#and i try to force myself to buy like. a small nice thing for myself every once in a while i buy 1 coffee and 1 breakfast food every week

[loverslantern]

Mirror- Dean Winchester x f! reader oneshot

Description: Reader doesn’t feel pretty so Dean tries to show her what he sees in the way he knows best: praise.

Warnings: It’s hot and heavy in here, inherently sexual but nothing happens, manhandling?, praise

Word count: 2k

Note: This is not only my first time writing something like this but also my first time writing something not related to The Hunter and The Witch series so please leave feedback!

  I catch my reflection on the screen of my laptop and groan. My face looks weird today. It’s just one of those days where I just couldn’t feel…pretty or nice or any other adjective. It shouldn’t matter now when I’m alone in my motel room and researching for the next hunt. There’s no one to impress in the desolate room other than the four beige walls and a creaky bed. 

  It shouldn’t matter. To be fair it shouldn’t matter in general when beauty is an objective concept, and yet it does. I do not know the psychology behind it, maybe it’s a biological thing as animals would choose the mate that’s more appealing or strong to have offspring that can survive. I shake my head, ridding myself of the thought. This would just spiral into a psychological analysis that would only make me think of it further rather than ignore it. 

  It’s an obsessive thing, isn’t it?

  Either way, I don’t like the way I look today. I couldn’t get my hair to look just right this morning and I tried so many up-do’s that my arms got sore. It still didn’t look right, so I left it down. 

  And my face just looks wrong. Maybe my eyes are too big or too small in proportion to the rest of my face. Or, maybe my jawline is too soft, perhaps I’m not rough enough. Perhaps I’m too rough. Somehow, every possible thing feels true. 

  I groan again, leaning my head back against the headboard of the bed, and squeeze my eyes shut as if it will get rid of it all. I’m meant to be focused on research. It was supposed to help. But stupid screens and their stupid reflections.

  The jingle of keys forces my eyes open, my eyes landing on my door as it clicks open. “Hey, sweetheart,” Dean greets, casually inviting himself in. 

  “Hi,” I breathe. I suppose the consequence of giving someone a spare key is that they will use said key. But, I’m not that bad of a thing considering it’s Dean who’s walking in. “I’m gonna head to a bar, you in?”

  “Eh,” I answer. “You go ahead. ‘Not feeling it tonight.”

  He eyes me for a moment, squinting just slightly. “Not even as an excuse to dress up and listen to music?” he pushes. “‘My treat.” Of course, his treat meant a fake card or money he got from hustling. But, god the way he smiles and holds his hands up as he tries to convince me is cuter than it should be. “Sorry, Dean,” I say despite the sight, “Just not feeling it.”

  His shoulders and smile drop, “Come on I’ll buy you as much (favorite drink) as you want.”

  “You can go without me you know?” I point out as he saunters over to the bed and plops himself down. “We both know you’re gonna be leaving with some random girl anyway.” 

  He rolls his eyes as he leans back on his elbows, his black shirt flexing against his muscles. He knows I’m right. “I thought Sam was the nerd,” he comments, ignoring what I said by lifting my laptop off my lap and discarding it in the empty space next to him. “Why don’t you wanna go out? ‘You feeling okay?” he asks and for a moment as his eyes scan my face, I can see the concern pass through them. 

  “Oh, I’m fine,” I insist, trying to be as convincing as possible. Yet, he sees right through me, giving me a pointed look. He’s hard to lie to. I break, shaking my head, “Fine. I just…I don’t feel pretty today so I don’t really wanna go out.”

  His eyebrows raise, his lips parting a bit as if that’s the last thing he expected me to say. “You?”

  My eyebrows furrow, head tilting in confusion, “….Yeah….” Who else?

  He studies my face again and I worry he’ll see what I’m seeing. He’ll see I’m not pretty. His features soften regardless. “Come with me,” he announces, gesturing a hand to follow as he gets up from the bed. I don’t listen, giving him a confused and cautious look. “Come on,” he insists, his voice firm. 

  I hold back my sigh as I stand from the bed. I almost didn’t want to know what he had in store. But, he doesn’t leave me with much choice but to turn back as he takes hold of my hand. His hand is big and warm as it envelopes mine, butterflies erupting in my gut at the simple touch.

  He leads me into the bathroom, his hand leaving mine to travel up my arms and to my shoulders, positioning me in front of the mirror. My hips press against the sink, his hands on my upper arms and his body close behind mine. He nearly looms over me with his tall stature, his head and eyes tilted a little down as he uses the mirror to meet my eyes. “Don’t look at me. Look at yourself,” he directs. But my eyes linger on him, on his pretty green eyes, sharp sculptured jaw, and his straight nose. His fingers tap against the skin of my upper arm, “Come on,” he encourages, his voice a little gravely. 

  I give in. He makes it so easy to give in. I pull my eyes from him and land on myself. A frown pulls on my lips as my eyes jump around my features, even my frown looks wrong. He squeezes my arms, gaining my attention back in the same second my gut lurches. “Uh-uh,” he hums. “Eyes back on you, baby.”

  Jesus. 

  Again, I force my eyes away and I can feel his burning gaze on me. “What do you see?” he asks. I scuff and roll my eyes, “Dean, I’m not—“

  His hands rub up and down my upper arms. “Just—what do you see?”

  I bite on my bottom lip. I look unamused. That’s what I’m seeing. I sigh, trying to humor him. “Myself,” I answer plainly.

  He tuts, “Not what I meant, sweetheart. What do you see that you don’t like?”

  Everything. That seems like an appropriate answer. But I can’t just say that and I don’t. I hardly want to share what I feel when it’s hard to put words to it. “How about this?” he says, his head dipping down to occupy the space by my neck, putting himself closer to my level than far above me. “I like your smile,” he admits, his voice so soft it’s like a rough whisper. “I like when you smile at me…” he squeezes my arms, “like I’m damn important.”

  “You ar—“

  “Uh-uh,” he hums again. “This is about you, baby.” 

  One of his hands drifts upwards, the muscles in his forearm flexing. The sight is nearly intoxicating as I watch it move in the mirror, resting at the base of my neck as he stands to his height again. His thumb brushes back and forth against my collarbone, his eyes downturned to his movements. “Keep watching yourself,” he reminds me. I hadn’t realized I was watching him but could you blame me?

  He presses me back against him, his body solid and warm. I wonder if he can feel the increase in my heart rate. “And your skin…always so smooth. Hardly any scars.” He presses down on the base of my neck, encouraging my head to lean back against his chest. My breath hitches.

  “Shows how careful you are, yeah?” I can almost feel his warm breath as clearly as I can feel my heart beating against my ribs. “You a careful girl?” His gaze is burning as it travels down me. “Yeah…” he drawls, eyes traveling back up. “You are.” His thumb taps once against my collarbone, reminding me to keep my eyes on myself which seems like an impossible feat now. “There you go,” he praises, his voice low. 

My skin feels warm. My everything feels warm as if I am a furnace with the sole purpose of burning and he stokes the fire, poking at it, adding wood to keep it going. 

“Those eyes,” he mumbles, and I can feel the rumble in his chest as the words protrude from his lips. “‘Damn pretty eyes. Then you give me that look…fuck.”

  My eyes flick to his, something burning deep within my gut. He doesn’t scorn me for looking away from myself. “Yeah…” he whispers, eyes meeting mine in the mirror. “That look right there. Eyes all big, your lips parted just a little.” His hand drifts up from my neck, gracing my jaw. His thumb presses on my bottom lip. “So pretty…” he mumbles. “‘Don’t know what you aren’t seeing. Can you look at yourself again baby?” 

  I do as told and my knees feel wobbly with the heat that pools within. It’s the sight of him rather than me. The sight of him practically playing with me. “Want you to know how pretty you are,” he mumbles. “How good you are. God, you’re so good.”

  His thumb is a little wet as it slips from my lip onto my chin and my neck. His lidded eyes watch the slight mess he makes, his breath a little shallower. He hums, his chest rumbling with it. “Do you know what I think?” he asks.

  “What?” I answer the single word sounding like a sigh. My eyes drop to my lips in the mirror, my bottom lip coated in a thin layer of my own saliva like a coat of lip gloss. My breasts press against my tank top, seemingly wanting to spill over with each shallow breath. The soft swells of skin peeking from the neckline. His hands drop to my hips, pushing me forward until they’re pressing into the sink with a force that knocks me forward a little, a gasp escaping my lips. I grip the sides of the sink to catch myself. His fingers press into my hips as he holds me firmly. His body looms over me as his eyes take in my bent-over form. Those stunning green eyes that usually resemble the greenery of a forest when the sun is shining through the canopy of leaves just right, now a darkened green like the parts of the forest the sun can’t reach. 

