#I hope the person whose tags I reblogged sees this

[starlostseungmin]

husband!minho

✰ notes: third entry of my husband!skz series and as for who won the poll, it’s minho’s turn!! minor warning: sex is mentioned but nothing happened!! i hope you guys enjoy!! not proofread. DO NOT FORGET TO REBLOG, COMMENT AND LEAVE TAGS! thank you <33

seungmin , chan（ lee know ） jeongin , han , changbin , felix , hyunjin.

ꔛ

Husband Minho who asked, “Will you be the mother of my three kids?” instead of “Will you marry me?” on one random afternoon when you were both playing with his cats at his parents’ house. It served as his proposal and gave you a jingle ball because he didn’t have a ring with him at that time. 

Husband Minho who used to be a tsundere and nonchalant person but later changed into a fully affectionate bunny the moment he fell for you. 

Husband Minho who got emotional during the wedding day but tried to hold his tears back since it was expected that his friends would tease him later. He gave up eventually and cried when you slow danced with him at the reception. 

Husband Minho who teased you a lot but in a loving way. He tends to be a menace sometimes but it wasn’t bad. Your big baby just loves to play with you. 

Husband Minho who pretends to be annoyed when you ask for a kiss but deep inside he wants to smother you with all the love you deserve. Eventually, he couldn’t keep it to himself so he cuddles you with lots and lots of kisses. 

Husband Minho who spoils you with his five Michelin-star cooking skills and serves you high-quality food. He is the happiest when you compliment him and finish everything on your plate. 

Husband Minho who loves to drag you along when he goes camping and offers to take care of everything while you rest. He’d only ask for minor tasks from you to help him. 

Husband Minho who sends you weird selfies and cat pictures when you’re not together and says he misses you with the kids (his cats). 

Husband Minho who listens to your worries and gives constructive criticisms but at the same time he comforts you with the things you need to feel better. 

Husband Minho who loves to encourage you to do the things you want as long as it would benefit him and it’s not illegal. “The heart knows what it wants,” He said. “But let’s not go to jail shall we?”

Husband Minho who lets you burst out in anger while he stood there listening to everything. He’s not the type to baby you every time and will be civil when it comes to arguments knowing who is in the right and wrong. 

Husband Minho who will never allow you to sleep unless everything is resolved. He’d be sorry if it was his fault and be the cutest baby bunny that you can’t resist to forgive. This comes along with cuddles and kisses or makeup sex (if you’re both into it). 

Husband Minho whose love languages are acts of service, quality time, and words of affirmation. 

Husband Minho whom you swoon to over and over because of how handsome and cute he is. Never a day you’d miss complimenting him by which he’ll be all red and mushy from being shy. 

Husband Minho who got the interest of touching your butt out of his love and affection. 

Husband Minho who lays on top of you when he sees you lying down on your shared bed the moment he gets home because he’s tired and your presence makes him feel relaxed and secure.  He tends to bury his face in the crook of your neck. 

Husband Minho who is loud and dramatic in the most precious way. 

Husband Minho who never forgets important dates and will throw everything away just to spend time with you. 

Husband Minho who acts like a mother especially when you get sick and is stubborn. 

Husband Minho who is good with kids, and had asked you a few times if you want to have one with him but at the same time he doesn’t want to put pressure on your shoulders. He reassures that he can wait and doesn’t even mind if he spends his lifetime with you alone. 

Husband Minho who feels appreciated and loved when you tell him about the things he means to you and how much you are head over heels for him. 

Husband Minho who gets excited when you give him cat necessities. You wonder that he loves his cats more than you sometimes but he’d say you were equally receiving his love and affection. 

Husband Minho who doesn’t always say he loves you but rather says that you are his getaway from everything. It’s you and him against the world, nothing could replace you as you are his happy place and favorite person. The one who comes second after his cats and knows his priorities but you get the privilege. 

Husband Minho who loves you to the moon and back. 

Husband Minho who treasures you the most and the one he’d put first before everything. 

Husband Minho whom you’ll love for a lifetime, promised to never hurt, never leave, and never break his heart. 

✰ taglist: @notastraykid , @ameliesaysshoo , @l3visbby , @reignessance , @lix-ables , @skzfelixlove , @rachabreathing , @hyunverse , @minluvly , @sleepyleeji , @starseungs , @midsoulz , @oddracha , @armystay89

©️ 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐓𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐌𝐈𝐍 , 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒.

[alilabaroli]

You were supposed to retire. After nine years of living on the outskirts and hoping your past wouldn't catch up to you, you decided to call it quits — your biggest nightmare was proclaimed dead, old faces forgot you, and you were nothing more than folklore by now. But life wouldn't be this easy. Not when a letter from your old tutor arrived, asking for help and raising suspicions, forcing you into your past again.  It's been almost a decade, but you're still Atlas Fyndor. You're still a vision of seers. You're still everything they're afraid of.

Play as a “retired” soldier whose future was taken away, and force your way through court intrigues, messy political matters, and personal vendettas to find your tutor and uncover the mysteries surrounding their disappearance. Prove yourself as a curse or a blessing to the people of Braeles, and see the chance to kill what has been killing you for the past decade.

choose your appearance, sexuality, pronouns, alias, personality and skills;

forge platonic relationships from enemies to foes, gathering enough people to help you with your objectives or to make you the villain;

befriend or romance “one” out of six characters, each one with a unique route and obstacles;

have a bird! A good pet that loves you and clings to you like a child does their mother's skirt;

explore a world full of magic, fantasy, and culture while discovering the mystery behind your tutor's disappearance and your brother's death.

SILVER COMMANDER (the guilt), [they/he], RO., demon.

— There's whispering about the new Head Commander; how their shoulders don't stiff, how their head doesn't bow, and how their cowardice makes him the most deplorable thing in the Army. Regardless, they were chosen by the ruler herself, and no one would dare contest the Queen.

LADY VAMPIRE (the fuel), [she/her], RO., sensitive.

— No person in Braeles wouldn't know about Caroline Dourado's accomplishments. An unfortunate mage who made her way through thick and thin to get where she was. Being under her employee, the rumors weren't entirely far-fetched – Caroline was extremely rude and arrogant. But she was your only way to your objectives.

MADAM DELACORTE (the means), [she/her], RO., human.

— You never thought someone as well-known as Jacqueline Delacorte would require such low-fitting services. As the blossom, the rose, and the charm of Braeles, the deals Jacqueline hid behind her white gloves and flowered fan made you second-guess noble families. But you weren't about to bite the hand that fed you.

FEATHERHANDS (the memory), [he/him], RO., human.

— He glued on you against your will; a laid-back, good-humored thief, Alyk forced his way into your low-profile life until you had no other option but to keep him. It wasn't all in waste, at least – if there's one thing Alyk can do, is to make everything you ask him to. A loyal dog to the end. There's only one way this can go.

EMIR'S HOUND (the blade), [he/him], RO., dragon.

— You may be the worst thing the army could make, but you were never a dog – not like him, not like Terra. And you hate him for it. You hate his loyalty, you hate his fear and you hate the love he swore to have for you. You hate him like it's a religion all by itself; no wonder that still to this day he’s known as Icarus Emir's good dog.

DIAMOND COMMANDER (the mirror), [she/her], RO., obscura.

— As the second in command of the Head Guard, Rhoda Nihiri is a valuable asset to the Crown Circle. She's not to be underestimated, nor cast aside – if her skills aren't enough a reason, then for her connection with Raisa Nihiri, the in-command of the Royal Guard.

DEMO (TBA) | [as of now: I have the Prologue and Chapter 1 half-way through. If everything goes according to plan, I may be able to drop it around march/april.]

reblogs are much appreciated :)

[main tag: 'af:atog']

[sanguineterrain]

hi sanne!!! my mind has been rotting with assistant!reader x dick, and i literally can’t get it out 😭. i'm in love with your writing and reblog everything! thank you so much, have a great day!!

cute idea! I gave it a little twist ;) hope u enjoy!

dick grayson x gn!assistant!reader. flirting, secret identities, sparring.

****

Bruce Wayne is evasive on a good day and downright invisible on a bad one.

So when you see him down the hallway from his office, attempting to escape without being caught, you nearly trip on your feet trying to catch him.

"Mr. Wayne!"

His shoulders rise with tension. You pity the guy, you really do. Being a gazillionaire is tough.

"Mr. Wayne! Mr. Wayne, Sharon has been hounding me about the charity dinner. Please, if you could just go to this one dinner... you haven't been to an event all month."

And you're getting the brunt of it from all of WE's clients.

Bruce turns, his smile looking more like a grimace. "Hn. Hello. A dinner? I was sure I had a shareholder meeting that day—"

"All month? B, what happened to the two event minimum? That's your rule."

The new voice comes from behind you. Dick Grayson walks down the hallway, wearing jeans that probably cost as much as your monthly rent.

"Mr. Grayson," you say, nodding primly. "How are you?"

You shift the files in your hands as they start to slip. Dick is quick to catch them, balancing the stack.

"We've been through this," he says with a smile. "You know you can call me Dick."

Yes, you've been through this. Every time Dick shows up to Wayne Enterprises, he tells you to call him by his first name. And every time after that, you call him Mr. Grayson.

"Right..." you say, taking back the files. You turn to Bruce. "Mr. Wayne, if you would just consider the dinner..."

Dick gives Bruce a severe look. "B, this is ridiculous. You're such a stickler for rules and yet—"

"Oh, look at the time." Bruce scoots past you and Dick. "I've got that meeting with Lucius. Where does the day go? Please tell Sharon I'll get back to her."

You can't understand how a guy whose biggest exertion is made by playing tennis at the country club can slip through your fingers so fast. He's around the corner before you can blink. You sigh.

"Don't worry," Dick says. "I'll get him to go. And I'll get one of my siblings to tag along to make sure he doesn't duck out early."

You smile briefly. "I'd appreciate that, Mr. Grayson."

"Dick. So!" He trails behind you as you make your way back to your office. "Do you have any plans for tonight?"

"Working."

"O-kay..." Dick jogs ahead to hold the door open for you. You push through, trying not to frown. "What about tomorrow night?"

You toss your scarf on the hook. It ends up on the floor. You ignore it.

"Still working."

"How 'bout I ask B to give you the day off then?"

Now it's your turn to give a severe look. "If you're implying that I'd be obligated to go out with you in return for a day off, you've completely misjudged my character, Mr. Grayson."

"Whoa, okay." He holds up his hands. "You're right, that didn't come out right. How about I get him to give you a day off, no strings attached?"

You dump your files and sit at your desk. "That's at your discretion."

"Hey." Dick leans on your desk, puppy eyes at full power. "Maybe we've gotten off on the wrong foot. Did I do something that put you off? I'd like you to tell me if I have. I hope the fact that I'm Bruce's son isn't stopping you from being honest."

You put down your pen and look at him. "Look. You seem like a nice guy, and you're handsome with a rich dad to boot. But I'm just not available, okay? You're looking for someone to go to Tahiti with. I respect that. But I'm not that person. I'm just not interested in that."

"You think I'm handsome?"

You sigh and open your laptop.

"Right! Sorry. Not the point." Dick sinks into a crouch next to you. He pulls the oddest poses sometimes, like he's made of rubber bands. "Okay. You're not looking for a trip to Tahiti. Got it. I don't take many vacations anyway. So how about having a friend?"

"And why would you want to be my friend? I'm just some assistant."

"Well, I..." Dick scratches his neck. "I like you. Is that so hard to believe?"

Very. But okay. You can throw him a bone.

"I guess not," you say.

Dick frowns. "You don't believe me."

How does he do that?

"Can I please get back to work?" you ask, only a little worried about being rude. "I'm sorry, I'm just very busy."

His face falls briefly before he stands and nods.

"Of course. No problem. I'll see you around? And I'll get B to go to that dinner."

"Thank you."

You don't notice his lingering looks, or the fact that he picks up your scarf and places it on the hook on his way out.

****

3...17...64.

The safe clicks. You smirk. Easy peasy. The hotshots always use their own birthdays for combinations. Predictable. You bet Bruce Wayne does the same.

It's a blessing that you were able to duck out early today. Bruce gave you the rest of the afternoon off. You suspect that was due to some outside meddling.

You take out the files from D.A. Colson's safe. You always say that if crooked district attorneys don't want their documents stolen, they shouldn't put them where anybody can find them.

...Maybe you were too harsh with Dick. He's sweet, no doubt. It was nice of him to get you off early. But you kind of feel like he'd take issue with the fact that you spend your weeknights breaking and entering.

"You know, cracking safes is already Catwoman's shtick," a voice says behind you. "You might wanna find a new gimmick."

A thrill shoots through you. You toss your head as you turn, leaning against the open safe.

"Catwoman steals diamonds." You hold up the documents. "I just steal files. And make a few edits."

"That's extremely illegal. Those files belong to the district attorney," Nightwing says, crossing his arms.

"The dirty district attorney," you correct.

"I'm supposed to let you off on a technicality?" He sounds amused.

Your shrug one shoulder, a little coy. "You could. I hear you're the nice one."

He laughs. Nightwing has a pretty smile. It's the first thing you'd noticed about him.

"Oh, yeah? Anything else you've heard?"

"Plenty. But I'm in a bit of a hurry tonight, Wing. As much as I enjoy our little chats..."

You dart to the window. Nightwing easily blocks your exit.

You're not quite sure what overtakes you when you run into Nightwing. Ignoring the fact that he manages to be the one to chase you almost every time (and what a chase it is), there's a tension between you. Or maybe it's just one-sided on your part. It certainly doesn't help that he's got a nice smile and bouncy hair.

"You know I can't let you go," he says, hands on his hips. "Put it down."

And he's extremely good at what he does.

"Make me," you say.

He never uses his escrima sticks, which you know is a courtesy to you. But that doesn't mean you can't hold your own.

"Alright," Nightwing says, smirking slightly.

He takes three steps, blocks your immediate kick, and takes the documents.

Something swoops in your belly. You kind of get why Catwoman exclusively fights Batman. Once you go bat, you never go back.

"Got them," he says cheerily. "Now what?"

You throw a glass bird tchotchke at him from Colson's desk. He catches it with his free hand, but it's enough of a distraction for you to slide into his legs. Nightwing stumbles less than you would like, but you push him down against the desk.

He grunts as he hits the wood, then rolls you over in the next breath, hands catching your wrists.

"Stealing... makes you no better... than Colson," he says, hair falling over his mask. All of him is pretty, really. It's too bad he's so firmly on the blind side of justice. You're trying to help the little people. Batman and his merry band of do-gooders have always been too focused on the small stuff.

"If these documents are buried, Colson will win his case and hide his own crimes in the process. Is that what you want? Another crook in court?" you ask.

Nightwing frowns. "You know that's not fair. We can't falsify evidence for the sake of putting Colson behind bars. IF we pick and choose whose lives to play with, what gives us the right to carry out justice?"

"I dunno, Wing," you say, a little breathless. Nightwing's hips are politely shifted off of yours, chest to yours. "Seeing you go rogue would be kind of exciting."

You can tell he's glaring at you. "Not in your dreams."

"Been in my dreams, have you?"

You gain enough leverage to push Nightwing off of you. He's back on you immediately, trapping you against the wall.

"How is doing something like this not crooked?" he asks.

You scoff. "It's for charity. I'm donating residents to the county jail."

You twist in Nightwing's hold and land a kick. In the three seconds he's distracted, you grab the documents. No sooner do you do that does Nightwing tackle you.

"I can do this all night," he says, knee wedged between your legs. "Might as well yield."

"Yield? You're not even playing at your full strength, hotshot."

He smiles. "No, I'm playing nice."

You roll your eyes. "Well, play fair."

And then you land a knee into Nightwing's stomach, roll, and jump out of the window.

Your tuck and roll isn't the worst but it's not the best. Especially when Nightwing neatly lands a few feet away without a wince.

"Showoff," you say.

"Give me the documents," he says. "I want to put Colson away, too. But this isn't how to do it. He's still a civilian, and his clients' lives matter."

You get up and wobble on a loose brick on the edge. Stupid historical buildings.

You're desperate. If he keeps this up, you're bound to land yourself a night in the police station and lose the documents.

So you dust yourself off. And you stop. Right at the edge of the roof.

"Okay," you say.

Nightwing takes a careful step forward. "Okay?"

You toss the documents to him. He catches them in surprise.

"You're surrendering?" he asks.

You shrug. "Like you said: you can do this all night. And I guess there are better ways to catch Colson. More permanent ways."

He tilts his head. "You're not gonna kill him, are you?"

