#and yes i genuinely want people to engage with this!! please explain this to me!!

[deslizada]

I hate terfs as much as the next transsexual but I'm genuinely confused about how vanilla radical feminism got such a bad name?? the basic premise is that patriarchy is embedded in society and society has to be restructured to eliminate it, with heavy focus on intersectionality and anticapitalism, idk how else you're going to do feminism. like I get that the association with terfs probably poisoned the well for a lot of people but if you read any actual radfem writing there are plenty of trans inclusive radfems. please engage with this post because I'm so confused and I want to understand what brand of feminism people think is the Most Unproblematic here. and I mean actual feminist theories not "I'm a woman so every choice I make is a feminist choice", that's not a feminist theory, go straight to jail do not pass go do not collect $200

[beesspacedotorg]

Handle With Care

Summary: You've had a truly awful day, luckily, your adoring boyfriend Minho is there to make it better. 2.5k words

Warnings: there's sex, but honestly it feels like someone accidentally got porn in my fluff so do with that what you will. reader is as gender neutral as physically possible. reader is also lowkey a crybaby, sorry but actually I'm not

Notes: Hello adoring public. It turns out, I can write fanfiction, and with the encouragement of Juno and Ems, I can also post it! There is a cat in this, she was inspired by a cat my family used to have and a cat my family currently has. They're both calico which I think explains everything you need to know about them.

There’s a lot you can say about the day you had today, and most of them start with sh- and end in -itty. You’re thinking on this as you dive head first onto the rough material of your couch, great for sitting, bad for face planting. You hear a scratching by your head and absentmindedly bat your cat away from the arm of the couch, mumbling something about how she has a perfectly good cat tree two feet away before resuming your completely justified sulking.

“Oh, hello. I didn’t hear you come home. How was your day?” There’s a voice above you and you can picture him in your mind's eye, leaning against the back of the couch as he stares at your limp form, probably eyeing the shoes you didn’t take off by the door. You mumble something half hearted in response and he huffs before the sound of walking hits your ears and all the breath leaves your body at once. He’s sitting on you. This motherfucker is sitting on you.

“Get off, Minho” You had to tilt your head to the side, it’s hard enough to breathe through couch fabric as is, much less when there’s a full grown man sitting on your back.

“You should answer people when they try to talk to you, jagiya.”

“You shouldn’t sit on people while they’re laying down, yeobo.” Your voice is a lot more acidic than his was and a twinge of guilt settles on you before it dissipates as he shifts and manages to place more weight on your back.

“Hmm. I guess we’re both doing things that we shouldn’t then. How tragic.” His voice is deadpan, and you still can’t see him from where your head is turned- your view is limited to the back of the couch and his arm in your periphery- but you can feel the dead stare he’s aiming at your skull. There’s a silence for a few moments while you engage in a war of attrition, neither of you willing to give up just yet, but it’s getting genuinely hard to breathe and your back is starting to hurt.

“It sucked, please get off.” He does, patting your back consolingly.

“See? Was that so hard?” He guides your head to his lap as you both sit back down, petting over your hair like he would his cats. “Tell me, what’s got my baby in such a tizzy?”

You grumble at him, rolling over to shove your face into his stomach, tired and petulant. He sighs softly, but keeps patting your head, so you know he’s mostly just doing it for show.

“That kind of day, hmm, jagi?” And you nod again. Honestly, it wasn’t much different from a normal day, it’s just that the right things managed to go very wrong and subsequently ruined your day in a way that has pressure forming behind your eyes and your voice cracking stupidly every time you try to talk.

You both sit for a while before he puts something on the TV and gently shoves your head off his lap.

“Hey-”

“Do you want the dinner I worked so hard on to go cold?” He has his hands on his hips in front of you and you laugh slightly at how funny he looks. He rolls his eyes and goes, coming back with two bowls of something before he forcefully sits you up and shoves it in your hands.

“Eat.”

“Yes, chef.”

The food is delicious, it always is when Minho cooks it, he’s got a talent for it you’ve never really seen firsthand, and you consider yourself truly blessed to be able to eat it as often as he’s able to make it for you. Still, gratefulness and taste aside, your day was shitty enough that every mouthful tastes like ash and turns to rot in your stomach, leaving you with an unsettling queasiness that shouldn’t ever be attributed to your boyfriend’s cooking. You’re shoving the contents around with a spoon before he huffs- a real one this time- and takes the bowl from you, setting it on the coffee table next to his own before he mutes the TV.

“Okay. Quite clearly something is wrong. What can I do to help you?” You think he knows, but you like that he asks anyway. Minho always asks, always lets you talk and sort out whatever’s going on before he tries to help. Even if your answer is a simple shake of the head, a simple, I don’t feel like it, become a mind reader, he always asks before he helps. Sometimes you wonder how he always knows what you need, others you just decide to not look a gift horse in the mouth.

You huff and your lip wobbles pathetically and he coos, slightly condescending.

“Crying already? I haven’t even done anything.” He’s teasing, but his hands are gentle as he pulls you into his lap, his hands are gentle as they find their way under your shirt, his mouth is gentle as it kisses down the side of your face to your neck.

“‘M sorry,” you’re not the biggest fan of crying, neither is he, but for different reasons. He’s not someone who’s brought to tears easily, you are, but there’s an inherent shame in it, you think. Something so embarrassing about getting worked up enough to start crying like a baby, and so as much and as often as you feel like crying, you don’t. This he also knows, because he knows everything.

“Aish, why are you sorry for? I didn’t tell you to apologize, did I?” He taps your cheek lightly, causing you to look up at him, he plants a kiss on your nose, then your mouth.

“Sweet thing, don’t worry about anything except for what I tell you to, okay?” And you nod and he smiles.

You’re not much for talking in times like these, everything is so sensitive and soft and talking feels like a cheese grater on this cloudlike moment so you don’t and he knows, so he doesn’t chide you for it. Usually, he would. He’d crack a hand down on your ass or grab a fistful of your hair and tell you that he asked you a question so he expects an answer, but that’s not what you need right now, so he doesn’t. He just kisses your jaw again before he puts both of his warm hands under your shirt and lets his fingers poke at your chest.

He always says his hands are small, but really, you wouldn’t be able to tell, not with the way he cups your chest in his hand and lets his thumb brush over your nipple, gentle and reverent. It’s not much, not as much as he usually gives you, but it’s enough to have your mouth dropping open with a gasp and your back arching into his hand, it’s enough to have him giggling softly at your reaction.

“Sensitive today?” He’s teasing again, as soft as he is right now, he’s still Minho, he still likes to poke fun. You huff, biting at his shoulder softly in retaliation and he lets you, pinching your nipple just this side of too much in retribution before one of his hands wanders down to your ass, groping and squishing the flesh. Your breath stutters in your chest as he pushes your hips forward onto his, friction sending sparks up your spine.

“Min-” You’re desperate and he hasn’t even done anything yet, not really. A few stray touches and you already feel yourself shattering to pieces in his grasp, you’re not afraid though, and not quite ashamed. He’ll take care of you, he always does.

He does it again, guides your hips forward until you’ve gotten the hint to keep going by yourself and you’re struck with the urge to kiss him, so you do, removing your head from the home it’s made on his shoulder and making a go at his mouth. It’s messy, your coordination shot already, and you almost smash your forehead into his nose before he catches your head with a laugh.

“Easy there. Bloody noses aren’t exactly sexy.” You disagree, he could make anything sexy, but you don’t have time to voice that thought as he pushes his mouth onto yours and lovingly shoves his tongue down your throat. The kiss is messy, they always are. However gentle he is, he can never seem to stop himself from kissing you until your face is covered in drool and spit, and if it were anyone else, you’d be mildly repulsed, but you like the way he looks at your mouth after it’s over, so you let it slide. 

You pull away, chest burning and heaving and look at him before you still, eyes drawn to something by his head.

“Baby? What’s wrong?” You don’t answer, gaze still drawn away from him.

“There’s a little white girl staring at me.” He turns his head to the side and laughs as he comes face to face with your cat, her green eyes boring into him. He scratches her head affectionately and lets her headbutt him before your center of gravity is shifting drastically and you’re clinging onto him for dear life.

The bedroom door shuts before you’re very aware of it and suddenly there’s a mattress under your back and a Minho over your front and his hands are up your shirt again, this time shoving it off of you until your chest is bare. You shiver slightly from the cold and then there’s a blanket being shoved around your shoulders and you smile up at him. He knows you so well, he loves you so much and your eyes are welling with tears.

“Aigoo, my little crybaby. It’s just a blanket,” there’s a kiss on each of your cheek bones, “silly thing. Save your tears for when my cock is in you, hmm?” Your breath stutters again and your hands are tugging at his shirt until he takes it off, he laughs again when your hands immediately find his chest.

“I’m glad someone appreciates my hard work.”

“They’re nice boobs.” The sentence catches him off guard, makes him laugh hard enough that he loses his balance a little and his weight settles onto you more. It’s comforting, like a weighted blanket that can talk and walk and kiss you silly.

Then, his hands are under your bottoms, tugging them off your legs and you’re suddenly wearing nothing and he’s still in his pants, which you find disgustingly unfair. You reach down and tug on the hem off his sweats, pouting and huffing until he gets the message and tugs those off too.

“You just want to get me naked,” he starts. “I can’t believe you just want me for my body.” You nod cheekily in response and he smacks your shoulder.

“Yah! See if I’m ever nice to you again!” But he’s kissing your neck again as his hands guide your legs to cross over his hips before he’s touching you in a way that steals the breath from your lungs and makes your head tip back into the pillows.

“There we go. So pretty when you’re like this, hmm? So soft and sweet for me.” His fingers are in you now, pressing insistently against that spot that makes white splash in your vision and reflexively forces your legs shut. He grunts slightly as your thighs squeeze around his hips, pressure just this side of uncomfortable. He doesn’t say anything though, just keeps his pace steady inside you until you’re almost tipping over and he stops. You look at him with something akin to betrayal, fresh tears springing to your eyes, but before you can open your mouth to complain he’s sliding home and you don’t have enough air to say anything anyway.

He catches it though, rolls his eyes as he sees the way your attitude was about to flare up.

“What did I tell you earlier, jagiya? Don’t worry about anything unless I tell you to worry about it. I always take care of you, don’t I?” He does, he’s good to you like that. He sounds slightly out of breath already, unusual for him, but you don’t mind because it feels like you’re seconds away from God’s doorstep yourself.

His pace is slow and deep, bass knock steady even as you squirm under him. If this were a normal situation, he’d stop, hands gripping your hips unforgivingly until you stayed still, but this isn’t a normal situation so he lets you wiggle, only huffing in mild irritation before he leans down to kiss you again.

“You’re gonna knock us off the damn bed, baby.” But he doesn’t make any move to stop you, and you feel too good to really process his words anyway. You love him, you really do, and you’re struck with the overwhelming urge to tell him, to let him know, to make him know. You grip his shoulders tightly, nails digging in until he hisses and levels you with a glare, one that instantly softens when he meets your eyes.

“I love you,” it comes out of you as a sob, like it was wrenched from your vocal chords before you gave yourself permission to think it. “I love you so much.” You’re rambling now, repeating those three words over and over and Minho coos, hips faltering just slightly. He always goes weak when you tell him you love him, and you keep it in your back pocket like a weapon for the times that you’re in trouble.

“I love you, too, jagiya. ‘S that why you’re crying? Hmm? Love me so much it’s gotta spill out from your pretty eyes?” You nod in response, breath hitching from the pleasure and the tears and his hand drifts from its place on your hip to touch you again and you’re spilling liquid heat before you can really register what’s happening. You feel him inside you, too, insides suddenly molten warm but you’re floating too high for it to feel like it’s happening to you, like you’ve been temporarily ejected from your body.

When your soul settles back into your bones, Minho is laying next to you, staring at you with his wide eyes, you look over at him and smile.

“Is boba really worth it?” He looks confused at your question before you poke him on the eyelid and he laughs.

“Feel better?” You consider for a moment. Your teeth don’t feel like they’re too big for their sockets and your bones no longer feel itchy. You’re hungry, but mostly, your mind is quiet. There’s no overwhelming pressure behind your eyes and when you talk your voice cracks from sleep instead of from the force of choking back tears.

“Much. I’m hungry, though.” You give your best impression of puppy eyes at him and watch as his eyes roll to the back of his skull. You’ve been told that your pleading face looks mildly perturbing, but Minho always says you remind him of Soonie when you do it. It makes you feel slightly bad for Soonie, soon the cat isn’t going to be able to get anything off of Minho because you’ll have rendered him immune.

He comes back with your reheated bowl in one hand and your cat in the other.

“She screamed at me until I picked her up. Stood on my feet and hollered.” He winces slightly. “I should’ve put on boxers because she almost mistook my dick for a toy.”

[williamkisser]

A Luca x reader would be nice........... preferably slow burn and y/n is the shy type............. I'm hungry................. Thirsty............ Would beg....... Thank you.... *dying*

♡— The Prisoner with a shy S/O

♡— Oh my god… anon… N-N… NO!!!! Anon please, don’t do this to me… breathe. Oh my god. BREATHE!! *sniff* *sob* i’m… I’m so sorry i couldn’t save you, anon…. I hope you’re in a better place now… *sob*

♡— Warnings: g/n reader, fluff, possibly ooc i’m not sure, word count is 1400

♡— Luca Balsa, despite going through a turmoil of tragic events, never did once even try to stop working on his lifelong passion, god forbid even think of it. Yes, around him there were degenerates, murderers, thieves, even mystical, strange creatures - such combinations would drive any man crazy, as if anyone in here already wasn’t. But after all, finding something you could get absorbed in is the best method for killing time, don’t they say? Not even his developing issue with memory loss can stop him now.

♡— That’s why the prisoner, most of the time, could be found in the comfort of his own dorm, sitting by the desk while brain storming for yet another solution to the new experiment he was currently developing. And to be frank, he did quite like it this way. He had his own corner in the world, didn’t need to worry about money, could eat delicious meals and could even discuss some scientific matters with a few other enlightened individuals. And the prize for winning the game was even more tempting. Just imagine how much quicker he could develop his project with all this cash.

♡— Despite all the focus on his own dreams and scientific infatuations, Luca didn’t stray from engaging in interactions with other people. He’s certainly considered as one of the friendliest and most cheerful people in here. Some wonder if anyone im here ever managed to get on his nerve. He’s just very tolerable towards most, if not all, however, clearly he feels most comfortable near people who are willing to listen to his info-dumps, or engage in smart conversations, ask questions and give suggestions. There weren’t much residents in the manor like this. Most are either uninterested or too weirded out, therefore the prisoner always appreciated the open minded ones.

♡— Sadly, Luca’s past whereabouts left a permanent scar on him, making him a little unaware to some social cues. This man can not pick up on someone being painfully visibly attracted to him. He assumes all people willingly interacting with him are either friendly or just curious. Luca likes showing off and exchanging ideas with his mentor Alva, asking Helena for advice and letting her touch all of his tools or projects, trying to connect nature with science together with Luchino, or even explaining his ideas to the suspiciously fascinated Florian.

