#being mean includes like exploitative

[flavia8]

I've come to the conclusion that I can read and enjoy the most fucked up literature as long as it doesn't feel mean. It's hard to explain but as long as the book/manga/comic/whatever doesn't feel mean spirited I'm totally down.

[uncanny-tranny]

The bourgeois or "exploiting class" doesn't inherently include the person who gets their nails done biweekly, or the disabled person who has a carer, or the guy who got a $70 video game for full-price, or the person who relies on medication (yes even the ones you don't think they "need"), or anything else like this. None of these people will, on average, have the ability to exploit workers by means of ownership or whatever.

While you are busy fighting with fellow workers, you are still being exploited by your boss, by capitalism, by (potentially) not having healthcare, by being overworked and underpaid, and so are they.

[dukeofankh]

If your vision for the deradicalization of right-wing men begins and ends with "other men telling them that that's gross and to stop it" then I'm sorry, you do not understand how masculinity works.

"Men who hold patriarchal status" and "men who are feminists" are two groups who overlap less than you want them to. I'm sorry. That's not solely because men are so happy with patriarchal status that they don't want to risk it by policing misogyny/queerphobia/racism, It's because being misogynistic, queerphobic, and racist, end expressing other forms of toxic masculinity(and often abusively so) are part of how people establish and maintain patriarchal status. The men who have the ability to stop this via nothing but peer pressure are the very people who are doing it. That's by design. And engaging in feminist intervention is, in and of itself, usually the abrupt end of that status and its associated power to persuade misogynistic men.

Like, I have worked in blue collar jobs as a notably queer person. It was pretty much a constant deluge of verbal abuse. In my experience, most blue collar work environments are exploitative, abusive, and bigoted, and very gleefully so. On the occasions I have spoken up about someone saying something that was super fucking out of line (asking me which of the girls walking by was hottest. We were installing a portable classroom at a middle school), believe it or not, they completely failed to be shamed! Because nobody else on the crew gave a fuck. *I* was the weird one. They ghosted me. A full blown company ghosted me. I suddenly didn't have a job anymore because they just straightforwardly stopped telling me where the next job site was.

Like, this doesn't mean that it's your job to do it, but this vision you have of these big groups of men where everyone is on the fence and there is precisely one shit stirrer who can be shut down by a brave feminist man who can single handedly set the example for all these other guys...you are high. You are describing an "everybody clapped" level absurd scenario. Most of these truly virulent misogynistic guys either have zero friends, because, you know, our society is atomized to fuck, or they are in a group where the feminist guy is actually the weirdo who can be shut down and ostracized much, much easier than the misogynists, because there is no such thing as a man misogynists respect who stands up for women.

You might be saying "well, we're talking about longstanding personal relationships, actually. Like, they need to have to want to spend time with you and then, as a side effect, you can mind control them out of being a threat to us."

Problem with that being:

1: Many feminist men also have no friends, see the atomized society above.

2: Feminist men already stopped hanging out with men who make rape jokes because why the fuck would we want to spend time with them.

3: That isn't just because we respect women so hard. We are in many cases talking about men who are also deeply queerphobic, heirarchical, violent and abusive to other men. What initially drew me to feminism and women was a lack of heirarchical squabbling and constant bullying, and the ability to be openly queer. A lot of men who came to feminism did so because they knew that the patriarchy was not a place they would find success or acceptance. These are not the men who are gonna be able to change right wing minds.

4. Men do not view themselves as a monolith. There is no universal brotherhood of men. The actual meaning of the term "Fragile masculinity" is that men are constantly expected to prove that they are deserving of the status of being a member of their own gender. There are large swathes of men--including most of the men who you'd look to as examples of good, feminist men who you want to undertake this project--who are considered failed men, sissies, f****ts, soyboys, ect. They are. Not. Going. To. Convince. These. Men. Of. Jack. Shit. Much less successfully *shame* them. Jesus.

I know all of this sucks. I know it would be cool to be able to just point at a group and have them be responsible for the work. But nah. It's gonna have to be a societal project, one that will probably outlast all of us. Sorry. The thing you want these men to do is, absolutely, the morally correct thing to do. But presuming that it would be effective is, and once again I am so sorry about this, just ignorance of how these social groups function.

[somecunttookmyurl]

you probably have the same liver issue i do but in the opposite direction bc i hate to tell you this but that is ALSO not a normal response to caffeine (but in the other direction). hi yang! im yin.

and as someone with chronic pain and adhd who is immune (or highly resistant) to painkillers, local anaesthetic, amphetamines, benzodiazepines, caffeine, and with an alcohol tolerance that has (if nothing else) won me several bets who is basically rawdogging life not by choice but by virtue of my liver being Just Such A Fucking Asshole About It i am alive through sheer spite

this is why i have a pair of booty shorts with "god won't let me die" on the ass

a fun and fucked up fact about me is that when i was in sixth form (16-18), approximately 10 years prior to being diagnosed ADHD, i drank SO MUCH store brand energy drink that 2 things happened

1) It became such an obvious and well known Thing about me that my tutors started putting "too much red bull can kill you" news articles on the walls. These were not present in rooms I didn't have classes in. It was not a college-wide initiative. That was for me, specifically. Nobody said it but we all knew.

2) Several friends suggested, in all seriousness, I contact the Guinness Book of Records to set a record for "most caffeine consumed with no physical effect" after I had 3x 1 litre bottles in about an hour and my heart rate was still exactly the same and nothing about my demeanour had changed at all. Meanwhile Ryan had 1 bottle and was physically vibrating. Because he's normal.

(I didn't do it because it would require having a medical professional present the whole time to verify and like absolutely nobody with a medical degree is going to do that in good conscience)

[poppyberry]

Everybody NEEDS to listen to the new Wild Life retrospective on Imp and Skizz's podcast. They got Grian called in and they give so many cool insights into the series (and honestly say so many things I think people need to hear)

Highlights for me:

Grian designed each wild card to be weaponized and wanted everyone to take advantage of them. He goes over each individually and all the thought he put into them and all the work the backend team put into their execution. He's rightfully really proud of them. Him gushing about Trivia Bot and how excited he was to show his friends the "coolest snail ever" is particularly sweet.

Skizz says discovering each wild card was a LOT of fun. He says something like "I can't believe as an adult I get to have so much fun." Impulse is really impressed with the execution of each, citing stuff like making it rain when the time one activated and the passive mobs spawning in before being replaced, and how the little details like that built excitement and tension.

Grian says how he understands that some viewers maybe just want more seasons of the essentially the same series, ie six seasons of just Third Life, but it's more important to him that the Lifers get to experience something new and fresh. He also doesn't like comparing each series, preferring to consider each one as its own thing.

Impulse can't wait to do another Life series, Skizz is equally excited but tries to hold discussion about it back since he doesn't want anyone pressuring Grian, who is palpably burned out. Like, you can hear how tired this man is. Grian says there will probably be more series since everyone is still enjoying it, but he's not trying to outdo himself and not to expect him to keep escalating.

Skizz always tries to do something new each season yet feels like he always falls back into the same habits and dynamics, but not this time: he feels like he got to explore a new dynamic with the Spanners and had a blast doing it. He and Grian gush about how much fun they had with their "big brother trying to keep his little brothers alive" routine.

They have a grand time making fun of Impulse and his "Sweats". Impulse is unabashedly still hungry to win a series.

Impulse didn't want to kill zombie Skizz, because of the five minute cooldown, but Skizz makes clear that he was really happy with being a zombie, even if there was a lot of doing nothing in between summons. He says it means a lot to him that he got to help with the burden of facilitating the series, even just a little bit.

Grian gives good insight into his personal life strategy: he does some things to deliberately test his relationship with other players. Standing in the Danger Zone was a trust exercise, testing Jimmy and Scar. Jimmy and Scar failed.

Despite Scar failing the trust exercise, Grian heard the disappointment in Scar's voice about the Snail Bot thing and immediately caved, but he's really happy that it led them to in-canon reconciling and becoming strong allies again.

Grian's favorite moment was making Jimmy pay for the failed trust exercise by blowing up the bunker, particularly pleased with his one liner of "it was always gonna be like this". He says Wild Life as a whole has been the most enjoyable series for him, even though he didn't get to have as much fun as the other players due to knowing all the wild cards.

All three of them gush over the scene of everybody failing to kill Joel as he teleports around, laughing about how it was straight out of a movie or an anime. Impulse feels like Joel took his superpower to a new level, but Grian reminds him the he didn't have an army chasing him around trying to kill him. They're all super impressed with how the finale turned out.

Some of the powers were assigned (Cleo, BigB, BDubs, Scar, Lizzie), some were random (Impulse, Martyn). Some were based on players' names, others on their personal narratives, but coming up with ~16 different powers without including any that would just be exploited for cheap instakills was really difficult, which is why there were so many espionage ones. Hilariously, Grian was hoping Scar would accidentally kill Jimmy by punching him off a cliff because of their ritual of trying punching in the earlier episodes. He also gave Scar that power because he knew Scar wouldn't feel bad about killing people with it.

Grian chose to give himself the mimic so he could show people how their powers worked if he needed to, and so that it wasn't given to somebody else who'd have to spend the whole session figuring out the mechanics of 15 separate superpowers and potentially dying because of it. And because he thinks its the coolest one and he wanted it (lol)

All around there's tons of fun details and stuff in this episode of the podcast and absolutely everybody should listen to it all the way through.

[veganterrorist]

SHEIN and Temu aren't the innocent, budget friendly alternatives you may think them to be. They're both companies rooted in exploitative, inhumane business practices, including dehumanising working conditions and slave labour. There's a viral video going around that shows a large amount of Temu factory workers, barely clothed and being observed by security guards, as they sort through thousands upon thousands of packages.

These companies thrive on enticing people from lower socioeconomic backgrounds into overspending by using game-like incentives (interactive spin wheels to increase discounts, minigames revolved around adding more items to your cart or wishlist, etc.) while using their apps. These apps are carefully and consciously designed in such a specific way that encourages people to feel pressured into overspending for fear of missing out on an unmissable deal (this is a common business practice that extends far beyond SHEIN, Temu, and other fast fashion companies).

Their apparel and clothing is made as cheaply as possible with poor quality material (which ultimately means these items have to be replaced sooner and thus help perpetuate a toxic consumerist cycle) and often using stolen art and designs from independent artists. Do yourself a favour and stop supporting the toxic fast fashion industry. Thrifting, upcycling, and learning to make DIY clothing are infinitely better alternatives and help to support your local community.

[dolche-tejada]

You know, I think this ending would have been slightly less of a fucking disappointment if the heroes hadn't been so unfairly favored by Horikoshi compared to the villains. I mean, seriously

Deku destroys every bone in his body multiple times throughout the story and is warned that if he continues, he'll permanently lose the use of his limbs ? Everything's fine, his body's just got used to being reduced to a bloody pulp somehow so there's no consequences for him. In fact even when he literally loses his arms to Shigaraki, he gets them back two minutes later thanks to Eri because guess what ? Her horn still works even when cut off from her body. How convenient.

Gran Torino gets his ribcage obliterated by Shigaraki ? Don't worry guys, he'll survive that despite his old age and injuries, and this to have no particular role in the plot afterwards.

Bakugo dies heroically trying to buy time before Deku arrives ? Lmao, did you really believe it ?? No of course not, Edgeshot just uses his last-minute Deus Ex Machina to save his life at the cost of his own and- Oops nope he's fine too, my bad !

Hawks murders a criminal fleeing for his life in cold-blood ? The best Hori has to offer is him completely free and in charge of the HSPC.

And no, losing his quirk isn't a real consequence for him because not only it literally played a major part in saving the world with Vestige!Hawks raising an insurrection among AFO's quirks, but also because his quirk has always been the element through which people exploited him.

Endeavor abused his family for years and completely destroyed his eldest son ? No jail time and no media backlash for that, the only blame he received was due to the heroes' failure to stop the League during the Raid Arc.

And don't even get me started on this bs about facing hell or whatever for what he's done : He's literally free and wealthy ; he have Rei, Fuyumi, Shoto, his sidekicks and Hawks on his side ; and all the difficulties he's apparently going to suffer are off-screened.

Deku had to sacrifice OFA and his future hero career to save the world ? Guess what, Bakugo invested all his time and money to make him an Iron-Man suit and now he can still be a hero with everyone else.

