#(eg a present - but this is not 'I have a present for you you don't get to know what it is just yet!')

[creatingblackcharacters]

Hi Ice! I would love some advice on a story I'm writing and it has to do with the nuances of intersectionality between class and race and i bring a simple example that has to so with the dynamic between my Black mc and white mc.

If this is beyond the complexity of the asks you're willing to answer, of course feel free to ignore! Also i apologise in advance for any potential nuances I'm missing on the way America is structured(and my syntax..), i'm eastern European.

The setting of the story is supposed to be late 19th century america Inspired, not our universe and it's practically historical fantasy. My original intention (and current mostly) was to make it a universe where social equality is a thing as much as possible with an inclusive cast of ocs.

Just that already has its issues i feel, and most of my concerns are on the erasure of the struggles that the BIPOC communities have faced, particularly during those times.

In your opinion, would it help if i found an explanation on how everyone happened to be allowed to live an equal lifestyle? Eg 'x politician because x reason decided to make x law that decides everyone has the same rights on paper' And is that enough to touch upon the fact that hey... Not everything has been or is peachy?

Regarding Class; The thing is, the story itself ended up having quite strong themes about classism, capitalism, poverty etc. The issue that suddenly arises...is that in real life this issue intersects with so many other social issues including racism obviously.

So far i have a white character that is working class and a Black character who is a bit better off, say lower middle class and in their friendship, the latter sometimes tends to may be a little ignorant of his friend's specific experiences. It goes without saying that Black characters can be of any status and in any place in their lives, especially in a historical fantasy setting, However, i wonder if it comes off as tone-deaf presenting a Black character as less aware of the concept of poverty in practice (given that in real life, minorities are quite knowledgeable on how issues like poverty can affect their community, even in theory, even if some individuals haven't faced it directly.)

Thank you for the awesome blog and inputs!

Hm. I've been sitting on this one for a bit because I don't have like... An easy answer. I say that because unraveling race and how it figures into literally everything in the construction of the US is like... The fallout of the creation of the concept known as race is a massive domino effect 😅 Plus, putting "don't be racist" on paper versus people actually DOING that is not that easy either.

Like on the one hand, it's your story. If you say everyone in your story respected each other enough to not do everything required to create race and racism, then like... Yeah, then that's that. Me personally, I feel like that's a cop out fantasy for white folk, but again that's me. And then when we get to your part about the Black person being less aware of poverty and being schooled by your white character is like... It doesn't exist in universe sure but... Given that we already erased what actually happened... Yeah it makes me uncomfortable.

Don't get me wrong, the distance between the Black bourgeoisie and the Black working class and poor is DEFINITELY a conversation worth having, for example, and a poor white person could have something to say... but... I think given this question, this might not be something you should tackle right now. Like, you said "lower middle class" versing working class... Do you mean the working poor? Bc lower middle class is one trip and fall from poverty 😅

I have a question; why can't this just be a place not based in America? It can be influenced by it, but it doesn't HAVE to be 19th century America, Retconned. I feel like I'd be more comfortable with that idea, plus you wouldn't have to unintentionally whitewash history to do so.

[rotationalsymmetry]

Every time I've tried to interpret some random stranger's confrontational discourse in the best possible light I've regretted it, so this is probably a mistake. But, trying again.

This might not be about "too sick to go outside." It might be about "too depressed to notice benefit from things that normally make people feel better" or something along those lines.

life actually gets better when you leave the house consistently btw like im serious

[cesium-sheep]

I think the whole "oh we cannot show anyone singing or dancing or call it a musical we must simply call it a ~bold new twist~" irritates me for several different reasons, even if it seems to be working out financially. 1 it's deceptive. I just generally hate deception. and bullshit gotcha twists. 2 musicals are not bold and new and you sound like a fool. 3 I fucking like musicals but I don't really like regular movies anymore and if there is no way to know something is a musical I'm not gonna watch it? which, 1 and 3 in combination especially kinda makes it feel like they don't actually want me to watch it? which like they're finally making their money back so they don't care, but it doesn't exactly feel great for me. like being a musical is some weird dirty secret.

[malereadermaniac]

Forced Mate - Alpha Zenin Naoya x Omega Male reader

Naoya had the privilege to chose his Omega - your relationship with the heir after an arranged mating and marriage has many ups and downs WARNING: Not watched JJK, probably OOC!! Top!Alpha!Naoya x Bottom!Omega!Reader word count: 2.2k Nsfw / MDNI ~ amab m!reader / FDNI

As expected by anyone who knew him, Naoya of course presented as an Alpha; and as the golden child of the clan, his father set out to find him the perfect mate as soon as possible. Naturally, this proved easier said than done. Naoya had been an egotistical narcissist since he was barely walking, he demanded that his opinions and choices be taken into account on the hunt for his mate, and hell did he have many opinions...

'A woman who doesn't know how to walk three paces behind her husband should be stabbed in the back'

Zenin Naoya was a known sexist. Once he had presented as an Alpha, many thoughts ran through Naoya's head; 'this was expected' - 'of course I'm an Alpha' - 'been stronger than these betas since i was a kid'. But also, after many self-indulgent and boastful thoughts, Naoya also thought 'Thank fuck I don't have to knock up some bitch'. The youngest heir of the Zenin clan was a fucking misogynist, getting a man pregnant seemed like a much sweeter deal than having to deal with a woman as his mate.

So, whilst his father was busy organising match-making meetings and courting hours for his son, Naoya was busy rejecting every single Omega brought to him; because of course, they were all female. The Zenin clan were still traditionalists, if Naoya was to mate with an Omega, that Omega was to at least be a woman. But as you'd expect, Naoya couldn't give less of a fuck about what the clan wanted. He only cared about himself. So once his father eventually gave in and began matchmaking the blonde with male Omegas, Naoya had made his choice. You. And what an honor you would find out this was (or rather quite the opposite). You had caught the Alpha's eye almost immediately after walking into the room. You had aristocratic blood, had undergone etiquette and submission training, you were healthy, and you had so many more 'appealing' qualities for an Omega; but Naoya cared for none of that. The brooding Alpha made most of his decisions on instinct and feeling alone, and it helped that you were quite the head-turner in the looks department. So the decision was made rather quickly. You were to be mated and married to the Zenin clan heir.

You thought you knew what you were in for. Being born into a powerful clan but presenting as an Omega meant one thing; you were a bartering piece, something to marry off in order to establish political relationships. Ever since you presented as an Omega, you had undergone many types of training to become the ideal mate, and you thought that you knew what to expect when it came to how an Alpha would treat you; badly. But boy did you underestimate just how bad it could get. After all of the contractual and political work was out of the way for your arranged marriage, you were immediately moved into the Zenin residence. You had your own room; small but not as crummy as those of the servants. Whilst Naoya viewed you as above all women, he still viewed you as less than any man due to your secondary gender, meaning that he wouldn't share his chambers with you, he wouldn't acknowledge you romantically; you may as well be his live-in prostitute... The night of your moving-in, the two of you were expected to mate; as in, you were expected to submit to Naoya and allow the Alpha to mark you. It was a hard night for you, the hardest by far. Naoya was an impatient man, a selfish man who cared only for his own pleasure, and even worse for you, a sadist by all means. You were in immense amounts of pain that night, the Alpha forcing his way inside of you and drilling into you the whole night; you screams and whines of pain egging him on, turning him on. Your body was covered in bite marks and hickeys, your nape permenantly marked by Naoya; your now mate forever, your Alpha.

It did get better though. With time, Naoya began to tolerate you. The most of your interactions did of course still take place in his chambers; you would visit your Alpha's bedroom almost every single night at his request, leaving in the early hours of the morning back to your chambers. Naoya acknowledged you now though: a chuckled scoff when passing you in the gardens, allowing you at his dinner table, calling for you when he was bored. Of course, Naoya never spoke your name, he often had to be reminded it by his advisors, he would instead call you 'Omega'; but in a weird was, that was enough for you. You also couldn't complain about the sex! He may be a maniac, but Naoya sure does know his way around your body. The Alpha knows how to rut into you in ways that make you writhe and scream in pleasure, he knows how much pain you can take to where you aren't in agony, but you do cry out his name and shed a few tears; he knows you, and that's a lot coming from such a self-absorbed man. Naoya loves it when workers walk in on the two of you fucking; he acknowledges whoever walked in, but he doesn't stop whatever it is he's doing to you. Whether it be his fingers curling into your slicked hole, his tongue forcing your tight walls apart, his hand forcing your head up and down his length, or his dick visibly thrusting in and out of you, Naoya never lets an unexpected audience prevent his pleasure.

