#because you do not get an opportunity like this often

[inbabylontheywept]

Babylon and the Duck of Butter

I have a gift for falling in love with random objects. One time, my aunt got me a little rubber chicken, and whenever I squoze it, a little egg thing popped out. Very silly. Except that chicken became something like my best friend. I carried it with me to school, and I kept it with me in my pocket, and whatever social hazards there were about Being The Guy Who Got Stressed Whenever His Rubber Chicken Was Missing were far outweighed by being The Guy Who ALWAYS Had a Rubber Chicken On Him. There's a lot of comedic opportunity that comes with always having a good prop on your person.

Of course, the chicken did eventually. Explode. And such was my grief that I did not eat for 36 hours. This was very stressful for many people. Mostly my mom. I was a very strange child to work with. She took parenting so incredibly seriously, and then I'd pitch her these curve balls like refusing to eat for a day and a half because my rubber chicken died. No parenting book tells you what to do when that happens. You just have to feel it in your heart.

A less tragic story of an object that I fell in love with was a large, foam toad that I found in a trinket shop. The toad was the size of a very large grapefruit. Much too large to carry with me to school (thank god) but enough that I could move it around the house, to keep me company during my solitary pursuits. If I was reading, the toad was there, and if I was tinkering with legos, the toad was there, and even when I slept, I would wrap the toad up in layers and layers of blankets, and then spoon it. I did this until the rubber coating on the foam started to wear out, and the foam started to get brittle and break down and leak this repulsive yellow powder. Then I simply put the toad in the playroom and would consult it on matters of great importance. Eventually I stopped doing that, and someone took the opportunity to dispose of it. Not sure who. By the time I noticed its absence, too much time had passed for me to actually be sad. As an adult, part of me thinks I would have maybe liked burying the toad, but part of me also thinks I might have refused to part with the toad, which would have resulted in it leaking more repulsive yellow powder into the house. So I understand why that decision was made. 

I want to state that this does not happen often, and it does not happen on purpose. I don't choose to fall in love with random objects. And it's always a little bit embarrassing when it happens. 

Which brings me to my wife. 

Before meeting my wife, I did not often go to places with crowds. I didn't really think of it as avoiding them - those places just didn't seem fun to me. But she liked those places, and I really liked her, and being with someone who really likes something can kind of sell you on liking it too, so I'd take her to places and watch her Visibly Enjoy the Fair and go: Alright. The fair is pretty sweet.  

Which is a thing that happened. After fourish months of dating, I took her to the fair. And she fell very visibly in love with a large series of quilts, and she stayed near them for a while, which she thought was very embarrassing, and I got to pretend to be understanding as an outsider, because I thought it would be much more impressive than also being the type of person that would fall in love with a quilt. 

Do not do this. The gods punishment for my hubris was that the room next to the quilts was full of butter sculptures, which was an entirely new thing to me, and I immediately fell embarrassingly in love with all of them. It was like the biggest, sappiest non-sexual crush you've ever had, but not only did the other person not recipropcate, they could not, because they were made of butter. I actually got yelled at for pressing my face against the glass, which is fair, but also, I hadn't realized I was pressing my face on the glass, I just started leaning forward because after approximately 30 minutes of staring wistfully at a cow made of butter my legs got tired. And I think I should be given some grace for that.

Anyway. My wife was very patient with me taking more time to look at the butter sculptures than the average person might spent at the Louvre, and she also felt much less embarrassed over falling in love with a quilt, and we had a good laugh about it on the ferris wheel. 

A few weeks after that was my birthday. And I don't know what I expected, exactly - but I did not expect what she did. 

Dear reader, she made me a butter sculpture. Of a duck.

She picked a duck, because our first kiss was at a Japanese friendship garden. It was our second date, and she'd made up her mind not to do any kissing until the third date, but as we sat on the grass, a duck walked past me, and I'd just seen the hold-duck-gentle-like-hamgurber meme,

so I sort of impulsively reached out and snatched it. I honestly didn't think it would work. I don't know who was more flabbergasted, me or the duck. But we looked at each other, and then I looked at her, and then she looked at the duck, and she looked so incredibly envious that I assumed that must have wanted the duck so I just handed it to her.

It turned out she was actually envious of the ability to just grab a duck as it walked by, but she accepted the duck and stroked it a few times before releasing it. (She also made up her mind to kiss me in that moment, which was very nice.)  

Anyway.

She made me a butter duck of my own. Obviously, I fell in love with it immediately. I cleared out all of the freezer-portion of my mini fridge, and I put the duck in there, and for the next several months, when I felt sad, or lonely, I would open the door up and spent some quality time. Just me and my duck.

But this is, of course, not the end of the story. 

Because.

After several months. 

The mini fridge died. 

I really didn't use it that often. It was mostly my duck storage container. But one day, I walked by it, and it struck me that it wasn't humming. So I opened the door, and it was just. Far, far too late. The duck was dead. Dead dead. Turned into a foul-smelling slime dead. 

I cried. I did. After the rubber chicken thing, I thought I had changed, but I had not changed, and the unexpected death of my butter buddy left me pretty shook. I texted my then-girlfriend now-wife about how sad I was, and she actually came over to help me say goodbye. We didn't even bother scraping the duck out of the mini-fridge, we just said our goodbyes to both and threw them together in the nice dumpster behind the chapel, because it seemed appropriate to put it in God's dumpster. And it did actually help quite a bit. I certainly did not go 36 hours without eating again. 

And that was, for some time, the end of the butter duck. 

However. Three (or four?) years ago, for my birthday, my wife was looking around thrift stores. And she found something interesting. 

The original butter duck had an odd pose. She'd sculpted it laying flat, intending to raise it up later. But the butter was less flexible than she thought, and she was afraid of cracking it so she left it down which left the duck with a very elongated, very in-motion appearance. And she found a brass statue of a duck in the same, running posture.

It wasn't the original. But it was oddly on the nose. It was a yellow brass, it had the same strange posture, the same crude little face feathers. 

I think it was $3, but it remains perhaps the most thoughtful gift I have ever received. I got very choked up when I unwrapped Butter Duck, The UnDying. 

Pic provided.

[agentblizz]

OK SO

I didn't actually know what a Shade was seeing as it's one of the less discussed additions of a third party D&D 5e expansion, 'Tome Of Heroes' by Kobold Press. But I did the research and OH MY GOD THEYRE SO COOL im gonna do a full breakdown for autism so click the thing if you wanna see that

Most dnd races are pretty limited in racial customization beyond superficial stuff like appearance, but the Shade is really different. I think the original material sums it up better than I could, so I'll just insert that here.

"Life leaves echoes in its wake, whether crumbled remnants of a bygone civilization, tales of heroes and gods that spawn new beliefs, or even the echo of an individual soul left behind to haunt the living world. Fantasy worlds are no strangers to ghosts and specters that linger beyond death, but sometimes a person’s passion, purpose, and will to live are so strong, their tie to the living world so unbreakable, that their memories create a vessel for their soul after their body dies. These people are called shades."

They're basically ghosts with a more material, undead twist, which, as the discerning reader might have noticed, means they were a different race pre-death. This is the main customization opportunity for Shades, as your previous race, or "Living Origin", will influence things. For the sake of answering this poll, we can assume your Living Origin is Human, exactly as you are now. If you don't like that answer you can spin the wheel again and use that as your Living Origin.

The way a Shade manifests is by having so much willpower/determination/self-confidence/whatever that they sort of spiritually manifest a new body to house that energy and their consciousness after they die. But that energy can run thin, and requires being replenished.

