#Free Slander Removal

[mochamvgz]

tbh i totally don't see what pleasure you can get by hurting someone??? and if you do you need SERIOUS help

these blr writers work hard and put effort and creativity into their work so who are you to belittle or undermine that by sending ANONYMOUS hateful asks. it's just such a cowardly thing to do

entertaining yourself by threatening, hating on, bringing someone's self esteem down, making them feel unsafe or anything even remotely close the above is NOT funny. is this what humanity has really come down to?

man I'm disappointed to say the least

@wvnkoi i hope yk that you're awesome! no wait that doesn't even cut close.., anyways pls take care of yourself and know that the people who love and appreciate you outweigh the ones that are js stupid and jealous by a landslide 🫶🫶

[shadowdarlings]

Rain and Redemption

Tamlin x Reader

Synopsis : After fleeing your home in the Court of Nightmares you seek refuge in the wild and unattended lands of the Spring Court. You are certain that you will remain unnoticed and can finally begin living a free life. After a year alone in the feral woods of Spring you stumble upon a most surprising beast, one who had been rumored lost forever.

Pairings : TamlinxReader

a/n : this one is for my tamlin girlies! i’m so excited to write this piece and i hope you guys enjoy. don’t get me wrong i love all my other acotar men but he’s been lingering in my mind lately. slight rhys slander but nothing that isn’t true <3 (i still love him pls do not demolish me in the comments)

Warnings : mentions of cruelty and torture, suggestiveness, tamlin being possessive (but in a good way)

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The forest crawled with many creatures. Some were benevolent while others sought flesh and blood. A year in the Spring woodlands had taught you much; survival chiefly, but it had also shown you strength from within that you had not known was there. The wherewithal to remain largely unscathed in such a dangerous environment was not cheap. Yet the perils of the forest did not compare to the cruelty of your home. You’d fled from the Court of Nightmares just over a year ago and headed straight for the Spring Court. Your plan to escape had been neatly designed. After the war with Hybern you knew that the southern territory was largely abandoned by its High Lord and sneaking into its territories would be your best bet at remaining hidden from your family and from the High Lord that ruled over them.

Over the years you had grown to detest the High Lord of the Night Court. His backwards notions of ruling fairly would have been laughable if they had not cost you so much. His love for the City of Starlight had left you and your people completely disregarded. Mostly left to manage yourselves, cruelty and violence soaked into the hearts of those who resided within the mountain. The reputation of your court was enough for Rhysand to deem all of you little more than the dirt under his finely crafted boots. After 50 years of growing up in such circumstances you’d had enough. Perhaps one day you’d return to uplift your people, to tell the pompous Lord exactly what his arrogance and misplaced judgment had cost you all. For now, you sat upon a moss covered log and removed your leather pack.

It had been a long day of traveling. Recent naga attacks had driven you from your previous shelter and further into the dense woods. The afternoon sun was quickly setting and you’d need to find new lodging before it slipped beneath the horizon. Taking account of your provisions, you deemed it safe enough to take a large swig from the water canteen stored in your pouch. After twisting the cap back on tightly, you shrugged on your pack and set off again to find a place to sleep.

It did not take long until you found a cave hidden amongst the brush and trees. Pulling back a branch you entered and surveyed the dimly lit cavern. Aside from a few discarded animal bones it seemed largely unoccupied. Whomever had been here before was long gone by your observation. Deeming it fit for the night you began preparing to settle and sleep. The latter caught up to you before you knew it, the fatigue of traveling getting the better of you. You slept hard and heavy until a crunch from just outside the cave jolted you awake. Flinging your eyes open you scanned the entrance to find a hulking shadow of a creature peering in. There was not enough light to reveal the nature of this being, as you had not started a fire in an effort to remain unseen. The giant figure took a step forward and you slammed your eyes shut, heart racing. Slowly and silently you reached for the dagger strapped to your hip but did not unsheathe it yet. Taking slow steadying breaths you monitored the creatures movements with only your sense of hearing. It seemed to take two tight circles and flop onto the ground, as if it too were exhausted. Daring to peek one eye open you confirmed your suspicions and saw the shadow of the massive thing taking deep, slumberous breaths as if it had paid you no mind whatsoever. Loosing out a silent sigh you thanked the mother for whatever amnesty she had granted until your lids grew heavy once more and sleep reclaimed you wholly.

Your eyes did not reopen until dawn cracked through the leaves and streamed into the cave. You moved a hand to shade your eyes from the light and slowly blinked them open. It was then you remembered you had not slept alone last night. Your gaze landed onto what seemed to be an oversized wolf curled up on the rock floor not three feet away from you. Your heart began its quickened pace once more as you silently turned away from it to sling your pack across your head and shoulder. Standing as quietly as you could you braced yourself to turn back around and make your escape. Yet when you faced the creature once more it was already on four giant paws, its eyes locked onto you. You sucked in a silent scream and took a step backwards against the wall of the cave, flattening your palms along the cool rock. Your eyes had locked onto a fierce pair of green ones that seemed to bore into your very soul. Quickly remembering what you had learned you averted your eyes and looked down at the ground. Ever so slowly you shrank down the wall until you had come into a full crouch. You had long since figured out that if you could not best something it was better to make yourself small and hope it would deem you unworthy of its time.

Yet the wolf took a step forward, and then another. Out of your peripheral vision you could tell it was lowering its massive head towards you. It took two long inhales then nudged forward once more. You knew it was foolish but you couldn’t help your curiosity as you lifted your head to gaze at the beast once more. Its emerald eyes were locked onto yours, almost as if it were a conscious being. You didn’t know if that was a good thing or not. It shifted once more, this time onto its hind legs to sit and then again to lay its enormous body down in front of you. Then as if trying to convey its docile nature the wolf let out a quiet whine. You weren’t entirely sure this was all real. It must have devoured you whole and you were now in the midst of some delusion brought on by death. Yet your heart continued to beat rapidly and your lungs still drew in panicked breaths. The wolf had not broken its eye contact and now looked up at you from its lying position.

Deeming your situation already lethal you cast your better judgment to the wind and let out a whisper. “Hello,” you said to the beast. It cocked its head slightly as if in greeting and curiosity. “I’m sorry I invaded your cave,” you said trying to tame the shaking in your voice, “I didn’t know it was occupied.” The wolf lifted its head ever so slightly and parted its giant mouth to reveal dagger like canines. “You invaded more than my cave, little nightingale,” it rumbled in a voice so deep it rattled your bones.

You were sure now that you were hallucinating. Your face was the picture of pure shock as you beheld the speaking creature. You sputtered and stammered, reaching for something to say. “You speak?” was all you could squeak out. The wolf remained lying down but lifted its head an inch further. “Yes,” it replied in that thick tenor. You managed the courage to straighten slightly and surveyed its lethal figure. The matted coat, the pronged horns that crowned its head, the striking green eyes that observed you in turn. It clicked just then. “You’re Tamlin,” you said, not exactly a question. The wolf blinked once, twice. “Yes,” he replied once more. You couldn’t believe it. You had heard the tales of a fallen High Lord who had bound himself to his beast form and hidden away in the woods. You’d just never expected to behold him, let alone engage in conversation with him.

You stumbled for your words again but managed to get out, “I- I’m sorry for intruding. On your cave and your lands. I needed…” Your ability to articulate a sentence evaded you entirely as you beheld him. “It is no matter to me,” he spoke, “not anymore.” There was a deep sadness that dripped off his words and you felt a tear in your chest. Without your permission, your body moved your hand up and onto Tamlin’s fur coated head. Your fingers threaded into the soft fleece and rested there for a moment. He stayed completely still. It took a few heartbeats to realize what you had done, what you were still doing. You retracted your hand, choking out an apology. Tamlin did not deign to respond. Instead he lowered his head back down and this time laid it right into your lap.

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He must be out of his mind, he thought. Yet he could not tear himself away from your gentle touch as you once again began your exploration of his fur. How long had it been since he had been touched? How long had it been since he had even seen another conscious life form? He breathed in your scent, that of lilies and hyacinths. It was polluted with the smell of the forest and survival. He had noted your thin figure before closing his eyes and relishing your touch. He noticed the dirty clothes, the grime under your nails, and the tangles in your hair that made you look wild and untamed. He pondered your presence in the Spring Court as you moved your hand to caress the other side of his head. He knew he should kill you. What other reason would a Night Court citizen be doing in his lands other than to spy and destroy him further. The thought had him opening his eyes once more, but he did not move from under your touch. “Why, little nightingale, have you come to my lands?” he grumbled softly. The sigh that escaped your lips was a heavenly sound. “I could not stand another minute in that court,” you responded to him continuing your exploration across his fur. He contemplated your words before prodding again, “But why come here of all places?” He watched you consider his question from his position on your lap until you let out a small laugh and said, “It’s the only place where I felt I would be safe.”

Something that had been long asleep in him awoke at your response. Here? Safe? With him? After everything that had happened in the last 53 years under Amarantha’s reign, the war with Hybern, and destruction of his court he could not fathom that anyone in all of Prythian could possibly feel safe here. “These woodlands are not safe, nightingale,” he said. You snorted in response to his implication. “I don’t know, my Lord, I’ve faired quite well this past year. Still all in one piece, see?” You removed your hand from his fur to gesture to your own figure. He immediately missed the feeling of your touch. It took a great deal of restraint not to nuzzle your hand back to its original place on him.

Instead he rose from your lap and stood to his full height, his head barely grazing the top of the cavern ceiling. You rose with him wringing your hands at his size. “You’re not safe here,” he repeated, “come.”

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A command. One that reverberated through you to your very core. You did not hesitate to follow him out of the cave and into a clearing beyond the brush. “Climb up,” he instructed. You paused only a moment until you realized he meant for you to ride atop his back. He lowered himself ever so slightly as you hiked yourself into his massive wolf form. “Hold on, little nightingale,” he commanded once more before beginning a slow trot away from your shared cave.

The trek had been mostly contended silence. The two of you only spoke in question and response when the curiosity became too much.

“Why did you leave home?” he asked.

“I grew wary of the cruelty of home and the misjudgments of my High Lord,” you answered.

“Why have you disappeared for so long?” you asked.

“I am not fit to be a ruler at present,” he responded.

The hike had been a few hours long until you broke from the cover of the forest into an expansive clearing with endless rolling hills. The grasses had overgrown and if you hadn’t been astride on his back your figure would surely disappear into the thickets. He continued his pace as he came upon a behemoth of a building. Its size was dazzling but its condition was ruinous. Vines had almost completely overtaken the walls, creeping into shattered windows. The gardens surrounding the manor were in complete disarray, growing this way and that. He stepped over the overgrowth with his giant paws and took you up a grand staircase leading to two massive wooden doors. Gently he nudged them open with his snout and stepped foot in the place he once called home.

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He didn’t know exactly how long it had been since he had been to the manor. Before this morning he’d had no intentions of returning any time soon. He was not worthy to reside here, not worthy to call himself High Lord. The ruin he had left it in had his ego twisting from embarrassment, but he had to get her to safety. He did not know where the urge had come from, did not understand his draw to this intruder. It had been a long time since he’d had a task, a purpose. While the feeling was still foreign it was anything but unwelcome. He lowered himself once more once the two of you were safely inside and relished once more the feeling of your touch before you slid off his back and onto the marble entryway flooring. Tamlin observed as you marveled at the interior. Your eyes ravenous, soaking up every inch of this new environment. “It’s horrendous, I know,” he spoke lowly, “but you will be safe here. Safer than in those woods by yourself.” You turned your too thin figure toward him and spoke, “It’s marvelous.” He pushed down the small hint of excitement at your words and simply said “You can wash up and change clothes in the third room to the left past the dining room. I will find something to eat for the night.” With that, he turned and stepped outside the manor once more with a new task in his mind.

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You followed his instruction, finding a room that was mostly untouched by claw marks and destruction. Although dust had settled upon almost every surface, it was nice to be sheltered by four walls again. The room you entered was clearly meant for visiting courtiers, with a four poster bed, a generous armoire, a tall looking glass, and connected was a spacious bathing room. The stale air in the room was unfamiliar as you had grown accustomed to fresh air and gentle spring breezes. Your first order of business was to pry open the ornate window across the room. Your second order of business was to strip completely nude and fill the giant tub with enough water to wash a bear. The spout shot out a few violent buckets of water before finally clearing the air from its pipes and finding a steady stream. As the tub filled you nosed into the cabinets to find a few bottles of soap and oils. Sure they were a few years old, but it was better than lakes and creek water. You savored the warmth of your bath as it relaxed tense muscles and lulled you into bliss. It was only when the water grew chilled that you pulled yourself out and searched for any clothing to don before the High Lord returned from his hunt. You’d found little in terms of prudence but the silk nightdress would work for the evening. It had been a long time since you’d thought about such courtly things as how much skin was showing. Growing bored in the chamber waiting for Tamlin you walked into the main hall and began exploring.