"No! Jesus, man. Ye of little faith."

"I'm just trying to understand why you surrendered."

You sigh. "Because you always win anyway. You're a better fighter than me. And I'm cornered. I just feel like cutting my losses early. You're a lot more convincing than Batman."

"Is that so?"

"Oh, yeah. I much prefer you chasing me."

"Uh-huh." He nods towards the building. "Come on, then."

"Okay, sure."

You take a step. And you fall.

The brick is loose under your foot. It doesn't take much for you to keep going.

Panic surges through you, but that only solidifies your acting.

"Wing!" you cry, toppling over the edge.

"Shit!"

Nightwing lunges and grabs you by your waist, then uses momentum to haul you both to safety. His cheek against yours for a moment, body pressed to yours. It really is a damn shame he's such a Boy Scout.

You knock him in the stomach and snatch the documents, then separate from his grip. You watch his face contort in realization as you land and bolt.

"That wasn't playing nice or fair!" he yells, landing on the opposite side.

You're already gone, laughter echoing.

[jeonghantis]

✧ — HEAVEN ANGEL (y.jh)

PAIRING ⇝ yoon jeonghan x reader.

SUMMARY ⇝

beautiful, everyone had called you. the compliment lost its charm on you, knowing fully well it’s paid only for the surface-level appearance you kept up and nothing else you had to offer. irritating, he had called you. you let him fuck you.

TAGS ⇝ uni!au, fratboy!jeonghan, fwb, smut, a dash of angst (oopsy!).

WARNINGS ⇝ language, fem!reader (she/her), houseparty scene (not exactly detailed), gossip, explicit sexual content (MINORS DNI!), bathroom (mirror) sex, unrequited crush (or is it?), reader has commitment issues, reader is kinda mean, mentions of p*ss and sh*t but not in a sexual manner, just for jokes.

WORD COUNT ⇝ 4.1k words.

note: funnily enough, i had two requests specifically for house party sex with yoon jeonghan. i lost the ask for them both (accidentally deleted while my laptop glitched). i am insane. and before anyone asks, yes there'll be a part two/prequel :) and also this is somewhat connected to my upcoming cheol fic. so i hope you stay tuned! proofread by the star of my life @cheolhub. sar fr put up with every version and my constant anxiety over every paragraph. i couldn't have done it without them. i love u so much. @szakias was also helpful in keeping me sane as i wrote this out 🙇 i love u so bad. loosely based on the song heaven angel by the driver era. don't think it'd go with the fic but you know :)

reblogs & comments are very much appreciated.

explicit tags under the cut.

EXPLICIT TAGS ⇝ semi-public setting (bathroom sex while there's a party), unprotected sex, dom/sub dynamics, mean dom!jeonghan, sub!reader, dumbification, teasing, petnames (angel), degradation (whore, bitch), dacryphilia, marking, briefest thigh-fucking, clit stimulation, cumming inside, squirting, light overstimulation, (a little) aftercare.

A strange rumor went around the campus. A rumor of a person whose beauty was so out of this world that it was terrifying. 

Unreal. Everyone had said. You won’t be able to look her in the eyes! 

But beyond that angelic beauty was a personality so sour, no one dared thought to approach her. Those that tried their luck had it beaten right out of them and they came to hate her to hide their broken hearts.

What a bitch, they had said. Does she think she’s all that?

Yoon Jeonghan, for one, thought they were being overly dramatic. It was a strange and interesting phenomenon how gossip can evolve to add in such theatrics. It was like living in one of those regency novels his sister owned which he had perused over on one particularly boring day. Had these people really had nothing better to do with their lives? Were they trying to live in a novel of their own? Jeonghan never understood them, neither cared for these kinds of things. He’d much rather form his opinions. He had better things to do than to dabble in such frivolity. 

What a stuck-up, one would say. What better things could Jeonghan be doing that puts him above everyone else? 

Oh, fucking the subject of the rumors of course. 

“How irritating,” Jeonghan sighed, abruptly ceasing his thrusts inside you to harshly yank you back by your hair. 

You yelp, a deer in the headlights, when your neck is forcibly craned back, made to look up at his looming figure. You looked pathetic from where you were pinned against the wall, exposed breasts pressed flush against the cool tiles and your mini skirt flipped upwards to reveal the swell of your bare ass flattened against his hip bone.

“I said to keep your voice down,” he tuts. “Do you want the whole house to hear you?” 

“I’m s-sorry,” you stammer out, throat raw and chest heaving. 

“Are you?” He mused with a raised brow, mocking and unbelieving. 

You couldn’t meet his gaze, or at least you tried to. Jeonghan liked to make eye contact, he once told you, for he loved to see your sanity visibly ebb away from your eyes, leaving you a mindless, glassy-eyed whore. You had not reached that stage, not yet, not when some semblance of your being remained clear in your gaze, dilated pupils fearfully wavering back and forth between his simpering face and the bathroom door where a rather large, booming frat party laid beyond.

He cocked his head to the side and tightened his grip on your hair, forcing your eyes back on him. He leaned forward until he’s breathing your air, and all you could do is stare up at him pitifully with quivering lips. “Or…” he starts, his lips twisting cruelly. “Do you want them to hear you? Want them hear how good you’re being fucked right now?”

You remain silent, the lump on your throat bobbing as you swallow hard. But your walls tighten around him and Jeonghan couldn’t help the curve of his lips.

“You’re really weird, you know that?” Jeonghan sighed, releasing his hold on you. A lithe finger curls a lock behind your ear, the gesture jarringly affectionate from his prior cruelty, before his mouth moves to hover over it, his warm breath tickling. “You moan loudly when I tell you to shut up. You shut up when I ask you questions. Have I fucked you stupid already? Or have you always been stupid?”

You let out a shaky breath. “I’m sorry.”

“Is that all you know what to say?” Jeonghan laughs. “A renowned bitch, known to reject her admirers without so much of a second thought, now reduced into this pathetic bitch in heat. What would everyone else think, hm?”

His derogatory spats clamored down to your bones, making you shake with emotions that you couldn’t quite place with your hazed mind. At one point, with the last bit of pride you had left, you’re irritated, and it’s shown in the twitch of your eye and narrowed gaze. Then there’s embarrassment, shown by how your face warms and flushes. There was no denying how fucking dazed and desperate you had been, that much was true, and the demeaning tone of his voice did its job of filling you with shame. The twisted part of it all is that you enjoyed every minute of this ridicule thanks to pure, carnal desire. You couldn’t care less about what other people would say about you, what matters now is when the fuck would Jeonghan move his dick inside you. 

But Jeonghan being Jeonghan, he wanted his answers. His last question was rhetoric. You knew. He knew. And yet he looks down at you with cruel expectancy masked in the sweetest, angelic smile that has fooled so many, and had once fooled you. 

“I-I don’t care,” you say, deciding to be honest. “Who the fuck cares what they think?”

“Oh, but I’d like to know,” Jeonghan said. He hums for a moment, looking you over in consideration, before speaking again. “But you’re right. They don’t matter right now, do they?” 

You release a breath you hadn’t known you were holding.

And Jeonghan watched, amused. He wasn’t done speaking. “But I’d at least like to know what you think.”

You blinked. “What?”

Before you could question him some more, Jeonghan pulls out of you, leaving your weeping cunt fluttering around nothing. You cry out, high and broken, from having pleasure ripped away with such cruelty. Jeonghan ignores it and his own throbbing problem as he goes to peel you off the wall with a rough tug on your arm. He has you by over the sink, has you staring at yourself through the vanity mirror. Jeonghan casts a smile at you through the reflection, his gaze weighted as he drinks in the sight of you as well.

Jeonghan had to admit, the rumors weren’t all baseless. You were stunningly beautiful, there was no denying that when anyone with functioning eyes could see it. The way you carried yourself tells him you’re well aware of it too. You held confidence with a raised chin, an allure with your own posture and stance even in this vulnerable position you were forced in, looking as disheveled as you are with tufts of your hair sticking out in every direction, framing your flushed face. Your blouse had been carefully unbuttoned despite how desperately urgent you both had been for each other the moment the bathroom door shut closed, but the rush was evident in how your bralette had been roughly tugged down enough for your perked breasts to spill over. Jeonghan had been anything but kind to your skin, having left angry red splotches blossoming all over your chest; you weren’t either on his, knowing if Jeonghan had craned his neck enough from behind you, they’d find similar markings on his throat, though considerably less in quantity.

Jeonghan also looked considerably less damning. He had not made moves to remove any of his upper clothing and so he remained presentable with his black varsity over a loose white shirt. Even his long hair had not looked loosened from where it’s tied up. But below, away from the mirror’s sight, his dark jeans had been unbuttoned and unzipped for his curved dick to spring out freely, for it now to rub over your ass teasingly.

“So?” Jeonghan asks. “What do you think of yourself?”

You glare at him through the mirror. “Fucking awful.”

“Of course you’d see it that way,” he laughs, resting his chin on your shoulder. “For me, I think this is the most beautiful you’ve ever been.”

It’s your turn to look unbelieving, but your pulse rouses. 

Jeonghan grinned. “Ask me why.”

You reluctantly indulge him, “Why?”

“Because you finally look fucking awful,” Jeonghan said cheerfully. You turn to glower at him but stop when he lifts a hand to trace a line over your chest, mapping out the marks adorning you with a nimble finger. “And because I’m the reason for it.”

“A little vain, don’t you think?” You remark, albeit breathily, your face heated.

“I can be proud of my work,” he quipped, pressing his smile against your skin. He looks you over once more, taking in every detail down to the last freckle, and something deep in him thrums sweetly. “And I had a beautiful canvas to begin with.”

“How charming,” you sighed, derisive, as you threw your head back against his shoulder so you could look at him with batting lashes. “Can you fuck me now?”

“But I mean it,” Jeonghan murmured and relented, reaching around you so he could press a roughened finger over your swollen clit.

 “Mean what?” You ask, but you’re barely listening, not when your focus is narrowed to the deft circles he’s making on your sweet nerves.

Jeonghan guides his length between your thighs, letting it glide languidly right under your weeping and throbbing cunt at a lazy pace. His lips are still curled, his eyes bright when he gazes down at you before he’s responding, “You’re absolutely beautiful.”

Sincerity was not something you’re used to when it came to the ever sarcastic Yoon Jeonghan, and yet here it was, bleeding into his tone in its purest form. Never in the entire three months of sleeping with him had he ever complimented the way he had just now, and if he had uttered any, it was quickly followed with ridicule or said with ridicule.

Good, he called you when you were obedient.

Cute, he called you when you were crying.

Beautiful. It was new. From him at least. 

It was a temporary moment of clarity in your lust-addled head as you blink at him, making sense of what he had said, making sense of the warmth that starts to bloom throughout your chest. And temporary it remained as Jeonghan led his cockhead right back to your entrance, pushing himself in without so much of a warning, and the bare grasp you had on lucidity loosened.

You gasp out loudly, doubling over the bathroom counter as your walls tense and quiver painfully from the sudden breach, but still yield around him nonetheless. Jeonghan was quick to catch you, to force you right back up with his long fingers encircling your throat. 

“Again?” Jeonghan barked out a laugh but it’s hoarse. “You really want everyone to hear you.”

“I c-can’t help it,” you whined, your head resting weakly against his shoulder, warm breath puffing over his marred skin. 

Jeonghan looked unimpressed. “Well, help it.”

“Oh, fuck!” you cry out when he starts driving into you with no sense of leniency, your body thrown fully forward and voice shaking from the repeated impact that clatters your bones.

“You’re horrible at this,” he cackled. He grips at your hips this time, pulling you hard against him, balls slapping heavily against your ass. He's practically pulling and pushing your cunt onto his cock as if you weighed nothing, as if you were nothing but a cocksleeve for him to enjoy. Each decadent slide of his length in your heat draws out breathy grunts from him, his head drunk with pleasure.

You weren’t faring any better. Your head is thrown back to reveal flushed skin stained with tears that drip from closed eyes as you try desperately to hold yourself up with palms flat against the cold marble counter. There was nothing else for you to do but feel it, feel his cock stretch your pussy, its silken insides practically making way for him with each piston that has you crying out more in volume and pitch.

“Open your eyes.” His hot, staggered breath wafted over your ear. His thrusts ease its pace, slowing into something more languorous and teasing. “Open your eyes and look at me.”

You whine but your eyelids flutter open. Glassy, unfocused eyes find Jeonghan.

A devious smile splinters across his face. 

There you are.

“Please,” you whimper, your hand reaching to paw at his nape. 

“What is it, angel?” His tone is sweet but it rolls off his tongue sharply. “I n-need - ”

Jeonghan laughed cruelly. “I don’t think you’re in the position to demand something from me when you can’t even listen to my one demand.”

You grab at the ends of his hair and rock your hips back into him, fucking your cunt right on his dick in a faster, but struggling, rhythm. 

“Hannie,” you mewl. “You feel too good. Please, please, just fuck me. I can’t help it, I just - Please? I’ll b-be good. Just please fuck me, Hannie.”

Jeonghan doesn’t respond right away to your pleas, allowing himself to revel in the broken desperation you display with an amused smile and delighted throbs made inside your velvety walls. Perhaps Jeonghan should be used to this sight now. He’s seen you in much messier and miserable states, ruined you far worse than he had now. And yet he’s plenty invigorated than he’s ever been, pure excitement searing his veins.

What would everyone else think, hm?

Jeonghan thought it was rhetoric. Jeonghan said it didn’t matter. 

It wasn’t. It did. 

“I don’t think you can be good,” he began as a hand inches forward between your legs, “But if you’re going to be loud, then at least use my name. That way, everyone will know who’s fucking you so good.”

“H-Hannie!” You mewl, oh so pitchy, as your frame jerks from the brush of the roughened pads of his fingers on your clit, pleasure flickering up your abdomen so wildly that you could not easily bear through it. 

“There we go,” he crooned, pride gleaming in his eyes. Jeonghan was much too familiar with your body by now, so it’s easy when his hips brings back its pace, fucking at your insides at an angle so the length of him glides over your sweet nerves with each impact. 

“Yes, yes, yes,” you sob out like a mantra, spreading your legs a little wider to accommodate his brutality, your channel tightening around his throbbing girth. “Ngh, Jeonghan, right there! Oh my god - !”

The nectar that leaks out of you coated his shaft with an amazingly significant amount that makes the slides so much easier and louder, the wet noises bouncing off the four walls and meshing with your own cries of his name like he wanted. It was almost enough to drown out the muffled music of the party that seemed many worlds away now.

Jeonghan soon enough joined in this sinful chorus, letting out panted moans of his own. Some were incoherent but when it wasn’t, it was mostly your name, just in case everyone couldn’t tell who was screaming his name like a wailing prayer. How he’s managed to keep himself restrained and sane for this long was a strong feat in itself. Your everything put him in a trance, every touch of you—nails, fingers, and obviously your tight cunt, was a little too much, it was dizzying. 

Even at your seemingly waning state, your hips somehow finds itself moving back against him, undulating with the same force and rhythm. You’re driven by the tightness both in your chest and in your abdomen, white flashing across your vision the more you keep up your pace, your moan becoming more muddled as your thoughts were. And when balance fails you, having you bow back down and lean all your weight on your forearm, Jeonghan inclines with you, his chest pressed right against your back and you could feel his raging heartbeat that very well matched your own.

“How are you holding up, angel?” He chuckled and pressed his face against your neck, his breathing hard and warm on your skin, as his thrusts become more shallow. “Doing okay?”

“I-I’m close,” you whimper. “Please, Hannie - ”

“I’ve got you,” he whispered back as nails dig crescents on your waist, muscles flexing as the intensity of his strokes inside you extends once again and remains at the same tempo. He doesn’t know what came over him the next moment, his senses just completely overtaken and all he could do was be at awe at all this perfect bliss you’re bringing him, and only him. “You’re mine tonight,” he breathed. “I’m going to fucking ruin you for everyone, angel, you understand that? You’re mine.”

There it was again. The clarity. The warmth. It all happened in a single moment.

You turn your head and stare up at him. Jeonghan stared right back at you. A completely indecipherable expression confronts another.  

Where it had been temporary then, it intensified now. Where there had been questions, suspicions took its place. 

Then came fear.

Jeonghan catches a glimpse of it in your eyes and for the very first time, his stomach sank at the sight of it. 

But his facade is flawless. It comes too naturally before he’s fully aware—a sweet curl of lip, the faintest crinkle at the corners of his eyes. He’s fooled too many. He could fool you again. 

