#MAKE MEN PATHETIC 2025

[lesbidin]

make din djarin disgustingly in love.

make him strong, stoic and intimidating to everyone else. make him the top bounty hunter in the galaxy, and/or the manda’lor who other nearby politicians fear meeting.

but also make him get a pit of anxiety in his stomach when he’s late for dinner with his partner. make him chase their lips after a peck in the morning and sulk a little when they insist they have to get up now. let him watch them with grogu, so infatuated you can tell even behind the helmet. let him leave important political meanings to help them, no matter how mundane the task is.

[sellenite]

NEED to psycho-sexually analyze James Sunderland so bad…..

[waayoutofline]

When the Cat and the Mouse go for a midnight dance.

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x F!Reader

Tags: Agent Natasha x Criminal // Antihero Reader, violence, blood, murder and death, questionable moral reader, romantic insinuation (but not smut). Basically reader being a little shit and Natasha being tired of it. Fun and violent times :)

Summary —> Natasha has been chasing you, a fugitive and self claimed vigilante, for a while. One night, your paths cross again and you can’t help but to tease her a bit.

Part 1 | Part 2

WORD COUNT: 2025

The sun’s warmth has faded, yielding to dense shadows that engulf the streets. Amid dark corners and treacherous alleys, fear triggers instincts, the sympathetic system heightening defenses and hijacking paranoia. Adrenaline kicks in, heart racing, body preparing for any kind of danger looming around the corners.

And yet, you’ve always found a sense of comfort in it.

“Nah, I’m telling you, man, forget him. I’m not going back; that place is a hellhole.” a slightly drunk voice slurs, echoing against brick walls as rats scurry from dumpsters. A lighter crackles, followed by smoke drifting in the chilled breeze.

”Oh yeah? So, when are you telling him that?” Another scrawny voice asks with amusement. A silence, followed by a dry chuckle. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.” Smoke drifts slightly with the breeze, temperature drooping slightly.

“Shit, it's freezing out here.” One of the two complains.

The darkness the night brings…It allows you to hide. Yourself, your actions. From praying eyes. From the world. Perhaps even God if you are a believer.

“We’ve been safeguarding the warehouse for ages. What’s in there that he cares so much about?” he asks, taking another drag of his cigarette. For his voice, it was easy to guess he has had the nasty habit of smoking for years.

“Who knows. Drugs, guns, people…his usual shit.” His friend answers. “Honestly, I rather not know.”

You take the shot on your hand, leaving it on the trail before shaking your hair messily. A sigh scapes your lips as your hands pull down on your uncomfortably short dress.

“Whatever. I don’t give a damn as long as the money keeps flowing. Maybe he could throw in one of those spare companions of his.” The smile in his tone is evident.

“What? Want his sloppy seconds?”

“Oh fuck off.”

It allows you to either be the prey…or the hunter.

With practiced, seemingly haphazard steps, you maneuver your way toward one of the two men outside, their head turning immediately. “Woah there, sweetheart,” the one who catches you slurs, his hands immediately on your waist. His eyes darkening as he stares at you. “We wouldn’t want a sweet thing like you to hurt herself now, would we?” His breath reeks of bourbon and tobacco, and you resist the urge to roll your eyes at how effortlessly this is playing out.

“Oh, I’m so sorry!” Your voice is sweet, innocent—a trap. “I’m so clumsy.” He laughs, revealing yellowed and crooked teeth.

“That’s alright, glad I was here.” A silly giggle, another stumble.

“Got lost?” His friend asks, currently behind you. “You shouldn’t be. There are dangerous people out here.”

At least he got that part right.

The shorter one of the two steps closer. “I was just looking for something. Think you can help?” you say, looking up with doe eyes. He appears foolish as he stares with a blurry gaze.

A whistle. “Sure thing.” You find yourself almost trapped between the two.

“Great, thanks.” Your voice returns to normal, and in a matter of seconds, you punch the one in front of you in the throat. His dirty, clammy fingers release you in panic to clutch his throat, emitting a pathetic choking sound.

“What the fu-” As his friend reacts, you swiftly turn around and knee him in the groin. He howls and crumples to the floor with a cry.

“You bitch-“ Douchebg A says as he swings, movement sloppy. You easily dodge, making him tip and fall over his buddie, the two grunting. With a sigh, you grab the collar of his jacket and drag him to the vent of the rooftop, slamming him extra hard for good measure.

He is about to strand up, but you punch him on his nose with all your strength, one, two, three times until blood drips all over his gray shirt. As his back drags down the wall behind him, you kick him full force on the face.Between the pain and the alcohol on his system, he remains seated.

Just as Douchebag B gets on all fours, you walk towards him and kick him on the stomach, making him drop to the floor once again. He rolls around, trying to get away but you grab his hair and slam him downwards.

Making sure both of them are now unmoving, your hands catch the dagger strapped on your thigh and the map. Douchebag B is still wheezing, with a concussion probably. Crouching, you shove the map on his face. “Alright. So, about that help. Point to me where the warehouse is.”

He grunts. “Like hell I’ll tell you.” He spits. A sigh escapes your lips.

”It’s never easy with you people, is it?” Flipping your dagger, you stab in the side of his lower thigh, making him yelp. “I’m not asking nicely again. Point it or I’ll take this out and you’ll bleed out in a few minutes.”

He sputters, shaking his head. You dig deeper and he lets out another cry. Dragging it down, blood starts to spurt, skin and muscle ripping. “Fuck okay, okay! Here, i-its here…S-shit.” His shaky hands marks a street, leaving a smear of blood.

You turn to watch Douchebag A. “Now, you are going to say the address. I hope for both your sakes that it matches.” He mutters it. A pause as your eyes scans the map.

You fold it, a satisfied little smile on your face and then you pull the knife out, getting away just in time to avoid a spurt of blood. “Uh, messy.”

His friends curses. You can see how his face gets pale, breaths becoming shallower as a pool of blood starts to surround him. “What the fuc- He told you! W-we told you!”

Wiping the knife with the soon-to-be dead man on the ground, you put it back in place and walk towards him. A pipe on the ground lifts as you step on it and you grab it.You pout mockingly. “Yeah, I guess you did. Don’t worry, I believe you.”

“Y-you sick bit-..:”

A swing. Two. A sickening sound of broken bones and then nothing.

The silence returns once again, only slightly disturbed by your soft humming as you go back on your steps, closing the rooftop door and returning to the dim hallways of the club. As you advance, the thrumming of the loud music beat alongside your racing heart, a mass of drunken bodies not giving a single fuck at the suspicious now maroon spot on your midnight blue dress.

Entering the bathroom, you swiftly change into your standard attire, concealed within a hidden backpack. Black jeans, a wine crop top, and a dark blue denim jacket replace the compromised ensemble. Glancing in the mirror, you prepare to rejoin the dance floor with a specific goal in mind—the bar.

Where a cute, striking bartender is apparently engrossed in serving drinks. You say apparently because you know that in reality, she is too busy searching for you. Opting to spare her the pursuit, you lock eyes, and your heart quickens for an entirely different reason.

Forest green eyes fixate solely on you, creating a euphoria-like sensation despite your sobriety. A subtle smirk materializes under the focused gaze, and with a gentle sway of your hips, you approach her slowly, almost teasingly. On your way, you accidentally get in the way of a woman, who ends up backing away on a body next to her. ”Oh, so sorry!” You call out with an easy smile, still not changing directions.

“What? Not using the “what is such a beautiful lady like yourself doing here out of all places” line?” You tease, sitting on the stool, resting your chin on your right hand. She scoffs.

”Oh please, we both know that the lady is fully aware of what she is doing.” Her voice is deep, a bit raspy. Her words are calculated and you just want for her to lose her composure.

With a playful tone, you note. “Hm, you didn’t deny the “beautiful”. Do you fancy me, Agent Romanoff?”

“Hm, perhaps. If only you weren’t a worldwide fugitive.” Natasha answers back, tone dripping with mockery.

”I’l take that as a yes.” She wipes a glass, your eyes tracking the simple yet effective movements. “So, tell me. How many to the party did you bring today? For your sake, I hope they aren’t rookies.”

Natasha scoffs. “The building is surrounded. If you come willingly now, it all would go more…easy. For both of us.”

A snort. ”Aw, and cut short this cute Tom and Jerry little game we have? Please. We both know you enjoy it just as much as me, Natalia.” Her name comes out in almost a whisper as you get slightly closer. Your words hang in the air, charged with tension. “Don't tell me you don’t reveal on the thrill of the chase.”

She chuckles, the sound rich and low. “You and your flair for the dramatic. But let's not forget the reality of our situation. You are a criminal, and I’m tasked with bringing you in.”

It’s funny, really. The way in which this banter is maybe the only thing that makes adrenaline rush into your veins, well that besides your job of course. Still, you can't help but feel amused by it. “Yeah, sure, because your buddies are going to stop me. Let’s see, then!”

Clapping with your hands happily, you turn around slightly to look at the crowd. “Who will it be? PDA couplet over there?”