There are plenty more examples of this but I think you get the idea. Now let's take a look at the villains' ending :

Toya is now a piece of charcoal kept artificially alive for the few years he has left, unable to move a finger, and whose few minutes a day during which he can stay awake will be spent talking to his father who abused him as a child.

Toga, a literal teenager, killed herself to save Ochako and because she knew it's still better than rotting at Tartarus her whole life.

And not only did she die but she did by bleding to death. Let me repeat for those who have trouble grasping what I've just said : In a manga where the heroes can survive having their heart blown to bits, being impaled Kakyoin-style or smashed against buildings like a fly on a windshield, one of the main antagonists died of a fucking hemorrhage…

As for Shigaraki, after learning that his very birth and all the tragedies of his life have been orchestrated by AFO, after all this development and narrative promises about him being saved in the end... Deku just kills him.

Because despite all his speeches about saving him, it seems like the best he could do was beating him both physically and mentally until he crumbles to dust…

Compress on his side is apparently locked up for life and kept alive by machines too.

A begging Kurogiri tried in a desperate attempt to save Shigaraki, only to be unceremoniously blown up by Bakugo and dying off-screen without anyone giving a shit, including Aizawa and Mic.

And Spinner will now spend the rest of his life struggling with the extra quirks inside him that affect his body and mind, while having to cope with the thought that his boyfriend best friend and companions have either died alone or are locked away for life in horrifying circumstances.

Clearly not the same as with the heroes...

Now don't get me wrong, even if they suffered just as much from the consequences of their actions or the plot as the League, this ending would still be a disaster in terms of writing but AT LEAST it wouldn't reek that much of hypocrisy.

[fakebwitch]

mean nerdy!rafe helps reader with physics…

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you played with your hands while walking along the corridor that would lead you to his dorm. you stopped recognizing the number of his room, you took a deep breath trying to relax yourself as you raised your hand, knocking two times on the wooden door. after a few seconds the door opened wide, your eyes met the figure of rafe, a white polo shirt with simple brown pants, his face decorated with a delicate pair of glasses. he gave you a small look before moving leaving you some space to enter, “come in”.

choosing rafe cameron as your tutor was one of the last things you would have wanted. you had tried to ask other students but everyone was busy with their sessions or they already had too many people to tutor for, and he was your last hope. he was a few years older than you and was fucking good at any scientific subject - math, physics, chemistry, biology - always getting the best grades, and this did nothing but increase his ego, exploiting his excellent knowledge as an excuse to be arrogant and presumptuous. your grades were really bad and failing in physics was certainly not among your plans, so you had to resort to his help.

you would never have thought that he would agree to give you private lessons, you thought that he would have much better things to do, like studying for the next sessions or maybe he already had someone else to whom he dedicated his time, instead he looked at you for a few seconds — maybe feeling your despair — and accepted, giving you an appointment for friday at 5 p.m. at his dorm.

you get inside, a strong smell of cigarette with a vanilla room perfumer flooded your nostrils. the room was quite tidy, very minimally furnished with few personal decorations — unlike yours— there was a small bookcase full of books, and not to mention his desk, covered with scribbled sheets, just as you had imagined it. he sat on one of the chairs fixing his hair, “sit” he said looking at you, you did as he said by sitting in front of him, placing your bag on the chair next to you.

“let’s just start” he said crossing his hands on the table, you nodded taking out your book with a small notebook, as well as a small pencil case. “what do you want to start with?” he asked you, his look stinging while waiting for your answer, you had never had a real conversation with him and being aware of his character you didn’t really know how to behave, you didn’t want to look stupid in his eyes. you opened the book showing him the topic you hadn’t understood, rafe gave him a little look without uttering a word, an imperceptible “mhm” was audible to you while he took his notes.

before you noticed it he began to explain, his words fluid and clear while he gestured lightly with his hands, his eyes fixed on yours sometimes fell on his notes or on your book showing you what he was referring to, not even the slightest difficulty transpired from his speeches, as if he was talking about a banal topic that did not include the most complicated formulas and most absurd meanings. holding his gaze was difficult for you, having to focus your attention on something other than his sharp blue eyes. no matter how much you got lost in the details of his face and how he seemed so involved in what he was explaining to you you could not afford distractions, you had to listen and you had to understand above all what he was saying, or you would not have solved anything.

he stopped leaning his back on the back of the chair, the biceps muscle contracted as he scratched the back of his neck, “got it?” it was all he said, his tone almost arrogant as if not understanding what he said was stupid. “yeah” you nodded placing the pen on the table, on the sheet of your notebook some small sentences were visible concerning some important formulas or terminologies.

“we need to make a little practice” he said taking your book in his hands, flipping through the pages in search of some exercise to put into practice what he explained. the room felt suffocatingly quiet, his presence was intimidating, his sharp gaze like a dagger that kept you on edge.

“let’s try this problem” he said, sliding the book across the table toward you. his hand brushed yours briefly, and you felt a jolt shoot up your arm. it was ridiculous how much his touch affected you, how even his scent—a mix of clean cologne and the faint, lingering cigarette smoke—was making your head spin. “okay” you murmured, trying to focus on the equation scribbled on the paper. but your mind was anything but clear. you picked up the pen, feeling his eyes on you, watching every move you made as if you were under a microscope. he got up from his seat, your breath hitched as you heard his slow step approaching you. you tried to shake it off, focusing your attention to what you should’ve solved, but then he stopped right behind you, you could feel his presence towering you, his scents even more clear now that he was so close to you.

“you’re doing it wrong” he said, leaning closer. his voice was low and curt, but not cruel. he reached out, his large hand covering yours as he guided your pen across the page. his touch was firm, his skin warm, and you found yourself holding your breath as he pressed against your back. “there. that’s how you set it up” he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. his breath ghosted across your cheek, and you couldn’t help but turn slightly, catching the edge of his jawline and the curve of his lips in your peripheral vision. he was so close you could see the flecks of gold in his blue eyes when he glanced at you.

“are you even paying attention?” his words snapped you out of your thoughts, and you blinked, heat flooding your cheeks. “y-yeah, I’m paying attention” you stammered, though your voice betrayed you.

rafe smirked, the corner of his mouth quirking up. “doesn’t look like it.” he sat on the chair next to you, his eyes never leaving yours. there was something about his expression—arrogant, almost predatory—that made your stomach flutter in the most inconvenient way.

“i said I’m paying attention” you repeated, your voice a little firmer this time, your eyes never leaving his. you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing how flustered you were.

“hmm” he hummed, tilting his head as if he were trying to figure you out. “prove it. solve the next one on your own.” he slid another sheet toward you, his fingers lingering on the edge of the paper. “let’s see if you actually learned anything.” his voice provocative, almost amused by the situation, as if he knew the kind of effect he was having on you. you did your best to hold back, the words threatened to come out of your mouth but you swallowed them; being given private lessons by the best student was certainly not something that happened to everyone, and you could not afford to lose this privilege just to retort his stupid provocations.

you picked up the pen, determined to prove him wrong, even if your heart was pounding like a drum. the numbers and formulas blurred in front of you, and you could feel the weight of his gaze, the heat of his body still lingering near yours. you tried your best, but you didn’t even have the slightest idea of where to start. minutes passed, and each seconds you became more discouraged, his gaze fixed on you almost judging you and you couldn’t take it anymore. “I can’t,” you admitted, your voice barely audible.

rafe chuckled softly, shaking his head. “of course you can’t.” he stood up, moving behind you. you felt your chair shift as he placed his hands on the backrest, leaning over your shoulder to look at your work. his voice was close to your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. “let me show you again.” you froze as his hands settled lightly on your shoulders, his thumbs brushing against the base of your neck. it felt too intimate, too intentional, but he didn’t seem fazed. instead, he leaned closer, his chest just barely grazing your back as he reached for the notebook.

“this is where you keep screwing up” he murmured, his tone low and deliberate. “you’re overthinking it.” his hands squeezed your shoulders lightly before one slid down your arm, guiding your hand to pick up the pen again.

you could barely focus on what he was saying. every nerve in your body was hyperaware of his touch, the heat radiating off him as he stayed impossibly close. you managed to scrawl out the equation under his guidance, but your mind was a mess, the numbers meaningless.

when he finally pulled back, his lips brushed your ear as he whispered, “see? wasn’t so hard.” your breath hitched, and you turned to look at him, your faces dangerously close. his smirk widened, his eyes flickering down to your lips before meeting your gaze again. the air between you felt heavy, charged.

“rafe—” you started, but your words faltered when he leaned in, his hand brushing your jaw as he tilted your face up. “relax” he said, his voice a mix of command and tease. “you’re way too tense” his thumb grazed your cheek, and before you could think, his lips were on yours—soft but insistent, a mixture of dominance and curiosity.

you were shocked by his gesture, it took you a few seconds to actually realize that his lips were on yours, and that he was kissing you. your hands tightened around his face pushing him towards you, the kiss quickly became more intense, both fighting for dominance.

rafe pulled away from the kiss trying to catch his breath, but was taken by surprise by your lips again on his, eager to taste his soft lips again. one of your hands went down his chest, pushing him so that he was sitting on the chair next to yours, and in a quick movement you sat on his lap. rafe didn’t utter a word, leaving you free to do whatever you wanted; he couldn’t hide his amusement in seeing you so eager, taking the lead.

his hand tightened around your chin, moving you away from his lips. his intense eyes stared at you for what seemed like an eternity, admiring the way you seemed so desperate after just one kiss, your lips flushed and your hair already messy, your eyes stared at him with a burning desire that you could no longer hide.

“so eager are we?” he was teasing you, a faint laugh left his lips. you tried to speak but his hand was too tight and you knew that if you opened your mouth nothing sensible would come out, he would only have made fun of you. he let go of the grip on your chin, letting it wrap more gently under the jaw, angled your face while his lips approached your cheek, placing a sloppled kiss right under your ear. you bit your lip closing your eyes while his kisses followed the line of your jaw, slowly going down towards your neck. for sure that bastard knew how to use his lips.

his lips moved skillfully against your neck, sucking and wetting the skin. unknowingly your hips began to move against his lap, looking for a desperate clutch with his bulge, your pussy almost praying to be touched. his free hand tightened around your waist stopping your movements, his lips let go of your neck bringing his gaze back to you. “didn’t know you were so needy” he said lowly almost as if he was talking to himself, his cock semi hard in his pants and he could feel through the thin material of your panties a wet spot.

"you were the one who kissed me first," you replied, raising an eyebrow, the corner of your mouth lifting into a sly smirk. you weren't lying-it had been him. he kissed you first, set everything into motion, and now here you were, the one craving more, so typical of him.

his gaze darkened, a low chuckle rumbling in his chest. "and you were the one who couldn't keep your hands off me, pushing me back so you could grind on my dick" his voice was low, dripping with heat, each word sinking into you. “just a consequence of your gestures” you said shrugging your shoulders, rafe couldn’t help but laugh at your answer.

“i think we should do less talking” he said in a whisper, resting his lips on yours, this time he didn’t stop you, letting you rub yourself on his bulge, earning you little whinings from him. his hand tightened around your breasts, squeezing it between his hand, you weren’t wearing a bra so it was easy for him to feel your hard nipple and squeeze it between his fingers through the material of the shirt, earning a small gasp from you.

“you want this?” he asked you, as if it wasn’t already obvious enough. but he needed to hear you say it, just to boost his ego even more. his hand made space under your skirt, playing with your panties. “yes” you answered without hesitation, the need between your legs growing more and more. his thumb gently brushed your clit, moving in a circular way, the contact sent a shiver all over your back and you couldn’t help but let out a little whine at the slightest pleasure he was making you feel.