Jeonghan takes advantage of your moment of daze to toy once again with your clit, and is relieved at how immediate your body reacts. 

“Ngh, J-Jeonghan!” You keen high as you reach a hand to cup over to where his fingers flicks and pinches at the delicate bud, pressing down on him for added pressure to alleviate your own self. Oh, how embarrassingly easy it was for your thoughts to be completely overwritten by your own lustful desires, but as you have learned, it always prevails, doesn’t it? 

Your thighs seize up from the overwhelming pleasure crawling up your spine; while your rhythm falters from it, Jeonghan’s is relentless even when his own breathing turned ragged and his body strained from the effort. It all becomes so much so fast; the feverish heat spreads under your skin, tightening up coils in your abdomen, but your frame is trembling, as if a chill settled so deeply into your bones. 

“Hannie, Hannie, I’m going to -”

“I know,” Jeonghan grunts as his face falls in the juncture of your neck, lips pressed right over your pulse point. He can feel your walls start to restrict around his twitching girth, and it did little to aid his own self-control. “Let go for me, angel. C’mon. Let me hear you. Let them hear you.”

And you do. With the most shrilling wail, you come, your warm release spilling onto his cock and, much to your surprise, squirting onto themselves, their clothes, and his hand. 

“Holy shit,” Jeonghan marveled under his breath. If he could burn a memory into his brain, this would be fucking it. Just you shivering and quivering around his dick. Your back prettily arched back with tits hardened and perked. The fluids spurting all over yourself and him so shamelessly and so intensely until you're convulsing back down on your front from it all. 

Watching this whole brilliance of you, just reminded Jeonghan of how lucky he truly was to have you like this, to be able to make you this fucked out with crossed eyes, pupils blown wide out of proportion. Hidden concerns were washed away by this single glance, replaced with nothing but gratitude, pride, and true bliss. And with all that and a poorly thrown out warning, he’s thrown over the edge. A moan is punched out of his gut as he’s releasing inside you with one last valiant thrust, his cum white and hot as it spurts and paints your walls.

And poor you having to tolerate this continued abuse of your insides that pushes you close into the sphere of overstimulation. You’re spent, fatigue already ebbing into your consciousness, but you stay still for him, letting him use you for all your worth until the last few twitches of cock, until the last few spews of his cum is fucked back into you.

For the next few moments, only a dulled bass fills the air as two heaving bodies try to steady themselves. When the remnants of carnality wane, Jeonghan finally pulls out of you, your channel left with nothing but their shared release dripping out of you, beading down your legs. There’s a crack of a smile thrown your way through the reflection just as you feel a light tap made over your cunt. You resist the urge to roll your eyes at the gesture. And to rock back into it.

“If I clean you up,” Jeonghan began, eyeing the puddle on the floor, “could you help me with the rest of your mess?”

Now you did roll your eyes. “Ever the gentleman.”

“Hey, I just thought I should ask. It’s a lot.” 

Your face warmed up. “Forget it, I’ll clean myself up. You clean the floor.” You move to lift yourself up from the counter, but catch yourself as your muscles start to strain, limbs shaking. 

Jeonghan raised a brow.

You winced. “Can you help me over to the toilet?”

 “Need to piss it all out again?” He jests and takes a hold of your arm to gently pick you up. 

You sneered. “That wasn’t piss, asshat.”

Jeonghan laughed. “I know it wasn’t. But it was hot as hell.”

“Shut the hell up.”

That only made him laugh again.

Then came a knock, a very aggressive one.

“Yoon Jeonghan, are you done fucking in there?” Said a male voice beyond the door, sounding just as irritated as his knock was. 

“Ah, damn,” Jeonghan muttered quietly to himself, then raised his voice at the door, “There are other bathrooms, Cheol!”

Choi Seungcheol, you now recognized Jeonghan’s fellow frat brother, responded right away. “All occupied! Can you hurry your shit up?”

“No!” said Jeonghan, but he’s quick to guide you over next to the toilet with an arm now encircling your waist; you tell yourself this was just a helpful gesture, but there’s no helping how your skin heats up under his touch. From where you stand leaning against the wall, you watch him rush around the bathroom, first cleaning himself up and shoving his dick back in his jeans before he throws a clean towel down on the floor to soak up your mess.

“I’ll leave first,” Jeonghan explained as he sauntered back to you with soap and another fresh towel in hand, setting them down where it’s within your reach. “I’ll appease Cheol first and buy you some time to clean up.”

“Is he always so impatient?” You asked.

“Always,” he sighed, “but once I explain, he’ll understand. I don’t know why he’s fussier than usual though.” 

“Maybe he needs to shit.”

“Shitting at a party? That’s disgusting of him.”

“He has no respect for the partygoers out there.”

You exchange grins with each other. 

Then another round of knocking came around.

“In a minute!” Jeonghan called back, trying to sound calm but his face was scowling. He lowers his voice when he speaks to you again, “Are you sure you don’t want any help? Now I just want to make him wait.”

“Go,” you tell him and wave him off. “He sounds like he’s about to kick the door open. I’d rather not have that.”

Jeonghan huffed a laugh at that. “I wouldn’t put it past him.”

Jeonghan turned to leave. Your heart lurched from your chest.

“Jeonghan?” You call out before you could stop yourself.

He looked back. “Hm?”

“Do we…” You didn’t know what to say, how to phrase it. “Should we talk about it?”

It was miniscule, but you caught his wince. “Talk about what?”

“About what you said?”

“Angel, I said a lot of things.”

“Don’t play stupid with me. You said - ”

Another loud knock, quickly followed by Seungcheol yelling. “Jeonghan! Hurry up!”

Jeonghan let out another sigh, a mix of annoyance with a tinge of relief. “We’ll have to talk about it another time.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Jeonghan - ”

“We will talk about it,” he said firmly, his tone spoke of sincerity, but his face said otherwise. “Just not now. Not yet.” 

You gave him a skeptical look. 

He tried for a smile, perfectly saccharine. You saw right through it.

“Fine,” you relented.

Jeonghan gave you a grateful nod of his head and made a move to leave again. You watch again with the strangest restriction in your chest.

“Cheol, you have got to learn patience,” Jeonghan said once he cracked the door open.

“And you have got to learn to be quiet,” the disembodied voice of Seungcheol parried back. “I’m sure the people passing the hallway could hear you both.”

“Well, we were trying to get the whole house to hear us.” Jeonghan spared a quick glance your way and grinned. You wanted to punch his teeth in.

Seungcheol groaned. “Of course you fucking were.”

Jeonghan laughed and finally stepped out of the bathroom. “At least I’m getting my dick wet. You haven’t been with anyone since - Oh, I spoke too soon. Cheol, you sneaky son of a - ”

The door shut closed behind him, leaving you all alone, and you buried your face in your hands.

© jeonghantis. all rights reserved. do not re-publish, translate, plagiarise, edit any of my work on any other platform.

[mostly-marvel-musings]

Playboy ways

A/N: This is for the lovely anon who asked for this specific prompt - “Come on, Tony Stark, show me your playboy ways.” Hope you enjoy reading this one. Leave a heart, comment or reblog if you did.

Pairing: Tony Stark x Ex-wife! Reader

Warnings: 18+ smut, and angst.

Word count: 2.1k

Tony Stark Masterlist

.

It all started off when he walked into your home with that slut of a woman. It was typical for him post your divorce, you’d scoffed at the bouncy blonde who giggled in the most irritating manner at everything Stark said.

The audacity of the man to traipse in with his latest fling angered you beyond anything. He was doing it to get that very reaction which he was getting at that moment.

You were hosting brunch at your new home, the one you had bought all on your own after you and Tony separated. It felt incredibly overwhelming to start over but you also realized how much you needed it. That didn’t mean you didn’t miss your ex-husband from time to time. You did.

He seemed to have moved on pretty okay by the looks of it. Then again, the man had a reputation before you started dating. It wouldn’t have been a fish out of water situation for him exactly.

The team had arrived on time, except for one. You knew he liked to make an entrance. And that infuriating bastard had the balls to show up with a plus one without checking with you first. Sure it had been a year and he was free to do whatever he wanted, but this was your house, and your rules applied.

Nat squeezed your hand reassuringly as you glared daggers at the pair, noticing the tight grip on your wine glass.

“Do you want me to go talk to him?” She asked, stepping in your line of vision.

“No, it’s fine. I’ll do it.” You huffed, finishing your wine before excusing yourself. If you could, you would drag both their asses out of your house.

He was busy chatting with Steve and Bucky with the blonde attached to his arm.

“Y/N! We haven’t spoken in forever. Do join us.” Tony piped, while the girl eyed you from top to bottom, sizing you up with a look of mild disdain.

“Glad you made it, Stark. And your friend.” You offered a fake smile, which nobody bought.

“Great house, Y/N.” Steve offered kindly, uncomfortable with the air of discomfort.

“Yeah, love what you’ve done to the place.” Bucky stepped in, giving your shoulder a friendly squeeze.

“Thank you guys. I’ll give you a tour later but first, I need a word with you, Tony.” You stared directly at him, causing him to clear his throat awkwardly and give you a firm nod.

Just as you were about to leave, you saw the girl tagging along with her arms wrapped around your ex-husband.

“Uh, I'd like to have a word with him in private. If you don’t mind.”

“But I’m his girlfriend.” She chirped, making you almost scoff but you stopped yourself from reacting.

“We used to be married.”

That seemed to have shut her up as her hands dropped to her sides. This was brand new information for her, you realized, rolling your eyes as you began making your way towards your bedroom upstairs.

Hearing the click of the door behind you, you felt Tony’s overbearing presence, turning around to face him while taking a deep breath to ground yourself.

“The house looks pretty good, Y/N. It screams you.” Tony smiled, looking around the space, as if analyzing what parts of your personality he could see.

“You didn’t tell me you were bringing a date, Tony. A head’s up would’ve been appreciated.” Your tone was flat as you crossed your arms over your chest, staring at the man whose eyes immediately landed on yours as you spoke.

“I’m…sorry?”

You scoffed, shaking your head.

“Are you really? The invite was supposed to be just us. The team.”

He shrugged, stepping closer and letting his eyes wander down your body. You hated the fact that he still had the same effect on you as he did all those years ago. Your skin flushed as his eyes raked down your lips, your neck, the dress that teased just enough of your breasts without being too revealing.

“You have a wine stain on that dress, by the way. You’re gonna have to take it off.” He murmured, ignoring what you’d said completely.

He was right.

A stray drop of wine had made itself known right above your left breast, a purple-ish red mark prominent against the light coloured fabric.

You went into your en-suite, trying to wipe it off fruitlessly. Groaning in frustration, you pulled the dress over your head and threw it in the hamper, well aware of the fact that your ex-husband was probably getting a good show.

“Hey how about that red dress I got you?” He suggested, snooping around in your closet as if he owned the place.

“How about don’t snoop in my closet? Try respecting someone’s privacy for once.”

You gave him a nudge, wearing only your underwear, feeling his burning gaze on your back.

“Ouch.”

“How come there’s no picture of us?” Tony wondered out loud, pointing to the several frames you had hanging on the wall adjacent to the bed. There were many with your family, your cousins, the entire team, a few with the supersoldiers who had been your best friends.

“You really want me to hang a picture of us just to be reminded how much of a mess the whole thing was?” You said bitterly, seeing hurt flash across his face for a moment. It made your heart pang guiltily.

“Are you saying there’s not one fond memory you’d like to keep?”

His question made you pause, your heart twisted in pain as your mind flooded with a whole bunch of memories you had pushed down for the sake of your sanity.

“I—why are we doing this now? I came here to tell you that the girl stuck to your side is unwelcome in my house. So please take her and fuck off.”

Your voice wavered slightly as you spoke, finally picking out the same red dress Tony had mentioned earlier before storming in the bathroom.

Tony was quick to follow on your steps, stopping you from slamming the door on him. He grabbed your shoulders and backed you up against the vanity counter.

“What?”

“So angry, Y/N. I still find that so fucking hot.” He murmured, his face inches away from yours, his intoxicating scent was overwhelming to your senses.

“Typical Stark.” You rolled your eyes, trying to push him away but he didn’t budge. Instead, he chose to press you further against the marble counter, all of his body brushing yours, making his erection meet your heated core.

“I hate you.” You glared, wishing your body wouldn’t react the way it did to his infuriating man.

“Right back at ya.”

Tony grabbed your face and slanted his lips on yours, taking you by surprise at the intensity of the kiss.

He coaxed your mouth open and plunged his tongue inside, sucking onto yours with such force it bordered on pain and pleasure. Your fingers tugged on his hair sharply, making him grunt.

A heady mix of champagne, berries and that unmistakable hint of coffee that comprised all that was Tony took over your body like no time had passed. You moaned against his lips as his hips moved on their own accord, teasing you as you felt his clothed cock against your thin, panty-covered core that was growing wetter with every passing second.

His lips trailed down your neck, nipping at your warm skin all while his hands slid down your body, tracing every curve and dip like he remembered. Finally stopping between your legs, he teased his finger over your panties, finding them damp with your eagerness.

“I’m starting to believe you’ve missed me, Y/N.” he grinned, pulling them aside to expose you to him.

“I will slap that smug grin off your face, Stark.” You muttered, sounding out of breath just from the kissing.

“Do it. You know I love it when you’re rude.” He peeled the fabric off of you, letting it dangle around your ankles before slipping two fingers inside you without warning.

“You’re impossible.” You gasped at the intrusion, the stretch of his fingers achingly familiar.

“Mmhmm. Your impossible ex-husband, kiss my neck.”

Tony ordered urgently, his hips stuttering against your palm as you stroked him over his pants.

You obliged, but grazed your teeth against his skin to give him a little bite, making him cuss under his breath.

With wanton need, you unbuckled his belt and rid him of his pants, giving him a few slow pumps. You smirked as Tony let out a needy whine when you left his weeping cock.

“Missed me huh?”

You blinked innocently, the reaction only lasted a few seconds because Tony abruptly made you turn around and bent you over the counter. Your heart thudded against your ribcage, breath erratic as you waited for him to do something. You were getting impatient, your cheek pressed against the cold surface while his hands trailed down your spine, leaving goose pimples in their wake.

Growing antsier by the minute, you wiggled your hips back, hoping he’d get the hint. A sharp sting pinched your buttcheek as his palm landed on the soft flesh, making you cry out loud. One followed the other, making you clench around nothing as you bore the brunt of his punishment.

“I still own this body, don’t I?” He whispered, caressing your cheeks tenderly. You bit your bottom lip, thinking just how immediately your inner voice had answered ‘yes’ to that question.

“Answer me, sweetheart.”

Shaking your head, you decided to defy him some more. When you didn’t answer, he lined himself up against your entrance, gathering your slick on his length before slamming into you until he bottomed out.

“Liar.” His whisper traveled straight to your core, clamping around his length as he continued with his agonizing pace.

Living with Tony Stark had never been easy. The man lived a life that hardly anyone could comprehend. You tried. Unfortunately it got to a point where you had to choose, and you chose to step away and focus on your wellbeing. You were still to forgive him for what he put you through.

Still, the passion and love you felt for the man hadn’t fizzled out. Maybe now it had morphed into something else, and you certainly weren’t complaining. If anything, the man was an absolute freak in bed. And you knew things were cloudy and perhaps morally grey, yet you still hadn’t learnt to resist the man.

Letting out a frustrated groan, you looked over your shoulder as Tony refused to move.

“What? Are you afraid I’ll break? Come on Tony, show me your playboy ways.”

That seemed to flip a switch in him. Grabbing both your hands roughly, he held them behind your back, dragging his cock out of your snug walls and pushed back in, brutally. He began thrusting in and out of your heat with such intensity, the surface of the counter dug into your skin, bruising it.

“Is this what you wanted?” He panted, gripping your hair with the other hand, spearing into you as he spoke.

“I think it is what you wanted. You kissed me, remember?” You countered, mewling when he slapped your butt once again.

“Didn’t throw me out, did you?”

“I still can’t stand your stubborn ass.” You bit your lip hard enough to hurt as he continued pounding into you, bringing you closer and closer to the edge.

“Me neither, sweetheart.”

His cock hit all the right spots going in, making you see stars. You couldn’t do much other than take all that he was giving you, completely at his mercy. He felt your thighs twitch, knowing instantly you were close.

Leaving your hair momentarily, Tony reached around to rub your clit in circles to speed up your orgasm, never stopping his ministrations as you came hard around his length, screaming loud enough for people to hear.