The Alpha would never admit it, too proud and narcissistic, but there are things he likes about you. Hell, Naoya fucking loves certain things about you. The blonde goes absolutely feral for your scent, demanding that you scent his room bi-weekly to "comfort his inner Alpha". Naoya will hold you closer while he fucks you, just to get more of your intoxicating, sweet scent. He'll even use your scent as an excuse to have you sleep in his bed; claiming that a mate's scent helps an Alpha sleep. That's another thing he's come to like - sharing his space with you, more specifically his bed. Naoya has become unable to sleep in an empty bed. He'd never admit to missing your weight beside him, to missing the scent of your hair as you curl into his muscular body; but Naoya knew deep down that he loved having you around. But again, the Alpha refused to vocalise his liking of you; you just had to assume from his actions that your Alpha didn't seem to mind you as much as he used to.

Naoya's ruts are another key part of your relationship with the Alpha. Knowing how he is when in his right mind, you can imagine how Naoya behaves like during a rut. The man is a fucking menace. Your body usually goes limp from suffering multiple orgasms without breaks in between. Hickeys and deep bites always end up littering your body. Naoya's body glistens with a sheen of sweat as his muscles flex and tense after what must be ten orgasms in one night; the endurance and stamina of Alphas is a medical phenomenon. Naoya loves to be as close as physically possible to you when in rut, pushing his body down onto yours as he drills his thick, long cock in and out of your warm, tight hole. You switch positions many, many times in one night during one of Naoya's ruts; a favourite of his seemingly being speedbump, but with his muscular arm around your neck, your cheeks squished by his bulging bicep as the Alpha pounds you into the bed with a ridiculous amount of force. Usually, Naoya is talkative when messing around with you, loving the sounds you make and your squirms at his dirty talk, but a rut fully takes it out of him; all of the man's energy going to fucking, with none to spare for any words other than 'Omega' and 'mine'. That's another thing about his ruts, Naoya becomes extraordinarily possessive during them! During pre-rut, Naoya will have anyone who dares speak to you locked away for a week! The blonde has to always have some form of physical contact with you during his pre-ruts and becomes much less of a cunt; showing a more endearing side of himself when he demands to cuddle you and be around you constantly. During Naoya's full ruts, he never allows you to leave his side. The man could be dead asleep and if you get up to clean up or grab some water, he wakes up within seconds and grips your wrist as tight as he can, looking up into your eyes with his own, dark, brooding ones.

Your heats are a completely different story. Naoya is his usual self times ten! Such a fucking sadistic tease. He refuses to touch you where you want him to, going as slow as possible, and making your big, pretty eyes pink up with tears. You end up a begging, pleading, crying mess before his dick gets anywhere near you ass! Your Alpha's fingers do most of the work for your first couple of orgasms, his mouth moving from your nape, to your scent gland for a hit of your hypnotic, sweet smell. Until you're screaming out incoherent pleas and 'Alpha' s, Naoya doesn't allow you the pleasure of fucking you to heaven and back; but damn, when you finally cave in and beg like a pathetic bitch (his own words), your world shatters. During your average heat, Naoya will make sure that you're writhing in pleasure beneath him as he roughs you up; the Alpha's eyes locked onto your immensely pleasured form, watching and admiring how physically and mentally overwhelmed you seem with pleasure, pleasure that only Naoya can provide for you. Kisses are a lot more common when you're in heat. Naoya knows that you are too dazed from the hormones running rampant throughout your body and brain to remember almost anything from your heat; so he lets some affection show here and there. His kisses are tender. So soft and even to an extent loving. The blonde fucking loves to interrupt your moans and desperate panting with a kiss, turning the moment of primal desire into a romantic one; the juxtaposition kinda turns him on, and it most definitely helps you with your heat! Naoya's kisses go right to your brain (dick), your inner Omega screaming in pleasure at the sign of affection; subconciously understanding the kiss as 'my Alpha loves me', 'my Alpha cares'. And even though he would never admit it, Naoya did care about you.

Many months go by after your first night with your Alpha. A weird, but comfortable relationship blooming between you and Naoya. But this was an arranged marriage, the key word being marriage. So of course, Naoya's father pushed the two of you to get married as soon as possible. And the demands kept coming from the Zenin clan... House work. Resigning from your career. Submission. Children.

The Zenin clan needed an Heir; one that would take over even after Naoya. And you were expected to provide that. One one hand, as an Omega, you naturally did crave having children in your life; caring for pups came naturally to you. But holy shit was it insulting. To be told to your face that you were good for nothing other than producing off-spring; it really knocked you down a few pegs. So much so that Naoya even noticed; and he didn't like it. He liked that you usually had some fight in you; normally, you would clap back at him when he was being a cunt, you would knock him down a few pegs. But after his father basically called you a breeding cow, you stopped being... interesting.

It got to the point that you were barely even talking to Naoya; simply presenting to him whenever he wanted to fuck. That pissed him off. Usually you'd at least call him a name or insult him! What snapped you out of this little lull was Naoya himself; told you he secretly cared. A harsh slap to your face and your cheeks squished between the Alpha's masculine, strong hand, and you were sorted! Well it was a little more than that... Naoya gave you a good talk too, tellin' you that you were more than just an incubator for his heirs, you were his after all; and verbatim "Nothing that's mine is so boring and surface-level". So you sucked it up. All the opinions for the rest of the clan didn't matter anymore; you simply didn't care. Sure, you would produce an heir, you would produce many. But what a kick in the balls to all of the traditionalist cunts in the Zenin clan it would be, if you raised your pups to be the exact opposite of what they wanted. And when you promised that to Naoya, his grin couldn't of stretched any wider.

I feel like this was really shit. Sorry. But i did really wanna get more omegaverse out cause I love it so so much! And Naoya is fucking hot.

[airplanelanding]

r/relationship_advice

u/smashedcucumbers

My (26M) Roommate (28M) kissed me and I don't know what to do now.

So, for context, my roommate (28M) and I (26M) are both straight men. For privacy, I will call him RM, for roommate. Onto the background.

So, RM is an author — or, attempts to be one. He has a lot of potential but squanders it all on writing shitty porn for money. I have read, and still do read, his work. The skill is present, but he doesn't lean into it.

I am very rich. I don't understand what it's like to not have money or worry where my next meal will come from, and after a lot of introspection and discussion with him, I acknowledge this privilege. Monetarily, and familially, I am very lucky. This isn't to brag, or to say I have no struggles of my own (believe me, I do), but purely to add context.

I offered to pay his bills, etc., so he could write what he wanted but he refused most help because he didn't want to be "just some sugar baby" (???) — in the end, he only moved into my apartment and let me cover the rent.

We have been living together for 2.5 years now.

With the background out of the way, I'll get into why I actually made this post, now.

Last night, RM and I were having another argument over his writing. Since moving in, he has let me begun editing & beta reading his work. I have a formal degree in literature and editing, but don't do it for work. Needless to say, I know what I'm doing.

We argue a lot over his writing. Something about last night's fight was different, though. It was more tense than usual. Ever since the power went out last week — during which we had to share my bed for warmth — there has been a strange energy between us, and I guess it all bubbled over during this fight.

I don't even really remember the details. It was about a scene in which the tension between the protag of his novel and his latest love interest snapped and they fell into a passionate night. I expressed how unnatural it felt in context with the rest of the chapter, and how sudden, and that there needed to be more proper build-up. RM disagreed. I then pointed out the kissing itself and how unrealistic it was. We went back and forth like this a bit, egging each other on and arguing.

At one point, he said something along the lines of, "like you could do better," and I snapped back that maybe I could. He laughed and said he'd like to see my try and, without thinking — in the heat of the moment — said fine, go ahead. The silence was...deafening I tried to backpedal immediately when I realized what I said — again we are both straight men. I don't even know why my head went there, let alone why I said it.

After that, it gets fuzzy. All I remember is one second I was stumbling over my words trying to backpedal, the next we were on the couch and I was in his lap. I came back to my senses when he tried to take my shirt off and, as ashamed as I am to admit it, I've been hiding at my older brother's house since.

I don't want to go back home while my head is still such a mess, but I think my brother & his husband are starting to get sick of my intrusion.

Reddit, what do I do? He hasn't tried to contact me all day, or at all since I fled last night. I've never questioned my sexuality before, but now I don't know what to think. I'm straight, but...I didn't hate it?

I'm really at a loss.

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🔰 AutoModerator MOD • 7 hrs • Welcome to r/relationshi...

u/streetcat 6hrs

Ever since the power went out last week — during which we had to share my bed for warmth — there has been a strange energy between us

bro...you cannot be serious.

••• ⤶ ⬆ 1.2k ⇩

u/helpful-idiot 6hrs 🎂

Plain and simple, you need to talk to him. This isn't something that will just go away if you hide long enough. This needs real communication.

••• ⤶ ⬆ 3.2k ⇩

u/endoftheline 6 hrs

we are both straight men

Are you sure about that? Genuinely. Has he ever told you he's straight? Brought home girls? Anything concrete?

he hasn't tried to contact me

It's likely he's just as panicked as you are, OP. You seem like close friends and, sexuality aside, this complicates that friendship.

what do I do?

