#and I know it’s something that happens to anyone at some point and all that and some people have it way worse than me but fuck does it still

[song-of-stardust]

Hi! I'd like to add something with my own experience of art history.

The first thing we learned in any art history class (and we learned it EVERY ART HISTORY CLASS) is that it kinda matters how you display things!!! Masks must be presented with full costumes to get full context, etc. How you display them matters too, like if you place that mask on a wall, stand, or lay it on a display or even the ground. We can always get into the whole "should it be leaning against a corner or laying on the floor" debate, but that's not the point I'm making here (although I hate the way it is just laying on the floor).

The point is, if you don't include context, the FIRST THING YOU LEARN TO DO IN ANY CLASS, you have failed as a museum or display. You have taken away what makes it "art." Anyone can lay candy on the ground. Not everyone can make a portrait of someone they loved dearly in a way that reflects the time and stigma around them.

Items MUST be presented with context. Without it, the piece is meaningless. Not only is this queer erasure, but it could be said they are claiming The Portrait of Ross isn't art at all. Would that be a stretch? I'd like to hope so. I'd like to chalk this incident up to some idiot director who doesn't fucking know the first damn thing about displaying shit, but IT'S THE SMITHSONIAN. You would THINK they MIGHT know how to display things. Regardless of what happened, IT LOOKS BAD. Not just for the piece, but the museum itself.

As a queer artist, this makes me so mad on so many levels. The incompetence, intentional or not, cannot be excused and I hope someone gets fired for this.

the david zwirner gallery and the felix gonzalez torres foundation in the smithsonian removed the descriptive plaque for portrait of ross in la by felix gonzalez-torres. the old plaque explained portrait for ross' origins as the artist's partner's aids related death, and replaced it with a plaque with absolutely no information about the piece itself, who ross was, or who gonzalez-torres was either. portrait of ross was also reeranged to lay on the floor long ways instead of in a pile as it typically is situated, and the plaque outside the exhibition FOR GONZALEZ-TORRES omits his sexuality, as well as his aids related death. i'm in utter disbelief

[dafterdarling]

just me and you // alexia putellas

alexia putellas x lioness!reader

warnings: mentions of alcohol

summary: you desperately need a date to viv and beth's wedding and alexia happens to be there

word count: 1963

You look down at the white envelope in your hand, your name is written in elegant script on the front with a small smiley face that must have been added after the fact.

You smile back at it.

You don't even have to open it to know that it's for Beth's wedding but you rip it open anyway. It's the typical, we invite you to our wedding kind of stuff but what stumps you is the plus one that is given.

This is where your overthinking begins... If you don't bring anyone, you'll look a little odd but who are you supposed to bring?

The only other person at Barca that is going is Keira and she'll bring Laura.... and Ona is going to be Lucy's date and no one else knows Beth or Viv outside the professional sense.

So your options seem to reduce to no one very quickly.

You groan and throw the invitation on the coffee table before launching yourself on to the sofa, letting out a soft grunt when you hit the pillows.

God, the only way out was to meet someone before the wedding... and you had a couple of months to do so.

You begin with Tinder and promptly delete it after Ana 30 messages you for an autograph. You move on to Hinge and Bumble... you're meet with similar conservations- some ask for tickets, others for signatures. Then there are the occasional weird conversations, someone asking you whether you liked feet like they did or an in depth description of what they would 'do to you' which resulted in an immediate block.

This seemed to be going nowhere so you were about to just accept your fate and decide going alone is the best course of action until a random Tuesday training.

"So you got a date for Beth's yet?" Keira asks as she gives you a little bump with her shoulder whilst you drink your water.

You shrug and then give her a pointed look that explains everything or at least you hope it does because you don't feel like explaining all that.

She shrugs back, "You should just ask Alexia."

You snap your head to her as you spit out the water you'd been drinking- You had told her about your two year long crush on Alexia in confidence and here she was saying it out loud like it was obvious.

"What! No- absolutely not.. no just no." You sputter out, spilling water all over yourself and the grass.

Keira laughs and elbows your side to catch your attention again- you look at where or more like who she points at- It's Alexia, looking beautiful in the team issue training clothes and walking towards you.

You panic slightly, hoping she hadn't overheard your conversation since that would be a mess to sort out and your contract still had a year on it. You really didn't want to have to avoid her for a year.

"Hola." Alexia greets the two of you and bends down to collect her own water.

You mumble back a polite 'Bon dia' and look anywhere but her. Your cheeks are burning and you know you must look as red as a tomato, you pray that she doesn't notice.

Keira, who still stands next to you, elbows you again and whispers, "Just ask her, this is your chance, Y/N."

You shake your head frantically and are about to say something but Alexia beats you to it.

"What are you talking about?" Her accented English reaches your ears and you feel the tips off them heat up.

You are about to make up some excuse or just blatantly lie but Keira tells her the truth.

"We got invited to a teammates wedding and Y/N is trying to find a date but she's got no luck." Keira jokes.

You look at her with sharp eyes and then laugh lightly trying to play off your awkwardness with a smile. Alexia smiles back at you and that makes it a hundred times more difficult not to lose your cool when you notice just how radiant she looks when she smiles.

"I think I'm just gonna go alone for this one."

"What- no.." Alexia thinks for a moment, "It not bad luck to go alone?"

You bite your tongue as you try not to blush at her broken English. She was right, it was probably bad luck to go to a close friends wedding alone but you couldn't ask her... Could you?

"I go with you?"

And this time you snap your head in Alexia's direction, shock written all over your face.

"It will be fun, no?"

You nod trying to hide the growing feeling in your heart as she speaks to herself in Spanish that you don't understand.

The months pass quickly and you almost forget about the wedding altogether with Champions League games piling on top of the league and the cup adding to the stress with you trying to supress your feelings as the cherry on top of the cake.

It all comes to a halt when Alexia asks you what you plan to wear one evening after a match.

"What you wearing?" She askes, leaning against the wall as you zip your coat up, "To the wedding." She clarifies and you swear you can see blush on her cheeks but you play it off as lighting.

Your heart does a little flip when you hear her voice and then immediately sinks when you realise you haven't thought about your clothes yet.

Alexia must notice it too as suddenly her hand is on your bicep, rubbing up and down reassuringly.

"What.." You cough, trying to hide your blush, "What are you wearing?"

You try to steer the conversation away from you and it works for a brief moment.

"A dress.." She chuckles, "Maybe yellow? It will be summer, no?"

You nod, not much matches yellow and you weren't planning on wearing a dress.. no matter how hot it was going to be. Plus, did Alexia even want to match with you? It's not like... you were a couple or something.

Even though... deep down you wished you were.

"You.. wear a suit, no?" Alexia smiles at you kindly.

You snap out of your thoughts and raise your brows in shock but nod along.

"Classic is best."

And you once again find yourself nodding along and then suddenly she leans in to kiss you on the cheek as a goodbye. It makes you blush furiously and sputter out your own goodbye in horrible Spanish.

You keep her words in mind later that evening when buying your clothes, opting for black seeing as Alexia was most likely to approve of that.

But just to make sure, you send her a screenshot to which she responds with a heart, making your own one grow tight for a moment.

The wedding rolls around quicker than you'd expected.

After lifting the Champions League with Barca for the third time, you find yourself in a garden decked out with beautiful flowers and soft music playing as you wait for Viv and Beth to finish their photos after the ceremony.

Alexia returns with your drinks and you thank her as you blush. She looks beautiful, pale yellow dress fitting wonderfully into the wedding and the cut allows the most tasteful eyeful of her.

An eyeful you try not to make apparent.

You can a large gulp hoping it will calm your nerves but all you feel is the alcohol. Suddenly, you can't tell whether it's Alexia or the drink making you feel is light headed.

"You..." You start and then suddenly stop when Alexia looks at you. You blush under her gaze but continue anyway, "You look nice.. I mean beautiful... yeah really pretty.."

You wish you could smack yourself for that one but you're in a public space and Alexia is right next to you.

"Gracias." She says and you swear it's blush on her cheeks too but maybe it's just the low lighting.

She's about to continue but Leah spots you out of the corner of her eye and wanders up to you, greeting you with a tight hug.

"Was it your plan to look like a bumble bee couple or what?" She jokes and laughs.

Your eyes widen and you go to correct her but Alexia is already speaking over you.

"We think it's cute, no?" She wraps an arm around your waist and yours automatically makes it's way to her bare shoulders.

Any thoughts of denying Leah's assumption go flying out the window when Alexia is slotted into your side. Instead you happily chat away until it's time for the first dance.

The rest of the night is a whirlwind- the party is fully going now and it's safe to say that you're buzzed, if not even a little drunk after the amount you've had.

You're leaning against the bar, resting your face against the cold marble when a hand tugs you off your barstool and onto the dancefloor.

You yelp as your being dragged away from the comfort of the bar and are about to protest when you notice it's Alexia. Her hands are on your forearms and she's jumping up and down to the beat, urging you to dance along with her.

You grin, the alcohol mixing with the excitement- making all nervousness you have have had before fade away. It's now that you notice the light layer of sweat on Alexia's skin, it makes her baby hairs stick to her forehead but it makes you fall in love harder and want her that little bit more.

You feel as though your suffocating in your jacket and hot air fills your lungs every time you can a breath but you could careless if it means you get to dance with Alexia.

The same Alexia you'd fallen in love with on your first day at Barca and the same one that was with you now.

The fast dance song fades into a slow romantic one that you briefly recognise from some film and Alexia's hands slide from your arms to your shoulders prompting you to put yours on her waist.

Maybe it's the alcohol or the fact that Alexia's hands are on you again but you blurt out three words that could ruin everything, "I like you."

Alexia freezes in your arms and for a moment you think she's going to run off but instead she leans forwards to rest her head against your shoulder and chuckles into your ear.

"I know, carino,"

You laugh in shock and then she runs a hand down your nape, making you shiver with anticipation.

"I like you too... a lot." Alexia admits whilst the two of you sway gently to the music.

For an instant, it's like there is no one else but her and so you lean back to look at her before putting your lips on hers.

The kiss is as sweet as you expected it to be- you can taste the alcohol on her tongue and you're sure she can taste it on yours but it doesn't matter because she's kissing you back.

Your hands tighten on her waist, trying to keep you both upright as she kisses you back passionately. You hear a whistle in the background that sounds a lot like Lucy's but you ignore it.

Instead, when the kiss breaks apart, you lean your head on her shoulder and find yourself relaxing when she doesn't pull away from you.

