#and i have all my necessities provided (well most of them) so like. i would feel ungrateful for wanting anything more

[caffeinatedopossum]

I always feel bad for being even a little dissatisfied with my circumstances and then I remember that most of the people around me (both irl and online) would probably go absolutely bonkers in my circumstances

[marleemutt]

TLDR: im a black trans artist who can use some help right now following the sudden passing of my only sister - her doberman is now the responsibility of my parents and we can use help for his food, supplements, toys etc.

Kofi (help me send Chewy orders to my parent's house)

Wishlist (literally send him things like toys, treats, etc.)

⬇️ more info ⬇️

hey guys

some of you might be aware of this already, but early October, my eldest sibling & only sister suddenly passed away due to a seizure, she had been dealing with epilepsy her whole life.

this has been incredibly difficult for me, and my family. her passing was incredibly sudden, she was only 30.

for the past month or so ive been struggling to find any motivation to draw, and barely able to work.

she was the incredibly devoted owner of a doberman named Remi(Ramsey). Me and my sister traveled 4 hours to pick him up three years ago. He's a goofball who tears up socks and needs constant supervision. My parents love him, but I can tell he is a lot of work for two people who have fulltime jobs and have lived long lives.

I'm going to try to help them take care of him as much as possible, I feel that it's the least we can do to honor my sister's memory, since she loved him so deeply.

My sister always wanted a doberman, for years she would watch videos about dobermans and talk about them to anyone who would listen.

Remi wasn't easy to raise - I shared a room with my sister when she got him in 2020, she still worked a 9-5, five days a week, so I was his nanny for most of his difficult childhood. I was his chew toy for the first year of his life about - but that only made him bond closer to me. If he wasn't following my sister, I was choice #2. Dobermans are "velcro dogs", they were bred to guard their owners, and because of this, they are fiercely loyal. I've been moved out of my parent's place for going on 3 years, and my sister had just moved with Remi out a few months prior to her passing.

A week before my sister's sudden passing, we had to board Remi at my dog daycare job while my family and I took a trip out of state. When dropping him off, although he was happy to see me again for the first time in months, the moment my sister turned her back to him he began to panic. He got through the boarding all right but my coworkers told me he would cry and wait by the door for me or her. When my sister picked him up, they said he jumped all 80+lbs into her arms.

Since my sister's passing, Remi has been directionless. He's with my family, people he trusts, but he's bored, confused, and heartbroken. My sister would often take him to the dog park, social events, on runs, etc. but my parent's can't do that in their age. If my apartment allowed large dogs, I would take him, but I can't, and I see him maybe twice a month if possible.

Ramsey's Christmas List

I made a christmas list for him of things that might help my parents better take care of him. We're trying different food brands out because he struggles with frequent stomach issues, and we can't seem to figure out what food my sister was feeding him. This list is by no means a necessity for him, but I tried to add things to help with his boredom and keep him stimulated when my parents can't give him all their attention.

i do want to state that my family is capable of providing him with the essentials to live, we arent irresponsible. i would just like to help my parents out since a 3 year old 80-90lb doberman is a lot of work to be suddenly placed on them soley. And I worry for his health and well-being sometimes - Remi has a tendency to eat/tear random objects when he's bored.

please consider donating whatever you can. Everything goes directly to him.

thank you for taking the time to read this, and possibly reblog if possible. ❤️

[sunshine-theseus]

Bia | Kyra Cooney-Cross x Reader

Words: 2.8k Summary: you create your own boots and meet the most beautiful girl  - sorry I also used this to info dump about the necessity for boots designed specifically for women to lower injury risks Warnings: none i think. lemme know if there are any requested by - @hottiedogs375 i hope you enjoy, it's probably not my best :( definitely not as good as pequeña i think

My family was more of a cricket family than a football one. I wasn’t really fond of either, the shouting was always too much, and the food was somehow sloppy yet rock hard at the same time. Even when we watched at home. The living room would be full of sweaty angry men, sometimes my mum and sister would join if our team was actually doing well. Meanwhile you’d find me in my room at the very back corner of the attic, my room, with headphones on to block out the noise, usually designing something.

Despite the cricket background, I found myself intrigued by the design of women’s football kits. In my design and technology class in year 13, I fell down a research rabbit hole on football boots for women. It was then I discovered the lack of adaptation for the shoe. Women often just wear smaller sizes of boots designed for men, which has been one of the factors in the increase in injuries in the women’s game and I’d decided I wanted to fix that.

That’s how I found myself in front of a crowd, made up of possible brand ambassadors and sponsors, as well as a range of women’s athletes from across the world, pitching my idea.

“And that’s why brands like Bia are important to the growth of women’s football. The shape of the boot, the length of studs, the sole support, they’re all contributing factors to how players perform. When women footballers use the men’s boots, which is basically the only option, they aren’t going to grow used to the details designed for male anatomy. It’s causing stress on not only their feet but every ligament, every bone, every piece of them is suffering because they have to try and adapt to things they can’t possibly adapt to.” I felt like the closing of my speech was rather strong, especially as I watched players and possible sponsors stand to clap. The noise echoes throughout the auditorium and a happiness bubbles within me.

“Thank you for providing me this opportunity. Please, if anyone has any questions.” I gesture to the stand-up microphone in the middle aisle, and people rush to line up.

“What made you intent on creating a boot specifically for women, risking money and time on something people have tried to do before? Something you knew wasn’t guaranteed to work?”

“I know it’s funny, but my family was not a football one, so I didn’t grow up knowing much about the game. But in my a-levels design and technology class, we had to research an issue prevalent in an existing design, and I for some reason was just drawn to the idea that women don’t even get the choice of having a boot made for them. I found it unfair and uncaring. Everyone expects women to play at the same level as men yet won’t provide them with the necessary equipment to do so without them having to risk, quite possibly their career. And I couldn’t just move on after the class, I knew that I had to do something about it. So I’ve spent the past 3 years perfecting the design and building the brand, to be here in front of you all today.” Another round of applause is heard throughout the room before the next person steps up.

She’s a footballer, that I know. Young, no older than 21, my age. And very very pretty.

“This question probably isn’t quite as important as that one but, what made you pick the name Bia? It just seems like an interesting name.” people chuckle at the question, and the (newly discovered) Australian shyly looks around.

“No, I love this question. Bia is the Greek goddess of force and raw energy. She’s actually Nike’s sister, the goddess of victory and very obviously the brand. I think Bia resembles a lot of things within female athletes. They have this driving force and unbelieve power that they bring, and it just felt so right.”

“That’s sick. Can I also quickly ask, sorry, are these boots made for every female athlete? Like can someone in track and field use these or are they just for footballers?” the girl smiles brightly after her question, and I have to remember not to lose focus.

“While the primary focus is obviously footballers, I have researched the compatibility of boots between sports and yes, a professional sprinter like Sharika Jackson can use them just as well as you or Alexia Putellas could. And of course as the brand grows we’ll be able to develop even further and broaden our research further in creating boots fit for anyone.”

-

Questions carry on for a while, then I disappear behind the curtain that’s suspended behind me, rushing to remove my microphone. Eventually I slide out the side door and reach the separate room booked for ‘mingling’ after the panel.

Between talking to rich people desperate to make it seem like they care about others, and athletes who are very eager to know everything they can about the shoe, I try to keep an eye out for the nameless Australian. Every time I think I’ve spotted her; it seems she disappears. Bodies keep moving and she seems to be one of them.

Then I bump into someone. We both go stumbling but she catches me just before I head for the floor.

“I am so sorry I wasn’t looking where I was going.” And there she was, the girl I’d been looking for.

“No, no need to apologise. I’m Y/n.” I give her a hand to shake.

“Kyra.” There’s a pause before she continues.

“I’m a big fan of your boot. It’s truly incredible.” It’s hard not to blush and sputter out random sounds at her praise.

“Thank you. I’m really hoping this function works out.”

“Well I was thinking, when it does, if you need ‘a face of Bia’…”

“Oh my god yes that would be amazing. Seriously you have no idea how cool that would be.”

We talk for quite some time, and she sticks by my side when someone else comes to talk and ask question. When it’s time to go home we exchange numbers and that’s the first and last time I see her for a while.

-

5 months later is the next time I see Kyra in person. We’d both been travelling a lot, me for sponsors, ambassadors, and athletes, her for work. I’d expected to meet with her a few more times before we kick started the ‘face of Bia’ photoshoots, but as the fates had it, we found ourselves in a large warehouse, photo equipment, and many boxes of my shoes filling the space.

It suddenly all started to feel very real, and that made me nervous. So I packed myself into a small room in the corner as I tried to calm down, hoping the isolation and quiet would help me feel better.

Not even 2 minutes in, someone is following and taking a seat next to me.

“You right?” the voice is familiar and smooth.

“Yeah, yeah of course I am. It’s not like the biggest thing I’ve ever worked for in my life is basically in its final stage of release in the next room and I’m freaking out about it. What if they aren’t actually good? What if th-”

“I’m going to stop you right there. You sent me a pair 2 months ago, and I told you I would test them before saying anything, and I did just that. I took them to training. Ran on the pitch, walked, kicked the ball, passed, made risky moves. And what did I tell you after that?”

“‘These are the best fucking shoes ever.’ But what if they aren’t?”

“Listen Y/n, how many other athletes, not just me or footballers, did you send a pair to for testing?”

“Like 43. Basically every one that came to the panel plus some more.”

“How many told you they were good?”

“43.”

“Exactly. So we’re going to go out there together, you’re gonna tell the photographer what you want to see, every opinion, every change, anything, and we’re going to finalise your fucking dream.” Kyra picks me up without me even agreeing, and basically carries me out to the set up.

Ali Kreiger, despite her recent retirement, was currently being photographed. She’d been the one to reach out to me when she heard from, someone, and wanted to be an ambassador. I probably screamed so loud my neighbours thought I was getting murdered that day.

“They’re going to want a couple photos of you too probably. Either with the shoes or with one or all of us. Okay?” Kyra rubs a hand up and down my back as I take it all in.

I nod vigorously and try to shake my hands to get rid of the remaining nerves, eventually taking a seat next to the photographer, Eve. She asks for my input on every shot and manages to carry out my vision without fail every single time. As players filter in and out, I begin to truly relax and allow myself to take in the moment.