Natasha follows your pointing thumb, frowning when she sees the girl you shoved “accidentally”, now passionately making out with a tall, brunette dude. “The ones who guarded the exits which are currently tied up in the janitors closet?…Or perhaps the one who will tell you about my little handywork?”

Just in time, a slight buzzing tingles in the Russian agent’s ear. “Agent Romanoff, we found two gang members on the roof. One is already dead, several blunt trauma, and the other is about to bleed out. I’d say he has a few minutes tops.”

Her veiny hand grips the counter, knuckles turning white. A low whistle escapes you at the sight. “I mean, you could try and stop me yourself. Let me say, I’m not opposed to you putting me in handcuffs.” You tease with a dangerous glint in your eyes, your fingers tracing her left wrist up to her bicep. If she is bothered because of your touch, she doesn’t show it. But you see how her grip relaxes ever so slightly. Hm, interesting. “...or you could go, get the information from that dying bastard before it’s too late and you find yourself being stuck in a dead-end. Again.”

The wheels in her head are practically visible. Her eyes darken, and her jaw tenses. Oh, how you love to see her all worked up, knowing that you are one of the few who can break her cold composure. You mouth a tick-tock and with a hard downing of the bottle on her hand to the counter.

”This isn’t over. I’ll get my hands on you eventually.”

A pout. “Promise?” With a last scowl, she flies off.

Rushing through the stairs, the cold air hits Natasha on the face, her eyes adjusting to the poor light. “How is he?” Her eyes fall on the weapons you used, hand grabbing the now blooded pipe.

“I already cover the wound, but the blood…he's loosing too much. He won't make it to the medbay.” Crouching next to him, Natasha see the sickly pale tone of his face, eyes practically close and hears the shallow, broken breaths. Her eyes inspect the now covered deadly wound and grunts in frustration. “Hey, can you hear me?”

No response. He is dead. Out of frustration, she punches the vent next to him. “Um, ma’am? You should see this.”

A brick wall, right next to the door, with a message written in blood. “When you stop scowling, give me a call dear. Swear I’ll play nice.”

Grunting in frustration, Natasha throws the pipe against the wall, fuming. Looking over the street, she doesn’t see you anywhere. You are gone, even if something tells her you are giggling under the shadows.

[impala124]

Theory of love Episode 1: I hate myself for loving you

Well well well, what do we have here? Could it be my half-baked thoughts on Dear Dakanda, a movie I was supposed to have finished watching 3 days ago, but couldn't get through in a single sitting because I was too busy face-palming myself the whole time, and how it relates to episode 1 of Theory of love? Yes, it is.

The film is about a shy art student, who's in love with his bestfriend but is unwilling to confess because he's scared of losing their friendship.

Third in his review of the film:

I was practically cheering for Khaiyoi. I felt relieved for him.

Even though the film is told from Mhoo's perspective, we know very little about the man himself, other than his unrequited love, which made it really hard for me to root for him. So, Third was definitely projecting onto Mhoo.

As @lurkingshan has already pointed out, Third sees himself in Mhoo and has chosen to out do him in his pining for his bestfriend. It makes me wonder when Third saw Dear Dakanda for the first time, whether it was before meeting Khai or after. He and Khai had a meet-cute which is similar to that of Mhoo and Dakanda, atleast that's how Mhoo views it.

If he had watched the movie prior to meeting Khai, then he was just setting himself up for failure by comparing Khai to Dakanda. Now, if it were the latter, I wonder why he couldn't see himself in Nui rather than Mhoo. Maybe Nui was too honest about her feelings for Third to relate to her. I'm pretty sure that one of the reasons Third likes Khai is because Khai isn't afraid of confrontation, unlike him. Khai goes to the film sceening of a guy his ex chose over him, just to publicly humilate the guy. Third can't even himself to show Khai the concert tickets he bought for them to go together.

Side note about their meet-cute: It's a reference to the characters from My girl, which credits the director of Dear Dakanda as one of its screenwriters. If I'm remembering it right, My girl is also on the list.

@neuroticbookworm made a note about the romanticisation of pining in the movie and I'm pretty sure Third caught that because he was embodying it. As harsh as it might sound, the suffering of both Third and Mhoo is self-inflicted.

At no point were they given any indication that their feelings might be reciprocated and yet, they continue to resent the other person for treating them 'only' as a friend. I understand yearning, I love it, but give me some insight into the character before showing them as a pathetic loser (my favorite genre of men, if I may say so myself).

@bengiyo made an interesting note about the overtly heterosexual bubble Third lives in. This gave me a whiplash because in 2025, I'm kinda used to bls where queerness is the norm. We don't know anything about Third's past experiences and how long he's known that he's attracted to men to make any judgements here, but let me just note that Third is not some wallflower, he's part of a clique that is rather popular. Now that Two saw Third crying in the dark over Khai, maybe he'll find an ally, because Third definitely needs someone in his corner.

Something I'm interested in knowing more about is what Khai brings to his friendship with Third. Third repeatedly says that being friends with Khai is better than nothing, so he can't be a friend that flakes on him constantly, as he did in this episode. Hope you're not that much of a masochist, Third!!

Mini-rant:

Having Dakanda mention that she broke up with her boyfriend in her letter to Mhoo was definitely a choice and I wonder how much of that factored into Mhoo mailing her the postcards in return. Also, Mhoo writing I'm happy that, in the end, the thing that lasts the longest and can't easily be ruined is our friendship and ending the postcard by stating that this will be his last correspondence with her doesn't sit right with me.

Of course, one can outgrow a friendship, but, was Mhoo only friends with Dakanda in the hope that she might wake up one day and see him in a romantic light? That would be rather disingenuous now, wouldn't it?Is a female friend worth having only if she's a potential romantic partner? Is the narrative punishing Dakanda for not recognising Mhoo's quiet pining and replying with Why did you confess now?after he let her know about his feelings for her by having her break up with her boyfriend? This whole sequence reeks of valourization of Mhoo's unrequited love over Dakanda getting herself a boyfriend and Third definitely feels the same way about his pining and Khai's flings. Told y'all, I can't look at het romantic relationships objectively because biases start kicking in.

(OR)

Maybe it's about Mhoo choosing to move forward in his life instead of trying to see what can become of his relationship with Dakanda, now that she's aware of his feelings towards her.

We can't know for sure, but I feel like it's a bit of both.

[wheelsup-sevenup]

whumpuary 2025: day 7!

prompt: unfair fight / insomnia / “no one is coming.”

characters: natasha romanoff (marvel)

warnings: kidnapping, sleep deprivation, violence, (implied) abandonment, referenced human experimentation

Based on the regularity in which they changed the guard, and the snatches of daylight she caught when they opened the door, Natasha estimated that she’d been locked in this makeshift cell, the back room of what she assumed to be an abandoned office building, for around thirty-six hours.

If she was right, that wasn’t good.

She’d been expecting backup within the first six hours. When it didn’t come, she hadn’t worried. 

Clint had promised her that SHIELD didn’t leave their people behind. And for some reason, she’d believed him.

The first twelve hours were a breeze, if not slightly confusing. The men here didn’t seem to want anything from her; they seemed to enter her cell only to ensure that she didn’t leave. Only when she spoke to them, spit insults or derogatory questions, did they strike her, and even then she could tell they were holding back.

The twelve hours after that were worse.

Her ankle had been broken when she was captured, and she was reasonably sure it hadn’t set right. It throbbed consistently, sending low, dull spikes of pain through her entire leg. Swelling pushed against the duct tape that bound each of her limbs to the chair, and her chest ached from the cable wrapped around it. 

After thirty-six hours, Natasha didn’t know what to think.

She was having a little trouble with that, actually. No food for thirty-six hours. She’d refused the water, used every trick in her book to prevent herself from falling asleep. Now, her mind was hazy with pain and fatigue. The only thing she could reliably keep in her mind was that she wanted out, as soon as possible. 

She could do it herself, SHIELD be damned.

Natasha had yet to hear the guard in her cell speak. They had, for the most part, ignored each other, Natasha perfectly happy to be miserable without his input. He didn’t raise an eyebrow when she shifted in the chair, straining at the duct tape at her wrists. She slumped down again, making it seem like the maneuver had been unsuccessful, but in reality, she was hopeful. Thirty-six hours of sweating and constant pressure had loosened the tape considerably, and she was sure it wouldn’t take much to pull her hands out completely. It was the same with the tape at her legs, though twisting her broken ankle out of the bindings would hurt like a bitch.

She needed a distraction.

She needed to get out of here.

It was the only thought she could hold on to.

It was almost an hour of slow progress later that the door creaked open. The man in the cell with her looked up at the figure silhouetted in the doorway with surprise, then left quickly without a word.

Fantastic.

This man had a confidence to him that the others didn’t. The way he carried himself, the way the others deferred to him, made Natasha assume the man was their leader.

The door remained open at his back. Natasha blinked in the sudden flood of daylight as the man pulled up the only other chair in the room and sat facing her.

“Do you know me, Natalia?”

The voice was… vaguely familiar. He spoke with a distinctive French accent, clearly a second language yet one that lingered in his voice all the same. She knew him, but in the haze of her mind, Natasha couldn’t tell where she knew him from.

