#and also sorry for deleting my post from four years ago Tumblr posts

[silver-1eaves]

can i stand in your light just for a while?

[wolpatinga]

[delimeful]

Really? You don’t find passive aggressive comments, such as your tags, do be impolite?

And how, exactly, is an ask button (which YOU enabled) that is commonly known to be used for requesting stories on Tumblr from writing pages impolite? Are you new to writing Tumblr? What do you think a majority of writers on Tumblr use that ask button for?

I’ve been a follower for a while but I’m pretty dissapointed tbh.

Anonymous asked: I noticed a reply from @/gstash So let me address that as well. No, of course I don’t expect everything immediately and for free, and I initially requested this story over a year ago. I also spent over $50 being subscribed to Lime’s Patreon specifically for this story, but I had to stop due to low finances. I was just trying to check on when it may be up soon, but I felt the response was rather rude.

(the added slash is mine, i didn't want to inadvertently @ anyone else in this debacle lol)

this is gonna be my final word on the matter because im sick of getting home from work to asks like these. anything else is gonna be deleted. feel free to go ahead and use your actual blog to reply instead of anon if you still feel that strongly about it.

i dont think my tags weren't passive aggressive they were just plain statements. no, i don't think it's impolite to express a boundary irt people asking me for updates. your indignation about this reflects on you, not me.

to clarify, badgering me for updates (verbatim: "Could you please please please post chapter 7") isn't impolite, just irritating. it was the decision to send another ask chiding me for my response that was impolite. kind of a dick move, as most involved in the tumblr writing community know. i genuinely feel sorry for the writers you follow if you genuinely only see their ask boxes as an opportunity to pester them.

i'm disappointed too, anon. i hoped that maybe keeping calm and sincerely explaining myself would be enough to prompt you to respond with empathy in kind, but instead you doubled down.

it seems like there's been a misunderstanding in regards to my patreon; there is no tier that ensures a specific chapter of a fic is updated within a specific time frame. that would be a commission, which is explicitly listed as a reward for my $30 tier, because those take a lot more time + energy for me.

my $12 patreon tier offers early access to my writing, and the ability to request future chapters be moved up on my to-do list, through polls + priority continuation requests. i can't guarantee any specific chapter update in a month, and i'll explain why.

currently, i have over 50 total WIP fics being worked on. each month, i get around 25 chapter update requests. even assuming that each chapter is 2k, my usual minimum chapter length, i would have to write 50,000 words every single month. if i had the capability for that kind of regular output, i would be churning out books like stephen king instead of constantly struggling for my usual monthly 10-15k like a chump lol.

in essence, don't subscribe to my patreon for a specific story unless you know the next chapter for it is already up there. which it is, because i eventually got to your request. and it'll eventually be up on the blog for free. and during the months you spent subscribed to my patreon, you received at minimum tens of thousands of words of content.

finally, an earnest request: please stop acting like twelve dollars is an exorbitant fee when i'm literally making pennies per word written. like, i could have worked a single 8 hour shift at mcdonalds in texas for minimum wage instead and i would have ended up with $8 more than you paid me for four months of many hours of dedicated work.

(not even a joke: 7.25 x 8 = 58.)

in conclusion, i am a human person with feelings, just like every other writer on this site. please take a moment to remember that when sending asks in the future

[theidiotwhowritesthings]

I am IN LOVE with your writing!  I’m a dedicated reader! 💓💓 thanks for taking the time to do it!

Hear me out. Reader pulls a 24 hour shift in the local clinic on a busy day and we get a protective worried din?

He would also be busy but he would definitely pull reader out and make her take a nap AT LEAST. 😂 anyway, I just thought that would be cute to think about.

I hope you have a wonderful day and keep up the good work! 

[a/n: anybody wanna guess how many times it took me to try and post this b/c tumblr wanted to keep glitching and destroying it?? FUCKING FOUR. lord, im gonna go scream in a pillow. anyways, thanks anon for the great idea! also pls consider this my apology for the cliffhanger that i am so sorry (but not really) for.]

'A FRESH START' DELETED SCENE

Din Djarin x Female!Reader

Warnings: reader overworks herself, mentions of injuries (burns specifically) but not in great detail

Word Count: 1,934

Summary: Everyone needs a break, and Din is hell bent on ensuring you don't skip yours.

#MID 17: TAKE A BREAK, DOC

[so not between chapters, but a scene within one of the time breaks in chapter 17.]

.

"be with someone who will take care of you. not materialistically but take care of your soul, your well being, your heart, and everything that's you." -unknown

.

Trying to get the emergency clinic established was not easy. You agreed to the job, and Karga had given you free reign. The High Magistrate was essentially allowing you to run the clinic as you saw fit. Which in part was fantastic because it gave you incredible freedom, but it was also your worst nightmare. All your training had taught you was how to handle the medical aspect of an office. The business and organization side was a whole other issue. Especially because the people of Nevarro were not understanding that this was for emergencies only. 

“My ankle hurts.”

“Alright, when did this start? When did you get hurt?”

“I twisted it while jogging three years ago.”

“You⏤ Wait, what?”

In order for this to work the way it needed to, you’d have to focus on actual emergencies only. Alone you would never be able to handle the patient load that would come with servicing an entire city. Plus, you really didn’t want to. The amount of time it would take to even attempt that was insane, and Din needed your help with Grogu.

So, the plan would be to establish that this clinic was emergencies only, emphasize it to everyone who walked in the door, but for today you’d manage all the small, routine problems.

Just for today.

By lunch time, you had already seen 47 patients. None of which were emergent. In fact, the biggest injury was a young man who had dropped a glass plate at home and accidentally cut his hand. He needed four stitches. 

“Aayla?”

“Four more in the waiting room, doctor!” Aayla called out without even having to be asked the question. She was a gift from the Maker today. Already, you had decided to try training her more in depth medically and hire someone else to work the front desk. “You also have a guest.

“What?” You breathed, barely able to catch her words.

Aayla didn’t need to repeat herself because that was the moment Din swept into the room with the same confident strut he naturally seemed to have. At the sight of him, you couldn’t help but let out a sigh of relief as your lips curled up into a smile.

“What is going on?” Din asked as he drifted closer to you. There were still two patients sitting on cots waiting for you to finish with them, but Din commandeered your attention by settling his hand on your lower back and staring down at you. Even through the helmet you could feel his concerned gaze. “Why are you so busy? I thought you were hired for emergencies only.”

“I was, but apparently nobody told all of Nevarro that.”

Din stiffened. “Did Karga⏤”

“No. I don’t think he tricked me into this or that this was on purpose.” You said quickly. “And everyone who comes in, I’m telling them that from now on it’s emergencies only.”

“But today?”

“Today, I am seeing every Nevarro citizen.” You chuckled. “You want a check up, Mando?”

“Ner kar’ta,” Din shook his head, “Have you taken any breaks at all?” You shot him a sheepish smile. “Come. Let’s get lunch.”

“I can’t. I’ll just get further behind.” You mumbled. Din looked like he was ready to argue with you. In fact, his hands even drifted to his hips as his head tilted. You had seen him take on the same stance before lecturing Grogu. You wrapped your hands around his forearm and gave him the most reassuring smile you could muster. “It’s fine. I’m just sorry I’m bailing on you for lunch.” He sighed. “You poor thing, now you’ll have to spend more time with Mayfeld.”

Din huffed and you chuckled. Aayla called out that more people were filling the space, and for a second you thought the Mandalorian Marshal was considering sending everybody home just so you could have a moment for lunch. You squeezed his forearm. 

“Fine.” Din grumbled.

“Also, I know this won’t help my argument or convince you of anything, but,” You scrunched your nose with a small wince, “Do you think you can pick up Grogu today?”

Din seemed taken aback based on his voice alone, “How long do you plan on staying?”

You knew his question was one more focused on the concern of you staying here for too long versus him being upset that you couldn’t get Grogu. When you shot him another sheepish smile he just grumbled under his breath in Mando’a. Din caught you off guard by leaning forward to lightly rest his forehead against yours for a second. 

“This conversation isn’t over.” Din said simply and you just chuckled in response.

He squeezed your hand once before leaving and you were forced to return to the patients you had. Ten minutes passed at the most, you got two patients out with Aayla’s help, when Din’s heavy footfalls returned. You glanced over your shoulder to see he was holding a bag of food. He crossed the space to set the bag in your hands and you peered in to see it was your favorite sandwich from the local shop. Your eyes glanced back up at him with a grin. The warmth of being seen and known settling in your chest.

“Eat.” Din said firmly.

“Thank you.” You replied. “I’ll eat it as soon as⏤”

“No.” He interrupted. A tilt to his head and a challenge in his voice. “I’m not leaving until I watch you take a few bites. At the least.”

You rolled your eyes, in good nature, and handed him the bag so you could wash your hands in the sink off to the side. On your way back to Din, you asked Aayla to bandage one patient’s knee and get imaging of another patient’s hand. Din had already pulled out your sandwich to set on the desk you had brought into the corner. Before you could reach for it, Din pointed to the desk chair. With a chuckle you dropped down into the seat, the first time you were off your feet all morning, and only then did Din push the sandwich toward you. 

