#CLOTHES ON WHICH IS COUNTERINTUITIVE

[number1jeonginstan]

A/N: Ngl, this was supposed to be a drabble… Anyway, I was listening to 2nd gen K-pop while listening to this, which is so counterintuitive because I was vibing to Gee while writing some of the craziest smut I��ve written in a while. Anyways, hope y’all enjoy <333 Answers 🥟 anon's request!

Minors don't interact, 18+

Pairing: Roomate Perv!Hyunjin x Perv!afab Reader

WC: 3k (oh!)

Warnings: Pervy reader and Jinnie, unprotected sex, m!masturbation, f!masturbation, use of vibrator, call reader names (whore, slut, good girl, ect…)

Your window cracked ever so slightly, allowing you to feel the spring breeze, but not enough to allow bugs and pollen to infiltrate your room. Your clock in the corner of your room was clicking away as the seconds passed. The only thing on your mind was what you were going to order for dinner. Before you could even shout out to your roommate, asking him what he wanted to eat, he barged into your room. The door ricocheted off the stopper causing you to look up. 

“What do you want to eat Hwang?” you asked, turning around so your back was touching your bed. He knew it was your week to order food, but that wasn’t what he was here for. “Just get whatever, I’m not picky”

Before he could even continue, you cut him off, stopping him mid-sentence, his mouth hung open.

“Dude, last time you said that you threw a 45-minute tantrum of how ‘it wasn’t what you wanted’ and made me order a whole separate dish, only for you to eat mine because you were hungry and didn’t want to wait that long.”

“Hey, if you got it right the first time, we wouldn’t have been in that situation” he huffed, jumping on your bed, causing you to lift a bit. 

He was wearing a black hoodie and some gray sweatpants, per usual. His new eyebrow piercing was right in your face as you turned to him. He chuckled, stealing your phone, and looking through the options to eat from. 

Turning around so your breasts were pushed against your bed. They were slightly spilling out from your tanktop, but it was too warm to care. You didn’t understand how your friend wasn’t burning up in his outfit, but you didn’t care enough to ask. 

“So, what are we getting to eat” you asked, trying to take your phone back from his grasp, but he stopped you. 

Damn him and his weirdly long fingers that no man should have. “I was thinking, beer and chicken? It’s simple enough and we still have some cans left over so I won’t drain your bank account” he grinned. 

You simply nodded, telling him to order it while you went to the bathroom. What you didn’t know was that wasn’t all Hyunjin did. A couple of weeks ago, when he asked to borrow your phone to send pictures of himself from a party the two of you attended with the rest of your friends, he saw pictures you took of yourself, in the cutest set he’s ever seen. 

He knows that he constantly sees you in your short clothes all the time, but something about you wearing a pink lacy set had him weak in his knees. He came twice just thinking about it, the image burned into the back of his retinas. 

He needed to see it again, so while you were doing your nighttime skincare routine, he went through your phone trying to find the photo. What he didn’t expect was there to be multiple angles and even multiple sets. He felt his cock harden in his pants, trying not to groan at the sight of you in barely anything. 

He quickly took out his phone from his hoodie pocket, making sure that you weren’t out yet, and airdropped himself the photos, so there wasn’t any evidence of what he was doing. 

He put his phone back in his pocket and exited out of your photos app just in time. You came out of the bathroom, your hair pushed back with a bunny hair band, whilst tossing one to him. “Come on, you know the drill” you giggled as he took off his hoodie, revealing his toned stomach and navel piercing.

He had gotten it with his eyebrow piercing after Jisung had dared him to. You were there for the entire thing, not expecting him to actually go through with it, but for some reason he did. It looked good though, so you weren’t going to complain. 

He eventually put on the headband, after a minute of his dramatic sighs and protests. You knew he could never say no to you. You giggled at him, realizing how silly you both looked, but not complaining. 

You pulled at him, trying to drag him off your bed so the two of you could watch a movie in the comfort of your living room. 

The layout of your apartment was a bit off. Your rooms were right next to each other, and you both had your own bathrooms and walk-in closet. Which was nice, especially due to how much money the two of you spent on clothes. 

Your living room was much smaller than others, connecting to your kitchen, but the two of you didn’t complain. It was homey and perfect for the two of you, and for the rest of your friends whenever they came over for your week’s movie night. 

You both finally made it to the living room after Jinnie complained that “your bed is too comfortable” and “How am I supposed to leave if Sergent Bingo doesn’t want me to?” 

You giggled at that, knowing how much he loved the stuffed animal that lived on your bed that he had won for you at the fair the first year of living together. 

“I think he will live, plus we can bring him with us if it means so much to you!” 

He just sighed as he got up, wrapping his arms around the stuffed bear and muttering about how Bingo didn’t appreciate being moved from his habitat. 

“You are such a big baby” you giggled, sitting on the couch next to him, wrapping a blanket around your body as you attempted to find something for the two of you to watch. 

“Am not” 

“Are too”  

Before he could rebuttal, the doorbell rang, causing you both to turn your heads. “Foods here” You got up, throwing the blanket at his face, laughing at his shocked expression. 

You got the food from the delivery man, thanking him for walking up all the steps to your apartment. “What did you order again?” you yelled from the kitchen, getting paper plates and beer cans from the fridge. 

“I got those cheese balls that you always fawn over, then just original and galbi because we both like that” 

You got back to your seat, cracking open one of the cans of beer as the two of you began to watch a K-drama that Seungmin had recommended, Move To Heaven.

Two episodes in, and the two of you were sobbing, the food was gone, and the beers that were previously in your hands were splayed across the table. 

“I can’t believe that happened to him, what did he do to deserve this?” you sobbed, hugged Hyunjin who was also on the verge of tears. 

“I mean, who kills them off the first episode, like he did not need that happening to him” he said, hugging you back. 

“I think that’s enough for today,” you said, wiping the tears off your face as you turned off the TV. Hyunjin threw away all the boxes and plates as you collected the blankets, folding them and putting them away in the storage closet next to the living room. 

“Good night, sleep tight!” you said to Hyunjin as he began walking to his room. He bid you a good night as well, laughing at the way you were holding Sergent Bingo above your head as you entered your room. 

Little did either of you know that you were in fact not sleeping tight.

You had taken out the vibrator your friend had gifted to you for your birthday, making sure it was fully charged before pressing it against your clit. It was small, but it did the job perfectly, always leaving you satisfied. 

You usually never got off when Hyunjin was home, but you had been so pent up for the last month, that you just had to do something about it. You couldn’t wait any longer, you removed your shorts and underwear in one go and began to tease your slit. 

You could feel the cool air hitting your legs and cunt, the small hairs on your legs sticking up at the sensation, but you ignored it, the only thing on your mind being Hyunjin. 

The way he looked today, the way he smelt. You would think a grown man wearing a bunny headband couldn’t be hot, but you were wrong. The way he licked his fingers, trying to get the sauce off them, all you could imagine if that was how he would eat you out.

Would he suck on your clit like he did his fingers, how would they feel inside you? You thought back to his grey sweatpants, the way you could see the imprint of his dick against them, causing you to rub your thighs in front of him. You prayed that he didn’t see you, but if he did would he help you?

You could feel yourself getting wetter at every passing moment, your finger rubbing against your clit. It wasn’t enough though, you needed more stimulation or else you wouldn’t be able to get anywhere. 

You turned on your vibrator, allowing the low hum of it to overtake your room. You began to slowly press it against your clit, low moans escaping your lips as you press it harder onto yourself. You tried to keep quiet, but it felt so fucking good, that you didn’t notice the moans escaping your lips. 

But Hyunjin noticed, he could hear each moan escaping your lips. He was devouring each one like it was a hymn. He could feel his cock getting harder, straining against his boxers and sweats, it isn’t weird that he’s hearing you right?

If he just happens to jerk off right now, it wouldn’t be weird, right? He just happened to feel the need to get off at the same time as you. It wasn’t your moans that were making him this hard. 

That’s what he kept telling himself as he pulled his cock out of his boxers and sweats. He began to languidly stroke his cock to the sounds of your moans, using the pre-cum leaking from his tip as lube. 

He slowly pulled out his phone, looking at the pictures that he had airdropped himself earlier. Were you wearing the set you had in the picture, were you lying down like this, all pretty with your legs spread out just for him? 

Would you be able to take his cock, or would you whine that it’s too much, how your tight little cunt couldn’t take it? 

His body shivered as he could feel himself getting closer, but it all stopped when he heard another broken moan escape your lips.

“Jinnie-ah” 

He couldn’t believe it, you weren’t moaning his name. It was just his imagination until he heard it again. The whimper that escaped your lips as you moaned out his name. 

“Hyunjin, fuckkk” 

His body went rigid, he quickly got up, dressed himself, and pressed his ear against your shared wall. He needed to hear you say his name again. He had to make sure it was his name you were moaning. 

You couldn’t cum, it wasn’t enough, no matter how much you tried. You were so pent up, you needed to cum, but you just couldn’t, so you began crying. Tears streamed down your face as you tried to fuck yourself with your fingers as your vibrator was still attacking your clit, but it wasn’t enough. 

That was til you heard your door creak open, there you saw Hyunjin. You tried to cover your body as fast as you could, but he didn’t let you, ripping your blanket off your body, leaving you in just your tank top. 

“Such a fucking whore, moaning my name. You were just begging for me to hear you, right baby? Poor little thing can’t cum by herself, she needs my fingers, doesn’t she?”  

You just nodded, no longer feeling ashamed, feeling the need to cum. “It’s okay baby, I’m here to help. Sometimes whores can’t get off by themselves, that’s why you need me”

He got on top of you, his knees pressed into your bed, trapping your thighs between them. He kissed your lips, nibbling at your bottom lip before moving his lips down to your neck, sucking at your skin. 

“Who do you need baby?” he asked, removing his lips from your neck, running his finger against your slit, feeling how wet you were.

“Need you” you whined underneath him as his finger pressed against your clit. “Then why were you using this instead of coming to me?” he asked, holding up your vibrator. 

“Is this better than me?” he asked, pressing his finger against your clit, causing you to moan. “Come on baby, you can’t be this dumb?” He asked you again, slapping your face slightly, sticking his thumb in your mouth, causing you to suck. 

“It’s okay, I can make you cum like the whore you are” he chuckled before taking his finger out of your mouth and began to finger your hole. “Fuck you are so tight” 

“Mhm, only for you Jinnie” you moaned as he began to thrust his fingers faster into you, adding another one. Your walls were clenching around him. “Look at you, so close to cumming. Can’t believe you were using this flimsy little thing. Should we see if it really works?” 

Before you could even comprehend what was going on, he turned on your vibrator, pressing it against your clit. 

“FUCK!” you moaned, you felt like you were so close to cumming, it only took Hyunjin another curl of his fingers in your cunt to make you cum around his fingers. Your body was convulsing around him, your thighs enclasping his hands. 

“Ah ah, you are going to take my cock baby. Why do I think I prepped you? Moaning my name like the fucking slut you are. You are the one who caused this” he whispered into your ear while dragging your hand to his pants, allowing you to feel how hard his cock was for you.

He flipped you around while pulling down his own boxers and sweats, throwing them somewhere in your room. You took a look behind you to see his cock, and your jaw dropped. He was huge in length, not as much in girth, but his cock was so pretty. 

His tip was pink and leaking precum while he had multiple veins running alongside his cock. “How is that going to fit?” you whimpered, “Don’t worry, I’ll make it fit baby.” 

He slapped his cock on your ass before sliding the tip along your slit, causing you to moan. He lifted you by your hair, wrapping it around his hand, causing you to cry at the sharp sting. “Look at my cock baby, fuck, have never felt this fucking hard in my life. You are gonna make me feel good aren’t you baby? Going to take my cock like the good girl you are” 

“Yes, gonna take your cock, gonna take it so well” you whimpered as he pushed the tip inside of you. 