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He strode into the manor as silently as he could. Tamlin held the dead deer in his lethal jaws and gently set it on the black and white marble before shifting into his fae form. It felt unfamiliar to stand on two legs instead of four. His shrugged off his discomfort and headed straight for his abandoned quarters to find something to dress in. The last thing he needed was you stumbling upon his naked, dirt covered figure. Tamlin made quick work of putting on bland pants and a light tunic. He didn’t even bother buttoning it completely before making his way to the room he’d directed you towards. He knocked once at your door and heard nothing. He started to call out your name then quickly realized you had not yet given it to him. Knocking once more he paused, listening for a sign of you behind the door. More silence. He pushed open the door and saw that you were not there. After looking in the bathing room to find it empty as well his heart began to quicken. It was happening again. How could he have been such a fool? Of course you wouldn’t want to stay here. Who would? His estate was in complete shambles and he himself was no better. His breathing was erratic, his chest pumping up and down as he began his downward spiral. Then he heard a sound. His head snapped toward the door as he heard a melancholy music coming from elsewhere in the manor. He followed the melody to where he found you sitting in front of the grand pianoforte. The keys were out of tune, but the quiet song was still lovely. He could do nothing but stand and stare in utter shock that not only had you stayed, but you were freshly dressed in Spring Court attire and playing music in his home. He watched as your hands traveled gracefully upon the ivories. The sound of your song was like a breath of life into the tomb of the manor. His state of silent admiration was only interrupted by the end of your song. You let out a content sigh and rose from the bench, turning and meeting his eyes.

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The sight of him. You had not yet known the High Lord of Spring in his fae form. He was utterly gorgeous. Your eyes devoured him as if they were starved. His tunic was unbuttoned and revealed a generous portion of his muscled chest. It was then you remembered the thin nightgown you had thoughtlessly wrapped yourself in. You knew he was fae, but his wolf form had almost made you forget that he was also a male. A beautiful, stunning male. You quickly tore your eyes from him and found a spot on the ground to study as you greeted him, “My Lord.” He let out a breath as if he’d been holding it, “My Lady.” Your eyes flicked up to his at that. A faint smile ghosted his lips and his face was the picture of relief. “I’m sorry if I overstepped, I got bored waiting for your return.” He let out a quiet laugh and took a few steps to approach you. “That’s quite alright, little nightingale, I’m just happy to see that you’re still here.” It was your turn to laugh. What a ridiculous comment! Through a snort you said, “Where else would I go?” His smile grew and he offered you his hand. “Good point. I found us something to eat. Care to join me?” You stepped forward to meet him, his towering figure and scent overwhelming your senses. Yet you took his hand and returned the smile, gazing up at him. “I would love nothing more.”

[dtmsrpfcringe]

the definitive dictionary and almanac of Tinhattery

hi, this will be a list of the main misogynistic accounts, definitions people have questions about, accounts you should follow and abbreviations— let’s gooo!! If you’re tagged in this I probably put you on the accounts to follow section. Adding a cut here because it’s long and gonna get longer

definitions!!!!

LCB- Used to stand for letscoffeebreak, she has since changed her username to dejadestalkearmeloser.

NGO- Nightgoodomens

Ingrav, Amy- Ingravinoveritas.

tardisrose- thetardisisblueandroseistoo

Tinhatters- A group of (mostly) tumblr users who think everything in these two relationships are fake and the women are abusive and the men want to run away.

Queeranoners- same as above, my favourite way to refer to them, coined by the amazing @theeminentlyimpractical

sheenbergs- Mix for Michael and Anna’s name

sheenbergnant- the amalgamation of the four bad bitches we love

sheenant- ship name for David and Michael. (Remember kids: shipping is cool but it’s fictional!!)

DT- David Tennant (Georgias husband)

MS- Michael Sheen (Anna’s boyfriend)

GT- Georgia Tennant

AL- Anna Lundberg

PR- public relations

GM- a…delegitimising way of referring to Georgia by refusing to use her last name. Instead use her maiden name. Note how they don’t refer to David as David McDonald

APAT- usually used by tinhatters (stands for Anna Plain And Tall) to refer to Anna Lundberg

PR (Tinhatter definition) - an omnipresent being forcing two rich white men who constantly champion human rights and lgbtq acceptance into a hetero relationship because they just are so oppressed and abused and not because they love their partners!

PR (actual definition) -the professional activities of an agency hired by a person, company, or other entity to shape, create, and manipulate that person/company’s public image. A public relations firm is often useful in helping a company manage its media reputation when a crisis happens, in order to attempt to minimize false information or slanderous statements which could damage reputations.

Shipping- Shipping (derived from the word relationship) is the desire by followers of a fandom for two or more people, either real-life people or fictional characters (in film, literature, television series, etc.), to be in a romanticrelationship. Shipping often takes the form of unofficial creative works, including fanfictionand fan art.

Shipping (Tinhat definition) - NO THEY HATE THEIR PARTNERS AND WANT TO FUCK EACH OTHER LOOK HE BLINKED IN HIS VICINITY THEIR PARTNERS ARE ABUSIVE I SWEAR

GREATEST HITS (posts that killed Tinhatters, feel free to submit your favourites in my inbox)

The breakdown of an anon

tassel jokes

backstreet cringe

Ingravinoveritas admitting it

Laurens amazing fuck off post that snowballed into half the fandom straight up saying fuck you to these people

HALL OF SHAME (Worst of tinhatters, again feel free to submit more)

• Taraiha’s rivals meltdown

NGO hates this fandom for…calling her out

it’s not a choice to be weird and creepy about people’s lives! (Again shipping is fine. This shit is not!!!)

it’s okay if you attack women just don’t criticise Michael Sheen (no idea what she was talking about with David) this same lady had another absolutely dog shit post I guess she removed?!

How dare women…have fun at their birthday parties?? (Part 1)

for a group constantly sexualizing David and Michaels every movement we can’t stand when a woman shows a little chest and has fun

Accounts you should follow!!!!:

@goodomenswarning - same purpose as this account, hilarious, an amazing friend

@badaziraphaletakes - calls out shitty takes in good omens as well, so much more level headed about toxicity than I am but I love talking shit with them. @thegeorgiatennantblog - best Georgia content

@fightingalgth8rs -bad bitches calling out extreme sexism

@phoen1xr0se - one of the best and I devour everything she posts

@davidtennantgenderenvy stands up for what’s right in the fandom, one of my idols and stuck up for me during a vulnerable time.

lmk more I need to add because I’m definitely missing some

THE REPEAT OFFENDERS (booo 🍅🍅):

Ingravinoveritas- one of the bigger ones, refuses to believe Georgia does anything nice for David, or that any of them actually like their partners. Can’t stop fetishizing gay male relationships to save her life. If David blinks he apparently wants to be bent over. Likes to pretend she’s not as bad as the others but has some of the wildest takes and said she felt threatened and scared for her life at someone making a Shakespearean reference. Professional victim

Nightgoodomens- a particularly nasty motherfucker. So toxic she’s quarantined. Misogynistic, ableist, um…yeah not much to say there except for the fact that apparently anything that David does that involves his wife means he’s forced into it. Would rather see them as abused puppies than accept they love their partners. Heavy on the homophobia and bi erasure since yes, fetishization isn’t allyship, it is homophobia. Everything is PR. She doesn’t know what PR means nor that David and Michael are not nearly important enough to have a 24/7 team controlling all social media and personal aspects of their lives. Neil gaiman apologist who blamed his sexual assault revelations on David’s support of trans people. Denies women flirting with each other and boils it to PR friendships??!?

Dejadestalkearmeloser- pretty much the same as nightgoodimens, flips shit when you call her out on it, I mean look at her pinned post about me and you’ll see. Also apparently I’m every account that doesn’t like her. Seems to have a problem with lesbians not liking her (wonder why lesbians don’t like the misogynistic people who only talk about the lgbtq community when it comes to fetishising mlm relationships)

Thetardisisbluesndroseistoo- flips shit at Georgia getting credit for anything, lost her shit on someone saying that Georgia has educated David on lgbtq allyship (he quite literally said himself that she does) later deleted posts when I called her out. Can’t stop laughing at that

invisibleicewands- really, really creepy about Anna, delving into her past and family to try and find…something. Body shaming. Mom shaming. The usual misogyny.

dtmsrpf- I guess a spoof on my name, belongs to one of the others on this list. The usual misogyny with a particular axe to grind against their looks and other things. Definitely a little salty.

georgiatennantunofficial (instagram)- extremely fucking gross. Body shaming and misogyny. Usual. You guys see a pattern yet?

[quindread]

THE COTTAGECORE MARI AU PROMPT THAT NOBODY ASKED FOR

Pairing: Daminette (edit: they’re like 19/20 in this, post high-school)

Rating: It has mature themes, you have been warned. But it’s pretty tame at the same time. Violence + Sexual Themes

________________

Mari is diagnosed with PTSD and anxiety disorder after she quite literally removed her beloved city’s supervillain (and her dear partner’s parent) from the plane of existence. Like she removes the suffering from the minds of all of Paris and has Gabriel written off in a car accident a year after his wife’s disappearance. Only her Court (Adrien, Kagami, Zoe, Alix, Max) and the Order remembers. Mari and Adrien decide not to pursue a relationship. They’re both healing and are decidedly better off friends - siblings in everything but blood.

Lila, who was not punished due to her not really being a miraculous holder and upsetting the balance, continues to slander Mari. Her class isn’t hostile but has no desire to interact with the “new and mean Marinette” Lila was painting her to be. It’s still a huge betrayal given the fact that Mari was supportive and very generous to these people.

So here’s how her new housing arrangement works: have you ever wondered how Gina can afford to travel around the world without a job? Yeah, I think she came from money. Like, old money - real estate old money to be precise. Passive income and such. Hearing about her Fairy’s situation, she offers an unused property at the countryside of Metropolis.

Marinette’s therapist and parents approve of her vacationing there for the summer when they realize that her stressors and triggers where all environmental. So off our girl goes!

Note: She does not have the mother box with her anymore, just Tikki, Plagg, and Kaalki. (She does have unrestricted access to it as the Grand Guardian though - she trains with the Order once a week in Tibet until she doesn’t)

Mari is aware of the Supers and was relieved that the Kwamis don’t show up in x-ray visions and with the fear of them eavesdropping she learns FSL to communicate with them.

The townhouse and the verdure around the property inspires Mari to start a garden. The quiet oddly soothes her and when she feels lonely she goes into town or the nearby farmer’s market where she charms the locals. She meets the Kents - they love her! Martha enjoys baking with her. Lois uncovers her identity as Jagged and Clara Nightingale’s exclusive (and reclusive) designer - they bond over fashion trends and the gossip surrounding the industry. Clark and Jon were another story.

She figures them out having sensed the same soul in Superman and Superboy in this father-and-son duo. They x-ray her as a precaution and finds the mysterious cracks and evidence of past injuries that should have killed her. There’s a very anti-climatic reveal that Martha and Lois are not privy to with respect to Marinette’s wishes.

At least one Kent would be in her home during the day. The Kwamis are free to roam around when it was Clark and/or Jon visiting. She ends up bonding with Jon who also grew up too fast (metaphorically and literally).

She ends up extending her stay in Metropolis indefinitely. Her parents also decided to open a branch of their patisserie there which Mari managed. They visit her as often as they could.

Mari was dismayed to find that no, Metropolis had no schools with both a fashion and business degree - that’s how she ends up in Gotham University.

Jon tells Mari about a Damian - a friend of his.

J: He’s…. uh… he has a big heart.

M: …

J: He’s a bit of an asshole(?)

M: Ah.

Mari meets Damian who reminds her of Kagami - antisocial and proper. They share a few business classes and are both members of the art club.

Mari is still this ball of anxiousness and has only allowed Mia “Maps” Mizoguchi and Katherine Karlo into her life, the former she learned was close to Damian - she didn’t mind when she and the girls met up with Damian, he was quiet, honest, and minded his own business. Through their hangouts Damian finds out about the friendship between Jon and Mari.

He’s hesitant to befriend her at first due to the conflicting rumors about her: due to her timid personality she had a split reputation. One side called her sweet, shy, and kind. While the other calling her arrogant, high-maintenance, and rude. He soon finds out that the latter half were spread by cliques who’s offer of friendship she declined and men she rejected. He was glad that he relented to Maps’ insistent invitations - she was a decent person to hang out with and it didn’t hurt that she was pleasing to the eye. (She also enjoyed sharing her vegetarian salads with him - he starts appreciating it more when he learns that she picks the vegetables straight from the garden she grows.)

As her luck would have it, a robbery unfolds at one of their favorite coffee spots. Mari and Damian - who were both pretending to be civ - try to find a way to protect their friends. The robbers recognizes Damian as a Wayne and takes him and another GU(a school for rich and affluent people’s children) kid - Marinette - who had stood in front of her friends.

They’re gagged, blindfolded, and carted off to who knows where. Damian discreetly activates a distress signal and the bats spur into action. Mari, aware that she was sturdier than Damian, draws the men’s attention to her (she purposely pisses them off and gets beaten up when they start to pester Damian).

M: [removes her gag somehow] Really? A ski mask? And in black? How boring can you get?

*Damian shaking his head furiously in the background*

Kidnapper(KN): Shut up, girlie!

M: You know I always wondered how Kidnappers could have a secret a warehouse as a hideout. It’s not like you can afford the rent—

KN: Are you trying to get yourself killed?

M: You’re backed up by some politician aren’t you?

KN: H-How the fuck did this bitch know?

M: There’s literally a stack of campaign papers behind you.

KN: Wha—

M: That’s some shit graphic design by the way. I’ve seen grade schoolers that can do better.

KN: [points a gun at her] Shut up or I’ll blow your brains out.

M: You wouldn’t.

KN: The fuck do you know—

M: You need me alive to get ransom from my parents.

KN: …Nobody said you had to be in one piece though.

