#and if i could have anything other than extremely black and white thinking about the whole ordeal . maybe it wouldnt be such an ordeal

[july-19th-club]

hate when i'm having insomnia and i cant point to the exact reason . which to be fair is a problem i have elsewhere but i want to be able to pin down a specific thing i did and go welp won't do that again and then the problem would stop . but instead i do everything 'right' according to what has worked perfectly every single night for a month . and then it doesn't work for some bullshit reason .

[weirdmageddon]

i was thinking about this since i posted earlier about us needing to address the trend of gen z men being pulled into alt-right pipelines might have contributed to the outcome of this election.

i think contrapoints is really smart, and from what i’ve seen, has been way more effective at getting people out of harmful ideological pipelines than i’ve seen from the majority of leftists online who instead berate and drive a greater wedge of antipathy (though i understand why! and it can be very hard to have empathy for the people who see you as a threat). that antipathy makes the right more radicalized because they don’t feel like they can talk about anything without the “crazy lefties” who won’t even engage with them. where did these issues come from?

what i’ve noticed, and i’m even guilty of this, is that people don’t interact with groups of people whom they refuse talk to, which makes realities more hypothetical in the minds of their opponent since they aren’t open to seeing reality from their perspective. this is true on both sides. from what i’ve observed, it seems to originate from hypothetical perception of the opponent, but when people treat those perceptions as though they are real, it becomes real with their actions, which then makes the antipathy justified to someone. again, on both sides.

what makes contrapoints so successful at breaking this down is that is that she creates these socratic dialogue skits that represent real people and ideologies, has a sense of humor, isn’t afraid to discuss these things, reframes how we see these things by introducing nuance to both sides. she’s a leftist, but she also knows how to engage without ripening division, of meeting someone halfway and being completely humble about it. she is able to soften extremes.

she is able to get into the mind of people who aren’t aligned with her views, understand the nuance and rationales from a realistic perspective, breaking down a big block of “this is all bad” into “ok, some of this makes sense…”, what this does is create a space for self-reflection that doesn’t feel ham-fisted (which could otherwise cause people to double down on their beliefs instead of opening up to other perspectives outside of their bubble). while also being entertaining and well-produced on top of it.

what she is doing is creating these scenarios and socratic discussions that SHOULD be happening in real life but aren’t in this polarized social climate.

i graduated from new college of florida this spring, the small liberal arts college that was in headlines across the country for ron desantis’s board of trustees hostile takeover and exodus of professors.

new students and student athletes from conservative walks of life were being basically incentivized to go there who were taught to fear the lgbt boogeyman growing up in their conservative communities. but once they actually interacted with lgbt students there, many of them they felt like they understood them, and they weren’t as bad as they were told they would be. new college of florida was also famous for getting derek black (child of the man who created stormfront, and godchild of the kkk grand wizard david duke) out of white nationalism. their peers at NCF called them out but also interacted with them, invited them to dinner. black wrote a book about it.

now of course some people are too far gone and you shouldn’t waste your time with them, like derek’s family for example. but i also think a lot of people who voted for trump are not informed, are operating off of emotion and knee-jerk mentality because it’s easier than thinking, and they are not seeing the discussions that need to be had to change their mind because fuckin…nobody is doing them.

and we feel this visceral disgust to people of the opposing party because of its associations. i just want to know how it happened and how we got to be like this. i think social media is partly to blame and also the algorithms that take people down dangerous pipelines and sharpen them, insulate them.

i myself understand the vitriol you might have for anyone that voted for trump. i feel so disappointed that half the people of this country voted against our collective benefit. and i’ve seen a lot of sentiment from the left today saying “every single person who voted for trump is dead to me. i disowned you”.

you can see the reality of trump’s demagoguery, and it’s so obvious, but what i want to know is: what do they see? why did they vote for him? emotion and entertainment travel faster and have more reach than reason. and it’s that’s why i think contrapoints’s videos are exemplary at tackling this ideological divide. this is something i’ve been thinking about for months before today and i thought now was a better time than ever to give my two cents on it.

[qqueenofhades]

oh god is biden dropping out? i don't know what happens then

Jesus effing Christ.

Few thoughts:

The billionaire Democratic donors got their way, apparently. All I saw was that the big-dollar donors were secretly putting pressure on the rank-and-file Democratic elected officials (i.e. House and Senate) to denounce Biden or not get any more money, and other shameful backroom maneuvering to knife Biden. I will refrain (lol, no I won't) from speculating that billionaires of any political stripe feel threatened by Biden's increasingly progressive tax/wealth redistribution policies, and saw their chance after the bad debate performance to knife him. Because until further notice, I'm going to think that was the biggest factor.

I don't know if there's an actual health condition that made Biden agree it was the best time (in fucking July) to step down, but if this was an issue, there needed to be planning last year, at the earliest, to prepare for a new successor. I don't know what's going on. This is a clusterfuck on many, many levels.

However: it is true that this does change things and not necessarily only for the worse, as long as Harris is immediately confirmed as the new nominee and this stupid Democrats In Disarray nonsense, which is giving the media exactly what they want, is put to a fucking end. If Harris is also swept aside and the billionaire donors try to install their preferred "Centrist!!!" candidate (lol Manchin or some shit) with an equally antidemocratic closed-door Star Chamber convention, then yes, we're fucked. Because the Congressional Black Caucus and African American voters saw exactly what the rich white man billionaires were trying to do by torching Biden and then Harris, and they are not going to play ball with some Magical White Man replacement.

If Harris is immediately confirmed as the new nominee (and to the best of my knowledge Biden has endorsed her), then she has a chance of reinvigorating the race. There were a lot of Americans who did not want either Biden or Trump. I suspect they were fucking braindead, but so be it. Harris has apparently polled pretty and increasingly well in recent days (in some cases actually better than Biden) and again, there is no remotely small-d democratic alternative to her. The billionaire donors already trashed the duly elected (by the primary process) Democratic nominee. If they do the same to Harris, then yes. We will have Trump and there won't be any more democracy in this country on either side, because the Republican big-bucks donors will gleefully pick up where the Democratic big-bucks donors left off.

Jesus fucking Christ.

The message needs to be "Harris is Joe's successor, she is younger and already has four years of experience and is the only candidate." Anything else is a fucking gift from god to the Republicans, once more getting trashed after Trump's terrible RNC speech. Maybe she can then pick Whitmer or Shapiro (both popular and effective Democratic governors of swing states, MI and PA respectively) as a running mate, but the nominee has to be Kamala. There is no other fucking choice. This is already enough of a mess.

If that can happen, and the fucking donors can refrain from fucking it up, then... okay. It's not great, but it does change things. It makes the ticket younger. It makes it historic (first Black female president beating Trump would be amazing). It could reach people disenchanted with the current two-old-white-guys setup.

This is an incredible sacrifice on Biden's part and I only wish that I could believe he did it voluntarily, rather than being forced out by a small class of rich people worrying about his policies getting too progressive.

I wish him only the best and I recognize this decision was taken under extreme pressure. If we then lose to Trump, I hope everyone who forced Biden out burns in hell.

I was a diehard Biden supporter not because I loved the guy personally, but because he was the only choice for preserving democracy in America. The essential stakes of the election have not changed, even if the billionaires just knifed us in the fucking back, possibly to nobody's surprise, because R or D, they are not our friends.

Kamala is the only choice. I will now have to defend her as hard as I did for Biden. She needs to beat Trump. There is nothing else to it. If you think she can't, then you need to work at helping her do that. There is already enough calamity and doom. We do not have a choice. We cannot lose sight of what is at stake here.

Kamala Harris/Whitmer and/or Shapiro and/or Buttigieg 2024.

The end.

[nb-octopus-writes]

once you're in the hive, the other bees assume you're supposed to be there

[Masterpost]

Summary:

Virgil accidentally gets absorbed by his best friend's brother's polycule.

In his defense, they keep feeding him every time they see him, and Patton's cooking is really good.

Chapter 1: Halloween Party

Wordcount: 1.9K

~

There are a lot of people Virgil doesn't know at this party. Remus is here, somewhere, and Virgil needs to find him again before the party ends, because Remus was his ride and he doesn't want to get left here. Janus is here too though, and Virgil doesn't think Janus would let Remus leave without him, and he's sure Remus wouldn't desert Janus, so he's trying not to worry too much about the fact that he doesn't currently know where Remus is.

But that's it for people Virgil knows, and Remus didn't even bother to introduce him to anyone before fucking off to who knows where, and Virgil’s certainly not going to walk up to a random stranger and introduce himself, so he's currently appreciating the snack table. If he's eating or deliberating on what to eat next, he can't be expected to talk to anybody, right?

“’Scuse me, itsy bitsy,” someone says from behind him, and Virgil turns to see a vaguely familiar man in a dazzling prince costume holding a fresh plate of deviled eggs.

Virgil moves so that the prince dude can set the plate down on a clear spot on the table, and frowns. “I'm taller than you, Princey.”

Prince dude shrugs, plucks one of the eggs up, and takes a large bite. “Lucky you, or we'd've had to ask you to vacate the premises,” he says. “No little spiders allowed, real or fake.”

Which, yeah, now that he's mentioned it, Virgil had noted an extreme lack of spider-themed decorations, which is unusual for Halloween. Usually there'd at least be spiderweb cupcakes, but the cupcakes at this party are mostly cute ghosts.

There's probably a good reason for that, Virgil realizes with a sinking feeling. “Should I change?”

“You got another costume handy, or were you planning on spinning a spider-silk cocoon and metamorphosing into a butterfly?”

Virgil grimaces. “No,” he admits.

Prince Dude considers him. “It's not very realistic,” he says, which is true. Virgil hadn't been going for realism, he'd been going for passable costume I can make on short notice. He's wearing black jeans and a black hoodie, and he'd cut some pool noodles in half and wrapped them in more black cloth and stuck them to his back for the other four legs. It had been a pain to get them to stay in place properly, actually, and he'd ended up sewing their wrappings to the back of his hoodie in order to keep them where he wanted them. He'd been pretty proud of it, given that Remus had dropped “we're going to a costume party at my brother's house” on him like an hour beforehand, but now he's wishing he'd come up with any other idea. He could have put a sheet over his head and been a ghost, or something. Granted, that would have required him to have a sheet that was both white and that he was willing to cut holes in, which he didn't, but still.