He wasn’t far along, your walls clenched around him desperately, making him twitch inside and pull out in time to paint his cum on your lower back.

Still the gentleman, he cleaned you up and helped you dress, not speaking a word as reality set in.

“So…are you going to kick her out or should I?” Your voice had turned softer now, as you got dressed, fixing your hair and makeup as best as you could.

“You do it, please. I’d rather watch.”

[blitzwhore]

I just saw Blitzø get called Stolas stockholm victim I can't with this fandom anymore😭

😂 As outrageously incorrect and stupid as that take is, I'm going to go on a tangent here. I hope you don't mind.

I think every fandom has annoying people with awfully terrible takes in it. People with zero media literacy. People who hatewatch. People who think they're entitled to the exact show they would've wanted, which has nothing to do with the actual, existing show.

This is especially true for queer media, and especially true for queer cartoons. (Hi, yes. I was active in the Adventure Time, Steven Universe, Voltron, and She-Ra fandoms when those shows were airing, respectively. I've seen some stuff). Some people just can't handle queer cartoons, period. If the queer characters/ships are soft and wholesome, they're infantilising and boring, and if they're complex and nuanced and actually have conflict, they're abusive and problematic. You'll hear the same recycled arguments over and over again. Like, the shit some people are saying about Blitz and Stolas after The Full Moon? Is literally almost word-for-word what they said about Catra and Adora post-season 3 of She-Ra (and even at the end of the show).

Here's the thing, though! Those people and their bad takes are not what I want to think about what I think about a fandom. Those aren't the people I want to call the fans. They don't deserve that title. Not when so many other people are out there dedicating their time to making gifs and art and meta posts, and writing fic, and commenting/reblogging to show support, and sliding into people's DMs to scream and squee together about a thing they love.

At the end of the day, "fandom" is just a lot of people each doing their own thing. Which people you engage with and allow to stay within your line of sight will determine your fandom experience. Fandom can be a huge, convoluted, online space full of people who are constantly arguing with one another and whose takes make you unfathomably angry... Or it can be you and your 5 friends and mutuals who scream gleefully at one another in 2-note posts. You can't control what others post online, but you can control your engagement with it.

How? Well, here's what I personally do to avoid getting upset by people's stupid opinions online:

Filter 'critical' and 'anti' tags (eg. #anti stolitz #anti vivziepop #Helluva Boss critical #HB critical #vivziepop critical). Many people actually do tag their critical posts because they know it's the respectful thing to do!

If I come across a post that has one or more of those tags, obviously, I don't click through to see it under any circumstances.

If I stumble across a stranger's untagged post with hate/criticism that upsets me: I stop reading and BLOCK. Immediately. I don't look back. I don't finish reading. I don't engage. I just block block block. I <3 the block button, seriously.

If I feel my mind reeling from a bad take I just came across: I take a step back, close my phone, breathe, remember life is beautiful sometimes. Go back and watch an episode I really like. Clean my living space a little. Vent about it to a friend (but only if I really need to, because if not, I'd rather not dwell on it).

If I'm starting to feel the need to reply to someone's bad take (directly or via my own post), I instead make the decision to channel that energy into making fandom posts out of love. (I don't do this just with fandom. If I see something transphobic online, I usually react by reblogging a bunch of trans art or trans positivity posts on my main, for example). I like to think of it as putting some positivity out into the world to compensate for the negativity I just saw. So, for example, if I see someone shitting on my blorbo, I may make a silly post just saying how much I love blorbo. Or I'll make (or draft) a post about how interesting I find some of blorbo's actions. Or reblog another person's positive/interesting post about blorbo.

And finally, I stay the hell away from Twitter. Or at least, if I go on Twitter, I try my best to avoid any tweet that has text in it instead of just art. Even the people who have good opinions spend too much time arguing with the people who have bad opinions on there. I don't want to see people's bad takes! No, not even while reading founded and perfectly articulated criticism of those bad takes! So I just limit my time on Twitter. And again, if someone is putting bad takes on my TL (even if it is to counter them), I unfollow and block as needed.

All this to say, yes, it really fucking sucks to read the opinions of people who don't understand and who hate the characters and ships and worlds you love. Gosh it's the worst. But you can curate your fandom experience. You can focus on the things you can control. You have the power to decide if your fandom experience is draining or fun!

And because I don't know how to finish this, here, have a Stolitz kiss to heal you:

We will keep winning and there's nothing the haters can do about it. 😌

[autisticlenaluthor]

Hi, my name is Rory, I’m going to the Eras Tour in Amsterdam on July 5th and if you guys could somehow help me get this to @taylorswift / @taylornation - it would mean so much to me

Three years ago, I went from being perfectly healthy, to watching my body and my health rapidly deteriorate. My entire world got turned upside down— I lost the ability to eat, drink, and even stand for more than a few minutes.

I don't remember much from when I first got sick. But I know I listened to Mr Perfectly Fine on a loop almost every day because it was the only song that could capture how I felt. I've known and loved Taylor's music since I was six-years-old and first heard the album Fearless. i remember the first song I ever heard (love story) like it was yesterday; but somewhere during that time, her music became like therapy for me.

Since 2021, I've been diagnosed with three incurable diseases. two of these are rare, and one is predicted to only get worse with time. I've spent countless days inpatient on the peds floor receiving treatment, tests, and surgeries. And through all of it-- I've leaned heavily on Taylor's music.

My mom bought our Era's tour tickets last summer during the Europe pre-sale. I was in the hospital at the time and immediately told all of my nurses, doctors, dietitians and basically anyone who came into my room, that a year from then, i'd be seeing taylor swift. Whenever I could get out of bed, I was in the playroom with my child life specialists, making friendship bracelets to give out to other Swifties at the show. The thought of going to the Eras Tour singlehandedly kept me going through the hardest time of my life. And it's kept me going ever since.

Months later, I was hospitalized again, right before the release of 1989 TV. I'd been admitted the day after seeing The Eras Tour Movie in theaters (I was in theater 13, row 13!!) and I remember being so relieved that I hadn't had to miss it.

I had become known by most of the nurses as "the Taylor Swift girl” and the night before another procedure, I stayed up until midnight with everyone else so I could listen to 1989 TV. Hearing those songs-- I felt the happiest I'd been in so long. I felt normal again. I was sick and I was alone but I was connected to every other person who'd stayed up with me and that feeling was indescribable.

Taylor gave that to me, and so much more.

Over the course of my journey, I've listened to Sparks Fly to keep me calm while my doctors inserted feeding tubes down my nose. Whenever I have to be put under anesthesia, I have a nurse put her music on shuffle so I can listen to it as I fall asleep. When I had my big surgery in December, the last thing I remember was Bad Blood playing in the OR and saying "this is a funny song to have surgery to".

All of this is to say, Taylor has given me strength and hope during the worst part of my life, and she continues to do so. Her music is truly everything to me and getting to go the the Era's Tour is already a dream come true on it's own. And if it's possible - being able to receive the 22 hat and give Taylor a friendship bracelet would make all of that pain feel worth it. It would mean everything to me.

if you could reblog this and tag @taylorswift and @taylornation I'd appreciate that so much!! thank you to everyone whose read this far, and everyone whose shared this <3

EDIT: I’m going to be in section 119, row 20, seat 11

also if anyone is interested, I included some pics of the mentioned moments below the cut!

seeing the eras tour movie the day before having to be admitted, and then making friendship bracelets for tour in the hospital

the mirrorball is hung in my room for good luck

the bracelets i’d started making in the hospital, right after getting the tickets

and the day of the 1989 TV release - id stayed up until midnight to listen to the album, and then had my anesthesiologist play ‘Style’ for me to play while they put me out for my procedure

[astrophileous]

Love Bugs (Pt. 06)

Pairing: Derek Morgan x Female Reader

Synopsis: You and Derek Morgan have an arrangement. At work, your relationship is strictly business. Under the sheets, it's all about pleasure. Nothing more, nothing less. Until, of course, your feelings start to get involved. Your situation is complicated enough without the unexpexted predicament that suddenly befalls upon you. But with a maniac serial killer on the loose, will you ever get the chance to make everything right?

Warning(s): cursing--there's a lot of it--like a lot, psychopathic behaviors, being held captive, verbal and physical violence, degrading nicknames, talks of death and unaliving someone, strangulation, PLS READ WITH CAUTION BECAUSE THIS PART IS REALLY GRIM I'M NOT EVEN KIDDING

Word Count: 4200-ish

Tag(s): I'm tagging everyone who requested to be tagged prior to the long hiatus, pls tell me if you'd like to NOT be included in the tag list for future updates, thanks! @marvelousgoldroses @jay-2s-world @whore-of-the-pumpkin-patch @maxinehufflepuffprincess @cat-or-kitten @littleshadow17 @itzz-me-duh @geeksareunique @paisleebubbles @whateverrrrrrrrs @crazyunsexycool @louderfortheback @wifeyofeveryone

Author's Note: HI EVERYONE HOW ARE YOU?? I know this is long overdue, but pls enjoy the new part of love bugs! I'm so happy to be posting again and I hope you like what I've got in plans for this series. I think we only have one or maybe two chapters left for this story (depending whether I want to write an epilogue or not lol) but in the meantime, pls enjoy this part and don't forget to LIKE+REBLOG+COMMENT !!! thank you 🌹

Love Bugs Masterlist / Criminal Minds Masterlist

The bullpen of FBI headquarters was still reeling in the aftermath of a Derek-Morgan-shaped hurricane.

Emily was just about to enter the vicinity again when she heard the tail end of Derek's furious words, right before Hotch had ordered him to retreat.

"What was that about?" Emily asked as she approached Rossi's side, eyes never straying from the two men who soon disappeared into Hotch's office.

Rossi never addressed Emily's question. Instead, he gestured for her--and everybody else in the room--to be quiet with a finger on his lips, before he pressed the unmute button on the telephone.

"Hello?"

The UnSub's head jerked at Rossi's unfamiliar voice. You were barely successful in getting him to calm down following Derek's unexpected outburst, but the sound of Rossi's voice was threatening to throw all of those poor attempts straight out of the window.

"Who is that?" he demanded warily. "Where's Agent Hotchner?"

"He had to step away for a second," Rossi notified. "I'm SSA David Rossi. I also work with Agent Hotchner and Agent (Y/L/N)."

"I know who you are."

"Yeah? I still don't know who you are, though."

A responding groan vibrated from the other line. "Why does everyone keep asking me that? Do you think I'm fucking dumb?"*

"No one thinks anything here, pal. Just wanted to know who I was speaking to, that's all." At the UnSub's clear signs of agitation, Rossi quickly added, "It'd be nice to know the person who clearly means a lot to (Y/N)."

Rossi's reassurance obviously managed to trigger the intended effect it had sought. Everyone could see how the UnSub physically deflated at Rossi's words, meaning that hopefully he was soon going to let his guard down.

"I can't tell you who I am," your assailant said, still adamant, although his resolve was wearing thin with each word he had stated. "You're just gonna use it to track me down and keep us apart."

The last syllable of his sentence was emphasized by the weight of his dagger on the side of your neck. You instinctively winced at the unwelcomed touch of the blade before schooling your expression once more so your captor wouldn't notice.

"I promise you, no one is going to do that," Rossi said.

"He's telling the truth," you decided to chime in, surprising everyone including the UnSub whose grip of the dagger had teetered dangerously closer to your pulse point at the sudden proclamation. "They are good people. They don't break promises or tell lies. I promise you, nothing will come between us."

The silence that fell next was heavy with the UnSub's hesitation. Bracing yourself, you forced your head to tilt back, locking eyes with him who was still standing like a guard dog right behind you.

"I swear, Darling," you vowed.

The lull in your voice--or perhaps the fact that you had called him darling in front of your team, which he could arguably take as a display of affection--must have stirred up something in his twisted mind. He actually preened at you before his eyes went right back towards the direction of the camera on the wall.

"My name is Arthur," he confessed.

A particular thread of memory in your brain immediately lit up.

Back in the bullpen, JJ and Spencer were finally returning with documents containing your phone records that they had promptly asked Kevin to gather. Spencer didn't waste any time before perching himself on his desk to start rummaging through the thick pile of files.

"Arthur?" Rossi repeated the name, eyes flicking over to Garcia with a silent request to start cross-referencing the name with the other names they had acquired so far in the investigation.

The tech analyst didn't need to be told twice. She began typing furiously on her laptop as Rossi's attention was drawn back towards the projector.

The UnSub hadn't moved an inch. His hand was still just as sturdy on your shoulder. The blade was also still just as cold as it pressed onto your skin.

One wrong move, and you would end up no better than a slaughter animal on the cold hard ground.

"Do you have a last name, Arthur?" Rossi asked.

The entire bullpen held their breath in anticipation. Rossi had planted the bait as strategically as he could. It was up to the UnSub to take it and slip up the one information that would give them a major lead to end this case once and for all.

But before the UnSub could respond, a muffled beeping resonated in the air, through the telephone line, and finally into the bullpen. The sound was enough to make your assailant faltered.

"I have to go."

It was the last thing he uttered before the line, along with the livestream, went completely dead.

The atmosphere was laden with restlessness as everyone tried to make peace with the fact that they had just lost the only mean of communication they had with you. Without the feed from the livestream, no one could possibly know what was going on. The team would have no idea if something were to happen to you.

They would have no idea how to determine whether you were alive or dead.

"Did you find anything yet, Garcia?" Rossi questioned, although in all honestly, it sounded more like a desperate plea.

The thick regret behind Garcia's eyes gave Rossi the answer he needed to know.

"I can't find any Arthur in our files, sir," Garcia informed.

"Anything from her phone records? What about the hospital?" Rossi tried again.

Emily shook her head almost remorsefully.

"Nothing yet," Spencer spoke up from his place on the desk. "Not a single thing stands out from her records."

"What now?" JJ sighed, exhaustion and worry beginning to decorate the lines on her face.

The whole bullpen stood still, as if everyone was waiting for a slice of miracle to descend into the room, holding a map that would eventually lead the team to where you were still being held captive. But such a map didn't exist in this piece of reality, and the BAU knew that they were running out of time.

"Garcia, did you record the livestream by any chance?" Spencer asked at last.

"Yeah, of course I did."

Penelope punched a few keys on her keyboard before the projector once again came alive with the footage from the livestream.

"Can you fast forward to the very end?" Spencer requested. "And then play it again backwards to the beginning."

"What are you thinking, Spence?" JJ wondered.

"I don't know. I just... maybe there's a detail we missed. At this point, even the smallest piece of clue is worth pursuing."

Several pair of eyes glued themselves on the screen as the livestream footage ran backward at a faster speed. Bated breaths waited in tension for just the tiniest hint that the team could scour to determine your location.

"Wait. What was that?" Spencer interjected. "Garcia, play that again."

"What? What is it?" Emily spoke up.

"Look at her hand." Spencer stood up from the desk, approaching the screen to get a better look. "She's knocking against the chair. Garcia, zoom in on her hand. The left one."

Penelope did as she was asked. "Is that--"

"It's morse code," Rossi muttered, realization overtaking his countenance.

"What is she saying?" JJ questioned.

"A-U--" Spencer began spelling out loud, "--T... Auto. She's spelling auto."

"Auto?" JJ's forehead creased. "As in... auto shop?"

"Her records said she went to a mechanic a week ago," Spencer recalled. JJ immediately rummaged through the papers on Spencer's desk, but the pages flipping inside of Spencer's mind moved at a thousand times more speed than any normal pair of eyes ever could. "Dinozzo's Auto Service, 894 Southwell Street."

"Got it," Penelope chimed in from her place in front of the laptop. "Dinozzo's Auto Shop. Originally owned by Carlo Dinozzo before it was passed down to his two sons after his death a year ago."

"Any of them named Arthur?" Rossi asked

"Nope. Luca and Piero."

"What about the employees?" Emily suggested.

"No. I'm not seeing any Arthur anywhere near that place."

"We profiled that the UnSub could be holding down a steady job in his everyday life," JJ said. "He might not even be related to that place. Maybe (Y/N) encountered him there by chance?"

"Nah, I doubt it." Rossi shook his head. "The bastard's too sophisticated to leave anything up to chance like that. He must have found a way to orchestrate it one way or another."

"There must be a connection somewhere, then. No way he just chose a random place off the map," Emily muttered. "We should cross-reference the name to anyone associated with the Dinozzos."

Penelope began to frantically type something into her laptop. "We've still got three names here. Oh, never mind. Two names, 'cause one of them is dead."

"What do we have on them?" Spencer asked.