“stop teasing” you ordered him in a firm voice, your hands clenched around his shoulders in search of support. “as you prefer” he replied in a moking tone, a grin on his face. without wasting more time with two fingers he moved the material to the side, with two fingers he collected all your wetness. he started teasing your clit again with his thumb, this time, however, he pushed two of his fingers inside you, a big gasp left your lips to the sudden intrusion. his fingers moved quickly and with experts inside you, touching all the spots that made you shudder, as if he knew you for years and knew by heart how to make you melt.

your head fell back completely overwhelmed by pleasure, small and continuous moans kept coming out of your mouth, unable to contain you. rafe loved how responsive you were, your moans were like a sweet song to his ears and he couldn’t help it, he angled his fingers inside you, his pace getting faster and faster making you continue with your melody. “love your pretty sounds” he said, his eyes completely fixed on you while his hands worked on you like no one had ever done, “fuck... just like this” you incited him, your voice choked completely out of breath, your hips moved slightly, riding his fingers.

you could still feel his hard cock against the soft skin of your thigh, and for the pleasure he was making you feel you couldn’t help but reciprocate. you brought your hands to his belt, unbuttoning it quickly, you unbuttoned his pants and with your fingers you tightened the zipper pushing it all the way down with a quick movement. you stopped for a few seconds, your legs trembled while rafe continued to hit your spongy spot. you continued your work by pulling out his cock, his pink and swollen tip practically screaming to be taken care of, he was long and thick. lke a magnet your hand tightened around it, your thumb rubbed on the fluffy skin of his tip.

“g-goddamn...” his head fell back, a spit fell from your mouth ending directly on his tip, using your fingers you spread it along the entire length, quickly working the hand around him. his expression was simply fantastic, his face corrugated, his eyebrows sulked while his mouth emitted small pathetic whimpers. despite this his fingers continued to abuse your little wet hole, his free hand tightened tightly around your thigh, his fingers dug into the soft skin leaving a mark.

“f-fuck” his voice completely broken as he continued to moan your name, your walls tightened around his fingers at the sight below you. you could not explain what you were feeling, in seeing a presumptuous, unpleasant, proud guy like him completely wrapped around fingers, a mess of moans and whines, bringing yourself closer and closer to the orgasm.

slimy sounds filled the room, coming from both of you. you tightened your hand around his tip, focusing on it again, having realized how sensitive he was. “h-holy shiiit baby” a broken moan came out of his mouth and you could feel his legs shaking under you, he was close.

and you were too.

he could feel it, from how your moans were more persistent and how your pussy was clenching around him, almost trapping his fingers. “as much as I love you pretty hand around me, i fucking need to be inside you” and so he took out his fingers, your hole clenched around nothing as you felt your stomach squirm for the orgasm just denied. your hand around his cock stopped,you watched him with a pout, even if you knew that in a few seconds you would finally have his cock inside you.

“you better make it worth” you provoked him. you knew he would fall into your trap, “oh don’t worry angel... you know I’ve got you.” and before you could realize his cock slung inside you, his length made space inside you while his thickness widened your walls. rafe let out a choked moan at the sensation of your warm walls, which welcomed him inside him. “feels soo good around me... so fucking tight” he praised you, his hand was around the flesh of your ass, holding it in his hands.

without giving you a any time to get used to him, he began to push himself hard inside you, his tip hit in no time your cervical. he helped you take off the shirt you were wearing, throwing it somewhere in the room. his hand immediately tightened around your breasts, squeezing it. he gave you an hard slap on the ass as his hot mouth wrapped around your nipple, sucking it and biting it lightly. you wrapped your hands in his hair, pushing him closer to your chest, completely ruining his carefully done hairstyle.

you don’t know what happened to you, but you put your hands on his shoulders, pushing him backwards so that his back was against the back of the chair, you dug your nails into his skin while you crossed his gaze — confused but intrigued by your sudden gesture of dominance — his cock stopped inside you. you began to ride him, your hips moved quickly as a hand of rafe came down to stop firmly on your waist, his glasses completely fogged. “shit rafe... feels so good inside me” you said with a big moan, his big cock sank into your hot and wet pussy. you lowered your face meeting his lips, the kiss was completely messy, your tongues quickly collided with each other, the salivas mixed together as well as your cum inside you.

“look so beautiful like this... riding me so fucking good” he said with clenched teeth, another hard slap on your ass. “i’m cumming” you said immediately after hearing his words, you could feel the weight in your stomach grow. rafe’s hips met your thrusts, while his hand went down, the index and middle finger moved quickly in a circular way on your clit, leading you to high.

with a big moan you finally reached your climax, your movements slowed down abruptly, your legs trembled at the intense pleasure achieved, and if it hadn’t been for his hands tight around your body you were sure that you would have already fallen. “fuuck” your pussy tightened around his cock, releasing your cum that was covering his tip inside you.

“that’s it baby, took me so well... f-fuck gonna cum” his voice hoarse as he used his last forces to push himself inside you, trying to reach his orgasm. it took you a few seconds to recover from the insane orgasm you had just had, despite the sense of overstimulation you moved your hips slowly, meeting his thrusts. “shit... here we go” when he feel he’s reached the limit he pulled out, he squeezed a hand around his length moving it quickly up and down, with a few pumps splashes of his cum finally fell on your lower stomach.

“thaaat’s it” his words dragged as he fully enjoyed the sensation, his hand tight around the tip not wanting to waste even a drop. without thinking twice you brought two fingers along your stomach, collecting his cum and then bringing your fingers to your mouth, savoring its flavor.

he didn’t say anything, but his gestures spoke clearly. he approached to give you one last intense kiss, savoring himself on your tongue, his hand gave a last slap to your ass before finally detaching from your lips, “we have to continue studying” he said, suddenly returning seriously. he lifted you slightly so that you were sitting on the chair next to him.

he got up from his chair, adjusting his pants and polo while sitting in front of you. “alright, let’s get back to work,” he said, his tone casual, as if nothing had happened. but the way his gaze lingered on you told a different story.

[yestrday]

— YANDERE! MALEWIFE! GENSHIN AU part one | two | three | four

⇢ alhaitham, kaveh, tighnari, cyno

introducing ! at the altar decorated by the blooming lotus flowers, your wrist is bound to your husband with a red string and a promise of togetherness. while the people dance and sing in celebration of the newlywed, his eyes are on you and you only— possessive through and through, even in parabandhana.

[ surpriseeeeeeee yea you did not expect this did you yeah neither did I. i just sat on my computer and decided to be productive. also did not include baizhu and mika for now cuz I got lazy. ]

warning ! yandere behavior, drúgging, manipulation, mentions of locking you away and múrder

— ADMONISHING INSTRUCTION. alhaitham | الهيثم

[ “sure, sure, i’ll clean up after you go. hm? i’m not being lazy at all, just enjoying my peace and quiet.”] 

⇢ my boy is living the dream life. no nosy seniors, demanding bosses, and curious co-workers. just him and his hardworking partner and the freedom to do his research at his own time. when you’re around, he tends to slack off (though he denies it) but he does his part of the chores anyway, so you don’t really have any complaints. he’d already been living the cushy life before, but now this lifestyle is more than comfortable.

⇢ he helps you out with your work when he sees you struggling, and he lets you use him as a soundboard to work out solutions. sometimes even lets you complain. keyword: sometimes. most of the time he’ll distract you with a movie or just bring you to the bed so the two of you can read a book together. unfortunately, his tolerance towards whining is very low (reminds him too much of a certain blonde), but he still loves you enough that he’s willing to let your stress out through other means.

⇢ marriage seems to have made him a bit of a romantic, though he’ll tell you that he’s stayed the same as he was when he was still your boyfriend. whenever you’re squinting at your computer screen in frustration, you’ll be caught offguard when he presses a tender kiss to your temple and sets down a mug of coffee next to you. or while you’re talking about something or another as you eat, he’ll clasp your hands in his and press a chaste kiss to each knuckle. these gestures has you blushing and stammering all the time, reverting you back to the naive student you were when you met him. this makes him a bit smug, so you often hit him in embarrassment.

⇢ he would never look down at you. marrying you means he has acknowledged you his equal, and to be fair he doesn’t really have a habit of looking down on others. however, when he sees some pesky flies fly a bit too close, he often gets too full of himself. someone trying to smooth talk you at the cafe? haitham’s not one for pda, but he’ll wrap a sturdy bicep around your waist and watch as the poor thing trembles from his gaze. 

⇢ haitham doesn’t always tell you this, but he admires you for a lot of things. but sometimes you get a bit too… irrational, and he knows that he has to be the one to bring you down sometimes. you’re not a kid, so you should know better. besides, haitham’s always been the more rational between the two of you. sometimes bordering on…heartless, but you never tell him that. you don’t have the heart to.

⇢ he’s often the decision-maker, most of the time not even asking you what you want. he says it’s not about want, he has to take the rational decision for the both of you. you’ve always been a little… dull. it’s an endearing trait, but it’s something that has to go away as you both age. he sees the hurt flash in your eyes when he tells you this, and he thinks he can make up for it with a gentle kiss between your pretty eyes. he loves you like his equal, really, but sometimes (most of the time) you need a good talking down to.

“so you’ll continue to let your brother exploit you, despite everything he’s done to you in the past?” haitham shuts his book and stares at you with a seemingly bored gaze. “you know you don’t need to give them that solicitation, right? he’s not worth it.”

“it– it’s not about him, haitham, believe me!” you plead with him. “i’m, i’m doing this for his wife, okay? she doesn’t deserve to deliver a baby in his dingy apartment with no professionals around. it’s not fair! just because my brother was a díck doesn’t mean she deserves the cold shoulder too! have some compassion for once!” he rolls his eyes and gets up, towering above some good inches. his eyes look down at you, but his hand rests heavy on your shoulder as if trying to calm you down. “it’s not about compassion, dear. it’s about being rational. once your brother sees you softening, he’ll start asking for more and more and more and well, we know what kind of person you are.” you open your mouth to retort, but he shakes his head. “you’re too soft, [y. name]. chasing around the affection of others… you don’t have to do that anymore.”

[ “this is for the both of us. i’m sure you can’t tell now, but sooner or later, you’ll thank me.” ]

— EMPYREAN REFLECTION. kaveh | کاوه

[ “you’re the — hic!— the best thing’s that ever happened to me! of– of course i’m crying! i’m not heartless!” ] 

⇢ for kaveh, your marriage was both a blessing and a cause of distress to him. a blessing, of course, because what sane man would not want to get married to you! his darling, light of his life, the one who tolerates his flaws more than any other person on teyvat! but at the same time, he can’t just let you shoulder his burdens! he can’t give you the luxury you deserve to have, you don’t deserve to be saddled with his debt, it’s– it’s just not fair!

⇢ with kaveh’s sense of aesthetics and talent for architecture, you two will have the prettiest home around! it is a must for this architect to gift you with the prettiest home you’ve ever laid eyes on. sure, he can’t give you the grandiose mansion that you deserve even with both of your savings joined, but a master architect will make the most of what he has. this is the place where he’ll make memories with you, where you’ll grow a family and your chi… children (?!??!!!!) will live. it has to be as beautiful as you.

⇢ complains like you’d never believe. he’s always been chatty, but he gets even chattier after a disagreement with a client or a run-in with a certain someone or when he hears whispers of your horrendous workplace. to anyone else, his overdramatic flair might be a bit too much to handle, but you can’t help but listen with amusement as your husband drones on and on and on and embellishing his rants with over-the-top remarks. nevertheless, in the case that you do get weary, just press a kiss on his lips— it will surely leave him an incoherent mess in no time.

⇢ a bit too eager for your praise. it’s not like people don’t praise him all the time, but it’s only your approval that he cares for. when he makes a meal that he’s proud of, he’s squirming nervously in the seat across you as he watches you take bite after bite. when he finished his part of the chores, he tends to be a bit clingy with you as he tries to fish for compliments. it’s your choice to cave in so easily or play around with him, but when you do utter a compliment, know that you’ll be left with a gooey pile of mush cuddling into you.

⇢ on the other hand, kaveh absolutely cannot handle fights with you. fighting is a normal thing between couples, but he gets so absolutely wrecked it’s unreal. your look of disappointment, the glare you gave him, the fed-up sigh when you push him away and say that you need some time away from him… they all drive him insane. he curses himself, wondering why’d he have to go and open his stupid mouth and fuck everything up. you’re not wrong, never wrong, and it should be him to take the blame. the longer the fight, the more his wellness and self-confidence cracks. it’s a common sight to see him groveling on the ground, for your forgiveness, begging for you to notice him again. the sight is so pathetic that you can’t bear to look away.

⇢ the most insecure husband to ever exist and grows even worse with every fight you two might have had in the past. anyone who approaches you has him tensing up and tightening his grip on you, but a raised brow from you has him reluctantly loosening his grip and shamefully looking away. he’s plagued with thoughts of you leaving (because why would you stay with a wreck like him?) and overthinks every friendly gesture you give towards anyone who isn’t him (is that how you smile with someone who isn’t a complete fool?). he’s a pushover and craves your love and attention the most. if you love being an asshole and having someone completely around your finger, there’s no perfect husband to get more than kaveh.