1. Breathe.

2. Thank your brother and BIL for their hospitality.

3. Go home and talk to your friend.

Regardless of the outcome, you both deserve an honest conversation with all your cards on the table. Especially if he's having an identity crisis of his own. Have some faith in your friendship and work through this together.

edit: spelling

••• ⤶ ⬆ 6.7k ⇩

u/smashedcucumbers OP • 5hrs

Thank you.

••• ⤶ ⬆ 346 ⇩

u/smashedcucumbers OP • 4hrs

I'm going to talk to him. I might update properly later. Thank you all for the responses.

••• ⤶ ⬆ 3.9k ⇩

[transmutationisms]

Do you know much about how antipsych applies to autism?

autism is one of very few psych diagnoses that has a semi organised tradition of actual self advocacy and a communal tendency to reject and criticise the proffered treatments (ABA, various other forms of abuse). autistic advocates have also played huge roles in developing and articulating the neurodivergency paradigm—arguing that autism is not a 'disease' in need of a cure, but simply a way that some people are, as a result of value-neutral variation that all human minds display.

i don't actually love the neurodivergency paradigm because i don't think the 'neurotypical' exists or is a useful benchmark against which to compare oneself; also, many proponents of this framework are explicitly hostile to deconstructing their very monolithic understanding of each psych diagnosis, and they tend to continue viewing these diagnoses as 'real' biological conditions that simply need to be destigmatised. i don't think this destigmatisation is truly possible as long as we still believe that autism or anything else truly is a distinct, identifiable 'brain difference', even if we're construing it as a neutral variation instead of a pathology. these categories are made up; what unites two people with autism is not necessarily anything to do with their brains, it's a function of (and disgnosed by) external behaviours and the failure to perform social normality. every single person varies biologically (again, there is no 'neurotypical') and varies as much within psychiatrically delineated categories as much as across them.

but anyway i digress: autism is probably the psych diagnosis with the single most organised critique of psychiatry right now. there are of course self advocacy groups for other diagnoses but i haven't really seen any break through with their critique the way that like ASAN have for example. historically i think one thing that has made autism friendly ground for this is that it's the rare psych dx that isn't legal gatekeeping for a drug (compare autistic self advocacy to adhd 'self' 'advocacy' for example) and another huge factor is that autism in its present form is historically differentiated from achizophrenia by being the less stigmatised, more benign 'version' with schizophrenia explicitly reserved for more vulnerable and marginalised populations (eg in the US, black political radicals). so it's not terribly surprising that some of those diagnosed autistic then push this logic even further and say, hey, there's nothing actually Wrong with us though—and it's especially not surprising that the institutional and public response to this has been, while hardly universally positive, generally much more amenable than to people with 'scarier' and racialised diagnoses who say the same thing about themselves. non-radicality of mainstream autistic advocacy aside, even.

[vivelegalite]

dear dead boy detective (especially paynland) enjoyers: have you yet heard of the biggest gift bestowed upon the fandom so far, aka jayden's charles playlist? the one he mentioned in interviews? well, he dropped it on twitter at 19th of may. and man, do i have stuff to say about it.

there's a lot of 80's bangers, for sure, great to get into the mood and character, but some of the choices...

i'm gonna focus on a few of my favourites, songs that made me go insane when i saw them. honorable mentions: - category 1 (so devoted the lines blur): ain't no mountain high enough by marvin gaye and tammi terrell, there is a light that never goes out by the smiths, inkpot gods by the amazing devil - category 2 (family life): family line and summer child by conan gray, seventeen going under by sam fender, matilda by harry styles, father by the front bottoms - category 3 (being queer in the 80s): smalltown boy by bronski beat, boys don't cry by the cure - category 4 (there's no heterosexual explanation for this one): good luck, babe! by chappel roan, yellow by coldplay, fight or flight by conan gray (is this about monty? the cat king? i need answers!), the prophecy by taylor swift, arms tonite by mother mother, sweet by cigarettes after sex, head over heels by tears for fears

this list is by no means complete or comprehensive!

and now, the songs that made me go the craziest: (they're predominantly in charles' pov as it's his playlist)

found heaven by conan gray

the only reason this song made it into the list and not the honorable mentions instead of smalltown boy is that it makes almost the same point, just so much more explicitly. i don't think i have to say much about it, it's a story of a young person griping with their queerness, being forced to leave home, a common theme of the playlist. "you're in love, you found heaven" when he chose edwin over his own afterlife, heavily implied to be heaven, and built his heaven with him on the mortal plane? ouch! (and we see this same notion repeated in another bop from the playlist, heaven is a place on earth by belinda carlisle).

2. like real people do by hozier

"i miss kissing" charles rowland, 202X romantic meaning aside, the verses show a sort of a common understanding the boys have around the manner of their deaths and their lives before it. we already know from the show they don't really talk about it, with edwin not knowing about the severity of the abuse charles suffered. it feels like one of them saying "let the past be past, we're together now, yeah?". but also, jayden: can there ever be a platonic explanation for this? ghosts can't touch, can't feel, so they wish they could just kiss like "real" (alive?) people do?

3. flaws by bastille

not the most romantic song, but i absolutely love how well it fits their dynamic. despite his edwardian brand of repression, edwin truly is the one that's more open about his feelings (recognising of course that in this case, the bar is so low it's in hell. haha, get it). edwin has worn his flaws upon his sleeve, and charles has held them buried - eg. bottling up all of his anger and resentment towards his family and his own death. the song presents a very sweet outlook, in which their flaws are brought up to the surface (for example, charles' outburst against the night nurse in episode 4), but they learn to accept them as they are, an extension of themselves.

4. a pearl by mitski

you know it's gonna get intense if there's a mitski song in the mix.

the song is about a person who finds love in their partner, someone who treats them way better than they've ever been treated - and yet they cannot bring themselves to reciprocate the affection ("it's not that i don't want you, sorry i can't take your touch") despite reciprocating the feelings themselves because of the trauma. charles is known to bottle things up ("you're growing tired of me and all the things i don't talk about"). the person in the song recognises the love the other person holds for them ("you love me so hard and i still can't sleep"), which reminds me of charles' response to edwin's confession. not a "no", but a "maybe, as time passes".

5. fair by the amazing devil

this one made me genuinely gasp when i first delved into the lyrics. it's simply so sweet, such a genuine and domestic portrayal of love. at first i thought it was way too open about being a love song (normal text instead of the subtext i'd be used to) for jayden to choose it with edwin in mind, but... there's no one else it can really be about. it's far too domestic, too "established" to refer to crystal. refers to a relationship that's laster for a longer while.

the narrator in the first verse is a person deeply in love with the other person, someone who loves to make his lover laugh and simply drinks in their presence. the "he" in the song i believe is charles, while the "she" refers to edwin. edwin promises to fight off anyone - or any feelings pulling charles down (we can see this in the first episode: "you ever think... what if death did catch us? she'd force us to go to the afterlife and split up" "i will make sure this never happens."). charles feels left behind by the world (seeing as he clings to crystal at first, refering to her as "someone their age who's still alive") and believes edwin to be so much stronger than he's ever been. i'm not going to break down the song verse by verse, but if you read it yourself while subbing out "he" for charles and "she" for edwin you'll see just how sweet (and... strangely very in character?) the song is.

6. work song by hozier

if the previous song made me gasp when i saw the lyrics, this one made me go "NO WAY" out loud when i saw the title. the first one verse is just pure toothrotting sweetness, but the chorus is what i want to draw attention to:

when my time comes around lay me gently in the cold, dark earth no grave can hold my body down i'll crawl home to her

HELLO? charles, who keeps escaping death and afterlife to be able to stay with edwin? charles, as he literally takes his last breath with edwin right there, choosing to be by his side rather than move on? charles, who keeps choosing him despite night nurse's promises and threats? charles, who literally crawled through hell for him?

verse 2, to me, can be interpreted as referring to when charles died. edwin found him at his worst, and he "woke" up with his presence comforting him. he was shivering due to hypothermia and his injuries. edwin didn't ask him about what happened or pushed him, he simply listened. the lines "i didn't care much how long i lived, but I swear, i thought i dreamed her" are pretty self explanatory.

in verse 3 we still see the same attitude of "damn the afterlife, at least we have each other" as charles portrays througout the series. they're free, and heaven and hell are simply words to him.

7. orpheus by vincent lima

i literally have no words for this one. it fits too well. if you want commentary for this one, just... i don't know, rewatch the staircase scene.