"First is Arthur Doyle. He went to high school with Luca and Piero Dinozzo, works in a local company, and looks like he travels a lot for his job," Penelope explained. "There's also an Arthur Harrison, works as an accountant in the heart of Arlington. His dad and Carlo Dinozzo were long-time pals. Apparently, his dad was an accountant too and used to handle the shop's finances before Arthur inherited the office. Oh."

"What? What'd you find?"

"Arthur was engaged," Penelope murmured, "to a Claire Dumont. They were gonna get married last year but the wedding was called off just one month before the D-day."

"Where's Claire now?" JJ asked.

"She moved to Ohio shortly after the breakup, and... oh my God. Guess what?" Penelope looked up, her eyes widening almost comically. "She just announced her engagement three months ago."

Spencer hummed. "That could be the stressor."

An image of a woman suddenly appeared on screen, right above the paused footage of your hand. Everyone stared at the picture in shock.

"That's Claire Dumont," Penelope murmured.

JJ held her breath. "She and (Y/N) could be sisters."

"We've found our guy," Rossi declared. "Garcia, pull up every known address associated with this man. And hurry, we don't have much time."

"I have three properties so far connected to Arthur Harrison. Sending the addresses to all of your phones."

As JJ, Spencer, and Rossi rushed to exit the bullpen, Emily turned around and called out to the others, "I'm grabbing Morgan and Hotch!"

Without stopping to knock, Emily pushed open the door to Hotch's office, ignoring the slivers of tension dancing around in the air.

"We may have something," Emily announced to the room. "We think we know where (Y/N) is."

Your assailant--Arthur, as it turned out--pulled his phone out and pressed a few buttons in, silencing the beeping. Once the noise was gone, the room was quiet again.

He looked at you, then. Piercingly. You squirmed underneath his scrutiny.

"Wait here," he eventually said. "I'll be back."

Without taking a second to breathe, Arthur flew past you and towards the direction he had appeared from earlier.

"Wait! Wait. Where are you going?"

The sound of steps ceased on top of concrete. You waited with bated breath for his response. But the only sound ever came was that of the metal door, and as quickly as you could count to three, he was gone.

At last, you were alone once more.

The traces of adrenaline had begun to dissipate out of your system, leaving you in a shivering mess inside that damp concrete room. Once again, you attempted with all of your might to free yourself from the state of confinement you were in. But the metal cuffs binding you to the chair only dug further into your skin the more you tried to escape, while the chair itself stayed nailed in place no matter how hard you tried to rock it.

After a few more minutes of futile attempts, you were forced to face the reality of your situation.

You were never going to get yourself out of that dingy place alone.

Huffing a breath, you knew that there was nothing more you could do except to hope that your team found the hidden message you had left for them to solve.

And with that last thought conquering every room your head, you let yourself succumb to the impending darkness.

You woke up gasping for air.

It took you a few seconds to remember where you were, to remember that you weren't back in the comfort of your apartment and instead, you were still holed up in the darkened cold room where your abductor had been keeping you captive.

It took a few seconds more to realize that the drowning dream you just had might have been a tad bit more real than you initially thought.

Still reeling in shock, you peered up and locked eyes with your abductor, eyes barely registering the empty bucket he was holding in one of his hands. It didn't take a genius to conclude that he was the one responsible for your drenched state.

"W-what?" you stuttered meekly. "What's going on?"

He only stared at you in response.

"Arthur?"

You shrieked loudly when Arthur threw the empty bucket against the wall, sending a resounding "bang" throughout the whole room and breaking the plastic object into two misshaped pieces.

"Arthur--" you gasped, searching for your voice that seemed to have disappeared beneath the layers of brewing fear, "--w-what... what are you... what's going on? Talk to me."

"I don't want to talk to you, you fucking bitch."

The beating inside your chest fastened. Before you could ask yet another question, Arthur had lunged forward, grabbing a fistful of your hair and tugging your head back so you could stare directly into his eyes.

"You're a fucking liar," he seethed. "You lied to me. Everything you said was a lie, wasn't it?!"

"I don't--" you hissed, trying to ignore the biting pain in your scalp, "--I don't understand what you're talking about."

"Stop fucking lying!!!"

A sharp smack reverberated in the air.

It was only when the ringing in your ear grew louder did you realize that Arthur had slapped your cheek.

Hard.

Ignoring the tingling on the side of your face, you lifted your head once more. The room was spinning, tilting your balance left and right, but you held your ground through it all.

"What did I lie to you about, Arthur?" you asked carefully.

He threw something at your feet. It clanged against the hard ground below before landing face up near your toes.

It was your phone.

But the fact that Arthur somehow had your phone in his possession wasn't what caused the sick feeling to stir northward in your belly.

It was what you were seeing on the now cracked screen of your phone: a picture of you and Derek. A selfie that you had impulsively taken of the two of you in bed after one of your nighttime escapades.

For awhile there, you had briefly forgotten about that photo. It was another lost memory in the ocean of rubble left behind in the wake of your fallout with Derek. Seeing that photo again after such a long time triggered waves of emotions that you had been desperately burying for the past few weeks.

The longing, the guilt, the heartache.

The regrets.

The regret of ending your little arrangement so abruptly in such a hostile manner. The regret of not telling Derek sooner about the baby. The regret of maybe never being able to see Derek for one last time.

But most importantly, it was the regret over not revealing the truth of what your heart felt for him that was eating you alive.

"You're fucking him," Arthur fumed, eyes blazing with an indescribable fury that made your entire body shudder.

"Arthur, please... I can explain--"

"Shut the fuck up."

He stepped forward once more, crowding your personal place and rendering you helpless underneath his psychopathic gaze.

"Tell me the truth, and if you dare lie--" Arthur paused, his hand disappearing behind his back before it appeared again with a dagger that he promptly pressed against your abdomen, "--don't ever dream of meeting your child."

"Okay. Okay, I'll tell you the truth."

"You're fucking him, aren't you?"

The bile in your throat had tripled in size. Swallowing it down, you tried to even your voice out as you answered, "I was."

"Ha," he scoffed. "I knew it. You fucking whore. You're no better than any of them."

To your relief, he eventually chose to retract the dagger and stepped away from you, opting to circle the room like a distressed lion in a cage. But even with the blade no longer touching your skin, you knew very well that the danger wasn't over yet and that things could escalate even further in a matter of seconds if you weren't careful.

"Arthur," you called out to him softly, slowly, as to not startle him and risk doing something that would trigger a psychotic break. "Arthur, please. You have to listen to me. That arrangement ended long ago. It meant nothing to me. It happened long before I met you."

Arthur's voice echoed coldly as he replied, "I don't believe you."

"Please, Arthur--"

"That's his child, isn't it?" he cut you off, pointing the tip of the dagger at your belly. "What he said on the phone. He said my child. That's because it's his. You're having Derek Morgan's child."

"No--"

"I thought you were different. I thought you were the one." The dagger in his hand shook with venom. "But you're just the same as the rest of them."

"I'm not. Please, I'm not--"

"I have to start searching again. For the one. You're not her, which means she's still out there."

"Arthur--"

"I'll have to get rid of you."

"Arthur, please!" Your voice cracked, leaking of terror and desperation larger than anything you had ever known. When something wet touched the side of your nose, you realized then that you had started to cry. "Arthur, you have to believe me. I've ended everything with him. There's nothing between us anymore."

The words you uttered kept lingering in the air in a bubble made out of despair. But as if every single one of them had fallen on deaf ears, your captor paid no attention to them. Not even a single acknowledgment to your pleas.

Instead, he had begun taking careful steps forward. Silent and deadly, like a predator stalking its prey.

"Arthur, please! I choose you!"

To your shock, his steps faltered upon your words.

For a moment, you could taste relief on the tip of your tongue before it was washed away by the knowledge that you were not entirely out of the woods yet. But from the corner of your eye, you could see the slight loosening of Arthur's grip around the dagger. It filled you with enough hope to push forward.

"I'm choosing you, Arthur," you stated confidently, trying to convince him of your sincerity. "I don't care about Derek. I'm done with him. I'm done with my old life and everyone in it. I'm ready to leave everything behind to be with you. I choose you."

"You choose me?"

"Yes. I choose you to take care of me. To take care of this baby. The three of us can be a family. How does that sound?"

Seconds ticked into minutes. Minutes stretched into a long silence. The anticipation threatened to break your chest in half.

When he finally began to move once more, Arthur surprised you. He threw the dragger towards a darkened corner in the room, far away from his reach and, most importantly, far away from the possibility of it harming the growing life inside of you.

When Arthur took off the ski mask he had been wearing since the first time you opened your eyes in that harrowing place, you weren't at all surprised to see the face staring back at you. After all, it was the same face belonging to the man who had stopped his car for you when your own car had mysteriously broken down in the middle of the road just around two weeks prior. The same face who offered a business card of his friend's auto shop where you eventually went to get your vehicle fixed.

In retrospect, you should have been at least a little bit suspicious by the whole ordeal, but was it really your fault for choosing to put your trust in the good of humanity?

You knew there was no point in dwelling over what-ifs anymore. Arthur would've found a way, like any psychopath would, and you would've still ended up being tied up in this dismal room with him.

"Did you mean it?" Arthur asked.

You put on your best fake smile before answering, "Yes."

He grabbed you in his arms in just two long strides.

You wanted to throw up. You hated the feeling of his fingers stroking your back. You wanted to kick him away and get this piece of shit as far away from you and your baby as possible. You wanted to rid yourself of the lingering smell of him that had now undoubtedly transferred into your skin.

And maybe, you would've done all of those things if it was only your life that was on the line.

Unfortunately, fighting back was a luxury you couldn't afford anymore. So, you were forced to stay quiet instead, letting your captor whisper sweet nothings in your ear as if it didn't repulse you even being in the same room as him.

You were close to counting towards the 200s in your head when, suddenly, a clanking noise in the distance ripped your attention away.

In a split second, Arthur had peeled his arms from around you and got back on his feet. You knew then that he must have heard it, too.

You watched as he stepped away, dragging a crate from one corner of the room and placing it strategically underneath the only opening on the walls. He got on top of the crate to allow himself to peek outside, but whatever he saw must have startled him greatly. Because the next thing you knew, he had backed away from the wall in the blink of an eye, face crumpling in what could only be described as panic.

"The cops are here," he managed to sputter out.

"What?"

Your heart was hammering inside of its cage. The cops are here. You realized then that the team must have solved the clue you left them. They had solved the case, and they were coming to save you.

Derek was coming to save you.

"What did you do?!"

In a moment of weakness, you had allowed yourself to rejoice in the promise of freedom that you momentarily forgot you actually hadn't possessed it yet. The slip-up was miniscule, but it wasn't fleeting enough to escape the attention of your captor.

"You tricked me!" Arthur's voice boomed throughout the room, carrying rage unlike anything you had ever known. "I trusted you, and you lied to me! Again."

"Arthur--"

This time, there was no room for negotiation.

Arthur didn't even waste a millisecond before he dove forward. He was a lion, and you were the deer. His sharp teeth were calloused fingers, and they dug into your skin as Arthur tightened his grip around your throat.

"You lied to me. You lied to me."

He repeated those words like a mantra, his voice drowned out by desperate gasps as you tried to scour for what little bit of air you could still revel in. Your feet and arms shook beneath their restrains. Your head pounded from the pressure that had gathered inside your skull.

In that moment, death was imminent.

You could feel it coming. You could feel its claws clutching every single drop of life that was still remaining in your bloodstream. It was a battle between the two, and unfortunately, death was winning.

As the dark spots in your vision spread into a massive blotch, you allowed yourself to say goodbye. To life. To the world. To the memories of your loved ones whose faces you wished you could've memorized one last time.

To Derek, the one who could've been, the one you wished had been.

And to the child in your womb, the one you wished you could've met, the one you wished you could've saved.

When darkness came, you expected it to be cold and unforgiving, but as it turned out, darkness was easy. Simple. It welcomed you into its home with open arms, shielding you from the cruelties of the mundane world.

As it pulled you deeper into its abode, you could faintly hear the sound of your name being called repeatedly. It sounded similar. It sounded like home.

But this was your home now, so without turning back, you allowed darkness to lead you further down the dim path. Away from the pain and the heartbreaks of life. Far from the evil that lurked in the streets behind their well-crafted masks.

In the darkness, there was nothing.

In the darkness, you were nothing.

And nothing was exactly what you were going to be.

[flowerandblood]

ONE YEAR OF FLOWER&BLOOD

✨🎉🌙✨🎉🌙✨🎉🌙✨🎉🌙✨🎉🌙✨🎉🌙

Exactly one year ago I posted my first chapter of the My Best Friend series. Nowadays I think it's something awful and I don't even try to edit it because I'd have to write everything from scratch, but I've left it for people who feel attached to the story. I remember getting about six likes and one comment on the first day and that huuuuge interest made me eager to create chapter 2 and then all the others.

I remember the excitement with which I waited and then replied to comments, not believing that people were actually waiting for the next chapter. At the time I was literally not following anyone, which was good because I wasn't comparing myself to anyone.

Eventually I felt I was ready to try writing other series and a few were successful enough that I decided to stay here permanently and create because it made me happy. Up to that point, everyone had been very kind to me and I started following more and more blogs, wanting to feel part of the fandom, to make friends with everyone. Now I know that was the biggest mistake I made.

Seeing things that didn't interest me, fanfic's whose way of writing couldn't draw me in, I felt frustrated, while at the same time fearing that if I stopped following someone, that person would see it as an affront. At the same time, The Impossible Choice, my biggest project until The Fall from the Heavens (which I'm currently editing and re-editing, while inserting on AO3), began to be written.

Just when I thought I had reached the pinnacle of my abilities (which wasn't true), I also started to clash with anonymous hate messages, probably the worst of which were those vilifying me and my husband, and those regarding my one-shot with Micheal Gavey. I know now that taking it personally and getting involved was my big mistake, and the fandom was shaken by drama that got out of hand.

I was a few steps away from deleting my blog at the time, but my husband talked me out of the idea (thankfully, as my stories aren't saved anywhere else − I'm only now moving them to AO3).

That's when I first realised that some people here I don't even like, and they probably don't like me. I wondered, why are we following each other then? Why are we pretending to have any courtesy? It was only later that I realised that to be considered someone's friend, you have to reblog their work and preferably agree with them even when they write hurtful things.

Since I've depleted my circle of those I follow to about 20 people, since I've blocked dozens of people and tags, there's been blissful silence (with the exceptions of when I write about behaviour in the fandom that I find toxic and someone accuses me of causing drama, but I'm used to it now). I've also never written happier than I do now.

Ideas come to me on their own, I don't feel uptight about what other big people will think of me, whether they reblog it, approve of it or not. I don't give a shit and life is beautiful! Although I can be emotionally unstable, I'm only 70 people short of crossing the next milestone of 3,000 followers, and that's BIG for me. It amuses me that I keep getting messages that someone is going to block me or stop following me, and you guys keep coming. It's gratifying.

I'm going to keep writing for you guys, and I'm sure during season two you'll also see my posts describing my impressions after the episodes in which I hope to involve my husband. I'll also keep you updated here on how I'm doing with my book I'm creating in my private life.

Apreciation

@ewanmitchellcrumbs

Ange. I know that sometimes I'm fucked up, but I want you to know that you've made this place so much more bearable for me that I can't imagine it without you. What I appreciate most about you is that you can talk and discuss, that you always try to understand the other side, that you are empathetic, warm and kind. I feel that, like friends in everyday life, we can also tell each other about things we disagree about, and there are not many people like that here.

On top of that, you are very talented and your stories are always a pleasure to read, even when they are short, you are able to build the plot and atmosphere perfectly, something I have always admired. Thank you for every kind word and understanding.

I still remember your first message to me via ask, referring to the fact that I didn't want to write a pairing with a mermaid because someone else was writing about it at the same time. My heart melted then, it was so nice!

@targaryenrealnessdarling

Liz, Queen of Angst! Your calmness and composure puts me in awe. You're disgustingly talented when it comes to writing and you have a super-sweet personality. When you started following me I began to squirm with delight, and when you started reblogging my stuff? My goodness!!!

@persephonerinyes

You've been engaging and reblogging my stories for as long as I can remember. Always involved, your thoughts make me smile. Thank you for being with me for so long!

@zenka96

You've been here with me since the dawn of time. You know that I love you. Your support from the very beginning really makes me feel like I have a friend here.