♡— And then there was you. A person very shy, awkward even. Everyone didn’t mind your presence, you just existed in your own bubble, in silence. Sometimes, someone would try to include you in some conversation, and while you did appreciate the gesture you just couldn’t grasp why you felt so uncomfortable, barely able to form a meaningful sentence. That was until you first encountered a young, quite charming in his own way man personally. You instantly became fond of Luca Balsa. Something about him just radiated pure happiness. He genuinely wanted to talk with you, sensing your anxiety, and you have no idea whether it’s for better or worse, because, oh God - he made you feel butterflies in your stomach and needles in your heart. You’ve got a crush on the Oletus manor’s „Prisoner”.

♡— You didn’t know what to do. The newly discovered feelings for the boy made your anxiety far more intense than it already was. Something in your head just screamed to not get too attached, after all, this is Luca Balsa we’re speaking of, he most likely doesn’t view you as anything else but a companion in matches. But, of course, the heart always does whatever it wants, ignoring the brain. That’s how you found yourself standing in front of his dorm doors, reflecting on if it’s alright for you to knock on them. What if he’s too busy right now and you’re just going to be a burden? This was a part of your mastermind plan - try to get into his interests and become a closer friend, and then…. maybe the friendship could bloom onto something else? You were in deep wonder, unaware that the doors are now open and Luca was waving his hand in front of your face. Earth to you.

♡— Either way, you spent some quality time with him together. He was very pleased to hear that you wanted to find out more about his projects and shared several insights related to his future plans. His dorm felt oddly cozy. You didn’t even realize that visiting Luca became some sort of a habit of yours, entering his workplace nearly on a daily basis - it made you forget about all the atrocities you witnessed during the bloody games. His voice was so soft and gentle, his eyes beamed as you kept asking questions about what is he doing right now. Luca felt so glad to elaborate and ramble about his passion. He’d even offer you to help him, giving you simple tasks as asking you to bring a certain tool. He was well aware of your shyness, so he was as understanding as he could, not forcing anything onto you. One day, Luchino teasingly called you „Luca’s little assistant”. The intense colour of your cheeks spoke for itself. You were head over heels.

♡— Quickly enough, your small acts of kindness turned into something way more serious. At one point, you felt like Luca’s own caretaker, because he was literally too absorbed in his work to pay attention to his own well-being. After you began frequently assisting him in not only helping to build some programs, you just took care of his needs. While Luca would love to stay up all night and didn’t like when people complained about it, oddly enough, he didn’t hesitate to tuck himself into his bed after you offered the prisoner too. You made sure he went outside and ate enough. Simple gestures like that were your own way of showing him affection, as you were too shy to be verbally affectionate.

♡— The whole situationship was now taking way too long. You were absolutely crazy over Luca, while he viewed you as a good friend and a fast learning companion. Everyone could tell you were following him like a lost puppy outside of matches, and he didn’t mind it at all. You just wished he would finally pick up on your real intentions, but at the same time you felt worried. What if he won’t talk to you anymore? What if there will be weird tension between the both of you if you confess? On one ordinary day, you were sitting by his desk as always, silently reading the notes hanged on the cork board while Luca came to you and asked to help him draw a technical sketch in his work notebook, to which you agreed to. After months of practice in his dorm you already knew how to properly draw a project on a piece of paper with accurate proportions - yet this certain sketch was new to you, you weren’t quite sure how to do it. That’s when Luca held your hand and guided it, helping you be more precise, and what an amazing, ecstatic feeling it was, his hand contained a specific, electric even, feeling on top of that. You blushed so hard you were surprised Luca didn’t even notice, but you knew you can’t be with him this way. You were hurting yourself by not telling the truth.

♡— This is how you found yourself sitting on Lucas’s desk, looking down and fidgeting with your fingers after telling the prisoner to listen for a minute. The whole thing was so stressful you can barely remember anything from that moment, not sure if it’s because of your own anxiety or if it’s the curse of this wicked place you’re stuck in. Either way, your confession to him was probably the most awkward one this Manor has ever seen - and it certainly saw a lot. Luca was surprised he didn’t manage to connect the dots for so long. He was focused on all the wrong things and failed to notice your affection towards him. Those were a few painful months, but he was going to make sure you know he appreciates all the help, not only on the projects, but also helping him take care of himself. Luca asked you for permission to kiss you while holding your hand, which you agreed to, feeling happy like never, making all your shyness go away for once… which did not last long, as Florian entered the room without knocking, making a loud „EWW” sound. Luca was going to make sure no one will interrupt you, scribbling something about a doorbell in his notebook right after kissing you like his life depended on it. Turns out, Luca Balsa now has found something to look forward to in his life other that science and innovative inventions - which was you.

Thank you for your request anon… i hope you can read this fic in the afterlife at least… anyways this my first time writing a fic for a character i’m not very familiar with. I tried to be as accurate as i could so i’m sorry if it’s ooc 😭 anyways it’s 2am now… idv x reader tag how are you doing on this lovely summer night

[manicpixiedreamedwins]

I know we all joke about Charles Rowland having these over-exaggerated people pleasing tendencies, but I just want to say they make a lot of sense for someone who grew up in the hell hole of a home that he did.

(Now's the time to dip if you don't want to read something kind of heavy and also really messy, sorry. CW for mentions of Charles' home life)

The night nurse gave us some insight into what Charles' home life looked like (that, and we can piece together how he must have been feeling from his reactions to the Devlin house). We know he had a volatile, objectively abusive parent. We know he and his mother were terrified of this man, enough that he keeps checking in to try and make sure that his mom is still okay all these years later.

Alright. Still with me?

There's this thing that happens to kids who grow up in households like this (trust me).

Because one parent is so volatile, they learn to model after the other parent who is constantly keeping the peace. They're constantly walking on eggshells, they have to be hyper-vigilant of even slight differences in the atmosphere to prevent a catastrophe. If they have needs or wants, then those needs and wants are not being met. If there are problems (there are) then they are not being talked about (ever, and if they try then all hell breaks loose and there are consequences).

These kids form a facade of "everything is fine, there are no problems and we are happy here". You know, what we would call a people pleaser.

This is Charles. This is very much a survival instinct, it kept him reasonably safe in life (truly, he only died once he deviated from it and "rocked the boat" so to speak).

In all fairness, it has worked out fine for him in death too- Edwin responds well to it. Edwin actually does react very well to Charles' attempts at merry making, deep breathing, even his playful ideas like boardgames and boxing. What he knows works, actually. It works so well he's stuck around for thirty years, so in his mind he probably doesn’t think he should change anything.

The second time he deviated from people pleasing, in all fairness, even when he had to or else he would get separated from Edwin, also didn't work out well. He reacted on genuine, earnest feelings. He was fucking angry when the night nurse showed him his trauma. He was pretty raw when he pushed her over the bridge and into the fish. That was all earnest, uncensored emotion, not a measured act.

Edwin reacted poorly. Everyone reacted poorly. Back to people pleasing.

Charles is really only confused when people pleasing doesn't work. When he reaches out to try and befriend Monty and gets snubbed, I think he's genuinely confused. He can't figure what's wrong. This always works. It always works with Edwin at least. So what's wrong?

That continues on when he's doing everything he'd typically do to engage Edwin while he's reading and it's just... not working (because remember the hyper-vigilance- he knows something is different and so he's unsettled).

This continues onto the roof scene. He knows something is completely and utterly fucked (he just doesn't know it is between Monty and Edwin, or that Crystal’s powers are gone) and he's uncomfortable. In a previous life, he'd be waiting for the other shoe to drop and something to hurt.

He's relieved when Edwin finally starts opening back up a little and trying to talk to him. Yes, he misinterprets what's happening at first (he assumes Edwin is coming out in general, as opposed to trying to tell him he likes him), but things are going back to normal in his mind.

They're reconnecting. He does get a little uneasy because there's still one wall between them (the cat king) that he can't manage, joke, or talk his way out of yet because Edwin hasn't explained yet.

This gets interrupted anyway. (At least there's no more cat bracelet, lol. A win for Charles).

There's more pressing issues, though- he needs to rescue Edwin from hell. He literally cannot be separated from him. Their whole thing has been not being separated from each other since... well since the start. So he keeps his promise, sloughs through the depths of hell, and goes to get him. Easy enough! He disarms the babydoll spider with a bomb, a moltov cocktail, and Edwin's journal. This was probably the least of his problems.

Success. He's got Edwin back. His afterlife is good again. Now things can go on as normal.

Only FUCK! Now Edwin is asking him to express... his... feelings...

-Well. Look how well it went the last time Charles did anything on his own volition. First he died, then he pushed Edwin away. This seems kind of important. He can't fuck this up, but they are literally running out of hell, but he can't fuck this up because that would mean he pushes Edwin away-

He comes up with something that feels close to right, measured, things that Edwin has responded well to before (and under all of that he asks him to stay, please stay, be patient, but it comes out as a declaration because that seems more certain). He cannot lose Edwin here.

They run back up the stairwell together. Charles hopes maybe Edwin understood.

Charles wishes he had better words on the roof. He doesn't, other than to reassure Edwin they're okay-- he would have wanted that. The last time he said anything, it was too extreme. He says nothing and hopes maybe Edwin will give him some sort of clue on what to do again, eventually.

Idk, maybe I'll write more later but... this is so fascinating to me because it's like so obvious as someone who grew up in the absolute tar pit that Charles did. He's not dumb, or making arbitrary choices with what he's doing here. He is doing what he knows works to keep what's important to him close to him. He's just wildly out of his depth when that doesn't work.

[damnfandomproblems]

Posting a compilation of responses to Fandom Problem #5234

Anon:

PLEASE watch the Contrapoints video on Twilight. It is by a trans person named Natalie Wynn.

(anon includes a link to a YouTube video titled "Twilight | ContraPoints")

This video has changed the minds of tons of people who initially thought Twilight was "rape and stalking abuse", by explaining the history of where all this panic comes from and why people are drawn to dark fantasies. It changed my mind and I'm hoping it'll change your mind too.

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Anon:

going through every point bc this personally ticked me off for literally no reason but i have nothing better to do. so. sorry if this seems overly pissy /genuine. (also typed this in my notes app so sorry for the lack of italics/caps in place of italitcs) 1. not wanting to see incest/whatever isnt purity culture. blocking tags/accounts that make you uncomfortable is something that is HEAVILY ENCOURAGED. the only people i have ever seen discouraging this are antishippers. what IS purity culture, however, is saying that EVERYONE ELSE should not make something because it makes you personally uncomfortable. as someone who was literally raised within purity culture, that is exactly the kind of shit they say. 2. fiction DOES affect reality! but not in the way you think it does. yes, propaganda works! but that is because it is specifically constructed to convince people of a certain view. representation is important because people who arent cishet white men exist and deserve to see themselves in fiction. but i think the best way i can explain it is this; if you were to watch Hannibal, would you automatically assume that cannibalism is okay? what if you watched a John Wick movie or Deadpool? Is mass murder okay? the answer is obviously an astounding no, because you are able to think about the media you consume. this is expected of any media that isnt literally a show aimed at children. There's at least one media btw. i'm not entirely sure about Hannibal because i've never seen it. 3. that is literally a coping mechanism therapists recommend. those are all UNHEALTHY and SELFDESTRUCTIVE coping mechanisms. you cannot compare the two. 4. if you are getting mad about porn then that is an entirely Puritan viewpoint. 6. "make the story frown upon it." if you cannot gauge for yourself that these things are bad then you should not be engaging with those stories. 7. last point isnt a proship issue, its a jerkwad issue. people who dont tag things are dicks, at least we can agree on that. however if someone doesnt tag something it is on you to block them. YOU need to curate YOUR online experience. (it may also be worth it to KINDLY send an ask about it. its the same as tagging flashing. sometimes people just dont think about it and sometimes people are doing it on purpose to be a douche. you need to block the latter as they are not worth your time or energy.) Last point was something you did not mention so im not including it in the list itself; if you were to ask a proshipper if they supported pedophilic/incestual/abuse relationships irl, they would most likely say no. If they say yes then they are just a pedo/someone who is okay with incest/an abuser. those people are not bad people because of the fiction they consume/create. they are bad people because they want to hurt people and do not see anything wrong with it/are not willing to see why they are in the wrong. apologies for any typos, ive reread through it but i tend to miss things.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Anon:

Op really just compared writing fictional scenarios with fictional dollies, a method of processing trauma that is recommended by psychologists and actually -is- effective at helping people process stuff, to alcoholism, street drugs, and socon which can and do kill people. You ever seen someone withdraw from alcohol abuse? I have. You actually spoken to a psychologist about friends who write things to cope after being raped at a party? I have. Are you still a clueless child? Yes. So take your moral panic and shove it. You're a kid but if you want to get involved in serious adult conversations, you need to be prepared to accept discussing serious, real things. You can't even look at a rapefic without getting triggered (I use this word in the proper sense, not hyperbolic sense) and ascribing blown-out-of-proportion, emotional judgments on people who, if you passed them on the street, wouldn't stand out to you at all. Because these are normal people. This to me is a huge sign you're just not ready for this kind of conversation.

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

Anon:

"...really ticks me off how someone can say "It's really fucking gross how you wanna see a minor and an adult make out" and proshippers can be like "UGH PURITY CULTURE" Like, how is not wanting to see pedophilia and incest purity culture. Especially when you're a minor. dumbass I was a minor when I wanted to se OCs modeled after myself hooking up with the hot adult leads from my shows. I wasn't stupid enough to think it was OK to happen in real life but if Dream of the Endless was in an arranged marriage with my OC for reasons I wanted to see it. Like. "Minors" have sex. A lot. And yeah, age gaps can be problematic in real life but on paper? Who cares? It's fake. It's not real. It's a story. Acting like minors are sexless little angels until the day they turn 18 is crazy. Minors want to see boning and they want to see people their own age boning, and sometimes they want to see people their own age boning That Old Man or Milfs or 1000 year old vampires or whatever. Not even gonna bother with the rest. Others can get that.