M: Touché—[get slapped hard]

*Damian basically starts convulsing in the background*

M: …Damn. You punch like a cunt—[And the kidnappers basically start to rough her up]

The bats arrive in five minutes and it’s Red Hood that finds them first. He sees these mf’s beating up a woman and goes ballistic(pun intended). Red Robin and Spoiler has to forcibly restrain him when he starts to use his fist instead of his guns.

M: [bleeding and bruised] And that’s how you deck someone, you amateurs.

D: [who was released by Black Bat is confused, mad at himself, and in awe] You blithering idiot! Why the fuck would you aggravate our captors like that?

M: [delirious] It was either you or me Damian. Can’t have your pretty face damaged now, can we?

D: [Is floored and very concerned] And what of yours?

M: … dun worry—my assets are…elsewhere… [passes out from the pain]

D: …

Later, his family would tease him about the flirting when he isn’t all sensitive about the incident.

Winter break comes, most of the Batfam visits the Kents(they have a penthouse/some ridiculous property in Metropolis) as a tradition. The Kents went to visit Gotham and stayed at the manor last year.

(Batfam who went: Bruce, Dick, Jason, Steph, Cass, and Damian)

They visit Mari too. Dick and Steph are absolutely thrilled about her cottagecore lifestyle. So much so that they match her aesthetic and begin helping out in the garden - they send pictures to Alfred who request they bring back fresh produce.

Jon and Jason plot to get Damian and Mari together. Unbeknownst to them that Damian was already resolute on courting Mari like the decorous man that he was - he didn’t know what he was doing but Mari’s flush when he initiates flirting tells him he’s doing okay.

Because of his childhood, Damian was never the type to be touchy but imagine his shock when he finds out that one of his more prominent love languages was physical touch. He realizes he’s touch-starved almost immediately when Mari starts giving him small touches like a hand against his bicep, she had a fondness for touching his hair which never failed to deliver a shiver down his spine, and hugs from her are comforting - she felt like home.

Meanwhile Mari does not have any idea how she survived the early stages of Damian’s advances. He was blunt and did not pull his words with insults but it apparently translated to him being verbally open with his affections.

M: I always wanted to be the Knitting Fairy while growing up.

D: Does it not please you that you became a garden fairy instead?

M: Huh, that doesn’t sound so bad.

D: Well, you certainly look the part.

M: [turns into the same shade as the poppy beside her]

And then when the tension between them became more prominent he wasn’t shy with dropping innuendos too.

M: [open’s the door for Damian, haggard from lifting sacks of garden soil] Oh, I didn’t know you were coming so early. I’m a bit of a mess. Sorry.

D: [Tilts his head] You say that as if I wouldn’t appreciate you sweaty and tousled after a rigorous activity.

M: [self-combusts]

And when the touching began?

M: Damian, what color do you think looks better with this shade of blue?

D: [places a hand on her side while looking over her shoulder] I think the a more neutral cream would do.

M: [stops functioning]

Their first kiss?

Pulled straight out of a book that Marinette only read in the privacy of her bedroom.

They’re teasing each other, it evolves to a game of cat and mouse with Damian skillfully evading her. She corners him by turning on some of her sprinkles. He gets wet, growls in the way he would in Mari’s dreams, and pulls of his shirt. She’s too distracted by the hard planes of his stomach to notice him prowling towards her like a beast moving to claim his prey. He picks her off the ground with ease - he’s a foot taller than her - and takes her to the sprinklers.

(I’m going to write this part out properly, maybe to inspire myself or a potential adopter of this prompt)

“Nononono!” Marinette shrieks as the first round of water splashes her. She writhes but Damian had her arms held down her sides.

“All is fair in love and war, Ya Amar.” She ignores the endearment in favor of closing her eyes as the sprinkles rotate in their direction again. But she knows what it means. Ya Amar. My moon. His moon. The water had nothing on the chill that ran down her spine

The water stars seeping into her intimates and she’s soberly aware that the light fabric of her dress would betray her. It doesn’t take long for Damian to discover that fact, he releases a strangle sound. She opens her eyes, he snaps his eyes from where he was clearly looking at her chest. He scrambles to drop her.

“Shit— I’m sorry. This was not my intention—“ he starts but she’s faster. Her now free arms grasps his shoulders and without a second thought, she drops her lips to meet his. Damian inhales sharply and he tilts his head, temporarily breaking the kiss before raising her higher and pulling her by the back of neck - he kisses her with hunger and passion that has Marinette melting further against his chest.

She wraps her legs around his back and he moves to tightly grasp both the back of her thighs. She would worry about bruises later when she didn’t have Damian’s tongue caressing her own. He drops them to the ground and Marinette does not release her hold over his waist. She whines against his lips when she feels the consequences of their activity.

His hands start wandering as he greedily collects and files the sounds that leaves her lips. He begins to trail kisses down her neck to the neckline of her dress that now clung to her body like a second skin giving him his first peek at the maddening shape of her body. And just when he trails a finger against the underside of her breast a loud noise pulls them apart.

Jason finds them and the sight in Mari’s garden has him dropping the shovel he was asked to bring over.

J: Fuck! No, don’t stop! Hell—I’ll leave—I didn’t see shit!

D: [moving to cover Marinette who covered her face in embarrassment] Fuck off, Todd!

J: I’m sorry! [slams the door shot]

D: Tt.

J: [shouts from inside the house] Use protection!

D: Todd!

They started officially dating that day and Jason had no reservations in sharing that he definitely cockblocked his little brother much to Mari and Damian’s horror.

Both keeps the PDA to minimum in school but it was very clear how amorous they where in “private”. There is a table in the art hall that Mari can’t quite look at without blushing to her roots.

She finds out he’s Robin after her first encounter with his alter-ego. He confesses his past when she confronts him. There’s fear of abandonment in his eyes when he gazes at her after his spiel but she kisses his worries and doubts away. She even goes to show her appreciation for his years of service to Gotham.

Her reveal happens when she unceremoniously drops a vial in Jason’s hand claiming that it would remedy the effects of the Lazarus pits with continuous use - it was completed after a year in the making.

Cardinal joins the Batfam occasionally as part of Batman’s contingency plans. They respect her choice as a retired super-soldier and try to keep her out of the business which she appreciates. She is officially initiated as a member of Justice League Dark as an informant/magic specialist and a wildcard.

Years later, she legally inherits the property from Gina when she and Damian get engaged. Damian moves in with her and she lives her cottage life all while being a reclusive designer that comes out once in a while for fashion week.

FIN

AN:

Maybe there’s a Lila take down somewhere but I don’t have the energy to write her at all. We all know its Damian and Tim that makes sure she never sets a foot in high society ever again.

Ig add some details about learning to healthily cope with her anxiety disorder under the guidance and love of her found family? (I have a similar illness but me and my therapist are still figuring it out so I have little idea how to write this) Her PTSD does not need further discussion (miss ma’am had to kill someone) but her anxiety disorder stems from the fact the she’s a person who’s in charge of world-ending powers - everyone and even yourself can become untrustworthy. She starts to get nervous from misreading body languages and everyone is suddenly out to get her.

[katyspersonal]

Hi there, I hope you don’t mind the random question but in your mind which fanbase would you say is worse, Elden Ring or Bloodborne in terms of annoying fans. I used to think Bloodborne fans could be bad but holy shit ER fans are something else when it comes to lore discussions. As someone who is pretty active in lore talk with both games do you find one side to be more exhausting to deal with than the other? Obviously feel free not to answer this if you think it might start drama

Honestly? I can't hate Bloodborne fandom enough.

Bloodborne was my first Fromsoft game and one keeping me hostage in terms of fixation for over three years, like I said! And yes, it has incredibly bad, toxic people in it - Maria fans who kept slandering Gehrman despite all the info against their takes, honestly believed there is anything problematic with Gehrmaria, had mental breakdown if anyone dared to see Maria as bi or straight despite her not having canon sexuality, believed that the whole story is either about man bad woman good OR was incredibly misogynist, no between. Close minded, toxic people who would deliberately bait anger and pain with placing their hate in the tags and then play victims when those hurt fans snapped back. Oh, I hate them, and revealing that Gehrman's "creepiness" and "misogyny" was completely and fully translation mistake, as well as pointing out how comes why nothing is wrong with how Doll is dressed with facts, is forever my most valid contribution to the fandom. More so than my ugly childlike fanart or convoluted theories could ever be. But, not THIS is why Bloodborne fandom is worse in my opinion.

Elden Ring fandom introduced not one but SEVERAL annoying and exhausting topics to deal with! I "affectionately" titled especially rabid Malenia and Miquella fans 'Twin Cultists' because this is exactly what their behavior is and have always been! Funny enough, a person who got mad at me for this one was someone who got alienated on Discord server for Miquella fans because owners started to insist that only their headcanons are valid AND admitted to me on feeling unsafe for not shipping Finlenia. I am dead serious! Malenia fans are strikingly similar to Maria pseudofeminist fans in toxicity, Miquella fans are like if you removed all likeable traits of Leda and replaced them with even MORE of undying vitriol for anyone who dares to interpret him as anything but perfect pure radiant sunshine. Mohg triggered a pretty awful discourse between those who insisted he was rapist molester whatever and if you interpret it differently you are insensitive and media-illiterate victimblamer and people who defended him "becoming the very thing they sworn to destroy" as well as also exhibiting cult-like thought control in their circles (they know who they are -_-).

But the DLC has changed things a bit, right? Some Twin Cultists are still spilling vitriol, except now they also claim that writers are bad, not only fans that disagree with them! Still, blessed, deserved vindication finally arrived! But what about others, whose situation never changed? Vitriol towards Godrick is ABSURD. You know how common fandoms L is that they judge and hate female character for something, but when male character did the exact same thing it is humored or justified? Godrick is this, minus the gender difference, yet everyone who points out his actual characteristics and the hypocrisy of his haters gets ridiculed. You thought that his fans would flock together to support each others? No, turns out that pocket are loosers who think people who don't headcanon him as trans are childish and ridiculous and loathe cishet Elden Ring fans in general. Fia and D are caught in the weird discourse loop where one is always simplified and idealized and another is demonized to Hell and beyond, when they both are strongly caught in religious brainwashing of sorts but also are sympathetic in their own right. Ranni's fans and haters both do not know the term of Machiavellian (aka "Ends justify the means" philosophy). She is the worst most evil character in the setting over what crimes she committed in order to protect the world from the problem of potentially anyone being able to grab the laws of nature itself and shape them according to their bigotries and preferences, OR she is a perfect innocent fighter against oppression and people who dislike her Just Hate Women TM. And of course we cannot forget the one above them all! The radiant, omnipresent, eternal!...

Marika truly brings out the worst of discussions! She has been before SOTE, but you YEARN for pre-SOTE times if you hate OR love her! Not because things changed, but because now discussion can't be avoided. She is THE Elden Ring character who is only ever demonized and idealized. Before SOTE, she was only ever just a tyrant who loves genocide OR simply a puppet of Greater Will (or rather Two Fingers claiming to speak for it as it turned out) who never meant to do that shit and finally heroically rebelled. After SOTE... hahaha, oh boy... we started to deal with the issue of excusing genocide. Her fans will claim into essays and more essays why Hornsent are all fundamentally dangerous race and Marika is merely trying to rid the world of filth that ruins it by sending Messmer. However, demonization didn't quite go away either, and her haters are so angry at writers humanizing her a bit more that they say WRITERS are pro-fascist!

So, why? I've described such horrid discourse, when Bloodborne fandom sounds like it simply has a few bad apples in comparison! What can be worse than Elden Ring fandom, after a description like this? Yeah, you see... Elden Ring fandom is thorn by awful arguments and discourse, it is hostile and dangerous for your mental health if you are invested into fandom beyond just "consuming content" and advertising your art for sale. Yet, it lives. It lives in the same sense as a land torn by earthquakes lives. It lives in the same sense a volcano that won't stop smoking lives. It lives in the same sense sea lives during the storm. But it LIVES.

Bloodborne fandom is a fucking Caelid.

If you question whether I'd be scared of "drama", I assume you are new here and don't know my epic lore. I am not afraid of anything because society made itself clear on what I am for it. In the most condenced way possible, one OF those toxic Maria fans didn't like me thinking for myself too much so they went out of their way to slander me for various -ists and -phobias. Their ableist friend that doesn't take racism seriously joined in. I was a victim of stalking, harassment, slander, witch-hunting and cult-like shunning for over a year, and so was every kind fool who treated me like a human - friend or mutual. I can NOT speak of Bloodborne fandom experience from personal standpoint because obviously it is not an objective experience (though someone who also got unfairly slandered by Maria fans too contacted me, so I question whether it IS a trend..?). Still, it isn't about me or my friends, we are an oddity. Bloodborne fandom for me was just a bunch of gullible, weak sheep who are okay with witch-hunt because letting just a few people get harassed is not worth souring their fandom experience. And I do not wish to turn back or even try to mend anything. I caught my stalker and exposed their crimes, I made everyone who believed they were innocent feel stupid and ashamed, it was all I wanted. I don't wish to "befriend" the fandom afterwards.

YEAH YEAH "THINGS ONCE BROKEN" WHATEVER

But I was still posting and drawing and playing and talking and writing, right? I was still present. So, I was at least observing what was going on. And what truly soured Bloodborne fandom was actually happening afterwards, what was not involving me or any friend or enemy I knew. The worst thing happened, worse for fandom than any amount of discourse. I call it "centralization", for lack of better term.