“Thanks.” You said after your first bite. More sincere than your last. Din was leaning against the desk beside you. Close enough that your arm could press against his thigh if you moved it over even an inch. “You didn’t have to do this.”

“Apparently, I did.” Din chuckled. “Otherwise, you wouldn’t have eaten at all.”

You couldn't argue. Instead, you just shook your head, “Not gonna lie, I always did have a bad habit of getting caught up in my work.”

“Why does that not surprise me?”

“Doctor, can you take a look at this?” Aayla called out.

You quickly took one last, large bite of your sandwich before standing. Din pushed off the desk to tower over you again. He nodded. “I’ll pick up Grogu, but if you’re not home by 5 I’m coming back to drag you home.”

“Is that a threat or a promise?” You teased.

Din leaned over to lightly tap his forehead against yours and you chuckled. He reached over to pick up your sandwich and held it up towards you. You raised an eyebrow at him, but he didn’t budge. Rolling your eyes, you leaned over and took another bite. Holding a hand over your mouth, tucking the food into your cheek, you spoke. “Happy?”

“Yes. Be careful. Message me if you need anything.”

You watched him leave with a bemused smile.

Never before had you been so acutely aware of the saying ‘when it rains, it pours’. Today had already been stressful and busy so it would make sense that at 4:25 in the afternoon an actual emergency rolled in. Nothing to test and stretch your skills like having to handle a trauma case after a full day of working. There had been an incident, on the other side of this world deep in the lava plains, where a group of smugglers got a bit too close to a river of lava with their weapons and nearly blew one another sky high. 

The least injured of the three had flown them in. She had some superficial burns all along her left side. Then the other two had third degree burns that required some serious fluid replacement. You didn’t stop working, barely paused to take a breath, until all three were stable and resting comfortably. Only then did you drop down into your desk’s chair and rest your head on your arms with a sigh. 

About twenty minutes later, a pair of hands settled on your shoulders, squeezing in comfort, and you would’ve been startled if you didn’t recognize the creak of Din’s leather with the comforting smell of his flight suit’s detergent and the polish used on his beskar. 

“What time is it?” You groaned.

“8:42.”

“You’re nearly four hours late.”

Din squeezed your shoulders once more before letting a hand settle on the back of your neck. You found the weight of it grounded you. “I got here at 4:50. Saw you were busy with something important. Left then came back.” His thumb caressed your skin, and you pushed your head up to glance at him. Din had the hand not on your neck resting on the desk. “You alright?”

“Just tired.” You mumbled and rubbed your face with one hand. “Grogu?”

“He’s with Peli. Missed you at dinner though.” Din replied. “He acts up when you’re not around.”

“No, no. He’s a perfect angel, always.”

Din snorted at that, and the sound made you chuckle. You glanced over at the cots that held the three smugglers who slept soundly. All their vitals still stable. Din’s hand slipped down to rub your upper back soothingly. “You coming home?”

“I can’t. Not until the emergency shuttle gets here to pick those three up.” You sighed. “They have to be at a facility with a higher level of care than just me.”

“‘Just you’ saved their lives.”

“You know what I mean.” You shrugged. “You should go though.” Din tilted his head. “There’s no telling how long it’ll take for the ship to get here. I already sent Aayla home. I’m just babysitting right now. You should pick up Grogu and head home. Get some sleep.”

Din shook his head as if it were the stupidest thing you had ever said. He gently wrapped his hand around your upper arm and pulled you up from your seat. You let him drag you along to the fourth cot in the room which was currently empty. “You sleep. I’ll babysit.” 

“Din…”

He lightly pushed down on your shoulders until you were seated on the cot. You stared up at him in question, but he just shook his head. “If something changes with their status I’ll wake you.” Din pushed you down a little further so you were laying down. The moment your body hit the relatively soft bed you felt yourself sink into it with exhaustion. Din went to walk, but you grabbed his hand and tugged him toward the cot as well.

“You can babysit while laying down, can’t you?”

“My armor isn’t gonna be much of a pillow.”

“Neither is this cot.”

Din chuckled and dropped down to lay beside you. You rested your head on his chest, the cool metal of the beskar biting into your warm cheek, and just sighed. It hadn’t occurred to you how tired you truly were until now. Din had an arm wrapped around you so he could grasp your shoulder with his hand and use his thumb to trace patterns there.

“Take a break, doc.” Din hummed. “I got you.”

taglist:

@aheadfullofsteverogers @yyiikes @kneelforloki @c-ms1ut @sgt-morgan @luthienaliceisilra @fawn-kitten @missbabyjay @coldlamaspersonspy @dilfsaremyfavourite @jamesbuckybarnes @yorkeylover @teawrites01 @emily-roberts @djarinxore @impala1967666 @shelbyteller @faithrenner @dindjarindude @dankfarrick29 @rh1nestonecowg1rl @garbo-lesbo @anythingforattention @tearfulsolace @onceinamando @catharinaroxastova @uwu-i-purple-you @modiddys-blog @stagerightlauren @mini-bees @xxinvisblexx @adoringanakin @sagegreensensei @spidey-3 @sydney-1209 @thepascalofus @hrtsforpascal @banana-lol @daybleedsintonightfall11 @lil-dragon-draws @guccistardust @ideajpeg @harriedandharassed @leithatnight @elfamosotoga @damnzelsoul @the-anchored-sailor-girl @morks-watermelon @katelynmarieyt @taylorann2013 @chonkercatto @dheet @liadamerondjarin @fallinallinmendes @missdicaprio @jennaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa @alphaash99 @djarinsmixtape @pcrushinnerd @closedaddition @thelovelyhann @harrys-sunflower-bakery @mayaaaaah @theway-thisis

[turtletaubwrites]

I've got the bad brains sometimes, and I hope you don't mind. Please scroll by if you don't want to see a personal/mental health update/vent.

Medical leave is over, and I've noticed that with stress ramping up, my OCD symptoms are also flaring.

I had pretty much stopped using any form social media for the past few years because of OCD. I feel an intense pressure to make sure that every single thing I put out into the world is perfect, and won't hurt or offend anyone, to the point where I will ruminate and fixate over a single exclamation point in a text message for hours/days (and often just give up and decide to never interact again), etc.

I realized lately that since I started writing 4 months ago, I've been super afraid to read fics from my wonderful fellow writers if it involves characters I'm currently writing about because I'm terrified of accidentally stealing ideas. But now I'm feeling guilty that I haven't been as supportive and interactive as I should or want to be, and I don't know how to balance those conflicting feelings without seeming disingenuous. Plus, I'm still so terrified of stealing ideas, I'm not sure how to cope with that one yet.

I've also been feeling guilty because I've gained so many followers so quickly, and I know that it's only because I was on medical leave and hyperfixated on this, and wrote so many things so fast.

I'm trying to work through it, but unfortunately my ADHD diagnosis has prevented me from making a lot of progress since I had to drop my exposure response prevention therapy because I couldn't remember to do the things.

Not to mention the fact that the only reason I was able to start writing four months ago was because I had my first bipolar episode since being diagnosed and medicated for 3 years. The imposter syndrome monster has been growing stronger.

I'm sorry for the vent. I just really love it here. And I'm afraid with my symptoms acting up, I might get too freaked out to be seen by the world.

I'm afraid I'll get even more scared than I already am to try to make friends. I'm afraid I will question everything I write until I can't post a single thing. I'm afraid I'll disappear from here just like I have from so many other lovely places because of the weight that my brain puts on every action, every word, and every inaction, every single thing that I do that could be perceived by others.

Being here, writing, and sharing has meant so much to me, and it saved me during medical leave. Interacting with people here has been wonderful, and I wish I was comfortable enough to reach out more.

Thank you for reading this. I'm just fighting the OCD real bad right now, and I really don't want it to stop me from writing and being here with all of you.

(Posting this and not deleting it will be good ocd work. Just gotta not drive myself insane over it.)

(Come on Lynna, you've read and edited this too many times already. Just post it.)

[beigepillow]

Regarding your last post, I've seen a lot of people of the fandom dividing after chapter 58, too. Each chapter since the timeskip, D has been receiving a lot of criticism, but this time is even worse. I know his actions are not right at all, and the analysis we have from him is based on speculations because we don't know that much about what he thinks or feels.

I also wanted to share something that I have been thinking since I re-read the story. I love both characters, and I don't lean towards one more than the other, I have 2 years following the story, and I wonder if Y received the same criticism as D when he did what he did four years ago. They both have done questionable things throughout the story, and none of them should be excused for what they've done or what they are doing now. I know we tend to empathize more with Y because he is the narrator and the person that we know more about compared to D, but we shouldn't forget that D has his own trauma and issues with sex too. What Y did four years ago was to protect himself and the person he loves from his own perspective and his own way, but what if D is doing the same thing four years after. I tend to think that he is protecting Y from what he thinks( even if it's the wrong way and it's actually causing Y the opposite effect to some extent, but D precisely doesn't know this at all) but he's is also protecting himself because the way Y took him away from his life and how he pretended to forget D, might have been another trauma for D. They both seem to be waiting for the other to give clear signals, but their own traumas cause fears inside them and prevent them from communication. They both are afraid of rejection, and they are both dealing with that.