A Shades continued "life" depends on one key factor, memory. In order to continue existing, people, including themselves, must never forget them. They draw power and sustenance from gifts from friends, tokens of gratitude, songs, poems, and arts dedicated to them. These are all examples of a Memento Mori. In order to continue existing and keep a hold of themselves and who they are, A Shade must constantly be producing Mementos. This is what often drives a Shade to adventure, trying to meet as many people and do as many notable things as possible. One fun way to take this would be producing memories and Mementos through terror. You could have a tyrant warlord that takes over kingdoms to ensure they have citizens that know and remember them, or a criminal committing joker-esque nonsensical cruelties and crimes that linger in one's mind. A Shade NEVER operates anonymously or quietly.

Shades do depend on the gifts and memory of others, but their own memory is just as important. Shades will often keep highly detailed journals, write books detailing their adventures, or something else that ensures they remember their journey. Shades also don't need to eat, drink, sleep, breathe, or perform any of the bodily functions a normal living creature would, but they will if by any means possible, because this helps to remind them of their old life.

Shades forget themselves more and more as they age, developing more greedy and self-preserving tendencies along the way. A young Shades alignment is dependent on their personality and who they were pre-death, but as they get older they will tend to grow more towards the evil end of the spectrum. By 500, a Shade will usually have forgotten themselves, reliant on scraps of memory and the memories of others to continue on. By 700, a Shade has almost certainly devolved into a mere monster, most likely no longer resembling themselves or even a humanoid as they forget what they look like. They live to a maximum of around 750 years, at which point they dissipate fully as their last memories held by themselves and others are forgotten.

Mechanically, Shades have 60 feet of Darkvision and get a +1 to Charisma, a +1 to any other stat of your choice, and a +1 to a stat that their Living Origin would get a plus to. That's three +1s or a +2 and a +1 just from your race, making it one of the better spreads starting out. Sadly you can't stack them all, as the chosen +1 does specifically exclude Charisma. Your size category and speed are also those of your Living Origin, and you speak common as well as one language your Living Origin might have spoken. They also have several really interesting racial traits.

Firstly, the most basic of them, Spectral Resilience. A Shade has advantage on saving throws against poison and disease, and resistance to necrotic damage.

Their second, much more interesting trait is Imperfect Undeath. A Shade exists at a point between material life and spectral undead status. This is why, unlike most undead, they can benefit from healing that would usually only affect living creatures (And it would be pretty lame if they weren't able to get standard healing like the rest of the party). Unfortunately, this feature has two sides, and has something of a curse in addition to this boon. Because they are still, at their core, undead, the Shade is vulnerable to all things that affect undead such as silver weapons, spells like Turn Undead and Protection From Good And Evil, and, depending on what kind of campaign you're playing either the most inconsequential or the worst by far, involuntary control by Necromancers.

Next and my personal favorite detail of their kit is Life Drain. When a Shade deals damage, either by spell or attack, they can use Life Drain to deal additional necrotic damage equal to their total level. It has one charge, and you regain use on a short or long rest. What makes this really compelling is that when Life Drain is used on someone of the same race as your Living Origin, you also gain your total level in temporary hitpoints.

Finally, the core of a Shades kit, Ghostly Flesh. This is an unlocked ability but it's pretty low level so, depending on what level you build at, most characters will either start with this feature or get it pretty early on in their career. Starting at third level, as an action a Shade can activate Ghostly Flesh, allowing their physical body to dissipate and take on more ghost-like traits and abilities. The Shades form becomes translucent and devoid of color and the air around them grows cold. This form lasts for one minute (ten rounds) or until it is cancelled as a bonus action. While Ghostly Flesh is activated you gain a thirty foot flying speed complete with hover, resistance to bludgeoning, slashing, and piercing damage (assuming the weapon is nonmagical and not made of silver), and advantage on checks or saves made against being grappled or otherwise restrained. Lastly, and easily the most interestingly, a Shade in this form can travel through solid objects and creatures with a difficult terrain penalty. If you end your turn inside of an object or creature you take 1d10 force damage but remains where you are. It says nothing about what happens if you end Ghostly Flesh as a whole while inside an object or creature, but one would assume you are ejected and take damage as normal. This feature has one charge which is regained on a long rest.

In conclusion: HOLY SHIT THESE THINGS ARE SO FUCKING COOL there are so many opportunities for synergy or contrast in a characters class, it's so fun

tl;dr they're real cool ghost guys but might make you sad cuz ur dead:( you can fly a little, phase a little, and poison/disease doesn't affect you very much so that's a plus! You do mechanically HAVE TO do interesting stuff and meet people who will remember you though so no being a normal chill guy for you i guess

Ok, so you've been isekai'd to the dnd world and may or may not die due to the class you've been assigned. Better question. Are you human? (spinner wheel of all dnd5e species)

[jinisnuggets]

✧.* ʟᴏᴠɪɴɢ ᴏʀ ʟᴏᴠᴇᴅ?

INCLUDES | Yuji, Megumi, Gojo, Nanami, Geto, Sukuna, Toge, Yuta

READER | G/n

WORD COUNT | 0.5k (about 70 per character)

GENRE | Fluff, Headcanons

WARNINGS | Dirty jokes mention.

A/N | I hadn't noticed how long it had been since I last uploaded anything Jjk related.

➼ ʟᴏᴠɪɴɢ

Yuji

Yuji is an absolute sweetheart, he loves showering his partner with compliments and affection so they are aware just how incredible and meaningful they are. He knows his limits and is absolutely willing to surpass them if it means protecting his partner from any harm. He would be a bit obnoxious and maybe a little annoying at times, but he doesn't mind going shopping or doing other activities that you may enjoy.

Nanami

I genuinely think Nanami would be a pretty good partner. I think he would be a respectfully mature boyfriend/husband who would be affectionate at times and kiss you when stress gets the better of him. I think his partner would be his escape from the world and job, so he would treasure the time he gets to wrap his s/o around his arms and simply rest in safety and assurance.

Geto

Geto is an absolute tease, he would mock his partner because that's his love language. However, he will always assure no one makes you uncomfortable (and if someone does then we pray for that person). He will always be sure to let others know their boundaries whenever it comes to you, never letting someone take a step to close. When you feel upset, he will sit down and always listen to you.

Sukuna

Again, Sukuna is a tease and enjoys mocking his partner because that's his love language. Sukuna tends to be a bit more romantic with his teasing, often hitting you with things like “you know you love me” or the good old “Relax princess/prince.” He will sometimes (often) sneak in some dirty jokes. There's nothing he loves more than taking the initiative and seeing your flustered face whenever he gets the opportunity.

➼ ʟᴏᴠᴇᴅ

Toge

I think the reason Toge is here is obvious, due to his cursed speech, he is unable to speak his sentiments in a genuine manner. So I believe he'd like whenever you show small actions of care or interest towards him: things like brushing his hair, cupping his cheeks, kissing him on the forehead or cheek are all things he adores. He doesn't need much; he's content with small actions of affection.

➼ ʙᴏᴛʜ

Megumi

Fushiguro has been rightfully depicted as the “perfect man” of Jjk, so therefore he lands a spot here. He isn't a very physically affectionate partner, but he always shows he cares by listening to you attentively and assuring you with words of affirmation or advice if that's what you wish; in addition, he is very protective over his partner. I think he'd relatively enjoy whenever you take the initiative to kiss or hug him.

Gojo

Gojo can be a pretty immature person, so I think he'd be the type to show off his partner: introducing them as the great Gojo’s wife/husband, etc. Gojo would like giving compliments, but he'd also like receiving them to increase his ego. I think he'd constantly buy gifts for his partner and spoil them despite you asking him not to, but of course he likes whenever you stand up and kiss him or give him small words of encouragement.

Yuta

Yuta is another sweetheart of the series, so I think he'd always make sure to spend his time to the fullest whenever he's with you. He is constantly gone on overseas missions, so therefore, his time with you is limited. He'd spend that limited time with you and treasure it, whether it's by practice, or lunch. Picnics are common and he adores them, or other small things like drawing competitions. He doesn't care as long as you both are having fun.

