#and that sometimes you have no choice but to worry about what people think of you

[chocoqtelle]

inner child pac reading

🦀 pile one,,

I know we're used to being super helpful, but it's good to help yourself too. you should always make sure you're okay first. It's important for us to be okay, even if other people don't think so. we should think so. things are gonna be okay for us. they always are. I want to do the things we like. I don't understand why you care about what people think now. I think we should try doing what we like more, even if it's embarrassing. it doesn't have to take a lot of time. it's just good to have fun sometimes. maybe you can get back into some of our old interests if you want?

it seems like this pile had to mature quickly and was overly generous in childhood. this likely led to some people pleaser habits. when the world said "be nice" and "care about others" you took it to heart, but it felt like you were the only one who did. you felt like you had to be the adult in your childhood and care for other people around you. for some of you, you may have had to care for a parental/older familiar figure or your siblings. you're used to changing your words and your personality to be more digestible and gentle because this strong fear of conflict. you were scared of people being mean to you, so you avoided making anyone mad. it was like you were always tiptoeing over eggshells. now, you don't have to, so there's no point in worrying about people who don't worry about you. you'd be doing yourself and your inner child a favor by doing what you want. it might feel wrong to be yourself, but at least try. I won't delve too much into this part, but I believe some people in this pile also dealt with being oversexualized or being hyper sexual at a young age. I think it's important to know you're more than what you can give others for this pile. please also take a break for the love of god.

🐸 pile two,,

It's hard to feel loved if nobody shows you. at the same time, i don't think I'd want to be loved. it seems weird and uncomfortable. I'm not used to it so it's scary. I still wish that someone would care at least. it feels like nobody else cares. I'm really tired of things being silent and boring all the time. I want to do something fun. I want friends but I want to be by myself. people think I'm weird, but I think they're the weird ones. they can avoid me but I wouldn't wanna be friends with them anyway. it doesn't matter if it's lonely, I don't feel less lonely around people anyway. some people think I'm mean. I don't think I'm mean. i heard I look mean or I act mean sometimes, but what if that's just who I am? I don't try to be mean to people. I just don't want people to hurt me.

holy neglect trauma... there's a lot to unpack here 😓 first off, I hope you're alright. it seems like this pile never really learned how to interact with people and is probably still a bit of a people hater. this pile has had to keep strong boundaries and walls on to protect themselves from unfamiliar experiences (being spoken to positively.) if you've never experienced something, it can be scary but you have to stop thinking every little thing is gonna go wrong in your life. it's fine. separate note but I think someone's ancestors are very present here, might want to connect with them if you don't already. you can try to shut down the feelings of loneliness and pretend connection won't help but it does. you're probably not connected with your inner child or you're ashamed of yourself for some reason. trying to be cold won't undo anything or save you from the feelings you're hiding. you'll have to acknowledge them at some point. escapism and forcing ignorance wont help forever. hopefully it'll be sooner than later, but that's your choice. it's okay to be soft, btw.

🐕 pile three,,

I know what I'm talking about. I'm serious. I wish people would take me more seriously. i get good grades, I study hard, I always prove how smart I am. for some reason, people still act like I'm too young and stupid to have opinions or that what I say is just silly, especially with emotions. they act like having emotions makes you a less rational person. some people look down on me for who I am, too. it's not something I can change. whether it's gender, age, or whatever, people always want an excuse to ignore how I feel or what I have to say. I know I'm right though. I don't want us to stop expressing ourselves. I wanna share how I feel to the world.

this pile is extremely opinionated and knows how to share their emotions. this pile is for the "bossy" kids who "should have been lawyers" or "a CEO" according to every adult around them. you were emotional as a child and it was always ignored or joked off as if your feelings were invalid. this pile is definitely natural-born leaders so if you aren't/never have been aspiration-driven or "extra" this pile probably isn't yours. the most healing thing you can do for yourself at this point is speak up. continue to speak about everything. share your opinion more, it's safe now and people will actually take you seriously. be emotional, be too much, be annoying, be talkative, be over-opinionated, be everything you feel like being and don't let anyone talk you out of it. lead your life how you want to. call everything out, even if it means being weird. I definitely feel like some people in this pile had the gifted kid experience or liked to read a lot when they were younger. there's also some unresolved anger that might need to be taken care of. I think speaking up more instead of bottling feelings up will definitely help that, though. you're not stupid or weak for being emotional. just be yourself unapologetically and that's the best thing you can do for your younger self.

[glassladyoftheopera]

In Stars and Time But It's a Musical (Part 1)

Okay hi I need to tell you all about this concept.

First off all I just need to say credit to @openphrase123 for the amazing 'ISAT but as a ballet' posts (here and also here and there definitely more but those are some of the big ones) which definitely inspired some choices here and in general inspired me to do this.

So basically I'm a big old musical theater person (and specifically musician / singer) so I've been fleshing out concepts for a what a musical re-telling of In Stars and Time might look like. I'm honestly not going to get into like... the logistics of how you could actually do it, because even with condensing a lot of things Musicals aren't typically long enough to tell this kind of story, so we're just... ignoring that when I don't have ideas to get around it.

We will start with all of the main characters, their voice types, and their characteristic musical styles!

Mirabelle Mira is our soprano, but mostly her singing and music is very much in the style of Disney Renaissance musicals. Think Belle, Ariel, Hercules, etc. I think it fits her up beat but still sometimes anxious personality. Near the end of each King Fight she gets a cool high notes as she finally has some true confidence in herself!

Bonnie Bonnie would be played by a younger performer with an unchanged voice. This wouldn't really be a dance heavy show, but when there is dancing they would take the lead b/c that's cute. In terms of their singing though it's mostly inspired by classic kid characters from Broadway, namely Annie, The Artful Dodger, and Matilda (especially for their more emotionally intense moments). Their music isn't as difficult, and in group numbers they typically sing the melody with at least one other person.

Odile Odile is the alto of the quintet. It helps her sound more mature than Mirabelle and fits her vibe of not taking on the flashy role. Her music leans a bit more classical, almost Gilbert and Sullivan-esque in her more playful moments. Overall though it tends to be a bit more melodically challenging, but not super fast or syncopated. There would be melodic and instrumental flourishes in her music unique to her that are basically 'Ka Buan' musical elements.

Isabeau Leading man baritone! His style also fairly standard musical theater, but leans a touch more modern in it's styling to accommodate his more emotionally open vibe. He'll have the pop-inspired rhythms and chord progressions, but in group numbers he's the rock solid bass part holding everything together.

Siffrin Siffrin... does not sing almost ever for the first chunk of the show outside of group numbers. He's a tenor, and helps fill out the harmonies, but the impression the audience should get at the start is that they aren't really a soloist. As the loops go on, they gain a bit more confidence, taking bits and pieces of all of the other character's musical / singing styles as they go on. They don't get a full length solo to themselves until Mal du Pays. But the character that most influences their style is...

Loop Loop is full on Broadway Jazz, baby! Syncopated rhythms, brassy sound, fast patter lyrics, the whole shebang. Don't look behind the curtain at what all that glitter might be hiding, stardust~

The King Super bass, in the tradition of opera villains usually being basses. At first the only super stand out thing about his singing is that his range is so distinct, but in later encounters he gets both more delicate moments and moments where the true power of his voice to intimidate comes through.

(Also yes all of the Forgotten Island peeps will have a few musical elements in common to set them apart don't you even worry we'll get to it :3)

Euphrasie The Head Housemaiden has a short little mini song she does for the first bit of her speech. It's simple and catchy. Every time it transitions into her final speech as the musical motifs are distorted.

Dormont The people of Dormont sing mostly in a grand opening number ala the opening numbers for Beauty and the Beast, Fiddler on the Roof, The Music Man, etc. Little bits and pieces of the song come back in various combos and Sif loops and jumps around asking people new things. They would also double as disembodied voices for certain musical numbers that could use extra voices for full out harmony, dramatic effect, etc.

