#I love how many people do not realize this

[coracoracora-the-explorer]

Eh, I agree to an extent. At this point it's just become a consumerist holiday that we celebrate as an excuse to splurge on things that we normally wouldn't waste money on. (I day this as someone raised in a conservative Christian family, so don't mind the hint of bitterness as i deconstruct a fundamental value of their beliefs)

(Aside) I also don't think you have to adhere to the origins (which are pagan, not Christian, but you know what i mean) in order to celebrate something or partake in some of the traditions.

Lbr if you’re not Christian in America christmas is essentially the holiday you participate in so you don’t get bullied into oblivion and beaten with sticks and hammers

[amourdivine]

୨ ♡ ୧ THE LAST TIME THEY SAW YOU ୧ PAC

Hello my lovelies! Welcome to another pick a card. This reading is all about the last time you saw them! We will be looking into their feelings and thoughts, as well as channeling extra songs and messages from this person. Feedback, likes and reblogs help me grow my platform and are highly appreciated! If you liked this reading, please consider tipping me at @ amourdivinetarot@gmail.comvia paypal! xo ♡

INSTAGRAM ୭ YOUTUBE ୭ MASTERLIST ୭ PAYHIP

›    none of the images are mine unless stated otherwise. ›    personal readings are available!

HOW TO CHOOSE YOUR PILE.  take a few deep breaths and look at each picture separately. see which one brings you to a feeling, a place or a memory. take your time and feel free to come back to it later!

𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝐎𝐍𝐄 ༉ ‧

how were they feeling the last time they saw you? knight of swords ‧ eight of pentacles ‧ queen of wands ‧ the emperor ‧ eight of cups

Oh, this person was trying to look unbothered. Busy. They were trying to make it seem like they were completely over you and not at all tempted to take a leap towards you. They were holding back their fire, their impulsivity, holding onto logic and stoicism.

This person is proud, okay, really proud. They've got a big ego and along with it, a lot of self-denial, especially when it comes to their feelings towards you. It's almost as if they feel nothing at all, but this Emperor looks nervous, he looks fidgety, like he is trying to keep his hands busy and his eyes away from the Queen of Wands. Many of the messages felt very 18+, lol.

If they left the scene early, it's probably because of you. You made them feel off, you made them feel out of control, uneasy. This person's attraction towards you is no joke, but they're not ready to deal with those feelings yet. It's as if your presence is a hurricane, taking everything down, making them question everything they worked so hard to build. Jesus, pile one, I don't know what you've done to this person, but it has a very intense emotional and physical effect on them.

what were they thinking the last time they saw you? nine of wands ‧ five of swords ‧ four of cups ‧ page of wands ‧ seven of swords

They were focusing on keeping their feelings under wraps. Not only were their nervous, but also quite sneaky. Depending on who this person is, they may have been trying to look happy with other people, so moved on, all the while feeling miserable. If the two of you talked, they may have sneaked in a few white lies about how happy they were to meet you, how good they're doing, etc.

But mostly, their mind was all over the place. They kept trying to make themselves look cooler than how they really felt, planning how they were moving, who they were going to talk to... how they'd approach you, how they'd make you jealous or make you feel inferior. This person is extremely competitive - big ego, like I said. Whatever has happened between the two of you lingers a lot on their mind and leaves them feeling ungrounded, anxious and out of control.

If a fight happened between the two of you, that's what they were thinking of. They had all the comebacks, but held back from fighting. For most of you, they just wanted to rub their happiness, their joy in your face. Regardless of how much of a lie that actually is.

channeled songs and messages. she's so gone by lemonade mouth, liar liar pants on fire, champagne, best friends forever, necklace, silver, diamond ring, "she looks nothing like you", olivia rodrigo, beef, cindy lou who by sabrina carpenter.

𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝐓𝐖𝐎 ༉ ‧

how were they feeling the last time they saw you? seven of cups ‧ ten of wands ‧ death ‧ ten of pentacles ‧ four of wands

Gosh, they were overwhelmed inside, pile two. All the what ifs, the yearning and the missing you caught up to this person. They grieved the could've been... or perhaps they grieved what was, for some of you. Right then and there, they realized it may have been to late to fix things, to make them right again. Although they wanted to, they were too tired to bother. The sight of you was enough to bring back old memories, many of which they were probably trying to forget or get over.

A specific song came to my mind for this pile, called The Dress by Dijon. It tells the story of two people meeting up again after some time and they both seem to miss each other, still a little hurt from the breakup - but the feelings are not bitter, just sweet and intense.

For most, they felt a mixture of feelings. They probably didn't let you in on it, but it was there. Joy, sadness, hurt, anger. A lot of these emotions at once, which made them realize that they still hold out a candle for you. They still hope for something more, even if this connection is in limbo right now, their heart could not stop longing for more. There's a lot of fantasizing as well, which is why I'll get to the next portion of the reading!

what were they thinking the last time they saw you? the hanged man ‧ five of cups ‧ the devil ‧ the hermit ‧ ace of pentacles

They figured some time should go by until both of you heal some more before trying again. Honestly, this person may be intentionally giving you some space until the two of you can talk or have something more solid, more stable. They thought the wounds and hurt was too fresh, the regret still lingers and they still feel tied to these unhealthy patterns or behaviors that led to your demise.

If they treated you poorly, ghosted, rejected or even cheated on you, they deeply regret it. They may not have said it, but they're sorry for the way things turned out.

However, they want to heal. They're being more strategic about themselves, looking inward, trying to discover the aspects of them that probably unconsciously ruined this relationship. They seem pretty serious about leaving the past behind, to give it some time until the connection can be renewed. Maybe later down the line, when both of you are older, you'll be able to sit down and talk, once the two of you have forgiven your past mistakes and the regrets are not so heavy on their mind. Even if as friends, they wouldn't want to miss out on this opportunity.

channeled songs and messages. all too well by tswift, birthday candles, night time, silk dress, "stupid", 777, "i should have known", secret playlist, see you again, 405, train, bus, we meet by chance, pictures off the wall, country, folk, 00's pop.

𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄 ༉ ‧

how were they feeling the last time they saw you? page of swords ‧ nine of pentacles ‧ knight of cups ‧ the hanged man ‧ the moon

Feelings they tried to bury deep within have come out and made this person realize they really like you. They were curious - they wanted to know if you were single, if you were seeing someone... how you were doing. But gosh, they felt so insecure, indecisive and confused. This person has deep-seated fears when it comes to relationships that they may not let on.

They wanted to talk, to reach out, to ask you out. For most of you, this is an intense crush. They like you, they do, but they have self-sabotaging tendencies that stall them, that make them stay in one place and never move. Even if this Knight of Cups doesn't wish to, he moves away from the woman in the 9 of Pentacles, like he's a walking contradiction.

This person is not used to these feelings. They seem much like a small child discovering something quite obvious to everyone else but them. I hear Rubik's Cube by Athlete in my mind, you should definitely check out the lyrics if this reading resonates.

You make them question their sanity, almost. Not in a bad way, but you've intrigued them, haunted their heart because they have been trying to figure out why these feelings are there, just why they like and want you so much, but there's just no answer. You make them giddy, you make them excited, a little nervous and high up in the clouds. They just don't want you to know that yet.

what were they thinking the last time they saw you? the empress ‧ the moon ‧ two of pentacles ‧ ace of swords ‧ the fool

Quite literally, they could not stop thinking about your beauty. You stand out to this person even if you're not trying to. They just wanted to focus on something else, but their mind kept being drawn towards you, their eyes couldn't get enough of your beauty, your charm, how intelligent, whole and perfect you seem in their eyes.

No matter how they tried to control their thoughts, their hidden world came to the surface. They were forced to acknowledge that yes, they do like you and they might have to do something about it. To take a leap of faith even if it makes them look foolish, childish or stupid in your eyes. They knew they'll have to do it scared if they want to be with you, they'll have to face their fears and insecurities in order to be worthy of you.

They may have been weighing the pros and cons in their mind as well, but the answer was bravery, courage. The cards here suggest they want to do something bold, they definitely have thought about it long enough to realize coming towards you will be a big step, but the great start of an adventure for the two of you.

channeled songs and messages. start of something new by high school musical, late night nostalgia, november, december, aquarius, pisces, venus, libra, 2, 222, breakthrough, "out with the old, in with the new", new year's eve.

𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑 ༉ ‧

how were they feeling the last time they saw you? the world ‧ seven of swords ‧ the chariot ‧ two of wands ‧ ten of pentacles

I'm not really sure what kind of connection you may have with this person, but they were quite literally feeling on top of the world. They wanted to show off, they felt successful, accomplished - almost to an arrogant, overbearing degree - and surrounded by good things. They were likely wearing fancy clothes, being loud in the crowd, trying to catch everybody's attention, but especially yours.

It may not have seemed like they were trying to gain your approval because they seemed just so fine and comfortable in the spotlight, but secretly, they were hoping you'd look their way and feel that way about them: successful, well-known, well-read, handsome, accomplished.

Maybe they had a few too many drinks to begin with, or maybe they just partied too hard, but the feeling here is one of humble-bragging whilst simultaneously showering oneself in praise. It's quite interesting, to be honest, but the heart of the matter is that they were feeling good, looking good and they wanted to make sure you would see that. I wouldn't be surprised if this person hit on someone or several different people to try and make you jealous. The energy is not malicious, but extremely immature, f-boy almost.

what were they thinking the last time they saw you? queen of pentacles ‧ six of swords ‧ knight of cups ‧ five of pentacles ‧ five of cups

This is oddly specific, but, you probably didn't give them an ounce of attention. If you did, they didn't think it was enough. They took your actions as rejection, because you seemed so healed, so fine, so unbothered and joyful that this person could not help but think negatively afterwards.

Whatever their plan was, it didn't work with you. If they tried to play mind games, to sweep you off your feet and make you come towards them... it didn't work, so they saw themselves as some sort of failure. This person has a very fluctuating self-esteem, they seem to rely a lot on the opinions and actions of others to define their self-worth.

For whatever reason, they were hoping to gain your approval - but the fact they didn't get whatever they wanted from you made them pity themselves. They may have spent the night over-analyzing, moping to friends or to themselves about it, wondering why you didn't give them a chance, why you didn't look their way.

channeled songs and messages. "homeboy", friends with benefits, dior, crowded place, 666, rap, hip hop, freestyle, ice on my teeth by ateez, overspending, prada, diamond tears, big checks, blackpink, money by lisa, expensive perfume, menswear.

amourdivine. 2021 - 2024 © do not copy, redistribute or edit my content!