[clarkeyhill]

Change | George Clarke

Fluff

The thought had been lingering in my mind for weeks. Every time I looked in the mirror, I imagined a change—something fresh, something daring. My blonde hair had always been my signature, but a part of me craved something different. A version of myself that felt bolder, more alive. And today, with George out on a shoot with Chris and Arthur, the opportunity presented itself.

Cherry red. Not too light, not too dark. A shade that struck the perfect balance between vibrant and sultry.

I booked the appointment with precision, making sure everything aligned so I’d be home before George returned. I didn’t want him catching on too soon—I wanted the surprise to hit just right.

The moment I stepped into the salon, excitement mingled with nerves. The stylist ran her fingers through my hair, offering reassuring words as she mixed the dye. “You’re going to look stunning with this color,” she said, and I clung to the confidence in her voice.

As the transformation unfolded, I watched the blonde fade away, replaced by deep, rich hues of red. The shift was striking—dramatic yet elegant. By the time my hair was dried and styled, I could barely recognize myself. The red made my features pop, my eyes stand out in a way I had never noticed before.

I felt… different. A little more daring. A little more me.

The ride home was filled with nervous anticipation. Would George like it? Would he even recognize me at first? I shook off the self-doubt—I loved it, and that was what mattered.

Still, when I heard the front door open, my heart skipped.

“Babe, I’m home!”

I stood up from the couch, smoothing my fingers through my hair as if to prepare myself. Then, as he stepped into the room, I turned to face him.

The reaction was instant.

George froze mid-step, his eyes locking onto me with an intensity I wasn’t expecting. His expression shifted—first confusion, then awe, as if he couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing.

“What…” His camera bag slipped from his shoulder, landing on the floor with a soft thud. “You—your hair—”

I tucked a strand behind my ear, my heart hammering. “Do you like it?”

For a moment, he didn’t speak. He just stared, his gaze tracing over every inch of the transformation. Then, as if drawn by instinct, he stepped forward and reached out, his fingers grazing through my freshly dyed strands.

His touch was slow, reverent. He twisted a piece between his fingers, his brows furrowed in wonder. “It’s…” He trailed off, his voice almost breathless. “I knew you were hot, but I didn’t know you could get any hotter.”

Heat bloomed in my cheeks. “Oh, shut up.”

“I’m serious.” He let out a soft, disbelieving laugh, his hands sliding to cup my jaw, tilting my face slightly as if to take me in from every angle. “How does it suit you this much?” His thumb brushed over my cheekbone, his eyes drinking in every detail. “I can’t stop looking at you.”

And he really couldn’t.

Throughout the evening, I caught him staring—when I was cooking, when I sat beside him on the couch, even when I was doing nothing at all. Every so often, his fingers would reach for my hair again, twirling it absentmindedly, as if making sure it was real.

At one point, I felt his gaze before I even looked up. He was leaning back against the couch, watching me with a soft, almost dazed smile. “You’re ridiculous,” I teased, shaking my head.

He smirked, completely unbothered. “I can’t help it.” Then, with a hum of approval, he ran a hand through my hair again, tugging me closer. “This might be my new favorite thing about you.”

I turned my head slightly, meeting his gaze. “Oh yeah? And what was your favorite before?”

He didn’t even hesitate. “You,” he murmured, his thumb brushing against my jaw. “Just you.”

My heart melted right then and there.

If I had any doubts about the change before, they were completely gone now. Because George loved it. But more importantly?

So did I.

-

🫶🏻

[borderlinereminders]

I think 99% of my advice for healthy relationships is to communicate, especially in advance.

Talk to your loved ones about conflict before you have one. Talk about how you react to conflict and ways you can solve conflict together. If you need to walk away during conflict to gather your thoughts, let them know before you have a conflict so that they can be prepared for the fact that you may need space. If there are certain things that really upset you that typically come up during conflicts, let them know.

Talk to your loved ones about your insecurities before they become a problem. Maybe this means planning a way to communicate that you could use some reassurance. Maybe this means getting a letter from them, or screenshots to read when you need to.

Talk to your loved ones about boundaries. If something they tease you about is actually upsetting, communicate that and let them know. Our loved ones generally want to make our lives better and wouldn’t continue to do stuff if they knew it was hurting you. They don’t know there’s a problem to fix if they aren’t told.

Talk to your loved ones if something is bothering you. Do you feel you always message first or initiate contact? Talk to them about it. Don’t start playing the “I’m not going to message until they do” game. Try not to become passive aggressive or hint at the problem.

Talk to your loved ones about things you like, appreciate or love. Give them the opportunity to do these things for you.

If a loved one is venting to you, ask what they need if they don’t tell you. Ask if they’d like support, or for you to offer validation or advice, or just to listen. This can prevent so much. When we get advice sometimes when we’re upset, we’re not in a place for it and it can make it worse and create conflict.

If a loved one is struggling and you don’t know how to help, don’t just avoid them because you don’t know what to say. Ask them how they’d like support. Sometimes people just want company, a distraction or to know they’re loved. On the other side of this, try to tell your loved ones how they can help. Often they do want to help, they just don’t know help.

I could go on and on about this, but perhaps you get the idea by now.

Our loved ones aren’t mind readers, but sometimes we expect them to be and that isn’t fair to them or us. That usually ends with both you and them being upset. Communicate directly when you can.

[xx-emowarz-xx]

Yeah obviously.

But also I have a couple of things to add. You probably didn't mean it this way but I want to make sure we're not putting black employees and punk employees into two separate boxes with no overlap because black people have made a lot of really important contributions to goth punk and emo subcultures which often gets erased. This post is as much about weird black people's right to get body mods as it is about white people's.

The second thing I want to say is that the idea of "professionalism" is based on restrictive conservative WASP cultural norms. This post was made through the lense of emo stuff because I'm moving though the world as a white scene trans person and my own job search is difficult right now and it occured to me that the reason you don't see a lot of older goths is because they probably experienced what I'm experiencing right now and decided to pack it in, and I made it on my sideblog where I post about bands. The post has an angle it's not a generalized statement about workplace discrimination. That being said the reason that people who look like I do get told to clean their act up before they can get hired is because of cultural norms rooted in racism. Tattoos were unacceptable in professional culture before there was punk music, and a lot of indigenous cultures use tattoos in their cultural traditions. Piercings were unacceptable in professional culture before there was punk music, and a lot of African and South Asian cultures have facial piercings normalized or expected in their cultural wear (I don't know the significance I just know I've never met a Punjabi woman without a nose ring). I don't really think I need to get into hair, but saying no weird hair (read no hair unacceptable to the wasp monocultures, be it because it's actually weird or just from a different culture) is one of the primary work arounds racists use to deny jobs opportunities to black people now that racial discrimination is technically on the books illegal. Obviously people with Ta Moko and dreads are gonna suffer under these sorts of workplace dress codes than a white guy with a throat tattoo and pink hair. That said neither of those people are getting hired at a workplace that demands a tattoo free body and a professional haircut and both of them deserve to be able to pay for food and shelter without having to change the way they look to please the sensibilities of the white cisheteropatriarchy and they should probably (hint to white punks here to maybe work a bit harder at being allies to poc) band together to demand bodily autonomy and an end to restrictive work place policies rooted in white cisheteropatriarchy.

People don't actually grow out of their emo phases. People are forced out of their emo phases by employers who get a raging boner over controlling how their employees dress, cut their hair, whether they mod their bodies and so on

[menagerofmischief]

nsfw alphabet -> nr6

masterlist

nsfw alphabet (a-z) / 18+

nico rosberg x fem!reader

an: this one was a requested a while ago, I never pass up a chance to write for my favorite diva.

