#but also it feels in bad taste to me personally to compare the two. and i think it minimizes the hard rowling does.

[npd-vriska]

not a huge fan of comparing scott cawthorn to jk rowling because one is a multi-billionaire best-selling author basically singlehandedly funding a genocide while the other is a popular indie gamedev who donated money to trump without saying anything publicly and sure they might both be bad but like those two things are not the same

[chainmail-butch]

The MtF Stone Butch

This is a distillation of my thoughts on my own Stone Sexuality as a keep-the-pants-on Transfeminine Stone Butch.

All essays that I've read on Stone Sexuality come from the perspective of cisgendered or transmasculine lesbians. Each of these individuals ascribed their Stone to something uniquely emotional or physical in their lives. There was nothing so simple as,

"If I had a dick this wouldn't be an issue," but that idea remains a contributing factor throughout.

I do have a dick, so what's the issue?

The first is sensation. Since transitioning, I find that my body is awash in heightened sensation; traditional erogenous zones (genitals, nipples, hips, lips, ears) especially. However, when a partner is introduced my skin itself becomes the Stone. Sensations that were previously pleasurable become dulled or even painful. This leads to a certain touch-me-not that is almost completely divorced from body dysphoria, which is usually the given cause for such a reaction.

This sensational experience leads to the unusual scenario where an unfeeling (on paper) strap is preferred to my own dick.

This is not a bad thing.

While I don't take pleasure in being touched I do take great pleasure in touching and perceiving. Sight, taste, smell, and the tips of my fingers come to the fore.

This is the magic of Stone4Stone sex in my experience. Bringing together a person who only wants to touch and a person who only wants to be touched creates a space free of worry and discomfort. It removes the latent concern that I am somehow failing in providing my partner with something that they need or want; either by denying them outright or being an unconvincing fake.

The use of fingers and specialized tools also brings me a feeling of safety and comfort. Being equipped precisely for a femme's pleasure brings me a feeling of security. Which allows me to more thoroughly enjoy the acts of touching, hearing, and tasting.

The other factor at play is emotion. This comes primarily in two flavors, dysphoria and satisfaction.

As a Transgender Woman I experience body dysphoria and, more specifically, genital dysphoria. My penis and I are not on speaking terms.

For most women this seems to result in a relationship with the prostate. I never had the urge, despite recognizing the fact that I should have the urge and repeatedly opening a dialogue. It never really worked out. Which led to feelings of confusion, further dysphoria, and some amount of despair. After all, if every part of me felt dull or painful or foreign, how was I supposed to cum? Should I not crave orgasm? Isn't that the purpose to this whole business?

My answer is that I'm not, I don't, and it isn't.

Even before transitioning my own orgasm was a tertiary concern compared to my satisfaction at a job well done.

Multiple shaking, moaning, hair gripping orgasms from my partner are enough to keep me walking on clouds for a week. In that space my erogenous zones could not matter less. My feelings of pleasure are her feelings of pleasure. My orgasm is her orgasm. Everything that I need to feel is in her convulsing muscles and dopey smile. All stress is removed from me and replaced with the feeling of a tool properly used by the hands of a master craftsman.

I did what I came to do and I did it well. That's what I crave. That's my Stone.

[cigarettesuga]

— mind if i stay? (ksj)

pairing: roommate!seokjin × reader

genre: college au, roommates to lovers, smut, fluff, comfort, tiny bit of angst (barely)

word count: ~2.7k

summary: you’re jin’s roommate. you’re also kinda in love with him. when a shitty date leaves you pissed and sad, jin’s there �� soft, patient, and way too big to be anything but dangerous. (spoiler: you don’t mind getting a little wrecked.)

warnings: explicit sexual content (18+), size kink (he’s huge, you’re tiny), softdom!jin, heavy praise, unprotected sex (don’t be dumb irl), begging, desperation, oral (f receiving), light overstimulation, body worship, creampie, casual cuddles after, jin being a literal menace and an angel at the same time, lowercase style, cursing

lu's note: hey there, just hopped in here to say that im still trying to figure out how to write explicit content and somehow make it work with my personal style of writing (which is kinda moody), i don't think i've achieved that just yet, bare with me. hopefully you still enjoy it!

m.list | latest

you slam the front door harder than necessary. your keys clatter against the side table. you’re two seconds away from screaming into a pillow like a cartoon character.

"bad date?" jin calls from the living room, lazy and amused.

you don't answer. mostly because you’re too busy kicking off your shoes and stomping toward the kitchen like the floor insulted you personally.

"i’ll take that as a yes," he grins, voice floating behind you.

you’re halfway through pouring yourself a glass of water when you realize:

he’s not sitting on the couch like usual. he’s leaning against the doorframe. watching you.

he’s wearing a baggy white tee and gray sweatpants. hair messy. glasses slipping down his nose.

and he looks —

fuck.

he looks good. like he rolled out of bed straight into your favorite daydream. you hate that your heart stutters. you hate that your stomach flips. you hate that no shitty tinder boy has ever made you feel half as alive as jin does just standing there, breathing the same air as you.

"what happened?" he asks, voice softer now.

not teasing. real.

you sigh, shoulders sagging.

"he was an asshole."

"want me to beat him up?" he offers immediately, like it’s a normal tuesday night activity.

you laugh in spite of yourself, the sound brittle and sharp.

"nah. not worth the energy."

jin tilts his head. studies you like he’s memorizing every line of your face.

then:

"you okay?"

you swallow. nod.

"liar," he says gently.

you slam the water down and it splashes over your hand. jin’s there in half a second, grabbing a paper towel, brushing his fingers against yours.

"don’t waste your tears on some loser," he says. his thumb grazes your knuckles. "you’re way too good for that."

your throat tightens. you hate how easily he cracks you open.

"stop being nice to me," you whisper.

"why?"

because i’ll fall harder.

because i already have.

because i can’t take it anymore.

you don’t say any of that.

you just stare at him — at his warm brown eyes, his stupidly perfect lips, the soft pink flush blooming under his skin — and something inside you snaps.

you surge forward.

kiss him.

messy, desperate, no plan, no permission.

he catches you like he was waiting for it.

like he’s been holding his breath this whole time.

his hands land heavy on your hips, anchoring you there. he kisses you back slow, deep, his mouth opening against yours like he’s letting you in — no hesitation, no fear.

his body is huge compared to yours, towering over you, swallowing you up, and he barely even touches you but you feel it everywhere.

you break away, gasping.

"fuck," you pant. "sorry, i’m sorry—"

"hey," jin murmurs, tipping your chin up.

"don’t apologize."

his thumb brushes your lower lip, eyes dark and patient and hungry.

he licks his own lips like he’s thinking about tasting you again.

"you sure about this?" he asks.

"more sure than anything," you breathe.

his grin is slow and devastating.

"good," he says. "because i’ve been going crazy living with you."

before you can even process that, he’s picking you up — literally lifting you like it’s nothing — and carrying you to the couch.

you yelp.

he laughs, setting you down so gently you could cry.

"relax," he says, tugging off your jacket, your shirt, your everything.

"let me take care of you."

your body is buzzing, every nerve ending on fire. you’re suddenly, painfully aware of how big he is. not just tall — built. broad chest, thick arms, solid thighs. he could snap you in half without trying.

the thought makes you ache.

when he strips his shirt off, you swear you lose brain function. smooth skin, strong lines, a tiny mole dotting his collarbone. you want to bite him. you want to worship him.

but jin just smiles — all knowing and sweet — and sinks to his knees in front of you like you’re the goddamn masterpiece.

"jin…" you whisper, thighs trembling.

he presses a kiss to the inside of your knee. then higher. and higher.

"you’re so small," he says, voice wrecked. "so fucking pretty."

you whimper.

he’s so careful with you. hands firm but gentle, lips soft and sure as he kisses up your thighs. when he finally mouths over your panties — slow and deliberate — you gasp so hard you almost fall back against the couch.

"easy, baby," jin chuckles.

"i got you."

he slides the fabric down your legs and tosses it aside.

then he just…stares.

"fuck," he mutters. "look at you."

you squirm under his gaze, cheeks burning.

he leans in and licks a stripe up your folds — slow, filthy, perfect.

you arch off the couch immediately, a broken moan tearing from your chest.

"taste so good," he growls.

he eats you out like he’s starving.

no rush. no hesitation.

just steady, thorough, focused.

you’re babbling, gasping, grabbing at his hair — and he just holds your thighs open, hums against you, keeps going until you’re shaking.

"jin — i’m gonna —"

he pulls back just enough to say:

"good. wanna feel you fall apart, pretty girl."

you shatter.

hard.

with a cry so loud you’re vaguely aware the neighbors might call someone. you’re still trying to catch your breath when he kisses back up your body, mouthing at your chest, your neck, your jaw.

"wanna fuck you so bad," he pants against your skin.

"gonna stretch you out so good, baby. you can take it, right?"

you nod frantically, tears pricking your lashes.

"words," he murmurs, kissing the corner of your mouth.

"yes, jin, yes, i want you," you sob. "please."

he groans — a deep, low sound that vibrates against your ribs. he shoves his sweatpants down and — holy shit.

he’s big.

like, unreal.

you whimper without meaning to. he chuckles — sweet and cocky.

"don’t worry," he says, lining himself up.

"i’ll go slow."

and he does.

he pushes in inch by inch, stopping every few seconds to kiss you, to whisper how good you’re doing, how pretty you are, how perfect you feel.

you’re stretched so wide, full to the point of tears, but it’s good.

it’s so good.

it’s jin.

it’s everything you didn’t know you needed.

when he’s fully seated inside you, he drops his forehead to yours, breathing hard.

"fuck, baby," he rasps.

"you feel like heaven."

he starts to move — slow, deep thrusts that make you whimper into his mouth.

he holds your hips, your waist, your face —

keeps you right there, tethered to him.

you cling to him, nails scratching his back. you chant his name like a prayer. he kisses every new tear that spills down your cheeks.

"too much?" he asks, pulling back to look at you.

"no," you gasp. "more. need more."

he smiles — proud and wrecked — and starts fucking you harder.

not rough — never rough — just deep. perfect. like he wants you to feel him for days.

you come again embarrassingly fast.

and again after that.

until you’re trembling, gasping, mindless.

he presses his forehead to yours again, chest heaving.

"gonna cum inside you," he pants.

"want you to feel me."

you nod, too gone to care about anything else.

with a broken groan, he spills inside you, hips grinding down, pushing it deep.

you shudder, overwhelmed.

he doesn’t move right away. just stays there, breathing you in. when he finally pulls out, you whimper at the emptiness. he kisses your forehead, your cheeks, your lips — everywhere.

"good girl," he whispers.

"you did so good for me."

you feel like you could cry all over again. he scoops you up against his chest, wraps a blanket around you both. presses lazy kisses to your temple.