“Feels so good” you moaned as he let go of your hair, your head loling on the side of your pillow. 

“Fuck baby, barely have the tip in and you are so fucking tight. Can’t wait til I make you mine” 

He slowly began to thrust his cock into you, adding an inch at a time. But as your walls clenched around him, he lost all of his patience, thrusting his cock deep inside of you.  

He slowly took his cock out of you, leaving only the tip in, only to thrust back into you with full force. 

“You planned this didn’t you?” he asked, as he continued to pound into you. Your face was deep in your pillows, your voice muffled, so he yanked at your hair, causing you to moan.

“Speak when you are spoken you slut” he slapped your ass, causing you to moan. “You planned this didn’t you, the photos of you in your camera roll. You moaning my name so loud the entire floor could you” 

“What if I did?” you said giggling. This only enraged him more, causing him to thrust into you faster. Your hair was still in his hand, your back arched against his chest.  “Such a fucking whore, making me think I was a pervert when you orchestrated everything.” 

“Just wanted you, are you that mad at me” you whimpered as he took one of his hands to rub your clit. 

“I could never be mad at you baby, you know that” he kissed your neck before letting your hair go, your face falling back into the pillows. He lifted your hips a bit higher, causing you to scream out his name, which was fortunately muffled by the pillows underneath you. 

“I can feel you baby,” he said, feeling the way your walls were clamping his cock “cum for me baby, cum on my cock and take my cum like you’ve always wanted to” he said, kissing your back. 

That was all you needed to cum on his cock, he used one of his hands to muffle your screams, not wanting to wake everyone up. It didn’t end there though, he continued to rut into you, chasing his own high. 

“Please Jinnie, too much can’t take it anymore” you whimpered underneath him, but that didn’t stop him. He needed to cum, he needed to mark you as his. “Fuck baby, you can take it, just a little more there we go” 

He came with a moan, filling you up with cum and making you squirm underneath him. He kissed your lips before falling next to you, pushing the hair out of your face.

“I hope that was okay,” he said, looking at you a bit ashamed. 

“Okay? That was amazing, I think that’s the hardest I’ve ever cum in my life” you said, kissing his lips. “The only thing I think is not okay is Sergent Bingo, his poor innocent eyes” which caused you both you laugh. You both wrapped your arms around one another, falling asleep in each other’s embrace.

[wlfawnbby]

my list of hunger distractions:

watch a movie. I've been watching a looot of movies recently to avoid going to the kitchen

watch anything actually. I love to watch ed wieiad. but also I like watching Mukbangs or literally anything. (anyone else love the broski report...)

Cleaning. It's easy to forget about hunger when cleaning. Organizing my bedroom can take hours so its very time consuming. Things like doing dishes or scooping the litter box are so gross that they make me lose my appetite.

Going for a walk. Getting AWAY from the food is nice. And walking burns cals so its a win-win.

Taking a shower. If I have to look at my n4ked figure.... I'm not gonna want to eat anymore

Cooking/baking. this seems so counterintuitive. But if I make something for my family, I get the fun of preparing food and I can use it as an excuse to not eat.

Homework. I always have homework to do. If I can get into the rhythm of studying then Ill forget about my hunger.

sleep. can’t eat if you're unconscious.

Scroll on Tumblr/Pinterest. Th1nsp0 and M34lsp0 is all over my feeds which makes me want to not eat

Games. I've been playing Dress to Impress because I'm basic asf, but its so fun and the characters are kinda th1nsp0.... I also really like animal crossing. And it animal crossing I can make my character eat fruit which kinda subsides my hunger in some weird way.

Making playlists. Making new playlists. Changing playlist names or photo covers. I love organizing my Spotify account, its so fun.

Shopping. Online and irl. Going out and shopping can be a fun day activity even if you don't buy anything, I also like to use it as an excuse to lie to my parents "Oh I ate while I was out so Im not hungry". And walking around burns cals. I like seeing clothes I'm gonna wear when I get thinner, its good motivation.

Working out. I really want to start going for more runs again. My family is renevating our basement right now, but when it’s done I can do body weight workouts again & we have a rowing machine which is my fav thing ever. Also I figure skate, which is a great way to burn cals and Ana is so so normalized within the community lol

Plan. I've discovered that you are allowed to plan fake events. It’s so fun to plan random outings.

Read. I love a good book.

bedrotting. I looooove a good bedrot reach. Just lay down (I like to have my stuffed animals 🎀) and doomscroll until you forget

scroll on tumblr,twitter,Pinterest. So much good m3alsp0 and th1nsp0. Literally crushes my appetite.

playing instruments. I play guitar and piano.

[gayhenrycreel]

we got to talk about this bizarre... pressure to be non binary coming from certain people.

honestly, i think its rooted in exorsexism/enbyphobia, which may seem counterintuitive, but hear me out.

when i came out as a binary guy, i wanted to test what i was comfortable with in gender presentation. i tried on some nail polish, and then my mum tried to say i was non binary... which im not, im a guy.

ive also heard of butches going through the reverse.

certain cis people learned that non binary people exist, and dont even know that its an umbrella term that has no set definition. a seemingly cis masculine guy could use he/him pronouns but not care about gender and so consider himself non binary. but some people dont understand how this is possible.

some cis people think non binary = androgynous or gnc, resulting in attempted allies thinking feminine men and masculine women have to be non binary.

these people of course also are weird about non binary people who are not woman lite. its its own form of exorsexism.

in my experience, certain queer spaces find masculinity to be frightening, and will pressure masculine people to be more androgynous, or even feminine. id guess that theyd probably find too much femininity to be annoying.

gender is a social construct, but no one is obligated to break it. i enjoy masculinity because it feels natural to me. pink is also a social construct, itself being light red, but people can still like pink more than darker reds.

gender is a bit silly, and you can join in if you want. if you don't like it you can opt out.

cis folk trying to be supportive need to understand that sex, gender, and clothes are entirely separate, unless you personally like joining them for yourself and no one else.

[riality-check]

cw: discussions of body image

After everything, Steve gets softer.

Eddie spends so much time around him that he doesn't even realize it's happening, not until he's looking through his version of the photo album Jonathan put together toward the end of summer '86 so he could give it to Nancy and Robin and everyone else before the graduating class headed their separate ways.

He looks at it on an August day in 1987, about a year or so after Jonathan shyly handed them out. It's hot as balls outside, and while the AC in the trailer makes a lot of noise, it doesn't make a lot of cold, so it's hot as balls inside, too. Eddie ties his hair up with a purple scrunchie he stole from Nancy last week, and as he's looking at a page in the photo album, he stops.

It's a picture of Steve lounging by the pool, sunglasses on, blissfully unaware of Max and Erica in matching blue bathing suits standing behind him, poised to dump a bucket of water on him. Eddie remembers how Steve chased them down after, soaking wet, and threw them both into the pool without a single shred of hesitation.

He remembers Nancy's knowing look as he flushed from his face all the way down to his chest, thinking very not-PG thoughts about Steve being so strong, and he remembers shaking his soaking wet hair at her to make her shriek.

But, obviously, he didn't remember how Steve looked then. He's been superimposing the version of Steve he knows now onto the one that existed then. Casualty of spending nearly every day with him after the Spring Break from Hell.

Steve, in the summer of 1986, was so skinny.

Not rail thin like Eddie was. Not even close. He's always been broad, always muscular, but in that picture of him lounging on the chair with his arms above his head, shirtless and wearing a pair of swim trunks with the periodic table on them - a gag gift from Dustin that he actually ended up using - Eddie can see the definition of his stomach, his arms, his chest.

He looks good in the photo, but, then again, Steve could wear a potato sack and roll around in a pig sty, and Eddie would still think he looks good.

"What are you looking at?" a voice says from the doorway.

Eddie looks up to see Steve, 1987 Steve, the Steve he knows now.

He's got his arms crossed around his chest, looking at Eddie with a fond sort of smile. His glasses - which he refused to get until Robin dragged him to the optometrist - are perched on his nose, and he's barefoot and shirtless, having just thrown on a pair of shorts after getting out of the shower.

And Eddie realizes that Steve now, in the year since, has gotten softer.

He remembers reading, once, that really strong people don't have super defined muscles. Whatever book he found that in acknowledged that it was counterintuitive, but that fat supports muscle. The two have to exist, side by side, and a muscular body without fat is a body under stress.

Steve in 1986 was under stress. Eddie realizes, and a sort of warm relief floods his chest when he does, that Steve in 1987 isn't under stress anymore.

He's still strong and broad. Always has been, probably always will be. But where there was definition in his stomach last year, there's a little bit of squish now. His biceps have gotten bigger, too, as have his thighs.

Eddie is torn between wanting to bite him and wanting to squeeze him and never let him go.

"Jon's photo album," he says instead, and Steve traverses the general clutter of clothes, music sheets, and cables on the floor of Eddie's room to get to his bed.

He sits down next to Eddie, and Eddie can't resist wrapping an arm around his waist and squeezing, pulling him into his side.

Steve, as always, complies.

Eddie doesn't flip the page in the book. He lets Steve look at the page of pictures from Max's birthday, then watches as his eyes land on the picture of him.

Eddie watches him frown and decides that, nope, they're not doing that today.

Steve has told him, vaguely, about some of the stuff he was pressured into doing for sports. About cutting calories and vigorous exercise, about how soreness and hunger were viewed as prizes instead of pain.

He mentioned, once, how he was glad he never did wrestling because he was pretty sure it would have made it all a hell of a lot worse.

And to think Eddie used to hate jocks before dating Steve.

"You're hotter now," he says without any preamble, and while he probably should have started this conversation differently, it's worth the surprised laugh Steve lets out.

"You're just saying that," he says, and Eddie can't let that stand.

He puts the photo album on the bed and climbs into Steve's lap, holding his face in his hands.

"I'm not," he says seriously. "You're hot all the time. Probably always have been, definitely always will be."

It's true. Eddie's miserable crush on Steve during his first senior year, when Steve had that awful haircut was the subject of much good-natured bullying from Gareth, Jeff, and Archie, as well as bonafide proof that, unfortunately, he could not choose who to have a crush on.

"But I love whatever version of you I have in front of me the most," Eddie continues. "So, you're hotter now."

Steve smiles. it's a timid smile, one that Eddie thinks doesn't suit his face. Steve is a confident guy at his core. Timid smiles look like he's trying on a too-small Halloween costume.

"You mean it?" he asks.

"Of course I do," Eddie says, kissing him once on the forehead. "You're always warm, you're strong as hell, you give amazing hugs, and you make me feel safe."

"Safe?"

"Yeah. You feel safe. Like home."

Steve's face breaks out into a grin, one that's more confident, one that suits his face better, and he kisses Eddie once, slow and sweet.

And if Eddie loves holding and being held by Steve, well, that's no one's business but theirs.

And if Eddie's favorite place to be is laying with his head in Steve's lap, cheek pressed to his stomach as he falls asleep, well, they don't need to say anything about it.

[justalittlesolarpunk]

hi! i love your blog :D do you have any advice to implement low waste and solarpunk aspects into everyday life with a tight budget? keep doing what you do!

Hi!

Thanks for asking - I’ve had this question before and it’s definitely a real problem. Organic, plastic free food is expensive. So is handmade durable clothing, and train fares these days. It can feel like only the rich can be solarpunks, which is pretty counterintuitive given its anticapitalist ideology. But! I’m here to tell you there’s lots you can do to bring solarpunk into your life in a cost-effective way.