A= Aftercare (what they’re like after the act)

Nico is someone who values intimacy a lot and he takes aftercare absolutely seriously, he's doing the full experience every time. Bringing you water, snacks, drawing you a bath or taking a shower together and ending up wrapped in blankets with your favorite show playing.

B= Body part (favorite body part their own or their lovers)

His favorite body part of yours are absolutely your thighs, no matter the size he adores them. Will be touching, gripping or stroking at any opportunity, even during public dinners.

C= Cum (anything that has to do with it)

Like I said, he values intimacy a lot so he absolutely goes feral for coming in you. It's the best for him, no need to pull out and it makes him feel even closer to you so it's his go to. If you ask him to cum on any part of your body, boobs, face, ass, back, you name it he'll do it but if you leave it up to him, it's going inside.

D= Dirty secret (Pretty self explanatory)

He knows you'd never let him live it down so he doesn't mention it but he has a very secret very special sex playlist of Britney Spears songs which he'd love to play while fucking you.

E= Experience (do they know what they’re doing)

He has enough experience to know what he's doing and is down for learning about every little thing that feels good for you. Hasn't been around plenty but he's a good learner.

F= Favorite position

He mostly prefers positions where he can look at your face because he loves the look on your face when you're close to orgasm. Also likes doggy in front of a mirror.

G= Goofy (how serious are they)

He can go either way depending on the mood. Sometimes it's all very lighthearted and you're both giggling other times it's full on deep in the moment and passionate.

H= Hair (grooming habits)

For himself, he keeps it neatly trimmed because he finds that's what works best for him - for you, he's fine with whatever you're the most comfortable with.

I= Intimacy (in the moment romantic or rough/dirty)

Most of the time he's really romantic and into it, gazing into your eyes and everything. But he can absolutely go filthy and rough if he's has a bad day or something (Lewis) annoyed him much.

J= Jack off (do they masturbate and how often)

Does it occasionally, especially if he's really pent up but doesn't like doing it alone. If he's away and you couldn't come he's video call you so you can both get off together.

K= Kink (kinks what they like possibly unusual)

He likes mirror sex, and is a fan of foreplay. Otherwise he isn't really specific about his kinks and is open to trying pretty much anything at least once.

L= Location (where they like to get it on)

He prefers the bedroom but as long as it's a closed space with walls and not too public, he's down to go.

M= Motivation (what gets them going)

He doesn't need a lot to be able to go really, and anything you do that's even remotely suggestive had him ready and needy.

N= No (something they won't do)

Anything that actually hurts you in a definite no. Some roughness is okay to a certain extent but when it feels more like pain and less like pleasure it's an absolute no go for him.

O= Oral (receiving or giving and how skillful they are)

Lives for giving you head, and has worked hard to perfect his technique, finding all your sensitive spots and trying to see how fast he can make you fall apart. Really does it for his own enjoyment, seeing as he gets completely lost in it. Would be happy to drown in your pussy.

P= Pace (do they prefer it slow or fast)

Somewhere in the middle. He's not exactly going slow but neither is he going that fast. Will listen to what you tell him you want in the moment, increasing the rhythm of his thrusts as soon as you moan out a "Nico, please faster, baby please!"

Q= Quickie (do they prefer quickies or taking their time)

He prefers to take his time and make you fall apart multiple times, first on his fingers and tongue and then on his cock. But he can absolutely go for quickies as long as it's somewhere private.

R= Risk (do they like to try new things)

He's down for experiment and trying new things with you. He's happy to try anything you bring up, and if you like it great, if you don't at least you tried.

S= Stamina (how many times they can go)

It depends on how exhausting the day was but he can usually go multiple rounds with little to no breaks in between.

T= Toys (are they game for using sex toys on themselves or lovers)

He's okay with toys, it wasn't something he thought about it at first but after you tried it once he discovered his love for them and all the ways he can use them on you.

U= Unfair (how do they tease or do they enjoy suspense themselves)

Mostly he does it unintentionally at first, but once he notices there's a glint in his eyes and a smirk on his lips, will tease you for as long as possible.

V= Volume (are they loud, what sounds, and do they talk)

He moans and grunts, sometimes if you're teasing him he'll whine. Overall he makes really pretty sounds. Also very good at dirty talk but his voice will sometimes crack as a moan slips past.

W= Wild card (random headcannon of any sort)

During the big Brocedes fall out era he has fucked you rough, purposefully trying to make you be loud, all against the wall separating his driver's room from Lewis's.

X= X-ray (what’s down below in those pants)

He's a bit above average for length and around average girth, also has a pretty pink tip, always sensitive and leaking.

Y= Yearning (sex drive)

He's not fully sex crazed but is quiet needy. Ideally 3-4 times a week.

Z= Zzzz (do they sleep after if so how quickly after)

Nico will wait for you to fall asleep first, holding you close, his hands stroking your skin, the movement slowing down and coming to a stop once he can no longer fight off sleep, his face buried in the crook of your neck.

[utilitycaster]

edit: thanks @wardensantoineandevka for sending me the post I reference below but couldn't find at the time, it's this one and I will also be reblogging it separately because you should all read it.

while I'm thinking about Downfall I really have been thinking extensively about the ongoing discussion of fandoms and particularly centering/prioritizing white queerness and more generally one's own experiences (and I cannot find one of the best posts about it, which is not by me) because, as I've said before, but notably about Circle of Needle and Thread and Downfall, Brennan is somehow known as The Communist DM and also at every opportunity his messages of class-based oppression get pushed aside by fandoms. In D20, the message frequently gets flattened into Capitalism Is The BBEG (to the point that D20 has somewhat depressingly caved to it) but in doing so generally erases the human element - the discussion becomes dominated by the terminally online anticapitalist types who really do want to treat capitalism as the BBEG that, once killed, everything will be fixed, rather than part of a complex system to be dismantled in a manner that preserves the most human lives. In Candela Obscura: Circle of Needle and Thread, Sean's story explicitly about losing everything to the wealthy and powerful was shoved aside by fans cranky that his character wasn't made explicitly queer and in love with Marion. In Downfall, Aeor's exploitation was acknowledged by fans but its imperialism conveniently forgotten in order to focus on those powerful within the system who hated the gods, not the poor of the city nor those on the surface, without protection, being used as nothing more than a source of cheap labor.

And the thing is: I obviously do not think that the world is lacking in empathy nor opportunity for straight cis white men, but the fact that people cannot take Brennan and his experiences as someone of a lower class - the most tame palatable version of that too, as in addition to being a straight cis white man he is educated, a native English speaker, sober, and housed his entire life - without needing to twist it into something closer to their (often middle-class) experiences or existing worldview is depressing and telling, and it has not improved. This was an issue with Campaign 2 (the post I cannot find touched on how Fjord and Veth's stories were cast aside or only engaged with using heavy headcanoning to make them more like the viewer because they were not explicitly textually queer, despite being explicitly racialized and about class) and it's gone metastatic in Campaign 3, and it really needs to stop.

I am hoping, still, that Campaign 3 serves as the endpoint of this sort of selfishness, and its fans will have some sort of realization (or, more likely if less good for the world, will leave this fandom to terrorize another) but I will say if this continues in C4 I will personally be calling it out in the moment - no more vagueing, if you say you're nauseated by someone bringing up their personal experiences with colonialism that happen conflict with your feelings about your blorbos you're getting nailed to the wall by name then and there and what happens to you is your business.