DISCLAIMER. tarot is a divination tool, it’s not a substitute for medical and professional advice, nor is it meant to be taken as such. i don’t take responsibility for any choice(s) made by you or others regarding my readings. be mindful ♡

[leunusualsuspect]

I’m so fucking tired of people being like

“Oh well a bunch of Zionists reblogged this, no more reblogging”

“Zionists are reblogging this. Suspicious.”

Do.

You.

Guys.

HEAR YOURSELVES?

This isn’t something that makes a damn lick of sense without the thought terminating cliche that “Zionists writ large support all actions of the state of Israel and the melting of Palestinian lives”

But who is a Zionist? Is it a person who labels themselves as such? Are they a Jew who is merely standing for their people? Because this shit is exactly how persecutors of Jewish people in the past operate. People were kicked out of their homes for being labeled “Zionists”. Had their property seized for being “Zionists”. Were POGROMED for being “Zionists”.

You don’t find it odd that so many people who do label themselves as Zionists are lock step with progressive politics in English speaking countries, and especially in the US? You don’t think that’s the least bit curious?

Hashem give me the fucking strength to handle the refusal to “talk to your neighbor”of these goyishe lunatics.

And BEFORE you jump down my motherfucking throat, I’m a non-Zionist only because the state of Israel exists. It’s here. Zionist dream realized. So I needn’t declare myself for an ideology that has ostensibly achieved its goal. But you must acknowledge that this choice of label is not how most Jews view Zionism. Hell, I still question it myself.

But if you choose to label me a Zionist because I want peace and coexistence for all peoples with historical, ethnic, cultural and religious ties to the land we refer to as Israel-Palestine and recognize the complete and utter impossibility of kicking anyone out, then fine.

Be a fool.

Feed the dogs of war.

Spare me your “I love Jews” michegas.

I’m eating another latke and holding my community and real allies tighter.

And just so you all understand this in English:

May all of your teeth fall out save the one that aches.

Shmucks.

[geneviveleocardius]

silco and his way of loving you

my man

silco is a man of plans and ambition, but when it comes to you, everything else takes a backseat. you are his exception, the one person he trusts entirely.

if anyone threatens you, silco’s rage is terrifying. he’s a man who built a criminal empire; he knows how to destroy enemies utterly and ruthlessly. for you, he wouldn’t hesitate to dismantle all of it.

silco ensures your safety with meticulous planning. from hidden bodyguards to secure safehouses, you might not even realize how many layers of protection he’s arranged for you.

silco isn’t the type to shower you with grand romantic gestures. instead, his love is shown in the little things: making sure you have everything you need, fixing things before you even know there’s a problem, and quietly watching over you when you’re vulnerable.

silco is not overly physical, but when you’re alone, he’ll let his guard down. a hand on your lower back, fingers brushing against yours, or his thumb tracing your jaw when he cups your face—these moments mean everything coming from him.

at night, when the stress of the day fades, he’ll let his mask slip. silco holds you close, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on your skin as he whispers plans and dreams only meant for you to hear.

his sharp tongue spares no one, not even you, but there’s an unmistakable fondness in his teasing. he loves when you fire back, and the smirk that plays on his lips tells you he’s impressed by your wit.

silco has a knack for giving you nicknames that sound mocking but secretly melt his heart. whether it’s “darling,” “my torment,” or “trouble,” there’s always a hint of affection in his tone.

silco is a master of manipulation, but with you, there’s no need for pretense. you see the parts of him no one else does: the man who doubts, aches, and dreams. in you, he’s found someone he can truly rely on.

when the world feels like it’s pulling him into the abyss, you’re the one who keeps him grounded. he might be zaun’s eye, but you’re his anchor.

you’re the only person who sees the rare moments of guilt or pain flicker across his face. when his walls come down, he doesn’t speak much, but the way he clings to you says everything.

silco has no issue getting his hands dirty, but when it comes to you, he’ll even set aside his pride if it means making you happy. whether it’s something as small as an apology or something as monumental as changing his plans, he’ll do it for you.

silco is fiercely possessive, but he trusts you enough not to smother you. still, the way his sharp gaze lingers on anyone who gets too close is enough to send most people running.

silco may not be one for flowery words, but when he tells you, “you’re mine,” it’s a vow that carries more weight than any traditional declaration of love.

being loved by silco means being the most precious thing in a dangerous world. his love is intense, consuming, and unyielding—but with it comes a promise that you’ll never face anything alone.

silco’s love is quiet but intense, like a slow-burning fire. he isn’t the type to shout his feelings or wear his heart on his sleeve, but everything he does is for you. he shows his love through actions—ensuring your comfort, solving your problems before you even know they exist, and always putting you first.

he respects your independence but always watches out for you from the shadows. his way of saying “i love you” is often subtle: a rare, vulnerable gaze held a moment too long, or a quiet “stay safe” that carries more weight than any grand declaration.

silco’s kisses are measured and intense, like he’s savoring every second. he doesn’t rush, letting the moment linger as if nothing else exists.

in private moments of tenderness, he’ll press a soft kiss to your forehead, his way of silently promising to protect you.

he loves to tease you with playful, possessive nips during a kiss, a reminder of the passion simmering beneath his calm exterior.

he has a habit of kissing the sensitive spot just below your ear when he wants to make you melt, his voice low as he murmurs something teasing or affectionate.

silco thrives on making your life easier. whether it’s handling a problem you didn’t want to deal with or silently taking care of something before you even notice it, he shows his love through his competence and reliability.

though his life is busy and chaotic, he always carves out time for you. these moments are sacred to him, whether it’s sitting in comfortable silence or talking late into the night.

while he isn’t overly expressive, silco’s words, when he chooses to speak, carry immense weight. he knows exactly how to reassure you, lift you up, or show his admiration with sharp, carefully chosen phrases.

he loves the way your hands feel in his—smaller, softer, yet steady. he’ll hold your hand under the table during tense meetings or brush his fingers over yours in quiet moments, finding comfort in the connection.

silco is intense but never reckless. he approaches intimacy with the same deliberate care he applies to everything else, making sure you feel adored and completely satisfied.

he knows every inch of your body and every reaction you have. nothing escapes his notice, and he takes his time learning exactly what makes you feel good.

silco likes to take control, but he’s not harsh—he’s commanding, confident, and endlessly patient. he makes you feel safe while igniting a fire you didn’t know existed.

intimacy is one of the few times he allows himself to be completely unguarded with you. his whispered confessions and soft touches reveal a man who trusts you in ways he trusts no one else.

silco loves to keep you on your toes with sly comments and sarcastic humor. “oh, you think you can outsmart me? charming, but unlikely,” he’ll say with a smirk when you challenge him.

even after all this time, the way he looks at you can make your heart race. his sharp, calculating gaze softens into something warmer, more intimate, when his eyes meet yours across a crowded room.

a hand on the small of your back, a light brush of his fingers against yours, or a firm grip on your waist remind you that you’re his.

he’ll catch you off guard with unexpected praise. “you’re too brilliant for your own good, you know that?” he says, his tone half-teasing but completely sincere.

silco thrives on stolen moments of intimacy. even in the middle of a busy day, he’ll pull you aside, his voice low and suggestive as he murmurs, “do you have any idea how distracting you are?”

being loved by silco is like being claimed by a storm—intense, consuming, and completely unshakable. he’s not just your lover; he’s your partner, protector, and equal, and he makes sure you never doubt how deeply he adores you.

[help-help-i-need-an-adult]

This!

I love to sing. I’ve been singing on stage and at every opportunity since I was 5.

I have traveled the country to sing. I volunteered to be awake every day at 4am and not get home till midnight during the final week of a semester every year to do extra singing as a kid.

I’ve sang with opera companies and local theaters and ballet companies as a volunteer.

When I was the age I was doing this, my dad told me to do what I love for a living and I’ll never work a day in my life.

The thing is singing is work. A lot of it. And it’s hard work.

(There are some lucky people who could refuse to do a lot of the things I’m about to get into and still be successful professional singers, but I promise you, they are not the majority of musicians.)

Specifically, I hate reading sheet music. I can read it and I’m really good as sight reading. But I hate it.

I hate wearing makeup. The older you get, the more you’re expected to wear makeup.

I hate heels. And shaving. And a slew of other things you are expected to do all the time if you’re a singer as an adult female. Dresses and bras and spanks and UGH! No thank you.

And here’s another thing. I watched my older sister who also loves to sing pursue being an opera singer since the age of 13.

She worked a job as early as 14 to pay for her own piano lessons. She went to a fine arts high school and trained under one of the most prestigious soprano opera coaches in the world. She couldn’t get into a college of the same caliber, but studied music anyway.

I watched her bleach her hair to straw and then stop. Over eat and then starve herself with a scary diet. Worry about her makeup every damn day and wear heels around the house so she would be used to them. Fret over outfits being exactly what would be acceptable in her profession of choice to the point where she didn’t have clothes for clubbing with friends. She wore a pink sweater and white pencil skirt to go clubbing with a friend once. She looked like she was going to church.

She got her 1st degree in music education because she couldn’t audition for an opera company till she was 35, and then didn’t use it because she hated teaching children.

She proceeded to work retail and food service and hate it and be miserable and mean to everyone around her because of it.

She became so critical of MY singing and MY appearance because she assumed I’d follow her footsteps to being a professional singer. I couldn’t sing to myself while doing chores without her stopping me to tell me I’d done xyz wrong. I couldn’t buy and wear a dress for an event without her spending hours telling me why it was ugly and how I’d get raped in it. (Nevermind how many other people told me it looked lovely, that shit sticks in your head in a bad way.)

She tried to force me into a diet at 14. I was 5’5 and 130lbs soaking wet.

She called me lazy for not having to energy and drive to pay for my own piano lessons. Nevermind that my teenager level paycheck was going to pay for my own medical care.

I know she kept going back to school for music and was working on her doctorate at one point because our brother told me about it. I have no idea if she’s auditioned and been accepted by an opera company or not. I stopped talking to her over a decade ago because I couldn’t take her abuse anymore.

She took dad’s advice so literally that she worked herself into a terrible person. She was just as miserable as our dad who didn’t follow his dreams at all because of money if not more so.

I watched her doing these things to herself and others and by 14 I realized I did not want that for myself.

I tried a few different things. I thought I might be a lawyer or historian or even a teacher.

In the end, college was awful for me. I never finished despite getting a head start on it at 15. I worked retail jobs until I landed my current position.

I like it a lot. More importantly, I love the life it affords me.

I like the work. It’s fairly repetitive and easy to manage. It even is contributing to a cause I find to be important to bettering the world.