More will be coming soon, so I hope you enjoyed my ramblings.

[skimmingmilk]

i've just found out your tumblr has even MORe picket fence writing and im over the moon?? But also my heart was shattered with the back in time wip 😭😭😭 how does sonic find the strength to leave baby tails behind, how does he react when he sees tails again in his own timeline after having met sick abandoned baby tails??

Heheheh, yeah, there are some little fics or scenes I've written that I hesitate to put on AO3 sometimes (or just aren't complete enough to be a story on their own), so I like to throw them at Tumblr from time to time. Glad you found them! :D

Ohh, the back in time WIP... Not sure how much I can give away because of the chance that it's going to end up part of a bigger fic... but it'll still be a long while until I get around to posting that xD Maybe people will forget lol.

Potential future spoilers under the cut?

So! The way I see it playing out is that Sonic is going to find it in him to leave baby Tails behind because he knows they'll cross paths one day, the way they're supposed to and everything will play out from there. He knows he can't stay in the past and he can't take baby Tails to his present. Plus, Silver's with him and it probably wouldn't go over well to try and explain why it'd be a good idea to take baby Tails with him when it would negate pretty much everything Sonic and Tails experienced together since meeting on West Side Island or cause a split in the timeline where now there's a universe where Sonic never got to meet Tails because he wasn't there and now Sonic's time with have two Tailses. He knows that it can't happen.

But... Sonic still can't stop wondering about the little guy. Is he cold? Is he scared? Is he getting enough to eat? Is he lonely? Hurt? All the things he's not letting himself think about when it comes to his Tails (the 10 year old who's on his first solo adventure and basically gone as close to no contact as possible in order to "prove himself"). He projects all that onto the baby version of him because he knows Tails can handle himself (and that's not why he's worried about him, what he's uncomfortable with is the motive behind the journey). So he gets his hands on two Chaos Emeralds and goes back to check on baby Tails by himself. Just this once.

Except it doesn't end up being just once. Because there is this disconnect and distance between Sonic and Tails of the present, doubts that have arisen in the wake of Forces, Frontiers, and now Tails's absence, Sonic's drawn more and more to the past. Baby Tails smiles and laughs and he doesn't pull away from him and he likes to play and explore and he still needs him. It's just so easy for Sonic to make him feel better. Just by being there.

Also, because this is after Frontiers, going through cyberspace and the cyber corruption has opened the gates to Sonic's memories a bit and they're kind of leaking into his thoughts more and more. He's falling into the habit of ruminating, reliving moments and questioning choices he made, things he might've done wrong, could've done better. So that maybe Tails wouldn't feel like he needs to become a completely different person.

Present Tails won't listen to him, but baby Tails hangs onto every word. So maybe by being there... Tails might remember being loved and maybe the 10 year old won't only see the worst parts of himself when he looks in the mirror if Sonic can try again and show the younger version that he's worth something just as he is.

I think Sonic crosses paths with present Tails twice during all of this. The first conversation goes okay, but there's an awkwardness to it. But Sonic does try to make an effort to be more open with Tails in the hopes that maybe it will set a better example. And Tails is surprisingly receptive to it. So Sonic resolves to not go back to the past, because Tails seems to be doing okay after all. And he's reminded that he loves who his little brother is now. The good and the bad made him who he is, and would he really want to change that? Of course not!

Unfortunately, the second conversation doesn't go nearly as well...

So Sonic goes back to see baby Tails in the wake of it - not because he needs it, but because Tails clearly does - but when he arrives, the forest is burning and he can't find Tails anywhere...

[moosesarecute]

Song of the Wind part 3

Since so many people (aka two 😅) asked, here is a third and final part

Part 2

Masterlist

Azriel was pacing back and forth in the entrance of the Town House. His house.

He still wasn’t used to being the owner of a house. And he still sometimes flew to the House of Wind instead of here.

It had been four months since his first dinner with your family. Four months since your mother and brother accepted his request to court you.

And it had been the best four months of his life, even though he felt like he was playing a part.

He used all his experience as a spy to pretend that he knew what he was doing as he gave flowers to your mother, talked politics with your brother and carefully talked about everything and nothing with you.

Only in his letters to you could he be his embarrassing self.

You would send back and forth letters all the time. You wrote about your daily life and ambitions, he wrote about his personal life and every thing else that he wanted to tell you.

He wished to tell you everything, he realized.

He had been pacing for the better part of an hour. Thinking about all he had planned to do these two days you were going to come to Velaris.

You had been there before, of course you had. You and your family had visited twice before.

That’s when he realized your family excepted him to own a house and Rhys gifted him the Town House. Azriel tried to refuse, but soon Feyre and Elain had started to decorate, and he had no other choice. He had really started to love the house.

This time, you were arriving alone. No chaperone. And Azriel felt like the pressure of all courts had been put on his shoulders.

If he messed up now, all his chances were gone. This was it.

A knock on his door, made his shadows stop clinging to him and he moved to the door. He straightened his back and took a deep, but quiet breath, before he opened the door.

Outside stood both you and your brother, Mateo. His eyes immediately met yours and all worry he had disappeared.

“Hello,” you said with your bright voice.

“Hi,” he answered dreamily, before he realized you were waiting for an invitation to come in. “It’s good to see you, please come in.”

You gave your brother a small hug and Mateo gave Azriel a look that almost screamed “don’t you dare mess this up”. Azriel gave a grave nod in return.

You walked into the house and Azriel showed you to your room. You would have to sleep in separate rooms, of course.

“This will be the best weekend ever,” you said as the two of you started making lunch.

The weekend was packed. Azriel had only planned a few things to do, so that you would choose the rest.

You ended up dragging him along to one of Feyre’s painting classes, you went on walks through the Raindow and went to every single cute cafe you could find.

In the evening, the two of you went on a dinner date and the day after you had joined his family for family dinner.

Smiles were big on both faces throughout the entire days.

Azriel held the door open for you as you walked out of the River House.

“I have one more thing I wished we could do,” you said.

“Anything,” he responded as he closed the door behind him.

“I was wondering if we could go flying again,” you asked him with a quiet voice.

He almost froze. Of course he wanted to fly with you. Flying was his favorite thing ever. Nothing had ever given him as much peace.

But that would mean holding you. Carrying you in his arms as he flew above Velaris seemed like a dream, but was he allowed to?

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked that,” you said before he could answer.

“No, no, it’s okay! I really want to fly with you, but I would have to carry you. Is that okay?”

He felt a stupid blush reaching his face. He had flown multiple women before, but the thought of having you so close made him flustered.

“I would be okay with that.”

When he picked you up and felt the warmth of your body against his he thought he was going to lose all control.

It felt so right holding you against him. He absolutely loved it.

Throughout the four months of courting he had been longing for the day he could fly with you again. Not in a life-death situation, but for fun.

“Ready?”

You nodded and he took off.

The scream that left your mouth was a lot quieter than last time and was soon changed with laughter.

He flew them far above the ground and while you were amazed by the lights from the city, he was amazed by your bright eyes and the feeling of holding you.

It was the most amazing thing he could ever have dreamed of.

“This is amazing,” you said and turned to look at him. “Thank you, love.”

The pet name made his knees weak and he was so happy he wasn’t currently standing on them. He would definitely fall.

“No problem at all,” he answered as he got lost in your eyes.

After a while, he flew you down to the Town House.

Being from Summer meant being used to a warmer temperature than what it was in Velaris, so he made sure you felt warm under a blanket.

The night disappeared into day, but neither of you noticed. The entire house was filled by laughter and love.

The mating bond was humming in both chests. Humming stronger than ever before.

“I love you,” you whispered to him.

“I love you too.”

Relief was the feeling that spread through his body. Both from you and from him. The second feeling was pure happiness.

His shadows were swirling around you, like they had done the entire weekend. Now, they became a little braver and clung closer to you in a protective, but also comforting manner.

Azriel half expected you to get scared from them, but you only leaned further towards them, and therefore also towards Azriel.