Prince Dude continues to quietly scrutinize Virgil, and he wants to squirm under his gaze. Eventually, the guy shrugs and says, “Might be best to ask the scaredy-cat himself. Wait here, I'll be back.” And he saunters off before Virgil can answer.

For lack of anything better to do, Virgil picks up a deviled egg and shoves the whole thing in his mouth. It's really tasty, actually, and now he's wishing he'd taken smaller bites rather than horking it down in one.

Virgil had thought that Princey was just being mean with the “scaredy-cat” thing, but the guy he's talking to now actually is dressed as a calico cat. Prince Dude points back at Virgil, and Mister Calico Cat glances in his direction, then turns back to Princey. Virgil can't hear what they're saying, but he supposes Prince Dude must've asked Calico if Virgil’s costume was too creepy crawly scary.

They talk for way longer than Virgil had expected, and he can't tell if Calico's response was more like “No, he's fine,” or more along the lines of “Yes, that's terrifying, please have him removed immediately from my sight and also my home.”

He occupies himself with another deviled egg. If he's going to get kicked out, he might as well enjoy some more of this tasty food first.

Oh, fuck. Remus.

Remus isn't going to want to leave early just to take Virgil home, and Virgil still doesn't know where he even is! Fuck!

Well, Remus could have warned him not to be a spider, so if Virgil gets kicked out of the party it'll be at least partly Remus's fault. Virgil doesn't know anybody here, but Remus knows at least half these people, and if Calico’s spider aversion is enough that there are no spider-themed decorations in the house on Halloween, that sounds like the kind of thing Remus would know about.

Granted, Remus revels in being gross and annoying, but still! He's not a total dick. He should have told Virgil.

Fucker.

Calico vanishes into the other room, and Prince Dude comes back over to Virgil. He doesn't look like he's about to kick Virgil to the curb, at least. Virgil braces himself anyway.

“Good news!” Princey says with a grin. “Li’l Mister Muffet says you don't look like a creepy crawly death dealer and he doesn't have the urge to remove you with arson!”

Virgil blinks. “...gooood?” he says slowly. He hadn't even considered kill it with fire being a potential response to his costume. That would have been worse than just getting kicked out of the party, actually.

“Honestly you're much more Doc Ock in silhouette, Spider-Man,” Princey continues. “That helps a lot.”

Virgil glances back at where Prince Dude and Calico had been chatting. “So he didn't leave the room because he can't stand the sight of me?” he asks anyway.

“Nah, he wanted to make another plate of horse devours,” Princey says, reaching past Virgil to grab a cupcake off the table. This one has a little frosting bat.

“A plate of what?” Virgil says, because surely he didn't hear that right.

“Little snacks,” Prince Dude clarifies instead of repeating himself. “Our fridge is crammed with delicious bits and bobs. It's been so hard to resist the temptation to eat them before the party.” He bites appreciatively into his cupcake, then adds with his mouth full, “You'd think he wouldn't notice what with how much he made, but nooo, sneak one chocolate covered cherry before party time and it's a lengthy scolding for you!” Princey sighs dramatically, then cheerfully devours the rest of his cupcake.

“...hors d'oeuvres?” Virgil says hesitantly.

“Yeah, a couple ordervs of deviled eggs, cheese and crackers, and those scrumptious little pinwheel things,” Princey says. Virgil’s not sure if Princey actually doesn't know how hors d'oeuvres is pronounced, or if he's messing with him, but then Princey gives him a mischievous grin that one, confirms that yes, Princey does know what he's doing, and two, is so familiar that it freezes Virgil in place as the pieces click together in his brain.

The lack of a mustache makes Prince Dude's face look different, and so does the way he did his makeup, and he carries himself differently, but it's undeniable all the same: Virgil knows that grin.

This is Remus's twin brother.

Now that he's connected the dots (you haven't connected shit) the family resemblance is clear even to Virgil’s honestly rather faceblind eyes.

This is Remus's brother, and it's his house they're partying at.

… Virgil doesn't remember the guy's name.

Fuck, he should've made sure he at least knew who the party hosts were, especially the one related to his mischief goblin of a best friend.

Well he can't exactly ask now, can he?

“Also like, five types of cupcakes,” Princey continues, oblivious to Virgil’s inner turmoil. “Seriously, have you tried the cupcakes? Chef Boiardelightful made multiple separate batches of different flavors, from scratch. And they're all delicious!”

Virgil smirks. “And did you try to snitch them before the party too?”

Princey gasps theatrically, pressing a hand to his chest. “How could you accuse me of such a thing!?” he protests with exactly as much dramatic emotion as Virgil would expect from Remus's twin. “For your information, I did not! I merely sampled a portion of the batter left on the spatula after the cupcakes had gone into the oven. Also some of the frosting.”

“He means that he licked the bowls clean,” says a new voice, and Virgil does not jump out of his skin, thank you very much. And even if he did jolt a little, it's nothing to the startled squawk Princey emits.

Calico's back, holding a platter of little finger sandwiches on toothpicks. He offers them up to Virgil, who takes one. “Thanks.”

“No worries, kiddo!” Calico says cheerfully, and puts the rest of the platter down on the snack table. Princey plucks up two sandwiches by their toothpicks, and gets a stern look in response. “Make sure to leave some for the guests,” Calico scolds.

“My delightful and beloved Patissier,” Princey says, cupping Calico's face gently with his free hand. “I assure you that each of our guests could have a heaping plateful of food and we would still have leftovers until next Tuesday. No-one will be going home hungry.”

It really is an impressive spread. Everything Virgil’s tried has been really good. Remus really could have played up the ‘free food’ angle more when trying to convince Virgil to come. If he'd known the food would be this good, then overriding his usual party-related reservations—it's gonna be loud, there will be a lot of people, I don't know anybody, etc—would have been a lot easier. Then again, Virgil probably wouldn't have believed him. He'd mostly been expecting pizza and cheap beer, honestly, not– not homemade delicacies.

The tiny sandwich Calico gave him is lightly toasted, with some kind of sliced-meat-and-cream-cheese filling, and a little green leafy garnish on top. It definitely looks much fancier than most things Virgil eats, and he can understand why Calico doesn't want Princey to eat them all. That probably took a decent amount of effort. He almost feels bad eating it himself, except that Calico had offered it to him specifically, and it would probably be more rude at this point to not eat it.

“Are you sure my costume is okay?” Virgil asks, interrupting the minor squabble Princey and Calico had fallen into.

“Oh, yes, you're fine,” Calico assures him. “Trust me, if you were pinging my brain as an actual spider I wouldn't be in the room right now, let alone standing next to you.”

“Really, cause most cats I know would eat a spider soon as look at it,” Virgil quips, and is rewarded with Calico laughing.

“That wouldn't be very good host-ly of me, now would it?” he says. “I would never eat a guest!”

“Not unless they're a reptile with scallions,” Princey teases, and Calico flushes.

“Hey!” he protests, swatting Princey's shoulder with one hand and trying to cover his extremely red face with the other. Virgil wonders what the reference was, exactly, but doesn't think it's his place to ask. It seems rather personal, from how hard Calico is blushing.