"jin?" you mumble.

"yeah, baby?"

"mind if i stay here tonight?"

he laughs — low and happy — and pulls you closer.

"you’re never sleeping anywhere else again."

⠀

quietly, always © cigarettesuga

⠀

[aewon]

do you feel the same way i do about you?

sunghoon x fem reader genre: angst wc: 1624 warnings: name calling, betrayal(?) house parties, drinking, unrequited feelings, cursing

note: this is a repost from my old account @/wonkizz so if you recognize it from there i promise i didn’t steal it lol also this isn’t proofread so pls ignore any mistakes.

pt 2

Sunghoon is your best friend. Someone you’ve gone through hard times with, someone who’s always been there for you. It was easy for you to catch feelings, but it was also just as easy to hide them away.

The one thing people always say about you and Sunghoon is that you’re so different it’s almost comical. He’s loud and cheerful, albeit around people he’s comfortable with, while you’re quiet and shy with practically everyone, even him.

You’ve tried over the years to branch out and make more friends, but you always find yourself falling short and just missing the mark.

But Sunghoon, he’s never made you feel bad about your personality, if anything he’s allowed you to embrace it.

Which is why when he convinced you to go to a party with him, he was as shocked as you were.

You don’t go to parties, they’re just not for you. But Sunghoon said this one would be good and a chance for you to make more friends.

He wanted to introduce you to his other friends, the ones he’s made at your college.

You were hesitant but decided it might be worth it in the end.

Only problem is, you don’t have party worthy clothes. Your style is basic, you wear jeans and sweaters on most occasions because you prefer comfort over anything else.

When you tell Sunghoon this, he urges you not to worry about it, saying he’ll handle it.

What exactly does that mean? Buying you the skimpiest outfit he could find.

The dress is short, barely covers your ass and your chest is nearly exposed.

“Sunghoon, I don’t think this is for me,” you say, staring at yourself in the mirror.

You did your own hair and makeup, although barely any, and the outfit was the final touch.

You don’t look like you.

“Are you kidding? You look great!” He says, enthusiastic as ever.

“I just… I don't look like myself, you know? I feel weird.”

“I promise, everything will be fine. I know you’re stepping out of your comfort zone for me, and I really appreciate it. This is just part of it.”

Sunghoon, ever the sweet talker, smiles when you nod.

“Okay, let’s go.”

The drive isn’t far, it’s being hosted by Sunghoon’s friend Jay.

When you say the house is gigantic, you mean it.

Your one bedroom is more like a studio compared to it.

Your nerves start to get the better of you, and you almost don’t want to get out of the car.

Sunghoon opens the passenger door for you, holding out a hand, “Come on.”

You take it, and he leads you up the steps and straight inside, not even bothering to knock.

Then again, why would he have to? It’s a party for god's sake.

He leads you through a wave of bodies until you reach the kitchen.

6 other guys are standing there and Sunghoon greets them eagerly.

You can’t help but stand there awkwardly, twiddling your fingers and looking down at the ground.

“Guys, this is Y/N, my best friend,” Sunghoon says as he begins to point at everyone, “Y/N this is Heeseung, Jay, Jake, Sunoo, Jungwon and Riki.”

You wave at them, giving a shy smile as they all greet you.

“You didn’t tell us how pretty she is, Sunghoon,” Heeseung says, raising an eyebrow.

Sunghoon scoffs, “Yeah yeah, don’t overwhelm her, this isn’t her type of thing.”

He grabs two beers from the fridge, opening them and handing you one.

You sip it gently, souring at the taste. You’re not a big drinker either.

It’s not long before Sunghoon effectively abandons you.

He dragged you to the dance floor one minute, then the next he was gone.

You don’t know why, but something is telling you to head upstairs.

It’s there you hear your name coming from a bedroom with the door slightly ajar.

“Why didn’t you introduce us to Y/N sooner?” You barely recognize Heeseung’s voice amongst all the noise coming from downstairs.

You certainly recognize Sunghoon as the next person to speak, “Parties aren’t her thing, I told you that.”

“We’ve been in college for 4 years though. This is the first time you’ve gotten her to come to one?”

“What else can I say? She’s a stick in the mud.”

“That’s not a very nice thing to say about your best friend,” Sunoo speaks up.

“I know, but it’s true. She’s kind and all but she’s so shy and closed off that she can’t make friends. The only reason we really became friends is because our parents pushed us to be close.”

Ouch.

“So you’re friends with her out of pity?” Riki asks.

“I wouldn’t say that,” Sunghoon retorts, “she’s sweet and I appreciate having her as a friend but she’s kinda boring and our personalities don’t really match at all. If it weren’t for our parents, we probably wouldn’t be friends at all.”

“That’s harsh, man,” Jake pipes up.

“I know, I just…don’t know how else to describe her.”

You’ve never felt genuine heartbreak. Not until this moment.

So this is how he feels about you? The best friend you thought accepted you for who you are, truly just…tolerates you?

Has he always felt this way? Has he only kept you as a friend out of pity?

You never thought of yourself as less than when it came to Sunghoon, but now, you’re doubting everything you thought you knew.

As tears gather in your eyes, you turn around making your way back downstairs and out the front door.

You call yourself an uber and go home, crying silently in the back seat of this stranger's car.

Once you make it inside your apartment, you take the heels Sunghoon bought off, thank god because they were killing your feet.

Heading into your bedroom, you look at yourself in the mirror again. The girl glaring back at you, isn’t you. She’s what Sunghoon wants you to be, but clearly you can’t give him that.

You almost tear the dress as you’re taking it off, and change into sweats and a t-shirt.

As you lay in bed, you think back on your years with Sunghoon.

All the time he tried to convince you to do things with him, all the times you tried. All the times you asked him to do something with you and all the times he declined because they “weren’t his style.”

Has it really always been like this? You, trying to be different for Sunghoon, but Sunghoon, never trying for you?

Suddenly you feel humiliated.

Humiliated at the fact that your friendship with Sunghoon has all been a fluke.

You’ve always accepted Sunghoon for who he is. Yet, he never truly did the same for you.

Your phone buzzes beside you, Sunghoon’s contact coming up with a text.

‘Where are you?’ It says.

You don’t bother answering, instead, putting your phone on the charger and turning it off.

You fall asleep with your eyes swollen and heart broken.

When you turn your phone on the next morning, it’s full of texts from Sunghoon.

You, again, don’t bother answering. You’re disgusted by last night's events.

You don’t have class thankfully, so you lounge around in your pajamas all morning.

It’s not until noon when there’s a knock at your door.

You mentally slap yourself for not checking the peephole, because once you open it, you regret it.

Sunghoon stands there, an evident frown on his face.

“Why haven’t you answered my texts?” He says, immediately.

You feel snappy, like the word nice is not in your vocabulary at the moment.

“Can I be honest? I didn’t want to talk to you.”

Sunghoon’s face furrows, “Why? What’d I do?”

You just begin to laugh. You don’t know if it’s the leftover pain morphing into anger or the fact that you’re tired.

“Why are you here Sunghoon? I don’t need your pity, not anymore.”

“What are you talking about?”

Then, you’re shouting, “I heard you last night! You’re friends with me out of fucking pity and I’m honestly disgusted!”

Sunghoon’s face morphs from confusion to shock.

“I…you heard me?”

“I did.” You nod, “And honestly, if you were so fucking bored of me, you should’ve just ended the ‘friendship’ instead of dragging it along like this.”

“Y/N I…I didn’t mean any of that—,”

“Yes you did! You did because if you didn’t, you wouldn’t have said it.”

There’s nothing but silence from his end, like he’s trying to process everything while you’ve already caught up.

You can feel tears pricking your eyes again and damn if it isn’t embarrassing to cry in front of him, but at this point, you don’t care.

“You know what hurts the most?” You ask as Sunghoon looks up, into your eyes.

“The fact that I did so much for you. You wanted to go out? Fine. You wanted me to put myself out there in a place I was totally out of place at? Fine. So many times I made myself uncomfortable for you. But the very few times I asked you to do something with me, for me, you always said no. It wasn’t your thing. Do you realize how fucking pathetic I feel knowing my friendship was so one-sided?”

Sunghoon doesn’t say a word, tears gathering in his own eyes. “I’m sorry.”

You nod, “I’m sorry too. Sorry that we both wasted our time. Sorry, that I ever had feelings for you. Consider this ‘friendship’ over, Sunghoon.”

With that, you close the door in his face, locking it before letting yourself break.

You settle on your couch, curling into a ball, clutching a pillow as you cry.

There’s a few stray knocks, but he eventually leaves.

AEWON 2025

[kenpachissluut]

You...you write for sugar granddaddy Naobito sama (⁠ ⁠╹⁠▽⁠╹⁠ ⁠)!!? Please feed us more since there are still pitiful horny ppl who are too shy to admit that!!!!😭

hell i would fuck that old man all night until he gets an heart attack 😂 why do have to look old men so hot tho? 😩🥰

Personal little maid feat. Naobito Zenin ఇ

ఇ warning: smut, explicit content & language, 18+ mdni, squirting, breeding kink, old man - reader mid twenties

Working as a young Maid in the Zenin Estate isn’t always pleasant. Getting pushed around, insulted and being treated harshly especially from that misogynistic bastard Naoya.

But being a beautiful young Woman also has it good perks. Especially if the current Clan Head had laid his eyes on you. Naobito Zenin. He may be 70 years old but for his age he can keep up with his Son Naoya just as perfectly. Being also well trained and muscular for his age, let’s your stomach churn in a good way. Other‘s would be disgusted but you? You feel your panties soaking wet only from how he gaze and smiles at you.

Always so sweet & gentle, you are his personal favorite little maid. But for getting this special treatment of course he wants something in return, not that you would mind tho. Nobody has ever gave you that much pleasure like he gives to you, despite his old age.

Finding yourself once again in his bedroom, laying naked and legs sprawled out on the bed. He hovers over you, his hands gripping your hips tightly almost leaving bruises as he thrusts his hard cock in and out into your aching wet pussy.

,,Always such a good obedient little girl for me, aren’t you sweetheart?‘‘

His sweet but dirty talk always makes your heart flutter in your chest as you chuckle innocently, eyes seductively hodded.

,,Can’t help it… you just feel so good inside of me Naobito Sama…‘‘

Your words were enough for him to increase his already inhuman pace and hitting your sweet spot even deeper. God, that man was old but no one could compare to him. He had such an long lasting stamina and relentless pace. Folding your legs up, pressing them against your chest as he lifts himself up a bit, he thrusts his thick cock so deep into your pussy, making you gasp for air. Holding your legs with one hand, his other hand comes up groping your tits greedily, tongue flicking out to tease & taste your perky nipples.

,,Such a sinful youthful body you have sweetheart. Can’t believe you let an old geezer like me fuck your pretty tight hole on daily basis.‘‘ he growls amused, his eyes meeting yours.