I like the people I work with. I get to work from home and watch tv while I work and have a cat on my lap. I almost never have to get dressed unless I have an in-person meeting. Virtual meetings? No one cares what I’m wearing as long as I’m fully clothed. I’m far from the only one who doesn’t shave or wear makeup despite it being a female dominated space. It’s LGBTQ+ friendly and is actually being ahead of the curve on inclusion in many respects (wild for being in a red state).

Sometimes I get paid to eat s’mores and go on scavenger hunts. My hours are flexible. I have almost 400 hours of saved up sick time I can use. My boss is human and accommodating for things like death in the family even though my family now is a found family.

My pay isn’t stellar because my job is “entry level” but it still pays better than most anything else I’m qualified for without a college degree.

And I can afford to sing.

I sing with 2 local choral ensembles regularly. One of them requires me to wear makeup and shave and wear costumes when we perform. One just wants me to wear all black and not smell bad.

I volunteer to sing with fellow alumni of the prestigious children’s choir I grew up with. Their appearance requirements are somewhere in between the other two.

And I love it because it’s for me. I could stop if one group or another ever stopped filling my cup. I don’t have to read sheet music daily or panic over auditions or spend every day working on pieces I hate.

It’s lovely, because I can still love it.

This isn’t to say you can’t love the grind.

One of my choral ensembles had a director (we recently lost her due to a move) who does singing, our specific kind of singing, for a living. She scrapes by financially with making learning tracks and teaching and coaching. Her travel schedule is crazy because the quartet she performs and competes with live all over the country and they perform and teach all over the world. She wears makeup all the time and cute clothes and is comfortable in heels and navigating stages without her glasses.

Unlike my sister, she’s happy doing these things, but it still looks exhausting.

I don’t want to have to live her schedule. I don’t have her energy levels and never have.

I value my peace and I want my music to be for me. Not a pay check. I want to be able to interpret music and put in artistry I like sometimes. But other times I’m perfectly happy just being part of the group that meets once a week.

Figure out if depending on your art to eat would make you hate it. If so, do something else that you like and can afford you the life and art you love.

I see a lot of people who tell young people–especially young people who are heading into college–that they should “do what they love.” And they’re right. You should do what you love.

But there’s a world of difference between doing what you love for you, and doing what you love for a paycheck. 

I went to undergrad for graphic design and 3-D design–art and more art, I usually say–and I loved it. You know what I didn’t love? Trying to collect my fees from clients. Trying to meet unrealistic, over-simplified or over-specific briefs from people who didn’t know what they were talking about. Coming home, having worked creatively all day, with no creative juice left for the things I wanted to do.

You know what I would tell you instead? Do something that you can be interested in, with people you like.

You don’t have to love it. Loving your work can be a lot, and it often means you have to live in your job 24/7. Some people can do that. Not everyone can, or should.  But if you can find work that’s interesting enough that it doesn’t feel tedious, and people you can enjoy spending your 9-5 with, and you can make money, that’s great! It means you can do the things you love for you.

I’m in law school now. It’s interesting work, and difficult, and I like doing it. I like how complicated it gets, and I like the stories it tells. But I don’t come home and read law journals for fun. I come home, and I sculpt, and I draw, and I paint, and I read. I do these things for me.

And I love it. 

[matheoxs]

[THIS IS GONNA BE HARSH

No way you're not assuming things in your favor and expecting your desires please, make it make sense.

I'm going to speak for all bloggers because I know some of them are tired and scared to say it. But don't come to me asking how to manifest, for the love of fucking God, READ READ FUCKING READ.

No way we are going to 2025 and your ass still asking how to manifest this and that.

Assume and let it BE, that's it. What do you want me to tell you? Jump five times and roll or something? There's literally nothing else to do.

Not only that, but those anonymous asking if the Law of assumption is real? Like, until this day, bro, get a fucking grip. Jesus Christ.

You're going post by post trying to find something that will click for you and not even applying it. You're wasting your time. I'm not saying you can't read posts or whatever, but if you're not applying it, then you're wasting your time.

It's annoying, yes it is. When are you going to decide enough is enough? Because me and other bloggers can make posts every single day, but at the end of the day, it's you. It's literally you. It's your choice.

Enough is enough.

we are literally going to 2025, enough is enough. Stop with the bullshit. You know why you don't have your desires right now, you know it, and I don't have to tell you.

Someone can spread a rumor about somebody without proof, and you will believe it.

There have been many times in your life where you assume things without proof. Yes, there have, and you probably don't even remember, and it manifested itself in the 3D.

Why are you waiting for the blogger to come back? Are they your God? Stop the glaze, please. It's getting too far to the point where you see those bloggers bigger than you.

They manifested a big house, so can you?? They're not special, I promise you.

They manifested appearance change, so can you. They manifested being able to shift every time they want, so can you.

You can talk to those bloggers in real life, and you will realize they're just regular people. They're not that special, I'm not that special.

It's really not that serious.

Because of the likes they get on their posts, it makes you think that they're bigger. They're just numbers. Knock it out.

Now, let me get real with y'all. There's no such thing as unrealistic or big desires. You're the one labeling it as unrealistic or big desires.

Do you really think that the 3D says something like, "oh no, I can't reflect that, it's too unrealistic and big"?

Do you really think that the 3D looks at your desires and says that? Think about it for a sec. Now, YOU tell me, do you really think that the 3D thinks that?

Or is it just you labeling them as big and unrealistic? You see how you're always the one who assumes things???

I KNOW, SURPRISINGLY RIGHT? Well, it shouldn't be a surprise to you. You should already know that.

I don’t want ANY ANON coming in my asks asking me dumb ass fucking questions when you can just get your ass to read and try to actually understand

It’s actually really easy to understand if I’m being fr

There’s many bloggers who literally breaks it down in the most EASIEST WAY to understand

So stop with the excuses.

Stop trying to look for motivation especially shifters Omds

Im gonna write another post on this im not done yet call me mean wtv idc it had to be said loa bloggers ARE TIREDD

And I also think that’s why the loa community is kinda dying.

[eroscomet]

Cellmate Prisoner 516

┗━━━✦❘༻♡༺❘✦━━━┛

Pairing: Vi x Prisoner!Reader

Warnings: Mentions wounds and violence (I think that's all.)

Word count: 2.1k+

A/N: Hey, lovelies! So, recently I finished Arcane and I immediately got to writing after finishing it. I'm thinking of releasing a Cait fic as well but i'll see how this Vi fic does first. I hope you guys like this, and i'm not sure if anyone else has done this idea yet. Let me know if you guys would want me to continue releasing chapters for this fic! If this is your first time reading my work and enjoy it, there's more on my page! I'm sorry in advance for any probable mistakes.

Proof read.

┗━━━✦❘༻♡༺❘✦━━━┛

┗━━━✦❘༻♡༺❘✦━━━┛

Days in Stillwater seemed to blend for the inmates, especially those who knew they’d never return to normal civilization. The inmates had created a community there in the prison. It was rare to see inmates fight, most who did were newer inmates who didn’t understand that everyone in there had long accepted their fates. They weren’t willing to fight after they’d come to terms with the fact that they were to be bound by the walls of the prison for life along with the others. Why hold a grudge, right?

However, the lack of fights didn’t mean total peace for the inmates at Stillwater. Enforcers were often the ones who'd steal that peace that inmates tried to keep. If anyone were mouthy for even a second, it’s a beating with the enforcers that they’d face for it. Most were driven to stray away from having fights with the enforcers. There's a saying that goes around, you become the uniform you wear, whether it’s a prisoner uniform or an enforcer uniform. 

That always stood, inmates knew their place and enforcers forced theirs. All but one inmate applied to this saying, inmate 516. The livewire, the undoing of the enforcers, the one with all the audacity. If not called inmate 516 by enforcers, most around the prison knew her as ‘Pink’, a name that she gained from the color of her hair. She had resilience, fight, a fire in her that never ceased. No matter how many times enforcers would beat her for her mouthy talk, it never stopped her.

She’d once roamed the prison on the higher levels where land and nature were still visible. Where the air she’d inhale was the same air as everyone else’s. The more she causes a commotion, however, the lower the level she’d be taken. She never stopped her ‘fuss’, so eventually she made it to the lower levels with the inmates who would never see the light of day or breathe fresh air from the outside. 

Constantly being placed in new areas of the prison, different levels, different blocks, different cellmates. Anything to piss enforcers off, she’d always thought ‘If they’re getting a kick out of my misery, I can at least get one as well’. She lived by that in prison. Her previous cellmate had complained so much about having her as a cellmate that enforcers had finally had enough and moved her to another cell.

This happened to be your cell. Tidy, an organized mess, if you will. You didn’t talk much to the other inmates, only when you’d require trading for different materials. You had a knack for the creation of all kinds, sketching, building, and mapping. Pink, however, had a knack for destroying of all kinds, kicking, punching, training for whatever it was that she’d often mutter angrily about.

“Great, now I'm paired with Mute here.” She groaned as enforcers pushed her into the cell before shutting it. People in the prison had created a nickname for you since you’d never bother to tell them, Mute, they called you for your lack of speech. Which was a choice for you, after realizing that if you’d stopped speaking, people would simply assume that you were mute and wouldn’t have to bother with other inmates.

When she was pushed into the cell, you had momentarily looked away from the sketch on the cell desk. Your eyes met hers, anger was all that you could see in the glint of her eyes. She had a lot of rage, for a reason that you did not know.

“Don’t stare at me like that.” She nearly spat as she looked at you. Your expression hadn’t faltered as well as your gaze on the pink-haired girl. 

“Whatever, at least this time I didn’t get paired with someone who can’t shut up.” She threw her pillow onto the empty cell bed before sitting on the edge of it. Your silence with the inmates at times caused a bit of a ruckus, not all were happy with the fact that you wouldn’t respond to their conversations or threats. Sometimes they resulted in a one-sided fight.

You never fought back, you felt no point in doing so as the inmates loved to bring along a friend or two to accompany them to their ‘fights’. They’d say they were teaching you a lesson by beating you up, a lesson you obviously never understood considering the fact that this often reoccurs with other inmates. You could feel her eyes examining your black eye as you returned your gaze to your sketch.

“Why do you let them do that to you?” Her voice seemed a bit softer and inquisitive as she spoke. You had paused for a moment before deciding to shrug and continue to sketch.

“Tch, why did I even bother asking?” Her words seemed more like a statement to herself than a question as she responded to your silent statement of shrugging, “That is exactly why, because you don’t speak. I can see how that makes people get all worked up.”

Her eyes averted from your black eye to the desk, watching your pencil move swiftly, “What’s this?” She asked curiously as she neared your desk, grabbing a gadget, you quickly swiped it out of her hands. She put her hands up in surrender as she saw you defensively hold the gadget to your chest.

