#I cannot describe my feelings okay I don’t like being wronged by someone so many times and not knowing when to leave them alone

[ohimsummer]

ate breakfast and then fell asleep for four hours (I feel Off)

[fitzells]

TW SA AND SPIKING //

This is something that has been weighing on my mind for a while now, I’m not expecting much interaction with this or any sort of agreement; however I feel as though if I do not get it out of my system I’ll just implode or something.

I think the recent incline of ‘dark’ smut fics that include drugging and noncon is quiet alarming. While I understand the use of content warnings are in place and it’s a ‘read at your own risk’ situation; I can’t help but feel writing these fics at all is generally quite twisted? I’m fully aware that everybody has their own kinks and the consumption of content is up to the reader. However, I feel as though reading stories like these are causing a misconception around the topic of spiking and sexual assault.

I’ve witnessed people on tiktok and tumblr explicitly saying that they want to be drugged, and want to be assaulted. I’m not trying to pull the victim card; or make any situation about me, however as someone who was spiked; and raped while drugged, this illusion is downright disgusting.

I know people sometimes write these stories as a way of reclaiming what happened to them; and while I do not fully understand that, that is most definitely not something for me to take from you. My issue is how many readers are now romanticising this, and how people are now considering it some sort of act of love, or infatuation.

This is not okay, I think more people need to fully understand and ensure their readers understand how wrong this action is. It was undoubtedly the worst thing that has ever happened to me, and many people like me, and I think while these are obviously fictional stories; it is our responsibility to ensure that people know these stories are fiction, and that this is completely unacceptable to take place in real life. Being drugged, and/or sexually assaulted, is not something that should be desired by anybody. And I think that describing this as something people want, is also reinforcing an idea that this is okay. Stories like these, and comments like these, may be read by the wrong people; and I think we need to be careful of this. I cannot tell people what they can and cannot write, however I am merely hoping writers of these types of stories are applying suitable and clear content warnings and monitoring their comments and ensuring no overt romanticism of these situations.

Again, I don’t get much interaction on posts other than fics and things, so I’m fully expecting zero notes; and I don’t mind in the slightest. I just needed this to be out of my system, and on my account for people to be able to read.

if anyone does happen to see this: my dms are always open if you need to talk about anything at all, related to this subject or otherwise

[cordycepsfem]

I genuinely can’t wrap my head around why the TQ are against therapy instead of blockers? Like surely as empathetic human beings you’d want to make sure that a child isn’t making an irreversible mistake? I guess you can blame the propaganda that they’re safe (funny how prone to misinformation the TQ is).

But I just don’t get it. Surely if a child/teenager is suicidal about something that is not real (gender) then a therapists office is the best place they can be? Not to mention help with any other problems at home they might be dealing with.

Why is irreversible medication the go to? Why is hating your body so desperately just accepted? We don’t tell people with anorexia they should stay thinner, we don’t tell depressed people ‘yeah you should just kill your self’.

What makes gender so special? What makes it more desperate than other mental health issues that it needs to bypass therapy altogether? But I guess in a way that makes it kind of tragic.

Anon, I wish I had answers for you.

Like many of us, I’m sure, I have a past with mental illness, self harm, and suicide. Never once did a professional tell me to continue to harm myself, to stop taking medications that were helping me feel better, or to go through with suicide. Their goal was to help me live through those dark times, find ways to help me, and teach me coping skills that would help me in the future. Not once was I told to leverage my suicidal ideation into basically blackmailing others into doing what I wanted… because that’s abusive.

I feel like part of it, as you said, has to do with a lot of misinformation surrounding things like “puberty blockers.” There’s also a huge social issue to consider - if parents are less than supportive, or if they don’t immediately jump to acquiescing to everything their child wants, there’s backlash. “Would you rather have a dead daughter than a living son??”

But by the time children get to that point, where they’re demanding X and Y or else - that’s a sign of serious mental health issues, not gender dysphoria, and those issues should be treated with therapy. I also think there’s a lot of “social transitioning” going on, where teens are finding these “identities” that are not indicative of gender dysphoria but are ways to control how others think about them and the words they use to describe them, like “non-binary” or “demiboy.” Those don’t require drugs, necessarily, but they demand an attitude change and special attention.

And there’s still a contingent of parents who are attempting to “trans the gay away” despite their child being very young - too young to know their sexuality. Swishy, feminine boys don’t always turn out to be gay, and even if they did, that’s okay. Tomboys and girls who dare to like “boys’ things” don’t always turn out to be lesbians, but again, if they did, that would be okay. Homophobia is driving a lot of people - either parents or individuals themselves - to look into transition. See Jazz Jennings for a real-time look into that phenomenon.

I cannot understand why parents accept the risk for their children and give them off-label dangerous drugs, followed by cross-sex hormones. They are giving up their child’s chance at full emotional, mental, and physical growth; any chance of sexual pleasure, orgasm, and fertility; and they’re doing it all on a pathway that is irreversible for the most part.

When I have conversations with some trans people or trans allies, I’ve had people tell me that I’m wrong and cruel for not transitioning and instead using therapy to handle my gender dysphoria and body dysmorphic disorder. Despite all of the evidence out there, for some reason magic pills and surgeries are going to cure a mental health issue better than therapy.

I don’t really pray anymore, but if I did, I’d pray for the children who were wrongly trans’ed to be able to sue their parents and doctors in the future. They lost their chance at a normal childhood and a full adulthood, and someone deserves to pay for it.

[banannabethchase]

Claudio/Yuta mamma mia honeymoon ocean sex

Honey, to Say the Least, You're a Doggone Beast - also on AO3

~

Wheeler and Claudio finally arrive to their cottage for their honeymoon. What else is there to do but each other?

~

Bingo square N3 Marriage Fic, completed! Technically a cheat, since I already wrote them actually getting married and this is their honeymoon, but I'm counting it Because I Say So. Title from Honey Honey by ABBA.

~

They’d decided early on that Wheeler would be in charge of managing the honeymoon, since he was so dismally distanced from the wedding planning.

“It’s not my fault,” he’d said, staring panicked at a website describing linen options he couldn’t even pronounce, “I don’t even know what taffeta is.” He’d stared up at Claudio, confused. “Can you – can you and my dad and Renee take care of this? I don’t think I can do it.”

So the job fell on him to come up with a honeymoon to match the wedding.

As they step off the plane into the tropical paradise, Wheeler’s unable to keep from feeling cocky. He absolutely nailed it this time.

“This is incredible,” Claudio says, scanning the area. “How did you even find this place?”

Wheeler shrugs, trying to keep his smile for being too smug. “I know what you like. Other than snow with remote cabins, of course.”

Claudio gazes around the place. “Remote cabin? Yes.” His eyes settle on the blue ocean stretching out in front of them. “Snow? Not in the slightest.” He pulls Wheeler in, pressing a kiss to his temple. “Incredible job, darling.” His lips turn to Wheeler’s ear. “I cannot wait to do terrible things to you in our private cabin.”

Wheeler grins and feels himself blush pink. “Likewise.”

They stay touching the entire ride to the little row of cabins, the cabbie chatting the whole way.

Wheeler can’t focus on anything but his excitement – ten days on their own. No gym, no work, no distractions. All the two of them.

He throws the driver a smile as he and Claudio yank their suitcases up the road to the cabins.

“This is truly gorgeous,” Claudio says. “Number 215, correct?”

Wheeler nods, looking around. The ring of little cabins with paths give plenty of running areas, but also plenty of space between each family. He grins. He might be able to be loud tonight.

“Wheeler, you are thinking so loudly.” Claudio catches him by the waist. “You almost walked past our home for the week.

“Right!” Wheeler pulls out his phone for the digital unlock. He pushes the door open, Claudio gasps.

“Okay, I was wrong,” Claudio says, scooting in past Wheeler and looking around. “This is gorgeous.” He chucks the luggage down near the bed then takes Wheeler’s hand. “Let’s explore.”

Wheeler was hoping for something a little less…public, but any time with Claudio will do.

They got in early, the red eye jet lag being beaten by sheer excitement, and the noon day sun sparkles across the water in a way that feels pretty damned fairy tale. The step out onto the dock near the front door.

“Is it weird we’re on a different beach when we live by the ocean?” Wheeler asks. “It feels weird.”

“Near our beach, we’re never this alone,” Claudio says. He grabs Wheeler by the waist and hauls him in. “Always someone pestering.” He leans in, kissing Wheeler thoroughly, intentionally. Wheeler soaks in it. Claudio’s right – there’s no one there to interrupt them.

Wheeler pulls back. “I’m so glad we checked luggage. I have so many ideas for this week.”

Claudio lights up. “Ideas? What kind of ideas?”

Wheeler grins, grabbing Claudio’s wrist. “Why don’t you find out.”

“Actually.” Claudio toes off his sneakers and peels off his socks. “Come on, husband. Let’s go for a swim.”

Wheeler stares at him. “I had much more naked ideas.”

Claudio’s grin goes a little devious, a little intentional, and then he’s running at Wheeler. With a tackle around the waist, the two of them fly backward into the warm, blue water with a splash a cannonballing child would be jealous of. Wheeler expects to flail in the water as he tries to find the surface, but sure arms haul him back upward.

“You’re such a douchebag,” Wheeler laughs, flipping the hair out of his eyes. “I can barely see!” He pats Claudio’s head. “You don’t have that problem.”

“Rude,” Claudio says, and he dives under the water to grab one of Wheeler’s legs, but Wheeler is ready. He hooks the other leg around Claudio’s waist and thrusts his hips forward. Claudio makes a desperate sort of noise in the back of his throat. “That’s cheating,” he murmurs. He slides a hand around Wheeler’s back.

“Is it?” Wheeler asks. He grabs Claudio’s arm and uses the leverage to hop back up on the dock. “You’re the one who speared me into the ocean.”

“I was flirting!” Claudio says. He wades up to stand in the space between Wheeler’s thighs, hands on the wet denim. “Am I no longer allowed to flirt with you now that we’re married?” He hands slide a little higher, and the denim is doing nothing to conceal Wheeler’s interest.

“If a spear is flirting, I’m shocked your proposal went so well.” He traps Claudio in his legs and draws him in. “It’s stupid how tall you are, by the way.”

“I have never heard you complain before.”

Wheeler leans down and kisses Claudio. He expects something quick, something gentle, something sweet, but it quickly shifts. Claudio’s fingertips dig into his thighs, pulling him closer, and Wheeler’s too far away from him like this.

“This pants are a curse,” Claudio says, and it’s the only warning Wheeler gets before he slides his hand along the denim covering his dick.

“Get up here,” Wheeler says. “Up – go to the cabin.”

“Am I in trouble?” Claudio asks. He uses his stupidly giant arms to effortlessly lift himself onto the dock. Wheeler would push him back into the water as revenge, but he has more important things to do.

“Yeah,” Wheeler says, grinning. “Go to your room.”

Claudio laughs and throws his head back. “I like where this is going.” He stands and walks backward. “You are coming, yes?”

“Nah,” Wheeler says, rolling to his feet. “I think I’ll go for a walk or something.” He tosses a grin Claudio’s way. “See if there’s any hot guys on this island.”

Claudi’s eyes flash a little, that possessive undertone that makes Wheeler’s knees weak. “You be careful with that, Schatzi,” he says, a hint of a laugh behind his words.

Wheeler shrugs and peels the shirt over his head. He can feel Claudio’s eyes on him as he swings the shirt around his hand. “Careful with what?”

Claudio runs toward him, but, instead of throwing him into the water again, he throws Wheeler over his shoulder.

“Took you long enough!” Wheeler laughs. “I was worried I’d have to go fully nude before you’d pick up what I was going for.”

“I would never complain about that, darling.” He shifts Wheeler in his arms, and Wheeler narrowly manages not to hit any part of his body on the door frame. He considers that a good omen.

Claudio throws him on the king sized bed, taking up most of the hotel room. Wheeler bounces so hard he almost falls off as he yanks his shirt off over his head.

“We’re getting the bed wet!” Wheeler says, scrambling off. “I love you, but I don’t want to get stuck sleeping in the ocean.”

“Fair point,” Claudio concedes. He looks around rapidly, throwing his near translucent shirt somewhere in the room. “Oh. Oh, that’s perfect.”

Wheeler joins him at the balcony door. “You and your balconies,” he mutters, but he’s already shuffling out of his jeans.

“You see my vision, darling,” Claudio says, pressing himself up against Wheeler’s back. At some point he’d gotten rid of his pants and boxers, and it’s so close to enough but not there. “At this balcony there are no pesky family members or gym workers getting in our way.” He slides his hands down Wheeler’s sides. “And those cabins have their own little fences so they can’t see us.”

“You’ve already sold me on the balcony sex,” Wheeler laughs. He kicks his boxers away and they get stuck in a lounge chair. “Stop selling. It’s not necessary.”

“It’s dirty talk!” Claudio says. “I’m making it sexy!”

“You’re acting like you’re selling desks to an elementary school principal. I’m gonna buy what you’re selling, baby.” He pushes his ass back, eyes half rolling back when he’s met by Claudio’s hard cock. “And that is not dirty talk.”

“Yes it is,” Claudio says, kissing along the back of Wheeler’s neck. “I’m talking about us having sex.”