I'm sorry that it was too long😅

I ended up deleting the post this was in reference to but this can be a good discussion to have. I completely agree that Doumeki is acting in ways to protect himself. I have a few posts about that but it has been a while since I wrote on that topic. I am not sure how the reaction was on volume 6 since I wasn’t really on social media at the time and I probably wasn’t even a part of the saezuru fandom yet lol. At the end of the day, they’re both extremely flawed characters that deserve empathy. Doumeki is still reeling from what happened 4 years ago but he still wants to be a part of Yashiro’s life just like Yashiro wants to be a part of his. You bring up a really good point that Doumeki may be doing something similar to what Yashiro did 4 years ago. I love these kinds of takes that don’t demonize either characters. It is important to keep in mind that if you want to defend Doumeki, you don’t have to attack Yashiro. Yashiro definitely deserves some criticism but I still think he deserves a real chance at love and happiness just as Doumeki does as well. It is important to recognize that Doumeki is very stoic right now which makes it even easier to write off his feelings. On a personal note, when I was younger, my parents used to hit me whenever I cried too much and as a result I learned to hold back my emotions. But as a result of holding back my emotions, people think I am not as affected by certain things. I see that part of myself in Doumeki. Yashiro may not have hit Doumeki but there was a certain lack of safety whenever he expressed his feelings to Yashiro and now he prefers to hide those very feelings. It is not a punishment to Yashiro but rather Doumeki trying to protect himself.

[lildevyl]

Hey, Guys, Gals, Demons, Ghouls and Multi-Fandom Fiends!

This isn't a theory as a matter-of-fact it's going to be long but I need to get this out there. So, I have been on this decision for the past week. And here it is. So, we all know what's been going on with the whole William "Wilbur Soot" Gold situation that's been all over YouTube, Twitter, and just about any other Social Media Platform out there. I'm 100% behind Shelby/Shubble. I think she was very brave in coming out against what she experienced so, please go show her some support.

With that said, I know many people on here have either made the decision to either,

A) Orphaned or Delete their FanFics that have c!Wilbur Soot in them. If have decided to do that, your decision is valid and I fully respect your decision.

B) Have decided to stop writing anything with c!Wilbur Soot in them. If you have decided to do that, your decision is valid and I fully respect your decision.

C) Have decided to continue to write c!Wilbur Soot because it was never about the Content Creators, but the Characters that we, the fans, have created ourselves. If you have decided to do that, your decision is valid and I fully respect your decision.

So, with that said, I'm sure many people have been wondering about what I'm going to do. Here's my decision on this.

What I'm going to do:

I'm going to continue to write. Tommy Innit's Secret Clinic is still going to be written. As selfish as this is going to sound, it was never about the Content Creator William "Wilbur Soot" Gold who owns the YouTube/Twitch Channel. But it was always, always, always, about the character he played. I love c!Wilbur Soot from the Earth SMP, Dream SMP, and Origins SMP. I even love the character he plays in Sorry Boys. And that's the Character I will be writing!

I know when I first joined the DSMP, it was already starting to go downhill. By that time, Covid was over, and the "Over Night Success" of the DSMP was over for a lot of fans. To the point, if you were still a fan of the DSMP during the Prison Arc and beyond then you were in the "So 5 Minutes Ago"/Cringe Territory. I also know that serval people have stopped writing, and got out of the DSMP/MCYT Community when Technoblade passed away. I can't blame them since many fans started watching the DSMP b/c of Techno and why bother watching something if the reason you even started is no longer there. I fully respect everyone's decision on that. And I know now that so many people will be leaving b/c of this being the "Last Nail in the Coffin" for a lot of people. Again I fully respect your decision if you decide to never write c!Wilbur Soot or just straight leave the Fandom entirely.

But I'm not. I'm not leaving. c!Wilbur Soot belongs to us fans and yes, this is 100% selfish of me, but I'll be damned if I let someone take away something that I find so much joy in doing! I've been writing FanFicion for the last 30 years and have been posting for the last 20 years.

I've been in many different fandoms and yes, many of them have had pretty toxic gatekeeping fans. But for once with the DSMP, I actually felt well safe for my writing. I didn't have to worry about if I was writing the Character right or not.

So, with that said, Tommy Innit's Secret Clinic is still underway! I have a few more chapters already written but it's going to be a major story and for once, I'm fucking motivated to finish this! For once, I'm not four to five chapters in and can't seem to figure out what to write b/c I'm so stuck on what others kept telling me how to write certain characters. But with this, no one's doing that. I want to write to these Characters how I want to write them!

I am NOT supporting the Content Creator! This has always been about the Characters. As far as I'm concerned, William "Wilbur Soot" Gold can go step on a pile of Legos for all I care!

However, with Tommy Innit's Secret Clinic, it's going to be until Summer that I will be able to fully start to update again. Right now, I think I'm just going to concentrate on School since my class started a month ago. And I might be focusing on other Writing/Art Projects until then.

So, when Summer hits, expect to see updates for Tommy Innit's Secret Clinic! Until then, Guys, Gals, Demons, Ghouls and Multi-Fandom Fiends! I'll see you later! HAPPY CREATING!

[nuri148]

Clarity deleted scenes!

No one: Absolutely no one: Me: Should I post some deleted scenes from Clarity?

The answer, of course, is I probably shouldn't, but I fancied to, and since my delulu fellow rm spawnlings enable me, here it is. It's hem, you honour, they made me do it 🥸. (Small text is non-deleted parts, for context )

Deleted scene(s) from Chapter 8

--1--

Mikasa looked at herself in the mirror, not really listening to Gabi raving about how smashing she looked. (...) “Isn’t it too … revealing?” she said, looking at the way the neck almost showed her cleavage.

“No! I wish I could wear a dress like that,” Gabi said. “But I don’t have what it takes,” she added, cupping her hands in front of her small breasts. (...)

“Well, that’s the thing, I don’t want (...) anyone to think I’m a minx.” And by ‘anyone’ she meant one person.

“You’re not dressed like a minx, you just think that because you never wear pretty clothes.” 

Mikasa looked vexed. “I do wear pretty clothes!” Gabi sighed. 

“Mikasa, you’re my friend and I love you, but you have two kinds of clothes: those boring two-pieces you used to wear for Armin’s diplomatic meetings, and peasant robes from when the walls were up that look like you're hiding under a burlap sack.” 

“Gabi!” Mikasa was clearly mortified now. 

“I’m sorry, this is probably not the best time to say it, but it’s true.” She looked sheepish. 

“What about the white blouse, the one with the ruffles that Lena sent me for my birthday? That’s pretty.” 

“Indeed. A gift.” 

“And the taupe dress? I bought that one myself.”  

Gabi snorted. “Because I practically forced you to.” Mikasa sat on the bed, dejected, and toyed with the skirt of her gown. 

--2-- 

Happy to find out the four of them had been assigned to the same table, they took their seats, making small talk as the hall slowly filled with guests.

“They really nailed it this year,” Levi commented, feeling one of the pale green napkins. “Two years ago they decked all the tables crimson, it looked like a fucking cabaret.” 

“It’s so beautiful,” Lucy sighed from time to time, her gaze wandering through the hall.  

Mikasa leaned in towards Levi. “Do you know who’s here? Hitch.” 

“Don’t they serve wine here?” Gabi moaned. 

--3-- 

Once the speech finished, the banquet started with the soup course, a cream of potato with duck egg yolk and fresh truffle (...).

[Lucy] was trying to spoon the cream around the yolk.  

“You’re supposed to stir it in,” Mikasa said.  

“But it’s raw,” Lucy whispered. 

“You’re supposed to stir it in right away,” Levi clarified, “so that the heat of the soup makes the yolk safe to eat. 

--4-- 

Levi shot a death glare somewhere behind the girls’ back.

“Did you just scare away a potential dance partner?” Gabi called him out.

“No,” he lied, reaching for the wine, and tch’d at the realisation that the bottle was empty.

“He was about your age, probably some noble’s son,” Mikasa said, casually resting her chin on her hand as she people-watched. 

“Oi!” 

“Levi, it’s a ball. They’ve the right to dance with whomever they please.” 

“You don’t know their real intentions.” 

“I’m pretty sure they intend to dance.” 

“I get it that you hate this,” Lucy said, sternly, “but some of us do want to make the most of the evening.” 

Levi just sulked. 

-----

Why did I cut them?

For #1, I felt it was going on a tangent and distracting from the main plot. In this universe I hc that since Mikasa didn't have someone growing up that that instilled in her a sense of fashion (lost parents too young and then it was khakis forevermore) so she really puts comfort before aesthetics and doesn't see the point in spending in clothes. But this isn't a Mikasa makeover story, this is a rm slowburn and we know Levi'd think her beautiful even when she's wearing old rags.

The other 3 were more to cut down the wc as it was already too high; there may have been transcition issues too (I don't remember after so long). E.g. for #2, there was also a bit of too much stuff being thrown around (sorting it out: more wc). For #4 I also didn't want it to look like Lucy was expecting to meet someone at the ball, and Levi's gatekeeping seemed a tad too much.