  His hands massage my hips roughly, pushing them forward before drawing them back. His eyes are downturned to the movement, his mouth parted a little in the same manner mine is. My breath is quicker, and my heart is pounding in my chest like it’s trying to escape the space behind my ribs. “What’d I say about keeping your eyes on yourself?” He says roughly despite his own distraction. I swallow roughly, forcing my eyes back on myself for the umpteenth time.   

  He continues his actions, eyes burning into my hips and my ass like nothing else matters. “I think…” he starts, circling back to answer the question he asked me before, one I forgot about. “I think it should be sinful,” the word is like a purr coming from his lips, “to look this good. To be so fucking pretty.” It should be ironic coming from him but why would he go through all this trouble, all this guiding, pushing, pressing to convince me of something he didn’t believe in? And I can see it. I can see it, through the fog of a bad day, exactly what he’s seeing, or at least part of it. 

  “Are you seeing it?” he asks in a low voice as if he saw the change in my eyes. “Yeah,” I breathe, nodding, “Yes, I see it.”

  “Good,” he answers firmly, and yet I can hear the cocky smile that no doubt threatens his lips. Then, his hand circles around the back of my neck, tangling into my hair. He squeezes just once before he’s guiding me up, straightening me out ‘till I’m standing straight again. I spin in his hold, his large hands immediately going to my hips to keep me pressed into the sink. His eyes meet mine, something written in his irises that I can’t decipher. Then, they drop to my lips and then to my chest, that cocky smile finally making its appearance as his eyes drag back up to my lips. “Where’d you learn that?” I ask.

  His smile widens as he answers, “You don’t wanna know.”

[fanfics4all]

Forgiveness

Request: Yes / No Fluffcember Day 26!

Don’t be shy, request things! <3 Have a nice day/night

Draco Malfoy x Fem!Reader 

Word count: 737

Warnings: Just happy caring fluff!

Prompt(s): Forgiveness

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(Not my photo, credit to whoever made it!)

*Draco’s POV*

Diagon Alley felt different in the winter twilight… softer, quieter, as if the bustling energy had finally dulled, leaving behind a muted calm that clung to the cold air. The lanterns cast warm pools of light against the cobblestone streets, and as I walked alone, my hand buried deep in my coat pockets, I found myself drifting in thought. 

It had been years since the war ended, but memories of that time lingered like ghosts. Regret clung to me, a constant silent companion that kept me in the shadows even now, years after Hogwarts and the battle that changed everything. I was no longer Draco Malfoy, the self-assured Slytherin prince; I was just a man trying to rebuild a life from the fragments left in the wake of all I’ve done. I became so lost in my thoughts that I almost didn’t see her until she called my name. 

“Draco?” I froze, the sound of my name jolting me out of my thoughts. Turning, I found myself face-to-face with her. She was in my year at Hogwarts, but we never spoke much back then, only in passing. Yet, she was unforgettable. Her eyes held a kindness I didn’t deserve, her expression soft as she stood there, her hands tucked into her coat. 

“Hello.” I forced myself to meet her gaze. I wasn’t quite sure what she was doing talking to me, of all people. 

She took a small step closer and though I expected anger and judgment I’d long since grown used to, her face held none of that. Just a quiet understanding that made me more uncomfortable than anything. 

“Are you… doing well?” She gently asked. I almost scoffed at the question, but caught myself, nodding instead. 

“As well as I can be, and you?” I replied, the words sounding stiff even to me. 

“I’m alright, thank you. Just picking up a few things.” She answered, het face brightening a bit. She held up a small bag, and we fell into silence, neither of us quite sure how to continue. Yet, she didn’t move and her gaze remained steady on me, as if she was waiting for something. 

“Listen…” I began, shifting uncomfortably. 

“I know what you must think of me, what everyone thinks of me… and I wouldn’t blame you if you hate me. I know I deserve it.” The worlds were out before I could stop them, blunt and honest in a way I rarely allowed myself. She didn’t flinch or look away. Instead, her expression softened and she took a step forward. 

“I know you’ve been through a lot, we all have… and I can’t pretend to understand everything you went through, but…” She paused as if searching for the right words. 

“I just wanted you to know that I don’t hold it against you, any of it.” I looked down at the ground, the familiar guilt and shame brewing inside me. 

“You should hold it against me… everyone should…” I said, bitterness creeping into my tone despite myself. She shook her head, her voice soft yet firm. 

“I don’t believe that people can change. I believe you were just as trapped as everyone else.” Her words hung in the air, cutting through the tension like a knife, but in the best possible way. I forced myself to look up, meeting her eyes. 

“Why are you saying this? Why forgive me?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. She took a deep breath, her gaze unwavering. 

“Because holding onto the past won’t change anything, Draco. You did things you regret, I can see that. Yet here you are, trying to move forward like everyone else.” 

It was almost too much to take in. All this time, I’d been ready to face the sneers and the disgust, but forgiveness? I never thought it possible, not from anyone outside my family, let alone from her. 

“Thank you…” I managed to say, feeling a weight lift ever so slightly. Her forgiveness loosened the chains of guilt I’d been carrying all these years. She offered a small smile, and it was enough to make the cold, empty street feel just a bit warmer. 

“You don’t have to thank me, just remember that you’re not alone, okay?” I nodded, unable to find any words. 

“Perhaps we could get a drink, maybe catch up?” She asked and I gave her a small smile. 

“I’d like that…”

Tag list: @les-bio-lie @tashy-bear @ashwarren32 @hollie-blogs-blog1 @lover-of-books-and-tea @nerdygaloresposts @teenwolfbitches28 @kmc1989 @drw0301bieber @lady-of-lies @ravenmoore14 @ravenempress101 @cillianchamp @rowanthomasknapp @rachelxwayne @ready-4-fanfiction @madammarvellous-blog1 @in-slytherin-we-trust @accio-rogers @sambucky8 @bruisedfists-and-splitlips @answer-the-sirens @andreasworlsboring101 @vanessa-kom-skaikru @impulse-anchor @psamathegoesrawr @nighttimemoonlover @liz-owl @dracoswhvre​

[nomaishuttle]

its also like . ok sry im going on bc im tired and ive upset myself lol but its like. to have somebody who knows i grew up in poverty call me greedy and selfish bc he pressured me into moving up here when i didnt have the money so i Had to rely on him financially. and then i couldnt pay him back while i was literally unemployed. to have him call me greedy and selfish and entitled and lazy was. insanely upsetting

[sillysillygoofygoose]

Older! Boyfriend Toji Headcanons

MDNI! (Slightly) EXPLICIT CONTENT AHEAD!

Soft headcanons:

Older! Toji, who adores the huge size difference between the two of you. He loves how you tilt your head back to look at him or stand on your tippy toes, pushing on his shoulders, just to kiss his cheek.

Older! Toji, who has a ton of money (shout out to broke ass Toji, though 😔). You have no idea what he does for a living. You're pretty sure it isn't something totally legal, like accounting, but whatever. He doesn't mention it and you don't ask. His favorite thing to do is turn you spoiled rotten. He constantly takes you on shopping trips, although his attitude is astronomical, only letting himself smirk when you thank him for buying you a cute little sundress.

"That one's real cute, baby."

"Yeah, bub, that color is really nice."

"Just buy 'em both, I'll take you somewhere nice to show them off."

He can barley constrain himself from pinning you against the dressing room wall and pushing the faint yellow fabric of the dress away from your skin, tasting you through your little lace panties.

Older! Toji whose love language is quality time and physical touch. No matter what he's doing, he needs to have you next to him. He never thought he'd fall so hard for someone, yet here we are...

"Toji, baby please, I'm trying to cook dinner." Toji only tightens his grip around your waist.

"I know, pretty. Just want to feel you." He responded, hooking his chin over your shoulder, peering at the vegetable you were currently mutilating.

"That's definitely not how you cut garlic." You feel him turn his head, smirking into your neck.

"Shut up."

Older! Toji, who would never, EVER let you drive him anywhere. You're forever stuck as a passenger princess. Hell would have to freeze over before Toji would let you be responsible for transporting him somewhere. This includes the time he accidentally shot himself in the upper thigh (long story 🙄) and REFUSED to let you drive to the hospital. You belong in the passenger seat, and his big hand belongs rested on your thigh, gently squeezing the squishy flesh from time to time.