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

Anon:

Where to even start here? I guess I should start by saying that proshipper doesn't mean what you think that it means OP! It doesn't mean that we support incest or pedophilia, it simply means that we're anti harassment. I don't like incest or pedophilia. It's weird to me, and yet one of the most popular series, Game of Thrones, features both incest and pedophilia. Romanticizing villainy? Can I ask what your definition of romanticizing is? What if the story revolves around the villain? Like Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes? Are stories like that not supposed to exist? What about the anime and manga called Overlord? What About Hannibal Lecter? What about the Joker movie? Do none of these have any value? Do you expect the villain to deadpan into the camera every 10 minutes confessing that he knows his actions are wrong but he's doing it anyways? And if the writers don't make their characters do this, are you going to accuse them of condoning their characters actions? Because I think it would be pretty dumb to make a villain out of character for the sake of, "I know this is wrong, but I'm doing it anyways!" Do you want no villains in stories? Is that what you prefer? For everything to be sunshine and rainbows all of the time? Because that would be really boring. Are there any true heroes without a villain. A bad coping mechanism? Really? So now you're a psychologist who knows everyone on the planet that knows exactly what everyone needs to get better? Coping mechanism looks different from person to person. What is important is that the coping mechanism helps you process your emotions and what happened to you and sometimes it is helpful to write your emotions out in the form of writing and sometimes that can be fanfiction. I am someone who had been diagnosed with trauma and depression and I'm currently doing therapy for this and taking medicine. You know what's helped me all of these years before I started going to therapy on a regular basis? Characters with a lot of baggage like me. They can be hero or villains. I don't care which it is. If they have a tragic back story and I'm all over that. Fiction doesn't effect reality? It can and sometimes does. You're right. But you know who's problem that is? Your parents, the school system, and whoever else never taught you that fiction is fiction. That characters aren't real. If your parents let the TV or Internet babysit you growing up instead of being a parent and teaching you right from wrong, or being able to tell fiction from reality, well then that is the fault of your parents. Do you know who's not at fault? Stranger on the Internet. We're not here to hold your hand, you are not entitled to that. It is up to you to curate your own experience and mind your own business. If you don't like something, blacklist the tag, block the person posting it or log off of that site and find something else to look at. You think you've debunked everything, but really you're just naive and living in a fantasy world. The world is not an idealistic place, nor will it ever be and that is why these stories exists to begin with. Covering up everything that is bad in the world won't ever make it go away and that is reality. Period. Let people cope the way they need to, and unless you have degrees in psychology, you have no right to tell people what they can and cannot enjoy. Again, I myself would never write or read about some of the things that you've posted about OP, but will I continue writing about my trauma? I sure will, because it is something that I am still dealing with many years after it happened and I'm sure others will do the same with the things that they've had experience with, too.

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

Anon:

OP, one of your top posts is an AO3 reference and contains a link to an AO3 fic. In case you didn't know, AO3 was directly created to be a host for fanworks that got censored by other sites. Functionally, it is an archive, like a library. And like libraries, it hosts anything that is legal to host under US law. One major driving factor behind AO3's creation was the "Livejournal Strikethrough Boldthrough", an incident where "concerned parties" successfully lobbied to get Livejournal, a site that hosted writing, to remove its "yucky fics". Guess what? Gay fiction got removed in the process because, surprise, certain parties found that yucky too. (I'm talking about conservative groups who are obviously very anti-gay and anti-LGBT.) Here's one post about it: https://pretentioussongtitle.tumblr.com/post/624690560646676480/like-wathever-antis-delete-your-blogs-pls-thx So... You can't say you're okay with calling to censor things, without looking at the full picture and where it ultimately leads. You're asking for a lot of collateral damage. And like someone else said, engaging in discussions about heavy, adult topics with strange adults on the internet (and most of us are adults, OP) is very dangerous. There have been a lot of cases where someone has cried foul about certain kinds of fictional writing, only for an "anti proship" person to walk up to them and groom them, and it worked because the kid was under the pretense that the person was a "safe, good person". Please do not put yourself in danger and get out of the spaces you frequent.

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

Anon:

It's interesting you use Lolita as an example of what to do "right" when it comes to depicting things. You believe tons of media must be censored or kept away from the light of day, yet Lolita is an example of what to emulate to prevent that from happening? You would be very shocked to discover Lolita is among, if not the, most notorious piece of fiction for censorship groups to attack. So I really don't know if you fully understand what it is you're arguing for, here. You're just a kid, so I'm assuming you haven't actually read Lolita. That's the first thing. The second thing is, given the fact virtually all people who are invested in censoring and banning media actually hate Lolita, but you seem to have a totally opposite, 180-degree opinion about it, I have to wonder if you've happened to find a lot of random stuff from around the internet, but have yet to actually put it all together and cross-check everything to see if it actually makes sense. There's a lot of stuff in your post that is either plain out wrong, poorly strung together, or contradictory.

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

Anon:

I'm going to look real tinfoil-hatty in two seconds, but I swear some of y'all antis in the notes are following tags like "pedophilia" and "incest" and that's the only reason you found this confession. Cause I haven't seen half of you here before. And if so, that's kind of weird. I hope I'm wrong. To be fair there's no way to confirm either way but I just thought it was funny because I can see it happening if not for the antis here, than for others. Gotta get that daily dose of outrage.

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

Anon:

""Fiction doesn't affect reality" So why is representation so important? Why has propaganda worked so well?" you're taking this statement too literally. fiction obviously affects reality. if you cry over your favourite character's death, well there ya go. fiction has just changed reality. it made you feel sad things. representation is important because it makes those represented feel acknowleged and because it makes their existence more known to the world. propaganda is designed SPECIFICALLY to heavily affect reality. a doujin artist does not sit down and think "hmm. today i will draw a loli hentai to turn people into paedophiles". ""Well I'm not gonna become a murderer just because I've seen people murder in pieces of media" Name one piece of media where murder was portrayed as unironically, fully okay." as someone not well-versed in shooters, fortnite. murder is encouraged in fortnite. the point of the game is to kill people. i'd also like you to name one piece of media where rape is portrayed as perfectly fine and dandy. ""I'm coping with trauma" Well that's an awful coping mechanism. If you have been traumatized by incest, abuse, or pedophilia, why are you creating/consuming content where those are all romanticized?" because the fact that they're not alone in their suffering is comforting to them? as an abuse victim, i like characters with abusive parents. it gives me a character to sympathise with and characters to absolutely loathe with all my being. now that i think about it, i like that i'm not suffering alone. other people acknowledge the things i, and other victims, have to deal with. there are other reasons, but that's one i thought up ""You're ableist for criticizing our coping mechanism!" ... You know what else is a coping mechanism? Self-harm. Alcoholism. Excessive drug use. Those are frowned upon EVERYWHERE, because they're self-destructive. So why is thinking adults and minors should be cute together (sometimes real life adults and minors, but I'm not gonna get into the whole RPF discourse because RPF is even more fucking disgusting) suddenly okay?" there is a difference between doing things that being actual harm and because the latter is harmless. besides... isn't this circular logic? this argument is based on the conclusion you draw from it. "proshipping as a coping mechanism is bad because proshipping is bad". ""Rule 34 and gross ships is always gonna exist!" In our current world, bigotry is always gonna exist. Doesn't mean we should stop getting mad about it." bigotry excludes a specific group of often-innocent people for no reason. rule 34 is just porn of fictional characters. completely incomparable ""I'm exploring unhealthy relationships in fiction!" Okay then! That's great! Don't romanticize it. Tag it accordingly. Make the story frown upon it. Lolita, the book, frowned upon the pedophilia and thought it was disgusting. Do that." nobody romanticises anything. most loli hentai just... depict a loli having sex. it doesn't depict it as this amazing thing that you should dp. most lolicons that talk nabout wanting to fuck... idk, klee from the funny gacha game don't actually wanna have sex with kids. it's omly romanticised in-universeww, if you will. it doesn't say anything about it being good to do irl. and on nhentai, we use tags. we have a lot of 'em, including the recent 'kodomo doushi'. you jujst have to take a look at the tags section of a doujin and search for any tag you may not want you can also filter them in the search bar. we tag our shit, it's just your fault for being an irresponsible fuck. "But you're not gonna do that, are you." we will. the importance of tagging can NOT be stressed enough anon, i am gonna be blunt here. you are not smart. you did not debunk shit. god will slam the pearly gates of heaven on you for this post

[fagnumopus]

Highlights of my bisalp surgery yesterday:

Pre-op nurse measured my height and I immediately groaned when she said 158cm, "I thought I was at 160cm!!" and she replied with "You're still taller than me!! I'm 4'11" and ¾".... with my crocs" and she lifts up her foot to show a pair of HEELED CROCS making me LOSE IT

Surgeon assistant asked about my allergies and when I said "just dust" he said "don't worry, we're not gonna administer that"

I was laid down on the surgery table and finally took off my glasses and said, "I don't think I need to see anything anymore, thanks guys" and the surgeon replied with an AGHAST, "but you still need to see me!!!" making me laugh my ass off

The anesthesiologist leaned over my head and introduced himself, super sweet and polite, and I said, "oh, so you're the one who's gonna send me to the Shadow Realm", prompting like half a dozen nurses and the surgeon to snort under their breath or straight up laugh

Surgeon assistant asked me what surgery I was getting, and I said, "A laparoscopic salpindectomy. Basically, I'm getting spayed", he looked at me very tiredly but I made some random nurse laugh so it was worth it

Anesthesia girl accidentally used she/her pronouns for me and a chorus of like 3 people corrected her with "he!!!" and she leaned over my prone body like I was a table, laughing to herself in embarrassment and apologizing profusely, and I just laughed and said "omg no it's ok girl"

Same anesthesia girl put the gas mask on me, and I said, "oh hell yeah, take me out", making the whole OR team laugh

Nurse told me to take deep breaths. I took some deep breaths and sloooowly felt my body going numb but still was very much awake, she asked very confused, "is... is that the deepest you can breathe?" and I just replied, "oh damn ok" and breathed in DEEP and went, "oh yeah it's happening. My body feels funky. Goodnight" immediately before conking the fuck out

When I woke up the post-op care nurse asked me how I was feeling, and I was fully honest, "Feels like the worst high from really cheap weed" and she laughed LOUD and had to compose herself bc we were in the recovery room lmao

Another post-op nurse gave me some crackers and 3 boxes of apple juice, which I drank fully, and she said I was "a really good drinker!!! Such a good drinker!" like 3 times, with the tone of someone who's genuinely impressed, so I chose to take it as a compliment (OR nurses of Tumblr please let me know why she was so impressed with my hydration skills)

3rd post-op nurse asked me if I liked the underwear they gave me and I said, "girl yes these are so comfy" and she whispered conspiratorially to me, "do you want some extra ones? I'll sneak some extra ones in the bag for you" and I nodded profusely

In summary, it was a lovely experience and everyone was so sweet and kind. No one even ASKED why I was getting a bisalp, they just wanted me to be safe and comfortable... I'm super lucky to have had such a lovely team. I also requested the pre-op nurses to NOT tell me my weight, and mentioned I cannot confirm it because I don't know; they were super understanding and explained very kindly and apologetically they would still need to weigh me to know how much meds to give me (which I was aware of, not an issue), and then the nurse weighing me helped me waddle backwards to the scale and when I was about to turn just to readjust before getting off the scale, she said, "don't look don't look, hold on!!!" because she was still resetting it 😭❤️ they all asked me about my job, my life, where I'm from, etc, kept me engaged and talking at all times, from the moment I was called from the waiting room. I practically didn't even have the time to be anxious, they were all cracking jokes and checking in on how I felt... it was so nice. Bless that team fr. I wouldn't have had my sterilization any other way 💕

[redacted-coiner]

I wanted to ask about something just to get your general opinion and further understand your point (please don’t interpret this as me trying to start discourse, genuinely curious but totally understand if you don’t wish to engage in this conversation)

I noticed that you’ve posted about being pro paraphile in the past, and to be honest, that confused me considering (not all but) a lot paraphiles are proshippers and interact with fiction of their paraphilic thoughts as an outlet for their thoughts, and you have proshippers in your DNI

whether or not it’s a healthy coping skill is debatable, some health professionals say it is and some say it isn’t, but from what I can tell you don’t think it’s a healthy coping skill (which is a valid opinion!)

That leads me to my question(s): in your coined term para health, what exactly is recovery to you? Is recovery simply being able to ignore these thoughts and not have them interfere with your life? Is recovery straight up no longer having these thoughts? Is it up to whoever uses the term to decide what that means for themself?

-🥤

Para-Health for those who don't know (please read tags before opening the read more)

The thing is, the proship thing is more for my own mental health. I don't do well seeing the content that one may partake in when being Proship.

Recovering is making deliberate efforts to null, get rid of, thoughts relating to harmful paraphillas. Recovering is bettering oneself for the better to make sure that people don't get hurt and themselves.

I find that proship can be... fine in the since that yes having media and content that covers the topic can be fine. But the fact that people POST it is more the issue for me. Being it can even if unintentionally can normalize the topics within those types of ships (minor x adult, animal x human, abuser x abused , etc.) and can cause others justify themselves. Of course, it ISN'T the intent of them, it can be done to cope with their realties. But it can affect folks in that nature.

I am a victim in a since to unintentional normalization, witch type, I won't go into. But it has affected my life in the since it has caused intrusive thoughts related to that topic.

Proshipping can be done in a way that doesn't hurt people but the fact people have posted headcanons relating to rape, Incest, etc. can be extremely unbombable and disturbing to those like myself.

Being pro-paraphile means that you recognize that those folks are struggling and deserve respect like anyone else. Proship and Pro-Para aren't inherently intertwined. Just because there are overlaps does not inherently mean they are one in the same. Hope that explains things...

[mylittleredgirl]

okay i am finally back on the road to catching up with star trek picard after so many weeks behind!! i have just watched episode two and no spoilers beyond that please but i need to dump my stream of consciousness thoughts somewhere AND:

the crusher ship is a mariposan ship? mariposans like the clone people??? 🧬👀 got my EYES on that dna strand from the closing credits

saavik shuttle we hardly knew ye 😭

sneed is a PERFECT ferengi name

it's just michelle hurd and her great hair and an empty starship set against the world :(

i literally just had to look up the name of rios's ship I'M SO SORRY BABY I FORGOT ABOUT YOU confessing my star trek sins on main 😭😭

earlier this week somebody at work made a star trek reference and i DIDN'T GET IT i need to have my trek blog license suspended until i sort my shit out

vadic!!!! holy shit!!! i am OBSESSED with her

i had to stop and rewind to catch this but did that guy just say the starfleet rules of engagement for outside of federation space are CLEAR?

"safety and preservation of the ship and crew above all else"???

is this... a new regulation??? asking for a friend [the u.s.s. voyager crew, getting self-destruct countdowns three times a season].

"have you done the math?" respectfully captain riker sir i HAVE done the math and this young man looks too old for the timeline we have been given

so again with the 🧬👀

oh or a hard life of petty space crime i guess might age you a few years ok

captain shaw’s messy hair is making me uncomfortable. i know we are establishing that you are not properly hinged but where is your space hair gel sir!!!!

sneed lives up to his excellent ferengi name for real

WORF!!!!!!!!!!!! working for starfleet intelligence!!?? who cares i don't need details WORF AND MEK'LETH SOUND EFFECT MY BELOVED 😭

captain shaw's "for the love of FUCK okay i guess we're getting into this" response to the family drama silently unfolding on his bridge is genuinely hilarious

i mean they are going to speak to each other out loud eventually though right

vadic giggling in her evil flying throne room lair i am SCREAMING!!!!!!! i am ALIVEEEEE!!! this is the PINNACLE of what i want from trek villainy!!!!!

i am so PUMPED!!

other things i'm thinking about that i didn't write down in real time:

trill sighting in the infirmary!

love meeting raffi's exhausted ex and it HURT that she could not choose her kid over the latest space 9/11 conspiracy that starfleet explicitly told her not to investigate :(

i suppose ending up being right in season one is not going to help with her inability to let something like this go

as tumblr user writergeekrhw explained, miles o'brien must suffer because colm meaney was great at playing suffering and i think now raffi must suffer because michelle hurd is so great at playing a strung out conspiracy theorist that no one will listen to :/

and finally:

i hope seven of nine loses and regains her rank 17 more times before the season is out

[relentless-endurance]

Hello, I love to encourage violence, please any of the following Choose Violence ask game questions you feel up to answering: 1, 3, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 12, 13, 16, 19, 20, 21, 23, 24, and 25!