[killerwhaletank]

Hello sorry for an ask. I am very sick, my asthma is at its maximum level, my nose freezes, I have no medicine or food. I am in bad shape financially, I am a black disabled, who uses multiple medications, I pay for my food and lodging

Unfortunately I do not have all the resources to keep me safe, that is why I need your help, whatever you can contribute to me will be of great help.

would usually block on sight, but posting this one before i block and report just to show how i identify scams :3

username is . very... generic. some real people have users like this on tumblr but rarely. it's like one of the ones tumblr gives u when you sign up

only 27 posts, the first of which was just four days ago

the posts that do exist are all reblogged directly from the original poster, which is a sign they're probably just going through reblogging stuff from tags rather than through following people, becoming mutuals, etc

simple tumblr search for the url and for the name on the paypal shows several posts already talking about it being a scam

"VETTED AND VERIFIED FUNDRAISER" by Who. ok

reverse searching pfp comes up with several results, some dating back years. one of which is a donation page shut down by paypal, and the other a spam account on twitter

searching the same text on tumblr comes up with it also being sent by cool deleted by tumblr blogs (all with the same pfp and title of "BLACKLIVES MATTER") such as sassygiverinternet, massivebananasong, jovialglitterduck, brieflovewombat, bigwonderlandpeace, scentedsublimenightmare, enchantingqueencreator, loudlovereagle, toosaladgarden, scentedsublimenightmare, valiantcandysweets, paledonuttacok, strangeangelwinner, dopeprincessduck, delicatesublimelizzardy

so uh. y'know. check donation asks before posting them bc they're probably scams :P

[terraliensvent]

I'm a person whose application was canceled because of "art from four years ago". The art is actually 3.5 years old, it's not a big discrepancy, but I recently checked how long ago the art was actually made.

I'm paranoid now and I feel like everyone quietly hates me. Sorry, I have fears of becoming hated and I would deal with them if this case.

I'd like to point out that Staff doesn't consider that art to be a problem anymore since I deleted it and no longer associate it with me and my arts, but I would prefer to know in advance that I will be studied and what exactly will be studied.

I have applied as an artist about four times. Twice as a permanent artist, once as a guest artist, and once as a guest artist, but on a free basis. I think I've been rejected all four times because of this art. In fact, I feel like I'm hated by the entire terraliens staff, and it's due to my paranoia about this very incident. I convince myself it's not true, but I'm still scared.

But I really wish this whole situation had been discussed with me before I was rejected four times, so that I could have at least had a chance at the last set. The person I contacted for clarification about my application called my application really strong so I'm still confused because I loved the species and wanted to help as much as I could.

I think I am also going to leave this species because it has caused me a lot of problems. I want to stop putting myself under so much stress and watch from the sidelines rather than brewing.

I feel like I'm burning bridges and I don't like it. But even if this post ruins my future like that art I don't think I care anymore.

post related

yeah, the biggest problem to me is that the "background check" was just never disclosed

im sorry its caused you so much fear anon, if you dont feel happy in terras you should absolutely leave. it can be upsetting to feel persecuted over actions you have changed from and no longer associate with

[anglophiletraveler]

In My Life

Chapter 27

“Getting to Know You”

I’m so sorry that it’s taken so long for this chapter to post.  I had that mishap with accidentally deleting half of the chapter, so that was frustrating.  And of course, it was a chapter that was somewhat easier to write than normal, and trying to get that back was harder than I thought.  Going back and forth because of the feeling that I had already written something was very frustrating, and of course I didn’t want to repeat myself.  So in the interest of getting this out, I haven’t attached a song for the title.  Also, just to warn you, the rating on this chapter has gone up to an “E” because of the love scene towards the end.  I hope nobody gets offended.  Thanks again to my Italian beta, Karen Brockius.  You totally rock!

*************************

“Hello sister,” the man said.

“Hello Luke,” Demelza said.

There was an awkwardness in the room between the three of them.  Finally Ross stepped forward to shake hands with the gentleman, “Ross Poldark, I’m your sister’s boyfriend.”

Demelza shook her head, “Judas, I’m sorry.  Ross, this is my brother Luke.  Luke, this is my boyfriend, Ross.”

Luke has a small smile, “Hiya, nice to meet you.  Sorry about earlier sister, I didn’t mean to scare you at the buffet line.”

“Right.  I felt like I had seen a ghost for a minute.  Thank you for meeting me.  Do you want to sit down? I’m sure Caroline’s uncle won’t mind.”  She motioned for them to sit on one of the sofas.

Luke sat down on one sofa while Demelza and Ross sat on the other, “It’s a fancy room.  But, I guess it’s a fancy room for a fancy house.”

“Yes it is,” said Demelza.  

“You look real pretty Dem.  Real pretty.” Luke said.

“Thanks.  You look good yourself.”  

Ross could see that this conversation was going nowhere fast.  He cleared his throat, “So Luke, have you been working for the caterer long?”

“ ‘bout three years now.  I mainly work at his restaurant in the kitchen cooking.  Maybe you’ve heard of the restaurant, it’s called The Purple Onion, it’s in Truro,” Luke said.

“Um no, I’m afraid I haven’t heard of it, but I don’t get back this way very often.  We live in London,” Ross said.

“Oh do ya now?  I wondered what e’re happened to ya.  I avn’t really kept in touch with the family much lately,” Luke started to explain.

Demelza finally spoke up, “Luke do ya keep in touch with da?”

“Wha? Christ no!  I live in Truro now.  I moved there ‘bout four years ago and avn’t looked back.  Evry once in a while I run into him in the shop and then he asks me for money, but there’s no way in hell that I would ever give that man money.  I work hard for me money and the last thing I’m gonna do is give it to him just to drink it away.” Luke’s voice got louder as he spoke about their father.  

“Okay, okay, I didn’t mean to upset you.  I just needed to know, because I really don’t wanna run into him this weekend while we’re down here visiting Ross’s parents.   I don’t want him knowing where I live or work or anything about me.  I don’t want him in my life at all.”  Demelza was starting to breathe harder and it didn’t go unnoticed by Ross.  He started to rub her back hoping to get her to calm down.  

“Look sister, you don’a have ta worry about him hearin anythin from me.  I have a good life now, I love what I do cooking at the restaurant and me boss is checking out culinary schools for me.  Maybe someday hopefully I can go to cookin school.  Eh that would be grand wouldn’t it?  Imagine that!  Me a chef!” Luke said.

Demelza smiled at the excitement in her brother, “Oh Luke, that sounds wonderful!  I hope it works out for ya.  I’m that glad for ya.  Truly I am.”

Luke took a quick look around and got up to sit in the chair next to Demezla.  He dropped his voice low so that nobody outside of the doors could hear him.  “Sister, have, have ya still any scars from the beatins?”

Demelza looked down at her hands, “Yes.  I have some on me back tha ne’vr went ‘way.”  Ross took one of Demelza’s hands in his.

“Aye, I still do too sister.”

Demelza looked up at Luke puzzled, “You? No, no that can’t be Luke.  I thought that I was the only one who got the beatings?  To save the rest of ya from gettin ‘em?!”

“Well, after ye left fer university, I guess the old man decided it was my turn.  He skipped o’er preacher Sam and let me have it.  I don’t remember if the others got whooped.  Maybe he jest didn’t like red hair?”  Luke could see how much this upset his sister.  “It’s okay sister, we’re out of that hell hole now.”

Demelza had fresh tears on her cheeks now.  “Oh Luke, I am so sorry, I didn’t know.  Why don’t you give me your number and maybe we can keep in touch, yeah?” Demelza handed Luke her phone to put his number in it for her.  Ross was stunned listening and watching the siblings talk about their beatings.  It was something that he had a hard time comprehending.

“Tha would be nice Dem, really nice.  Hey ya never told me what kind of job you have?” Luke asked.

“Your sister is a brilliant cellist for the BBC Orchestra in London,” Ross said with pride.

“Wha!  No way!  Demelza, that’s brilliant!  Glory be!  Maybe someday I can make it up there to watch ya!  I’ve never been to London, but I reckon I could make it up there to see my sister play her cello!  You always were good on that thing!” 

“Oh gosh, thank you Luke.  I’d love for ya to come up and visit us someday.  We have an extra room you could stay in.   That will be somethin to look forward to, yeah!”  Demelza was relieved by Luke’s news about his life and that he was trying to make something out of his life, and that he wasn’t in contact with their father.

Just then the door to the study opened and Luke’s boss came in, “Luke, we need help loading up the vans.”

Luke stood up, “Right, I’ll be right there boss.  Well, I better get going.  It was grand to see you again sister.  Nice to meet you Ross.”

“It was a pleasure meeting you as well Luke.” Luke and Demelza gave each other a hug before he left.  Ross and Demelza watched as he went out the door.  Ross let out a big sigh and looked at Demelza, “Do you want to go back to the party, or would you just like to go home, love.”   

“I’d like to leave, but we need to say goodbye to Dwight and Caroline before we go.  Did you need to say something to your cousins before we go?” Demelza asked.

“Cousins?” Ross had completely forgotten that his cousin and his wife were at the party.  “Oh bloody hell no, I don’t need to see them again for another decade.”

*******************

Ross and Demelza found Dwight and Caroline and said their goodbyes.  It was only 10:30 when they left but it had seemed later than that with everything that had gone on at the party.  They were on their way back to Nampara under a clear sky filled with stars. 

“Ross, I’m so sorry to make you leave the party early.”

