#but I was legitimately bothered about 1 and 2

[icarusredwings]

For anyone wondering where the next part of their fic is-

This is currently my priority list, not including random drabbles I think of, like Zombie Au, in which case doesn't have a real fic and is just there to mess around with.

It's going:

-Silence au chapters 3 4 and 5 @bougiebutchbitch

-Cherik fic final chapter @stucky-just-stucky

-Evelyn au final chapter (probably lying) @sirwadewilsonfromimgur

-Morph drabble (tbh I could probably knock this out faster then Im thinking of but I want it to be perfect so its taking forever) @joykai

-Widdle wolvie part 3 @shittyvampire

-Scogan smut (fucking eventually?)

-Finding home au legitimate chapter 1 rn I only have drabbles and Id like to work on it being a true solid fic and not just random thoughts piled together.

As someone with AuDhd, PLEASE don't think I forgot about you! I just constantly have something on my brain and it does NOT mean I like you any less if your thing is lower on the lost, this is a dopamine rated list.

Helps more for silence au bc I already wrote chapter 6 which forces my brain to wanna do the rest.

I am also a father of 2. Please remember this but if you ever wanna talk about concepts for a specific au or fic I have PLEASE do. I love talking about it and you will not be a bother, Im grown enough to respond when I have time, so you WILL NOT be a bother <3

Fics ive abandoned:

I'm so sorry to the Nightwolves/ Logurt community but my brain thinks the logurt fic is too much work now aka no longer fun for me to write. You can still ask about it but yeaahhh that serotonin is gone already :")

@panties-on-boys sorry 😔

[fennthetalkingdog]

I'm just figuring out how important music is in my life! This is coming from a long while trying to cut down on my music use, mostly because I was listening to it so much that it felt more like I couldn't do anything without popping in some earbuds, and partially because of other personal reasons. Some of my routines changed, forcing me to not listen to music while doing certain things, and it ended up becoming that besides working on homework or drawing, I didn't listen to music at all. But I've given myself a break today since I have nothing to do and since, for reasons, I'm feeling just a lil crappy today—and boy, I'm starting to realize again just why I love music!!

I love the diverse music taste I've developed over the years! My family is not only big about music but big about listening to it loud, so the majority of my music taste for most of my life has just been Christian hiphop (Lecrae, KB, Andy Mineo, Trip Lee, and ironically Tonex, whose album where he was struggling hard with his gayness has been my favorite concert movie since I was 5) and gospel music (Kirk Franklin, Tye Tribbett, etc.). And music was one of the few connections between me and my race (I grew up feeling pretty estranged from my blackness as a kid, but the popular songs they played at the YMCA in the 2010s were some of the few things I could use to feel more connected) and between me and my classmates/friends at the Y (I still have fond memories of playing FNAF songs in mat forts and reciting lyrics at pool parties). But I got tired of knowing I could never bond with anyone besides family friends music taste-wise when I was in high school, and so I started listening to secular music on my own time. And that's how I first found Ghost and Pals, a vocaloid artist and one of the first secular music folks I listened to as a kid (can you smell the religious trauma yet? Lol), and that's how I bonded with one of my best friends in early college (ironically, also my first time being publically queer). Now I listen to Kpop, anime songs, songs from warriors MAPs, songs from musicals (Hamilton and In the Heights <3), latin songs, metal songs, and even some secular songs young me would've been too scared to listen to.

And music has always been one of my biggest sources of stimming! I can't dance to save my life, but music will sure get me to flick my fingers and hit my fist against my shoulder furiously. Music was one of the first clues that I like stimming with vibration too (since I love laying against the car door and turning up the music loud enough to feel the world shake around me). And music was one of the first things that made me look into ADHD or autism (specifically, listening to Ghost and Pals songs for a month straight and getting my friend at early college [who also has ADHD] to start looking at me funny when I was discovered doing chores and listening to one of three songs for the fifth time). Music is so cool it'll get me to wax poetically. It was one of the things that kept me together during my roughest times and soothed me during my best. I listen to it while I write, while I cry, while I hang out with my friends and family and while I chill by myself. It's how I relax after a long day, and it's how I feel safe. I feel kinda emotional finally having music hit that spot in me without feeling like I need it to do stuff.