Older! Toji, who pays for your bi-weekly manicures.

"What about these?" You tilt your phone screen towards him, showing him the set of acrylics you saved to your pinterest board earlier that week.

"Hmm, very nice." He flashed you a small smile of approval before grabbing your hand, kissing each knuckle.

They'd look so small and delicate wrapped around his dick.

Older! Toji whose most embarrassing secret is his love-hate relationship with the Kardashians. At first it was baffling... he doesn't even look like he'd know who they are. However, this man is INVESTED. You heard it here first. He lives for the pettiness of it all.

"What the fuck is Khloé's problem now?"

Toji strolls into the living room where you're perched on the couch, eyes glued to the new episode of 'The Kardashians'. He huffs, plopping down next to you.

"She always acts like she's some mediator for Kim and Kourtney, but she's an instigator. Always whining and complaining about something." He scoffs, rolling his eyes. You laugh, humming in agreement.

His favorite thing to rag on them about is their baby names.

"North West? That's a fucking direction."

Older! Toji, who holds you at night. Feeling your chest rise and fall rhythmically with his is the most comforting feeling in the world. He never falls asleep before you, finding peace only when you've found yours. He only becomes sappy after midnight, the loneliness of a quiet bedroom forcing him to face his emotions. Once he's positive you're passed out for the night, he moves his hand from your upper back to your head, gently stroking back stray strands of hair that were previously covering your precious face.

"You looked so beautiful today. I need to tell you that more." He whispered.

"I'm so lucky to have such a sweet girl all to myself."

"I love you so much. More than anything."

Older! Toji, who sees you as his entire world. Scratch that, his entire universe.

Hope you enjoyed! xoxo

[derekhighwaytf]

InstaCub

I loved the Cha Cha Room.  It was as exclusive as it was expensive, but hey that’s the price you pay when you’re a social media sensation.  Being Trey, the sexy instagram model wasn’t without its downsides, however.  The worst thing was when guys who should’ve known that someone of my caliber wouldn’t be interested in them tried to hit on me.  Sure, I fucked my fans regularly, but only the ones that shared my dedication to beauty.  I couldn’t help that I was born gorgeous.

My entourage, an aesthetically curated group of other models (all only slightly less attractive than myself) walked into the Cha Cha Room, ready to be gawked at, each of us oozing beauty and charisma. The crowd parted like the Red Sea, their eyes filled with awe, desire, and, my favorite, envy.

But amongst that sea, there was one guy that forced me to do a double take.  Doug, rounder and balder than anyone else, didn't fit the usual demographic that came to Cha Cha. It was a mystery how he must’ve slipped his way in when security wasn’t looking, because there was no chance they’d ever willingly allow someone who looked like that to enter such exclusive premises.  And, to make matters worse, when he caught me staring at his odd appearance, he began to make his way toward me, a small, devious smile playing on his lips.

"Can I buy you a drink?," he asked.  I raised an eyebrow, my lips curling into a smirk.  Sure, he was far beneath my standards, but I loved teasing my inferiors, especially when it comes with a free drink.  "Well, aren't you a sweetheart," I replied, trying to hide my disdain for his smelly, musky demeanor.

As we talked and I pretended to listen, he must’ve farted at least three times, but I wanted to be nice, so I held my breath and counted the seconds till I could rejoin my way cooler group of friends.  However, when Doug began flirting, I couldn’t help it.  A chuckle bubbled up from my chest and I shook my head, saying "Doug, was it?  No amount of drinks in this club could make me think you're anything but fat, smelly, and bald."

“And what’s wrong with that?” he said earnestly.  “This is a bar for fat, smelly, bald guys after all.”

“What are you talking about?” I asked.  Just as the words escaped my lips, I noticed something strange. As my eyes scanned the crowd, I realized that everyone, even my formerly flawless friends, looked just like Doug. They’d grown beards, their hair on their head was gone, and they all had guts the size of bowling balls.  I felt a chill run down my spine as I started to walk away.

“I must be in the wrong place.  I don’t belong here,” I said, just barely missing the door.  But before I could free myself from this hellhole, Doug stopped me and said, “Yes you do.  I think you fit in perfectly.”

Suddenly, my Gucci shirt felt tight around my midsection, and my once firm arms now felt doughy. As I turned to leave, a full-length mirror on the wall revealed a shocking transformation.   I reached up and where once were lush and thick chestnut locks, was now greeted the cold, bare skin of a rapidly receding hairline, retreating with alarming speed, creating an expanding dome of skin I’d never seen before.

Clumps of my hair began to detach themselves from my scalp, falling gently to the club floor. Each strand felt like a piece of my identity, a piece of Trey, falling away to reveal the bald truth underneath. I watched in frozen terror, feeling each follicle detach until all that remained was nothing but a smooth, shiny surface. I was as bald as an egg.

And then I farted.

Pffffffft.

I was disgusted with myself for only a moment, until I started to let a hearty chuckle much deeper than my old voice.

I looked in the mirror again, my face so much more different than it was ten minutes ago—familiar, but not the one I had painstakingly maintained for the world to admire. Suddenly, the world seemed to shift as a flood of memories washed over me. I wasn't Trey, the Instagram sensation. I was Tom, a twenty-something, bald, overweight man who didn’t shower, farted every five minutes, and fucked anyone who’d have me.  This was my bar and I was gonna make sure all my fellow cubs had a good time

As the rock music blared and the crowd at Tommy’s Den started to become increasingly alluring to me, I was suddenly hit with a wave of unfulfilled desire, a need for cock.  So I pulled Doug aside to the bathroom and…well you can guess what happened next.

I was Tom now, and, honestly, my life was so much better…

Pffffffffft.

[lemonhemlock]

what are they doiiiing, man

The more I believed I wasn't a book puritist, the more this show is trying to make me one because what are they doing?

Everything is inconsistent from episode to episodo and from season to season, like they're not even trying to make it believable

The only good thing is fr Daemon plot and this does shock me because I wouldn't have believed it before lol

And they're kind of making me feel angry about the green (alicent the most, because what are you doiiing? Not even on a book!alicent point, but from the same shows, she is always something different and it's humiliating really)

Idk, i try to take all with a light heart but... it's still able to make me quite mad

And sorry for all the typos and errors, I'm in a rush dhsjal

i mean it's a really disappointing season

i've said it before in my critiques, we can argue all day about characterisation (maybe some actually see aemond as an emotionless psycho, maybe some actually buy that alicent would sell out her own sons for rhaenyra), but there is little to no buildup for these HUGE changes and they don't even make sense in the context of the story. the greens are so, so emotionally flat and one-note melancholy with stunted dynamics. if they don't give a shit about each other, why and even HOW could the audience? where is the tragedy? ok, you want to make those changes from the books and create completely different versions of these characters: you have to make me believe it, man. you have to put in the work.

but these writers don't even understand the politics of the world they are inhabiting. they're not fixing any plot holes from the books, they're creating more. how the heck is house hightower JUST fine with having TWO members of their family dismissed in quick succession from the small council? who is financing this war? uncle hobert should be writing angry letters to aemond demanding appropriate reparations or else the hightower armies go back to oldtown. if they are not going to advance their own interests further as a house, why are they fighting this pointless war? tyland lannister should have given aemond some lip back for his attitude since house lannister has resources (i.e. armies, ships and gold) that aemond needs. these people have power! we've already seen the riverlords take no shit from daemon and he has a dragon too!

i've said this already to our dear @stannisfactions, so i'm gonna repeat myself here, but if alicent somehow became convinced that aemond was so off the rails he was going to get helaena killed................ there are ways around that that DON'T involve selling out your entire family to rhaenyra (certainly your male relatives, even the ones who didn't do a damn thing to you, like your brother, your uncle, your cousins, YOUR OTHER SON (THE NICE ONE), who are only following YOUR lead at the end of the day, because YOU put aegon on the throne and told them to mobilize forces and declare for him and now rhaenyra will see them all as traitors.

has everyone forgotten how to stage a castle coup? i know vhagar is big and scary, but she's parked way outside KL and aemond is just one man who was NOT shown to hustle for his own connections and personal network of friends. smack him in the damn head and throw his ass in jail!! tell everyone else the now-conscious KING aegon told you to! alicent was ruling queen for many years, it makes no sense for her not to have her own resources and courtiers who could help her do this.

can you imagine joffrey baratheon, surrounded by lannister guards loyal to and paid by tywin lannister, whose war is financed by the lannisters, dismissing tywin or cersei (or even tyrion) from his small council? are you laughing yet? why doesn't alicent have her own private army of hightower guards loyal to HER? unless you want (and need) her to be the stupidest person alive so that you can write your rhaenicent fanfic 🤌

they want to humiliate alicent so much to „punish” her for ~choosing the patriarchy~ instead of her bff rhaenyra and girl power. it's such an overdone storyline. other shows, books, media have done it to death, why is it in my dragon show, too? she can't have been a competent regent for viserys and not know how to do these things or not have acquired the resources to do them if necessary. how can she be both competent and incompetent when the plot requires it? it's giving wanting to still have the cake after eating it and throwing it into outer space

[astrangetorpedo]

On New Year’s Eve, during a house party at her home in Richmond, Virginia, Lucy Dacus had her fortune told. She thought why not. On a personal level, 2017 had been a wretched year – a steady conveyor belt delivering the 22-year-old bad news.