To start with, lots of solarpunk spaces are free or cheap. Get a library card and you can borrow as many books and DVDs and other resources as you like. Look up to see if there’s a library of things in your neighbourhood, and join a buy nothing or stuff for free group online. Download TooGoodToGo, which lets you access food from local cafes and restaurants which would otherwise go to waste. See if there’s a repair cafe that operates near you - I managed to get a pair of trousers mended at one of these for free, and I had been thinking I would need to pay a tailor (which is fine if you can afford it! Skilled labour deserves fair wages!). In some places plant-based food is cheaper, so when it is, choose it. But in others it will cost more than animal products so you have to decide on a case by case basis whether saving money or a particular diet is more important to you.

There’s lots else you can do for minimal spending or that actually saves you money. Walking to work or school avoids the expenditure in the petrol for a drive or a bus fare. If you’re within walking distance and able to do so, I’d recommend it. Joining your local chapter of Extinction Rebellion, Friends of The Earth, Greenpeace, The A22 network or any other active climate group in your area is almost always free and just involves a small weekly time commitment. This will introduce you to activists and inform you about protests and public meetings you can attend.

If you have the time in your week and the physical ability, which I acknowledge many people don’t, you can also join some sort of volunteer group looking after a nature reserve or tending a community garden (which might also give you access to free or discounted food). Learning to forage is also a good skill as that really is free food!

Depending on where you are, a green electricity tariff *can* also be less expensive. If this is the case and you have control over your provider, it’s worth switching to it. Buying books and clothes secondhand will also be better for the environment and your bank balance. Teaching yourself about the climate and the natural world with podcasts, YouTube, online free articles and other resources is also free and the knowledge will help you keep solarpunk at the front of your mind. Read good news stories online whenever you can, to remind you that good things are happening already.

If you’re employed, you can also try to influence green policy at your workplace or in your trade union. If you’re at school or university, joining (or setting up!) the environmental society and/or lobbying for change at the SU are both good ideas and shouldn’t necessarily cost you anything. If you can - and I know this is inaccessible for a big swathe of the population - put a very small amount of money aside whenever possible, because the more you save the more you can afford to buy better products, donate to causes, help out the needy in your community, travel in a greener way, and other more expensive choices. It’s all about that dual power.

Hope this helps get you started!

[ittybittykittyfingers]

Winter Clothing Tips

I wanted to make a friendly and detailed list of stuff I've learned from living in a cold climate.

(Note that I do not have vegan-friendly options- suggestions with links to a vegan product's efficacy are welcome)

This stuff is common knowledge where I live but it occurred to me that it might be useful to someone if I laid it all out. I'll be updating this list if I think of more.

I absolutely adore winter and want to help you love it too! Cheers! List below.

• “Cotton kills!" You see, when cotton gets wet, it will suck warmth from your body and freeze on your skin surprisingly easily. Use wool in place of cotton because when wool gets wet, it will still insulate you.

• Know how to layer! Counterintuitively, having layers of thinner, high-quality materials is less bulky than having a single jacket or pair of gloves/socks. Plus, it has the added bonus of being able to be taken off and switched around according to your needs.

1. Base layer - this is the layer that touches your skin. You want this layer to be light, flexible, and moderately form-fitting. This layer's job is to be moisture-wicking. Sweat evaporates, even under layers, so you want something that will move it away so you don't feel the cooling effect. You also just don't want moisture on your skin. Real silk is recommended.

2. Mid layer - this layer can actually be as many layers as you want. I rarely need anything more than a knit merino wool sweater, but accommodate yourself. This layer does the brunt of the work of keeping you warm. Real, non-blended wool is recommended, but really any wool will be miles better than most anything else.

• make it a priority to keep your center warm. Many people choose a vest as a mid-layer as it keeps bulk off of your arms and keeps your middle toasty.

3. Shell - this layer keeps the warmth in and the elements out. Many people go for waterproof shells so they can be worn all year (i.e. rain jacket). Shells have little to no insulation and usually have a hood. You want the shell big enough to always cover your underlayers, but not so big that it bunches up. I don't have a material to recommend here since anything truly waterproof and tough enough to resist puncture will do. It can actually get hot under there so consider whether you might want a ventilation hole for your arm pits. There are plenty of options. Know that any shell which says it's both breathable and waterproof is lying (unless it's a super fancy item, like $300 fancy). Sometimes, a water resistant material will be better for you than a waterproof one. It depends.

• socks, socks, socks! A pair of silk foot liners paired with a good pair of wool socks will keep you comfy all day. Make sure your winter shoes/boots are a bit too big to accommodate the extra space that multiple socks take up. Make sure your socks are taller than the top of your boots. You want the socks sticking out from the top. I like to layer my foot liners the highest, then the wool socks a bit lower, than the top of my boot lower than that. You can always fold the top of socks to make them a comfortable height. (Pro-tip: do not use ankle socks! They will bunch up)

• The above logic should be used for gloves too. You'll want to make sure your shell gloves are waterproof but thin enough that you are able to use your hands. Again, the name of the game is staying dry.

• Waterproof, non-slip boots are a must. You don't need to get fluffy or insulated boots if you use my sock tips. This saves money too because now you have boots to wear all year instead of just winter boots. I'm a fan of Gore-Tex with Vibram soles.

• If you do a lot of walking on pavement and such, get a pair of crampons! There are tons to choose from. They're awesome. They'll have you confidently walking around a frozen driveway with ease. Crampons are these rubber and metal things you strap to the bottom of your boot. They often use either spikes (only recommended for seriously rough terrain) or coils that lay horizontally under your foot to increase traction.

• Speaking of footwear accessories, consider getting waterproof gators. Common wisdom is to tuck pants into your waterproof boots to keep them dry. Sometimes, especially if the snow is deep enough, snow will get trapped at the top of your boots where your pants are tucked in anyway and it'll start dripping into your boots. Gators fix this issue. They're these... they're like shin guards that go all the way around your ankle and up to your knee. They cover the area where your pants meet the boots and will completely prevent snow from getting in. (Pro-tip: if you get ones that are also puncture resistant, they can be used in nice weather too to prevent ticks and protect against snake bites. They're perfect for tall grass. I use mine all year.)

• Scarves are often overlooked but they can make a huge difference. You'll want to find a way to tie them that is comfortable for you. There are plenty of guides on the internet for that. I've found that extra long scarves tend to be the most useful. I like to stuff the ends of them into my layers for extra coverage wherever I need it. Plus, it's easier to tie long scarves.

• Get a good hat that also has ear flaps. I like ones that have space above my head so that a warm air pocket forms, keeping my head comfy. Or you could get a pair of earmuffs that go around the back of your head to pair with your hat. You can use the hood of your shell to protect your hat if you need to, so focus on comfort and warmth for the hat rather than it being waterproof or especially durable. I tend to like alpaca wool for hats.

• Sunglasses can make a difference since blinding light glares off of the snow.

• Before you go out in the snow, put one of those foldable clothes drying racks in your bathtub. Leave a watertight bin by the door you'll be coming in from. Lay a towel at the door if you don't have a good/big enough doormat. You'll be dripping water and littering the floor with snow and ice when you come back inside. Wipe off/ shake off as much snow from your person and knock your boots on the lip of the doorframe before coming inside (this logic works for cars too). Put your wet clothes in the bin. Change into whatever you need to. Bring the bin with you to the bathroom and hang up your articles on the clothes rack to dry. You can keep your boots in there too, just make sure the clothes aren't going to drip into the boots. If you want to get fancy, you can buy a cheap boot dryer to keep in the bathroom.

• Once you get inside after being out in the cold, remove your jacket immediately. It'll take you longer to warm up inside if you keep wearing your outdoor clothes.

• Quick buying tip- if you end up visiting somewhere that's cold a lot, be sure to check out a wealthy location's Goodwill and thrift stores. I've found amazing brands like Patagonia, Kool, and Spider there for cheap!

• TL;DR If there's any one thing I would want to impress upon you, it's that materials matter. You could be wearing 4 cotton sweatshirts and still be cold or you could wear one marino wool sweater with a rain coat and be toasty and comfy.

[satosugusandwich]

𝔏𝔢𝔱 𝔐𝔢 𝔖𝔢𝔢 𝔜𝔬𝔲’𝔯𝔢 𝔐𝔢𝔞𝔫…

True Form!Sukuna x Fem!Afab!Reader (This is an AU!!! Sukuna is not a homicidal maniac cannibalistic murderer! I think he’s sexy and my morals say no dick from crazy murderer BUT dick from crazy 😍)

Cw: very brief mention of trauma, sukuna is an ass, alcohol, mild sexual content but no smut just yet

Description: You've been friends with Yuji Itadori for some time now and have seen the best, the worst, and the strange in all your years of knowing him. You've never thought he was one to have any crazy secrets and well... you were wrong. And now the demon bound to Yuji is bound to you too! How fun! Good thing that you aren't stupid and won't fall for a being that by no means should you have ever interacted with! Right? Right...?

*Yuji is aged up but there will be no sexual stuff with him except maybe like a brief mention but yeah*

Chapter 3 Here!

@dressycobra7

Chapter 4: Quite the Teacher

You did your best to avoid Sukuna most of the time after that and eventually Yuji left your apartment to pick up a few changes of clothes, so you were left alone with Sukuna again. Sukuna was an enigma to you and you to him. Before you could interact with Sukuna, he'd have to watch you through Yuji even though most of the time he did his best to stay away from Yuji. When Sukuna was first reawakened, he was obsessed with fucking around with Itadori and pushing his buttons, but Yuji was far too stubborn to break so eventually Sukuna gave up. Now, he has the perfect opportunity to get quality entertainment but of course he's stuck with an overly sensitive human that has spent the past few days crying or eating. Its no fun when he can't get a reaction out of them, you'd break too fast for his liking. Yuji doesn't break at all, in fact, each time Sukuna pisses off Yuji, he mostly ignores him.

After a few days, you decided you would go to class even if you didn't want to. Yuji agreed that it was good for the sake of normalcy and explained not to worry about Sukuna because he'd most sleep on the ground somewhere or lay down his seats in the car. So long as Sukuna chooses to follow Yuji around, he won't have to be stuck with you. And yet... here he is, staring over your shoulder while you try to listen to the lecture. It felt so awkward having Sukuna hovering above you, just standing to your left while no one else can see him. You have no idea why he decided you'd be the best to follow and you weren't very flattered by it. It took everything for you to not react. The professor would keep talking and then Sukuna would make some side comment about the information he's trying to teach or make a comment about what one of the other students is doing. It didn't help if they were funny and you had to do the most not to laugh.

The monster has always been attentive, things would catch his eye that no one else would from his hundreds of years worth of battle experience. Humans have always had interesting habits to him, some that were entertaining and others that were plain annoying. For example, in the show he was watching, there were humans that were fond of being suspended in intricate patterns and tortured pleasurably which seemed counterintuitive to the human urge to survive. On the other hand, there were more annoying habits, like the humans that obsessed over adjusting their clothing to always look a certain way, as if others' opinions made them so insecure it was palpable. To him, if another judges, why not just show them to mind their own business? Sadly, you were one of those that seemed preoccupied with others views of you. And one that was too timid to tell others to mind their business.

You got up to go to the bathroom and he followed behind you. "Hey," you said once you were out the door, "can you stand further away from me? Or like teleport to Yuji or something?"

With his observational skills, he could tell you were uncomfortable with him watching you, as much as you initially tried to hide it. "Why can't I stand next to you?"

"It feels weird! You keep on staring at me!" You entered the bathroom and shut the door behind you.

"Weren't you staring at me all day yesterday?" He said through the door.

Your face got hot, but not in embarrassment, more so frustration. You really didn't want to leave class as boring as it was, you just wanted to be isolated from Sukuna from a moment and especially his peering eyes. Sukuna wanted to push you as much as he also wanted to know how your brain works, frustratedly his only choice was to stalk you. (It is not his only choice, he’s not good at asking questions.)