Wheeler turns around to find himself caged in Claudio’s arms. “Dirty talk is me saying I expect you to fuck me like it’s the last thing you plan to do.” He makes eye contact with Claudio as he licks up his hands, grinning at the patches on pink on Claudio’s cheeks. “Dirty talk is saying that I want you to shove your dick so far inside me I feel it for days, that I want you to make me come so hard I almost fall over the railing.” He reaches down to stroke Claudio’s dick once, with intent. “Dirty talk,” he says, leaning in, “is saying if you don’t get this cock inside me in the next two minutes, I’m going to die.”

Claudio exhales slowly, steadily. “If I had known marrying you would turn you into this sexual devil, I would have agreed with your elopement idea.”

Wheeler throws his head back, laughing. “I knew you’d come around to it!”

“If we eloped, however,” Claudio says, hips twitching up into the ring of Wheeler’s hand, “you wouldn’t have met your other dads, and Mox wouldn’t be watching our house right now.”

“Please don’t bring up my fathers when you’re about to rail me into oblivion,” Wheeler says, dropping his hand. “It ruins the mood.”

“I was continuing a conversation!”

Wheeler sighs. “You really are bad at dirty talk.” He slips under Claudio’s arm and walks back inside, digging in his bags.

Claudio’s surprisingly silent as Wheeler pulls out the lube. Silent enough that it makes him suspicious.

“What,” Wheeler begins as he turns around, “are you –”

He’s cut off by Claudio yanking him forward, hands cupping Wheeler’s cheeks. Wheeler gasps into Claudio’s mouth, winding his arms around Claudio’s neck. They’re both still saltwater-damp from the ocean, sliding against each other, and Claudio pulls them backward to the balcony.

“Hold onto the rail, Schatzi,” Claudio growls into Wheeler’s ear. “You’ll need the support.”

Wheeler’s entire body shivers with anticipation, and he does as Claudio says.

“Just for clarification,” Claudio says over the click of the opening lube bottle, “I intend to fuck you against this rail, outside, technically in public.”

“Stop talking about it and do it,” Wheeler whines. “Come on, Claudio. It’s our honeymoon.”

“Oh, now you don’t want me to talk,” Claudio laughs into Wheeler’s ear.

“Just – get in me!” Wheeler demands. “Quit making me wait!”

Mercifully, Claudio’s laughter comes hand in hand as his finger slides between Wheeler’s cheeks. Wheeler whines and wiggles back against it.

Claudio murmurs something in German that Wheeler can’t translate with all his blood away from his brain as he slides a finger inside of Wheeler.

“Yeah,” Wheeler says. “Finally. Okay.” He babbles, pushing back. “Another, come on.”

“Patience,” Claudio says. But he traces a second finger around Wheeler’s rim, teasing.

“This is the meanest thing you’ve ever done to me,” Wheeler snaps. “Am I not going to get dicked down on my honeymoon? Stop taking your time.”

“Don’t tell me how to fuck my husband.”

Husband.

All it took was the single word, and Wheeler’s pushing back on Claudio’s fingers with a moan.

“Ah,” Claudio says. “Interesting.”

He finally adds a third finger after Wheeler demands and insists. “I can handle it. Now, come on.”

“You must be sure,” Claudio says, and Wheeler’s about to throw a goddamned temper tantrum at the slick sounds of Claudio stroking his cock.

“Come on,” Wheeler says. “Fuck me.”

“I thought I was expected to make love to you on our honeymoon,” Claudio says, head of his cock catching on Wheeler’s rim but giving him no satisfaction. “Not fuck you like a wild animal.”

“I wouldn’t say no to either,” Wheeler laughs. “But, fuck, I need – I need.”

“Tell me,” Claudio says. “What do you need?”

“I need you to fuck me,” Wheeler decides. “Not make love. Please.”

Claudio’s laugh is low, the way it gets in their most fun of nights. “Why, angel,” he says, hands gripping Wheeler’s hips, “all you had to do is ask.”

He slides into Wheeler, up to the hilt, in one swift, magnificent movement. Wheeler’s breath catches in his chest as he grips the banister. “Yup,” he pants, grinding back on Claudio’s cock. “Exactly that.” He grins to the reflection of the two of them in the clear, blue water. “Come on. Make me get so loud the other people hear it.”

Claudio’s hand comes up around to circle Wheeler’s throat like a necklace. He can feel the cool metal of their matching rings against his skin, and pushes back in time with Claudio’s thrusts.

He’s wild with it, intent, and Wheeler thinks this is time he’s allowed himself to relax since the wedding planning started. Claudio is silent as he pounds into Wheeler, and Wheeler himself can’t do much but pant and ask for more.

His orgasm hurtles toward him like a train, and he moves one hand to circle around his dick.

Claudio drops the hand from Wheeler’s throat and slaps Wheeler’s hand away. “I’ll take care of that.” The words are smudged into the skin at the back of Wheeler’s neck, like a promise. Claudio’s hand curls around his cock and it’s one, two, and he’s coming against the banister and into the ocean a few feet below. His knees shake and he leans over the banister.

“All mine,” Claudio singsongs as he smooths a hand against Wheeler’s back. Wheeler swivels his hips, then Claudio yelps. Wheeler’s entire body goes hot with the way he can feel Claudio filling him up.

Claudio falls against him, skin on skin, hands sliding down Wheeler’s arms until they link with Wheeler’s hands. “I think we’ve christened the honeymoon well,” he says, pressing a kiss to Wheeler’s spine. He pulls back. Wheeler stands, deliciously sore, and looks around. It doesn’t seem like anybody heard. If they did, nobody reacted.

“I’m getting into the water,” Wheeler says, dazedly rolling over the banister. “Closer than the shower.”

“What?” Claudio asks. “Schazi, what are you –” He interrupts himself with laughter as Wheeler flops into the water with a splash.

Wheeler grins up at him. “What are you waiting for?”

Claudio launches himself over the banister and lands with a splash next to Wheeler. It’s only a couple of feet.

“Oh, ew,” Wheeler says. “I just realized we’re swimming in my come.”

“I refuse to dignify that with a response,” Claudio says, and he dives under the water, taking Wheeler out by the knees. Wheeler giggles and curls around Claudio until he’s standing up and carrying him to the side with the dock. “We should get back inside. We don’t want anyone to call the authorities.”

Wheeler sighs and rolls back up onto the dock, trying to avoid any splinters. They step under the outside shower for a quick rinse, and Wheeler is suddenly so, so tired.

“I’m going to bed,” he mumbles, grabbing a random pair of boxers from his luggage. “Taking a nap. I got fucked too good to stay awake.” Wheeler collapses into bed.

“I feel you should apologize for your comment about my dirty talk.” Claudio stands, pulling a pair of boxers on. Pity. “You seemed to well enjoy what I provided for you.”

Wheeler presses his face into the pillow, and throws a thumbs up behind him. He doesn’t have the energy to respond.

“Oh, now you no longer have the words to tease me,” he chuckles, and he slides into the sheets behind Wheeler.

“You didn’t do a great job with the dirty talk,” Wheeler manages to say. “But everything else was…” He sighs, letting the memory of everything wash over him. “So good. Beyond good.”

“See? I don’t need dirty talk,” Claudio murmurs, curling around Wheeler and pulling him in tightly. “I have other skills.”

~

Mini Playlist: Honey Honey - Abba Waterloo - Abba Lay All Your Love on Me - Abba Closer - Nine Inch Nails

[dialovers-translations]

Diabolik Lovers DARK FATE ー Carla Heaven [01]

[Heaven 01] [Heaven 02] [Heaven 03]

ー The scene starts in the ballroom 

Yui: ( Wow! What a crowd... )

( They must all be students since they’re wearing their uniform. )

( They don’t look like students at all...In stark contrast to myself, they’ve all got an amazing figure... (1) )

Carla: ...What’s wrong? I feel as if you’re not as talkative as usual. 

Yui: Ah...The nerves are getting to me from being around all these people...

Carla: It is only natural people would gather for a dance party hosted at the principal school. 

Yui: ...Right. 

( Exactly. A dance party was announced to be held at the academy in Great Britain. )

( With Carla-san being selected as the representative of the Japan campus. )

( And I’m the one he chose to be his dance partner, but... )

I wonder if I’ll be able to properly fulfill such an important role...

Carla: Straighten your back.

Yui: Y-Yes...!

Carla: I am your partner, remember? There is no need to be nervous. 

Yui: Um...Are you sure I’m the one who wanted as your partner?

Carla: ...I beg your pardon?

Yui: Not only am I not exactly the greatest dancer, unlike the other people around, my looks aren’t anything to write home about either...

...I’m just worried that I’ll be a bad match for you...

Carla: So basically you are saying you want me to dance with a different woman?

Yui: I-I don’t want that...But still.

Carla: Then dance with me. 

I do not intend to dance with a woman who leaves me cold either. 

*Rustle*

Carla: ...Have some confidence. I am right in front of you.

Yui: ...Okay!

Carla: Your hand please, Yui.

Entrust your body to me. I wil lead you to perfection. 

*Rustle*

Yui: ...Yes!

*TIMESKIP*

*Clap clap clap*

Yui: ...Haah.

( Thank god...! I managed to dance the whole thing without messing up! )

Carla: Well done.

However...It appears that we have gathered quite some attention.

Yui: ...Eh...!? 

( He’s right...Everyone around is looking at us...!! )

( Unlike the other day when it was just the two of us dancing, I actually feel some sense of accomplishment. )

Carla: How about we show them what we are capable of now that we have the chance? 

Yui: O-Okay...!

*TIMESKIP*

ー The scene shifts to the winding staircase

Yui: ( ーー ...It’s over! )

( The party was so much fun... )

It’s all thanks to your excellent leading. Thank you so much!

Carla: You have improved quite a bit as well. 

Yui: Fufu, thank you very much!

I’ve actually been practicing in secret ever since the last time we danced together!

Although, I never imagined we’d be dancing at such a large-scale event next!

Carla: That one time, huh? It sure brings me back.

Yui: Back then, I would have never thought I’d once day get to show off my dancing in front of so many people!

Carla: ...Yes, to think this would happen. 

Yui: It was really too crowded though, don’t you think? 

Carla: ...I agree. Not only was it crowded, but you stood out a little too much as well. 

I would rather not have you attract any more positive attention from the men around you. 

Yui: I-I didn’t...!

*Rustle*

Yui: ーー !

C-Carla-san...? What was gotten into you, suddenly pinning me to the wall?

Carla: Did you not notice? All of the men around were looking at you. 

I can only assume they must have fallen head over heels for you after seeing you dance earlier. 

Yui: Eh? ...Eh? ....Head over...!? 

Carla: You are adorable after all. It’d be bad if you were to attract any more attention.

Yui: C-Cute...Oh no...I’m not...!

Carla: ...Forgive me. When you are involved, I cannot help but be prone to jealousy. 

Yui: Carla-san...

Carla: ...

Yui: ...Ah...

Carla: ...One kiss simply will not do...I doubt I will be able to stop at just your cheek...

*Smooch*

Carla: I’m tempted to leave my mark on you like this...and show everyone that you belong to me...

...Haah...

Yui: ( No need to do that, as I have been long yours, Carla-san... )

ーー TO BE CONTINUED ーー

Translation notes

(1) While スタイルがいい which literally means ‘having a good style’ might seem as if she’s calling them hip or fashionable, the phrase is actually used to describe someone’s figure/outer appearance instead. 

[circular-bircular]

Here’s my thoughts!

Disconnect from real life: Agreed. So many people in these servers are not touching grass. So many are stuck entirely just in conversations amongst similarly traumatized people, which isn’t helping them at all. It’s great to be able to bounce ideas off each other, but often it’s groups of people triggering each other left and right.

Misinformation: Strongly agreed. So many CDD spaces don’t… actually know anything about CDDs beyond their own experiences (and plural specific spaces are worse). So many people haven’t don’t any legwork by doing research. I feel self conscious sometimes because I also haven’t dug as much into research as I’d like, but I realize more and more that I’ve done quite a bit more than some others out there.

Treating DID like it’s fun: This is where I start to disagree. I used to treat my disorder with the severity I felt it deserved. It took so much from me. But… I cannot imagine being that way now, especially after making a lot of headway on recovery in recent years. I need to be able to have some fun with it. There’s a fantastic quote I love from a series I loved as a child: “I’ve looked at the world for quite a few years now and I’ve found that, if I don’t laugh, I’ll probably end up crying.” Is there really anything wrong with having fun with it? Shouldn’t people with DID be allowed to experience some joy? I agree that there is a lot of focus on enjoying your system and loving your system, to a detrimental degree — people should discuss the hard times more — but I also think there needs to be a balance of the two.

Children: Strongly disagree. I also love that this is the only point so far that even mentions endogenic systems. Anyways. Children 10-14 can still have DID. It develops from trauma seemingly from before 9 years old. A 14 year old could easily develop parts in that time. I personally know of someone who was diagnosed by medical professionals with a CDD at age 14, due to the circumstances of his life. It’s entirely possible to happen. Furthermore, given the advent of the internet, children are learning about abuse and diagnosis criteria far earlier than ever before. It’s not without reason for a child to learn about their disorder earlier than the research typically indicates. (Also: the “personality is still developing until 25” was not only a misinterpretation of “your brain is still developing until you’re 25,” but it’s also a completely arbitrary number due to the upward age of those included in an fMEI study. The thing that seemed to be “finished developing” was the frontal lobe. Modern science has completely debunked this claim, stating that the brain never stops developing.)

(Side note on the above one: are children in CDD spaces an issue? Yes! Just not for the reason you described here.)