'Isn't that basically all of them?' Yes! yes, it is. If there are any I didn't list that you wanted to answer, feel free to answer those too. I love drama, give me the chisme, peel it and feed it to me like squapes.

LIKE SQUAPES. fun fact: i have a squapes keychain on my lanyard. (alongside shoebill, Crow destiny 2 and (redacted) from Pandaemonium)

I will do xiv because. because.

answers them all because i have the day off, why not

the character everyone gets wrong

thats tough bc every character has those ppl that get them utterly wrong; I have particular beef though with the "emet was right and hydaelyn was evil" crowd because it just. it glosses over everything Emet did and acts like what Hydaelyn had to do was the worstest ever amen how dare she, when its like. Both of these characters did what they thought was necessary, but there is a gulf of difference between "I would let billions die to bring my world back" and "I sundered the star to avert a far worse disaster"

because i think people fail to realize. they were just going to keep sacrificing to Zodiark lol. (ALSO THERES ENDWALKER SPOILER STUFF as to why I will die on the hill defending my crystal mom)

3. screenshot or description of the worst take you've seen on tumblr

see last ask! that was a dm a person sent me lmao. at least??? they warned me???

6. which ship fans are the most annoying?

this is going to be hilarious coming from me but i'm not much a fan of most zenoswol or emetwol shippers (in spite of enjoying the former) because the discourse surrounding it all is fucking. INSANE. and there are just ways they mischaracterize both characters that drive me fucking BONKERS. So I stay in my brainworm corner with select people and I keep emet selch as a bitter ex because its honestly a lot funnier

7. what character did you begin to hate not because of canon but because how how the fandom acts about them?

Amon/Fandaniel. Specifically the clown wearing Asahi's skinsuit and the guy from crystal tower. there is just. a vibe. about it. that i do not fucking like how the fans engage with it. i can't explain it concretely it just fucking bothers me.

8. common fandom opinion that everyone is wrong about

sorrows of werlyt is not gaius' redemption it is him suffering consequences of his actions. if its anything close to redemption atonement is probably a better word for it and also the wol still fuckin hates his guts you can see the faces in the cutscenes. he calls u a fried when at best ur coworkers for that.

also i'm a stormblood enjoyer till i fuckin die. this is not a discussion i had fun thats it that the message

9. worst part of canon

the fact that ARR didn't lean more into the fact that you were the WoL from 1.0, ARR's writing in general.

also in general there is more bits in the msq where i wish we could uh. bite back a little harder instead of just being a silent protagonist.

10. worst part of fanon

oh god. theres a lot. probably the uwu soft imperialism that people get up to with certain ships (esp bc certain characters canonically and categorically do NOT give a fuck about politics at all)

12. the unpopular character that you actually like and why more people should like them

Aside from the obvious female characters I will defend until i fucking die (Lyse, Minfilia, ETC.).... Maxima! I just think he's neat. like was actually being genuine as a Populares, and saw that shit was fucked and noped out. also here, have this screen shot where my crimes gave him thot boots:

13. worst blorboficiation

answered in last ask! theres 1 ur about to meet and 1 thats pandemonium relevant but yeah. bluuuuuhhhhh your milage may very

16. you can't understand why so many people like this thing (characterization, trope, headcanon, etc)

Huh. I'm actually not super sure here besides things I've already bitched about. WAIT.

I fucking HATE when ppl have their wol who did not let go of heavensward trauma. like in that their wol didn't develop past it. especially if they're dark knights because. WHAT WAS THE POINT?

everyone handles grief differently ofc and its not a linear thing ever, but its so ?????????? to me that its like "my wol hasn't changed or let go or processed this at all".

what is the point if your character is never going to change or be affected? especially getting to shadowbringers??? thats all about grief and having a primo example of what NOT PROCESSING YOUR GRIEF does to you and can push you to?

like i'm not saying they shouldn't be affected at all, considering how much Haurchefant haunts you in the MSQ but like come on now. you've gotta move in some kind of direction.

(also smaller and pettier pet peeve: super 2edgy4me Azems. it feels so against what Azem was man, idk.)

19. you're mad/ashamed/horrified you actually kind of like...

my taste is flawless and impeccable and perfect. zenoswol may be the closest thing to an answer but like nah, its fucking funny.

20. part of canon you found tedious or boring

most of early ARR before waking sands

there is a bit after the first endwalker trial that i've sort of speedran on my subsequent runs, its not BAD, but it is a little jarring tonally the first time. i mildly appreciate it in hindsight because AFTER that endwalker cuts the brakes and is a semi rolling the down the hill at top speed emotionally, but it still like. please let me move on.

21. part of canon you think is overhyped

alexander raids. mid as fuck honestly.

22. your favorite part of canon that everyone else ignores

oagh unfortunately i am a girlie who enjoys all the popular things in canon. The best answer is probably the Four Lords trial series. Its one of my favorites but people don't seem to talk about it much

23. ship you've unwillingly come around to

I actually don't have a ship that fits this. I only like like 2 of the canon/canon ships and i've always been a fan of most of the wolships that float around

24. topic that brings up the most rancid discourse

Emet Selch. I love grandpa war crimes, he's one of my favorite characters and favorite villains ever, i have literal merch of him, but holy shit he is the reason for so much twitter discourse. which is kind of funny and on brand but also jesus christ can people please just relax and learn to mute/block people and tags aaaa

25. common fandom complaint that you're sick of hearing

i don't know if this common or i just saw it a lot given my twitter algorithm but people have so. much. beef. with people who Persephone Azems. for some reason.

the reason is apparently they're most insufferable kind of straight girl shipper/emet selch fan but like aside from an occasional encounter on a wolqotd post, the two people i know/know of who actually have an Azem named Persephone are.

an mlm whose noriety comes from... being one of the biggest G'rahawol content creators/shippers

one of my lesbian friends who chose it for not shipping related reasons

and most of the time their highest crime is. an Azem named Persephone. that ships Azemet. like any genuine complaints there might be are like. not unique to this VERY NICHE SUBSET OF FANS but apparently they're sooooo common and soooo annoying.

like maybe just block and move on bc some of the complaining i see borders on being genuinely misogynistic like. its fandom pixels. RELAX.

[yourfellowhuman07]

Where Do We Go Now?

A She-ra: Princess of Power 2018 fanfiction

The war is finally over. Prime is dead, the hive mind is broken, and everyone is reunited with their loved ones. However, there are some questions left unanswered. What will be the fate of Catra and Hordak? What are these new memories Wrong Hordak has? What is Etheria's place in the wider universe? Where do we go now?

___________________

Chapter 9: Morning After the War

The Alliance sat around a fire as Spinnerella and Glimmer made soup for everyone. The latter exchanged hard glances with Mermista and Perfuma as they sat on the side. Frosta was also with them, looking over to the rest of everyone.

No matter the tension Glimmer was determined to have a good day. The war was won, and there is a bright future ahead for Etheria, hopefully.

Speaking of tension, Hordak and Entrapta finally joined the group, once again sitting with Scorpia and TD.

“< Do you have any clue about what happened yesterday while we were gone? >” TD whispered.

“< Not a clue, It’s been weirdly silent, and it is starting to worry me. >”

“< Have you told anyone about your name change? >”

“< Yes actually. They were surprisingly accepting. >”

“< Good. >”

Hordak was then overcome with the feeling something was watching him, and he was right. Mermista was staring at him with a mix of rage and disgust. In return, he used his famous ‘stare into your soul’ stares which made her look away.

Always works.

After making sure everyone was fed, Glimmer called upon everyone’s attention.

“Ok, everyone, my father and aunt are setting up camps for all the clones. Right now, we are going to round all the stray clones up and take them there. Now note, do not harm them during the process because I don’t feel like fighting a bunch of unorganized, revengeful warriors.”

“That’s unlikely, Clones are taught to always obey their captors to save face,” TD interjected.

“We’re not their captors though,” Perfuma said practically offended.

“They will think you are for now, and it is probably better if they think that so a fight does not break out,” Hordak explained, earning an eye-roll from Perfuma.

“Wro- TD is right. We should try to keep them as calm as possible. Adora and Swift Wind will take the north, Mermista, and Perfuma will take the south, Netossa, Spinerella, and Sea Hawk will take the east, and Bow and I will take the west.”

Entrapta’s hand shot up like a rocket, and her legs bounced enthusiastically.

“Yes, Entrapta.”

“Yes, what are was going to do with all the tech left behind by the Galactic Horde.”

“Don’t worry you’ll have all the access you want to all the tech, as long as you do not make weapons of war.”

“I make no promises!” 

A handful of people gave a fleeting glance to each other as Glimmer went on.

“Alright everyone, leave no stone unturned and no clone left to wander, and for the love of Etheria, only engage in combat if necessary.”

As Glimmer finished, everyone split up into their respective groups and left. Leaving Entrapta, Hordak, TD, Emily, Frosta, Scorpia, Catra, and Melog to their own devices.

They all sat in awkward silence. No one knew what to do or say, and the ones who did want to talk were too scared to. That was until Scorpia, the brave soul, decided to make conversation.

“So, how is everyone.”

Cricket noises.

“That soup was good.”

Louder cricket noises.

“Could someone please talk?”

Catra leaned forward in her seat.

“Alright, I will. Frosta, what are the princesses planning to do with us?”

“Why are you asking me?” Frosta shouted, an obvious nervousness rattling her speech.

“Well, if you haven’t noticed everyone here worked for the Horde at one point or another, except you.”

“Look, I genuinely don’t know. They probably want you all in one area so no one escapes justice.”

“So, we all are getting punished.”

“Yes.”

“What did I do!” TD exclaimed, more offended than frightened.

“Not you Wrong Hordak, you don’t count.”

“What are they going to do with us?” Entrapta inquired

“No clue.” Frosta shrugged

“Now, now, guys, the princesses are our friends, they're not going to think up anything too terrible.”

Speak for yourself.

__________________________________________________

By some miracle, the Princess Alliance managed to round up the clones, who were unexpectedly compliant, by the afternoon and get them safely settled in the camps. That was the easy part, the hard part was the bombardment of questions they received from their former enemies.

“Ok, Ok, Ok! Calm down, everyone. Yes, everyone here, except TD, is getting punished for their actions against Etheria, alright? Right now, we do not know what those punishments will be.”

“How is that going to work with Entrapta and me though? We are princesses that need to look after our kingdoms.”

“Don’t worry, you two are probably just getting a monetary fine. Everyone else’s punishment is undetermined at the moment, but I think it is time to make a decision.”

[meanderingstar]

Hi, I was wondering what you thought of Priory of the Orange Tree and if you're planning on reading the upcoming prequel?

I gave it 2.5-rounded-to-3 stars

honestly, I think the book was very mediocre. It took me a while to acknowledge that to myself because I wanted to like it very badly and was caught up in my own anticipation and hype, but I was very dissatisfied during my reread months ago. Please keep in mind, though, that these are purely my opinions; if I criticize something and someone else is able to overlook/enjoy it, it's fine.

Ultimately, I think the crux of my issue with the book is that a collection of interesting (albeit staple) ideas and in-depth research does not automatically translate to good storytelling.

Its pacing was abysmal - it was too long, it started too slowly and ended too fast, and it's genuinely bizarre that in a book with multiple kingdoms and a looming draconic apocalypse, we spend more than half the story following a single nation's daily court life + political intrigues that ultimately has no literal or thematic connection to the overarching plot and felt very disjointed and aimless as a result. It also wastes too much time on incessant filler descriptions about irrelevant details + scenarios that don't matter. When the grand finale against the Nameless One finally arrives, it lasts for less than a chapter and is resolved with embarrassing ease; I recently saw an ask that compared it to the final battle of Blood of Olympus, and that's a hilariously apt comparison. The book could and should have been trimmed down, because it could have been easily concluded in just half the page length.

It had an incredibly uneven and unbalanced focus: The West is given immensely more attention and pagetime than the East, which results in the latter seeming reactive, unimportant and vague in comparison. Many people have commented that dragons, despite being used to hype up the book pre-release, were minimally present in the story. The Pri/ory of the Or/ange Tree, despite giving the book its name, also plays an extremely negligible role in the story and barely receives any pagetime; it's also extremely ridiculous that a society of magic-wielding women whose entire purpose resolves around the Nameless One doesn't even fight in the final battle against him. Ead (I'll get to her in a bit, I have a lot to say) is the only one who gets a role. This is explained from an in-universe perspective, yes, but from a writer's perspective, my question is: what's the point of glorifying the Priory, of emphasizing the truth of Cleolind's history, if her legacy doesn't even matter to the plot beyond the actions of one member? I don't know if this is a criticism or a skeptical observation; take your pick.

The book also felt very flat, which was the most irritating aspect to me personally because I'm drawn to books based on their sheerness and the emotions they invoke, and while the language of this story was descriptive, the tone was dry, lifeless and monotonous. It had no sense of stakes and failed to invoke plausible surprise, tension or dread - characters having arguments is written with the exact same intensity as a world-ending apocalyptic battle. The Nameless One is an utterly lackluster villain: despite being told that he is terrifying, we don't feel it because the pov character (Ead) has a negligible emotional reaction; and he's defeated in less than a chapter with barely any difficulty.

Everything also felt far too convenient. The plot is full of ridiculous coincidences where characters just happen to stumble upon objects they need to find or people they need to meet - and so there's no actual sense of anticipation or active engagement. To give you some examples: Loth has to infect himself with a life-threatening, lethal plague to escape? No worries, it's just temporary, there's an easy cure that a group of people have vigorously hidden for 1000 years but he's given explicit directions to find. This results in a global, terminal plague seeming like nothing more than an aesthetical backdrop with no direct relevance to the story. A legendary sword has been missing for centuries, has been hunted for several queens to no avail, and is crucial to defeating the big bad dragon? No matter, it's conveniently connected to two characters despite no prior indication of such a relation, its vague location is almost instantly predicted and its precise location is directly fed to another character via a riddle that took her about two seconds to crack. Multiple nations with rivalries, cold wars, and deadly feuds are meant to ally together for an apocalyptic threat with no concrete evidence except for a random letter written by a woman who is regarded as a myth in one continent and almost completely unknown in another? It hardly matters because all of nations - I kid you not, ALL OF THEM - agree to ally with barely any conflict and without the traditionally established (as per our world and their own) pact of marriage. It's fine if these things happen once or twice; coincidences can be fun. But the plot of Pri/ory is not just laden with them, it's dependent on them. It would crumble without them.

Oh, and hardly anyone dies. A lethal plague, feuding kingdoms, fire-breathing dragons, a (poorly written) grand battle on the sea, and hardly anyone dies except for a few negligible side characters. Lmao.