“Hey, hey. I meant no harm, I was just asking.” She said with her hands still up. For a moment, you looked down at the gadget against your chest. You extended your hand and allowed Pink to examine the item. She recognized it as the headpiece of her little sister, Powder,’s grenades, the signature colorful drawings on the headpiece.

“Where did you get this?!” She asked, now with a bit of hostility. Your lack of response angered her as you extended your hand as if asking for the item back, and she quickly slapped it angrily. Your eyebrows shot up in surprise, you'd expect it from the other inmates, but Pink? With the way that she is with enforcers, it shouldn’t be surprising but it was. You held your hand with the other as you brought it to your chest, still feeling the stinging sensation.

“What do you know about this?!” She asked, her voice momentarily faltered, barely caught by even your own ears. The way that you seemed clueless to what she was saying, gave her the answer she needed. She scoffed as she tossed the headpiece of a flame chomper to you. You quickly caught it in your hands, safely putting it under your pillow away from Pink. 

“I’d get more out of talking to a wall.” She said with a scoff as she got into bed, shifting onto her side to face the wall.

━━━━✦❘༻♡༺❘✦━━━━

About two weeks passed since Pink had become your new cellmate. At first, she had been holding a grudge with you, giving you the silent treatment in return which you didn’t at all mind. You had always preferred silence. Eventually, she broke and began speaking to you, despite not hearing a word in return.

“I want to apologize for what happened a couple of weeks back..” She said as she continued punching the wall as she so often does, you’d taken note that this was a habit of hers to do every day. You’d gotten used to it quickly, assuming it was another ‘training’ thing of hers. 

“It’s just that I recognized that piece—the drawings. My little sister used to make gadgets and draw on them. Bombs, particularly.” She said as she paused her punching, staring at the wall as she spoke. This made you pause as well, the headpiece of the fire chomper in your hand. Your finger had been lightly caressing the cool metal, looking over your shoulder for a moment as Pink explained further.

“I guess it triggered something in me. I'm not a bad person, " she said as she caught your gaze.

You stood up, padding over to her and gently grabbing her hand. You opened her hand and placed the headpiece on her palm before moving her fingers to close around it. After the action, you sent her a small smile, to which she responded with a surprised look.

“You really don’t have to-” She began to speak before you had moved her hand to her chest. You gave her a nod, to which she finally understood. She nodded in return, understanding that you were giving her the item.

“Thank you..” She said quietly and hesitantly. You nodded once more as you returned to your desk. The two of you were silent for a moment before she put the item into her pocket and began punching the wall again. 

“Her name was Powder.” She said, speaking up after having punched the wall a few times. 

“I don’t know if she’s alive or not but what I do know is that when I get my first shot out of here, I'm going to find her. Or at least the man who took her from me.” Her voice was determined like she had thought about this many times.

“That man..took everything from me. He. Will. Pay.” She said a bit more aggressively now as she landed a harder punch on the wall. You winced at the sound, knowing that if it were you punching the wall like that, it would’ve hurt but Pink seemed to handle it like it was nothing.

━━━━✦❘༻♡༺❘✦━━━━

Time with Pink in your shared cell felt a little less tense than your first meeting with her. She had gotten a bit more comfortable and you knew that from the way that she’d open up a little every once in a while with stories of her past. She talked of her father, whom she seemed very fond of from the way she spoke of him, she talked of her sister Powder a lot, small stories of memories when the two were younger that warmed your heart.

You’d see that she was a lot more cooled down, with fewer fights with the guards as well as reduced ‘training’, she now seems to only punch the wall a couple of days a week. Everything seemed fine until a new inmate arrived, a man who was bald with many tattoos that seemed to run through his entire body. You’d heard the news that Pink had beaten him up with a tray during dinner, breaking his jaw. When returning to your cell, she was smug but also seemed bothered by the situation.

She muttered to herself as she sat on the edge of her cell’s bed, “A week without leaving the cell, that’s what they gave me.” She said as she looked at you, her gaze was hardened. Your jaw is slightly clenched with a bit of worry for the girl.

“No meals, nothing. That prick deserved what was coming to him. He knew it from the look in his eye when he saw me.” She muttered with a scoff.

One of the perks about trading often with the cook at Stillwater meant special treatment. Often the cook gave you a bit of a better meal or something for dessert. For the next three days, you had snuck food back into your cell for Pink to eat.

“How’d you get this brownie anyway?” She asked with her mouth stuffed, you shrugged it off to no surprise.

“Any news on bald guy?” You shook your head in reply to her question. “Good, I hope to hear not a peep out of him after that.”

There it was again, the rage in her eye you had seen when she first came into your cell. She was angry again, more now that this man was in Stillwater. But you couldn’t figure out why.

“He’s a part of Silco’s henchmen. Dirty rat finally got caught.” She said with a scoff as she continued to eat. You hesitantly placed your hand on her shoulder, she looked up at you with surprise. She sighed as she paused, once again allowing her shoulders to no longer be tensed.

“Yeah, I know. He just..ticks me off.” You simply nodded to her words in understanding before gently patting her shoulder. 

“Thanks anyway, for the food or whatever..” She mumbled as she continued to eat, you smiled softly before heading to your desk as you usually do. A bit of silence came over the two of you before she spoke.

“Do you like that they call you Mute here?”

You paused for a moment as you shook your head.

“Then why do you..not talk?”

You seemed to be in thought as you shrugged again.

“I'm not trying to be mean but maybe people would get off your case if you spoke. Can you even speak at all?” To which you nodded to her words, she only took a moment to examine your face which had healed from the black eye she first saw you with.

┗━━━✦❘༻♡༺❘✦━━━┛

A/N: Guys, let me know what you guys think. If you guys want me to make this a series or not, if it is, it might be a little bit of a slow burn, I will include the other characters later on as well. Thank you so much for reading, new readers can check out my works on my page. Everyone is welcome to request stuff as well!

[rivertalesien]

A lot of ideas can co-exist.

There are activists on Tumblr. Some have been "activated" online. They've grown up on Tumblr. Tumblr is a default location for so many to try and urge others to act on their own best interests. There's no better way to use Tumblr than through fandoms.

That means the bad faith operators use them, too.

We've seen radicalizing in fandoms for years. Terfs do it, fascists do it.

One of the ways they have been particularly effective is in shutting down any conversation they don't want people to have. And it has worked. There are outcroppings in every social media sphere where people are: NO POLITICS. NO LGBTQ TALK. NO GENOCIDE TALK. NO BAD STUFF. PERIOD. No one wants to go through the drama of sorting it all out. It's been traumatizing for a lot of people. Cutting everything potentially problematic back is one way of dealing with the problem and making sure nothing toxic starts to take hold again.

There's upsides to that and some downsides: how people have been radicalized says a lot. I know some folks just want to get the revolution started and think banging heads together out here will do it.

So there's folks who have grown up here to reject that, fight against it and try to push others toward "action" without ever really being able to define what that "action" should be. There's folks who don't even realize they're desperation for "action" turns them off the folks who do not want anymore trauma. When you're deep in that mindset, you're not much better than a troll, really, and about as effective.

Yes, mental health/physical trauma is a real and valid reason some folks will not engage with political content of any kind.

Want to be an effective activist?

Online is never where it is at. You are simply not going to move people here. It won't happen. The need for the protective bubble is just too strong. You can use your platform to spread information, activist activities that are happening offline or specific ways people can help themselves and others, which people can then choose to participate in by sharing with their circles. That's it. That's what you can do here. If something goes viral here, it won't be because you pushed it on folks, judged them. Made them feel bad. People have to walk by themselves. They can't be forced along.

If you really need to feel some movement in the world, get involved locally. Join a school board. Library board. Volunteer at food banks, community gardens. Setup a booth at the mall or other community location and learn how to engage with people directly. More people will just walk on by, but once in a while, someone will come up to you and really want to know what's up. It doesn't feel rewarding or cinematically revolutionary, but that's how it's done. You can't start with a massive audience from day one. It's one to one to one to one until there are ten. Until there are twenty. Until there are a hundred.

If you need to go a step further, help a labor union. Join the picket lines. Encourage others to join unions. That's big right now and an effective way forward.

And don't forget that a huge part of what is going on in this world is a lack of compassion. A lack of humanity toward others. Everyone needs it. We need love and gentleness and kindness. If your activism doesn't start there, it won't end there. You may not believe it because you live in your own bubble of Rightness. If you think other people's suffering justifies you being a dick, you're not helping them. Donate to their GFMs. Encourage others to. Kindly. *That* helps.

Online is where we archive. Where we keep track. Where people find solidarity in the things that keep them going. That keep our humanity intact. That's the best of it. The worst is when we stomp around on it and tell others how they should feel and how they should live. That's not activism. That's policing. If there's one thing activism should never involve, it's policing others.

I'm a good twenty-odd years in this game now. I work in my community and my state and I'm telling you: you're not going to change the world online. The movements you have seen that seem to arise and build awareness? Online was incidental. It wasn't what made it happen. Bitching at people for "not caring enough" not sharing enough trauma posts or what not, is not what makes change happen. Nobody knows you. You're a stranger who walked into their house and told them YOU'RE DOING IT ALL WRONG and only added to their own trauma. It's not helping anyone at all.

PS: people talk politics all the time. They just might not be talking about it with you. For a very good reason.

Humble yourself a little. It won't hurt.

We need all of us in this time. Set a better example. Let people come to you. Go out and meet your neighbors. People need connection, not judgement. That's how this works.

I am actually begging some people to just let some spaces exist untouched by real-world issues and horrors.

Like I've lost count of the amount of times peaceful game or fandom servers have been ruined by people stampeding in with political rants, bitching about world issues, demanding internal activism, demanding vent channels so they can whine about their shitty parents, ect.

Like. Respectfully. Not every single space has to be inclusive of and welcoming of outside topics. The real world sucks. We don't needed to be reminded of that absolutely everywhere.