Microlabels: Agree and disagree I suppose. Agree because, yes, if you don't label yourself as specific things, you can get hounded in certain spaces. But largely, I have seen this trend dip off. And... well. Disagree because, what is it my business? If someone else wants to label themselves to the high heavens, more power to them. I'll mention how forcing labels onto myself hurt me, but if they're certain it's awesome for them, then I'm happy for them. It isn't any skin off my back. (And fully agreed that "reclaiming terms" from endogenic systems is stupid, but not because of the type of label -- moreso that you can't.... reclaim that. That's not what reclaiming means.)

Sexualizing: ...??? I'm so confused by this. Are there really people out there saying shit like, "Mmm... Caretakers are so sexy. I love me a good Gatekeeper." If so, that's fucked up. People will absolutely stereotype these roles (and that does make some sense -- many do follow similar trends, enough that the role label got made in the first place) and genuinely, as long as they're open to other "types" of those roles existing, that's fine. But if this is just about people... enjoying sex... I mean. Okay? That's allowed. That's always been allowed.

Thanks for providing actual discussion topics to the syscourse tag.

I'm really starting to dislike the plural community/ies* online and I'll explain why.

*this is mostly based on DID/OSDD discord servers rather than Tumblr however some of these points still apply.

I do apologise for sounding like a cranky old lady going off about 'back in my day' but this has been bugging me

Mass disconnect from real life experiences; a lot of things I see on DID groups scream of spending far too much time online with very little outside interaction.

Misinformation and inability to read, research and explore the connotations of your own disorder/the disorder claimed.

Treating a SEVERE TRAUMA DISORDER like a "fun lil quirk." No. This is not like that "which disney princess am I?" personality quiz, this is a legitimate, detrimental disorder, disrupts every day life and that can and does kill. People pick up on the 'fun' things of plurality like 'having friends in your head' but avoid the nasty parts like suicidal alters, or they treat it as a convenient excuse to get out of taking responsibility for their actions.

Children claiming to be DID systems. I'm talking 10-14 year olds. If you're under the age of 25, your personality is still developing. you're going to be confused whether or not you have a disorder. Trust me, please, you will regret claiming to be an endogenic system when you're older. I can almost guarantee it. You'll look back and cringe and ask yourself why you claimed that as a young teen (unless you got a DID/OSDD diagnosis later).. I did shit as a young teen I cringe at constantly. Heck, I happily claimed a whole ton of problematic MOGAI labels (no, I am not proud...) with very little regard for their validity outside little corners of the internet

Push for use of microlabels (and god forbid you choose not to). And reclaiming "endogenic" terms. Do.. we really need a name for an alter based on a song...? I don't think so and I'm yet to see something that changes my mind.

Sexualising of specific alter types and systems in general.

I'm open to discussion (polite discussion) and additions :)

[cowboyjen68]

Hello! I’ve seen you give advice to other people on this, and I was hoping you could give me some. I think advice from an older LGBT person would aid me in my predicament :)

I’m fairly certain of myself being a lesbian, and I have been for as long as I can remember (even if I didn’t know the word for it), but relatively recently I’ve thought of myself as being a trans man- I’m attracted to women as a female, but I view my gender as wholly male. It feels wrong to claim myself as one and not the other, but I’ve been told by others that you cannot be both.

Basically… are lesbian trans men a thing? Can I be both?

I am frankly not sure how to really give you a good answer. Only you can know your heart and reasoning for why both lesbian and trans man resonate with you. Loving or being attacted to women as a female sounds pretty lesbian to me. ;)

But it sounds like perhaps it is presentation in public (the idea of gender as a social construct) as a trans man feels comfortable you.

I have had many lesbians friends through the years, particularly women's festival friends who, when in the presence of women/lesbians used lesbian and woman but when in the greater world presented and described themselves as trans men. It didn't really seem incongruent to me. I could understand why being seen as a man, even feeling more attached to being a trans man would be a way to be more safe, less hassled by mixed company in social situations, jobs, etc

When someone sees me as a man, depending on the circumstances I used to definitely let them think what they think becase it was easier for me. Now that I am older and more confident in my voice I correct them gently. 

I don’t think your experience is every trans masc/trans man/lesbian experience but certainly you are not alone. The strong push to divide lesbians, particularly butches, and trans men just wasn’t a thing I came out to or was around and I mostly see it on line and not in any real life friend groups. 

I do think you will get more push back on line or in echo chambers of thought than you will with real life friends or with in intergenerational lesbians groups. Most lesbians with some life under their belts will not be so hung up on making you define yourself by strict definitions that only serve to ignore what is your reality of being a female attracted to other females but also having your reasons to connect to being a trans man. 

Not everyone will be comfortable with that dichotomy but some will and those are the friend groups you want to put energy into. 

I don’t want to go into a bunch of “actually... it is like this” or “are you sure you aren’t just this” because I am not a therpist nor do I know anything about your life. Feel free to come into my DM’s if you want to talk things over with someone who will not judge you for needing to talk things through. 

If you decide to attend a women’s festival, and I would HIGHLY recommend you do because I think you might meet others who feel exactly as you do, I will but links at the end. Having other people to relate to can be very helpful. You only would have to suck it up for a week and be okay being seen as a lesbian only for a few days. But the connections you would make could travel into your real life and help you to form an understanding friend group. 

I suggest the Ohio Lesbian Festival Or perhaps Fern Fest

https://ohiolesbianfestival.org/

https://www.michiganfernfest.com/

[stonedregulus]

I didn’t get to read Sophie’s fic before she took it down. Was it really *that* bad?

So, yes. It was really that bad.

This is the only post I’m going to make about this because I’m having an extremely hard time talking about it. But I think it’s important that everyone learns from this.

First of all, you should never EVER be sending su*cide baits or death threats to people. No matter what they’ve done. It’s absolutely disgusting and you should be ashamed of yourself if you did. Not only is it just completely wrong, when something like this has happened and people are trying to have a calm discussion about why it wasn’t okay, you coming in screaming threats and baits just make the person get defensive and turn off their ears. They’re no longer listening to well thought out arguments, there’s no way anyone is going to be able to change their mind about what they did because you’re just screaming hate. It’s not alright. It doesn’t help anything, it just makes everything worse. If you cannot think of anything else in a situation except “I hate them so much they should die for what they did” then you need to take a deep breath and step back and only approach the situation again when you can have a calm discussion.

I’ve spoken to several people who are trans, nonbinary, and genderfluid in my DMs who came to me either in a panic or to check on me, and we all felt very much the same about this: extremely dysphoric after reading it. Not just that but we felt physically ill. Personally I thought I was going to vomit and my heart rate spiked out of nowhere because it stressed me out so badly (and I didn’t even fully read it, I only skimmed). We’re all feeling kind of like empty shells right now, that’s the best way I can describe it. Like this fucked us up.

You guys know how I feel about setting things down and walking away from them if it will trigger you: don’t like it, don’t read it. However, it was not tagged correctly to begin with and there’s still a few bigger issues at play here.

I have a major asylum/mental hospital squick, which is why I didn’t read it fully. That’s on me—that’s no one else’s problem, so I’m not upset about that.

Here’s where the real issues start though: it was specifically written for me. I am a trans man who has repeatedly told the author that I am frequently misgendered and dead named by my family and that I have a lot of dysphoria.

The last and most important issue with the fic, was that, while yes it was set in the 1800s and this was something that happened back then and how trans people were actually treated, this is not something that we can just look at under the scope of “oh it happened a long time ago”. What I mean by that is there are many, MANY people who think transness is an illness—they think transgender people are mentally ill, and given the chance they would do exactly what was happening in this fic. I know we all live in this really fun fandom bubble on tumblr where nothing can hurt us and everyone accepts each other for their gender identity, but this isn’t the real world. Trans people are persecuted, and not trusted by a large number of cis people. In the real world, not being cis is a really fucking scary, and while that is absolutely bullshit and wrong on so many levels, it’s reality! This is our lives. It’s not a joke or a game. What happened in this fic, maybe doesn’t happen exactly like that now, but lgbtq conversation therapy camps exist. And it could happen to us if the wrong people are elected and pass bills that they want to pass. So saying “oh it was a long time ago” is a fucking shitty excuse.

A brief description of the fic:

TW: transphobia, forced outing, asylum/mental hospital, treating transness as a mental illness, medical treatment against someone’s will, conversion therapy-esque situation

Regulus is outed as ftm as he’s having sex with James and someone walks in on them. He’s taken against his will, misgendered, and treated for being transgender with an experimental procedure.

[lazyliars]

/rp

Before I get into it, I want to state that is EXPLICITLY an analysis of the Characters, and is not intended to touch on how the cc’s played them in a meta sense unless specifically stated otherwise.

Also, this is technically a part two to my other post, which took a more in depth look at Techno and Phil’s reactions to Tommy’s death. It’s not necessary when reading this post, but I don’t address their reactions here.

So. The question must be asked.

Are we [the Syndicate] the baddies?

Yes.

The End.

 Why are the Syndicate the baddies?

They got damn logo is a wither skull.

The End.

That's not how this works.

Yeah, yeah. You’re right.

The Syndicate's goals as an organization are not inherently bad. They seem to have good intentions behind them, and the focus on the freedom of it's individual group members is important to remember when talking about it; It is not a government. There is no hierarchical power system. No one is forced to do anything against their will, or surrender any of their rights or power to remain a member. It is not a government.

I also want to address Techno and Phil backing Ranboo into a corner – I see them getting a lot of flack for this, but I personally do not think it is relevant to the greater discussion, or necessarily representative of any contradictions within the organization. It was clearly played for laughs, and after they back off they clarify to Ranboo that they won't force him. Then later when Phil and Ranboo are alone, Ranboo feels safe enough to express that he felt like he was pressured into it, and Phil assures him he is allowed to leave whenever he wants; He is not being forced to do anything, and he is not being coerced or blackmailed.

None of the Syndicate members have done any wrongs against each other in the context of the Syndicate, OR gone against any of the Syndicate's core principles.

That, said, holy shit are they the baddies.

Listen, there's trying to telegraph a meaning or message to the audience and then there's having your logo be wither skulls on blackstone. That is straight out of the skit I keep referencing, seriously.

Okay, but, they laughed at it! It was played as a joke, just like the Ranboo thing!

The Ranboo thing was improv, the Syndicate's headquarters were planned – the artistic choices that they made reflect on what role they want the build and the organization inhabiting it to play in the future storylines.

Wither Skulls kind of have some CONNOTATIONS. Techno is an English major, I don't think he chose the most threatening imagery possible on accident, and then joked about the way people would interpret it just to stir the pot. This reads as hugely intentional.

And beyond that, the jokes they make during this part aren't “haha yeah, we look bad but we're actually good!” they're “you can tell by looking at these that we're the good guys wink wink, this is good guy stuff right here :)” It is a joke about how they are definitely not the good guys. This isn't even a case of unreliable narrators, this is one step down from flat out saying the meta intent.

But okay, I hear you, I'm talking about things that haven't happened yet. The Syndicate hasn't used any Withers, they could be an aesthetic choice.  Lets look at what they do in practice.

So, they barge into private property, assess Snowchester's right to continue existing based entirely on their own ideals of what Freedom is, and then only once Tubbo assures them that they have no standing leader do they grant the place their approval to, and I gotta stress this part, continue existing.

 In my Quackity meta, I already talked about how Government in the context of a M1necraft RP cannot be compared to IRL Governments on a one-to-one scale. They don't serve the same purposes or have the same type of power. What I didn't talk about was Agency in the context of m1necraft governments.

In an irl government, if you are born into one, you can't really leave without committing a massive overhaul on your life, which can be expensive and difficult, if not impossible for many people. Even in a “benevolent” government, the simple physicality of where you were born can prevent you from leaving it easily.

The same hurdles do not exist in the Dream SMP. People who join M1necraft governments choose to. They want to, either at the beginning when they form one, or later on when they join up. So far, no Government has just Sprung Up and forced the current residents of an area to become dependent on them, except maybe the Eggpire, who's status as a government is... shakey.

And even when people want to leave or separate from the government, they have been historically able to do so without any trouble or any effort from said governments to stop them. Jack Manifold emancipated from Manberg. Fundy and Quackity both left to start new nations. In all cases they were allowed to do so without any attempts on the part of the governments to stop them, either through force, or institutions preventing them from doing so.

The most anyone has lost when leaving a government is their house, which is still usually their property anyway, and is something that is easily rebuilt elsewhere and is inconvenient to move anyway.

The only exceptions to this might be Schlatt exiling Wilbur and Tommy - but even then, they weren’t trying to leave, they were trying to get back in, and of course the original L’manberg revolution, where Dream attempted to force L’manberg back into the Dream SMP, which wasn’t even a government at that point in time.

I don’t consider Phil’s house arrest an example of a government forcing someone to stay a citizen - that was treated less as a matter of a citizen wanting to leave the country and more as a threat to national security. Still pretty fucked up, but it’s a different issue.

What I'm saying is, If Tubbo wants to create a government out in the middle of nowhere, threatening no one, forcing no one to join either through force or desperation, and allowing people to join willingly because they want to, then he should be allowed to do that.

The Irony of the Syndicate, a group of people consisting of some of the richest, strongest people on the server, going around and enforcing 'Freedom' that entails no one person having more power than any other, is absurd. 

It shows an extreme lack of self-awareness and/or self-righteousness, as they seem to think that they deserve to be the ones who decide what constitutes a government.