The characters are stiff and abstract with little to no emotional resonance, at least not for me, which is a symptom of her descriptive but dry, overly formal tone, but also because 1) the author relied too heavily on broader concepts, aesthetics and superficial personalities to define and differentiate them, and 2) wrote a book with an incredibly uneven chapter focus between her povs. Her characters also had very similar internal voices: the vocabulary used and the way scenes/scenarios are described, for instance, are exactly the same in all their povs except certain instances with Niclays, despite their vastly different backgrounds and backstories.

I was very bored/dissatisfied with the pov characters in particular. Loth and Niclays were barely relevant to the plot and could easily be scrapped with little to no change to the overall story. Tane had the most potential: the combination of relentless ambition and haunting fear, the brief moment of greatness before the inevitable fall, and the grieving climb back to the sky was fascinating as a concept, although the dryness of the book obstructed its resonance. But she's constantly given the short end of the stick: she's barely present in the middle of the book and her relationships with people from the East are barely explored (eg: Susa's death, despite its importance to Tane's story, was utterly unimpactful to me because we barely knew Susa at all beyond what we are told about her relation to Tane). Even worse, although she's supposed to be one of the two main characters as a wielder of a jewel, her connection to the overarching story feels purely coincidental and disjointed. She had no arc of discovering the threat on her own the way characters from the West were afforded; instead, it's only due to her link to them that she becomes involved in the main plot at all. Loth tells her about the Nameless One, she and her dragon are used to heal Ead, and Ead explains the full situation and decides their course of action during the final battle. It's a massively uneven balance of narrative attention and respect, especially considering she's our only Eastern pov. This is repeated in the final battle, where she loses the sword which is retrieved by Ead; where she's unable to bear the Nameless One's voice even though Ead somehow knows how to respond to him. Tane's only able to properly succeed with Ead by her side; she's allowed no discovery or victory on her own.

Ead is probably the most irritating to me because 1) blatant authorial favoritism drives me bonkers, and 2) despite dominating this book's pagetime and clearly intended to be its main protagonist, she has no concrete personality to show for it. I loved her chapters the most and her pov the least: she, more than anyone else, is primarily defined by an Aesthetic because her narrative voice is incredibly flat and her characterization is vague and all over the place. The events that occur in her chapters are interesting in theory (although the writing remains deeply dry and unengaging) and she's the only character who's given the chance to Do Things, but that is even more aggravating because 1) she's simply not resonant or characterized enough to stand on her own and is therefore subsumed by her own story, and 2) several other characters get sidelined and disregarded to enhance her importance. She also had an incredibly static arc, imo: while her situation has changed by the end of the story (she is Prioress, in love with Sabran, saved the world, etc), her individual character has changed very little. And that's because her motivations are entirely external rather than internal: she reacts to the plot, but she's never actually affected by it. She has no journey of discovery and risk like Truyde (who was framed very weirdly by the book), arc of acceptance like Loth, or story of ambition, downfall and reclamation like Tane. I'm not saying any of these were written well, but the concepts were there and they could work for Ead as well. But she was, ultimately, stagnant. There's very little introspection, internal conflict or overarching goal for her as an individual; it's always in relation to the current plot, which arranges itself to accommodate her (eg: the moment there's a spark of tension between her love for Sabran and loyalty to the Pri/ory, it's revealed that the current Prioress wants to send her to Ungulus and murdered her mother. There's no tension or actual choice: leaving the Pri/ory to aid Virtudom is her only option, and it's conveniently the only moral one with no room for complexity or ambiguity. The isolationist plotline was also very arbitrary - we do not see Ead actually contemplating this policy in Inys, so her disagreement with Mita falls entirely flat; we don't see her contemplating it after she leaves the Pri/ory either, and so her proposal that she'll be able to "shape the future of the Pri/ory" to "ensure the stability of the new world" feels utterly random. Similarly, Ead becoming the Prioress at the end had no satisfaction or catharsis because 1) the Pri/ory barely played a role in the story, and 2) we only learn that Ead has always wanted to become a Red Damsel 150+ pages into the book. Nor does she consider becoming the Prioress/conducting a coup against Kalyba to save the Pri/ory until the queen of Lasia explicitly tells her that she'll be offered the position after they win. Compare it to Tane's overarching goal of becoming a dragonrider that drives so much of her arc, despite how flatly it's written; Ead is extremely scattered and lacking in comparison). Since she has the most pagetime and is clearly meant to be the protagonist, my irritation with her is more than the others.

I liked Sabran, though! Rulers burdened by their weight of their crowns, legacies built on dust and lies, selfhood devoured and finally reclaimed. However, when her arc reaches its pinnacle and she has to confront the truth of her family and her name ... the book falls flat. It seems like Sabran is barely affected by the reveal beyond "it will take time for me to come to terms with this". She argues for a few lines, and that's it. We're told that she's grappling with it, but we're not actually shown anything and it seems like she just moves on. And at the end, her proposal regarding abdication and succession change came from literally nowhere - she surprises Ead by saying "I have something to tell you" and surprises the reader as well because the last I checked, she was still struggling to accept the lies of her ancestry, and she led her people into war as their queen. Abdicating and removing the monarchial structure altogether is a huge decision that requires a lot of internal conflict and development that we're simply not shown; instead, we're merely informed of it once she's already made up her mind. It also feels extremely uncomfortable that the overhaul of an entire political system is limited to Sabran's own personal experience rather than, yk, an external exploration of how it affects the people who are being ruled. I also think the book would have also benefitted from her pov, at least for some specific scenes/a few specific chapters. Ead's perspective and observation has its own merit, yes, but I think it does Sabran a disservice to view her from a purely outside perspective and it lessens the impact of her arc. God knows she's more relevant to the actual story than Loth and Niclays.

One of the most potentially interesting concepts of the book to me was the intersection of history and mythmaking. However, I personally think it was executed quite shabbily? There is no proper build up or gradual uncovering or startling revelation: we are matter-of-factly informed of the truth right alongside the myth within the first 50 pages of the story. From an in-universe perspective, as mentioned before, Sabran, the descendant of Galian who staunchly believed in this lie all her life, is barely affected by the reveal. Nor is this publicly revealed to the nation as a whole; all we have is Sabran's promise that she'll eventually do it once the story is finished, so there's no proper collective impact, either. And to be really honest, how does this origin myth actually matter? I don't dispute the injustice that was inflicted on Cleolind's legacy on a personal level (although her true story is remembered and revered in the South) but how does this traditional gender dichotomy actually shape and impact the Bereth/net dynasty and Inysh society? Because as far as I can tell, it does not. Inys is a matrilineal queendom with no concept of gendered roles or customs with Cleolind as the sole, inconsistent exception. And frankly, in a world where gender is largely irrelevant, where misogyny doesn't exist, how does Cleolind get cast into such a traditionally gendered role (a "swooping waif" as Ead calls her) in the first place? I think Sh/annon wanted to explore patriarchal reconstructions of myths but also wanted a patriarchy-free society, and imo, those two ideas are pretty contradictory. Or maybe they're not, and it simply wasn't executed very well here. Either way, it ultimately felt scattered and illogical.

Religion and its differences across cultures is another major theme in the story, but I found its portrayal very surface-level. I'm agnostic, so take this with a grain of salt, but again, it feels as though Sh/annon mainly relied on aesthetics rather than exploring how it shaped her characters? Two instances where this was prominent pertained to Ead and Sabran. Sabran, by all accounts, is an extremely devout follower of her Faith and a devoted believer in the myth of Galian and Cleolind. Yet, like I mentioned, when she's actually confronted with the haunting reality of the truth, that her entire religion was a lie ... apart from a few lines here and there, she accepts it and moves on with mind-boggling ease. Another instance was Ead and her feelings for Sabran. Because honestly ... Sabran isn't just a queen of Virtudom, she is Virtudom. She is the descendant and the embodiment of a lie which she subscribes to entirely and which is the direct antithesis of the Pri/ory. Ead had to convert to remain at her court, she has called Ead's people and her beloved mentor "heretics" to her face, she commanded Ead to stop recounting the southern version of the story in favor of the Inysh version instead. The fact that Ead, a passionate follower of the Mother who holds the Inysh myth in contempt, falls so quickly for Sabran is simply bizarre. I might be forgetting, but I don't remember any guilt or anguish or fear or crisis of faith. Her love for Sabran seems entirely disconnected from virtually everything she is and everything she believes in. It could be an interesting dynamic, but the book didn't really explore or emphasize that. Maybe it's a personal issue for me, though.

That being said, I'm definitely reading ADO/FN. Despite Pri/ory's many flaws and lack of engagement, it was readable with some interesting (if staple) ideas and some genuinely beautiful lines/paragraphs; and I'm aware that it was Sh/annon's first book in the series and the genre of high fantasy. I'm also very partial to prequels, and from what I've seen regarding the world and characters of this one, it seems a lot more interesting and fairly promising. At the very least, I enjoyed her worldbuilding posts. Let's see.

Ik you sent me this weeks ago, sorry for answering so late! I'm planning on starting ADO/FN soon (probably tomorrow), so I figured I should probably write down my thoughts before I begin. Again, these are just my personal opinions and nobody has to necessarily agree or disagree!

[nekomimithoughts]

Please be aware of how absolutely important these posts are. They genuinely helped me, and they genuinely helped me move and grow into a place where I felt comfortable enough to meet kinky people irl, go to kinky clubs and parties and make friends there, and become a member of the kinky community myself. People who don't get it need people to explain it to them. Yeah even like you would explain to a child that their teacher doesn't sleep at school. It seems obvious to you based on your experience, but these people often ARE (metaphorical) children lacking that experience. The motivation behind those puritan takes is oftentimes fear, and no I'm not saying fear justifies harassing people over their kinks, but what I'm saying is that a willingness for communication from those in the know makes a real and tangible impact.

When I first started to engage with kink content, it made me feel absolutely terrified that people "think like that". No I wasn't able to differentiate between play and reality, but please understand that I had basically no way to tell the difference between play and someone who is a real threat, because I had almost no positive sexual experiences irl so having my boundaries overstepped was my internalised norm. In that context, asking someone to "rape" you (cnc), without the safe base of knowing for sure that the other person will stop when you need them to stop, sounds like, genuinely dangerous and unhinged. I could not imagine a level of trust that would enable anyone to play games like that. And I think it's easy to forget that there are a lot of people who don't have any other reference for sexual experiences than toxic rape culture. If nobody had hold out their hand to me and said "here, let me explain to you how that works", I don't think I would have grown the courage to go out to these clubs eventually, where I met some of the most amazing people I know, or found out that you feel so much safer there compared to mainstream clubs. But despite my very real cognitive dissonance that I didn't want to believe people to be "terrible immoral monsters" I would have been way too scared to just go and meet people at kink clubs irl out of the blue, alone, while I still cannot comprehend their lifestyle and still feel very much unsafe. I needed to make baby steps with online contacts first at that point.

Everyone who actually posts info like this about bdsm and kink culture safety instead of just fantasies without any such cautions, thank you so much. Your work and effort is important.

(But yes there are also a lot of people who simply act like assholes about kink and have no willingness to learn. I'm not defending them.)

tumblr puritans have never spoken to a kinky person and you can tell this because they talk about ~scary~ kinks like a child who thinks their teacher sleeps at school. they have a 1700s "actors cannot be trusted for they engage in obscene behavior" mindset. yes lil buddy people can in fact roleplay situations and then exit that roleplay and have different thoughts and actions 🤗 adding sex to performance does not actually cast a magic spell that turns you into a monster incapable of morality <3

[intersex-questions]

Hi, I wanted to know if you have any insight for a character I'm workshopping? I plan for him to get his powers from a sort of hormone stimulant that's supposed to give him your run-of-the-mill generic superstrength, but instead, because he happens to be intersex, it affects him differently.

The thing is, I'm no biologist. I considered not explaining it, but I don't want to perpetuate the idea that intersex is something "Mystical" or some form of plot-convenience.

I genuinely just want to write an intersex superhero, and I'd appreciate any perspective you might have on that, especially in regards to his powers.

(He's an intersex trans man if this helps)

Thank you so, so much

Sorry for taking so long to reply, thank you for waiting.

I think it's an interesting concept, but definitely something you should be very careful with (and I'm glad you're aware of that)!

First off, since you mention not wanting to have him come across as "mystical" (which I think is a very fair concern), some things you can do to mitigate this are

have other intersex characters in the same world and/or

have other characters with "similar" things also be linked to their powers (like having a character whose powers are contingent on them being transgender, somehow)

It makes him feel less like an outlier and the intersex status as something that only exists for powers but rather a fact of the world he is in that facts of life like being intersex or trans+ can intersect with superpowers. That's just the first ideas that come to MY mind though. People from any marginalized communities often are very split on portrayals sometimes like this, where some love to see a character whose identity contingency relates to something cool like superpowers, whereas others want to see characters who just exist and might feel like the only reason someone is writing a character with said identity contingency is in order to use them for something like superpowers. Unfortunately, you cannot ever please everyone with a character, and it is even harder to do so with characters of marginalized statuses, as people nitpick them even more. What you are doing is the right thing--being conscientious and asking for advice on how to avoid or mitigate problems in character portrayal.

On a worldbuilding level, I'd try to address things like

why does it affect him differently because he's intersex? how does it work differently? in what ways does it interact with his intersex variation?

what other people might be affected by this? is it only some intersex variations? (which I think makes the most sense, as it avoids it feeling like intersex people are like, "inherently different/special/mystical", and also just makes more "sense" biologically, although yes, it's still superpowers.) are there maybe other conditions that could have caused it for some other people, like hormonal problems that aren't necessarily an intersex variation?

I definitely think you need to explain it on some level, otherwise it does come across in that more negative "mystical" way you mention, and it doesn't make sense in a way that might be hard to suspend disbelief for. And the superpower stuff doesn't have to necessarily make sense--I'd just make sure that the intersex variation your character has is grounded in reality and be accurate in portraying that. You can make up whatever BS for superpowers though, in my opinion, since they're superpowers! How it engages with a body doesn't have to necessarily make that much sense, like how it doesn't really make any sense for someone to get superpowers from a radioactive spider, but the lore DOES explain that it just does transfer it to him, and it just Works because it Does.

I hope that gives you some feedback or ideas to go off of. If you have more questions let me know!

[dxsturbia]

Please

Just try to understand about me

I’ve been this lonely my entire life disassociated

I genuinely am in here talking to myself I run a blog to talk to myself because I am that Sick and I am disabled

But I’m also perfectly fine

I can hear you it’s not that

I know what’s wrong with me

I am getting help

My mental status needs to be known

Someone needs to understand that I will never be able to completely control my actions I have more than one personality

I know this isn’t in my head

I don’t like this but it’s yes

Everything else happened and I had to deal with false memory syndrome probably as a result of hypnosis done alone

I did experience that I did go through things

And I’m not okay and this is not necessarily healthy for me but I’m not gonna die and I really don’t want to be kicked out over this

I’m really tired of going through this alone but I need the element of risk as well this is as risk-taking behavior as it’s gonna get please trust me on that

This is illness just as much

Yelling that’s not help

I’m doing my best it is not simple in my case I don’t know about the others or how many others there are

I’m sorry I really am

Me I can’t deal with the anxiety I know

I am trying to use medication tho

Can someone please explain to me because all that’s happening to me is that I can smell other people smoke and that might be to the point what is happening

Why is this an emergency OK I feel like it’s pretty potent why is this an emergency what am I triggering because obviously I’m doing some thing that’s causing someone other than me harm while I engage in self harm apparently why is this an emergency

And not a private mental health issue

That was me making a choice I usually do take smaller doses

Truly what is going on that I don’t understand because if all that it is it’s just why can’t it be private if it can be innocuous

Why do I have to be so anxious about it I’m really sorry I don’t

I have no idea what you

[mimzy-writing-online]

You probably know this by now, I don't know if you keep up with Whumptober, but one of the prompts this year includes "blindness". I'm not blind but based on your posts about writing blind characters, and based on how I would feel if one of my disabilities were used as a whump prompt, I'm not super comfortable with it. I was wondering what your thoughts are on blindness being a Whumptober prompt.