His thrusts became now even more sloppier as he hits you balls deep into your squelching cunt. You could feel a pool of heat in your belly as you uncontrollably gush all over his dick just as he loves it.

,,Such a mess you made love… are you ready for me to fill you up? Stuffing your cunt with my cum?‘‘ he whisper hotly into your ear, licking a wet trail over your cheek, pulling you into a sloppy wet tongue kiss. Pulling away you gaze at him with a sinful desire in your eyes.

,,Stuff me Naobito sama… make me completely yours…‘‘ you mumbled incoherently too lost in pleasure.

You didn’t had to tell him twice, with some last powerful deep thrusts into your pussy, he painted your insides completely white. Clenching around his already softening cock he sighed into the crook of your neck softly.

,,Keep doing that and you’ll get a round two… but i guess that’s just exactly what you want huh? How good you make that cock of mine feel young again sweetheart..‘‘ he said chuckling and you just noticed how his cock went hard inside of you again. God, having an old lover had some bad perks but who knew there was even better ones? Especially if it’s the Head of the Zenin Clan.

Kenpachissluut

comments & reblogs appreciated 🫶🏻

[konpeitonom]

college! dating headcanons for grant curly. pt1

sfw— lowercase intended ^_^

fem reader —

requests are open and heavily encouraged, i write for every mw character ^.^

notes; majority of these are self indulgent, and an excuse to take a break from my finals! the people on tumblr need my mediocre headcanons. not proofread im lazy. there *was* gonna be a nsfw section but i guess only if the people rlly want that..

— god he would be so unbearable at first. he’d try and find an excuse to hang out with you and that excuse would be studying. like, whether or not you guys live on the same floor in the dorms or just in the same class he’d always be like..

— “hey do you have notes for ___”, “do you wanna study with me in the commons?” “what grade did you get on the paper? we should compare next time”

— he would be so annoying about it and he wouldn’t even realize. sorry. haha.

— he’d just chalk it up to him being a bit more comfortable with you, you’re easy to talk too! but in reality he just needed reasons to see you. and what better excuse than classes?

— as a study partner however. maybe you get things done. most of the time you do. him however? he kinda needs someone to keep him in check. if hes alone he’ll end up doodling on all his papers and have to go back to a far away building to reprint his assignments.

— he’d doodle animals i think. big animal guy. he’d compare you to animals he thinks are cute and you may or may not take offense to that. it’s his way of flirting, honest!!

— i think after awhile he’d be more open to inviting you to other things. i’d start with school events then movies then maybe walks in a park nearby! he is not dense, if you seem uninterested he’ll back off.

— once you two start going on dates (whoever confesses first, it is up to you..) but nonetheless, he will insist on paying first. at least for the first few. if you don’t intervene he’ll pay for all. haha. it’s just how he was raised.

— cute cheap things though. like maybe a drive in movie theater, or ice cream, or walking around a pretty area downtown.

— he seems like a mint chocolate chip guy. the type to deny that it tastes like toothpaste. it’s just mint!! that or something healthy. as healthy as ice cream could get.

— he would play some kind of sport. i do not know a thing about sports, so i’ll leave it at that. he’d want someone who’d come to his games and support him and be there!! being there is the way he feels most loved, most likely.

— he would get injured so easily. whether that be from sports or him just being clumsy he is susceptible for injury- someone out there is out to get him.

— he’d like it if you patched him up. he likes being taken care of too! after a few times he’d just end up feeling bad and do it himself, but if you insist he wouldn’t mind that either..

— i also mentioned in my general headcanons that he is a morning person. in college that is true as well, but he would be taking the fattest afternoon naps. you, friends, family, school, work, sports… he is taking a nap.. maybe join him!!

— this is a common occurrence in curly fics. but he is the big spoon. he likes squeezing and squishing you like a plush doll.

— with all that on his shoulders he is not the best at managing his time. he would be extremely apologetic if he was late in anyway to a date and such but it’s bound to happen.

— he is friends with other girls. sorry. i think it is a green flag if a guy can be friends and only friends with girls. just means they view girls as more than a potential girlfriend. he’d never give you a reason to worry about him cheating, but if you had any sort of insecurity he’d adjust that thought process of his or just give you extra reassurance!

— during finals/mid-terms he is extra attentive to you. it is a stressful time for him but that must also mean it’s stressful for you too. small things like getting you food when you’re studying, making sure you’re taking breaks.

— ideal college bf. need a guy like him.. sob.

[skay-ali]

The Forgotten Daughter

A slightly slow plot but I prefer it that way, that the obsessed characters appear little by little

Chapter 2

Damian Wayne... he was an enigmatic child for you.

The truth is that you still don't understand how you managed to get along with the boy, his curt, unfriendly and arrogant personality was difficult to deal with, if not impossible.

After his first visit you didn't expect to see him again, his upset face with a curt goodbye was the last thing you expected to see from the boy, not receiving another visit from him a few days later.

You would be lying if you said that your life became more miserable with the child, even with his witty hurtful comments they made you smile, perhaps because you did not take the child's words seriously, because you did not feel familiar with him, or because after being bothered he an adorable scene with your baby that took away his threatening appearance.

You compared him to a chihuahua, those adorable little dogs that tried to look brave and like a big threat, but they were just adorable little creatures.

You also attributed your great attitude towards the child's visits in large part to the fact that you had matured, you were already a responsible adult with a daughter who sweetened your life even more, you became one of those television mothers who was positive, above all, wearing a big smile with an air of friendliness.

“Because you smile like a fool,” the boy commented, annoyed when he saw the attitude his sister was wearing.

You snapped out of your thoughts and paid attention to your surroundings again.

“Ahhh.. it's just that you two look so adorable playing around” you defended yourself.

In a way it was true, seeing the child sitting on a puzzle-style rug that you put together in the living room, playing with some baby toys, with your little daughter, while the little girl tried to play with the child and moved her hands with excitement, It was something that warmed your heart.

You received a displeased grimace from Damian at your words, he stopped paying attention to you and looked back at Alice.

“Hey, don't bother about that, if you keep making faces you'll get old.”

“I'm not the one who should worry about getting old you know” the boy responded, but this time without paying much attention to you.

“Am I getting older, can I tell?” You worried about his words, it was a valid worry, at least for you.

This time you did not receive any attention, neither from the child, nor from your baby, great, now I will exchange you for that bad excuse of a refined child, you noticed his taste for being from a wealthy family, something that you never liked very much, although Having money and having no limit to spend it was fantastic, having many gossip about your life, seeing how luxury and money controlled people, the carelessness of some parents and others who put pressure on their children to make them their perfect puppets, no. It was something very nice.

“Well men still flirt with me, so I guess I shouldn't worry about my appearance until they stop” you joked, you were going to leave aside the fact that you were getting older with each passing day, month and year, forget that Time was still ticking for almost everyone in the world, worrying about it was stupid and a martyrdom, it caused nothing but depressive and anxious feelings.

“Who went and where?” The boy got up from the ground in a hurry and faced you.

Damian got upset when he heard that, dogs trying to seduce you for their dirty desires, he wouldn't allow it, that would affect his little niece, if his niece, it's not that he cared about you, that's clear, although you were kind to him and You treated him like a member of your family, he didn't feel anything for you…. TRUE? You were just a woman who shared blood with him, his sister, he wasn't going to admit it.

“Uggg, you sound like a protective father” you made a disgusted face.

“That your useless husband wasn't taking care of you” he ignored your mockery and continued with his interrogation.

“whaaat?” His words surprised you “Haha, I'm married, I think you hit your head.”

“What about that man who was at your house when I met you?” he asked you again, this time you could see that his calm temperament changed to an aggressive one.

“The man we had dinner with?” Damian nodded “yes that man, Alice's father?”

"Hahaha he's not Alice's father, where did you get that idea from?"

The boy didn't answer you, he just looked at you questioningly, waiting for you to continue talking.

“That man you met was Nick, Alice's godfather,” you explained, “and as for this little girl's father, he is not part of our lives.”

.

Thanksgiving was a very lively date in your home, your friends visited your house and had a delicious dinner, it was one of those days where the whole house became full of life and there was laughter in every corner, there were small arguments, but They all revolved around who gained little Alice's favor. Although she reacted well to Damian's company, she was not the same with your friends. It means that the little baby develops a demanding side with the people around her except for her family.

Today your younger brother did not attend the party, even though you invited him, it was something you expected, unfortunately, he had a family to celebrate with, his father and brothers, you assume, in his conversations he never mentioned his mother, so you assume that she It was not listed in its current home.

The surprise was pleasant, when you found the child visiting you in the early morning of the new day, although you wanted to sleep, seeing the child visiting you so late at your invitation, you suppose, warmed your heart and you accepted that the child came in. your house.

The nagging doubt of how it was possible for him to come from so far away in the middle of the night unaccompanied to your house was in your head, naaa... you would let him get away with it, he is not your son after all, and knowing the story familiar, Damian is also supposed to play superheroes like the others.

You watched as Damián devoured the food left over from the party, for some reason he decided to go out to the balcony of the house to eat and you followed him so as not to leave him alone. Yes, you were saying goodbye to the food you planned to eat the following week. At least you could save breakfast by reheating the little leftovers.

“You know you look like dad” you said looking at the child, maybe it was the dream or the silent atmosphere, between you and the child, but seeing him made you a little nostalgic.

It's funny, because even though that man never did a well-deserved action to receive such a title, you still called him your father, you hated yourself for that, you wanted to stop being stuck in a place where you were still deep inside yourself expecting something from your paternal family.

Dad... oh dad, why did you never give me such an opportunity to call you that, that man, even without effort or interest in your life, took an undeserved title.

You realized that the boy had stopped eating, to pay attention to you and your words. He didn't say anything which is a surprise, given his defensive attitude every time they spoke.

“Don't look at me like that, it's true... you look like him in many ways” you looked Damián in the eyes, you were lying with your head on the bars of the balcony without wanting to move it, with a face empty of emotions.

“I remember seeing him eat just the way you do, I never forget it, him eating with a stoic face and an air of superiority surrounding him, as if he were royalty” you did not move your eyes, always on a fixed point, observing the child who He was the exact copy of the first man who broke your heart “They are the same when eating, even if you don't believe it.”

Do you remember well when you would sneak out of your room or the kitchen where you spent your time with Alfred, just to see your father for a moment, there was something that stopped you from facing the man, sometimes he looked very tired, he was talking on the phone or someone She accompanied him at his dinner, like the women who visited the mansion with Bruce and stayed the night with him.

“Your appearance also reveals you as his son, after all you are his spitting image” you finished your ramblings, you looked away from the boy, it was better not to say anything else to him, you didn't want to bother him anymore, if he took your words the wrong way. You blame your lack of sleep for causing an impending disaster.