“This girl, who I didn’t even know, came to the party and gave me this year-long reading,” she explains. “Month-by-month it was so specific. So far, it’s kind of lined up.”

In the past Dacus has been sceptical about the prophetic powers of the tarot card deck, and was taught that the pentacles (coins) were a symbol of Satan. “It’s hard to look to the future and see nothing, to know nothing,” she muses. “I still don’t know what’s going to happen, but having something to have your mind bounce off is nice. That’s why I like tarot. It gives you something to reflect on.”

It’s all part of a fresh way of thinking for Dacus, a new “mood of just trying to be open to new things.” For so many reasons the past year has been one Lucy Dacus is keen to put behind her. “I guess I could just list things,” she says laughing, but not joking. To begin, some of her close family suffered health problems, compounded by her own serious issues including a bout of appendicitis that forced her to have surgery. She was attempting to buy a house for the first time, a process that proved “trying”. Three of her tours got cancelled.

“It was a little bit miserable,” says Dacus, sitting in an east London cafe. “Towards the end of the year, I just had to laugh… Like, come on!”

Interwoven with these practical challenges she was having to navigate something much more troubling. “I got out of a relationship in 2016, which I was waking up from in 2017 – realising that it was abusive,” she begins. “Letting myself say that, it took many months to come out of the numbness… to stop being brainwashed. So, that’s all been a growth. It’s ended up being positive, but it is difficult wondering how I let that be a part of my life for so long.”

Deepening the ordeal, still, this year of personal upheaval was set to the backdrop of Trump’s first 12 months in office. A vociferous supporter of Bernie Sanders through the 2016 election campaign, Dacus is a passionate advocate for equal rights, attending marches and collecting donations for community organisations at her shows. To have Trump sat in the White House representing her country, she says, felt – feels – “horrible”. “It’s just absurd and I feel like I’m in an alternate universe,” she says. “It’s really hard maintaining hope.

“Coming to Europe I’m embarrassed to be an American sometimes, but then I just have to hope that people know that I am not part of Trump. I’ve thought about wearing shirts at the airport – just like ‘not my president’. In little ways I just want to assert that opinion.”

And then there were the disturbing revelations surrounding Harvey Weinstein (and subsequently many other men) revealed in Autumn 2017, that opened out into a global conversation around the abuse and harassment of women.

“It’s been nice coming out of that really terrible relationship during a time when women are speaking up more. It feels like I’m allowed to say these things now,” says Dacus, crediting the #MeToo movement. “All these horrible, heartbreaking stories of women being mistreated are at the forefront but the solace that people are doing what they need in order to find closure and help each other prevent that happening ever again. For one of the first times I’ve been noticing male friends of mine actually examining their past behaviours.”

While there are some early shoots of positivity, the truth is, the culmination of all of these factors left the songwriter dealing with anxiety for the first time. “2017 was a new state of mind for me – and not really in the best way.”

Lucy Dacus was raised in Richmond, Virginia, about two hours south of Washington D.C. on the east coast. It’s a place sometimes described as “the biggest small town left in America.” The family home was in the rural suburbs and she travelled into the city to go to high school. “It’s hard to tell you in one answer how my whole childhood was,” she says. “It’s a large variety of things. Overall, I’m coming out with my thumbs up.”

In her household music was always there. Her mother is a piano teacher, as was her grandmother. Picking up songwriting was never a big deal, like a second language that was spoken around the house. “That’s how music is – like, it’s just part of my life,” she recalls.

Yet the dream of being a professional artist seemed almost so unattainable that it was invisible. In her late teens, Dacus went to college to study film but dropped out, primarily because she’d end up saddled with huge debt. “That, paired with the feeling of being misunderstood in my programme,” she confirms. “I just didn’t have a lot of like minds in my classes.”

That prompted a move back to Virginia where she took a job in a photography lab developing kids’ cheesy school photos. She’d been writing songs in her spare time and gathered nine of the 30-or-so she had together when her friend Jacob Blizard (now her touring guitarist) asked her to record them for his school project. Her 2016 debut album, ‘No Burden’, was made in one day in Nashville. Blizard passed school, and that album received rave reviews. NPR called it “vulnerable”, while Pitchfork said it was an “uncommonly warm indie rock record”. As a result, 20 different record labels reportedly scrabbled to sign Dacus. She settled on Matador, and began to prepare for what should have been a joyful 2017.

The first time Dacus remembers assuming the role of historian she was seven or eight-years-old. She was writing in her journal – and she smiles now recalling her first entry. It complained about how the babysitter spent the whole evening on the phone to her boyfriend. “There’s a point where I realise I’m journaling and so I stop and go, ‘I should probably introduce myself… I’m Lucy’” she laughs, remembering it clearly. “It’s really cute.”

More than a dozen notebooks, and many years later, she still keeps a diary now. Sometimes she writes every day, other times, weeks go by and then she fills 20 pages. Occasionally she flicks open an old one to either “laugh or cringe” at her younger self.

‘Historian’, then, isn’t just the title of her latest album, but also the way she thinks of herself. A chronicler, of her own experiences, but also those around her. Those pages aren’t just a document of a growing maturity, but also a therapeutic habit that helps make sense of many life events, including that recent damaging relationship. “Seeing that it had been broken for the whole time but that I was just oblivious to it, [reading about] it helps to accept that things didn’t change,” she says. “I just saw it for what it was finally, and so perspective is good.”

Those handwritten journals are sacred, which is why, when her tenth one was stolen on tour a few years ago along with a bag of possessions, it was the notebook she replaced first.

The album itself is a recent history – a narrative burrowing through those myriad dark times. Dacus knew that she wanted it to form a complete story, and wrote the track list before some of the songs. “It’s an arc” she says, that begins in a “relatable place” with the only break-up song she’s ever written (‘Night Shift’) that subsequently delves “deeper into darkness.”

“Then the subject matter gets a little more intense,” she tells me, “– going through identity crises, or loss of home, or loss of faith, loss of a loved one, loss of your life. I feel like I’m pulling people into an uncomfortable space.” She pauses. “There’s then a change where hopefully I’m turning on a light and saying, ‘Yes, all of that exists, but it’s a foil to joy.’”

It is an extraordinary piece of work. Musically it’s a colossal step up, reminiscent of recent albums by Mitski (‘Puberty 2’), Angel Olsen (‘My Woman’) and labelmate Julien Baker (‘Turn out the Lights’). The subject matter is heavy, but it’s never a dreary listen. In fact, it’s charming, funny even – like a brave smile emerging through a curtain of tears. And Dacus has a gift for lyric writing; like the eloquent way she pays tribute to the humility shown by her dying grandmother on ‘Pillar of Truth’. From first to final note it’s evocative and powerful. “The first time I tasted somebody else’s spit I had a coughing fit,” goes the LP’s opening line in ‘Night Shift’. “If past you were to meet future me,” she sings on the final line of the closing title track, “would you be holding me now?”

It’s heartening to hear that the contents of Dacus’ NYE tarot reading were largely positive. The forecast noted that she should enjoy the proceeds of her hard work, but that “something horrible happens in the summer, then there’s kind of a rebirth, growing back into, like, life in an even more knowledgeable and peace-oriented way.” Dacus is about to leave, and picks up a bag of books she’s been keeping underneath the cafe table.

“It could be wrong,” she says. “I’m not superstitious. I’m taking it in. When that does happen I hope I can take my own advice – let it be what it is, and look past it eventually

(x) 3/14/18

[the-fiction-witch]

Hotel Room

Media - The Queens Gambit Character - Benny Watts Couple - Benny X Reader Reader - Y/n y/l/n Rating - 17 + Word Count - 1350

Benny finished up with the Vegas tournament for that year, the press dealt with his winnings collected from the organizers so he headed to the hotel bar for a beer to celebrate. After a while of him sitting at the bar nursing his blue ribbon beer, a girl sits down beside him. At first, he didn’t think much of it but he absentmindedly glanced over when he heard her voice, and his jaw hit the floor.