Bloodborne is a niche fandom, yet it had a sudden zoomers burst. And that led to dynamics of "fandom leaders", and stupid fucking Discord community that are akin to elite club in which if you are not invited you might as well not exist. It ALL became about stupid "web of mutuals" nonsense. It ALL became about some cool kids deciding what will be the ship or the take of the week/month, and soon you'd see NOTHING but this thing posted. Always through the exact same lense, too. Only to then be forgotten, because it was just a trend. Rom x Caryll comes to mind as a FAD of similar vibe. Micolaurence too.

I just hate this. The fandom stopped LIVING. I saw genuinely absurd things happen! Like someone drawing Mariadeline, one of the most popular ships in the fandom, yet they get completely ignored because they've failed to grab a beer at the bar with "leaders" of this ship who "hold" the distribution of that approval and love. Even worse; over a year ago, a very talented, fun, energetic and creative fan of Mensis Trio and Byrgenwerth squad showed up! They were SPAMMING art and writing, and all of that was good! So good that..... all of that barely got over 20 notes, maybe 30. Why? Because, again, you can't just post about blorbos and expect to be liked and approached. You have to get on the "good side" of "holders" of love for characters like Micolash, Laurence and Rom, or else they'll just side-eye you! But imagine this with literally everything else. I have been watching it happen all the time, to people that were not even targets for cult-like shunning by Alfred, Eugene or Anna for associating with me. You keep to yourself, you are shy, you are not on Discord with them, your headcanons are a bit different? Too bad, you may rot, because it is not about you! People look up to a few popular artists with shallow takes and so much creative liberties they might as well make OCs to know whether this or that person should be liked and reblogged, instead of JUST liking and reblogging them!

THIS is why Bloodborne fandom is Caelid. Not for toxicity, but because it is rotten. It used to be far less "organized" when I joined in. There were no trends to define fandomry for next few weeks decided on a party where ignored creators were not invited to. There was not hegemony of certain ships, designs and headcanons. There was no "web of mutuals" and pressure to either assert yourself by the good side or vanish. Everyone were doing their things and coexisting, nobody could determine who flourishes and who rots, diversity of headcanons and interpretations were celebrated. Oh, what's a matter? You really dislike that popular artist who infantilizes Marika and stripes her out of any agency over her actions? Well, so do like 500000 other people! Every popular take is ALSO popular to hate on in Elden Ring fandom! But if you dislike a popular take in Bloodborne then sucks to be you, because diversity of interpretations, opinions, preferences and takes just doesn't exist in it. Not anymore. Unless you "asserted" your novel idea to the "court" on some stupid Discord server and was "approved", of course.

Look. Elden Ring discourse annoys me to no end. I always get my headcanons and interpretations "corrected" in the worst condescending fashion. My friend posted a very well made lore post and got harped on because his take contradicted someone's idol's headcanons (with that idol approving of that harping) and I am still mad. I don't want to post my GEQ takes to be reminded that "aktualy" she is Melina. I dislike seeing claims of Miquella's nonexistent character assassination or Radahn hated just because some sexist Redditors were using him as a mascot. Nonetheless, deep down, I am THANKFUL. Because even really annoying debates end up being entertaining. Because people here TALK about things, REVISIT things, ARGUE about things, CARE about things, HAVE OPINIONS on things. They will annoy you in the comments or reblogs, but they SPEAK to you. No take is so popular that it defines all art and fanfics because every popular take is also popular to hate on. Things are disorganized. No fandom leaders, no elite club ignored blog wasn't invited to, no "web of mutuals" that should get sucked into a vacuum cleaner and never be seen again. Elden Ring fandom is a battlefield, but also free market minus the money.

To be honest, Bloodborne fandom was done for me when based people started to vanish. Fishbowlcarnage deactivated everywhere, Cuddlefish mysteriously disappeared and I worry whether they are even alive to this day, user Molluscock got bullied away... It felt like a bad omen, it happened before my drama, and I've never seen users like this before. Except I have been, but they all are now ignored because of this stupid high school dynamic taking over. Had Elden Ring hyperfixation not happened, I'd probably just end up blocking many Bloodborne accounts and never care for trying to make connections again, just post art and vanish to draw the next one. I did end up blocking some Bloodborne mutuals, after all. After it hit me, what was bothering me so much. Appreciate Elden Ring fandom and it's earthquakes, because shaking earth can't be bigger evil than stagnation. Bloodborne fandom no longer breathes, they are champions of not feeding the sparkles that were meant to become fire hoping they die down, and I hate every looser that benefits from that "system". In Elden Ring, ALL things flourish, whether graceful or malign.

[nexiva]

You made me hate you.

Part 2

Bucky x reader

Warnings: angst, swearing

Summary: You found out about Bucky joining the Avengers.

A/N: This one is a little bit longer. A lot of bucky slander but bear with me. It is a SLOOOW burn after all. Enjoy!

Masterlist

“No, there is no fucking way!” I screamed so loudly that I was sure even those taking off on a mission in the quinjet could hear me. “Not only did no one bother to inform me that the fucking Winter Soldier would now be joining the Avengers, but you’re giving him a room on my floor, RIGHT NEXT TO ME?” I couldn’t control my emotions; my head was pounding with anger, and horrible memories flooded every thought in my mind.

“Y/N, I-”

“No, Nick, how could you do this to me? You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. I can’t believe—”

“Agent Y/L/N! Calm yourself down, or you will be removed from my office,” Fury said firmly. I couldn’t believe what I just heard. I felt so hurt that I couldn’t even pinpoint what I was feeling at that moment. The morning had started so wonderfully. I had a few recruits to train later in the afternoon. I had plans to have breakfast with Nat in the kitchen downstairs at the compound. We were supposed to watch the morning episode of Keeping Up with the Kardashians. It’s the only thing that lets us unwind before work. I was just leaving my room when I suddenly heard Steve’s voice next door.

“Y/N’s not going to like it,” Steve said. I thought maybe he and Sam were planning some kind of prank on me. They just love to mess with me—silly brothers I never had. But then I heard a voice I couldn’t quite place.

“I know, Steve, but I’ll do anything to bury the hatchet. She’s the last person on my list.” Who was he talking to? Anyways, I couldn’t let them ruin my morning with some dumb joke. “Oh, you thought you were going to get me, huh?” I barged into the room next door, feeling triumphant in my cleverness—but my smile instantly faded. I felt my legs turn to jelly. My heart started pounding like crazy. I was literally ready to fight, but I couldn’t move. I could only stare at him with a blank gaze. I froze in place like a statue. “Y/N, I thought you’d already gone downstairs with Romanoff. This is—this is Bucky. Fury is assigning him to our team.” And still, I couldn’t move. I simply walked out after what felt like an eternity and immediately ran to Nick’s office. I didn’t know what to do. I stood there helpless as Fury slowly approached me. That’s when Tony walked in.

“Oh, great! The savior himself. Are you going to tell me how you forgave him? How I should be capable of that too?” I said through tears. I felt the pressure pounding in my head. My hands were trembling with anger. “Y/N, please…” Tony and his tone. I knew Nick had called him just to try to calm me down. “I know these words won’t mean anything to you right now, but yes, I forgave him, and yes, I went through the same thing you did. Believe me, I still think he’s a piece of shit, but that doesn’t mean he did all of it of his own free will. He’s a damn good soldier, and we need him on missions. He’s a different man now.” Jesus Christ. I felt like everyone was against me.

“He killed my sister, Stark. Right in front of me. How can any of you expect me to live under the same roof as her murderer?!” And that was it. Morning ruined.

I hadn’t spoken to anyone all day. Breakfast with Nat – canceled. Training the new recruits – couldn’t care less. I locked myself in my room, not even feeling like eating anything. I couldn’t sleep that night. The thought that just next door was the man who took away the only family I had wouldn’t let me rest. I had already come up with a million ways to kill him. “We’ll need him on missions”? What even was that? As if we didn’t already have enough super-soldiers on the team. The sunlight streaming through the curtains broke me out of my thoughts. I didn’t want to leave my room, but my stomach was making it clear it wouldn’t take no for an answer. I hadn’t eaten in 24 hours. What if I ran into him on my way out? What if he was downstairs? Was he just going to casually have breakfast with us now? What the hell is going on?! I couldn’t take it anymore. I took a cold shower and decided to go downstairs. Thankfully, I didn’t run into anyone. Thankfully... The whole building was eerily quiet. But that was good—I couldn’t handle a conversation right now. I ate my scrambled eggs and drank a warm cup of tea in peace. I felt a little better already. I knew I couldn’t keep putting off my responsibilities. No matter how awful I felt, I had to pull myself together. The new recruits were waiting for their training, I guess. Slowly, I made my way to the gym. I approached the doors, and that’s when I saw them. Everyone. The whole team was watching as he casually trained MY new recruits. Until now, I thought this was just some sick nightmare and now I see him doing what was supposed to be my job? Not a single person against it. Only me. Alone. I was about to turn around and leave when I suddenly felt a hand on my shoulder. Tony. Again. “Y/N, you can’t hide in your room forever and run from reality. You have a job to do. You’re not a child anymore. It’s time to face your demons from the past.” So I guess it was true after all, huh? I’d have to work with HIM. Alright. If we’re going to do this, we’re going to do this on my terms. I’m going to make his life a living hell.

[ambiguouslady42]

Roman Holiday

Pairing: Agent Twilight/Loid Forger x (implied) Chubby Fem! Reader

CW: Fluff, smut (fingering, PinV), angst

WC: 7K

Summary: You're a royal princess on a Commonwealth tour in Europe. Your last leg of the tour is in Rome. One night you snap and decide to run away. The mysterious Agent Twilight finds you, unaware that you're a princess. He takes it upon himself to show you around Rome, unaware that his life is about to change. FYI: this is very self-indulgent

Tags: @lazyjellyfish300, @pixelcafe-network, @himenoakuma; dividers by @/bronzewasp

If you see a mistake, no you didn't.

You're on a Commonwealth tour for your country. You've been on this extensive tour of Europe for nearly a month. Your days are packed with meetings, parades, and greetings from morning to night. You smile from ear to ear, never commanding that this must cease immediately. The last leg of your tour brings you to Rome. Your feet ache from constantly standing and wearing shoes with uncomfortable heels. The outfit changes are draining; you can't wait for the same dress that you wore for the meeting with some diplomat or other royal to dinner. The press is constantly waiting for you to slip up so they can write whatever slander about you.

On this particular evening, you lost your shoe while slipping it off to let your foot be free of the constraints of discomfort. While greeting the 100th person at this ball tonight, you lost your shoe in the shuffle to accept the hand of the individuals to dance with you. You remained calm, and your face never shifted into shock or fear, always keeping the façade that everything was perfect in your royal world. As far as the public knows, the princess loves the royal engagements and always has a smile on her face.

You desire privacy when you're back in your sleeping quarters at the Italian Embassy. The decor is regal, but you were hoping it was plain and normal like the bedrooms seen in films. Your secretary goes through your appointments for the following day while you sit in bed eating your milk and crackers. You weren't fond of this snack, but whenever you made an effort to speak up that you would like to skip your bedtime snack, the consensus was, "You speak nonsense, you enjoy your bedtime snack." You are trapped in the monotony of routine, and you feel desperate to fly free like a bird.

"At 11 am, we need to go down to meet the journalists from various parts of the world. At noon, we will head out to speak to the Prime Minister, and at 12:30 pm, you will have a tour of the parliamentary building. At 1 pm, we will make our way to …"

"PLEASE STOP. I'm so exhausted. I just want to do nothing, I can't do this anymore!" This was a moment of weakness for you. You didn't want to endure any more of this routine. If you had to be honest with yourself, your deepest desire was just to have a day outside in Rome and do whatever your heart desired.

"Come now, princess. Finish your milk and crackers, it'll make your feel better." You were repulsed just looking at the glass of milk and the tray of crackers.

"You're not listening to me, I don't want to do this anymore. I want to die!" You sob into the pillow to let it be known just how tired you are.

"I'll go get the doctor," your press secretary says.

It doesn't take a long time for them to return with the doctor. You roll over to see the doctor there with a needle.

"What's that?" you say meekly.

"It'll make you feel all better, it's a new drug to help people relax. I think this is all you need." The needle pricks your skin, but you don't feel it. You wonder if it's from exhaustion.

"There, that will make you feel all better. Sometimes, all you need is rest. Good night, princess."

Your press secretary removes the glass of milk and crackers from your bedside table, curtsies, and then quietly leaves the room. She leaves the light on for you; you're afraid of the dark. You don't feel anything, so you wonder if this drug even works at all. A lightbulb illuminates in your head. You get up from your bed and walk over to the window. You see the people enjoying their night with music, dancing, and drinking. You want to be just like them, free of duty and just living your life on your terms.

You quickly get out of your nightgown and dress into a plain white-collar shirt, a skirt, and the most comfortable shoes that you have in your collection. Your feet still ache, but you don't have a choice right now. You look around to see if anyone is standing guard by your door; it's empty. You stealthily move to the next part of the embassy, where you can find access to the nearest exit. You keep looking in both directions, double-checking that you remain unseen. At last, you're outside but not out of the woods yet. You hide behind a wall and see one guard. When the guard turns around to walk in the other direction, you move to get closer to the gates. Alas, you find a truck that's going to exit the grounds. No one is in sight, so you hop aboard in the back, concealing yourself with the random goods that are stored there. A whistle is heard, and you hear a door slam and the sound of an engine starting. You're moving! The creaking of the embassy gates is loud. You hear a clink when it closes. You take a small peak, and you're dancing internally; You're outside. You have no idea where you're going, but you're free at last.