You'd better concentrate on observing the dark landscape full of lights that the balcony offers.

“You look like Bruce too,” Damian comments as he composes himself after being surprised by your words.

"..." You were left speechless by his sentence, how come you two looked alike and never noticed it? They had to change what made them similar to their father or treasure it with all their hearts.

You waited to hear the boy as you climbed onto the bars of the balcony and sat down, needing to clear your mind of the next words that would come out of the boy's mouth.

“You and Bruce… you are not careful in your romantic adventures and you end up with unexpected children,” he said without mincing words.

“Ahhh how embarrassing you don't say that” you tried to hide your face from the child's sight, you didn't expect him to digest something similar.

You laughed a little at what he said, in a way it was true, you didn't see it, but Damián also smiled when he saw your reaction and your smile, you didn't get angry or say anything bad against him because of his words.

He followed your steps and also sat on the bars of the balcony.

Although the adrenaline surged through your body from hanging at a high altitude above the ground, you left your worries behind and enjoyed the moment. You still kept your hands on the bars, to avoid incidents.

“Yeah, I'm sorry if what sounded bad before, the truth is that seeing you here makes me happy, I've never done something like that with dad and seeing you doesn't… wakes up emotions in me” you apologized, although the words you said were unintentional. you threw at him, you know very well that they had a bit of resentment in them.

“You are... you are the family I never had.”

Oh how stupid you were to say that, if only you knew that that closed your destiny, if you knew that by saying that, the boy whom you just started to consider a brother would see you as a valuable person in his life that he would not have the luxury of losing. , using methods at any cost to have his sister and niece by his side.

.

In another place very far from your house and the family scene you had.

Another great scene broke out, all because the "eldest" of the Wayne children went to look for his younger brother after their family dinner, but when he got to his room he noticed his absence.

This worried him, even more so knowing that he wasn't even sneaking around the city in his vigilante form.

Where had the little demon of the family gone? He scanned the boy's room, trying to find a clue to his whereabouts.

Even though he meticulously searched the entire large room, he found nothing, and about to give up, a book caught his attention.

An art book, it was rare that Damian left something visible, Dick took the moment to review his brother's art, upon seeing his few projects before he noticed that he had great talent.

He scanned the pages slowly, capturing every detail of the drawings and paintings, his brother was undoubtedly talented, but there was something, some leaves in particular, that stopped him from thinking about them.

A woman was drawn on it, a woman that he vaguely remembered, she was very familiar, but no matter how much he searched his memory he couldn't remember who she was.

When he was finally able to change the page, he noticed that all the other pages contained more drawings of the woman, or of a baby.

He took a photo of the drawings, something told him that this woman was important, he had to remember who she was.

It's time to add more characters, the good thing is that we already have a yandere.

Reader never specified that it was the paternal family that she never had, because although with Damian now they are more like brothers, she had her friends and her mother as family, may she rest in peace.

tag list: @kore-of-the-underworld @vanessa-boo @jsprien213 @delias-stuff @vanilliona @bat1212 @yanrandom @Quiarst @palabra de niño salvaje @el termino @leo227 @sirenethblog

[mika-no-sekai-blog]

Part II

Word count: 2700+

Warnings: panic attacks (reader is tormented soul🤷)

I'll just drop it here.

Also I felt really bad for saying no to so many nice persons (I really admire the inner power of people who can do that so easily and without regrets), so there's going to be a taglist 🫥

Lovely divider by tsunami-of-tears

Part I | Part III

You were sitting at the table, eyes downcast, cheeks slightly pink. Everyone around you was celebrating your wedding, but you hardly paid attention to it. Your thoughts were swirling around the warm hand on your lap, holding yours so firmly it almost hurt, thumb drawing small circles on your skin. What could it mean? You'd never seen this kind of behaviour in Hewn city. Public, lewd touches maybe, but secret, intimate ones? Was it a good sign? Or bad one?

You were snapped out of your thoughts when his hand suddenly withdrew. You didn't dare to look at him though. In a second, air little bit cooled down and a silky night-kissed voice with a pinch of arrogance spoke from your left.

"Nice party, Eris."

You immediately recognized High Lord of Night. Feeling the urge to stand up and bow as you would do in Hewn city, you pushed against the chair, but it didn't move even an inch. Eris' hand was now on an armrest of your chair, holding it at place.

"What did you expect? It's my wedding day. I hoped to please my wife," he said, his voice dangerously low, balancing between politeness and sharpness of displeasure.

"Thank you, my lord," you whispered with bowed head. The pressure of powers of these two males was almost unbearable, suffocating you.

"Hmm," it seemed that High Lord of Night smirked. "I hoped that I could have a word with your wife, if it isn't too much to ask for."

"Whatever you want to tell her, you can do so here and now," Eris retorted, cold rage seeping from every word.

"C'mon," Rhysand laughed amusedly. "It only takes a minute and you'll have her back. I won't hurt her, you have my word."

Eris inhaled sharply, considering it. Then he just waved his hand and went back to watching the dancers.

"Here, let me help you," High Lord of Night offered you his arm, helping you to stand up. Then he silently led you to the ceiling-to-floor windows and out on the terrace. He let go of your hand and leaning against the railing looked up at the night sky.

"Stars are so different here, aren't they," he sighed softly.

You quickly took a look at twinkling lights that illuminated the terrace with a cool glow. It was the first time you'd ever seen the night sky and you'd like to keep watching that mesmerising beauty for the rest of your life, but.. your gaze sank down to the floor.

"I'm sorry, my lord. I'm afraid that I have nothing to compare it with."

You could feel his piercing gaze to move to you then and you shivered under its weight.

"Please, call me Rhysand," his voice was kind, nothing like the cold, merciless one he used to address crowd in your hometown.

You swallowed hard. "My lord, I couldn't-"

He softly interrupted you. "If it makes you feel better, you can call me by my name only when we are alone. Like now."

Who you were to oppose the High Lord. "As you wish, my l-.. Rhysand," you curtsied.

"Ah, and no bowing, dear. I don't need such formalities. After all you aren't my subject anymore. We're equal. That's why I want you to treat me like that. What's your name?"

You again swallowed, dread eating up on you. Equal to High Lords. What a crazy thing to think. You could never be more than a servant, a submissive mute wife who would speak up only with husband's approval.

"My name is Y/N."

"Y/N," he repeated, tasting it. "Lovely name. How old are you, Y/N?"

"I-I'm 19."

He was silent for a moment. Feeling uncomfortable with his eyes trained on you, you shifted weight slightly, your gaze still focused on the pattern of tiles at his feet.

"Tell me, my dear, how do you feel about this? About the marriage?"

"I-" You started to sweat. What should you say? What did he want to hear?

"Don't be scared. You can be honest with me. I won't hurt you no matter what you say," his voice was so soft that you believed him.

"I'm just doing as I was told.." you stuttered.

"I thought so," he said sadly. "I guess that you've never met him before, right? Now that you've seen him up close, do you at least like him?"

"Eris," he added when you didn't respond right away.

"l-I'm not sure, my l-" Your heart was beating in your ears so fast. "I mean, he's quite good looking, but I'm-.. I don't know him well."

You felt like fainting any minute now, your vision blurring. If your husband overheard this conversation, he would certainly get so angry. Under no circumstances should a wife speak ill of her husband. Not even slightly. That was the very first rule you were taught.

"It's okay, my dear," in a blink of eye High Lord of Night was at your side, one hand supporting you, the other one gently rubbing on your back. "Just breathe. Deep breaths, yeah? Nobody's going to find out about what you said here. Don't worry."

Slowly you calmed down. Only once your heart slowed down, his hands moved to your face, lifting it up so he could look into your eyes. You gaped at him in surprise. Remembering the manners, you tried to avert your eyes to the side just above his shoulder as it was expected. However, he wouldn't let you, forcing your gaze back to his face with sad smile.

"Now listen to me carefully, dear Y/N. This isn't Hewn city. Whatever you experienced there, it's over now. You certainly heard all kinds of rumours about Eris and I'm not going to lie to you and say that that isn't true because it is. However, it doesn't mean that he'll be cruel to you too. If he was after all, you don't have to put up with it. If he ever hurts you, just let me know and I'll sent someone to get you to safety. Will you remember that?"

Whole galaxies danced in those violet-blue eyes that searched yours, genuine care seeping from each of his words. You quietly nodded, unable to find your voice.

"Good girl," he really smiled then. That kind grin completely changed his expression. If he was handsome before, now he was breathtaking. "I really hope you'll find your happiness here."

With that he stepped back and his hands casually slipped into the pockets of trousers. He once again looked up at the night sky.

"Autumn is beautiful season. I'm sure that you'll like it once you settle down enough to start to explore your new home. Tonight it's quite cold. Let's get you back inside. Eris gets mad if you catch cold because of me."

Offering you his arm, he escorted you back and to your seat. As soon as he noticed you, Eris stood up to hold a chair for you, his eyes narrowed at Rhysand.

"Unharmed. Just as I promised," Rhysand winked at him. Then he took your hand and placed a kiss on its back. "Be happy, dear Y/N."

"Thank you, my lord," you whispered, bowed to him and sat down. With a one-sided grin Rhysand spun on his heel and headed to his mate who was currently talking with some beautiful lady near to the dance floor.

Your husband slid into his seat, his gaze burning holes into Rhysand's back. He was quite displeased. You felt it even without looking up at him. Once you were again alone his hand found yours under the table.

"You are freezing cold," he murmured and his skin heated with magic. The warmth seeped into your brittle hands. For a moment your tension melted like a snow with the touch of his long fingers.

In contrast to the warm touch, when he spoke again, his voice was so cold and angry that you shivered. "What did he want?"

Breath caught in your throat, heart skipped few beats as all blood left your face.

"My lord," you said in small trembling voice, trying to swallow the lump that rose in your throat.

Eris cast a sidelong glance at you, his eyes narrowing. He said nothing, waiting for your answer.

"He asked me," you stammered, "about the wedding. A-and offered me help.."

"Help?" His fingers drummed impatiently on the table and then clenched into fist.

"Yes, my lord."

"What kind of help?"

You slightly cringed in your seat.

"T-to run away a-and shelter."

His hand squeezed your fingers firmer and you prepared for pain. Then he suddenly let go and started to slowly retreat back to his personal space. All the warmth left with him.

"And," he spoke quietly and slowly, "do you want to go with him?"

You panicked, your breath becoming labored. When your father spoke like this, it always meant the worst punishment. You knew what to expect from him, what kind of torment, but this male? You had no idea what he would do to you. Would he just beat you up? Or would he even burn you? Dozens of possibilities flashed through your mind.

"Do you want to go with him?" he repeated his question when it took you too long to answer.

Your fingers gripped the fabric of your skirt, but even that couldn't stop the tremor.