[muletia]

miniformers is taking over my brain. I need to cuddle mini Starscream, bumblebee, Megatron, and knockout and kiss their little foreheads, Aghdfbsjfhsb I’m going insane

𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐚𝐧𝐬 𝐯𝐨𝐥. 𝟑 ༘⋆✿

bumblebee, starscream, knockout

word count: 1250

A little manipulator (affectionate), who has absolutely no objections to using his charm to coax a few kisses or cuddles out of you

Bee knows he's adorable. He’s well aware of the effect his big, puppy-like optics have on you, and if he really wanted to, he could ask for absolutely anything, and you’d agree without hesitation. So it's no surprise that when he gets shrunk down, you find yourself completely incapable of refusing him anything

At first, however, he approaches the idea of using this to his advantage with restraint — at least until he fully accepts that being tiny is his new reality and that he has to learn how to deal with this new perspective. He stays close because he feels most comfortable in your company and can hide behind you whenever Optimus' towering height suddenly becomes overwhelming

Exploiting your bursts of affection comes later when he realizes just how hard it is for you to resist showering his entire face with kisses and scooping him into your arms at every possible opportunity. He enjoys this reversal of roles, especially since he used to be the cuddle-bug in your relationship. Of course, that doesn’t mean he’s going to give up hugging you on his own terms — you often find yourself with a few extra pounds clinging to your leg whenever Bee feels like getting some affection

All it takes is for you to get momentarily distracted — maybe you’re trying to discuss this strange height-changing situation with Ratchet, sharing your observations and thoughts, when Bee is already tightening his servo around the sleeve of your shirt, demanding your attention. It's convenient and much more effective than verbally calling for you because the moment he tugs at your clothing, he’s guaranteed a kiss or a pat on the helm

He follows you everywhere and wants to be a part of all your plans for the day. You could be working, and Bee will still be cuddled up against you, finally able to sit on your lap without worrying about crushing it. I can totally see him crawling under your hoodie too, trying to get even closer to you, to experience a level of closeness he never could before

He won’t mind staying like this forever if it means receiving affection from you at every possible moment <3

He bolts before you can even let out a single coo in his direction

Starscream absolutely despises this new state of affairs. He’s become defenseless, easy to overlook, far too vulnerable to aggression from other bots who, in this form, could wipe him out in a nanoklik. He’s fallen to the very bottom of the food chain, which means that under no circumstances can he let himself be seen

He’d like to hide from you too, and from your untamed need to treat him like a sparkling, but the most he can manage is transforming and flying up to a higher level, where he can observe you safely from above without having to endure your cooing about how "cute" and "adorable" he is

That doesn’t mean he’ll stay silent, oh no. You’re going to hear plenty of complaints and theatrics, dramatic laments about the horror of remaining in this pitiful form forever, and screeching about how humans can possibly function while being tiny all the time. He’ll also expect sympathy, tears even, shed over his misfortune, so don’t think you can just ignore his unproductive, egocentric monologue. The moment you stop paying attention, he’ll call you out for it, accusing you of not caring, of being selfish — do you even want to help him? Or do you secretly hope he’ll stay this pathetic size forever just so you can continue tormenting him?

He just needs some time before he exhausts himself with all the dramatics and the consequences of his sudden size change finally catch up to him. The helplessness, the inability to fend off sudden threats, the need for support, because there’s no one else he can rely on but you. And so, he descends from his safe height and returns to you, warning you that he absolutely refuses to be treated like a sparkling

It’s a shame that his whole independent and self-sufficient facade crumbles the moment you press a kiss to his forehead, right at the base of his red crest, and coo sweetly, murmuring that you just can’t help yourself. Starscream manages one more outburst before another kiss silences him a little. And the next one makes him temporarily abandon all plans of immediately finding a way to return to his normal size

Perhaps he can allow himself to be adored by you for just a little while, can’t he?

That little while seems to stretch into eternity as you pull him close, hugging him tightly, unable to resist with such an adorable mech right in front of you. And maybe, just for a moment, he lets himself feel loved, without having to initiate touch himself, completely absorbed in the affection you pour into the touch-starved void in his spark

Unfortunately, he quickly remembers that while you make him feel safe, he can’t allow himself to stay in this form. No matter how wonderful it is to be wrapped up in your arms, he needs to return to his normal size — not just to match his ego but also to protect you and have any chance at victory

He hates this whole situation just as much as the rest of them — until he realizes you’re much more willing to give him attention in this form

Knockout values compliments from you and absolutely loves receiving them. He relishes every second of your attention, using it to stroke his enormous ego. Especially since, normally, you’re not too eager to spend time with him after he so boldly barged into your life and unilaterally decided that he was the most important part of it

So this sudden shrinking? It’s an unmissable opportunity for him to bask in the attention you now lavish upon him — even if, after a while, your incessant cooing starts to grate on his nerves when it’s not about his attractiveness but rather about how “cute” he is. Could you go back to praising his exquisitely polished finish? He didn’t spend all that time buffing himself to perfection just for you to completely disregard it in favor of fawning over his “adorable” faceplate

And while he drinks in your compliments like the finest energon, your constant, relentless attempts to touch him with your dirty, greasy human hands? Those are much less appreciated. You’re smudging his flawless paint job, leaving fingerprints all over him. Do you really have the patience to keep polishing him over and over again? Surely, at some point, you’ll get bored of trying to hug him and smother his entire faceplate and helm with kisses, right?

But when your wave of affection actually subsides, Knockout suddenly realizes that he appreciates your attention in all its forms. He immediately goes on the offensive, dynamically trying to draw your focus back to him, even if that means sacrificing his freshly polished shine and straddling your stomach just to pin you down and squeeze a few more kisses out of you

Oh, and by the way, he's definitely taking a few selfies with your phone. Just in case he ever needs to blackmail you with his “adorable little face,” as you so fondly called it, should you ever refuse to visit him on the Nemesis

[karlmarxmaybe]

Well, anime is from Japan, animation from China is called donghua. But the thing is (tw discussion of orientalism and transmisoginy):

That "hrt won't make you look like an anime girl, you'll just look like your mom" phrase is, I'll argue, more orientalist than transmisogynist, and it is plenty transmisogynist. The idea here is that Anime, a Japanese product, is corrupting the "Western" mind. That the beauty standards of "western" society do not come from it itself, but rather can be blamed on the "mysoginistic East". It's a very blatant contrast of the conceptualized West (the mom, the woman on the street) and the conceptualized, otherized Japan (anime). Is anime misogynistic? Yes, often. But singling it out as if it was the only thing, or even the main thing that is mysoginist and sets beauty standards for westerners is blatantly incorrect, and it is done as a form of orientalism.

Also it is transmisogynist in a specific way: denying transfems their desired change. Some people are frothing at the mouth for an opportunity to tell trans women "you cannot become who you want to be". They want to deny transfems autonomy. To say "hrt is not as powerful as you think. It can't work miracles. It can't make you happy." But they won't say that, because they present themselves as allies. So they construct a bullshit situation in which they're correct.

The trick being played here is making use of how a transfem's mom is likely to be associated with her egg years, her egg childhood, and very often a source of trauma, to say things will be just like when you were an egg. With a sentence that presents itself as feminist and anti-beauty standards, they instead confine the woman to the deppressive hell of egghood forever.

One of the biggest hesitations a transfem usually has about hrt is: what if it doesn't make things better? What if I'm still horribly depressed as a woman? And the only way for her to learn that yes, it will definetely make everything better than you can even imagine, is to go on hrt!!!! You cannot see out the surface while you're deep under the sea. "Will I truly not drown up there, too?"

And the transmisogynists deny them the truth. They do it not directly, but through these associations the targeted transfem has.

And it is actually targeting a lot of transfems! Because there is a large proportion of transfems whose process of egg-breaking is deeply tied to anime. Consider ranma 1/2 (especially), touhou, rgu and other animes in which women are the main characters. Anime girls have given these girls a chance to understand themselves, to see girls they can aspire to be. What is alluring to transfems about anime girls is not just that they're anime, it's that they are girls. Within the space of fiction, they can experiment with gender, allow themselves femininity.