Zimmorlei Farquharson and Poppy Boltz, two AFLW players for the Brisbane Lions, were being photographed together when Kyra slid into the spare chair next to me. She didn’t say anything but when I looked over, I had to quickly look away again. Her outfit wasn’t something out of the ordinary, a loose cropped top and bike shorts, plus the sage green boots she was promoting. But the strip of skin that was exposed between her shirt and shorts was enticing and it was hard not to stare at the way her muscles contracted every time she moved in the seat.

I’m certain she caught me staring.

As she stands to take over the Australian Football players, Kyra leans over and whispers in my ear. It takes me a moment to process her words and by then she’s already under the lights.

“Good thing we’re taking some pictures. They’ll last longer.” To say I was stumped was a rather big understatement. Was she flirting with me?

I don’t get to think about it too much, Kyra looking my way every time she changed position or began to play around with the ball provided.

Not long after, I’m asked to join all the girls in front of the camera for a few shots. I knew it was coming but my heart still dropped into my stomach, and I choked on my breath. As expected, it’s Kyra who grabs my hand and instructs me to breathe slowly. Her thumb runs over the back of my hand and the motion begins to sooth me.

I take a place in front of the camera and the group of athletes. I’m not quite sure how to stand, but Kyra takes the space behind me, resting an arm over my shoulder and the other around my waist. It forces me to lean back naturally and as the girls around us take a stance, Eve continues to shoot.

“You and Kyra have a lot of chemistry by the looks of it, and she’s who you’re most comfortable with. Use that. Make it natural. The girls around you will adapt.” I expect the comment from Eve, but it’s Ali who puts a hand on my shoulder and reassures me.

With that instruction, and a nod from Eve, Kyra jumps on my back. It’s a pose that helps with showing off the boot and making me laugh. She then jumps off and takes my hands, turning me to face her as she dips. I rush to catch her as she falls, our faces a hair width apart.

Before I can think, I close the gap. My lips press hard against her’s as the camera shutter repeatedly goes off, but I don’t think anything of it. Until I pull away.

I almost drop her once my thoughts catch up to me.

“I am so sorry. What the fuck did I just do?” the rest of the girls had already walked away, so it was just us.

“Nothing you should regret or feel bad for.” Kyra stands right in front of me, our lips basically touching again.