His shadows on the other side of his body started to push him towards you and soon you were touching. He lifted his hand and you did the same, interlocking fingers.

Both of you relaxed completely against each other.

You stayed in the same position until a knock was heard and Azriel knew that your brother had arrived.

Disappointment filled his heart, but then it was gone again.

It was your disappointment he realized. He was about to ask if you were okay, when you sat up, kissed his cheek and made your way to the door.

The kiss made his shadows go crazy, but he hoped you didn’t notice.

It was a simple goodbye and then, you went back to the Summer Court.

Azriel had been sosial the entire weekend, but he didn’t feel as tired he usually would. It only felt empty. The house was too big without you in it.

So he decided to make his way to the River House.

You had expected him to do it when you made food the first day.

Or when you ate dinner at the restaurant.

Or when you walked through the rainbow.

Or when he flew you around and gazed at you like you were a goddess to his god.

You at least expected him to do it when you stayed up talking the entire night. Leaning into each other and feeling the warmth and smell from his body.

But then he didn’t.

Your brother arrived and winnowed you home and it only took one hug for you to break down.

He didn’t want you.

He said he loved you, but he still didn’t want to marry you.

Breathing became harder and harder. You weren’t good enough for your own mate.

Your brother carefully moved you from his arms into your mother’s.

You could almost smell his anger, but you were too deep into crying to realize what he was going to do.

That was until he winnowed away.

“How did it go?” Nesta asked as soon as he walked into the River House.

Most of his family was still there after the dinner last night. Being either too tired or too drunk to go home.

“It went fine, I think,” he answered.

All his family was looking hopeful at him. They wanted details.

“We talked the entire night and her brother picked her up not long ago.”

“We really like her,” Rhys said and it made Azriel smile. “She seems right for you. I’ve never seen you smile like this before.”

He nodded at his brother. He really did love you. It was an incredible feeling knowing that you loved him back.

“What’s going on?” Amren asked.

She and Varian had been gone for the last two weeks. They had therefore no idea that you had been visiting.

“Y/N was here this entire weekend,” Feyre said and she continued with a blink in her eye. “Without a chaperone.”

Amren only snorted, but Varian’s eyes grew double the size. Azriel felt his smile fall.

“What?” He asked.

“Did you-,” Varian started speaking, but was cut of by a door closing.

In walked Cassian and to Azriel’s horror, Mateo.

“Look who I found,” Cassian said.

Azriel immediately got worried. Did something happen to you? Were you hurt? Didn’t they get home properly?

Azriel stood up and was about to voice his concerns, when Mateo’s fist met his nose.

Mateo wasn’t the tallest or strongest fae, but he knew how to punch. Azriel both felt and heard his nose break.

He realized he must have messed something up for Mateo, who had become his friend, so want to hurt him so badly.

So he let Mateo do what he needed.

In the end he had a broken nose, a black eye and he was drenched in water…twice.

“What the hell is wrong with you? I let you get close to my sister even though you messed up about everything in your first dinner with us and then you play her like that? Don’t you own any shame? She’s been the most patient. She’s been urging me to let her see you and then you prove all the bad accusations about Illyrians right?”

In the end, Rhys pulled Mateo off him.

“I’m sure it’s a good explanation for all this. Azriel gave us the impression that the weekend went quite well,” he said and tried to calm Mateo.

“Well? Well? How can it go well when he doesn’t have any plans on attaching himself.”

Azriel’s eyes grew wide. What? Of course he was planning on attaching himself to you. He wanted nothing more in the entire world to call you his.

A small attempt on clearing a throat was heard in the corner of the room. Azriel met Varian’s eyes before the male no longer dared to look at him.

“I might have forgotten to mention the part about how a unchaperoned visit is the same as telling someone to propose.”

Azriel’s mouth flew open.

You had excepted him to propose. You had waited patiently the entire weekend for him to say he wanted to marry you and then he hadn’t.

He had to hold back his shadows to prevent them from killing Varian, but he let them punch him to the ground.

“I didn’t know,” he almost pleaded to your brother. “I swear, I didn’t know. Of course I want to marry her, she’s the best thing that has ever happened to me.”

A ring!

He needs a ring.

But it was Sunday and most of the shops were closed.

He was about to ask Rhys for one when his shadows lifted his hand and dropped a ring-box into it.

He opened it and was met with the most beautiful ring he had ever seen. It screamed you. It would look amazing on your cute hand.

“You have a ring ready?” Mateo asked. He seemed to suddenly realize that Azriel was serious.

Azriel almost told the truth about his shadows buying a ring behind his back, but then his shadows forced his head into a nod.

“May I please propose to your sister?” He asked hopefully.

Mateo gave him just a stern nod and Azriel was on his way.

He winnowed and flew and winnowed until he stood outside your home.

He didn’t knock, but just opened the door and left it open. Your mother was almost burning with anger as she saw him.

“I’m so sorry, ma’am,” he said. “I don’t have time to explain, I need to propose to your daughter.”

His shadows told him where in the house you were and he immediately ran to your room.

He almost ripped open the door and stormed inn.

You were about to go into bed, but stopped as you saw him.

His heart broke at the sight of your bright eyes that were now red from crying. You were crying the first time you met, but now that the tears was because of him it was ten thousand times worse. He wanted to throw up.

He didn’t let you speak as he walked up to you, went down on one knee and opened the ring-box.

“Y/N Y/L/N, daughter of Dana, sister of Mateo and owner of my heart. I’m the stupidest male alive for not realizing what your visit this weekend meant. I promise you, I didn’t know, but it doesn’t matter. I messed up. And I promise to try to mess up less in the future, but please, please, please, will you marry me?”

“Ready?” Your brother asked you.

You leaned into a hug and he kissed your forehead.

“It’s not too late to back away,” he continued and you only laughed.

“I’m sure I made the right decision, even though you’re still mad,” you answered with a bright smile.

He took your hand, tilted your flower-crown a little to the left and started walking with you.

The weather was perfect. Not too warm, but a blue shy and a bit of a wind.

The garden you had chosen to get married in was the most beautiful and it felt so right. With a mix of pink, blue and green plants as decor.

Azriel cried as he saw you. He stood out in his black suit, but you at least got him a white flower to have in his hair. He wore it proudly.

The ceremony was beautiful. Your vows were a mix of Night Court and Summer Court traditions. Your first kiss was the most amazing kiss ever and you soon became addicted to kissing.

Your entire family and his entire family were together for the party afterwards.

It was the most beautiful day ever.

“I can’t believe we finally got married,” he said and kissed you on the mouth.

“You proposed last month, love. You made it seem like you’ve waited forever.”

“I have,” he said. “540 years to be exact.”

You laughed at your cheesy mate.

Rhysand winnowed you both to the Night Court. The Town House was now also your home.

What Azriel didn’t know was that you had, with the help of Feyre and Nesta, placed a small cake that you had made on the kitchen table of the Town House.

Azriel ended up eating that cake quite quickly when he realized what it meant.

And you know the rest.

Extra:

“Can you at least give me a two meter radius?” Cassian asked the guards that were currently surrounding him.

“No, we have orders from the High Lord,” one of them answered.

It had taken Rhys two weeks of almost begging Tarquin to let Cassian come to Azriel and Y/N’s wedding. And he was allowed to come, but he was constantly watched by at least three guards.

“Enjoying yourself, Cass?” Rhys asked him. He stood and talked with both Azriel and you, but Cassian wasn’t allowed. It was a too crowded area for the guards to have complete control.

Azriel and Rhys broke out in laughter at Cassian’s annoyed face. You, however, walked up to your new brother in law with a small glass of champagne.

Cassian was about to take the glass when one of the guards slapped his hand away.

“No alcohol!” He said.

Cassian had to hold back from stumping his foot like a toddler.

“You break one building,” he muttered and his words were answered with laughter.