“kaveh…” you start hesitantly, brows furrowed as you put a hand on his shoulder. “kaveh… there’s really no need for you to do all this.” but despite your gentle words, it only makes kaveh flinch and bury his weeping face even more into your chest. “i’m sorry, i’m sorry, i’m sorry,” he keeps whispering with a voice ragged from the amount of apologies he’s repeated. “i won’t do it again. whatever i’ve done please just forgive me. i can’t, i can’t stand it!” he looks up at you and that pretty face of his is ruined with tears. “please come back to me. you don’t have to sleep at that inn anymore. i can’t handle you not being with me anymore.” your grip on his shoulder tightens, and your expression seems to twist between a grimace and guilt. the only reason you stayed at an inn was because you were a coward, and you couldn’t handle watching kaveh break down as he beats himself up for a mistake that you caused. this fight was your fault to begin with, but the only one ruined was the innocent one. “i… i forgive you, dear,” you hushedly whisper, with the audacity of a man who did nothing but take advantage. “i forgive you. no matter what you’ve done.” and when he brightens up and smiles so prettily, your heart squeezes in your chest as he pulls you into a kiss sweeter than you deserve.

[ “wh… what are you apologizing for…? there’s no need to look at me like that…! you can blame me all you like!” ]

— VERDANT STRIDER. tighnari | الطغنري

[ “once again, i told you not to eat your boss’ baking! no, i don’t care if they looked nice! they. are. poisonous!” ]

⇢ he’s more at ease now that he doesn’t have to tolerate idiots who think eating poisonous mushrooms recklessly count as experiments or co-workers who tell him stupid jokes all the time. it’s a less stressful environment now… at least, that’s what he thinks. so why do you keep coming home barely alive?! you’ll find tighnari fussing over you and nagging at your office’s poor working environment.

⇢you’ll have the prettiest garden in the whole neighborhood, if not the whole world! the research data he can acquire from the plants in his backyard is limited, so it’s mostly a hobby of his. of course, he doesn’t just grow whatever there! there’s tons of medicinal herbs growing there and there’s a shed you both built where he can experiment wherever he likes. whenn you’re off work, you like to idle the time away in the garden while tighnari is hard at work on another of his concoctions. simply admiring his focused face is enough to put the stress of work behind you, and you think it’d be prettier if you tucked a flower behind his ear. but you never learn, do you? he launches off to another lecture about why you shouldn’t pluck flowers thoughtlessly while you daydream about his pretty face.

⇢ please please please don’t bring him to any work parties, lest you want to see the entire world burn. he still has that dry sarcasm that you oh so love, but he’s ruthless when it comes to your boss and your more unpleasant co-workers. if any of them try to act chummy with you, he immediately raises a brow and gives them the side-eye. he combats whatever fake-ass comment they have with a dry retort, leaving you panicking and trying him to stop it. but no one stops tighnari in verbal combat, and before long he’s revealed your boss’ and co-workers' vulnerabilities and have them deflating like a balloon.

⇢ tighnari always knows how to make the perfect brew, his teas always the perfect blend of both taste and remedy. it’s too bad though, that you always fall asleep before you can manage to finish a single pot. whenever you awake from a tea-induced slumber, your body feels strangely heavy but you can’t complain about the sleep. your husband is always the first thing you see from these naps, his fluffy tail wrapped around your legs and his big eyes staring intently at your face.

⇢ whenever he mixes in the drugs in your food or tea, tighnari’s tail swishes back and forth as he begins thinking of your cute expressions while you’re half-sober. sometimes he doesn’t put the usual dose and instead just halves it, just to see you flailing to get a grip on your senses and reaching out to your oh-so-innocent husband for help. he often chastises himself for this… dirty behavior, but the devil in his mind gleefully reminds him that this counts as research. the test subject just happened to be his trusting partner for life.

⇢ tighnari isn’t above imprisonment. it’s less for the thought of protecting you and more for his personal benefit. he likes to tell himself this is strictly research, but he can’t deny the awestruck look on his face as he greedily eats up every expression of your drugged face. when you grasp onto his clothes and lean on him for support… it makes him shudder with delight. you’re so cute when your system is laced with drugs, and even cuter when you look at him like he’s your entire world. he wants you to rely on him… and in turn, he wants to abuse that over reliance.

“you look better like this,” he murmurs as he brushes your freshly bathed hair. your figure is slumped in your chair like a doll, which isn’t far from the truth from how he handles you like one. he holds you gently, like porcelain, but you don’t react. you are too knocked out from the dose he had slipped into your tea awhile ago. he leans into your face, tutting at the dark circles under your eyes. “look at this… clear neglect of your health. i keep telling you to sleep, but you never listen to me, do you?” he sighs before focusing his attention back to your hair. “you’re so stubborn sometimes, you know. i barely know what to do with you.” he spends the next few moments in silence, rubbing cream into and ointments into your face. you smell slightly of lemongrass now, thanks to the bath he’s given you. tomorrow when you wake up, you will marvel at the softness of your skin and the clearness of your mind, before you throw yourself into another week of overwork. like always. tighnari regrets giving you the sleeping drug now. maybe he should’ve added a dose of the aphrodisiac drug he’s just finished. with the way his feline eyes zero into your blissful face and the eager swaying of his tail, he can just barely hold himself back now.

[ “aaah, i’ve run out of your meds again. oh, don’t you worry, i’ll make you some more. it’s nice how your body is so… receptive to my medicine ♡” ]

— JUDICATOR OF SECRETS. cyno | κύων 

[ “... we’re married… ��what? i honestly didn’t think i’d come this far.” ]

⇢while there’s no other man you could imagine to spend the rest of your life with, you’re inwardly groaning about the amount of dad jokes you have to put up with later on in life. sure, you love cyno’s goofy lil personality, but you think you can only take too many stupid jokes before you go crazy. you voice this concern to cyno, who just gives you a reassuring hand on your shoulder and says he can handle you just fine if you do. you’re not quite sure what this implies.

⇢ quite sulky, but he refuses to own up to the fact. sometimes you get a little distracted with one of the neighborhood children, start chatting up one of the kind neighbors, or meet one of your co-workers. you tend to get a little bit distracted by them, and while cyno believes that he’s not overly bothered by this, he admits that he is a little bit miffed about you not paying attention to them. he also gets pouty when work starts taking up of your time and you start to neglect him, so expect him to just shut the laptop close and demand you to eat dinner with him without rushing to get your job done. 

⇢ he used to scare the neighborhood kids away with just one look and you always had to comfort him and pat him on the back in sympathetic understanding. “maybe you’ll get them next time,” you had joked, handing him an ice cream as he sulked on the park’s bench. “one of your jokes should do the trick.” you really shouldn’t have suggested that, because after another trip to the park he stared those kids down with his same stoic expression and cracked one of the corniest jokes known to man. every kid looked at him like he was stupid. now no one takes him seriously. well, at least they like playing with him now???

⇢ overprotective, like over overprotective. he knows you can handle going outside the house on your own, and hell, he might have no qualms with your workplace. but the more you complain, the more paranoid he gets until he’s staking out the site for himself. touchy co-workers? cruel bosses? he could easily have their corpses fed to the dogs. he is a protector of justice, after all, and what is justice but not killing those who lay a hand on their partner?

⇢ it’s not very easy to just push him over the edge, but he can and has the will to lock you away. it’s the modern world, no one’s going to have it out for a salary worker slaving day in and out for a corporation, but still. he’s made plenty of enemies when he was still in the force and there’s a paranoia eating at him whenever you go out of the front door. when he does lock you away, he’s as gentle as he can be, even with the stench of blood all over him. this is all for your sake after all, and he couldn’t bear to see you hurt when he had the power of protecting you.

“cy,” you huff in exasperation, looking up from your laptop as he glares down at you from behind it. “what in the world are you talking about? they’re my co-worker, my superior. you can’t just tell me to stop talking to them. i need their help!” “what help could you possibly need from them when you have me?” he huffs back, crossing his arms. “i’m telling you. they’re dangerous. i… i just know it, okay?” “what could a retired general possibly know about handling excel sheets?” when his face falters, you sigh and shut the laptop closed. “look, i know you just want to protect me and i appreciate that, really. but come on, cy, don’t be unreasonable.” the pressed line of his lips tells you that he has something against being called that, but you press on. “the company does background checks on their employees. it’s safe, i promise.” you press a kiss on his cheek and smile at him. “sit here and calm yourself down, okay? i’ll handle dinner tonight.” he watches your back as you disappear into the kitchen, humming a bright tune that offsets the stormy look in his eyes. he could tell you all about his time in the workforce— the violations he’s made, the blood on his hands, and the enemies he’s made— but he won’t. not if it means breaking this beautiful life he’s created with you. but that’s okay, that’s fine. he’s been trained to adapt to the situation and to work with the shadows.

[ “even if you don’t have a care in the world… i’ll be right behind you. wherever. whenever.” ]

[forget-you-morelike-fuck-you]

That's What Friends Are For- E.M.

I've been really thirsty for Virgin!Bestfriend!Reader x Eddie so I poured myself this taaaallll drink of water. Hope you love it xx

You've never had an orgasm, and Eddie would be happy to help remedy that.

Part 2

Masterlist

TW- 18+ MINORS DNI!! Cursing, mentions of smoking, heavy petting, pet names (angel, sweetheart), a lil crying (but in a good way), fingering (lmk if I missed any)

Pairings- Virgin!Bestfriend!Reader x Eddie

Word Count- 4,802

(Gifs not mine, credit to owner!)

It wasn’t something that you’d normally ask, but with the haze of weed clouding your senses and the exaggerated moans of the poor actress being exploited for the dumb action movie you and Eddie were watching out of sheer boredom, you couldn’t help yourself. You turn to Eddie, the cogs in your head turning in overtime as the words reach your mouth before you can even put too much stock in them, “What does an orgasm even feel like?” Your eyes narrow as you imagine it, the sounds of the woman on screen echoing in your mind. There’s no way that real people sound like that, no, this is just some stupid movie that you and Eddie had never even heard of before digging it out of the pile of tapes beneath the TV. “I mean, I guess it’s gotta feel good, but does it feel that good?”  

While you ponder the probability of the sounds onscreen being at all accurate for real-world scenarios, Eddie’s face pales, the light high he’d been enjoying completely knocked out of his body at your words. Despite being best friends for the past several years, you never really talked about your sex lives with each other. For you, it was because it didn’t exist. For Eddie, it was because the only person he really wanted anymore was you. Every other person in town combined couldn’t interest him half as much as you, and he had definitely looked. Pining after your best friend for years wasn’t really something Eddie was interested in doing, not that it helped. Of course, the only reason you hadn’t made a move—aside from the fact that you were thoroughly terrified at the thought of being rejected—was because you thought that Eddie was something of a ladies’ man. You knew he was much more experienced than you, not that that was a difficult feat, but you knew that he at least went on dates. And you never wanted your attraction to him get in the way of your friendship anyway. If he liked you, he would’ve made a move sooner, right?  

Wrong. 

Eddie had fallen head over heels for you about a year after you had met, both of you juniors in high school. You went away with your family on vacation for a couple weeks that summer and came back... different. You were more confident, and even though it had only been a short separation, you looked different, more womanly than gangly teenager. He liked you before, but some switch inside his chest flicked, like the lights were finally turning on in some long-forgotten roller coaster ride. He’s had it bad for you ever since, suffering in silence because he knows how shy you used to be, and still are to some extent. He would never, ever want to do or say anything to make you uncomfortable, including putting his feelings on the line in exchange for your amazing friendship.  

Still, the news that you didn’t know what an orgasm felt like was surprising. He knew you were private about your dating life, and he always respected that. But you had had boyfriends before. And you were both in your early 20s now. Surely you had been with one of them. Or even figured it out on your own... 

“What?” is the brilliant response that flies from Eddie’s lips as his brain short circuits. You look back at his face, having wandered away, lost in thought. Eddie half expects you to backtrack, but still, to his surprise, you double down. 

“What does an orgasm feel like?” He can tell your Mary Jane consumption must be fueling this line of questioning, but if you’re really curious... 