“It doesn’t matter. I know you.”

Natasha raised an eyebrow at him, waiting for him to get on with it.

“You made a mistake when you defected to SHIELD. They don’t care for you, you know. That much is clear by now.”

“They’re not the KGB,” Natasha retorted. “And neither are you. For a pathetically small weapons dealer, you sure make a lot of noise. It’s embarrassing.”

The insult bounced harmlessly off the man’s cool exterior. If any part of it was true, he didn’t let it show.

“Poor Natalia. No one has really cared for you at all, have they?”

Natasha rolled her eyes, feigning a confidence she wasn’t sure even existed. “When they come for me, you’ll see how much they care. You’ll feel it. Like a shot to the gut.”

Under the cover of her own brash words, she popped her thumb joint out of place. The wave of agony that swept up her arm was grounding, and nothing compared to the relief as one hand slipped free.

The man was talking again, but Natasha wasn’t listening, quietly realigning her thumb bone and easily unfastening the cord that tied her torso to the chair’s backing. With her free hand, she held the cord there.

“…but you’ll see. Poor girl. No one is coming,” he’s saying. “You’re all ours.”

Now she just needed her other hand. She was almost there, when something he was saying caught her attention. 

“…the serum will make you stronger than you’ve ever been.”

Her head snapped up against her will. No one had said anything about a serum.

She didn’t have to consider it, though, because she was free. The door was even still open.

Natasha waited until the man, pacing the room back and forth, was in front of her to surge forward, spinning and slamming the chair into him. The chair shattered, her legs ripping free of the duct tape. Though pain exploded in her leg, she felt a surge of strength as she doubled her legs up beneath her, using her uninjured foot and arm to propel herself from the ground towards the man. He turned around as she flew at him, aiming a solid knee directly to his chest.

Except.

The rush of sensation Natasha expected — the impact of her knee breaking his ribs, the flexing of his ribcage and the crumpling of his body as he hit the floor with a shout of pain — never came.

Somehow, the man absorbed the impact with barely a wince, Natasha stumbling backwards onto her already broken ankle. It buckled underneath her, and she stumbled backwards with an involuntary yelp of pain, collapsing towards the cement floor.

In the moments before she hit the concrete Natasha realized what her sleep-deprived brain had missed. The implants, bulging under the sleeve of his shirt. The yellowed whites of his eyes, the veins that protruded from the backs of his hands, tinted vaguely orange.

As she crumpled against the concrete, the information she’d missed came to her in a sickening rush. This organization was too easy to find, too seemingly simple for SHIELD to focus so much manpower on. They never would have expended so much effort on a sole arms manufacturer.

She remembered his name.

Michael Hopworth. British arms dealer turned French experimental-chemical-weapons junkie. The KGB had dealt with him more than once. Natasha had even met him, listened to him talk about defying even the achievements of Captain America or the Red Guardian.

Cybernetic implants. Enhanced strength. It all fit.

The next kick, delivered to her right shoulder, showed her the true strength the man had been holding back. Her body jerked backwards, the pain of splintering bones rushing through her body immediately. Her arm was useless, and she curled in on herself, the waves of pain setting every nerve ablaze.

Hopworth knelt next to her shaking, panting form, extricating her undamaged arm despite her weak protests. He pulled a syringe from his back pocket, and despite the fear that stabbed through her at the thought of being drugged, helpless, some part of her welcomed the relief that whatever was in the syringe would provide.

“You were probably wondering why we waited so long to do this,” he shrugged, waving the needle back and forth. “See, the serum works best when your immune system isn’t strong enough to fight it off. We planned for around twenty-four hours, but,” he laughed, “no one was rushing us. So we took our time.”

The needle entered the crook of her elbow none too gently. Natasha squeezed her eyes shut, willing this to be over.

“We aren’t giving you up just yet,” he promised, his words beginning to blur around the edges. “You’ll have a place in our organization yet, Natalia.”

tbc :)

also, i lied. this’ll be a three-parter. on the next episode, hopefully clint can find us some answers!

comments on this one in particular would be appreciated, because it looks like i’m gonna be having a stressful night and i’d love a distraction 😎