She was wearing a pair of black platform heels, black sheer thigh high stockings, white petticoats under a black shimmery knee high dress with a off the shoulder top, she had a silver locket around her neck, a silver watch on her wrist, and a impressive ring on her little finger, She had bouncy hair curled up like Marilyn Monroe, with the make up to match it the look. She set her small white handbag on the bar and ordered a drink, "Vodka cranberry, save on the ice" she ordered from the barman

Benny's gaze lingered on the girl, his eyes scanning every inch of her figure before finally focusing on her face. A slow smile spread across his lips, “Looks like someone's celebrating too,” he said, his voice low and smooth, drawing out the last word into a husky purr.

she scoffed a little at his attempts to strike a conversation with her "I suppose I am." She answered not making eye contact as she waits for her drink

Benny chuckled and took another sip of his beer. His eyes roamed over her profile, drinking in the delicate curve of her and the way her eyelashes fluttered against her skin as she gazed away. He leaned in, his voice dropping to a whisper, “You know, I'm not just any ordinary guy who tries to strike up conversations with beautiful women. I'm Benny Watts, the greatest chess player this side of the Mississippi.”

she got her drink and paid before sitting her bag on the back of the chair "My, my, Benny Watts. Aren't I a Lucky girl?" She joked, "I take it you’re here for that big chess thing going on in the conference rooms?"

Benny's smile grew wider. He nodded, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he replied, “The Vegas Open, yeah. I'm defending my title. But I have to say, I'd much rather be talking about something else with you.” His gaze drifted down to her throat, where the silver locket glinted in the dim light of the bar. “What brings a lovely woman like you to a place like this?”

"The Vegas Poker championship," she answered "Y/n Y/L/N, Top two poker players this side of the Atlantic," she introduced herself

Benny's eyebrows shot up in surprise, his interest piqued by the revelation. He couldn't help checking her out and trying to hide the small blush that forced it's way to his cheeks, he knew Y/n, having seen her in sports illustrated a few times and… They have have been… A few of her pages under his bed- but he did his best to keep his cool. He set his beer down, his hands steepled together as he leaned in, a hint of competitiveness creeping into his voice. “Y/n Y/L/N, huh? I've heard of you. You're quite the legend among poker enthusiasts, I uhh dabble a little myself,”

"Thank you, nice to know I have a reputation. I've heard of you too, October's sports illustrated they did you wasn't it? Very brooding." she slightly teased

Benny's face flushed a deeper shade of red as he tried to play it cool, but his eyes betrayed his embarrassment. He glanced away, clearing his throat before responding, “Ah, yeah… that shoot. I guess they liked the whole 'tortured artist' vibe I was going for.” He chuckled awkwardly, running a hand through his blond hair. But then, his expression turned serious, and he leaned in closer, his voice taking on a flirtatious tone, “So, Y/n, what do you say we make a bet? Loser buys dinner?”

"And what would we be winning or loosing at Mr watts?"

Benny's grin spread wide across his face as he leaned in, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

“A game of chess, sweetheart,” he whispered, “Winner takes all… including bragging rights, of course.”

she scoffed "Now why would I willingly try and play benny watts at a game of chess? You think I'm stupid?"

Benny's grin faltered for a moment, but then he recovered, his confidence returning in full force. He leaned back in his chair, a sly smile spreading across his face once more “Oh, I don't think you're stupid, Y/n,” he said, his voice dripping with amusement. “I think you're intrigued. And besides…”

He reached out, his fingers brushing against hers as he picked up her hand, His thumb danced across her palm, “You see, when I win, you have to admit defeat… and kiss me.” Benny's eyes locked onto hers, challenging her to accept the terms of their little game. His gaze burned with intensity, leaving no doubt about the outcome he had in mind. he gave her hand a little kiss,

"Why would I? A professional poker player take the chance at playing the US beat chess player at a game of chess? Be like you willing playing poker with me." She explained removing her hand from his grip and finishing her drink "And if you want a girl to kiss you so badly Mr watts, you could just… Order her a drink?" She suggested,

Benny's face fell, his lips curling into a mock-offended pout as he raised an eyebrow, feigning hurt. “Oh, so now you're playing hard to get?” He laughed, the sound low and husky, as he leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers together in front of him. “Well, I suppose I can play along,” he drawled, his eyes glinting with amusement as he signaled the bartender for another round. he said, his words dripping with seduction. “How about we cut the crap, finish this round and then you meet me in my hotel room tonight… alone.” Benny's smile was a slow, lazy curve of his lips, inviting her to join him in a game of cat and mouse.

she raised an eyebrow and sipped her drink "bold aren't you?"

Benny chuckled, the sound low and confident, as he leaned back in his chair, a smirk still plastered on his face. “I'm not bold, darling… I'm just direct.” He shrugged, his shoulders rolling beneath his leather jacket, as he reached for his beer. “I make no apologies for wanting what I want,” he said, his voice smooth as silk, as he raised the glass to his lips and took a sip.

"And tell me exactly what will happen if I came up to your hotel room?"

Benny's eyes flashed with a hint of mischief as he set his glass down, his gaze never leaving hers. “Well, I think that's fairly obvious,” he said, his voice dripping with innuendo. “If you came up to my hotel room…” he paused, letting the silence hang between them like a challenge. “…you'd find out just how well I play chess…off the board.” he winked, Benny's smile was a sly, predatory curve of his lips, as he leaned forward, his eyes burning with anticipation.

"Time?"

Benny's gaze snapped towards the clock on the wall behind her, his eyes lingering on the time before returning to hers, “Midnight,” he said, his voice low and husky, as he nodded once, sealing the deal.

she nodded finishing her drink, as pulled a compact mirror and lipstick tube from her bag touching up he make up before returning them to her bag, "I'll see you then benny" she cooed putting her handbag on her shoulder and giving Benny's cheek a kiss leaving a bright red fresh lipstick kiss on his skin before she left the hotel bar,

Benny watched her go, a slow smile spreading across his face as he lifted his fingers to touch the kiss on his cheek. “Mmm… Y/n,” he whispered to himself, a low hum of anticipation vibrating through his chest. He glanced around the dimly lit bar, making sure they were alone before standing up and heading towards the elevators.

[pinkcherryblossomphonecase]

To feel pretty

(Some Cooper fluff to give him a break. This one is for youuuuu, Ashton mod)

(The peeps I tag: @oscarsgallery @kijimha @city-of-c0rpses @lets-play-a-game @fyyodor-d @myluckymoon )

After such a sleepless night, I forced myself out of the hotel room as quickly to get the day over with. Wasn't in the mood to do anything, nothing is really fun when you're alone, except for cherry blossom gazing. Other than that there wasn't much to do. I guess the only option was to tour around the city and find something to do.

Yokohama seemed busy today with people bustling by or heading off to work. I took my time gazing at very shop I passed by. Maybe a few luxury and treat yourself items wouldn't hurt to buy or gaze at. The beauty makeup store caught my eye, their advertisement for lipsticks had me interested. So many pretty different shades. It wouldn't hurt to try some.

I go inside and the workers were so nice, they greeted me in and asked if I was looking for anything in particular. They helped find me a pretty red shade of lipstick that wasn't too bright but perfect enough for me to wear. They were so helpful, they even showed me how to apply it on right.

I headed out with my new purchase, wondering what types of outfits would go with this shade. While strolling around, lost in thought, I come to a hault as I see a gorgeous dress on the display can of a small business. I had to go inside and ask the owner of the dress was up for sale. Thankfully it was, but I was disappointed at first when it didn't fit me.

Until a kind worker offered a similar dress that was just as pretty, if not more, than the other dress. It had my size as well! They were so kind once I rang up my purchase. They even gave me a free hat because I spent more than 50 bucks there or something. The hat went well with my outfit too.

After purchase I immediately changed into my new outfit, along with the hat and applying the lipstick. I spun around the mirror and gazed at myself in awe. I looked so pretty. I felt so pretty. I was feeling high and confident in myself. After all I rocked this outfit well and everyone knew it.

Some pass byers complimented me or said I looked pretty. And the girl I like at the instruments shop thought I looked pretty as well! It meant a lot to me when she said that. I felt like I could walk with confidence all day.