@historygeekqueen @daughterofthemoons-stuff

Divider by @cafekitsune

[myokk]

HOLA! ❤️ First of all, dropping some kudos because I love you and your art so much (basically my blog can be your side blog too at this point!) ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

Second, from the character ask, I'd like to know about 3,4 and 20 for both Eloise and Leo 😁

Hope you have a wonderful day/night!

HOLA MI ITALIANA FAVORITA💓​ I APOLOGIZE IN ADVANCE FOR ALL OF THE YAPPING I'M ABOUT TO DO🤭​ will this get you to finally visit me🥺​

I'm going to answer these for Eloise SINCE I already did 3 for Leo & I have someone asking me about 4 for Leo as well🥺💓

3) What was the first thing you decided on, the character's name, appearance, personality or their role in the story?

This is a tricky answer…just bc my evil gremlin mc in the game has NOTHING to do with Eloise in my writing. I guess I would say her name? I was just thinking of what would be the most British sounding name I could think of when I started playing in December🙂‍↕️

But then my imagination took hold of me…I started thinking about Eloise’s backstory…and when I thought of how all of her family dynamics/how she grew up would influence her personality I started to be really dissatisfied with the game and the lack of choice we have while playing. SO I gave up on the game completely after the restricted section quest and started to use my free time to write my fic in January🥹🫶 but her backstory, personality, and role in my story are definitely the most interesting things about her to me!!

Bonus: my first ever drawings of her in January!!! Bad quality bc it’s an insta story screenshot😆💓 (I redid one for my fic🤭)

4) And reverse, which one of the four things did you struggle with the most?

Hmmmmm😭😭 I think her personality is what I struggled with the most and continue to struggle with as I write!!!! I always want her to feel like a *real* person with flaws, but ALSO convey to the reader why they should love her as much as I do. I think I’m successful bc I get comments/messages a lot from people telling me how much she resonates with them (and she’s some people’s favorite???😳💘) but I STILL CANT HELP BUT FEEL INSECURE ABOUT IT !!! It’s so hard sometimes keeping in mind how she is and how she thinks, and I never want her to be wishy-washy or doing things out of character for her. It’s a fun challenge but a challenge😭💓 (also her appearance changes like crazy in my art but whatever I’m learning😆)

20) bonus: share any additional thoughts, art, favorite scenes, anything you’ve been waiting for a chance to ramble about.

DES YOU REALLY WANTED ME TO YAP WHEN YOU SENT THIS MESSAGE😆😆😆😆😆

I really, REALLY want to yap about the foreshadowing and scenes I’m working towards in my fic BUT IVE ONLY TALKED TO LIKE ONE OR TWO PEOPLR ABOUT MY PLANS ( @choccy-milky & @kay9leo 🤭🤭) AND I DONT WANT TO SPOIL ANYTHING EVEN THOUGH I DONT HAVE MANY READERS😆😆😆😆😆😆😆 maybe in the future…

This is me redrawing the chess scene from my fic bc I’m really dissatisfied with how Seb looks in the original (he’s probably my LEAST FAVORITE TO DRAW BC IT’S IMPOSSIBLE !!!!!!!)

And ummmm….hmmm Eloise is DEFINITELY not a self-insert character to me, but I DID give her aspects of myself. Things like…we have the same birthday (January 31) and eye color (dark green), and I tend to overthink a lot and can be in my own head maybe too much, but I’m ALSO a lot more assertive and gremlin than she is😆😆😆😆 I love the fact that she’s so soft and sweet💓💓💓 & I just want to wrap her up in a big hug and never let go of her🥺🤲

(Imelda is my self-insert tbh…and this moment in my fic was ME😤:

At the sight of Imelda's worried face her throat contracted - Eloise found she couldn't speak - and she burst into tears again. They were rolling, hot and salty, down her cheeks and she hid her crumpled face back into the crooks of her arms. Imelda immediately wrapped her arms around Eloise, and she melted into her friend's embrace. Hands gently stroking her hair as she cried and cried and cried, murmurs whispered in soft Spanish to the top of her head.

She was overwhelmed, desolate, lonely.

I feel really bad for Eloise at this point in her story, but I also find it really interesting to keep poking her to see when she finally snaps and decides that she NEEDS to stand up for herself and what she wants. She hasn’t quite realized that she’s the only one who’s ultimately in charge of her life & I’m really really enjoying watching her become the person she’s meant to be🥹🫶🥹🫶

[godilovecinnamon222]

how to surv1ve thanksgiving and christmas d1nn3r with an 3d mini guide!

disclaimer:

i am by no means encouraging anyone to st4rv3 or to follow this guide, i made it hoping that it would reach the people that know they'll be struggling at holidays and that need this help. i know how scary and how hard it is to try and keep an 3d a secret, this is supposed to help the people that need to know how to avoid the judgement and the oddly terrifying questions that get thrown at them.

how to prepare:

i would say there's 2 ways to go about the day before the d1nn3r, e4ting so that you won't p4ss out infront of your entire family, or f4$ting, this is really up to you. i have a pretty good tolerance for not p4$sing out so i will probably be f4$ting but it's totally your choice!! you can also try and calculate how much your going to e4t and burn c41s according to that (i'll list basic f00ds and numbers at the bottom)

"why is there like nothing on your plate??"

first off the best way to avoid this entirely is to just make a plate, i'd rather avoid people finding out so i can keep doing what im doing

for your plate (if you make one) load it up with tonsss of vegetables or fruit but i feel like fruit is never really served tbh, and some meat bc yay protein, sometimes ill throw a roll on there to make my plate look a little better but i don't ever really eat it, my whole family thinks im a very picky e4ter and they know i dont like thanksgiving food so im typically able to get away with throwing out f00d. and family dinners are so chaotic that people don't even realize sometimes.

you can also cut your f00d up and reshape it etc (yall know this meathod 🙏) to make it look like you at3, mashed potatoes are very easy to spread around and make them look like less. here's some excuses you can use to respond to the question:

" oh i atę earlier!!" this is a classic obviously but if your with people before hand e4t a little something in front of them and really make sure they notice.

" i dont feel to good right now."

" im not super hun6ry" also a classic but in classics we trust!

"last time i atę ____ it made feel really sick"

" oh i'm allergic to ____" allergies are a solid excuse but i wouldn't use it unless you actually have them

" gotta save room for dessert!!" don't worry i'll also be explaining how you can get through that to

dessert:

i feel like this is almost more stressful than the main meal, honestly me and my favorite cousin walk like crazy when ever we're together so sometimes i get lucky and miss dessert and than it sits out but there's no one really makeing me ęat it, for our family dessert is mostly optional and my mom knows i don't like e4tin6 a ton of junk so she won't suspect anything but if your family's forcefull here's a few things you can do:

-go for something that you know is lower in c41s or a safe f00d for you

-have very tiny servings

- bake something yourself so you know exactly what your getting

-talk about how full you are while your eating dinner so people think less at dessert

" i might have something in a little bit!!" try to avoid saying things about f00d, like im still full from dinner or im letting my f00d settle, because than you won't have to deal with "but you barely 4tę anything!!"

know what your 3ating:

all of these are measured by the s3rving siz3 (also going to be listed) they may also vary depending on brands, ingredients, toppings, blah blah blah you guys probably know that. this is basically just a rough estimate

cranberry suace: 86 c41s, one slice (about 8 slices per can take that as you will)

- mashed potatoes: 214 c41s (1 cup)

- sweet potato casserole: 235 c41s (1 cup)

- green bean casserole: 200-230 c41s ( a little under 1 cup)

- green beans: 31 c41s (1 cup)

- broccoli: 31 c41s (1 cup)

- asparagus: 32 c41s (10 spears)

- mac and cheese: 310 c41s(1 cup)

- turkey: 240 c41s (1 cup)

- gravy: 36 c41s (3 tbs)

- stuffing: 300-400 c41s (1 cup)

- rolls: 80-150 c41s (one roll)

- pumpkin pie: 300-450 c41s (one slice)

- apple pie: 300-450 c41s (one slice)

- pecan pie 400-500 c41s (one slice)

these f00ds are mostly for thanksgiving because the whole holiday is centered around f00d and i actually despise that, let me know if i missed anything you want me to add to the list or if any of these are incorrect!!

with all of that said, if you enjoy thanksgiving or anything to do with f00d in general, there is absolutely nothing wrong with that!!! no matter where you stand your 3d is still valid. so if you choose to try and make the best of the holidays to whatever extent that may be go right ahead and don't let anyone else stop you, make your self a plate of your your favorite things and go back for dessert twice if that's what you choose, one day won't ruin every step of progress you made, as long as you don't loose yourself entirely you will be ok!!

no matter who you are or how your struggling, your 3d is valid, good luck, be safe, and happy holidays!!!