Meanwhile, on the Roman roofs, a figure is standing. He removes a mask and takes a deep breath. "I know HQ is short-staffed, but I need to stop accepting three missions in a day." He sighs and takes a deep breath in. Agent Twilight, a spy, is not here on holiday but on back-to-back missions. He is also exhausted, but if you want to achieve world peace, spies can never take a day off. As a spy, he needs to remain unseen and invisible to the public. He has been jumping from abandoned building to another these last 48 hours, to just rest his eyes for 2 hours before continuing to move to his next target. He's used to this, but he feels it the way that his back aches and his head hurts. "I really should try to get some rest tonight. I'll leave tomorrow, unnoticed."

He moves down to the streets in a civilian's outfit that consists of a green 3-piece suit and a suitcase; he's just a tourist on holiday. As he is walking by, he notices someone hop off the back of the truck.

"Strange…that seems like suspicious behaviour. That's none of my business. I've completed all my missions for today…but just to be sure."

You're unaware that you have eyes following you. You're moving and looking around at the people enjoying their drinks and cigarettes in cafés. Just as you're twirling and taking in the sights, you begin to feel very drowsy. The world looks like it's spinning for you. You keep moving, unsure where you are or where you're going. Away from the crowds, you find a low wall and sit on it. "Maybe I'll lie down here, just for a few minutes," you quietly tell yourself.

You suddenly don't feel the cool air blowing or the hardness of the concrete. You can hear some sounds, but it wouldn't be enough to wake you at this rate. The spy caught up to you, he is standing right over you.

"Miss, are you alright?"

Going deeper and deeper into your sleep, you can't find the words to respond. You grunt and smile.

"Miss? Can you hear me?"

You grunt again.

"Christ. This woman is drunk," Twilight says aloud.

You begin to roll over, and he grabs you. "No, no, we don't want to do that! Here, let's try to stand up."

He quickly grabs you, and you lean on him. You can smell something wonderful against you, but your eyes are too heavy to open. Your arms are limber and lack the strength to hold on to anything. He starts to shake you.

"Where do you live? Come on, lady."

"Who is this stranger trying to wake me up?" you kept thinking.

"Come on, wake up." The shaking becomes more persistent.

"I live at the Colosseum."

His eyes roll. "Seriously, where do you live?"

"I already told you, I live at the Colosseum."

"This is going nowhere. Okay, Twilight, think. You've been with countless women before for a mission, but she's not a mission. She's just a stranger. What's the right thing to do here?"

He sees a taxi driving by, and he hails it. The cab driver asks where to. "Take her wherever she lives." He gently sits you down in the backseat.

"Signora, where do you live?"

"I keep telling you, at the Colosseum."

"Signore," the cab driver calls out. "I cannot take her anywhere; where does she live?"

Twilight hops onto the cab with you. This time, he tries to gently ask you where you live. "Come on, miss, I need you to try to remember where you live."

Your sleep has defeated you, and you can no longer hear the questions being asked of you. Twilight admits defeat to himself, sighing that he must find a hotel to sleep in tonight. It was his plan anyway, but now he's stuck babysitting some random stranger.

"Please, just take me to a decent hotel in the area," he states with resignation.

The cab driver just nods and begins to drive. Twilight looks over to you and sees you asleep against the window. "She will not be my problem tomorrow, I'll make sure of that."

The drive is short, and both of you arrive at a decent-looking hotel. To add to his frustration, he is forced to carry you inside. It was embarrassing having you lean on his arm while he's trying to just get a room for the evening. The concierge seemed indifferent, likely because it wasn't the first time a couple like this has strolled in like this on hotel grounds. "Can you please just deliver tomorrow's paper to the room?"

"Of course, signore."

After carrying you, he opens the door to the room. It's spacious, with one large bed, a desk with a chair, and a beautiful view of the city from the window. He gently lays you down on one side of the bed while he looks around the room. You can never be too sure if there are wiretaps present. He opens up the suitcase and finds a pair of pajamas to change into. The moment he's about to change, he makes one final effort to wake you.

"Hey, can you hear me? Hello?"

"Mmm. What is it?" You open your eyes just slightly. You see a man with the most beautiful eyes, but you can't quite make him out clearly.

"Can you open your eyes and listen to me?"

You make an effort to open your eyes. "You need to change and put these on."

"What are those?" Your brows furrow, and you close your eyes again.

"They're pajamas."

You're not conscious enough for this, but you're aware that you're not small enough to wear these.

"They're not going to fit."

"I assure you they will," He tries to comfort you.

"What if they don't?"

"Just try them on, come on, get up." He helps you up to find the bathroom. He opens it for you and closes the door.

You lean against the door and start giggling to yourself. You slowly begin to get out of your clothes and attempt to put on the shirt. One of the buttons in the middle opens up due to your bust, but at this moment, it doesn't matter. These bottoms do not fit due to your waist-to-hip ratio. You don't feel shame but just giggle because this has never really happened before. All of your clothing is bespoke and made for you.

"If it's not too much trouble, could you please close your eyes while I exit. The bottoms did not fit, and I am not decent."

"My eyes are closed; I'm not going to look." You walk, and your eyes are closed too. You bump into something, and that's when he intervenes. "Okay, miss, let's get you to bed." He opened his eyes; he tried to be a gentleman in this moment, but he did take notice of the buttons that remained open. He tried not to let his gaze linger any longer than needed. He gets to lie down on the side of the bed. You immediately go to sleep face down. Your long locks cover up your face. For a moment, he wants to move your hair out of your face, but he resists. Twilight walked to look for an extra pair of pajamas; he did not have any. He notices the pair of pants you left near the sink. Well, he could just wear those, but that would mean he'd have to be indecent above the waist. "I don't have time to think about this, Maybe if I wake up before her, I'll get dressed. It'll be like this never happened."

His chiseled chest and biceps are exposed as he walks over to his side of the bed. "I don't sleep anyways, but this bed does feel nice right now." He closes his eyes, and for once, the exhaustion defeats him.

The sun is shining bright the following morning. He is the first to wake up. You have not moved from your spot. He wonders if you'll wake up anytime soon. He looks for his watch to look at the time; it's 11:45 am. He gets up to open the door to pick up the daily newspaper for the day, as he requested. On the front page:

The Palace Says: The Princess is Suddenly Ill. All Engagements in Rome Are Cancelled.

"People still believe in royalty?" he questioned to himself. He takes a look at the front page picture. A young woman wearing pearls and a tiara and a charming smile. "Let's hope she gets better soon, I suppose."

He sits on the desk, reading the paper quietly. You slowly begin to open your eyes, and you notice a difference in the lines on the bed. "This isn't the bed I went to sleep in last night." You look around and notice that the windows look different from the ones in the embassy. You look around some more, and then you see a man not wearing a shirt.

"Ahh! What are you doing in my room?" You're frightened.

He sees your face. "Shit, right. I was supposed to be dressed before she woke up. Remain calm, it's reasonable for her to react this way."

He chuckles, trying to simmer down the situation. "Apologies, miss. Do you not recall what happened last night?"

You try to remain calm, but your heart is racing. You're also distracted by the fact that an extremely handsome gentleman with tousled blonde hair is not wearing a shirt. However, he must not know this fact yet. "Oh no," you thought. "I'm also not wearing pants."

"Did we?…" You use your fingers to ask the obvious, but you have no memory of last night.

"Oh. Not at all. You have no memory of what happened?"

"I only remember that I got a shot in my arm, oh…"

"Yes?"

"I was given a stress reliever of some sort last night, and now I'm remembering…I ran away."

"Where are you running away from?"

"From a school trip. It was much too stuffy, and I was seeking freedom."

"You don't often hear of people running away from school trips."

You change the subject for a moment. "Would you mind closing your eyes and turning around for a moment? I must get changed."

He nods, staring at him directly as you grab your change of clothes. You slam the door to let him know that you are out of sight. Twilight goes back to focusing on the newspaper when he takes a look at the picture again. He realizes who was the start of his woes last night; you're the princess. He also realizes that you have no idea who he is, so for appearances sake, you can't know what he does. He has to think quickly to come up with a lie.

You come out of the bathroom dressed in yesterday's wardrobe. Your hair is pinned back, and you smile at him.

"Ah, much better. Thank you so much." You hand the shirt back to him, neatly folded. You try not to stare, but this is the first opportunity that you're alone with a man. Although he is also staring at you. "Got to admit, she is very adorable." He clears his throat to distract himself.

"If you don't mind..pr…I mean, miss, I need to get changed."

He quickly gets up and moves to grab his suit and change in the bathroom. You sit at the desk and notice the newspaper. It's your face on the front page cover. You twiddle your fingers, wondering if he has recognized you by now. If he did, he might take you back, and you can't have that.

Twilight steps out of the bathroom. While he was changing, he came up with an identity and a backstory to not blow his cover. He must not tell you that he is a spy.

"How impolite to not introduce myself. I'm Loid. Loid Forger."

You're unsure if you should tell him your regal name, but you can't do that. After a couple of seconds, you tell him your name.

"Lovely to meet you, miss," he says as you're both shaking hands.

"You said you ran away because you wanted freedom. What would your ideal day look like to you?"

"Oh, Mr. Forger, well, if I could, I'd go to an outdoor café, take the time to explore the sights, and then see where the day takes me. No real concrete plans or schedule, just freedom to do what I please."

"It's Loid. You know what? We can do that today."

"Don't you have work?"

"For today, I don't work. We're on holiday."

Together, you make your way out of the room. "Loid" goes to the front desk quickly to extend his stay in the room while you wait by the door. While they're processing the paperwork, he thinks to himself, "I know it would be good to return her to where she needs to be, but I don't see the harm in keeping her out for another day or so." The room is secured once more for the evening, and you head out.

You take in all the sights; people are out and about, eating, drinking, and smoking. "Is this what real people do every day?" you thought to yourself. You see a gelato stand and wonder what it'd be like to have gelato as the first meal of the day. "Do you have any money?" Loid asks.

"Me, money? No, I've never carried money before."

"How about this? I'll cover whatever costs for today."

"If you can, just tell me the final total, and I'll find a way to mail you what I owe you."

"If you'd like that, sure."

Both of you get a scoop each in a cone. The sun is blistering today, but the refreshing treat allows you to focus on how wonderful it all feels to be outside and not stuck in some stuffy, royal engagement. You walk side by side together, window shopping, and you see a barber shop. You see a couple of models with different styles of short hair, and look at the mirror and imagine yourself with short hair. You decide to walk inside. The barber immediately sits you down on the chair. "I want my hair to be short," you instruct.

"How short?"

"This short." You guide the barber with your hands to where you want it below your ear. You've always hated your long hair; it's such a hassle when getting ready for any event. The moment your hair falls on the floor, there's no going back. The barber works on styling, making sure that the cut perfectly frames your round face.

Meanwhile, Loid is outside and studies how you're reacting to the changes in your hair. You look petrified, but somehow you manage to smile and laugh. He doesn't necessarily know how to remain relaxed in this moment, but there truly isn't any harm in letting you have a little fun. He goes to stand in the shade and waits for you to signal him so he can pay for your haircut. However, once you're done, you run up to him.

"He just let me have a free haircut, but get this. He invited us to a party on a boat tonight. Doesn't that sound grand?" The dimple on your face is noticeable to Loid as you mention the details of where this party will be. You mention that there will be a live band and that they'll be playing different kinds of music. He is not listening very well, as his attention is on how happy you are at this moment. At this point, as you're about to walk, he offers his arm. While you're curious about the gesture, it feels natural in the moment, and your arm locks with his. You walk some more, and there's a shop that allows people to rent Vespas.

"What if we rent a Vespa to take a look at the sights?" He asks

"Oh, sure! I don't know how to ride one, though."

"I can, don't worry."

There's a thrill about having to place your hands on someone's waist while riding on a motorbike. He needs to have faith that you won't try to do anything while holding on to him, but you need to trust that he won't try to do something reckless while driving. He's driving around and pointing out the sights to you as you hold on gently. The breeze feels wonderful as he drives around, but your heart is racing because you're touching a man. You can feel the muscles on his torso, and it causes your face to feel hot. While driving around, he gets flagged by a traffic officer.

"Wait, here." Loid gets off to talk reasonably to the officer, and you're looking around. You decide to sit at the front and fiddle with the gears on the Vespa, and it moves forward.

"Ahh!"

Loid immediately sees you jetting off on the bike and runs after you to get on. He is now the one holding on for dear life. His eyes are wide as he's trying to see where you're driving towards. He tries to take a handle on the gears, but you place your hands on top of this.

"No, no! Please let me try!"

There is screaming and laughing coming from your end as you clumsily navigate the bike through the town square. You start to run through café patios and accidentally rip someone's painting. You try to remain on the main road but struggle to keep the balance. Loid is squeezing on to your waist as you drive, hoping that this isn't his last day on Earth. Sirens are heard, and he looks behind to notice that you have the police chasing after you. You got your bearings on driving the vehicle, but it was a little too late. You were pulled over and taken into custody.

The police don't recognize who you are, but Loid manages to smooth things over. He shows the police a fake ID showing that he is a member of the secret police and that you're his newlywed wife on your honeymoon. The police officer laughs, doesn't even challenge the validity of the identification. You're both off the hook, and you both walk towards a local cafe.

"What would you like, signora?"

"Can I have a glass of champagne, please?"

"Champagne? Whatever for?"

"Today is a celebration," you say with excitement.

His lips curl upward, and he doesn't try to discuss with you. You're happy; that's what matters.

"I'll just just have an espresso, thank you."