[wordbunch]

a/n: to all my moots and friends, no you didn't see me post this and yes im still your comfort lotr girl!!! to all others, hello & welcome to my newest obsession yes I have been corrupted. ENJOY!!!!

emperor Geta headcanons

warnings: toxic behavior obviously lol, mild nsfw-ish mentions, this man should be taken with caution by all means

this man loves like he was starved and then brought to a feast - he inhales and devours every inch of you, every texture, scent, sound, personality trait, quirk, he will eat you UPPPP in every sense of the word; he wants his senses full of you and he can't ever get enough

he is definitely a very obsessive and possessive person, observant, sharp, witty. also when it comes to prayers and sacrifices, he means business - he dead seriously prayed for a wife who was headstrong, intelligent, passionate and fearless; someone who could match him in every way, whom he could verbally spar with, word for word, but also someone who'd have his back unconditionally as he doesn't really have many people to genuinely rely on. he wanted an equal, and he was also hoping for someone either his age or even a bit older - he was afraid of having a childish partner who wouldn't properly fill in a tremendously important role

he is 110% a switch and it fully depends on what kinda day he'd had and the mood he's in

contrary to many interpretations and rumors, he isn't horny 24/7!!!! like yes he IS insanely attracted to you, but his days can be so impossibly draining and tedious so sometimes he would just rather lie down with you and have you close, than do anything else. also, he doesn't do quickies or anything of the sort; he likes to go all in and take his sweet time with you, or let you have your way with him. he enjoys being dedicated and not distracted in bed with you. all in or nothing for this man. and yes he is vocal.

one thing that makes him feel absolutely AMAZING (and you realized quite quickly thankfully)is when you draw him a bath - yes it must be YOU specifically who does it - and then either give him a shoulder rub or wash his hair, or both. he will become putty in your hands and relax more than he can explain in words. pamperrr him sometimes 🥹😭 he finds it so thoughtful that you do this for him at the end of a taxing day; after all, there is nothing in the world he wouldn't do for you.

speaking of, when Geta notices something is off with you, he won't ask if he can make you happy again somehow, he will ask you to name what you want him to do, and he will do it. you are the only person with that effect on him.

most definitely is turned on by someone who is smart and witty and perceptive. also he has very keen eyes and he can read even your slightest signals, even in a crowded room, especially in a crowded room, and he also appreciates when you can read him without him having to verbalize anything to you

the most Protective Person of all time, God forbid someone looks at you wrong!!!

showers you with gifts

you will LOVE this - he likes when you match in some subtle, or obvious, way, like the same pattern on your robes, the same gems on your jewels, anything that shows off your bond and shows that you belong to him and he belongs to you completely. 🤍

almost weekly he has night terrors and horrible dreams either about his childhood/how they were treated by their father, or about something awful happening to you. you always do your best to comfort him, knowing that you're the only one who can do that and the only one allowed to see him in such a state

so you whisper sweet nothings to him, like promises you would never hurt him in any way and that you will always do your best to protect him and love him

touch starved, touch obsessed, cannot sleep without you in the bed, cannot sleep when you are on a journey somewhere and misses you terribly; can barely wait for you to return and then grip you in his arms and just breathe you in

obsessed with your scent

very often you are his impulse control and you just have the power to center him when he's losing his grip on a situation

he is so used to being in control (or having to be), that he will really spiral when a situation is getting out of hand and he feels not powerful enough to stop or change something. he is really bad at holding it together when shit is going down, and half the time he seems to be two steps away from a breakdown. honestly, sometimes you just have to let him rage, panic, and vent it out in whatever way, and he will come back to himself- and to your embrace-shortly.

he needs your approval and appreciation like air. if you don't think he is doing a good job, if you don't think (and show) he is smart, capable, if he isn't the center of your universe, nothing else matters at all

he will combust if he doesn't have at least a hand on you at all times

sometimes he still can't believe how you love him - people who touch him usually either want something from him, fear him, despise him, or all those - your gentle touch is an unfamiliar, yet welcome sensation; he can't get enough.

let's be real he can get anything he wants from you when he looks at you with those gigantic brown eyes, but somehow he seems unaware of that (and you already give him everything anyway)

if big gatherings and constant celebrations aren your thing, he will not let you out of his sight and, as much as you need him there to comfort you, he needs you on his arm to feel happy, safe and fulfilled. you just complete each other. 💛

as much as he enjoys every single loving nickname you give him, especially if you call him 'your' anything - your love, your darling, your heart, your pride and joy - but even more he will melt if you just call him by his name, as one of the very few (if not only) person who utters it with love, softness, adoration...unlike many who spit it out hatefully like poison

Geta feels veryyyy smug and proud of himself when he does an act of service for you, such as giving you a massage or bringing you a drink - look at him, he gets served things left and right, but he remains SO devoted to you only.

well, was that something? leave it to me to humanize the worst (actually historical) person ever and give him some PROPER FLUFF🫠

[shy2-29]

omg I love seeing new creators on tumblr! But hear me out.. do you know how Jake was showing engene a video or smth on his laptop, then an ad came out and it sounded like a girl moaning?? Could you make it seem like it was actually jake and y/n’s intimate moment from last night that Jake recorded and it happened to be saved on his laptop? Tysm also early happy new years 🎉🥳

Uncovering Secrets: Jake’s Weverse Slip-up

pairing: sim jaeyun x reader

wc: 941

synopsis: your boyfriend Jake decides to go live on weverse in one of HYBE’s studio rooms, while you’re sitting off camera, waiting for him to finish. A specific comment comes up, leading Jake to turn on his laptop, revealing an intimate video of you two that he took from last night.

authors note: wow. Okay I’m proud of this one 🤓 also I’m pretty sure you meant this video but if not, I’m so sorry 😢 it took me quite some time to write this but lmk if you have any more suggestions as my requests are currently OPEN 🤗

warning: nsfw, harsh language, jake is an idol, minor degrading, protected sex, mentions of jungwon, not proof read recorded sex. lmk if I missed anything

age: 18+ minors dni.

—

As Jake began his Weverse Live for engenes, the viewer count were already at 900k people. Sitting at a desk, he placed his phone against a laptop, allowing them to see his face, but not his screen.

He scanned through the chat, which was brimming with comments, and a particular one caught his eye—“What song have you been playing non-stop?”

“Non-stop, huh?" Jake grins into the camera, contemplating for a moment before his lips curve into a sly smirk.

“There's this one song I can't seem to get out of my head recently." He looks back at his laptop, clicking on his mouse a couple times before turning back to the camera.

He momentarily diverts his attention to the laptop, his cursor clicking a few times before he refocuses on the camera. "So the song is called 'Overdrive' by Post Malone," he explains, his expression showcasing a cheeky yet playful side.

His gaze subtly flickers in your direction, noticing you scrolling on your phone with your legs crossed, waiting for him to conclude his live. “It came out-like yesterday, and it’s really good so imma play it,” he says. A sound of a mouse being clicked is heard afterwards.

Jake impatiently taps his foot, waiting for the laptop to come back to life. And then, without warning, the sounds of rhythmic slapping and guttural grunts, mixed with high-pitched moans, start echoing through the live feed.

Your heart sinks as you realize what's happening—it’s the video he took of your guy’s intimate session from last night. Frozen in your spot, you glance nervously at the laptop, hoping that his fans won't catch sight of you.

Jake panics as he tries to keep a casual demure, hoping there aren’t too many questions from engenes coming in. He mumbles something under his breath that no one can’t quite make sense of, a look of panic in his eyes.

“This is not it,” he says casually, the sounds of clicking getting faster as his laptop is frozen in place.

“Uh,” Jake says, his mind racing at the sight of the comments flooding in. “Wait,” he mutters. His eyes flicker back and forth between the frozen laptop and the camera. You then decide to take action, stepping behind the camera to end the live.

As the live feed abruptly ends, Jake lets out a sigh of relief, his heart racing. He turns to face you, his eyes wide with panic and embarrassment. “Fuck, fuck, fuck...” he grumbles, running a hand through his black hair, tugging at the strands.

The room fills with the sounds of the video you captured and Jake's labored breathing. You break the silence, your voice cutting through the air. "Jake, what's that video doing on your laptop?" you inquire, your gaze locked on the laptop, the video now showing Jake pounding into you relentlessly, your hair all messed up and ruined as you hear him saying, “yeah? being such a good girl for me huh?”

Jake's face turns beet red as he quickly slams the laptop shut, the sounds of your moans and his grunts immediately silenced. He avoids your gaze, his ears burning with embarrassment. “I-I don't know, it must have autoloaded or something...”

He shifts uncomfortably, his eyes darting around the room, avoiding your accusing gaze. He knows he's caught red-handed, the evidence of his secret recording plain as day on the laptop screen. He swallows hard, his mind racing for an excuse, any excuse.

Finally looking at you, his cheeks still flushed with embarrassment, he admits in a small voice "I... I recorded it because I wanted to watch it again. You were just... I got carried away..." He runs a hand through his hair again, tugging at the ends nervously.

You sigh at his words, slouching back down into the couch. “Okay..” you start off, “well what are you going to do with engenes? the whole video is downloaded onto weverse..”

His expression turns grave, his mind racing with the implications. He pulls out his phone, navigating to Weverse and seeing the numerous screenshots and clips being shared among engenes. He swallows hard, his palms sweating, then letting out a mixture of a sigh and a laugh, running his fingers through his hair in frustration.

"They're either going to assume I'm just really horny or that I forgot to click off porn," he chuckles, attempting to lessen the tension as he stretches his arms behind his back.

His eyes meet yours, a mix of embarrassment and amusement in them* "Or both, probably," he adds with a faint smile, trying to lighten the mood. He stretches his arms behind his back, trying to ease the tension.

Suddenly, the door swings open forcefully, and Jungwon stomps into the room, an urgent tone in his voice.

"Jake, what did you just do?"

—

idssoowosos:dkskwi lwk I’d freak 😭 reblog to show support <3

[mhevarujta]

It's funny how Celeborn is being called boring and his relationship with Galadriel is being hated upon by people who claim that they're all about Galadriel being valued, because this is literally what this dynamic is all about.

In a world where many people treasure gold and jewels, Celeborn's treasure is Galadriel. Yet he never treats her as an object. He never handles her as something fragile to be put aside and to be protected and marveled at. They fight the long defeat together. They find a place to call home. They realize their ambitions and rule their lands together. When the time comes, she follows her path to go West and diminish, thus passing her final test, and he is allowed to linger to the place that has been his second love, knowing that he and Galadriel will meet again. Even so, it still hurts him that he has to let her go despite it being temporary.

There's so much talk about people LOVING the concept of a guy being absolutely in love with and in awe of his wife, but when it actually happens (and Tolkien was admirably ahead of his time in writing such a ship and in making Galadriel the most important of the two, and possibly the most important among his elves as he kept editing) it's not enough.

I also love this one version of Galadriel choosing this specific name, which was given to her by Celeborn, because it was the most beautiful of her names. In Tolkien names have meaning and importance, and many characters gain names that they either do or don't want through the way they are seen by others. There's something so special to me about Galadriel feeling so seen and understood and seeing such beauty in the name that Celeborn gave her, that she chooses this upon all the other names given to her by family and since much earlier. And everyone around her falls in line because on the one hand they probably saw how fitting it was and on the other she has THAT kind of power to those around her. She has the will and strength to shape who she is and how she wants to be perceived.