“And maybe you should do it again.” I pause for a moment before leaning back down, kissing her again.

~~~~~

It takes three more weeks for the official brand release. After years of designing, making, spending every cent I had on these boots, Bia was officially the first woman specific sports boot.

Kyra’s first Arsenal game wearing them was the day of the release. She ended up talking about them in post-match interview after being asked “how were you excelling so well in the midfield today?” Not only was Bia’s sale numbers skyrocketing and the media account blowing up, so was my own.

I’d of course attended the match, excited to see them as an officially released boot. Someone had spotted me in the crowd and tweeted about it, talking about ‘the creator of that new boot brand is watching Kyra rep them for the first time live’. Someone else had caught me hugging Kyra on the pitch after the game and giving her a kiss on the cheek.

The rumours could only be expected. They also couldn’t be denied. Not without lying.

“I’m so proud of you.” The smooth Australian accent almost lulls me to sleep as we rest in Kyra’s bed, the sheets hiding our bare skin.

Her fingers trace shapes on my hip as she holds me, and I kiss along her collar bones and neck.

“And also very, very grateful for your genius brain creating those boots. Not only for helping my game play, but for bringing you to me.”

“I’m also grateful for my genius brain bringing us together.” I tease before softly kissing her.

It’d been impossible to escape her charm after our kiss at the photoshoot, so naturally we went on a date. And another, before she asked me to be her girlfriend. Eve sent me those photos just in case we wanted them in the brand release post. They currently sat in my hard drive, but it was very tempting to post a couple.

Kyra wanted a moment of privacy before the world knew, but I knew it didn’t matter whether it was out or a secret, as long as I had her.

-

A new power couple is on the rise in the world of Women’s Football. Creator of new women’s sports boots brand Bia, Y/n L/n, spotted with girlfriend, Arsenal and Matildas midfielder Kyra Cooney-Cross at a café in North London this morning before the London Derby. The couple confirmed their relationship mere days ago with photos of the lovebirds kissing from L/n’s brand shoot.

I laugh at the article as Kyra pulls into the Emirates parking, hand in mine. I’d become rather acquainted with her teammates and they begged me to come to the London Derby on the weekend. I couldn’t refuse when my girlfriend pulled out the puppy dog eyes and promised to ban me from any sort of affection, specifically kisses, for the week.

“You better win. I have a bet going with Niamh that you’ll beat her and I cannot lose a bet against her again.” Kyra chuckles and leaves with a kiss, sending me into the friends and family section of the stands.

It was nerve wracking going alone, but it was for Kyra and that was all I cared about. Supporting her like she supported me.

-

Kyra doesn’t start, which had been expected. Despite it, the girls were playing well and were up 3-1 at half-time. No yellow cards for either team had most people shocked though. The derby was known to be rough and physical, yet it seemed things were rather calm for the situation at hand.

There’s a substitute at half-time that puts Kyra back on the pitch. I blow a kiss when she looks my way as she jogs out and she pretends to catch it and place it on her cheek. Both of us are unaware of the interaction being caught on the big screen while people wait for the countdown.

It’s when extra time is announced that everyone in the stadium knows Arsenal have won the game. The Chelsea players look tired and defeated and the Arsenal girls don’t look much different, apart from the massive smiles that grace each one of their faces. The final whistle blows, and the crowd erupts in deafening cheers for the gunners, and I can’t help joining in.

After congratulating the blues on their performance and huddling with her own teammates, Kyra comes running for me. The guard on the other side of the barrier grows wary when I stand, clearly about to jump it, but Kyra gives him the okay and grabs me by the waist, helping me join her on the pitch.

“I’m so fucking proud of you.” I whisper as she stands on her tippy toes.

Her arms wrap tightly around my neck and mine go around her waist as she pulls me in for a kiss. It’s deep and passionate and the crowd around us cheers, some of the girls joining in.

“We’re both kinda killing it aren’t we?” I let out a laugh as she hops on my back, pointing me in the direction of her Matilda’s teammates, even Sam, who are grouped in the middle of the field.

She sprinkles kisses around my face as they talk between each other and I’ve never felt more content.

Fuck cricket, football is the sport for me.

[coeluvr]

“in the snow”

| 0.7k | Hunter x Reader | 16+ |

Author's notes: sorry to my 4am thirsty anon, I couldn't do what you wanted and this is a tiny bit angsty, forgive me? <3

The heaviness of the snowfall made visibility almost non-existent.

The biting cold pierced through every layer of clothing you wore. However, your body ran warmer than most, so the freezing temperatures didn’t affect you as much.

Hunter, on the other hand, didn’t fare as well. Their body ran colder, and you could see them shivering.

You stumbled upon a small, secluded house in the forest. It was old and worn, but it had a fireplace. You didn’t waste any time gathering firewood and igniting the hearth, the crackling flames brightening the room.

As you sat on the creaky wooden floor, you pulled the blanket tightly around both of you.

It was a single blanket, barely enough to cover you completely, but you didn’t mind. You knew that your body was warm and Hunter needed the warmth, and you were willing to provide it in any way you could.

Hunter, shivering uncontrollably, leaned against you, their body seeking solace and respite from the frigid air.

The crackling of the fire served as a soothing soundtrack to the stillness around you. As they wrapped their arms around you, their head found a comfortable spot nestled against your neck. It was an intimate embrace, one born out of necessity rather than desire.

The feeling of Hunter’s touch, their lips grazing against the exposed skin on your neck, sent a shiver down your own spine. It was an unusual sensation, knowing that Hunter would never have indulged in such intimate contact under ordinary circumstances.

“This would be more efficient if we didn’t have our clothes on,” Hunter murmured, their voice groggy with fatigue. There was no mischief or humor in their words, only a genuine desire to alleviate the cold that gripped them.

You felt warm, partly from the warmth emanating from the fireplace and partly from the unexpected suggestion, you asked, “What?”

Hunter didn’t answer, instead they tightened their hold on you.

Unable to decipher the meaning behind Hunter’s words, you leaned back into them, and your eyes fluttered closed. The sound of the crackling fire melded with the gentle rhythm of your breathing.

However, as you allowed yourself to relax, you felt a peculiar sensation. Hunter’s hands, which had been initially wrapped around your torso, began to shift gradually. They moved slowly, cautiously, until they settled between your thighs.

The cold of their hands made you shiver.

Barely above a whisper, Hunter’s voice reached your ear, the words slightly slurred, “It’s warmer between your thighs.”

Their words hung in the air, a statement that intrigued you. It was as though the grogginess clouding their mind blurred the boundaries between friendship and intimacy, blurring the lines of propriety.

Part of you wanted to question what was going through their mind, to understand their thoughts. But another part of you wanted to indulge in this moment. After all, it was you who had convinced Hunter to indulge in this closeness, and now the boundaries were being tested even further.

Tentatively, you parted your legs ever so slightly, granting them further access to the intimate space between your thighs.

A low chuckle escaped Hunter’s lips, sending a tingle down your spine. Their hands, previously tracing the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, now moved to firmly close the distance between them. The warmth that had briefly enveloped your most intimate area receded, leaving a lingering sense of anticipation.

“Don’t do that, not for someone like me,” Hunter whispered, their voice a mix of desire and resignation, a plea for you to maintain the boundaries that have been established between you. Their words carried a weight of self-restraint, a reminder of the limitations they believed they possessed.

As you began to consider Hunter’s words, their hands found their way back to your torso. Hunter drew you closer, wrapping their arms securely around your waist.

Feeling their breath tickling your skin as they buried their face into the crook of your neck, made you gulp. The intimacy of the moment, the closeness, was both comforting and electrifying. In a hushed, heartfelt tone, they murmured, “Thank you.”

Those two simple words held a depth of emotion you hadn’t anticipated. It was as if this moment meant more to them than you could have imagined.

[i-heart-hxh]

In all honesty why do you think Killua made the number two comment to Gon? I feel like he doesn’t realize how messed up that is to say to someone who has gone through extensive trauma trying to prove himself to a father who also put him in “second place” to something he deemed more important. It was hurtful and I don’t see how that can be repaired now. Even if they do reunite Gon is going to just step on eggshells and fear that even one slip up will cause Killua to just leave him again. Idk I just feel like separation wasn’t the solution here. They needed to talk and then stay together. But “taking a break” rarely works out for any relationship. It also sucks that Gon constantly told Killua how important he was to him but Killua NEVER returned this sentiment verbally so Gon’s just stuck thinking he’s a piece of shit who destroyed his most important relationship. Killua really did just say “screw Gon I have Alluka now”.

Hello!

I don't agree with this interpretation at all; to me, there are a number of complex reasons why Killua made that comment, and I don't think it will destroy their relationship by any means.

This post--In-Depth analysis on the Hidden Reasons behind Gon & Killua's separation scene (ep 147) Why Gon is 'Number 2'--is the best starting point for anyone trying to understand the separation, in my opinion. It's cohesive, uses supporting evidence from the series and demonstrates the careful wording used in the separation, and it makes more sense than any other interpretation I've read of why Killua would make such a comment to Gon. I keep referring back to this post because I truly think it holds keys to understanding the separation that other posts I've seen don't.

In addition to the insight provided in that post--where Killua is trying to put some distance between him and Gon for Gon's safety and well-being, essentially--I also think it's:

a) Partly how Killua is trying to steel himself to leave Gon, by telling himself, Gon, and Alluka that Alluka is his priority for now

b) Part of Killua's campaign of teasing Gon lightheartedly on the topic, to bring it up while at the same time downplaying the emotional effects of what happened between them--because when they're separating is not the right time for them to seriously address it or work through it

I do think the second place comment hurt Gon a little, but...Gon is already aware that he hurt Killua, and after his life was literally saved by Alluka (Nanika), being put in "second place" is not the worst outcome ever, honestly. Plus, it confirms he's still one of the most important people to Killua even after everything that happened between them! Killua is not saying Gon is trash to him now, even though it is a bit of a jab.

I've also said before that I think Togashi had Killua make this comment with awareness that we, as the audience, would be like, "Uh-huh Killua, sure, interesting of you to say this so shortly after you centered your entire life on him for basically the whole series and even seriously considered doing a lovers suicide with this guy..." We're most likely supposed to see it as Killua not being fully honest, even though Alluka does obviously mean a lot to Killua and by necessity she has to be his priority now. Plus, even Alluka herself says she'll give Killua back to Gon after a while. She must have some idea of how much Gon means to Killua, to be so willing to "give him back." I've said this before, but I see this line from Alluka about giving Killua back to Gon as a promise from Togashi to the audience that this isn't forever.

Gon isn't clueless; he knows Killua cares about him even though Killua struggles to express it verbally. The degree of trust and unspoken understanding between them in the dodgeball match is a good (albeit complicated) example of this. The two didn't communicate to the degree they needed to during Chimera Ant Arc, which makes sense because they're young and have their own issues and it was terribly traumatic for both for them, but they also have a good understanding of each other overall, and it's not giving Gon enough credit to assume he has no idea just because Killua hasn't said it. He doesn't know the full extent of Killua's feelings for him, certainly (I hope he will someday!), but he is aware Killua cares about him. Even when it comes to the separation, Killua expressing his pain shows that he still cares about Gon! He's saying that what happened still hurts, because he still cares! He's making light of it, but it's honestly a step in the right direction for him to be discussing it at all. If they can't be honest with each other about how what happened impacted them, they can't heal.