If a transfem's western and gets into anime as a teen, when most eggs start questioning their identities, she can find something different from the cartoons she's watched before. If she gets, for example, into magical girl anime, she finds a world of dresses, transformation sequences, long luscious hair and unrelenting girl friendship. She can find Joy and long for it. Or consider the reverse. Ghost in the Shell. Lain. Eva. She can find stories of women lost, cut off from themselves by society and even questioning their selfhood. She can find understanding.

And the transmisogynists deny them this. They do it not directly, but through the associations the targeted transfem has. Mom & my street=suffering. Anime girls=who I wish I was. So when they say "you won't look like an anime girl, you will look just like your mom or a woman on the street", they mean things will be just like when you were an egg. Your newfound understanding of yourself is but an illusion, put in your brain by asians.

And obviously western transfems are not exempt from becoming weeaboo. Of developing a fascination with the "foreign" Japanese shows and culture that is indeed orientalist. The thing is, transfems are far from the only ones susceptible to this. This is, again, something that must be understood in the broader context of western society as a whole. So when transfems are singled out about it, it's not to discuss orientalism, but to go "lol look at this loser fakewoman, obsessed with weird Japanese stuff". And that sentiment is (besides transmisogynistic) also orientalist. It is obviously better to engage with anime as a form of art like any other than to single it out as weird and offputting like the racists do.

In fact, consider that this sentiment is trying to pull trans women away from both their desires and Japanese culture, which is something that in western society is meant to be mocked from afar. This double probibition makes both more alluring: the anime girl is now something the transfem is forbidden from, just like she is forbidden from being just girl. This is not to excuse orientalism among western transfems, simply an attempt to explain material circumstances that may lead to it.

In conclusion: the phrase "estrogen won't turn you into an anime girl, you'll look like your mom or like a regular lady on the bus" is an attempt to deny the effectiveness of estrogen, to tell transfems they belong in their egg past and break any desire for femininity they might have gotten from anime, in a move to deprecate the orientalized conception of Japan as "corruptive" of "Western" "men". Criticisms of orientalism in western queer circles are necessary, and this phrase is not one of them. It's just more orientalism. Get hrt.

estrogen will turn you into an anime girl. your imperfect fleshy body will melt away and be replaced with immaculate linework. your eyes will become the size of tennis balls. your hair will shine every colour of the rainbow. every time you move a poor overworked animator will only be paid 10 yen per frame.

[lindsey-laufeyson]

Distractions- Chapter 17

Distractions Masterlist

Pairing: Reader x FWB!Tom Hiddleston

Series Warnings: SMUT, fluff, angst, friends with benefits

Over the next several weeks, you and Tom didn’t see each other as much as you used to. Tom had begun a UK press tour for a small independent film he’d done last year that would release in a couple of months, and you had already jumped headfirst into yet another project– a mini series for the BBC. When you did see each other, which was only about once or twice a week, it was often a brief rendezvous of vigorous, stress-relieving sex, followed by a few hours of sleep before having to get up to go to work. You tried to convince yourself that it was just because you were both so busy– and it was, partly– but something was different. There was a slight distance between the two of you. Admittedly, you were partially responsible for that. 

In an effort to combat whatever illusion your brain had created in Hawaii, as well as avoid appearing clingy, you tried your best not to be the one to initiate anything. If he wanted to hang out or have sex, he could text you. Of course, this proved to be harder than you thought it would be, and there were a couple of times, after a particularly hard day, you gave in and texted him first. For the most part, however, you were able to resist. Unfortunately, you eventually realized that his current schedule allowed for him to be home almost every night, often by dinner time, which inevitably led you to wonder what he was doing on the nights he didn’t text you, an increasingly frequent occurrence. If your experience with him taught you anything, it was that he had an incredibly high sex drive. So, if he was only fucking you once or twice a week, what, or who, was he doing to satiate that appetite the rest of the time? But that shouldn’t matter. In fact, you should be taking the opportunity to get some variety into your sex life too, right? The problem was, you had yet to meet anyone else that even remotely interested you. 

All of these irritating thoughts kept resurfacing, and you kept pushing them down, telling yourself you were being silly, until eventually you wouldn’t be able to push them down any longer.

As you entered Tom’s house, you yawned sleepily, wondering if you’d be able to stay awake. Your question was quickly answered when he immediately began kissing and undressing you. It woke you up instantly. He was intoxicating— the way he smelled, the way he kissed you, the way he touched you.

Once you were down to just your tank top and knickers, he lifted you up and carried you to his bedroom, dropping you down on the bed as soon as he got there. You fell with a huff, but didn’t complain. You liked when he was like this, desperate and hungry for you. He quickly slipped your shirt and panties off of you and knelt between your legs. He smiled at you before diving between your thighs. You gasped as his mouth made contact with your pussy. Your hands flew to the light brown curls on top of his head as he ran his tongue from the base of your slit, up through your folds, just grazing your clit. You whimpered, wanting more. Tom chuckled against your cunt before he continued licking your slit, his tongue diving deeper with each lick. 

“Fuck, that feels so good,” you moaned. “But I need more!” 

He simply chuckled again, but kept at his own pace. He was building you up slowly like he always did when he went down on you; always making you impatient, but never failing to give you the best orgasms of your life. He slipped his tongue into your entrance and swirled it around, lapping at your walls as if he wanted to taste every drop of arousal you had to give. Your clit was throbbing at this point, just aching for attention. 

“Toooooommmmm,” you whined, bucking your hips and tightening your grip on his hair. 

You felt his tongue retreat. “So impatient,” he tutted. 

You looked down at him. “No, you’re a tease.”

He raised an eyebrow at you. “Do you want me to continue or not?” 

You sighed. “Yes please!” You let your head fall back and closed your eyes. 

He licked up your slit once more, but when he reached your clit this time, he began slowly circling his tongue around it, ushering soft moans from your lips. Soon you felt him slip one finger inside you, then two, pumping them in and out of you while he flicked your clit with his tongue, causing your moans to become louder. 

“Shit, I’m close,” you breathed between moans. Tom took this as a signal to start sucking on your clit like a lollipop. “Oh yes! Don’t stop!” He curled his fingers, stroking your g-spot expertly and eliciting the filthiest noises from you as he brought you closer and closer to your climax, until you finally tumbled over the edge. Your back arched off the bed and your pussy contracted around his fingers while you cried out in pure ecstasy. Tom, meanwhile, didn’t let up with his mouth or his fingers until he felt your body start to relax again, at which point he removed his lips from your clit, and slowly pulled his fingers out of your pussy and sucked them clean. “I will never understand how you’re so good at that.” you said, breathless.

“Practice,” he replied simply as he rolled on a condom and crawled up your body to hover over you. 

Of course, you thought, mentally kicking yourself for even saying anything. Now all you could think about is all the other women he’s gone down on.

“You’ve given me plenty of practice,” he clarified when his face was just inches from yours. 

Nice save. You almost rolled your eyes, but he leaned down and kissed you deeply, effectively silencing your insecurities. You hummed at the taste of yourself on his lips and tongue, and you could feel him smile as he kissed you, no doubt in response to your approval. 

He moved his lips from your mouth to your ear. “Are you up for more, darling?” he whispered. You felt his hard cock nudge at your folds. 

“Always,” you replied, snaking your hands down his back and giving his ass a firm squeeze. 

He snickered in your ear. “Good girl,” he purred before dipping his head down to kiss your neck while he rolled his hips, causing his length to graze against your clit. As always, his words made you shiver, and his touch made you whimper. He ground his dick against your wet, swollen pussy a few more times while he sucked on your neck. More whimpers fell from your lips, your body aching to be filled by him. You hated that he made you so needy, but he was needy too. You could feel it in how intensely he sucked on your sensitive skin. That’s what this whole arrangement was about afterall: fulfilling each other’s needs, without committing or getting emotionally involved. 