…maybe he'll ask Remus later if he knows what the story there is.

~~~~

Chapter 2: The Morning After

[colourstreakgryffin]

hii! could u write headcanons of Alastor x Male (preferly) Overlord Reader who is the opposite of him? Rarely smiles, isn't very chatty and is rough? and since Alastor loves dancing and singing, maybe Reader is shy about it and doesn't like the way he dances and sings?

You know what! I am gonna kill two birds with one stone and make us an Ink Demon! Overlord. So, we’re basically like Baby Bendy from the second BATIM game. Don’t know it? Look it up. One side is harmless and adorable and the other side is monstrous and vicious— however. Here, it’ll just be causal demon form than evil demonic Ink Demon form! Anyway. Let’s goooo. I’ve been doing a lot of GN for Alastor, this time we got a man! I don’t know if you want us to be romantic, I am just gonna guess platonic

Alastor- Follow Me

You look pretty cute and friendly. Black and white, cartoony, with adorable stereotypical demon features like arch-like horns and a long-thin tipped tail. Most importantly, your entire body is made of ink. Only your clothing is touchable, otherwise, your ‘skin’ is so soft, liquidity and stains anything it touches. For that reason and one more, you harden yourself up and avoid conversation

Alastor, the Radio Demon, is not a fan of making friends with men. He prefers women, they are just easier to talk to. However, you’re not as vile and unlikeable as most men with your personality is. You’re the strict, stern, responsible one of the Overlords, ordering the other Overlords to pay attention to Camilla Carmine

Alastor doesn’t know why but he finds you interesting

Your uncontrollable Ink Demon side is extremely violent and merciless so you had to develop a thick shell, in order to make sure nothing can make it trigger at random. It’s too much of a risk, hence why you behave in the way you do. It’s a self-defence mechanism and it’s a protection method to everybody else around too

Alastor doesn’t even care that you’re untouchable. He will touch you anyway, getting annoyed by the black ink forming your body in a in-fact, solid fashion, getting onto his sleeves or hand but he ignores it to converse with you

Alastor also ignores the gruff warnings you give out when he approaches you. That you’re dangerous and that the Ink Beast will try rip him to pieces if it’s let out. If anybody thinks Alastor would be scared of the Ink Demon, they have another thing coming. He’d actually like to face off this Ink Beast one day

It looks like, to every other Overlord, that Alastor is talking to a brick wall when he talks to you. Since you’re not responding not even looking at him, just focusing on Camilla and her statements with the most bland and rough expression, not a single hint of a grin. You’re the opposite of Alastor and yet, he’d like to befriend you

Alastor keeps trying and trying without even halting. He’s quite the persistent man and when he wants to befriend somebody, he won’t stop until he gets what he desires and at this moment, it’s to make friends with you, rather you shut him down and bark at him to stay away

Alastor finds your overall appearance cute. You look like you were drawn for a kids cartoon in the early 19th century. Possibly around his own time of the 1920s-1930s. You’re bendy and mendable, you defy all laws of logic and have cartoon physics on your side. You’re like if a kids cartoon demon tried to be a big bad mafia boss and ruled a part of Hell itself, and he isn’t filtered when it comes to this opinion. He straight up tells you all that

Alastor, overtime, ends up succeeding like the little I don’t take no for a answer brat he is in getting you to agree in joining him out to the Hazbin Hotel and accompanying him for a nice little tour. Throughout the tour, he notices that some music in the Lobby is blasting and without even hesitating, he drags you over to join him into a dance

“Come, my dear sir. Let us dance this tension away!” Alastor chimes out rather excited, immediately leading you into a half-messy dance performance with him as the head. You just stumble along, slightly gritting your fangs in discomfort but it won’t be acknowledged by Alastor in the slightest. All he cares about is putting a smile on your face

Alastor laughs warmly as you attempt to try keep up with him during this dance he had dragged you into. You’re clearly quite timid, not enjoying the way the Deer Overlord dances and sings but you either don’t care enough to shut him up or you are too kind to try shut him up

Alastor likes to tease you about your behaviour and your looks. He isn’t frightened or intimidated at all by your beast side and you’re too colourless and squishy to be scary, he does actually view you as a wonderful friend. Even whilst you’re cold and dismissive, he can get you to acknowledge him and be polite to him so it’s a win for Alastor in the end

It’s been a long time since Alastor got a male friend so he can be more crude and snarky with you, without actually needing to be sensitive, like with his women friends

“My good fellow. You don’t need to act so broody. Smile now, you’re safe and whatever you are worried about, it’s not going to do anything to you or me or anybody in this Hotel”

[daisykihannie]

𝙳𝚎𝚙𝚛𝚒𝚟𝚎𝚍 | 𝙱.𝙲

Pairing: Sub!Chan x Amab!Reader

Warnings: sensory deprivation, smut, Nsfw, established relationship, unprotected sex, anal sex, spanking, Chan cries just a little, begging, rough and soft??, manhandling, slight bondage, i love when men whimper, etc.

A/N: i was honestly really trying to keep this shorter and mostly just the smut but i’ve now learned that i can’t help but write my fics in detail:/

Today was extremely exhausting and Chan honestly just wanted to have his brain clock out and bed rot for the next 8-10 business days but realistically, that’s not an option. Luckily he had enough mental strength to send you a message to let you know the state he was in. You and Chan have been boyfriends for 4 years now, you both knew each other better than you knew yourselves. That being said, you knew exactly what your boyfriend needed to shut his brain up.

“I’m home.” Chan groaned out, exhaustion heavy in his voice. He noticed the dim lighting in the living room, slipping out of his Vans and walking toward the couch where you were seated with just the lamp next to the sofa on. Chan wasted no time in straddling your lap as he took his seat on your thighs and wrapped himself around your rigid form like a koala. “Welcome home my love~” you purred out and began to drag your fingernails across his scalp in a soothing manner similar to the way you’d scratch a cat on the head.

Chan nuzzled his nose against your throat, breathing in the smell of your cologne and humming in satisfaction. “Have i ever told you how incredible you smell?” chan mumbled, refusing to remove his nose from your neck. “hmmmm i don’t think you have baby.” you teased, knowing he tells you multiple times a day just how much he loves how you smell. “mmm well, you smell so fucking sexy, it’s insane.” chan retorted softly, pushing his nose further into the skin of your neck.

You two stayed there in a comfortable silence for a little while longer before you used your free hand that wasn’t scratching Chan’s scalp to dig into your little chest of secrets next to the couch to fish out the special sound proof headphones you used specifically for times like this. They made it very difficult to hear anything, even without any music playing, and genuinely impossible to hear with music playing. You removed your hand from Chan's black locks, earning a whine of protest from the man still clinging to you like his life depended on it. “Shhhh don’t get all bratty on me just yet baby.” you sighed as you slipped the white headset to rest comfortably on his head.

At the realization of the head set and the muffled and very very faint noises that could make it through, he pulled away from your neck and looked at you with giant puppy dog eyes, hoping his suspicions are right about what you’re about to do. You gave him a soft, fond smile and showed him the blind fold you had also pulled out. If Chan was a dog, his tail would be wagging at 100 miles a minute right now.

It wasn’t very often that Chan was able to fully let go like this. He was someone who was too focused on his partners pleasure to really allow himself to give over his control and submit to you fully like he did with sensory deprivation. Often times he’d end up in his head too much and over think everything if he wasn’t as exhausted as he was right now. He needed permission to allow his brain to log out and know he’d be completely and utterly cared for and right now, you were giving him that permission and he was beyond grateful.

You slipped the blindfold over your boyfriend’s eyes, the strap wrapping around the headphones to further keep them in place on his head. You decided it’d be best to go ahead and turn on the playlist for times like this before the next part of the full sensory deprivation experience. Once the music started, Chan started to bob his head gently and rock slightly to the music, allowing himself to begin to let go and drown in what senses he still had.

The next step was removing his ability to touch, two of his five sense already removed from him. You slipped the leather gloves over each of his hands and placed each gloved hand onto his lap, one hand on each thigh. You noticed that his rocking movements had now been focused to his hips as he softly began to grind his half-hard cock against your still flaccid one. A soft groan falling from your lips as you tried to focus back on the task at hand and not how the blood rushed straight to your cock at the feeling of your boyfriend's arousal.

Now that Chan’s hands were gloved, you took out the leather and suede wrist cuffs and began to buckle the material to his left wrist first. Insuring that the cuff was snug enough to almost completely restrict his movements but not so tight that they’d become painful. Once the left wrist was perfect, you moved his arms behind his back, resting his right wrist above the left and pulling the man on your lap forward so his muscular chest was resting against your own, bracing his body weight against you fully now that he couldn’t use his hands to keep himself up.

You placed your chin over his shoulder to peer down the expanse of his back, the muscles rippling and flexing as he tried to continue rolling his hips but the new position didn’t allow much movement. Now that both arms were securely fastened behind his back, you landed a sharp smack to the plush of his ass, a yelp falling from the other male’s lips in response and you could feel Chan’s cock twitch against your stomach where he was braced against you.

You landed a second sharp smack to the same cheek, a whimper leaving your boyfriend’s lips now as he chased the feeling for a moment, the pain and excitement coursing through his veins like a drug. He didn’t know what you were doing and wouldn’t know what was going to happen to him and the thought of being good for you, allowing you to take him apart by every individual thread and fiber of his being just to rebuild him all over again, had his brain feeling like cotton candy as Apartment by BOBI ANDONOV pounded in his ears.

Next thing Chan felt was you sitting him back up, having to flex his abs and his thighs to hold himself up now that his balance was slightly off kilter with his hands behind his back. Then, your index and middle finger were pressed to his lower lip, tugging down on the plump, pink, tissue and showing his teeth slightly. Saliva began to pool from his mouth and wet your fingers before he let his jaw go slack, opening his mouth to you like the good boy he is.

You took this opportunity to drag your fingers along his pearly white teeth for a moment, watching as they glistened beautifully under the dim light of the lamp as you dragged his saliva along the smooth surfaces. You added more pressure to your finger tips as you dragged them across the slick surface of his gums, taking your time to feed Chan’s slight oral fixation before your next step. You languidly dragged your fingers across the wet pink muscle that was Chan’s tongue, letting him lazily lap at your digits, coating them thoroughly in his spit.

When you removed your fingers from the wet cavern, Chan let out a disgruntled whine, the empty feeling in his mouth almost had him crying. It just wasn’t enough, he needed more, so so much more from you. He needed you to touch him, use him, take over his senses in every sense of the word. He needed you to melt him down into a puddle and fuck him dumb. You were going to use the gag but he always sounds too pretty in the rare times he allows himself to fully submit to you that you couldn’t do that to yourself.