You both just look at each other for a moment. You're in awe of how kind he's been to you and doing everything you've ever wanted. Meanwhile, he's basking in how radiant you look, a smile so bright that the sun should be ashamed. Your short hair does compliment you; how rude of him, he hasn't complimented you.

"Your hair looks lovely. Do you like it?"

"Oh! Thank you! I love it! It feels a lot lighter and perfect for those pesky roy…"

He knows that you were about to tell him about your royal engagements. He knows who you are, but he doesn't want to ruin the day. When he thinks about it now, he has never really felt this relaxed, even with the Vespa incident.

Your drinks are served, and you decide to make a toast. "To a perfect day. Cheers."

"Are you married?" you ask him

"Me? No."

"You've never told me what you do for a living."

"I'm a doctor. I just happen to be on a trip, that's all."

"Oh? When is your trip over?"

"Tomorrow night."

"I suppose we have to make tonight the best one yet."

You don't know how long you'll be away from the embassy, but so far, you haven't been recognized by anyone, to your knowledge. The one person who knows who you are is sitting next to you, wondering why a royal princess ran away from her duties. After all, is it his place to ask what it's like to be royalty?

The sun starts to set. The night is young now, the party is soon to start. Loid settles the bill, with the both of you making your way to the docks to go to the party. He immediately notices the number of secret police present. He can identify them by the suits they're wearing, along with a certain type of hat. They could fool anyone, but they can't fool him. You remain unaware that you are being looked for.

You go up to greet the barber, who asks you to dance right away. Loid looks from a distance, paying attention to the way you dance. He notes that you move very stiffly, but that's probably due to the type of dances that you've been exposed to as a royal. You try to loosen up and end up laughing from being unable to relax with the music playing. The tune changes to something slower, and Loid cuts in. "May I have this dance?" You nod.

His hand rests on your waist, just the way it did earlier while you were on the Vespa. You're standing very close to one another, your breath hitching from how close you are to him. Due to the height difference, you look up, blushing from how handsome he truly is. The way that his hair is parted, his eyes have a soft gaze as he looks at you. You rest your head on his chest as the music sways you. The song ends; you clear your throat as you go around to greet other strangers. He goes to the bar to order a drink but keeps an eye on you. Another song starts with someone new dancing with you. You're not allowed to excuse yourself, so you're suddenly very uncomfortable, trying to keep a polite smile. ,

"We've been looking for you, princess."

The moment you hear the word, you try to get away, but the grip tightens. Loid immediately recognizes that the individual is part of the secret police.

"Excuse me, I need to talk to her right now," Loid makes an effort to politely interrupt the dance.

"That won't be necessary," the policeman says.

Your eyes look at Loid in horror, begging him to get you out of this situation. Loid understands, using force if necessary.

"I think she doesn't want to dance with you," cutting in between the two of you.

Loid shoves the man, starting a scuffle at this party. Punches are being thrown from left to right. Loid takes an opportunity to punch the man, but it escalates into a full-out brawl. Backup shows up, and the barber intervenes to help. You feel guilty that it's come to this, but you're not ready to go back. Two other policemen grab you to get you off the boat. Loid sees you trying to free yourself, but it's to no avail. He rushes to tackle one of the policemen while you are now able to push the other into the water, throwing a life raft just in case he can't swim. Loid grabs your hand, now running to try to get away. You are being chased by a group of them. You're able to outmaneuver some of them, but then eventually, one finds you and tries to grab you. Loid quickly punches him into the water, allowing both of you to keep running. Suddenly, another swarm is coming directly towards you. Feeling cornered, you decide to jump into the water to run away; he jumps in with you. You start to swim to the other side of the shore, away from all the commotion.

As you walk onto shore, you're shivering. It is freezing now compared to how hot it was earlier today. You break into laughter as his arm wraps around you; today, indeed has been an adventure.

"I know you're cold; come here." He takes you into an embrace, but you still don't stop laughing. He joins you in the laughter, noting the absurdity of the events that just took place moments ago. There is a pause as you gaze at each other. You start to lean in closer; he follows. You take a final look at his eyes right before you close yours. His lips press to yours. Your heart beats harder than any drum you've ever heard of. Your palm finds his face as you melt into the kiss, not wanting this moment to end. He releases you from the kiss and holds you tightly, with your lips accidentally making contact with the pulse point of his neck. He sighs, out of impulse and lack of control.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have done that. I…"

He leans forward again to kiss you, the hold on you becoming tighter. The kiss becomes hungrier, with your wet clothes clinging to your skins. Your hands travel to feel the nape of his neck while his arms wrap tighter around that perfect waist of yours. There's a pause, not one to stop but to indicate that both of you want this to go further than a kiss. He stands up and grabs your hand to hail a taxi. His leg shakes as he knows what's about to happen, but he is ever the gentleman; he needs to make sure you want this too. You've had kisses before, but you've never felt this type of excitement around the opposite sex.

You make it back to the room, standing at a distance from each other. You make the first move, kissing him again for a third time. This kiss feels different from all the other ones you've had. You feel pressure pooling in your stomach; something is building up, and you want it to be released. You remove his jacket, slowly starting to loosen his tie and unbutton his shirt. He unbuttons your top, wanting to press all the gentle kisses against your skin. He feels like a dog because he honestly was curious what it'd be like to kiss you between your breasts. However, you're not stopping him, giving him the consent that he needs to continue.

You're both topless at this point, moving towards the bed. He lays you down gently, pressing kisses on your neck. He's careful to not bite or suck on it, can't have a princess covered in love bites. On the other hand, how wonderful would it be if he was able to claim a piece of a princess for himself. He controls himself, focusing on caressing the nipples of your breasts as he remains attentive on kissing your lips. You have a beautiful smile, but he craves to be the one to make you smile right now. You're smiling in between each kiss, moaning as his fingers pinch your nipples, and you're suddenly craving more. You close your legs, trying to relieve the ache. He catches this, and he prevents you from trying to keep them closed. His hands move to go underneath your skirt, gasping as his hand finds your warmth. You pause the kiss just to look at him.

"Is this okay? We don't have to do anything you don't want to do."

"I want to, but i'm…I've never done this before."

"Don't worry. If at any point I do something and you want me to stop, I will."

You nod and kiss him again. His fingers travel to find the elastic of your underwear to tug and remove them. You gasp as his hand rests outside of your sex and starts to stimulate it. You moan and then pause the kiss as you've never done that before. He chuckles and moves to press his lips on your nipples. His hot tongue on your cold nipples is euphoric, with his hands and fingers making their way inside of you.

You gently tug his hair as the kisses become licks and nibbles around your breasts. When one finger finds its way inside of you, you gasp. The finger curls inside of you, causing you to whine.

"Please, please, I need more."

He inserts one more finger inside of you, and the pace quickens. The pressure that was building up is reaching a peak where you feel you can't contain it any longer. He laps your nipple faster, making eye contact with you. You can no longer control yourself, your back arches, and you feel relief. Your body is full of aftershock as he removes his fingers from you; he kisses you to create relief for you. He's so gentle to the touch, your arms wrapping around his neck to keep him close to you. He sits you up, looking at you.

"Do you want to take it further? We can stop if you want."

You look down and notice that his length is showing.

"You don't have to do anything you don't want to."

You feel bold and decide to sit on his lap and kiss him once more. You want to show him how much you desire him. You grind against him; he releases a soft moan. You pause and nod. "I think I want to keep going, if that's okay with you."

"Yes, it's completely okay."

He tries to find the zipper on your skirt so he could take it off you. Once he finds it, he motions to help you stand up so he can take it off. He pauses so he can remove his trousers, along with his underwear. You're both naked, and he takes control now. He lays you down and presses kisses along your soft tummy. He takes a few small nibbles from the side of your ribs, kisses your hips, and then kisses your abundant, angelic thighs. You react with whines and gasps every time, pushing him even further to the edge. He positions himself on top of you, directing his length towards your sex.

"Are you ready?"

"Yes."

He cups your face to kiss you as he enters you. You cry when you feel the pinch inside of you. "Are you okay? Do you want me to stop?" You shake your head as he continues to kiss you and goes further into you. The pain subsides; he starts to thrust gently. Your cry shifts into a moan as you feel the same pressure building up again. His tongue dances with yours; your hands start to travel to feel the rest of his body. Every time you touch his skin, he feels his body is on fire, wanting to give you everything you've ever wanted. He pushes harder into you, and this time, you moan very loudly. He smirks, feeling proud that he could bring that out of a royal princess. Faster and harder each time, you moan each time.

"Loid! Loid! Don't stop!"

He knows that's not his name, but saying his alias name makes him wish he could tell you everything about him. You want to tell him right now that you're a princess, but you don't this moment to be ruined. In this moment, you wish this was the only man for you. His hands grip tighter around your hips, and he can't hold back. He thrusts harder and faster, you're both moaning now from the pleasure.

"You feel so good right now, but where do you want me to finish?" He struggles to ask.

"You can't finish inside of me, sorry!"

He hears enough and continues to pump into her and pulls out the last second, releasing himself on the sheets. You're both out of breath as you lay next to each other. You giggle from how amazing this moment felt. You crawl towards him to kiss his lips. This intimate moment deepened something that had started last night. Your only wish is that it could last forever.

You both discuss how you're going to clean up. He lets you take a shower first before going to bed. Loid decided to turn on the radio to a news program. As you step out, you hear your regal name. "Her Royal Highness is yet to be seen; her country and her people depend on the success of this tour. With the last leg on pause, the country is feeling the anxiety and wondering if Her Royal Highness is in good health." You move to turn off the radio, and your expression tells Loid what he needs to know.

"I have to tell you something," he says.

The tears are welling up in your eyes. "Please, not now or today or ever. I don't want this day to end."

He holds you close, kissing your cheeks and your forehead. Initially, he thought this was just going to be another day with another stranger (who is a princess), but now he dreads the idea of never seeing you again. He experienced so much life in a day; for the first time in a long time, he felt he lived his life to the fullest. He doesn't want the night to end.

"I have to go now…" You sniffle. You grab your clothes and change. Loid proceeds to change and then makes a phone call to get a rental car at the last minute. He wants to make this last trip with you very personal.

He drives in silence as you sit with your hands clasped together. You know that this is over and that you'll never have a day like this ever again. He drives you to the designated area where you told him to drop you off. He makes it and then turns off the engine.

"This is it…I don't know how to say goodbye," your voice cracks.

"So don't," he says quietly.

You move your hand to open the door, but at the last second, you leap to embrace him. You can't help but release all the tears all at once. He holds on tighter, knowing that this will be the closest he'll ever have you again. He presses a kiss onto your lips one last time, so he can commit them to memory. He hopes that someday he'll be the reason you smile when you look back.

You release yourself from his embrace and walk towards the Embassy. He continues to look onwards and waits. After a couple of minutes, he turns the car on and leaves, only left with the memory of today.

You come back to your Personal Secretary asking you where you've been. A royal maid is present to get you out of your clothes.

"What did you do to your hair? What will they say?"

"As your princess, I demand that you stop asking me these questions. It's late, and we do have a long day tomorrow after all. You are all dismissed."

When you're left alone, you sob into the pillow to allow yourself to free yourself of this pain in your heart. You hope that he won't forget you at all and that he'll think about you once in a while. In the end, all you want is for him to be happy.

The next morning, you appear for a press conference. A majority of journalists are asking about you're well-being and if you're in better health today. You remain calm and unemotional; you've been trained to answer each question with eloquence and never to show any bias to one country.

"I'm here today for the people of my country and to represent my family in good faith. Thank you all for your kind wishes."

The last question comes from a journalist in the back, "Princess, is there any part of this tour that was your favourite?"

You look around and reflect on this question. Suddenly, you see him again. He's standing in the back. He remains unemotional, but the moment you make eye contact with him, his eyes become glassy. You can feel all the emotions from the day before come back, but you take a deep breath and remain calm. "Each country is significant..Rome." There is shock and chatter when you make this statement. "My favourite part of this tour was Rome. I shall cherish it and remember every moment for as long as I live." You kept eye contact with him as you made this statement. He knew that you meant him. You bid farewell to the press as you're on to the next part of your royal engagements. You look at him one last time before being escorted out.

That was the everlasting moment - The final moment where they will ever see each other again. All the small and significant caresses and kisses are just a memory now, never to be relived again.

He walks away, knowing that the only life he has is that of a spy. However, he's so grateful to her for allowing him to let himself go, even for one day.

[vampyreelf]

Condescending

Summary: Mickey is your boyfriend and he realises something about you and takes full advantage of it.

Mickey Altieri x Reader

Warnings: dumbification, Mickey is VERY patronising here, Clueless slander (I'm so sorry), just overall smut ig, overuse of the word bunny, let me know if I forgot anything else

Want me to make a Tag List? Here!

GIF by @coppoladelrey

Mickey loves to talk down at you, no matter what the subject is. But his favourite one is films,

he loves to talk about how your tastes in films is too common and how you need to learn more about it. You pretend that is simply a joke every time he does it, but the thing is that 

you know he isn’t and the worst part it? You love it, you love every single insult he throws at you and it makes you wet just thinking about it.

You loved Clueless, so you wanted to watch it tonight. You and Mickey are currently in his dorm room by yourselves, Derek went on a date with Sidney. Mickey had a serious problem in picking apart your taste in films and he wasn’t subtle about it, it came to a point where you hid your favourite films from him and only watching his “classic” films.