@huramuna

I am so proud of you! I remember your asks when I wrote Glass Cuts Deepest, your illustrations for me and your uncertainty about whether you should start writing yourself. I'm so happy for you and that you are so successful! You deserved it.

@black-dread & @aegonx

You are my favourite gif makers. Your work always leaves me in awe, you are amazing! I know how much work you put into it and somehow you make even the worst lit scenes look wonderful!

@summerposie; @0eessirk8; @melsunshine; @immyowndefender; @bellaisasleep; @kckt88; @thedamewithabook; @happinessinthebeing; @queenofshinigamis; @travelingmypassion; @mefools; @fan-goddess; @toodlesxcuddles; @ammo23; @troublesomesnitch; @mariahossain; @out-of-life; @apothe-roses; @heavenhatesme; @whitearemydarkestnight; @liv-cole; @blackswxnn; @echos-muses; @watercolorskyy; @at-a-rax-ia; @tssf-imagines; @snh96; @hiatuswhore; @exitpursuedbyavulcan; @darylandbethfanforever9; @the-dendrophile-bookdragon; @opheliaas-stuff @zaldritzosrose

Your comments and reblogs make me want to keep writing. You make me laugh, you comfort me and you support me. I know I'm definitely forgetting someone, but I want you to know that I love everyone who comments on my stories and there is nothing better for me than responding to your reactions and questions! I have known some of you for so many months that I truly consider you my good friends!

lottie-blue-star; aveatquevale-; aemondtargaryenwifey marvelescvpe; alphard-hydraes-blog; herejusttostan; li0nn3stuff; alexandrawho; vilmakamunen; angelinap09; theloveablestargirl; rose-blue-19; xxxkat3xxx; flosaureum; mandiiblanche; librawh0re; jasminecosmic99; ivvypg; rojocarnation; killmanduh; tokkiiidoll; wolfdressedinlace; angelofvivianne; nina2697; starwarsgirlsimmer1; katsucker; ipostwhtifeel; aemondsdelight; ilswemoon; tigrigri; pasta-rask; roselibrary; lystargs; gemini-mama; nikstrange; tempo-rary-fix; coffeeobsessedtrencher; gwuinivyre; dreamerbythewayx; diiickbrainn; mothmankit

And everyone else I missed and whose icons I would recognize from afar. I know that you have been with me for many months, often in silence or communicating anonymously. Your silent support and presence is something wonderful for me, knowing that you have been with me for so long and read all my posts!

Thankyouthankyouthankyou!!!!

[candiid-caniine]

Hey! Long time no see, i know i said id send you a fantasy i thought you'd like but now ive forgotten almost all of it, oop!

Life happened, and uh, i saw that you mentioned your libido being a bit low, which definitely is my case too (im recovering from depression, now that im okay id love to get my FULL libido back, or at least a good percentage of it) do you have any tips on that?

Also any recs of blogs writing in the same vibe as you? (same-ish kinks would be nice but im specifically looking for queer inclusive stuff!) it makes me 10x hornier than the regular video/photo porn!

Hope you're well, you pathetic little thing!

💫

hi friend!! ugh i feel you. sorry i haven't got any advice on regaining ur libido...we just let mine wax and wane as it will, though denial has been a big help in keeping it steady!

i've heard good things abt ginseng and some other herbs. obvs use at your own risk, mind that some herbal treatments can cross-interact with certain medications, remember that pre-packaged supplement pills are often unregulated and may contain toxins, and be aware that some herbal remedies work better on pw certain anatomy than others, and finally that many herbal remedies considered to increase libido are largely untested on trans folx!

finally, sorry it's taken so long to answer this ask...i'm autistic and have been cataloguing lol. i present to you a list of other blog recs under the cut, organized by general vibe! i've tried to primarily include blogs that do their own posts rather than those who primarily reblog :)

note that my headings may provide some context as to what to expect, but you read at your own risk and each blog will typically have its own trigger warnings addressed in the header/pinned. additionally, i've not tagged some of the ppl below because they prefer that "Men DNI" blogs not interact, and idk if "no cis men" qualifies ahah!

all blogs below are queer- and/or trans-inclusive, if not exclusive! there is no detrans/misgendering, at least I don't think - i don't tend to follow those blogs.

hard kinks (blood, knives, etc; includes primarily-cnc blogs):

@puppy-mommy , who also does general t4t kink content, but does state untagged hard kinks!

@visciousest is someone whose blog i scroll when i'm in a Certain Mood ahah,, i won't elaborate

@hell-hound-bites: just. fuck. would drool on his knife blade.

@snuff-fag: its username should give you fair warning as to how wild its content tends to get, so please browse responsibly.

@condor-bait is taking a break right now, and all my love is with him as he takes care of himself. he made me feel so valid and so fuckable as a young trans person learning to love myself in a new way, and i've always been too shy to tell him how much his content meant to me one-on-one (yes, despite its often-extreme themes!), and he deserves as much time as he needs to heal!

@unwillingfvckpuppy for mostly cnc and medical kinks! if you like his style, but not so much their harder content, he also has a more-tame main blog--i just mainly follow/scroll this one!

@vampvictim: top-tier cnc/intox stuff, plus some great knife/bloodplay :)

@cryptidtid is wonderful and holy shit i follow a lot of hard kink blogs lol. incredible

@cnc-pet: i have been following her for a long ass fucking time lol. they post a lot of really good cnc and stories, but you'll also find a lot of aftercare tips and advice on her blog! i really admire blogs who try to balance horny content with best practices

@dollobotomy

general kinky content:

@excessively-queer . just plain old good shit :) there's a good amt of edging and degradation.

@clouded-king was honestly one of my earlier introductions to the queer/t4t kink community on here and how fucking euphoric it can be :) he posts some hard kinks, but generally it's a balance of a lot of different kinks so read his pinned at your leisure!

@ / cottontailx : just good kinky nsft posts :)

@ / digitalpenetration: often specifically t4t which i love!!

@femmelovefemme can step on me :)

@bigothteddies: could not build this section w/o mentioning him :) they had a big influence on my fantasies for a long time!

@hazelj-xoxo: bigtime want her to cuck me. have followed her across multiple blog deletions lol

@transpidered is forever an icon!

@subspaceemo

@writefinch for great stories and text posts

edging and denial, specifically:

@6irlpet is 1 of my go-to hands-down-pants scroll sessions :)

@droolkink is my inspiration!

@flustersluts does exactly what the name implies lol. a good helping of other kink content too :)

@puppycvnt is a 10/10!

@barkwoofbarkwoofbark: we r denial friends imo!!

@strawbrrysub

@blyssful-abyss

@urhighnessbitch is a big fav <3

non-detrans genderplay:

@butchviolence does amazing butch supremacy stuff and i,,, fucking hell. even just seeing their username puts me in a Particular state of mind ahah. they also post hard kinks so be aware as you proceed!

@mtfdomme: i literally just reblogged from her today lol. tbh i want to be their little stupid pupthing. it's not all transfem supremacy undertones/overtones, but that's what i mainly follow her for, plus just general t4t goodness! also, their general personality? and the way she shuts down people who disrespect their boundaries? huge inspiration for me!

@cuntboydestroyer: take me to the animal shelter and neuter me. good lord.

@the-kind-of-dame is the main inspiration for my recent genderplay post lol

@terfbreaking-tgirl (be warned of dykebreaking if that's an issue for you)

@barbarian-lesbian is my other inspiration for the recent genderplay post

@superiorineveryway

weird asf (/complimentary; my favorite type of shit. robots, ND-focused posts, etc):

@specksizedgoddess has introduced me to things i didn't know, like...existed, and that's saying a lot as one of my special interests is kink! never knew how down bad i was to be a tiny buggirl, nor how much i wanted to be someone's stupid little robot... BIG tw tho: there is snuff and gore content here, so proceed with caution if you don't wanna see that!

@sapphling fucked me up real good with some bird!sub bondage posts awhile back lol

@nobelisha: found them through their ghost cnc post so that's why they're in this category ahah! they don't have a pinned so proceed w awareness :)

@devout-cleric: hierophilia/religion kink, and i'm something of an acolyte of hers :) if you've read this far down you may as well know i'm her Little Lamb anon lol

piss/omo:

@latenightomo

@pissheartmybeloved - their URL makes me crack up every time, plus good content!

@hold-it-a-little-longer - good scenarios/imagines!

@ohmyrashi - (i think) my original intro to omo!

monsterfucking/terato:

@septimus-moonlight was my first real introduction to trans-positive terato and i've never settled for half-fun cis-oriented terato ever since :) mind tags!

@eggedbellies as well!

@bredpun doesn't appear to be active lately but still good for a scroll!

@steamandcream

@of-mutts-and-men

[palms-upturned]

Call me Meg, any pronouns.

I’m a white usamerican and do not speak Arabic, I do not verify fundraisers. A lot of folks in Gaza have reached out to me recently asking to share their campaigns, and so I’m trying my best to honor their requests and confirm the ones that have been vetted. My following isn’t exactly huge, but the friends I’ve made here have been extremely kind and generous in helping me when I’ve been in dire financial straits and I hope that they will extend the same generosity to the people of Gaza 💙

I’ve been talking daily with @lailashaqoura for a while and so it would especially mean a lot to me if my followers would follow her account and donate to/share her campaign:

If you’re a liberal who wants to send me an ask or respond to my posts about voting blue or Zionism or something to “debate” me, I’m not going to bother responding unless you attach a receipt for a donation to Laila’s campaign or I’m blocking you immediately. Add an image description to your receipt also. I’m not kidding.

Other fundraisers

Here’s a running list of verified users in Gaza who have reached out to me on my side blog, @vetted-gaza-funds!

Other tags on this blog where you can find fundraisers:

My general Palestine tag

My “asks” tag (this is where you’ll find the fundraisers of people who have reached out to me personally, I always try to link to verification from trusted users so that people won’t feel hesitant to reblog)

My donation match tag (this is where I post who I’m donating to every payday and encourage ppl to match my donations)

Palestinian users who are verifying campaigns (that I’m aware of):

el-shab-hussein

nabulsi

90-ghost

Other Palestinian users whose judgment I trust (but afaik they’re not personally verifying campaigns so do not ask them to do so):

fairuzfan

ibtisams

fallahifag

palipunk

Note: please interact respectfully with these users. They are doing these verifications and communicating with literally hundreds if not thousands of people in Gaza on a volunteer basis, in spite of literally deadly levels of stress. If you come from my blog and are even slightly disrespectful to anyone on this list I will hit you with a car.

Master lists of other vetted campaigns:

el-shab-hussein’s master list of master lists

fallahifag’s daily donation lists

google spreadsheet created by nabulsi/el-shab-hussein

Other sites where you can find verified funds:

gazafunds.com

Operation Olive Branch

Strawberry Seed Collective

Other:

A list of users who have reached out to me but who I could not find verification for. If anyone has any kind of link to a verification of these users please let me know so I can add them to my list!

If you want to send a campaign my way to add to my list on behalf of someone else, some things that would be helpful to me:

Please keep in mind that I cannot share fundraisers that have not been verified in some way. I am not Palestinian nor an Arabic speaker and have no way of verifying for myself what is or isn’t legitimate. If you send me an unvetted fundraiser, I will do my best to search regularly to see if anyone has vetted it in the future and share later if so, but that’s the best I can do.

If it has been verified but is not included in this spreadsheet, a link to the verification would be massively helpful.

If it’s a campaign that is on the Operation Olive Branch spreadsheet, please let me know where on the spreadsheet I can find it

If it’s from gazafunds.com, please show me a screenshot and/or a link where I can see the campaign featured on the website

[orangez3st]

Zest's AO3 Reading List

Just a personal list for online safekeeping :) bcs my chrome mobile currently has order 66 unclosed tabs

In AO3 I read longfics so some in this list are probably over 50k+ words roughly? Idk I read so much

To authors whose works are on this list: pls comment to be tagged! You deserve all the crediiitttssss!!!!! 🫶🏻💝

My account isn't that big to reach many people in regards of sharing, but I hope you (author) don't mind me tagging you! I want to, if I could find the authors here on Tumblr, so I can deliver my utmost appreciation and rESpEcT for creating such fabulous stories many could enjoy including me. All of you are making me gush over your plot and your OC quirks and your headcanons and I love wasting my time like this lolol

To all fanfic writers out there: stay creative 💓 all of you are doing an amazing job for serving stories like these to the majority of fans down to the smallest niche area 💓💓

I'm not good with pep talk but there u go

Nor am I good with writing hypeup gushing rants, my best effort is to actually scream like a really long high pitched AAAAAA so if you catch me tapping vote/like on your story you bet I'm positively exactly doing that and went into gibberish in my own head but I now am learning to do written version 🥺🫵🏻

Readers! Always support the authors! Leave a like/kudos at the very least! Write something in the comment section no matter how short or long that is, or reblog and share, it'll make authors happy for interacting with you!! 💝

Anything on Tumblr that I read I'll add if I spot the ao3 link as well 👍🏻 I'll always update this list as I read more and more

Tags: 💐general 🌱teen 🌳mature 🍁explicit 🧸domestic/found fam/clone shenanigans 🌸typical romantic 💄smut but light/tame 🔥explicit smut ⛑️typical violence 🌧️angst or hurt/comfort

Reader Fics

More Than Empty Servitude 🌳🧸🌸⛑️🌧️ by k8s_space (Rex)

Living Legacy 🌳🧸🌸⛑️🌧️ by ashxv (Anakin & Obi-Wan & Rex, endgame unknown yet)

By Any Other Name 🍁🧸🔥⛑️🌧️ by @rowansparrow (Rex, Fives, Echo)

What Blooms in Thunder 🍁🧸🔥⛑️🌧️ by @rowansparrow (Rex)

The Headless Guardsman 🌳🌸⛑️ by AmberOwl24 (Fox) @eclec-tech

Tambor's Monster 💐🌱🌸🌧️ by AmberOwl24 (Echo POV) @eclec-tech

OC Fics

Rex

In Command 🍁🧸🔥⛑️🌧️ by Wild_Karrde (Jedi OFC Senna Aven)

Side By Side 🍁🧸⛑️🌧️🌸 by Jamie_writes99 (Bounty Hunter OFC Lenna Stale)

When We Bleed, We Bleed The Same 🌳🧸⛑️🌸 by @inkstainedhandswithrings (Force User OFC Nevaeh Requa)

An Arrangement Meant (not) to Be Broken 🌳🧸💄 by @merlyn-bane @pyromanicdaydreamer (Nurse OFC Riis Beranna)

Fives

Halo 🍁🔥🌸⛑️🌧️ by @rowansparrow (Nautolan OMC Quill Cawthon)

caught in your gravitational pull 💐🧸🌸 by @pyromanicdaydreamer (Waitress OFC Kala)

Echo

When I Watch The World Burn 🌱🧸⛑️🌧️ by halfwaydown (Bounty Hunter OFC Senua Hallack)

Call the Twi'lek Midwife 🌳🧸🌸💄🌧️ by ficsnooneaskedfor (Midwife OFC Citali)

And For You, I'd Break A Thousand Times 🍁🔥🧸🌸 by Mermaid_of_the_Woods (Uni Student OFC Elawyn Hawk) @mermaid-of-the-woods

Jesse

I Like These Odds 💐🧸🌸 by @pyromanicdaydreamer (Athlete OC Siala Jerikko)

Fox

After A Fashion 🍁🔥🧸🌸🌧️ by @aggy72 (Fashion Designer OFC Sylvi Arak)

hold my heart in your hands 💐🧸🌸 by @pyromanicdaydreamer (Senator Aide OMC Isaac)

Cal Kestis

The Force Betrayed 🌱🧸⛑️🌧️ by arthurmangoes (Jedi OFC Sakana Angedis)

Multi

Seeing Red 🌳🧸🔥⛑️ by @hellfiresky (Rex & Fives)

Like A Ride That Cannot Be Stopped 💐🧸🌸 by @merlyn-bane @pyromanicdaydreamer (Rex, Fives, Echo, Jesse, Hardcase)

Who We Are When It Matters The Most 🌱🧸🌸⛑️ by @merlyn-bane @pyromanicdaydreamer (de-chipping AU)

Canon Fics

loopdeeloop 🌱💐🧸⛑️🌧️ by stationary_cycle (Fox and Fives stuck on a time loop to stop O66)

As we Bend and Break through Time 🌱🧸⛑️🌧️ by MapleWren (Time Travel Cal Kestis, TCW)

The GARNet 🌳🧸 by WobblyCat (clone troopers on social media)

Like Fire in Our Bones 🌱🧸🌧️ by acuteneurosis (Time Travel Leia Organa, TCW) @this-acuteneurosis

Order 65 🌱🧸⛑️ by ChaoticGoodThiefling (Post Order 66) @beskarthief

The Presence: A Spooky Bad Batch Tale 💐🧸 by AmberOwl24 (TBB halloween) @eclec-tech

See My Youth In You 💐🧸 by @merlyn-bane @pyromanicdaydreamer (Knight Obi-Wan & Padawan Anakin)

the ghost in the walls (is just a really stupid cat) 💐🧸 by @pyromanicdaydreamer (Codywan, 212th)

[gremlin-girly]

Flufftober Day 8

@flufftober

Prompt(s): Chopping/ piling wood

Pairing: pre-serum!Steve Rogers x Lumberjill!Reader

Warnings/Tags: FLUFF, kind of a meet-cute?, mentions of coughing/retching/nausea, pre-serum Steve, descriptions of asthma attack, muscled reader (ofc), nicknames (sweetheart, love, dame,)

Summary: When Steve has an asthma attack on a training drill and gets lost, he meets a friendly axe-wielding dame who takes his breath away. Word count: 1.6k

I hope you enjoy! Likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated 💜 Dividers by: @/saradika-graphics

A/N: I though of lumberjill!reader as soon as I saw the prompt. I know we see a lot of lumberjack!Steve or Steve chopping wood (bc of that scene in AOU) but as someone who did a whole project on the Lumberjills of WW2 in school - I couldn't NOT make a fic about one. We will just ignore that Steve never went to the UK pre-serum though x

I've linked articles here and here on the history of lumberjills that I recommend reading if you have the chance - Love, Grem x

Prev | Next | Masterlist

The ship over to England had been awful. The ship's interior was mostly barren and icy cold, which had triggered Steve's asthma. He'd tried hacking quietly in a corner, left to his own devices trying to sketch, but it wasn't long before he was on the deck spewing over the side of the ship - much to the amusement of some of his brother's in arms.