“No need to apologise.  I made small talk with the partners from the firm and danced with you a couple of times.  That’s all I needed to do.  I’m glad to finally be alone with you, love,” Ross said.

“Ross, I was wondering, is there someplace that we could go around here, where we could be alone?” Demelza asked.

“Let me think.  I’m sure that there’s a bar open somewhere in the area.  But that’s not what you had in mind is it.”

“No, not really.”

Ross could tell something was bothering her.  He was sure that running into her brother had really rattled her.  They were used to their privacy at the London flat, but things wouldn’t be that private back at Nampara, especially if his Mama was still up.  She would want to know the details of the party and who was there and who wore what.

“You know, mama and papa might not even be up by the time we get home.  We can sneak a pot of tea and some biscuits up to our bedroom.  Maybe even a bottle of champagne,” said Ross.  He reached over and held her hand.

“Yeah maybe.  It is getting late, maybe your parents don’t stay up late anymore.  Oh Ross!  We didn’t get a chance to talk with Dwight about your mother’s condition.”

“Don’t worry about it, I’m sure we can make time this weekend to go out for lunch or something.  Tonight probably wasn’t the right time to talk about it anyway.  Hey, did I tell you how beautiful you looked tonight?” Ross was trying to change the subject.

Demelza smiled, “Yes Ross, you did.  And you were definitely the most handsome man at the party.”

“Well, if I was the most handsome man at the party, and you were the most beautiful woman at the party… do you know what that makes us?”  Ross had a huge smile on his face.

“No Ross, what does that make us?” Demelza was bracing herself for Ross’s answer.

“That makes us Ken and Barbie!” Ross was laughing at cracking himself up. Demelza loved it when he laughed like this, his eyes light up and twinkle, his mouth gets wide and his whole face lights up with his laughing.  

“Ross, that’s terrible!!  I wouldn’t want to be like Barbie with her perfect smile, her perfect hair and her tiny waist.  Although I wouldn’t mind having her penthouse or her camper!!” Demelza joked.  

“Oh, and don’t forget about her corvette!  You’re going to need the Barbie corvette for when you get your driver’s licence!” Ross was egging her on now.

“You twat!” Demelza smacked him on his arm, “I am not getting my driver’s licence!”

“We’ll see, we’ll see.  Don’t forget you promised me that you would have another driving licence tomorrow.”

“What?  I did no such thing Ross Poldark!” Demelza was getting riled up now.

“Oh yes you did.  I remember you distinctly agreeing to another lesson tomorrow when we got back from getting the champagne.”  The smile never left Ross’s face.

“You liar!  I never said no such thing Ross Poldark and you know it!”

Ross pulled into a parking spot at Nampara, “Most of the lights are off, Dem.  That’s a good sign.  The elders may all be tucked away!”  Ross leaned over to kiss Demelza.  He made sure that it was a deliberate and long kiss. When the kiss ended they were both breathing heavier.  Demelza noticed that the windows were a little steamed up.  She giggled, “Ross, we steamed  up the windows!”  Ross joined her giggles, “How about steaming up the shower door with me?”  Ross was kissing and nuzzling her neck.  He knew this would get to her.  “Mmmm I do want to get out of these clothes and take a shower, and put on my sweats before I climb into bed.”  “Your sweats?  What do you mean by that?” Ross wondered.  “Did ya forget I have my period?”  Ross sighed, “C’mon love, let’s get you in those sweats.” Ross kissed her hand and then opened his car door and walked around to open Demelza’s door.  Demelza stood up and put her hand on Ross’s cheek and kissed him.  “I am sorry Ross.”  “Nothing to be sorry about, love.  It’s not your fault.  It’s just life.  C’mon love, I’ll give you a back rub.  I think we’re both beat anyway.”  He put his hand in hers and led her into the house. 

He opened the door quietly trying not to wake anyone up.  He looked around and saw that the coast was clear, no parents and no Jud and Prudie.  The fireplace had been banked and there were just a couple of lights left on to lead the way.  They quietly walked into the kitchen to pick up supplies to take upstairs.  “Are you hungry Demelza?”  “Aye, I’m starvin.”  Ross chuckled, “Of course you are babe.”  Demelza put her hand on her hip and gave him a sour look.  “Sorry Dem, I can’t help it!  You’re always hungry, I swear you have a hollow leg!  Let’s check the fridge and see what we can find to take upstairs with us.  Do you want to put on the kettle and take a pot upstairs with us?” Ross asked.   “Sure, I’ll get that started.  There’s still some biscuits in the cookie jar.  Is there anything in the fridge?  Something to make sandwiches out of maybe?”  Demelza’s stomach growled and they both laughed.  “There looks to be some ham, some cheese, mustard, pickles, some roast beef.  We could make some sandwiches out of that.  There should be some bread over in the bread box,” Ross started pulling everything out on the counter.  

Demelza found the bread, “Oh Ross! I love this kind of bread!  It smells so good!  Here, smell it!”  Demelza shoved the loaf of brown rye bread under Ross’s nose.  “Yeah, it smells fine.  Since when are you into rye bread?”  

“Mmmm I don’t know. Probably uni.  It’s a treat.  It’s kind of expensive, so I don’t get to have it very often,” Demelza said. 

Ross stopped where he was standing, eyebrows furrowed looking at Demelza, and he held both of her hands in his and looked in her endless blue eyes.  “Demelza, love, you don’t have to  skimp on bread.  If you want rye bread at home, then buy it.  If you want 10 different types of cheeses, then buy it.  We can afford it, and we’re not going to go broke buying food.”  He saw that her eyes were shiny, and the look on her face was almost one of fear.  “I promise you. Okay?  We’re fine financially.  We’re not struggling.”  He pulled her into him for an embrace.  He gently kissed her forehead.  “Why don’t you take this bottle of champagne and two glasses upstairs and get in the shower, and I’ll make us some sandwiches and bring them up, yeah?”  Demelza quietly shook her head yes and took the champagne and glasses upstairs.  

Ross watched her go and then sighed.  He shook his head and started making sandwiches.  He hadn’t realised that Demelza had been holding off buying certain groceries because of cost.  When they first started living together Demelza had tried to insist that they split the cost of groceries and utilities 50/50 but he tried to explain to her that it wasn’t necessary.  Besides, he knew that her salary from the orchestra really wasn’t that much.  He had finally convinced her that he would keep on paying for the utilities because he was already paying for those, but they could split the groceries if she wanted.  They still had their own bank accounts, but Ross thought it would be easier if they opened a joint account for the groceries and any other expenses, and then have two cards to use for groceries.  He hadn’t paid close attention to the balance and the transactions.  It just was never something that he was worried about because he knew his share went in automatically, but it made him think that maybe he should check the online statements to see if there were any issues that he should know about.  But now wasn’t the time, so he made the sandwiches to take upstairs.

**********************

Ross opened the bedroom door carrying the tray and shut the door with his foot.   He heard the shower still running and thought about joining Demelza, but then decided against it in case she wanted some privacy.  He peeled off his tux from his sweaty body and slipped on some pyjama bottoms, and opened the champagne and poured out two glasses.  He turned down the bed and placed the tray on it and turned on the TV to watch the New Year’s countdown show and climbed into bed. The shower turned off and soon after Demelza came out of the bathroom in one of Ross’s t-shirts and her knickers, combing her hair out.  

Ross smiled at her.  He always loved it when she wore his clothes.  “Hey you.  Feeling better?”

Demelza sat gently on the bed, “Yes, I do, much better.  The food looks good.  What did you end up making?” 

“Well, we have a ham and cheese sandwich with mustard, and a roast beef and cheese sandwich with mustard, with pickles on the side.  Not too exciting.  I like both so you pick what you want and I’ll take what’s left.”

“Oh I’ll have the ham and cheese, and some tea.  Thank you very much.  What are we watching?” Demelza took a large bite of her sandwich and took a cup of tea from Ross.

“Oh, it’s just some New Year’s countdown show.  We can turn it off if you want,” Ross took a bite of his sandwich.

“Oh it’s fine, I don’t really care.  Ross I just happened to think, we didn’t see Seamus when we came home,” Demelza said.

“Oh I’m sure he was in mum and da’s room.  He usually stays close to them when we’re here visiting.  Hey, you never mentioned that you and your brother look so much alike.  I felt like I was seeing double!” Ross said.

“Oh, I guess I never thought about it much.  It’s not like there were mirrors everywhere to look at ourselves,’ Demelza took another bite of her sandwich.

“Interesting.  Is Luke next to you in line?” Ross asked.

“No, Sam is next in line to me, then Luke.  I felt bad tonight when he told me that father used to beat him as well.  I really thought I was the only one.  I mean, I knew that all of us were hit by him, but I really thought they just got a back hand every once in a while,” she explained.

Ross picked up her hand and kissed it tenderly.  “I wish that I could banish all of that away from your memories.”

Demelza smiled at those kind eyes, “I know Ross.” 