[grison-in-space]

... Sometimes as a scientist I'm mystified by the Internet, okay. Like, this contention (parental neglect can fuck with sexual response by virtue of fucking with emotional attachment and processing) is actually not particularly Freudian: Freud isn't just "your emotional experiences in deep childhood affect sex," his ideas were specifically rooted in his ideas about unconscious and superconscious drives. That is, he made repeated claims about mechanism that are not substantiated by evidence, which is the bit where he went well off the rails.

In any case, a quick Google Scholar pass for modern, up to date research in the field reveals that OP is perfectly correct that early parental neglect can result in sexual dysfunction and dysregulation, and sexual dysfunction is very much entangled in developmental experiences. There has been relatively little work on orgasm itself because funding agencies are weird and twitchy about the topic, but the general gist of OP's point is fairly well supported behaviorally: kids whose parents openly do not love them generally grow up to be people with some degree of sexual dysfunction.

If y'all would actually like to understand the science here, Becoming Attached by Robert Karen is an excellent overview of the history of attachment theory and how psychologists slowly realized that developmental attachment is really, really important for children. It's not specifically focused on orgasm, but it does discuss in depth exactly how important developmental attachment and security are for psychological connection in humans. Notably, it walks the reader through the work and evidence of psychologists that delved into the importance of early emotional connection and support, including Bowlby, Ainsworth, and I believe a dash of Harlow. Yes, sexual dysfunction after developmental neglect, especially extreme developmental neglect, is a common theme.

Love at Goon Park by Deborah Blum is another good book that walks you through Harlow's early work—you know, the wire mother/towel mother guy?

Come As You Are by Emily Nagoski is an excellent book about all the reasons that orgasm can be difficult for many people; importantly, emotional safety and security are crucial factors that she mentions again and again.

Y'all have got to move beyond Psych 101 when it comes to understanding what is and is not evidence based when we talk about human behavior, okay?

Human psychosexual development is so fucking stupid. Imagine having to explain to a sex partner that the reason you can't cum is because your mom didn't like holding babies.

[lady-pug]

Written Between the Lines

Chapter VII - Fill Me With Love

Summary: After catching sight of you several times being a sweetheart towards different children, Aemond wishes for a babe of his own, to finally take a step further into growing your family, and he is hells bent on doing it tonight.

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Reader

Word count: 3,8k

Warnings: canon-typical incest (uncle-niece); smut, so minors DNI; oral sex (female receiving); p in v sex; fingering; switch!Aemond (in this chapter he is truly dom!Aemond); breeding kink

Notes: Okay, this was kind of rushed, but it is because I’m about to go on a trip until the new year and I didn’t want to end the year without updating this story. So here it! Please let me know what you think!!

Anyway, as always, if you spot any mistakes, please feel free to warn me and I’ll correct it right away, and feedback is always welcome and appreciated. Happy holidays, and I’ll see you all next year! Enjoy!

Next chapter | Previous chapter | Masterlist | Read on AO3

It was driving him mad. Absolutely downright insane. He didn’t know how much more of this he could take.

In all his years living inside the Red Keep in King’s Landing, Aemond had never realized how many children inhabited the castle along with everyone else. Most of the time the children, especially the babes, were kept separated from court, and even when the older ones did attend, they remained quiet because, as his mother had once told him many years ago, ‘children were meant to be seen, not heard’. 

Even then, he didn’t typically interact with most of the kids. Sure, he enjoyed the company of his sister’s children, Jaehaera in particular, but other than that he did not really speak to other people below adolescence. What he didn’t account for was how much you seemed to spend your time with children.

Everywhere he went you seemed to have a child not too far from you; either a babe in your arms, a toddler propped on your hip or a child clinging to your skirts, you seemed to attract every child in the vicinity. When you weren’t helping Rhaenyra with Visenya, cradling her close to your chest, you were teaching Aegon and Viserys how to bond with their dragons. You even started spending time with Helaena’s children; more than once he caught you in her chambers, playing with Jaehaerys or brushing Jaehaera’s hair, or bouncing Maelor in your arms. Sometimes he even saw you interacting with one of the servants’ children, giving them your undivided attention.   

The most unexpected for him, however, was what the sight of you with a child, whoever they were, made him feel. Anytime Aemond would lay eyes on you laughing and making silly faces towards a child, or consoling a crying infant his heart clenched and something in his stomach twisted. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, couldn’t properly give this feeling a name, until the day he caught you bouncing Visenya in your arms, humming under your breath. A lullaby, he recognized, one his own mother used to sing to him many years ago. That’s when it hit him fullforce, the meaning behind the heat pooling low in his stomach. spreading to his chest, crawling up his neck and warming his cheeks. 

He was horny. 

Aemond was honestly taken aback by how turned on the thought of you with a child, more specifically, with his child made him feel. He felt his cock twitch at the image his mind conjured: you, carrying his child in your womb, stomach swollen and heavy. As your hums gave way to words, outright singing to your sister now, the image changed, now another child, a toddler, a mop of white hair atop their head and eyes so much like yours, sprawled at your side on a bench, head on your lap as you read to both them and the child still inside you, book propped on your prominent bump. The strength of the pleasure brought to him by the thought was so great he had to lean against the nearest wall in order not to fall over.

The two of you had been married for over a moon already and his seed had yet to take root, as the ladies in court insisted on reminding you, much to your visible displeasure. It wasn’t for lack of trying though, oh no, but sometimes these types of things take time, as Rheanyra reminded you once. But even her words could not prevent the disappointment that had taken over you once your moonsblood arrived a little over a sennight after the wedding. Aemond had never seen you this disappointed before, not even when your mother had scolded you after finding out you had kicked Aegon years before (even though he very much deserved it), and you had spent the rest of the day in quiet solitude. He had eventually found you sulking in the Keep’s library, thumbing at a book he knew you had already read, having skipped supper.

“Wife.” he had greeted “You were missed at dinner.”  

“I am not hungry.” you pouted, and had you not been thoroughly upset, he would have found it charming.

Sighing, he had taken a seat next to you, gently grabbing one of your hands and pulling it towards his lips. 

“We can try again.” he laid a soft kiss on your knuckles.

“I know. I just-” it was your turn to sigh then “I was just so hopeful.”

“I know. As was I.” his thumb started caressing the back of your hand “But we keep trying. We do not stop trying until I have fucked my seed so far into your womb it has no other choice but to take root.”

You chuckled at his antics, growing flustered at his crass words.

“And besides,” he placed a short yet hungry kiss upon your lips “it is not like the ‘trying’ part is displeasurable for either of us, if my memory serves me right. You were actually quite…” he mockingly paused, pretending to look for the right word “vocal about it last night.”

Although your cheeks were flaming with embarrassment, you had kissed him fiercely in return, not necessarily disagreeing with him. He then proceeded to take you right there in the library, with you bent over the hardwood table, the book you had been previously reading long forgotten. Aemond was sure grandmaester Orwyle had entered the room at some point but he couldn’t bring himself to care a single bit, too distracted by his cock nestled upon the damp warmth of your cunt.  

At the time he hadn’t realized how much the thought of you carrying his child impacted him, but now? It was all he could think about. It was a raw, almost primal need, one which set his blood aflame, like dragon fire. He wanted, no, needed it. At the same time, a softness enveloped him when such thoughts arose in his mind, him caressing your swollen stomach and whispering sweet nothings to your, his, unborn child; sleeping on his back with a tiny babe sprawled on his naked chest, right over his heart, one of his large palms over their back, covering the entirety of their little body and protecting them from the dangers of the world. 

It all came to a head one afternoon, his sparring session with Ser Criston running later than he predicted, causing him to miss lunch with you. So he set out to find you, intent on making up for his mistake, but he couldn’t find you anywhere inside the palace. After inquiring about your whereabouts to some of the servants they pointed him in the direction of the gardens. And the sight that greeted him almost knocked him off his feet.

You were sitting under the weirwood tree, your back against the harsh bark, Helaena slumped against the tree next to you, deep in slumber. Jaehaerys and Jaehaera laid at your side, both with a head laying against each of your thighs, while you cradled baby Maelor with one arm against your chest. Your free hand was interwoven in his niece’s soft locks, caressing her scalp. For a moment he figured all three children, like their mother, were asleep in your lap, and although that seemed to be the case for both his nephews, he soon heard Jaehaera’s soft, tiny voice speak up to you, her eyelids heavy and droopy.

“I ran into Lady Baratheon after tea.” she said “Me and brother were running in the halls and I bumped into her legs.” 

Aemond watched as your lips curled into a smirk, picturing the two children running around and causing mischief, much like the two of you once did in your youth.

“And what did she say?” you questioned.

“She went” and the little girl produced a scoffing sound, almost ridiculous coming from her “and said we should not be running, that we could hurt someone.”

It was your turn to scoff then, as if the notion that two small children could hurt a grown adult was ludicrous. 

“She looked angry and said I should stop behaving like that, that it was too un… unla…”

“Unladylike?” you supplied for her, your smirk no longer present, a gloom look crossing over your features.

“Yes, that!” she giggled, then her expression turned slightly sour “She said it is no wonder I am so q… qu…” 

“Queer?” you gritted out.

“Yes, that I am queer just like my mother.”

Aemond felt his blood boiling in his veins at the jab directed not only at his niece, but also at his sister. It was true that Helaena was different, had always been, but it never ceased to enrage him how the people, and mostly, the women on court would treat her. The younger ones would exclude her from their endeavors at best, and at worst they would pretend to be interested in her and then proceed to whisper foul things about her behind her back. The older ladies would often treat her like a child, infantilizing her and speaking to her in a sickeningly sweet and paused tone that he knew she loathed. It was one of the reasons he was so thankful for the way you treated his sister; unlike his mother, who pretended nothing was different about her, you acknowledged it and embraced Helaena’s differences, the things that make her who she is. He was glad that Helaena found a dear friend in you, not failing to notice that since your arrival at the Keep she had been visibly more relaxed and less lonely.

“Jaehaera.” he had barely noticed that your fingers had stilled their movement in her hair or that your expression had hardened “You know what you should do next time Lady Baratheon, or anyone for that matter, says something like that about you or your mother?” 

“What?”

Your previous smirk returned to your features then, mischief swimming in your eyes.

“You kick them in the shin.” you shook your head “Or better yet, you call for me and I will do it for you, that way you will not get in trouble.”