Snowchester is a small independent nation - they shouldn’t have to live in fear of being obliterated if they don’t walk on eggshells to meet an arbitrary standard decided by people who’s only authority on the matter COMES FROM THEIR PERSONAL POWER. No one elected them! No one chose them! They were not “approved” by the server at large to enact this kind of law.

The Syndicate are not a government, but they are an unsupervised power structure exerting their ideals on a land that did not ask for them. Like, These people have invented an actual Authoritarian-Anarchist faction. How the hell did they manage this?????

Back on topic.

Tubbo shows them the crater left by his nukes. The reaction is oddly positive – the nukes are fine by the morals of the Syndicate, apparently. I'd argue that they come across as more impressed than anything else; they seem to respect Tubbo for having gotten ahold of “real” power.

(There's a few good memes out there about “We can excuse nuclear weaponry, but we draw the line at Government!”)

So. By the Syndicate's standards: A single person or group of acceptably equal persons with weapons of mass-destruction are only worth “keeping an eye on” because they might provoke other people.

Like, I consider Project Dreamcatcher to be one of, if not the most morally ambiguous thing Tubbo has ever done, largely because it was all on his own initiative. He holds some culpability for The Butcher Army and Phil's house arrest, but they weren't his ideas and he was mostly following Quackity at that point.

And Phil tells Tubbo, IMMEDIATELY AFTER SEEING THE NUCLEAR CRATER:

“Looks like you've reformed a little bit Tubbo, I'm proud.”

And it's fine. Crimes against nature? Fine. A sign of healing in fact!! Tubbo is having a sweeeelll time and he definitely didn't make these nukes specifically in fear of being attacked by these exact people! Tubbo is doing great. Tubbo is doing fine. Tubbo. is. FINE.

Anyway.

I don't think this presentation of the Syndicate was an accident. Looking at the greater lore of SMP right now, after the Egg is done, their list of enemies is slim, and considering that they seem solely invested in taking down governments, that leaves maybe Snowchester, Kinoko Kingdom, and Eret and the greater Dream SMP.

Snowchester has not been shown to be corrupt, evil, or have any intent to go down that route. The most ambiguous thing they've done is, again, is the nukes. Other than that, it's pretty much your average cottagecore snow village.

Kinoko is presented in an even more morally 'good' light, Karl having founded it specifically for his Time-travel library purposes, which are currently being treated by the narrative as a selfless act, if not downright heroic.

Eret is also a fairly 'good' aligned character atm. He's been on that redemption grind since the og betrayal, and doesn't seem keen on backtracking. He's actively tried to leverage his position as king to make things better, and hasn't been quiet about that. He was also 'validated' by Tommy*, a character who has been described both by his allies and enemies as “the hero,” so take that as you will.

What I'm getting at is, all of the current potential enemies for the Syndicate aside from the Egg, are currently being cast as 'good,' and if they were to be attacked, they would undoubtedly have the moral high-ground, unless something drastically changed.

The only potential shakeups I can think of is are a Dream escape and/or a Wilbur revival, both of which could draw the Syndicate's attention and ire, depending on how things go. That said, it's just as likely that either or both of them would join the Syndicate – Dream still has that favor, and Phil and Techno both seemed to think Wilbur would've agreed with their blowing up L'manberg.

Both of those characters are currently **villains – the fact that they're both prime candidates for the Syndicate is a huge indication of the direction it's going to go as the plot moves forward.

((*I know some people are gonna come at me for painting Tommy as the “deciding factor” of what is morally good, so lemme just stop you there. I'm not talking about Tommy somehow having the 'right' to decide who is and isn't good, and definitely not the right to decide who should and shouldn't be king. I'm saying that Tommy, a character who the narrative treats as, if not a good person, then a person who is trying to be good, was in support of Eret, a character who has also been trying to be good.

Eret doesn't gain the moral highground because Tommy said so, he gets it because a character who the narrative treats as trying to do better, acknowledged Eret's earnest attempts at doing the same.

**I'm referring to Wilbur here as a villain because Tommy seemed convinced he would be if he were to be brought back. There is always the possibility that he's wrong.))

So, to summarize this: I read the Syndicate as being intentionally positioned as future antagonists, if not outright villains of a future arc. They are NOT a Government but their goals are contradictory with their means, and it is important to keep in mind that they plan to enforce their own brand of freedom on people who did not grant them either the authority or permission to do so.

So, uh. Can you tell I loved these streams? They were seriously so good. I kept switching between Ranboo and Techno's POV's trying to keep up with everything. I still have to watch Niki's!

All in all, I'm super, super excited for whats coming next, egg stuff, Syndicate stuff, Tommy stuff, all of it.

[k3rm1e]

heyo!! i was wondering if you would mind writing hc’s for a reader who just had a major accomplishment but their parents don’t really congratulate them or anything, and then philza celebrates with them instead and tells reader how proud he is. i kinda want some dadza comfort rn :’) anyway, thank you sm!! have a great day <3

accomplishments

heyo!! i was wondering if you would mind writing hc’s for a reader who just had a major accomplishment but their parents don’t really congratulate them or anything, and then philza celebrates with them instead and tells reader how proud he is. i kinda want some dadza comfort rn :’) anyway, thank you sm!! have a great day <3

hello anon! i’m sorry i took a while to answer this. i went a bit off track with this and got A LOT more angsty, so i’m really sorry about that. If you want me to make a much more fluffier or mellowed-out version, i’d be happy to. please, read the trigger warnings before reading this.

i don’t plan on writing more angst-y things like this, especially not this angsty, so don’t worry. once again, please, if you would like me to rewrite this into a less emotional version i’d be happy to

cw: swearing

tw: talk of god and the church, slight manipulation, repetition of words

accomplishments:

  holy shit. you were in disbelief. a state of shock. one million twitch followers. one. million. followers. you were silent. shock can have many effects on a person. some scream and laugh out of joy, or a misplaced sense of mania. others cry, because they cannot handle it. some remain confused, because their brains are unable to conceptualize the event. you were silent.

  what should you do? would a “thank you” tweet be good enough or would it come off as insincere? should you wait to stream? or would that make people feel you didn’t care because you took so long? through the anxiety you could feel the true realization that you now had one million followers. like a truck, you were hit with the most excited feeling ever. getting up, you jumped around your room. you spun and jumped and cheered and whooped and yelled and smiled and danced and were overflowing with joy, with the acknowledgement that you had done it, you had really fucking done it. 

  opening the window above your desk, without a single fuck, you screamed. “WHOOOOOOOO!!!!!!! FUCK YEAH!!!!!!” let’s just hope your neighbors don’t wake up.

  you stayed up all night, celebrating. tweeting out a thank you, you received congratulations from your fans and friends while you talked with the people in your discord vcs.

  in the morning, your mother and father had woken up. with a newfound determination, you ran downstairs. streaming was your passion and you wanted to tell the world what you had done. but, because of limitations, your mother was your metaphorical world.

  “mom! mom! mom! mother, mother, mumther!!” you shouted, dashing down the stairs, tripping over your feet. stupid wood flooring and slidy socks.

  from your place at the bottom of the stairs, you heard her sigh, “yes, sweetie?”

  you bounded over to her, setting your arms on the kitchen counter. from the hallway you could see your dad, who was sitting on the couch drinking his sunday morning coffee. “mom! guess what?” without giving her time to respond, you shouted, “i hit one million follows on twitch! one freaking million!”.

  your mother didn’t seem as enthusiastic as you. “is that why you were causing such a ruckus last night? and, watch your mouth, even though ‘freaking’ isn’t a ‘true’ curse, i don’t want you swearing. especially not on the lord’s day. i couldn’t fathom going to church everyday, only to allow you to have a mouth like that.” she continued to stare at her work papers.

  “oh, uh, okay mother. dad? did you hear me? i hit one million on twitch.” you awkwardly turned your head over to your father.

  “she’s right, you know that, don’t you sweetie?” your father stood up, and made his way into the kitchen. “language like that, it’s shameful. surely, we don’t need you to have a private session with father paulson, do we?” your dad stood next to your mother, rubbing her back as he stared at you.

  “no, no, of course not. um, i’m gonna go upstairs now.” you turned around, wishing you could simply disappear.

  “without breakfast? are you truly that upset with us? we can’t have you ending up like those people, committing sinful acts and going to hell. god would never forgive you. we’re already taking a risk allowing you to stream, putting yourself out there.”

  both your mother and father stared at you. your blood felt like ice in your veins. the white walls of your house seemed so much brighter, yet duller at the same time. everything felt a white-pure-pink-orange. your breathing got uneasy. choppy. in, out, out, in, in, in, out, in, in, out, out for different increments of time. 5, 3, 2, 7, 10, 9, 6, 4, 1, 6, 8, seconds, over and over and over.

  “we just wanna protect you, dear. we love you, don’t you get that?” your mother stared at you.

  you felt like a scene in those movies. the ones that directly cater to teens who thought their lives were shit when in reality they just hadn’t grown up enough to make sense of something yet. were you one of those teens? or is this actually wrong. you don’t think it is, but you don’t talk to others about this. family matters stay in the family was a common phrase repeated in your household. the church was family, they could know. your mother and father, they could know. others, they must not know, never know.

  “of course, mother, father.” you wanted to force yourself to speak, but syllables were incapable of getting past your lips. your mouth was full of peanut butter from the sandwiches served in your elementary school cafeteria. but, the partly frozen chocolate milk always washed it down. “of course. i love you guys too. love you.” you smiled, a disgusting smile that felt violating to exist on your face, violating, violating, violating.

  you dashed up the stairs, to your room, up, up, up. running in, you wanted to slam the door, scream out the window, puch your pillow, smash your pc, cry, whatever you could do to get out your emotions. but instead, you lightly shut your door and slowly walked over to your desk chair to see who was online. you would go live later. it was only 5 AM, after all. they could wait. at least, you hoped they could.

  opening discord, just to see what everyone was doing, you saw philza minecraft was online. you went over and messaged him, ‘phil. philza. philza minecraft. vc please?’ in response, you received a short, ‘sure m8, gimme a minute’ you waited, until you heard the noise confirming he had joined.

  “good morning phil.” your energy from before had receded back into the confines of your chest. the prior excitement was gone and replaced with a feeling of fatigue.

  “morning mate, how are you? congrats on the one mill!” phil sounded excited, happy for you. you smiled, chuckling a bit.

  “i’m alright man, just tired. how are you? and, thanks for the congrats.” you smiled, feeling the fatigue set in.

  “i’m good. but you, you don’t sound very good. couldn’t sleep, could ya’? that was how i was when i hit one mill. way too excited to sleep.”

  “yeah. yeah, i’m just tired.” you were getting a bit too tired to talk. the day had barely started, and yet the full-body emotional exhaustion had set.

  “‘just tired’? the hell happened kid?” phil’s voice sounded concerned. fuck. the last thing you wanted to do was worry him. he had his own life and you had already caused enough trouble today.

  “it’s nothing big phil, seriously. just my parents.” there, a slight bit of information. family matters still within the family, just a few words.

  “they being shitbirds? or are you lying, and something big did happen?” he was being inquisitive, which was dangerous. questions were dangerous.

  “no, why would i lie?” his inquisitiveness would continue, you knew. so you spilled the metaphorical beans. “they just, just weren’t as supportive as i’d wished they were when i told them. i was really psyched, y’know? and them, just sort of, not giving a shit? i don’t know man, it just feels bad.”

  “i get you. it’s shit, when people don’t care about your accomplishments. my parents never really saw streaming as a true profession in the beginning, which led to shit like you describing. i promise it gets better though, even if it feels like shit now. and, for what it’s worth, i’m proud of you.”

  “it’s fine phil, you don’t need to try to make me feel better. i’m okay, seriously.” you didn’t need or want his pity. accepting it would feel patronizing.

  “no, you need to understand that i’m not fucking around. one million is a big fuckin’ thing, especially for you who hasn’t been streaming all that long to achieve. it’s fucking amazing, mate. be proud of yourself, for christ’s sake.” his fake anger chimed through your headphones. even though you were being berated, you still felt better.

  “thank you, phil. i needed that.”

  “your welcome, mate. and look, anytime your parents are being shit, don’t try to hold it all in. call me, or wil, or someone, okay? don’t hold that shit in.”

  you fake sighed, just to piss him off. “okayyyyyy….”

  “good. now, go take a nap or some shit. i love you, kid.”

  “love you too, dadza.” this time, your words didn’t feel forced. the smile on your face wasn’t violating, but an invitation to better times. it would be alright. okay.

[chainofclovers]

Ted Lasso 2x6 thoughts

I felt like the physical embodiment of a series of iconic reaction GIFs while watching this episode. I felt like Higgins gagging on air and right and wrong choices. As an invested, non-casual Ted Lasso viewer, I feel quite absorbed in the experience of every episode, but I’m not usually a LOUD non-casual Ted Lasso viewer. At one point last night, I shouted “This is the wackiest show ever made!” at @bristler, and that doesn’t even sound like something I would say. And by “wacky” I just meant “all the emotions are happening at once.”

This episode was absolutely great and I knew that every single Rebecca Welton feeling I have would intensify because of this episode and that is exactly what happened.

This is me bravely writing down my episode thoughts after only one viewing (just like last week) and a bad night of sleep! Copious spoilers and emotions ahead...

This show goes all in on hats! A lot of bad hats for giving bad relationship advice and making bad decisions! Feel like you’re gonna do something correctly? Just put on a bad hat, that’ll snap you right out of it. Just had a revelation that you are almost certainly in an abusive relationship? Your girlfriend is hiding in the parking lot with a terrible hat for you! (I love this show.)