[justplainlovely]

~~~ Chapter 18 ~~~

Not All Canned Peaches and Marmalade

This chapter is a labor of love… for me and for Coop.

For my 2025, I want more stories of old ass men turning into pathetic puddles for the people they love. Make it happen, moots! In the meantime, I’ll do my best 🤭

The bar at Nelson is a tired little haunt, smelling of old wood, spilled liquor, and the faint metallic tang of blood that never quite leaves a place like this. It’s the kind of joint that’s seen a thousand stories pass through its doors and forgotten most of them by morning. At least this part of the world hasn’t changed. And thanks to the starry-eyed “free folk,” the drinks are flowing freely tonight.

Coop takes a seat at the bar with Lucy, who’s already looking around like she’s stepped into some wild frontier. Her curiosity never ceases to amaze him—always so wide-eyed and eager, even after everything she’s been through. He doesn’t miss the way her gaze lingers on the shadows at the edges of the room, like she can still feel the fire at her back. A patron at the end of the bar raises his glass of moonshine in his direction. Coop rolls his eyes before returning his full attention to the little lady sitting beside him.

“Y’ever have moonshine, sweetheart?” he drawls, signaling the bartender for two glasses.

[noxaeternaetc]

"Living your life to impress other men by hating women is one of the most embarrassing things I can imagine. Looking up to any of these men for how to live your life is even sadder.

I’ve worked hard to keep these kinds of men out of my personal life, to keep them away from me, out of my goddamn sight. Now they are in my face daily, not only influencing the world for the worse but making me nauseous at how uncool and pathetic they are, on top of their other sins. It’s too much, I can’t take it, there needs to be a change."

Rebecca Shaw, I knew one day I’d have to watch powerful men burn the world down – I just didn’t expect them to be such losers, Guardian, January 16, 2025.

[bookwyrminspiration]

omg i was anon and it IS orv how'd you guess!! anyways its so incredibly quilcoded you NEED to read it like. yesterday. its so good

firstly!! you would actually rlly adore kim dokja he's a complete fucking loser. picking him up kicking him around like a soccer ball do you catch my drift. he HATES himself he likes reading trashy novels he's concerningly relatable. also you could ship him with anyone if you tried hard enough or he could definitely be aroace if you squint. choice is yours the world is your oyster. also he canonically has a very funny kink that the novel likes to bring up over and over again. like i said. loser

(tbh i think youd also really be partial to yoo joonghyuk or one of the side characters but. idk thats up to you to decide. when you fucking read it)

secondly! the worldbuilding quil you would go HAM on the worldbuilding there's soooo much to explore with the star stream and constellations vs incarnations and its just SOOO insane. ugh i dont wanna spoil a lot but theres just so many different THINGS and it makes me a little bit feral

THIRDLY found family. thats it thats the post. they are all so unbearably lonely and they all find each other and they LOVE EACH OTHER and contrary to kim dokja's opinion they love him too and its just so fucking. ugh. all of their dynamics. (the kids especially get to me they are SO funny and stupid. siblingcoded as fuck)

also would it help if i tell you that there is quite literally no romance in this book! which is kind of unheard of for power fantasy novels! (ok there is like one side couple but its slow burn af and they take forever to get together and theyre rlly cute anyway but i digress)

there's mpreg. will not elaborate but it seems like youd fuck with it

furthermore!! idk the overarching themes......... story inside a story the inherent and unconditional love of a reader for said story reader vs writer vs protagonist OHHH love letter to stories themselves. actually. fuck man the feelings

its rlly stupid sometimes. actual crack. then it kicks you in the balls and makes you feel emotions you never knew you had before

but yeah pls read it!! i will convince you even more if necessary. you need to get in on this before 2025 at the very least bc there is an anime coming out and you have to be able to say you were here before that to assert dominance. anyways

(also WHEN you read it bc you will. pls livetweet in my inbox i love reactions its a fucking ride)

Not only was I right that it was orv, but I was also correct that it was you, Roshan. Though I didn't write that down, so you'll just have to trust me

I do have some understanding of the story beyond this because an irl of mine was reccing it a couple weeks ago, but from that it's also my understanding that learning anything about the story prior will not help me going in. it simply defies explanation and I just gotta read it

I must say though, you do know the right things to say. I LOVE stories about stories I LOVE meta I LOVE love letters to stories! I LOVE worldbuilding I LOVE found family. i LOVE wet rag guys, sopping on the floor pathetic loser men. and no romance!!! that's not to say any romance is bad, it's just nice to have a break sometimes

"there's mpreg. will not elaborate but it seems like youd fuck with it" can. can I confess something real quick. i deadass almost included mpreg in the "keys to get quil to read something." but then I was like no i shant, even though it's true. and then you said it yourself anyway! because it seems like i'd fuck with it! well i DO and I WILL. mpreg is like an automatic read for me. don't worry about that

OKAY okay i will read. where. where do I read it. i've heard of both a manga and a webcomic...maybe..? which should I go with and where should I find it. I am at your command 🫡

(i will probably liveblog instead of directly in ur inbox but maybe i'll do both)

[galaxymagitech]

Reprieve

Jason Todd Week - Day 6: Scars | Enemy to Caretaker | Red Hood and the Outlaws

Whumpuary 2025 - Day 11: "i didn't ask for this" | Blood | Abandoned

Summary: Jason is struck by a paralytic while fighting off the League of Assassins. When Batman finds him, he expects to be carted off to Arkham. But instead of taking advantage of Hood’s weakened state, Bruce takes Jason back to a safehouse to dress his wounds.

Characters: Jason Todd, Bruce Wayne

Warnings: Blood and stab wounds, gun violence, non-consensual touching (for medical care), non-consensual drug use

You can read it here or on AO3!

It had been a quiet night in Gotham. At the time, Jason had been grateful. Stupid of him, really. He really should’ve known by now that quiet nights are never good.

For the last hour, his gut had been telling him—screaming at him, really—that he was being watched. But that’s all it was—a feeling. And ever since he came back from the dead, Jason has learned not to trust his gut. After all, his gut told him that Batman was safe, that Talia was dangerous, that Bruce would choose him. And yet, Batman slit his throat, and Talia gave him everything, and the Joker is still in Arkham, laughing.

This time, though, it turns out that Jason should have trusted his gut. Because here he is, ankle deep in blood, his aim faltering as he stares at the last remaining assassin. Fucking League politics. Talia should’ve warned him about this shit.

“You’re going to die.” Jason hears the words twice—once in his trembling voice and once in his voice modulator’s flat, mechanical tone. It’s reassuring. The almost-robotic echo of his voice reminds him that he’s wearing his helmet right now, the helmet that protects him and hides his emotions from the world. The helmet that reminds him he’s Red Hood, right now, and not Jason Todd. Because Jason Todd is a pathetic teenager who wants his father back, but the Red Hood is a Crime Lord who has made grown men fall to their knees and beg for their lives.

The assassin doesn’t plead for his life or try to run. He just laughs. And really, that’s worse.

Jason can feel his muscles failing him. The second one of the assassins buried their sword in Jason’s shoulder, he’d recognized the familiar feeling of one of the League’s potent paralytics. And yes, could be worse. The League has poisons that will kill you in seconds. But Jason’s in a known location, about to be helpless. The League will capture him. Really, the assassin is right to laugh.

He’s still going to die, though. If Jason can just manage to pull the trigger.

(The laughter rings in his ears and he hears the Joker too, sees the Joker’s smile on the man, feels the metal against his neck, the dirt under his nails, the fear racing in his heart as the timer ticks down—)

Jason locks his elbow and shoots. His arms jerk at the wrong second, throwing off his aim. The laughter reaches a fever pitch.

Jason’s finger finds the trigger again. If he doesn’t make this shot, he’s a goner. If he makes it, he’s still a goner. But at least then the laughter will stop.

He remembers training with Bruce, the muffs over his ears, the warm hand on his shoulder reassuring him as he aims at the target. And look what Jason is using those lessons for now.

“Look where you’re aiming,” Jason hears Bruce say, just inches from his ear. “That’s it. Focus, Jaylad. Now, when you’re ready, fire.”

Jason’s finger jerks against the trigger. The bullet flies forth, burying itself in the assassin’s brain. As his muscles lock up and begin to burn excruciatingly, Jason and the assassin fall in tandem, splashing the puddle of blood on the warehouse floor.

Something’s moving, in the periphery of Jason’s vision. A dark, looming shadow. It must be a League assassin.

Right?

There’s a sharp prick on Jason’s neck and he groans, immediately feeling his muscles relax. His face falls straight into the blood, and it coats his nose and lips and eyelids. He’s too weak to move—will be for some time. Even with whatever the assassins have administered, Jason is screwed.

Someone lifts him up by the hood of his jacket. A cloth is wiped across Jason’s face, removing the worst of the blood. He coughs, spitting out what he didn’t manage to swallow. He’s going to need medication, when he gets back to his safehouse.

But he’s not getting back to his safehouse. He’s being captured.

“The antidote.”

Jason recognizes that growl. He feels his body begin to shake as his captor hauls him to his feet and catches him by his shoulders. He needs to fight. Take one of his backup guns and shoot. Throw a punch. Use the taser strapped to his thigh. Anything.

But all Jason can do is hang limply from Bruce’s grip and tremble.

Bruce starts walking, half-carrying-half-dragging him. Jason’s mind tries to check out and fade into unconsciousness, but he doesn’t let it. He has to remain alert, has to remain conscious. The antidote will fully kick in, eventually, and when it does, Jason needs to be ready to run.

Bruce doesn’t bring Jason to the Batmobile, or even to the Batbike. Instead, Jason finds himself staring at the backdoor to his nearest safehouse, a tiny apartment above a deli that’s violating about fifty dozen safety codes but has the best dips in Crime Alley. Bruce isn’t supposed to know about this place. It was supposed to be safe.

Jason spends the next few minutes fighting to remain conscious as his breathing spirals out of control. When he’s finally regained his focus, he finds himself lying on the mattress he threw in a corner for when he couldn’t trust himself not to fall out of his bed, blood seeping into the fabric and joining the other dark red stains.