For a single, brief moment, Aemond could have sworn his heart ceased beating, were it not for the loud ringing in his ears. Warmth spread through his body, starting from his chest and travelling up his neck, to his cheeks heating up the tip of his ears, all the while that same blood boiled in his veins, traveling down and making his cock twitch.

For a fleeting moment he felt lousy for the reaction such a tender moment between you, his wife, and his beloved niece arose in him, but the feeling was brief, for the very next moment he was rushing to your shared chambers, like a man on a mission.

He was hells bent on getting you with child that very day, and the Seven be damned if they didn’t give him what he wanted.

Your afternoon spent with your good sister and her children left you feeling refreshed, regardless of the foul feeling your conversation with Jaehaera elicited in you. If you were being quite honest, some of the women in court irked you, always meddling into other people’s business and treating others, including those of higher stations than them, as if lesser than. Lady Cassandra Baratheon was one of those women, so you didn’t feel a single drop of remorse about the advice you had given to your cousin, now niece.

The only thing about your day that had not been so enjoyable was the fact that your lord husband had skipped lunch. It wasn’t so much that his absence itself bothered you, although you did enjoy spending time in his company, it was just that at times he got so in his head that he often forgot to take care of himself. A few hours into the afternoon you had thought you had caught a glimpse of him in the outskirts of the garden but where you were expecting him to join the lot of you, he had completely vanished by the time you properly glanced his way. 

That was over a half hour ago, where you now strided towards your chambers to clean up for supper.

Or that would have been your plan, had you not been surprised by a warm body practically colliding into you the moment you crossed the threshold, one large hand tangling in your hair and the other snaking around your waist. Lips captured your own in a hungry, messy kiss, teeth clashing and a warm tongue brushing over your bottom lip and into your mouth.

“Ābrazȳrys, finally.” he moaned, pulling back only a fraction, just enough to look at you for a moment before connecting your lips again.

“V-Valzȳrys…” you tried speaking as he pulled you further into the room and pressed you even more against himself, closing the door behind you, but his kiss was relentless, his lips moving to your jaw and down your neck, titling your head to give him better access to your skin. 

It was then that you noticed the state of him: his hair down, a few messy strands out of place, the first few buttons of his doublet undone and something hard was poking your navel. Pulling back a bit, as much as his grip on you would allow, you noticed that his breeches were unlaced and pulled down slightly, his cock out, hard and glistening, which told you he had been tugging at it for at least a while now.

He pulled you back in, mouth latching against your shoulder as he sucked and nibbled on the skin.

“Aem…” it was when you felt his hands moving to your back, clawing at the laces of your dress, that you pulled back and held his cheeks in your hands, forcing him to keep his gaze on you “Aemond, what has gotten into you?”

He sighed then, leaning into your palms, before coming closer and leaning his forehead against yours.

“I am putting a child into your womb tonight, my love.” his warm fanning against your lips, his words making your heart skip a beat “I do not care how long it takes, ot how many times I have to fuck that sweet cunt of yours, my seed is taking root inside you tonight.”

It was your turn to kiss him desperately then, something primal fueling your actions. Something about the way he spoke, about what he spoke of, lit a fire in your stomach that pulsed in your core. He met you in the middle with equal fervor, his tongue tangling with yours as he resumed his task.

He turned you around then, pushing you towards the foot of the bed. His hands were a contrast with the way the rest of his body was moving, gently moving your hair out of the way so he could nibble on the skin of your exposed neck harshly. His other hand softly untangled the laces of your dress, all the while he grinded his exposed cock against your clothed ass.

“What brought this on, if I may ask?” you asked breathlessly, yet still curious about his behavior.

“Seeing you, with them,” he moaned and grinded into you more forcefully at the thought, and you could feel his cock twitch violently against your behind “I want that for us, for you.”

You softened then, a warm and fuzzy feeling taking over your heart. You wanted that too, as you had once told him, you wanted a family of your own, you wanted to share this with him. And it seemed he wanted it just the same. 

You couldn’t dwell on it for too long though, because soon enough your dress was loose enough for him to push it off your shoulders, the fabric pooling around your feet, quickly followed by your underclothes. You went to turn around but a pair of large hands on your waist stopped your movements. 

“Stay.” he whispered against your ear, and you could do nothing but nod.

The sound of heavy fabric rustling behind you let you know that his own clothes were being discarded, which was confirmed when you felt the entire plane of his naked chest pressed against your back, his heavy cock nestled on your ass as he wrapped both arms around your middle.

“Ñuha ābrazȳrys, ñuha dāria.” he spoke against the shell of your ear before nipping at your earlobe “Muña hen ñuha riñar.”

It made your heart clench and heat climb up your spine, a gush of something warm spreading between your thighs. 

His hands moved then, softly caressing your skin as they went before settling, one on your lower back and the other right between your shoulder blades. A light of pressure of his palms caused your knees to bend, hitting the soft mattress, your upper body bending at the waist as you placed your hands on the bed to help support your weight. He knelt behind you, gently rearranging you so you scooted further on up on the bed.

For a moment nothing happened and time seemed to pause around you. Nothing else mattered, nothing else existed besides the two of you in this very moment. 

Then you felt it, his hands holding your thighs as his hot breath tingled against your glistening folds before his tongue made contact with your cunt, licking a broad stripe against your folds. A whimper escaped your lips as his tongue circled your clit, moving back up and circling your entrance in the same manner, dipping only the very tip inside. His movements were slow yet sharp, precise, like he knew your body inside and out.

You whined, him mouthing at the entirety of your cunt, pulling your folds between his lips, before his lips latched onto your clit, sucking gently. Your arms started trembling, forcing you down to your stomach with your forearms flat on the mattress, his grip keeping your ass up. He plunged not one but two fingers inside you, eliciting a sharp cry from you as you tried to move away from him, though again his grip on your thighs wouldn’t let you. He waited a moment for you to adjust, one of his thumbs gently caressing your skin as he whispered sweet nothings in high valyrian, before slowly, very gently starting to move his fingers out of your cunt before pushing in again.

In a few moments he was clawing against your warm walls as if his life depended on it, probing, searching for that spot that made your mind spin and knocked the breath out of your chest. Hot molten pleasure was pooling in your stomach, spreading through your limbs and up your spine when the pads of his fingers brushed against it, sending a twinge of pleasure travelling all through your body. The mounting pressure in your navel kept growing and growing with each pass of his digits, making sweat drip from your brow and heat settle in your cheeks. 

A harsh tug of his lips, sucking harshly on your clit, was what sent you over the edge, the coil snapping and sending waves upon waves of pleasure through you, stealing your breath from your lungs. He barely gave you any time to think, though, the familiar sound of him sucking his fingers clean followed by his cock poking at your entrance. Then you felt two hands settling in each one of your shoulders, pulling you back towards him and onto his cock in one swift thrust, your previous release offering no resistance.

You moaned loudly, your ears ringing as he started pounding into you, his hands moving to your hips. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room as his hips met your ass repeatedly, your own loud whines and his groans and grunts the only other sounds you could make out.

The pleasure was quickly rebuilding, not having fully receded in the first place, but after a few moments he slowed down to a stop, a whine of disappointment ripping from your throat.

“No,” he panted, his own breath stilled “this will not do.”

Your disappointment was short lived however, as he quickly flipped your around, manhandling you on your back and pushing your knees to your chest. He hurriedly thrust inside your cunt again, positioning himself so your legs slotted perfectly over his shoulders and his chest was flush against your own, pushing down on you, before resuming his erratic pace.

It was dizzying, your head was spinning and you could barely catch the words he was speaking against your skin, both his hands cradling the sides of your face as his cock slipped in and out and in and out of you over and over.

“Ñuha dāria, sīr vok,” he groaned, pressing even further into you and, in turn, pressing you even more into the matress “kesā tepagon nyke hen riñar, kessa ao daor?” 

You could only nod, feeling that familiar pressure climbing and coiling ready to burst at any moment. At the same time, an immeasurable wave of love exploded from your heart at the thought, making you clench tightly around him, pulling a hiss from him.

“Tepagon ziry naejot nyke, pār.” his own voice was trembling, one of his hands leaving your face to circle your clit in short sharp circles “G-Give it to me and in turn I will give you however many babes you might want.”

You cried out, the coil of pressure snapping once more and making molten heat, scorching like dragon fire, filling your mind, waves of pleasure radiating from your core to every part of your body, taking over all your senses and enveloping your very being. He was quick to follow, thrusting sloppily into your cunt as his cock twitched violently, shooting ropes of his warm seed, painting your damp walls, his body collapsing over your own.

As you came to your senses you could feel him mouthing gently, almost lazily at the skin around your breast. When he noticed you staring at him he raised his head, his lips meeting your own in a sweet, soft peck.

“Avy jorrāelan, zaldrītsos.” he smiled tiredly, his whole face lighting up beautifully.

“Avy jorrāelan tolī, ñuha zaldrīzes.” you answered in kind.

After a few moments regaining your breath you pushed at his shoulder gently, so he could get off of you, but he wouldn’t budge.

“Where are you going, ābrazȳrys?” he jested, a mocking smirk taking over his features as he thrust his now softening cock shallowly into your cunt “I told you I would get you with child by the end of the night, and I intend on making good on my word.”

By the looks of it, you’d both end up missing supper that evening, as you were in for a long night

High Valyrian translations: - ābrazȳrys - wife - valzȳrys - husband - ñuha ābrazȳrys, ñuha dāria - my wife, my queen - muña hen ñuha riñar - mother of my children - ñuha dāria, sīr vok - my queen, so perfect - kesā tepagon nyke iā lot hen riñar, kessa ao daor? - you will give me a lot of children, will you not? - tepagon ziry naejot nyke, pār - give it to me, then

Tag List:

@callsignwidow

@sleephereicome

@bitchassgoose

@voguiing

@dibutw

@fruityvampslayer

@garden-in-the-rain

@queen-of-elves

@woodlandwrites

[skulkingfoxes]

A post-mortem of "Good Morning, Rose"

A few weeks ago, I posted my addition to the comic anthology GLIMM*R, a short comic called "Good Morning, Rose".

The reaction to it has been so uplifting and exciting. It really seemed to struck a cord with people, which, really, the best thing for me to hear as a creator. I absolutely love writing and making short comics, you can do much with so little, explore such interesting stories. The feedback I've gotten has been very heartwarming! It makes me want to explore short stories even more!

But, first, I want to talk about some of my feelings and about the process of making "Good Morning, Rose". This got a bit long, so you'll have to indulge me a bit. You should also read the comic first before reading this. Don't worry, it's only 8 pages.

Now the preamble is out of the way, lets go back to the beginning.