Of course it would be better for their relationship if they talked it out fully and came to some sort of resolution, but neither of them were in a place where they could do that quite yet. Killua is too closed up emotionally and hurting from seeing Gon essentially die in front of him, and Gon needs to recover from essentially throwing his life away and saying those things to Killua that we know he regrets. They do need some time apart to reflect and grow.

Are the two boys in a complicated emotional situation currently? Yes. Do I think this dooms them to never reconnect or heal their relationship? Absolutely not. I see their separation as more of a "We gotta go our separate ways for now because we both have things we have to deal with," (both externally and internally) than anything final. They agree to stay in touch, they express sadness at having to part, they make it clear several times that this is a temporary parting. Why make them clearly unsatisfied with having to part if they're not going to have an opportunity to make things right later?

[dykeiism]

why are radfems against sex work?

i'd like to make a post to summarize my views on pornography, prositution, and other forms of sex work. it will be useful for me to have it all in one place, and i'll continue to update it as i learn more about the topic. i've broken down my arguments into three categories: demand, consent, and intimacy. there's a lot of overlap between the categories, but i still find it helpful to have it organized in this manner. ↶ೃ✧˚demand. ❃ ↷ ˊ- sex work creates a demand that will be fulfilled with sex trafficking.

let's imagine the best-case scenario: a woman doing sex work because she wants to. she genuinely enjoys this type of work, and her clients treat her well. this is understood by some to be "ethical sex work."

as a business, sex work must actively encourage the demand for sex work to keep increasing. porn industries want to create porn addicts. they want to create a pornsick society. that’s how businesses survive. it's horribly optimistic to imagine that every person who wants to use pornography or prostitutes will do so ethically (assuming that ethical sex work is possible). but let's imagine for a moment that ethical sex work exists, and that everyone who wants to consume sex work does so ethically. would there ever be enough women who are willingly going into sex work to satisfy this demand? as long as there is a demand, there will be sex trafficking to meet that demand. the “ethical” sex worker is a very very small minority of sex workers who throws every other sex worker and prostituted woman/girl under the bus for her own gain.

sex workers need men to use porn and prostitutes, and they will encourage men to do so. is this good for feminism? do you think these are good men? do you think these men respect the women in their lives? do they have healthy sexual relationships, or are they sexually reliant on static fantasies created by strangers who they have no personal connection or intimacy with?

↶ೃ✧˚consent. ❃ ↷ ˊ- consent can't be bought. consent can’t be bought--in fact, the mainstream conception of "consent" isn't one that respects women's sexual desires. it's a copout that allows men to do whatever they want to women, as long as the woman agrees to having it done to her. sex is something you do with someone, not to them. so many women (including myself) have uncritically consented to sexual activities in the heat of the moment because our minds were clouded by confusion, surprise, or anxiety, and we didn't feel like we could take a moment to think things through. think of it from the perspective of someone who uses a prostitute, in the best case scenario (in which the woman is pursuing prostitution of her own volition and not out of necessity): you found a woman who you're sexually interested in, but she isn't interested in you. instead of offering her a worthwhile sexual experience, you use your money to blow past her disinterest and buy her consent. you then begin to touch and penetrate a woman who wouldn't be interested in you if not for the money you offered her. you see no problem with this. since you are paying this woman, she is providing you a service. you have a one-sided sexual encounter where you use someone else's body to fulfill your own desires. think about the men who do this, and the men who consume pornography. how do you think they view sexuality? how do you think they treat their own sexual partners, after consuming so many static sexual fantasies that are devoid of any personal intimacy? ↶*ೃ✧˚intimacy. ❃ ↷ ˊ- i've decided to put "intimacy" at the end, because it is the most subjective of the three. upon reading this, it may become quite clear that these views are influenced by my personal experiences with sex work, sexual trauma, and christianity.

if you’re sex positive, you’ll be against porn. porn misrepresents sexuality by completely divorcing sexual pleasure from love, intimacy, and vulnerability. witnessing such intimate imagery of total strangers will inevitably mess up the way you approach your own sexuality, and the way you interact with sexual partners. porn puts a price on sexuality and makes it into something that can be bought and sold.  porn consumption encourages hookup culture

[maxdibert]

Hello :))

I was reading some of your posts and I found them very interesting and educational, so I decided to ask.

What do you think Severus' relationship with the other DEs was like and how do you think it changed from the first war to the second? Cause I think thats another place where the power dynamics in Severus' life were very strong. Also why would Voldemort give the "poorest and least relevant", in terms of status, of the Death Eaters a favor as great as forgiving Lily? Did Voldemort have a different relationship or perception of Severus than the ones he had with/of thr others?

I think the similarities between Tom Riddle and Severus are enough to generate an involuntary respect from Voldemort towards another halfblood who was trying to get out of the mud he had been pushed into. I say involuntary because Voldemort would probably never want to admit that he sees his "old self" reflected in someone who is considered pathetic by the rest of the society he frequented (blood purists).

Reading some of the Sirius' posts I was thinking that Bellatrix's vision (in the second war especially) of Severus could be a lot like the one Sirius/James had, torn between that sense of superiority that was taught to them and the insecurity of knowing that somehow the halfblood was gradually taking away the place of other purebloods way more important (Lucius and all of the pureblood who were not in the inner circle) next to their lord. Why does Voldemort allow this displacement? What does Severus provide (aside from the information, he is a spy but I belive he could had leave Severus out of it and keep him just as an informant I he really wanted to) that no one else can give him?

This is longer than I expected, but just wanted to know what you think and Im not sure if you already talked about this. Hope you are having a good day I love your posts🫶

This is quite an interesting topic. Personally, I think of Severus as the Slytherin equivalent of Remus or Peter: someone who associated with the strongest out of necessity. Probably people like Lucius (who was older and likely already involved in shady things) must have noticed his potential. On top of that, it was obvious that he wasn’t someone with many social skills, and it was also apparent that he didn’t have many resources, making him perfectly manipulable. Severus was someone who wanted to fit in and find a safe space, and in exchange for that, he was probably willing to "sell" his talent. No wonder spells like Levicorpus became widely known throughout the school. Some people theorize that maybe someone else read the Potions book, but I think it’s more likely that Severus shared his magical successes with his housemates as a way to gain validation and respect as a wizard. His housemates probably used his spells here and there, and that’s how they spread. That seems the most logical to me.

I think the dynamic must have started and continued as something very paternalistic, like, “Let’s take in this one here who has no name or bloodline but has a lot of talent and is willing to do anything for us.” This is very common in gangs, cults, or religious groups: welcoming highly vulnerable individuals and exploiting their gaps and needs. And in this, I think Lucius probably played a significant role, judging by how, throughout the saga, various characters reference how well-regarded he is by Severus. In my personal headcanon, I think Lucius saw potential in Severus and wanted to make him his project: turning the poor boy who didn’t even have a penny to his name and was of mixed blood into someone who could demonstrate that, through effort and the "right" ideas, he could become “useful.” Kind of like the token figures that far-right parties use to excuse their racism and misogyny, saying they have racialized people or women to justify their positions. A way of proving that the problem isn’t the people themselves but rather their unwillingness to "adapt."

This idea holds a lot of weight in my imagination because I think that, in those early years, if someone could set the premise that someone like Severus should be respected in his house, it had to be someone who commanded respect within it. Lucius was older, had been a prefect, had a name and power, and the relationship between the two characters suggests that he could have been a sort of “mentor” to Severus. This would also explain his close relationship with Narcissa and how she knew how to get to his house without any trouble.

The issue with Voldemort is more complicated. Maybe Voldemort saw his talent and found it useful. Severus was an expert Occlumens to the point where even Voldemort couldn’t read his mind, a potions genius, and an excellent Legilimens. Perhaps he primarily valued the talent of his followers, seeing them as tools to achieve his goals. Maybe he thought it was a trivial matter to grant Lily the chance to live if it meant keeping one of his most talented followers happy. What’s clear to me is that, due to his inability to understand others’ emotions and feelings, Voldemort underestimated Severus’s request. Maybe he thought it was just a crush and that Severus wanted to shag her (I think this because of his comment about Severus supposedly having plenty of purebloods to choose from) and that once he got what he wanted, he’d move on. Typical horny young people stuff. I don’t think he stopped to consider the deeper implications of that request because he wasn’t someone who could see beyond his own navel, and he tended to underestimate his followers. I don’t blame him; most of his followers were fanatics who were easily manipulated. It wouldn’t be strange to assume he lumped Severus in with the rest, thinking that given his background and the fact that he joined the Death Eaters under Lucius Malfoy’s wing, he was just an impressionable kid desperate for a father figure (like Barty, lol).

I think unconscious similarities might have played a role, although I don’t think Voldemort saw Severus as a reflection of himself because Voldemort is far too narcissistic for that. In fact, that narcissism is his greatest weakness since it blinds him to others’ emotions and leads him to make mistakes (Lily sacrificing herself for Harry, Severus betraying him for Lily, or Narcissa betraying him for Draco). In that sense, I think if Voldemort could have liked something about Severus, it would have been the fact that it was thanks to his talent and wit that he managed to position himself above people who had everything from birth. That and his disdain for his Muggle side due to daddy issues could also be part of it. Still, it’s hard to know because I don’t see Voldemort as very rational in this aspect—he’s more of a narcissistic psychopath. Perhaps he also thought that since Severus came from nothing, he might have more hunger for power than anyone else precisely because he had nothing, and maybe that appealed to him. Whatever the case, it’s clear that Tommy didn’t know how to interpret or deeply analyze people, at least not beyond what suited him. His massive ego caused him to underestimate more than one person, which later cost him the war.

Of course, Bellatrix couldn’t stand him. Bellatrix and Sirius are very similar and behave in similar ways, only Sirius has fewer mental issues and is on the "good" side. But both are impulsive, loyal to a fault, somewhat sadistic, and prone to letting their anger take over. In HBP, we can see how Bellatrix distrusts Severus and the way she can’t stand him. Obviously, it’s not the same kind of hatred Sirius has for him, but it’s clear they have a very strained relationship to the point where Severus enjoys being rather sassy with her and throwing some verbal jabs. It’s evident she doesn’t respect him because he’s a half-blood and is somewhat envious of his position with Voldemort. Meanwhile, he doesn’t respect her because he knows she’s a crazy fanatic. At least Bellatrix is more honest than her cousin and wouldn’t hesitate to admit that Severus’s origins pissed her off. Sirius, in that sense, was always far more hypocritical. I’m not exactly sure what Severus offered Voldemort to earn his complete trust, and I think it’s a shame Rowling took many things for granted in her story and didn’t bother to expand or explain certain parts because there’s a lot of material there. Referring to what I mentioned earlier, I think it likely had to do with a mix of the talent Severus had demonstrated in disciplines similar to those Voldemort mastered and the fact that Voldemort tended to underestimate those around him. Perhaps he thought Severus, given his background and history, was more susceptible to blindly following him.