8. francesca by hozier

(cracks knuckles) this is the big one. the album francesca is from, unreal unearth, is based on dante alighieri's divine comedy, a fourteenth century poem about a man venturing into hell, purgatory and eventually heaven. the eponymous francesca is one francesca di rimini, a woman who was politically married off to a man older than her, called giovanni malatesta. francesca didn't love him, and eventually fell deep in love with giovanni's younger brother, paolo. the two carried on with the affair for years, before being murdered by giovanni upon his finding out. francesca and paolo are mentioned in canto v of the first book, inferno, as two souls damned in the second circle of hell, lust. their punishment is to be permanently locked in a hurricane, swept away by the winds the moment they manage to get close enough to touch one another.

as opposed to their portrayal in the poem, the song is from the perspective of paolo, explaining that no matter the punishment, he wouldn't change anything about his life because he got to know, and love, francesca.

the first verse brings to mind the scenes in hell, especially on the staircase ("do you think I'd give up? that this might've shook the love from me? or that I was on the brink? how could you think, darlin', i'd scare so easily?" as an echo of charles' "sorry. no version of this where i didn't come get you"). "my life was a storm since i was born, how could i fear any hurricane?" could relate to charles' tumultuous family life, an assurance that nothing he has to deal with while by edwin's side will faze him given the things he's lived through. no, despite everything he's suffered through, charles wouldn't do anything differently - because his (admittedly shitty) life led him to edwin ("i'd tell them, put me back in"). we already know charles would choose him over heaven, willingly sacrificing his own afterlife to stay with a boy he's known for hours, someone kind enough to keep him company as he drew his final breath. all of it - his father's abuse, his schoolmates' bigotry, the pain of his own death, as well as everything he's gone through since - he'd do it all again, for edwin.

"for all that was said of where we'd end up at the end of it" could be taken as an allusion to the fate the boys would meet at "at the end of it", when they're finally caught by death and separated, or as more of a general "if you sin, you will go to hell when you die" (up to you to decide what the sin itself would be - an interpretation that would work with other songs on the playlist is that one such sin would be same sex attraction). then their hearts ceased, they never knew "peace", nor did they want to find it in death. their deaths were too soon, them being ripped away from life, but even though it would break his heart: charles would ask to do it all again.

the outro, i think, beautifully pulls it all together: heaven is not fit to house a love like theirs.

to wrap it all up:

jayden, what were you cooking in there? what do you know??

[proxycrit]

I love your au!!! I love how the hylian duo look like gremlins, I LOVE the expressions and sass constantly and the changes to the lore, the worldbuilding and also the emotions (OUCH). I love their relationship with purah and each other and the new champions. I love the depth you gave Yona and her relationship with Sidon and Mipha. I love how link feels comfortable talking to sidon in addition to sign, I don't know if he does that with anyone else but Zelda unless its absolutely necessary (eg: just launched out a cannon and is paragliding down, so hands are busy) (side note: i love how much of an adrenalin junky/gremlin he is!!)

I do got a few questions! Will the pair get the sheikah slate again (so say link has the slate and zelda the pad), and can both slates do the warping and item storage (food, ingredients, armor, weapons, etc) (if so: no WONDER link was so upset! His collection!)

Does link have access to the ultrahand abilities (ik you said not The ultrahand, but what about fuse or ascend or rewind etc?) Where is the mastersword??

Does Link still have the champions' abilities, or did he lose those when their spirits moved on at the end of botw?

I know these are a lot of questions but I can't stop thinking about it!! The last few updates sent me back rereading the whole au and now its just vibrating in my head and giving me no piece

This is long and rambly, just know I am very much enjoying this au! Its silly and fun and touching and cute. Thank you for working on it!!

Oo some notes (also ty for circling my au haha im glad other people fixate like i do)

(Prewarning— i did not finish totk despite putting triple hours in it, so a lot of this story is being written while playing, though i know the big broad strokes thanks to cultural osmosis and video essays. A lot of Familiar Familiar builds from my playthrough with BOTW over TOTK, so the sheikah influence is significantly stronger and I will always choose botw characterization over totk characterization as a result.)

That aside

1. Sheikah slate’s dead. Rest in pieces, link’s rare collectable korok poop. Purah’s extracting as much data as she can to put on the purah pad but you can see the dread in her eyes whenever she has to tell link resurrection is not possible.

2. No idea about the zonai arm powers yet— im thinking about ascend, but the longer i go through this story the less likely ill hand it to him just due to immersion breakage. He and zelda will be getting sheikah gadgets from purah though! Maybe ill have a scene of him wandering through the sky island shrines, but without zelda warning rauru he and sonia wouldnt have prepared anything for the hero of the future. (But i DO love ascension and fuse. Lowkey dislike the building mechanics from a concept art pov because the green glue makes me want to cry, but it’s FINE i GUESS)

2b. Master sword’s chilling in korok forest. Link put it back in this au because of Reasons (part of his and zelda’s characterization in this au is to discard their past roles and embrace the present, not as knight and princess but as hero and researcher. They both have to face the reality those roles aren’t dead, but it’s a work in progress. I may also never address it. This “one off hehe lemme draw some guys” idea quickly spiraled into a web comic series so apologies for the vagueness, because i too am watching them adventure with dread and awe and i don’t know where they’ll go with it. They literally write themselves.

3. Rip champions, their ghosts are Gone (but their influence remains. You go mipha, keep haunting the narrative girl, i love you)

I know that some of these story notes don’t quite match up to what totk states is stone cold canon, but that’s the joy of fan work! Anyways sorry for folks who i have NOT answered asks of— i have a lot of them and I’m much better at the drawing and writing part then the socialization aspect (please feel free to peak in to my zoo enclosure ever so often though. I need the enrichment)

[logansdoll]

ivy, l. howlett (2)

you try to get to know your mystery man a little better... but big brother is always watching.

CW: canon typical violence, gore, guns, mutation, profanity, innuendos, mature themes, mentions of sex, y/n is very poison ivy-esque, jean grey exists but is not present, etc.

"I think you'll be comfortable here," you assured, turning on the bedside light as you tossed a few spare blankets on the foot of Logan's bed.

"Where is your room?" he asked, innocently, his hands resting behind his back.

You raised a brow, but brushed off your slight surprise, turning on another lamp.

"Down the hall," you answered, honestly. "But I spend most of my time in the greenhouse."

He let out a soft chuckle, glancing at you out the corner of his eye as he opened the closet doors, inspecting it.

"Is that your gift? You got a green thumb?" he taunted, turning to face you.

"I'm a chlorokinetic," you corrected, unamused. "I can control plants."

"Really? What kinds of plants?" he gasped, falsely.

Instantly, the fern in the corner of the room extended and slammed the closet door shut, Logan watching with intrigue as it slowly receded back into the pot.

"I also have some communicative ability," you walked over to his bedside, sitting down on the edge and mindlessly adjusting the pillows. "It varies based on the species, but the professor is teaching me to develop it."

"I'm sure he is," he nodded, slowly stalking closer until he stood right before you, forcing you to look up at him.

God, your eyes...

The intensity of their warm brown sent a tender buzz through his chest.

"So say what that fern thinks about me."

"I'd rather not," you smirked, resting your hands on the bed as you leaned back. "He's not the nicest, and I'd hate for your feelings to be hurt."

"C'mon," he egged, his voice lowering to a deep whisper, sending shivers down your spine. "You afraid he might like me more than you?"

"I doubt it."

He raised a brow, silently asking again—and the look likely would've left you weak in the knees if you were standing.

With a playful sigh, you caved, turning to Ferdinand to hear what he had to say, letting out a quiet snicker at his colorful language before turning back to Logan.

"You look like dive-bar frequenting lumberjack, with a weird ass haircut and a shitty beard," you relayed, verbatim. "He's still going, of course, but I think you get the gist."

For the first time since you met him, Logan let out a genuine laugh, tickled by the gusto of the houseplant.

"That's—" "Ahem," a familiar voice cleared his throat, forcing you both to turn your attention to the door.

'Shit.'

"Scott," you greeted with a sigh, slowly standing up from the bed.

You didn't need telepathy to figure out he was a little more than pissed...

You'd gone against a direct order, and were caught in the act.

'Rookie mistake...'

 Turning back to the lumberjack, you glanced at him with a knowing look, giving him a soft pat on the shoulder, "Good night, Logan," you wished, stepping past him and exiting the room.

Though not without giving Scott a sharp, sideways glare.

But he paid it no mind, instead focusing his attention on the stranger in the room.

"You gonna tell me to stay away from your girl?" Logan cocked brow.

"My girl is away on business," Scott corrected, resting his arms behind his back.

"Hmm. Well, then, I guess you've got nothing to worry about, do ya, Cyclops?" Logan smirked, strolling toward the man.

"Yeah, it must just burn you up that a boy like me saved your life, huh?"

Logan's amusement died fast, along with his playful expression.

But Scott pressed right on, pleased to see he struck a nerve, and hoping to strike another.

"She is entirely out of your league," he stated, seriously. "So do yourself a favor and don't even bother."

And with that he shut the door, leaving Logan to steam on the other side.

'Don't even bother, my ass...'

Scott might've been right about you being out of his league—you were a gorgeous, intelligent woman with a sense of humor, who probably wouldn't give him the time of day in any other instance—but Logan liked a challenge.

And he'd be damned if he let some pretty boy tell him who he could and couldn't pursue.

"You went against a direct order—" "We were just talking, Scott," you rolled your eyes, watering Monique, your huge Monstera Deliciosa.

She was nestled nicely in the corner—perfect for indirect natural light—blending seamlessly with the countless array of other plants.