“Um, well...” Eddie flounders, trying to find the words to say. You keep your focus on him, your thoughts trailing only slightly as you wait for him to respond. “It... It does feel really good. I don’t know exactly what it feels like for women, but for guys, at least, for me, it’s like my whole body kind of explodes, but in, like, the best way,”  

You mull this over for a moment, your eyes darting between Eddie’s face and the screen, which has since moved past the over-exaggerated sex scene back into shootouts between the good guy and the bad ones. “Okay, well, have any of the girls you’ve been with ever sounded like that?” You were genuinely curious, trying to imagine what could feel that good and coming up blank. 

Eddie chuckles a bit, eyes flicking up in a memory, “Well, one, but I’m pretty sure she was faking. Some women think they have to sound like that because that’s what the movies show them they’re supposed to sound like. But really, there are all different kinds of... sounds... that people make when they’re feeling that good,” he explains, his surprise relaxing now into amusement just slightly. 

“Oh,” You look back at the screen, apparently done with your questions. Eddie feels his heartbeat fading back into its normal rhythm after the near heart-attack you had inflicted upon him, and things go quiet for a minute before you turn your head back toward him, mouth poised open to speak. “Do you think—Never mind,” You quickly shove the thought back down your throat, remembering that Eddie’s not supposed to know you’ve been in love with him forever.  

The possibilities of what you were about to ask him makes his heart race again, until he’s burning to know. “What is it?” He asks, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible. 

Your lips press together and shake your head as a heat spreads over your face, giving you a moment of clarity amid the warmth of the high. “No, it’s okay, it was a dumb question,” You wave your hand in dismissal, and pray that Eddie doesn’t press it further in fear of your mouth working faster than your logic. Of course, you have no such luck. 

“There are no dumb questions. If you want to know something, all you have to do is ask. Would I ever judge you for anything? And really think about that, because I’ve seen you pick a pickle up off the floor and eat it,” He laughs, trying to diffuse the tension. It helps a little, and with his reassurance and that fleeting moment of clarity far away, you open your mouth again, hesitating as you find the right words. 

“Do you think... that you could maybe... show me?”  

Eddie’s eyes bulge from his skull, and he’s afraid that his heart has totally stopped for a minute. But after an agonizing moment, a thick thump of his heart breathes life back into him, and he can only pray that you can’t hear it as it loudly thump, thump, thumps in his chest.  

“Show you..?” It’s a begging question. He’s not exactly sure which part you want to learn, and he wants to make sure he doesn’t assume anything. 

You turn away again, the mortification laying over you in a thick blanket. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have... You can forget it,” 

Eddie doesn’t want to mess this up, and the visions of you making such pretty little sounds for him, or better yet, unraveling under his touch, automatically send all of the spare blood in his body downward, so quickly that he almost becomes dizzy. He has to make an effort to shift his body to hide his growing erection as he tries to reassure you. “No, no! Don’t worry, I’m listening. It’s okay, I swear! What do you want me to show you? I... I can do my best,” His voice is sincere, sincere enough to make you look sheepishly back at him, your lashes low as you try not to look in his eyes. 

You take a deep breath, your head buzzing with adrenaline as you form the words. “Would you show me how to have an orgasm?”  

Eddie swallows hard, his Adam’s Apple bobbing in his throat. He’s trying so hard to make this seem as chill as possible, for both of your sakes. If he gets too eager too quickly, there’s no way he wouldn’t just bust in his pajama pants, and he might scare you. His mouth is dry as he nods quickly, “Um, yeah. I- I can definitely try,” He watches as your face grows redder by the second, but you give a small smile, one that makes Eddie lightheaded again as another shockwave of want shoots through his half-hard cock. “Do you want to go to my room?” He asks softly, gauging the look on your face as you still avoid his eyes.  

“Yeah,” You murmur, but your legs won’t move. There’s a want in you, despite not knowing how to indulge it, and as Eddie gets up from the couch, offering a hand to you, you take it and squeeze, finally looking up at him. Eddie feels like he might faint in that moment, your hazy eyes doe-like and innocent, not making it any easier for him to keep calm. He pulls you up to your feet and you follow him, your hand in his, to his room.  

You shut the door behind you, flicking the lock on the knob despite being the only ones home, and turn to face Eddie, who stands just behind you, still not believing what might happen. “S-so, um...” He begins, feet shuffling beneath him. “For girls, it’s a lot harder to... finish. It takes a lot of warming up first,” Your brow furrows. 

“Warming up?” A blush breaks out over Eddie’s cheeks, and he reaches out to let his fingers trace up your arm, ghosting over your shoulder and up your neck. A breath hitches in your throat as his palm cups your face, and suddenly, you think you might know what he means. Nevertheless, he explains. 

“It’s a lot easier when you’re feeling good from other things first. Like touching, kissing... things like that. It can be painful if you don’t do it right,” Your lashes flutter as he leans in slightly, and you can feel his warm breath fan over your face. 

“Oh,” Eddie lets out a breath of a laugh at your breathless response, and already you feel yourself turning to putty in his hands.  

“I want you to tell me if you don’t like something, okay? Don’t try to spare my feelings. If you want me to stop doing something, or you want me to do something specific, you tell me. Okay?” The demanding edge in his whispers snaps you back to reality, and you feel a warmth building deep within you. It’s nothing like you’ve ever felt before. Sure, shadows of this have been felt watching risqué movies with sex scenes or kissing your prior boyfriends awkwardly in the backs of their cars, but that pales in comparison. This is a new, deep burn in the very depths of your body. 

“Mhmm,” You try to lean closer to him, to feel more, but his other hand goes to your waist, holding you in place. Your eyes meet his, and they’re unexpectedly hard, his brown eyes serious as he looks at you. 

“I need you to say it. I need to know you can say it,” Your breath stutters again at his words, but still, you find your voice. 

“I- I don’t like that,” You whisper, and it’s all you can do. Eddie nods in approval, but his eyes want you to continue, “I want you... I want you to kiss me,” You can hear the hammer of your heart in your ears, your blood singing as the anticipation grows. Eddie’s eyes return to their normal softness, gazing into yours like he’s seeing the sun set over the ocean for the first time.  

“Are you sure?” Eddie whispers as he inches toward you, his face leaning down ever closer. This might be the closest you’ve ever been to him, and the thought sends a delicious shiver up your spine. His nose just brushes yours, and your eyes flutter shut. 

“I want you to kiss me, Eddie,” It’s barely a breath, but he hears you, and gently, gently, his lips meet yours, barely a brush of skin against skin. You hear him suck in a deep breath before letting his lips move against yours a little more firmly, the hand on your waist snaking around your back to pull you closer to him. You let your hands find the back of his hair, which is up in a cute, messy bun, and your fingers wind themselves around a few loose, curly tendrils there. Then, Eddie’s lips move across your cheek, down toward your jaw, and the first sound comes loose from your lips. 

It’s a tiny noise, but it might as well have been Eddie’s favorite song, the way he revels in it. He can feel the pounding of your heart in your chest as you press yourself against him, not really knowing what to do other than let Eddie work his way down your neck with his lips. “E-Eddie...” You whimper, hands gently grasping at the fabric at the back of his worn t-shirt.  

Eddie stops then, immediately, waiting for your instruction. He had gone too far, hadn’t he? He had done something to make you uncomfortable and now you’d never ever talk to him again... “Can we lay down?” You ask, breathy and quiet in his ear. He presses a firm kiss to the top of your shoulder in relief, elated that you were enjoying what was happening before pulling away. 

“Yeah, let’s get you comfy,” He smiles one of those easy, lopsided smiles that takes your breath away, and you feel the butterflies that usually reside in your stomach move downward to your core. You instinctively clench your thighs together to try to squash the foreign feeling, but as Eddie moves to lay down, you see the bulge in his loose pants, and it sends a new swarm flooding your body. With a deep breath, you join Eddie and lay next to him, his face only inches from yours. His hand reaches toward your face, gently brushing a few stray hairs behind your ear. “Do you want to just keep kissing, or are you ready to try something else?” He asks. You think it over, biting the inside of your lip as you bite back the embarrassment of being so inexperienced next to him.  

“Can we try something new and still do some kissing?” You smile sheepishly, not being able to hold his gaze as your face heats. He lets out a small laugh, not at you, but because you’re so nervous. 

“Yeah, we can do that. Is it okay if I touch you? I can just try a few things and you can figure out what you like,” He suggests, his eyes roaming over you. You’re not wearing a bra, because you never did when you and Eddie were just lounging around watching movies and smoking, something Eddie had to get used to quick when your body started really developing. Once or twice when he was a few years younger, he had to fake an upset stomach just to relieve his aching cock in the bathroom upon seeing your pert nipples through the fabric of one of his old t-shirts. 

“Yeah, I think I’d like that,” With your permission, Eddie’s fingers gently reach the hem of your shirt, slipping under and running his calloused fingertips over the smooth skin of your side. You let out a gasp, your eyes screwing shut, and he notices the way your hips move of their own accord, trying to scratch an itch you’ve never felt before. He has to bite back a moan of his own just at the sight of you, so beautiful, so willing beneath his capable hands. He lets out a shaky breath as his hand moves up your side, leaning in to kiss you like he said he would, like he was aching to do again, and you accept his lips greedily, your hands pressing into the sides of his face as he glides across your skin, not light enough to tickle, but enough to send tingles over your skin, goosebumps forming in the wake of his caress. 

When his hand comes to cup your breast, not daring to flick over the sensitive nub just yet, you let out your second noise as he gives a little squeeze there. This one is muffled by his lips, pressed firmly to yours, and the vibration of it shoots straight down to his cock, which twitches willfully in his pants, wanting you more and more every second that passes. 

With a light touch, Eddie lets his thumb just brush your nipple, and it sends an electric shock through you, leading to your third noise, a much sharper sound that almost sounds painful. But when your lips press into his even harder, Eddie is only spurred on and he does it again, then lets his full hand grope over the full mound, rubbing across your breast with his palm. Eddie lets his tongue trace over your bottom lip then, and you open your mouth to him, not really knowing how to kiss with tongue, but unwilling to stop to make a comment about it as your body ignites to a new level of fire and electricity.  

Your legs are continuously rubbing together now, the friction glorious but not enough, and you want to feel more. You’re panting in between the long stretches of kissing, and while you don’t want to stop, you also need to tell Eddie what you want. So, instead of rushing back to his kiss, you press your thumb gently to his bottom lip, pupils blown with need. “Can you take my shorts off?” You ask, your confidence building. Eddie nods all too eagerly, and he gets up onto his knees to shift town toward your bottom half. You roll onto your back and lift your butt to make it a bit easier for him, his hands finding purchase at your hips, fingers dipping just below the waistband when he stops. 

“Do you want me to take your underwear off too?” He asks, wanting to be sure. You bite your lip again as the embarrassment floods back. 

“I’m not wearing any...” You admit, giving a small smile. His hands grip at your hips a bit harder then, and his sharp breath only helps your growing need. This is the most beautiful you’ve ever seen him, towering over you like this. You can see the long outline of his length through his pants now, and you let your mind wonder what could happen if this goes even further than you originally intended. It’s enough to make your hips roll in Eddie’s hands as he starts pulling down your sleep shorts. You close your eyes, trying to keep your embarrassment from making you chicken out when you’re finally about to get what you’ve always wanted. 

“Holy shit,” Eddie breathes, and your eyes shoot open as you stare at him, mortification building in your chest. 

“What? Is it bad? Do I look weird?” You ask in a flurry. Your hands go to cover your face, thighs clenching together to spare yourself when Eddie pries your legs apart again. 

“What? God no! You look... You look fucking amazing,” There’s a wonder in his voice, and you peek through your fingers to find him staring down at you, the look on his face amorous, hungry almost, like you’re his favorite meal in the world. It takes you aback, but nevertheless, there’s a twitch in your hips again, seeking a friction that you can no longer achieve for the time being. Eddie gently lowers himself on top of you, and you let out a moan when you feel the fabric of his pants brushing over your bare pussy. You let your hands fall as you try to push yourself into him, but there’s a hand holding onto your hip now to keep you down. “Oh my god, please, can you try not to do that right now? I am already in serious danger here, angel. If I feel even a little bit of you against my dick I’m fucking done for,” Eddie breathes a laugh to cover the moan in his voice, his face hovering over yours. 

“B-but I want—” Eddie cuts you off with a deep kiss, his hand squeezing into your hip as you desperately try to feel him against you again. 