They sat in silence watching the tele, eating their sandwiches for a bit.  Ross set aside the empty plates and sat up in bed.  “Why don’t you come over here, I think I owe you a back rub,” Ross gently pulled Demelza in between his legs and started massaging her back. Every once in a while he could feel the scars still left on her back, but tried to avoid them.   It didn’t take long for Demelza to start moaning from the rubdown she was getting.  “Where do you hurt more, hmm? Is it your low back?”  Ross moved his hands lower.  “Oh yes, Ross, right there.  Harder please!”  Ross chuckled lightly, “That’s what you said last night!”   “Haha, very funny.  But seriously, rub me harder there.”  “Alright, alright.  I don’t want to hurt you.”   “Oh yeah, that’s it.  Judas, that feels so good.  Thanks babe.”  Demelza sat back up.  “You are quite welcome.  I’m sure if there was anyone standing outside the door listening in, they were probably wondering what we were up to!” Ross laughed.  

Demelza climbed on top of Ross’s lap, “You mean something like this.” Demelza grabbed Ross’s face and planted a sensuous kiss on Ross’s lips.  Ross opened his lips to let Demelza’s tongue in his mouth to tango with his tongue.  Ross pulled back to catch his breath, “Well, Happy New Year’s to me!” Demelza smiled at him like she had something on her mind.  She pulled off the t-shirt that she was wearing and pulled Ross close to her so that they were bare chest to bare chest.   “Oh God Demelza,” Ross moaned.  Ross’s hands were caressing her bare back as he stared up in Demelza’s eyes.  Ross started kissing Demelza’s neck causing her to moan.  She laid her head back to allow him more access.  “Oh Rosssss.”   He found her rocking against his lap.  She heard a low moan, a sound that she didn’t recognize was coming from herself, and Ross was moaning right along with her.  He grabbed her hips and was helping her move back and forth.  She would have bruises from his fingers in the morning, but she didn’t care.  She laid back in his hands at her waist, her head laid back with her fire red hair draping down.   Her ivory skin glowing.  Ross couldn’t believe what he was witnessing.  “Demelza, you are so fucking beautiful.  You look like a goddess laying like that.”  Demelza sat back up and grabbed Ross’s hair to lavish more kisses on him, “Ross, I want….”   Ross couldn’t believe Demelza and what was happening, “What do you want, my love.  Tell me what you want!”  “I want you.  Oh God.  I need you so much Ross,” she cried out.   Ross looked her in the eyes, “But you are… are you sure?”  Demelza looked back at him, “Oh God yes, that is, if you don’t mind trying it?”  “I’m willing if you are.  Go to the bathroom and take care of yourself, and bring a couple of towels back out with you, yeah?”  Demelza shook her head and ran into the bathroom.  

Ross wasn’t sure what got into Demelza but he wasn’t going to question it. Ross had never thought much about a woman’s period let alone make love to her while she was having it, so he googled it quickly to find out more about it to make sure that it wouldn’t hurt Demelza.  He found out that it wouldn’t hurt the woman, and that it is a natural thing to happen and could even ease the woman’s pain during her cycle.  It just depended on the couple and how they felt about it.  Well I guess I’m going to find out! He thought to himself.  Ross got out of the bed and pulled the covers back even more and took a large drink from his champagne glass and refilled it.  According to the countdown, midnight was getting closer.  He turned off all of the lights except one bedside lamp and lit a few of the candles just as Demelza came out of the bathroom holding the towels crumpled up in front of her, and a wet washcloth.  He smiled to himself because she still had issues about standing naked in front of him.  He walked over to her and gave her a gentle kiss, “Are you sure about this?  I don’t want you to feel like this is something you have to do.”

Demelza laid the towels on the bed, “Oh Ross, I don’t know what’s come over me, but I really need to feel your love right now, please.”  She was almost begging and it almost broke his heart.

“Oh my darling, you always have my love.  Why don’t you have a drink of your champagne and I’ll spread the towels out.  It’s almost midnight!”  Ross spread the towels down on the sheet and noticed that Demelza drank most of her champagne and poured more in her glass.  He turned the tele off and removed his bottoms and climbed back into bed sitting against the headboard.  Demelza found some soft music on her phone and quickly joined him.

Demelza took her place back sitting on Ross’s lap.  Ross took a moment to look into her eyes, smiling at her as he stroked her hair lovingly.  

“Happy New Year’s babe,” Ross said. 

 “Happy New Year’s Ross.” 

Ross thought Demelza’s eyes seemed darker than usual, “Our first New Year’s, the first of many I hope,” Ross leaned up to lay a soft kiss on her lips.  “I am your humble servant and  at your beckon call.”  His kisses continued lovingly one loving kiss after another.   Demelza was smiling and enjoying Ross’s attention.  Her breathing was a little faster and she was hanging onto his shoulders for dear life as if she was falling over a cliff with him. “Let me love you Demelza.” Ross’s lips moved to her left nipple and gently sucked on it while squeezing the other gently in his fingers.  Demelza let out a soft “Ooohhhh”.  Ross wondered if Demelza realised that she was rocking her hips again on his.  He was enjoying every bit of it and wanted to make sure that she did too.  He moved his mouth to her other breast and ravished it in his mouth, causing her to yell out, “Roosss.  Oh I love you!”  She grabbed his hair and was holding his head against her breast.  He couldn’t help but moan out.  He slowly licked up her neck again and again.  She began to shake a little bit and he wasn’t sure if she was cold or just overwhelmed, “Are you cold my love?”   She shook her head, “No, I don’t know why I’m shaking.  I need you Ross, please!”  He helped her raise up a little and then she reached back behind her and took his cock in her hand and lined it up and lowered herself on it.  They both moaned at the same time as she bottomed out on him. He had wrapped his arms around her so that she could feel even closer to him.    

She lowered her head to his shoulder and could smell his cologne mixed with his sweat. She began to rub her cheek in Ross’s beard, biting at his jawline.  Ross let out a hiss at the feeling that she was stirring in him.   “God Ross, I love this feeling.”  Ross couldn’t stop laying soft kisses on her head and face.  “Oh Demelza, I love it too.  I love it too.”  Demelza finally was able to raise herself up a little and then come back down on Ross bringing out another moan from Ross.  They had only made love in this position a couple of times so it still felt new to Demelza.  She raised up again, only this time with Ross’s help at her hips.  She came back down again and moaned.  She adjusted herself so that she could raise up easier.  Ross planted his feet on the mattress so that he could rise up in Demelza to help her, and she loved the friction that he was causing.  “Mmmmm Demelza, you feel so good, so hot inside” Ross whispered in her ear.   Demelza was trying to go faster to reach her climax.  Ross let out a slight chuckle, “Slow down babe, we have all night.  Yesss, that’s it Demelza, nice and slow.”  Demelza was finally getting into the rhythm of things.  Ross could hear little whimpers coming from Demelza.  She was running her fingers through her hair, throwing her head back enjoying the feeling.  “Fuck, you’re beautiful Demelza, so beautiful.”  Ross had sped up their rhythm, Demelza rolled herself back up to embrace Ross and bite on his neck.  “Ross, I’m close, but I can’t…”

All of a sudden Ross flipped them without losing connection so that Demelza was on her back and Ross was on top of her, “I’ll take care of you my love, don’t worry,” he whispered into her ear.  And with that Demelza raised her legs up over his back and locked them at the ankles.  The different angle made Demelza moan even more.  “Demelza, I need you to look at me.”  Demelza left her eyes closed, “Look at me!”  She finally opened her eyes to look at her lover.  It was almost too much.   She felt like she was falling deep into his bourbon coloured eyes, and there wasn’t anything around them, no sound.  Just the two of them, together, feeling each other’s love.  Ross leaned up on his left elbow and reached between them with his right hand at the spot where they were joined and helped Demelza come to her climax.  He had lost all rhythm now as Demelza came, tears streaming down her red cheeks. “Rosss.”   It wasn’t long before he joined her in his end, moaning her name, “Mmmelza, I love you, so much.” 

Ross was finally able to slow down enough to stop, his hips stuttering at the end.  He started to climb off Demelza when she stopped him, “Don’t go Ross, please stay.”

“Demelza, I’m too heavy to lay on you like this.”

“No you’re not, please don’t go.”

He smiled down at her and kissed her tears away.  “Alright, for just a minute.” Ross raised up, “Are you alright, love?  Are you in pain anywhere?”  Demelza smiled at him, “I am absolutely wonderful,” she said.   Ross smiled and laid his forehead against hers feeling so emotional over what just happened between the two of them.  He knew that guys weren’t supposed to get emotional over sex, but he couldn’t help it.  What they just shared was so intense, so…. He wasn’t even sure what words he could use.  Powerful maybe?  

Ross soon rolled off of Demelza when he thought she had fallen asleep.  He had taken the wet cloth to clean her up, and then himself.  He laid back down and pulled her into his arms. 

“Goodnight my love.”

“Goodnight Ross.  I love you.”

“I love you too sweetheart.”

****************************

*Note:  My parents owned a restaurant when I was growing up.  When I was a little girl, I always thought that if I had a restaurant, I would name it The Purple Onion - the name of the restaurant Luke works in lol.

[hihimissamericanbi]

hiiii lantern, amber, & quilt please 🍂🎃🧡

Hi 🫦🫴🏼🫴🏼💦 (sorry) (🫦) (sorry)

🎃Lantern: best friend lore

Sorry babe you opened up the floodgates on this one.