"N-n-no, my lord, n-never."

The tears began gathering behind your closed eyelids. You waited for the punishment. His fingers lightly touched the back of your hand, hesitantly, slowly moving forward until both of your hands were once again in his warm grip. He lightly squeezed them.

You heaved shakily. Opening eyes, you blinked away tears and gazed at your connected hands on your lap. His thumb was gently rubbing your knuckles now. It was.. comforting.

It was unbelievable. He did nothing to you, only held your hand. In disbelieve you looked up at his profile. He was again watching the dancing couples, his expression unreadable. After a while he turned to you with a tight smile. His eyes were soft and somehow sad when they met yours.

"I'd let you go, if you said that you wanted to."

The tears were back, stinging your eyes, but for the different reason now. Would he really let you go? Just like that?

Something sparked in your chest and hope filled your heart. Rhysand's words echoed in your mind: 'it doesn't mean that he'll be cruel to you'. You prayed to the Mother that it was true.

You shook your head decisively. "I don't want to," you said.

The corners of his mouth turned up for a second in a hardly there smile. As if he just reminded himself where he was, your husband broke the gaze, turning back to dancers and the unreadable mask slid back to his face with almost audible click.

You were breathless. His amber eyes. They engraved straight into your soul. For that short moment you saw flames burning in them, wild and sensual, playful and lustful but never hurtful.

Without knowing what you were doing, you freed one hand and placed it on his. The movements of his thumb stilled, whole his body tensed. You turned your other hand in his grip palm up, your fingers timidly intertwined with his. Out of the corner of his eye, he quickly looked down on your hands and then up at your face. With a small smile he relaxed in his chair. His fingers clenched, holding you firmly while thumb danced over your skin in rhythmic motion that matched the music.

The party went on for another three hours, some of the guests were already so drunken that servants had to help them into their seats. No one could leave before the newly married couple. It was around the midnight and you were so tired. It was a long and tiring day for you and it was starting to take its toll. Enveloped in pleasant warmth, your eyelids grew too heavy and it was getting more and more harder to fight the sleep.

Suddenly Eris's hand slipped from between yours and he called for servant with a small gesture. The boy immediately ran to him and leaned closer. Your husband told him something and boy disappeared. Not even a minute after that two maids appeared and approached you. They stopped to bow and one of them stepped closer to whisper to your ear.

"Please, follow us, my lady."

Fully awake now, you looked at Eris in silent question, but he only nodded imperceptibly. Your eyes flew to your father who gave you a scary look. The message was clear: if you messed this up, you would regret it.

It was time for the last part to conclude and seal the deal for good.

The marriage consummation.

A lump rose in your throat, cold sweat running down your spine. Mother told you what to expect, they taught you what to do to please your husband, but it didn't mean you were ready for that or that you wanted it. Your husband was handsome and his behaviour toward you was nice and a complete surprise so far, but still he was a stranger.

Whether you wanted or not, you had to do this.

Quietly accepting your fate, you stood up and on unstable legs followed the maids. As you were getting away from the ballroom, the music gradually died down until you were walking through completely silent part of the castle. The winding hallways were dimly lit and empty, red carpet muffled the footsteps. Here and there you noticed a huge painting or some shiny exhibited armor or statue. It was hard to say how far it was to your destination, but your heart was beating harder and faster with every step you took nonetheless.

Maids finally stopped before a tall oak double doors, as far as you could see the only one in this hallway. One of them opened it, the other one waited until you went in and then closed the doors behind.

You found yourself in some private sitting room. Fae lights dimly illuminated the huge finely decorated space in warm light brown, gold and beige colours. The windows were covered with heavy curtains, small fire crackled in a hearth in the corner of the room. There was smaller dinning table near the windows and set of sofas and armchairs with small pillows in autumn colours around the hearth. Bookshelves were full of books, soft looking carpet on the floor. It was cozy.

On each side of the room, there were identical double doors. Maids headed to the one on the left and opened it widely. With heavy heart to followed them into the bedroom with a massive bed that dominated to the room. Except of the bed there were also two ottomans and coffee table, vanity, mirror, some drawers and another doors that probably led to walk-in closet and bathroom. You could love it if only it wasn't a place for certain act you weren't ready for.

You swallowed hard, your eyes glued to that monstrous bed. Maids disappeared behind one of the doors and soon you heard sounds of running water from there. They were running around, preparing everything necessary, giving you a moment to breathe through the panic creeping on you. Then they came back to you. Without a word they helped you to free yourself from the heavy dress and corset.

Once in the bathtub they conscientiously washed every part of your body, massaging some nice smelling bath oils into your skin. After that they wrapped you in a soft towel and ushered you back to the bedroom to the vanity where they took care of your hair and helped you into the nightgown. They worked carefully but fast.

When they left, you looked in the mirror. The nightgown was made of fine, almost transparent fabric that hugged your body, leaving just little to imagination. You were on the verge of crying.

Internally panicking you sat down on one of ottomans because good wife should never go to bed before her husband and repeating to yourself all you were taught about the act, you waited.

And you waited and waited until you fell asleep.

Taglist: @nocasdatsgay @b0xerdancer @lilah-asteria @talesofadragon @marvelbros-oneshots @acourtofbatboydreams @li0nh34rt

[batboyblog]

2016 is often considered the point when leftism managed to get itself into the mainstream and became more popular, but I honestly can't help but wonder, given the sheer descent into conspiracy theory and selfish cruelty of the current state, whether in hindsight it was actually leftism's step into decline.

I've been thinking about this a lot, sadly I'm getting the start of a Migraine, so the edges of my thoughts are all fuzzy so idk if I'll be able to do what I think justice, but lets try.

The human mind doesn't really like complexity, it'd a pattern recognition machine built to find food and stuff that thinks you're food in the African brush. So we like to find patterns and lump stuff together, its hardwired in.

so "Leftism" I do understand what you mean, but I think it covers a really wide area.

and I think in politics we like to assign ideological and policy logic to things to political movements, it has to be about a coherent and rational ideology and world view we think. But... I think, often times it's emotional as much as anything. Did people vote for JFK or Reagan so much for policy as they, personally in their person, seemed to be the antidote to what was wrong in the moment? JFK seemed young and energetic when compared to an elderly and ill President Eisenhower, Reagan had the claiming aging leading man energy to make everyone feel like it'd be okay, a movie cowboy to lead us against bad guys we didn't understand while nice guy Jimmy Carter seemed stuck.

So back to 2016, I think there was so real ideology to start. The Left of the Democratic Party felt empowered after 2006, the left of the party had been against the Iraq War from the jump and that turned into the organizing issue that pushed Republicans out of power in 2006. A San Fran liberal, founding member of the House Progressive Cause was the first woman Speaker (and in favor of gay marriage too). In 2008 the Left of the party for largely emotional reasons sided with Obama over Clinton, even though they largely overlapped on policy and where there were (minor) differences she was to his left.

so riding high from two back to back wins, having gotten a lot of progressives elected to the House and Senate (like Bernie Sanders) progressive Dems were pretty let down by the real results, the ACA got bogged down and their dearest wish list item, the public option, which Pelosi fought for so hard, failed to make it into the final bill, and then 2010, a blood bath. And understandably there's been some frustration with Obama for not living up to the hype and also failing to really focus on state level races, Democrats got tarred hard

BUT! there's also an emotional side, Occupy Wall Street. I remember at the time being interested in it, I was young and more radical, but soon I got really frustrated because they had no demands, I watched every night MSNBC which was very sympathetic, but no one could articulate what it is they wanted, past a vague idea of "punish" the guilty.

I think there's a lot of restless frustration, some of it grounded and based in reality some of it not, in this country and its only grown over time as well as a contempt for and a break down of any kind of respect for experts and norms any anything established.

SO! I think that emotion latched onto Bernie and the left of the Democratic Party. As someone who worked that election I can tell you, at first knocking doors in New Hampshire, I got the taste of the very start of the campaign. And people would say "oh I'm voting for Bernie now, but I'll vote for Hillary in the general" but soon it went from friendly, from "we're pushing her to the left" to something bitter and angry. I had Bernie supporters tell me 1990s Fox News conspiracy theories around the Clintons, I had a Bernie supporter (in the general election) follow two college girl volunteers for blocks back to our office to SCREAM at us all.

Bernie won the New Hampshire Primary pretty commandingly that year, and partly because he had a strong volunteer network. But in the general despite many efforts we could barely get any of his regular volunteers to come work with us against Trump. I remember one lady who showed up just once and looked RIP SHIT! to be there, I think she said that all the positive stuff we said about Clinton, at a canvass launch for Clinton, made her "sick" and "don't expect me to say anything nice about her!" and she was one of only a tiny number of Bernie people who showed up in the general so she was better than some.

I remember the only Bernie Volunteer we got to become a regular. He'd knocked doors for months in New Hampshire for Bernie, organized his own phone bank into Nevada for their primary, drove down to South Carolina and spent the week before their primary knocking. Clearly a true believer, and when he decided to volunteer with us they kicked him out of the Facebook group he started and stopped speaking to him. I'll always remember what he said, that around the Bernie office they used to say that "a Trump voter was just a Bernie voter who hasn't been educated yet"

So I guess what I'm trying to say is, there were real motivations of the progressives and the left of the party, real policy based frustrations, particularly around how health care worked out, and I think Bernie Sanders himself was running because of that and to express that. But it tapped into something else, something not really political and much more emotional, rage and bitterness and a need to punish, the same energizes Trump taps into. It made a permission to be nasty to people you don't like, particularly women, I won't repeat the things people said on the phones, horrible.

now in 2024, almost 10 years later, there's a lot more depression mixed in, Trump talks about America as a 3rd world country all the time, there's just a vibe of having given up, hopelessness. There's a genocide and everything is horrible and hopeless and give up and die.

I don't believe in giving up, I don't believe in bitterness, I'm not a sunny person in real life, but I believe the point of politics, the politics I'm a part of, is lifting people up. It might be corny and uncool, but I believe in America, not that we're prefect, no, we're not, but together we've done great things, we fought a world war and went to the moon, and we can do great things together still always if we believe in each other, build each other up, stop being so afraid and weak and sad. I want to be beat fascism again, I want to go to the moon again, I want to beat climate change, and finally finally make the promise that all men are created equal REAL, and I don't believe in hiding behind walls, and crying that we can't do it any more, fuck that shit.

[bunabi]

You don't have to respond to this, I just don't have anyone irl who likes DA as much as me, but as a big fan of Origins I keep hoping for the next game to scratch an itch for me and with each game I get further and further from what I'm looking for. The in depth character backgrounds (that had real impact on the game!), the combat (it turns out I lothe RTS unless it's DAO but for some reason I love DAO's combat so much), and the impact of your choices are all things that seem to diminish with each game. I also agree with your frustration at not being able to be mean, I'm usually a goodie two shoes in games but my favorite Warden was one I made pragmatic and comfortable with authority to a dangerous degree because the brutal choices in Awakening result in the best outcomes for Ferelden. Plus even if you prefer the kind choices, you can't make choices unless you're given them. Luckily there's BG3 and Avowed coming out but it still feels like such a loss every time a new DA is released.