“Not tonight, sweetheart. I want this one to be about you, okay? If you still want to in the morning, we can circle back,” Eddie offers, and you give a small nod. “Okay, then. I’m gonna touch you now, okay? I’ll go nice and slow. If you want me to change what I’m doing, just tell me,” You nod again and the hand gripping your hip travels down and his lips meet the hollow of your neck, giving just a tiny nip at the skin that sends your hips up again in need. Eddie tries to hold it in, but he can’t help but moan softly against your skin as he continues his journey.  

His fingers ghost just over the sensitive bud of nerves then, and the shock that goes through your body is even more intense than before when he was playing with your nipple. Your arms fling around his back and you grip the fabric of his t-shirt like a lifeline. “I’m gonna take good care of you,” Eddie whispers as he travels up your neck, “I’m gonna make you feel so good,”  

The promise is punctuated by a soft circle around your clit, and your whimper is so pathetic it startles you as it tumbles from your lips. You can feel how wet you are now; how hot your core is against his fingertips. It’s so blissful, so wanton that you feel your walls clenching around nothing, another new feeling that sends your head reeling. Eddie continues his gentle pattern around your bud, sucking sweet bruises into the skin below your ear between whispers of sweet nothing that spur you forward on your quest into the unknown world of this beautiful feeling. 

“E-Eddie,” You plead, head thrown back in pleasure. Your fingers pull his shirt so that your hands connect with his skin, “Can you go—Can you go a little f-faster, please?” Eddie nods into the crook of your neck as he complies, fingers moving just a bit faster, a bit firmer against you, and your chest starts heaving in pants again, moans spilling from your mouth more freely now. You grind into his hand pathetically as the intense pleasure grows. You feel like you could cry at the feeling, so blissful and beautiful and everything you’ve ever dreamed of as Eddie works you further and further, his lips only ever leaving your skin to whisper sweet nothings to you. 

“You’re doing so good... I can’t believe I get to do this for you... Been wanting you like this for so long...” Eddie nips and sucks and licks across your neck, up your face, across your lips, and you’re just so consumed by him that you feel hot little pinpricks in the corners of your eyes, your throat going thick as the tears begin. 

When Eddie catches sight of the first one, he slows his work on your core, afraid that you had changed your mind. “Are you okay? Do you want me to stop?” You feel a pang of panic then, not really knowing why but knowing that you were desperate to reach the edge you were approaching. You pull at his shirt, not being able to verbalize your excruciating need for a second. 

“No, no!” You plead, “Don’t stop, please... I just... Please don’t stop...” You don’t know why you’re crying. Maybe because it feels so good, maybe because the emotions are just so new that your body is startled by them. Either way, Eddie is reluctant but believes you, because he trusts you and you trust him so completely that you don’t think that there’s any way that either of you would or even could hurt each other. 

Eddie picks up the pace again, his lips focusing on yours now to help keep you from crying. Your fingernails scratch up his back as you whine and writhe beneath him, coming closer and closer to something. There’s a tenseness in your stomach now, and it’s building. There must be a precipice close, a pinnacle to all of this pleasure and need Eddie has been giving you. Your panting breaths become more ragged, and Eddie gets the feeling that you’re close. 

“That’s it, angel. You gonna cum for me?” He practically moans against your mouth, and it’s another agonizing minute of this pressure inside you building before you feel it.  

Your hands clench Eddie’s shirt as you unravel. Your tears are flowing freely down your face, mouth open in a loud moan that reverberates on the walls of Eddie’s small room. Eddie keeps drawing circles over your clit as you ride through the waves of your first ever orgasm, kissing down to the top of your chest and back up to add to the pleasure. Finally, you feel it start to subside, the wide waves lessening into ripples as your breath starts to even out again. Eddie slows down again, and finally stops after a few more seconds, wanting to draw out your bliss as much as he can. He kisses you deeply, the hand on your pussy traveling up to grip your side, sliding up past the hem of your shirt as he holds you firm. You can feel the slick on his fingers cooling down on your skin, and it sends a new wave of shivers through your body.  

You kiss each other for a long time, not wanting to go back to reality where you’re just friends, but finally you have to pull away for air. You look at each other, both of you quiet. There’s a new electricity in the air, charged with the anticipation of what you’ll say to each other now that everything has changed.  

“How was that?” Eddie settles on, his brow set in a concerning furrow. He wants to make sure that you had the best experience he could’ve offered you, because that’s what you deserve. You deserve to feel this good all the time. 

Your soft eyes bore into his and you nod slowly, trying to etch every detail of this night into your memory forever. “It was amazing. You are...” Your hand comes to hold his face, and he leans into your touch in such a way that your heart melts for him even more. “You’re so amazing, Eddie, thank you.” You give a little laugh then, at how silly it sounds for you to thank your friend for giving you an orgasm. Eddie laughs a little too, and he stretches his lips to kiss the edge of your palm. 

“Anything for my favorite girl,” He whispers, smiling that easy smile that you love so much. Pride sparkles in your chest at his words. God, you love him so much... 

“So...” You feel a blush creeping on your face again, “You’ve been wanting me... like this?” You think back to the words he whispered against your neck that made your insides turn to mush. 

Eddie flicks his eyes away from you, embarrassed. “You caught that, huh?” 

“Was I not supposed to?” You giggle, your smile sending shockwaves through Eddie’s body. 

“Well, I just didn’t think you would. You seemed to be pretty distracted if I recall,” He jabs playfully, his gaze returning to you. His eyes soften at his next thought, “What do you think about that?” 

This is it, this is where everything changes. It’ll never be the same after this. “I...” You begin, building your courage. “I’ve been wanting that, too.”  

Eddie’s face moves through confusion, surprise, and then settles on joy, his smile widening to reach his sparking brown eyes. “Yeah? You’ve been wanting that too?” Your smile matches his as you nod, letting out a breath of a laugh with the relief settling in your chest. 

Suddenly, Eddie squeezes you in a bone crushing hug, peppering kisses over your face as you giggle. His lips settle on yours again, and it’s like taking a drink of cool water after wandering in the desert. You don’t know if you’ll ever get used to this, but by God, you’d be happy to. 

You keep kissing and cuddling for a long time, talking like you usually do, how best friends do, but now it’s just better. Best friends, but there’s no more hesitancy, no more wishing for more, because now, you have everything you could ever want. 

[rebeccathenaturalist]

If you've ever shared "cute" pictures or videos from owl cafes, read this sobering reality check.

92 cafes across Japan hold over 1900 owls captive, simply for entertainment. This includes two species considered Near Threatened (Barred Eagle-owl Bubo sumatranus and Chaco Owl Strix chacoensis) and one Vulnerable species (Snowy Owl Bubo scandiacus). Moreover, there is a lack of transparency as to the origins of many of these owls, which may not all have been captive-bred. Species may have been mislabeled during import, and not all have paperwork showing they were legally imported, meaning there is a very good chance owl cafes feed into the illicit, non-sustainable wildlife trade.

What the article doesn't cover is how stressful these settings are for owls. They're bright, noisy, and confined, and the owls are exploited by the owners who allow untrained strangers to hold and pet them without consideration of the owl's well-being. The "break areas" where the owls can get away from direct contact are still within sight of patrons, meaning they are still subject to human contact.

Owls are not chickens. They are not domesticated birds that have spent thousands of years and thousands of generations in human company, being selectively bred for human-friendly, docile traits. Even a tame owl is still a wild animal with intact instincts that tell it it should be living a largely solitary life in a wide, open field or forest, not stuck in a small space with many other owls of assorted species and a bunch of people.

This also isn't a situation like falconry, where captive birds are given plenty of private space, and flown daily for physical and mental fitness. And a single cage may have dozens of owls, more than what limited staff can handle. Even if some of the birds are supposedly "rescues" (as at least one cafe's website claims), any reputable wildlife rescue is going to limit the contact between the animals and humans, and absolutely is not going to allow visitors to regularly take pictures with and handle the wildlife--even socialized, trained ambassador animals have very stringent limitations on direct contact.

So it's not at all unsurprising that an already highly unethical industry is likely contributing to the problem of questionable or illegal wildlife trade. This study is just one more piece of evidence suggesting that these cafes are anything but harmless, cute fun.

[acti-veg]

Leather vs. Pleather: 8 Myths Debunked

Since we are all beyond tired of seeing the same regurgitated leather posts every day, I've compiled and briefly debunked some of the most common myths peddled about leather and pleather… So hopefully we can all move on to talk about literally anything else.

1) Leather is not sustainable.

Approximately 85% of all leather (almost all leather you'll find in stores) is tanned using chromium. During the chrome tanning process, 40% of unused chromium salts are discharged in the final effluents, which makes it's way into waterways and poses a serious threat to wildlife and humans. There are also significant GHG emissions from the sheer amount of energy required to produce and tan leather.

Before we even get the cow's hide, you first need to get them to slaughter weight, which is a hugely resource-intensive process. Livestock accounts for 80% of all agricultural land use, and grazing land for cattle likely represents the majority of that figure. To produce 1 pound of beef (and the subsequent hide), 6-8 pounds of feed are required. An estimated 86% of the grain used to feed cattle is unfit for human consumption, but 14% alone represents enough food to feed millions of people. On top of that, one-third of the global water footprint of animal production is related to cattle alone. The leather industry uses greenwashing to promote leather as an eco-friendly material. Leather is often marketed as an eco-friendly product, for example, fashion brands often use the Leather Working Group (LWG) certificate to present their leather as sustainable. However, this certification (rather conveniently) does not include farm-level impacts, which constitute the majority of the negative environmental harm caused by leather.

2) Leather is not just a byproduct.

Some cows are raised speciifically for leather, but this a minority and usually represents the most expensive forms of leather. This does not mean that leather is just a waste product of beef and dairy, or that it is a completely incidental byproduct; it is more accurate to call leather a tertiary product of the beef and dairy industries. Hides used to fetch up to 50% of the total value of the carcass, this has dropped significantly since COVID-19 to only about 5-10%, but this is recovering, and still represents a significant profit margin. Globally, leather accounts for up to 26% of major slaughterhouses’ earnings. Leather is inextricably linked to the production of beef and dairy, and buying leather helps make the breeding, exploitation and slaughter of cows and steers a profitable enterprise.

3) Leather is not as biodegradable as you think.

Natural animal hides are biodegradable, and this is often the misleading way leather that sellers word it. "Cow hide is fully biodegradable" is absolutely true, it just purposely leaves out the fact that the tanning process means that the hide means that leather takes between 25 and 40 years to break down. Even the much-touted (despite it being a tiny portion of the market) vegetable-tanned leather is not readily biodegradable. Since leather is not recyclable either, most ends up incinerated, or at landfill. The end-of-life cycle and how it relates to sustainability is often massively overstated by leather sellers, when in fact, it is in the production process that most of the damage is done.

4) Leather is not humane.

The idea that leather represents some sort of morally neutral alternative to the evils of plastic is frankly laughable, at least to anyone who has done even a little bit of research into this exploitative and incredibly harmful industry. Cows, when properly cared for, can live more than fifteen years. However, most cows are usually slaughtered somewhere around 2-3 years old, and the softest leather, most luxurious leather comes from the hide of cows who are less than a year old. Some cows are not even born before they become victim to the industry. Estimates vary, but according to an EFSA report, on average 3% of dairy cows and 1.5 % of beef cattle, are in their third-trimester of pregnancy when they are slaughtered.

Slaughter procedures vary slightly by country, but a captive bolt pistol shot to the head followed by having their throats slit, while still alive, is standard industry practice. This represents the “best” a slaughtered cow can hope for, but many reports and videos exist that suggest that cows still being alive and conscious while being skinned or dismembered on the production line is not uncommon, some of these reports come from slaughterhouse workers themselves.

5) Leather often involves human exploitation.

The chemicals used to tan leather, and the toxic water that is a byproduct of tanning, affect workers as well as the environment; illness and death due to toxic tanning chemicals is extremely common. Workers across the sector have significantly higher morbidity, largely due to respiratory diseases linked to the chemicals used in the tanning process. Exposure to chromium (for workers and local communities), pentachlorophenol and other toxic pollutants increase the risk of dermatitis, ulcer nasal septum perforation and lung cancer.