You whisper sweetly into her ear, "It was like.. there was just me and you for a moment then.."

You can feel Alexia smile and it makes your heart tighten like it's about to explode. Knowing that she felt it too.

[mickeys-been-staying-at-ians]

So Dean is fucked up after Cas is taken into the Empty obviously, all melancholy, no sleep, drinking too much, you know his gist. Sam probably tries to get him to talk about it, but he would never tell him everything Cas said, you know. So Dean is miserable, and Sam is miserable, but THEY DON'T STOP trying to get Cas back.

And they do, somehow. So Cas appears somewhere in the library or wherever they were Doing What Brought Him Back and there's a second of confused, vulnerable silence because this can't be real don't believe it's real he's gonna disappear and it's gonna suck all over again but he stays, and looks at Dean, and then Dean is hugging him, clutching him like... well, like everything that happened, happened, and they're breathing each other in. Cas hasn't had the chance to think about what it all means, yet, so he's not overthinking it. Then they break apart, and Dean has tears in his eyes and his lower lip is shaking, and while Sam hugs Cas, too, Dean's body is like, shutting down, months of exhaustion (physical and emotional) catching up to him, and he feels it coming, so when Sam gets Cas to sit down, making him drink some water, Dean's like "I'm just gonna-" and he's running into his room and he doesn't even make it inside before he starts sobbing. He's sitting against his bed, his face in his hands, all wet now, when Sam comes in. Maybe he knocked, maybe not, Dean couldn't hear him. And he tries to cover himself a little, but Sam sees anyway, and he's so tired, so he just. Doesn't care.

And Sam says, "Dean, don't hide from him" and Dean isn't sobbing anymore but he's still crying into his palms, saying "I'm so tired, Sammy" and Sam knows. He doesn't know what happened between Dean and Cas but Cas said he did something and now Dean wouldn't feel comfortable around him. So, you know. Sam can guess, a little.

So he says, "He thinks you don't want anything to do with him anymore" and "you should go talk to him" and Dean is like "I can't" and he doesn't know why, maybe because he's exhausted, or because he doesn't know what to say to him , or because Cas sacrifised himself for him again, or because he told him he loved him and turned Dean's world upside down and disappeared, or maybe because he's scared.

And Sam knows this is all happening in Dean's head and he knows some of it is whispered to him in their dad's voice, so he says, "you know nothing in the world would ever change how I think of you," and Dean's head snaps towards him, wet with bloodshot eyes, confused and terrified, but he doesn't say anything, so Sam asks, "what really happened down there?" and Dean knows Sam knows. There's a hand squeezing his heart and lungs and he can't breathe, and Sam knows, and Dean wishes he could go back to when it wasn't even an option.

"He's your best friend," Sam says, and he is, he is, he's Dean's best friend, above all else, it's not just sacrifises and battles and blood and desperate confessions, it's also movies and music and inside jokes, so Dean asks Sam to get Cas. He does, and leaves them in Dean's room alone. And Dean says "don't ever die for me again" and "you think you saved me but i was barely alive" and "next time we die together" which is maybe a little fucked up, but he's feeling so raw. He says, "you're my best friend" and looks at Cas, hoping Cas hears everything he isn't saying, how Cas is the most important person in all the universes to Dean. He's family, but he doesn't say that, doesn't want Cas to think he's family like anyone else, because Cas is more. To Dean, Cas is- something Dean won't say yet, but he is.

And they have a quiet dinner with Sam because they're all tired, and Cas showers while they turn on the TV and bring out a couple of beers, and they act like it's a normal day in their life. Dean's head keeps falling and his eyes keep closing, his temples aching, but he stays, and at some point Sam goes to sleep, and when they're alone Cas tries to get Dean to go, too, but he keeps coming up with lame excuses to stay and Cas doesn't know what to make of it until he thinks maybe Dean doesn't want to be alone, or even - maybe Dean doesn't want to leave Cas alone, maybe he's scared something will happen to him again, or maybe he wants to just - be with Cas longer. And Cas is completely out of his element, because why would Dean- But it doesn't matter. His priority has always been Dean's well-being, so if there's any chance Dean is pushing himself because of - some of that, Cas will step up.

So he asks Dean if he can sleep in Dean's room tonight because he doesn't want to be alone. And there's a blaring red light going off in Dean head, screaming he knows he knows he knows Dean wants him to... what? Dean doesn't even know. Cas is asking as if for himself, for Dean's benefit, and Dean. God. Dean loves him, doesn't he? He's always loved him, but he loves him like... like... but he doesn't think it, still. He feels too open, now, and he wants to lock himself in his room and sleep it off and drink and stop feeling so vulnerable, he thinks he must be an open book to everyone, to Cas especially, and god, could people always tell? Can Cas tell, now? But why does it matter? Cas told him- he told him-

But none of it matters, because Cas is here, and he's offereing Dean an easy way out, and Dean is a weak, weak man, and he's exhausted and all he wants is to breathe Cas' air and know he's here, and not going anywhere.

So Dean puts on an old T-shirt and gets out of his jeans like he always does before realizing Cas is here. He flushes all over, sits down on his bed because he didn't think about how this was gonna go. Cas glances at the desk as if he was gonna sit in his chair the whole night, and Dean doesn't actually know if Cas sleeps now or doesn't, which he maybe should've thought of before, but before he can say anything, Cas says, "Dean, I don't want to make you uncomfortable" and Dean, completely lost, says the first thing that comes to his mind, which is, "can you lie down with me?" which is not exactly how he was gonna tell Cas he's the opposite of uncomfortable with him, but it does the trick. He makes Cas get out of his dress pants and gives him a T-shirt to sleep in, too, and flushes even more when he realizes what Cas is wearing. Dean lies down when Cas steps towards the bed, faces the wall because he doesn't know what to do with himself. They lie in silence for an awkward moment before Cas says, "are we okay?" and Dean says, "of course we are" and Dean knows Cas is still overthinking it, and he is, too, but... Cas took the leap, and he must feel so uncertain about them, and Dean thinks he owes him something, at least. Cas told him he loved him. Nothing felt right since then, because Cas died and because Cas thought he could never have what he wanted and because Cas thought he wasn't the most important person in Dean's life with Sammy, whatever that meant, and because Dean had to come to terms with that reality, a reality where Cas loves him, has loved him, him, Dean, broken and all. A man. A man Cas thought beautiful, and loving, and- and Dean has many issues, but Cas was never one of them, and Cas deserves to feel certain about his place in Dean's life.

So Dean asks Cas to come closer, and there's a still moment before Cas does, still too far away from Dean, and Dean can't see him, can't make himself turn because his heart is beating so loud he thinks if he looks at Cas, it's gonna beat out of his chest. So he reaches behind himself, finds Cas' hand and brings it forward, keeps it between his hands and brings them to his face. Breathes Cas in. "Please don't leave again" he says, in that tone he used when he prayed to Cas. He feels Cas shift, finally, as if he lost some of the tension from his body, feels the bed dip behind him, and he doesn't know how Cas moves but then Dean's back is pressed against Cas' front, and despite his beating heart, Dean is feeling the exhaustion start to take him. "Cas, I..." he tries, but he can't think anymore, can't make sense of anything.

"You can fall asleep, Dean," Cas says, his words warm in Dean's hair and the last thing he hears before sleep takes him is "I will be here when you wake up."

So when Dean wakes up, it's to a heavy arm around his chest and slow breaths against the back of his head. There's no moment of confusion about who he's with, or why. He doesn't even get a second to consider if it was real before Cas says "good morning, Dean" and Dean wonders if Cas slept at all. If he needs to sleep, now. There's so much they need to talk about, all three of them.

"Cas," he tries again, remembereing his attempt from last night. He needs Cas to know, for sure. "Cas, I - what you said. You know I. I've never..." and Cas is like "I know, Dean" but he sounds a little confused, so Dean doensn't know what Cas thinks he knows. So he turns, takes a second to notice how close they are now, and he thinks about Cas' eyes, his lips. Thinks, soon.

"You have to know," he says, as if Cas didn't say anything. "You have to know how I - what I" and he can't get the words out, not sure if it would be easier if there were no words to get out or if there were no voices in his head screaming over them. So he breathes in, Cas' scent overtaking his senses, brings his palm to Cas' face. Closes his eyes. Thinks, soon. Thinks, now, and meets Cas halfway.

[gatheringbones]

[“Sometime around 2008, I attended a San Francisco rope performance event with a friend. Watching girls get tied up onstage, I felt like I was actually a part of the kinky queer underworld that I had long romanticized. At one point in the evening, starting as a joke and then fueled by free prosecco, I just started calling my date “daddy.” It was meant, I think, to project the message that I was down to fuck and in the know to fellow hotties. On an elevator ride, I responded to a question about a cab with a breathless “Yes, daddy” and everyone around us started moaning, “That is so hot.” Once I saw what a rise that magic word got out of everyone, I couldn’t stop smashing my hand on the daddy button. It was hot and also, crucially, funny to call a woman I was on a date with daddy.

This is the daddy joke. It can also be the mommy joke, the boy or girl or boi joke, the puppy or pony or piggy joke. A fantasy diffused into a 24/7 leather identity. The dignity, the ethics of these leather identities, is feeling it all the time without imposing it on anyone who hasn’t consented to that dynamic: just because you are a daddy to someone in a leather bar doesn’t mean you are the daddy of everyone in the leather bar. “It’s not some creepy thing about my father!” I found myself constantly disclaiming the more I used the word as dirty talk, as seduction, as casual in-joke. And it’s not. It’s about something much more malleable than any one man or even manhood.

By becoming a deeply personal pet name, daddy connects you to a subculture by way of a term of endearment. It invokes a hard cock rubbing against a bubble butt on the dance floor, silver chains along the brim of black caps, the idea of being, and/or being under the boot of, someone enormous who has all the knowledge and the taste and the unconditional love in the world, love that is all for you, even if it’s just for one brief encounter in a dark alleyway. Daddy telegraphs that when you’re here, you’re family—and no matter what happens, no matter how dangerous things get, you will be loved until the end of time.”]

tina horn, from why are people into that? a cultural investigation of kink, 2024

[finnothehimbo]

I work on a trauma unit. ICU is more intense care the stuff you don’t go straight home from. You get transferred to us when you’re more stable then we transfer you home, to rehab or to a long term care facility. We get all the severe cases that you will survive.

I’ve seen teen age girls get paralyzed while being driven to a highschool dance.