I wanna respond because you raise good points. 😔👍🏿

I feel the same way. I'm ride-or-die for Thedas as a world — the lore is easy to jump into and the amount of half-truths makes speculation really fun — but the games have strayed further and further from my personal tastes.

No DA entry is the same in its approach or execution, so I think having mixed opinions is completely natural.

Compared to Mass Effect which sticks to it's formula pretty closely from ME1 to Andromeda, DA is constantly changing. I think it could have benefited from more consistency. I understand why that wasn't always possible.

You're allowed to be disappointed or wistful or critical without it being construed as like...giving ammunition to bozos or tearing the developers down.

If we can't discuss those things what are we supposed to do? Sit in a circle pretending those features never mattered lol? That I never liked having more roleplay freedom, never liked companion relationships having more tension, never cared about tactics? No I don't think I will.

And I say this while fully accepting DAV for what it is. Even if I wasn't blessed with a code from EA I had every intention of playing it myself. I bought the art book. I've done two zines this year and contributed to two more. My career revolves around making art directly inspired by Inquisition's. Haven't read all the comics & books but I'm as 'hardcore' as it gets.

Me, of all people, being called a fake fan for wanting blood magic or not feeling the character model proportions shows how emotionally charged and unhinged things have gotten

All that to say: I think the best way to be a fan of anything is to acknowledge the good and the bad and let others do the same. So long as those conversations are in good faith there's nothing to lose and everything to gain fr.

[elmuvahva]

let me talk about leo and donnie’s matching clothes pLEASE

plus a lil bit of mikey and raph near the end :>

so we all know the obvious ones like in ‘repairin’ the baron’ and in ‘man vs sewer’

but i want to talk about the little things hehe. starting with the two mentioned above anyways lmaooo

yes they’re matching but i love the little differences they add on. leo wears a blue undershirt, fully going ride or die with his blue theme, while donnie goes for a white undershirt for a more classic look.

i think that says a lil but about their characters and how they thought to present themselves to april’s mum (who they thought they were meeting). they both wanted to look good hence the stunning matching outfits, but leo also wanted to be himself (hence the blue undershirt), compared to donnie who wanted to appeal to april’s mother (hence the more classic look with the white).

in man vs sewer, they are both wearing the singlet and board short combo, however leo opts for simplicity and ‘laidbackness’ keeping the bare minimum and keeping his shirt loose and untucked. donnie on the other hand goes further and adds the extra decorative shirt to really hammer home the ‘i’m not a useful member of society’ and the holiday/break vibes he’s trying so hard to feel. he also chooses to tuck his shirt in, which i think is just a personal stylistic choice, one which extenuates and shows off the board shorts more and one which mirrors his belt that’s a part of his usual outfit.

now onto snow day :>

at a brief glance it doesn’t seem like they’re matching but you’d be wRONG! they’re wearing the same shoes, pants and scarf, however they choose different jackets and headgear according to their personal tastes (i also wanna point out how donnie’s pants are more boxy/puffy at the bottom to fit with his whole rectangle theme, while leo’s are tucked in firmly, providing a more angular/triangular look).

leo chose a sirius black looking leather jacket bc why wouldn’t he lmaooo. it very much screams leo in the sense of his faceman attitude and his ‘confidence.’ he also chose a beanie which provides a more hippie, laidback and cool vibe.

donnie, ever the nerd, matches his jacket and headwear, as they both have the light purple fluff. donnies jacket is also much more practical and feels like something you’d see skii-ers (how tf do you spell that), hikers and snow-bikers wear. he’s also wearing the ugliest fucking hat /lh that’s reminiscent of what those occupations also wear.

so what we can take away from this is that leo will look cool whatever the weather and donnie will dress for the practicality of the occasion.

now in the clothes dont make the turtle there are A LOT of matching outfits, not just from donnie and leo, for example, in the images above, all the boys are wearing classic black suits with white button downs, however they all style them differently.

i’d also like to note the slight differences on the collars of the suit jackets (leo and donnie’s are matching, mikey’s is more rounded with a lil point and raph’s mirrors his spikes).

they all style their suits differently by using different ties. leo goes for a black and blue striped tie, which i think showcases his sense of style and his playfulness in comparison to raph, who decides to play it safe with a classic one-toned tie.

mikey goes for a cute bowtie bc why wouldn’t he he’s adorable, and it also fits in with him being the youngest and ‘the baby’, as bowties are most commonly worn by kids.

donnie decides to completely forego the tie altogether bc he doesn’t need it, he’s already stunning 😩 lmao but i actually think he’s just really playing into his emotionally unavailable bad boy image.

there’s also these matching monstrosities for god knows what reason

and it’s not super matchy, but raph and leo also both rock the singlet under the open button down shirt (though the colours are swapped and leo pops the collar causes he’s an idiot /aff)

and lastly!! these outfits. now at first glance, you’re probably thinking ‘elva what the fuck are you going on about’ BUT just hear me out!!

they both have ripped aspects to their outfits, leo’s at the shoulders and donnie’s at the waist. it’s obviously not an intentional match but i think they just subconsciously did it :>

they’re also both wearing head accessories, though in totally different styles (leo with his backwards cap to look ‘cool’ while donnie adorns a beanie to complete his LA hipster vibe)

ugh i’ve met the image limit for this post so here’s the link to the post that continues my rambling lolol

[aylacavebear]

Soulmates? Yeah, right, pft. - Ch. 10

When you turn sixteen, and your soulmate's name doesn’t appear anywhere on your body that you can find, you figure you had to be the only person on the planet who didn’t have one. Most of the town shuns you, so you stick close to family. Your Aunt Ellen raised you after your parents died in a car crash when you were two, but what happens when the Winchesters return to town and buried secrets begin to come to light?

Pairing: Mechanic Dean Winchester x OC Reader/You

Word Count: 2490

Warnings: Fluff, Dean being a sweetheart, Dealing with emotional stuff.

A/N: This is my non-Supernatural fic I'm attempting. Please let me know what you think, as I always love hearing from my readers.

----------------------------------------- Chapter 10

Over the next two weeks, not much really happened. There were times when the cameras alerted you to movement, but you never saw anything on them. That was frustrating, even after rewatching them a dozen or more times. Not even an animal was in the frames, anywhere. Dean had even watched them, and if he had seen anything or thought of anything, he’d kept it to himself.

You also hadn’t heard anything from anyone about what was going on in the outside world. It felt like being in a sort of limbo, playing the waiting game. Dean had started sleeping next to you in your bed as the nightmares began coming more often. It was only when he held you that they stayed away. They always involved the same people and the bunker being found.

The mark on your collarbone burned often, and when it was really bad, Dean always put cream on it. There was a gentleness in his touch that always seemed to calm you. The new feelings around him were odd but welcoming, and you wished his name would show up on your collarbone already, if he really was your soulmate.

You had also pushed many of your thoughts and questions to the back of your mind. There were far too many, and you had no way of getting the answers you needed. None of the pieces made enough sense to you to act on anything, so you kept things to only friendship with Dean. Hoping had only brought you pain in the past. You chose to enjoy just having a best friend and that you weren’t alone in the bunker, as that would have driven you stir-crazy.

There were times Dean would disappear to a different room than you and be gone for far longer than needed just to use the bathroom. You hadn’t said anything but made a mental note of how often it was, and it was becoming more frequent. When he’d return to whatever room you two were in at the time, he’d always have a small smile, but there was something in his eyes that told you he was hiding something.

You weren’t entirely sure what day it even was when you woke up that morning and crawled out of bed. Dean was already awake and in the kitchen. You found him there cooking yet another odd concoction with what non-perishables were available in the pantry. Yawning, you made your way to the coffee pot and poured a cup.

“Morning, Sweetheart,” he smiled, looking over at you briefly.

“Morning,” you yawned out, taking a seat at the kitchen table, still not awake.

“Hungry?” he asked.

“I guess,” you mumbled, sipping the warm coffee and enjoying the flavor. Dean always made the best-tasting coffee, and you couldn’t figure out how he managed to do that every damn time.

Dean plated up an interesting breakfast. You couldn’t even really tell what it was as you stared at the plate he had set in front of you. It smelled good, at least.

“I swear, it won’t kill you if you eat it. I had to get creative,” he chuckled, seeing the skepticism on your face. 

You gave him a wary glance before taking a bite of the odd-looking concoction on the plate in front of you but were pleasantly surprised with its taste. You weren’t sure if you could compare it to anything you’d eaten before, but at the same time, it tasted familiar. Dean smirked as he watched you realize what he had made tasted far better than how it looked.

“Honestly, it’s not bad,” you finally told him after a couple of bites.

“Glad you like it,” he managed through his laughter.

“I’m looking forward to tasting how you cook normal food,” you teased him with a small smile.

“This is normal food,” he chuckled, taking another bite.

You just rolled your eyes, playfully though, finding him adorable. The two of you ate mostly in silence, only talking about what you’d fill the day with. You’d watched all the movies in the place and had played almost all the simple word games either of you could come up with. As you washed the dishes, you mentioned wanting to look around again. 

Dean groaned from the table, “We’ve been over this place like a dozen times already.”

“I know. I just want to look,” you replied, more focused on your thoughts and the dishes than the conversation.

He made another annoyed grumble that you couldn’t quite make out before he headed out to the living room. A few moments later, you heard the sound of one of the westerns beginning to play. You weren’t all that into those particular movies and wondered if perhaps your father may have been. 

There were times, like today, when the bunker felt almost confining. You missed the sun and watching it set. To see the colors change as it dipped beyond the horizon. Then there were the stars at night and even the moon. They felt like distant memories as you walked into the monitor room. The box of files still sat there on the table. You’d looked through it multiple times but didn’t understand the legal jargon in half of it. With a heavy sigh, you sat down and pulled the papers out again, flipping through them in hopes that something would stand out. You’d put the letters from your parents there as well. As you reread the last one, you frowned, wishing you knew what was going on in the outside world. 

One of the camera recordings began flashing, drawing your attention to it. You changed seats and sat in front of the monitor, closely watching the camera. Still, it was like nothing was there.

I wonder if this place is haunted.

The thought almost made you chuckle. You knew that wasn’t the case, or the cameras would have alerted you far before this set of incidents. They typically didn’t flash during the day, and today, you saw something. It didn’t seem like much to you as you tilted your head and watched the tiny rock barely come into view on the far side of the screen. Hell, you would have missed it if it had happened at night.