In fact, your room looked more akin to a forest than anything, green seeming to sprout from every nook and cranny, even the canopy of your bed covered in ivy and varying species of flowers.

"It looked a little more than that from where I was standing."

"Even if we weren't, that's none of your business," you scoffed, moving on to the palms. "You're not my keeper."

"But I am your leader," he corrected, firmly. "When I tell you something, I expect you to listen. Logan is bad news, and I'm not gonna let you get roped up in his mess."

"He's a chronic amnesiac with an attitude problem," you turned to him, incredulously, crossing your arms over your chest. "I assure you, I can handle him."

"It's not a matter of handling. I don't want him trying anything with you."

You and Scott, along with Ororo and Jean, had known each other since you were kids under the professor's tutelage, and with you as the youngest of the group—though not much younger than them—Scott assumed the role of an older brother.

And throughout your childhood, especially in your teens, he chased away any boy that seemed to take even the slightest liking to you.

A habit he held on to well into your twenties, and a habit that you appreciated just about as much as you did back then.

Which was not at all.

"Scott, with all due respect, I am a grown woman. And this beat the boys away routine you got going on is getting seriously old," you warned, seriously.

"I don't want to see you get hurt," he pressed on, not letting up, "And trust me, I know guys like Logan, and they only bring pain and heartbreak."

"That is exactly what you said about that boy from Louisiana," you pointed an accusatory finger at him. "I think his name was Rodney or Rudy or something..."

"'Cause he was exactly the same!" Scott scoffed, disbelieving of your inability to see the patterns. "I hate to break it to ya, (n/n), but you have terrible taste in men."

"Excuse me?!"

But before you could fire back with a retort, a roar suddenly echoed throughout the house, along with a scream of terror.

Instinctively, you reached out to all the plants in the house, finding its source almost instantly.

"Logan," you realized, eyes wide as you raced out of the room, Scott right behind you.

Running out into the hall, you looked both ways, freshly awakened kids sticking their heads out their rooms to see the commotion.

"Somebody help!" Logan shouted, voice laced with panic.

You didn't have time to worry about them.

Quickly, you sprinted down the hall, the two of you barging into his room, only to find Rogue standing there, touching his cheek and seemingly draining his life force.

It looked like he'd stabbed her with his claws, and she was taking his power to close the wound.

'Holy shit...'

Scott cut on the lights just as Ororo joined you, the girl finally letting Logan go, the poor man dropping to the ground like dead weight, seizing.

"It was an accident," Rogue turned to Ororo, guiltily, before running out the room.

You swiftly moved to Logan's side, dropping to your knees to help, "Scott, grab me a pillow," you ordered, leaving no room for argument.

He quickly moved to grab one, you using your powers to grow Ferdinand much larger and stronger, before wrapping his fronds around Logan's body to act as restraints.

'This should keep him front hurting himself.'

"Pillow," Scott nodded, handing it to you.

You took it gratefully, carefully lifting Logan's head and placing it down on top.

"He'll have to ride it out. But with his healing factor I'm not too worried," you assured, brushing a loose strand of hair out his face.

With that out the way, Ororo turned to the crowd of children gathered at the door, scolding.

"Off to bed. All of you. There's nothing to see here," she ushered them away, exiting the room.

Now just you and Scott, you let out a sigh, standing up and running a hand through your hair.

You could practically feel Scott's I told you so look burning through his glasses.

"Shut up."

"I told you... bad news."

[momochanners]

After a good night's sleep, I think I can better solidify my thoughts in regards to the Dragon Age trailer.

First, let's start with the positives:

- Companion diversity: This has always been part of the series' DNA that has been clearly depicted with every iteration, so those who cry foul over "Asian & Black elves", prosthethics, etc etc...I really don't get that, because values and sensibilities evolve over time. Even the series itself has course corrected when needed, eg. Player character creation influencing the family ethnicity of the Couslands in DA:O vs the Hawkes in DA2.

- Unlocked romances: Letting players choose whoever they want to romance regardless of their sexuality and race has always been a positive for me. Allowing everyone to enjoy the experience equally is great (and I'm sure the nuances of player race & gender will be addressed through dialogue and banter). Moreover, CRPGs are long and time-consuming, so to be locked out of character romances mid-way through is never going to be a good time (from personal experience and observing fandom in the past).

Now the negatives:

- Maybe it's me being on the older side of the Bioware fandom (15 years in Dragon Age, 20 years if you count older games like KotOR and Jade Empire), but I cringed very hard watching the trailer. If you followed the development of this game in the past decade, the cancelled live service element that was to be DA4 in one of its iterations was so all over the way the companions were introduced that it brought out a visceral reaction in me. The tonal whiplash from how foreboding Dreadwolf was presented in the past to the patronising happy quippy MEET OUR LITTLE GUYS YOU'RE SURE TO LOVE also did not help as a first concrete look of what to expect after all this time (also poor anachronistic choice of soundtrack when you already have Trevor Morris' compositions right there). I was so dismayed when they went with a looter-shooter-esque lighthearted vibe when they could've leaned hard on the foreboding established mood and momentum they've already got going with Dreadwolf. 

- The branding switch this late in the game that comes with it, especially one as drastic as this will always come with questions and ambivalence. I feel that mitigating uncertainty from announced changes (party number, combat mechanics, setting and environment, etc) should've have been prioritised to reassure existing and lapsed fans before appealing to new ones in such a jarring way.

-  I'm simply baffled at the marketing suit who signed off on whatever this is to be their "best foot forward" at reintroducing the final form of this game? If only there were confident with the world they've already built instead of relying on trendy gimmicks, the amount of damage control I'm seeing prior to the gameplay reveal tonight was so avoidable. Controlling the narrative from the get go is so very important especially now as opinions can easily snowball overnight into behemoth-like proportions especially from bad faith actors. You would think that lessons were learned from DA:O's "THIS IS THE NEW SHIT" and DA2's "Press a button, something AWESOME happens" debacles.

(The thing is, despite it being my least favourite DA out of the three, imho Inquisition has the best marketing campaign in the franchise despite the developmental troubles going on in the background. So it has been pulled off successfully before!)

- I think the Bioware layoffs, especially the recent extensive gutting of senior staff in September 2023, significantly depleted my goodwill as a fan. To see Varric being paraded as a mascot in the trailer, game promotion and supplementary media while having his creator unceremoniously let go after years of building the franchise we love left me so very cold. And it's a me problem, but seeing many other fans barely acknowledging that save for few hollow words before getting back into the fun frustrated me so much. I get being excited to finally get something solid after years of false starts, but with what was lost along the way...I personally don't feel right to approach this installment without cynicism.

Idk, I'm just a bundle of conflicted feelings over this series I guess? When it's so good, it's really good and stays with you as memorable gaming experiences that stays with you for life, but when it stumbles and fumbles the bag...it hurts to see.

[genderqueerdykes]

How come you use 'us' and 'we' when referring to things you've done?

Eg: our art

Are there multiple people controlling this blog?

(Srry if I seemed rude I was wondering why it seemed you were referring to multiple people in tags)

good question, not rude!

there are multiple people running this blog, but they all live in my body with me! i have Dissociative Identity Disorder, meaning that there is more that one person existing in my brain! i'm what's known as plural, or a system. :) not every plural or system has DID, but for me, my plurality was likely caused by trauma. i do believe i would've been naturally plural regardless of the trauma, but i experience very heavy dissociative episodes, black out, lose track of time, find objects in my home that i don't remember buying, am reminded of conversations that "i" was present for when i really wasn't the one there, forgetting/not knowing who i am, coming to in places i don't remember going, extremely faulty/poor memory, and other dissociative symptoms.

i have tried to force myself to ignore or try to get rid of my alters, but they never truly go away, so i just choose to accept it as part of my life. i alternate using i and we because of that! hope that makes sense! feel free to ask any more questions you may have

[munsonsreputation]

am i allowed to cry?

steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: [2.8k]

warnings: cursing, allusion to depression and anxiety, reader nearly has a mental breakdown over the stress of work/school/and life, steve comes to the rescue don't worry (honestly just wrote this because seasonal depression combined with school and work and life is real as fuck and we all need some comfort), also semi proof-read, sorry!

summary: it feels like the weight of the world is on your shoulders, something too heavy for you to bear all alone, but you do, anyway. and when you finally collapse under pressure, the last person you want to worry is your boyfriend steve, but he’s your safe space, and all he ever wants you to know is that he’s going to be there for you through smiles and tears.

The fatigue settled under your eyes and in the depths of your bones like a heavy weight pulling you down. There was an exhaustion seeping from the inside out, eating you alive until you were merely a shell of yourself. Your stomach twisted in knots unsolvable even with the help of sleep or tea—you felt beyond defeated with no way out.

It didn’t matter where you were and how ‘fine’ you thought you were. The feeling of dread became embedded into your entire existence and it was getting harder to keep up the act and blame it all on school or work. Perhaps it started there, but slowly and surely did the feeling morph into every avenue you steered towards in order to escape.