When you exited the bathroom, you came face to face with him and you couldn’t help but look into his eyes, you’d never seen real life red eyes before, and never this many on one face. Sukuna didn’t make any comments about your staring but it certainly amused him whether or not he’d admit it. You looked away and started to walk back to class, but this time he decided to sit outside of the room and rest on two of his arms.

Once you reached the end of the day, you were reunited with Yuji which you were beyond grateful for. You have no fucking idea how he tolerates having Sukuna with him at all time or at least in proximity. You can practically have zero privacy unless a door is between you! And did Sukuna watch him as much as he watches you???? You assumed he had just gotten used to it over time and you sincerely hoped you would too. You really hadn’t chewed on the fact that you’re actually stuck with him for life and you wondered if Yuji had accepted that as well. Did Sukuna?

Yuji suggested going to get some drinks tonight, a little pick me up to get you out of your head and while you originally opposed the idea, you decided maybe it’ll take your mind off the trauma and Sukuna. Before that, the three of you went to your place and you slept for nearly the whole day before you sat back to do work, which helped to bring you back into your body and not your thoughts. Then it was 8pm.

You wanted to go out at a seemingly normal time and just throw back a few in peace and maybe talk to a few people while you were at it. Since you all decided to ride in your car, Sukuna was lucky enough to have ample space for once. You didn’t know if he really wanted to follow you around or if the binding made it so that he couldn’t leave either of your sides and Yuji was also wondering the same thing, he just didn’t want to stir the pot. When you arrived at this cute little bar, you were met with Megumi, Yuji’s boyfriend.

“Hey!” You ran up to the man sat at the bar. “I haven’t seen you in a little bit!”

Megumi smiled and waved while Yuji placed a kiss to his cheek. “Yeah, I’m back in town. I visited my sister for a few days.”

Yuji sat down beside him. “I’m so happy to see you!!!” He was ecstatic, grinning from ear to ear. Looking at the boys, they seemed like opposites. Yuji being a super jubilant, bright eyed, pink haired, and muscular dude versus Megumi being a somber, dark eyed, dark haired, more athletic build. It was charming to you, but clearly, the touchy feely stuff made Sukuna groan. He sounded like a grossed out kid.

“I already ordered some shots.” Megumi said. “I know Yuji and Nobara would down them super fast.”

The name made your eyes light up. “Oh is she coming?” You loved when she was around since you were able to complain about men together.

Megumi nodded. “She’s in the bathroom, we came together.”

Sure enough, she was out as soon as he said that, pulling her tube top up and running to you. You outstretched your arms to hug her as if you hadn’t seen her in ages and, of course, another groan from Sukuna. Nobara started pattering on, telling you all about the past few weeks and why she hasn’t been around as much. You kept on giggling and it was like you forgot Sukuna was there. the demon had found his way to a corner and opted to people watch while you continued to bore him. He was still attentive to you, wondering how long he was going to be stuck here watching you all.

Over the past few years of watching Itadori, he learned to find ways to entertain himself, be it creating stories in his mind or thinking about his life. When he felt the urge to mess with people, considering he was able to interact with objects, he loved giving people a spook. One thing he will miss is constantly spooking you, now that you’re aware of his presence, it’ll be much harder. A poor dude decided to turn his back so Sukuna shifted his drink over to the other end of the table. The man didn’t notice it at first, so he did it again. The second time had the man blinking and looking around like crazy. Then Sukuna saw that someone left their keys on the table so naturally, he took them and hid them on the floor under the table. Then of course, he went into the bathrooms and decided to shake the stall doors. Well populated places like this were his favorite outings, he could fuck with whatever he’d like, especially because Yuji couldn’t lecture him without looking like he’s insane.

Sukuna’s acts didn’t go unnoticed by you and as you watched him you realized that a lot of the shit you went through with Yuji was Sukuna’s fault! Oh yeah, when this alcohol induced confidence kicks in, you’re going for his ass.

Nobara noticed that you were downing a million drinks so she put her hand on your shoulder. “Hey, you tryna get dicked down tonight or did something happen?”

You nearly choked on your drink. “Listen, liiiisteeen.” You stretched the second word and slammed your drink down. “I am never letting a man even think about my vagina ever again!”

Nobara put her hands up. “Oh? Finally gave up, huh?”

You scoffed. “Gave up??? Nah, I learned that none of them are worth it! I’ve decided that the next man I fuck will have to eat it first, kiss it too! And also he needs to walk the walk as much as he talks. Each dick I’ve been near recently has just been god awful.” You couldn’t help but rant while she looked at you with wide eyes.

“Yeah, for real. It’s only right they get you to nut first!” She agreed, slamming back another. “There’s this guy they’ve been talking about you know. He’s a little bit older but not too much, but they say he eats like he’s starved.” She licked her lips and nudged you.

“I need proof!”

She pulled on your arm. “It’s rumors for sure, but he’s really fucking hot.” Pulling out her phone, she opened up Instagram and showed you his account.

“Oh my fuck—“ you gaped. “His hair!!! His eyes!!!!!” It’s true. He’s tall as fuck, has Snow White hair, bright blue eyes, and is built not as much as Sukuna, but built. Not to mention his cocky grin and how his sunglasses sit on the end of his nose. “But he’s one of those guys who knows they’re hot, those guys are red flags!”

She shushed you. “Listen, y/n, he’s totally your type. You’re more in his age range and he supposedly likes girls like you. You should DM him!”

You thought on it for a minute, you are a few years older than your friends and even if he’s a bit older, he’s got a good reputation. Scrolling through his account, he’s sexy as hell, has sexy friends, and frequents this same bar. She must’ve heard about him from the other girls here. “Who is the other guy here?”

Nobara tapped on the image and went to his account. “Oh yeah, he’s the darker type. Suguru and Satoru, funny.” She read their names and you looked at both of them. That’s one hell of a threesome idea.

“You like those kinds of men?” Sukuna’s voice boomed behind you.

You turned around fast but then remembered no one else can hear or see him, except Yuji. “Oh.” You turned back around and Nobara lifted a brow.

“What’s up?” She asked, peering behind her to see what you were looking at.

“It’s nothing.” You responded, now looking up the men on Instagram.

Sukuna spoke again. “They seem to be rather proud of themselves. From my experience, they break the hardest.”

You tried to not talk back, but the alcohol was definitely making your temper rise. Yuji was an expert at drowning out Sukuna at this point so he didn’t even notice your distress, not to mention the alcohol and his pretty boyfriend had his attention more than you. Sukuna, for once, hadn’t picked up on it either.

“Hey, I’ll be right back.”

Now Itadori was looking at you. “Are you okay?”

You nodded. “Yeah, just gotta get something really fast.”

Nobara grabbed your arm. “I’ll come with it’s not safe.”

You pushed away your hand. “It’s fine, I’ll be safe.” That’s true, you could just tell Sukuna to save you. You exited the bar and when you got to your car, you looked around to make sure no one was there and sure enough, Sukuna decided to follow you.

“Hm, did I irritate you?” He looked slightly amused.

You did not. “Yes! You won’t shut the fuck up!” You were pissed now, arms crossed and looking at him like he’s crazy.

“Oho? You do have some fire, huh?” He was grinning now, both pairs of arms crossed.

“You’ve been an ass to me since we’ve met and I’ve been beyond nice to you! It’s like all you want to do is piss me off, Yuji too! I literally just went through the most traumatizing experience of my fucking life and now you’re being an asshole to me! Watching me, making comments about the dudes I like, and being an absolute shithead!”

As you yelled at him, his face softened a bit. He let you rant at him before speaking up. “I’m impressed you’re willing to speak to me like this. You have more to you than I thought.”

Ouch, there he goes again. “What the fuck! I just told you about your shitty comments—“

“It was a compliment.” He interjected. “Personally, I love it when people don’t hold back.”

You didn’t know what to say. It’s like he was missing the entire point. “I shouldn’t have said anything.” You started to walk toward the bar, ready to drink some more.

“No, you should say more. Tell each person that’s hurt you to shut the fuck up. Like you did me.” He was grinning again and you stopped walking, looking toward the ground. “I’m being serious. I seriously don’t intend or have intended to hurt you, I just think you need to speak your mind more, raw emotion and boldness looks good on you.”

Spinning around to face him again, you could feel your throat tightening. He looked… genuine. “Were you trying to piss me off on purpose?”

Sukuna shook his head, pushing out his lower lip. “I’ve been told I push buttons, past and present. I must admit,” he laughed, “I love to tease.”

“So you were trying to piss me off?”

He laughed a bit harder. “No, no, I’ve been holding back. It’s not fun to kick someone when they’re down. I think I’m starting to find you more interesting, so I especially wouldn’t do that.”

He finds you interesting? What the hell does that mean? “So you thought I was boring, me?”

He cocked his head. “You and the brat are stupid so you’re entertaining, but watching you these past two days have made me realize something.”

You narrowed you eyes.

“You have a fire, it just needs a little push. Luckily, I’m quite the teacher.” One of his hands went to his chest as though he was crossing his heart. “Keep stoking that fire, brat, it’s quite entertaining.”

You didn’t know what to say, so you just went back inside. Everyone was confused but you decided to ignore it and drink up a little more. If one good thing came out of tonight, that was you forgetting all about the previous nights. Now, you can’t get Sukuna’s words out of your head. Hell, it’s the only thing you thought about, so you went and forgot to do your homework. And also forgot to eat dinner.

It was 1am when you all decided to leave and you were passed the fuck out so Yuji had to carry you and strap you into the passengers seat. Really, he shouldn’t be driving either, but he’s not stupid enough to give Sukuna the wheel even though he offered with a shit-eating grin on his face. Yeah, less worried about his driving skills and more due to the fact that it’d look like a ghost driving the two of you. Yuji went inside with you and tried to wake you up to shower and change, but you opted to remain sleeping. After your argument (one-sided), Sukuna couldn’t help but feel bad. He’s not one to be exceptionally emotional, but he’s been seriously trying to give you advice, he isn’t used to being around normal people, he used to those who grin and bear it for the sake of strength and power, not people who actually feel their emotions. He’s not one to have a soft spot, but something about you evokes emotions he once tried to fully repress for the sake of survival. He doesn’t get it. At all.

You don’t get it either.

Why exactly that night, for the first time since it had happened, why you didn’t have nightmares. And why, instead of dreaming about the two men on instagram, you dreamt of Sukuna lapping at your clit. And also why did you like it so much?

[dateless-bar]

If they smoke or not... (Modern AU)

Note: Please cherish life and refrain from smoking. The content mentioned in the text is purely fictional and the smoking behavior of characters in fan fiction is often a symbolic representation of their personalities, rather than a recommendation for anyone to imitate. Any tobacco referred to in this article is assumed to be legally compliant products in various countries/regions.

This fanfic is based on #project epd modern AU design.

Lion

His habit of smoking a pipe was developed in the military camp, and now he only smokes tobacco containing Latakia. He collects some discontinued Balkan tobaccos, which he takes out to enjoy on special occasions. He is particular about how the tobacco is packed and likes to wear gloves while doing it.

Counterintuitively, his tobacco consumption only increases when the novel progresses smoothly or when he is in a good mood.

Fulgrim

His design team often pairs slim or uniquely filtered cigarettes with rebellious visual styles, so he might occasionally try them himself. However, he doesn't like the mild and smooth flavors; instead, he prefers those with sweet and spicy notes.

It's said that he once collaborated with Ferrus on a movie special effect where he lit a cigarette with his fingers, which became widely popular on short video platforms.

Perturabo

He smokes single-brand cigarettes and cigars, and also collects intricately carved and lacquered lighters and cigarette cases. Although there is no clear evidence, employees at Iron Warriors Studio tend to believe that his smoking indicates a bad mood, so they remain particularly vigilant.

He has recently been trying to switch to vaping, but it seems he hasn't yet found a brand he fully likes.