[cepheusgalaxy]

"don't care about what people think of you!" is not practical advice when you're trans btw

[m00ngbin]

Uh warning this whole thing is me complaining about my bones and pain and stuff so if you're sick of hearing about that you should probably ignore this

Whatever's wrong with my knee spread to my hip so I think that maybe I WILL be needing a cane or something soon and it's not just a joke I was making cause I had to keep sitting down in random places

Joke might be the wrong word because it wasn't really a joke and it wasn't funny, I was just trying to be lighthearted and it didn't seem like it was really happening or that it was probable

[peapod20001]

I am the nail growth self saboteur!!

[askshivanulegacy]

Hey this isn't like me yelling-callout-post-NOW or anything but I was scrolling through replies on the trolley-problem-palestine post and I do want to say that I have to unfortunately be invested in US Politics as a non-US citizen because of the way these elections affect the rest of the world, culturally and politically. The US is one of the richest and most influential countries in the world and the way it decides to interact with the rest of us, where it sends money and military to, and the conversations people in the US are having even about domestic issues end up shaping the conversations that happen outside of it (trans and immigration issues for example). It's horribly unfair and I'm fuming about it always why can y'all veto shit ❤️ but uh yeah, just a minor nitpick with the influence of the elections on everyone else. I could be entirely wrong in my perception of the way things are but that's how it seems to me rn.

That post was a long time ago, so I can't remember specifically what I said about it, but I don't disagree with your ask.

My big beef (and what I typically rant about) with most of the chatter about the US elections and Palestine isn't that the elections influence other countries. They definitely do.

My beef is that all the US tumblrites are making Palestine into the one single issue ever, in the world and in the US, and they're putting on blinders to everything else.

Palestine isn't even CLOSE to being the single issue or even the most major issue. It simply is not.

And in a US election, Americans NEED to take a look at OUR issues. The issues that affect everyday life. Affordable and accessible education, housing, healthcare, LGBTQ+ issues, rights to bodily autonomy, etc., etc.

In a US election, those are the things that are the most important. In a lot of ways, those are the only issues that functionally exist, within the context of the election bubble. Yes, you can and should consider foreign policy as a factor, but it should NEVER be the only factor ... not when there are so many raw and bleeding gaps at home, and clear, obvious, and impending threats to the very lives of the people these sjw tumblrites claim to care about.

I'm saying that election time is the time for Americans to focus on America for just a minute. And when all I hear is Palestine to the exclusion of all else - all rational thought, all sense - with the conclusion being "punish Biden because he happened to be president when Israel was being a little shit," then that's when I say none of that matters.

Because the US election is not about Palestine or any other country. It's about the US.

People desperately need to remember that.

No, I don't want to put America first, and I care a lot about how we interact in the world. But by God, you don't put your own country LAST in the election that is specifically for your country and will determine how you survive ... and IF you survive. You don't throw your country and everyone in it under the bus.

We have the right to be a little selfish for our election. Not Trump-selfish, but selfish enough to have some sense for the things happening here. It's time to set Palestine on the shelf for a while - at least long enough to realize that "punishing Biden" is idiocy.

Also that Biden is not only America's best strategic option, but he ALSO happens to be Palestine's and the rest of the world's.

Honestly, I've seen more of that perspective from non-Americans, and I hugely appreciate it. I just need the actual Americans in the room to realize that 1) they need to take off their fucking blinders, and 2) their stupid little short-sighted Biden-punishment stunt will not only harm themselves but also all the other countries they seem to care about more than their own.

And I want them to start giving a fuck about the country they currently live in.

[yanderenightmare]

TW: implied nsfw, implied noncon/dubcon, poly yanderes, sprained ankle, captive reader, apocolypse au, talk of fertility, murder of unnamed characters, mentions of potentially killing reader

fem reader

Just thinking about the apocalypse, the two army men who’ve long survived it in their shelter with barely any trouble, and then you, a poor girl trying hard to outrun your last captives only to run into them.  

You didn’t realize back then that it was like trading piranhas for sharks, too caught up in begging for their aid to think better of it. You should have just kept running, but your ankle was sprained badly, maybe even broken, and you were wearing so little you would most likely have died from the cold during the night if they hadn’t taken you in.

It seems unfair of them to have kept the giant bunker all to themselves, only the two of them, but you don’t judge. You would likely have kept it all to yourself as well.

This new world has bred new humans, and they’re all monsters. It’s honestly quite surprising they’d even let you in, given this is what they’re protecting, this sanctuary from the past, a comfort most people would kill their closest friend in exchange for.

Trust is all but dead, and so is honor or any other morality—you would know, you’ve lived out there for it all, only having survived by spreading your legs at the right moments. It’s a shameful tactic, and many times, you’ve wondered if it wouldn’t have been better to spare yourself and just die. What was the purpose?

This—you think. This must be it. They have showers and working hot water.

You don’t know how it’s possible—the original owners of the shelter must have been some type of millionaire. You haven’t had a warm shower since the world went to shit—years ago. It’s been a choice of waiting for rain or finding a lake, hoping it wasn’t rancid. Meanwhile, they have soap—scented soap, the lush kind you’d forgotten existed. It feels so nice you have to cry—rejoice—sobbing while lathering yourself, watching all the filth go down the drain, leaving you smooth-skinned once again for the first time in forever. You can’t remember having ever been so clean before, feeling reborn.

They have fresh clothes for you too—new socks and underwear, all clean fabrics, so much more than what you wore—pants, a shirt, and a sweater to keep warm. You didn’t know there still existed people who lived like the old days—you’d thought it was long gone, a bittersweet dream you sometimes have the pleasure of at night instead of the usual nightmares. Never had you thought you’d experience anything even remotely similar, but here you are—looking yourself in the mirror after so long, surprised to see a human looking back at you.

And they feed you. Not scraps, not leftovers, not rot, or days-old flesh from the last successful hunt—but freshly baked bread, vegetables, fruit—for fuck’s sake, they even have juice. You cry again while eating, and then you find yourself begging them again, “Please, let me stay—please, I’ll do anything. I can cook, clean, work—anything at all, I can do it, just please let me stay…”

You’re on your knees, forehead pressed to the heated metal floors—toasty and comforting, you think you could sleep better than ever right there.

“We’ll think about it,” one of them mutters as he gathers the plates. His voice was so harsh he might as well have said, not a chance. It’s clear by his frown that he’d rather send you right out again, leave you to the monsters.

“We’ll at least let you stay until your ankle heals, so don’t worry.” The other is more sympathetic, helping you up. “For now, let’s get you to bed. You must be exhausted.”

It hadn’t crossed your mind that they’d have beds—actual real soft downy mattresses and duvets and pillows. The two of you help make it together. It feels so foreign that you wonder if you might have died earlier. Some years back, you wouldn’t have thought heaven would resemble a prison cell, but now it only made sense—safe metal walls and a bed. What more could one possibly want in the world?

“I’ll wrap your leg for you if you sit.” He holds out a bandage roll, gesturing to your ankle.

Blinking, you can’t even register what he’d just offered until he’s getting down on his knees before you.

You panic, then. Bandages are hard to come by—it hardly seems worth it. “There’s no blood, you shouldn’t waste it—”

“It’ll heal better and faster this way,” he adds reassuringly. His voice is so soft and compelling that you find yourself sitting down without further quarrel, even when it makes you feel spoiled.