Within the last two hours of the trip, the waves became rockier and more volatile. Despite the size of the ship, it was still knocked about mercilessly in the sea. Now, it wasn't just Steve whose stomach churned. However, the rain outside had everyone stuck to the confines of the ship; soldiers too close, too hot and too sick to complain.

And that was only the beginning.

The rain never seemed to stop, even after leaving the ship. Everything Bucky had said about Britain in his letters was right; it was just grey and muddy. Steve's boots sank far into the mud, slipping and squelching along trying to keep up with the thrum of tired soldiers. Still, despite the sickness, despite the rain, despite everything; he was right where he wanted to be.

The rain never let up.

It was cold and humid, running in the mud through a forest trail somewhere in England. Steve was soaked to the bone and the wet, damp humidity was playing havoc with his lungs. At first, he tried powering through it. Pretending it wasn't happening as his chest tightened and he wheezed for breath.

When he couldn't ignore the tightness around his throat anymore, he'd already fallen behind. He hated this. He hated being sick all the time, the suffering, the pain. The struggling to keep up with everyone else around him. His chest tightened again and it felt like his lungs were being twisted and wrung out like a damn dishcloth.

He was supposed to be training under a British Colonel this afternoon. At least that's what he'd told himself. One who had a reputation for churning out the best soldiers. This drill was one of the first tests all of the privates and officers were put through to see if they could make the cut. Steve had stupidly tried to convince himself he could have done it. Again.

He wasn't sure where he'd turned off to either. He'd stopped to retch and catch his breath and when he'd started to jog again he'd managed to somehow take a wrong turn. Which wasn't helped by the fact he felt another attack brewing in his lungs, and had to slump against a tree to take deep, ragged breaths and cough violently, until it passed. Thankfully, the rain had stopped. "You okay?"

Steve was too busy coughing to respond but his bleary eyes looked up to see someone towering over him with an axe over their shoulder. He sucked in a harsh breath, still desperately trying to breathe. The person leaned closer, voice low and cool:

"You a nazi?" The axe slipped from their shoulder, the blade glinting viciously in the light. Steve's eyes widened and he threw his hands out quickly blinded by panic.

"American!" He wheezed, coughing again. "American!"

His palms fell against the forest floor, damp moss and twigs biting into his skin. The figure leaned back, re-adjusting the axe onto their shoulder. "Oh, sorry sweetheart. Must'a given you quite a fright."

Steve looked up again, blinking away tears from the coughing fit. The voice, now that he was paying attention, was a little too high to belong to a man. In the gentle sunlight that cascaded through the trees, Steve's mouth fell open as the sun caressed your face. You were dressed in overalls and boots caked in mud, some even on your face, with your hair tied behind you. You're smiling down at him, taking in his expression, but seemingly not offended. You looked... beautiful.

"Never seen a Lumber Jill before, have ya love?" You chuckle, offering him your free calloused hand. Steve looks at it dumbly before taking it and you tug him to his feet. You don't expect him to be so light, and he doesn't expect you to be so damn strong; so Steve ends up colliding into you, mumbling flustered apologies.

"S'alright," You chuckle, patting his shoulder as he wheezes again. Steve's face is red from coughing and embarassment. He feels worse now that there's a beautiful dame in front of him and he can barely speak without coughing and sputtering, not to mention the fact that you're helping him. "Come on, let's get you some water."

You jerk your head behind you and lead him to a stump with a backpack leaned against it. There's some neat piles of freshly chopped wood, tied together tightly with black ropes. You place your axe against the stump and rummage in the bag for a moment before handing Steve a flask of water. He mutters his thanks again, his eyes drifting over you as you stand tall again, hands on your hips. You're about his height, maybe a little smaller, but where Steve is lean and thin, you're slender and muscular. Steve can't help but stare at the way your biceps strain at the plaid shirt sleeves you've rolled up.

What a dame.

"Thanks," Steve hands back the flask and you take a swig yourself. "You said you're a - lumber Jill?"

You nod, screwing the top back onto the flask. "One of many in the Women's Timber Corps."

"The -" Steve blinks at you. "Women's Timber Corps? I haven't heard of-"

You wave your hand, cutting him off. "I didn't expect you too. Just another thing we're doing while the boys are away." You give Steve a wry smile, picking up your axe and chopping logs in two with ease and he finds himself feeling a little tongue-tied all over again. "How come you're all the way out here?"

Steve begins to explain the events of the morning and you listen with rapt attention, nodding your head in between soft grunts as you raise your axe. Once he finishes, you look over at him, free hand on your side again and leaning into your axe hilt.

"It's quite a ways back to the barracks by foot." You comment and Steve shrugs.

"I'm a soldier. If I can't even walk back there, I'll be sent home for sure. It was hard enough to get in in the first place." He grumbles, rolling a stone under his foot miserably.

"Who said anything about walking?" You quip, smirking at him. Steve's eyebrows shoot up into his cap when he looks over at you. You nod your head to your right at a dense patch of woods. "I've got the car through there. Let me finish this last pile and I'll drop you back on the way home."

Steve can't quite believe his ears, or his luck, but his momma raised him to be a gentleman. "I couldn't ask you to do that."

You raise an eyebrow at him, smirking slightly. "You're not asking, love. I'm offering. I've got to drop off some piles to the barracks anyway."

Steve grins softly at you and his eyes sparkle. "Let me help get the piles onto the car - at least."

"Sure. Thank you." You continue to chop the last of your logs, watching Steve closely as he dragged two of the four piles of wood past the treeline; huffing and puffing as he went. You had to bite back a grin more than once. Watching him soldier on was incredibly endearing. Although, the look on his face when you joined him at the car towing two of the log piles behind you at once was priceless.

The drive to the barracks was filled with chatter as you and Steve discussed your lives before, and during, the war. When you found out he was an artist, you demanded he bring you sketches when he was next in the town, to which he'd excitedly agreed.

Pulling up outside the heavily trodden gates, you killed the engine and looked over to Steve with a smile. "You better head inside whilst the weather holds."

"Yeah and thanks," Steve gushes, carefully climbing out of the car. He picked up one of the piles in his arms, leaning back to take the weight. You could just about make out the tip of his cap behind the logs and stifled a giggle.

"Don't worry about it, love." You call back to him, seeing his legs wobble a little in the mud and his ears go pink. Your own heart flutters at the sight. "Go and take those straight to Colonel L/N."

"Why? Do you know him?" Steve calls back over the roar of the engine as you restart it. That was the name of the colonel he had been so convinced he could work under. The one who had the reputation oof being one heck of a scary guy but had his soldier's respect. Steve had been unsure how he'd be reprimanded for getting lost, let alone failing to finish the drill. Thoughts of training under the colonel had pretty much dissipated.

"Yeah, he's my father." You chuckle, watching Steve almost do the splits, somehow managing to keep a hold of the wood. "Trust me, you won't be in trouble. If you tell him I sent you."

You drive away once Steve is back inside the barracks, knowing that when your father returned home that night, you would probably get an earful about sending Steve to him. However, you knew that once your father met him and saw that endurance, that drive, that spark you saw; he would help Steve become the best soldier Steve could ever hope to be.

[hookedwayfinder]

Hope you're all having a wonderful weekend, everyone!

Just to clarify - we reblog Hooked Wayfinder related posts that we find from tags such as Hooked Wayfinder, Moaui, Moana and more... We ran a poll the other day to ask if we should also post more non-Hooked Wayfinder content and the majority agreed that non-shippy content was ok too! We will still strive to keep the majority of the content related to Moana and Maui, but you might see a Tamatoa or Matangi here every now and then - though it probably has to be a really awesome post about them then.

Personally I'm also a sucker for concept art, development, meta and behind-the-scenes pictures and you might have already noticed we have been reblogging a bit more of that too.

We don't like art theft and would like to encourage people to give proper credit when taking edits or arts from other people - there are some people that are really good at this, crediting others and linking back to where they found specific arts. (Awesome fanartists like RyukiGaryu on Twitter have no presence on Tumblr, but luckily some of their arts are being put on Tumblr with proper links to the original post - so that there's no misunderstanding about who the artist is and you can easily click through to check them out online.)

Should it be possible to post their artist name and the title/description of the piece (if there is one) underneath the art, that would be perfect! (However, as Loto says: perfection's a myth!)

If there's no link back to the original artist and no name visible, we will usually not reblog the post. So, just as a reminder: proper credit is really important to us - if you need an example:

The post I screenshotted above had a link to the instagram of Jason Hand - so there was no doubt who the artist was or where the art came from.

While nobody's saying you can't use your tumblr as a pinterest board where you upload works of others (without credit!), it's not really what Tumblr is used for and it's sort of frowned upon in fandoms. (Which is also why pinterest has such a bad reputation among most fandoms) It's not something we want to encourage either, even if we appreciate your love and appreciation for the ship. If you want something on your blog, we recommend you reblog it. If you do want to make a collage or mood board, give credit to the people whose arts and edits you use, or better yet - use unedited screencaps or promo materials from Disney itself. Feel free to save whatever you want on your pc for private use, but refrain from reposting it.

We're not trying to be Tumblr police here (though it's likely it appears that way), but also just want you to know that if you have questions about how to post specific things to your blog, we'll gladly help out. We want to be able to reblog your posts, but we do not want to do that if your post consist of other stolen images. It gets messy.

Also, YES, Wayfinder February is definitely happening! We currently have 17 days filled up already and more entries are still welcome! Read more about it here.

[fairy-writes]

Hmmmmm let me order a large latte with spice with Toji from JJK (female reader) and another large latte with cream with Noe from Vanitas (female reader) 😌😌

AS SERIOUS AS THE DEAD

Reblogs and Comments are greatly appreciated!!

__________________________________________________________________________

Prompt: A fluffy Victorian-era imagine with Toji from JJK

Word Count: 1.3k

Fandom(s): Jujutsu Kaisen

Pairing(s): Fushiguro Toji x Reader

Genre(s)/Tag(s): Female!Reader, Resurrection Man!Toji, Reader is shorter than Toji

Notes: I am somewhat inspired by “Anatomy: A Love Story” by Dana Schwartz because that’s the book I just finished lol

This is also like… younger Toji… so I’m taking some liberties with his personality. 

LISTEN I KNOW WHAT I SAID ABOUT THE WORD COUNT

DON’T PERCEIVE ME

__________________________________________________________________________

The young man on the corner didn’t draw your attention at first. 

Your mother was prattling on and on about the upcoming season and potential engagements, but you paid her no mind. You just wanted to return to your books. But something about this young gentleman caught your eye. 

He was dressed in a tattered overcoat over a dirty button-down and trousers, hands stuffed in his pockets against the early spring chill. He scuffed his shoes on the cobblestone, and you could see the holes in them from your carriage as you passed. His black hair was ruffled, and those dark eyes of his bore straight into yours. 

You raised a hand and offered a polite wave. The man scoffed and turned his head away, but you could see him watching you out of the corner of his eye.

At least, you could see him until your mother drew the curtains, blocking the outside world, well… outside.

“Hey!” You turn back and exclaim indignantly. Your mother huffs out through her nose and sneers at where the man had been just a few moments ago. 

“There’s no need for you to be looking at those ruffians.” She snaps, and you just roll your eyes and peek under the curtain, ignoring her offended cries. 

But the man is gone. 

You run into the man nearly a week later. 

You have your nose in a book when you run straight into someone and go tumbling to the ground. Your dress and skirts immediately soak up the mud and rainwater from the previous night, and you very nearly drop your book but instead manage to hold it above your head to keep the pages dry. You hurriedly flip through the pages to ensure nothing got on them. Thankfully, there’s not a speck of mud or water on the pages. 

“Oi, do you want help up or not?” Comes a gruff voice, and your eyes shoot up to meet the very same eyes you had been thinking of just this morning over breakfast.

It’s the young man from before!

You quickly grab his hand, noting the calloused nature of it, and he heaves you to your feet easily. Now that you are closer, you can see he’s well-built, especially for someone of his status. His clothes are speckled with dirt, and he holds a spade in his free hand. 

What did he do for a living? 

You realize abruptly he’s waving a hand in front of your face, and you jerk back, nearly tripping again and going back down. His hand grabs your waist and pulls you back into a standing position. The book is squished between the two of you, and you blink up at the man. He offers a cheeky grin, and you push him away. 

“Sorry!” You yelp and tuck your book under your arm so you can brush at the mud coating your bum. 

Only to realize that it’s rather futile. 

You sigh and realize your day is most likely ruined when the man speaks again.

“Follow me. I have a change of clothes.” He says, and when you stare at him, he looks to the skies as if praying for patience. “Y’know, to replace your muddy ones?”

“Oh, I figured. I’m just wondering why I should follow you? I don’t even know you.” You retort, and he sighs. 

Eventually, after some back and forth, you agree to follow the mysterious man whose name you don’t know. 

You really hoped you weren’t about to get murdered. 

He leads you to a boarding house on the edge of town. It isn’t totally run down, but it isn’t super high-end, either. It’s nondescript and quaint. 

The perfect place to get murdered. 

You held your book close to your chest and smiled awkwardly at a panhandler sitting outside the boarding house. 

“Y’bringin’ home a woman, Toji? Y’scoundrel!” The beggar crows, and the young man—Toji?—rolls his eyes and tosses a few farthings into the man’s cup. 

“It’s not like that, and you know it.” He says, but he doesn’t sound upset. He sounds teasing as if this is a joke between friends. 

The man takes note of your book and dress and whistles,

“An’ y’got a proper lady this time!” He says, and Toji ushers you into the boarding house quickly without another word. 

Toji’s room was just as quaint as the outside of the boarding house. It contained a small bed, a dresser, a dressing screen, and two windows. He rummages through the dresser drawers until he finds what he is looking for. 

A dress.

It’s muddy brown in color but will do nicely as you are starting to get cold. You set your book on the dresser and step behind the dressing screen. 

“Thank you.” You say as you attempt to lace up your corset by yourself. 

Keyword being attempt. 

You usually have maids and help. But now? You’re floundering and tugging at the laces.

A few minutes later, Toji finally speaks. 

“You doing okay back there?” He asks, and you make a frustrated noise,

“Just peachy.” You respond and let out a shriek when he comes around the dressing screen. He rolls his eyes and motions for you to turn around. 

“I’m not going to do anything. Just turn around so I can lace you up and get you home.” He says, exasperated, and you eventually comply. 

Toji stays true to his word and doesn’t try anything as he laces up your corset. He deftly maneuvers the laces through the holes and tightens the article of clothing but not so tight so you can’t breathe. 

“Not bad for a body snatcher.” You mumble and realize very quickly that that was not the right thing to say. His hands still, and you swallow thickly. 