Dark forest dark forest dark forest dark forest.

I truly, truly, truly do not mean this to sound judgmental of any other fan, but it’s taking everything in my power not to just type “dark forest” in the comments of every person who is outraged that LDN152 is not Ted.

Gonna get my initial thoughts on the Sam=LDN152 reveal out of the way. I honestly like this choice.

First, I like this choice because of who LDN152 isn’t. I think about how awful it would be if she’d matched with Rupert and realized she’d been manipulated by him and charmed by him all over again, and how, when she gets the same reveal the audience already has, she would end up retraumatized by having been charmed and taken in by Rupert all over again. I think about her matching with Nate (if he’d redownloaded the app) and the inadequacy of her assertiveness advice and how Nate is one of the only non-Rupert characters who’s used sexist language against her and how Nate’s insecurities would be like water trying to co-exist with the oil of Rebecca’s insecurities. Nate and Rebecca are fond of each other and seem to want to be in each other’s lives, but a romantic squishing together via dating app would set them both back lightyears. I think about her matching with Ted, a man currently on a parallel-to-Rebecca trek through a very painfully dark forest, a man swinging wildly between performative attempted wit and utter panic. A man she trusts with her professional and personal challenges. [Her challenging mother comes to town and Keeley and Ted are the people she wants with her at lunch.] Ted and Rebecca, with all their current limitations, and with all the ways the forest obscures the view, are trying to be there for each other in their real, non-romantic comedy versions of their lives, and the discomfort of matching on an app seems like the kind of thing that would make them rear back from each other instead of bringing them even closer together. It is not time. It is so profoundly not time that I would have been furious if the writers had continued the “maybe it’s Ted?” line of thought for another second longer than they did.

Second, I like this choice because of who Sam is. I know. He’s not an appropriate match for her. The power dynamics are all messed up and their ages are all wrong. But this does introduce a potentially interesting parallel between Rupert and his younger women and the scrutiny Rebecca would risk herself and Sam experiencing if she goes for it. Rebecca seems to have tried to put away her Rupert-related trauma, but the specter of Rupert is lurking, and I do see that being a good person making an ethically complicated decision with another good person is very different from being an abuser setting out to take advantage of multiple people...but there are parallels she might have to reckon with. Also, Sam is a kind person with a strong ethical center and a well-documented interest in Rebecca. He and Ted helped each other feel more at home in London during a time of deeply missing other homes, and Sam has internalized a lot of Ted’s ways of living in a way that might genuinely appeal to Rebecca even if she doesn’t fully realize why. The writers on this show don’t write messes for the sake of drama. They write messes because life is painful and complicated and also very funny. I’d be shocked if, however this Bantr thing plays out, it isn’t painful and complicated and also funny.

(I am already a little worried that whatever happens next is going to activate some very ironic fan reactions given this is a show whose thesis statement is about withholding judgment. This fear is based not on Ted Lasso-specific knowledge but on unfortunate patterns of fandom, but...you can fear the impact of racist, sexist, and ageist tropes on two beloved characters without embodying those tropes as a viewer. You can watch characters make decisions that could subject them to harmful scrutiny without performing that harm yourself.)

Ted Lasso is a fictional character who tweeted about the joy of eating out (you know...at the Crown and Anchor) the day before 2x6 launched and during 2x6 Rebecca invited him to eat out at the Crown and Anchor. (I love this show.) I am so, so, so fond of all the little lunch-y things in this episode. Ted can’t bring Henry his lunch because he’s “at work” aka living in London. Ted and Beard surprise each other with secret sandwiches on Fridays. Rebecca is overwhelmed by her mother’s visit (her mother’s performance of a harmful pattern) and wants Keeley and Ted there. The scene at the Crown and Anchor, as painful as all the divorce/separation feelings were, was also so homey and lovely in terms of these characters being friends, being at home in a place despite the very not-at-home feelings emanating from Deborah. The Bake-Off viewing! Ted being the designated driver (probably a good thing on this particular day)! Rebecca feeling discomfort but not shutting down! Also cute British pub feelings. Evidence that Rebecca has talked to her mom about Ted! About personal things about Ted!

Naaaaaaate. His bursts of confidence and insight. The pain and insecurity and anger almost literally bubbling under the surface.

I cannot say enough good things about Higgins. He’s grown so much, and his decision to be honest with Beard regarding his concerns about Jane was absolutely impeccably done. Many, many trusted people in Higgins’ life told him not to do it. They are all good people, and they were all wrong. Sometimes one human being’s honesty makes the difference for someone who is struggling, and that’s exactly what happened here. Beard truly heard Higgins. And of course he didn’t immediately break things off with Jane. But he heard Higgins, and when Jane showed up Beard’s face looked different than it ever has, and Higgins words are with him as he walks off into the night with Jane and that might save him. And Rebecca witnessed it.

And I’m so glad she witnessed Higgins’ choice in the midst of this very difficult experience of a) trying to find Ted because she knows he’s in pain and being unable to and b) watching her mother repeat a pattern that Rebecca herself was able to break. It taught me so much about Rebecca. The way she was punished (and described the experience using the language of punishment) for having an honest reaction to her mother’s decision to leave her father the first time. The way she was taught that love is conditional, that love and reconciliation are things you can purchase with gifts. The way her mother uses the language of self-help without internalizing what it would take to heal, and probably has little use for actual therapy. The way her mother drinks alcohol as a way to feel free.

I don’t even know how to think, much less write, about everything with Roy’s coaching and his image and how Ted feels about it and all the fatherhood things Jamie brings up and all the fatherhood things Ted is missing w/r/t Nate and everyone except for Rebecca taking at face value (or willfully deciding to take at face value) the idea that Ted’s panic attack is actually just him needing to go barf up a fish pie. Ted hugging his backpack in Sharon’s office. Rebecca trying to find him, and Sharon being the one who does. The words “I wanna make an appointment” being the words that conclude the episode at the exact midpoint of the planned-for show. Halfway through the middle season. The moment Ted realizes he’s never going to be okay if he doesn’t give therapy a try.

I also can’t say enough good things about the moment with the team and Sharon, the way she agrees to one drink, the way it’s clear that she adores them all. Sharon is exacting and professional without being cold and calculating, and everything she does in this episode is such a gorgeous model of assertiveness, patience, and moderation...three things Ted struggles with the most.

What a dark forest. What an excellent group of humans.

[calltomuster]

(Even More) Star Wars Fic Recs

[first fic rec list] [second fic rec list]

Hello everyone, happy Monday! I've been reading some fantastic fics recently and wanted to share them with you. May 4th was an absolutely glorious day to be a Star Wars fanfic reader, but the downside to having so many great stories posted on way day is that it's super easy to miss some, so I tried to highlight some here, as well as the usual random assortment.

Alternating Current by @jessepinwheel (gen, WIP, 1/3 chapters, 5.7k words) I am subscribed to @jessepinwheel's AO3 account, that's how much I love all of their writing, and this is just their latest masterpiece. The premise is that after Naboo, Obi-Wan starts experiencing some strange things, almost as if there's someone else in his body. But it doesn't feel like a foreign presence in his mind... And, well, the presence calls themselves Ben. I'm so, so intrigued to see what happens next in this story.

See, I'm the Living Icarus by @crispyjenkins (Rex/Obi-Wan, WIP, 2/6 chapters, 7.0k words) Role-reversal with Obi-Wan as Anakin's Padawan post-Melida/Daan fighting in the Clone Wars alongside Rex. Yeah, that's what I thought -- you're hooked, right? I was too. And then I read the first two chapters and wowwwww, just got even more obsessed. It's all just *chef's kiss*. Cannot wait to read more.

Off Duty by thosenearandfarwars (Obi-Wan/Cody, one-shot, 4.4k words) A post-ROTS world in which the Jedi were not destroyed, the clones are given reparations, and Obi-Wan throws his whole self into reforming the Jedi Order. It's from Cody's POV as he tries to stop his (former?) General from running himself into the ground. Featuring Jedi culture, positive change, some fun namedrops (Chirrut?!), and CODYWAN! Highly recommend this fic.

Starting Over by @ewanmcgregorismyhomeboy12 (Obi-Wan/Cody, one-shot, 3.8k words) Speaking of amazing ideal post-ROTS AUs with Codywan, here's another! This one is described in the tags as being soft and domestic, and it totally is. Cody + plants + Obi-Wan = delight. Such a pleasure to read. Makes you feel all cozy inside.

Finders Keepers by SpaceWall (Obi-Wan/Cody + a ton of background ships, 2/2 chapters, 8.4k words) This fic is a soulmate AU that follows the premise that everything you lose, your soulmate ends up finding. It really does an excellent job of exploring this fascinating premise, and using it in ways I wouldn't have thought of. Like, something happens with Anakin that is just so beautiful yet haunting, I just... Ah! The main ship here is Codywan, but there are so many great background ships like Aayla and Bly or Anakin and Padmé, and some that are super interesting, like Satine and Rex, or Fox and Bail and Breha Organa. Fascinating stuff!

Benediction by @misskirby (gen, one-shot, 3.3k words, Obi-Wan & Anakin) Each new fic by @misskirby destroys me, and this one is no different except it's destroying me with HAPPY THINGS and POSITIVE EMOTIONS for once. My heart hurts just thinking about it, not because it makes me sad, but just in a... ahhh I don't know, the emotions, okay?! Obi-Wan is watching the twins with Anakin in a ROTS-didn't-happen AU and they actually TALK? With their words? And express positive feelings towards each other without being put in horrible situations? Like I said, AU 😂. This is so, so good. (This fic was not posted on May 4th, but @misskirby did post Stride for Stride on that day, which is an excellent fic about Obi-Wan and Anakin sparring for Ahsoka that you all also must read.)

still much that is fair by RaineyDay (gen, 8/8 chapters, 21.1k words, Obi-Wan & Anakin) Massive trigger warning right off the bat for this one, because it starts off with Padawan Obi-Wan trying to commit suicide by throwing himself off of the Temple roof, except instead of dying, he ends up getting caught by -- Anakin?! Somehow he ends up in the future to find out that he's loved, and a good Jedi. Back in his own timeline, Qui-Gon thinks his Padawan has just succeeded in killing himself, and is distraught and has to reckon with their relationship. Don't worry, it has a happy ending! Give Obi-Wan a hug 2k21!

trouble with the curve by jimmytiberius (Cody/Obi-Wan, one-shot, 2.4k words) Modern day baseball AU! Cody is the analytics guy whose job it is to watch Kenobi and how people hit off of him, and Rex is Obi-Wan's normal bullpen catcher. Problem is, Rex is a little hungover, so Cody has to secretly take his brother's place and hope no one notices. Sparks fly!! You guys, this fic is awesome. You don't need to know anything about baseball to read it, though if you do it adds another delightful dimension. Highly recommend! I smile just thinking about this fic!

Lasting Marks by kyitsya (gen, 10/10 chapters, 25.8k words, Obi-Wan & Rex) I reread this fic the other day and it was just as emotionally devastating the second or third time around. It follows Obi-Wan and Rex in the Zygerria arc, except they're trapped in the mines for weeks and things really take a toll. Obi-Wan and Rex's relationship is not one that's explored much in canon, so it's really cool to see a bond form here. I also really like the later subplot with Ahsoka.

Got Me in a Tricky Situation by @dharmaavocado (pre Rex/Obi-Wan, one-shot, 5.2k words) Rex and Obi-Wan are trapped together underneath a collapsed building and they have to literally and metaphorically hold onto each other for support. I absolutely love the descriptions in this one, they're killer (almost literally haha). Some great good ol' fashioned whump. Love it!

A Long Way Down by @kckenobi (gen, one-shot, 3.8k words, Obi-Wan & Anakin) @kckenobi writes truly wonderful fics, but I gotta say I think this is my favorite. Obi-Wan and Anakin are trying to escape Separatists by climbing up a cliff face, but Obi-Wan's injured and he's really struggling to hold on... Oh, everything about this is perfect: the characterizations, the descriptions, the dialogue, everything! I reread this one all the time.

If you like any of these fics, please consider reblogging so they can get more exposure! And if you noticed I missed someone’s Tumblr account, or linked the wrong one, please let me know!

[idreamtofmanderleyagain]

Hot takes about Severus Snape are a wierdly decent glimpse into how a person with progressive values analyses things. Literally every time someone talks about Snape, it’s like this tiny window into how one-dimentionally people actually think.

Recently saw a twitter post that was a fantastic example. Here’s how it goes (paraphrasing):

Person A:“Snape is POC and Queer coded, that’s why you guy’s hate him uwu lol.”

Person B: “Actually I hate him because he was mean and abusive to children under his care uwu but go off I guess lol”

Both of these takes are designed to be dramatic and/or reactionary. They each use partial truths to paint very broad strokes. These are get-em-in-one-hit quips. This is virtue signalling, if you’ll excuse that loaded phrase. Nobody had a substantial conversation, but now everyone who sees their statement knows the high ground they took.

At least a hundred other people chimed in to add their own little quippy hot takes into play, none of which add anything significant, but clearly made everyone feel very highly of themselves.

So many layers of nuance and complex analysis is completely lost in this kind of discussion. On tumblr, you get more of this kind of bullshit, but you don’t have a word count limit, so you guys just spew endless mountains of weak overblown evidence backing up your bullshit arguments, none of which was really about engaging in a real conversation anyway.