Finally, he pulled his hips back, lined himself up with your entrance, and slowly pushed his cock inside you. You softly groaned at the welcomed intrusion while he cursed against your neck. Once he was about half way in, he pulled almost all the way out before pushing back in just a little further. He continued this again and again, inching further and further inside you until he was buried to the hilt.

He stilled for a moment to let you adjust. “Mmmmm, I don’t think I’ll ever grow tired of your incredible pussy,” he mumbled, a slight strain in his voice, likely from resisting immediately fucking you hard and fast. This time you did roll your eyes, though he couldn’t see. The man knew just what to say, you’d give him that, but you couldn’t help but wonder just how many pussies he’d said that about and how many he currently had on retainer.

You were pulled from your thoughts as Tom began to move again, pumping in and out of you slowly while he groaned softly in your ear. You felt every curve and ridge of his cock through the condom, sliding against your pussy walls. “Fuck, baby, harder,” you moaned. He was happy to oblige. His gentle pumps turned to hard thrusts, successfully fucking the jealous thoughts right out of your brain, for now at least.

Tom suddenly shifted to his knees, pulling one of your legs up and resting your ankle on his shoulder. He then gripped your hips and began pounding into you, the new angle allowing the head of his cock to hit your g-spot just right. 

“Oh god, yes!” you cried out involuntarily. When you looked up at him, you saw him staring at your bouncing tits, his mouth ajar and eyebrows knitted together— he was close. With one hand still firmly grasping your hip, he reached between your joined bodies with the other and started rubbing your clit.

“Come for me, sweetheart,” he said breathlessly. 

It was only seconds after which you felt your second orgasm wash over you. “Fuck! Oh FUCK!” You screamed, throwing your head back as your cunt clenched around his throbbing cock.

“Fucking hell,” he moaned, and with a few more thrusts he came too, filling the condom with his cum. You always thought it would be so fucking hot to feel him cum inside you without the condom, filling you to the brim in every sense of the word, but with how many potential partners he had, you knew the condom was necessary. Fuck. There was that jealousy again. 

“You’re amazing, you know that?” Tom said panting as he pulled out of you and discarded the spent contraceptive. 

You laughed between your heavy breaths. “Now I know you’re just saying that because you’ve just done most of the heavy lifting!”

“That’s the thing,” he replied slyly as he laid back down next to you. “You don’t have to do anything to be amazing.” He kissed you on the cheek and then leaned back with his arm out, inviting you to lay with him.

“You know you already got me to have sex with you. You don’t have to keep trying to sweet talk me,” you replied sarcastically as you rolled onto your side and rested your head and hand on his chest.

He sighed as he wrapped his arm around you and began to absentmindedly trace your spine with his fingertips. “When will you learn to take a compliment?”

“Probably never,” you answered matter-of-factly.

“Are you alright, darling?” he asked you. “You seemed a bit distracted this time.”

“I’m just tired is all. You know, because someone decided to wake me up at 2am so he could get some.” You looked up at him with a playfully scolding expression. 

“And I think I’ve done my best to show my appreciation for you coming over so late, haven’t I?”

You smiled. “You certainly have. Can I sleep now?”

He brought his hand to your face, lightly stroking your cheek with his thumb. “Of course,” he replied as he leaned in to kiss you, softer than he had in a while. It made your heart flutter, which was not supposed to happen. 

You broke the kiss abruptly. “Goodnight,” you said quickly before rolling over onto your other side so you were facing away from him. You heard him mumble ‘goodnight’ in response as he settled in to sleep. 

Unfortunately, now it was you who couldn’t sleep. You could hear Tom softly snoring while you stared into the darkness, wondering why things with Tom felt so different lately, and why now more than ever, you were so concerned about the fact that you were just one of probably several women Tom was sleeping with. You couldn’t stop thinking about how he probably tells every woman he fucks that they’re amazing, and let’s them sleep over too…in this bed… with this pillow… and these sheets. You were sure he washed them between his little escapades, but the fact remained, you were just one of many in rotation, getting the same treatment as everyone else. Now that you thought about it, you might not have even been his first choice tonight. How many ‘friends’ had he texted before you agreed to come over? You felt your eyes well up with tears, some escaping down your face and onto the pillow. Shit. You needed to go home and clear your head.

You wiped the tears from your face and climbed out of Tom’s bed as quietly as you could, careful not to wake him. Now was the hard part: finding all of your clothes in the dark. You found your panties first, right by the bed, and quietly pulled them on. Then you found your tank top by the bedroom door. You went to grab it when you stubbed your toe on the dresser, causing you to curse louder than you intended. 

“You alright, love?” you heard Tom ask sleepily. 

“I’m fine,” you whispered. “Go back to sleep.”

Despite your request, he turned on the lamp next to him, revealing you in your panties, with one hand holding your shirt and the other on the door handle. “Where are you off to all of a sudden?” he asked, confused and still groggy. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you,” you apologized while you pulled your shirt on over your head. “I couldn’t sleep so I thought I’d just go home.” 

He sat up and rubbed his eyes. “You don’t have to go home, darling. Give me a minute to wake up and I’m sure we can find something to do to tire you out,” he insinuated. 

You shook your head. “Really, Tom. I’m fine. I think I’d just rather sleep in my own bed tonight.”

He sighed. “I knew something was wrong,” he said, his voice sounding a mix between concerned and frustrated as he leaned his head back against the headboard.

“Nothing is wrong,” you lied. “I have a lot of shit to do tomorrow anyway, so it’s better if I just go home now.”

“Fine,” he conceded, getting out of bed and walking toward you. “But will you be free after my interview? I’m either going to want to celebrate or try to forget about it.” He put his hands on your hips and pulled you flush against him.

You looked down and shook your head. “I’m sorry, I can’t.”

“Why? Do you have a hot date or something?” he teased, giving your hips a playful squeeze.

“I thought we agreed not to talk about that stuff,” you said seriously.

His face fell. “So, you do?”

You looked back up at him, slightly annoyed that he insisted on having this conversation. “Does it matter if I do or not?” 

“No, I suppose not,” he replied, letting his hands fall from your hips and taking a step back.

“Great. Glad that’s settled,” you told him, trying to sound as emotionless as possible before leaving the bedroom to find your shorts and jacket. Tom didn’t follow you. With tears in your eyes again you finished getting dressed and went home.

Taglist: @chronicallybubbly , @the-princess-of-loki , @princess-ofthe-pages , @darcylikesloki , @kikster606 , @foxherder , @simone818283 , @newtomofgods @christinebloodwrittings @tom-hlover , @lulubelle814 , @kingliam2019

[theambitiouswoman]

I’ve been struggling with feelings of loneliness for years. I’ve met many people and tried to make friends, but I’ve never found someone who truly feels like a good match for me. Most of the time, I noticed that people enjoy gossiping, that I couldn’t trust them, or that their kindness felt insincere. Because of this, I slowly distanced myself from them since we never really connected. Since I work from home, I haven’t had many opportunities to be in social environments, which has always made it difficult for me to make friends. Right now, I only have 2 friends, but even with them, we barely talk anymore. Over time, I feel like our bond has weakened as well. This has always made me see myself as weird or even pathetic because I can’t go out and have fun with friends like others do. I’m 23, and I feel like my youth is slipping away. Since I can’t seem to change this mindset, I’ve lost my confidence, and I no longer feel motivated to do anything. The only person I truly feel close to is my boyfriend. Do you have any advice or suggestions on how I can change my perspective on this? I’d really appreciate it. Thank you so much💗

A lot of people struggle with loneliness, especially in adulthood when deep connections are harder to make.