Chan was now completely deprived of most of his senses, smell being the only one he’s left with. You always allowed him to have his sense of smell considering how much he adored the way you smelled, losing the other senses only made your scent that much more overwhelming and satisfying to your boyfriend. Now that your hands had left Chan’s body, soft whines and whimpers left his lips as he wiggled on your thighs, quickly becoming desperate.

While Chan was struggling on your lap, you took the chance to pull the waistband of your sweats down. Your cock sprang free and recoiling off your stomach and leaving a small wet patch on the black fabric of your muscle tee from the beads of precum that were leaking from the reddening tip.

Seeing your muscular, domineering, boyfriend become a whining and whimpering mess for you and only you was definitely doing things to you. The way no one would be able to imagine THE Bang Chan submitting like this, becoming nothing but a submissive puddle of need for no one but you had your head spinning every time you made him like this.

After tucking the waistband underneath your balls, your hands gripped Chan’s defined hip bones and leaned forward, moving his body off your lap and allowing him to get his feet underneath himself and securely on the floor. Now that the both of you were standing, you made quick work of removing his jeans and underwear. You wanted his shirt off too but the fact that his hands were secure behind his back would make the removal impossible.

Grabbing the collar of his black Adidas compression shirt in both hands, you used a considerable amount of strength to rip the fabric apart, tearing the material to shreds until all that was left was the sleeves clinging to his shoulders. The action had Chan letting out a whiny moan, knees threatening to buckle at just how arousing it felt to have his shirt physically ripped off his body.

Now that Chan was sufficiently naked, you spun his body around and pressed your aching cock between his ass cheeks, rocking your hips languidly to drag your length through the flesh, surprised to feel something cold buried there. It had to be a plug, apparently he already prepped for you like the good boy he is. He leaned his head back against you and pushed his ass back to meet your movements with a moan. “P-please… n-need my baby… need you i-inside me” he whimpered, luckily he learned how to control his volume now so he wasn’t screaming but truly whimpering in a low and sultry tone.

You pulled away from your boyfriend, earning a disapproving whine and a slight stomp of his foot when your body heat left him. He was quickly getting more and more desperate as time dragged on, showing just how mentally gone he really was. Chan’s body felt fuzzy, like cotton candy was threaded through his muscles and tendons. The blood in his veins melting the cotton candy into a syrupy goop in his body. Everywhere you touched him felt like fireworks erupted across his skin and every touch was just as unexpected as the last and his brain was melting into the beats that thrummed through the speakers of the headphones as he struggled to keep up.

You dragged just your finger tips in feather light touches across the muscles of his thighs, allowing Chan temporary sensation before you ripped it away again. Dragging your finger tips from his chin, down his throat, and scratching a soft line from his collar bones down to the middle of his sternum. His skin was pale enough that the skin immediately lit up in a pink hue before you were pulling away from him again.

You continued to touch random parts of his body, with no pattern at all so he couldn’t predict your next move. You alternated the pressure of your finger tips from heavy and bruising touches to light and barely there touches. You’d point your tongue to lick his skin occasionally or drag your teeth across his flesh, still keeping every touch unpredictable. “S-stop teasing… please… m-more i-i need more p-please” chan quickly became a stuttering mess from the assault of your sporadic touches.

With a smirk, you watched Chan and admired the way he shuddered as you blew a steady stream of air across the back of his neck, then across his nipples. You watched them pebble up and a long, needy whine left Chan’s lips again. “Please please please… need to be filled please… fuck baby- i can’t take anymore…” he was getting louder now, frustration evident in his voice. You could see tears slip from under the blindfold, painting his cheeks with clear streaks. He was always so pretty when he cried.

You placed a chaste kiss to either cheek, covering the tear tracks as you made your way to be behind him again. With his back facing you and the couch behind you, you took ahold of his hips, digging your nails into the soft skin and leaving crescent shaped marks along the bones on either side. You pulled him into your lap as you sat on the couch, your still leaking cock pressed against his ass and lower back. He yelped at the sudden feeling of falling, feeling safe in your arms again once he was settled in your lap.

“need you so bad Jagi… please please… give it to me? i-i’ve been a good boy” Chan begged, if you hadn’t tormented him enough you’d definitely drag this out a bit more. You couldn’t help it, he just sounded too pretty begging for you but the submissive moans he lets out in this head space are so much sweeter.

Taking out the bottle of lube, you poured a generous amount on your length and used your fist to coat yourself generously. Even though Chan currently had a plug keeping him stretched for you, you still didn’t want to risk hurting him too bad. Removing your hand from yourself, you pushed your index and middle finger against the metal end of the plug and pushing it in just a little further. Chan arched his back and gasped at the pressure as you rocked the plug in and out of him just barely, only enough to feel the change in pressure.

Chan was panting on your lap now as you held his wrists in your free hand and pushed him forward. You were the only thing keeping him from plunging face first into the floorboard as you began to fuck his needy hole with the plug, stretching him repeatedly over the thickest part of the plug before removing it with a pop. He was crying again, needy and desperate as his hole fluttered around nothing and you couldn’t hold back anymore.

Throwing the plug to the side, the metal clattering across the floor loudly as you lined the tip up with his hole again and used your hold on his hands to slam his hips back against yourself so you could immediately bottom out inside of him. A guttural groan leaving your lips at the feeling of his warm walls wrapping around you again. “Fuck! oh my fucking god! yes yes yes yes more please!” Chan was almost screaming as he tried to fuck himself back on your cock but not having any leverage to move himself.

He felt way too good to take your time, both hands finding his hips and holding him up slightly with both his feet planted firmly against the cushions of the couch on either side of you and allowing himself to rest his upper back on one of your shoulders. You immediately began to thrust up into his heat at a brutal pace. The sounds of his screaming and skin slapping together every time your balls slapped against his own mixing into the air of the apartment.

You loved how loud Chan got when he didn’t have a chance to be self conscious about it with the headphones downing out every single sound. You abused his prostate, slamming into the bundle of nerves everytime you buried yourself inside him, just to drag across it as you pulled out. It really didn’t take long for Chan to be drooling and babbling as you fucked him dumb on your cock. “cl-close… please please please let me cum- c-can i cum p-please? fuck please!” Chan begged as his cock twitched painfully against his abs.

You moved one arm from his hip to wrap around his torso to keep him balanced on your shoulder and never slowing down your thrusts. Using your now free hand, you wrapped it around his throbbing cock as he leaked all over your hand. “yes yes yes yes fuck please g-gonna cum-“ Chan’s words began slurring together as you brought him to his high, your hand and his abs getting covered in his warm white ropes of release.

The way he clenched around you when he came had you hissing and groaning as you buried yourself to the hilt again, filling him up with your own release and painting his walls white. You rocked your hips through your climax before Letting Chan slump against you again. You two stayed like that for a moment just panting and catching your breath before you began removing the cuffs, then the blind fold, then the headphones. Chan was still floating through his post-nut bliss, this being the only time you’d be able to smoothly return his senses and not completely overwhelm him.

Chan’s eyes fluttered open again, fully cleaned and both of you wearing clean boxers and wrapped in the comfort of your bed. Chan was curled into your side with his head on your chest. The sound of your heartbeat and the gentle drag of your nails along his scalp being the things to bring him back to earth. The sound of you lazily singing to him allowing the transition to be as smooth as possible.

Noticing Chan stirring in your hold, you placed a soft kiss to the top of his head. “Welcome back my love~” you cooed. “Hi Jagi, thank you for taking care of me” Chan hummed in response. Bliss, love, safety. Those are the things you could make Chan feel so easily and only you were capable of it. Chan was so completely whipped and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

[rimaiahwrites]

more looks into the life of connie and his princess puh-leeze !!! that fic was so cute i’m obsessed

YESS I LOVE THEM SO HERE YALL GOO

(This soo late lol imma edit it tomorrow sorry about any mistakes) kinda short too but anywho

—

Connie’s good girl

The school year has been so rough for y/n, you have been more stressed than ever and was nearly burnt out. Connie knew this and was helping as much as he could but a lot of the time he was also busy with making drops and making ‘business’ plans with ony so when he was very pleased to see you running in the living room with a piece of paper in your hand waving it around with a big grin. “Pa look, look!” You said extremely excited. He grabbed the paper and realized it was your report card and it had only As and A pluses on it, no B or C in sight. He grinned before picking you up and spinning you around in his arms, “Good job princess, all AS!” He kissed your cheeks than your neck making you squeal and giggles since you were so ticklish. “I knew you could do it mama.” You smiled shyly, it always felt good to get so much praise from Connie, other then yourself he was the only person you ever truly wanted to make proud.

“You proud of me papa?” You grinned standing up on your tippy toes to kiss him on the lips. “Mhm very proud I think my princesa need some rewards.” You beamed with glee because that means Connie was going to get you whatever you wanted. You were already spoiled as it is but now that he had a real reason to spoil you today you knew it was going to be something special.

You went to get ready right away. You sported a mini flare skirt with a cute colorfully cropped top with spaghetti straps and pink kitten heels. Your hair was in a half up half down style with two ponytails. You were very cute to say the least.

“You look cute today mama, hope you got sum’ under this short ass skirt tho.” Connie said walking up to you running his hands to you ass to check. You rolled your eyes playfully, of course you did because you knew he didn’t play about any of that with his. “Yes I do now let’s gooo” you say pulling him to the front door. You connected your phone to his Bluetooth in his all black hellcat because of course You being the princess passenger you always got to play your music in the car unless you wanted to hear his. Connie speed out of his driveway like a damn crazy man you were truly surprised he hasn’t gotten into any car accidents with the way he drives, him being a speed racer makes it no better either.

Once you were in the mall it was like a kid in a candy store, you were pulling him to every store your eyes landed on, you got sneakers, heels, couple of bags, cute clothes makeup really anything your little heart desired and Connie was right there supporting you pulling his card out as soon as you stepped up to the cashier. It made your heart swell every time he did too, not just because he was spending his money on you but because he truly treated you like a little princess.