Here’s the thing about Snape.

He is a childhood domestic abuse victim. His abuser is a muggle.

He becomes a student at a magical school that takes him away from his abuser and immediately instills in him the idea that being a part of this magical world is a badge of self-worth, empowerment, and provides safety and security - provided that he keeps in line.

There is a war is being waged in that world over his right to exist (he is a half blood).

He is a marginalized person within the context of the narrative, forced to constantly be in the same living space as the children of his own oppressors who are being groomed and recruited into a hate group militia (the pureblood slytherins). They are in turn trying to do the same to him.

He is marginalized person bullied by children who are also part of his oppressor group, but who have “more liberal” leanings and aren’t direct about why he’s being targeted (the mauraders are all purebloods, Sirius, who was the worst offender, was raised in a bigoted household, the same one that produced Bellatrix.).

He had a crush on a girl who is a muggleborn, and therefore she is considered even lesser than him and carries a stigma to those who associate with her. That girl was his only real friend. In his entire life.

For both Snape and Lily, allying themselves to a pureblood clique within their own houses would be a great way of shielding themselves from a measure of the bigotry they were probably facing. There would have been obvious pressure from those cliques to disconnect with one and other.

Every other person who associates with Snape in his adulthood carries some sort of sociopolitical or workplace (or hate cult) baggage with their association. Some of them will physically harm and/or kill him if he steps out of line. He hasn’t at any point had the right environment to heal and adjust from these childhood experiences. Even his relationship with Dumbledore is charged with constant baggage, including the purebloods who almost killed him during their bullying getting a slap on the wrist, the werewolf that almost killed him as a child being placed in an authority position over new children, etc. Dumbledore is canonically manipulative no matter his good qualities, and he has literally been manipulating Snape for years in order to cultivate a necessary asset in the war.

He is a person who is not in the stable mental state necessary to be teaching children, whom has been forced to teach children. While also playing the role of double agent against the hate group militia, the one that will literally torture you for mistakes or backtalk or just for fun. The one that will torture and kill him if he makes one wrong move.

Is the math clicking yet? From all of this, it’s not difficult to see how everything shitty about Snape was cultivated for him by his environment. Snape was not given great options. Snape made amazingly awful choices, and also some amazingly difficult, courageous ones. Snape was ultimately a human who had an extremely bad life, in which his options were incredibly grim and limited.

In fact, pretty much every point people make about how shitty Snape is as a person makes 100% logical sense as something that would emerge from how he was treated. Some if it he’s kind of right about, some of it is the inevitable reality of suffering, and some of it is part of the cycle of abuse and harm.

Even Snape’s emotional obsession with Lily makes logical sense when you have the perspective that he literally has no substantial positive experiences with other human beings that we know of, and he has an extreme, soul destroying guilt complex over her death. Calling him an Incel mysoginist nice guy projects a real-world political ideology and behavior that does not really apply to the context of what happened to him and her.

Even Snape’s specific little acts of cruelty to certain students is a reflection of his own life experiences. He identifies with Neville; more specifically, he identifies his own percieved emotional weaknesses in his childhood in Neville. There’s a very sad reason there why he feels the urge to be so harsh.

Snape very clearly hates himself, in a world where everyone else hates him, too. Imagine that, for a second. Imagine total internal and external hatred, an yearning for just a little bit of true connection. For years. Imagine then also trying to save that world, even if it’s motivated by guilt. Even if nobody ever knows you did it and you expect to die a miserable death alone.

There are more elements here to consider, including the way Rowling described his looks (there may be something in there re: ugliness and swarthy stereotyping). These are just the things that stand out the most prominently to me.

J.K. Rowling is clearly also not reliable as an imparter of moral or sociopolitical philosophies. I don’t feel that her grasp of minority experiences is a solid one, considering how she picks and chooses who is acceptable and who is a threat.

All of that said, this is a logically consistent character arc. Within the context of his narrative, Snape is a marginalized person with severe PTSD and emotional instability issues who has absolutely no room available to him for self-improvement or healing, and never really has. And yes, he’s also mean, and caustic, and verbally abusive to the students. He’s also a completey miserable, lonely person.

There are elements in his character arc that mirror real world experiences quite well. If nothing else, Rowling is enough of an emotional adult to recognise these kinds of things and portray something that feels authentic.

In my opinion, it’s not appropriate to whittle all this down by comparing him directly to the real world experiences of marginalized groups - at least if you are not a part of the group you are comparing him to. There have been many individuals who have compared his arc to their own personal experiences of marginalization, and that is valid. But generally speaking, comparing a white straight dude to people who are not that can often be pretty offensive. This is not a valuable way to discuss either subject.

Also, I believe that while it’s perfectly okay to not like Snape as a character, many of the people who act like Person B are carrying Harry’s childhood POV about Snape in their hearts well into their own adulthood. And if nothing else, Rowling was attempting to say something here about how our perspectives (should) grow and change as we emotionally mature.  She doesn’t have to be a good person herself to have expressed something true about the world in this instance, and since this story is a part of our popular culture, people have a right to feel whatever way they do about this story and it’s characters.

The complexity of this particular snapshot of fictionalized marginalization, and what it reveals about the human experience, cannot be reduced down to “he’s an abuser so he’s not worth anyone’s time/you are bad for liking him.”

And to be honest, I think that it reveals a lot about many of us in progressive spaces, particularly those of us who less marginalized but very loud about our values, that we refuse to engage with these complexities in leu of totally condemning him. Particularly because a lot of the elements I listed above are indeed reflected in real world examples of people who have experienced marginalization and thus had to deal with the resulting emotional damage, an mental illness, and behavior troubles, and bad decisions. Our inability to address the full scope of this may be a good reflection of how we are handling the complexity of real world examples.

Real people are not perfect angels in their victimhood. They are just humans who are victims, and we all have the capacity to be cruel and abusive in a world where we have been given cruelty and abuse. This is just a part of existing. If you cannot sympathise with that, or at least grasp it and aknowledge it and respect the people who are emotionally drawn to a character who refects that, then you may be telling on yourself to be honest.

To be honest, this is especially true if you hate Snape but just really, really love the Mauraduers. You have a right to those feelings, but if you are moralizing this and judging others for liking Snape, you’ve confessed to something about how you’ve mentally constructed your personal values in a way I don’t think you’ve fully grasped yet.

I have a hard time imagining a mindset where a story like Snape’s does not move one to empathy and vicarious grief, if I’m honest. I feel like some people really just cannot be bothered to imagine themselves in other people’s shoes, feeling what they feel and living like they live. I struggle to trust the social politics of people who show these kinds of colors, tbh.

But maybe that’s just me.

[bestialchorus]

The Invisible String- Chapter 5 (Final)

You feverishly kiss Donna back while rushing into the hallway, your grip tightens as she pulls you flush against her. To think, just hours earlier a simple grazing of skin burned your flesh like acid. But now you eagerly embrace each other’s desperate desire, welcoming all that was originally hidden in the darkness as it rises to the surface. You never could have predicted the woman returning your feelings, let alone with such vigor. You’ve only kissed and yet, Donna kisses you as if she’s trying to express something that cannot be said through words, speaking a language only possible through love and lust. Every touch is making it harder for you to keep your composure.

For a split second you think about heading to Donna’s room, only to quickly abandon the idea once you remember it’s full of dolls. You assume it best for all parties if you were away from prying eyes. The only witness to your passions is the grandfather clock you run by as you awkwardly enter your room, shutting the door behind you with a kick of your foot, your hands much too preoccupied to help.

Brilliant rays of sunlight shine into your window, illuminating the cozy room you’ve been occupying for the past year.

The bed dips under Donna as you lower her as gently as you can despite the haste in your movement. But the dollmaker has no intention of separating, you smile as she brings you down with her, bracing your hands on either side of her head. The plush bed anchors you as reality begins to melt away, all that exists is Donna and the little sounds of pleasure she exudes as you kiss her harder….but you want more, no, you needmore.

Donna almost protests when she feels your lips leave hers, only to release a small sigh once you start peppering kisses along her jawline. Already she feels slightly delirious, slowly catching her breath as you lovingly mark her skin and mark her you do. Donna cradles your face as you trial down her neck, softly gasping as you start to leave a hickey, her alabaster skin quickly bruises. The sensation is new for her but hardly an unwelcome one as she feels her core pulse, her body embracing, no, aching, for more. Warmth plagues her skin, making her head feel heavy as her physical desires start to take over. You make your way back to her lips, lightly nipping at her skin, leaving as many “signs” of your love as you can. You selfishly want to let the world know she is yours and you are hers. It’s primitive and a bit animalistic but you can’t help it, there’s something about the woman with veil trying to hold back her erotic sounds as you make her yours that brings out another side of you. The image of her snowy skin turning pinker as every touch overwhelms her is almost intoxicating.

When you finally pull away, heavy breathing fills the air as you admire each other. Her hair is sprayed across the sheets, finally free, crowning her with a dark halo. The image reminds you of the angels you’ve see on stained glass windows, appropriate considering you wish to worship her in every sense of the word. Her gaze locks onto yours, her eye is completely black now, like a void calling for you to get lost within it once more.

Donna places a hand on your cheek, worry evident on her face as her voice brings you back.

“Are you okay, Y/N? Is something wrong?”

You must have been staring at her longer than you realized.

You lightly shake your head, taking a few seconds to look down at her, REALLY look at her before answering. “You’re just……so beautiful, Donna.” You say with a breathy whisper, almost in disbelief of her existence.

Surprise flashes over her face for a few seconds, clearly not expecting such a response. Donna avoids your gaze as her cheeks flare up, her demeanor shrinks as she speaks.

“You just…..you’ve always just been too nice to me, Y/N.” She softly retorts, trying to find the hidden meaning behind your statement. *You don’t have to lie to me, I know what I look like*- she thinks, her expression riddled with insecurity and doubt.

Your eyes slightly narrow as you study her, gaze lingering as you try to process her statement, your expression unreadable as various emotions fill you. It pains you to think Donna believes you taking her bed is you simply being “nice”. But you know addressing a lifetime of anxieties isn’t exactly the best kind of pillow talk, nor is it something that can be helped overnight. But there is something you can do, right here in this moment; you can try to convince her, to show her your feelings go beyond “nice”.

The woman catches something flash over your eyes, but what exactly she can’t pinpoint. You ever so slightly bite your lip as you look away for a second before returning to her.

“I’m glad you think me kind, my love-“ You say while leaning down, your hair framing her face.

*my love* The term of endearment makes her heart skip a beat.

“..but it seems I’ve failed to properly show you how I really feel about you…” The bed creaks under you as you place a knee between her legs, the sudden pressure makes her gulp.

Your gaze locks onto her, “but I think I know how to convince you.” You finish with a low whisper, pressing your leg further against her. Donna loudly whimpers in response, quickly covering her mouth in embarrassment as she feels another pulse ripple through her core. Your own cheeks warm up from how erotic you find the sound…but you can’t help but want to hear more.

You gently remove her hand and give her a chaste kiss, her lips try to follow you as you pull away, wanting to explore your mouth once again.

“You sound as beautiful as you look.” You again overwhelm her with your words alone, your deep stare only adding to their meaning. Though you see disbelief in her eye- she doesn’t look away this time, almost as if this is her way of “compromising”.

You take your time as you lean back, bed creaking from the shift in weight as you straddle the woman, your gazes locked onto each other. Donna looks up at you, gulping as your stare doesn’t waver, instead, noticing your hand slowly start to reach towards her dress. Anticipation fills her veins as you inch closer. But right as you’re about to reach the buttons over her chest, you stop and hover for a bit before pulling back. Donna tries to suppress the anxiety that tells her “you’ve come to your senses” about wanting the one-eyed mutant. She instead tries to decipher the idea that flashes over your eyes. You catch the woman off guard, suddenly ripping your own outfit off with visible determination. You throw the clothing behind you with little care, showing no acknowledgement as it hits the floor.  

You think it may be more comfortable for the dollmaker if you were naked first…and by the way she looks at you, you may be right.

Donna’s eye travels over your figure as sunlight highlights every detail. She looks up at you with what can only be described as awe, as if she was looking at an ethereal being for the first time. You never thought much of your body.  But Donna’s expression says otherwise; for there is admiration there, mixed in with something you know too well, hunger.

“Y/N… you’re perfect.” She says earnestly and you can’t help but bashfully look away for a second as a crimson hue emerges over your face. She simply responds with a doting smile as it truly wasn’t her purpose to embarrass you, but she can’t help but adore every aspect of you, physical and all.

*Geez, for someone with little social skills she sure knows to make a girl blush.*  You think while scratching the back of your head.

You try to regain your composure through a joke, “I’m sure you say that to all the girls, Mistress Beneviento.” Your voice low and coy.

Unfortunately, Donna refuses to let you recover, continuing to rattle your composure…all without even trying.

“You’re the only person I’ve ever wanted.”

She says without missing a beat. Her expression is as determined as it is loving, the seriousness behind the statement makes your heart race.

Oh, how you could write poems, novels, of how this moment sets your heart ablaze. How your love for this woman could be read as sermons of worship for those looking for the meaning of life, for you’ve found it in the face that looks back at you…but right now you can’t, for your mind is only full of static. Something is taking over, something more….animalistic. The heat you’ve felt late within the night as you dreamed of this woman is nothing compared to the flames that fill you now. Hell has awakened within you and it’s taking over…

Donna takes notice of how your breathing has quickened. You look down at her like a beast who has cornered its prey, she’s ashamed to admit that it excites her. Her gaze tells you to take her, to satiate your hunger and to not look back…so you do.