“Dean!” you hollered, staring at the monitor.

He showed up behind you far faster than you thought he would, “What? What’s wrong?” he asked, almost sounding out of breath for a moment.

“A rock set this one off,” you told him, still fairly dumbfounded at the oddness of it.

“A rock?” he asked, but he didn’t sound confused, he sounded concerned.

You pulled up the recording and showed it to him on the screen, where it had barely come into view on the far side of what the camera could pick up. “See. There,” you told him, pointing to the rock again on another replay.

“Sweetheart, move,” he told you, and his tone began to worry you, but you got up so he could sit down.

“It’s just a rock,” you said, crossing your arms.

Dean didn’t say anything in return. He began pulling up old videos, and you sighed. Instead of standing there and watching him, you cleaned up the papers on the table and put them neatly back in their box. You glanced at Dean one more time before heading out to the living room, now fairly bored, again. 

You and Dean had moved the furniture around a few different times, just trying to make the place feel different, but it was beginning to feel stifling. The things you missed played through your mind again as you tried to remember what the sun felt like on your skin or the breeze of a cool fall day blowing through your hair.

The two of you had gone over every inch of the place and hadn’t found any more secret rooms, but for some reason, you felt like you were still missing something. You weren’t even sure where to look at this point. Knowing you had to distract yourself from your thoughts, you sighed and began looking over the bookshelf again. 

In movies, they always use bookshelves to hide secret rooms. Is that too obvious? Would my parents do that sort of thing? 

Again, you slid your fingers over the shelves and along the books. Nothing stood out or felt different. It just felt like a regular wooden shelf painted white to match the off-white walls. It was the one piece of furniture that neither you nor Dean could move though. You even checked along the sides of it where it met the wall.

The surface was smooth under your fingers as you slowly trailed them down the side of the bookcase. There was literally nothing there, just shelf and wall. Frustrated, you grabbed a chair from the kitchen and set it in front of the bookshelf. Last time, Dean had been the one to check the top of it and along the wall. You were barely tall enough once on the chair to see the top of the bookshelf. It was a little dusty, so you tried to wipe it away with your hand. Even after you got most of the dust off of it, you still didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary. It just looked like a shelf to you. With a sigh, you ran your index finger along the back where it attached to the wall. You may not have felt anything, but you heard something click, and the shelf popped half an inch away from the wall.

You nearly fell off the chair, startled due to standing on your tiptoes. Holding your chest as your heart began to calm down, you slipped off the chair, moving out of the way. Dean still hadn’t come out of the monitor room, so you slipped your fingers inside the small opening and pulled the shelf away from the wall. It was another staircase that led down.

Makes sense. The house above is two stories, why wouldn’t this one have another floor?

The air that drifted from the staircase felt cooler than the floor you were on, and it piqued your curiosity. You glanced toward the hallway before slipping inside, then down the steps. It wasn’t as narrow as the other staircase, but it was dark. I should have looked for a light switch.

Making it to the bottom, you moved your hand along the wall and smiled when you found the light switch there. A light above the stairs came on, causing you to look at it. Then you cursed under your breath for looking at the bright bulb. There was an open doorway to the right of the stairs, so again, felt along the inside of it for a light switch. You really didn’t feel like fumbling around in the dark.

As your fingers flicked it upward, your jaw nearly dropped. The room was huge. In the center was a pool table, and along the walls were more bookcases, only these held games and books of all sorts. 

Wish I’d found this a month ago.

You chuckled to yourself as you looked around, even peeking into the other room that was there. When you did, your jaw hit the floor. It was a walk-in freezer almost the size of the pantry on the other floor. You licked your lips when you saw all sorts of different meats packed neatly away on the shelves. Dean’s gonna love this.

As you were reading over some of the book titles, you barely heard your name being called from upstairs, which pulled your gaze to the open doorway. Knowing you shouldn’t make him worry, you headed back upstairs, making it past the bookshelf just as he came into the living room.

He looked at you, fairly confused, “What’d you find?”

“You’re gonna love it,” you told him excitedly, completely forgetting the rock thing on the monitor from earlier.

You grabbed Dean’s hand and led him downstairs. He looked just as surprised as you were, but when he saw the walk-in freezer, he smiled from ear to ear.

“Oh, we’re having steak tonight,” he stated after licking his lips. Dean picked out a couple of steaks and then went back into what you had deemed the game room. “Might have to test out that pool table later,” he added as he glanced over at it.

“Do you even know how to play pool?” you asked him mildly curiously.

“Sweetheart, yes, I know how to play pool,” he chuckled, shaking his head in amusement.

The enjoyment was short-lived as a small red light lit up near the doorway, and the two of you looked at each other before running back upstairs. You’d even forgotten to turn off the lights down there. Dean still had the steaks in hand as you reached the monitor room, but again, there was nothing noticeable on the screen. 

He sighed and set the steaks on the table, then stood behind you, “They’re trying to figure out where the cameras are and how far they can see,” he explained in a worried tone.

You looked up at him, still a bit confused, “What do you mean?”

“Your birthday is less than a month away. Sam’s at least got your case in the system, and the first court date is next week, but that’s just to hear it out. Vaught’s men are trying to find you before your birthday and before things get too far in the courts,” Dean explained as he leaned against the table, crossing his arms.

Looking back at the monitor you saw it flash red again. The rocks they were using were almost impossible to spot. “But, they can’t find us here, can they?” you asked quietly, hoping you didn’t sound as worried as you felt.

“So far, I don’t think they can. Jodi even called in some outside help to keep an eye on the house, but these guys are good. At least your parents hid the cameras well. We won’t have to worry unless these people find them and take them out,” Dean replied, keeping an even tone.

It was something you couldn’t understand with him, how he seemed to keep what he was feeling out of his words. He also seemed to keep his expression just as plain. There were little things he did, but they were so subtle they were easy to miss.

“Why does it feel like there's something you’re not telling me?” you asked carefully.

He sighed, still watching the monitor, “Sam found a loophole in the paperwork. If he can’t get a judge to take on your case and have the paperwork in a judge's hands before your birthday, Cole has the legal right to marry you, and no one can stop it. He could even make the case last for years in the system, and you’d have to stay married to him.”

No… ----------------------------------------- Chapter 11

Story Master List Main Master List

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@chriszgirl92 @angzls @xolivvies-cornerxo @certainsaladstarfish @onlyangel-444

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@megs-gadom

If I missed tagging, please let me know. I had a lot of requests for tags for this one. If you'd like to be tagged, drop me a comment.

[sarasade]

It's been pretty interesting to follow the

"Why Didn't Viren Get Redeemed vs Viren Got What Was Coming To Him"

discussion after The Dragon Prince's 6th season got released.

Hot Take

I think Viren got redeemed.

Because to me Viren humbling himself and acknowledging the hurt he has caused was redeeming. His conversation with Soren was the main event. His rather heroic death was only the cherry on top of the character development cake that has been baking since s4.

I think Viren dying wasn't as significant as what he did before that and how he tried to provide Soren with some kind of comfort and closure, you know, as a parent should, before going. Viren's redemption wasn't just him dying for Katolis but acknowledging his wrongdoings and trying to salvage what he could.

That was pretty redeeming for me at least. Viren did the right thing even when he knew there wouldn't be any reward for it. Even if he couldn't stop Aaravos from destroying Katolis or manipulating Claudia even after his death. Like, man, I kinda feel for the guy.

I think it has always pretty easy to feel sympathy for Viren. Viren wants to matter and wants to be important. However, his grandiosity, as psychologists would call it, keeps him from creating genuine connections with others. His friends, wife and children are only there to prop up his ego or get rejected if they fail to live up to his expectations. It's also pretty damn tragic that Viren opens up about his deep insecurities to Aaravos of all people. Someone who was the most likely person in the world to exploit these insecurities for his own gain.

Viren had to taste his own medicide but I don't think TDP says that's an objectively good thing per se or that we should enjoy this sort of revenge fantasy uncritically. Viren is still portrayed rather sympathetically and of course there is the part about his actions affecting others and the world in unpredictable ways. It's still a tragedy because Viren's actions and personal problems have caused so much collateral damage. The Why behind Aaravos exploiting Viren and Claudia is part of that tragedy, too. There are no winners here. In a way Viren is a victim of his own narcissistic tendencies, too.

This isn't just about the final episodes of Viren's arc. To me it's essential to ask What was Viren's biggest sin he should be redeemed or punished for? Depending on your answer you may have a relatively different reading of s6 story development compared to mine.

To me it's not a specific action he took but his whole worldview. Viren is a fictional character (duh!) so his story isn't exactly literal but metaphorical, a representation of certain values and morals real people and society holds. In s3 TDP draws a pretty straightforward, though brief, comparison between Viren and reactionary right-wing ideologues. It's not exactly subtle.

It's just one way TDP goes to show how toxic and abusive Viren's core values are. that gets reflected both in Viren's personal life aka how he treated Lissa, Soren and even Harrow and Claudia (last two more indirectly). Since he also had a ton of political power as a high mage and briefly as a king we see what he did with that power. It's a pretty clear take on people who dehumanise others, fetishise power and see all living things as something to exploit. TDP explores that both philosophically and psychologically through Viren. Dark magic encapsulates this philosophy well since using magical creatures like tools or objects is essential for it to work.

Also also- I don't really get why people see redemption or atonement as something black and white. It's not bad or anything but Redeeming Yourself For Your Sins is a very Christian concept and Christianity isn't the only way to understand villain story arcs. Like I wish there could be more discussion about WHY redemption is the main analytical framework we impose on villains when villainous characters have a ton of variety anyway.

I don't really have anything to complain about Viren's death itself and I'm not surprised that he ended up dying (for real this time). Aaravos seemed like someone who'd turn against Viren the moment he stopped being useful to him so Viren's life has been hanging by a thread since s4. Viren was the best part of TDP and every scene he's been in had been a delight, well expect the s5 dream sequence because it was too long-winded and obvious, anyway, I'm sorry to see him go and I look forward writing AU fix-it fics where he and Aaravos are married and run a hot brown morning potion shop with all their four totally not dead children. RIP Viren. You lived like a messy bitch and died like a messy bitch. Iconic.

[zombii-ships]

SDJ BOYS: KINK HEADCANNONS

sorry if these are ooc i was just brainstorming and bein a horny nerd

Jack

-World’s biggest breeding kink. Dude’s absolutely got a huge thing for claiming his partner, and he loves to watch his cum spill back out of them.

-Praise. PRAISE HIM. PLEASE. Tell him how good he makes you feel and he’s over the fucking moon. He’s so motivated by praise, the simplest “you’re making me feel so good” is gonna flip such a switch in his head.

-Makeup/Body Paint. Whether it’s seeing his partner in clown paint, painting their body and feeling them up, his own makeup smearing on them, or theirs running on their face, he loves it. Jack’s immediately down for round two if he catches a glimpse of his partner’s liner/lipstick on his chest.