I’ve seen a healthy 35 year old slip going down three stairs from his porch to the sidewalk (as we all do how many times a day?). He tried to grab the rail and like some final destination shit that swinging C shaped motion of grabbing the rail and still hitting the ground cracked the back base of his head on step. Paralyzed from the neck down. He was on our unit do to caregiver neglect. He had pressure wounds to the point you could see bone.

I’ve seen a women get rag dolled by a car while pushing a stroller through the cross walk. Her baby was miraculously fine. But the rag doll pulled her legs in opposite directions paralyzed from the low back down.

I’ve been on safety watch for a man who knocked on his neighbors door and shot them both. He’d hung out with them dozens of times. They had zero reason to suspect it would happen. He simply had a mental break and told me “I don’t know what happened- one second I’m having papa John’s with my friends the next the cops are saying I hurt someone. I didn’t hurt anyone. I like x and y they’re my friends. they didn’t do anything wrong. But the cops were tasing me and I was bleeding everywhere”. Not even the person who shot his neighbors knew why his neighbors deserved it. It’s that they didn’t deserve it. There was no divine plan. There was no neglect. There was no signs. Something in his brain just snapped.

The thing is denial is one hell of a drug. It says no I’m the medical provider. No I’m not dumb like them. It would never happen to me. When all of these people were living life then things outside everyones control went wrong. If I can tell you anything it’s that One day we will all be disabled.

Statistics are not in your favor to be fully functional past 60. Most Americans live to 78. I’m terrified to be in a nursing home and you should be too. I’ve also worked in nursing homes. Staff will absolutely make you feel like a burden for asking for your burnt grilled cheese to be remade. Currently nearly all of us are all looking at cafeteria food at best. We’re looking at 17 years olds with no licensing taking care of us because they’re some of the few people in the work force who aren’t burnt out and willing to be underpaid for “experience”. We’re looking at care home staff declaring what your allowed to wear in your own home until you die.

Disability rights aren’t a *them* thing. There’s no way you can guarantee you won’t be disabled. Some of our most severe disabilities are progressive so you can stay in the safety of your own home exercising eating right and never talking to strangers and your own body can betray you. That’s a process we have to have therapists come in for on the trauma unit. Your body is supposed to protect you. Then one day it can’t. One day it’s outside of anyone’s control. We’re not gonna un-paralyze you. We’ll teach you how to live again yes. That won’t un paralyze you though.

[syluriar]

vunerable - sylus x mc!reader

sypnosis: sylus has never been one to give up control, so you try and help him.

a/n: inspired by @yes-no-maybe-soo i legit just read your sylus hc's today and my brain scrambles to write this because althoug i love sylus bing a sub, you made some excellent points of it being hard for him to give up control because of what he went through in his past life (still haven't recovered, anyone else?).

contains: sylus being scared to give up control and not liking these feelings, mc (you) being so gentle with him. there's a slight mention of attmepted murder from sylus' enemies in the past. sylus crying (of that ever happens in game i swear to god-). angst & comfort.

word count: 1381

you straddle him with your hands resting at his hips, his chest is bare that allows you to see his breathing clearer. he's watching you with those ruby eyes you love so much, but you can see a bit of fear in them, unsurprising at the vulnerable position he's in.

it was your idea to do this, to give him the attention he gives you - the warmth, safety and consent. he knows you would never hurt him, but the image of losing all his control reminds him of his past life, as the dragon who has been beaten and chained for thousands of years. when the past you finally freed him he was determined to take control of his life, to never go back to the scared dragon.

he adores you, and you know that, he would do anything for you...but to give up all control, even if it is just you who takes it away...fear creeps back into him.

you lift a hand and reach up to caress his cheek which he immediately nuzzles into to, and he kisses the palm before releasing a sigh,

"it's only me," your voice is so soft, just louder than a whisper, like it was coaxing an animal out of it's shelter. you lean up and cup his face, thumbs brushing against his cheeks. "i'm the only one that's here."

you take one on your hands to gently run through his hair, an action that has him close his eyes to enjoy the feeling, and it makes your heart swell. "we can stop anytime you like, ok?"

a hum comes from his lips as he opens his eyes, and you see that small amount of fear has been replaced by something else.

he hates that you have to him like this, like he's weak, like he's a scared child who needs comforting - he doesn't like that he's showing this side to you, because how can you depend on him if he doesn't stay strong in front of you?

you kiss his forehead and you can feel some of the tension leave his body. a part of you wants to do this fats, you show sylus that yes of course, he can be like this with you, there's no shame and it and you'll always ben there for him , but you need to take it slow. you will show him all these things by listening to him, both words and body. you don't care how long it will take, because it's what he deserves.

you start to leave kisses all over his face, his cheeks, nose, even his chin that makes a small amused huff leave his lips. you're still gentle when you finally place your lips over his own, his hands coming to hold your waist. at any other moment it would be intense, fingers digging into clothing as your tongues fight each other.

but right now it's soft, like a perfect fluffy cushion you relax in. sylus groans at your mouth and you feel good knowing he does too. you see it in his eyes when you pull away, and the slight pink on his cheeks and the tip of his ears.

you giggle. "do you know how cute you look when you blush?"

he sucks in a breath, clearly surprised by your compliment. "cute?" he looks almost amused. "that not a word people associate with me."

"well they don't know you like i do." you give his lips a quick peck to his lips before your hands descend lower to his shoulders, a lot looser than before. "i kinda like it that way."

"and you call me possessive." he chuckles. the air around you two has become easier, the tension slowly fading away.

for some reason your eyes go to his neck, such a strong thing that often aches because of how much he has to look down at you. you move your hands towards his neck, his sharp intake making you freeze.

"oh..." how could you forget a lot of his enemies go for his neck? a common way to end someones life. you felt stupid. "sorry...i was going to massage it. it aches because of how much you have look down on me, doesn't it?"

he doesn't answer you, his eyes cast aside as he continues to breath heavily. your heart aches at the sight and you retract your hands, placing one back on his cheek. "hey, remember, your still in control. stay stop and i will."

his breath shudders and his shoulders tense up once more, his hands now gripping your waist. he sucks through gritted teeth and turns his head away, as if he was ashamed of himself. 

your heart sings with distress at the sight and you want to feel anger of the people that have made sylus this way, but what good will that do here? 

sylus…” you lean your head to meet him and see something shine from his eyes, falling down his cheek.

a tear.

“oh…” you couldn’t hold back at your reach to brush it away, but when your skin makes contact he flinches, and it makes you want to cry yourself. “it’s me, my love. only me. i’m here.” you brush the tear away, fingers gently thumbing in his cheek to help calm him. 

a strangled noise comes from his throat. “i don’t…i didn’t want you to see me like this…” his voice is in a tone you’ve never heard before, one of pain and distress.

“like what?” you reply softly.

he doesn’t answer straight away and you wait patiently, rubbing soothing circles on his shoulders like he had done to yours in times like this. 

“like i am weak, scared…vulnerable.”

you swallow the lump in your throat at his words, each piercing you harshly through the heart. “sylus…there’s nothing with you feeling any of those things.”

“i need to be strong for you.”

“do the strong always require to be strong?”

repeating his own words to him hit him like bricks, his eyes widening and lips parted in shock. ever so gently you cradle his face, his eyes still looking away from you. “wasn’t it you who said that?”

“...it’s not the same.”

“how isn’t it?” you ask, but he doesn’t reply, so you keep talking. “i don’t need you to be strong for me sylus. don’t you think there’s a strongness in being those things? weak, scared and vulnerable?...to me there is.”

your words make him finally look at you, his eyes still holding surprise. “...there is?”

you nod. “even plants and animals have those types of feelings, so you having them is normal. showing them to me is…letting yourself be loved by me even more than you do now. it shows that you trust me to see you this way, and trust me that i won’t turn you away.” 

you lean forward and turn his face to you before grabbing one of his hands and placing it on your chest, your heart beating loudly underneath. “trust me that i will always be patient with you, that i will never rush you and listen to what you say,”

you grab his other hand and bring it to your lips, softly kissing his knuckles and palm before placing it over your cheek. “and trust me that i will always love you, no matter what.”

he hears your love, your utter devotion to him that makes his heart sing. he stares at you with such loving eyes one might say they never knew it existed, but it’s right here, right in this room and in each other's arms.

he kisses you with such intensity, with such love that it almost makes you fall. with your hands on his shoulders you meet his passion, his devotion, his affection and so much more. he cradles your face as your lips part, heavy breaths falling from both. 

“i love you too, my beloved, so so much.”

he holds you tightly with his head buried in your neck, your arms around his neck and brushing through his hair.

you don’t care how many times this needs to happen, to assure him of your love and devotion, of your patient and his consent. 

because you will never, ever hurt him - he deserves better.

[v3lv3tsin]

moonstruck: nishimura riki

| pairning: nishimura riki x reader

I genre: prince!niki, princess!reader

I warnings: no warnings <3

I word count: 1.8k

I stefy's note: just a little something before i actually come back and post the last part of the jungwon series (i'm really sorry it took so long to write but i was busy with uni and some resits), so enjoy :)

[ BACK TO MASTERLIST ]

If anyone would have asked what do you like about Niki, you would have said before that it was his smile, but now ever since getting to know him better that answer changed and so have you. His sense of humor, especially when having guest to entertain was what made you two get close to each other in the first place.

It was easy how it happened and since none of you planned for it to happen made it even more special. But your mother never approved of him, saying that he "wouldn't be a good enough suitor for you" nor a good husband from the way he was behaving.

He was known to be more of carefree than other princes were, but maybe that's what made you notice him. Or maybe it was the sly smile he always gave you whenever you'd meet.

What came to your surprise was that although your mother seemed to be very keen on keeping the two of you apart for as long as possible it didn't seem to work all the time. And this was the case for when Niki invited other distinguished guests, such as Mr. Yang, Mr. Park and Mr. Sim, alongside you. Obviously.

To your surprise, your mother seemed to have approved of the invitation long before you could've even proposed the idea to her. Meaning that you would be accompanied by your governess. Saying that you weren't excited even a bit to see him, was a lie in itself. There was no doubt that his father approved of the party to be held at their spring residence. You heard about the stories about the fountains and their respective tricks so being able to experience it sounded perfect already.