Instead of focusing on the number of friends, shift your focus to quality over quantity. Some with big friend groups still feel lonely. It’s about finding one or two people who align with you, and that takes time.

People with large friend groups often seem to have it all together, but these groups can lack depth. Having many people around doesn’t always mean healthy connections. Some may enjoy the energy of a crowd but still feel disconnected.

The key difference is that those with deep, quality friendships feel genuinely supported. Having a few close friends is more rewarding than trying to keep up with a big group.

Since you work from home, try putting yourself in environments where like minded people get together—meetups, co working spaces, or online communities. Friendships take time but consistency and shared experiences build connection.

Confidence comes from feeling secure in who you are, even when alone. Instead of focusing on "fixing" this, focus on nurturing yourself. Do things you love, even solo—explore, visit a café, or take a class. The more you embrace your own company, the more you’ll attract the right people.

Don’t underestimate the friendships you already have. Even if you don’t talk often, a simple “Hey, I miss you” could help rekindle the bond. Remember that you also have to be there for people and make time for them when they need you. They also want to feel cared about and appreciated too. Real friends don’t always talk daily, but they’re still there.

The right people will come. Stay open to them.

[riddle-me-fear]

Who tops? 😈

[don't think I need to put this here, but disclaimer anyway: tw sex and mature language]

Edward Nygma | The Riddler

Haaah yes, I knew this question would come up sooner or later.

Jonathan Crane | The Scarecrow

... I'm leavin'.

Edward Nygma | The Riddler

But Jooon, this is the perfect opportunity to practice! See, anon, he doesn't like to talk about these topics in front of others. Riddle me this, Jon, how can you possibly call yourself the master of fear, if you can't even face your own?

Jonathan Crane | The Scarecrow

...

That exploitation shit ye'r doin'? It's sickening.

Edward Nygma | The Riddler

Glad you're staying with us, Jon. Now, to answer your question: Both of us. I top him, he tops me, whatever we feel like in the moment.

Jonathan Crane | The Scarecrow

Mmmh ya take it a lot mo' often tho.

Edward Nygma | The Riddler

Aaaah, I beg to differ. See, when I bottom, we do it once and call it a day. When you bottom, you want it several times in a row. And sometimes we even switch it up in the middle of it. So yes, in frequency, it may seem like I take it more often, but I'd argue, looking at the picture in total, we're actually quite matched.

Jonathan Crane | The Scarecrow

... Ya know, I know ya have da compulsion ta be right all the time. An' we've been together fo' a long time. Still naht used to it. An' I don't think I eva will.

Edward Nygma | The Riddler

Oh don't try to pin this on me now, just because you've still got so much toxic masculinity within yourself that you don't want to admit that I'm right. For crying out loud, you still refuse to call yourself gay or bi to this day.

Jonathan Crane | The Scarecrow

Fuck's sake, Eddie, we've had dis argument a gazillion times befo'.

Edward Nygma | The Riddler

Don't you "Eddie" me! Being romantically and sexually involved with a man, even if it's "just one man" still makes you gay, Jon! And if you're also into women, that makes you bi! Or pan, or whatever more orientations are out there nowadays.

Jonathan Crane | The Scarecrow

Fuckin' 'ell, if we weren't a thing, I'd only be interested in women. Nah that makes me straight, don't it?

Edward Nygma | The Riddler

But oh! There's something incredibly trivial you're forgetting here. News flash: we ARE a thing, Jon! And there's NO shame in admitting you enjoy getting fucked in the ass, just as much as I do. Oh, and your claim that I'm the only man you're interested in? - bull-fucking-shit. If you were given the opportunity to have the absolute SHIT railed out of you by Sinestro RIGHT this second for as long and often as you wanted, TELL ME me RIGHT NOW to my FACE you wouldn't take it!

Jonathan Crane | The Scarecrow

...

...

Edward Nygma | The Riddler

Well??

Jonathan Crane | The Scarecrow

I hate'chu so much sometimes.

Edward Nygma | The Riddler

Didn't answer my question, Jooon.

Jonathan Crane | The Scarecrow

Hhhhh, yes. ...Yes I'd fuckin' take it.

Edward Nygma | The Riddler

See? That wasn't so hard, now, was it?

Jonathan Crane | The Scarecrow

Still fuckin' hate you.

Edward Nygma | The Riddler

Naaaw, is my pumpkin pie upset? Tell you what, I'll service you tonight, alright? You can play pillow princess and I'll do it just the way you like it. My treat.

Jonathan Crane | The Scarecrow

... As often as I want?

Edward Nygma | The Riddler

Until my back hurts, my knees ache and I pass out from exhaustion next to you.

Jonathan Crane | The Scarecrow

... Aight.

Edward Nygma | The Riddler

Will thou ever forgive me for all this torment I've brought upon thee, my love?

Jonathan Crane | The Scarecrow

Heheheh, depends how many rounds ya can last.

Edward Nygma | The Riddler

Aaaaah! Are you hearing this, anon? The pure audacity. First he's being a jerk, then he's a cheeky bastard. Unbelievable.

[procelibacyactivism]

according to history books, during the industrial revolution women routinely did the most dangerous jobs like crawling into mines and illustrations of this stuff that's been burned in my mind for like a decade and a half. If you lack power, you lack the ability/opportunity to get a decent job, like women were for pretty much their entire history up until very recently. women were left to do women's work which was some of the most difficult shit out there. working in a commercial laundry wasn't easy and being a maid and servant often meant being at the whims of privileged men who thought that being cruel to you was funny. because women were essentially lower rank than men, they got the worst jobs. there's historical documentaries where even the narrators take time to point out how some of these men would take pictures of their maid passed out from being exhausted after doing shit for them that they could literally have done themselves. tbh

the thing we all need to say loudly and more often is that not only did women always work throughout history, but the kinds of work they had to engage in were often longer-lasting, harder, more boring, more emotionally taxing, more fundamentally necessary for continued survival, and above all, they did the majority of it. the majority of work in the world was done by women, this has been true for millennia, and is still true today.

[energeticpoltergeist]

good time to mention im not just a one fandom guy- yep im into FE as well, and my brayne has decided to make that it's current focus (it has a habit of jumping fandom to fandom at random) anyways this was created cause my two friends have no idea what the fuck i am talking about half the time when it comes to Fire Emblem

[lgbtlunaverse]

While I think the moment in cql where Meng Yao– still bleeding from a stab wound in his chest btw– realizes Lan Xichen is in danger and decides to save the man who was so kind to him in cloud recesses is cute and all, nothing will ever beat the book for me. Little bookkeeper civilian Meng Yao, who has not had a serious chance to make his dreams of being a cultivator come true in fucking years, out of nowhere gets the fucking sect leader of Gusu Lan dropped right in his lap?

It's such a great example of Meng Yao's multilayered motivations to me. Because is civilian Meng Yao thinking of all the ways he can use this? Of the fact that having a great sect leader in his debt is the best thing that could happen to him? Duh. Obviously.

Is he very purposeful about appearing to Lan Xichen as a kind young man full of untapped potential, brave and willing to put his life on the line even though he really doesn't know so much about about cultivators, no sir, except a little he picked up here and there, because you see his father– 👉👈 Of course he is!

But the way through which he does that is... by actually saving Lan Xichen's life, at no doubt significant personal risk. The way he makes Lan Xichen believe he's kind and selfless is by... being kind and selfless. Just because he's doing it on purpose doesn't mean he's not doing it.

Is it lying if you want people to think you're nice and so you're nice to them? Isn't that just called being nice? Yes, he is very purposeful about how he appears to people, and very carefully crafts an image based on what he wants them to think of him, but most of the time he does that simply by... actually being the kind of person he wants to appear as. He still did the kind things he did, regardless of his motivations for doing them.