(unironically and with feeling) thanks, I hate it.

Yes, I’m familiar with Whumptober, but I’ve never participated myself and I haven’t seen this year’s prompts.

Edit: I later did see the prompts and check out the blog. I think it's a good set of prompts and I look forward to all the promising content, especially since some of my favorite tropes are there. To be clear before you read this, I have no problem with Whumptober2021 or whump in general. This is not the first time blindness has been included for a list of whump prompts, and it won't be the last.

This post directed at the concept of "blindness" as a whump prompt and why I think it's a bad idea. The intended audience is individual writers thinking about future projects.

The timing of this is almost too perfect because I read a fanfic earlier this week that would meet that prompt exactly. Tags included whump, blindness, and angst with a happy ending. Now whump, hurt/comfort, and angst with a happy ending are tags I enjoy reading, but blindness as whump has a specific message to it.

To explain that message, I want to discuss what whump is. Many readers are already familiar with the genre, but I think taking the specific definitions and picking apart what it means and what expectations we carry when reading whump fanfiction

Urban Dictionary defines it as: taking a character and putting them through physical and/or mental torment and is typically followed by the same character being treated for their traumas. To indicate the characters place in the situation they’d typically be called a whumpee (the character being hurt/comforted), the whumper (the character that causes harm and trauma), and the caretaker (the character designated the helping/healing/comforting the whumpee).

Fanlore has a page for whump that explains it in depth, including where it started in fanfiction, examples of whump, and even a list of “popular targets” in different fandoms. (Warning: you might find yourself called out on the popular targets list)

“The term whump (or whumping) generally refers to a form of Hurt/Comfort that is heavy on the hurt and is often found in gen stories. The exact definition varies and has evolved over time. Essentially, whump involves taking a canon character, and placing them in physically painful or psychologically-damaging scenarios. Often this character is a fan favorite…”

To add to that, I think an important detail is the distinction Fanlore makes between hurt/comfort and whump:

“While some communities and fandoms may use whump as a synonym for hurt/comfort, there is still a recognition that whump refers to darker and more extreme scenarios. And there are still whump fics been written that have very little, or no comfort at the end of the story.”

The big appeal of hurt/comfort is getting to both explore the darker sides of pain and then experience the catharsis of being taken care of, of being supported by your loved ones as you recover from the trauma. The character is the proxy for experiencing those highs and lows while you yourself are safe at home.

I personally don’t read much/any whump without some h/c involved, but I’m happy there are stories out there for people who do enjoy it. I’m not here to judge what you like reading or what you do to your characters.

What I want is to express how blindness, my disability, used as a whump prompt personally makes me feel and what message it sends to me, to others, and how that message affects my daily life.

Whump undeniably involves watching a character suffer through something painful and traumatic.

My use of the word “suffer” is what I want you to focus on.

Vision loss can be painful and traumatic. I personally developed an anxiety disorder in response to vision loss. Others experience depression. For some it might result in relapsing into old, maladaptive coping mechanisms like drug use, self harm, or eating disorders.

A big part of my anxiety was how people reacted to my vision loss. It was a cause of their stress. They were worried because they genuinely believed I would never live a happy life without normal vision, and that my life would only be struggle and pain.

I recently saw an old friend who hadn’t heard about my vision loss. The conversation was awkward, but the worst part was how they reacted as though I had experienced an insurmountable tragedy. And even when I assured them I’m happy with my life, they clearly didn’t believe me. They acted like I was just lying or in denial.

I love that people want to empathize with my situation and ask themselves what they would do in my situation, but I hate when the conclusion they come to is something along the lines of “I could never do that, I’d be too miserable thinking about everything I lost, I’d never be able to do anything I enjoyed ever again.” But I did go blind. And I’m not miserable, I’m actually happy with the direction my life is going, and I still enjoy my hobbies, even if I engage with them differently.

I’m not suffering. My life didn’t end with vision loss. It’s not ruined, broken, or worthless.

I read a fanfic that was tagged with whump, blindness, and angst with a happy ending. A general synopsis of the plot: the whumpee had gone blind due to a curse. It was true love’s kiss that broke the curse. Even from the summary I knew it was going to end with whumpee being cured somehow and that I’d leave that fanfic vaguely dissatisfied no matter how good the rest of the fanfic was.

I can say this for the fanfic: the whumpee had already accepted that they would likely be blind for the rest of their life, but everyone around them was treating it as a tragedy that needed to be fixed, working tirelessly for a cure despite the whumpee’s protests that they didn’t have to.

It actually hit home to my personal experience.

I still left it dissatisfied with the ending. I might love curse fics in that fandom, and I love the “true love’s kiss” trope, but it wasn’t enough to distract me from the fact that: an actual person out in the world thought the best happy ending, maybe the only happy ending, would be if the character got their sight back.

(note: I clicked kudos and exited out of the story's page because no fanfic writer deserves unsolicited critique or hate, especially for content I consumed for free and at my own volition.)

Why read a story I knew would disappoint me?

Because blindness representation is so damn rare that I feel like I’m wandering in a desert, dying from thirst and desperate for that oasis. But sometimes that oasis is a mirage and the author is unintentionally telling you that your life is actually awful and you’ll never be fully happy like this. And that is a shit mentality to walk through life with.

I don’t appreciate blindness being a whump plot. I hate it. Hundreds (thousands?) of fanfictions featuring blind characters are about to enter the internet and the overall message is going to be “You poor thing! You must be in so much pain, you must be miserable! Who’s going to save you? Who’s going to comfort you? Wouldn’t it be terrible if there was no one in your life to take care of you? You poor helpless thing!”

And I feel objectified. I feel trivialized. The mirage in the desert is going to become a starch, empty room filled with dozens of water bottles, almost all of them poisoned. My representation is going to hurt me personally, and it’s going to reinforce that idea strangers have about how awful my life must be.

(I returned to school this past month, and every day I’m hesitant to tell someone I’m visually impaired because I don’t want to be treated differently. If I’ve managed to pass as sighted this whole time and then suddenly reveal “oh yeah, I’m visually impaired” I feel this instant silence, this pause of awkwardness as people suddenly question how they’re supposed to treat me. They treated me like a person, and now I’m something strange and unfamiliar.)

I’ve worked so hard to improve representation for blind people, to give internet strangers the exposure to a blind person they need to normalize blindness because I hope that if they’re ever so lucky as to meet a blind person, they’ll treat that person with respect. That hope that another person in the blind community will find a friend they feel comfortable and accepted with. I hope that I’ll meet people who accept my blindness as just another aspect of me (like being bisexual or gender fluid or a writer or a cat lover).

Please don’t turn me and my community into a caricature. Don’t erase everything I’ve worked for with this blog.

To be clear, this is not just me saying "I hate the cure trope" again. This is me saying "the purpose of whump is to painfully hurt your favorite character, and I hate that your idea of pain and suffering is my daily (wonderful) life."

[queenshelby]

Gypsy Bride (One Shot)

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Virgin!Reader

Warnings: Angst, Violence, Mention of Self Harm, Arranged Marriage, SMUT, Loss of Virginity

Total Words: 8,083 (both parts below)

Parts:

·      Part One – Husband and Wife

·      Part Two – Consummating Finally

Notes: I will be writing another One Shot which will be called ‘Goodbye Marie’. This One Shot will follow on from this story but can also be read on its own.

Part One

It was 9am on a cold Saturday morning. You had been awake for several hours already and barely managed to get any sleep at all the night before.

It was your wedding day and you were nervous to say the least. This was a wedding you didn’t want, a marriage doomed from the beginning.

Your father had recently taken over the business of importing heroine into the United Kingdom from his brother who, due to unfortunate circumstances arranged by your father, was shot during police interference.

In your culture, it was customary to only form alliances with people you trust, mainly family. But, since you and your mother were both only children as a result of a curse impaled on your family decades ago, your family was much smaller than other gypsy families.

In cases like this, alliances were formed by expanding family through marriage.

You had no say in the matter and your father was determined to expand his business through such alliance.

So, today, you were to marry Thomas Shelby, the leader of the Peaky Blinders.

You knew that Thomas Shelby was shipping heroine to the United States and had recently lost his supply from the Chinese. The deal your father was offering Thomas was lucrative and allowed the Shelby Family to reinstate most of their fortune which they had lost in the stock market crash earlier this year.

Your father, however, did not trust Thomas Shelby and insisted on a traditional bond between the families.

Thomas Shelby agreed and, since he was the only unmarried Shelby man of age, it was him, a man almost twice your age, who was going to be your husband.

You never met Thomas Shelby and you wondered what he was like.

You heard terrible things about him and you knew that he was both, a politician and a gangster. You knew that he was involved in drug trafficking, running brothels and killings. He was no better than your father who you despised.

You always wanted to turn a leaf on your life, get away from the illegal dealings and make an honest living. But, this dream of yours was now shattered. You were about to marry into the most notorious gangster family in the Small Heath and Birmingham area.

In the weeks leading up to your wedding, you considered ending it. This was the only way out. But then you met a man who was a priest. Every day you remembered his words. There was a purpose for you, you just may have not discovered it yet.

You never believed, but turned to God for advice after your encounter with the priest. You even began to volunteer at the local church community hall to help you keep your mind occupied.

After weeks of volunteering, you requested to be married to Thomas at the church. The priest was reluctant but agreed after you begged for long enough. Your request was granted.

And there you were, in the back rooms of the small church in Birmingham, preparing for your wedding.

As you stepped into your white wedding gown, tears were building up in your eyes. You were not ready for this, but you had to be strong.

You wiped your tears away with the white cotton tissue your mother had given you and pinned up your hair.

A maid was assigned to assist you, but you enjoyed to do your own hair and makeup.

Shortly after you sent your maid away and while you were applying your mascara, you heard a knock on the door.

You hoped that it was your mother, wishing to provide you with emotional support, but, to your surprise, it was a woman who you had never met.

She had dark brown hair and dark eyes. She was attractive and well dressed.

‘I am Polly Gray’ the woman said as she walked into your room.

‘I am Y/N’ you said nervously.

‘I figured’ she said with a laugh as she handed you her flask of whiskey.

‘Drink up Love, I think you need it, you are about to marry my nephew’ Polly said sheepishly as she stepped behind you and tied up your dress.

‘Thank you’ you said before taking a large sip from the flask.

‘You didn’t want your maid to help you with this?’ Polly asked surprised as she wiped away some of the smudged make up beneath your eyes which were still wet and teary.

‘No. I don’t like to appear weak in front of strangers’ you explained.

‘Showing weakness can sometimes be your strength Y/N’ Polly said before she asked you how old you were while she proceeded to help you with your make up.

‘I am 20’ you responded, your hands shaking.

’20?’ Polly said as she stopped what she was doing and sat down across from you.

‘Did you think I was older?’ you asked.

‘Your parents are older than me, so yes, Thomas and I did not expect you to be so young’ Polly said before she lid herself a cigarette.

‘Do you think that Thomas will be disappointed?’ you asked.

‘No Love. Let me tell you something about Thomas’ Polly said before taking a pause.

‘He has not shown any genuine interest in a woman since his late wife passed away. Whilst I disliked her, she was the only woman he ever loved. He didn’t choose you and he will probably not love you, but he will provide for you and ensure your safety. He expects loyalty in return, nothing else. So long as you are loyal, you do not need to worry about disappointing him nor do you need to be afraid of him’ Polly explained, causing you to feel some relief.

Despite the fact that you had never met this woman, she was able to provide you with the reassurance you needed.

‘Now, let’s hurry’ Polly said, standing up and finishing your make up.

‘Thank you, Ms Gray’ you said as she took your hand and smiled at you.

‘Please, call me Polly. After all, you will be family soon’ she said just before she disappeared to the hall.

Not long after Polly had left and you finished getting ready, your father arrived.

‘It’s time Y/N’ he said impatiently, not even bothering to compliment you.

You hooked into your father’s arm as he walked you towards the hall.

The Church was packed. You had many guests, mostly gypsies from different families.

Your heart sank into your stomach as you observed your future husband waiting for you at the altar.

He was wearing an elegant navy-blue suit which matched his deep blue eyes.

His hair looked immaculate and he had his hands crossed in front of him.

He was very attractive and you could barely believe that he was in his late thirties already.

Despite this, shivers ran down your back as you approached the altar. He showed no emotion at all. There was no smile on his face. In fact, there was no expression at all, just coldness.

As you took your place across from him, you observed him gazing over you for a moment, almost like he was assessing you. But his expressions didn’t change. There was no warmth.

You weren’t sure whether he liked what he saw or whether he was disappointed, possibly by the fact that you were much younger than he had expected or perhaps he preferred a different hair colour or larger breasts.

There was an awkward silence between you as you both starred at each other until, finally, the priest began to speak.

‘We are gathered here in the presence of God, family, and friends to unite Thomas Shelby and Y/N Y/LN in holy matrimony’ the priest went on to say before speaking a prayer, as per your request.

Then, it was time for the all-important question.

‘Do you Y/N Y/LN take Thomas Shelby to be your lawfully wedded husband?’ the priest asked.

‘I do’ you said nervously, starring at Tommy.

‘’And do you Thomas Shelby take Y/N Y/LN to be your lawfully wedded wife?’ the priest asked.

‘I do’ Tommy said, his hands still interlinked with each other.

‘Then, by the power vested in me by God, I pronounce you husband and wife. You may now kiss the bride’ the priest said, but Tommy made no attempt to kiss you.

‘We might save that one for later, ey?’ Tommy said as he saw the nervousness in your face. You responded with nothing but a simple nod as you reached for his hand.

‘Are we done here?’ Tommy asked before he obliged and took your hand into his as you both stepped down from the altar and walked towards the exit of the Church.

Your families and guests were cheering as the Church bells began to ring.

You couldn’t help it but feel apprehensive and thought that, if the reception was going to be as awkward as the ceremony, this would be a long night.

Outside the church, you and your families posed for a picture before Tommy took you to his car.

There were no white horses and carriages as you had imagined on your wedding day. There was nothing romantic about this at all.

There was an awkward silence as you stepped inside his Silver Bentley. He started the car without saying a word.

You didn’t know what to say yourself and couldn’t even bare to look at him.

Just before you arrived at the reception venue, he looked over to you.