So that is how you and your governess, Claire, found yourselves waiting to be escorted into the gardens and fountains of the residence, by Niki and his father. It didn't take long to see Nikis smile widening as soon as he saw you waiting for him and his father to be able to welcome you properly, as if he didn't plan this whole party just to see you and hear your voice. Having to go to all the trouble of convincing his father that having his others friends coming to the party it would distract him from even talking to you in the first place.

Realizing they might be busy with the guests that would have to be arriving soon or they already arrived, the butler escorts you into the gardens with a small grin as if he knew that would happen when you would enter the garden area. As soon as you enter through the gates you're met with a slight splash of water coming from the statutes guarding the fountains at the center of the garden. Although the water didn't get too much on your dress as it wasn't a lot, it made you laugh just a little bit.

One thing is for sure that this was no ordinary party. And another thing that you realized was that water will be involved.

Before being able exit being hit by the water in the first place, you finally make eye contact with Niki, seeing that he was laughing too. Coming to greet and welcome you to their spring residence, were both him and his father. "Welcome to our little house, Mrs. Choi." Mr. Nishimura, Niki's father says on a modest tone, knowing that the residence wasn't close to being little.

"Thank you for inviting me." You smile happily, knowing how much of a fuss was for him and his son to be able to have this many guests in their private residence. Smiling at Niki before to his father, you're met with the news that lunch would be served soon, as one of the butlers came to announce Mr. Nishimura.

"I see that you've already met my son." His father feels the need to point out that your relationship with his son was far from a friendship from what he could grasp at first sight. Without wanting to have more of the awkward silence that seemed to be happening for some time now, his father voices on the same tone as before, making sure to let the two of you talk in peace. "Lunch will be served soon."

"I'm surprised your mother decided to let you come alone." Niki speaks on a teasing tone, thinking it was high time that he talks about most feared topic between the two of you. Your mother. It was true that his father agreed to plan the party and sent you an invitation, and not your mother, knowing that she would never let you come to it.

"She is busy with tonight's party." You answer him giving him barely any information about your plans for the night as you were missing your mother's party instead of being there to help her organize everything. "But you knew that very well." You continue on the same tone wanting to let him know that it was his idea this party, in the first place.

"I missed you." Niki blurs out while rubbing the back of his neck, in a whispery tone as he looks at you. It was true, he did. Ever since you spent more time together he couldn't take his mind off you as much as he tried.

"Lunch should be served soon." You answer by changing the topic, not wanting to talk to him about the feelings you have been developing for him lately. Or ever since you first met him at one of Mr. Yang's parties. Heading to the stunningly looking table, that seemed to made out of stone having around it shining stone seats. One interesting aspect about the stone seats was that they all seemed to have a hole in the middle of them. It did seem uncomfortable at first, but when you saw Niki sit down next you, all of it was gone.

Usually you would be the one to complain about how comfortable or not something was, but it seemed that this was not the case. Everyone around the table seemed to be enjoying themselves, you finally make eye contact with Niki's father who seemed to be in an intense conversation with his son while you were sharing your thoughts with one of Mr. Park's date. Suddenly, without any warning whatsoever you could feel something coming from the back of you.

Water. Splashes of water everywhere. Surrounding the whole table. From the front and from the back.

The delicious meal in front of you was not drenched in water and so were you. Not as much as you have except as the dress having so many layers managed to block some of the water coming from the chair you were sitting on.

"Gentlemen, i think it is better to enjoy the view somewhere else." Wearing a smirk on his face was now Mr. Nishimura, Nki's father who seemed to be enjoying the annoyed or the surprised faces of his guests. As much as you hated your mother for forbidding you to see Niki, there was one aspect that you two usually agree on.

Never, under no circumstance, piss of Mr. Nishimura. As charming as his son can be, the Nishimuras have always been known for getting their revenge, one way or another.

Getting up from your seat to follow Niki's father, who was now leading the way to what looked like to be a mechanical music-playing theatre. It was nothing you have seen before. While walking to the theatre you felt Niki's hand holding yours as the two of you followed his fathers lead. The place was beautiful to say the least, each statute had water coming from it in a peaceful manner. Some were showing scenes you have never seen before, such as a demon like face who had its tongue coming out, along with water coming out of its nose or two lovers walking together, hand in hand, in a forest.

Before you could see the theatre in its full glory, Niki whispered to you. "Come, i know a place when we'll be just fine." Just fine? Not being hit by the water again sounded perfectly so you followed him willingly. He surely knew more about the place than you, but knowing him he was surely planning something.

Sitting in front of a tower-like palace you could a court life, showing different professions, whether it is the building work-party, the daily workers who bring building materials to the foreman, who drinks, or the butchers slaughtering an ox, or the barber who shaves a man beneath his guild sign. The palace was surrounded by a three-storey building in a semicircle, partly giving a view into its interior.

Busy  activity  takes  place  on  the  street:  a  dancing  bear  performs, guards march past the Residence, a farmer pushes an old woman in a wheelbarrow  over  the  road.  Figures  from  the  Commedia  dell’arte  are also to be seen, and if one so wishes, one can discern the social status of the figures involved. The most noble move less and more slowly that the workers. 

Holding your waist from behind as you watched the now music-playing theatre was Niki, that was whispering to you new information about the palace-like theatre. "200 figurines, powered by water." It wasn't a lot of information, but thinking that these 200 figurines were moving by the help of water, was something innovative. Considering that the both of you sat pretty far in the back, for any of you to be able to see anything, you suggested moving forward to be able to watch the scene better.

Not long after the mechanical theatre stopped from Mr. Nishimuras signal, water started splashing again. Slower this time, but still a lot. Considering that you and Niki were far back, the water didn't get to you. That is when you decided to ask him, how or why did that happen. Seeing that your curiosity was peaked, Niki answers before you could open you mouth to even ask the question. "This spot is never wet. There's no water conduit here."

Taking your hand in his as his father was now leading the gentlemen to a church looking like building, Niki was leading you outside the beautiful garden. Trying to avoid the water coming from the different parts of them, he took your face in his hands and said on a loving whispery tone. "I waited so long to do this."

Before you could protest, his lips found yours and all seemed forgotten. Your mum not letting you see him again. Your governess having to accompany you to the party. The disapproving looks his father would give you from time to time.

All of it was gone.

© V3LV3TSIN — do not translate, plagiarise or claim any of my works as your own.

[allllium]

Hi! I'm not sure if requests are open, but if they aren't feeling free to ignore this.

So my birthday was on the more recent side (the 19th) and, most my birthdays (this year included) ive ended up crying and with everyone doing more important things so I end up with like maybe 1-3 people who celebrate it like a week late, and as a result I just don't tell people my birthday,,

So I was thinking sirius x reader where they're still both crushing on each other and he finds out he missed readers birthday for the aforementioned reasons jdkdkdksjdk

I'm sorry if it's a odd request, and it's totally chill if you don't do this. thank you for your time, and I hope you have a good day/night and don't forget to stretch, eat and drink some water!

~ this isn't an odd request at all, I get this feeling a lot. I have cried on every single birthday I can remember so I definitely get you. Either way I really hope you had a good birthday and hopefully the next one will be even better.

~ Fluff, Hurt/Comfort

Time to Celebrate

~ Sirius is very offended he didn't get to celebrate your birthday

You don't even know how long you've been friends with Sirius. One day his friend James, got a crush on your friend Lily, and the rest is history.

That being said, you've never told them your birthday. Year after year went by and you thought there was no point to bring it up. Telling them your birthday meant pressure and expectations. It meant being possibly being ignored and being alone once again even though you shouldn't be.

Over the years of growing closer to Sirius, he's never even asked. You don't blame him. He has a lot going on. You can't expect your birthday to be on his list of high priorities.

Sirius feels different.

The only friend that knows your birthday is Lily. You should've known this would happen eventually.

"What the bloody hell is wrong with you!" Sirius yells as he runs down the hall in your direction.

"Is that a trick question?" You ask, turning to face Sirius. "And is the running really necessary?"

"Why didn't you tell me about your birthday!?"

"You never asked." You say simply and wait as he slows to a walk and reaches you.

"That's a good reason and you know it. Explain please." He practically demands.

"I didn't think it was necessary. It's just a day."

"No it's not. It's a celebration."

"When's the last time you wanted to celebrate your birthday without James making you?"

"That's not the point!"

"It kinda is." You roll your eyes with a small smirk, and turn to walk away.

"But it's important." He follows right behind you. "You're important."

You stop walking for a split second, "It's just never been a big thing for me. I've never really had anyone to celebrate with." You shrug.

"But now you do." His voice has an upset tone laced somewhere in it.

"I know. I just- I didn't want to risk it."

He doesn't say anything for a few seconds. "Well come on then, we have a couple of birthdays to make up for."

He grabs your hand to pull you with him.

"Right now? We have class, Sirius."

"We have classes all the time, It'll be fine."

He takes you out of the school to get things like cake and decorations.

Something for every year he missed.

[starlitvesper]

I do a lot of very publicly working through my traumas and hang-ups, as well as diving into things that are considered “gross” just because fiction is a sandbox for safely doing all of that. And I’m sometimes reticent to put my work on display BECAUSE I know people are going to make their moral judgements about me as a person from my writing.

But I’m getting very tired of that.

Most recently, I’ve been working out some thoughts about jealousy and manipulation, and what it means to encounter those things in someone and where the limits are on forgiveness. And it’s been both challenging and rewarding to explore that and write something where I think people are acting and responding in ways that are realistic for their characters and the world they’re in.

I’m choosing a more “palatable” example than some of the other stuff I’ve written, but all the same, the point is to explore an idea and tease apart the emotions and get past the disgust a lot of people have when encountering this stuff, and see how things play out. I’m not making a moral statement or casting judgment. It’s genuinely just … toss some guys in a situation and see what happens next. What’s an INTERESTING way for things to go?

But I could also be writing the most morally bankrupt slasher simply because it’s fiction and it’s not hurting anyone and people who want to feel those emotions in a safe and controlled way are free to engage and those who dislike that are free to stroll by.

And I think that’s my point with this ramble. Fiction is already a safe and controlled environment by its nature. It doesn’t need moral police stomping around trying to control it more or make it safer. YOU are the arbiter of YOUR experiences. If you hate adrenaline rushes or heights, you walk past the roller coaster. It’s that simple.

Do you think authors sometimes don't realize how their, uh, interests creep into their writing? I'm talking about stuff like Robert Jordan's obvious femdom kink, or Anne Rice's preoccupation with inc*st and p*dophilia. Did their editors ever gently ask them if they've ever actually read what they've written?