Your hangouts with friends suddenly turned into an inner panic attack of sorts, feeling the need to keep up with everyone who was doing so well whilst you were barely making it out alive.

Family dinners then turned into interrogations, where they poked and prodded probably with the best intent to figure out why you were so absent, but it all just felt like an attack coming from left and right.

No matter how hard you tried to keep up the facade of being fine and telling everyone they were making a big deal out of nothing, you knew you were moments away from falling apart. At this rate, you were a machine breaking down piece by piece, rusting and stalling until you couldn’t move anymore.

And the absolute last person you wanted to shrink away from was your boyfriend, Steve.

He was the most supportive and present person in your life you could have ever asked for. He never doubted you in anything, and most times he was the one egging you on to go after your dreams. Telling you to take risks and go for it, because you always succeeded in everything you did, and even when it wasn’t on the first try, he knew you were bound to get a hang of it.

A special trait about him that you adored so much was his trust in you. He knew what it was like for people to always question his worth, to try to make it seem like he wasn’t capable or smart enough to make his own decisions so much so that other people had to step in and save him. But to be fair, Steve Harrington never needed to be saved—he just needed the right people around to show him it was okay to make mistakes and learn from it.

And you did just that.

When Steve didn’t know what he wanted to do after graduation, you never pestered him on to go off to college, committing himself to something he wasn’t one hundred percent certain about. Instead, you encouraged him to find his calling, to scour town in order to find different hobbies that had potential job opportunities. To volunteer and possibly shadow in order to widen his options.

You were always supportive and did your best to guide instead of control—and because of that; he was able to find a job that made him happy, surprisingly enough.

And likewise, while Steve never was the biggest fan of structured school, he guided you through your college path. Providing all the moral and emotional support he could offer you, and at times even going as far as to reading a textbook chapter alongside you to help you understand concepts that were all too confusing.

He never pushed too hard, and never made it seem like he didn’t care. There was a perfect balance between your understanding and his—a sort of tune that always was in perfect harmony…until it wasn’t.

You had been assuring Steve that while school and work were surely kicking your butt, you had it all under control, but that was far from the truth. Date nights were seemingly pushed back…not that he minded since he understood you needed to study and rest—but things were beginning to feel more off.

You avoided having him stay the night at your place or even just stopping by to drop you off some food. When you did spend time together, you were physically there, but not mentally. You listened intently to what he had to say, but when it was your turn, you shared little about what was going on with you, and diverted the questions back to him.

A lot of the time, you just seemed out of it. Too far away in your mind for him to reach you, and while he knew everyone had their off days and even off weeks, yours was becoming imminently permanent, and you were beginning to realize it, too.

You sat hunched over at your desk, eyes welling with tears as you stared down at your notes, then back to your textbook, then back to your notes once again. Nothing was making sense, and your patience was slim to none, batting your eyes as the tears fell onto the pages where you were too fed up to care.

Your mind was scattered all over the place, thinking about how you needed to make sense of the content in front of you, but also about the many deadlines of other assignments you had under your belt. On top of that, you had other responsibilities that needed your full attention, yet you sat there wondering how you were even going to complete one of them.

There was something that snapped inside of you. A guttle cry that you let out as you pushed yourself out of your desk chair and stood with your hands threaded roughly in the roots of your hair. Hot, vicious tears floated down your cheeks while you paced in circles attempting to calm yourself down, but nothing worked.

You needed Steve, even when you didn’t want him to see you like this.

He was at your doorstep not even a whole ten minutes after you had phoned him, asking if he would drop by. It was almost midnight, and usually at this hour your nose was buried deep behind textbooks and assignments, but he could just tell something was the matter.

He had asked rushed and worriedly, if everything was okay, but you refused to give him a definite answer, just sniffling back your cries and humming, telling him to come over as soon as he could. The drive was short, and yet for him it felt like eternity until he was face to face with you on your front porch.

“Baby,” His voice was rigid yet gentle, striding closer to you as his warm hands came down to hold your arms, “Hey, what’s going on? Are you hurt?” He breathed, half catching his breath from his haste, and half worried out of his mind.

He bent a little at the knees, trying to get a better look at your face in the dimly lit doorway. All the color was drained from your skin, except the red path your tears took down your cheeks and your bitten lips.

You sniffled hard, an unevenness apparent in your breathing, “N—nothing,” you lied pathetically, closing your eyes as you shook your head, “I’m just a little stressed. You don’t have to worry about m-me.”

There was lots to worry about, especially seeing you in the state that you were in. Steve had seen you stressed out many times before. Worried about running late, leaving something behind, nervous about a final exam, but nothing ever to this extent. This was more than stress, and he knew it.

“Let’s go inside and talk, yeah?” He murmured, ignoring your comment and leading you back into your home, hoping to get you to talk some more.

Guiding you to the kitchen, he switched on the lights, pulling out a chair for you to sit at the dining table while he got you a glass of cold water and some paper towels.

“Have some water, baby,” He knelt on the ground, holding the cup of water to your lips.

You sniffled, closing your eyes tightly as you tried to catch your breath before taking a sip, letting him help you, and pulling the cusp away from your lips before you could cough up. You could feel his eyes boring through you, filled with fret wanting to get down to the bottom of the situation yet letting you go at your own pace.

He took the paper towel, crumbling it up into a small ball to dab over your cheeks and under your eyes, doing his best to soak up all the tears that kept pouring. His heart shook and broke in his chest, wondering what had happened to get you to this state of no return.

“Talk to me sweetheart,” He started, letting one of his hands come to hold your trembling one, giving you a firm squeeze. “What can I do to make it better?” He implored, just wanting to make whatever that was hurting you stop.

The desperation in his voice made another sob rip out from chest, face pinching into something painful as you hung your head low and wept as quietly as you could. You felt so weak and helpless, hating that you pushed yourself to the point where you made the one person who vowed to always be there for you feel as though he wasn’t.

“Babe, shhh, hey c’mon,” He murmured, immediately wrapping his arms around your body, pulling you close to him and burying your face in his chest, “It’s okay. I’m right here, baby. S’okay.”

You hadn’t said anything just amounting yourself to a mess of tears and unspoken feelings, not knowing how you could possibly articulate what you had been going through all this time.

“I—I’m sorry,” You muffled against his chest, causing him to pull away slightly, just to look at you and shake his head wondering why you were apologizing.

“You don’t have to be sorry baby—”

“I’m fucked up, I know I am.” You blurted out, a cruelty in your voice Steve could tell was directed towards yourself, not him.

“I-I’ve been so caught up with school and work that I know I haven’t been the best girlfriend, but I swear—”

“Hey stop it.” He didn’t let you finish, furrowing his brows, determined to make you understand the words you were saying about yourself weren’t true.

“This isn’t about you not being a good girlfriend. You’re so good to me, baby and I promise you whatever it is that’s going on, isn’t because of that. Talk to me. Don’t be scared.”

He assured you with warm circles rubbed over your back, just wanting you to focus on your feelings and not on what you thought you were making him feel. The only thing that mattered to him was understanding you, and how he could fit himself into the puzzle to make it all better.

“I’m just so tired,” You broke down once again, “I don’t feel like myself anymore, and even when I look at myself…I don’t see me.” You croaked, voice breaking in between words.

“All I want to do is relax, but my brain is just on a live wire where I can’t stop thinking and then I start spiraling. If it isn’t school, then it’s work, and if it isn’t work, then I’m thinking about all of the others things I don’t have time for in between school and work.” You heaved, just feeling the panic and frustration arise at the mere conversation.

He hated how he could see the contempt you had for yourself. Fingernails biting into the palm of your hands and a deep-seated frown over your lip, as if you wanted to crawl out of your skin to be someone completely different. But there was no one like you, in his eyes. Whatever it was that you were going through he was going to stand beside you and help you get back to feeling like yourself, the girl he couldn’t imagine living without.

“I’m here for you. I’m sorry I didn’t realize sooner,” He murmured, pushing the tear soaked strands of hair out of your face. “You work so hard all the time, you deserve a break.”

“I can’t,” you cried, shaking your head, rubbing exhaustingly at your eyes, “I physically can’t. I can’t fall behind when I already am.”

You wanted to listen to his advice, the knowing that deep down he was so very right, but you couldn’t look past the idea of letting people down and falling behind when you knew it was impossible to play catch up.

Steve knew how you operated on a one track mind to get things done and out of the way, which was obviously ideal. However, the amount of physical, emotional, and mental strain the work ethic had put you in was enough confirmation that he needed to step in before it got worse.

“Listen to me, hon,” He said tenderly, grasping your face in his hands, “You need a break. I’m not saying you have to abandon everything, but you need to take it easy on yourself. Learn how to step away and breathe. You’re going to work yourself to death if you keep this up…and you know I can’t live without you.”

His sentiment was true and sweet, something he was able to be at all times, even at times like this.