Hands tug at his jacket and Jason pulls back weakly, but it’s no use. The jacket comes off. Jason looks up at the blank eyes of the cowl and shivers.

His shoulder is screaming in pain and he can’t control his body and he’s terrified out of his goddamn mind, but Jason still has his thoughts, even if they’re racing with frantic energy. This is bad. Probably worse than the League. At least with the League, he could contact Talia. She’d probably help him out. Unless she was the one kidnapping him, in which case, he’d do whatever he needed to do and then she’d let him go.

But Bruce? There’s no reasoning with a man who believes you’re a demon that crawled its way from your dead son’s grave.

“Don’t,” Jason says, words slurring as Batman’s gauntlets probe the site of his wound.

Bruce, predictably, doesn’t listen. He presses down in the wrong spot and a scream tears itself out of Jason’s throat. “The armor needs to come off,” Bruce says, his voice detached and clinical. 

“Don’t.” It’s then that Jason realizes he didn’t hear the echo. He doesn’t have his helmet right now, so he isn’t Red Hood. He’s Jason. He’s Jason, and Batman is towering over him, and he can’t move, and the scar on his neck is burning, and he’s scared. “Go—go away. Don’t touch me.”

Bruce doesn’t even bother to respond, just takes a batarang and begins the arduous process of sawing away at the material of Jason’s body armor. Part of Jason is pleased that he’s having a tough time of it—he worked hard to make that material after the confrontation with the Joker. But mostly, he’s just terrified.

“Don’t touch me,” Jason repeats, but it doesn’t do any good.

Of course it doesn’t. Jason’s second life has been a long stream of broken promises from Bruce.

Bruce swore Jason was safe, but his gravestone says otherwise.

Bruce swore he would never hit Jason, but his fists say otherwise.

Bruce swore he would never hurt Jason, but the scar on Jason’s neck says otherwise.

But this promise—

Jason remembers Bruce sitting outside Jason’s room as the twelve-year-old sobbed inside, a desk rammed up against the door. He’d promised to never ever touch Jason without his permission. And Jason knows that Bruce is just trying to patch up his shoulder so he can shove a not-currently-dying crime lord in Arkham instead of one that’s actively bleeding out. But he promised. He promised.

Bruce manages to saw through the armored shirt enough to access the wound. Unfortunately, that means he also catches the distinctive Y-shape of the massive keloid scar that bisects Jason’s chest. And Jason knows that Bruce recognizes it, because he hears the man’s sharp intake of breath—the only sign of emotion that’s come from Batman at all tonight.

Jason stares into the cowl’s blank eyes and dares Bruce to speak. But there is no more sound except Jason’s harsh breaths and the sound of fabric tearing.

And then, Batman retrieves the syringe from his utility belt.

Jason knows what it is. Standard Bat procedure for an operative (because that’s what they are, operatives, or fucking soldiers—not family, and certainly not children) seriously injured and currently in a secure location is to administer a sedative. But Jason knows what will happen. Oh, Batman will fix his shoulder, sure. He’d fix the Joker’s shoulder, if it came down to it. But then, while Jason is unconscious, Batman will haul him to the cave or Arkham. Jason will wake up in a padded room or with his wrists cuffed to the wall of a cell.

And it’s not like Jason can fight right now. It’s not like he’ll be able to stop Batman from dragging him off to wherever he wants him. But while he’s awake, at least there’s a chance, a tiny sliver of hope.

“No,” Jason says, voice frantic. “No, no, no, no, no.”

“It’s just a sedative,” Batman says, face a wall of stone as he tilts Jason’s neck to inject him. Jason tosses his head side to side wildly. Batman grabs Jason’s chin and holds his face away from his left shoulder, and Jason, weakened from the paralytic and subsequent antidote, can’t struggle out of his grasp.

Desperately, he looks into Batman’s blank eyes. “Please.”

“It will help,” Batman says.

Jason tries to shake his head, to no avail. There’s terror coursing through his heart and adrenaline in his veins, but it doesn’t do any good for his uncooperative muscles. “I swear, B. If you stick that in me, I’ll kill you.” He can’t do it. It’s an empty threat. But in this moment, part of Jason means it.

Batman stares at Jason. Jason stares back, heart in his throat. Finally, Bruce nods decisively and replaces the syringe in his belt. Jason leans back, pulse still racing, as Bruce disinfects the wound.

It burns. Of course it burns. But Jason doesn’t dare struggle or protest anymore, not with the threat of the sedative hanging over his head. At least he’s still conscious. At least he can watch as Bruce removes his gauntlets, snaps latex gloves onto his hands, and then begins to sew Jason’s shoulder closed. It hurts so much. But this way, Jason can see everything Bruce is doing. He can make sure.

(He doesn’t know what he’s making sure of, but he knows he has to watch. He can barely move, but he has to watch.)

“Are you injured anywhere else?” Bruce asks, face still like a fucking statue.

Jason shakes his head weakly. He tries to sit himself up, but just falls back down onto the bloody mattress.

Bruce removes the gloves. Jason allows himself to close his eyes. Just for a few seconds. When he opens them, Bruce is holding out a small, white pill. “You swallowed a lot of blood,” Bruce says.

It’s probably the standard Bat Bloodborne Disease Prevention Pill (officially, at least—Dick had called it “Bat PEP” for a while before he mercifully decided it wasn’t funny anymore). It looks like BBDPP, at least. But really, it could be anything. Batman has a vested interest in making sure Jason can’t fight while he’s being transported to wherever his prison will be.

“Jason,” Bruce says. “It’s for your safety.”

Jason shakes his head numbly. Batman could force the pill down his throat, but if this is a trick, Jason is not subjecting himself to it willingly. He glares at the cowl, wishing he could see the look in Bruce’s eyes.

And then Batman does the unthinkable and removes his cowl. Suddenly, it’s Jason and Bruce sitting there, with the small white pill between them.

“Please,” Jason says. He doesn’t even know what he’s pleading for. Please go away. Please don’t make me. Please—

Please stay.

(Not that. Batman staying, when the Red Hood is injured, is dangerous.)

(And yet, right now, he doesn’t have the helmet, so he’s not Red Hood. He’s just Jason. And Jason wants his dad.)

Slowly, Bruce’s hand curls around the pill, and he drops it onto the apartment’s fake wood floor. “Where do you keep your own supply?” Jason blinks at him. “You’re reckless, Jason, but you’re not suicidal. Where?”

“Under the sink,” Jason says quietly. He watches as Bruce walks to the kitchenette and retrieves the bottle from under the sink, keeping his hands in view at all times. Bruce brings the bottle over to Jason, who accepts it with what he’s sure is shock written across his face. Jason tries to twist off the cap, but his fingers won’t cooperate.

Bruce holds out a hand in a silent offer of aid. Watching Bruce’s every movement, Jason passes the bottle over and observes as Bruce unscrews the cap and pours a single pill into Jason’s palm. Jason’s hands should be bloody, but they’re not. Bruce must’ve cleaned that off too. Jason doesn’t remember that part, though, so he must be—he must be more out of it than he thought.

Fuck. Bruce could’ve done pretty much anything while Jason was drifting, and he would have no clue. The fact that Bruce didn’t just automatically administer the sedative is practically a miracle.

With jerky movements, Jason brings the pill to his lips and swallows it. He tries to raise an eyebrow at Bruce as if to ask ‘satisfied?’ but he’s barely able to speak, let alone control his facial muscles that finely. The paralytic’s antidote is designed to promote the recovery of speech first, not eyebrow movement.

Slowly, Bruce begins to saw away at the rest of the shirt to be able to wrap a bandage around Jason’s shoulder. Even though he fought before the wound was sewn, Jason now finds that he just—doesn’t particularly care. His muscles are burning and twitching from the aftereffects of the paralytic, and after the long period of fear and fighting, he’s swiftly crashing. Bruce finishes bandaging the wound with careful hands, and Jason finds himself leaning into the touch ever-so-slightly.

It's dumb. As soon as Bruce is done, he’s going to send Jason to prison. And Jason will break out—if he survives, that is—and go back to killing. And Batman and Red Hood will fight again. And again. And again. And so on, until one of them croaks. Jason’s money’s on Hood.

Red Hood would be snarling like a trapped animal. Red Hood would have pulled one of the many weapons he keeps on him, incapacitated Batman, and run. Red Hood would shove Batman’s hands away from him and spit threats of dismemberment and death.

But Jason leans into the first gentle touch he’s felt since Talia.

He can’t trust Bruce. But in his exhausted state, he almost forgets.

It’s barely noticeable, but Bruce must Jason’s reaction anyway, because then there’s a hand on Jason’s head, carding slowly through his hair. He doesn’t understand. A month ago, Red Hood and Batman had a violent standoff that ended with nasty bruises for them both. A few months before that, a batarang sliced through Jason’s throat like butter.

But here Bruce is, treating him like he’s still Jay. Like he’s still his son.

And he should be on his guard, but he can’t help but drift away.

***

When Jason’s puffy eyes blink open, the first thing he registers is the pain. Splitting pain in his shoulder, accompanied by a deep ache throughout his whole body. He’s not twitching, though, now, and he’s able to carefully maneuver himself into a seated position. The blanket that was resting on him slides off onto the ground.

(The second thing he registers is a shadow outside his window. And then, swiftly, it’s gone.)

Jason’s gaze falls on the helmet to his side, a few feet away from the mattress.

It can’t have been real, right? Batman—Bruce—can’t have been in this safehouse. Because if he had tracked Jason down, he would have arrested him. Jason kills, and Batman cannot stand by and let a killer run loose.

And yet, there are neatly wrapped bandages on Jason’s shoulder and, instead of the remains of his body armor, Jason is wearing a clean tank top that he definitely wouldn’t have had the coordination to put on last night.

A compromise, Jason thinks, as he raises a hand to his face. None of the blood that he fell into last night is there. Bruce couldn’t stay, couldn’t face Jason in the morning and hear Jason’s inevitable proclamations about who he would kill next. If he stayed, he would need to stop Jason.

So he left. But first he bandaged Jason and gave him medication and cleaned off the blood and tucked him in.

It’s something. It’s not enough. The scar on Jason’s neck still aches.

But it’s something. Because Jason knows he needs to switch safehouses before his grace period runs out, knows he needs to contact Talia for a status update on the League, knows he needs to be planning his next move. But for this one moment, Jason closes his eyes and feels a hand carding through his hair.

[candycanedaddy]

✨💋🐾💕~• m30w •~💕🐾💋✨

