through the cuff, feeling the metal scrape along my knuckle as I am finally able to get a hand free.

Relying on the adrenaline to carry me through the pain, I turn the crank to lower one of the lifeboats into the water. Just as it hits the water I hear a few men shout in my direction, and I don’t even think twice before hauling myself over the ledge and into the tiny wooden boat.

An explosion rocks the deck I had just leaped from, and I scramble to grab the paddles and start rowing myself away from the ship, seeing a shoreline in the distance as I try to steady my breathing. The wind whirls around my head as cannonballs splash in the water around me, the waves making it hard to gain any traction in my efforts.

Just as I look over my shoulder to see if anyone noticed my escape, a cannonball hits the front of my boat and a large wave sends me toppling forward into the water, my lungs immediately filling with water as I sink, unable to struggle against the water as it pulls me deeper and deeper.

~

“Wake up, bitch!”

A tug of my wrists has me stumbling to my feet, pulling me from my dream and thrusting me back into my harsh reality. As I start to recall my current situation, I am guided to a back room and undressed, the guard looking my body over a few too many times before he ushers me into a washroom with a bucket and a sink.

“Get cleaned up, no one’s gonna want shit to do with you if you look like you just rolled around in the dirt.”

The door shuts and I grab the bucket, filling it with freezing cold water and pouring it over my body reluctantly. After I finish rinsing off I run my fingers through my black hair, grateful I got a chance to dye it back to my natural color before being hauled away on that ship.

The door flings open as I shut off the water, and the man returns with a towel, drying me off despite my protest to do it myself, then he leads me back out into the room and pulls a dress over my head. Much to my horror he reaches down the front of the dress and adjusts my breasts to sit higher in the bust, nearly spilling out of the dress as he holds back a nasty grin. I let a low growl rumble through my chest and he just laughs in response, swatting me on the ass as he ushers me back to my holding cell.

“Gotta make you look enticing to the clients,” he snorts, and I roll my eyes as the holding cell door shuts behind me.

As I return to my seat, I notice a new face, an old man with a sliver beard and silver hair to match, sitting menacingly in the seat labeled 18. He looks up at me and notices my stare, simply smiling and offering me a subtle nod before returning his gaze to the floor.

Just as I sit down a guard calls out for the first ticket, and everyone winces in unison as they beg and plead with the guards to reconsider. The same thing happens over and over again until finally number nine is called and I rise to my feet, doing my best to keep my head high as I walk towards the stage.

The spotlight is blinding as I peer out into the crowd, trying to make out any faces as the snobby nobles begin murmuring as I cross the stage.

“Ladies and gentlemen!” Disco calls out, stretching an arm out in my direction, “Allow me to introduce our next prize!”

I feel my lip curl as I continue to scan the room, keeping my chin down slightly to keep my hair covering the scar on my right brow. Looking over the crowd I see a few familiar faces, people who had visited my father on our island occasionally, and as my eyes reach the back of the room my lungs tighten. The man standing in the back of the room watches with an unamused look on his face, his arms crossed over his chest as if he had a million better things to be doing than standing inside this auction house.

My eyes meet his and I notice him shift his weight forward as if trying to decipher the look on my face as I let my eyes trail over him. The familiarity stabs me like a knife to the gut - his bright red hair held back by goggles, his gaudy fur jacket, and those trashy patterned pants. There was no mistaking it.

As I look to the masked man next to him my heart sinks, and I notice the blonde nudge the redhead next to him, pulling his attention from me as they look to be discussing something.

I had been so distracted I didn’t even notice the bidding had started, and just as Disco calls for the voting to close the guard who had escorted me to the stage comes barreling out from the back, interrupting Disco despite the grave look on his face.

“Sir, it’s Joker,” he says, looking down at the responder snail in his hands, “he says not to sell her, that he’ll quadruple the price of whatever the highest bid is.”

Disco’s eyes widen in surprise and confusion, but he quickly catches himself and relaxes his face, turning to the crowd to explain the situation.

A few mumbled groans come from the crowd, but I am shuffled off the stage before anyone can throw too big of a fit. Before I walk off the stage I look back at the redhead and the masked blonde standing in the back of the hall, their eyes still trailing me as I disappear into the back.

I’m brought back to Disco’s office, the guard instructing me to sit and wait for the auction to finish, and I nod without offering any resistance as he closes and locks the door.

Still able to faintly hear the commotion from the hall, I began rummaging around the office, trying to figure out who this ‘Joker’ person was, and wondering if the reason they wanted me for themselves was that they knew of my true identity. I shuffled through the papers on Disco’s desk, a pile of wanted posters stacked atop it and I quickly began flipping through them.

Sure enough, at the bottom of the pile, I see my face - my previously blonde hair and the ravenous look on my face making my skin crawl as I examine the page.

~

I could feel my heartbeat in my throat as I rounded the corner to my father's office, so relieved to finally be putting this entire mess behind me. I had so many questions I needed to ask him, so many things had happened since I was beaten and kidnapped, and I had to know that my father was going to get to the bottom of this.

My blood ran cold at the scene that awaited me inside that office.

My father was sitting at his desk, his fingers laced together as the Marines on either side of him instantly rushed me, grabbing at both of my arms.

"Father," I gasp, my eyes burning as I search his for any explanation for this sudden aggression.

And that is when I noticed it. The green emerald ring on his middle finger. The same ring I saw moments before my brow was split and I was taken away from my mother.

"Where is she?!'