“I’m not going to let you fall behind, baby.” He promised you, swiping his thumbs over your cheeks, pressing a chaste kiss over your lips before he continued, “I’ll help you and we can take it on together, but you can’t keep stuff like this from me okay? The last thing I ever want you to feel is like you have to do it all alone.”

You sniffled, nodding as you swallowed back the lump in your throat, hiccuping slightly, “I-I know, I’m just usually so good at taking on everything, but I don’t know what happened.” You admitted with a shrug.

He nodded understandingly. “You might not feel it, but you’re overworked and that’s okay. I’m going to be here to help any way I can. With school, with work…with breaks.” He smiled softly.

“I’m sorry for not telling you sooner.” You stared up at him apologetically, wishing you hadn’t waited so long to tell him, knowing that he was always your number one confidant and supporter through everything.

Still, he shook his head, caressing your cheeks, “Don’t apologize, I’m here now and I promise it’s going to get better.”

He held you in his arms a little longer, letting you cry the rest of your tears into his chest, before suggesting to head up to your room. Agreeing, he grabbed a fresh cup of water to keep at your bedside before following you up the stairs and into your room.

Books and papers were sprawled out across your desk, hinting to him what had gone down before you called. He knew that school was beginning to take a toll on you with bigger projects and finals approaching, but had no idea it was getting worse and worse as the days passed by—but no longer, not with him around.

“Let me just…” You spoke under your breath, heading towards your desk to get everything cleaned up, now that Steve was spending the night and not wanting him to deal with the mess.

But he was quick to stop you, grabbing you gently by the wrist before you could even close the textbook, causing you to follow his lead to your bed.

“Hey…” He murmured, setting the cup down on the small table beside your lamp, “we’ll figure it out in the morning okay?”

“Hmm,” You hummed with a nod, letting him situate you into bed before toeing off his shoes and getting in beside you.

You turned to face him after he switched off the lamp, encasing you both in complete darkness. Eyes adjusting to the light, enough for you to make out his face, eyes closed peacefully, as his arms went instinctively around your frame, pulling you closer into him—the feeling you had been missing so desperately, wondering why you ever even thought to push it away.

“You know I’ll be here whenever you need me, all the time okay?” His voice broke the silence, nuzzling his face closer to yours, hoping you knew how true every word was.

“I know,” you promised, jutting your chin up to press a kiss to his lips that he smiled into, kissing you back a little harder wanting you to remember the feeling and that alone.

All the stress still lingered in the back of your mind, but the feeling that consumed wasn’t the fear or the exhaustion that had been weighing you down. It was the knowing that you were allowed to feel your feelings around Steve, and the security to know he was your person, rain or shine—and that in itself was enough for you to know it was going to be okay.

💌 reblogs, tags, comments, + likes are greatly appreciated! leave a comment and let me know if want to be added to my taglist!! 💌

a/n: very short one shot in honor of seasonal depression doing its big one on me...but don't worry im surviving through my safe space fiction characters!!! i hope you are all doing well and thank you again for sticking around!

taglist: @translatemunson @kennedy-brooke @manda-panda-monium @tvserie-s-world @givemeth @steveharringtonswife @astolenkiss @loving-and-dreaming @awkotaco24 @engenelxver @elfiaaaa @pbs-theundeadmaggot @johnricharddeacy @gaysludge @keerysfolklore @micheledawn1975 @ihatepeanutss @bakugouswh0r3

[sleepyangelkami]

TRUTH HOLDER j.herondale

 ☆ WORD COUNT - 1.3K

JACE HERONDALE X FEM!READER

 ☆ SUMMARY - being a seelie had its cons such as the inability to lie. jace has decided to mess with you, using such a fact to his own advantage.

 ☆ WARNINGS - smut, fingering, slight manipulation, dirty talk, dom!jace, sub!reader, praise kink, hickies, overprotectiveness, petnames, intended lower case, nothing i write is ever proofread 🩷

"what are you doing?"

your meek voice could be heard from where you sat on the bed, jace's bed from inside the institute, clad only in one of the boy's oversized shirts, nothing beneath.

jace walked back towards the bed with evident cockiness in his expression, you were sure that he couldn't shake it even if he wanted to. "just putting the silencing rune on the door." placing his mouth against your neck and his hands against your waist, unable to think of anything other than you.

your voice was above a whisper, hands roaming towards his neck. "promise?" because though he was a shadowhunter, he could still lie. a disadvantage you were seemingly always caught up in.

he parted his mouth from your neck, cocking his head to the side with a playful smile on his lips. "don't you trust me?" as if the question had been one that didn't need an answer, he'd press anyway.

your mind danced to the flashback when jace had told you he'd put the silencing rune on the door and yet as you walked out of the room the next day, you earned many stares and glances. jace had smirked at that, once confronted stating that you were his and everyone in the institute should know so. "not really." you answered honestly, voice low as a mouse.

a low chuckle fell from the blonde's lips, eyes tracing your face. "i love that you can't lie."

you, not so much.

there were many things you could have went your entire life without telling jace but when presented with the right questions, you had no choice but to answer with the truth, unable to will a lie to stain your tongue.

your own eyes traced his face. you could feel the gentleness of his fingers against your thighs, they'd moved from your waist to the nakedness of your skin, inching just below the shirt that he'd drawn up more than he'd care to admit. from earlier activities, he knew that nothing lay beneath the shirt, it only egged him on more.

his eyes bored into yours, a grin against his lips. "you really love me, don't you?" it was more of a statement, not a question. he could see it in the way your eyes couldn't leave his, the way they traced his skin so gently. you two weren't exactly 'exclusive' just yet but he was yours and you were his, it was all that mattered to the both of you.

his fingers gently moved upwards causing air to trap in your throat. "you already know the answer to that." stating the truth but unable to admit what so desperately scratched at your tongue.

around him, you couldn't be held accountable for the tales you would tell.

"no lies there." he answered, lips attaching and detaching from your neck again. "but i want to hear you say it."

his hot breath against the nape of your neck along with the tone of voice he spoke in, one of certain demand, as if he were giving you straight obligations. it was enough to have your face hot and your hands clawing at his arms.

you didn't have to be inexperienced to get so flustered around jace, it simply happened. your voice was strained, holing in a mewl at the edge of your tongue. "i can't." voice broken and shattered.

it was hard to keep a steady breath when his fingers travelled further up your skin, lips sucking on the skin of your neck, creating what he'd soon assure you was simply a 'love bite' and assure you that it was nothing to be embarrassed about, convincing you to wear it about in the institute and have people look at you funny.

"yes, you can, angel." his voice reassuring and soft, his fingers gently squeezed at your thigh. however, you answered with only a shattered gasp leading his fingers to trail further and beneath the cotton shirt over your frame. "come on, baby, say it." voice a breathless whisper against your exposed skin. "lemme hear you say it, come on."

being a seelie, you were bound by the truth, unable to lie.

however, jace herondale was the reason your mouth would spew so many words.

he couldn't force the words out of you, that wasn't how being a seelie worked, he could make you talk. but he had such a good way at making you do it, manipulating your lips into moving.

perhaps it was the gentle hand that moved upwards to your pussy, collecting the wetness of your core and causing you to whine, the feeling of his thumb sinking down on your clit and gently circling it. "say it." he teased, smirking close to your cheek.

"i love you."

and jace wore a look of satisfaction, knowing you couldn't lie, knowing it had been the truth.

"good girl." left his lips, sinking back onto your neck and allowing the first finger to enter your core. you shook, your face pushing into his shoulder and muffling your noises. "wanna hear you." is all he mumbled back. "silencing rune is on the door, baby, no one will hear you but me."

and didn't that sound like an offer you simply couldn't give up.

once again, jace herondale managed to put you in a position where you couldn't so much as fight it. a whine left your lips, feeling him add a finger into your core and pump them in and out without grace, rapidly.

you had this thing about you, beautiful soft and slow. jace would like to add that he was quite the opposite. and he relished in it. he relished in using his fingers to ram inside your hole, the palm of his hand hitting against your clit and causing enough stimulation to have your back arching from the bed, hands pawing at him like a kitten, trying to hold onto whatever sense was left in your head, using him to ground you.

however, the more you grasped at his big arms, caging you, the deeper you fell.

it was almost impossible to will your mind back to reality and jace didn't bother to help. on the contrary, he pushed you even further.

"good girl, good girl." smiling gently as he repeated the words to himself. his free hand came down on your face, thumb swiping across your bottom lip and watching as your face scrunched up in emotions you couldn't quite string together. "such a good girl f'me, huh?" words as much of a tease as they were a praise. "my pretty girl, yeah? you my pretty girl?"

and you were so far gone that you couldn't register the words that moved from his mouth to your ears, nodding and babbling incoherent words, whines and whimpers stretching from your mouth.

finally, you felt the familiar knot inside your stomach and the boy did nothing to stop his movements, willing you over the edge until finally he felt your juices on his fingers. he brought his hand up to lick them off, watching as your eyes shut and your pawing hands pulled him closer.

this time, he moved with your hands, coming closer to your body and letting you grasp onto him, the only reality left.

and the words seemed metallic on your tongue, unable to string anything else together. "i love you." you whispered, hopelessly. "i love you." like a prayer on one's dying tongue.

there was something eerily comforting to jace, knowing you couldn't lie to him, bound only by the truth.

i love you too repeated in his own head, willing it to move to his tongue. jace wasn't like you, he had the option to lie, though he'd never do such a thing.

yet he found the words harder to lift onto his tongue, unknowing if you'd ever believe him in the assuredness that he believed you. perhaps it was everything he was afraid of.

which is why he said nothing.

main masterlist/jace's masterlist

[blitzwhore]

Do you have any predictions for season 3?