Firstly, a reminder: This is not tiktok and we just say the words incest and pedophilia here.

Secondly, I don't know if I would call them 'interests' so much as fixations or even concerns. There are monstrous things that people think about, and I think writing is a place to engage with those monstrous things. It doesn't bother me that people engage with those things. I exist somewhere within the whump scale, and I would hope no one would think less of me just because sooner or later I like to rough a good character up a bit, you know? It's fun to torture characters, as a treat!

But, anyway, assuming this question isn't, "Do writers know they're gross when I think they are gross" which I'm going to take the kind road and assume it isn't, but is instead, "Do you think authors are aware of the things they constantly come back to?"

Sometimes. It can be jarring to read your own writing and realize that there are things you CLEARLY are preoccupied with. (mm, I like that word more than concerns). There are things you think about over and over, your run your mind over them and they keep working their way back in. I think this is true of most authors, when you read enough of them. Where you almost want to ask, "So...what's up with that?" or sometimes I read enough of someone's work that I have a PRETTY good idea what's up with that.

I've never read Robert Jordan and I don't intend to start (I think it would bore me this is not a moral stance) and I've really never read Rice's erotica. In erotica especially I think you have all the right in the world to get fucking weird about it! But so, when I was young I read the whole Vampire Chronicles series. I don't remember it perfectly, but there's plenty in it to reveal VERY plainly that Anne Rice has issues with God but deeply believes in God, and Anne Rice has a preoccupation with the idea of what should stay dead, and what it means to become. So, when i found out her daughter died at the age of six, before Rice wrote all of this, and she grew up very very Catholic' I said, 'yeah, that fucking checks out'.

Was Rice herself aware of how those things formed her writing? I think at a certain point probably yes. The character of Claudia is in every way too on the nose for her not to have SOME idea unless she was REAL REAL dense about her own inner workings. But, sometimes I know where something I write about comes from, that doesn't mean I'm interested in sharing it with the class. I would never ever fucking say, 'The reasons I seem to write so much of x as y is that z happened to me years ago' ahaha FUCK THAT NOISE. NYET. RIDE ON, COWBOY.

But I've known some people in fandom works who clearly have something going on and don't seem to realize it. Or they're very good at hiding it. Based on the people I'm talking about I would say it's more a lack of self-knowledge, and I don't even mean that unkindly. I have, in many ways, taken myself down to the studs and rebuilt it all, so I unfortunately am very aware of why I do and write the things I do most of the time. It's extremely annoying not to be able to blame something. I imagine it must be very freeing. But it ain't me, babe.

Anyway, a lot of words to say: Maybe! But that might not stop them from writing it, it might be a useful thing for them to engage with, and you can always just not read it.

Also, we don't censor words here.

[keepingitformyself]

good men die too (so i’d rather be with you)

A/N: first natalie fic. needed to get this off my chest. crush by ethel cain on repeat as i wrote this.

SYNOPSIS: natalie scatorccio isn’t the kind of girl you bring home to your parents. and she’s not the kind of girl you’d think to spend forever with. she’s reckless, dangerous, and rough. but that doesn’t stop you from wanting her all the same.

pairings: natalie scatorccio x reader

genre: no crash AU

warnings: suggestive themes, blood, bruises

MASTERLIST

please do not repost my work anywhere for any reason at all. if you do see this happen to any of my stories, please let me know. thank you x.

it’s no surprise to anyone when natalie scatorccio comes strolling into soccer practice twenty minutes late. long after coach martinez has just finished a speech on the importance of time management.

her leather jacket slung over her jersey clad body gives you just the faintest scent of marlboro reds clinging to her clothes. she wears a smirk as she approaches the rest of the girls on the field.

coach martinez merely rolls his eyes at her presence. he decides to barely batt an eye anymore. what was the point? natalie was good. maybe not the best, but good enough to get away with her shit.

you weren’t really close to her like the others were. not like misty, who hung on her every word, or shauna, who tried (and failed) to keep her in check. you weren’t even like lottie, who seemed to understand her in a way that made no sense. no, you and natalie were something different.

you didn’t talk much, but when you did, it was charged. every snarky comment or off-hand joke felt like it was said to imply something neither of you wanted to admit. like a game neither of you were willing to lose.

the first time you really noticed it was after a game. the team was celebrating a win at some rundown diner. cramming into booths that barely fit you all. natalie sat across from you, her fingers wrapped around a coke bottle, condensation dripping from the glass.

her eyes met yours, and she smirked like she knew something you didn’t.

“you’re staring.” she drawled, bringing the bottle to her lips.

“you wish.”

she laughed, low and throaty, before leaning in. “i know.”

that was how it always went. a flicker of something in a hallway, a touch too long passing water bottles at practice, her voice too close to your ear when she made some off-hand comment that sent heat pooling in your stomach. and every time, you refused to acknowledge it.

because natalie scatorccio was trouble. and you didn’t do trouble.

but damn if you weren’t drawn to her anyway.

it was easier to act like she didn’t get under your skin. to roll your eyes, to scoff, to push her buttons just to see if she’d push back. you’d rather drive her crazy, make her hate you, than admit what you actually wanted. becuase if you admitted it, it would be real. and real meant dangerous.

real meant natalie had the power to ruin you.

so you kept playing the game. kept up the act. and natalie…she played right into it.

even with the others around, you found ways to test the limits.

at parties, when she was sprawled on a couch with some guy draping an arm over her shoulder, you’d pass by and let your fingers brush against hers for half a second too long. just long enough to make her glance up at you through her lashes, lips quirking like she knew exactly what you were doing.

in the locker room, when the team was too busy talking about the next game, you’d let your knee knock into hers while tying your sneakers. she never moved away.

one night, the team had gathered at jackie’s house for a movie night, a tangled mess of limbs and blankets on the floor.

you ended up beside natalie, bodies pressed together in the dark. her hand rested on her stomach, dangerously close to yours.

you could feel the warmth radiating from her skin, but neither of you moved. not when she exhaled slowly, not when her pinky brushed yours so lightly it could’ve been an accident. you weren’t sure if you imagined it, but you swore you felt her shift just a little closer.

then there was the time in the school hallway. the team was heading to the cafeteria together, but natalie had stopped by her locker. you weren’t supposed to wait for her, weren’t supposed to lean against the metal beside her as she rummaged through her bag, weren’t supposed to mutter,

“hurry up, scatorccio,” in a tone only she would catch. she smirked at you then, slow and knowing, before tucking a pack of cigarettes into her jacket.

“gotta problem with me taking my time?” she murmured, just quiet enough that no one else heard.

you scoffed. “i’ve got a problem with you wasting mine.”

she grinned. “right.”

one friday night, after practice, you found her in the parking lot, perched on the hood of her dad’s beat-up mercury, cigarette balanced between her fingers. the night was cool, and the parking lot was empty save for the two of you.

“you need a ride?” she asked, eyes flicking up to meet yours.

“i’m good.”

“you sure? wouldn’t want you walking home all alone. bad things happen to good girls.”

“i never said i was good.”

her smirk widened, something dark flashing behind her eyes. “no, i guess you didn’t.”

you should’ve walked away. should’ve ignored the way her gaze lingered, how the glow of her cigarette lit up her face in a way that made your breath hitch. but instead, you stepped closer. just a fraction. just enough.

natalie tapped her cigarette, ashes scattering to the pavement. “you ever gonna admit you want me?”

you scoffed, crossing your arms. “your window’s already passed.”

she laughed, full and unbothered. “bullshit.”

you didn’t answer. you didn’t need to. she could read your mind just fine.

and that pissed you off.

because you hated it. the way she could see right through you. the way she knew you wanted her even when you wouldn’t admit it to yourself.

it made you want to punch her, just to get rid of the feeling clawing up your throat. you wanted to see her lip split open, watch her wipe the blood away with that smug little smirk because then at least you wouldn’t have to think about how badly you wanted to kiss her instead.

then, one night, she cornered you outside a party, the bass from inside thrumming through your ribs. her lip was split, a bruise already blooming high on her cheekbone, and she looked at you like she had all the answers.

“i owe you a black eye and two kisses,” she murmured, voice laced with amusement. “tell me when you wanna come get ‘em.”

your stomach tightened, heat crawling up your spine. natalie licked at the blood on her lip, watching you like she was waiting for you to call her bluff.

but this time, you didn’t want to call it.

you swallowed hard, fists clenching at your sides. “you don’t know what you’re asking for.”

natalie tilted her head, stepping into your space, forcing you to meet her gaze. “i know exactly what I’m asking for. and so do you.”

the words settled between you, heavy and inescapable. you wanted to fight her. you wanted to push her away. but more than that, you wanted her to keep going. to ruin you the way you knew only she could.

“say it,” she pressed, voice low, eyes dark. “say you want me.”

your breath hitched. “i—”

“i want you,” she said first, cutting you off. the game, finally over.

and just like that, the bottom dropped out from under you.

you would’ve walked away. but every inch of your body screamed for you to stay. you could feel the weight of her presence as if she was a magnet, pulling you closer, her eyes locked on you like she was reading your every thought.

“i’m not the type of girl who plays by the rules,” she said quietly, voice dripping with something between challenge and promise.

“and i'm not the type who gets caught up in trouble,” you shot back, but it sounded like a lie. you both knew it.

her lips curled into a knowing smile, eyes glinting with mischief. “yeah? that’s funny, because every time i look at you, you seem like you're trying to talk yourself out of something.”

you crossed your arms, shifting your weight to one foot, trying to steady your pulse, but her words hit you harder than you expected. you could feel her eyes on you, following every move, reading the way your body tightened when she came closer.

“trying to act all tough, but you’re standing here, aren't you?” she continued, her tone light but pointed. “guess that makes you just as bad as me.”

your heart skipped, the sting of her words digging into you. “don’t flatter yourself. i’m not playing your game.”

she took a step forward, and you couldn’t help but move back a fraction, but only because you didn’t want her to see how badly she was getting to you. “you’re already in it,” she said, voice dropping lower. "you think i don’t notice the way you look at me?"

your breath hitched, and you scoffed, doing everything you could to keep the distance. "i don't look at you."

natalie cocked her head, eyes narrowing in playful challenge. “really? ‘cause i could’ve sworn i saw you staring when i walked into practice today. or maybe it was when i grabbed that water bottle from you after the scrimage. funny how you can't keep your eyes off me, huh?”

you swallowed, fighting the flush rising in your chest. “you’re imagining things.”