[steakout-05]

having social anxiety on tumblr dot com is so fucking frustrating cause like. i'll see a post i like and want to reblog but i do it with so so so much embarrassment because my brain's just thinking "oh god oh fuck im being so stupid right now what if op sees it and thinks im annoying" but like. they realistically would either not care at all or be happy about someone reblogging their post so like what the actual fuck am i afraid of??? but here's the kicker. the reason i have social anxiety in the first place is because i HAVE experienced these comically horrible social experiences of being judged and insulted for no reason before. multiple times. recently. the possibility of this happening is not a 0 chance. i have legitimate reasons to be afraid. and that is. actually horrific

[shadowfoxsilver]

Some quick tips to spotting accounts that are pretending to be a Palestinian needing mutual aid. Please keep in mind that not all of them are scam accounts, and that some may legitimate blogs who just aren’t too knowledgeable on how tumblr works. This guide is based around what I go by when checking certain blogs and usually it’s a quick giveaway the blog is a scam.

Please read this post too from my other blog before you tell people don’t donate to gfms:

1. You was sent the ask as someone who regularly shares Palestine related content such as regular news updates of posts by other Palestinians who are regularly giving updates. You may also get these asks from sharing a popular post that is from the Palestine tag. If you post often about Palestine, you will always start getting these asks. These askers don’t care if you state don’t send the asks. They will anyway. Unfortunately minors also get sent asks.

2. The ask has odd formatting such as having odd quotation marks in it or unusual formatting that may indicate it’s been edited and copied from somewhere else. Often the ask is the same thing as the post itself minus a link to a donation site. These asks rarely change so searching it should pull up if it’s been sent to other bloggers and sometimes the asks are edited only to add new phrases to them in time.

3. The account is almost always a few days old or a week old or long depending on how often they have sent asks. Usually some may even be an hour old and reusing a familiar pfp/ask.

4. The blog has a few Palestine related posts or posts from random tags reblogged to pad out length and then no more. They will have no original posts besides the pinned post while occasionally answering asks that they may have received but otherwise nothing else and no further updates given either.

5. They may have a Linktree link that is called “GoFundMe” as if indicating they have a GoFundMe there. However, they don’t. When clicked on, the Linktree actually goes to a PayPal account whose name may not even match the one their supposed name is. They’ll say it’s a friend, but it’s just the same person not someone else. You’ll see this same name across multiple accounts after a while usually giving away it’s not legitimate even under a different theme.

6. The text used by the blogs are often real stories stolen from legitimate fundraisers and searching parts of it in your preferred search engine should pull up the sources. These sources make no mention of a tumblr account either or don’t have the PayPal account associated with them in the info. Scammers often impersonate a real person in need and will ignore you if you show them the source they copied from.

7. Legitimate Palestinians often link to their own GoFundMe posts that their friends have set up or post links to other social platforms they are found on. They will regularly post updates when possible, post sources to support them when necessary, and also generally have some method of verifying their legitimacy. They may often share links to support others as well or give links to charities that have been shown as reliable. They will have more original posts than just a single pinned one and regularly speak to other tumblr accounts beyond just an ask. Please don’t bother them with asks about possible scam accounts. There are many guides out there that can do that for you if you search. You may find verified fundraisers too.

8. Scammers don’t know anything about Palestine and will often have trouble once you ask them anything beyond the mutual aid post. They don’t know the languages decently and you can tell it pretty easily if you’re one who uses it regularly. Whatever the scammers use is often just copied off the site they got the post from. Sometimes the text is just reused from past scams such as asking for insulin that doesn’t last long.

9. These scammers can and will use names stolen off real Palestinians to look more legitimate and trustworthy. They change names constantly once one of their PayPal accounts is shut down.