He’s gentle with you—holding you steady while wrapping it just tightly enough to be supportive. There hasn’t been a man who’s touched you like it.

“Does that feel okay?”

You can barely tell he’s talking to you. It’s all so lost on you that you can only wordlessly nod your head.

He fastens it just as carefully before standing. “Is there anything else you might need?”

You shake your head just as wordlessly. You can’t believe how nice he’s being. It makes no sense at all. Not in this world. Not anymore.

“I’m sorry, but I’m gonna have to lock the door,” he apologizes with a sheepish look once standing on the threshold.

You’d been stuck thinking about how warm the room was, trying to remember a single time you hadn’t been freezing during the night. “That’s okay, I understand,” you say. After all, what’s a locked door in comparison?

“Good,” he smiles—it’s likely the kindest smile you’ve ever seen. “Alright then, good night.”

Once again, you’re left stunned. The last time you’d heard those words spoken must have been from a loved one long since dead. It makes your lip wobble again as you say it back, “Good night.”

It's strange—they could have left you for dead but didn’t. They don’t seem gullible—they can’t be if they’ve managed to protect this place for so long—but you suppose there still exist men who have a soft spot in their hearts for helpless damsels in distress.

As you sink into the comfort, draping your duvet atop your battered body, you don’t even care about the camera in the ceiling—blinking red while watching you.

“Did you have to bandage her up?” he grumbles as the other walks into the bedroom after having said his goodnights to you. 

He’s already in bed, observing through the cameras on a tablet—you were currently curling into the duvet, wrapping it around you close for comfort. You’d likely not slept on anything so soft in a while—it wouldn’t surprise him if you preferred the floor. But no, you drift asleep quite quickly.

“You know how badly things can heal without proper support,” the other answers, regarding it as no big deal. “And besides, it’s not like we often need it—we have plenty to spare.”

He removes his clothes and crawls onto the bed as well, lifting the covers to slot himself right next to the other man, who still has a scowl on his face.

“Oh, come on…” he drawls. “She’s exactly what we’ve been talking about, isn’t she?”

The grump doesn’t answer, still with keen eyes watching you, even as you’ve fallen asleep—as if waiting for you to do something befitting a wild animal in a cage. The other’s eyes fall to the screen as well, but he only awes in delight.

“Look at her, already fast asleep,” he purrs while zooming in on your face. “I mean, did you see how she was begging earlier, what she said? I’d do anything,” he continues, almost whining. “So cute, I could have fucked her right then and there.”

The other man sets the tablet aside with a disagreeing sigh. “We’ll wait at least a week for her system to detoxify from the wasteland,” he says strictly. “I’m not touching her before then, and neither are you unless you want to sleep alone.”

The other groans then, flopping down on his back. “Yeah, yeah, you and your safety protocols,” he dismisses before a smirk creeps up his face, glee twinkling in his eyes as he looks up at his grouchy counterpart. “But then we keep her, right?”

“Tch—we don’t even know if she’s fertile. The wasteland could have made her barren as long as she’s been out there,” the other shuffles down into the sheets as well, turning to look at his partner and the awfully keen look on his face.

“So we test her. Give her a medical check,” he says, again as if it’s not a problem, even when it very well could turn out to be.

They’ve already broken quarantine rules by letting you in here—and who knows what your real objectives truly are.

“I don’t trust her,” he states.

The other pouts. “I don’t see what one little lady can do—she’s hardly a threat. And we already purged the group that was following her. I doubt any of them made it out alive.”

True, he had gone out and sent several gas grenades into the settlement. Surely, none of them managed to escape, but then again—

“Pest control only works when you kill them all, and we’ve just let one inside our own house,” he grumbles.

The other one sighs. “Okay, so if it turns out she isn’t as cute as she looks, we’ll deal with her like the rest. But if I’m right, and she really is just a harmless little thing, we keep her, and I get to have the first go.”

Suppose there isn’t anything better to do aside from killing you straight away, which would only have been a waste of food, water, clothes, and bandages. 

“Fine.”

The other grins at the agreeance, humming, “I guess until then, we’ll just have to make do with each other—I've been hard since we watched her shower.” He leans forward for contact but is shut down as his bedmate rolls around with his back turned to him.

“Tch—take care of it yourself.” Tonight has been too stressful to tug each other’s dicks. 

He can hear him whine behind him, but he settles down soon enough.

Suppose it would be nice fucking a woman again. It’s been so many years he figured he wouldn’t need it anymore. They’ve made do with each other so far. But even he can’t deny, once you’d washed all the blood and muck off, once he saw the dewy hue of your soft skin and the silk of your hair, all those plush curves, and not to mention that awfully sweet look on your face—he felt the tug in his pants too.

He'll do a medical check on you tomorrow. He hopes you’re fertile. But even if you’re not, he might give in to the other’s wishes and keep you anyway. After all, they might have many luxuries, but the comfort of pussy is one they haven’t had in a long, long, long time.

♡ BNHA – KiriBaku, BakuDeku, ShinKami, DabiHawks, EndHawks, ErasurMic ♡ JJK – SatoSugu, ItaFushi, SukuIta, ♡ HQ – Miya twins, KageHina, BokuAka, ♡ CSM – AkiDen, YoshiDen ♡ BLLK – NagiReo

♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist

[tired-biscuit]

Logan would probably moan like he’s having the best sex of his life from just a shoulder massage. Do you think he’d deny he needs one? Or would you catch him off guard while he’s asleep?

18+ MDNI, fem!reader // cw: friends to lovers, unexpected mutual pining, logan realises he’s touch-starved after you offer to give him a backrub, and you both get turned on by it.

divider credit: div1nepetal

what if you’re, like… his friend, who’s grown to care deeply about him over the years and wants nothing else but to help him out a little from time to time in simpler, more ‘humanly’ ways because of said caring?

i mean, he’s got super fast healing and all that jazz, sure, however that doesn’t mean that he doesn’t get sore and thus — unbearably — cranky about it… and since you’ve known each other for so long, you’ve also gotten quite comfortable in each other’s company! so it wouldn’t be that odd if you were to offer to relieve the pain in your friend’s back when he swings by your place one random evening… right?

it’s really just to make him feel better, nothing else! because as soon as he flings himself onto his favoured spot on your worn out couch (a dent that he fucking made with the help of his heavy adamantium ass), you catch him repetitively stretching his neck from side to side and rolling his shoulders every so often with a furrowed brow and a tight-lipped expression that somehow manages to appear even grumpier than his usual neutral.

you steal glances because of it. listen intently to the laboured sighs he keeps letting out. and after leering at him and his struggles from the corner of your eye for a little while, not at all paying attention to the movie that you’re supposed to be watching with him, you finally succumb. you turn to the side and propose your offer whilst wiggling your magic fingers, as you like to call them, right in front of his face, and logan, as is expected, denies it by gently swatting your hand away.

taking over pretty much the entire space on the couch from how he’s manspreading, he doesn’t even peel his eyes from the television that — unlike you — he’s actually watching when he tells you that, “you don’t gotta worry about it” and that it’s not that bad, then. for some reason, he even feels the need to add that he can handle himself just fine.

it all makes your eyes roll.

and instead of listening, you rather choose to persist. he’s a wall whenever he makes up his mind on something, you know this, but you also know that if you nag him and scold him for long enough, prodding and picking at the cracks between phantom bricks, he’ll have no choice but to give in and give you what you want just to make you stop… though not without adding a snide comment or two himself during it because he can’t help but act like a dick sometimes around the people he’s fond of, it’s just the way he is!

as you tell him to scooch over and lay on his stomach, you feel just a little bit bad that you had to resort to annoying him in order to being allowed to help him. however, the guilt isn’t nearly as strong as is the sense of victory that you’ve just achieved, so you allow it to curl the corners of your lips into a satisfied, cat-like smile while you busy yourself by straddling the small of his back. he can’t see your face anyway, so what’s the issue?