I have several best friends and all their lore is remarkable. One of them I've known since I was four and we bonded over our love for spiders and playing dress up and wanting to marry each other instead of boys (ew). One of them introduced my husband and I to each other when we were all fifteen. We've all kept each other all these years and have survived a lot of shit. I quite literally wouldn't be here without her. One of them is my platonic soulmate I met as an adult and she is my James in that, there is no real word for what we are to each other but there doesn't really have to be. There's a lot of choice and intentionality in our relationship.

And this doesn't even cover the iron-clad relationships I have with several other important groups of people, who are all my family in every way that matters.

I have kind of a thing about friendships I think, about not being afraid to commit to them, to let the love in, to make all the long distance work. That's something I've learned about myself in adulthood.

And I think I also have to acknowledge my high school best friend here. We are still friends and love each other very much, but our relationship is different now from what it was fifteen years ago. Sometimes I wish I could tell her she was my first love, and I wish I had had the space and the language to have told her that back then.

😬Amber: Unpopular opinion

I really couldn't care less to debate fandom characterizations so I'll make this about something real bc it's my blog and I care about this.

TW: infertility, pregnancy, family separation, adoption, queer parenthood

I have learned a lot about the realities of the institution of adoption, things I didn't know until I started looking into it after I couldn't have biological children. After literal years of research, therapy, following and listening to the voices of adult adoptees, I largely don't support adoption, at least in the way most Americans/Westerners consider it. I am RABID about the intersectionality between children's liberation and queer liberation, not to mention all the other identities that overlap when you're discussing these topics: race, class, sex, gender, religion, etc.

*THIS POST IS NOT COMING FOR ANYONE I promise. Also, just to spell it out in case there was a shed of doubt, I do not believe a set type of person or people is better suited to raise a family than another. BEING A GOOD PARENT HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH YOUR GENDER OR ORIENTATION. I just happen to occupy a very unique little corner of the evangelical>infertile>queer agnostic pipeline that gives me unpopular opinions on, say, a lot of adoption tropes in queer fanfic. Tropes i would have seen absolutely nothing wrong with before learning from adoptees. I am thrilled to point people to resources and activists in this space if you would like to learn more. I am also thrilled to ignore/block/delete anyone wanting to have an argument on the godforsaken internet. That's not for this page, pick another one 😊

Tldr: adoption tropes in fic and media in general---epecially baby-on-the-doorstep/infant adoption--is not a viable happily ever after ending for a queer couple to me.

Uh.... next question, I guess??

☕️Quilt: How I take my tea/coffee

Coffee. And it's oatmilk. Not picky but I do love a nespresso with oatmilk or a nitro cold brew with oatmilk. I have also been known to order a cappuccino.

Does anyone even want to play after that dumpsterfire

[lilac-set]

@shenny100 im so sorry, you sent us an ask for an ask game like a month and a half ago, i didnt notice it in the “activity” thing apparently, and only today i was digging through tumblr settings, noticed that an inbox actually exists, and saw your ask. Started answering it, closed it for some reason, and the draft didnt save and now it isnt in our inbox anymore, i dont know what happened

Thanks for the ask!

🍄 how’d you get your system name?

We have a bunch of them honestly, most of which arent public on tumblr, but we’ll talk about them anyway :3 mostly because lilac has the least interesting story, which is simply that we all like lilacs. We do like them a lot though, like a lot a lot, almost to the extent of worshipping them, but not quite (/serious). Its also convenient that lilacs have four petals, and we’re a system of four, so theres that. The “set” aspect comes from the fact that we’re a set of quadruplets. Our discord name is also a flower, im not gonna post it publicly but youre welcome to ask, we chose that flower for the gender vibes. And then our actual irl collective name, not public either, came to be in an interesting way, before we knew we were plural. We chose it in high school, we were changing our first name for gender reasons, and �� made a list of names he liked. The next day i (🔥) found the list, took off the ones i didnt like, and added some others I thought were worth considering. The next day/later the same day (no idea) he looked at the note again and reversed my changes. We went back and forth like this multiple times before either of us realized it was futile, he left a note in the note not to make any permanent changes, to add whatever i want at the bottom but not delete anything, and just reorder the names in order of preference. We would keep the note and keep revisting and reordering them until one consistently floated to the top and wasnt being moved back down, so after a while all four of us had had in opportunity in front to vote on names, changes quit being made, and our name was decided. So thats the name we all collectively and individually went by and continue to go by, we all got attached to it and really identify with it, our individual names that we use are technically middle names so that we could each keep that name as a first name. It was kinda validating, our rationale at the time was just that our preferences must vary depending on our mood or whatever and for some reason we have no recollection of other moods. After we became aware of each other like 5 years later it was immediately apparent what had been going on, but we hadnt really internalized it, ya know? So when we were choosing our individual names we went with the same method, keep an open note and adjust the order every day based on preference, and we were surprised that individually our preferences are consistent lmao

[mjvnivsbrvtvs]

wow! sometimes making a post that reveals too much about your relationship with art is cathartic, but sometimes it’s also: time to bury that in a graveyard somewhere

[miekasa]

call me (levi ackerman)

↯ pairing: levi ackerman x (fem) reader

↯ genres and warnings: fluff, humor? you can be the judge of that i suppose, levi is quiet and often practical, but you cannot convince that there’s not a small part of him that doesn’t enjoy having shit to hold over people lol

↯ notes: this is also cross-posted from another blog, but i tweaked it a bit to fit levi and rewrote/edited parts i wish the world had never seen </3 also i’m reposting bc i was an idiot who accidentally deleted it on mobile rip 

↯ word count: 1.3k

↯ summary: drunk you is not amused by the man who keeps trying to coerce you into his apartment; even if that man is your boyfriend and that apartment is his apartment.

“Alright mister, I’m trusting you for now because you’re Erwinnie’s friend, and Erwinnie is my best friend,” you hiccup, wagging your pointer finger as threateningly as you can in your current state, “So if he says you’re a good person, you’re probably a good person. Or good enough.”

Levi holds back a knowing smirk, and loops his arm through yours to steady your balance. He doesn’t know how or why Erwin let you get this drunk, but he’s at least glad the blonde was sober enough to call him to pick you up instead of letting you get in a cab; or worse, attempt to take the bus.

“I’m so very glad you trust me,” he says, voice flat as your wrap your other arm around his bicep. You hum back, a little spacey and like you maybe didn’t hear what he said.

You’re honestly pretty cute when you’re drunk. It’s not something he gets to see often, as you don’t allow yourself to let go frequently; nor do you usually have the time to. And it’s not that he particularly wishes for you to be drunk to the point where you can barely stand, or remember his name, but all things considered, Levi is happy that your general drunk disposition is happy, too. 

He waves Mike goodbye as he wrangles Erwin into his car, not holding back his smile this time as you wave over-excitedly at the blonde in the passenger seat, calling his name loudly to tell him goodnight and that you’ll miss him, like you hadn’t already told him goodnight three minutes ago, or spent the last three hours with him drinking. Yeah, you’re cute. 

Thankfully, Levi doesn’t live too far from the restaurant you and Erwin were at, so the both of you are home after a twenty minute walk—what should have been fifteen minutes, but was prolonged by your drunken fascination with a squirrel on a public bench.

You start to wobble more when Levi unlaces your arms to get his keys out of his pocket, and he moves his right hand to rest against the small of your back so you don’t fall. However, drunk you is not so entertained by the idea of his hands anywhere near your waist as sober you would have been.

“Hey, hey, hey—hold it right there, mister!” you stutter, words a bit too loud for the confined space of Levi’s hallway at three in the morning, “I am not going in—into that suspicious apartment with you.”

You stumble as you try to remove Levi’s hand from your waist, and he tries to steady your balance again, but push him away more forcefully, staggering into the wall behind you.

“Ah, bitch,” you curse, holding your head and groaning. The pain clearly isn’t enough to stop your accusations against Levi, as you’re back to wagging your finger at him, even hunched over from your drunken stupor, “See, this is your fault.”

Levi sighs. He doesn’t know why you’re holding your head, because you hit your back, and from what he can tell, you shouldn’t have hurt yourself that badly. He’ll take a closer look at you once you’re inside. That’s if he could get you inside to begin with.

He can’t wrangle you and open the door at the same time, so he goes for the latter, finally pulling his keys from his pocket to unlock his apartment door, then attempts to move you inside. Keyword: attempts; because anytime he puts his hands remotely near you, you slap them away.

“Come on, we have to go inside,” he grunts, trying again to get a hold of your arm, but you whack him away harshly. For a drunk person, you seem to have the strength and dexterity of a pro-athlete all of a sudden. Where was all this coordination when he was trying to get you up the stairs five minutes ago?

“No!” you growl—once again, too loudly for the time and place. “Haven’t you heard of the saying no means no, mister? I might be drunk, but this is not my apartment, and I am not going in there to have sex with you!”

“I’m trying to help you go to bed. I’m not going to try and have sex with you.” Levi takes a deep breath. This could sound really bad if anyone else woke up and heard the two of you. 

But you’re not having it, crossing your arms and turning your body so that you’re now facing the wall, your back towards a less-than-impressed Levi. “Well, I don’t believe you. I’m going to call Erwinnie tell him you’re being a bad friend, and then Erwinnie is going to call my boyfriend and he’s going to come and pick me up.”