Jaghatai Khan

One of his hobbies is smoking Chogoris cigarettes by the car when off-roading. He enjoys hand-rolling traditional cigarettes and has a strong preference for the natural flavors from his hometown. That said, he doesn't mind trying new products, but he generally doesn't think much of most common flavors on the market.

He also occasionally uses snuff.

Russ

He has tried smoking but doesn't really like it and doesn't understand what's special about this. He can smoke a bit with his buddies but doesn't have a long-term habit himself. Moreover, his pets all dislike the smell.

He prefers the scent of local herbs and spices, but if he had to name a real indulgence, it would definitely be drinking.

Dorn

He is a strict enforcer of no-smoking rules. Not only does he not smoke, but smoking is also prohibited in both the office and construction sites of Imperial Fist Co., including for contractors. Yes, it is that strict.

He will unhesitatingly point out or stop any such behavior and will clearly inform you that smoking is harmful to health.

Curze

He doesn't smoke and doesn't understand it at all. Not every character from urban legends has every bad habit. He likes eating sweet things.

If you smoke, sometimes he will suddenly reach out and knock the glowing cigarette out of your hand.

Sanguinius

He knows how to smoke but rarely does so. Horus taught him how to smoke cigars, but he mostly just tried a puff or two while Horus was smoking. In such cases, he doesn't send his clothes to dry cleaning but waits for the smell to dissipate before wearing them again.

Ferrus

He used to vape occasionally, but it was never a particular hobby, and he suddenly quit after a period of not using it. His favorite mechanical hand doesn't work well with most vaping devices, and developing a module just for this purpose seems a bit excessive.

Angron

He doesn't smoke and dislikes people who do. The smell of smoke makes him feel irritable and even want to hit someone. For your own safety, absolutely do not smoke in front of him.

Guilliman

He doesn't smoke and actively promotes smoking bans in public places as a way to reduce the burden on the healthcare system, an initiative he proposed himself.

When he lived with Lion, who smoked pipes almost exclusively in the study and backyard, surprisingly they never argued about this matter. Now, he can even distinguish which type of tobacco Lion smoked each day just by the scent.

Mortarion

He smokes heavily and constantly. His cigarette case and smoking apparatus are filled with Barbarus tobacco, and his entire body seems permeated with its scent. He may pause only when in the laboratory, but otherwise, he is almost always smoking.

If his cigarettes run out, he becomes engulfed in an inexplicable emotional state.

Magnus

He doesn't smoke and doesn't have any particular feelings about it. However, if you were to smoke in his study or game room, he would explode on the spot. Perturabo respects his wishes and has never done so.

He has tried hookah before and seems to have a higher opinion of it. He has hookah equipment at home but doesn't use it often. He prefers aromatherapy instead.

Horus

He smokes blended tobacco and cigars, especially during periods of rapid gang expansion, using this action to create a strong impression, ultimately as strategic image management. He collects some cigarette cases and cigar cutters used by his father.

He has a habit of taking off his ring when smoking.

Lorgar

Surprisingly, he occasionally smokes, although most of the time he does not.

When he does smoke, it's usually just casual smoking of regular cigarettes in private. During his regular work, he still advises believers to prioritize their health, but within the church, smoking and exposure to secondhand smoke are strictly prohibited.

He is very cautious about removing the smell of smoke from his clothes, using church incense to cover it up.

Vulkan

He has smoked before but didn't particularly enjoy it, and he doesn't recommend others to do so either. Occasionally, he even advises Malcador to reduce his collection in this regard. He has tinkered with interesting multi-functional lighters and such gadgets, but he doesn't think they should be used for smoking.

Corax

He occasionally smokes an old-fashioned long cigarette, but not very frequently. Due to his work, his image doesn't seem particularly out of place even if he smokes, but he prefers coffee if he needs a pick-me-up.

He has an album cover where he is depicted smoking in Soho’s night view, but later due to distribution reasons, it was changed to a lollipop in some regions.

Alpharius

You'd better not know.

[dollsahoy]

Hi, so I saw your addition to the "things I wish I knew about sewing" post about interfacing, and was wondering how that applies to smaller scale clothes? Not just 1/16th (even though that's the scale most of what I have are), but like, in general.

I generally do skip interfacing doll clothes. Sometimes I will add some fusible webbing to the upper piece of a collar...sometimes.

But I do use facings on 1:6 necklines made from woven fabric all the time, because it is so much easier, to me, to sew on that extra piece, clip the seam allowances, then turn it to the inside out and flatten with my fingers.

I usually make my facing piece large enough to reach the arm holes, which allows me to also finish the arm holes with that facing piece as well if there are no sleeves, or catch the edges of the facing in the sleeve seams to hold it in place.

...and, honestly, if the bodice of a doll dress is short enough, that facing is almost a lining. I think a lot of people line doll clothes to get the same effect as using facings. (Facings are generally made from the same fabric as the outside of the garment, while lining is generally a different fabric)

Sorry if you were specifically asking about interfacing and not facings--this answer is mostly for people who are still learning the difference between facings (pieces of fabric sewn to an edge, right sides together, then turned to the inside) and interfacing (reinforcing layer added to the inner side of fabric, usually on a facing)

I am so confident that facings are the easiest way to finish a neckline in a garment made from woven fabric that I included a facing in this doll shirt pattern I made and shared a few years ago

The kind of facing that extends to the arm holes is in this pattern

(I keep specifying garments made from woven fabric because the easiest way to finish the edge of a knit fabric garment is to sew a folded piece of knit, slightly stretched, to that edge. I suspect some people new to sewing will find it counterintuitive that it really is easier, in some situations, to finish an edge by cutting and sewing on an entire other piece of fabric...)

And if none of this answers your question, let me know that I got carried away on something else!

[jelloholic]

Québec Miku

My very rushed addition to the international Miku trend

(Québec is a French speaking province in Canada with it's own unique culture, for those who weren't aware)

Cultural references in the doodle:

The food she's holding: Poutine, a cultural dish that includes fries, cheese curds (aka squeaky cheese, can be kinda substituted with halumi if there's no other choice), gravy (aka sauce brune/brown sauce)

The zipper 'keychain': The entry ticket to the yearly Carnaval de Québec set in winter in Québec city. You buy an effigy of the mascot called 'Bonhomme Carnaval', which can be attached to your coat zipper to be granted access to the festivities. The design changes every year

The belt/scarf: Called a 'ceinture fléchée', it's been historically worn by men for centuries for both aesthetics and practicality. Now, it's considered a unisex article of clothing worn during traditional celebrations to show patriotic pride

The background: A blurred picture of the Chateau Frontenac, an iconic landmark of the province. The name is misleading as it's never been a castle, only designed to look like one from the outside. It's been a hotel since its opening in 1893

The clothing in general: Winters are harsh, so warm garments are necessary. The hat, usually called a beanie, is referred to as a tuque across Canada in both the English and French languages. The ripped jeans seem counterintuitive, but we are usually too lazy and prideful to either put on snow pants or find warmer pants. The hair is braided so the wind doesn't blow it everywhere and to stop too much snow and ice from catching in it

[sigynpenniman]

Thoughts from the night: one way in which i think social expectations of women have actually gotten much worse over the past 100 or so years, somewhat counterintuitively, is in the social understanding of how much artifice is required to achieve the socially desirable appearance. Not to suggest that people pretend women don’t wear makeup - for one thing we all know that people wear makeup, and for another “who me? No im not wearing makeup 💗” is a tale as old as makeup. What i DO mean is that there is a marked social shift from the expectation that you will use artificial means to fit the socially desired appearance to the expectation that you will pop out of the womb fitting the socially desired appearance. We look at things like Victorian corsets and rococo silhouettes and feel horrified, but the thing is, those clothes differ from ours in one very specific and every important way: when those clothes were made, it was UNDERSTOOD that you were going to use heavily structured undergarments to achieve whatever weird 3D shape was currently en vogue. Now, those shapes were far more extreme than our current beauty standards (and therefore not even theoretically attainable without the undergarments) but the rule stands. It was understood that EVERYONE was using artificial means to get to whatever look was desired or that they wanted. Even as recently as the 50s and 60s, girdles, bullet bras, hair sets, heavy makeup, etc were standard and expected if you were going for the Popular Look. The rise of general naturalism with regard to appearance (especially with body shape) may have freed everyone of the trappings of corsets and hoop skirts but it created a much more upsetting problem, which is that now advertising tells us - and we all believe - that we should be able to just will our bodies into whatever shape happens to be the popular vogue. TikTok is making even small facial features into trends. Ignoring, for the sake of this conversation, the perma-problematic nature of making things like facial features and body shapes into “trends,” if you showed all this to a Victorian woman, she would laugh her head off - if we as a society are going to do something as insane (as we have for hundreds of years) as creating a trendy body silhouette, the last 500 years of our ancestors understood that MUST come part and parcel with the availability & fully accepted of artificial means to achieve it. The idea that we all have now that we should all be trying to change our natural bodies every 3 years to align with whatever’s Hot Now to a Victorian lady would be laughable.

[darbyoakana]

An Overlord's Tail - Chapter 9

An Overlords Tail Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10

Summary: Alastor X reader, F/M. Alastor takes care of you but loses control

Warnings: Violent sex, monster fucking

Other Notes: none

Darby Link Tree

____________________________________________

Chapter 9: Unconditionally yours

Alastor laid you down on your bed, sitting next to you. Angel was waiting anxiously for your return, passing around your room. 

“Oh sweetheart, are you okay?” Angel looked you over. “Shit. Oh shiiit. Vox did this??”

“Val… “ you winced.

“Yeah, that tracks. Bastard,” Angel spat. “What did he give yah?” 

“Periwinkle.. I think..” you groaned. 

The aphrodisiac was starting to kick in. You were too warm. You were trying to keep a steady breath but failing. Just the touch of your clothing on your skin was too much.

“Ugh fucking Val.”

“Explain. Now,” demanded Alastor.

“Ehhh, well, Val got into making this pheromone shit that makes you like, SUPAH HORNY, right? Well after prolonged use it causes some nasty dry spells. Which, as yah can imagine, is counterintuitive when making porn. So he started mixing it with some other drugs. Periwinkle is the current mix he’s been using. It’s got a nice high at the beginning. Yah know, before you start dry-humping everything in sight,” Angel sighed. “There's uh, nothin’ you can do. Just gotta ride it out. I’m happy to help get the job done but uh, the female form isn’t particularly my forte. I got some toys if you want those.”

“That won’t be necessary,” Alastor hissed. “You may go now.”

“Hey- just trying to help here,” Angel said, throwing his arms up. “Look, I’ll leave you two to it, text me if yah need anything. Let me know how you are in the morning, yeah?”

“Thank you Angel,” you said as you winced. 

Alastor gently touched your face, and you gasped. Nuzzling into his palm you lightly bit his thumb, absorbing the sensation of his skin touching yours. Your other hand clawed at his leg. Small whines and sighs escaped your mouth, your whole body felt tense. Desperation was setting in. Alastor leaned over and kissed you on the forehead, you grabbed the back of his neck and pulled him to your lips. You moaned as you aggressively assaulted his mouth. Reciprocating, his tongue found yours. You burned with desire, wanting to consume him. He held your face with both hands to pry your mouth from his. You tried to speak but it came out in airy breaths.

“If you don’t… feel comfortable. I won’t be upset. I wanted to let you.. take things as slow as you need,” you tensed as a chill ran up your back. “But if ..that is the case, I.. I’ll need you to leave. I’m going to get very pathetic. Really soon.” 

It wasn’t an ideal situation, not in any way what either of you had in mind. But he had run from you once and couldn’t do it again. Making the best of the situation was the most either of you could do. 

“I won’t be abandoning you, my dear,” he ran a hand through your hair. “I am, however, still uncertain of my ability to be gentle.” 