“Come on, bunny. This film is incredibly subpar, Paul Rudd was alright but other than just a convoluted plot that is kinda creepy.” Mickey still didn't let you put the tape on, he grabbed it from your hands and was keeping it away from you. “Underage girl that falls in love with her older step brother? You should know better than that, I can’t handle this. It’s kinda stupid coming from you.” He had his free hand on your thigh and he was looking at you with his head tilted forward, a low key Kubrick stare.

“I just want a good feel film that is pretty, alright?” You took a deep breath and looked at him, Mickey had huge grin on his face.

“Of course you do, you need to turn off your brain don’t you? Thinking is too hard for you, isn’t bunny? You need me to make all of the decisions for you, right?” Suddenly Mickey was behind you and he was pulling your dress and he pulled your panties to the side and he felt how wet you were. “You love when I talk to you like this, right? You love when I think for you, right bunny?” You nodded and Mickey laughed. “Oh, bunny you’re so fucking wet.” He inserted a finger in your cunt and you moaned putting your head on his shoulder, you opened your legs even further.

“Look at you, you can’t even reply to me. I only need my fingers to fuck you dumb, imagine how dumb I’m gonna make you after I pound your tight little pussy with my big fat cock.” He whishpered in your ear and you whimpered. “Oh, bunny.” He laughed condescendingly, and added a second finger and his thumb started making circles on your clit, you started moaning even loude, you tried to close your legs but Mickey didn't allow that. “Come on, bunny…you can take it.” His other arm grabbed your leg and kept it open, he picked up the rhythm and fingered you even harder.

Mickey could feel you clenching around his fingers, he looked at the mirror that Derek had on the dorm and he had full view of your cunt. “Come on bunny, cum all over my fingers.” The noises were so loud and as if it was on cue, you came hard. Mickey helped you ride out your orgasm, he slowly removed his fingers and put them on his mouth. “So tasty, bunny.” He hummed, after that he got on his knees and you felt his tongue on your clit and you moaned.

“Mickey, please…too much.” You groaned but he didn't stop, he kept eating you out and your hands went straight to his hair and Mickey pulled you closer with his arms around your hips, he was feasting on your pussy.

“You can take it, bunny. Cum on my tongue for me.” His ministrations were quick and he was watching you fall apart, your back was arching, your breath was shallow and Mickey was loving every second of it. He grazed your clit with his teeth and that made you jump but Mickey kept you in place. “You look so cute like this, bunny. Completely on my mercy, you look so fucking hot.” 

Your pussy was clenching over nothing, and you could tell that another orgasm was approaching. You were pulling Mickey’s hair and he groans, he loves when you do that. You came again, and Mickey didn't waste any time and started slurping on your pussy and he never stops looking at you, while you can’t keep eye contact. After riding out your orgasm again, Mickey gets up and you see his huge cock hard on his trousers, it looked like it hurt.

“Can I suck your cock, Mickey? Please?” Your mouth was watering looking at the outline of his cock, and Mickey laughed.

“You’re so cock drunk, aren’t you bunny? Come here.” He started removing his trousers and his cock sprung free and you quickly put his cock in your mouth and Mickey loved to see you so desperate for his cock. “Just like that, bunny.” You hollowed your cheeks and started sucking his cock, Mickey started groaning, your mouth felt like heaven, he held your hair in a makeshift ponytail and he started fucking your throat. 

Tears were started falling and Mickey wiped it with his thumb, you could feel yourself getting wetter by the second. “Keep your eyes on me, bunny.” You readily obey and kept your eyes on him, he looked so hot with his mouth in an o shape and messy hair. Mickey threw his head back and started fucking your throat in with a reckless abandon again. “Fuck, bunny your mouth feels like heaven. FUCK.” Mickey felt that he was going to cum, and he only cums deep inside your pussy so he pulled your head away from his cock, as soon as you lost contact with his cock you started pouting and Mickey laughed.

“Sorry, bunny but you know that I only cum on your tight little pussy.” Mickey pulled you and started kissing you. “I want you on all fours, bunny.” You quickly got on your hands and knees, Mickey slapped your ass and you moaned at the sensation.

He rubbed the head of his cock on your clit before thrusting inside your cunt and you screamed and moaned, his cock always streched you out no matter how many times Mickey fucked you it always streched you out so well. Mickey grabbed your hips and started fucking you hard, you grabbed the sheets and bit your lip and he saw that and did not like it. “Don’t you dare hide those noises from me, bunny.” A needy whine and moan escaped you and Mickey growled, his thrusts were getting faster, he grabbed your hair pulled you closer, your back touching his chest.

“Look at how dumb you get when I’m fucking you, bunny.” Mickey pointed at the mirror and you saw how disheveled you looked with your mouth open panting and moaning. “I know how much you love being my dumb slut, bunny.” You whined at his words and you clenched around his cock. “See, I can feel your tight little pussy clenching around me. You always think too much, bunny. And I love fucking you stupid, you need it, you crave it don’t you bunny?” You whined again and nodded your head, unable you speak and Mickey loved every second of it.

“Need to cum, Mickey.” He knew exactly what that meant, but he loved to see how desperate you to cum.

“You want me to play with your little clit, bunny?” You nodded desperately, Mickey’s thrusts never faltered and it was too much but at the same time not enough. “I know you’re gonna cum all over my cock as soon as I start playing with you little clit.” Mickey started rubbing hard circles on your clit and watched you scream and moan through the mirror.

“Mickey.” You screamed and started squeezing his cock cumming all over it, Mickey’s hand went on your throat, not squeezing it but as a sign of ownership. After he helped you ride out your orgasm, Mickey started chasing his own, you choked on your own throat and you were starting to get exhausted.

“Bunny, look at you…you were made to be mine, you were made to be fucked. You’re too dumb to think on your own, you don’t need to think about anything, you just need my cock slipping you open.” You felt his thrusts getting sloppier and he was grunting and moaning.

You felt the thick ropes of cum inside you, that’s when Mickey stopped and you felt his cock pulsating inside you still. He finally disconnected from you and Mickey grabbed some wet wipes and started wiping the cum off of you, you hissed at the cold wipes on your abused pussy but after a moment it felt good.

“Are you alright, bunny?” Mickey your head and looked at you with nothing but devotion and love in his eyes.

“Yeah.” You nodded smiling at him and he kissed you, it was slow and passionate unlike a few moments before.

“Aren’t you such a good girl?” You got hot over the praise and you hid on his chest, you were starting to get tired so you yawned and Mickey knew that you gone for the night. 

“I love you so much, Mickey.” You confessed already closing your eyes.

“I love you too, bunny. I’ll be here when you wake up.” He kissed your forehead again and sleep overtook you quickly.

After a few minutes, Mickey got up from his bed and started to get ready. He got his mask and voice modulator ready, it wouldn’t take too long he only needed to kill one person tonight and it was on campus. Whilst Mickey got ready, he observed you sleeping and he wasn’t ready to fall in love with you but you took him by surprise by warming your way into his heart.

Mickey was going to talk with Mrs. Loomis, he doesn’t want to get caught anymore, he wants a life with you. And after finishing killing he went straight to his dorm and you were still sleeping peacefully, and he didn't break his promise, he was there when you woke up.

[proxylynn]

[In 1987, Litwak's Family Fun Center and Arcade on Route 83 got a new game... "Danger Dan, the Action Man!" This was a knockoff of "The Adventures of Bayou Billy" but with some tweaks to make it its own thing.

The plot: Daniel Storm, otherwise known as Danger Dan, has been boasting of his exploits and bravado much to his girl-friend's, Lynn, annoyance. A rouge gang, in retaliation for hearing Dan trash-talking them, kidnaps Lynsie in order to lure Dan into putting his money where his mouth is. Dan's quest to save Lynsie consists of ten stages that take him across the country, as he battles thugs and eventually arrives at the gang's HQ to come face-to-face with the big boss himself.

A normal by-the-book "rescue the damsel" type game which was the standard in that era and one that wasn't too hard to either. Which, for a time, kept it fairly popular with kids as the ease of difficulty made it less frustrating when GAME OVERs happened. But by the 1990s, older kids started to turn away from such games. Rescue the Girl games were seen as lame, and when the character lore didn't match, it made things worse.

"Lynsie "Lynn" is Dan's partner and crush. A soft-spoken brawler with a heart of gold; she met Dan rather awkwardly...Saving him when he was ganged up on after running his mouth to a group of bikers. Taking pity on him and thinking his smugness was kind of endearing, she acts as the peacekeeper to Dan's pride so he isn't beaten to a pulp daily."

This made no sense to players considering the game had her waiting at the end of every stage, in a room, by herself, and merely taken away again when Dan reached the end. She was built up to be strong but the game made her helpless, used like bait dangled to keep Dan going as if she was a reward.

By 1993, "Danger Dan, the Action Man!" was unplugged and removed from the arcade after the game had softlocked in a state that even resetting couldn't fix. To the people of the arcade, it was sad to see one of the older games go. But the reality was way sadder than any would know.]

[In the game was a different story. Lore and programming clashed as Lynsie and Dan were the opposite of what the game implied. They weren't friends, that died after the first year the game was plugged in. Hell, Dan resented Lynsie, the idea that she was stronger than him but he had to save her pissed him off. Lynsie hated her situation, feeling helpless as her program made her timid and prone to being easily intimidated. Something Dan would take advantage of to keep her under control and in the game while he would go out to socialize.

Things only got worse when the players started making comments about the inconsistency and making criticizing remarks. This only made Dan more abusive and degrading to Lynsie. But there's only so much pressure a mind can take before snapping. After hearing another snarky player complain about how she was bad for just letting herself be taken then followed by Dan reinforcing how she was pathetic and only good for just standing around, she broke. She broke free of her program and of the level, running from Dan while the player could only question what was going on till the screen froze when she hit Dan into objects he couldn't interact with during gameplay.

Once in Game Central Station, she was lost and sought help, but none would go near her. In the years of her isolation, Dan had made a good reputation for himself with the other games and painted her poorly. That and, she was in the dark about an incident that happened shortly before her game was brought in. So when she tried to tell her side, she'd be shot down for either slandering Dan or for "going Turbo".

Homeless and now in a strange place with people who don't trust her, she isolated herself to avoid persecution, delving deep into places not frequented. It was there in the bowels of Game Central Station that she would be found by another in a similar state as her... Turbo. At first, his plan was to gain her trust and use her as a disposable tool, something to make his own situation a little better till he could find something better. But as the years went by, that idea changed. She changed. She grew bitter that the others dismissed her without bothering to understand her side. So when Turbo offered her a chance to take part in his plans, she took it.

Out of her game, her forced submissive program was gone and her true strength came out. She didn't back down to him when he got snippy and called him out when it was clear he was doing/did something wrong. Yet when it came to hearing him out about what happened with RoadBlasters she, to his surprise, didn't think less of him. Sure, she ragged on him for doing something so impulsive and reckless, that was a given, but that's it. And when she opened up about what happened to her he genuinely felt sympathy, and coming from him that was something. He came to respect her.

One day in 1997, the news spread of a new racing game coming to the arcade. This was the moment Turbo was waiting for, the reason he had been learning a thing or two about coding from the missions he'd been sending her out on to gather information. So while other games were busy with their own worlds, the moment that "Sugar Rush" was plugged in, the pair immediately sneaked into the game and took it over before any players had a chance to play it. This was a chance to start over. To reinvent themselves. To have lives they can be happy with. Turbo, with his love of importance and pride, became King Candy, the top racer and monarch of the kingdom. Lynsie, wanting to be useful but avoiding player attention, became Lindell Coco, the royal maid and secret enforcer of the King.

And it worked. With everyone's memories locked up, the pair were just normal parts of the game. No more hiding. No more lurking in the shadows. No more feeling empty and disconnected. They had a game to call home. This was THEIR game. And all it took was to ruin the life of a little princess whose home they now occupied as theirs.

Sure hope nothing bad happens.]

{Once again, I created a self-insert with a fucked up history. Why do I do this to versions of myself?! *sigh* For Lynn's design; I wanted to go for strong but approachably warm. She's sweet but miserable, masking her pain with a smile. With Lin; I took some aspects of my original concept, the redesign sketch from my friend @cdream25, and the uncanniness of Victorian porcelain maid dolls. She is almost eerily nice, sugarcoating her actions while being snarky and cold when pushed.

I like the idea of her being protective Turbo/King Candy and harboring feelings for him but is uncertain if the feelings are real or not, unsure if what she feels is just due to being with him for so long or if he coded her this way when they implemented themselves into the game. Like, Turbo found her and saw vulnerability, using their isolation and familiarity to mold her into making him her prerogative. Considering he reprogrammed Sugar Rush to all connect to him, it would be so like him to do so with her too. So it's an internal turmoil.

Speaking of which, she is connected to him in the code (represented by the candy wrapper bow), so when he glitches out as he does in the movie she does too. I kinda envision this leading to her having a fight with Calhoun when her true identity is revealed, because, why not have two powerful women fight? Double boss fight, that's why! I haven't settled on how her fate goes, whether she dies or not, but that's not important to me at the moment. I hope to thoughts that have read this far that you like this wacky gal of mine.}

{For a bonus, the raw pics of them so you can see all the details.}

[the-garbanzo-annex-jr]

The American appeasement of Iran has left many people mystified. They should have been paying more attention.

Twelve days before the October 7 pogrom, Jay Solomon reported on the Semafor site that Ariane Tabatabai, chief of staff to the Assistant Secretary of Defence for Special Operations and Low Intensity Conflict, was part of an “Iran Experts Initiative” created by senior Iranian foreign ministry officials to bolster Tehran’s position on global security issues, particularly its nuclear programme. 