“Con which one?” You asked holding up two bags one dark pink and the other light pink. “I don’t know baby which ever one you want.” Connie mumbled kissing you on the cheek. You huffed and pouted “that’s why I asked you I don’t know what I want papa.” You rolled your eyes still looking at both of them not paying any attention to your surroundings clearly because the older white lady standing closely behind gasped and eyed you shocked at the pet name that you normally addressed Connie as. Connie snorted a chuckle looking the lady in the eye and pointed to the dark pink one. “That one you got a lot of clothes it will match with plus papa loves you in that color.” He said pulling you close and sliding his hand down to you ass gripping it a bit inwardly laughing at the white haired women awkwardly trying to avoid eye contact. You grinned and placed the other one down planting a big kiss on his shape jawline. “I think this is all I want pa let’s go home my feet hurt.” You cried playfully limping a bit.

Connie walked out the mall with Seven bags filled in his arms and you clinging on to him like a koala bear because your feet were hurting to bad from the heel and Connie of course spoiled you to no end and one little whine from you and next thing you knew you were being carried to the car.

“Thank you for all this I really appreciate it” You shyly admit, he was so fine that sometimes it intimidated you a little like his side profile, the neck tattoos going all the way down his arm and hand. He smiled back and leaned over to place a kiss on your soft lips. “You’re welcome mama, my pretty girl so polite let’s get home so I can give you your other presents.” He smirked as he bit and tugged on your bottom lip softly making you whine and clench your legs tightly.

-

Connie pulled his gaming chair to the mirror in his bedroom and pulled his shirt off, his tattoos on his chest now visible, you had just gotten out of the shower and you had nothing on but one of his big black t shirt. No Panties or bra. “C’mer.” You walked over to him with shaking legs knowing he was about to fuck you dumb. He pulled you on his lap and got started on your neck, kissing gently and pushing his hands under you makeshift nightgown and squeezed your boobs making you moan out a little bit. You bite your lip and watched him through the mirror. He was being so gentle with you like you were made of glass, you rubbed your legs together making your slick spend from your entrance to your clit. Connie quickly caught on and grinned against your neck. “be patient mama imma get to it.” You tried your best to slow your breathing but he was in your ear whispering and touching you. You were getting turned on very quickly. Connie ignored your needy moan and continued on with the teasingly foreplay before he pulled you against his chest and pulled your legs apart opening you up.

Your breath got caught in your throat when you saw your pink insides and Connie staring holes into mirror. “Look at this pretty pink pussy…so wet is that all for me?” You were quick on nodding your head. “I know.” He took his hand and rubbed his fingers up and down your slit slowly, killing you on the inside. He rubbed your clit for a beat before sliding his thick fingers in. Your pussy was already clenching onto him. “Ah-mm please go faster” you moaned. He nodded before he stroked his fingers deeper hitting your spot. Your eyes rolled shut and leaned your head back on his shoulder. “That feel good? Tell papa let me hear you.” You tried your best but only a pathetic whine was heard. That was good enough for him..for now. He pulled his fingers from you and placed them in his mouth sucking your cum off. “Why’d you stopp?” Your spoiled ass whine kicking your foot up a little. He chuckled and flipped your around so you were facing him. “Cuz I want you to cum on my dick not my fingers now stop whining.” He pulled his sweatpants down and his dick strung out, it’s tip was pink and wet with prenut.

“Come get up on it mama.” He pulled you up higher so you were above him and rubbed his tip up and down your slit before dipping in your sweet warm pussy. Your eyes widened from the shock it had only been a few days since he had given you dick but it was so big to you that you didn’t think you’ll ever get over the shook of his tip sliding in. “P-pa- ehhh” he looked up at you seeing the look of discomfort on your face. “I know it’s all the way in.” He said before slamming you down on it. “Oh fuck! Oh fuuuuckkk!” You moaned placing your hand on his shoulders trying to balance yourself but that was all thrown off because he started thrusting from up underneath you.

You gasped loudly grabbing his shoulders. “Waitt papa wait!” He smirked and thrusted harder, his dick hitting your g spot perfectly everyday. Your finger nails gripped into his strong tattooed arm.

“Yeahhh I’m getting in that pussy huhh mama” he said his voice raspy and deep, his tongue folded on his bottom lip. Your pussy was so tight and gripping his dick so good. You nodded your head already feeling out of it.

“Tell me how it feel baby…tell daddy.”

“Good, feel good daddyy.” You whine trying to sit up to ride him, you got up on your toes and laid your hands on his torso, he grinned big watching you “you gon ride like a big girl? Oh you acting outta character today princess.” You giggled but as soon as you sunk down you quickly remembered why you didn’t ride him often. “Go ahead you can do it baby.” You slowly but surely begin going quickly hitting deeper than before. Your knees knocked together when it started getting a little to deep and good.

“Gimme it! Gimme that daddy dick papa please I been a good girl promise!” You went on and on.

“Get it than mama you in control right now.” Connie said through small groans, you shook your head you wanted to keep going but all your strength was getting zapped. You fall onto his chest shaking like a leaf, his dick popping out. “Aw princess I thought you was gonna be a big girl and take it?” Connie chuckled smacking your ass making you jump a little.

“Papa I tried it’s just so hard and my legs aren’t that strong.” You pouted.

“That’s ok, that’s why I go to the gym.” He chuckled and picked you up by your legs and put his dick back in.

He Bounced you up and down, your loud wails were surely heard by the neighbors but Connie couldn’t give a fuck he was making his pretty girl feel good and that all that mattered to him…and you. You felt like you were in a whole different dimension you were hearing color and seeing sounds, your eyes felt like they were permanently crossed.

Connie loved your fucked out face, the drool and tears making you even prettier.

“M’ gonna nut daddy please don’t wanna make a mess on the floor waitt!” You sobbed, Connie ignored you and pounded harder because that’s exactly what he wanted.

“I know baby I know gimme that juice it’s okay daddy will clean it up.” He smiled gripping your face with one hand and the other holding you up, he placed a sweet kiss on your lips.

You whined against his lips and let it all out on his dick and floors. “There we gooo, mhmm.” He groaned rubbing his pink tip up and down your slit making your cum fling all over the both of you. You placed your face in his neck embarrassed hearing the loud splashing sounds. He smiled and waited to until your breathing evened out before setting you down on his bed. “You gonna suck daddy up?”

“Mhmm” You hummed giving him the prettiest smile before bringing his dick up to your lips.

���Daddies need to get spoiled too sometimes.”

[notaplaceofhonour]

I was raised in the People of Destiny cult (later renamed, and more well-known as, Sovereign Grace Ministries, now Sovereign Grace Churches).

The valorization of martyrdom and The End Times was so ubiquitous it was ambient noise. We stood in the church lobby theorizing about who the antichrist would be, we argued about whether Jesus would rapture us all before, after, or during the Tribulation Period where Satan would be given free reign over the earth. There was a strong Christian Zionist fixation on Israel as the final battleground and capital of the coming Messianic Age. But the one thing we were all certain of was is that we were in the End Times, that we were not of this world and couldn’t get too attached to our lives here.

We were raised to believe our sin nature made us undeserving of life, that we deserved death and eternal conscious torture.

My parents read us the Jesus Freaks books (a series by Christian Rap group DC Talk about martyrs). I spent “devotional time” reading Fox’s Book of Martyrs. We had guest speakers from Voice of the Martyrs, their pamphlets were often stocked in our church’s information center. We grew up with our dad listening to right wing talk radio and making us listen to songs about how the Godless atheists were outlawing Christianity in America, that we could all become martyrs soon.

The group’s theology was damaging & traumatic in a lot of other ways that contributed to the suicidality I have continued to struggle with for the rest of my life. For a long time I did not believe I would live past 20. There are times when the idea of giving my death meaning by using public suicide to make a political statement has appealed to me.

So now, seeing so many social media posts glorifying the suicide of a US Airman this week, I have been furious. Reading his social media posts, I recognize so much about the way I was raised in his all-or-nothing, black-or-white mindset, the valorization of death-seeking & martyrdom, and the apocalyptic fire-and-brimstone imagery of self-immolation. The moment I saw people I followed celebrating his self-immolation, I said to myself “this feels like a cult”

So when I learned he was raised in a cult too, nothing could have made more sense to me. His political orientation may have changed, but his mindset did not—it was no less extreme or cult-like.

I’ve talked about so many of the reasons this response from the broader left scares me, including how it’s laundering that airman’s antisemitic beliefs, but I cannot think of anything that would hit me in a more personal place than this specific response to this specific situation has.

When I see the images, I think: that could have been me. That scares me, and what scares me more is that so many prominent people are overwhelmingly sending the message to people like me that there is nothing else we can do that would have a more meaningful impact than killing ourselves for the cause.

I do not believe that. I will not even entertain it. And having to see his death over and over and over again, to argue against people who are treating this like an intellectual/moral exercise or a valid debate we all have to consider has been immensely triggering and fills me with a rage I rarely feel. It’s unconscionable that we are even putting self-harm on the table, and that pushing back against that is somehow controversial.

There is hope. Our lives do have meaning. There are far more effective means of fighting injustice. And the world is a better place for having you in it. Don’t fall into believing this is a way to give life purpose.

[funhouse-mirror-barbie]

Okay. I gotta talk about it.

Warning for major spoilers for season 2 of Hazbin Hotel and discussion of leaks—I will NOT be posting any links to the leaks or posting pics/screenshots from them here. Just going to be talking about a particular character.

Okay, last chance if you don’t want to know anything about the spoilers/leaks!!!

Im serious!!! Last warning!!!!!

Lute is now unironically the most compelling character in the entire fucking show and I am not kidding.

Whoever wrote the little bit of her character that’s been leaked did a really good job. She is incredibly interesting to me now because we get to see her when her entire way of life and ideology is challenged.

Lute is a very flawed and cruel person, but she has always been extremely sure of herself and that she is unambiguously CORRECT in her way of life. And now she’s being faced with the fact that she and everything she lived for is WRONG and they just CANT accept it. So much so that it appears that she’s now hallucinating Adam to cope.

Lute cannot accept redemption is possible and her viewpoint is SO black and white that it’s likely going to end up killing her or at the very least will drive her to madness. She would rather burn the whole world than accept change. There’s a tragic element as well that comes with every character that lives in the extremes—she fully believes she’s in the right. So much so that she can’t understand why EVERYONE else in Heaven seems to be horrified by the exterminations. She thinks she is doing the best thing for everyone, and is now resisting the reality that is front of her.

What would be really amazing, and what I’m hoping for is that Adam really did fall and became a “Demon” in Hell. Because then she would have to deal with the person she looks up to and admires the MOST becoming what she’s sworn to annihilate. I don’t know if she could handle that.