You capture her lips in a fevering kiss, running your hands down her dress. She quietly whimpers as she feels you begin to gently massage her chest through the heavy fabric. The pressure sparks heat between her legs, making it harder for her to kiss you as she moans against your mouth. Donna throws her arms over your shoulders as you deepen the kiss, anchoring herself as your tongue explores her.

The temperature in the room rises as Donna starts to realize just how sensitive she is, quickly becoming overwhelmed as your hands travel over her body. The dollmaker’s dress starts to feel tighter the more her arousal begins to grow. The offending fabric suddenly feels too heavy, almost suffocating as she aches for your touch against her skin.

Eventually your hands graze over the buttons on her collar once again, Donna holds you there with a fierce grip. The gesture makes you break the kiss, you look down at her in a slight daze. You’re met with a flushed Donna, her pale skin now wearing a prominent blush. The woman’s gaze travels down your body, taking her time before quickly flickering back towards her hands, squeezing tighter as she tries to tell you what she needs. You take the hint and begin undoing the first button, gently addressing her.

“Are you sure? There’s no rush.” You say with a slight shake to your head, looking to her for consent.

Normally Donna loves your patience but not now, not when she feels as if she could combust at any moment.

“Please, Y/N. Please don’t stop.” She pleads with a rasp to her voice, looking up at you with desperation. The image makes your cheeks burn, creating heat between your legs.

You lower yourself back down to her, matching her whisper. “Okay…” You claim her lips once again, “okay..”

Donna’s grip instantly loosens as you taste her again, hands surrendering as she feels you unbutton the rest of her dress. Your heart drums against your chest as you undo the final button, leaning back as you gently help the woman maneuver out of the outfit, finally removing it and her underwear with it. You toss the articles of clothing to the side, the fabrics gently smack against the floor.

Your eyes fall onto the woman before you. Donna sits on her knees; hands covering her chest as goosebumps naturally form over her newly bare skin. She wears a bashful look, trying not to retreat as your gaze travels over her. You notice the occasional patch of mutation over the right side of her body, very similar to her eye. But just like the rest of her face, the rest of her body is equally porcelain in nature. Everything about it is just so……perfectly Donna. You cup her face and softly smile at her.

“Thank you for trusting me…” You whisper while lightly caressing your thumbs over her cheeks. The woman hangs off your every word, taking in all of you as you take in all of her.

“Thank you for letting me see you…..but now I want to show you how beautiful I find you.”

Your words make her heartbeat quicker.

You position yourself behind her, brushing her hair away over a shoulder as your lips meet the back her neck. She relaxes under your touch, exposing more of her skin to you as she leans into your kisses. A sigh escapes Donna as she feels your hands trace over her the outline of her shoulders, lightly grazing over her skin with the pads of your fingertips, leaving goosebumps in their wake. Your amazed of how smooth she feels; even the bumps of her mutation feel almost inhumanely soft. Her skin feels less like skin and something more akin to satin.

“My gods, Donna..” You rest your head on top of her shoulder, looking down as you watch your hands makes their way towards her chest, slowly caressing up her body.  

“You’re so soft.” You coo against her ear as you cup her breasts, making a shiver run down the dollmaker’s spine. Donna feels heat pool in her core as you massage her chest, quicky losing clarity as you lovingly fondle her. She moans, slightly squirming as she feels your fingers delicately claim her nipples, rubbing them between your index and thumb. To no surprise, your Mistress is quite sensitive, the nerves in her body ignite as her peaks pebble between your fingers. Her heavy breathing arouses you, making you release a shaky breath against her ear as your eyes shut for a moment. The sensation has her desperately seek your lips once again, turning her face towards with you with a silent plea.

Your mouths meet and her lips burn your flesh. Her moans fill you as her hands suddenly cover yours. Donna slightly keels over as your lips claim her shoulders, bed creaking under your weight as you singe her skin with more hickeys. Your dominate begins to hand glide down her body, making the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. You only have two hands and yet it’s becoming harder for the dark-haired woman to pinpoint where exactly she begins, and where you end. With every passing second your bodies blend more into each other, becoming one as your desires finally meet.

Donna takes a breath in as the tips of your fingers inch towards her sex, biting her lip in anticipation as you move a bit too slow for her.

“Please…” she rasps, already lightheaded.

You loudly moan into her ear as your fingers enter her with ease, realizing how wet she is, she’s practically dripping. “Fuck…”

Donna immediately covers her mouth as you easily fill her. At first your pace is slow, trying your best to slowly ease her into it as her walls engulf you. The dollmaker bucks into your touch, body urging you to speed up as she tries to focus on subduing her sounds but failing as they become louder from behind her hands.

“Please let me hear you, Donna. I want to hear you.” You breathe into her ear.

You accentuate the point by lightly biting her neck. You quickly make sure to soothe the sensation by running your tongue over it and sealing it with kisses. Too overwhelmed to refute, the dollmaker throws a hand to your cheek and the other over your hand, supporting herself as vocalises everything she feels.

Her sweet sounds fill the air; whimpers making your head spin and moans making you quicken your pace. The beast still rules you, telling you to mark her so the world knows she belongs to you but there’s something else here, something much softer. Donna begins to pant against your ear, making your core burn but that doesn’t matter right now, for all you want is for her to feel sweet release. You start pumping in and out of her as quickly as you can, hand starting to cramp up, but you don’t dare slow down.

Donna’s hand tightly grips yours as she finally keels over, landing on all fours as your body mounts her from behind, your hand never leaving her centre. You decide to try something out…

“You’re so beautiful, my love.” You praise her as you nip at her ear, making her whine and you decide to push further. You continue to whisper sweet affirmations, this in combination with your fingers pumping in and out of her makes her tightly clutch the sheets, knuckles turning white. You tell your Mistress how erotic she is, how her lovely mewls stir something deep within you, pressing your body further against her from behind. Wetness starts to drip down her thigh.

Without warning, the dollmaker loudly moans, her body slightly spasms once your fingers find a certain spot. Her legs start to shake as you repeatedly press against it, confirming your discovery.

“There! Please there!” She cries, rutting harder against your hand, desperately trying to add more pressure.

You answer her plea by tightening your grip over her body and suddenly upping your pace until its relentless. Your carnal desires take over as you hook your fingers into her, filling her as deep as you can while your palm roughly hits against her clit. Donna is barely holding herself up as you rail into her, pleasure clouding her mind as you grunt against her ear.

“Y/N…” She says in between ragged whimpers.

You involuntarily buck against her, your body moving on its own as you take her both from the front and from behind. You ferally pound against your mistress.

Your voice comes out heavy with desire, as you and Donna are cheek to cheek.

“Come for me, Donna….I want you to come for me, baby.”

Hearing your voice finally sends her over the edge…

The dollmaker almost blacks out as she comes with a cry, all of her builtup pressure finally released as her body goes limp. The woman would have collapsed onto the bed if you weren’t there to support her, you hold her flush against you. You lovingly kiss Donna’s face as you continue to gently finger her, slowing your pace as you help her come down from her high.

“You did so good, my love.” You comfort the limp woman in your arms, gently lowering her onto the bed as she tries to catch her breath. She looks up at you through hooded eyes, a lazy smile on her face as she feels completely at ease, it’s as if she’s released some sort of weight, she somehow feels lighter.

You return her smile and bring your hand to your mouth. You lick your fingers clean, keeping your gaze locked onto her, waiting for her reaction. A sudden blush appears on Donna’s face, eyes widening in realization as she gulps.

“You taste delicious, Mistress.” You say playfully.

The woman lays there stunned as another pulse sparks her core, blush deepening.

“Is that..possible?” Her voice quiet but carrying genuine curiosity.

For some reason you find the question endearing and you feel that softness once again. Without thinking you straddle her and lower yourself until you’re face to face. Her eye travels over you but different this time, it’s as if she was looking at you with fresh eyes, as if you’re still Y/N but meeting you again for the first time. You gently kiss where her right eye should be, taking a pause to look at her as you press another kiss to her lips. Your actions make you realize what this softness is…but you want to show her, just, without the beast.

She happily sighs as you she feels you kiss down her body, bringing her hands to your hair once again, lightly caressing your scalp. This is when Donna notices healed lash marks down your back, narrowing her eye as she tries to process them during the quiet moment. Confusion and worry fill her but right as she’s about to raise concern, she feels you kiss her inner thighs. Her gaze meets yours and without warning you give her sex a languid lick, never breaking eye contact. Donna bucks against you, feeling her arousal return as your tongue continues to worship her.

It doesn’t take long for pressure to build up within the dollmaker, her thighs tightening around your head as you suck on the sensitive bundle of nerves between her legs. But right as you feel her release coming, you stop- much to Donna’s disappointment as she whines. But you don’t leave her waiting for long as you quickly move back up her body, straddling her as you capture her lips once again.

But before she can register what’s happening you start to grind against her, rubbing your sex against hers. Donna holds you tight against her chest (consciously making sure she doesn’t disturb your marks), eye shut while gasping into your mouth as she loses herself to the sensation. It feels both heavenly and sinful. Sweat starts to run down your forehead as you give into the carnal pleasure, equally losing yourself to the moment. That is…until you look down at her.

The beast starts to fade away again, desperately trying to clutch at your senses but it’s no match for her…no one is. Your heart swells when you look at her, wound up to no end, hair in complete disarray as sounds of pleasure leave her. You now understand what the softness is…and it terrifies you. Insecurity riddles you once again as you ferally rut against her, feeling her wetness down your thigh. Donna arches her back off the bed as she’s about to come once again, further pressing herself against you as her toes curl.

No. Do not allow fear to blind you. Give yourself to her, ALL of you just as she has to you. Speak your truth and be brave, for she deserves that…and maybe..just maybe, so do you.

You feverishly capture her lips again and she matches your passion. “Donna? Donna, please look at me.” You almost plea between kisses.

Her eye flashes open, you see very little white in it, and you wonder if it’s a side effect on her mutation, regardless- it only adds to her beauty in your eyes. Donna struggles to keep your gaze as she feels you begin to speed up, responding with a shaky cry and you almost come then and there. But with the little composure you have, you speak.

“I love you…”  You begin pounding into her with everything you have, the bed loudly squeaking under you. You press your forehead against hers as you continue, your entire body tensing up as your gaze locks onto hers.

“I love you, Iloveyou,Iloveyou, Iloveyou!!” You chant over and over again as you finally bring her over the edge. Donna arches her back and violently slams against the bed with a harrowing sob. Her eye rolls into the back of her head, nails digging into your back until she quickly goes slack under you. You come just seconds later; your voice caught in your throat as the smallest sound leaves you. You see stars before immediately collapsing onto the dollmaker.

The heavy breaths of you and your lover fill the air, a small smile appears on your face as you feel her hands embrace you, holding you in her arms. You hear her sniffle and use what little strength you have; you look at her. Remnants of tears can be seen in the corner of her eye and concern covers your face. But before you can comment Donna speaks.

“It’s okay, you didn’t hurt me, Y/N. Just a bodily response to overwhelming…feelings.”

Your worry is replaced with guilt. “I shouldn’t…so quickly- I should have waited-“  You’re stopped by her finger gently pressing over your lips.

“Shhhhh, believe me when I say I enjoyed every second of it. You would know if I didn’t.” She finishes with a warm smile. She’s right, you would. You can tell when Donna is lying or feeling uncomfortable by her voice alone and currently you don’t hear any discomfort in it (or see any for that matter).

Her smile suddenly becomes bashful as she awkwardly looks away from you, forcing herself to meet your gaze again as she speaks.

“I..I just wanted to say..” She gulps and anxiously stares as you as she works up the courage to continue. Whenever Donna struggled to say something, you always told her the same thing, time and time again; take your time, there’s no rush.

You decide to reposition yourself so you’re holding her in your arms, you place a kiss against her forehead.

“Take your time, there’s no rush.” You lovingly say as you bring the comforter over both of you. This seems to give her the courage she needs.

“I..I-I love you too, Y/N. Truly I do.” You smile at her as she characteristically blushes, and you tenderly kiss her once again. Though she hasn’t voiced it yet, the head of House Beneviento would kiss you for the rest of her life if she could. When you pull back you stop just a breath away and push some stray hair behind her ear. The air shifts as you address her, your voice soft but steady.

“I can’t believe it took us this long to say it….we make quite the pair.” You finish with a playful tone and Donna responds without skipping a beat.

“At least you didn’t have to get advice from the other lords…” She admits sheepishly.

Your mouth hangs agape in shock. Donna goes on to explain how she went to her fellow Head of the Houses for confessional advice, apparently some advice ended up being more helpful than others. She also admits that certain “meeting” days was simply a coverup so she could spend time at Castle Dimitrescu. Lady Dimitrescu and her daughters were especially helpful with listening and giving Donna the confidence boost she needed to tell you.

Donna tries her best to impersonate each of the animated members of House Dimitrescu and you listen intently, enjoying very much how comfortable she seems without her veil. It feels as if a wall has disappeared between you, and you couldn’t be more grateful. She giggles when remembering how defeated Alcina looked once the young women started suggesting “sexy” lingerie as “bait” (an idea she immediately shot down, but they continued anyway). You allow her to relive her memories, admiration in your eyes until a sudden realization hits you.