✨😈~• Make It Fucking Personal •~😈✨

✨🌹💕💋✨🌹💕💋✨🌹���💋

😈Goal: 2,131 Calories Burned😈

💋BMR: 1,131 Calories💋

😤Macro Breakdown: 40% Protein, 30% carbs, 30% fats😤

🔥Goal: 30K steps daily🔥

🔥Let’s throw this fucking party ;3 Don’t let ‘em fuck with you🔥

✨🌹💕💋✨🌹💕💋✨🌹💕✨

✨💋~•Workout/ Journal Entries•~💋✨

✨~•2/1/25•~✨

Rest day, will resume my workouts on Monday ;3 Have to stay safe with it and not over strain the body. But I’m really looking forward to making you eat shit. Shouldn’t have fucked with me, because now you’ll understand why you should fear the version of me that enjoys making you beg & scream for more.

✨~•2/2/25•~✨

It’s Sunday & I’m shitposting in between cleaning the house. This summer is going to be amazing, I’m manifesting this villain arc of mine. Shhh, Homelander is a little bit of inspo.

Now whatever your name is, get ready for the big surprise.

I’m unbothered by being single because I’m not the problem. I’m working on myself & my goals, completely comfortable with walking this path alone and untouched for however many years it takes to find the right person. When you value your mind, your time, and your body— not just anyone will do. I’m extremely selective with who I choose to be in a relationship with/fuck. I wouldn’t even care if it was 10 years or longer, taking one year at a time to process the 8 years that I belonged to him & him alone. It’s actually really pathetic to me & beneath me to allow just anyone to touch me. It’ll be 2 years November 2025 since I’ve been fucked/done anything sexual because it was just with him for the last 8 years. Now that he’s gone, the best way to live is for myself and to be healthy in mind/body/soul.

Fucking insane to think my entire ending of being a teenager, and my entire 20’s were given to two separate men that never loved me in the first place but I stayed because BPD/abandonment issues/daddy issues/mommy issues— and somehow thinking that if they didn’t love me then I must not be worthy of love and I’ll do whatever it takes to make them love me even if that means destroying myself in the process until I don’t know who I am anymore just as long as they don’t leave and continue to have wandering eyes… lusting and cheating on me when they’re bored…

✨🔥💋🔪~• Don’t fall in love with me because I’ll love you so deeply that you’ll resent me for it, then cheat on me just to discard me because I reveal the darkest parts of yourself that you’re incapable of fixing due to your inability to sit alone in the darkness. •~🔪💋🔥✨

✨🔥💋🔪~• They know I won’t leave until they shatter my heart and soul completely. •~🔪💋🔥✨

✨~•2/3/25•~✨

M33p M33p bitch— did steppy.

✨~•2/4/25•~✨

M33p M33p time to become more of a menace. Got my steppy steps in <33

✨~•2/5/25•~✨

Got my steppy steps in <33

✨~•2/6/25•~✨

Got my steppy steps in!

✨~•2/7/25-2/9/25•~✨

Celebrating my birthday weekend, for 3 days because I’m a baller

✨~•2/10/25•~✨

✨~•2/11/25•~✨

✨~•2/12/25•~✨

✨~•2/13/25•~✨

✨~•2/14/25•~✨

✨~•2/15/25•~✨

✨~•2/16/25•~✨

✨~•2/17/25•~✨

✨~•2/18/25•~✨

✨~•2/19/25•~✨

✨~•2/20/25•~✨

✨~•2/21/25•~✨

✨~•2/22/25•~✨

✨~•2/23/25•~✨

✨~•2/24/25•~✨

✨~•2/25/25•~✨

✨~•2/26/25•~✨

✨~•2/27/25•~✨

✨~•2/28/25•~✨

[dhr-ao3]

My Kink is Karma

My Kink is Karma https://ift.tt/EVNvg6l by lilianaglass Four years after the Battle of Hogwarts, Draco lives a sad little life as a Ministry Workerbee. He keeps his head down and stays within the terms of his probation. He does not date, he does not socialize, except with Theo and Pansy, who for some reason are hellbent on making his life a little less pathetic. After horrible, idiotic ‘doesn’t take no for an answer’ McLaggen turns up dead, Draco is the only one that seems to connect the strange something happening to Granger and the murders of every molester, abuser, and sexual creep in the Ministry. To save his own selfish skin, Draco is determined to find out what is going on–and gets trapped in Granger’s sexual web in the process. —- Hermione Granger is possessed by a sex demon and pathetic, virginal Draco tries to stop her from taking revenge on every creep in the Wizarding World. Too bad he falls for the demon in the process. Words: 8001, Chapters: 2/20, Language: English Fandoms: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling Rating: Explicit Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Categories: F/M Characters: Draco Malfoy, Hermione Granger, Pansy Parkinson, Harry Potter, Cormac McLaggen, Ron Weasley, Theodore Nott, Neville Longbottom, Cho Chang, Daphne Greengrass Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy, Theo Nott/Everyone, Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley Additional Tags: Post-War, Ministry of Magic Employee Hermione Granger, Ministry of Magic Employee Draco Malfoy, POV Draco Malfoy, Pathetic draco malfoy, Pining Draco Malfoy, Draco Malfoy Needs a Hug, Bottom Draco Malfoy, Demonic Possession, Succubus Hermione Granger, BAMF Hermione Granger, Draco worships at her altar, Draco Malfoy is not a badass, Draco is just trying to keep his head down and live his life, But why is Hermione Granger suddenly so hot, Revenge, Hermione takes revenge on all shitty men everywhere, Light Dom/sub, Dom Hermione Granger, Sub Draco Malfoy, Blasphemy can be sexy, Orgasm Denial, Orgasm Control, Orgasm Edging, Rope Bondage, Bondage, Power Imbalance, Knifeplay, Blood Play, Teasing, Morally Grey Draco Malfoy, Morally Grey Hermione Granger, But you still root for her, This is therapy if you've ever wanted revenge on a man, Inspired by a Chappell Roan Song via AO3 works tagged 'Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy' https://ift.tt/kl7zS8K January 22, 2025 at 07:56PM

[freyito]

i am having a whole ass mental break i cant believe this is the stupid fucking world im living in all i wanted to do is write my silly little fanfics and go to college but noo no no no i am subhuman. i am subhuman because i was never comfortable with being a girl. a woman. i am subhuman because i am jewish. i am subhuman because not only am i transgender but i like men. i am subhuman because i grew up lower middle class and i only ever lived in a HOUSE. A HOUSE. 2 BEDS 2 BATH. TWO FLOORS. A HOUSE. AT 18. yet i will never ever be able to live in one again after i move out.

i had to listen to the SAME SHIT I HEARD IN SIXTH GRADE. in 2025. TWENTY SEVENTEEN. I WAS TWELVE. 12 YEARS OLD. i had to listen to a kid in my science class preach about trump. now i have to listen to millions of fucking idiots say the stupidest shit because a pig is in office AGAIN. i have to listen to my COUNTRY praise a horrible business man for lying his way to the top. i watch a man built like a raw chicken have a seat in the white house who ISNT EVEN A CITIZEN OF THE UNITED STATES, rather than a woman sit in the oval office. i have to watch old white men who have never even had to buy their wives or daughters pads or tampons choose what happens to my body. i have to watch the TOP exploit the bottom until the day they die.

i was told the world was becoming more accepting. I LIVED IN THAT "MORE ACCEPTING" WORLD FOR FIFTEEN YEARS. and suddenly it all goes to shit. my dad told me that he was better off than his parents, his parents were better off than their parents, and so forth. but my generation never will be.

i wanted to be an artist. i want to be a writer. ai is taking up all creative fields by storm and the top doesn't care because what is talent to them. what is talent to them. ai is eating at our world and draining it dry but who cares? what worth does talent have in the modern world? i damaged my wrists and hands because i wanted to be an artist. despite my horrible relationship with art i kept pushing forward until i developed carpal tunnel. now its uncomfortable to hold things. i cant even get the surgery to fix it because insurance won't cover it and i will NEVER make enough money to pay it out of pocket.

theres more. theres so much more. but i am at my limit. i can only say "hehe if x does y i'll write [character] smut" so many times. maybe i am just screaming into the void. maybe my followers of mutuals will see it. i dont know. i dont care. some of my followers may not be american. maybe all of them are. maybe some or maybe everyone can resonate with it. i have had to listen to this fucking idiot target my identity (and many others) for years. i had to listen to his mob of pigs do the same. i have to listen to them call even DISABLED people "woke". women's rights "woke". human rights 'woke". and i am constantly reminded that this was taught. they were doomed from the start.

im tired. im really tired. i get ideas for fics and i write them and i stop because my hands hurt so damn much and then i cant do anything but just watch videos or nap. because having my hands at any angle aside from flat on my legs or knees or armrests or bed or anywhere hurts. there's not much more i can do, and because of that im reminded of the goddamn state america is in and how it will only get worse. will i take a hiatus? i dont know. ive been clinging pathetically to my comfort characters like a damn dog because there's not much more i can do. i write when i can but its always so little. i have relatively bigger fics in the works if you care, so please be patient. im tired im stressed and im kind of facing the impending doom of my country and perhaps even my livelihood.

[swancherries]

Flowers from work.

I had Campbell chicken noodle soup… 250cals

Rice and shrimp 300cals

Chips 100

Strawberry milk 150

800-1000cals today.

I am still doing the Chloe Ting 2025 Weight Loss Challenge. Did a big poop today lol.

Eating less since breaking up with my bf. If we get back together, I’ll be prettier for him. If not… well I’ll be prettier for the next guy. Maybe it is pretty pathetic to be pretty for men. I just want to fall in love. I want someone to hold me. I miss my boyfriend. I messed up. I hope we get back together or I find someone new soon. I hate being alone. I’ve always been alone.

However, I do not stay just because I’m lonely. At least I don’t stay for too long. I think I know my limits. I will take things slowly again for my next relationship. Learn to fall in love with someone but not be attached. Or at least unhealthy attached. At least we were together for 2 months before I acted crazy. With my other ex I was crazy like day 2. And crazy everyday. But this next guy… I need to be more normal but still be myself.

I know what I want a little more. I love a sweet guy. Oh man I love a sweet guy. I felt like I wasn’t weird being affectionate with him. I love when he’s nice. He made me feel safe. I felt so safe with him. And that made me feel scared. I felt too safe with him. Like I was letting my guard down and trusting him with my heart with my vulnerability. Scared he’d leave me or stop wanting me. At least I didn’t give him too much.

But I needed more passion. And maybe this is a lil NSFW but I NEED HEAD. I can’t be with a guy who doesn’t give head. He said “sometimes” but he never offered! But did still make me feel good. But it wasn’t enough for me. I would’ve still liked to be his friend. I liked sharing meals with him and having a drink and cigarette with him. Watching movies with him. I’m stupid. Anyway. Need to be under 143lbs this Saturday.

[runnersnz]

"I run for two reasons - community, and to prove myself. 

I love getting outside and doing things; I'm terrible at sitting still unless I'm exhausted. I was keen to find a group of similar people to regularly connect with but didn't have the ability to consistently commit to big full weekend trips. That was when I found parkrun. 