I do! A lot! I've been letting this ask sit in my inbox for a few days so I could properly put them into words, and in doing so ended up making a prediction bingo:

Some of these need a bit more explanation, so allow me to elaborate:

-> I think M&M will ultimately keep the baby, but it'll have a big impact on the dynamics of I.M.P. It'll mean Loona will have to go on more missions (while Stolas stays as secretary). It'll mean Sallie May will be a lot more present, and might even join I.M.P. herself. It's already been established she's a skilled assassin. (I also think Millie will be scared to tell Blitz at first, fearing the strain she knows this will put on the business, but he'll immediately give her absolutely every financial and emotional accommodation she needs, even if it means overworking himself).

-> I think Vassago isn't gonna let go of the trial, and will chase after Andrealphus to get some answers, then eventually seek out Stolas. I think when he finds out that Stolas was just saving Blitz's life because they're in love, he'll ship the two of them very hard.

-> I think Cash will try to get back into Blitz's life for his own personal gain now that Blitz's business is going well and he's well known. This might lead to more childhood flashbacks, to Stolas finding out about the fire, and to Blitz's bond with everyone else growing. I think this might also be how Stolas finds out what really happened on the day they met as kids (Cash selling him to Paimon and forcing him to steal).

-> I think Octavia will forgive Blitz before she forgives Stolas. There are theories out there about Via being in danger and Blitz going through great lengths to save her; I could definitely see that happening. I also theorise Blitz will adopt her before she's of age, the same way he did with Loona.

-> I think we're going to see more of Andrealphus, and I personally agree with the theories that he secretly desires something like what Stolitz have, or maybe had a crush on Stolas growing up and/or has an imp fetish. Either way, I think the reason he doesn't want Stolas and Blitz to be happy will be a lot more personal than he's been leading everyone to believe.

-> I also think Ozzie and Fizz's relationship will continue to develop and grow as they face new challenges and sources of conflict, both within their relationship (eg. the tension from what happened at the trial) and from external sources (eg. Mammon).

-> Lastly, I think Asmodean Crystals are what give imps the ability to conjure a human disguise (see: Barbie in Unhappy Campers), and I think Stolas will help Blitz and M&M learn how to conjure theirs as soon as he finds out they don't know how. Or maybe Barbie herself will teach them? Who knows!

Other random things I didn't include in the bingo:

Loona and Stolas bonding

Many, many soft and tender moments between Stolas and Blitz

More sassy/cunty Stolas

More Octavia songs

Loona song?!

Barbie meets Loona

Also: Stolas meets Barbie

There are also things I didn't include because they're not exactly "predictions", as we've already been told/shown they're going to happen, like another trial, a Vassago song, and Stella backstory. Looking forward to those too!!

[fuckyeahlabynight]

VtM Fang Fest 2025!

Hello tumblr Vamily! I'm pleased to present:

The fuckyeahlabynight Vampire the Masquerade Fang Fest 2025!

To be held June 1 - 14, 2025.

This year's theme is Vices and Virtues, as used in the nWoD system. In the New World of Darkness system (home of Vampire: the Requiem, amoung others...) acting within their Vices and Virtues are one way how characters regain Willpower, and often inform aspects of the character's personality.

"Virtues and Vices are held by every single denizen of the World of Darkness. They show the duality of morality, and give a character something to strive for as well as a tempting place to fall."

How it works:

This is a super low-key fandom event fuckyeahlabynight hosts each year. The point is to have fun and make something creative to fill the prompts.

Each day, starting on June 1 and finishing on June 14, post whatever fan work you've made inspired by the Vices and Virtues prompt (eg. art, fic, gifs, poetry, music playlists, mood boards, whatever). I am giving you several weeks heads up to aid your creative process. You do not need to focus on LA by Night, NY by Night, or Project Ghostlight. Feel free to use your vampire OCs if it pleases you to do so!

When you post your creations, please include the hashtag #fangfest25 so they can all be collected here. If you can't think of anything for a particular prompt, or are otherwise unable to finish, it's perfectly fine to skip it. It's also fine to post your creations late. So long as you use the hashtag and I'm able to find it, it will be reblogged here regardless.

As always, those who are not taking part in making fan works are encouraged to like, comment on, give kudos, and share their favourites! Part of the fun is seeing what everyone else has made. Collaboration is also encouraged, so reach out to your fellow Kindred and see what you can come up with!

More info on each of the prompts will be below the cut. See you in June!

Pride: Extreme self-confidence, arrogance, ego, vanity. When you exert your own wants (not needs) over others, thinking you are better than them.

Greed: Avarice, desire for material objects to the point of excess. When you WANT something that you don't actually NEED, at the expense of another.

Wrath: Sadism, anti-social, hot-headed, uncontrolled anger and fury. Using your anger in situations that are completely unwarranted and inappropriate, often leading to violence.

Envy: Covetousness, jealousy, paranoia that others want to hurt you for what you have. Similar to greed, but more specifically you want only what others have.

Lust: Uncontrolled desire, lasciviousness, impatience. (Not always sexual!) You need to satisfy your passions in a way that victimizes another person.

Gluttony: Epicurean, over-consuming, over-indulging, addiction. You may not necessarily be indulging in food. It also applies to drugs, drinking, etc. to the point of harming yourself or others.

Sloth: Apathy, depression, cowardice, ignorance, laziness and lack of gumption. When you avoid completing a task, whatever that task may be, and others are forced to do it for you.

Faith: Conviction, humility, loyalty, belief. (Not necessarily in a god, though this is often the case.) It offers you a feeling of stability and meaning in a dark, chaotic world.

Charity: Generosity, sharing, giving instead of receiving, compassion, mercy, altruism. You risk yourself to help another in spite of any losses that may be suffered.

Fortitude: Courage, stoicism, mettle, integrity, stubbornness. You are able to withstand pressure to stray from your chosen course or long-held ideals.

Hope: Dreams, optimism, utopia. You refuse to allow yourself or others give in to despair and horror.

Prudence: Patience, vigilance, restraint. You refuse to take action that feels good in the short term, in favour of actions that benefit you in the long term.

Temperance: Moderation, chastity, even-temperament, being frugal and balanced in all things. You never indulge in any kind of excess behaviour.

Justice: Righteousness, condemnatory, judgement, protecting those who cannot protect themselves and punishing the atrocities and cruelties committed against them. You do The Right Thing, based on what you think is the right thing to do, regardless of how it may set you back.

~

Special note: Something to keep in mind when completing the prompts... In moderation, the vices are not always bad. A complete lack of pride, for example, can lead to zero self-worth and low self-esteem. Likewise, an excess of the virtues can also be a bad thing. For example, someone who is charitable to a fault may give away things they need for their own survival.

[transmutationisms]

i do think a specific shift wrt the word "privilege" that is worth chewing on is the move from a privilege being a discrete legal or financial permission—for example a printing privilege, ie permission to publish xyz, or a commercial privilege, ie permission to sell or buy or transport xyz goods—to the idea of having privilege as a sort of abstract quantity of social status. and i don't even disagree that the latter does, at least experientially, follow from the former. but trying to talk about privilege solely in the latter way, without identifying the underlying economic mechanisms and legal tools in question, never really goes anywhere useful. i think this is a major disconnect you see when concepts of privilege become widely discussed enough to make appearances in major media outlets, for example. these are outlets that refuse (sometimes wilfully, it doesn't really make a difference) to understand privilege as an economic mechanism by which the classes, castes, etc in question are actually constituted. all they can ever do is pretend like the characteristic in question is an immutable and transhistorical one that is simply being unjustly punished or rewarded—eg, you simply ARE male, and the privilege follows from that pre-existing condition—rather than that maleness itself is defined and created by the granting of specific rights, permissions, and privileges. so the only thing liberals can ever grant in such discussions is that privilege exists, abstractly and nebulously. that this framing is milquetoast and usually not very actionable is imo intimately related to the fact that it begins by taking a legal and economic term and instead engaging with it almost exclusively as a reference to the feelings and intentions of individuals: there is no longer a specific privilege granted by (ultimately) the state, but rather a generalised condition of being privileged. and of course such a condition does come to exist, but we don't make much progress understanding (let alone dismantling) it if we present it as springing out of nowhere or out of a general sort of social sentiment, rather than naming and problematising the specific political tools used to create and maintain it.