“Oh my gods, Donna…”

She looks at you, curiosity evident on her face.

“…..you seduced me. I can’t believe you would use your prodigious title to seduce a poor, innocent painter like myself. The rumors are worse than world could have ever imagined, Donna Beneviento; devious seducer of young maidens…who could have guessed.” You say while feigning shock. You add to your over-the-top performance by clutching imaginary pearls, hand splayed across your forehead.

Donna gives you the lightest smack on your arm while giggling but decides to play along.

“Oh, what will innocent maidens do with a menace like me on the loose?”

In a fluid motion you straddle her once again, lowering yourself to her face as you whisper.

“I suppose it’s up to me to help satiate your hunger. It’s the only way everyone will be safe.”

A pleased smile emergences on Donna’s face, happy of where the moment is going. “Are you willing to make such a sacrifice?”

You raise an arched eyebrow at her in response, fighting back a smile. You look down at her for a few seconds before going to whisper into her ear, your voice heavy with suggestion.

“That depends, how hungry are you Mistress?”

She answers your question by grabbing your face and bringing your lips back to hers, telling you she has an insatiable appetite but maybe just maybe, you’ll be able to help with that.

[bitchineering]

Lets go! Day 1: Let’s learn HOW the frick to study

So this I think is the most important thing to do and really it is insane that in the United States (which is where I am from by the way) students have no idea on how to freaking study. Honestly all of this gets me incredibly frustrated because with the internet we have the ability to share information and I’ll tell you that I am one of those people who have scavenged the internet and picked apart what I could find. Here’s another big problem: not everything someone does will work for you. 

Also just the spread of dumb study information is pretty terrible. If I do counter anything I will leave a paper or my citation just because I believe in putting down sources and showing others how to research and why citing is freakin important. 

Let’s get started: I’m going to summarize everything that will be in here for a second

1. Find your method of studying, find out everything. AND I MEAN EVERYTHING. You need to write down how you study (the different types of study people) but also the classes because people study sciences different than humanities. 

2. Find out your most productive state. If this means it is you at 2 am in a suit and jacket than that means you need to leave procrastination station and be studying during that time. Now I am not totally okay with people studying in a suit for one it is uncomfortable, I think a jeans and a clean tshirt is just as good. If you can be productive in sweatpants or pjs then go for it. I know I am not and it doesn’t work when I dress for relaxation.

Okay, I’ll be going into more in depth of mainly the first one but a bit of the second.

To start off the bat, if you have time watch this lecture https://youtu.be/IlU-zDU6aQ0 by Marty Lobdell. You have probably heard the saying before and one thing that makes me so frustrated within the study community is that others use this statment without giving any real examples. I feel like Lobdell does this as well as he doesn’t describe note taking and I do believe before putting down a material, you have to take notes. (All he mentions is handwriting notes and I do believe in that. You cannot really type notes and expect to learn the material). 

Another source I would suggest is the Vark Quiz (https://vark-learn.com/the-vark-questionnaire/) Learn what type you are (I’m a Kinesthetic!) and read what they give you. I’m not going to say you will perfectly match with your description but if you are starting from ground zero, this is an amazing place to see what might work for you instead of you having to come up with different technques on your own. 

I get so annoyed when people use the pomodoro method as a way to study. It is not a way to study. It is a way to schedule your study time. Also, I don’t think you can do much in 25 minutes or maybe it is just me. Usually I work for an hour or 50 minutes and then take a ten minute break. All you need to do is find out what works for you. 

Okay let’s get into classes, first there is an amazing youtuber named Nathan Wu who made this video (https://youtu.be/pdAt8JhBnMU and there is a part 2 but I’ll let you guys find it). He is a very good study youtuber that I do like to watch sometimes and I do appriciate that he is spreading correct information. I can give you guys an example of what worked for me in some of my classes (I also just wanna say I won’t be putting my grades on here nor anything really. I don’t feel comfortable being compared to others because I already have to deal with it at my own institution and peers. Please don’t compare yourself to others).

Chemistry (Wu also does include this subject in his video):

- Write notes and explanations for the love of god. Like please just write notes. 

- Also apply those notes. If you are confused in one area ask someone for help whether that be your teacher or someone else. 

-I would say to use flashcards, but I’m honestly a big quizlet user (I haven’t used Anki I’m a little weird and I get so annoyed when I use something that is popular. I sadly give off the “i’m not like other girls vibe”). When I use quizlet every time I get an answer wrong I write down the definition. I can explain this more because you can do this with notecards as well and probably Anki but I like the mobility of quizlet. 

-Labs... I do like doing some labs. I miss my older ones from Honors Chemistry, I barely do good labs in AP Chemistry, but at the same time you have to do them. This could be for any science class because knowing how to apply your information is the best way to test your knowledge that isn’t practice questions (If you need labs look up a virtual simulation. While it isn’t the same thing they are usually free and if not you can find some on youtube).

- Practice problems (this more or less goes with your grading point instead of studying. While I do believe the overall goal in studying is that you understand and can apply the topic tests are so different in many things). As stated before I have taken Honors Chemistry, so I used test prep from my teacher and was able to form questions similar to how she asked them on the quiz. In AP Chemistry I’ve been able to use the online resources from other teachers and AP Classroom. I will say AP Chemistry it is much harder to write my own questions because AP Chemistry is just really hard in general, but finding FRQ practices I believe is one of the best ways you can work on it (Honestly it may be just me but doing FRQs or written essays for answers is so much better than multiple choice because this allows you to practice giving explanations and learning where your gap of knowledge is).

Another study technique I like to do is called the Feynmann technique. This is such a great way to apply knowledge without doing test prep because you need to essentially master your subject before test prep. This method includes creating a study plan for someone else, you need to teach someone else (or something else) what you’re learning and have them ask questions. Know I know this doesn’t really work well for some people including myself because I don’t really have others to talk to when I study but talk to yourself. (sometimes I talk to a ghost or a plushie in my room. I have little trinkets on my desk of which a tiger egg and a Chick Fil A cow plushie wearing a sunflower dress. Just try it, it might seem weird but you got to). If you can’t have others ask you questions say everything you can remember (and maybe do this on a google doc with the voice chat box open, I would say record yourself but I hate hearing my own recordings). Then, once you have finished look through your notes and see what you got correct and what you got wrong. If you did use a google docs then write what you meant to say like: “I said this... but this was incorrect because of this...”

For study schedule or something related to studying I would say watch these videos: https://youtu.be/-m2Ua5Y0mzc and https://youtu.be/OYuhkaOPKcM. Both are by youtubers who I do like to watch and follow what they do. I would say to look through Alicia’s youtube a bit more if you like electronic organization AND the true studyblr (girl can do beautiful calligraphy). I believe I align more with Keo Tsang, who studies later at night rather than earlier than the morning. Tsang does get more hours of sleep than me (haha). If you are in high school please don’t do what he does though. I try to go to bed by midnight because then I’ll get six hours of sleep, and I can sleep on the bus (it takes me an hour to get to school). I also have a free first period where I can sleep if I need to or catch up on work from last night if I didn’t do it. I do like to work when there is sunlight but also coming home from school and taking a detox or a break is so much better for my mental health. I know it will be different when in university but I’d just say this to any high school student, please do a mental detox. Don’t go on social media and scroll endlessly maybe listen to some music, read a book, take a walk/run, my sister would bake after a long stressful day and her food- while not the best- got her in a good mood. 

I think this is all I’ll write today. I still need to do so much work myself haha but I am a big procrastinator and also I did have a break down a little while ago. Just know you are worth everything and in the end, every problem is going to have some type of solution even if there is no solution. Your life doesn’t need to be answered today or tomorrow so let’s work on becoming better students one step at a time :)

[diavolosthots]

Could you make a fic about mc becoming an angel and (her boyfriend) Lucifer is uncomfortable with it? But that mc will (literally) fall for him

Bro dude I ... Hope this is what you wanted

Warning: mild angst-> happy ending, mention of a fight, mentions of death

Please, No. ( LUCIFER X GN!READER )

He couldn’t believe it. For all these years, he had hoped, prayed even, that he left his past behind him. Rarely ever did he speak of things far beyond that fateful day where he swore loyalty to his Lord. Never ever did he dare to speak of things that happened up in the clouds. He was grounded, standing on two feet, no longer seeking the softness of a feather or the peace of a sunny morning. Lucifer was happy this way; he was happy drowning out his past and forgetting about it. When you came along, he almost dared utter the words to find the perfect way to describe you, but he never did. No matter how wonderful you were, how sweet and kind and bright your soul was, you weren’t one of them. When he found out you had a part of them inside you, every fiber of his being screamed to rip it out, piece by piece, atom by atom. He felt betrayed, played by his own father for putting someone like you into his life only for there to be a catch.

Your death already grieved him, no matter how much he tried to prepare. Humans aren’t meant to live that long, and suddenly his endless life seemed a little too long as well, “Goodbye, my sweet Darling… Until we meet again…” It was comforting in the moment, a last kiss to your forehead before you truly parted and he tried to move on. But it never played out like that, did it? No. You returned. Not as a ghost, as someone, something he hated with a burning passion. Something he swore to never willingly look at or think about it again, yet here you were standing in front of him, proud in white as he once was, “(Y/N)...” Your name left his lips in both shock and disgust at what you had become. Of course, part of him knew you would end up there. You were just too… good not to, but he didn’t think you would become one of them; that doesn’t happen. Unless, of course, you were one of them all along, and that’s when he silently began to curse his sister. 

He tried, really. He tried to pull you back into his arms as if nothing was wrong, but the way your white feathers brushed against his cheek made him cringe and tense up, quickly pulling away to leave you. It wasn’t your fault, he tried to tell himself. You can’t choose your bloodline… it was mere coincidence… but the longer he stared, the more he noticed you, the brighter you seemed to get and he almost flinched when you entered the room. It brought back memories, too many, of himself that he couldn’t deal with; too much pain he thought he had shoved down. Of course, you were in pain, too. You love Lucifer, he is your everything. You felt like soulmates when you were with him, as silly as that sounds. “Lucifer…” But every time you called out, he shied away, too distraught and caught up in his own feelings to notice yours. 

He was hurting, you could tell. Of course you could tell, and it hurt your heart just as much as it hurt his, “Talk to me, Lucifer.” But he couldn’t, even when you forced him to stop, when you grabbed his arm and stopped him and he pulled it back with a hiss, as if you had just burnt him. “Lucifer!” “No! Please, (Y/N), I cannot bear the sight of you like this.” He thought, he hoped that that would be all the explanation you’d need, but you were always so stubborn, “then I’ll change! Lucifer, please… I love you…” The demon scoffed, barely able to hold eye contact, “change? You’re an angel now, (Y/N). You became everything I vowed to hate. You are everything I hate. Looking at you… crushes me. It makes me sick, and you’ll never understand why. Leave.” Even with emotions as raw and open as they were, you still didn’t understand, you still tried to reach out for him and pull him back, but he couldn’t. Not this time. 

You cried. For days, you cried, begging him to let you in again, but he always said the same thing, “you don’t understand.” But he was just as much against you falling as he was against you being an angel. He looked at you with a stern face, as he looked at anyone with a stern face, but his eyes held hurt, and agony. His gloved hands curled into fists and you notice his jaw clench and lock every time he sees you. You know he didn’t truly hate you, but he was killing you. Lucifer was your other half and you needed him, and that’s why you went against his wishes. 

He hadn’t heard from you. No begging, no crying, no pleading. For a while, he thought that this was it and it felt to him like he was experiencing your death all over again, until the screams started, the turmoil. The demon jumped from his chair, looking outside his window to see what was happening, right as a glowing light flew from the sky, “no…” Of course he knew it was you and he rushed to reach the sight where you fell. He ran, pushing people out of his way as he called out for you, “(Y/N)!” But of course it was too late. You crashed hard into the ground, much like he did eons before you. Your wings were burned, turned charcoal black and barely a fraction of what they used to me. Carefully, he unwrapped them from your body, a motion of defense and protection, natural for any angel. The wings might be the most sensitive part, but they’re strong and help shield. 

“Darling…” His voice was soft, a hand reaching out to hold your bruised and burnt body, slowly cradling you up in his arms, “(Y/N)...” he called out once more, slowly brushing over your cheek. So many emotions ran through him; anger, sadness, hope, love. He was so angry with you for not just letting it be; for being a foolish human turned angel. Tears blurred his vision as he screamed out in frustration, for once not caring if anyone saw. His own wings sprung from his back, slowly curling inward around you. Horns… they poked out through your head, slowly manifesting as the reality of it all slowly set in. He pushed you against his chest, holding you tightly as his own head dropped against yours. People were talking, they were watching him, mocking him; pitying him. None of that mattered, though. A soft gasp escaped your lips and he immediately pulled you up, his wings still shielding the two of you. 

“L-Lucifer…” You coughed softly, leaning against him and resting your head on his shoulder, “I did it.. For you…” Your voice cracked, tears slowly forming and spilling over as you sobbed in his embrace. His heart ached as he brought you even closer, resting his own head against your shoulder, your new horns colliding with his. “You’re okay…. Don’t ever do that again…” You chuckled softly, sniffling, “I can’t… I’m damned for eternity.” He pulled back with a frown, cradling your face in his gloved hands, “I’m sorry… I’m sorry you thought you had to go this far for me to continue to love you…” You nodded slowly, smiling sadly as you leaned into his touch, “it’s okay… I’d do it again.. Just to be with you.”