“I don’t want you to be.” 

A sharp static crackle filled the room. His hand grabbed a fist full of your hair, his other hand that was on your cheek aggressively wrapped around your throat. He shifted, now straddling you. You whined as he yanked you up, arching your back uncomfortably, towards him. His lips grazed your ear as his neck snapped. 

“How could I, when you say things like that, darling,” he growled with a thick radio filter. 

“Please….” you gasped. Your hips were writhing underneath him, hands pawing at him. “Please Alastor, fuck me…” 

“Mmm. There's that delicious begging again,” you could feel his breath on your neck. “I’ll never tire of it, for that I am certain.” 

He teased, nibbling your ear. He laid you back down, his body following. You were helpless between him and the bed. You wheezed, his grip on your throat increasing. Nibbles turning into stinging cuts, his teeth dragging along your skin, leaving thin red dripping lines. His tongue followed, savoring the taste of your blood. Your whole body felt like it was on fire, burning with need as if any moment you’d combust. His mouth traveled down to your jawline, meeting yours forcefully. Submitting, his tongue dominated yours. Your hands ran down his sides, his jacket was suddenly gone. He released your neck and mouth. With his claws and teeth, he shredded your top, and pieces of fabric landed all around you, exposing your chest. He softly ran his thumbs over your sensitive nipples as he cupped your ample breasts in each hand. 

“Please…” you cried, “Alastor please...” You were breathing hard, the need was becoming painful. “F..fuu.ckk.. please.” 

He slipped his knee between your thighs, then the other, pushing your legs open. Your skirt rolled up, revealing your soaked underwear. Your whines and moans were intoxicating, Alastor could feel himself pushing against the fly of his slacks. He wanted to know how loudly you’d scream when he thrust into you. Unfortunately for you, Alastor was a patient man. He pinched your nipples, you cried out as your hips bucked. 

“Ughhggn..” you pouted. “You are cruel.” 

“Now now pet,” he scolded, pinching again. “Of course I am. Did you forget who you were dealing with?” 

“Pleaaaasee Alastor!” you sobbed. “Please fuck me, I’ll do anything. I want you in me.” 

“Anything..?” he smirked.

“Ugh!” you banged on his chest with your fists. “Don’t you dare try to weasel a deal into this!” 

He laughed, truly amused. Grabbing both of your wrists and pinning them above your head, he used one hand to hold them in place.

“Darling, I don’t need a deal to know that you're mine,” he growled. “But I would like to hear it from your lips.” 

You thrashed under him, frustrated. Using a single claw he sliced the crotch of your underwear, the fabric peeling from your wet lips. The air felt cold in comparison to the heat coming off you.

“Say it,” he whispered softly in your ear. You heard the unzipping of his pants. He glided the tip of his throbbing cock between your wet folds. “Say you're mine and I’ll fuck you senseless.”

You were grateful that's all he wanted, you were certain you would have handed over your soul had he asked. There was no fight in you left. You wanted him to wreck you and would give anything for it.

“Alastor… uhhnng… please.” 

“I’m waiting…” His tip circled your swollen clit, his breath on your neck. “Say what we both know.”

 “Yes. I’m yours,” you sobbed. ���Unconditionally yours.” 

“That's my girl,” he praised as he placed a soft kiss on your cheek.

You were glad that your room was soundproof because the echoes of the ungodly wails and moans coming from you would have permeated the halls of the hotel. The drugs had made everything so sensitive that you came immediately upon insertion. Alastor thrust into you at a savoring pace, he breathed heavily as you gripped him tightly as he entered you, inch by inch. He wrapped his free arm around your waist, pushing you down onto him, the base meeting your pelvis. You shuddered as you came. 

“Mmm, my dear, if you are so easily spent I am afraid you are in for an exhausting night.” 

He thrust into you again, devouring your cries. Since he had first laid eyes on the tears running down your face, he craved them to be for him. That you would never cry for any other being in existence, none of them deserved it. But now, not only did he get your tears, but the plentiful bouquet of sounds coming from you now. They were for him and him alone. He coveted the changes in your expressions, pain or pleasure, and they were all his. They would sustain him for an eternity. 

Never in his life, or death, had Alastor felt blessed by higher powers. Why would God ever favor someone like him? But you, you made him question that entirely. He found it a bit poetic. Born and died several generations apart, so many factors that could have altered the outcome entirely. Yet here you were, crying out from under him. Begging for him as if your life depended on it. How were Heaven’s standards so incredibly high that you weren’t sent there instead? They’d clearly made a mistake. One he’d never let them rectify. You were his, he’d die a second death than give you up. 

You had lost track of how many times you had orgasmed. Had it been days or only minutes? The bed felt wet under you. The slapping and squelching sounds confirmed what you already knew. Your eyes rolled up into your head as Alastor bottomed out, over and over. You spewed incoherent babbling, a mix of begs and pleas. Alastor was pleased that you still managed to moan his name as he fucked you stupid. Your warm tight walls gripped his cock with desperation. But his control was waning. His antlers scraped the headboard above you. He let go of your hands, placing his arms on either side of your head. He nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck, feeling the vibrations of your cries in your throat. 

He fought the change as his neck made a snapping sound. Long claws punctured the pillows under you. You could feel the girth moving in and out of you started to expand, now a burning ache. His large hands wrapped around your torso, holding you up off the bed as he pummeled his monstrous member into you. You cried out, mostly in pain, but it didn’t stop you from cumming again. His sharp claws punctured your skin. Drops of blood thudding against the sheets went unheard under the radio static and snarls. His eyes flickered dials. How much Alastor was left at this point you wondered as the beast used you as a cock sleeve. The bed creaked as wood snapped, the bedframe couldn’t take the weight and motion. The static became louder and louder before screeching to a halt. His seed had no room inside you, not with how tightly you were stretched around his girth. Cum gushed down your legs, pooling under you. Before you were discarded onto the bed along with it. Alastor’s colossus form collapsed next to you, unconscious and slowly returning to normal size.

His eyes snapped open in a panic. He panted as he ran his fingers through his hair, glancing down at his now-softening erection. The ejaculate felt sticky and gross. The blood mixed with it however concerned him. He covered his face with his hand and took several deep breaths, avoiding looking over at you.  Were you in one piece? He let out a sharp exhale and rolled to his side. 

Normally a brutal murder scene would have delighted him. Instead, the unfamiliar feeling of shame and guilt washed over him. The bed around him was covered in claw marks, smears of blood and cum. The headboard was cracked in half, covered in antler scrapes. Several pillows were gutted on the floor. The lamp was on its side, flickering. The large stain of blood under you, soaked into the mattress at this point, displeased him. He outlined the edges of your face with his fingers, wiping the blood from your lips. He pulled your body into his. Your back was covered in claw punctures and smears of blood. Bruises lined your torso where several ribs were broken. You felt cold in comparison to how hot you were running earlier. Alastor put the blankets over the both of you. He had damaged you greatly, but you were whole, he could feel your shallow breath. Your eyes fluttered open. You buried your face into his chest, letting out a small satisfied hum, before passing out again. He tried to blink away the burning sting in his eyes. The lump in his throat felt like ash unable to be washed down.

Alastor held you like this for several hours, mentally processing the events that had occurred. Not exactly what he was picturing his first time with you would be. Anger swept over him. 

Valentino was going to suffer.

[danses-with-dogmeat]

Day 20 -- Pickman

The (nsfw) details for Kinktober 2023, Day 20 are just below the cut!

Minors, please don’t interact.

Body Modification with Pickman x g/n!Sole

Ohhhhh, Pickman. What a strange, intriguing character. His dialogue makes for very fun writing, though. Definitely a killer aesthetic to go with the homicidal tendencies, lol.

Anyways, I hope you all enjoy!

Here is the link to my  Kinktober 2023 Event List so you can stay up-to-date, or re-visit these works as you please.

Included: Body Modification, knifeplay, non-explicit gore, blood, cutting, marking, masochism, painplay, scarring, all very consensual, just kinky, restraints, dirty talk? kind of? (mostly very flowery), oral sex, cum eating.

Words: 1.9k

--

“This one, I’m liking, darling. How much bigger were you thinking?” 

He spoke to them softly, in that painfully honeyed tone of his– the one where you could practically hear the smile on his face, whether or not he actually wore one.

Pickman wasn’t now.

He rarely smiled in the midst of his work; no, he was concentrating. Especially when it came to the canvas of his beloved. The myriad of scars upon them was faultless, due to the level of focus he always maintained throughout their carving. Despite his unwavering attention, those certainly furrowed brows he looked upon them with, Sole knew the way that this undertaking of his, it… excited him. The unmistakable bulge forming in the front of his worn, beige dress slacks told that tale of yearning. Loudly and with urgency.

Their gaze remained at his waist, as Pickman’s knife moved in small, careful increments over their collarbone and down to the left side of their chest. Sole was restrained. Their wrists, chest and forehead all held down against the firm table beneath them– it made it less likely for them to flinch away and perhaps ruin the intricate scrawl of their partner's blade over their once-smooth flesh. 

And it was more thrilling this way. 

Sole’s heart pounded in their chest, they felt sweat lingering on the surface, felt a heat of their own pooling low in their belly, with each spike of pain, it made their eyes roll back and their breath come out in increasingly fevered pants. 

They didn’t even need to hear Pickman’s smile, to know the way he wore one now, as he pulled the knife away to admire his work. 

He delighted in their delight. Relished their love of the pain he gifts them, and the art he makes of them.

“We were made for each other, you know.” He put their thoughts to words, almost as if he could hear into their mind. 

“And this… This is a reflection of that.” 

Their names, penned together with the keen blade and combined in an ornate, calligraphic inscription barely legible, but to the artist himself… It was a masterpiece. 

“In all my art pieces, we have never seen the like of this. None compare.” 

He etched another line, and Sole’s breath came out a whimper. 

“Shh, shh, my love. Nearly there. Don’t worry.” 

A sweet kiss planted on their forehead, and Sole leaned into it. 

“M’not.” They managed, despite the delectably overwhelming pain. 

“Hmm?” 

“Not worried. Take as long as you need.” 

They wished they could reach out and touch him, then. Reassure him that this was undoubtedly what they wanted, but that would be counterintuitive. They didn’t want to ruin his work by moving. 

Pickman pulled the knife away, grabbed the soft, thin rag off the table beside him, and wiped clean the blade, before dabbing the cloth on their skin, absorbing the excess scarlet so he could see what lay beneath.

“My, it’s… breathtaking, my dear.” 

“I’m sure it is.” They said with a small grin, “You are a fine artist, my love.” 

He hmm-ed happily at that, before they felt the cold metal against their hot skin again. 

He made a few more carvings, the sting of which shot up their whole arm, protesting within the survival portion of their brain, urging them to shy away, to stop the wounding in its tracks, but Sole closed their eyes and ignored it. Their mind went foggy, the pain all that they could focus on, and the last thing they could focus on, all at once.

A particularly deep cut made them shudder unwittingly, releasing a moan at the same such time. Between their legs, they felt a distinct reaction, and Pickman let loose another knowing hum. 

“Shall we take a break, then? Don’t want to… overwhelm you, dearest.” 

“Do we have to?” They croaked, and Pickman chuckled in response, letting the flat of his blade tap down their bare body in increments, before it clattered onto the steel table just out of their peripheral vision. 

“No, we don’t have to. But oh… it should be fun. I guarantee you’ll enjoy it.” 

Another kiss had Sole opening their eyes, straining to look down at his shining hair as Pickman set his lips over their neck, down their collarbone, and achingly close to the open wounds on their chest. 

“Would you like to stay tied?” He whispered between presses of his mouth over them. 

“Let me touch you.” Sole pleaded, adrenaline still coursing through them from the stinging in their chest, from that building heat within. 