Was he going to kill you? 

Body snatching was illegal in these parts. But that didn’t stop people from trying to make a pretty guinea and digging up bodies. 

“I prefer the term “resurrection man,” much more romantic, don’t you think?” He says and finishes up lacing your corset. You turn around and watch him warily. He watches you with the exact same emotion in his eyes. 

He was just as scared of you as you were of him. 

But it wasn’t until he was walking you home that he spoke again. 

“How did you know?” He says as he scuffs his shoes and watches a carriage cross your path. You shrug, closing your book for the umpteenth time so you don’t trip. 

“You were covered in mud. And carried a spade. So I was right then?” You retort and make to cross the street. He catches your arm, and you stop. He looks around to ensure no one is following or listening in on you both. 

“Are you serious?” You gesture awkwardly with your book to the mud still on his clothes.

“As serious as the dead, I suppose.”

Toji throws his head back at that and laughs loud and boisterous. People begin to look, and you duck your head to avoid being stared at. He slings an arm over your shoulders and tugs you into his side roughly. Your book gets bent slightly as it’s stuck between the two of you.

“Oh, I think we’ll get along just fine.” He chuckles in your ear, and you feel your heart begin to race.

Just what had you gotten yourself into with talking to him?

[cultivating-wildflowers]

hi there !! i was over here because you had reblogged a really pretty photograph a while ago and i wanted to see what other lovely posts you might've found in the corners of tumblr.

i looked at your account and noticed, oh, pro-life! i was a bit wary at first because many people i've seen as pro-life are misogynistic sexist idiots who say it's a woman's fault if she's raped, even if the 'woman' in question is a fourteen year old girl. i hope you forgive my initial scepticism.

however, i read your post on the pro-life argument with the way you see it (it may have been a reblog of someone else? i can't quite remember) and i have some questions. i myself am pro-abortion, but with certain restrictions (mainly the current law in many places of you can't abort the child a month before birth because it's a human, and that aborting a child for its disabilities isn't ethical in the slightest).

what about when a twelve year old child is raped? is she meant to carry the strain of a child, scorn from parents, lack of support, blame, maybe have permanent harm or disabilities from childbirth? i have an old friend who got her menstrual cycle at eight years old. if she were raped, would she need to carry the child? in my worldview, no. a child gets raped and then the next day the "morning after" pill is administered so an elementary schooler (or middle, or even high schooler) does not have to suffer.

another question: sometimes, conception happens hours or even days after the actual ejaculation. would a "morning after" pill be outlawed? because there's no way to be sure if conception has actually happened, and if it hasn't, then taking a pill or some other action to prevent conception from happening in the first place isn't "bad".

and what about women whose children died in the womb? would anti-abortion laws still apply, would she charged with murder?

what about women who due to an illness or some other reason cannot have a child because they will die in the process, killing them and the child? would the pro-life worldview condemn both lives, or would they allow this person to take a pill and cut off the few cells that could not in any world be called a human?

if some vile person killed a woman who had conceived two days prior, would they be charged with double murder for that which is not yet a blastocyst (the zygote phase is four to five days after conception).

i'm very sorry if these questions seem accusatory or rude-- i'm genuinely trying to understand the other side, because i don't feel like i can actually justify abortion if i don't know how the "other" side would approach ethical questions. i put "other" in quotation marks because while we have two very much opposing sets of ideas on how abortion should be approached, above all we care for the welfare of people and want the best for everyone.

so sorry for putting this big chunk of text in your askbox, and feel free to ignore it, but you're one of the first genuinely nice people i've seen that is pro life who isn't trying to justify arguments with religion (because separation of church and state means no religion as sole justification for law, which is what many people i've seen try to do)

thank you!!

Hello! Thank you so much for your detailed questions! I'm happy to answer as best I can. I had thought this might take a while to answer, because I had to find a few resources I knew I had linked somewhere that helped me as I was sorting through the logistics of my own convictions surrounding being pro-life. Turns out this was how I'd spend my evening, lol.

I still have gaps and I'm always happy for civil discussion. (As you know, a lot of my thoughts are under my pro-life tag. Apologies in advance that several of my links just shoot back to posts I've reblogged, but they're more comprehensive than a single webpage. I can also direct you to a couple of tumblr folks I follow who have even more resources and cover different facets of the issue than I usually reblog or that I'm still investigating.)

As you might have guessed, this got long, so I'm tucking it under a read-more. But before I do, here is my most important resource: What actually happens during an abortion. I rarely say anything is so important that everyone needs to see it. This is one of those times.

i was over here because you had reblogged a really pretty photograph a while ago and i wanted to see what other lovely posts you might've found in the corners of tumblr.

The funny thing is that used to be 90% of my blog until like two years ago, and now here we are 😅 (I lost a lot of followers when I started actually using this like a blog. I also found a lot of great friends.)

i looked at your account and noticed, oh, pro-life! i was a bit wary at first because many people i've seen as pro-life are misogynistic sexist idiots who say it's a woman's fault if she's raped, even if the 'woman' in question is a fourteen year old girl. i hope you forgive my initial scepticism.

Yeah, can't say I'd care to associate with those people, either, and I'd love to challenge them on their own convictions (only, 1. I'm not really one for heated debates and 2. I'm pretty sure I, a single 20-something woman, would be immediately ignored, so why waste my time).

however, i read your post on the pro-life argument with the way you see it (it may have been a reblog of someone else? i can't quite remember) and i have some questions. i myself am pro-abortion, but with certain restrictions (mainly the current law in many places of you can't abort the child a month before birth because it's a human, and that aborting a child for its disabilities isn't ethical in the slightest).

While I was born and raised in a pro-life family, being pro-life as an adult is a conviction I claim and have searched out for myself. I know, and science affirms, that life begins at conception. (Yes, all of those frozen embryos stored at ivf clinics are unique and full human beings. I'll be so honest with you and say even I have to grapple with that and no, I haven't begun to grasp the implications.) Every single human being is deserving of dignity, from womb to tomb. It is never permissible to murder a human being for being inconvenient. (Canadian and British government healthcare systems, I'm looking at you. Also, Iceland, I see your claim that you've eradicated Down syndrome and I know you're a bunch of lying cowards.) It is never permissible to murder someone because they have the potential to be inconvenient. I could be hit by a car tomorrow and end up with brain damage. I could lose my job and plunge into horrible poverty. I could meet some random guy and end up in an abusive relationship. If it's not ok to kill me because of less-than-ideal circumstances, it is not ok to kill a child because they might be born disabled, or into a poor family, or into an abusive situation. We need to fix their circumstances, not kill them.

(Before I get much further, this post is a collection of a lot of my favorite resources on the impact abortion has on women. More facts and figures here. Unfortunately I cannot find the link to the study, but I have seen it cited often on here that a large majority of women who considered abortion but did not go through with it, within five years, are glad they didn't get an abortion. I believe the number is between 90 and 95% but again, can't find the link.)

For the last eight years, I've worked at an organization that provides care for individuals with disabilities, many of whom have the sort of disabilities that would make doctors suggest abortion. Not one of those human beings would be better off dead. The world is richer for them being in it, and I'm happy to know them. They deserve support and dignity, not death.

There is no magical point at which a preborn baby becomes human or becomes a person. They are human from the moment of conception. I have a friend who was born nearly two months prematurely; did she have to wait a month post-birth to be considered human?

There are also no non-person humans. Personhood is not merit-based. Again, if I end up with brain damage and have to rely on other people for the rest of my life, do I cease to be a person?

what about when a twelve year old child is raped? is she meant to carry the strain of a child, scorn from parents, lack of support, blame, maybe have permanent harm or disabilities from childbirth? i have an old friend who got her menstrual cycle at eight years old. if she were raped, would she need to carry the child? in my worldview, no. a child gets raped and then the next day the "morning after" pill is administered so an elementary schooler (or middle, or even high schooler) does not have to suffer.

It is a fact that abortion protects abusers. It is a fact that rapists and sex traffickers force women to have abortions to keep them in those horrible situations. Abortion is anti-woman, because it helps horrible men dodge all responsibility, and it prevents society at large from having to address the actual causes that often drive women to abortion.

Rape accounts for about 1% of all abortions. I'm not saying that makes it ok and I'm not trying to dismiss it, I'm just observing that it's nearly always treated as the main driver behind abortion when it is not. What it is is one of the most horrific things that can ever happen to a person, and the offender needs to be dealt with, with extreme prejudice. Killing a child helps no one. The mother deserves protection, she deserves support, and she deserves medical care. I don't know all the ins and outs of how best to handle this situation, but I believe the best case scenario is eventually a c-section. (A book I really appreciated that covered a situation like this is I Am the Exception by Anna Richey [video linked]). There are countless testimonies of women who were in this situation who chose to save their children and they are glad they did. They know the answer was not to kill children. There are countless testimonies of people who were conceived in rape who are glad their mothers chose to give them a chance at life. They know their lives have value and are worth living. Mother and child are both victims who deserve justice, not trauma heaped upon trauma.

(There's a whole discussion to be had here around child marriage and sexual abuse but unfortunately I don't have the material to even touch it. I can say making pedophilia a protected "identity" is so far off the mark that the radar can't even pick it up.)

(I will briefly sidebar to wave at the legislation being put into place to teach human development in schools via the Baby Olivia...project? [I forget what the whole initiative is called which is horrible because I've seen it around a lot lately.] I think that's actually pretty awesome. Kid-me would have been fascinated [and a bit grossed out because yeah, I was an awkward kid].)

another question: sometimes, conception happens hours or even days after the actual ejaculation. would a "morning after" pill be outlawed? because there's no way to be sure if conception has actually happened, and if it hasn't, then taking a pill or some other action to prevent conception from happening in the first place isn't "bad".

I have to disagree there. It's still bad. Especially because, in the overwhelming majority of cases, we're talking about sex between two consenting adults who are looking to disrupt a natural process and divorce it from all natural responsibility for the sake of convenience. If you don't want to get pregnant, don't have sex. If you don't want to have a kid with that person, don't have sex with them. Simple as. Biological children are not a human right, and neither is sex.

(If you poke around at enough of my blog you'll notice I'm straight-up against birth control. For one thing, it is extremely harmful to women; for another, it is a band-aid that has completely stalled the improvement of women's healthcare; for another, it is seriously damaging the average Western woman's understanding of her own body and biology; and there's the whole disrupting-a-natural-process bit. But I digress.)

and what about women whose children died in the womb? would anti-abortion laws still apply, would she charged with murder?

Reading any of the laws in question shows that ectopic pregnancies and miscarriages aren't at all included in those laws. Those are not abortion because the pregnancy is nonviable and it has become a medical situation. Abortion wouldn't even help those situations; if anything, it would only make everything worse, and risk the life of the mother. Abortion is not medical care. Ectopic pregnancies and miscarriages have to be treated medically. All of the cases I've seen where "a woman was charged with murder for miscarriage" end up being something else like "woman miscarried and tried flushing her baby down the toilet" (yeah that was an actual thing in the last month and she was charged with improper treatment of human remains which... = human dignity.)

what about women who due to an illness or some other reason cannot have a child because they will die in the process, killing them and the child? would the pro-life worldview condemn both lives, or would they allow this person to take a pill and cut off the few cells that could not in any world be called a human?

Abortion is not healthcare. If a woman is already at risk of complications, abortion will only make those complications worse. They will not help her. There is not a single situation where pregnancy is so dangerous that the only answer is abortion.

Those "few cells" are human. I'm also a clump of cells; I'm human. If I'm drowning (unlikely because I avoid swimming because I suck at it), is it ok for the lifeguard to hold my head underwater instead of making me calm down so they can tow me to shore?

Any reasonable human being who recognizes that the woman in question is carrying another human being, her child, would recognize that what they both need is medical care. The mother can be monitored, her condition treated as best as possible, and there's always the option to deliver early. Modern medicine allows us to support babies who are almost as early as 20 weeks premature! The answer is to take care of these people, not kill one because the other is in danger.

And in case anyone is wondering, this goes for babies who are "incompatible with life". 1. Doctors make mistakes and it's proven they often make mistakes where fetal development is concerned. (My sister got the scare of her life when a stupid tech told her that her third baby had "spots on her brain". I told my coworker, who said the same thing happened to her 15 years ago and one doctor bandied about the word "abortion" in front of her. Friends, the baby's brain was still developing. My sister's child is fine, and stupidly adorable to boot. Please.) 2. Even if that baby is "incompatible with life", the answer is not to kill them more quickly (and far, far, far more painfully). The answer is to treat them as best as medically possible, support their parents, and afford them the dignity deserving to every human being. Palliative care is a thing. For heaven's sake, let's use it more.

(My mother used to be a volunteer photographer for an organization where she went to hospitals and took pictures of babies who either had just passed or who didn't have long to live, to give their parents something to remember their children by. I also have so so many relatives and friends who have suffered miscarriages and stillbirths. I don't know that grief firsthand, but I know what it looks like, and I know that parents and siblings need support, not murder.)

(We also really need to stop treating all pregnancies like medical situations or a disease. They aren't. Pregnancy is natural. It is only when there are complications that it becomes a medical issue. I love modern medicine by and large. I love that it can help improve our lives. But sometimes doctors need to butt out and let women do what they were built to do.)

if some vile person killed a woman who had conceived two days prior, would they be charged with double murder for that which is not yet a blastocyst (the zygote phase is four to five days after conception).

I don't know all of the legalities of double homicides in the case of pregnancy. I'm fairly certain that if it is known that the woman is pregnant, regardless of whether or not that motivated the murder, then the charge is double homicide. I would assume if the pregnancy was unknown, it doesn't apply? (I watch too many murder mystery and police procedural shows to have any faith in how these things are determined.) Morally, two people have been killed regardless, but I have no idea on the legalities.

Also, note that zygote and blastocyst are stages of human development, same as embryo, fetus, newborn, infant, toddler, adolescent, and adult.

i'm very sorry if these questions seem accusatory or rude-- i'm genuinely trying to understand the other side, because i don't feel like i can actually justify abortion if i don't know how the "other" side would approach ethical questions. i put "other" in quotation marks because while we have two very much opposing sets of ideas on how abortion should be approached, above all we care for the welfare of people and want the best for everyone. so sorry for putting this big chunk of text in your askbox, and feel free to ignore it, but you're one of the first genuinely nice people i've seen that is pro life who isn't trying to justify arguments with religion (because separation of church and state means no religion as sole justification for law, which is what many people i've seen try to do)

I don't think any of this comes off as rude or argumentative in any way! You laid out every point very clearly and it's nice to be able to discuss it as clearly as I am able (which, admittedly, is sometimes as clear as milk) instead of feeling like I have to defend myself (usually in that case I just give up and delete the ask). Again, I'm happy to look into any of this further and to provide better resources if there's something lacking in any of my points. I'm by no means perfect, and my arguments, while driven by a deep-felt and sincere conviction, are not as thorough as perhaps they should be. That's on me to work on, but I'm happy to do my best in the meantime.

Part of my convictions are grounded in my belief in God, but as you are aware, they can't be my whole foundation, and if the person on the other side of the conversation doesn't share that belief, we need another point of common ground for our discussion. (Secular Prolife is an excellent resource if you want more in-depth, non-religious discussions of this topic. I know there are others, but I don't have the list in front of me.)

And it is important to explore all sides of the issue! It's kind of hard to argue coherently otherwise. I see this discussion all the time from people "on the other side" or on the fence, both people I know and total strangers. I'm familiar with a lot of their arguments, both the ones they consider good-faith and the ones that are obviously driven by vitriol. Listening to them only helps bring clarity to my own knowledge and convictions.

I know so many people who are "for abortion with exceptions" are sincerely motivated by concern for other people. The onus is on them to figure out why, for them, that means killing some people for the sake of others. It's not enough to say "Well, I've never been in that situation, so I don't have room to speak". Abortion is a human right's issue. We all have a place at the discussion. Because at the end of the day, it comes down to one thing:

Abortion is the intentional killing of a child, a human being. It doesn't matter the reason behind that killing, whether it's a question of health, social circumstance, situation in life, or fear. It is murder.

And it is never ok.

For further reading (the majority of these are actual links, not links to tumblr posts):

This post and the notes are my-go to for the breakdown of the key abortion arguments.

Choice42

Carrying To Term

New Wave Feminists

The Human Defense Initiative

Birthright International

Abortion73

Rehumanize International

And again, if you are looking for more nice and rational people who are willing to discuss things like adults, I can give you a list!