‘I am sorry you’ve been made to do this’ Tommy said, just as he stopped the car.

‘So am I’ you said as you pushed open the car door and walked inside. The weather was dreadful and you didn’t wait for Tommy.

The reception was barely a reception at all. There was nothing but business talk and your husband ignored you for the entire evening.

By that time, you were certain that he disliked you. He didn’t want this marriage any more than you did.

After several hours of easing your pain with champaign while you engaged into meaningless conversations with Arthur Shelby’s wife Linda, Tommy told you that it was time to go home.

You couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like, your new home.

You were hoping for it to be big enough so that you didn’t have to see your husband very often and endure this awkwardness and silence between you.

The drive home was as silent as the drive to the reception venue. Tommy didn’t speak a word to you, again.

At least this gave you time to think about the task ahead.

Your mother had spoken to you about marriage and what it entails.

She had also spoken with you about consummation of your marriage, which was something you were nervous, almost fearful, about.

Whilst, in your opinion, Tommy was very attractive, you have never been with a man before and you wanted your first time to be with someone you loved not someone you just met.

You told your mother exactly that, but she explained to you how important it is to fulfill your wifely duties and keep your husband happy from the beginning and always thereafter.

The truth was that you were afraid of the pain it will entail. You knew it was going to be painful and it wasn’t as if you didn’t already have to endure enough pain on your wedding day. Your mother explained to you that you would get used to it, the pain will fade and, eventually, it becomes nothing more than a chore.

As you finally stepped out of the car and inside Tommy’s house, you were emotionally prepared for what was to come and were probably drunk enough too.

The house was larger than any other house you had ever seen. You couldn’t believe that Tommy was living in the house by himself.

Tommy took the time to personally show you the house and introduce you to the maids. That was probably the most he had spoken to you all day.

It felt somewhat surreal. This is where you were going live now, with your husband, a total stranger.

Tommy told you that you could use every room in the house as you pleased but that you were not allowed in his office or his bedroom.

‘Your bedroom? Will we not be sharing a bedroom?’ you asked, causing Tommy to chuckle.

‘No Y/N, we will not be sharing a bedroom’ Tommy said before showing you your bedroom. You were relieved to say the least.

‘You can redecorate it if you like’ Tommy said as he opened the door.

Your bedroom was large, with a study desk and your own bathroom attached to it.

It was well decorated and felt warm and welcoming.

‘Thank you’ you said turning around, causing Tommy to nod.

‘I have some work to do now. If you need anything, please call for one of the maids’ Tommy said as he excused himself.

‘Goodnight Thomas’ you said, receiving no response.

After Tommy left, you changed into your nightgown and lied down on your bed. But, there was no way that you could fall asleep just yet. You still felt uncomfortable and out of place.

After about thirty minutes, you decided to get up and make yourself a cup of tea. You weren’t used to be served by maids and enjoyed doing things for yourself.

As you wandered through the house towards the kitchen, you heard noises coming from one of the hallways.

Intrigued, you followed the hallway and observed that there was light shining from the reading room which was also where the noises came from.

You carefully approached the room, glancing in from the distance.

This when you saw Tommy, still wearing his suit while being intimate with the young blonde maid Marie to whom you were introduced earlier that evening.

Keeping quiet, you couldn’t help but stare at them.

Marie was being bent over the big oak study desk while Tommy was behind her, thrusting into her harshly and almost emotionless.

He held onto her hips tightly while she was moaning, digging her nails into the solid oak.

After five minutes of observation, you had enough and quietly walked to the kitchen where you boiled the kettle and made yourself a tea.

‘Mrs Shelby, I could have done this for you’ Francis said, startling you as you poured the hot water into the teapot.

‘That’s quite alright Francis. In fact, I enjoy being in the kitchen. Perhaps, if Thomas allows it, I could cook dinner one night?’ you said, waiting for some kind of approval.

‘That would be lovely Mrs Shelby’ Francis said before you excused yourself.

As you returned to your room you couldn’t help but think about Tommy and Marie. By no means did you blame him. But you also couldn’t help it but wonder why he didn’t take any desire in you. Did he rather want to sleep with his maid than his wife?

Was it that he disliked you or was it that he was trying to be kind, not making any advances towards you because you were forced into this marriage.

The next morning you woke at 7am after spending most of the night pondering about your future as Thomas Shelby’s wife.

After you got dressed, you walked downstairs and joined your husband for breakfast.

‘Good Morning’ you said as you sat down.

‘Good Morning Y/N’ Tommy said, glancing up from his newspaper for a moment to make eye contact with you.

‘Have you slept alright?’ he then asked.

‘Yes, thank you. The bed is very comfortable’ you said shyly.

‘That’s good’ Tommy said before continuing to read the paper.

This was all you spoke as you quietly ate your breakfast.

The next few weeks were just as quiet.

Tommy ignored you for the most part and continued to engage in sexual encounters with Marie. The worst of it was that he didn’t even bother to hide it from you.

Sometimes they would do it in the reading room, sometimes in one of the guest rooms and occasionally even in the stables.

You couldn’t help it but ask Francis about her and Francis told you that she had only been employed by Tommy for the past eight weeks. She was French and her breakfast was terrible. Clearly, she had other talents which kept your husband happy.

Just as you were in the reading room yourself, looking for a particular book, Tommy approached you.

‘Do you play chess?’ he asked.

‘Do I play chess?’ you asked surprised, closing your book. He didn’t talk to you for weeks and this was the question he wanted asked you? You were in disbelieve.

‘Yes, do you play?’ Tommy asked again as he poured himself a glass of Whiskey.

‘Yes, I do, would you like a game?’ you asked.

‘Yes, I’ve been learning. It’s somewhat boring but also extremely satisfying’ Tommy said, making you laugh.

‘It’s strategic, that’s probably why you enjoy it’ you said while you brushed your hair out of your face.

‘Please’ Tommy said as he turned around the chessboard on the coffee table, indicating for you to make your first move and begin the game.

You made your move and noticed that Tommy’s eyes wandered over to you rather than the chessboard, causing you to blush.

You played for about twenty minutes and began to make conversation, which is when you realised that Tommy had been observing you and taken an interest in what you might like.

‘I am thinking about getting another race horse’ Tommy said. ‘Perhaps you could help me choose one’ he added.

‘Me? Choose a horse?’ you asked surprised.

‘Yes. I noticed that you have taken an interest in the horses and I would like you to accompany me to the upcoming auction’ Tommy said. ‘It would be in my best interest to attend this event with my wife’ he added to justify his request.

‘I would love to attend with you’ you said with a smile.

‘There will be other members of parliament attending the auction and there will be a function afterwards. You will need to buy yourself a dress. Elegant, but simple’ Tommy said as he handed you some money.

‘Alright’ you said before moving your queen. Tommy clearly hasn’t been paying attention to the game.

‘Checkmate’ you grinned.

‘Well well, you just beat me at chess’ Tommy said as Francis walked in to the room with some tea for you.

‘Your wife is a smart woman Mr Shelby’ Francis said, giving you a wink.

‘I’ve noticed. Now would you excuse me, I have some more work to do’ Tommy said, smiling at you for the very first time.

The next day you drove into town to buy yourself a dress. By that time you had already done your research on the horses available for auction and the one you had your eye on was called ‘Emerald’.

It won two races quite recently and was slightly more expensive than the budget Tommy had given you.

With that in mind, you considered it to be fitting to purchase an emerald green dress, elegant but yet simple, just as Tommy had requested.

Over the next week, leading up to the auction, Tommy and you played chess almost every day. He hated losing and was determined to eventually beat you.

Even before the auction, he demanded a game and you made sure that you were ready for him.

A gasp escaped Tommy as you entered the reading room wearing your emerald green dress.

‘Is that alright for the auction?’ you asked shyly, wanting to ensure that Tommy approves of the dress.

‘Just missing one small detail Mrs Shelby’ he said as he handed you a box covered with black satin.

You opened the box and, inside, there was a diamond necklace with matching earrings.

‘Thomas’ you said, being stunned by the pieces of jewellery.

‘You will need to fit in Y/N. After all, you are my wife’ Tommy said as you turned around and he placed the neckless onto your neck.

After you looked at yourself in the mirror, you and Tommy played a quick game of chess before making your way to the car and drive to the auction.

At the auction, Tommy introduced you to everyone as his wife but, as usual, he kept his gestures to a minimum. He held your hand once, maybe twice, for show.

You were well spoken and engaged with the other politicians’ wives. The topics that were spoken about were of no real interest to you, but you played along for Tommy’s sake.

Later, at the function, you mingled with the same women while Tommy engaged in pollical discussions with members of parliament and judges.

You couldn’t wait for the night to be over, you were bored beyond belief.

Finally, Tommy told you that it was time for you to leave. He had further business to attend to at the Garrison and you requested that he take you along.

He reluctantly agreed and, as you arrived, the Garrison was packed with drunk men.

You were glad to see Polly and Ada again as you arrived and engaged into conversations with them before their business meeting with Tommy.

But just as Tommy turned his back on you and gave some instructions to Arthur, you were approached by another patron.

‘Good Day Love’ he said, not receiving any reaction from you.

‘Woman, I am talking to you’ he said harshly after you tried hard to ignore him.

‘Sir, please leave me alone’ you said patiently as, all of a sudden, he grabbed your wrist harshly.

‘Love, I can pay well you know. So, whatever offer you have for tonight, I will double it. It is rare to find a whore as pretty and clean as you’ the man said.

‘Get your hand of me. I am not a whore’ you said as, all of a sudden, you heard Tommy approach.

‘Ay, this is my wife you are talking to’ Tommy said harshly, pointing his gun at the man.

‘Mr Shelby’ the man said with a scared voice.

‘Now apologise to her and then fuck off before I blow your head off’ Tommy said angrily.

‘My apologies Mrs Shelby, I didn’t know’ the man said with embarrassment, his pants wet before he made a run for the door.

‘Did he just piss himself?’ Arthur said with laughter as he gave Tommy a nudge.

‘Fucking hell…this is no place for woman like you Mrs Shelby’ Arthur laughed but you weren’t in the mood for jokes. The man had grabbed your wrist harshly and you were somewhat scared by his determination.

‘Are you alright?’ Tommy asked, his hands running over your upper arms.

‘I am fine Tommy. I am sure it was just a misunderstanding’ you smiled.

‘I don’t care. No one speaks to my wife like this’ he said.

‘Now let’s get you a drink, ey? What would you like?’ Tommy asked.

‘Whiskey please’ you responded.

‘Irish or Scotch?’ Tommy asked.

‘Irish’ you responded.

‘Well, we have something in common then’ Tommy said with a smile as he asked you to join him for the business meeting.

‘Perhaps we are yet to discover a lot about each other’ you said, causing Tommy to chuckle.

‘Most people do this before they get married’ Tommy said as you followed him.

You stayed at the Garrison for another hour before you made your back to the house.

The drive was much more pleasant than before and, even though you may never be lovers, you had now found things to speak about with each other.

‘Will you have another glass of whiskey with me?’ you asked Tommy as you arrived at the house and he handed Francis both of your coats.

‘I suppose why not’ Tommy said as he walked you to the living room.

Tommy poured each of you a glass of whiskey before sitting down on the lounge next to you.

‘I enjoyed today, thank you’ you said.

‘And I enjoyed your company. You did well with all of these arrogant bastards’ Tommy smirked, causing you both to laugh.

‘You don’t like politicians much do you?’ you asked.

‘No, I fucking hate them’ Tommy smirked, causing you to laugh again. After all, he was one of them.

You talked about politics and horses for quite some time until you changed the topic.

‘Tommy?’ you said all of the blue, before pausing.

‘Yes?’ he asked curiously.

‘It is none of my business but, do you love her?’ you asked.

‘Love who?’ Tommy responded.

‘Marie. I know you have been sleeping with her’ you said.

‘No, I do not love her. I do however enjoy her company, although not so much for making conversation’ Tommy said with a chuckle.

‘Do you enjoy my company?’ you asked shyly, looking down at your glass.

‘In a different way, I do’ Tommy said.

‘In a different way, but not in the way a husband enjoys the company of his wife’ you said.

‘Listen, Y/N, neither of us have asked for this marriage. It was your father who insisted and the business between me and your father is extremely lucrative as you know. If I would have known that you are…’ Tommy said, and before he could finish his sentence, you interrupted him.

‘That I am so young?’ you asked before pausing, causing Tommy to sigh. ‘If you would have known, you would have forgone the deal?’ you added.

‘I would have asked your father to consider a more suitable match, a trusted man of mine closer to your age’ Tommy said.

‘Well, it is what it is Tommy. There is no turning back now’ you said, taking another sip of your Whisky, before standing up.

‘I think Marie is waiting for you’ you smirked before excusing yourself.

As you walked to your room, tears were running down your face. You couldn’t help it but, for some reason, you wanted Tommy to be a husband to you.

Were you falling in love with him, the man you were being forced to marry? Are you asking for the impossible? Being loved by a man like Thomas Shelby?

You were devastated by thoughts that he would rather be with his maid than with his wife and wondered why he didn’t see you the way you now wanted to be seen.

First fearful about being with him, you now wanted to be with him and you certainly didn’t want him to be with your maid.

As you went to bed that night, you remembered what your mother had told you about keeping your husband happy in order to achieve a fruitful marriage.

You also remembered that, when your mother and father were in disagreement about matters or your mother was worried about your father’s indiscretions, she would add a little spark to their marriage with a nice meal and paying her wifely duties.

With that in mind, you decided to take things further the following week after Tommy returns from his business trip.

Part Two

‘Good Evening Mr Shelby, how as your trip?’ Francis asked as Tommy arrived back home.

‘Fine, thank you’ Tommy said, handing Francis his coat while Marie grabbed Tommy’s bag.

‘Mrs Shelby prepared dinner sir’ Francis said.

‘She did?’ Tommy asked surprised.

‘Yes, sir. She is waiting for you in the dining room’ Francis said.

‘Do we have guests?’ Tommy asked, causing Francis to shake her head.

‘No sir, just you and Mrs Shelby and she said that you do not wish to disturbed’ Francis said, causing Tommy ponder before he excused Francis, allowing her to finish some of her chores.

‘Will I see you later Thomas?’ Marie asked, causing Tommy to nod before walking to the dining room.

As he entered the dining room, he saw you sitting at the table wearing a beautiful but yet revealing black satin dress and the diamonds he had bought for you to wear at the auction.

Your hair was open, long curls falling over your shoulder.

You were wearing dark eye shadow and red lipstick and your skin smelled like musk and flowers.

‘Good Evening Thomas’ you said with a smile.

‘Is this a special occasion?’ Tommy asked, causing you to shake your head.

‘No, I just thought I would cook something nice for my husband’ you smirked before calling Marie for some wine and telling her that she may serve dinner.

‘You know she will probably burn whatever you prepared’ Tommy said jokingly. He knew that you were very well aware that serving food and food preparation wasn’t one of her chores.

‘I am sure she’s got other qualities’ you said cheekily.

As you talked and ate together, you discovered that Tommy had a pretty bad week.