“As you wish.” He kissed them square in the middle of his newest art piece, and Sole’s shoulder tensed. 

He licked his reddened lips as he pulled away.

Pickman then moved out of their sights, and soon the rope over one wrist was being cut. It snapped, and the pressure released. Pickman moved to the other as Sole twisted their wrist, flexed their fingers, feeling the blood return to their hand. 

He always secured them just a tinge too tight, knowing how that pain acted as an appetizer for what was to come. 

Another snap of rope released the pressure over their collarbones, which had been effectively holding their chest in place, and Sole looked down to see marks there too. Just the reddened rashes and imprints of the rope, but now with their forehead being set free of its bounds against the hard table, they let their head raise up to admire those, as well as the new scar-work over their heart.

“Beautiful.” They agreed, and saw the way their partner grinned, the appreciation for them shining honestly in their stark, grey depths.  

“Ah, like you.” He pulled a hand to his lips then, pressing another kiss there as he released the last of their bounds. “A masterpiece to match a masterpiece.” 

A blush heated their skin, and Sole looked away shyly, like Pickman didn’t spoil them with his poetic dictation on a daily basis. 

“Now, you wanted to–”

“Touch you.” Sole said easily, quick enough to interrupt as they shifted upwards and slid off the end of the table. 

Dark air surrounded them both outside the ring that illuminated Pickman’s work area. Crimson brick walls looked in from every side, and without preference, Sole chose one to push their partner into. 

Pickman yielded to their touch instantly, until his back rested against the bricks, and Sole had both arms wrapped firmly about his shoulders. His kisses were magnetic, as they pressed forward into him; they felt they could never pull away, not without another catalyst to force their lips away. His skin was soft, his lips no exception, and Sole– as they often did– asked themself how, in a world such as this, Pickman managed to keep himself so tidy. 

His hair was slicked just a certain way, that when they combed their fingers over it, it remained in place. He smelled of aftershave and starch powder, and tasted like spearmint toothpaste. 

It brought Sole back. 

How they’ve changed since then, they thought, as their hands explored him, as their fingers brushed over their own marked, scarred forearms– forever changed, by the man pressed against them. 

“My love,” Pickman mumbled into their mouth, before gently pushing them away. “I’m meant to console you. Remember?” 

Sole looked away again, like a dog being reprimanded for going after a food scrap they know they’re not meant to have. 

He tutted at them, drawing their gaze back to his. 

“Here, let us switch, dearest.” 

They did as he asked, moving like dancers as he grasped their hands and twirled them about until their back was resting against the cold brick. A shiver ran through them, but soon enough, Pickman became a distraction from that as well. 

He ran his hands, ripe with scars of their own, up and down their form, like he was trying to smooth out wrinkles. His touch was firm, but light enough not to ruffle.

One hand smoothed right down to their center on its journey, palming over their heat, feeling their pleasure, so evident against his touch. 

“Darling, you are perfection.” He kissed their lips again, savoring the sighs they released at his undulating contact over them. “To have my work displayed on you… it’s the greatest honor I can fathom.” 

All his words were heady whispers against them, as his hand increased its movement, as the other drew lines with his fingers over the path of raised scars he was responsible for. 

“The most perfect gallery.” 

Any words they wished to speak in return paled in comparison. Pickman’s natural pomp, his archaic charm had them swooning and leaning into his every touch, his every word. The feel of his hand over them, over the most sensitive of spots, just firm enough to thread the needle between intense and overwhelming. 

“I hope you can forgive my absence, here.” He said, a despondent look in his eyes, and Sole blinked as a question in their mind made their brows furrow together. “I’m needed elsewhere.”

With that and a distinct clench of Pickman's hand between their legs, his lips were descending their body. He paused only once, to press a handful of kisses over their newest linework, and then he was on his knees before them, lifting one thigh up to rest on his suit’s shoulder pad. 

Sole’s hands dove down to his hair, to the back of his neck, writhing their fingers over the skin there, until they could all but feel the goosebumps their touch, their gasps of pleasure, inspired upon him. The contact only seemed to encourage the artist, as he mouthed fervently over their heat, as though this were the only sustenance that could sate him. 

His noises became more carnal the further he buried himself between their legs, the more slick skin rubbing together, moans catching in his throat, breaths rattling in his chest as he opted to breathe them rather than the air. 

Sole’s fingers clung to him, nails digging into his skin as the back of their head dug into the brick wall behind them. Their muscles tensed, sweat stung their open wounds, and a moan escaped their straining throat as their partner relished in their pleasure, tasting all they had to offer him, and pleading for more with every lave of his tongue, every hollow of his pronounced cheeks. 

“Seems you needed this break just as I did.” Sole chuckled, and Pickman hummed out his agreement. 

“More so, even.” He pulled away to answer in a flash, before his lips were firmly back upon them. 

He tilted his head this way and that, dove forward and then released the pressure in rapid movements that gave Sole no time at all to recover. Their pleasure could only build as his teeth entered the equation, nipping over those sensitive places between their legs, scraping over the skin there until jolts of pain-infused bliss ran up through their veins. 

Pickman gave an answering moan as their hands clenched him all the tighter, as their leg tensed from its place on his shoulder and their hips thrust their heat against his mouth with each passing second. 

He carried on though, always one to see his work through to the end, Pickman ran a hand over them as his lips refused to relent, as he nearly bit into his tongue in the euphoric turmoil of their combined actions. 

Then, Sole was crying out their release, bursting onto his asking tongue as he pressed further into them, crazed and wanting for all they could give. 

It’s what he craved most about them. The way they gave themself over to him, his work, his craft. Let him mark them in every way possible, both physically and mentally, and let him love them in every way Pickman wished to display it. 

He was right, they both decided in tandem. 

They really were made for each other. 

[phoenixfire-thewizardgoddess]

So, fun little fact of having everything destroyed by fire in a rental, by an appliance that you didn't use but was hardwired into the place by the owner of the place... it doesn't matter it wasn't your fault.

Just got told I now have to get everything out of the place as soon as possible to allow the owner to start fixing the place up again

For one, the place is fucking decimated (just like my life because it destroyed 90% of my things and, oh yes, murdered my beloved kitten who was my little duckling, my shadow, my daughter)

so how exactly is anyone going to fix it up given the windows blew out, the roof is annihilated (fire went straight up and across so fast it melted the smoke alarms off before they turned on), and the floor in at least one room is destroyed

the HEAT of it all, actually destroyed things deep inside wardrobes and thick chests of drawers, the structural integrity of the place feels akin to a prawn cracker. clothes in those items of furniture were annihilated.

I am truly grateful kitten passed in her sleep to smoke inhalation and wasn't burned, because the sheer scale of decimation around her was pretty severe but she shouldn't have been in that position at all

still trying to get hold of the damn report on the fire by the investigators, because the cause is clear but what triggered it isn't.

also found my cameras (security) in the kitchen had been turned to face nothing for at least a week prior. that's super weird because it was motion activated and tilted itself in the direction of motion, very confused about this... I didn't notice because the app notifications weren't pinging as motion triggered. ??????? It melted, but I have some stuff on the app, super confused about that whole thing.

turns out contents insurance would have allowed for specialist removalists to gut the place, but (surprise) couldn't get that given that there were no deadbolts on the place.

just being in there with masks on, and a respirator borrowed from family, after the fire was enough to have you hacking and eyes streaming. I am honestly concerned about safety of moving things without like full body coverage

whoever I can get to do it won't be cheap

also, rural area... so, that also absolutely is going to limit who and how much.

not that I am not exceptionally grateful in the generosity shown by people in my life. my workplace found and contracted a new unit , everyone brought furniture or items, or bought me kitchenware. I was able to live with family while everything was devastating, and they are continued support. I had a small bit of clothes and a metric fuckload of books at another family household, so it wasn't everything everything and I had help to arrange baby's cremation, return to work, etc.

i am better off than many, many others in this situation.

but it feels like it's now Over, and Dealt with. But I'm still angry that it happened, and I miss my little girl. Work is kind of being difficult at the moment because there were things that went by the wayside when I had to work remotely from another office, which is coming back to bite me.

Sometimes you just don't sleep because there's a lot going on in your head... and you're a bit late, and even if you are there hours after close of business to finish things in order to manage expectations, it doesn't count. you can't be late. they do little meetings about it threatening support plans or to sign you over to the mental health team, which is a great support for those who need it but I find them meddlesome and they treat people like they're made of glass. which is counterintuitive to getting people back on equal footing if you feel me.

There's so many shitty little things, and you feel ungrateful, because again... who else has this level of support and grace provided after a tragedy? Who has family just pay for things upfrnt with a 'pay it back overtime when you can, without killing yourself' response to trying to make a payment plan with them

who has a mattress and chairs and a little tv and a table and chairs provided, who had an entire office check their houses and sheds for furniture you could have? who else had people begging to know what you needed and bringing sheets and towels and bowls, cups, cutlery to make sure your new house wasn't empty? they even gave me a gift card from a whip round for those who didn't know how to help but wanted to give money to allow me to get what i needed when things weren't a nightmare

like, the generosity and aussie care has been amazing.

but im still sad, and angry and frustrated about all the other little things.because this still did happen, and my little girl is gone, and there are no answers or accountability for it at all.

and every time you think you can move forwards, some new issue or task arises. people mean well when they ask if you will get a new cat, if you are speaking to a professional... but sometimes that misses the mark in a way they didn't mean with their well-intentions.

Zarya will never be replaced, and she should never be. Talking to someone won't fix the fact that unfortunately life and being an adult means that you have to keep moving forwards even when you are tired and angry and frustrated, because bad things do happen all throughout your existence. its a sucktacular part of life.

and then you think, people are having a much worse time all over the world right this second. you have a house, you are inside in the cold, no one is mistreating you, you aren't living in fear that the next silence or whistling means death from above... people are having horrific times, and this is sad and awful but nowhere on that scale.

it's easy to get in your head about this stuff, but that's the worst thing you can do. we can't change the past, no matter how much you'd love five minutes with the TARDIS, we can only go forwards... and part of that is finding a new normal no matter how much it sucks that you didn't choose to forgo the previous status quo

have i listened to hazbon hotel's soundtrack so often i can sing the songs off by heart (also helluva boss) as a coping mechanism? sure. do i have so many half done craft items around it's almost disguting because hands and brain need to be Busy? also sure. am i also grumblingly doing work and household chores and bitching to family about mundane shit and visiting friends and their furbabies on occasion? also yeah.

Its so easy to lay down and just feel grief and nothingness. There is also nothing wrong with that, you get fucked up thoughts like 'Kitten chose me as her mum and i fucking killed her by trusting that unit was safe', and you can't let that get a hold of your brain or you just dissolve. There was no way to even consider this would happen, r that she would be less safe that day than any other day she'd lived there, etc.

Keeping moving is the key, not like running or anything. Meander along with life, until it feels like you can breathe... and when shitty little reminders like the one i was initially ranting about come up, there's no shame in some angry mental pacing and blustering as the emtions surge back through, as raw as the day it happened. You will keep going aggain soon, but its not a race.

Life sucks sometimes, and it's not okay... but that's okay.

[somethingclevermahogony]

Happy STS! Are there any interesting coming-of-age ceremonies in your setting?

Thank you for the question! This is a day late but oh well.

There are many different coming-of-age ceremonies and traditions throughout the many cultures of Kobani. For the purposes of this post I will focus on one, the Kishite Naming Ceremony. This is by far the most complex ceremony that a Kishite is likely to go through. This is a ceremony that Ninma went through.

The Kishite Naming Ceremony: "Sumninissu" (Suma-Name, Nin- Diminutive "lil", Issu - Festival/Celebration) aka The Ceremony of the 3 Bowls

Origins and Reasons:

Traditionally Kishite children are not called by or referred to with their proper names until they reach the age of four. This practice has been largely abandoned outside of noble bloodlines however.