10. If you do see a GoFundMe link on a blog, don’t immediately assume it’s a scam just because it’s a relatively new account. Check the post notes to see if anyone’s verified the account yet or wait a bit as it takes time. You likely can search around to see if anyone’s posted anything where the blog has been vetted by others. You may also see if the GoFundMe is referred to on other socials or on lists that compile verified and vetted fundraisers.

Please don’t let these scams deter you from sending support where it needs to go. Even if you can’t donate personally, there are other ways to help. If you are sending money, please make sure that it’s going to where it’s needed and the place it’s sent has been verified accordingly. If you find a blog is a scammer, and have been able to prove it, please make sure to alert anyone sharing the post and report the account.

[bountydroid]

Darlin' pt 8

pt 1 / pt 2 / pt 3 / pt 4 / pt 5 / pt 6 / pt 7 (SMUT) / pt 9

Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x f!reader (Romance)

Description: Cooper and Reader enjoy SuperDuperMart.

TW: Mentions of bad parenting and emotional abuse, mentions of sex but no smut.

The next couple of days felt like pure bliss. We spent our time exploring SuperDuperMart, finding endless supplies. I even finally was able to change my clothes into something cleaner. It was surprising that the place was not more ransacked than it was. Maybe it was the location that protected it. Eventually, I had Cooper move the bodies away from the couch and into a different room. During the act, I was too distracted to mind, but the idea of having sex next to them bothered me. The flickering lights and the decrepit couch started to feel like home, someplace we could stay forever. The large supply of Jet would have him set for a long time so he no longer needed to worry about making money to survive. 

More often than not, we ended the days wrapped up in each other, naked on the couch. Bit by bit, Cooper started to open up to me more. Telling me bits and pieces about his ex-wife and daughter. He would never admit it but it hurt him to talk about it so he didn't say much, but was grateful for anything he was willing to give me. I told him more about my home. My father and brothers who kept me locked away in the house, constantly cooking and cleaning. The romance books that I hid under my bed so my father wouldn't take them away. How desperately I wanted to escape but was too afraid to for so long.

"Someday, I'm going to pay that man a visit." He hissed; the venom clear in his voice. 

While I was grateful that he wanted to avenge me, I was happy with the idea of never going back there again. Not even for revenge. They didn't deserve to know I was alive and happy. Not that they would care.

On this particular day, we ended the night like we always did, naked on the couch with me sprawled out on top of him, a light blanket covering the bottom half of my body. It was becoming my happy place, and he seemed to enjoy it just as much. 

"We've become domesticated," I mumbled into his chest, causing him to laugh.

"I will NEVER be domesticated, darlin'. I'm just takin' a break is all." He responded; determination clear in his voice. 

Honestly? I didn't mind the idea of leaving this place eventually. I would follow that man anywhere. "I'm excited for our next adventure then."

-

I woke up groggy and confused as I heard footsteps coming closer. Cooper groaned as he pulled the blanket farther up my body, shielding me from wandering eyes. 

"Why hello there boys. Now ya'll here for the ice cream social, I'm afraid I got some bad news." He said, converting back into his old, cocky self.

One of the men crouched in front of the couch, looking between us, a look of disgust clear on his face. I squeaked from the embarrassment as I clutched at the blanket.

"That is absolutely disgusting," He murmured at the sight of us before looking over at the robot that had been stuttering for days. "Take it's fusion core." He nodded to the other men. 

I was practically buzzing from the fear coursing through my body. Cooper could feel it, so he snaked his arm around me protectively.

"Now," The man started again. "Destroying a legitimate business? That's illegal around these parts." He said, a cocky tone in his voice. 

"Says who?" Cooper asked, anger clear in his voice. 

"The government." The man responds menacingly before one of the others hit Cooper in the head with the butt of his gun, knocking him out. We were so focused on the man in front of us that we didn't notice the one sneaking around the back of the couch.

"Cooper!" I squealed as one of the men grabbed my arm and wrenched me off of him causing the blanket to fall to the ground. "Well looky here." The man slurred as I tried my best to cover myself. "How did a ghoul get so lucky? You some sorta pervert?" 