Open Democracies report for the Child Labour Action Research Programme shows that there is a startlingly high prevalence of the worst forms of child labour across the entire leather supply chain. Children as young as seven have been found in thousands of small businesses processing leather. This problem is endemic throughout multiple countries supplying the global leather market.

6) Pleather is not a ‘vegan thing’.

Plastic clothing is ubiquitous in fast fashion, and it certainly wasn’t invented for vegans. Plastic leather jackets have been around since before anyone even knew what the word vegan meant, marketing department have begun describing it as ‘vegan leather’ but it’s really no more a vegan thing than polyester is. Most people who wear pleather are not vegan, they just can’t afford to buy cow’s leather, which remains extremely expensive compared to comparable fabrics.

It is striking how anti-vegans consistently talk about how ‘not everyone can afford to eat plant-based’ and criticise vegans for advocating for veganism on that basis, yet none of them seem to mind criticisms directed at people for wearing a far cheaper alternative than leather. You can obviously both be vegan and reduce plastic (as we all should), but vegans wear plastic clothing for the same reason everyone else does: It is cheaper.

7) Plastic is not the only alternative.

When engaging in criticism of pleather, the favourite tactic seems to be drawing a false dilemma where we pretend the only options are plastic and leather. Of course, this is a transparent attempt to draw the debate on lines favourable to advocates of leather, by omitting the fact that you can quite easily just buy neither one.

Alternatives include denim, hemp, cork, fiber, mushroom fiber, cotton, linen, bamboo, recycled plastic, and pinatex, to name a few. Alternatives exist for everything from materials designed to ensure sub-zero temperatures and specialist motorcycle equipment. There are exceptions in professions like welding, where an alternative can be difficult to source, but nobody needs a jacket, shoes or a bag that looks like leather. For most of us, leather is a luxury item that doesn’t even need to be replaced at all.

8) Leather is not uniquely long-lasting.

The longevity of leather is really the only thing it has going for it, environmentally speaking. Replacing an item less often means fewer purchases, and will likely have a lower environmental impact than one you have to replace regularly. Leather is not unique in this respect, however, and the idea that it is, is mostly just effective marketing.

As your parents will tell you, a well-made denim jacket can last a lifetime. Hemp and bamboo can both last for decades, as can cork and pinatex. Even cotton and linen can last for many years when items are looked after well. While some materials are more hard wearing than others, how long an item will last is mostly the result of how well made the product is and how well it is maintained, not whether or not the item is leather.

[bananzerssims]

Color Theory Legacy Challenge

Do you like color? Do you like legacy challenges that switch things up each generation? Do you like family cozy gameplay AND spicy dramatic gameplay?

Well, then this is the legacy challenge for you! Inspired by classic legacy challenges like the Not So Berry Challenge by @lilsimsie and @alwaysimming and Such Colorful Lives by @thepanplumbob, this legacy challenge is a ten generation legacy challenge where each generation's goals and personality are based on the color theory of their assigned color!

General Rules: 1. Normal Lifespan recommended 2. Each Heir must represent the color of their generation BUT Berry sims are not required (Though feel free to use them if you want!) 3. Keep money cheats to a minimum! 4. Each heir must complete their required Careers and Aspirations unless specifically stated otherwise 5. Each heir can be any of the previous heir's children, no matter the birth order, unless specifically stated otherwise

Generation One: White - The Beginning White symbolizes innocence, purity, and beginnings... People call you innocent… naive… But that’s not really the case. You know exactly how cruel the world can be so you strive to make it a better place. You pour yourself into your career and your children and your marriage, determined to spend your life helping others and to raise children that help others, too.Your house is always sparklingly clean and there’s always a hot meal on the table and an extra bed (or sleeping bag or couch) for sims who need it.

Traits: Good, Generous, Neat

Aspiration: Friend of the World

Career: Doctor

Other Requirements:

Gain and Maintain a Pristine Reputation 

Master Charisma and Cooking Skills

Reach at least Level Five of the Baking Skill

Have a Good Friends Relationship with all your kids

Donate to charity every week, as much as you can afford

Have an idyllic romance with your partner that inspires your heir

Optional: Master the Parenting Skill

Continued Under the Cut:

Generation Two: Pink - The Romantic Nurturer Pink symbolizes love, compassion, and nurturing. You just love love! Your parents had an idyllic romance that taught you what love was supposed to look like. And you want everyone to have that kind of love! Including yourself! The problem is you just can't seem to decide which sim owns your heart! You have a couple lovers as a teen before finally settling down with your soulmate and raising a family together. 

Traits: Perfectionist, Lovebug, Family Oriented

Aspiration: Paragon Partner (teen), Big Happy Family (adult)

Career: Romantic Consultant (either branch)

Other Requirements:

Master Parenting and Romance Skills

Reach at least Level Five of the Charisma Skill

Spoil your kids rotten (Rarely use the Punish option when correcting them)

Stay Soulmates with your spouse and go on one date a week

Optional: Have a love triangle as a teen

Generation Three: Red - The Passionate Actor Red symbolizes passion. You are a very passionate person, you always have been, but you’ve never cared for being kind. Not like your parent. You’re more of a hot-head, and tell it like it is. This means you make a lot of enemies. Who cares about Enemies when you have lovers? But none of those lovers are good enough for you, so you hop from one to the next, leaving a trail of broken hearts (and maybe one or two affair babies). For all your romantic exploits, your true love is the stage. You want to see your name up in lights!

Traits: Hot-Headed, Mean, Romantic

Aspiration: Villainous Valentine

Career: Actor

Other Requirements:

Master Romance, and Acting Skills

Reach at least Level Five of the Mischief Skill

Have more Enemies than Friends

Have three kids, all with different married sims.

Have a negative relationship with all your kids

Become a 5 Star Celebrity

Optional: Interact with your kids as little as possible, have them raised by a sibling, grandparent, or nanny

Generation Four: Brown - The Steadfast Farmer Brown is the color of strength and reliability. You’ve never gotten on too well with your parents. Neither of them were ever really around, so as the oldest, you sort of ended up as your younger siblings’ default parent. Of course, your grandparents did what they could to help, but they had their own lives. So, when you could, you found solace in animals. Animals aren’t like people, they don’t hurt you on purpose.  When you’re finally old enough, you take your younger siblings and ditch your parents, moving to the countryside to finally have some peace. There, you build up a farm, with livestock and horses, and, of course, a family that actually loves each other.

Traits: Animal Enthusiast, Rancher, Loyal

Aspiration: Country Caretaker

Career: None, make money off your crops, livestock, and nectar

Other Requirements:

MUST be the eldest child of the Red generation

Master Horse Riding, Gardening, and Nectar Making skills

Own at least one pet (horses, dogs, or cats, it's up to you) at any given time

Own A Ranch or Farm with Chickens, Goats or Sheep, and Cows or Llamas

Once you reach Young Adulthood, run away from home with your younger siblings and raise them on your own.

Optional: do a Rags to Riches Challenge with this generation

Generation Five: Orange - The Childish Adventurer Orange symbolizes adventure and youthful passion. Okay, so you’re a bit of an oddball. Who cares? You delight in being unabashedly yourself! Your family was close knit, not just your parents and siblings, but your pets, cousins, and aunts and uncles as well, and they never tried to dull your sparkle. But the countryside, for all of its bucolic beauty, just doesn’t satisfy your love of adventure, so shortly after your adult birthday, you kiss your family goodbye and set off to see the world.

Traits: Adventurous, Cringe, Childish

Aspiration: Extreme Sports Enthusiast

Career: Athlete

Other Requirements:

Master Fitness and Rock Climbing Skills

Reach at least Level Five of the Skiing or Snowboarding skills

Live in three different worlds (not including the one you were raised)

Marry an Active Sim

Go on vacation to each of the vacation worlds at least once

Optional: Gain the Adrenaline Seeker lifestyle

Generation Six: Yellow - The Paranoid Techie Yellow symbolizes cheerfulness and happiness, but also cowardice or fear. You’ve always been a little… cautious. You’re not adventurous like your parent, choosing instead to be a homebody. Social stuff and trying new things are just a bit too daunting for you. So, you find your outlets in tech and video games instead. The people in those circles don’t seem to care as much about your awkwardness.  And there, among zeros and ones and other geeks, you finally blossom, transforming into a sunny, bright person. You’ll never be especially social, but your small circle is enough for you.

Traits: Paranoid, Socially Awkward, Cheerful

Aspiration: Computer Whiz

Career: Tech Guru

Other Requirements:

Master Programming and Video Gaming Skills

Reach at least Level Five of the Handiness Skill

Have a club of fellow geeky friends who you get together and game with regularly

Move to San Myshuno and spend your whole life there

Have only two children

Optional: Gain the Techie lifestyle or the Geek trait

Generation Seven: Green - The Eco-Conscious Hippie Green symbolizes nature and vitality but also jealousy. You never quite fit in with your family members. While your parents and sibling all had a similar passion for technology, yours is a bit more nature focused. In fact, you're a bit of a hippie. There's no shame in that!  As soon as you're old enough, you leave the smog and traffic of the city behind and move to Evergreen Harbor, hoping to live a greener life, only to come face to face with a community in sore need of a clean up.  You've never been one to back down from a challenge so you roll up your sleeves and get to work. Unfortunately, you spend so much time on your projects that you don't have time for love… until one day you notice everyone else seems to have gotten married and had kids, leaving you behind! Will you ever find the love you desire before it's too late?

Traits: Recycle Disciple, Freegan, Jealous.

Aspiration: Master Maker

Career: Freelance Crafter

Other Requirements:

Master Fabricating and Wellness skills

Reach at least Level Five of the Herbalism skill

Clean Up Evergreen Harbor

Live an Eco-Conscious life (Off The Grid lot, tiny home if possible)

Stay single until you are an Adult

Have only one child

Optional: Marry a sim in the Eco Innovator Career

Generation Eight: Blue - The Ocean-Loving Artist Blue symbolizes inspiration and creativity. You’ve always been a bit of a gloomy sim. Maybe that’s because Evergreen Harbor doesn’t have much scope for the imagination. It’s nice that the town is all cleaned up thanks to your parent, but you often find yourself at the docks, staring at the sea. Here, it’s gray and green and not much else. While you find the colors you love in the gems you collect and shape, you find yourself wishing you could see those colors in your beloved ocean. So, as soon as you’re able, you make your way to Sulani. But once there, you discover that the islands are in a sorry state. You’ve learned a thing or two about helping the environment from your parents, so you roll up your sleeves and get to work.

Traits: Creative, Gloomy, Child of the Ocean

Aspiration: Painter Extraordinaire

Career: Conservationist

Other Requirements:

Clean Up Mua Pel’am

Master Painting and Gemology skills

Reach at least Level Five of the Fishing skill

Live In Sulani and Marry a Native

Live on the Beach

Optional: Finish the Sea Shell Collection, become a Mermaid

Generation Nine: Purple - The Self-Absorbed Scientist Purple symbolizes luxury and ambition. You’ve never loved the podunk environment of the Islands. You want more, something grander, something befitting your genius. Something that makes you known. And what better way to do that than making the lives of sims better with your inventions? You wouldn’t call yourself a mad scientist, in fact, you’re very sane. It’s not your fault people don’t appreciate your genius!

Traits: Genius, Self Absorbed, Ambitious

Career: Scientist

Aspiration: Mansion Baron

Other Requirements:

Master Logic and Robotics Skills

Reach at least Level Five of the Rocket Science skill

Max Scientist Career

Marry an Evil Sim 

Optional: Have an Alien Baby (doesn’t have to be the heir)

Generation Ten: Black - The Ending Black symbolizes death, darkness, and mystery. People assume that when you dress in all black and talk about death that you’re a bad person. And they would be right. About you, at least. Maybe that comes from having Evil Scientists as parents. Who knows. Whatever it is, you’ve always had a fascination with whatever comes after life. And you’ve always felt Death hovering at your side but maybe he’s not the enemy you thought he was…

Traits: Macabre, Evil, Chased By Death

Aspiration: Ghost Historian

Career: Reaper

Other Requirements:

Master Thanatology, Medium, and Writing Skills

Live in a Haunted House for Seven Days

Write Horror Novels in your free time

Have a baby with GrimDie Young and Become an Evil Ghost

Optional: finish the Tarot Card Collection

I hope you all enjoy playing this challenge! Feel free to tag me if you do and please have fun!