(This turned out a bit long, almost Biblical—my apologies, lol.)

[thegirlwhowrites642]

Hi, please free to ignore( huge fan of your metas btw)

What are your thoughts on Peter pettigrew? In swm we saw him fanboying over james to being responsible for his death. Just because he was afraid or he never really loved his friends. Many people say James and Sirius treated him shitty thats why he betrayed. Some even say he was just a tag along. Please share your thoughts.

First of all, thank you!

(also, unless they are rude, I don't ignore any questions, it might just take me two years to answer)

Peter Pettigrew

My very controversial opinion on Peter is that I love him (as a character).

To me, Peter is one of those characters who represent how Rowling's clear lack of self-awareness as a person translates in her work into her being unable to recognize her strengths as a writer. The majority of the most interesting things she comes up with are not the ones she focuses on.

And that's the case for Peter Pettigrew, who might be the Marauder with the most interesting story.

It's way too easy to reduce him to a coward as the author seems to want you to believe. And even claiming he didn't love his friends is a flattening of his character.

You can have a tendency to be influenced by peer pressure all you want but you don't become an unregistered animagus to help someone if you don't love the friend you are doing that for and you don't have a bit of courage (especially considering how long the whole thing was and that he wasn't particularly talented). He risked extremely severe consequences on his body due to the possibility of the process going wrong and he risked Azkaban for being unregistered.

That's fundamentally the opposite behavior of the one he later has with the Potters.

I also think it's important to point out how Remus is not a close relative (father, son, brother) and how the help Peter provides is not essential to Remus' survival, it's emotional comfort. The lack of necessity of the animagus matter and the easily cancellable bond with Remus increase the braveness and love of Peter's act (in contrast for example with something like what Narcissa does with her son by lying to Voldemort).

I think Peter's story is the one of someone who lost his courage, not the one of a person who never had it.

Doesn't this also make it so much more delicious how his downfall is caused by the return of a glimpse of honor?

I do agree with the fact that in SWM, James and Sirius don't treat him particularly well, especially Sirius, but I don't think they are that aware of it, especially James. They are a bit crude, and they are arrogant. They are two bright posh 16yo guys in a boarding school in the 70s. I don't expect from them a particularly high level of sensitivity in how they talk to people, especially to someone they take for granted knows to be their friend. Sirius is probably more aware of it, but I believe James to be quite unaware of himself at this point in the timeline. This is before his maturation really kicks in, his whole interaction with Lily shows a lack of self-awareness in how he talks to people (we know Lily turns him into a bit of an idiot, the problem is that he doesn't seem to be aware of it). Sirius on the other hand seems a lot more self-aware than James. A lot of people are not going to like what I'm about to say but: James is canonically a better person than Sirius.

And yet, it is abundantly clear that both James and Sirius love Peter.

James gives into Peter's hands his own life and the ones of his wife and son. Sirius gives in Peter's hands the lives of the family he chose.

In the Shrieking Shack, under all the pain Sirius has for the death of James and Lily, it is evident that there's also the pain that comes from the betrayal of a friend.

"THEN YOU SHOULD HAVE DIED!" roared Black. "DIED RATHER THAN BETRAY YOUR FRIENDS, AS WE WOULD HAVE DONE FOR YOU!" - Chapter 19, Harry Potter and The Prisoner of Azkaban

Lily herself is very attached to Peter, in her letter to Sirius, she calls him Wormy (how cute is that?). And, let's remember that she too puts her life and the ones of her husband and son in Peter's hands.

It's too easy to say Peter was just a tagalong, that they didn't love him. It incredibly diminishes the pain of his act.

I also would like to point out that Peter isn't stupid. He was a double agent, he managed to frame Sirius by using in his favor people’s low opinion of his skills (and Remus and Sirius' rocky relationship). James, Sirius, and Remus might have thought of themselves as smarter than Peter but I don't think they actually believed him to be stupid. Considering who the Marauders are, their knowing how good of a liar, and how cunning Peter could be, would be a perfect explanation of why they became friends in the first place.

Does this mean they all loved Peter but Peter only loved Remus out of his friends?

We can't really be sure of his feelings for Sirius, but the admiration he shows for James and the sense of guilt we know he has for his double agent activities don't really align with that image.

I think Peter's fear for his own life ended up winning over the love for his friends.

But why at this point? Why not at Hogwarts?

Something quite interesting is how Peter's father is the only parent of the Marauders who is never mentioned, not in the books, not in any additional material. Doesn't that align just so well with Peter always putting himself at the service of the most important male figure around? First James, and then after school, with the war going on, Voldemort.

Isn't it such a fitting image, Peter growing up without a father, with a too-cuddling mother whom he ends up resenting, faulting her for the absence of the father? It's so natural to paint him as a young man crushed by a sense of inadequacy towards an image of masculinity he idealizes but can't fulfill, supported by a society filled with a very toxic sense of masculinity and an absent father he can sew on any fantasy he wants.

When Peter was at Hogwarts, being friends with James, and being part of the Marauders, gave Peter a sense of security that allowed him to be brave enough to prioritize his love for his friends over himself.

Out in the real world, though, Voldemort is the dominant man and being positioned against the Dark Lord takes away the sense of security he had as a student. Both times Peter goes to Voldemort, he does it because he doesn't feel safe.

It's also abundantly clear how Peter's siding with Voldemort doesn't come from ideology. He becomes an animagus for Remus, he's a dear friend of Lily.

Peter dies because Voldemort doesn't trust him, and he is right in not trusting him. Somewhere in Peter, there's still the boy who risked his life for a friend.

Try to tell me this is not an interesting character.

He's still a coward overall, but a complex one.

Also, Peter Pettigrew is a clear victim of pretty privilege when it comes to the fandom. I'm ready to bet whatever you want that if he had been described as handsome the most popular ship with Sirius would be Sirus/Peter.

Actually, he didn't even have to be described as handsome, he just needed to not be described as ugly. Draco is described as having a pointy face and people have been lying to themselves claiming he's incredibly handsome for the last twenty-five years.

[falsemilkbun]

Haven't You Heard the Word of Your Body? (ch. 1 rough draft)

I enjoy sharing process stuff and I'm still on my forty eight hour handgun purchase wait for my archive of our own account, so here's a rough draft of the first chapter of my run at applying a variation on omegaverse to elves. There's no inny-outy in this part, no one has boobs, I can put it on here...

This kept happening. They would encounter a monster, a fight would ensue, and the captain would deplete his mana stores because, as Kabru was learning through experience, he was no good at judging his own limits. He would march past the point of exhaustion. He would forget - or, worse, refuse - food and water. He was an absolute pain to put down to sleep. All these things had become Kabru’s responsibility, at least for the week it took Captain Mithrun’s team to reach them down in the depths of the dungeon.

It was getting worse, too. He grew weaker every time, and the periods during which he could be considered recovered got shorter and shorter. On that day, it had already happened twice when Kabru found himself ducking under Mithrun’s swooning body to catch him. Elves were lightweight, which was a blessing of a kind, but he was dead weight this time. His arms had lost the strength, or maybe the coordination, or even both, to grip anything. He couldn’t be slung over Kabru’s back, he had to be carried folded up against his chest like a little child. The most the Canaries’ captain could manage was to curl his body inward, pressing his pained face against Kabru’s chestplate.

This was more serious than mana exhaustion. He was sick, and Kabru had even less experience in nursing than he had in cooking.

The sweat crystalizing to his hair and the way his breath turned bright, solid white were visible signals but Kabru could feel the fever burning through the body in his arms. How long had he been sick? Was it the cold, or had he been unwell for days and never realized or said anything?

No matter. In the present moment, Kabru needed solutions to problems and not answers to questions, and the solution to their main problem would be finding a place to rest.

It didn’t take long to find one. He must have really wanted it.

Even if Mithrun had warned him not to want for too much, how could he be expected to stop? He had needs, and unlike Mithrun his mind and his heart registered them.

The shelter that the dungeon provided for them was too perfect. The rough wooden door was ajar, even, and he didn’t even have to set Mithrun down to toe it open and step inside. It as a lot like a sparse, one-room home, though the exterior consisted of little more than a shingled outcropping from the dungeon wall that shielded a pile of firewood from the ever-falling snow.

It wasn’t frigid in the shelter, but it certainly wasn’t toasty warm, either.

There was a bed, a narrow one dressed sparingly in a sheet over straw bedding, and he rolled Mithrun on to this. The elf immediately curled in on himself as if in pain, and Kabru asked his forgiveness to get water and light a lamp so that he could start treating him. 

Water was easy. The dungeon had provided it in the form of a basin on the floor that filled endlessly from the stone mouth of a spigot in the wall in the shape of a lion’s head. It was clear and cool and Kabru used it to soak the spare articles of clothes he could spare from his pack. He wasn’t thinking about fever so much as heatstroke when he did this, but he was forced by necessity to assume that the conditions were similar enough that he might as well try. He left the soaked rags draping over the edge of the basin and used a stout sprig of straw from the bed and the fire starter in his pack to light the  lamps on the walls.

Mithrun was watching him now, he discovered. His face was in full red flush and his eye was wide.

“It’s all right,” Kabru said, out of habit. He couldn’t be sure Mithrun knew or cared he was in danger. He stooped by the bed and pushed on Mithrun’s shoulder to turn him over onto his back. There was no resistance. “I have to remove some of your clothes to treat you. Is that all right?”

No response. Mithrun’s eye had closed again, and he seemed most focused on drawing and expelling breath and enduring whatever pain was subtly contorting his face. He did experience discomfort, Kabru had observed, just not any immediate motivation to resolve it.

“Captain?” He had to try again.

Nothing. No acknowledgement but a gasp that shuddered through him and dramatically raised his slight chest. Sometimes, having been raised with elves, KAbru could forget how small they were, how frail they looked. What he’d mistaken for uncharacteristic toughness on Mithrun’s part had been a lack of care for his own wellbeing, after all. Elves weren’t hardy, the danger to him was very real.

Well. If it turned out that losing his clothes was the one thing he could still care about, then he could be angry about it later.

“Whatever.” Kabru sighed. Mithrun wasn’t even opening his eye at that point. If he was going to be speaking to himself alone, there wasn’t any need for considerate speech. 

He exposed Mithrun’s throat first, then wrestled him lightly around to pull his tunic over his head. Mithrun cringed when he touched him, but there was no way to be sure if he did this as any kind of protest to the treatment. Kabru convinced himself, for the sake of having the wherewithal to continue, that he was simply dazed and uncomfortable. All he knew was someone was manhandling him and shifting him around when his body needed rest, that was all.

And even if it wasn’t…

But it was. It couldn’t be anything else. 

The expanse of Mithrun’s body left bare by the Canary armor under his tunic was scattered with pale scars. He was like Milsril, chewed up by his dedication to the Canaries’ cause. The slim lines where his skin had knitted itself back together caught the light from the lamps and turned it silvery.