Amongst other things, he told you about a man called Mosley whom he had met in London two days ago and problems with one of the judges. After that, you moved on to discuss more pleasant matters.

‘Would you like a game of chess and a whiskey to end the day?’ you asked as hours had paused.

‘Alright’ Tommy said and it wasn’t until you got up from your chair and walked with him towards the reading room that he saw the entirety of your dress, which complimented your curves.

‘You look beautiful in this dress Y/N’ Tommy said, not sure what else to say in that moment.

‘We have been married for 6 weeks now and this is the first time you have complimented me’ you said with a smile.

‘I didn’t consider it to be appropriate’ Tommy said as he sat down next to you, handing you a glass of whiskey.

‘I am your wife Tommy’ you smiled. ‘Do you not find me attractive?’ you asked.

‘I do. But, considering the circumstances surrounding our marriage and your age, making any advance towards you would have interfered with my conscience ‘Tommy said.

‘And I am grateful for that Tommy. But, whilst I can be in a loveless marriage, I cannot be in a marriage without any emotion at all’ you said suggestively.

‘So, what do you suggest?’ Tommy asked.

‘I suggest that we consummate our marriage and give it the chance it deserves’ you said, causing Tommy to chuckle.

‘Consummate our marriage, ey?’ Tommy said. He was surprised by your proposal.

‘Yes, unless you rather fuck your maid than your wife’ you said sheepishly and with a smirk. It was clear to Tommy that you were being sarcastic and he began to like this mischievous side of you.

‘Well then Mrs Shelby, shall we go to my room or yours?’ Tommy smirked.

‘Mine’ you said determined as you stood up and offered him your hand.

As you and Tommy arrived at your bedroom, Tommy closed the door behind you while you crossed to the bed to turn on the bedside lamp.

The light was just enough to show him all that he needed to see and no more than you wished to reveal.

Tommy walked over towards you as you stood next to the bed.

Leaning in from behind you, he swept your hair over one of your shoulders and pressed a kiss against the back of your neck while one of his hands dragged the zipper of your dress down tooth by tooth.

Slipping his hands beneath the fine satin, Tommy pushed the dress downward and letting it fall to the ground.

Taking a step back, he admired you, studying every tiny detail of your entire body.

Watching you turn, Tommy reached out and a smile flitted across his lips when you slid your hand into his before stepping up flush against him.

‘You haven’t even kissed your wife yet’ you said shyly before leaning in and pressing your lips on Tommy’s lips.

His lips were soft and tasted like Whiskey. He was a good kisser and it wasn’t long until his tongue found its way into your mouth.

The kiss soon became urgent and heated while Tommy’s hands moved behind your back, unclipping your bra. It landed on the floor right next to your dress.  

His hands were urgently exploring every part of you and you could feel his erection press against you.

As he ran his hands over your firm breasts and breathed deeply, it was clear to you now that he desired you.

‘Tommy?’ you said with a hasty voice as his hand wandered lower, wanting him to slow down. Your heart was pounding by that time and some apprehension had set in.

‘Yes’ Tommy said while he took off his shirt, letting it join your dress in holy matrimony.

‘I haven’t done this before’ you said with some embarrassment as you rested your hands on his bare chest while your eyes were exploring his tattoos.

‘You have never had sex before?’ Tommy asked with slight worry in his voice, causing you to bite your lip and shake your head.

‘Are you sure you want to do this tonight? Tommy asked, running his hand gently over your cheek.

‘Yes Tommy, I am sure. I want to be yours’ you said.

‘You are mine regardless Y/N’ Tommy said with a slight laugh as he caressed your face. In his mind, he had already claimed you. You were his wife.

‘Please Tommy, I want you’ you said with a smile.

‘Alright, I will take it slow then but you must tell me if I hurt you’ Tommy said concerned, causing you to nod. It’s been over 20 years since he had been anyone’s first and this was not something he expected having to encounter again.

Tommy’s touch became gentler almost immediately and you loved the softness of his fingertips on your skin.

His fingers were exploring every corner of your body, for now steering clear from your most intimate parts, while your tongues danced in sync with each other.  

After some more passionate kisses, you let your eyes rove over the expanse of his chest and down the ridges in his torso, which was an area of his body you didn’t dare to look at until then.

You bit the corner of your lip shyly as you pushed the zipper of his pants down with a single fingertip, the fingers of your other hand relieving the button.

You almost let out a soft laugh when Tommy let out a sigh of relief as the pressure lightened considerably around his bulge which was now hidden only behind the thin fabric of his briefs.

Even through the fabric, he seemed huge and for a moment you doubted your decision but then you looked up at him and every ounce of niggling doubt was erased from your mind as his blue eyes gazed into yours.

Tommy stepped out of his shoes and let his trousers nose-dive to the ground as he stepped forward, guiding you back to the bed that stood center stage in the gigantic room.

Brushing his fingertips across your cheek, Tommy rubbed the curve of your side and laid you gently back on the bed.

‘I think I got lucky, having such a beautiful wife’ Tommy said as he lowered himself onto the bed and before exchanging another passionate kiss with you.

Tommy’s lips soon made their way from your mouth to your neck and then over to your breasts.

Every little kiss or touch made your heart gallop within your chest, your blood pounding through your veins, soaring through your body at speeds greater than that of light or sound, or so it felt.

Brushing your fingers through Tommy’s hair as he explored your body, you caressed his cheek and stared down at him, your hips rising subconsciously as Tommy teased the soft skin of your abdomen with tiny kisses and nibbles.

There was a fleeting moment of second guessing when Tommy’s fingertips edged beneath the lacey edge of your panties but as soon as he kissed the skin he revealed it was gone.

Your hips were again rising as Tommy removed the scrap of dark fabric from the apex of your thighs to reveal a silky smooth mound of flesh and the now engorged rosebud of your clit.

Hearing him gasp at the sight, you blushed but followed it with a moan as Tommy leaned down and kissed it once, the length of his tongue sweeping out to take a taste of your secret delicacy.

This was something you didn’t expect. What on earth was he doing?

As you were completely naked before him and he was so close to your most intimate parts, you felt more vulnerable than you had ever been in your entire life but you didn't regret it.

Everything that Tommy did to you in that moment made you jump out of your skin in the most wonderful ways possible.

After he gently ran his tongue over your slit a few times, Tommy told you to relax as he pulled gently at your leg and you slowly let them fall open.

You tried hard not to tense up and, even though you didn't know what he was planning on doing, what he did so far felt good so you were willing to give all of yourself to him.

‘That’s it’ Tommy said after you took a deep breath and relaxed your body.

Tommy took this moment to dip his tongue inside of you gently, causing a loud moan to escape you.

His tongue was skilled, moving in and of you slightly while his hands pressed your legs apart gently.

Tommy then moved his tongue over your clit, flicking it slightly and causing you to make a high pitch noise of some sort.

‘Tommy’ you moaned at the sensation. It was almost too intense.

You closed your eyes as waves of pleasure coursed through your body while Tommy kept pleasuring you with his tongue.

When Tommy's fingers finally brushed against your entrance to join his tongue, you gasped and jumped.

‘Tommy’ you moaned but were also slightly worried about what he might do with his fingers.

Tommy’s erection was throbbing from within his briefs but he knew very well that he would have to take it very slow. As much as he wanted to be inside of you right then and there, he was aware that there was some preparation to be done.

With trembling fingers Tommy gently spread your virgin lips open and let his finger brush against your clit while his tongue continued to run through your folds.

He heard her sharp intake of breath from you when he guided his finger inside of you carefully while his tongue played with your clit.

By that time, you were soaked and he could feel the juices coating his finger.

As he pushed his finger deeper inside of you, he could hear your soft cry of surprise and you arched your back up suddenly.

‘Just relax’ Tommy said as he could feel no resistance inside of you.

He pressed you gently back to the bed and dropped more kisses against your virgin lips before circling against your clit again.

You closed your eyes tight and held your body completely still.

‘Tommy, oh god’ you moaned as he moved his finger in and out of you slowly, over and over again.

You were tight around his finger and had no idea how he would possibly fit his cock inside of you.

It wasn’t long until you moved your hips upward, showing Tommy that you were enjoying what he was doing to you.

Tommy sucked hard at your clit, loving it with his tongue as he slid a second finger inside of you carefully and started sawing it in and out.

‘Tommy’ you cringed at the pressure, causing him to slow down again and holding his fingers steady until the pressure eased.

When he could feel you relax, he began moving his fingers in and out of you again and it wasn’t long until you felt a very unfamiliar tightening in your belly.

‘Tommy, oh my god, please don’t stop’ you begged as your breathing started coming out heavier.

Unlike you, Tommy knew that you were close to having an orgasm and he increased the pressure of his tongue around your clit while continuing to move his fingers in and out of you.

Still unsure about what was happening inside of you, you grabbed onto the sheets as, suddenly, a feeling of ecstasy rushed through you.

‘Tommy, fuck’ you screamed, not being able to control yourself while your orgasm washed over you.

Tommy couldn’t help but smile against your flesh as you coated his fingers in your juices.

After you had come down from your high, Tommy slowly pulled his fingers out of you and moved up the bed to kiss you passionately.

You could taste yourself on Tommy’s lips. It was strange, but you enjoyed it.

‘I don’t know what just happened. I hope the maids didn’t hear me’ you said totally embarrassed as your lips drifted apart.

‘If they didn’t then they are clearly deaf’ Tommy laughed.

‘Oh my god, how embarrassing’ you said. ‘I didn’t expect…’ you said, and before you could finish your sentence, Tommy interrupted you.

‘You didn’t expect it to feel that good?’ Tommy asked, causing you to shake your head.

‘Well, Mrs Shelby, I will make you feel good every day from now on’ Tommy grinned before kissing you again.

‘Is that a promise Mr Shelby?’ you asked in between more passionate kisses while your hand moved in between his legs and beneath his briefs.

‘It’s a promise’ Tommy said as he let out a small groan as you began to stroke his hard cock.

He was thicker than you had expected and your nervousness returned in an instant as he took off his briefs.

‘We can wait if you want’ Tommy said as you continued to stroke his hard cock with your hand.

‘No Tommy, I want to feel all of you’ you said with a gentle voice before Tommy ran his hands lovingly over your legs, pushing them apart all the way, much further than he did earlier.

You took in a deep breath as you gazed into Tommy’s blue eyes while he rested himself in between your legs.

He smiled and kissed you softly. You knew that, what was about to follow would hurt. Nonetheless, you wanted him inside of you so badly.

‘We will take it slow, alright?’ Tommy said with a reassuring voice.

You brought your arms up around Tommy’s neck and pulled his lips to yours, kissing him softly once again.

‘I trust you’ you said, looking deep into his eyes after your lips drifted apart.

With his look fixated on you, Tommy reached down between your legs and grasped his cock in his hand before rubbing his tip against your soaking entrance.  

You moaned softly as you felt the head of his cock pressing against you. But, as soon as you could feel him push inside of you, you inhaled roughly.

‘Tommy’ you moaned as he slowly pressed forward with his hips.

 You couldn’t help it but gasp as you felt him start to enter you.

You dug your hands into his shoulder and held onto him tightly as you felt yourself being stretched.

‘Fuck’ Tommy groaned lightly, trying to force himself to go slow. It took more willpower than he had expected not to simply plunge into you as you were incredibly tight around him.

Pushing into you slowly, inch by inch, he finally felt your barrier. He stopped and looked down at you.

You gave your husband the look of approval as you tightened the hold on his shoulders and wrapped your legs around his waist.

Tommy leaned down, pressing his lips onto yours just before he nudged forward and slipped past that barrier.

As your fingernails dug into the flesh on his shoulders, Tommy swallowed your moan that was different from all the others you let loose earlier that night.

It was indeed painful and some small tears escaped your eyes as he filled you completely.

Tommy kissed away your tears before cradling you against him as he paused once more, giving you some time to adjust.

It was killing him to hold still but he wanted to wait until you were ready.

As you adjusted to him inside of you, the last sliver of pain disappeared and was overtaken by pleasure.

Tommy could feel you starting to relax and move beneath him as he continued to place small kisses on your neck.

He moaned as he felt your small movements and it tugged on his cock.

It wasn’t long until he began to move himself, small and gentle thrusts to start with.

Your thighs clenched and your toes flexed, your hips rising in vain to meet his again only to be pressed back into the bed when he sank back into you.

‘Oh god Tommy’ you moaned loudly. You could've screamed right then and there, from the highest point on the face of the earth, from the insane amount of pleasure you felt.

‘You are so god damn beautiful’ Tommy said as he continued to thrust into, picking up in speed and force.

Your nipples grazed his chest every time your hips collided as your movements became syntonised with his.

Every movement he made, no matter how small, brought a new sound out of you, your voice cresting and dropping to new highs and lows that you never even thought you would reach let alone soar passed regularly.

His thrusts soon became more urgent and you pressed into him firmly, wanting him to burry himself into you over and over again.

By that time, you had lost count of how many times the pressure had built within the cradle of your hips only to explode like a weapon of mass destruction, bringing copious amounts of toe-curling, eye-clenching amounts of pleasure so great that it seemed impossible that the next surge would ever top its predecessor.

By the sounds of your moans, Tommy knew that you were getting close to another orgasm and he was getting so close himself.

He held tight to your hips as he drove hard and fast in and out of you, making you whimper with need.

‘Oh my god Tommy, yes’ you moaned and begged slamming back against him the best you could.

Your body was wound so tight you felt like your body was going to come apart any second.

Your legs began to shiver and your walls were tightening around him as your orgasm came at you like a freight train.

‘Tommy’ you screamed at the top of your lungs, sending him over the edge also.

You came in sync with each other and, with the next thrust, he filled you with his warm cum and coated your insides, flooding you just as you did the exact same thing to him.

‘Fuck Y/N’ he moaned as his thrusts became sloppier while you both came down from your highs.

Moments later, Tommy collapsed next to you before pulling you closer for a kiss.

‘Are you alright?’ Tommy asked, running his hands over your cheek.

‘Yes’ you said quietly but with a big smile on your face.

‘The next time will be easier’ Tommy said, causing your eyes to light up.

‘You know I will hold you to the promise you made me earlier Tommy’ you said.

‘I was hoping that you would’ he grinned before wrapping his arm around you, pulling you onto his chest.

‘Will you stay with me tonight?’ you said as Tommy was brushing through your hair with his fingers.

‘Yes. Tonight and every night from now on if you want me to’ Tommy said gently.

Your body felt relaxed and at ease and, for the first time in six weeks, you felt comfortable in your own bed with your husband right beside you.

That night, he showed you a side of himself you hadn’t seen before, a side you were seeing yourself fall in love with it.

With Tommy holding you close, it wasn’t long until you drifted off to sleep.

But you weren’t the only who felt relaxed and at ease.

Tommy watched you sink into your dreams and a smile emerged on his face. He felt a familiar warmth washing over him, something he thought he wouldn’t be able to feel again.

As he turned off the bedside lamp, he felt a happiness that he hadn’t felt in a long time. Unlike other nights, he wasn’t afraid to drift off to sleep because he knew that, tonight, there would be no nightmares and no memories of Grace, there would only be you.