“i’m not,” she said, voice dripping with confidence as she moved even closer. her scent, a mix of smoke and something sharp, intoxicating, wrapped around you. "i know you want to fight it. but you’re not fooling anyone. least of all me.”

“i’m not some fucking game,” you muttered, voice sharp, but shaky. you couldn’t keep the edge from your tone, couldn’t keep the uncertainty out of your voice.

“you’re already in it,” she repeated, her tone quiet but unwavering. “so why don’t you stop pretending? stop pretending you’re not already caught up in me. you don’t get to walk away anymore.”

her voice was so close now, you could feel the heat from her breath brushing against your skin, and every nerve in your body screamed for you to back away, but your feet stayed rooted. your heart thudded, each beat pulling you closer to her than you wanted to be.

“i’m not some... i’m not the type of girl who...” you started, but your words were getting tangled in the mess of thoughts she was creating in your head. you were losing control, and the worst part? you didn’t want it back.

“not the type of girl who what?” she murmured, leaning in just enough to make you feel every word. “who gets what she wants?”

you opened your mouth to say something, anything, but you couldn’t. the words were gone, smothered by the feeling of her closeness, the way she was looking at you, waiting for you to break.

“you’re just a little scared,” she whispered, a teasing lilt in her voice. “scared of what’s underneath all this. scared of what’ll happen if you let yourself want it.”

Your pulse spiked. “stop it.”

“no,” she said, her smile widening. “you start it.”

you could feel the air around you both thickening, charged, and the space between you two felt like it was closing in, getting tighter, until you could barely breathe.

you could taste the words you weren’t saying, hanging in the air, unbearable. and in that moment, you hated her, hated how she could do this to you—make you feel like this.

but you couldn’t pull away. you couldn’t fight it.

and she knew it.

“tell me,” she pressed, voice low, dangerous. “what do you want, huh?”

it wasn’t a question anymore. it was a command. and in the space between, you realized she wasn’t asking for an answer.

she already had the one she wanted.

[lara4eclipze]

» I Miss Us

sypnosis: lara was never one to be in situationships nor talking stages, she claimed it was stupid and would only end up with ones heart broken or yearning — yet here she was missing you her only situationship

warning: angst, situationship, hurt no comfort, swearing, ghosting, italics for flashbacks, etc

talks: I'm so sorry for those requests i haven't written yet BUT trust i am gonna write some and release them maybe today and tomorrow!, thank you for your patience ^^

taglist: @ohmyhaely @nyssalvr @vrtualstar @c-yerim @jellaaa @nakylvr @chuugetmesohigh

lara stared at her phone, at your conversation to be specific — it's been two months since you two have even chatted, in lara's opinion is the longest two months of her life

lara used to get excited just staying up and chatting with you — sneaking out of the dorms just to have drinks or eat out with you, it didn't matter that she could've been caught by her management — what mattered to her was you

the door to the kats shared house creeks louder than lara would've wanted — her eyes adjust to the dark environment only to make out a figure standing near the kitchen, their leader sophia

"where have you been?!, you know i have been worried sick? i called everyone including your mom!" sophia screams at lara, maybe for the first time in a while — atleast lara wants to pretend like so

in reality lara has been on sophias nerves ever since she started to talking to you — she always left without telling anyone she would be lazy in practices just so that she can chat with you

"go to your room — and whoever it is you are meeting up with, stop it lara you're getting too distracted" sophia mutters trying to keep her calm demeanor "stop telling me what to do" lara snaps back

"do it or ill tell the management team" sophia threatened, it all just stopped from that moment on — lara had to choose between her needs and wants, she walked silently to her shared room fidgeting with her phone

she debated whether to chat you or listen to sophia yet as much as she hated what she was gonna do she did it

she ghosted you.

the first week was confusing to say the least — lara who always chatted with you through every platform was now getting cold?, her usual energetic response to your chats were now replaced with "yeah" or "okay"

the second week was weird, lara had took almost 2 - 3 days just to respond to you, you double texted you had even called her a few times yet it always ended with her giving you a honestly lame excuse

the third to fourth week hurted the most, lara had fully ghosted you, she didn't respond at all, you knew she was active on her socials i mean she posted every week — she always saw your texts she just chose not to open them, you got desperate for even a drop of her attention, it got so bad to the point you tried contacting her other mutual friends

by the second month you had started to accept what had happened — you didn't wait for a notification from her user anymore, you didnt expect a miracle to happen

lara breaths heavily as she back reads on your chats — it took all of her courage not to call you during all of this, she tried and tried making herself believe that you were just a waste of time that you were just a distraction

yet every little thing makes her remember you, late night trips?, your favorite food, even your scent — it all comes back to you

maybe you were meant for eachother just not in this time not in this moment — she sighs massaging her temples, her lips pressed into a thin line as longing creeps into her

she types then deletes again, types and then deletes — maybe it was too long?, too casual? — lara over analyzed her text to you, until she just typed something simple

a notification pops up on your phone, it was 2 am who would be awake in such hour?

my laru♡: hi, how are you?

your heart sinks, everything you've worked so hard for has come down to this moment, moving on, crying even denial that she ghosted you

y/n: I'm good.

lara's mood shifts, you really are gone — the period on the end of the sentence and the proper grammar, screamed over her

my laru♡: I'm sorry, i miss us

you wanted to respond saying you do too, you missed hours and hours of taking with her — laughing at the stupidest things ever, god even that stupid nickname she had in your chats

y/n: me too.

yet as reality dawns on lara, its all a sick cycle — she could never date you, because of her career, she just wanted to pretend that it didnt matter just for a few more minutes

[atiyasnake]

As predicted, I wrote some more (1,143 more words). TW for mentions of blood and vomiting.

~~

On The television Gotham watched as the Joker smiled with glee at this ‘supposed Wayne’. It was hard to believe considering how many black-haired and blue-eyed children there were. Either way, it was with waited breath that they watched what was about to happen to the Joker's latest victim. 

When the Joker finally released the kid’s face he pranced around on the screen before reaching off to the side to grab something.  A modified gas makes came into view. A crude drawing with red and white paint of a familiar smile was on the front. 

With resignation, they watched as the Joker roughly put it on the boy’s face. 

__________

The mask was tight. It dug into Danny’s skin and pulled at his hair from the straps the Joker roughly pulled over his head. In comparison, it wasn’t as bad as what he had grown used to. Still, he wanted to rip the damn thing off.  

Instead, a hand gripped his hair and yanked, showing his face again to the camera. The Joker hummed before caressing his hair and then clapping with a laugh. 

“Now! Ladies and gentlemen, I give you a front-row seat to a new treat I’ve made with my dear dear friends,” the Joker said as he showboated in front of the camera while a couple of men stood off the side. 

He was getting tired of this shit. He didn’t want to be anyone’s show pony, he had enough of it with Vlad. 

The Joker kept talking with little chuckles in between, and with each one Danny clenched his jaw more and more. 

“Now let the show begin!”

Suddenly, there was a hissing sound from the mask and reflexively Danny tried to hold his breath. He had heard about the different gases in Gotham before in short mentions in the news. He’d rather not test anything. He had enough experience with all sorts of ‘concoctions’ and their ‘interesting effects’.

Though, as expected, whether it be scientists or rogues in Gotham they didn’t like to see him be stubborn. So with a snap of the Joker’s fingers, a swift punch was delivered into his gut and Danny couldn't help but gasp and try to take another breath.

A sickly sweet and rotten smell filled his nose, making him gag which only made it worse. 

At first, it didn’t do anything, but slowly his chest began to hurt and there was a warmth inside. The Joker laughed, monologuing to the camera and the warmth began to burn. 

Danny had already been hurting. He’s been continuously hurting for far longer than he’d care to think about. He knew the routine. He knew how this went. 

Stay quiet. 

Keep still. 

It’ll pass. 

He tried to keep telling himself this when the echoes of screams started. 

Danny didn’t know how much time passed as he just kept still. The fire was burning underneath his skin and he could feel it leaking out of his nose and mouth. There were still men around and the red dot of a camera looking towards him. He kept quiet and a bigger hand grabbed his hair, pulling it enough to make his neck strain as he was still tied down to the chair. 

Then suddenly shadows rained down with shattering glass and all hell broke loose. 

The hand retreated but another pulled his chair down and he fell to his side, his head knocking into the ground. Another point where fire leaked out while the mask dug into his cheek. He could only watch around him. 

There was yelling and laughter. The sound of crackling of electricity sent phantom spasms down his limbs as the echo of screams reached a higher pitch. 

There were so many shadows moving around. The grunting sound of bodies surrounded him.

At some point, he felt the restraints fall away but still, he didn’t move. 

Be still. Be still. Be still. Be still bestill bestill bestillbestill bestillbestillbestill. 

Except a hand was reaching for his face. 

The mask straps tugged at his hair as it was slipped off. It no longer dug into his face. The gas was taken away. Except whenever they take away the mask it's for something worse. They lure you into a false sense of relief only to rip it away. So he did what he always did. 

He got his mouth on the closest hand near his face and he bit down.

They hated when he did that in the lab. They’d scream for ‘it’ to let go. He never let go unless they made him. 

Danny knew how this went. He clenched his jaw shut harder and felt something begin to give beneath his teeth. He couldn’t taste whatever it was given his mouth full of his own burning blood. He still didn’t let go. 

He could barely see past it all but he would not let go. He couldn’t, he was burning inside and out and the screams were pulling at him. Hands were reaching out to him but then there was an explosion and they were blown back. 

His body rolled and he caught himself hitting something before scrambling onto all fours. Fire was licking at his throat and he couldn’t stop it from coming up. He hacked and coughed as something wet and hot filled his mouth. The taste of iron and the sight of red on his skin were far too familiar. 

It was ironic. This weird ‘concoction’ seemed to make him bleed just like the lab did. Just when Danny thought he finally got away. He chuckled. 

Light and shadows danced off to the side. Two of them looked like they had pointy ears and one of those looked like it had wings. They moved swiftly and gracefully around each other, never straying too far as if they were bound back together by some unseen force. 

Huh. 

The light caught on something and Danny found himself looking at the camera, its red light still lit. His limbs shook as he grabbed the camera, it was surprisingly high quality and he couldn't help but laugh lightly. Still, the button to turn it off was the same.  Someone was running towards him and he threw the camera chuckling again when it hit their head and they dropped though he had to stop when he coughed up more blood that burned. 

It hurt.