meanwhile, logan lets out a tired exhale, smushing one cheek against the decorative pillow that he’s folded his arms under so that he can still watch the tv while you work your supposed magic. he listens to your sheepish apology and request to tell you if you’re too heavy, to which he responds by calling it nonsense and that you’re insulting him by thinking you’re heavy whilst sitting on top of a guy who’s literally filled with metal.

and filled with metal he is, indeed! it’s not long before you realize just how much freaking pressure you have to apply to his shoulders and back in order to make him feel something. how much physical strength you have to put into it, to the point that you’re nearly sweating because of it. popping a bone in order to ease some of the tension is literally impossible, so you aim your focus onto the taut cords of muscle instead.

you can see them even through the thin white shirt that he’s wearing — they’re that profound. flexed and attractive, attained with hard work. but they become even more visible when he reluctantly lets you roll the hem of his shirt up towards the collar, unfolding his arms just so that he can lift the upper half of his body, and you right along with him, with no visible effort whatsoever.

the air in the room shifts a little after that; it gets kind of tense. because all of a sudden, you’re skin to skin. his should be covered in scars, but he’s lucky enough to have them all healed and smoothed away by his power. and while he may not be able to feel relief in his adamantium-covered bones, he sure as hell can feel the warmth of your palms running down the slopes of his broad shoulders, the grazing of your nails that nearly makes him shiver when they reach a particularly ticklish part on the nape of his neck, the heat between your legs as you continue to sit on him, dressed in nothing else but a pair of comfortable and tiny shorts…

forcing himself to be a loner, logan isn’t used to being touched like this all that much, and it makes him sensitive. and as a result, he can’t help but squeeze his eyes shut and groan in absolute pleasure when you readjust by wiggling your hips on top of him and lean in super close to really dig your fingers into his strong back.

you pause at the sound; he can hear your breathing hitch a little before it continues to fan his shoulder blade. he’s already halfway on opening his mouth to say something in order to avoid things from getting too awkward even if he’s not the kind of man who minds if they do, when all of a sudden it hits him.

it’s barely there, just the faintest whiff of something sticky and sweet. it would be impossible to catch by a normal human, but he isn’t a normal human, now is he? no, he’s a mutant — a primal one, at that — and because of it, his nose is more than capable of catching a scent like this.

you’re… aroused. have gotten turned on by the sound he just made. are getting wetter between the legs by the second. and he can smell it.

fuck.

logan chooses not to say anything even if the pheromones that he’s steadily inhaling now are making his blood grow feverish to dangerous levels. meanwhile, you choose to remain quiet as well, simply continuing your ministrations as if nothing has happened.

something that does change, however, is the way you touch him. from that hiccup onward, you get more, should you say, intimate with it; even daring to comb your fingers through his rich, dark hair at some point and experimentally tugging at the roots, making him actually shiver this time.

he doesn’t just shiver, though. the action is so freaking good that it also causes his eyes to roll into the back of his head — he silently prays that he’s managed to squeeze them shut for a second time before you could catch it.

and that’s not all there is to it either. by now, his cock has become painfully hard in his pants. thick, hot and leaking pre-cum from how excited he’s getting. it makes laying down on his stomach extremely uncomfortable, but he thinks it’s better to suffer through it than enabling you to see what you’re doing to him both physically and mentally.

mind fogged by a mixture of your and now his own lust, he’s getting so horny that all he wants to do is rut into the couch while you continue to touch him. he doesn’t, of course, he’s been around for over two centuries so he’s pretty good at restraining himself, however that doesn’t mean that he likes doing it.

so he remains decent… well, somewhat. he pants a little bit, and he grunts and curses under his breath in a way that makes him sound like he’s balls deep in your cunt, folding you in a mating press and pounding away until you’re nothing but a whiny mess and his cum is trickling down your thighs, but he still tries his very best.

by the time you pat him on the shoulders and tell him you’ve finished, he fears he did, too.

[ms-demeanor]

hi, hopefully this isnt a stupid question -- this is only my second election i'm voting in, and i'm a little confused about results. is it actually confirmed that trump has won, or is it just almost certain based on the counted votes? bc i know that provisional ballots (like mine) probably arent immediately counted, and there was that thing about votes needing to be verified because of signatures, plus to my knowledge the electoral college doesnt vote til december? i'm probably just grasping at an infinitesimal chance of things not being shit, but also i do actually want to understand and google is not helping :( if you can't explain no worries, you just seem to be knowledgable & willing to answer questions haha

This is absolutely not a stupid question.

So everything is currently pointing at what is most likely, not at what is 100% certain, but it's like 99% certain. There are still votes being counted, but in the states where the election has been called it has been called either because enough of the ballots have been counted that the remaining count wouldn't change the results, or that the area is historically so strongly in favor of one party that it's exceptionally unlikely that they'd flip the other way (for example, they're still counting california's ballots but you're more likely to get struck by lightning five times today than california is to flip red in this election). The places that have not yet been called do not have enough electoral votes for Harris to win the election.

The electoral college is exceedingly unlikely to flip their votes against the state/district vote; "Faithless electors" is the term for members of the electoral college who would vote against the vote they are committed to for their region. It was something discussed in both the 2016 election and the 2020 election and flipping the electoral college without winning the election was the motivation behind J6. As shitty and bullshit as I think the electoral college is, if you're going to have one and you're going to have the rule of law, you can't hope for faithless electors because what you're hoping for at that point is that the people representing you are acting directly against the choice of the voters.

I want you to listen to me. I have been voting in presidential elections since 2004. Presidential elections always suck. Who the president is does matter, and does impact your life, but you genuinely do not have a ton of influence over that so you can't let it throw you into despair and inaction, because we should be active and political and protesting the wrongs of the world even if your favored political party wins. Vote in local elections, work with your local community, and if your local community sucks too, work with online communities to both give and get support.

Whenever something like this happens, people pass around the Mr. Rogers quote about looking to the helpers. I like that quote. I think it's good, I think it's hopeful, I think it helps! But I also think that sometimes it's even more effective if you look for how to help. Who are you the most scared for after this election? Who are you worried about in your community or among your friends? What can you do that might make their life easier? What can you do to protect people like that in your community? What don't you know that might make you better prepared to help them in the future?

One thing that I think is a fantastic way to prepare to help is to either begin or continue learning a language that you don't know. I am working hard on my Spanish because I live in California and there are a ton of Spanish speakers here who I might be able to help. Is it directly aiding anyone right at this second that I'm practicing conjugation? No. But it might help someone who is being harassed by a cop, or who is unhoused and needs help, or who is being abused by an employer at some point in the future, and I can get myself ready to help. Learn how to use naloxone and pick up up an inhaler; you might not need it now, but it'll make you ready to help someone who does need it. Order free covid tests every chance you get, even if you don't need them, because then you can give them out to people who do need them. Plan B has a multi-year shelf life. Pick some up so that you've got some on hand if someone needs it.

Maybe there's nothing you can do right at this exact second (though if you are able to donate to gender affirmation fundraisers, border kindness, abortion funds, bail funds, etc., you can absolutely do that), but you can get ready to help someone who will need you someday.

[mossy-rock-in-a-field]

Several weeks ago, my retirement-age mother requested that I play Baldur’s Gate 3 for her because she has trouble with controllers/keyboards and wanted “to see what all the fuss is about with that cute wizard boy.” For context, my mother and I have done this sort of thing in the past with certain RPGs (dragon age, mass effect, etc.), but it’s been a few years since she’s personally requested a game like this. Basically, I control her Tav but let her make all the choices so she can determine how the story plays out without worrying about mechanics. She treats it like a choose-your-own-adventure book.

Anyway, here is a list of some of the things my mother has said and/or chosen to do throughout the course of BG3 in no particular order:

She is (obviously) romancing Gale. She is quite smitten with him and his passion for books and learning; she also thinks he’s polite and qualifies as “relationship material.” She also REALLY likes the things he’s said about his cat so far (my mom is a cat lady), so I know she’s gonna flip shit when we meet Tara in Act III.