I guess today wasn't so bad after all. I even got to gaze at the cherry blossoms today. Maybe treating myself was a good thing today. I felt amazing, it made me sleep better at night.

[fanfics4all]

Stupid Fight

Request: Yes / No This is based on this post that I saw a little bit ago from @hereforhalstead

Don’t be shy, request things! <3 Have a nice day/night

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader 

Word count: 487

Warnings: Mentions of a fight, but its just fluff! 

PLEASE DO NOT STEAL MY WORK, I WORK HARD ON MY FICS AND IT’S NOT COOL TO STEAL SOMEONE ELSE’S WORK! 

If you want to be on the tag list for anything (My series fics, specific character fics, or just all of them) All you have to do is send me an ask and I will add you! 

Masterlist 

If you enjoy my work, you could also show support by buying me a coffee! 

(Not my photo, credit to whoever made it!)

The couch creaked beneath me as I shifted for what felt like the hundredth time, trying to find some semblance of comfort. The argument with Spencer replayed over and over in my head, the details blurring together into a mess of stubborn words and wounded pride. I knew it was something trivial, but here I was, lying alone on the couch in the middle of the night refusing to budge. 

Spencer’s silence from the bedroom was haunting and I wondered if he was doing the same thing I was, lying there staring at the ceiling and trying to ignore the emptiness beside him. Normally, he’s right here, curled around me, his hand resting on my waist and breathing softly against my neck. But tonight, both of us were too stubborn to give in. 

I closed my eyes, forcing myself to settle, but every noise in the quiet room seemed louder and every shadow somehow colder. The minutes crawled by, each one stretching longer than the last. I hated this distance, the silence that had settled between us. But I wasn’t about to be the first one to break, not tonight. 

Just as I started drifting off, I felt the couch dip beside me, and a familiar warmth settled close. My heart skipped as Spencer slid beside me, one arm slipping around my waist as he pulled me close. I felt his fingers trace gentle patterns along my arm and I closed my eyes, sinking into the comfort of his touch. 

“Spencer…” I mumbled, my voice barely a whisper. But before I could say anything else, he nudged my head gently, guiding it into the crook of his neck. His chin rested lightly on top of my head and I let out a soft breath, inhaling the familiar scent of him. My heart softened, and all the tension slipped away as I relaxed against him. 

“We can go back to arguing in the morning.” He whispered, his words gentle but filled with something deeper. 

“But I can’t take another second without you next to me.” I closed my eyes, the fight within me softening as his fingers continued tracing soothing patterns on my arm. I knew at that moment, that the argument didn’t matter. Not when he was here, holding me as though I was his entire world. I could feel his heartbeat steady and calm, lulling me into a warmth I could never find alone. 

I wrapped my arm around him, burring myself closer and breathing in his scent. The silence wasn’t cold or stained anymore… it was peaceful, a promise that no argument, no matter how big or small, could keep us apart for long. And as I drifted off in his arms, I knew that in the morning we’d talk, we’d apologize, and we’d make things right. Because with Spencer, I’d never be alone, never be without this warmth and love that anchored us both.

Tag list: @les-bio-lie @tashy-bear @ashwarren32 @hollie-blogs-blog1 @lover-of-books-and-tea @nerdygaloresposts @teenwolfbitches28 @kmc1989 @drw0301bieber @lady-of-lies @ravenmoore14 @ravenempress101 @cillianchamp @rowanthomasknapp @rachelxwayne @ready-4-fanfiction @pettyjayy @bruisedfists-and-splitlips @answer-the-sirens @andreasworlsboring101  @reidssmile @currentfangirl-futuremedexaminer @mggstyles @satans-0-spawn @emofairygay @thesoftestwarlock @liz-owl

[unetherian]

hi i’m very very new to the community and just trying to figure myself out! do you have any general resources for people new to the therian/alterhuman community?

also, do you have tips for a mourning dove, whitetail deer, or general feline and canine tips? sorry if that’s too much you can just do one if you want

thank you and no pressure!

(from @it-might-be-a-creature)

Hi and welcome to our community! 𖡼𖤣𖥧𖡼𓋼𖤣

To find reliable information on alter/nonhumanity, I recommend the Youtube channel of therian territory and pink dolphin, I find it very interesting.

You can also search the therian wiki/otherkin wiki/alterhuman wiki, but take this information with a grain of salt, as some information may be wrong, missing, or even completely invented. But generally it's pretty decent.

Therian guide is also a nice source.

For tips, know that I'm a feline therian, so I have more tips for felines, but I'll do my best for the rest :3

⚝Tips for mourning dove :

Put a blanket on your back and hold the ends with your hands to simulate wings (a classic)

Make or buy a shawl with feather patterns, I've already seen some crocheted ones on tumblr, it's gorgeous.

If you can, try to climb a tree (be careful though) or something high up.

Try vocals! You can try making bird calls(There are many tutorials on YouTube)!

Listen to nature sounds (especially bird chirping) by going outside, or indoors by listening to nature soundtracks on Spotify, for example.

Go outside to a windy place, close your eyes and imagine yourself flying.

Wears clothes with wide sleeves, which can resemble wings.

⚝Tips for whitetail deer:

Try deer vocals!

Focus on your sense of smell, and smell all the little odors that are barely visible in your environment (to be done in nature, if possible)

Learn the body language of white-tailed deer!

Gently tap your fingers on a hard surface to imitate a hoof sound

White-tailed deer are most active at dawn and dusk, you may be able to walk during these hours, if you can (be careful, be accompanied if possible). They usually rest during the day, so you could take advantage of this time to have a little nap!

⚝Tips for felines:

Practice purring, growling, meowing, (yes, even big cats can purr, although it's a little different than for cats)

Hunt for stuffed animals before eating and imagine eating what you hunted.

Create your own paper claws, it's easy to do and you'll find various tutorials everywhere.

Do your makeup to look like a feline (you don't have to cover your whole face, a little eye shadow under your nose, a line in the small hollow that connects your nose to your mouth and black on the the lower lip can be really euphoric)

Take care of your hair! Don't forget it's your fur.

Climb high (without putting yourself in danger and without doing things your body can't handle), because cats generally feel safer up high.

"claim" your territory! It can be in your garden/house or in a public place (just don't forget that in the latter case this land does not officially belong to you), It is very effective in satisfying one's territorial instincts.

⚝Tips for canines:

Makes canine vocals.

Canines often live in packs or groups, so try to spend more time with loved ones.

Try quadrobics if you can, but be sure to hydrate well and especially not to overdo it if you have arm, leg, heart, ect problems. It's normal that it hurts your fingers and joints a little and that it's difficult to find your balance, but it will pass with time. But if you really suffer a lot every time you try, don't insist, it's okay.

Wrap yourself in a blanket and imagine sleeping with your pack.

Take a nap outside if it's hot, it always feels good.

You can watch the movie "Wolves Walker", I haven't watched it myself yet but apparently it's very popular with canine therians (and many alterhumans in general).

I hope this helped you :3 I posted a list of things to do when you're a newly awakened alter/nonhuman, if you're interested, This might be useful to you. (no forcing)

https://www.tumblr.com/unetherian/760241665074233344/things-to-do-when-youre-a-newly-awakened?source=share

Have a great day/night! Bye!

[loriache]

V + L for the ask game c:

c:

ask game

V: Which character do you relate to most?

In Dunmeshi… There are parts of many different characters I relate to. Marcille’s high-strung, high-achiever, prissy nature is relatable (as a very small kid I would get upset when painting or playing in the garden because I got paint or dirt under my nails). I find Kabru’s focus on overthinking about the Morally Right Thing to do in every situation relatable - and find his decisiveness admirable. I relate to Laios’ difficulty in social situations, Falin’s Weird Creature Status at her school, and her tendency to self-efface and deny her own agency. In the Laios/Shuro fight I’ve been the person who was doing the wrong thing without realising, but I’ve also been the person feeling paralysingly anxious about being in public with someone who is being too weird or rude or Not Masking Well Enough or whatever. So I relate to Toshiro there too!

I suppose part of what makes this manga compelling is how grounded many of the characters feel. So I can see myself in many of the characters, particularly the main characters, very easily.

L: Say something genuinely nice about a character who isn’t one of your faves

I don’t have many characters I dislike, to be honest - so let’s say, Delgal. His treatment of Thistle was unfair & their codependency was inflected in his favour by class and race and Thistle was never able to truly reckon with how bad that relationship was for him. It makes me so sad, and it does make me mad at Delgal! Piece of Shit King!

Ok now that I’ve said why I don’t like him… time to say something genuinely nice. ….