“Oh yeah?” Levi drawls, leaning against his door frame, watching your silhouette as you clumsily search for your phone in your pockets, “Why don’t you just call your boyfriend then?”

You turn on your heels as best you can, and muster up your most menacing glare. It’s not menacing in the slightest, and it actually makes Levi crack a smile, which you do not take lightly; but that only makes him smile further, because sober you doesn’t like it when he’s not fazed by your self-proclaimed intimidation tactics, either.

“Fine,” you huff, finally putting your phone to your ear, “But you’re going to be sorry, because Levi is going to come here and kick your ass.”

Levi chuckles, feeling his own phone ring in his back pocket, “I bet he is.”

“He is,” you insist, stomping your foot for dramatic effect, “He might not be that tall, but he’s strong as hell, plus he’s handsome, and he doesn’t let people fuck around with me, so say your prayers, mister.”

The following afternoon is far less than pleasant. You feel groggy, tired, and like everything is moving in slow motion. Piece by piece, your memories of your night out with Erwin start to come back to you, but you can’t seem to recall anything beyond your fifth margarita.

“Good morning, sunshine,” Levi calls, sarcastically, upon entering the bedroom.

His voice and presence surprises you, but then the realization washes over you that you’re in his apartment and not your own. You’re not sure why yet, but you could probably take a guess.

“Did you take me home last night?”

Levi hums in acknowledgement, nodding his head towards the bedside table, where you find a bottle of water. Levi watches you as you move to hang your legs off the side of the bed and reach for the bottle, groaning in the process. He mentally notes that he should make you breakfast—or, well, at this point, brunch—after you go shower, so that you can take an Advil for the pain.

He moves across the room to sit beside you on the bed, careful to not disrupt too much as to make you spill the water on the sheets. “You know, for someone who’s so happy-go-lucky when they’re drunk, you put up quite the fight yesterday.”

“I did?” you turn to him, capping the bottle, eyes wide with surprise, “You were probably sleeping and you had wake up and come deal with me, I’m sorry, Levi.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he assures you, an almost uncharacteristic and sly smile playing on his lips, “You always say something interesting that keeps me entertained. It makes up for it.”

“Dear god, what was it this time?” you groan, throwing your head back, “I didn’t confess my feelings for you again did I? This is, what, like the sixth time since we’ve been dating? I’m such an embarrassing drunk.”

“Not a confession this time,” he chuckles, “The opposite. Maybe worse.”

Levi fishes his phone from his pocket, and pulls up his voicemails before handing it to you. Curious—and a little bit scared—to find out what could possibly be worse than confessing to your boyfriend of almost four years that you’re in love with him and sad that you’re not dating him? You’re not sure that it could get more embarrassing than that until you click on Levi’s most recent voicemail and hear your own voice crackling through the speaker of his phone.

“—What, hey, fuck off, mister! I don’t want to go into your scrubby apartment! I am happily dating Levi Ackerman, and when he gets here he is going to grand slam your sorry ass into the ground!”

[quacka-quacka]

I mentioned Paul's strong resistance to being recognized as effeminate man or gay (here). Although he can hang out with gay guys, wear rainbow flag in public [yeah I definitely need to write that again in case someone didn't see it], being considered gay or "cute" is beyond endurance. I know someone love to interpret this as "don't want to his sexuality being mislabeled", which indeed looks sensible when it comes to the homosexuality, but this excuse can't be applied to the "cute" thing, right? You can't say being cute or feminine is the same thing as being gay, can you? Well, I can hear Paul's every single cell screaming O!M!G! Feminine! all the time. He doesn't want himself have anything to do with feminine, which, unfortunately can not be simply regarded as personal preference, it's indeed a despising of femininity, and femininity? Of course it's about female. Yes, "phallicism", the worship of masculine are still popular in today's society, but it doesn't mean it's right. I have to say Paul's thought is the product of this society, not to mention that he is an old man who grow up in a working-class family six decades ago, we can't demand him that much. His attitude towards women is the same thing.

PAUL: We were more amazed to see the [Japanese] women leaping up out of the seats for the promoter, because we'd never seen that in the West. The subservience of the women was amazing. They'd say, 'Oh God, I'm sorry - was I in your seat?' I remember us getting back to Britain and saying to our wives and girlfriends, 'I wouldn't want you to do that, but maybe it's a direction worth considering?' Promptly rejected.

— The Beatles Anthology

Although Paul seems to know that it's pretty cool for a woman to pursue her own career, like admitting Jane was famous before he was, allowing Linda to write a cookbook or have a photography exhibition, the androcentrism is too ingrained for him to forsake. He acknowledged Jane's achievements but still wanted her to give up work completely:

'I always wanted to beat Jane down,' says Paul. 'I wanted her to give up work completely.'

'I refused. I've been brought up to be always doing something. And I enjoy acting. I didn't want to give that up.'

— Hunter Davies, The Beatles

He allowed Linda to do her own thing, but they are not entirely hers - all those projects are belong to MPL, and do not forget Paul said this after Linda's death:

She never did anything on her own because we were together so much. 

— Paul McCartney, interview w/ Chrissie Henderson for USA Week-end: Tears and laughter. (October 30, 1998)

That's so sweet to see Paul would support his wife any time, but on the other hand it also shows that Linda never get the chance to do something entirely on her own without Paul's interference after she got married. No wonder so many people from inner circle [including Linda, yeah] described Paul as "typical Northerner":

Linda confided that Paul was a ‘typical Northerner’ who believed women should stay at home while men worked.

— Bonnie Estridge, The Mail on Sunday. (March 20th, 2005)

Paul was raised the old-fashioned way. Men were the breadwinners; women stayed at home, had babies and tea on the table. He's still an old-fashioned guy, very careful with money.

— Ruth McCartney

Like the other Beatles, he [Paul] was essentially an old fashioned Liverpool man, who wanted his woman tucked away at home cooking the dinner and minding the kids.

— Cynthia Lennon, John

Jane was a serious actress and wanted to continue her career, but Paul had other ideas. That’s why Linda was so perfect for Paul; she was just what he wanted, an old-fashioned Liverpool wife who was completely devoted to her husband.

— Marianne Faithfull, Memories, Dreams and Reflections

I'd say Paul was not that old-fashioned, at least he allowed his wife to do other things besides being a full-time nanny, but everything she does must cater his needs. As Jane once mentioned, he always wants his girl to adore him like fans:

The trouble is, he wants the fans’ adulation and mine too. He’s so selfish; it’s his biggest fault. He can’t see that my feelings for him are real and that the fans’ are fantasy.

— Jane Asher, Love Me Do! The Beatles’ Progress by Michael Braun

I know some of the fans can't wait to jump up now and shout "Paul and Jane didn't have a mature relationship!" "He's much mature after he meet Linda!" "Paul and Linda had a very very very healthy relationship!" Ok, if you really did some research, you may know that he's never mature enough to know how to fully respect women, at least before the end of divorce with Heather Mills. I have seen the theory appears too many times that Paul and Linda's marriage is the result of careful consideration: Linda came along with a ready-made child and she's ready to marry again - well, I regret to tell you both Paul and Linda wouldn't agree with you.

I was a great disappointment to my family When I got married [to a geologist] and moved to Arizona, it was crazy. I had been pressured by men all my life. I rather liked being on my own, making my own decisions. I had actually sworn to myself that I would never get married again.

— Linda McCartney, interview for Playgirl: An intimate conversation with pop’s preeminent pair. (February, 1985)

As she says, she's quite enjoy her freedom and had absolutely no interest in marriage. What did Paul do? He "twisted her arm" to make her agree.

I persuaded Linda to come to London for a visit. Then I rang Heather in New York and said, ‘Heather, will you marry me?’ She was five. ‘No, don’t be silly,’ she said. ‘I’m too young.’ ‘Well, I can wait,’ I said. So we went to New York and brought her back to London to live with us, and I twisted Linda’s arm and finally she agreed to marry me.

— Paul McCartney, interview for Playgirl: An intimate conversation with pop’s preeminent pair. (February, 1985)

Linda also said neither of them knew what they were doing when they got married:

LINDA: 'So instead of getting an agent I met Paul instead and got married. Or I was going through a transition then and didn't know quite what I was doing and he obviously didn't know quite what he was doing so we ended up marrying instead.'

— Paul McCartney: Many Years From Now

Again, I'm not saying Paul and Linda never loved each other or their marriage was completely made up for media, but I don't think his marriage with Linda enabled him to prioritize other's feelings [his status as one of the four head monsters doesn't help]. Linda's overmuch unilateral compromises certainty don't make him look mature. Let alone his excessive dependence on her.

------------------

Reply to all these who think feminize Paul/men is a bad thing:

You love to say that Paul doesn't want the cute title because people used to mock him by that. I understand it. But do you ever think about why being feminine is not taking him seriously? Do you ever think about this is the discrimination about femininity from the whole society? Why does a man must be despised when he has anything to do with femininity? And Paul's approach is denying his femininity, which is the same with those who mock it, like - a man being feminine is a shame because it means he can't be "respected" like other men. It's the recognition of this concept, which is outdated if you think about it.

P.S. Someone who reblogged my post doesn't seem to like the sentence "there must be many sweet moments between Paul and Linda". Ok, I delete it then.