-Foodplay. You thought whipped cream was just for the pancakes? Surprise surprise!

Joseph

-Size Difference. Loves feeling big compared to his partner, whether he’s topping or bottoming, he loves the difference. Loves seeing his partner in his clothes, especially his jackets and pajama pants. Put on something of his and its gonna ignite something in him.

-Voice Kink. He LOVES getting to hear his partner, if they make a noise while they stretch? He’s horny. Moan? Horny. Whisper in his ear? Horny. So so easily stirred if he’s the one who gets you to make noise for him, too~

-Hickies. MARK. HIM. UP. PLEASE. Dude absolutely loves getting to show off what his partner did to him, he wears them like badges of honor.

-Bonus, I know he’s an absolute FIEND for giving head and he loves just knowing that he’s pleasuring his partner. Dude’s a total pleasure top.

Shaun

-A nut for roleplay. Pet/Owner, Slasher/Final Survivor, Vampire/Prey, whatever, dude LOVES playing a little horny pretend with his partner.

-Masks. Ghostface, leatherface, pyramid head, gas masks, he loves the mystery there and he finds it really hot. Goes along with his roleplay kink, but either way, he’s super into it.

-Exhibitionism. Give him the go to make porn of yall and he’s gonna go nuts. Something about filming the deed or just you getting off turns him tf ON. Plus if he can go back and show you the footage?? “Look how pretty you looked here. Fuck- lemme rewind so I can hear that sound again~”

-Monster/Abnormal Toys. What’s a horror junkie without some monster dildos??

Nick

-Begging. Beg HIM. Beg him for whatever, doesn’t even have to be sexual, he just loves it. He just wants to hear you pleading with him, asking for his permission.

-Shibari. Let him make your body into art. The more intricate the better. Whether it’s simple ties or a whole full body production, it’s the artistry and the restraint that really gets him, plus seeing you wrapped up for the taking isn’t half bad either. Bonus points if he gets to do pretty harnesses and collars ✨

- Waxplay/Temperature Play. You or him, but mainly you I think. You’re the canvas and he’s the painter, and he’s obsessed with how you let him paint you. Whether it be pretty dark colored wax, gently touching you with ice, or just warm hands against your skin, he loves your reactions, watching you squirm between the different sensations.

-Oral Fixation. Don’t suck on his fingers unless you wanna rile his ass up

Ian

-Cosplay/Costumes. IF YOU LET HIM DRESS YOU UP he’s going to go absolutely feral. Ian’s a fashion fan, so seeing you in something he specifically coordinated to look good on you and to his personal tastes would have him going over the deep end. He’s literally obsessed.

-Blindfolds. Now I know he’s scared of being left alone, but I think he’d enjoy the rush of giving up control to you like that, letting you touch and trail over his body without knowing what’s next would have him super sensitive and needy in seconds. Plus if you let him blindly roam his hands over you?? He’s about to get SO handsy.

-Also a roleplay guy. He’s an actor, let him get into a role! Not only is he excited to make the bit convincing, but he might slip pretty deep into it, local man gets horny from improv.

-Body Writing. Write all your favorite things about him on his body, and let him put his signature on you?? Dude would be over the moon going about his day with your words of praise written on his chest, tummy and hips.

[snufkinsong]

yj season 3 spoilers

honestly i’m going to be so real.. as captivated as i am by the season 1-2 character dynamics, i wish i hadn’t watched season 3 of yellowjackets. it just didn’t feel faithful to my image of the show, which is okay that doesn’t make it bad in itself. that being said, i’ve waited until the finale to talk about this because i didn’t want to get ahead of myself. if you’re mutuals of mine who are also fans of the show, i hope you won’t unfollow or anything even if you did really like this season! i’m more rambling about some frustrations. there are plenty of things to like, just not enough for me in comparison to previous seasons which were just fantastic in my opinion.

i don’t know to the fullest extent why but everything in this season has just felt very anticlimactic for me. the adult timeline feels like it’s inconsistently oscillating from drama to comedy rather than a cohesive synthesis of the two. i think what’s kept me into it (and keep in mind i’ve never been one of those “skip the adult timeline” people in any of the seasons. it’s just this one) is that the actors are phenomenal at working with what they’re given.

tai’s character has become so flat for me despite the fact that they are exploring darker tai to such a large extent. it’s like they tore away all of her ambition once van returned to the picture. no desire to be in government anymore. they just glossed over the fact that she crashed her car and put her wife into a coma… traumatized her son.. and they only have them play little bit roles in this season? tai is not the type of person to just jump ship and act like her family doesn’t exist. at least in my mind. it feels like such a massive disservice. she was such an intriguing character when she had to balance her life as a politician, a black, openly lesbian one at that, who has this deep seated trauma that is tormenting her and keeping her awake. why is it that she, as an incredibly powerful character, specifically one of the few black characters on the show, diminished to “van’s girlfriend”?

lottie’s death just felt so random. i honestly am not unconvinced that the writers just didn’t know what to do with her character. also, what happened with lisa? it would have been so cool to see lottie trying to hold herself accountable, not just for trying to kill shauna again in their adult lives, but for exploiting vulnerable people as a cult leader when she knows how it feels to be vulnerable. why couldn’t they have given her a greater purpose involving repentance for all of those she’s hurt as a hurt person herself? this could’ve even tied in earlier laura lee visions. despite loving her character, i felt nothing at her death scene, knowing it was coming, and knowing simone kessel herself has qualms with how her character left the show.

melissa being the one to survive all of this is just laughable. i liked her character quite a lot in the younger timeline this season, yet it reads as a writing decision made solely for the sake of having her be a survivor as hillary swank. love her, but why couldn’t it have been mari or akilah, whose characters have been continually developed, who are also poc by the way, and who provide such unique roles in the group? why why why did you have shauna take mari’s hair? it feels tone deaf. the entire thing seems like it’s meant to be dehumanizing to show shauna’s devolution, but it honestly just leaves a bad taste in my mouth that the victim is mari specifically. she strips her and drags her across the ground. compare that even to javi’s death.. the humiliation is far worse.

skipping the cabin fire with a time-jump to them having these ornate natural shelters they’ve created.. almost broke the immersion for me off the bat. plus, the goats and pet rabbits (that are easily distinguishable from wild rabbits) also just made me confused. wouldn’t it have made more sense to corral deer and cgi in some hares or wild rabbits or something?

this next part is much more subjective and personal, so take it with a grain of salt. i’m not saying this is indicative of bad writing..

i’m glad to have jackieshauna confirmed in some ways, those ways mostly being a “stick it” to the people who claimed that anyone who ships it is just trying to make everything gay and there is no such thing as queer subtext blah blah blah. on the other hand, i don’t feel like it was done the way i would have liked it. i think part of the appeal was also the fact that their visible love (and yes season one really spells it out for most people who can read a glance even slightly) felt so untouchable, like it was just for them despite being written on their faces. it felt like it was something shauna had to mourn subconsciously along with jackie’s death itself because of all the things left unsaid. i think the tragedy of that remaining the case added to the appeal of the pairing. maybe this part is a bit ridiculous. it just came off as fan service. i don’t think many people complain about their “ship” being confirmed in canon, but i just wanted to express some of my lingering feelings.

sorry for the disjointedness of this post! anyways, i’ll still be interacting with plenty of yellowjackets content. i love the characters still, and the remaining cast.

[acid-ixx]

ive recently read this post made by @pantalonte and it's reminding me of hard-dom yandere scaramouche that people often write and nooo i can't tolerate it at all </3

i don't know much about kaveh but what i do know is that he's passionate, a perfectionist, and he cares too much. and when he's obsessed with you then it evidently seeps into his personality. he'd love to share ideas with you, love to see your interest in his crafts, and he'll make sure that with whatever topic you've talked about with him— he's done research on.

it's no doubt that even his roommate would eventually become annoyed at the incredibly obsessed architect who does nothing but yap about you, you, and you. how he'd love to settle in with you by the near future with a house, no, a mansion that he specifically crafts in regards to your tastes (but you're not even in a relationship, yet). wouldn't you relish at the fact that he has multiple blueprints finished that are all inspired by you? he may not earn a lot but he's even willing to take painful commissions that don't cater to his aesthetic just so he could save up some mora for your future home. he knows that his love for you is oozing in every bit of his life but he can't help it at all- he's never drowned in love before he even met you; and he've so much love to offer you.

he's definitely one of the more subservient and submissive yanderes that i could tackle. after all, i can imagine him kneeling on a cold, hard floor if you're on the meaner side, just to please you. he's also the type to be easily jealous and showy on his affections, at the same time flustered if you show him an ounce of it. if someone else were to flirt with him then whoever that person may be, i'd feel bad for because he won't shut up, in a defensive tone no less, about how nobody else can can compare to you: his muse, his love, his world, his everything. but when you flirt with him then he'll have no responses to come back with because his mind is hay-wiring.

jealous yan kaveh! is not only obsessive possessive, but wants to be possessed by you, in a way. he wants to be your only object of affection. he wants your eyes on him; and he'll make sure of that. if you've specific tastes then he'll cater to it, whether it'd be striking up a topic with you on a casual day or even going as far as stealing all your attention and time to ask for your opinion on a future 'mansion' he's planning to build (you wouldn't even know that every single one of your opinion is taken seriously to a T).

murder is definitely not first in his mind whenever his brain is clogged with the thought of competition, but he finds himself subconsciously guilt-tripping whoever is taking your attention, and sometimes even you because of how terribly he keeps his emotions in check. and because he opens up his heart to you, you're well-aware about his financial issues and that's a topic he'd vaguely mention in a conversation with you, and a useless face with a name he won't remember. he's independent, yes, but your sympathy and pity on him is something he'd unknowingly devour as you become closer with the architect.

his heart flutters at the thought of you helping him with a project, or a domestic life where he most certainly caters to the idea of being your house husband. he's passionate, so it won't be long 'til he learns a thing or two about housekeeping. and if he messes up on chores, then who's to say you wouldn't help your poor, needy husband? ahhh, just dreaming about your futures sure does things to his beating heart.

drunk yan kaveh! would be the cutest company you'll ever have if he's with you, and would be the most annoying if not. with his intolerance to alcoholic beverages, he'll be bound to confess. and no doubt that he's a light drinker but you'll never expect him to be drunk after a few shots, no? he's all over you, blushing and giggling and muttering about how you're the love of his life; his soulmate. he nearly falls off his seat trying to scoot over to your body, attempting to hug you, dare even kiss your cheeks and nape if you permit it. his head lolls over your shoulder as he whispers directly beneath your ears that you're the most stunning person he's ever had the joy to meet, that if he could (and most definitely would)- he'll offer you the world, maybe the universe, even if it's impossible.