The question of whether or not she could reconcile Adam, someone she saw as being heavenly and perfect, could fall and become what she hates the most, a demon, is really interesting. She’d be forced again to question her ideals and beliefs about what is right and wrong. That is the sort of deep character exploration I had been hoping to see from season 1 of Hazbin and didn’t really get.

This small glimpse into her character reminds me of other characters that are so lawful or black and white that they can’t accept change or realities that conflict with their worldviews. Rorschach from Watchmen and Javert from Les Miserables come to mind.

It would be really cool to show her in direct contrast to V (not calling her that sexist ass name at least I can pretend “Lute” is named after the fucking instrument) and have Lute be the foil to V’s continuing character arc from season 1.

Please please please don’t let this characters complexity be reduced to “evil bad villain is bad and evil” for the rest of the story please please please. (Gotta say tho, given Hazbin and Helluva’a track record with writing women villains….and tbh just. Women in general. I am going to be VERY VERY cautiously optimistic)

(Also I don’t care if her song is cringe I think it fucking SLAPS)

[m0chisenpai]

Why So Blue

Pre Avatar Way of Water

Jake Sully x black!navi!reader x Neytiri

Part 2: Somethings Off

Pregnancy on Pandora was weird. Not that you had anything to compare it against to human pregnancy. But you could just feel how…unnatural it was. You didn't start showing until you’d reached around four months. And even at that point it didn’t feel like life was growing inside of you till you caught a glimpse of yourself by the waters. 

One thing that was different about the women of the Na’vi was that they did not allow their pregnancy to put an end to their work. You recalled how Neytiri continued to go on hunts and ride her ikran while pregnant with both Lo’ak and Netayem. 

So why couldn't you be like her? Your fingers thumbed at the songchord chord you'd made. One for each of your loved ones, the boys, and the one on top, a glassy rigid milk white stone you’d found to represent your passing through the eye of Eywa. You’ve yet to find one for the little one. 

Your eyes watched on as the hunters returned, but your eyes lingered on another expecting mother. How she effortlessly moved despite just being at the point of birth. How she clicked her tongue and yelped with her bow held high as the fellow warriors dragged in the freshly killed game. 

She was so much farther along than you, yet she moved so effortlessly. Why did you feel so small? So out of place? Your other hand cupped beneath your bump and smoothed over it. You felt so exposed. It felt shameful to have your bump on display. And Neytiri saw this when you first began showing.

That afternoon as Jake prepared to join the hunt he knelt before you and pressed a kiss to your bump, and your hands pressed into his shoulders gently. But you gave him a small smile to ease the worries that sat in his brow.

Neytiri loved to hold you from behind but lately you would move yourself into her side. It was embarrassing how her hands slid beneath your bump. Your hands would fold in front of you often as you walked among the clan, you opted to stay home during hunts now. “The boys need me, my loves go on without me.” That’s when Jake and Neytiri got concerned. 

Neytiri felt you drifting and it broke her heart. Because in her eyes you were breathtaking. When she looked upon you she looked as though you hung the very stars above. 

And Jake tried explaining to her the culture of human pregnancies. How women didn’t leave. Pregnancy in a way was extremely private on Earth. It broke her heart to hear how this gift of life was watered down to humans, but it came as no surprise.

And as Neytiri sat behind you, her gentle hands sliding new beads into your braids, she spoke up with love dripping from her lips. “I thought when I first saw you, unlike the skxawng you would see. But now I see much more.” her hand reached over your shoulder to press against your chest, “Eywa shines upon you. Beauty shines in you so purely. You will be a strong mother, just as you are a strong mate, My Y/N.”

And you held her hand pressing a gentle kiss to it as she returned to braiding. “Do you think I’ll be as good as you?”

“No, you will be even better. You will be you.“ And you cursed your hormones for the tears that trailed down your cheeks as she wrapped her arms around you and pressed kiss after kiss to your forehead.

[luveline]

hi hii jade! i hope to not bother u at all but can i ask a request for miguel being with harley quinnfem!reader? like she’s sweet, giddy and a bit girlish but at the same time vicious and extremely violent. maybe miggy likes it a bit too much being with her but gets annoyed seeing her tiny outfit during the mission. u don’t have to do it if u don’t wanna! thank you !!🤍

thank you for your request, i love it!! I'd love to write more for this pairing ♥

—harley quinn-esque fem!reader reports for duty wearing less material than usual, to miguel's misfortune. 1k

"And what," Miguel says, looking you up and down apprehensively, "is the point of that." 

It should be a question, but it doesn't sound like one. He is genuinely shocked by what you're wearing, among other things, and it takes a lot to shock him. Your top half is decent in sense of the word, a skin tight black t-shirt with a pink spider taking perch on your sternum, legs curved over and under the shape of your breasts. Your skort (and it better be a skort, or Miguel is in trouble) is high-waisted and matching in black. A slice of your midriff exposes itself when you move. 

"You don't like it?" you ask, putting on a pout that shouldn't suit you but absolutely does. 

"It doesn't do anything." 

"Well, I figure there's no need to conceal my identity when we're visiting other dimensions," you explain. 

Miguel thinks the thing that irks him most about you is that your sweetness —made up of pretty smiles and girlish whims— is authentic. You tease and twirl, you're prone to dramatics and theatrics alike, but you genuinely are a very loving girl. Especially toward him. 

"It doesn't conceal much of anything." 

"Are you trying to say something mean?" you ask. 

"Depends on your definition." 

"Could you say it in Spanish?" you ask.

"Why?" He crosses his arms across his chest, looking down his nose at you in a look he hopes says you aren't half as subtle as you think. 

"Please, Miguel." You frame your face in two hands, long, naked lengths of your arms shining with a shimmery lotion in the laboratory lighting. "Indulge me." 

Don't I always? he thinks. "Depende de cual sea tu definición," he says. "Tu atuendo es más cruel que cualquier cosa que pueda decir." Your outfit is crueller than anything I can say.

"I hear 'cruel,'" you say, "but surely you can't be talking about me?" 

"The portal's ready," Margo says, a purple image in the corner of his eye. 

"Thank you, Spider-Byte," he says, nudging you toward the platform. For the work and the end of a dangerous conversation.

You rush up onto it and Miguel follows, ignoring the spin you make with your face turned up, watching as the portal begins to form around you, orange fractals that lock you in. 

You project from one place to the other. It's best to take a running start, and there's yards to be traversed until you meet the rendezvous point. 

"Where's the Vulture?" you ask excitedly.

"Around. Watch out, he might have Tinkerer with him." 

"Two for the price of one!" 

You stretch your arms up high, exposing your stomach, fine hair shimmering in the sunshine. Miguel's annoyed because he's weak enough to be distracted, but he'd rather blame you. 

"The point of your suit was to keep you safe," he says. "I designed it to protect you." 

"I like my skirt much more," you say, spinning again. 

So does Miguel. He looks up into the sky with a scowl, confused as to where the Vulture and his henchmen are. They're supposed to be right here, which can only mean— 

You leap for Miguel with your baton extended, the little heart sceptre piece atop of it striking the Vulture square in the jaw as the villain descends. With a spatter of blood, a shining white tooth flies across the open air, and you love it. You shake with excitement, his hands against your ribs to stop you from falling. 

"Yes!" you cry, jumping out of his arms and whacking the Vulture again. You're lucky: you manage to hit him in the eye as he retreats, prompting an outraged and pained scream that shakes the trees surrounding. "You suck!" You batter him like he's a pear under your pestle. 

"Y/N, that is more than enough," Miguel chastises, though the sight of you satisfied and in control is one that twists his guts. 

"Box him in, Miguel!" you call, blood dripping down the sceptre and onto your bare hands. 

"Woah." A third voice echoes as feet touch down to the ground, the wet thwap of webbing like an anchor, the Tinkerer deposited at Miguel's feet. "Who the hell are you guys?" asks Spider-Man.

"It's hard to explain," you say. 

"It's not," Miguel says. 

"Is she… on our side?" Spider-Man asks, eyes of his suit widening with a mechanical clicking. 

"When she wants to be." 

"I'm definitely on Miguel's side!" you say, raising your baton to give the downed Vulture another whack. He groans and raises his hands. You giggle at the fear on his face and twirl your baton around in a circle above your head. "Just kidding." 

"Y/N, come here. Now." He wouldn't be so forward in his command if you weren't as prone to ignoring him as you are. 

You traipse to his side, putting your hands on your hips to mimic him. 

"That was quick, huh?" you ask, looking up into his face. No matter your act, he can see the want for approval in your eyes. 

"Eres muy linda," he says. You're very cute. 

"What does that mean?" you ask, eager for praise. 

"You did great," he says. 

"I think you're lying," you say, and his heart skips as you lean into his space with a knowing smile, "'muy' means I did really great, right?" 

"Actually–" Spider-Man begins. 

Miguel waves a hand at him. "You did really great," he confirms. He doesn't need Spider-Man telling on him.

"And I didn't need all that extra protection after all," you say, sliding under his arm. 

Miguel doesn't react. The Vulture groans and Spider-Man hits him with a web to make sure he doesn't get far. 

"You like it really," you whisper.

Miguel glares at you. Of course he likes it. He just hates how much danger you're potentially putting yourself in. He double hates the appreciative up and down Spider-Man gives you when he thinks no one's looking.

"You have blood in your hair," Miguel says. 

"You can wash it out for me." 

He takes a calming breath. 

"Hey, guys? Do you mind explaining what the hell is going on here?" Spider-Man asks. 

You both ignore him for different reasons, you with an adoring smile sent Miguel's way, and Miguel with a long-suffering sigh as he summons a temporary entrapment for the bloodied Vulture and his squirming lacky.  

[middle-earth-mythopoeia]

No, Amazon’s Rings of Power is not “woke”

It annoys me so much when people complain about Rings of Power being “woke.” First of all, because of the way they overuse the word, woke has become a next-to-meaningless term that can be applied to anything conservatives don’t like. Second, Rings of Power is only progressive in the most surface-level way; underneath that it is in fact extremely regressive. People who whine about Rings of Power being woke are not only annoying, they’re also just plain wrong.

Ever since the casting was announced, right-wing idiots have been shrieking about Black actors being cast in Rings of Power. These trolls have made all kinds of dumb statements about how Middle-earth = Europe, but they seem willfully ignorant of the fact that Europe has never been exclusively white, and there is no reason to exclude people of color from the cast of any Tolkien adaptation. Still, this didn’t make the show progressive in its casting (which was tokenistic) or its writing (which ranges from bad to horrible).

For instance, the only storyline Amazon writers could apparently think of to introduce Arondir was literally him being enslaved. I mean, really? Is that really the best plotline to go with? To be clear, I’m not criticizing the actor, I’m criticizing the writing. In addition, Amazon cast actors of color overwhelmingly in parts invented for the show—rather than as actual Tolkien characters—which more easily allows them to be sidelined by the narrative, and the casting overall was in no way diverse enough. So I find it bizarre that people criticize the show for its so-called wokeness, when very little effort was made from a diversity and inclusion standpoint.