That was routine enough. He was a soldier, his career was impossibly long to Kabru’s mind. It shouldn’t be distracting.

Kabru stripped the upper portion of Mithrun’s armor next, and the silver-threaded flesh of his chest swelled and rose to his palm when he slid a hand under the stiffened spider silk to lift it away. It was firm and smooth and furnace hot.

Behind the wall of his ribcage, his heartbeat was frantic.

There really was something wrong with his body, not just his attitude, like Kabru had suspected. There had to be. This was too sudden and severe for any other explanation to apply. Wracking his brain for any monstrous or magical effects that could bring on such a condition turned up nothing.

Was he simply frail after all he’d been through, pushing past his compromised stamina to achieve the only goal he had left? He looked it, flushed and breathless and half-stripped on a bed built for one person almost twice his size.

The cool air in the shelter would help, surely.

Kabru went to the basin and took two cloths back to the bed, a smaller one to drape across Mithrun’s throat and a broader one to put under his arms and across his chest. The chill must have shocked him, because his eyebrows knotted up and he made a sound like someone trying to cry out in their sleep.

“Easy, I’m helping you.” He felt like his foster mother in that moment, speaking to him before he trusted her. Patient and kind. Even if he’d never go ‘home’ to her if he could help it, he couldn’t convince himself that her love for him wasn’t genuine. Or that he was echoing her words out of sheer habit. “You’ll start to feel better soon. Just lie still and don’t stress your body any further.”

He took water from the basin in one of the tin cups in his mess kit and coaxed Mithrun into sitting up enough to drink from it without choking. Or, really, he scooped and hoisted him into such a position and let the hot frame of his body rest against him while he drank. His eye, open but just barely, was a watchful sliver reflecting the light like his scars had. He seemed just a little more lucid, and Kabru felt proud.

“Captain?”

No words, but the tarnished circle of Mithrun’s iris did glide in the direction of Kabru’s face. He could at least recognize that Kabru was speaking to him. That was a good sign.

He brought him more water and wet down the cloth for his throat again. When he returned to Mithrun’s side, he found himself pressed on by a body insistent that he hold it up with his own.

Was he one of those people who got needy when they were sick? That would be bothersome.

“Are you cold?” Kabru asked. 

Waves the color of fog rasped on steel when Mithrun shook his head. He was looking up at Kabru again, his expression open in a way Kabru might have called expectant if he believed Mithrun could expect anything from anyone.

“Lie down, then.” Kabru helped him. “I’m going to finish… dressing you for sleep, if that’s all right. Is it?”

“Yes.” The word was almost a breath, but it came without hesitation or consideration. He’d been understood, whatever faculties Mithrun had for protecting his dignity were engaged.

The rest of the armor came off, then Mithrun’s boots, and the hose he laced these over. Mithrun twisted and drew hissing breaths all through this process, but he didn’t explicitly protest.

“Do you want me to stop?”

“No.”

“Then stop squirming.” Kabru let the last of Mithrun’s proper clothes drop to the floor. The first thing he noticed once that was done was a dramatic splotch of wetness soaking through his underpants. On the one hand, this felt like an inevitable escalation. On the other, cleaning another grown man up like a toddler was almost too much to tolerate.

Still, Kabru couldn’t get angry if he tried. It was no one’s fault. Mithrun was unwell and couldn’t care for himself besides, and Kabru was still learning how to care for him. It was fine.

Really.

If he didn’t keep reminding himself of that, he was going to lose it before the week was out.

There was clean water, there were things that counted as wash cloths if he didn’t think too hard about it, and it would be unconscionable to not help him.  He hooked his thumbs in the sides of Mithrun’s underpants and pulled down hard, shocked but not unpleasantly when Mithrun lifted his hips to help him. If that was all, it would have been fine.

Mithrun’s head rolled back, exposing the underside of his chin, and he breathed a sigh that carried his voice. The cloth unstuck itself from him and came away with a shivering strand of viscous fluid clinging to it. 

Kabru, even under pain of torture in the West, would only ever have admitted to looking for a fraction of a second. That may not help his case, considering that elves were primarily hairless past their necklines and this left absolutely nothing up for interpretation. 

This would have marked him as a bastard for certain. No noble house would try to solicit matches for such a son, so they hardly appeared except in cases of infidelity. It was their bodies that did the soliciting, and they did it in a way that was not within their control. And they did it with men. Such a son wouldn’t be a pruned branch on the family tree, but the quality of any grafts couldn’t be assured. He would be an inconvenience, and a shame besides.

Kabru had heard - reading on the topic was scarce, for predictable reasons - several accounts of what was done with these sons. A mother in dire need might sell him. A family lacking in conscience might abandon him with another family and call it charity. If he were lovely and fair like his mother, they might put him to other purposes besides the maintenance of the lineage.

Press him into service of the Queen, good service doing good work. And if he died, well, he died as an expression of the house’s loyalty. His contribution could be controlled in this way.

“I’m sorry!” The anger that had risen up from Kabru’s chest and into his head bled through into the words and made them sound strange. He had to try again, even if Mithrun wouldn’t care. “Captain, forgive me, I didn’t realize. Forgive me, too, because I don’t know how to help you.”

Mithrun drew several deep breaths. “No, it was my mistake not telling you.”

“Why didn’t you tell me? I told you, I need to know things like this.”

“Sometimes, when I can’t decide what would be best to do, I imagine the person that I was before I became like this.” Mithrun patted around on the bed for the edge of the sheet and used his limited energy to pull it over the lower half of his body. This was probably more for Kabru’s benefit than his own. “I ask myself what I can imagine him doing, and I couldn’t imagine him telling you.”

“Can you imagine why not?”

“I was conceited and ashamed of this body.” Mithrun rolled over onto one side, pulling the sheet with him. “I always suspected that the love I left behind chose my brother over me because I wasn’t the kind of man who could give her children.”

As if the story needed to be any more complicated.

“Well, I know now.” Kabru moved to the head of the bed and reached down to press the backside of his hand to Mithrun’s forehead. Still hot, but not dangerously so. “How are you feeling?”

“You may not want to touch me,” Mithrun said, the words coming through a throat pinched tight.

“Why is that?”

A long pause. Was Mithrun checking in with his past self?

“I don’t want anything,” Mithrun finally said, his arms crossing tight over his chest as he curled in on himself as if evading Kabru’s hand. “But my body wants you very badly right now, and there’s nothing I can do about it.”

“I-” Kabru’s mouth opened and closed like a fish flapping on a riverbank until covered it with his hand to spare himself the embarrassment of having been knocked speechless.

Talk about complicated.

[tequila-solar-storm]

Natlan trio is soo wholesome!!! I find the idea of Mualani and Kinich dumping their grainfruit on Kachina's plate extremely hilarious HAHAHA

Speaking of Kachina I personally hc kinich being surprisingly good with kiddos. Just smth smth about how doting he is in the web event. I wouldn't be surprised if he knew how to knit. Seeing that the girls don't seem morning people I can picture kinich helping braiding their hair if he's around in the morning. Also his in game lines scream mom friend. Which is honestly adorable.

I too hc kinich as being affectionate in a quiet way but if he's directing his affection towards someone, there won't be room for doubts. Elder Leik as his father figure is absolutely canon in my heart and kinich being affectionate with him is such a sweet addition! I can definitely see it, kinich crashing at his house maybe helping with the cooking so they can enjoy a meal together. I am surprised there aren't actually fics about these 2 yet.

Also Leik knowing his son habits and just looking away is SO hilarious xD I wonder if he ever tried talking to Kinich about it and ultimately giving up (he doesn't need to know any details thank you very much)

Thank you author for answering had a blast reading your hcs!

—🌻

Previous Post

Kachina realising that she’s the real adult among the three:

Jokes aside, thank YOU for sending these lovely asks!! Answering them has been incredibly fun!!

Response under the cut! Spoilers for Kinich’s character stories + mention of ‘Kinich’s Deal’ from the Yupanqui's Turnfire Tribal Chronicles!

You’re so right about Kinich being the Mama of his group!! His relationship with the two especially so! Why stop at just braiding their hair? He’ll be helping them brush it too!

Since Kinich is canonically good at housework and other domestic jobs (Out of unfortunate necessity 😭), I won’t be surprised if he can knit as well! I can picture him knitting stuff for his friends, like new gloves for Kachina or a little pouch for Mualani! The possibilities are endless!

I do think he’ll be great with kids! Provided they’re not too intimidated by his seemingly cold demeanour + badmouthing from the adults HAHAHAHA Evidence of this is Huni and Toba, despite not having spoken to him before, calling him ‘big brother’ in CN! Which is super cute! Though it might just be a cultural thing, since Natlan in particular is pretty liberal with all their ‘big brothers/sisters’ and ‘aunts/uncles’ in CN. EN didn’t translate most of it over and I’m not sure about JP and KR…

With what he said to the Traveller at the end of the ‘Kinich’s Deal’ quest, it’s safe to say his affection for someone can’t be more obvious when it’s there!! He’ll definitely cook for Elder Leik, but looking at Kinich’s specialty dish, let’s just hope Leik can handle his spices! I definitely want to write something about Leik and Kinich in the future, but I’m drowning under a whole bunch of WIPs. So I think it’s best if I don’t start anything new until I’m done clearing through them HAHAHA

I don’t think Leik would feel the need to have ‘the talk’ with Kinich since Kinich is beyond mature for his age. He’ll probably just do the ‘ur an adult now so u make ur own decisions but remember to stay safe and yadayada’ song and dance but otherwise won’t bring it up. He’s covering his ears and closing his eyes at all the crazy rumours getting flung around. He doesn’t need to know. It doesn’t exist if he doesn’t perceive it HAHAHAHA

[more-better-words]

What's this? MB Words writing fluff???

Admiral Jonathan Archer approached the apartment door, situated on the corner of an unassuming block just off the main tramline to Starfleet Headquarters. It was a good location, and it was a shame Trip and T'Pol wouldn’t be here much longer, because he would miss having them so close.

He would miss them in general. Another six weeks, and they’d be gone, off to Vulcan. And sixteen light years might go by faster in a warp seven starship, but it would never be the same as having them fifteen minutes away. Which wasn’t the same as having them on the same ship.

Time and tide, he thought.

He punted the melancholy away. He couldn’t begrudge them this. After all, no one had championed T'Pol taking the position of ambassador to Vulcan harder than him. And besides, they were still here now, when he needed them most.

His knock was answered by T'Pol. “Admiral,” she said.

“Ambassador,” he replied, smiling. She lifted an eyebrow.

“Only in potentia. After all, I cannot be an ambassador for a body that does not yet officially exist.”

“Well, that’s why we're here, isn’t it?”

She led him into the living room, which was scattered with soft, colorful toys, a bright mat spread under a mobile hung with model starships, and some sort of block toy with Vulcan symbols on its sides. Trip stood in the center of the room, holding the reason for the gentle disarray in his arms. “Look who it is, Miri Roo!” he said, turning so the baby could see the doorway. “It's your Uncle Jon!”

Archer smiled at T'Mir Tucker, who peered interestedly at him with blue eyes so much like her father's. “Hello, T'Mir,” he said. “Thank you for letting me borrow your mom and dad.” She babbled gravely at him; Trip chuckled, glancing past his daughter’s head at his old friend.

“Trip,” Archer said, “you're glowing.”

“That’s just the sleep deprivation.” Trip shrugged nonchalantly, using the motion to give T'Mir a little bounce. “Lil Miss Tucker here has decided that sleep is for quitters.”

“Her recent sleep schedule has been… erratic,” T'Pol confirmed.

“Then is this a bad time?” Archer asked, suddenly feeling like an imposition. T'Pol shook her head firmly.

“Not at all. Whatever help we can provide, we will.”

Trip handed her the baby, an easy shift from one set of arms to the other. “Come eat – after supper, you can tell us what you got so far.”