The exact origins of this practice are not entirely clear. It is not found in Shabala or Ikopesh which suggests that the practice developed after the arrival of Tamel and his followers, Shabalic refugees, and the foundation of Kishetal. It is likely that the practice developed in the first century or two of Kishetal's history under the reign of Tamel. During this time the average infant/child mortality before the age of 4 in Kishetal was even higher than it is currently (56% vs. 42%).

For those that follow this practice children and infants are referred to as "kip" the Kishite word for seed or grain. This does not necessarily mean that a family does not have a name picked out for the child, only that it is not utilized. Children of this age are also never portrayed in art in literal terms. Rather infants and young children may instead be represented in artwork as loaves of grain or bundles of barley wrapped in swaddling clothes. In addition to this children are considered to be genderless before the age of 4, and are referred to and treated as such, thus why "kip" is a gender neutral term.

There are two primary lines of reason behind this practice:

It is believed that children are particularly vulnerable to the workings of evil spirits, which can be seen most clearly through disease. By calling a child by a proper name it is believed that attention is brought to that child, thus endangering them during the dangerous period of infancy. For this same reason, superstition dictates that beds/cribs of children under the age of four be kept in the proximity of bread, beer, or even unprocessed grain/sesame, as a way of confusing malicious spirits.

Kishites and Kishite religion are aware of the process of reincarnation. It is believed that the soul or "het" is reborn multiple times through multiple worlds, with the eventual goal of ascension, at which point the memories and experiences of all previous lives will be consolidated to a single being. It is believed that in order for a soul to be deemed worthy of moving on to the next world it must be named. If a soul is unable to continue to another world it will instead be reincarnated once more on Kobani. Though it may seem counterintuitive, Kishites don't actually want the souls of their infants to continue to the next world as they believe that if a soul does continue on to the next world with only the memories of an infant in this world, its ultimate form will be in some way stunted or incomplete.

The Ceremony (This particular example is the variant used by the Labisa royal family, aka Ninma's ceremony)

The Naming Ceremony starts the day before a child's fourth birthday at the first breaking of the sun and concludes at the rising of the sun on the day of the child's fourth birthday. The whole ceremony is divided into 7 parts each with their own symbolic significance.

The Child is roused, typically by their grandparents, or else their oldest surviving relative (not the parents). The child is dressed in expensive clothing and jewelry, their hair will be combed and perfumed, and their skin may be decorated with henna. This whole process may take hours depending on the level of complexity applied. In the case of Ninma this particular aspect was carried out by her eldest sister and a number of servants and took a total of 2 hours. Ninma's face and hands were colored and she was dressed in a white silk robe.

After being dressed the child is brought before their older siblings, if they have them (younger siblings are not included in the ceremony.) The older siblings are charged with serving their younger sibling their first taste of unwatered beer. Beer is typically served in small but intricate ceramic bowls, smaller than a person's palm. The child drinks the beer and upon finishing, is instructed to smash the bowl upon the ground. The consumption of beer represents a symbolic passing into the world of civilization and humanity. Each sibling must then personally welcome the child into the family with a cry of "Chifun amakani! Ti kip huparut shaga!" This translates to "See gods (gods see)! The seed is sprouted (the seed sprouted is!)". For Ninma with 34 siblings this was quite a lengthy process. The siblings will then have a simple meal, heavily featuring bread and dried fruits, no meat or seafood is consumed. The child in question sits in a place of honor. After this the child will be referred to as "hu" which means "stalk" as in grain.

The child is led by their siblings out from the room where they drank the beer to typically to a space outside (The Palatial olive grove for Ninma) or else made to resemble the outside. There they will be greeted by their mother or a substitute. In the case of Ninma, she was greeted by 4 of Hutbari's wives, one of which was her actual mother. This part of the ceremony is deeply tied with concepts of death. Their mother(s) will place a crown, typically of some agricultural product be that barley, wheat, poppy, or olive (Ninma), on the child's head and will pray over the child. The child's head will be anointed with oil, typically either olive or sesame. This symbolically washes away the "dirt" of innocence and is done in imitation of the anointing of bodies before the first stages of the funerary process , thus marking the child's soul as worthy of continuation in the cycle of reincarnation. The child is then instructed to lay down on a bed, typically of straw or flowers (Haasir flowers for Ninma). The shape of the bed is meant to imitate the funeral cairns where the dead are left to be broken down by nature and the elements. The child is bid to sleep on their pseudo-grave, they may be given some sort of potion or medicine in order to induce sleep (as was the case with Ninma). The mother(s) will keep vigil over the sleeping child. After four hours the child will be awakened and fed a bowl of water, they must then break this bowl.

The child will be lead by their mother(s) into the care of a priest or priestess and of the same relatives which started the ceremony. More prayers are spoken, the child is told about their family line, starting with its origin, its founder, and their subsequent descendants leading up to the child. This can be a long and tedious process. When this story is thus completed the child is given a cake or bread by the elder relative (not the priest). By eating this cake the child thus accepts the name of their line, "Asherdul" in Ninma's case. From then on the child will be referred to as "The child of the family line" (Ti kipabi Asherdul). The use of the masculine or feminine conjugation of the word child is also the first time that the child is referred to in gendered terms.

The child will be brought back to their mother (s) who will bath the child, refreshing their perfumes and oils. They will comb and add beads to the hair, either gold or silver depending on the gender of the child (gold for girls, silver for boys). The child will be given a number of olives, figs, or dates, depending on the number of individuals in their line which share their name (Which the mother is aware of but not the child). By eating this the child thus accepts the numerical aspect of their name, "Ba '' or Second, in the case of Ninma. From then on the child will be referred to as " (Number) child of the family line" (Ba kipabi Asherdul). The child will be dressed in new clothes and jewelry. This is where Ninma was given her favorite red robes.

Dressed in their new clothes the child will be brought before their relatives and family friends, with the exception of their father or the closest equivalent. The child will announce their name thus far to the crowd. The child will subsequently be given gifts, typically in the form of toys, pets (particularly birds) and clothing. The first gift however will come from the priest or priestess that oversaw the acceptance of their Line. The gift comes in the form of a bowl of broth, typically made from lamb or beef. The child drinks the broth and smashes the bowl. They are thus given their "title" (if they have one), Princess (Ninjali) in Ninma's case (Ba kipabi Ninjali Asherdul). What follows will be the main body of the celebration. Food and drinks are consumed, music is played, songs and dances are performed, and shows of sagecraft might be performed.

As the sun starts to rise, the child's father will finally make their appearance. The child will address their father, bow and announce their name thus far. The child will be given three gifts, the first being a piece of cooked flesh from some large or dangerous animal, a piece of lion meat in Ninma's case. The child must consume the entirety of the meat. They will then be given a tiny bowl of wine. Upon emptying the bowl, the child smashes it on the ground. By consuming the meat and wine the child thus accepts their final name. The final gift is typically a trinket, piece of clothing, or jewelry with the child's true name written or depicted somewhere on it. Ninma was given her golden circlet, which has her name written on the inner rim. To finish the ceremony, in time with the setting sun, the child will announce their full noble name to the guests (Ba Ninma Ninjali Asherdul). The child will then be led to their bed to sleep, though the actual party might continue for some time.

[justalittlesolarpunk]

Hi there! I'm writing this in hopes that you'll have some advice. Lately I've been struggling a lot with concern for climate change. Mainly because I fear that I won't have a future, that when I'm older I'll live in a planet where you can't even go out because of the heat and everything is completely destroyed. And it's been affecting my day-to-day life. And no matter how much I try to avoid bad news they'll show up to me and I relapse into the anxiety and lose all the progress I made.

The bad news and the things that are happening (for example this thing going around of flowers growing in cold places, the one that probably worries me the most) make me feel like maybe the good things won't be enough and I won't have a future, no matter how much I hope. All I want is to be certain I'll have a life and things will get better

Do you have any advice to stop feeling this way? Thank you in advance!

Hi there. So firstly, thanks for reaching out. Anxiety can make us want to isolate ourselves and so you’ve taken a brave first step in seeking connection. I felt like you feel for a long time, and still do sometimes. It can feel like the change is so huge, so rapid, so irreversible, and human responses so weak, so slow, so apathetic. But I’m here to tell you that however reasonable being frightened is, it doesn’t have to be the end of the journey. Grief and fear are a good start for your environmental affect, because it means you’re keyed in and you care. But stopping there will only paralyse you.

I know the good things feel small, which is why it’s important to bombard yourself with them so you get a sense of just how much momentum we are building in the movement right now. I regularly check out Positive News and the Good News Network, and follow Sam Bentley and lots of ‘weekly earth win’ type accounts. When you see how much plastic people are clearing out of the ocean, how much solar and wind prices have come down, how Paris is now full of cyclists and London’s deaths from air pollution are reducing, how Europe is slowly rewilding and land is being returned to indigenous people, you realise that quietly, determinedly, good is happening in the background. And you aren’t always not seeing it just because it’s smaller or less important - bear in mind that the media sells on engagement, so attention-grabbing disasters will always hit front page news. It’s hard to quantify people who are alive who wouldn’t otherwise be, oil in the ground because people stopped a pipeline. Justice is often less hypervisible and sudden than injustice.

For me personally, taking action and spending time with others who are doing the same is the single biggest thing that cured a lot of my anxiety. Depending on your age, income, profession and health, I would recommend doing whatever is accessible to you of eating as much plant-based food as possible, reducing your use of aeroplanes and cars to as close to zero as is reasonable, making sure your stove, heating and hot water is being powered by electricity, switching to a renewable tariff, attending regular activist meetings and the protests and public debates these will lead you into, buying fewer clothes, single-use plastic items and other non-essentials, lobbying for change at your workplace, your university or your school, and bringing the subject up as often as you can with friends and family, so discussing climate change becomes more of a cultural norm. (I always find with these conversations though that scaring people is deeply counterintuitive and encourages them to get angry with you and bury their heads deeper in the sand. Why not start a conversation about how much healthier you feel when you eat lentils, or how transnational rail is making a comeback, or how exciting it is what they can do with solar and battery storage these days, or the amazing flood prevention benefits of reintroducing beavers?) I saw a tweet once that said ‘I bet 80% of your climate anxiety will disappear if you work full time on climate.’ Now I don’t work in that sphere yet, but I’m currently retraining, and I have to say a lot of my anxiety has quietened knowing that I am doing all I can and will continue to do so for the rest of my working life. And don’t feel like your skills or educational/professional background hold you back either: solving this crisis isn’t just for scientists and can’t be left to only one sector of society. I was an English Lit grad - now I’m hoping to work in campaigning, comms or social policy to make positive change for the better around climate. If it’s possible for you, I’d recommend starting to consider entering the green sector full time. Just watch out for corporate greenwash!

I know that changing your individual lifestyle isn’t going to save the planet, but it might just save you. Once you feel you have done everything you can in your personal life, it might embolden you to show up in activist spaces, to connect with other people who care, and to remember that as terrifying and agonising as the changes we are causing and witnessing are, there is always still hope, and it is easy to create and nurture that hope if you only keep hold of the right narratives and connect with the right people.

I’ve answered some similar asks on this sort of topic, so I’d recommend scrolling back through my blog and reading them, and also following as many solarpunks as you can across all of social media. Solarpunk Presents podcast does a good job of drawing your attention to the good stuff already happening now. Stay safe, take care of yourself and remember you have so much to offer. We were all born at the most pivotal time in human history. That is a burden, but it’s also a gift. We can have the most impactful and meaningful lives to date, and I think we will. But the fight has to start now, and that means we have to be ready for it. You can’t strive for a better tomorrow if you can’t imagine it, so take some time to look after you and really douse yourself in hope and optimism - it’s out there waiting to be found, if you only look in the right places.