I have a hard time imagining how he could have had a better relationship with Thistle than he did, in the circumstances they were in. Don’t get me wrong, it was terrible - but it was never not going to be. If they didn’t buy Thistle, it’s because they got him for free; he was never ever an equal or even an equally full person to Delgal, and being raised in the way Delgal was, I don’t see how he could have recognised that as wrong without recognising his whole life, his identity, and the foundation of his role in his society as wrong. They didn’t have a chance.

No, that’s not… nice. Let me try again. There’s something beautiful about the way his power over his people and over Thistle ultimately trapped him in a symbolic role, denying any agency or real meaningful power. The king is the guy whose soldiers will come and beat you up if you don’t give him some of your harvest - that’s a big part of what administration of large regions entails! But what does that mean when you don’t need to eat? Without the threat of death, all power is ultimately symbolic, except Thistle’s - who is the only one with any real power anymore. There might be carvings all over the dungeon praising Delgal, but that means nothing! By asking Thistle to save him from death, he ultimately gave up the foundation of his power, which was the threat of force. Isn’t that great?

Also… not really nice, huh. Well. I think it was cute that he came up with the idea of Thistle trying foods from his homeland : ) That’s a genuinely nice gesture! And he wouldn’t have had Laios beaten for being in the way at his wedding feast. Not the worst type of guy that he could’ve been.

ask game

Thank you for playing Ask Game with me : ) you picked good questions!

[inu-jiru]

"Oops" Episode Rambles

I rewatched the episode for the sake of my rewrite post (plus I just wanted to see the final animation, credit where it's due, the show is fun to look at sometimes), and decided to share my thoughts since I haven't done that for an episode in a while:

Ngl, I'm honestly really indifferent towards Fizzmodeus, like I get that it's most people's positive for this episode but I honestly just don't care about it. I think it's because I'm so jaded to the 99% of dialogue that's sex-related to enjoy the sentimental stuff but also because it's just Bee and Vortex again, and it begs the question of why the shit Stolas' situation is so special (aside from him being Vivzie's baby) when the Sins just do whatever and either hide it poorly or don't hide it at all. Who came up with this hierarchy in the first place? Because the more we go on the more it seems like a thing that only Goetians focus on (which Ozzie should be apart of so what the fuck).

Speaking of Ozzie, I don't get why he's so nice, same with Bee. I'm not asking for everyone to be a shithead 24/7 but the concept of Hell's leaders, the ones who've created and are enabling the world of kill-or-be-killed that we've seen, being 100% friendly is just odd to me. Then again, Viv's idea of Hell is a nonstop party where they're all good unlike the EVIL BAD TOTALLY NOT GOOD angels and Adam so it doesn't surprise me. Also his whole thing about "Lust shouldn't be forced". Um? I'd get it if he were talking about LOVE, but Lust is not something I'd ever consider to be consensual in nature, especially not in Hell. That's all I'll say on the matter because it's a very serious topic, but then again, maybe I should consider myself lucky a topic that dark isn't being butchered by Vivzie. All of that said, I do like Ozzie's voice actor, he's really nice-sounding.

I don't understand what the hell happened with Fizz and Blitzo. Who the fuck was going around saying that Blitzo didn't wanna see Fizz and didn't tell Fizz that Blitzo showed up? I have to assume it was maybe Barbie or Cash (assuming Cash didn't also die in the fire). If it was Barbie I'm not entirely sure why. As far as we're aware (unless they retcon it in later) Barbie shouldn't have seen Blitzo knocking into the cake or leaving Fizz, so if she did it because their mom died, I can't see how she would know that. Maybe someone saw Blitzo and passed that on to Barbie, but the fact of the matter is I shouldn't have to Tetris-style guess and insert explanations for the episode. If any episode was going to be a full on backstory, it should've been this one, not The Circus, especially with Unhappy Campers being before this one.

On a positive note, I think those little fly-dog things are so cute in a kinda ugly way. I do think it's kind of a nice small look into Fizz's mind that he'd have one that's wheelchair-bound because he'd relate to it. Ozzie patching up Fizz was nice too, as much as I don't care for the couple, I'm glad that Fizzmodeus at leasts SHOWS the shit that Stolitz doesn't. And speaking of Stolitz, yeah Blitzo keep telling me all these things Stolas TOTALLY does for you yeah I'm sooooooo sure

And, like other people have said, Stolas was totally pointless and useless like always, and what a nice cool guy who totally isn't bad like the other Goetia when he let that lawyer guy get brutally murdered, like yeah I guess it wasn't really his place to help or anything but I don't think having him smirk and say "Get fucked, little one" is doing him any favors. I do have to wonder if they're actually gonna go through with this Crystal shit. I'm not gonna bother guessing anymore because like I said before, the show will throw a biggest, goofiest curveball at you to try and seem less predictable.

And speaking of curveballs, Crimson and Striker. That's it. That's all I gotta say on that subject. I miss Harvest Moon Festival, man. Like I'm no Striker fangirl who buys all the Striker merch and shit but damn he's so pathetic now. Why did Blitzo have to recreate the shit that happened and shoot the barrel when he could've shot Striker in the face while he was talking? Please, I need someone else on the writing team PLEASE

Anyway I think that's it for now.

[copperheid]

So I've recently gained a lot of weight

I got put on medication for my depression. Because my appetite was low and I was a bit underweight for my height my doctor prescribed Mirtazapine

And he told me I might gain a little bit but it should plateau after a while and it shouldn't be anything crazy.

It used to be that I struggled to recognise I was hungry until I was starving, but I rarely got to that point as I would be satisfied with a small lunch and a small dinner so long as I remembered to have them. I didn't have much need for snacks or breakfast.

Now since I started the medication I constantly feel like I'm starving. That painful, ravenous hunger that distracts from everything else until it is satiated, but it's never pacified long. I feel like I have to have breakfast, lunch and a sizable dinner as well as several snacks or else I'll be suffering terribly.

9 months later I've gone from a UK size 8 (US 4) to a UK 14 (US 10) and I've put on 20kgs / 42lbs, and that number is still steadily climbing.

I've started going to the gym to try to burn it off as often as I can, but I just wind up even hungrier after a workout.

I'm currently trying to muscle through it on willpower alone but I feel so awful. Food is literally all I can think about when I try to restrict my intake to what I used to eat. I feel like my whole body is on fire. And it's not working. Even restricting myself to eating the bare minimum needed to function I still see the number climb.

And while I have liked some of the changes that came with the weight gain- like bigger boobs and actually having an ass and hips...putting on weight in my belly has been very difficult to accept. Buying new clothes every couple of months even more so. Seeing the numbers go up on the scale, on the measuring tape and on my clothes...seeing the stretch marks grow in number and intensity day by day...it's scary. I worry it might never stop and I'll become so big that I can't lead a normal life anymore. That I'd need to buy a second seat on a plane. That I couldn't ride a roller coaster. That I couldn't dance. That I couldn't walk.

I worry that people are talking behind my back, saying I let myself go, that I'm ruined now. I worry my partner will stop finding me attractive.

I feel like I never have anything nice to wear because everything highlights my huge belly. I'm constantly bloated and could be mistaken for pregnant if you didn't know me. All my trousers dig in painfully and I heave over the top of them. Shirts are too tight and ride up to show off my pale, rounded skin.

And sometimes I find it sexy, in a strange way. Like my body is changing and growing softer, and soft bodies are sexy...but then the shame creeps in. Like I'm doing something wrong and taboo by finding my own bigger body sexy.

I feel forced to be more feminine than I am - dresses and skirts are the only clothes I feel comfortable in. Everything else digs in too much, shows to much, or adds bulk that makes me feel even bigger. I was never a girly girl - I'm not even sure I'm a girl at all.

I'm going to Japan next week and I had originally planned to buy clothes while I'm there. I had been excited about all the different styles I wouldn't be able to get back in Scotland. Now the idea fills me with dread. They won't stock my size in any of the normal stores there. I'll have to shop in stores with insulting names like Moo Moo Girl and Hey Fatty Boom Boom.

Maybe I'll grow to accept my body with time. Maybe I will even be able to lose the weight somehow. But i don't want to come off the medication. It's been the only thing that's made a dent in my depression and I couldn't stand to lose that. Maybe I could even be fat and happy someday - better than skinny and dead.

I just hope I figure this shit out soon.

[justsomestoicguy]

The Red Means I Love You

It's been a week since my ill-fated slip-up with Stain. 