The first time I went I remember thinking 'there has got to be easier ways to make friends' while I was dragging myself up the stairs of despair, but the connections and friendships I have made, along with the constant encouragement everyone gives each other makes it a worthwhile slog. I've found such a welcoming community of incredible people out doing awesome things and it's brilliant.  

I had tried running on and off since I was a teenager but a combination of type 1 diabetes and asthma made it feel really hard. What made it more difficult was the reality that if I was alone running and had a bad hypo (low blood sugar) there is no one to help you if you're out alone, you're a bit stuck and to me, that made it scary. Running with type 1 diabetes is a bit of a balancing act of carb intake vs energy output, and calculating medication, in combination with predicted metabolism. I've worked in medical research and education for diabetes, so I have a solid understanding of how to work things, but I just seemed to struggle getting it right for myself. 

Over the years I looked for help and I always got met with the same response 'it sounds like this isn't the sport for you' or from an athletics coach's 'you should take up chess'. I felt like I was just being told that my body was too broken, not working correctly, and weak. Running was something anyone could do, except me.

In my first year of Uni I was assaulted. As a woman, that experience changes the way you view yourself and your body. I went from feeling strong and sure of my strength and ability when I did shot put at high school, to feeling weak and pathetic. I saw some stats on an IG reel once, they could be made up but they said that 'only 6% of the world population is running, if you can run 5km then you are in the top 10%, that the average time for women to run 5km is 36:24, and the average for men is 31:18'. You've got to be strong to join that club, mentally and physically.

I am a teacher and I am always telling my students they have to try things, I will always help them but they have to prove they have tried first. We talk about failing, messing up, anxiety, being scared and not getting the results we want but we also talk about how doing big things and failing or missing the mark, while being anxious or scared is a huge accomplishment and what we can learn from it to improve next time. I wouldn't be a very good example if I didn't follow my own advice, even if my students never find out. So I decided I was going to run. It encompasses all the things I'm scared of; going hypo and no one helping me, not finishing a run because I've gotten my diabetes calculations wrong, not being fast enough because I'm not strong or capable enough. I want to prove to myself and everyone who says I can't or it's too difficult for me, that I can, and I will. 

My running goals for 2025 are to volunteer for a big run, get my parkrun time as close to 30 minutes as I can, and to enter a 10km and finish in under 1 hour 15 minutes. Since I started running I've worked up to running 5km without needing to walk, and taken my parkrun time down by over seven minutes. But more importantly I feel so much better, happier, stronger, fitter, more capable in general and have an incredible community of people to show up with. Even if I don't make any of my goals, I feel so much better in myself, that it doesn't matter."

Hope @hopie_duncs (Dunedin) – Portraits of Runners + their stories @RunnersNZ

[nightowlfury]

asian dramas watched in 2024 data!

since i did smth similar for movies, i figured i might as well look at the stats for the series i watched in 2024 too since i logged them on mdl :)

details + reviews under cut !

interesting stuff... i didnt end up including ongoing series/'currently watching'. i hadn't actually finished a gl in 2024 (have since bc pluto finished on saturday) but i did drop two. one was 23.5 because it ended up boring me and the other was petrichor. im sorry women

the production year one is also interesting. obviously w/ bls they became more popular post-2020. and from what ive seen the ratio of qls to gen series produced has shifted dramatically over the years as well (only like one or two announced for 2025? lol). but it's funny to me that there's a dip in 2024 for me... if i were to make a chart though you'd see that the amount of 2024 series i dropped is way higher lol. i guess i got pickier?

top series ratings + reviews

*disclaimer: my rating system is based on how much i liked or enjoyed the series when i watched it. i don't come at it from a technical/film critic approach (though quality often impacts my enjoyment)

1. Moonlight Chicken (2023) — ★ 9.5

definitely my favorite so far — also one of the first thai bls i watched afaicr. i remember my school president was one of the first, and i liked fourth's acting a lot so when i saw that he was in this i figured i'd give it a try as well (i think it was also here where i discovered the whole cp thing. i was like why are the same actors (fourth + gemini) playing a different couple in a totally different series?? lol).

i wasn't necessarily expecting anything mind-blowing, but it was so much more sincere and impactful than i would've thought. ive since learned this is sort of par for the course for the director (in terms of the sincerity of his works), but this series still stands out the most to me. idk if its the multitude of relationships that take center stage (jim + li-ming, jim + wen, jim + gaipa, li-ming + heart, wen + alan, jim + leng and gaipa + leng even. and even wen + li-ming!) — every single one of them feels so sincere and heartwarming (or heartbreaking) and realistic. idk how to explain it's just so touching. i was especially drawn to li-ming + jim's relationship. fourth really did do a fantastic job in this role.

i also think it's funny looking back bc i like, didn't even give gaipa + alan's actors a second glance on the first watch lol. random men that would later sucker punch me in the gut

the only reason i didn't give this series ten stars is bc of my beef w product placement. lmao

2. Only Friends (2023) — ★ 9.0

if a show doesn't have product placement there's like a 50% increased chance i'll like it better. that being said i think i mostly just like this show bc it's like. chaotic and hot. i like when characters are messy :)

honestly i think the main reason this is so high on the list is just due to ray (kt's character). smth about him draws me in. maybe i sort of related to him in a way. maybe it's bc he's a bit of a pathetic wet cat. i find his psyche rly interesting... just like how he thinks and the habits he has, most all stemming from his past trauma and mental health problems. like everything he does you can pinpoint the reason for. hes an alcoholic bc his mom was and died in front of him. he keeps drinking because he feels worthless because she always hated him, his dad never showed affection. for that same reason he thinks that buying people things is his only way to show affection, doesn't realize the problems with that. idk ive already spent so much time thinking about him i just like him a lot (doesnt hurt that he's played by kt)

otherwise... i do find the other characters + relationships rly interesting as well (just not as much as ray). on first watch boston pissed me off so much for obvious reasons (stirring shit for seemingly no reason), but on rewatching he became a lot more interesting to me. possibly bc on rewatching i can focus more on the themes, and boston encapsulates a lot of them. trying to understand his motivations leads to a lot more sympathy on my part — and i think he didn't deserve what he got, since the underlying reason most of the characters seemed to dissaprove of him is due to his non-monagamy. like, he did shitty things, but it really isn't fair that mew forgave top but not him. i know that's not how life works a lot of them time and there's reasons mew acted that way he did, but doesn't mean i like them 🙄 anyway i could get into all that more (already have rly) but this isn't the time

gave it 9 stars cuz i just enjoyed it a lot. themes and narratives and men fucking each other etc. but i didn't find the ending super satisfying (which is arguably the point but doesn't make me rly like it)

3. A Tale of 1000 Stars (2021) — ★ 9.0

(ok im just now realizing on mdl it doesn't say "a thousand" just "thousand" which i assume could maybe mean "one thousand". ive been calling it atoats this whole time should it just be atots or. atoots. ato1000s? help)

im gonna be honest, going into this series i didn't expect to like it very much. the description sounded a bit odd — like, a guy gets a heart transplant and suddenly decides he needs to live his donor's life or smth? and the gender of it all made me squint. from that description i was concerned it was going to be a thing where like, he's suddenly attracted to men because he got a straight woman's heart or smth lmao (which. i guess wasn't technically disproven now that i think about it but it's not spoken of like that at all)

but it was rly good! rly sweet and cute without being too cutesy (my current gripe with a lot of shows recently aired...). it's another series from the same director as mlc which i think is why it turned out so well. i think the focus on the community is rly important and heartwarming/satisfying to see. im noticing that most of my favorite bls are actually like this (the show focuses on more than just the main couple's romantic relationship, including familial or community or platonic relationships and their themes as well).

it also wasn't quite as fantastical as it was made out to be. i mean it was a little, like seeing torfun/the heart donor in his dreams or wtv was silly, but it wasn't like... ~ooooh magic heart~

i like the messages as well, not just the community stuff but tian's personal growth as well. gives me a little hope for myself and others yk...

anyway 9 stars bc i liked it a lot, but again product placement was pretty annoying and there were a few bits that felt a little too staged or silly for me

4. The Eclipse (2022) ★ 8.5

i dont really have many excuses for this one. it's like arguably not very high quality and there's a lot of moments that feel pretty silly/staged. However i still liked it a lot. sort of became a bit of a comfort show, it's just kind of cathartic and i really like the relationship/dynamic btwn akk + aye. codependency my beloved. the plot might be more standard and there's a lot of tropes, but it does interest me a lot, and i like the themes and growth the characters experience.

akk's role is fascinating to me... i like characters that are under pressure and do horrible things as a result. i liked his struggles with this, and the guilt and consequences he had to come to terms with. i think the arc of his character growth was realistic and satisfying, i.e. he didn't suddenly become cured of all his problems and it took the whole series for him to learn to voice his feelings. plus first did a wonderful job sobbing and crying in this role 👍 i am number 1 men crying fan