She’s playing a normal druid Tav with a generally good alignment. Her favorite spell is Spike Growth because she thinks it’s hilarious whenever enemies walk into the AOE and die. I usually end up having to cast it at least once per battle per her request. Sometimes twice.

Contrary to her alignment, my mother tasks me with robbing every single chest, crate, barrel, and burlap sack we come across; this also includes people and their pockets. The party is always at max carrying capacity. ALWAYS. She doesn’t like selling things because “what if I need them.” The camp stash is in literal shambles. There is no hope of organizing it. She’s got like fifty seven sets of rags and a billion pieces of random silverware.

She MUST talk to every animal and corpse in the game. I think five hours of her total playtime so far (47ish) has been spent speaking to animals as many times as humanly possible. Like, I was thorough in my own playthroughs, but this is on a whole other level.

She did NOT get Volo’s lobotomy, but she did let Auntie Ethel take her eye in hopes of a cure for the tadpole. I did not understand the logic then. I still do not understand it now.

She is far more interested in fashion than equipment stats. Do you have any idea how much gold I’ve had to spend on dyes just to make things match? SO much. Same vibe as that “please someone help me balance my finances my family is starving” tweet but instead of candles it’s thirty thousand fucking bottles of black and furnace red dye.

We broke the prisoners out of Moonrise, but they got on the boat too early and bugged the fight by leaving Astarion and Karlach behind. Wulbren Bongle somehow got stuck in combat mode even after engaging the cutscene on the docks below Last Light; he he kept trying to run ALL THE WAY BACK TO MOONRISE nine fucking meters at a time while I frantically tried to finish the fight with the Warden, otherwise Wulbren would have run straight into the shadow curse. (I would’ve let him go; fuck Wulbren Bongle, all my homies hate Wulbren Bongle. But my mom didn’t know that, and she wanted to keep him safe. So.)

She had me reload a save like eighteen times to save the giant eagles on top of Rosymorn Monastery. Wouldn’t even let me do non-lethal damage just to get past things. I think getting that warhammer for the dawnmaster puzzle took us like an hour and a half alone. (Yes, I know you can use any warhammer, but SHE didn’t.)

She’s started keeping an irl notebook to keep track of her quests between play sessions. She writes down ideas and strategies when she thinks of them during the week, then brings them to her next game session at my house. I think she wrote about three pages on possible approaches to the goblin fortress alone.

She insists that I pet Scratch and the owlbear cub before every single long rest, no exceptions. Sometimes I have to do it multiple times until she is absolutely sure that the animals know exactly how much she loves and cherishes them. She has also commissioned a crocheted owlbear plush from a friend of hers and is very excited.

I’m sure there’s a bunch of stuff I’m forgetting, but those are some fun things I thought of. She’s enjoying the game and is telling all of her retired friends to get it and play it for themselves. She asked me “what is Discord” yesterday and I think my life flashed before my eyes.

anyway shout out to my mom for being neat

Part 2 — Part 3 — Part 4 — Part 5

[ddejavvu]

bff james w no boundaries — his main love language is physical touch and that includes biting,, like 😭 you’ll just be minding ur own business n he’ll bite your shoulder or anywhere really.

hope ur doing well angel. ❤️

"Here, Remus," You offer up a spoon of blueberry tart to the teenage werewolf, unphased by now at the closeness of your friends. Perhaps at eleven you'd be worried about swapping cooties when sharing spoons, but now you're only worried about plumping Remus's gaunt frame up again before the next full moon.

You extend the spoon towards Remus but in doing so you have to bypass James who's sitting beside you on the bench. You'd expected him to fake a lunge for the sweet, but when he opens his mouth and sinks his teeth into what's in front of him it happens to be the flesh of your arm.

"Hey-ow!" You yelp, and despite your word choice, it doesn't really hurt. It's more of a grasp than it is a bite, just enough force to pin your arm between James's infuriatingly perfect teeth.

"Prongs," Sirius's face screws up in what you're sure is a mix of embarrassment and confusion at his friend's behavior, but perhaps there's a slight possibility of fear there, too. Fear that James has become a cannibal and the boy with the bed next to his will suffer tonight.

"That's good." James retracts his bite as quickly as he'd dished it out, smacking his lips like there'd been something swallowed and enjoyed, "That's good arm."

"You're a freak." Remus drawls, finally taking the tart from your spoon and letting the flavors wash over his tongue, "Pads and I are supposed to be the biters. Deer are just supposed to run away from everything."

"That's not true." James defends his animagus with a passion while Sirius snickers across the table, "Deer fight with their antlers. Sometimes deer fight so hard that their antlers come off. And deer do bite sometimes, thank you very much."

"Only during mating season." Sirius references the copious research they'd each done into their animal counterparts, "Don't steal another page from the dog book and start humping her leg, Prongs."

"It is not my mating season!" James exclaims, just a bit too loud for the social setting you're in. Your cheeks are blazing but thankfully James is making a fool of himself enough that no one is studying you. "I'm simply overcome with the urge to sink my teeth into people when I'm feeling particularly fond of them. Y/N's making sure Moony's stomach isn't flatter than his ribcage, and I appreciate that. Only a good woman shares her blueberry tart. Hence," He grins, more of a baring of his teeth than a smile, "I bite."

He leans down to take a chunk out of your shoulder this time, and you feel the sharp-but-gentle pricking of his teeth even through three layers of clothing.

You have the time and the power to raise your shoulder and clock James in the teeth with your bone. But you refrain, and perhaps that's why Sirius finally latches onto you instead of James.

"Careful, darling." He warns, his own canines glinting in the candlelight above, "Deer can go rabid. I'd make sure you're not contaminated with his saliva if I were you."

"Too late." James grumbles around the meat of your shoulder, raising his head quicker than you can react to lick a fat, wet stripe across your face, "I'm not rabid, Pads. But I can see why you dogs do the licking thing. It's not bad."

"Yes it is." You decide, smearing away his sticky spit with the sleeve of your button-up, feeling the phantom sensation of his teeth on your skin, "And if you do it again I'll bite you back."

"Kinky, you two." Sirius kicks you beneath the table, a wicked grin on his face, "Remus, I think we should take our meal elsewhere. Prongs and Y/N are about to start necking right in front of the pastries, and that's not the glaze I prefer on my donuts."

[drunktuesdays]

everyone is fucking but no one is horny

one of my twitter friends recently said that if she could order up a fic it would be a story written by someone who has only ever read the classics, 1.5 star trek novelizations, and their mother's romance novels from 1970, written about two people are so out of their minds horny for each other it causes them to make the absolute worst choices anyone's ever made.

and i almost lost my mind laughing because i do know exactly what she means. there is a weird vibe i can sometimes sense within the first few paragraphs a fic that really bums me out. it's almost like i can tell the author is thinking way too much about what i'm thinking about their id and it's suddenly like we're all suddenly wondering how riding a bicycle works when we're mid-ride. when you start worrying too much audience interpretation or how a fic is going to do or play or ugh marketability, it genuinely adds some weird self-conscious distance to whatever you're doing. and it's the pits from the reader side because it removes so much horniness from your story even if the idea you have is genuinely good! i know this is not a niche complaint--you find it literally everywhere as every sector of the creative internet gets #content-ed and people can't escape the stats of how any given creative outlet does.

but god there's literally nothing better than sitting down and reading some freaknasty person's art where they do not give a single shit if you like it. they had something to say and my god they were gonna say it. i've accidentally acquired so many kinks by clicking on a story where someone took me on the most insane ride of my life and i thrilled about it. i don't wanna read about polite normal regular love. i don't wanna read about people using therapy-speak on each other. i wanna read about two people feeling the biggest craziest feelings of their entire life and they cannot do anything about it except bang it out. what else are we doing here? if they're not fucking down an entire house, well jed i don't even wanna read it.