"Let go of me!" I cried out, looking back to Cooper. He started to stir, slowly waking up from the temporary loss of consciousness. In response, the men pointed their guns at him. "No, please!" I pleaded. 

"Don't worry miss we ain't gonna shoot him." He explained, "As long as he doesn't fight, that is. Now get dressed." He said throwing me to the ground on top of our clothes pile. With shaky hands I did as I was told, grateful that they didn't have other plans for me. 

By the time I was dressed Cooper's eyes were open. He was seething, baring his teeth to the man in front of him. The man responded by grabbing my arm and spinning me around, so my back was against his chest as he cocked a gun against my forehead. "Your turn ghoul. Get dressed."

A retort died on the tip of Cooper's tongue as he saw the tears running down my face. He let out an angry grunt before quickly throwing his clothes back on. Before he could say a word, the man who hit him took a rope and tied it around his wrists. "You are coming with us." The man growled.

The man holding me didn't bother tying me up, instead opting to keep a tight hold on my bicep. It didn't take long to start hurting. I was definitely going to have a bruise. His companion walked next to Cooper, gun in hand ready to shoot him at a moment's notice. The walk was quiet, tension was thick in the air. We didn't know where they were taking us. "At least they seem to need us alive for now." I thought to myself, glancing back at Cooper.

"Eyes forward." The man hissed at me, shaking me slightly.

I did as I was told, not wanting to push my luck. After a couple of hours of walking, we found ourselves heading inside a neglected building. The inside was decorated like it was out of one of the movies Cooper had me watch at SuperDuperMart. The man holding Cooper pushed him through some swinging doors. 

"Well, shit." A man says as soon as Cooper enters the room.

Why, Sorrel Booker." He chuckled.

Hope swelled in my chest at the idea that they knew each other. That maybe we'd be lucky enough that he would let us go. Sorrel Booker was a bigger man, he was sitting comfortably at a table with a large piece of meat in front of him. We were obviously interrupting his meal. The two men threw us down into chairs at the table. 

"I heard it was a ghoul that fucked up that SuperDuperMart." Booker mused, "Nobody told me it was THE ghoul." He said before picking up his knife. "You know who you boys brought in?" He asked the two men behind us. "This sumbitch right here used to be the best bounty hunter to ever shoot a man in the ass. Kids these days don't know their goddamn history."

I looked down into my lap and fiddled with my hands. This man was so hard to read. I couldn't tell if he was friends with Cooper or not. When I looked back up Booker's eyes were on me.

"Who's your friend?" He asked Cooper.

Before Cooper could respond, one of the men piped up, "We found these two naked. Can ya believe it?" He said, a tone of revulsion in his voice. "Disgusting."

"Her name is Y/n." Cooper said, throwing a dirty look at the man behind him, "And she didn't do shit.”

"She's with ya. How innocent can she be?" Booker asked.

There was a moment of silence before Cooper asked, "Say you got a needle and thread?"

One of the men behind us scoffed, "Sorry, we don't do a lot of knittin' around here."

"It's called sewing," Cooper responded, unamused. "I think I got some in my bag."

Booker nodded toward one of his men who immediately complied with the order, pulling out a rag. I shot him a curious glance as the man unfolded the rag on the table, everyone giving Cooper a disgusted look as his finger rolled out. Cooper held up his wrists expectantly, silently asking to be unbound.

"Now come on now, Sorrel, we are old friends, ain't we?" Cooper said as he stared him down.

Booker took a moment before relenting, cutting Cooper loose. "Look at you. 200 years." My eyes opened wide in surprise, during our talks Cooper never mentioned he was 200 years old. "I don't know what keeps you goin'. Maybe you like the feelin' of that good old Californian sunshine on your wrinkly ass face. Or maybe this one isn't the first girl you've found willin' to fuck a ghoul." He finished.

Cooper glanced over at me as he started sewing his finger back on his hand before saying, "Nah, she's one of a kind."

"How sweet." The man behind me said sarcastically. 

"Or maybe," Booker continued. "You're still lookin' for her."

I stiffened at his statement. Was there someone else?