aye as a character is Slightly less intriguing to me compared to akk, but i still like him a lot. at the beginning of the series he's consumed by vitriol and his desire to find justice for his uncle, messes with akk in response to being scolded, is generally uncaring of everything but the mystery he's trying to unfold. but then akk starts to grow on him and you can see the... idk the care seeping back into his bones. like he'd become this shell whose only purpose was vengeance and suddenly he's not a shell anymore because he's feeling something else besides anger and depressed apathy. okay maybe hes just as intriguing as akk in his own way.

anyway i like how they fit together and the codependency and Feelings they convey just hooked me i guess

8.5 stars for reasons stated — enjoyed it a lot, especially the relationship dynamic, themes, and character growth; no product placement(!) yippee; but from a technical standpoint not as high quality

5. The Warp Effect (2022) ★ 8.5

again also enjoyed this more than i expected to? started watching cuz i heard it had some kink themes but i got rly into the story/mystery as a whole.

i think it had a good balance of humor and sincerity. i think the main actor was also really good in this role, managed to present the character in an endearing way despite him being a bit of an idiot. i also really liked the main relationship (alex + jean), they had a rly good dynamic for that brief moment in hs and then the subsequent fallout was really intriguing, interesting to see the pieces slowly put together.

im not sure really how i feel about the kink representation, in this case it was mainly pet play. it's not my cup of tea personally, so like i don't fully understand it, but i feel like the relationship between the characters involved sort of frustrated me a little. like it didn't seem very healthy and by the end i wasn't necessarily feeling all that much better about it. also didn't love the humorous kazoo music associated w the pet play like it's not... supposed to be funny. idk :/

overall mixed opinion but i liked the plot and the characters enough to give it 8.5 stars. even if the ending was a little weird

in terms of other favorite series, honorary mentions to let free the curse of taekwondo (2024) and not me (2021), those would probably be no. 6 and 7

least favorite (completed) series

has to be 2gether (2020). i respect it for its formative role in the thai bl industry and i loved fong obviously (only bitch in that show w a braincell) but overall i just. didn't like it. can't rly pinpoint why, maybe it just felt a little too ridiculous or the plot didn't appeal to me or whatever but i ended up giving it 6.5 stars

technically i gave Blacklist fewer stars (6.0) but it's a bit more complicated than that. i gave it that rating because of the last two episodes — up until then i actually really liked it. but then the fucking, like, plot twist of the teacher being some kind of mentally tortured lesbian preying on high schoolers (who is then like? forgiven by said high schoolers???) was just. bad. hated that, felt stupid and out of nowhere and rife with problems. which is sad bc i liked the series up until then :/

dropped series

i dropped (i.e. watched at least one episode of and then didn't finish) a lot of series as well (12 total, most from 2024 perhaps bc the gaps inbetween currently airing shows gives me more time to lose interest), and i do have opinions about several of those.

The Trainee (2024)

i actually rated this one because i watched 11/12 of the episodes lol, but technically count it as dropped since i didnt finish it. i gave it 5.5 stars. not sure where to start really. i honestly did like it well enough up until the last few episodes — i liked the main character + couple at first, i liked the setting/film production company setting. but then the main couple started feeling kind of dry, and i didn't rly like the way the creators handled their relationship after jane found out ryan liked him. just felt sort of needlessly complex and vague, and generally uninteresting.

my main issue was the side couple bamhee and uh. tae? like their whole arc was just. not an arc. they broke up bc they werent working and bamhee liked a woman, and then in the end she decides actually nvm she wants to get back together with her boyfriend? leaving judy high and dry? like what was even the point of all that. felt kind of offensive tbh. rly did not like that and didnt watch the last ep as a result

Tonhon Chonlatee (2020)

like. i wasnt even gonna watch this bc i heard it was bad but i mustve gotten especially bored one day or smth. i think kt was cute in it from what i saw + i liked uhh. miriam. but other than that. i rly did not like tonhon from the start he just irritated me and seemed like a general prick. did not understand why chon liked him and rly wanted him to get over him lol. and he kept doing shit that made me want to yell at chon to stick up for himself. some of the humor made me a little uncomfy as well.

i dropped it after episode 6 bc like. the absolute whiplash i got from tonhon's complete change in opinion was. not good. like it made no sense to me and was way too abrupt a change in personality/thought processes/etc. just like immediately put me off so i stopped watching it lol. oh well!

Summer Night (2024)

not too much to say other than the plot started to annoy me, felt sorta insubstantial, and i was starting to kind of hate the main girl's behavior lol. i watched the first 4 eps but dropped it after that. sort of sad bc i rly liked a lot of the cinematography/imagery in the first couple eps

Kidnap (2024)

i got up to episode 6 and i think maybe partway through 7? but i wasnt super invested and some of the character choices + relationship dynamic sort of annoyed me. and then there was that like. scene in the car where they were acting way too exaggeratedly cutesy and i was just like yeah no. not for me. stopped watching in the middle of the scene lol

My Love Mix-Up (2024)

i like fourth as an actor a lot and he did a good job in this as well but i stopped watching after episode 7 (maybe partway into 8?) also because it was getting too cutesy (to clarify when i say cutesy i mean in the sense where a scene's so clearly staged to be cute that it feels ingenuine). honestly i liked the side couple's characters/actors as well but idk. maybe i dropped it also bc i watched the original and really liked it so i was sort of comparing it in my head. idk

23.5 (2024)

i dropped this after episode 6 i think mostly bc it was just starting to bore me. seems to be a trend w most 2024 high school shows. i liked view's character a lot but the others i was sort of nitpicky about. ongsa sort of frustrated me at times and the others just felt a little flat maybe. but overall i just dropped it out of boredom

Hidden Agenda (2023)

story behind this one is i started watching the first episode way back in like. april or may? and then never finished it for wtv reason (i think maybe my friend mentioned the end was unsatisfying or smth). but then w the actors being in thk i was like well maybe i should check them out in something else. and this was within the past few months. so i started watching it and it was pretty cute, but after the main couple realized their feelings or got together or wtv i just lost interest again. i guess this is a trend, like once they get together the story kind of feels like it falls flat in a lot of series. i did like the main actors but not enough to keep me interested

the other series that i dropped i only watched one or two episodes of so dont have as much of an opinion

that's pretty much it! although i feel like i should give a shoutout to The Shipper (2020) as Series that Broke Me the Most. legit hardest i cried all year maybe ever. i had 0 warning

we'll see how things go in 2025! currently im watching 4 airing series (The Heart Killers, Perfect 10 Liners, ThamePo, + Ossan's Love Thailand as of yesterday) but who knows if i'll stick with all of them to the end, esp. given recent trends. the only one im like 95% sure ill stick with thru the end is thk. in 2025 theres a few series im excited for but i suspect my interest in thai qls in general might drop at some point... remains to be seen!

[girl4music]

A message to those with an issue with gender neutral bathrooms as opposed to unisex ones or an issue with non-cisgender people using non-neutral bathrooms.

Public gender neutral bathrooms are just the same kind of bathrooms you share with your entire family at home. You even share the same toilet. Not at the same time, of course. This means that public gender neutral and unisex bathrooms are exactly the same thing. The only difference is transgenders are included. And this is your REAL issue with gender neutral bathrooms!

Let me explain if you don't understand: You actually do not have an issue with a bathroom or a toilet being "gender neutral" at all. You have an issue with perceiving everyone you don't personally know as your enemy. A THREAT. Let me make your issue even clearer for you: The reason why it's just a gender neutral bathroom that bothers you and not also a unisex one is because gender neutral bathrooms include transgender individuals. You have an issue with sharing a bathroom or a toilet with a transgender. But it's not just that. It goes much deeper. You have an issue with transgender individuals being referred to as "gender neutral" along with "men" and "women" referred to as their birth gender. You have an issue with transgender individuals being put in the same bathroom as those you believe are truly "men" and "women". Now you understand. Your issue has nothing to do with the bathroom being "gender neutral". Your issue has ALL to do with you or your family and friends sharing a bathroom with a transgender. Put simply: You are anti-transgender!

Now this is my issue with YOU! I didn't have to explain any of this. You already understood your own issue. Of course you did. You just refuse to understand that transgender individuals are men and women too, and that going into a bathroom that is not unisex makes them at best uncomfortable and at worst puts them in danger. I am including transsexuals, transvestites, genderqueers and non-binaries. You have nothing but hatred and contempt for these people. You liken them to a completely different species from yourselves. You dehumanize them. And since you think this is completely acceptable to do, let's try something, shall we? An experiment of sorts. I'll twist the scenario around. I'll refer to you as a different species. Your species believes it is the superior species. Therefore all other species on this planet should just shove aside and let the almighty supreme species pass through instead of leaving and solving your issue for yourselves. Here's what you do to solve your so-called issue with gender neutral bathrooms. It's so simple. You don't like to use a gender neutral bathroom, right? Then shut up complaining and disturbing the peace and go find a unneutral one. There's plenty of them because they're the norm. They're everywhere. They'll probably be in the same building. Go find one and leave the rest of the world's inhabitants alone! Your species is not the superior one. It's the most spoilt one!

I am so fucking tired of people (cisgender women specifically are rife for doing this shit) claiming radical feminism when they make these arguments about and against anyone who is not cisgender and I hate seeing it. Why not make those claims directly against cis men? Why is it only ever an issue for you when they’re not cis?

You don’t think it’s just as fucking dangerous for trans?

People are different and they have a right to what you have despite their differences. It's 2025. Get over it!

Fucking pathetic gender identity-fragile egotists!