The room wouldn’t stop shifting as the colors warped around him with stains of black. His chest was in agony and pressing his head against the floor and curling up wouldn’t stop it. The whispers and screams were coming back again, reaching out to grab a hold. His throat kept spasming with each cough that wouldn’t let him get rid of the taste of iron. 

He couldn't do anything but let the agony and darkness take hold. 

Be still. Be quiet. 

It’ll pass.

Shrodinger's BatCat Child

DP x DC Prompt

When Selina was pregnant with her's and Bruce's child, she was thinking of settling down and raising the child. But when she had given birth to the boy, someone had broken into the hospital and stolen not only her baby but also other babies had been taken from the hospital. She tried to find out who took her baby boy but couldn't find the perpetrator.

Heartbroken at the loss of her baby, Selina masks her grief with being Catwoman. She doesn't tell Bruce about their baby boy, even after the new boy that goes under the Bats wing. She does treat each new Robin as if they were her own son. She talks to Harley about what had happened when Damian comes into the fold, where she then reveals that she had a baby with Bruce to the man and what happened to their baby after a few sessions with Harley.

Danny is on the run from Amity, from the Fentons, from the GIW, and from Vlad. The Fentons found out about him being Phantom and attacked him. They then teamed up with the GIW to hunt him down. He doesn't want to go to Vlad, as the Fruitloop is slowly becoming more and more crazy to get him to become his son and slowly focusing less and less on Maddie.

He heads to Gotham, as the city spirit, when she was chosen to be part of his court because of her knowledge and power, had told him that he was one of hers, a child born in Gotham to a woman that wasn't Maddie, Catwoman, and that's also how he found out that he's the son of Batman as well, because Lady Gotham gave him that answer as well, but she didn't tell him their real names. He just hopes that his mom and dad will be happy to learn that their son is still (mostly) alive and on his way to them.

And then Danny is caught by the Joker. He couldn't put up that much of a fight as he used up a lot of Ectoplasm escaping the lab he was in. Tucker's family moved away during middle school, and so did Sam's family when the start of high school came, Jazz had returned from college to help him escape the lab he was held in, but had to go back if she wanted to keep the scholarship.

The Batfam was having a family day out in Gotham. Bruce and Selina were engaged and wanted to bond as a family. Then Joker began broadcasting across Gotham.

"Hello Gotham! Today, I have a special guest with me"

The camera panned to a boy tied up in a chair, head hanging low.

"Brucie Boy seems to have forgotten to mention that he has another brat to call his own, so I took it upon myself to inform you all about him!"

When Joker grabbed the face of the boy and showed it to the camera, the entire Batfam tensed. Because the boys face had the features of both Bruce and Selina, the cuts, bruises, and blood on the boys face couldn't hide that fact, and now they need to find the boy to save him from what Joker has planned for their son.

[theprettynosferatu]

State of The Blog, February 2025, or As I Type This

CW: Politics, general downer.

I promised myself I wouldn't write about this. Guess this post makes me a liar, aside from a humble kink-maker. I also promised myself I wouldn't complain, and that I won't do. Things are fine. Texts are being written. The smut is flowing, even if slowly- or less rapidly than either of us would like, dear reader.

Now... shit sure is fucked, huh? Not the most eloquent way of putting it, I know. But who has time for rhetoric these days? And I'm not even American! But I happen to know that a large portion of my little corner o'smut here hails from the USA. I have lived there myself. I have, perhaps, something of a romantic streak when it comes to what America could be. Sadly, it's not what it could be that we have to deal with.

Things are moving quickly. This is not by accident.

As I type this, the richest man in the world has gathered an unfathomable trove of data from the US government. Illegally, of course, but it appears such things no longer matter.

As I type this, information on gender and trans issues is being erased from government websites.

As I type this, self-ID is no longer a thing for my non-binary and transgender American friends, acquaintances and readers.

As I type this, ICE is raiding workplaces, schools, churches.

As I type this, someone has lost funding for life-changing research.

As I type this. the US is getting into a trade war on three fronts. All casualties in this war will be, as is always the case, the working people. On all sides.

The casualties of all these things will not be heralded. They will not the announced or published. They will be silent, in the form of people rationing medicine they need to live, getting sick from the cold and not being able to afford a doctor, perhaps choosing to not go on anymore in a world that seems to scream in their face that they don't matter, they are not wanted, they are Other.

You are shocked and traumatized because that's the point. To shock you into paralysis, so you won't have the bandwidth or time or energy to react- your reaction is what they fear.

I am nothing important. I make stuff to get people off. What right to I have to say anything to anyone who is really suffering? What the fuck can I do? Provide some escapism? Perhaps. It is useful, insofar as burning out on doomer shit helps absolutely no one. I'm nowhere near a front line, so to speak. Perhaps I'm being delusional thinking I am contributing something worth fuck all to people, but hey, I can do delusion. Or hope. It's hard to tell them apart sometimes.

I can't tell you to fight. I can't start preaching about the importance of community. I can't tell you what to do. It's not my place, and it's not my expertise. I'm not here to play armchair resistance, and neither are you. You are here for kink, and so kink I shall give you.

But I couldn't do the State of the Blog and let this go unremarked. As futile as it may be, as stupid as it sounds (and I am aware of the ass I'm making out of myself here), I just wanted you all to know you ARE wanted, you CAN handle this. Shit is bleak. But it won't be bleak forever, because YOU won't let it. The dawn is in your hands. And when you need a break and want to read smut, I'll be here.

Oh, and before I go, just in case anyone isn't clear:

Fuck off fascists.

Fuck off transphobes.

Fuck off xenophobes.

Fuck off racists.

Fuck off real sexists.

Life is not on your side, you absolute dogfuckers. It never has been, and it never will be.

[bwat5-blog]

Saw your post about Marcus and Caitlyn on the bridge and it made me think about how that could have influenced her choices when she formed her strike team in 2x01.

Because that team consisted of:

Steb, who has medical training and the only time we see him use a rifle is in the finale battle

Maddie, a "junior officer", so probably hasn't been an enforcer for long

Loris, who we don't even know if he actually was an enforcer before the stike team (unless someone has confirmed this)

and Vi (no explanation needed there)

Because not only did Marcus, her former boss who was also her former mentor's second-in-command, shoot Ekko and point a gun at her, but the squad of Enforcers behind him didn't even flinch or move to stop him.

Caitlyn was a Councillor's daughter, and they would have let Marcus kill her on Silco's orders and cover it up without batting an eye. On top of that, she used to work with these people too! (hell, her "firing" was so recent it's possible they didnt even know she wasnt an enforcer anymore) She's realized that the rot goes all the way to the top, so how could she trust anyone within the Enforcers to not turn on her?

Like, we all talk about the trauma Jinx put her through, but I haven't seen much on how much of what happened on the bridge before the explosion would have affected her. Because the Enforcers are (supposed to be) protectors. But now she has to contend with the fact that most Enforcers treat the undercity like shit, and she has no idea which ones/how many are actually in the pocket of crimelords.

What are your thoughts on this?

Oh man this is all excellent and something I had not even really looked at.

Regarding the strike team all I had ever really considered was those individuals had fought beside her during the memorial attack but your point makes complete sense. People who barely knew her, not entrenched Enforcers fought by her side without a moments hesitation and helped save the other councilors. She would have been totally unable to trust those more experienced Enforcers after what happened on the bridge, but these people proved themselves in a moment when they didn't have to.

And yea I agree. I know there was SO MUCH going on that played into her falling prey to Ambessa's plans, but there had to be some part of her that thought "my people deserve safety and peace, and I cannot trust the people in charge anymore to deliver it".

Thank you for sharing this! I really appreciate it.

[irazai]

─▸ ONE LAST TIME ; osamu dazai x fem!reader

masterlist. prev. next.

03 ❝ MY HEART BEATS AGAIN ❞

"don't say that silly," dazai whispers as he tries to keep his carefree expression on his face, trying not to show how sad he feels. "don't say you won't take my name ever."

he smiles as he looks down to pick on the fabric of his pants, trying to keep himself grounded to reality. to not do something in the high of his emotions which he will regret later.

he has good control over his emotions. he really does.

but once in a while even he can't control how he feels when life drags him by his neck and tells him, look, all the people around you are moving on just fine. why can't you? why are you still so ugly inside?

today this statement came in the form of you and your daughter, he thinks she is no older then four because he left when you were pregnant. actually, on the day you told him you were.

he was doing something with atsushi, probably some small errands regarding documents because lord, there are alot. especially since they caught dostoyvesky.

the younger boy was telling him how fascinating their jobs are — the government unit handling the paperwork — when dazai's eyes averted to a point of the bustling street ahead to see you.

it is you. he didn't need to second guess because your face is engrained in his veins, your features flow through his spinal fluid every night to make sure he doesn't forget you. his support system. he thinks he might love you. or maybe it was the teenage romance which was so thrilling for a while?

you two aren't teenagers anymore. one glance down to see who you were looking at and dazai feels as if someone jerked him roughly. the little baby (she may not be a baby anymore but to dazai who missed her baby years, she is) is definitely his. that shade of brown hair is one he is familiar with after all. it belongs to him.

you were listening to something she was saying, the baby was excited, jumping lightly on her feet as she exclaimed whatever caught her interest. dazai nearly smiled at the sight.

he walked past you two, without you knowing he was there. at all. because people like him don't get to stay in your presence for long, he is afraid he will taint your light.

there was a small 'oh, i left them' kind of feeling at first. mostly he was giddy at seeing you, he wanted to laugh and dance.

then the way you slowly took over his mind happened very slowly, really.

he remembers coming back to the agency and stretching his arms over his head while atsushi told kunikida their task is done. as they talked (and between comments from kunikida who looks annoyed like usual), it suddenly occurred to dazai if you still liked dates on the beach.

oh well, who knows? maybe you moved on.

then as he sat on his chair or laid his head on his desk, he began to wonder more and more. his thoughts drifted to the baby. how would she sound like? is she like him or more like you? what's her favorite colour?

he's in a daze, as if his body is being controlled by someone else when he stands up all too suddenly. startling atsushi who was infront of him.

what excuse did he mutter to kunikida? he doesn't remember as he leaves the building in a hurry. he walks over to the street he saw you and your daughter on but you two aren't there anymore obviously.

this is where it dawns on him that he isn't a part of your or her life. he should not be so happy upon seeing you, you will definitely not be happy to see him.

it is now that he actually realises you aren't chuuya or the mafia or anyone else in his life. you are an average citizen. him leaving isn't something you will treat lightly. you aren't fucked up like them.