"Well Sorrel, I can confidently cross one reason off that list for ya. I sure as hell ain't still alive so I can have unintelligent conversations with dipshits like yourself." Cooper responded. Booker had obviously hit a nerve. 

One of the men immediately responded by hitting Cooper in the head again with his gun. "Watch your mouth. That's the president of the government you're talkin' to." He sneered.

Cooper slowly leaned back into his chair. He looked calm, but I could see the anger still simmering inside of him. "Ah. You a president now?" He asked Sorrel.

"Don't see why not," Sorrel responded confidently, taking another bite of his food.

"Well, you might want to hire a publicist because this is the first I'm hearin' about this outfit. Now, what I am hearin' is a whole lot of chatter about some woman. Name of Moldaver." Cooper replied.

"They call her the flame mother. Now that bitch is dangerous." Sorrel said with a serious look on his face. 

"Well, when it comes to leadership these days, dangerous is what they call a prerequisite," Cooper said smirking.

"Somebody's gotta step up and bring some order around here. You know why these boys brought you in?" Booker asked, puffing out his chest. 

"Cause I fucked up a poor, defenseless, gang-affiliated organ dealership?" Cooper mumbled, a look of disbelief on his face.

"Yup," Sorrel said with conviction. "Now I've always liked you-"

"Well, I've always liked you," Cooper interrupted with a smile on his face.

"Well, ain't that sweet. But that SuperDuperMart you two gutted was under our protection. So, if I wanted to let you go scot-free, folks might lose faith about what we are trying to do here. And then what?" Booker explained.

"Anarchy in the streets," Cooper answered.

"Exactly, so you got anything to say in your defense?" Sorrel asked.

"Guilty as charged." The ghoul responded confidently. I gave him a look of disbelief as he happily wiggled his finger. 

"Just like that?" Sorrel asked, surprised. 

"Just. Like. That." He smiled. "Now if you need any more evidence, I can tell you about this town I just shot up, Filly." 

"Cooper." I hissed angrily. Finally breaking my silence. 

He smiled at me, a glint of mischief in his eyes. "Oh, I must have killed nine or ten people." He continued, "She didn't do shit." He repeated. 

"My daddy lives in Filly." One of the men states, concern in his voice. 

"Well, not no more he don't. Unless he's a coward." Cooper said.

"Don't take the bait, son." Sorrel interrupted as the man cocked his gun at the ghoul.

"Oh, I ain't fishin'. I'm just trying to game this out. Now, in my experience, the apple tends not to fall too far from the tree. Is that true in your case?" Cooper asked.

"My daddy ain't no coward." The man was fuming as his gun stayed pointed at Cooper. 

"Well, then I guess the only question is..." Cooper smirked, "Are you?"

"Sherrif Rex. Take Sherrif Troy's gun away." Sorrel said, clearly unamused at the situation.

"Very presidential of ya." Cooper mused.

"Take him out back and feed him to the hogs," Booker said, done with Cooper's antics.

Sherrif Rex pulled Cooper to his feet, but before I could protest, Cooper headbutted Sherrif Troy before stealing Rex's gun. The next thing I knew both men were dead on the ground as he shot them repeatedly. 

"Goddamn it." Booker sighed.

"You really should teach your men how to treat a lady," Cooper explained. "They weren't very nice, were they darlin'?"

I gave him a small smile, "No Coop, they weren't."

He hummed as he stalked across the room. "I got one question for ya ol' buddy," Cooper said, turning his attention back to Sorrel. "Why... do you have this picture on your wall?" He asked, pulling down one of the wanted posters.

"That's Moldaver." Sorrel responded, a look of confusion on his face, "Why?"

Cooper's face betrayed him as shock washed over his face before he regained his composure. "It's just not how I remember her is all," Cooper mumbled. 

"Yea? Well, how do you remember her?" Sorrel asked.

Cooper stared silently at the poster for a while, lost in thought while Sorrel and I exchanged awkward glances. 

"Cooper?" I asked him, worry settling into my stomach. This seemed to catch his attention as he brought his eyes up to me. 