In other words, Tabatabai was an agent of influence for Iran, at the heart of the US government and with the highest level of security clearance.

Semafor and the Iranian opposition group Iran International had obtained a large cache of Iranian government correspondence and emails. These revealed that in 2021 Robert Malley, who was the point man on Iran under both the Obama and Biden administrations until he was removed in June 2023 following a still unexplained “mishandling of classified materials,” had infiltrated Tabatabai into the US State Department to assist him in his negotiations with Iran. 

The day Solomon’s article appeared, 31 US Senators wrote to the Defence Secretary, Lloyd Austin, to express their concern. They wrote: “We find it unconscionable that a senior department official would continue to hold a sensitive position despite her alleged participation in an Iranian government information operation”.  

They noted that in March 2021, shortly after Tabatabai was appointed senior adviser to the undersecretary of state for arms control and international security, Iranian dissidents had reported her long history of echoing the Iranian regime’s talking points.

Indeed, that month Adam Kredo reported in the Washington Free Beacon on these dissidents’ shock at Tabatabai’s appointment. They claimed she had parroted the regime’s position in multiple public appearances, and that her father was part of Iranian President Hassan Rouhani’s inner circle.

In April 2021, several House members requested a review of Tabatabai’s security clearance. In response, the Biden administration dismissed these claims as “smears and slander”.

Even more astonishingly, Tabatabai runs the office overseeing hostage negotiations. Three weeks after the October 7 pogrom, a reporter asked the White House spokesman, John Kirby, whether it was appropriate for Tabatabai to be in such a position given the claims made against her.  Kirby stalled. Tabatabai is still there. 

Online, several commentators (including myself) wrote about this. The mainstream media studiously ignored it.

In the past few days, they’ve ignored another vital revelation. 

[pinkkfluff]

intro post!

im 18, bi, and not looking for a f33der!! i prefer to interact with people around my age range (18+). those older can still view my content but please dont try to dm me!

i love being tagged in posts or being sent posts people think i would enjoy!

pls let me know if i need to remove any reblogs from my page!!

dms are closed atm (open for moots) because ive been getting a lot of scammers and weird messages :(

LIKES:

br33ding/pr3gnancy ● hyp3rpr3g/hyp3rgain ● expans1on (full body, especially stomach & br3asts) ● b0ndage ● r0ughness ● wlw content ● infl@ti0n ● weight ga1n & overall chubb1ness/fatn3ss ● being d0min@ted/content involving it ● playful t3asing (comments like "look how big you are", "such a p1ggy", etc) ● s3x content and stories can be with any genders as long as theres a girl in it, and preferrably shes the main focus ● water/fluid stuff1ngs

DISLIKES:

any kind of video or photo content centred around men (s3xual or not) ● d3ath f33dism/f33derism or any kind of health problems related such as full immobility or needing scooters ● slander or harsh words- playful t3asing is good but keep it impersonal and still respectful, dont say things like "you were better before", "youve gotten ugly", etc ● any kind of play with bod1ly flu1ds or f3ces ● intense food stuff1ngs, especially messy ones

i will most likely tweak this a bit overtime! feel free to send me an ask if you need specifications on something! <3

[winwintea]

isn’t it crazy that we have free will, london? :)

yes i do in fact have free will so here’s a tmi that no one asked for because i have no one to tell this to irl

so i was basically in my art history class and suddenly this lady, her husband, her daughter, and the dean of the school comes into our classroom. they’re here because they want their daughter to see an art classroom (my professor teaches art as well)

and yknow everything is fine until I TAKE A DOUBLE TAKE TO LOOK AT THIS WOMAN AND HOLY SHIT.

THIS LADY. THIS SCUMMY HUMAN BEING. CAUSE SHE DOSEN’T EVEN DESERVE THE TITLE OF ‘LADY’. SHE’S batshit crazy insane. her name is bridget ziegler idgaf i’m name dropping her and she’s like this crazy conservative lady who served on the school board for my old school district. she ran like an anti-lgbtq campaign in schools so she’s like a really bad person.

also she harassed/bullied/stalked/slandered one of the guys i went to school with because he was our school’s first openly gay president (he was a minor too yipee!!!)

WHATS CRAZY IS ABOUT 2 YEARS AGO SHE WAS CAUGHT HAVING A THREESOME WITH HER HUSBAND AND ANOTHER LADY.

so yeah she’s a fucking hypocritical bitch.

also her husband used to be the chairman of the florida republican party and then he was removed bc of the whole threesome thing, so L.

ANWYAYS NO ONE RECOGNIZED THEM AND I HAVE NO ONE TO TELL THIS TO. BUT IDK WHY THEY’RE TOURING MY COLLEGE IM LOWKEY SCARED WTF

[ghostietea]

I think some people need to get it through their skulls that settler colonialism is an inherently genocidal system. Calling for an end to the violence but not a return of Indigenous land is simply a call for the genocide to continue in a quieter and more polite fashion.

I don't think a lot of people realize that the genocide of Indigenous people worldwide living under settler colonialism is ONGOING. You CANNOT truly see the end of a colonial genocide without an end to the colonialism. As long as Indigenous people are alive, colonizers will find a way to justify and deny genocide because the foundation of 'their' country necessitates the removal and subjugation of the Indigenous population. Indigenous survival is an act of rebellion, one you MUST believe in. You cannot give up on Indigenous people or believe that they are gone, no matter how hard colonizers try to wipe them out. You cannot trust the slander colonizers will spew about how they had to do what they did, about how Indigenous people are all savages who are coming for their women and children, or are somehow unworthy of their country. You can't trust colonizers' fearmongering about how a return of Indigenous land will result in the expulsion and death of all settlers. You CAN'T believe colonizers when they say what they're doing isn't genocide.

The playbook of settler colonialism is old, barely updated because the forces of greed and racism inherent to it have yet to be properly deconstructed. I'm seeing the same tactics used in the genocide of my people that started hundreds of years ago being broadcast live to the world and some people are STILL going along with it. Time and time again people like to 'forget' that it is plainly and explicitly to the benefit of colonizers to dehumanize the colonized so they can steal what is rightfully theirs without opposition and then lie about what they did. As long as the colonial system remains, colonizers have motivation to destroy the Indigenous population physically and culturally, they'll just get less obvious about it. Call this what it is and DON'T be satisfied until the land is returned to its rightful stewards. Palestine MUST be free, you either support decolonization or you support genocide 🇵🇸

[mrabubu]

what happened between you and Dork? (WS) I don’t want to pry at all, but iv just been genuinely curious and also confused as to why the art all got removed and seemingly for "hateful comments?" If you don’t feel comfortable enough answering that’s totally fine, but man some context would be super helpful.

Uuuuh, okay this part is just me venting a bit...

Yeah, I get that people would like some context,

I'm just still nervous/scared? For how people interpret words.

And I've already been told (because they blocked me so I can't see for myself) dork promised that if people start to "slander" them, they will "drop receipts", despite our dialogue being kinda personal thing, I guess. So I'm just trying not to trigger/provoke them, and just trying to distance my thoughts from all this, but at the same time it's hard considering that WS had a big inspiration/mental help/influence on me and it became kinda my routine for almost half a year to read new chapters, follow other updates and do stuff, and now I can't, not only because I'm tossed out of their blog, but also because

Well

It hurts? After all that situation.

The situation:

We had a dialogue during which expressed different opinions on a certain topic. For them it was enough to wanting to stop associating and communicate with me. So I decided if they don't want to associate with me, then, please, take down my art. At least, it's logical. If you don't want to have anything to do with a person then you'd like to clean your work space from any reminders of them. And just in case, so no one would thought I forced dork to remove drawings they payed for, I drew those for free. Just because I wanted. It wasn't about the money.

Plus with their reaction and the "hateful comments" notes (though I don't know what was hateful about asking to take down my art. I don't believe I was rude or anything), I wanted my fanart to be gone too, because I don't want them to be taken for granted and promote work of someone who wants nothing to do with me.

I'm not encouraging any more association, just leave it be. Right now I'm just trying to distract myself.

Thanks for understanding.

[missandrisky]

Apology to Feminists

As prideful as I may be I am capable of admitting when I am wrong and I shall do so. I presumptuously conflated feminism (specifically radical feminism) with Female separatism on the basis that both of them hinge on the call for “radical re-ordering of society in which male supremacy is eliminated in all social and economic contexts” as in order for Females to truly be allowed to separate from our oppressors our oppressors must not hold power over us in said contexts. What I did not realize was that no branch of feminism extends to ALL Females (including the ‘deplorable’ and ‘disgusting’ ones who engage in sex work) not even radical feminism. To be a Female is to have to perform to expectations whether they are from males or your fellow Women; and if you just so happen to ‘perform for men’ whether you sell your actual body, pornography or just hate speech you are just as vile as the men. Whether you must engage in the system that oppresses you for survival or not your means do not justify the end if they are not virtuous and completely free of hypocrisy.

The vitriol I have received from butthurt narcissist moids and self-righteous feminists alike (who both hate my content) has led to me having a much needed breakthrough. I am NOT a feminist, I am a Female separatist/liberationist. I simultaneously call for the removal of males from power (dismantling of patriarchy) while fighting for Women to found our own spaces AND not judging the ways in which women navigate the patriarchy (which includes sex workers) regardless of its appropriateness or hypocrisy. My use of feminist tags was more so for networking than actually representing any specific movement and I should have made that more clear. Moving forward (beginning from this post) I will not be using the tags on any post that is also directed at the moid audience I collect funds from as well. I will also be creating a separate blog where I post most of my feminist-adjacent posts and describe my community projects (currently fighting the city for a Female-only shelter).

So, I apologize for the following things:

- conflating radical feminism with Female separatism/liberation

- using feminist tags on posts that my moid cucks also see/engage with

- not making it more clear that I do not see myself as a typical representation of radical feminism

That all being said I would also like to issue a sincere FUCK YOU to all the miserable imbeciles that refuse to do an ounce of actual investigation or interact with myself personally before engaging in actual slander. You make Women look just as ignorant as males while you accuse me of being one simply because I don’t fit your monolith.

XOXO,

Miss 💋

[iristial]

The KingOhgers are all connected through marriage and spiritual family ties -> late night thoughts of an imaginative person who doesn't keep up with canonical lore and ignores it as she pleases

Canonically Racules is married to Suzume, which makes him and Gira in-laws to Kaguragi, and if either Hastie brother has children then Kaguragi would be their uncle

Personally I'm not a big Racules fan + there's some holes to him being "good all along" (even though the lead writer did set it up so his motivations could've gone two different directions (and in a very Yuya Takahashi fashion imo)). But I'm also a sucker for a big brother loving his little half-alien spawn brother so much - even more than the kid's actual father - that he would defile his own hands to keep him free from corruptive influences, and maybe I tried very hard not to swoon over his cliff scene with Suzume xD

I like to think Gokkan used to be a proper kingdom under Jeramie's father before he eloped/got exiled and the vicious in-fighting resulted in the original royal family being wiped out. Thus Gokkan is re-established as an elaborate high court and the crown (now just a formality) is passed down to worthy candidates rather than inherited by blood, though there's nothing wrong with a candidate being their predecessor's relative

Many Gokkan citizens would end up migrating to Ishabana, which is why "Moffun and Friends" is produced there

My point being, Jeramie is Gokkan's last "true" heir and Rita is part of the new rule. But Jeramie's more interested in maintaining human-Bugnarok relations, the kingdom has changed so drastically that what little of the original culture that Jeramie remembers is gone, and he despises sitting in an office all day, so his interest of reclaiming his birthright is little to zero

He will claim he has a "spiritual connection defying bloodlines" (affectionate, kinda trolling) to Rita and Rita will correct him every time (exasperated, gradually affectionate)

Jeramie: Back in my day, paperwork could have romance too Rita: You mean creating loopholes to increase taxes? Jeramie:

Also Morphonia is the previous king's daughter

Gira and Rita. If you know me, you know

Therefore Racules is in-laws with the high judge who slapped him. This prospect has entertained me for the longest time

They can't even make small talk without being painfully awkward because Racules no longer has reason to pretend being a jerk so he doesn't know what to say (and maybe he flinches a little whenever Rita removes a glove lol). Also Rita is not built to have social connections beyond ten select people; it's a work in progress

Girita both like children, are quite good with them and wouldn't be opposed to having them, but at the end of the day they would adopt or pass the throne down to a competent successor/Racules' kid

Jeramie would be a godfather. Who he'll read bedtime stories to and help them hide from the royal tutors by hanging from spiderweb hammocks is unknown. Regardless, he will be a loving godfather to someone and they will love him

Something in my blood says Himeno and Yanma are meant to be, even if I don't have strong feelings for this pairing. Their citizens would probably have a bet on how long it'll be until they formally acknowledge their union, with predictions varying from when they have a child and accept they can't put everyone who calls the little darling illegitimate under house arrest with poor wi-fi signal because I'll sneak in and strangle the blasphemous slanderer myself to until Yanma-kun tells Her Majesty that he loves a little arson while rolling in the soil in the second ring of the underworld and not to be pushy but I prefer having the skin on my bones when that happens please and thank you

There's an allure to the Yannhime kid becoming interested in agriculture. Not that their parents wouldn't be supportive but it would dismay them a little that they spent years debating whether their kid would prefer medicine or technology, and said kid picked up a shovel one day and decided a farm is the best place in the world. They'll find a way to make it work