XOXO, Bananzer

[renthony]

On "Consuming Content"

Every now and then a post crosses my feed that follows the vein of, "you have to do things other than consume media or else you'll be a dumb person who doesn't know anything about how the real world works and does nothing but pointless fandom stuff."

I hate those posts for three major reasons, not counting the inherent ableism and classism of "you must have approved Smart People hobbies or else you're worthless" rhetoric:

You don't know what people do or talk about outside of what you see on their social media. Responding to fandom communities on a fandom-driven website as if all these people are one-note cardboard cutouts of people is asinine. In many cases this genre of post feels like repackaged 2012 tumblr "not like other girls" and hipster discourse. Yes, yes, you think you're better than everyone else on this website because your hobbies are less mainstream, more morally pure, and have greater intellectual merit, we get it.

What do you even mean by consuming content? As someone who purposely avoids using the phrase "consuming content" because I find the term too vague to be useful, please be more specific. Are you including every single form of media engagement and art enjoyment? Are you just talking about mainstream TV and film? What about novels? Plays and scripts? Nonfiction books and instruction manuals? Do you mean to imply that going to a book club is a worthless non-hobby? Are you including academic reading? Are you including going to the art museum? Going to the theatre, concerts, or other performances? Taped liveshows? Watching sports events on TV? Are you including news media? Are you including YouTube tutorials about how to do various tasks, crafts, or other hobbies? Are you including trade magazines? Are you including industry publications in various fields? What constitutes "content," and what constitutes "consuming" in this discourse? Define it. "Consuming content" is a nothing phrase that people use to mean multiple different things depending on what they, personally, judge as valid media. It's a buzzword at best, and when the same buzzword can be used to describe both "idly scrolling social media" and "reading and discussing a book," it's a meaningless phrase.

As an artist and author, if engaging with media is bad and worthless, am I supposed to conclude that making it is equally worthless? If "consuming content" is a bad, lazy, worthless, fake hobby, what makes creating art a worthwhile pursuit? If I am constantly being told as an artist that engaging with media isn't a worthwhile pursuit in its own right, and the people who want to engage with my art are just brainless fandom losers, what incentive do I have to make that art anymore? Furthermore, to everyone reading this paragraph and thinking, "that's not what content creation is," I refer you to bullet #2: If the phrase "make content" can be used to mean "low-effort posts made to advertise cheap and useless products" as well as "being a novelist" or "getting a gig as a writer on a TV show," it's a meaningless phrase.

None of that is even getting into issues such as the way influencers are preyed on by both brands and targeted harassment from trolls. Influencer culture has major issues, but boiling those issues down to "stupid vapid young people who are too lazy to make real art or get real jobs" (which is a mindset I see frequently online) is unhelpful. So many people pursue influencer deals because they're living in poverty but are skilled at various social media and advertising related tasks, and just like any worker, they're being exploited because they need to eat. Labor rights for influencers are a huge topic that entertainment industry unions have been actively discussing and working toward. (Related links for further info: [x] [x] [x] [x])

"Consuming content is not a hobby" is a worthless statement unless you define what you mean by both "consuming" and "content." Quite frankly, you also need to define "hobby," because if you're putting requirements on what is and isn't allowed to be a "real" hobby, you mostly just seem like you're moving goalposts and defining "worthwhile hobby" as "hobby I, personally, think is good." Use more specific language to articulate your actual problems with the entertainment industry, the art world, influencer culture, or whatever else you're actually upset by.

Media and fandom can involve any number of enriching, satisfying hobbies that take up a perfectly acceptable and healthy space in someone's life. If you aren't into it, go find hobbies you do like and stop policing how other people spend their precious free time in this nightmare hellscape of a world.

[whatswrongwithblue]

Alastor Headcannons

Fem cat demon reader in a relationship with the Radio Demon

SFW

Rosie introduced him to you. Maybe not necessarily with the idea that you two would be romantic, but she saw similarities between you two and knew you would eventually hit it off.

Once you stopped constantly arguing, that is.

The man had been an Overlord for so long and had sworn off attempting romance for an even longer period, that he genuinely did not recognize his feelings for you as romantic inclinations at first.

He knew he liked you. Admired you. And enjoyed your company. Could talk to you for hours about anything and everything. So obviously that meant he wanted to own your soul.

That blew up in his face – almost literally.

He quickly found out there was nothing he could offer you, or do to you, including putting you in harms way, to force you into making any kind of deal with him. He couldn’t make himself do a damn thing to you. And that scared him and made him avoid you for a long time after that.

But when you two did eventually reunite, it was a lightbulb moment for him, and he pretty much immediately started pursuing an actual relationship with you.

PDA isn’t really his thing, besides hand holding and possibly a hand on the small of your back if he’s feeling extra possessive or wanting to show you off.

The biggest exception to this rule is dancing. He loves to take you dancing.

Surprisingly, he really doesn’t mind others knowing you two are an item.

Some might think he’d want to hide it, worried that others would see you as a weakness to exploit but honestly? Who would dare go after something the Radio Demon held in such high regard. Let them try, my dear.

In private, if he’s in a good mood, he’s quite the sweety.

His love language is definitely acts of service and quality time.

He’ll want to start each day relaxing, enjoying coffee and breakfast with you. He cooks. And throughout the day he really enjoys just being the same room with you, even if you’re both absorbed in your own tasks.

In private, if he’s in a bad mood, he’s very distant.

Don’t touch him and try not to interrupt his work.

He’ll still unconsciously show his affection for you by letting his guard down in these moments.

He’ll let his mask slip a little, show you how upset he is when he would never let anyone else know what’s capable of actually getting under his skin.

He’ll be in some disheveled state. Have his jacket off, or bow tie undone, or hair tied back. He’ll have his microphone across the room. Little things to show he’s still comfortable being vulnerable with you but still . . . best not push it because then he’ll get a little mean.

If you’ve accidentally hurt his feelings in some way, then the insults will start. He’ll call you annoying or dramatic, but he won’t raise his voice unless you do first. He rarely swears so when he does, you know he’s completely at his wits end with you or with whatever else has upset him.

He would never ever lay a hand on you.

If he’s really pushed to the edge, his power might be harder to control. Lights may break, his shadow will go nuts on the wall around you, and he’ll even take on a more demonic, imposing form, but you’ll still feel completely safe in his presence.

Have I mentioned how rare these arguments are? There’s a reason why he’s comfortable enough to be in a relationship with you, because 99% of the time, you understand each other perfectly and can calm the other one down.

At the end of a “no touch day” he’ll usually come find you and initiate some type of cuddle. Usually once you’ve already gone to bed.

He’ll slip under the sheets behind you, probably still a little damp from a shower, and either be the big spoon or, if you’re awake, rest his head on your chest while you stroke his ears.

Those ears are mighty sensitive. Not in a sexual way, but it always sooths his exhausted nervous system when he allows you to touch them like that.

That, and your purrs. No lullaby in the world is as potent as the mesmerizing sensation of your purrs when his body is laid close against yours.  

It took him a few months to admit it, but after the first time he told you he loved you; he says it all the time. His mother always told him you couldn’t overuse that phrase if you meant it, so you tend to hear it multiple times a day.

He isn’t fluent in Louisiana Creole, but he knows a few phrases, and will slip into the native accent of his youth and whisper them in your ears when he’s trying to sooth you if you’re the one upset.

He took decades to propose. You never pestered him about it, but Rosie did – and that probably made him take even longer to get around to it than if she had just let it alone.

Neither of you were super into the idea of a big ceremony but then word got out and half of Cannibal Town was asking about Save the Dates so you two decided that while the vow exchange would be short and sweet, the reception would be a fucking party.

NSFW

Sex had not been a part of this man’s life for a very long time.

He’d only been in two brief relationships, once as a teen, and once later to appease his mother, and neither one exactly went well.

Even his rut, which makes most other demons sex-crazed, used to just make him more aggressive and territorial. The physical aspects of it were easy to take care of in private, so he never had to seek out other outlets.

But then you came along and while it still wasn’t as much of a priority for him as it was for you, he still found himself enjoying and even desiring that kind of intimacy with you.

For the first time in . . . well, ever . . . he found himself initiating sex with someone, rather than the other way around, and you found yourself pleasantly satisfied whenever he was in the mood.

Don’t get me wrong, he could still be - and was often - very touch adverse, especially after a difficult day.

But if he’s happy and relaxed and you’re around . . . you two are going to end up under the covers.

He used to hate his tail. He’d even cut it off more than once, but it always grew back. But you liked it and he liked anything that pleased you. And then you started touching it during intercourse and he really liked that.

If the guy has one cum button, it’s you stroking his tail while he’s inside you.

It also really helps that you are so comfortable with your tail and you constantly let him touch it.

He’s definitely a top. Sex is just not interesting to him unless he knows you’re getting off, so it’s either mutual pleasure or your pleasure, but he doesn’t care for anything that involves just his body.

You enjoy going down on him, and it’s okay for him, at least for starters, but he rarely lets you do it for very long. It’s just . . . boring, for him. He’ll compromise and 69 if you’re really in the mood for that kind of thing.

He gets very excited when you’re in heat.

It’s the only thing that can -almost- always override his touch aversion on a bad day.

The idea of you wanting him that much, to the point of it being a near constant physical need for him to be inside you, really gets him going.

He wears out faster than you do, but even after he can’t get it up anymore, he has a multitude of other appendages (fingers, tongue, tentacles) and even some toys that he thoroughly enjoys using on you until you are finally sated.

He’s not one for dirty talk. It makes him uncomfortable, and he finds it distracting. He stays pretty quiet himself during sex, but he loves the needy little moans and whines you make.

He does bite.

And slap your ass.

He’s not usually one for restraints or whips, but he does enjoy marking you with his teeth and claws. Again, this man wanted to own your soul, so he’s going to enjoy leaving physical reminders all over your body that you are his.

His rut is much harder to handle now that he’s sexually active.

And he’s very different in bed when he’s in a rut.

That’s when he dirty talks.

And that’s when he really gets rough.

You have on more than one occasion been face fucked to the point of choking and tears.

And those shadow tentacles really come out to play during that time of year.

They’ll be wrapped around your body, your neck, limbs, etc. They’ll fuck your mouth, your ass, any part of you that his cock isn’t in. He wants you completely controlled and filled up by him when he’s fucking you in his rut.

And he can go for a very long time. Multiple times. You learned after the first year to just plan on taking a vacation that time of year because really, other than eating and sleeping, he pretty much demands that’s all you two do.

He can sometimes lose control of his power and his bodily form during sex.

You’ll know when he’s close to climax because those antlers get massive and his eyes tend to go black. And if he’s in a rut, he can get a little  . . . big.

Like, all of him. His entire body. But also yes, his dick gets larger then, too.

One time, you were just about to say you were getting stretched a little too much down there, and his weight was starting to crush you, when he literally broke the bed. That’s all hot and steamy in romance novels, but you just about broke your tail that night and ended up nearly impaled by the bed frame.

Another time, he got his antlers stuck in the backboard of the bed and that was even more embarrassing for him than breaking the actual bed had been because it took him so long to calm down enough to control the size of those things and meanwhile you had just been pinned beneath him and laughing hysterically at the very horny, very frustrated, very stuck husband of yours.

He’s a self-inflicted insomniac and doesn’t let himself sleep much, so after sex, he tends to pass out next to you and when he finally wakes up, he usually insists you join him in the bath or shower for some aftercare.

He’ll help clean any wounds that haven’t already healed, massage your overworked muscles, and verbally check in with you that he didn’t take things too far. Especially since after a rough rut-induced session, he gets awfully insecure about the things he did to you in the heat of the moment.

Of course, you’re always happy to ensure him that you really enjoy that side of him and you’ve never felt like he’d taken anything too far with you.

(P.S. These are some ideas I worked through on what this ace-spectrum Overlord man would be like in a committed relationship for my new OC wife x Alastor fic. I’ve been working on it for weeks now and am just about ready to start posting. It’s been very difficult writing him truly in character while also navigating meeting my OC, coming to terms with his feelings for her, and how he would behave as a partner/husband. For this post - so that it can be its own standalone work - I’ve changed all the wording to Y/N, with the only specifics being that Y/N is a cat demon. But if you really enjoyed this, I hope you’ll stick around for The Fire in the Sin. It’s going to essentially be all of the above turned into a novel, that’s half prequel and half current events for Hazbin Hotel.)

[serendark]

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