"Let's go, sugar." He said as he folded the paper before stuffing it in his bag. He reached his hand out to me, silently asking me to take it. 

I quickly grabbed his hand, eager to get out of this place. "What about him?" I ask.

"The president?" He asked, mocking Sorrel, "Leave him."

I held on to Cooper's hand tightly as he confidently strolled out of the building. Who was this woman? And what was she to Cooper?

Tag list: @bruhidkjustwannaread @msrawog @valdemarismynonbinarylove @whizbang-cap @topiramateagreeable @sitkafay @lightan117 @eykismyfav @ajeff855 @justme12200 @sihlaryn @raviolisenpai @ellabellabunny123 @impossessedbyjeongyeon @leviathanleva @v3lv3tf0x @fallout-girl219 @savanahc @booksbabes @gauky76 @green--beanie @fanfictiongirly23 @gobbodoggo @erissco @helveticabold @katgirl05 @tfamidoingwithmylife @miketastic25 @alex-does-art-things @iloved1lfs0

[friendlyneighborhoodamara]

Can't sleep so I'm gonna talk about Akane Tendo's reputation among fans. It's no secret I'm an Akane fan, and I'm glad that the fandom seems to be kinder to her today than in the past. In light of this, I'd like to address some of the common arguments people make or used to make against her.

For reference, a significant chunk of the humor in Ranma 1/2 involves Ranma, often intentionally, pissing Akane off, to the point that she hits him really, really hard. This is a pretty common comedic trope in shonen anime prior to like...I wanna say the 2010s? (I never watched Naruto since it looked bad but I am pretty sure that's Sakura and Naruto's dynamic.) Anyways, while I joined the fandom recently, I have learned that when the show came over to America in the early 90s, Akane was SUPER controversial for treating Ranma like this, with her critics calling her a violent domestic abuser and misandrist, and her reputation has only really recovered recently.

Now, if the "girl character beats up boy character in fit of rage" trope is something that isn't your taste in comedy, then it's not your taste in comedy. However, it's important to keep in mind qualifiers for Akane's behavior. Akane at the start of the series has been harassed by boys at her school who want to beat her up and force her to date them, leading to her having a justifiably poor perception of men and boys. Her hating boys and seeing the worst in them is very different from a man hating women due to patriarchal expectations, and even then she treats boys who are nice to her like Ryoga well.

Honestly, the only area where her dislike of boys gets kinda like morally problematic in my view is if you interpret Ranma as a trans girl: while I joked in an earlier post that Akane is a TERF, one could argue that, albeit unintentionally, Akane's negative reaction to seeing Ranma naked in her bathtub (even if accidentally) and then calling him/her a pervert plays on transphobic rhetoric against letting trans women use the women's restrooms like we're supposed to. (Humorously, most of the people mad at Akane seem to be, ah...not exactly fond of trans!Ranma headcanons, but I digress.) If other trans girls or our allies don't find the slapstick funny for that reason, fair enough, but I don't feel bothered by it given how most of the time Ranma gets hit it's for being legitimately rude and again the violence is very unrealistic.

Admittedly, if Ranma 1/2 had a more serious tone and grounded level of violence, Akane hitting Ranma would be abusive. But in the series, martial artists can walk off stuff like being crushed by a boulder, so Akane beating Ranma up by kicking him/her 50 feet into the sky because she thought he/she was trying to feel her up is not so much like domestic abuse and more akin to a wife giving her husband a light dope slap. Remember, much of the violence in this series is basically just that of a Tom and Jerry cartoon, albeit with an early Dragon Ball aesthetic. Furthermore, Ranma - as much as I love him/her as a character - is usually the instigator, with the wiki even having a list of the cruel nicknames he/she gives her, so it's not as if her actions are unwarranted:

There is, per some people, a gendered component to this discussion, that if the genders were flipped, this wouldn't be funny since Ranma doesn't hit Akane. Now, firstly, if you're a man and a 35-year-old anime not having a boy beat up a girl enough is your worst experience with "sexism", well...get over it. Secondly, in terms of wider media, men commit violence against women that is framed for laughs all the time (ex.: Miroku in Inuyasha, another Rumiko Takahashi series, is a male character where his running gag involves him groping women, which is a more realistic form of violence than anything Akane dishes out), so the notion that it's only women who hurt men in media for laughs is untrue. Thirdly, the notion that hitting Ranma is viewed as okay because "he's a boy" is dubious since he does canonically turn into a girl and Akane hits Ranma regardless of gende, and despite his claims to the contrary he/she doesn't really hate being a girl as much as he/she claims. As a concession, I will note that especially in the past some writers can be reluctant to show slapstick against women, but this is more due to internalized misogyny and viewing women as weak and needing protection. Personally, even assuming that Akane was a boy and Ranma was wholly a girl, I'd have no problem with the slapstick since it's clearly goofy and unrealistic.

Anyways, I'd like to conclude by saying (1) I am glad that I joined the fandom at a time when Akane is being perceived more and more fairly as a flawed but generally pretty nice and hilarious character who has a good deal of pathos despite the clearly slapstick-y nature of the series, and (2) thanks for reading this long, very sincere post.

[dykeulous]

1.) for the love of science, please, please stop using the theory of gendered socialization as some “gotcha” against all female people. stop trying to constitute that just because a person who happens to be female is only empathic because they’re female. stop making us all look bad, stop proving the dumbasses who say we’re trying to claim all women have some universal spiritual bond that connects them & that we’re using the theory to constitute & declare all women as inherently this and all men as inherently that, right. stop misunderstanding the theory. yes, socialization has impacts on how someone turns out as a person. yes, socialization does influence personality, and yes, the reason why women are more likely to be empathic is because of socialization, not because of some inherent biological magic; however, this doesn’t mean that having basic human decency & choosing not to be a piece of shit is somehow alien to male people. this doesn’t mean that women should throw away all their learned personality traits & tendencies. just because empathy is more forced & pushed onto women, doesn’t mean women need to get rid of that. instead, women should work on unlearning passiveness & unhealthy self-consciousness– female people should unlearn the process of female socialization that taught them to think low of themselves, that taught them to constantly feel like a burden, that taught them not to have any boundaries & to stay quiet and meek– empathy & human decency are not something to be thrown away. those are valuable & natural human traits.

2.) the trans movement is not inherently anti-feminist. the commodification, commercialization, and pinkwashing of it is. if we look very closely, trans people a lot of the time agree with the core elements of radical feminism; they just phrase their beliefs differently. there are gaps within ideologies, and both sides can be obtuse as fuck. both sides can be annoying & unwilling to learn. both sides can do legitimate harm in the real world. both sides need to learn from each other & stop vilifying & caricaturing the other as some pesty inherent danger that should be hidden from the rest of the world. gender critical women and trans rights activists need not always be “at odds”. we can, and we will, bridge the gap; no matter how many times annoying people like you fly around our ears like & whine. buzz all you want. there are people out there working on bridging the gap & are efficiently doing so. if you want to lock yourself up in an echo-chamber while also insisting trans people are doing that very same thing, then well done. have your hypocrisy cake and eat it 🤷🏻. me personally, i’ll keep having meaningful discussions with people who don’t necessarily share the same worldview as i do. nevertheless, radical feminism does wonders for trans people, and there are so many radical feminists out there insistent on proving that. if you’re going to sit back and whine about “men in dresses”, “those disgusting tranzes invading women’s spaces” and “moid xys fetishizing women”, while not doing anything whatsoever to improve the conditions of your local women– then don’t bother calling yourself a feminist of any sorts, yet alone a radical feminist. gncphobia does not look good on a person claiming to be pro-feminist. seriously.