like him.

he blinks as a kid runs past him, to think his own might do it someday. unaware that who she passed is her own father.

this is a very uncomfortable realisation. he forgot about the kid and now when he remembers her, he is aware she might forget him.

this cluster of emotions leads him to bar lupin. not because it was close to where he is or anything. but because here is the comforting lingering presence of oda.

he drinks and drinks, orders drinks upon drinks to drown and float under the influence of alcohol.

laying his head on the bar table, dazai drunkly mumbles to himself, "what if she forgot me too? but why can't she? never gave her a reason to remember me."

dazai sighs, "but still. she loves me right? she won't forget me right?" he asks to no one in particular. "what if she does?"

dazai doesn't really have regrets, he is made up of them but he knows how to ignore them well (the smaller ones, he is really attending to the bigger ones) and you weren't a big regret or that's what he used to think.

while he has no desire of meeting you again for your sake (he thinks it's better if you move on from a piece of shit like him, he doesn't want you to hurt more because of him), something in him changed when he saw you and his daughter.

the sudden urge to meet you, the sudden craving to hold his daughter, to tell you how he feels as if he isn't real sometimes, to ask you how you have been till now is strong.

it's so strong, so unbearable. not even alcohol is able to suppress this urge. so he sits straight to think of a plan, an ideal situation which he can play off as coincidence while also pondering if this is actually a good idea or not.

he is selfish. he wishes you to move forwards but he doesn't at the same time.

this man, as a lover, is a walking contradiction.

what if you aren't happy when you two finally meet? if you are angry, he can handle it but what if you pretend to forget him? (pretend because he knows you can't forget him like he can't forget you.)

what if you do anyway?

he doesn't want you to forget him, the way you softly say his name, how your eyes soften when you looked at him, how you smiled when you saw him. he doesn't want you to forget him.

drunk mind weaves his memories of you into a person, a hallucination of you. a you who refuses to call him 'osamu' or even dazai. calling him, 'detective' instead.

"don't say that silly," dazai whispers as he tries to keep his carefree expression on his face, trying not to show how sad he feels. "don't say you won't take my name ever."

he can feel eyes on him from the nearby customers, they should not be judging a drunk guy who is drowning in his misery. alas they are, so he has no choice but hold his sanity and composure in shaky hands.

he smiles as he looks down to pick on the fabric of his pants, trying to keep himself grounded to reality. to not do something in the high of his emotions which he will regret later.

dazai makes a decision.

[cloverapple]

hiii! i came across your blog yesterday, and i love your advice. that's why i feel like you would be the best person to ask these questions that I've been having for the longest time (sorry, long read ahead).

I've studied LOA for the past 2 years or so, and even though i have a good understanding of it, there are some things that always trip me up when it comes to shifting.

how do i deal with waking up to the 3d? yes, by assuming that you are in your dr and that you shifted last night. that's the most logical answer. but even though i know that, sometimes it is a lot easier said than done. for example, a few days ago i wanted to manifest shifting by simply deciding i could shift on command and that i am there. i could be 100% sure the day before that it would happen. the whole day, and even a few days after that I'd stay in that state of being a master shifter, and i would feel amazing because of it. but it's like there always comes a point where i wake up to the 3d and i get discouraged (yes, i acknowledge that i am manifesting that reality by saying this, but i finally have to get this off my chest). my thoughts get all messed up and i start spiraling, returning to my previous state. i start questioning myself a bit and feel down. the main reason for that being time.

it took me so so long to figure out this issue about myself. I'd be like: how long is it gonna take? when will it happen? i know i have it in the 4d but when will it appear in the 3d? having it in the 4d isn't enough, i need to have it in the 3d right now. stuff like that. i find it very difficult to formulate my thoughts, but basically I'm in a spiral of:

watching a video/reading a post about LOA/shifting that reminds me of how easy it is -> applying LOA to shifting/any desire in a way that feels good for a few days at most -> starting to question myself after a few days because it hasn't shown up yet in the 3d (which is caused by me forgetting the role the 3d plays and how LOA works) even though i did everything "right" (e.g. letting go of control or the outcome, deciding, not wavering, etc.) -> falling back into a state where i question how i can shift, what i am doing wrong, etc. -> repeat

how can i break out of this cycle?

i think the main problem here is time and in general the 3d.

i know that the 3d is not a measure of my success, only made up of my current assumptions etc. i know that. but it's like i forget it once i step into the state i wanna be in and stay there for an extended period of time.

i always hear people say that "time isn't real" but i still don't really know what that means, how to apply it or how to internalize it. i really need that mental "click" to finally understand it and use that concept in my favor. because my problem is that with manifesting/shifting, after a while i start asking questions about why it's taking so long the 3d. for example, most nights i fall asleep with the assumption that I'll wake up in my dr (while letting go of control and not wavering) the next morning. but when it doesn't happen eventually, i start to question why, because since time comes from consciousness aka me, it should work in my favor.

I'm honestly so lost right now and i would really appreciate some help because I'm spiraling again. I've known about shifting since 2020 but only realized how ridiculously easy it is after joining tumblr this year and yup, i acknowledge that i am desperate to shift, preferably right now. it's not something i admit to anyone or myself because that's basically continuing to tell a story i don't want to experience (a surefire way to fail), but it is unfortunately the truth as of right now.

thank you for reading, i know this was a lot to get through!! (*^^*)

So pause for a second, because I’m going to tell you something I hope to ingrain in the mind of everyone who sends me an ask—and that you need to remember before reading everything I’m about to say:

YOU ALREADY KNOW HOW TO SHIFT. The ability is inside you right now. The moment you read this, your mind already knows how to shift. Everyone does.

The moment you accept this, you solve half of your problems.

And then you tell me, "But if I know how to shift, why isn’t the 3D reflecting that?"

Well, yeah. You painted the house, and now you’re sitting there watching the paint dry.

Look, watching the 3D closely and looking for results isn’t a problem for some people. Some can assume, “I’m already in my DR,” open their eyes, and BAM—they’re in their DR.

Some people assume, “I will shift tonight,” and just like that, they shift that night.

Some people let go of their DRs, stop putting them on a pedestal, and they shift.

Some people clutch their DRs close to their heart until their knuckles turn white—and they shift.

It sounds a lot like you’re forcing yourself into a method of applying the Law of Assumption that doesn’t serve you. Why?? If you recognize that your issue is focusing on time and constantly checking the 3D, work around it. Remove time from your shifting journey.

I don’t like assuming I already have something, then checking the 3D and not seeing it there. Hell, I can shift on command, and yet, if I were to lay in bed right now and tell myself, “I’m in my DR,” I guarantee you I wouldn’t shift. Why? Because that doesn’t work for me.

My dude, change the way you affirm. If affirming in the present (“I already shifted”) doesn’t work for you, change it! Say, “I’m going to shift.” If even that hasn’t been working, let go of implementing time into your affirmations.

Change “I’m going to wake up in my DR in the morning” to “I’m going to wake up in my DR at some point because I KNOW I can shift.”

Change “I’m in my DR right now” to “I can’t wait to be in my DR.”

Remove time from your affirmations and assumptions, because that’s clearly the problem here. Instead of trusting that you’ll shift tonight, trust yourself because you already know how to shift. Or trust your mind because it knows how to shift. Trust your awareness because it knows how to shift.

“I fall asleep with the assumption that I'll wake up in my DR (while letting go of control and not wavering) the next morning.”

If this were completely true, you wouldn’t be sending me this ask. You wouldn’t be doubting yourself as much as you just did in everything you typed. Truly letting go means releasing the need to see results in the 3D.

So, take time out of your assumptions. From now on, say “I will shift.” Or say, “I already know how to shift.”

Your brain then goes: “……???….uh….” looking at the 3D all confused “When? We haven't shifted!”

And you tell it, “It doesn’t fucking matter because I’m going to shift eventually.”

Now, let’s say hypothetically, one week passes and you haven’t shifted. One month passes, and you haven’t shifted. Two months pass, and you haven’t shifted.

And then you come back and say, “Clover, why the heck haven’t I shifted yet? It’s been (insert amount of time). You told me to remove time as an expectation, so why haven’t I shifted yet??”

And I’ll smile at you and ask, “So you’ve been counting the days?”

Let me tell you something about letting go—and hypothetically, ignoring the 3D.

Treat your ability to shift like your fortune. You have a fortune sitting in your bank account right now, and you’re rich. Do you think a rich person checks their bank account every hour to confirm they’re still rich?

"Well yeah, Clover, because a rich person’s reality already reflects that, they’re sitting in a mansion with all their riches."

Your fortune, what makes you rich, is your ability to shift. You already know how to shift. Shifting isn’t something you learn how to do, just like breathing isn’t something you learn how to do. Just like chewing isn’t something you learn how to do. It is an integral part of every human being. If you have awareness, then the ability to shift exists within you.

You don’t learn shifting—you learn yourself.

You learn what makes you shift. What makes you manifest easily. What makes you assume easily. What kind of affirmations your subconscious doesn’t argue against. What makes your self-concept skyrocket.

Because everyone is different, everyone shifts differently. What works for Person A might not work for Person B. What works for Person B might not work for Person C, and so on.

Even my reply to you, it might not resonate with you. But that’s not my fault, and it’s not yours. If that's the case, your job is to look elsewhere—and, in the best-case scenario, look internally because that’s where the answers always are.

Let’s go over your fix options because I just yapped a lot:

YOU ALREADY KNOW HOW TO SHIFT.

Remove time from your affirmations and assumptions. Removing time from your shifting process makes it so you have nowhere in the 3D to look.

Stop paying attention to the 3D and pay attention to yourself because what’s going to shift is your awareness, not the damn 3D. Every time you catch yourself thinking, “Oh, but it’s not showing up in the 3D,” remind yourself:

A) You already know how to shift.

B) Shifting is something you can do.

C) It could happen at any moment, so why should anything else matter?

If you were promised a million bucks from a 100% trustworthy source, would you spiral?

One more thing before I wrap this up:

It could be that actively using the Law of Assumption isn’t what works best for you. Maybe you work better with visualizing. Maybe you induce the feeling of being in your DR or being a "master shifter." Maybe subliminals work better for you. There is a world of options out there, and it is completely useless to force yourself to do something that's only bringing frustration in the end. Because there is no singular way to shift. There is no singular way to manifest. And sometimes—for some people—while the Law of Assumption is always true, focusing on it directly isn’t what serves you.