It was his speech. The charter officially creating the United Federation of Planets would be signed with high pomp and great ceremony in exactly twenty days and somehow, he would be the one delivering the main address at the event. And Jonathan Archer knew in his heart that he alone could not bring the right words into being to mark this extraordinary occasion. He needed help, and there was no one else he'd rather get that help from.

So they ate, and he watched them, and thought again about time and tide. How far they'd come: Trip, who'd grown into his considerable talents, tested, and seasoned, and refined; T'Pol, the irritating, resented interloper who had become an indispensable necessity, a right hand. Who would have thought that they would have, somehow, oriented towards each other? Certainly not him – until they had, and he'd realized he was glad for it.

After dinner, they returned to the living room, and he pulled out a PADD with his speech notes, which T'Pol read over with a critical eye. Trip sat with T'Mir in the chair opposite, rocking her, but she didn’t seem to care for the arrangement and began to fuss, her small face scrunched unhappily. He stood, pacing with her held to his shoulder, humming softly. The hum developed words, and he shifted her lower in his arms to look down and address his song to her directly.

“I’m walking the floor over you/I can’t sleep a wink, that is true/you're fussin' and I’m cussin'/but it’s okay/you're my Miri Roo…”

Archer couldn’t help himself – he snorted a laugh. Trip stopped short, looking piqued. “C'mon, T'Mir,” he said haughtily. “We're gonna go someplace where we won’t be judged.” He and the baby swept out of the room, the image of indignation, and Archer laughed again.

“Does he do that sort of thing often?” he asked. T'Pol, who had been reading the entire time, didn’t look up.

“He sings to her frequently, yes. It is quite endearing.”

This time, his laugh was a soft chuckle. “He's really taken to fatherhood,” he noted. T’Pol moved a shoulder.

“I knew that he would,” she said. “Long before her birth.” She glanced at him. “I knew from the moment we saw Elizabeth.”

Archer returned the look, nodding slightly. “And how about you? Motherhood treating you well so far?”

“It is. I find it a fascinating exercise, and anticipate it will only become more so as she ages. It is… akin to seeing the basic shapes that form a complex structure. There are times I feel as though I can see the outlines of the person she will become, and I wish to know that person. Very much.” Their gaze held for a moment, and Archer found himself touched that she trusted him with something so deeply felt. That was the gift of their friendship he treasured the most.

She handed him back the PADD. “You have several excellent ideas here that can easily be expanded on, but my primary advice would be to find a common thematic thread with which you can bind them together.”

He looked at his notes, and sighed. A theme. Easier said than done.

Trip reappeared in the doorway. “I’ve about got her down, but I think a snack’ll help.” T'Pol nodded, and stood.

“Of course.”

Their fingertips touched briefly as they passed each other; Trip assumed her spot on the couch, leaning his head back on the cushions. He shot Archer a lopsided grin. “You're not tryin' to get her to do your homework for you, are you?” Archer returned the look with a roll of his eyes.

“You know as well as I do what she'd have to say to that.”

Trip laughed softly, turning his gaze to the ceiling, and the two of them sat quietly for a moment before Archer asked, “So how long do you think you'll stay in reserve?” Trip spread his hands.

“Dunno yet. Kinda playin' it by ear.”

“You could have another ship tomorrow if you wanted.”

Trip lolled his head to give Archer a sidelong look that said, far louder than words, that that was the dumbest thing he'd ever heard.

“I know,” Archer said. “I know. But the brass would be very happy if you did.”

“You are the brass!”

“And now I’ve done my due diligence and mentioned it to you.”

Trip shook his head, another little laugh moving his shoulders, before his expression stilled with a sigh. “Even if we didn’t have T’Mir, I think I’d need to be on dirt for a while. T’Pol’s about to start somethin’ big, somethin’ important, and I don’t want her to have to do it alone. And...we do have T’Mir. And every second I get with that little girl is gold, Jon.”

“Even when she doesn’t let you get any sleep?” Archer teased gently.

“Even then! Which is crazy!”

“You are going to be such a pushover.”

Trip ran his hands over his face. “God, I am. She's gonna walk all over me.” They shared a laugh, then he crooked expectant fingers for the PADD. “So, do you only let the class president look at what you got, or are you gonna let me take a crack?”

Archer returned the next evening, and the one after that, and the one after that, until somehow a week had elapsed. Some nights, they made no progress on the speech at all, despite their best efforts, and on others, they didn’t bother, keeping themselves to less weighty conversation (and playing with the baby). But between the three of them they did manage to hammer out several sections of his speech in the broad strokes.

A theme, however, remained elusive.

T’Mir was in fine, grumpy form that night, refusing to be content with any adult for long, and making any attempt at speechwriting a no go. They all took a turn with her about the room, but it wasn’t until Archer’s second try at walking with her that she finally allowed herself to be soothed. “You are one stubborn young lady,” he informed her. She gnawed on her fist in reply, and he smiled. “You take after your parents.”

Who had, he noticed, both fallen asleep on the couch, T’Pol’s head on Trip’s shoulder, his resting on her hair.

“Now look what you’ve done,” he chided T’Mir, who was entirely unrepentant. “If you can exhaust those two, you may be the most dangerous person in the galaxy.”

She raised her wet fist to his chin. He laughed, and kissed it anyway, disregarding the baby drool.

“T’Mir Elaine Tucker,” he said softly, “do you have any idea how badly they wanted you? How happy they are to have you now? Maybe you don’t yet, but...you’re their daughter. You’re going to be one smart cookie – you’ll understand some day.”

He took another turn, bobbing her gently. “This is all for you, you know. The Federation’s not for us – not your mom or your dad or your Uncle Jon. Not really. It’s for you,” he said, tapping a fingertip on the tip of her nose. “You and any brothers or sisters who come after you. You and Shran and Jhamel’s baby girl. You and the whole generation of children being born into a whole new galaxy. A safer, more peaceful one. Or at least...one where making safety and peace comes easier.

“This is going to be yours, T’Mir, but we have to build it, and give you something strong.”

He stopped, and blinked at the baby, who gazed back at him serenely, suddenly looking so Vulcan one wouldn’t even imagine her father was human. But no, there were those blue eyes, and the Tucker nose, and something undeniably Trip in the set of her tiny mouth. The future, bundled up in his arms – his friends’ child, yes, but the Federation’s as well. “Thank you, T’Mir,” he said. “I think I know my theme.”

She babbled something at him that he could only assume was her gracious acknowledgment of his gratitude.

“It can wait for tomorrow, though,” he said, resuming their walk. “We’ll let them sleep.”

[noodles-doodles01]

HOTD EP 1 Rewrite

Ep 5 is giving heavy season 8 of GoT vibes so I'm saving myself the pain and just rewriting all the mistakes they made so far so I dont go insane in the coming weeks. I will reblog this post with each episode rewrite as they come, but heres ep 1:

*Disclaimer* I am making sure most of the plot points are still included in the rewrite whether I like them or not.

As much as I love the north opening, we save that for a bit later. Instead, we get a rainy shot of King's Landing. Its dark out and there i thunder and rain etc. We see a pair of boots walking through the halls, rushed and hasty and the music matches as well. The person's breath is also huffy and puffed, and we get shots of the water on their coat, and then a shot of Aemond's eyes as he rushes to a room.

The door barges open and Aemond comes into a room where Aegon is being lectured by Alicent and Otto. They become quiet and Alicent gets up to see what's wrong. Aemond admits what he did and Alicent slaps him, crying out "Mother help us all". We get a quick shot of Aegon witnessing the slap (yk, for character parallel reasons), and Otto begins yelling at him "my grandson is a fool" style. The camera focuses on Aegon a while and we see him almost sympathizing with his brother, so he puts on this fake act and laughs, saying that they should hold a feast, celebrating their first victory.

Back at Dragonstone, we watch as Rhaenyra rides Syrax out to find Luke in the sea, and follow Daemon and Rhaenys as they leave the dragonpit to discuss with the team. Daemon has his dialogue with Rhaenys about Laena and they make their way to the council. Team Black is all there minus Jace, and they discuss how to set up the best defence in the time they need to raise an army and attack again, since Aemond's move is OFFENSIVE. They mention how Dragonstone is unsafe, they mention how another threat is Daeron in Oldtown with his dragon, and they mention what good the North can realistically provide and how they can strategize with their travels south. Daemon then suggests using Harrenhall as a fort, since it is the crux of the Riverlands and would give them the best land defence. When contested that Harrenhall is in ruin, Daemon will explain that they have the advantage with dragon numbers and the sea with the blockade, they have some leverage that can be spent on the necessities that Harrenhall requires.

We are taken back to Rhaenyra where the sun is beginning to set, and the fishermen find a wing. Rhaenyra flies in on Syrax, finds Arrax's wing and we get the fantastic performance by Emma D'arcy that brought us all to tears. The sounds of Rhaenyra's sobs are manipulated by the audio to transition into the laughter and fun that the Greens are having at KL during the feast. Alicent is PISSED and leaves early, meanwhile Helaena and Aemond sit next to one another in discomfort. Maybe some dialogue here but idk what, but these two need more interactions.

Aegon ofc is the only one having fun, he's drunk off his mind and laughing with his idiot kingsguard friends. During this, Aegon drunkenly makes a toast and jokes about Aemond being a kinslayer, Aemond does not like the title and it comes off as Aegon's weird form of bullying (since we have to transition this kinda buildup and not bring it out of nowhere between the 2 years of s1 and s2) At Dragonstone again, Rhaenyra is coming back and Daemon is facing the fireplace holding a scroll. When he looks at her, he slams the scroll into the table and tells her that he will bring Aemond to his knees. Rhae is confused but its comforting bc she's in shambles. Daemon storms out and Rhaenyra reads the note, which gives word about the feast.

(Insert something here about Daemon and Mysaria setting up B&C)

(Insert Aemond brothel scene #1 here, and he reveals he regrets killing Luke etc etc)

When Daemon meets B&C, he tells them a son for a son, find Aemond Targaryen. if not, slay Aegon's heir. The men share a weird glance but they agree. We get the montage ofthe pair going into the castle as ratcatchers, with Aegon drunk and Helaena and Alicent putting the kids to bed. BnC burst into the room, blood binds Alicent whilst Cheese grabs the twins (who are still awake). Since the kids are so young, they cannot tell which is the son, so they force Helaena to pick. Helaena, dazed, begins to cry and says to kill her instead. Cheese tells her they only want the boy, so she lies and points at Jahaera. Cheese laughs and says the line, "Do you hear that little girl? Your mommy wants you dead", revealing that they know she's lying. At that, they shove Jahaera at Helaena and go to kill Jahaerys. Helaena starts screaming and freaking out. Bc of how gruesome the scene is I wouldn’t have the the acc death shown, but rather how her screams echo in the halls. Aegons reaction to the sound, the guards rushing towards her room.

Aegon bursts through the doors and sees Helaena on the ground crying and screaming saying “they killed my boy”

A final shot of Aegon having it dawn on him that the war is in full swing and absorbing the first “consequence”.

*end*

lmk if you have any questions about any decisions I made!

Edit; I removed Alicole entirely, bc as much as I’ve tried to rationalize it I hate it. FnB has Alicent calling Cole out for being a creep when Rhaenyra is young, so if the show has Alicent experiencing years of this kind of experience, why would she choose to be with someone like him once she gets fo leave the relation with Viserys? Plus, Alicent experiencing this moves her character forward in fully dealing with the fact that her push for the throne doesn’t go without major pushback.

[would-this-pokemon-be-a-friend]

Looking at several previous one, I can already imagine that this one is not going to turn out well, but since it is my favorite I'm going to ask anyway.

How about Skarmory?

Skarmories are fascinating pokémon, but they might not make the greatest house pet unless you are an expert in the species. As I’m sure you understand, this makes it pretty difficult for me to give them a blanket endorsement, hence the C ranking. It’s a complicated one, so let’s get right into it.