He left things off on a "let's continue this another time" note. But it's the kind where he purposefully tries to steer away from the topic.

And honestly? I'm grateful we haven't resumed that convo, because I am far from ready yet.

But on a lighter note, I managed to escape my group's wrath with the 'ol "family emergency" excuse. 

Well… mostly.

Tanaka gave me hell for ditching the project and my work. I had to play the sympathy card hard, claiming, "Family's complicated, you know?", knowing damn well she wouldn't buy it for one bit. But hey, it was enough to keep her off my back.

So now, I've settled into a routine: Ops on Tuesdays and Thursdays—schoolwork and friends the rest of the week. 

Oh, and keeping in touch with Stain through a burner phone. Very secret agent-y, if I do say so myself.

Today, I'm back at the 2nd Training Corps, which apparently only consists of Toga and me for now. 

I had some suspicions about why Stain placed me here with her, and they were immediately confirmed when Stain mentioned Scourge left him a list of people to take in in case of a worst-case scenario (shrewd as always, Scourge).

He thought that, by extension, that also meant getting me close with said people, and so he did what he did and put me here.

It left me wondering, though, what other names are on that list? Dabi? Twice? Other "salvageable" members from the League of Villains?

Unfortunately, I couldn't ask Stain about it since he's too busy running the Ops. Dude's surprisingly competent. 

And as for Toga, well…

"Ran-kun!" she calls out, her voice bright and bubbly. "You done sweeping over there?"

I finish up the last bit of dust and lean on my broom, glancing at her. "Yeah, just about. Sensei'll have our heads if she finds a speck of dirt left."

Why are we on cleaning duty, you may ask? Well, because according to our very wise and very pretty mentor, Onibi-sensei (or just Sensei as we call her), "Discipline is the key to success."

Not quite what I imagined when I signed up for secret vigilante work, but hey, I'll take what I can get for now.

Toga skips over to me, her smile widening. "It's kinda fun, y'know? Doing this with you."

"Sure," I say, forcing a chuckle. "As long as it doesn't involve getting yelled at, I'm game."

We've been getting along pretty well, all things considered. 

Unlike me, Toga has happily left her old life behind. And while I know her reasons (thanks, MHA fandom), I'm waiting for her to tell me herself. Building rapport and all that.

But, of course, it's never that simple. 

Toga has a... unique way of expressing affection. 

Case in point: she pulls out a knife, eyes twinkling with that signature, unsettling glee. "Ran-kun…" she addresses sweetly, almost innocently.

Great. Just great. I sigh, trying to keep my cool.

"No, Toga-chan," I say firmly, holding up a hand. 

Her smile falters, eyes darkening with a hint of hurt. I quickly add, "You shouldn't just rush into people like that. It's not polite. You should ask nicely first if you want something from them."

She blinks, caught off guard. For a moment, I think I've made a terrible mistake. But then her face lights up with pure unadulterated joy. 

"Oh! Okay! Er, Ran-kun, can I taste your blood, please? Pretty please?"

Don't be so blunt about it!

Still, I reluctantly (though I tried not to show it) nod. "I—sure. But let me do the dirty work myself. And no drinking directly from me, okay?" I motion for her to give me the knife.

She pouts, clearly not thrilled with the stipulations, but agrees, handing me the blade.

I scream internally, grabbing a cup from a nearby counter and mentally preparing to make a small incision on my hand. 

C'mon, Ran. Just get this over with.

Angling the knife, I slice swiftly, drawing blood from the back of my hand over the cup.

Y'ouch.

It hurts, but I'm thankfully able to keep a neutral face. Toga watches with rapt attention, practically bouncing on the balls of her feet. 

As the cup fills to about a centimeter, I pull my hand back and press some tissues against the cut. 

Toga snatches the cup and downs it all in one go, her face glowing with satisfaction as her eyes fluttered shut in apparent ecstasy. 

Shivers. Everywhere. 

Yeesh.

"So sweet," she murmurs. "God, you're so sweet, Ran-kun." Toga grins and clings to my arm with a dreamy look. 

"I love you sooo, so much!"

Ah, the "L" word. Here we go.

Gotta shut this down, fast.

"I don't like girls," I blurted out. If there's anything that can get her to back off, it's this.

She blinks in surprise before beaming again. "That's okay! I can turn into a boy for you!"

"No," I said instantly, "that wouldn't be true to yourself, now wouldn't it?"

That finally gives her pause, and she sulks. "Oh..."

"But," I continue, searching for the right words, "you have the cutest smile a girl could ever have, y'know? And your love for people is... intense, to say the least. Which I deeply admire."

Her face lights up again. "You really think so?"

"Absolutely," I say, patting her on the shoulder. "But you deserve someone who'll love you the way you love them. And that someone just isn't me."

She looks down, clearly disheartened, but I emphasize, "Don't worry, I'll still be here for you as a friend, okay? We're friends, right?"

Her face brightens once more. "Yeah! Friends!"

I chuckle weakly, inwardly sighing in relief. 

It's hard work being in good graces with Toga, but I'll put up with it.

She was one of my favorite characters in MHA, for one.

For another…

Having someone with her quirk—perfect for infiltration and espionage—on my side could be invaluable. 

Especially with the goal I have in mind.

Just then, I hear the door creak.

Geh—Sensei's back.

"Boss Stendhal!" 

…Now that catches my attention. 

I turn around and see Stain approaching us.

"Boss Stendhal!" Toga repeats, waving at Stain excitedly. "Ran-kun and I were just finishing up our cleaning duties!"

Stain nods. "Good. Discipline is important."

He then turns his gaze toward me. "Akako Ran, I'd like to have a word with you."

My eyes widen, and a smile begins to blossom.

"Are we finally gonna talk about it?" I ask, skipping as I walk toward Stain.

He nods again. "Yes."

"Talk? About what?" Toga chimes in, gaze flicking back and forth between Stain and me.

"It's confidential, Toga Himiko," he replies.

This makes her pout. "Fiiine," she drawls, huffing her way away from us.

I watch her leave with a chuckle. It's good that she didn't protest, at least.

"Akako Ran."

I glance at Stain.

"Let's go somewhere private," he states.

My nerves and excitement become almost too much for me to handle.

"So you'll hear me out on my plan?" I whisper, wanting to make sure.

Stain studies my face.

"Since it concerns the Hero Public Safety Commission, after all."

Heh.

My grin broadens.

—

Previous Chapter

Next Chapter

Chapter 1

[threshie]

Bye-Bye Bras

It took decades, but I have finally officially decided to ditch bras for good. It sounds like a little thing, but it's SO freeing to be this comfortable while out and about, instead of shoving myself into the sensory discomfort that is a bra every time I step out of the house. I think it took discovering the autism to give myself permission to just not care if somebody may see the outline of nipples.

I don't really have anywhere else to ramble about this to the world, so my Tumblr gets to hear about it instead, LOL. I would literally make myself put a bra on if I set foot out of the house, even just to check the mail, and realized it had become part of masking. So far the only people who have seemed to care are a bunch of little old ladies giving me side-eye while grocery shopping, and I'm gonna prioritize my day to day comfort, not their two minutes of perceiving me ever.

Anyway, wheee, I've given myself permission to go braless and kicked the idea that that is inappropriate to the curb. I'm so comfy in my clothes while outside now that it feels like I'm still in my pajamas. Cripes.

I tried wearing double layers at first with a tank top as an undershirt. Overheated really bad, though. Then I got the guts to go out in only the tank top, and you know, the world did not end. Just this morning I realized, hey, my entire wardrobe is allowed to be worn braless, actually! I suppose the next big step will be shopping for clothes sans bra and buying things that look nice on me without a bra there at all, then not caring if I show up in photos with no bra, etc, etc.

I think I've got more sensory issues than I previously thought. When I tried to force myself to get back to wearing a bra daily, I just couldn't stand it. So this sounds silly, and like a small thing, but it's a big deal for me to allow myself to be this comfortable and be seen without the stupid bra, which I literally only wore as part of masking.

I'm lucky to have a small chest and find bra-free so comfy. I don't need support, and I don't need nipple covering, so I don't need the bra at all. Whoohoo!

I've been struggling with this for years, by the way. I tried wearing only yoga bras (made me sweat.) I tried sports bras (gave me killer neck and shoulder pain.) I tried stick-on nipple covers (looked worse under the shirt than the shape of my actual nipples.) Finally, I realized that I didn't want or need any of that stuff, I was just trying to accommodate my desire to not wear a bra at all in a way that was acceptable to others. And wearing no bra IS acceptable, actually. ♥