The idea of "Good Morning, Rose" was a nugget in my brain for a long time! Originally it was actually from the Dreamwalker's point of view, where she was a faceless entity who had a long term relationship with Rose and was trying to figure out how to explain that their relationships only were in Rose's dreams. It was a story about seeing, accepting, and loving each other truly and fully, and the trials and tribulations of getting there. Also a cute girl with an ancient eldrich being is always fun to explore.

A lot of it was too convoluted, emotionally and storywise. It also required to get into what the Dreamwalker actually was, which I ended up really not liking. So, ultimately, the idea didn't work, and I put it down. I ended up going to do my short comic Twigs instead.

When I was invited into the wlw anthology GLIMM*R and was told that the theme was "dreams", I decided to take another stab at the concept. This time, I inverted the pov, it's now Rose's story. And instead of a long term relationship, it was about the powerful first feeling of a perfect (maybe even too perfect?) first date.

One of the hardest thing to write in romance is getting readers to care about the relationship in the first place. To have the readers believe in the character's feeling, to be invested in their romance. This is even harder to do when you only have 8 pages to do it. Focusing it around a first date helped a lot in that case. There I'm not trying to sell that these two character will love each other forever and forever, just the fluttering first butterflies of realizing you're developing feeling for someone. It's why I leave it so open-ended about whether the two of them meet again at the end of the comic, or even if it was real in the first place. It's just not the point of the story.

That's something important about writing short stories, I find. You really have to hone in on an idea, on a thought. Take a simple idea and try to find all of the interesting layers. It's too easy to try to stuff a short story with too many ideas that ultimately go unfulfilled. In fact, the first draft of the comic, at the time called "Dream Date", there was a big problem with this and the pacing.

Here, take a look at the first stab at the roughs:

(BTW, there is something so fun about roughs for me lol. The art is so kinetic and loose, all about just getting the story across)/

As you can see, a lot of the ideas and imagery made to the final version of the comic. But both the initial readers and I agreed that the beginning and end were good, but the middle was messy and slowed things down. You can also see that I got stuck in the same problem I did when I first conceived of the story, it's bogged down trying to understand the Dreamwalker in a way that actually hurts the story. You simply dont have any room for bad pacing a short comic like this. I need to focus more on the character's and their emotions and exploring their actual relationship rather than blandly trying to explain the situation. A friend also suggested that I should hone in on the fluid dream-like aspects of the first couple of pages, especially since it's so fun to explore in the medium of comics. So I got to work gutting it out and trying again with the new, much stronger imo, direction.

Also there were some issues with the page format that needed changes for printing, thus the final spread had to be split up. Which is a shame, but oh well, it still works. I also honed in a lot more on Rose and her insecurities. I ended up putting a lot of myself into Rose. I'm glad readers seems to able to relate to her.

After figuring out the the story and the pacing, I went and, well, made the comic. Once you've done as many comic pages I have at this point, once you figure out a process, the actual drawing is fairly straightforward. Eventually, after thinking, and drawing, and toiling, and revising, and thinking hard about my life choices, I come out of the other end of the tunnel with a comic. One that I ended up really liking. One that other people ended up liking, which is always crazy to me.

I got a lot of interesting reactions to the comic. One demographic thinking it was sweet, wanting more of it (always a flattering thought), and enjoying the romance. Other remarking on the bittersweetness of it all, finding your soulmate in a dream, maybe never to see them again if they were even real in the first place. There were a lot of people remarking how they had a similar dream, one where they met someone they seemed totally and completely convinced that they were real and told the dreamer so, until the dreamer woke up. There was one person who asked if I had met the dreamwalker myself. Alas, my dreams are not this romantic and straightforward.

But all of us can hold hands, nod at each other, united by one universally true statement: big eldritch lady hot.

There's a lot of little bits I can talk about, like how Rose's dress is actively modeled after selkie dresses because I think they're cute, or some other trials and tribulations. But I think I've finished all I have had to say. I hope you enjoyed this and will stick around for my future projects! I definitely want to explore more short stories in the next year, especially as I am illustrating big graphic novels for my day job and don't have the time or energy for huge projects.

Till then, thank you so much! Happy holidays and have a good new year!

[jeonscatalyst]

Whenever I see people scrambling to dismiss the possibility that Jimin and Jungkook might be more than friends by resorting to arguments like “They’re brothers” or “Jimin said Jungkook is like his brother,” I can’t help but feel perplexed.

It’s genuinely baffling to me because, what did you expect Jimin to say? “Jungkook is my lover”? The lack of awareness in such arguments is striking, and honestly a little disheartening especially when it’s clear that many of these people haven’t taken the time to understand even the basics of queer history, the reality of being closeted, or the necessity of concealing relationships to protect oneself and loved ones in the face of societal prejudice.

When people bring up these points, I find myself asking the question “When did Jimin and Jungkook officially come out as a couple?” The answer, of course, is they haven’t. So why would anyone expect them to act in ways that are only possible for people who are openly out? If our (Jikookers) speculations about them are correct, it’s likely they are still closeted and may even be hiding their relationship from close friends and family.

This opinion might be unpopular, especially among jikookers who believe that if Jimin and Jungkook are together, their families would undoubtedly know. But I don’t think it’s that simple. In my experience, coming out isn’t an easy or universal process. It’s deeply personal and often influenced by cultural, familial, and societal factors, particularly in environments where homophobia is pervasive. I’m not going to go into the nitty gritty of why I think their parents and families might not be looped in because for many, unless you’ve lived it, known someone who has, or experienced such societal pressures firsthand, it’s difficult to fully grasp the complexities involved……..So I truly don’t see them letting their parents and families in on things as easy as many people believe it would be.

I think Jimin and Jungkook present themselves to the world as they believe the world sees them: bandmates, friends, and “brothers” from the same town. This aligns with public expectations and offers them a layer of protection. So how else would people expect them to describe their relationship?

Some might argue that they could avoid using terms like “brother,” altogether but let’s be realistic here……it likely doesn’t bother them. They know they’re not actually brothers and probably don’t view each other in that way. What’s more, I doubt they have any desire to let the public into the deeply personal aspects of their lives. While there may be a part of them that wishes to be accepted and loved for who they truly are, they likely understand that this isn’t a viable option right now.

The fear of opening a Pandora’s box of judgment and backlash likely keeps them from revealing anything beyond the surface. If calling each other “brothers” or even something as absurd as “father and son” ensures the safety of their bond, they’ll do whatever it takes to protect themselves and their relationship. That, unfortunately is what closeting sometimes entails so before you rush into my inbox thinking you’ve got a gotcha moment, remember this.

I hope people come to realize that this situation is far more complex than it seems. It’s easy to oversimplify or underestimate the challenges Jimin and Jungkook and other closeted people in homophobic societies might face but it’s crucial to remember that not everyone shares the same privileges or cultural realities. Not every society or culture is as accepting as yours might be. Not everyone has the opportunity to live their truth openly and without fear. You may not understand their choices, and you might not even relate to their struggles, but that doesn’t give you the right to dismiss or minimize them simply because their experiences don’t mirror your own.

Empathy and understanding are essential. Respect the fact that their journey, whatever it may be, is shaped by circumstances most of us can’t begin to imagine.

[genderqueerdykes]

just saw that "you are loved" cuttlefish post on my dash again (idk if you know the one) but it goes through so many identities and just. does not include trans men. pan people, bi people, lesbians, trans women, intersex people, nonbinary people too i think, but not trans men. like maybe I'm taking it the wrong way, maybe I should celebrate that all of these types of people are being celebrated, i especially loved seeing intersex people included, but? the deliberate exclusion just hurts I guess. it would've been so easy to say trans people or just include trans men too.

another thing that makes me feel like I'm just being overly sensitive about it is that I do tend to lean into the nonbinary label sometimes, but it feels very "the only good enby is a femme-lite enby" and I'm. audibly sighing I used to like seeing that post on my dash

i haven't seen the post you're referring to, but i have definitely noticed this with queer positivity posts in general

like people think it's somehow progressive to aggressively leave trans men out of every conversation, ever. like, people have gone too far with profiling people based off their genders to the point where they trick themselves into thinking that trans men are now Cishet Male Oppressors and find excuses and reasons to target, bully, and emotionally abuse us. people literally just think we are undeserving of love and kindness because us disclosing that we're a man suddenly somehow is hurting that person

people are NOWHERE near as aggressive about this with cis gay men. people are not sitting here trying to weed cis gay men out of every space and post as possible. it sends me reeling to realize that people accept cis men more than trans men, even though they love to say how much they hate "all" men. is it really "all" men, or is it just trans men? because it feels very pointed toward a specific group of men that nobody loves to name, but everyone loves to hate.

i know that people who aren't trans men usually can't see the pain this causes us. but so many people just don't care. they assume that we have no feelings because they stereotype men to be emotional brick walls. they think it's okay to leave us out and abuse us because somehow, trans manhood has hurt them. like these people behave like a bus full of trans men showed up at their front door and kicked them to death.

like people really are so threatened by the idea that a "woman" can become a man. why is this an issue?

and good lord that is the ugliest take on nonbinaryhood i've ever seen. "femme-lite". wow. people really just do see nonbinary people as women, huh? nonbinary people aren't cis women jesus fucking christ. masc and butch nonbinary people are still nonbinary and there's nothing wrong with that. jesus christ people are SO scared of diversity. people are SO scared of something they can't relate to.

feminine people and women are not inherently safe to be around. i have been sexually and physically assaulted by multiple women. i have been groped by women. i have had cis women tell me that i'm "basically a woman" because i have a vagina and i'm a trans man. i've had women emotionally and mentally abuse me. women and femmes have stolen things from me. women and femmes are not inherently safe to be around. women and femmes can hurt you.

i'm sorry you're encountering this kind of stuff. people are more proud to talk about who they hate than who they love/like and it's just ugly. they don't care that it's affecting people. but if someone does something to even slightly inconvenience them, like, idk, being a trans man, then suddenly the world grinds to a halt. it's entitled behavior. it's people who want to be in control of the queer community and try to control our narratives.

there are some people who are legitimately a part of the queer community for the wrong reasons. the amount of people who are converting to rad feminism and thinking that the queer community needs to be a Cis Girls Only Club is staggering. people are trying to remove everyone but cis women who are pathologically afraid of an entire gender that hasn't hurt them. this isn't the terf club. stop trying to make this into the terf club.

i hope you're able to feel a bit better soon. people are so fucking shitty and it's time it stops. there's no reason to profile people. that's not what we do here. it's not right to leave people out of our spaces who rightfully belong. ignoring the existence of trans men won't make us go away. we're here and you need to listen to us and care about us because we are your siblings and we have not inherently wronged you by virtue of existing.