For one thing, skarmories are pretty large. At over five feet tall, their space needs are gonna be higher than a lot of owners can handle. This is doubly true considering their aerial lifestyle: skarmories are skilled flyers and would likely become restless if prevented from flying freely. I’d go out on a limb and guess that very, very view readers of this blog have access to an enclosed space large enough to suit a skarmory’s need to take to the air. These pokémon can fly at dumbfounding speeds, topping off somewhere around 190 miles per hour (Ruby). Nothing short of a sports stadium, if that, would suffice. Of course, a trained skarmory could be allowed to explore freely and return home on command, but that would require a level of training that’s gonna really decrease their ease of care. You would also need to keep in mind that flying freely outdoors may present a risk to your skarmory or wild pokémon, depending on where you live. In the Galar Region, for example, skarmories are known to “fight viciously over territory” with corviknights (Sword). On a brighter note, these pokémon aren’t too heavy considering their size thanks to their light, hollow bones, a necessity to their flying capabilities (Gold).

Now, for the friendliness factor: there’s decent indication that skarmories may get along well with humans. Both in the past and today, humans use shed skarmory feathers as blades due to their natural strength and exceptional sharpness (Crystal, Emerald, Sun, Ultra Sun). Around the world, this pokémon is a popular heraldic symbol due to their role as a passive source for human weapons (Shield). While the pokédex makes no note of skarmories offering their feathers willingly to humans at any point, it also doesn’t indicate that collecting these feathers is particularly dangerous for humans, indicating to me at the very least a passive, nonviolent relationship between the species. As an added benefit, if you own a skarmory, you’ll have access to valuable blades year-round, which could be sold to support yourself and your pet.

Skarmories, unfortunately, have additionally habitat needs that increase the difficulty of their care. Wild skarmories, like most bird-like pokémon, make their homes in nests. Skarmory nests are built using bramble bushes, whose sharp thorns help skarmory chicks develop their defensive armor (Silver). Such a nest would be difficult to upkeep, to say the least. Not only would you need to provide your skarmory with sufficiently prickly branches to satisfy their nesting needs, you would need to make sure they have a perfectly dry place to build it (i.e. not anywhere where they may get rained on), since their metal feathers are known to rust very easily (Moon). All this to say: a standard pet bed would not cut it for a skarmory. If you’re planning on adopting one, you’d better look into some good bramble bushes.

I’m sure anyone who reads this could see it a mile away but my goodness are skarmories dangerous! Their razor-sharp feathers are sharper than most artificial blades (Sword), and they make skilled use of them in combat. Moves like Steel Wing, Slash, and even Wing Attack and Fury Attack could easily prove lethal to a human. Considering their speed and agility, a skarmory attack is not something you want to risk. Now, the pokédex doesn’t make any mention of the species being particularly aggressive, but we must always recognize that the risk of an accident are always present. A skarmory is essentially a giant bird of prey made of knives. Like, c’mon.

Unfortunately, this pokémon is not one I can comfortably recommend as a house pet. Skilled flying-type keepers may be able to care for them, but the average pet owner would simply be putting themselves and other people and pokémon in their neighborhood at risk by adopting one.

[quailxcrossing]

who sleeps with the most blankets? who sleeps with the least? anyone who needs a whole stack of pillows in just the right spot to make them comfortable?

I LOVE THIS QUESTION SO MUCH i had to save this one bc its just. like. i love my characters sleeping so much i dont know why im just completely, genuinely enthralled with picturing them sleeping, it is how i get myself to sleep like every single night

it was so hard to pick just one guy for such category, so ill take the opportunity to talk about a few guys! okay i made a new rule i can only talk about 3 guys per category i'm yapping too much

SLEEPS WITH TONS OF BLANKIES KINDA GUYS-

- Caius! Caius gets cold extremely easily, even in summer nights, so they always have a nice big comforter and lots of throw blankets. PILLOWS TOO. He likes to have something on every side of him, be it a pillow or a boyfriend. Wrap them up

- Cian! She sleeps wrapped up in a weighted blanket every night, and then Turrie snuggles around that. She needs to be smushed. Turrie sorta falls into the sleeping with minimal blankets, as she often doesn't have a blanket, only a sheet. and she likes that! it feels good to keep her wings very outstretched in the night, and they can keep her warm in the winter.

- Louin! His bed is covered in big thick quilts which provides a great hiding place for him and/or his plushie collection if anyone walks in. He also likes to find blankets large enough to cover him during his shifts, but he won't tell anyone thats why he's buying them. Dude just wants to be snuggled and hidden when he's a big doggie

SLEEPS WITH MINIMAL BLANKIES -

- Ruse! Well, I suppose the better way to say it is that Ruse CAN sleep with minimal blankets. Even in freezing weather, she can get herself to sleep! She can sleep most anywhere really...she is first to volunteer for the floor when visiting others, and her friends gotta beg her to take the couch. She's a bit confused about it, she doesn't NEED anything, so why is everyone so concerned...she is very used to sleeping on the road when she was a knight, as well as any sleeping accommodations she received being stolen from her as she was very non-confrontational and an outsider of her troop who everyone just walked all over. It was very easy to take things from her; she didn't really feel like she owned anything, anyway. SO learning to sleep with nothing became a necessity. That's not to say she doesn't love blankets....she is quietly very grateful for what she has at Cradle's complex, although she would be prepared to forfeit it at a moment's notice.

- Goat! Goat sleeps warm and restless, his blankets always end up tossed across the room by morning. Sometimes, I mean that very literally- he wakes up from a light frustrating sleep and mindlessly tosses his blanket off to cool down or because its texture is bothering him (even if he loves the texture by the morning) and then zonks back out. What he NEEDS is pressure...and a fan

- Winnie! Winnie likes to sleep above the blankets, despite Cheriko's urging. Winnie feels trapped under blankets, which is also why she likes to sleep on top when Cheri is shifted. She's also really fluffy, so probably gets a bit too hot too. What she neeeeds is to sleep snuggly with her girl but also not feel too trapped by fabric

NEEDS THAT REALLY SPECIFIC SLEEPING CONDITION - (putting this in the category of who needs a whole stack of pillows)

- Maiceo! pillow guy <3 with all the growing pains of having their insides sloshed around and giant ram horns splitting out of their skull, they took to propping themselves up with lotttsss of pillows to get comfortable. typa guy who kept grouching around asking people if they had extra pillows because Hierophants aren't supposed to buy things they "want" (only need). Also a particularly semisoft one can be perfect for spooning, and they're just fucking miserable...

- Auï!! he's not so much of a blankets guy as he is a pillow guy. He loves his NEST!!!! he will get soooo comfy cozy with a pillow on every side of him. what will he do!! snuggle one on his side? lay flat on his back with one on his chest? lay on his stomach and cling the one beneath him? oh his possibilities these days are endless. Goat loves getting lost in his pile of pillows, if he's still enough you cannot see him at all

- Runo! okay he's a little special. He also is in the big-fluffy-blankets category, but his biggest sleeping tell is he needs pressure like Cian, but a LOT. He needs his wife using him as a bed, basically. He didn't always need this, but unfortunately, he can't sleep without her now...when Peony had a broken ankle and couldn't sleep on him, Runo didn't sleep. When the babies were born and it was her turn to check on someone in the night, he'd just lay there unable to get back to bed. he used to be normal....then he got married to me, it looks SO uncomfortable to have a person directly on top of you as you lay on your back, but to him, its instantly zzzzzzz's

[hauntedwizardmoment]

appearing out of the depths of my personal tumultuous chaos to say that I am becoming firmly convinced that the process of jace and porter having to move anywhere together would be either the funniest possible disaster or an EERILY smooth event. I'm picturing, like, a world where they're moving in together to use the Happy Couple shtick as a cover for the Plan? So option a) involves porter's spartan martial class lifestyle coming in direct conflict with jace stardiamond, man who would live and die by his personal necessities and creature comforts. porter rocks up with three bags' worth of things (clothes, toiletries, weapons and protein powder, respectively) and jace has to have two Bags of Holding to unpack all his stuff. they fight about it and inevitably fuck about it before even setting up the furniture <3

and then option b) where they're aligned on the matter is just like. jace just sits back with an eye mask on chilling while porter moves every piece of luggage and equpiment manually, even though jace could absolutely have used Telekinesis with minimal effort.

YEAHHHH GOD. truly. i think to minimize the hell that this is. porter moves from his r/MaleSurvivingSpace-ass apartment into jace's townhome. truly just rocking up to jace's doorstep with his three shirts, two pants, shoes, toothbrush, maul, and deodorant and never leaving. but honestly i could see them deciding to move into a place Together for convenience and because their individual places are quickly becoming overtaken by things for The Plan (porter's apartment is filled w ambrosia and devil's honey shipments, jace's townhome is covered in sigils and runes). and the excuse of being a Happy Couple at aguefort provides a great cover.

and i think this is one of those things that really shows that without The Plan they could honestly be a really good couple together. whats that statistic about moving being the third most stressful life event for adults, only behind death of a loved one and divorce? and jace is able to keep porter calm through the whole thing and manage all the moving parts and get them moved into their new home shockingly quickly, like within a week.

porter lets jace handle all of the decorating and curating because that's jace's thing. all he needs is a place to store all his weapons and his workout equipment. and then at the end of the week when theyre settling in. theyre looking around at this space that's truly theirs and are like. well we can't NOT fuck. now that we're finally in our home and we don't have to worry about thin walls.

[https-aster]

NuKani OC posting my beloved. I adore my son. He’s so GRRRRR. Anyways, here’s base info about him~ 🤭. More NSFW stuff and his appearance is below the “read more!”

: ̗̀➛ His name is Nikolai. Loosely inspired from that BSD character with that same name.

: ̗̀➛ I’d say, age-wise, he’s roughly 25? He/they pronouns too.

: ̗̀➛ He’s a gay, ambiamorous man. Definitely had a few past flings with women while trying to discover himself, and found out that he is in fact a boykisser. He’s also fine with having more than one partner in the mix, whether it’s his own , his partner’s, or both of theirs.

: ̗̀➛ Clan member <3 His gemstone is rhondonite, and can be found on his inner-left thigh. It’s a nine-centimetre, upside-down heart shape.

: ̗̀➛ If I were to assign a character that he is similar to personality-wise, I think Sampo or Aventurine from Honkai Star Rail would both be fitting candidates.

: ̗̀➛ He works as a bartender during the day, and tends to those in need during nightfall. Most of the food/medicinal supplies he gives them are definitely either stolen, or from his own pocket. Most often, they are swiped. Also tends to wear a hood/some sort of disguise when doing so.

: ̗̀➛ Nikolai has a major soft spot for people in need/are in crisis/etc. More likely than not, he’ll stop what he is doing to aid them if required .

: ̗̀➛Tying itself to the past point or two, Nikolai was born into poverty, and has lived around such similar tactics by others like him. Stealing to survive, and even relying on others. As he grew up, he was able to slowly provide for himself, and landed a well-off job as a bartender. He does not forget his roots at all, and as such, gives back to his family and people who need necessities.

: ̗̀➛ If I were to ship him with someone? Gods, that’s hard. I see him as pretty shippable. With other OCs? I mean, of course <3. But canon-character wise? I’m saying Olivine, or definitely Yakumo? Eiden too, clearly pfff. I just think that they’d be compatible in a sense!

: ̗̀➛ Nikolai’s “ero-zone” is/are his thighs.

: ̗̀➛ He and Eiden have definitely fucked in his bar more than once. Or, at the very least, have done foreplay there before.

: ̗̀➛ Prior to meeting Eiden, he hasn’t really had sex before. The poor guy was too busy both supporting those that needed help and himself to even consider that. That definitely changes later on down the line.

: ̗̀➛ I see Nikolai as a top-leaning-switch. He likes to keep things interesting. Definitely loves using toys too, for the same reason.

: ̗̀➛ He’s an exhibitionist for sure. And a voyeur. I also see him as someone who is really into bondage.

And finally, his appearance! <3