He averts his gaze from me and motions to one of the men still stationed by his desk, "She's yours. See to it that she disappears… for good this time."

And it was at that moment I realized I should have stayed on the Victoria Punk.

~

WANTED: ALIVE

MORRIGAN, THE PHANTOM

75,000,000 BERRIES

I gawked at the poster, not having actually seen it in person before. I’d only heard word of it from the various Marines on the ship who had discussed it not realizing that the person on the poster was just under their nose.

A sudden explosion from the other end of the building rattles the walls, sending my head whipping in the direction of the commotion. The doorknob of the handle jiggles and to my surprise the old man from the holding cell strolls in casually, seemingly unfazed by the ensuing chaos down the hall.

He smiles at me before reaching for the safe on the wall, breaking through it with ease as he clears out the money from inside and tucks it into his jacket. It’s then that I recognize his face, and the furrow of my brows must give me away as he sees me still staring at him.

“Do you want me to remove yours?” He asks gently, motioning towards the collar still around my neck. I nod hesitantly as he moves his hands towards my neck, pulling the collar apart effortlessly before throwing it out into the hall, where it detonates a short moment later.

“Silvers Rayleigh,” I say breathlessly, though he's already making his way out of the room.

He turns to look over his shoulder at me, pressing his glasses to the bridge of his nose as he cracks a smile.

“Morrigan, The Phantom,” he says nonchalantly, “A pleasure.”

With that, he continues walking out towards the hall, and I take the opportunity to disappear into the chaos as people begin to funnel out of the auction house.

Next Chapter

I hope the flashbacks aren't too confusing - I promise everything will make sense eventually :3 I should have the next chapter ready to post for the weekend ahhhhh I'm having so much fun writing this.

if you liked this, I would love it if you liked and reblogged to spread the love <3 ✨come say hai :3✨

[zalrb]

I tried searching your blog,

How did you feel about the Hyde cheating on Jackie storyline, given all of that cheating nonsense she dealt with with Kelso?

Yay, a Hyde and Jackie question! (fuck Danny Masterson, he can choke).

Um, obviously as a shipper I don't like the storyline and I don't excuse Hyde but I get it and I think it works for the character, as in it makes sense that Hyde did that because it's a defensive reaction, like

1. Hyde's parents abandoned him

and when they were around, they were neglectful at best

2. This is the first real relationship Hyde has and it requires a level of vulnerability from him that he isn't used to giving -- because of 1 --

so this is all new/scary to him, it took him how long to even refer to Jackie as his girlfriend but in his own way, he’s consistently putting himself out there for her,

including potentially losing his friendship with Kelso

3. By this point, there had already been the Annette incident

and Kelso had been needling at Hyde and had been trying to get in between them for weeks

and during the Annette incident, he revealed an insecurity he had about their relationship (even if not presented in that way)

and that sort of comes back up just before he hooks up with the nurse

So, with all of these things for context, I understand Hyde seeing them on the couch and not confronting them and just bailing

because that's what he's used to happening to him (see #1) and he’d already done something that doesn’t feel comfortable to him, which is express how he feels

Plus, in his mind, he'd already given Jackie a second chance by letting the Annette thing go  and he felt like his trust was violated again, and later on in the season, he tells Kelso that he’d never felt this way about a girl before

so seeing the two of them together when he thinks the two of them had cheated deeply hurt him

and I think it’s also important to note that in the Annette incident he talks about how Jackie “makes you stupid“ because he feels stupid for falling for her

and this time, he says that he feels like an idiot, which I take to mean that, he gets back together with Jackie after she told him she loved him and he feels like an idiot for believing that she did

he went against his natural defence mechanisms because he loves her and wants to be with her,

and it led to what he thought was another betrayal and he reacted defensively.

I know that some people and maybe myself have said that he cheated as a way of breaking up, I think that’s a bit debatable particularly because he doesn’t say ‘no’ when she asks if he still has a girlfriend

and he couldn’t be sure that somebody would see him and the next day/episode when Kelso talks to him, Hyde at first acts like nothing is wrong, like he didn’t see Kelso and Jackie on the couch, like he didn’t sleep with someone else, he doesn’t try to find Jackie either, he just does his regular thing

and he himself refers to it as cheating, which implies that in his mind he’s still with Jackie

What I will say is that he doesn’t deny it when Kelso directly brings it up, and he also wasn’t trying to hide what he was doing when he did it, like Kitty was only a few feet away, Kelso works in the hotel, Jackie visits him there frequently so I think it’s more accurate to say that for him it was a they-see-if-they-see-because-I’m-doing-nothing-wrong situation, that he felt completely justified in doing what he did, kind of like tit for tat until he realizes he wasn’t justified at all

As we see in season 6 when he has a date with another girl after Jackie chooses him, Hyde isn’t interested in two-timing Jackie or being dishonest with her

Kelso, on the other hand, consistently lied to Jackie to keep cheating with hook-ups like Pam Macey or two-timing her with Laurie. In season 4, he says that his cheating is a direct result of her verbal abuse, which I thought was a story point that happened way too late in their relationship and that goes absolutely nowhere but even if I did take that as a story point that contextualizes his behaviour, that doesn’t change the fact that Kelso has a pattern of cheating on Jackie and lying to her

and using her for her money

and stringing her along

and that just wasn’t what was happening with Hyde and Jackie so while I would of course have preferred that he hadn’t cheated on her at all, it’s one of the very few times I’ve found cheating as an obstacle for a ship to work where there’s no character assassination for the cheater.