Right-wing nutjobs also threw a fit about Amazon portraying Galadriel as a warrior, to the point where they started calling her “Guyladriel.” They whined about Galadriel being too feminist and too masculine in the show, but that’s the opposite of what happened and betrays a fundamental misunderstanding of Galadriel as a character. First of all, she fought at Alqualondë in one version of the story, so no one should have a problem with her wielding a sword. What IS a problem is everything else about her portrayal.

Amazon’s writers took one of Tolkien’s most interesting characters and stripped her of her power, her authority, her gravitas, her wisdom, and her ambition. They had Gil-galad, her younger cousin, order her around. They had Elendil compare her to his children, even though she’s older than the sun and moon. And they made her a petty, naïve, incompetent brat whose entire first season involves being manipulated by Sauron, and as if that wasn’t bad enough, having a bizarre will-they-won’t-they relationship with him. In addition, Galadriel is canonically tall and strong, and one of her names means “man-maiden,” but they made her short and waif-like instead.

Galadriel in Amazon’s show doesn’t even resemble the character Tolkien wrote—the character named Nerwen, who never trusted Annatar, who certainly never had some creepy Reylo thing with him, who was powerful and wise and authoritative, who had a marvelous gift of insight into the minds of others—not a quippy, rude, annoying idiot who is constantly being controlled by the men around her. I don’t know why anyone would look at Rings of Power and think this portrayal is progressive. It’s actually a failure of imagination: Amazon’s writers literally cannot conceive of a powerful woman even when all of the work of imagining her has been done for them.

In addition to the faux-feminist-and-actually-sexist portrayal of Galadriel, Rings of Power is also on the whole weirdly regressive from the standpoint of gender roles and gender expression. Tolkien’s Elves are canonically tall, beautiful, and long-haired, regardless of gender. Tolkien’s Dwarves all have beards. So what did Amazon do? They gave most of their male Elves short hair, while the female Elves still have long hair, and they did away with female Dwarves’ beards. They patted themselves on the back for “letting” Galadriel fight, but don’t show other female warriors—in battle scenes, for instance, why are all the soldiers male? In general, they made their characters adhere to conservative gender roles and gender expression, which is especially glaring because it contradicts what Tolkien actually wrote.

On top of all this, they decided to throw in some anti-Irish stereotypes with a side of classism, just for fun. They had the ragged, dirty, primitive Harfoots speaking in Irish accents, while the regal, ethereal, advanced Elves speak with English accents. None of the actors playing the Harfoots are Irish themselves, to my knowledge, which makes the choice to have them speak this way especially questionable. Seriously, who thought this was a good idea?

All in all, it makes absolutely no fucking sense to criticize Rings of Power for being woke. It may look progressive on the surface because there’s a Black Elf and a woman with a sword, but that’s as far as it goes. The show isn’t particularly diverse to begin with, and it treats its characters of color poorly. Galadriel’s portrayal is disgustingly regressive, as is the show’s overarching take on gender. This is to say nothing of the caliber of the writing in general, which is unsurprisingly low. There is so much to criticize—like the nonsense about mithril, or the fact that Celebrimbor of all people doesn’t understand alloys, or the fact that you can apparently swim across the Sundering Seas now—which makes complaining about the show’s supposed wokeness especially irrational.

I also have to wonder if the people still whining about wokeness know anything about Tolkien’s works. Do they know that the crown of Gondor was based on the crown of the Pharaohs of Egypt? Do they know that Tolkien considered Byzantium the basis for Minas Tirith? Do they know that female warriors already exist in Tolkien’s books? Do they know when they rant about how much they hate “Guyladriel” that Amazon’s portrayal is actually too feminine? Ultimately, people who complain about wokeness in Rings of Power—or any Tolkien adaptation—are just betraying their own idiocy. I honestly think if Tolkien’s books were published now conservatives would scream that they’re woke too.

[chaotic-starlight24]

Ponyboy Curtis General Headcanons

Alrighty! Glad so many of you like the Dallas headcanons! Darry is next after Ponyboy then I will probably do another vote :)

Warnings: Spoilers for the book

I did literal scientific research just to figure out some of this stuff :,) I didn't have to but I still did

He is always thinking of the worst case scenario. Not always, but if he’s left alone long enough he’s decided that Darry got hit with a meteor and Soda probably drowned in motor oil. 

He was really gullible as a young kid, like one time Dally convinced him that he (Dally) was a vampire. But then he debunks what he learns pretty quickly. “I’ve never seen you drink blood, you don’t really have “fangs”, and you really like garlic bread!” “OK kid, ya got me.”

For being so young, he hurts his neck and back a lot. He sleeps a little weird, BAM neck pain! He sits upside down, POW his back aches. He sleeps in a soldier position and doesn’t move unless Soda moves him. He also always needs support for his back, usually sitting with his back to the wall or laying down. (Same though)

As we know, this little man smokes a lot more than just about everyone in the gang combined. Which is already extremely worrying on its own, but also really surprising that he manages to be a good track runner. I might ask some of my track runner friends later for info on how they breathe when running. But let’s just say he really enjoys running but also manages to end up wheezing at the end of every practice. He has to take like a 30 minute break after practice just to breathe normally. The coach just assumes he has asthma and probably hints that he needs to get checked out. 

To add a little more to the whole track runner thing, he doesn’t say track AND FIELD. Which means he is doing the track portion and therefore a whole lot of running. I’m still researching the science behind it on what type of running he could manage though. Long distance takes shorter breaths through your nose and enhances your stamina. Sprinters run for shorter amounts of time and need deeper breathing at a quick pace. So he would most likely be a long distance runner. *EDIT* I checked with my track runner friends, I'm correct he would be a long distance runner

Ponyboy is (most likely) left-handed in the movie. And I’m going to take that and run with it. Most items with handles are made for right-handed people. So I feel like Darry or Soda have several times heard a BANG and a small ow afterwards, walked into the kitchen and Pony has once again hit himself in the head with the fridge door. Scissors are also hard to use for him. He never liked arts and crafts.

He had imaginary friends as a kid. An entire cast of them to be exact. A part of him wanted more friends that weren’t just his brothers’ friends. He wanted to be less of a little brother and more of an equal if you know what I mean. He still has those feelings nowadays but he is more thankful for the gang.

He does have some friends at school but he’s more of the “third friend” than anything. So he spends a lot of time at school doing work, reading, or staring into space. The track guys and him are good company to each other but don’t really hang out at any other times. But Pony appreciates them nonetheless.

He writes a lot of notes in the most random places. Like random ideas he gets he just grabs a piece of napkin and scribbles it down. But then it gets left behind and taken out of context. Like Darry once found a piece of paper on a kitchen chair that just said “The ceiling tile shatters and hits him.” 

He has a really contagious smile. Like he starts grinning the rest of the gang can't help but start smiling too.

After Johnny and Dally’s death, he started to see people in more of a gray scale instead of just black and white. He realized there is more to a person than meets the eye. He can still be a little hater but he is a bit nicer about people. 

Him and Cherry started running into each other every so often and will ramble about the most random things, then just walk away like they didn’t just say some analogy between books and people.

He would eventually become a writer of books and own a library. He ends up offering free reading and writing classes for the kids like Dally and Johnny who never had/have the chance to finish school. He calls it “The C&W Program '' saying it stands for Creation and Wisdom program if you ask but the real name is Cade&Winston.

He still goes swimming even after the incident but he doesn’t ever go underwater. 

His favorite books that he constantly rereads are Great Expectations, To Kill a Mockingbird, The Pickwick Papers. But he also just likes most books.

(The girl he mentions at the beginning that called him a hood) I feel like she was a middle class teen similar in age to Pony named Esther. She hangs out with the soc girls more. She actually felt bad about calling him a hood since it just kind of rolled out of her mouth and apologized later on. It greatly surprised Pony and they ended up becoming really good friends. (Possibly starting a relationship later but that is up to you)

He never stops smoking all the way but after a wake-up call from the gang he starts smoking a lot less.

He learned how to read before he even started school. He just loved it and all of the worlds that are created through writing. The funny thing is, no one can figure out who taught him in the first place! Mr. and Mrs. Curtis just guessed he got a hold of some of Darry’s books or something. But Soda was actually the one to teach him. Soda is not in any way an extremely good student. But he is good at explaining things. So a really young Pony saw him reading the comics and asked how he knew what it was saying. Soda taught him the basic words in the comics and Pony went off and grabbed one of the novels from the family’s shelves. He then proceeded to teach himself how to sound each word out and then ask Soda what it meant. Soda was really happy when Pony got a hang of it very quickly. After a couple years, Darry noticed some notes in his books and took a close look at what it was saying. They were annotations IN CURSIVE. He didn’t write them, Soda never picks up bigger books, and their parents have their own books. Eventually Darry caught Pony doing it and was like “WHAT THE HECK??? YOU’RE A LITERAL 3RD GRADER???” 

One time he had to do a presentation in 5th grade about the life of a famous person important to them. People got extra credit if they dressed up like their person and he was extremely embarrassed because he was the only one to do so. He dressed up as Paul Newman. (This legit happened to me though, it was so cringey)

He has naturally wavy hair but he uses so much grease it looks stick straight. It’s also so greased that his hair is actually shiny.

Him and Steve start getting closer post canon as Pony gets older. Mainly because Steve sees him less as an annoyance and the gang is overall a lot closer together. 

If Johnny had survived ( I have a whole explanation that I will share later) Pony would help him out all the time. Johnny may be wheel-chair bound but Pony includes him in whatever he can. He is always there for Johnny since Johnny ends up with so many problems. (Johnny would probably be adopted by a couple who lost their child and have the dedication to take care of him) With spinal cord injuries usually comes respiratory issues, pressure sores, etc. He would help Johnny through the 5 stages of grief (many people who lose limbs or lose an ability do this) and help him set up a routine on how to get through everyday things.

He ends up being a middle ground between Sodapop and Darry when he grows up. Like height and build wise.

[phxntomhives]

P4 headcanons

Because I just realized this is my blog and I can do it lol.

Edgar Redmond

He learned how to dance when he was little and always loved it.

His favourite author is Jane Austin but won't admit it to anyone.

Puts a lot of effort into becoming a better person but tries to hide it because it should be something "effortless".

Flirt with women but will panick if they flirt back and he would run away.

Hasn't slept for a while after Maurice's "accident" wondering how he could not see the truth .

Lawrence Bluewer

Has tried to read all the books of Weston as a personal challange

Secretely likes coffee.

His sisters dressed him up more than once as a girl.

He has, unwillingly, learned how to put on make-up, and he is good at it.

He wouldn't have minded to become a professor, and Professor Michaelis was his role model for a while.

Herman Greenhill

Loves dogs. Has many of them at home.

The cricket bat he carries is a present from someone he cares about and that's why he always bring it with him.

Adores sweet but has to pretend he doesn't.

His favourite sport is horse riding.

If something is too difficult to understand at school he goes to discuss it with Lawrence and pretends that he just want to exchange their opinions on the topic Lawrence knows and just helps him without pointing it out.

Gregory Violet

He makes his own lip-stick. It took a lot of effort to reach that color and he is proud of it.

Sometimes he looks at the other three and wishes he was taller.

His hair were longer but he was forced to cut them.

His hair are actually white, but he prefers black so he dyes them. He leaves the white strand because it looks cool.

Needs glasses but refuses to wear them.

Slight angst version + Ship discourse + Spoilers of future arcs hidden so you don't have to see them unless you want to

Edgar Redmond

It needs him a while to fall asleep because he keeps thinking of the last Midnight Party and his expulsion from the school.

After Maurice's accident he had a breakdown in his room and broke some stuff while crying, thinking how he could make the same mistake twice.

He was the most excited about the Starlight 4 project and couldn't wait to get on stage.

He couldn't drink tea for months after the midnight party without throwing up.

Lawrence Bluewer

Didn't sleep for a week after the expulsion and ended up collapsing in Edgar's house.

Herman Greenhill

He was depressed after the midnight tea party and thought of killing himself to atone for his sins. Gregory noticed and slapped him before hugging him.

After the creation of the S4, if bad memories/thoughts get to him, he start training one of the song.

Gregory Violet

Wanted to run away from Blavat the moment he noticed O!CIel.

All P4 (poly because I can't separate them)

They accidentally all fell for each other and tried to keep it a secret, it soon failed as everyone was getting jealous of everyone.

It was awkward at first, no one knew how to act.

The Edgar and Gregory accidentally teamed up to act like everything was normal and they slowly found balance.

Edgar thinks it's his duty to maintain them together and happy

If Gregory scrap a drawing, the others just sneakily take it back and keep it safe somewhere else.

Any drawing Gregory made of the other is also extremely well preserved by that person. And the other three friendly argue on who has the most drawings/who has the prettiest ones.

Edgar cuddles anyone. Doesn't matter where or when, if he wants to cuddle he will find someone. His favourite victim for this is Herman because he gets flustered the most.

Lawerence's sister are always casually the companions for everyone is there MUST be a female companion at an official event. (They want to tease their brother)

Herman refuses the others to lift anything.

Lawrence started to read out loud when he noticed that the others fell asleep faster if he was talking.

Herman is the first to wake up and force himself to be as quiet as possible to not wake the others up.

They wait untile veryone is present to start eating.

Lawrence is the most possessive of the four.

Do I have more? Yes, but for now just take my small offering.

[things-arent-what-they-seem66]

(For comic inspired AU... I think I'll call it "Mysterious dreams". Also... I'll be separating it in parts, okay? Just so it doesn't... get too long)

(And sorry first post is that long-. This was needed to set this all)

Part 1. The beginning.

For everyone around him, Adam never stood out. He was a normal guy, really. He worked as a lawyer (surprisingly enjoying his work), played in band with some people, he knew since high school, sometimes got out to some extreme activities on his free time, went to local garden to help out during warmer time. He was more of a loner, not many real friends, but it was okay.

He always seemed just another face in the crowd. But it was all he wanted to be really.

Nearing 30, he had everything he wished to have in his life. He had standard routine, but he never complained. If anything... it gave him feeling of control of his life. And it was enough for him.

This evening was just like any other. Adam was at his home, sitting with some documents for upcoming case at work, while his favorite show was playing on background. Rounding up at 11 PM, the man was already in bed, ready for good night's rest like always...But little did he know this day was going to change his life forever...

Deep into the night, Adam started to hear a weird music play in his room... it almost sounded like... a lullaby?

Kids' music? In my room? He thought to himself, slowly opening his eyes to see... he wasn't in his room anymore.

Adam : What..?

Now, it was a room with many beds. Walls were colored in pastel yellow, while floor had colorful puzzle patterns. On one of the walls, he could see a big blue circle with two white birds with long rainbow tails. The wording over it said "Songbirds daycare".

Was it the name of where he was? But... why was he at a DAYCARE of all places? He wasn't a child for instance! It didn't make any sense!

Adam : The hell..?

Then he noticed something. He put his hand on his mouth for a second, before slowly moving it away from it.

Adam : The hell is with my voice..?!

It was now higher... too high for his normal voice. It sounded like... a toddler's voice... at oldest. He looked down in fear on his hands. Also too small for normal. Too soft and pudgy than what they normally were.

Adam got out of bed, he was sitting in, before looking around. Across the room, he saw a mirror, before running to it to inspect himself...

But there wasn't him that was looking at him in reflection... but rather... a little toddler boy, if he was to guess, he'd give that boy 2 and half years of age. 3 at oldest. And yet... he recognized his own yellow, nearly golden eyes and brown hair. And yet, he now was a small child, wearing simple black shirt and white shorts.

Adam : ...the fuck is happening..?

? : Ah, there you are!

Adam gasped slightly, before turning around to see... a man. A normal man, but... compared to himself, he was a giant. Nothing, other than his height, was abnormal about him, but Adam took a notice of his shirt. Same image of birds and "Songbirds daycare" sign. Was it the place's work uniform? Was this man one of workers?

Daycare worker (Oliver) : Oh, what we have here? Did you wake up from your nap, Adam?

Now that was getting freaky... how did he know his name!?

Adam : Um... I...

The man just chuckled, kneeling down to pick up the (physically) small boy, much to Adam's surprise.

Adam : Hey! What are you doing?! Put me down!

Oliver : Oops, somebody woke up grumpy, isn't he? Ah, don't worry, kiddo, let's just get your spare outfit and you can go back to play! How does it sound?

Adam : What?! NO! Let me go! The fuck is going on in here?! Why am I so small?! Who are you?! How are yo-?!

But while Adam was having his panic attack, Oliver had time to get a bottle and place it in his mouth. And, what seemed to be instinct, Adam started to suck on the bottle and drinking the liquid inside of it.

Oliver : There we go... you were also hungry, aren't you? Yep, that's right... don't worry, little man, there's nothing some warm milk won't fix...

Adam, thinks : The hell is wrong with me?! Why can't I stop?! Well... it's not half bad, I guess..? But still... Why is he... talking to me like this? He sure can hear me... does... he not understand me..?

This all was weird...

(And he doesn't. None of adults within dreams can)

@adambrainrot

((Oh so this is Adams dream? Is he waking up in a dream in another life as a toddler and when he wakes up for real he's back to normal? That's so cool!!))

Oliver removed the bottle when Adam drained it, he moved him to his shoulder and gently rubbed and patted his back until Adam gave a small burp.

Oliver: There we go! All fed and ready to play. All your little friends are awake and ready to play with you again.

Adam: What friends?

Oliver took Adam out of the nap room and placed him in a playing area. There were at least 10-15 other toddlers around the same age Adam was being portrayed as right now.

Adam: What fresh Hell is this?

[demonslayedher]

Just thinking about how Chachamaru is a male calico, at least according the Taisho Secret right before chapter 195 that calls him manly. It really doesn't surprise me that he's male, because so many references to calicos I've seen in manga, mascots, and temple architecture specify that the featured calico is male.

This is because they are rare, and therefore considered lucky.

The figure that gets thrown around the internet is that supposedly only 1 in every 3000 calicos is male. (I'll bet the people who did the often quoted study at U. of Minn. College of Vet Med would love to tell you how it's more complicated than that.) This has long made male calicos popular not only in Japan, but in other countries as well. The thing is, though, the male calico might not always be so lucky.

To be very brief about why calicos (and some other multicolored cats) are almost always female, this is because, put very simply, one X chromosome gives us the black splotches, and one X chromosome gives us the orange splotches. That might leave you wondering where the white patches come from, and this is the part where I say that genetics is never simple and you should have fun reading about it. The important takeaway here is that in order to show this color pattern, a cat needs two X chromosomes, one from its mother and one from its father.

Typically, a male cat has an X chromosome (from its female mother, who only has two X chromosomes) and a Y chromosome (from its father, who had both an X and a Y), but because the calico coating can only occur with two X chromosomes, this male cat somehow got an X, a Y, and... hmm, another X somewhere.

So not a typical XY male, not a typical XX calico... this sterile XXY male calico has an extra chromosome, and mutations often are not ideal for the health of the animal with the extra chromosome. This particular condition is Klinefelter’s Syndrome, which can lead to a male calico having cognitive and behavior issues, weaker bones, increased risk of diabetes due to higher body fat, and perhaps a shorter lifespan.

Now, none of the fictitious lucky cats I've seen have ever been portrayed as anything less than smart and pleasant, though a lot of the maneki-neko are pretty round. For everything Chachamaru is tasked with, I have to assume he's above-average when it comes to intelligence, reasonably healthy enough to handle long-distance travel, and for a cat, he's extremely, extremely cooperative. For the record, the same Taisho Secret (as well as Yushiro's statement in Chapter 194) makes it clear that for most of canon Chachamaru was a regular cat, for he was not made into a demon until right before the final showdown with Muzan. Even with her hands full making the medicine for Muzan, she still put a lot of effort into changing Chachamaru so that Yushiro wouldn't be lonely. It's ironic that Chachamaru winds up immortal, rather than doomed to a potentially shorter lifespan due to his mark...ings. In the first place, was Tamayo perhaps moved with pity for a sickly kitten and nursed him to the health he's in now?

Or did she always keep her eye out for a male calico, wanting to put some faith in them being good luck?

Also, what sticks out to me in this Taisho Secret is that Chachamaru, not having a language in which he could communicate with Tamayo, had no choice in becoming a demon. Tamayo felt sorry about that. The word bubble over manly little Chachamaru says, with bravado, "Fine by me, if that's what the woman I'm smitten with wishes." If Chachamaru truly is that smitten with her, that perhaps accounts for what an unusually cooperative cat he is. But it also reminds me of a fan theory that I saw once (and found worthy of weight) which said that perhaps Tamayo's blood technique has an effect like makes others smitten with her, and Yushiro might had been under its influence, however strongly or subtly. If such a thing were the case, it might or might not had been something Tamayo was conscious of. If she was conscious of having some effect like that, she probably felt awful about it but found it a necessary precaution to keep any demon she made under control. If she wasn't conscious of such a thing, that means she might had subconsciously developed it out of loneliness, and had been trying to keep company at her side.