3.) “no one is arguing that we should make trans-identified people’s lives worse” this is just, like, blatantly untrue. bans & limits on self-expression, bodily automony & self-determination, do in fact, harm trans people, a deeply vulnerable & targeted group in many societies. the same societies that tend to be extremely intolerant of trans people are also extremely intolerant of women. this is not a coincidence. it’s not a coincidence that the worst misogynists are also very often transphobic. it’s not a coincidence that conservatives, the people working to tangibly oppress trans people, are also anti-abortion, anti-divorce, pro-nuclear family, and anti-lgb. it’s almost like, hey– trans people are oppressed on the gender axis! and if you’re going to say that you said this in regards to radfems; you’d also be wrong. i will agree that tras often unrealistically portray radfems as fashies capable of systemically oppressing trans people, and that they very often create conspiracy theories on how “terfs are running the world” & “terfs control the governments”, exaggerating the “power” radfems may have– but this does not mean that there are no transphobic radfems. i’ve seen many deny dysphoria being a thing, many are unnecessarily & inhumanely cruel to dysphoric people & constantly try to purposely trigger someone’s dysphoria, many are exceptionally cruel to trans men (which is funny because they like to claim we are their “lost sisters” or whatever), many straight up mock surgeries & call people “mutilated” which extends to the hatred & bigotry against detrans folk. you cannot complain how trans people refuse to excommunicate genuinely awful people in their community if you yourself are going to ignore the genuinely awful people in your own community. you just cannot.

4.) “we are pro gender abolition and they are pro gender”– i mean, making a wild claim like this just proves you’ve locked yourself up in an echo-chamber. you sound exactly💯 how those tras who portray radfems as The Incarnation of Devil Himself sound like. you believe you know everything about a group & the group’s beliefs without conversating with anyone from said group. that’s exactly how many tras behave, making up wild claims & false caricatures of radfem beliefs, exaggerating them up to the point of nonsense. like, i’m sorry– but i’ll call bullshit on the “they are pro gender” stuff. i just cannot bring myself to believe that a group uniquely oppressed by gender is capable of meaningfully supporting the existence of it. sure, there are trans people who will vocally say they are against the abolition of gender because they personally feel it helps them because want to assimilate/it helps them express & understand themselves or whatever– but this doesn’t erase the reality of gender inherently repressing & oppressing trans individuals. certain, individual trans people can do & say wacky shit, they can hold horrible and stupid beliefs– but this does not reflect the universal reality of trans existence. trans people deviate from the gender binary. trans people do not fit into the system of gender, and as such, they can only benefit from the abolition of gender. gender hurts us in a very specific way, and we are going against the very existence of it, just by existing. this isn’t to say some trans people aren’t genuinely dumb & misogynistic/bio-essentialist/neurosexist/assimilationist/homophobic/awful/whatever– i’m simply saying that we as a group do not fit into the gender system– obviously, we still have to prove that we truly are against it, but we defy traditionalist way of thought merely by existing. of course, we still have to do actual work to be considered activists, and we aren’t immediately some punk blood-pumping political figures simply on the basis of not fitting in.

5.) any person who sends rape & death threats to anyone is despicable. the phenomenon of this specifically happening to radfems is real, but we cannot base our moral beliefs & opinions on an entire group off of this. oftentimes, it’s not even actual trans people sending the threats, it’s cis people [particularly cis men to be clear] who want to speak over us. calling out homophobia & misogyny in the trans community is a worthy endeavor & definitely, desperately needs to be done. being hateful and assuming all trans people are this disgusting caricature in your head, is not. again, we will bridge the gap, and there’s nothing you can do about it. activists of all kinds will come together & reshape the world from the roots of it. they will pull out all the toxicity & take down all the oppressive structures & institutions, stomp on them violently & mercilessly– they will rebuild the world from its’ roots, all over again.

[inqilabi]

Another thing that I have observed over the years is that, not a lot of people are good at relationships. As in they don't know the fundamentals of a good relationship. And with that it follows, that for some people this comes naturally. And for some people this is learned.

A lot of people don't seem to be good at communicating in relationships. Meaning that they will let a thing that bothered them fester until it grows into resentment. And they bring it up once the resentment is bubbling. And obviously, because it's pent up, when do they do bring it up, it's in an explosive manner.

So everyone at some point learns that relationships are about communication. And they tell you this wisdom. But no one actually gives you the details and the formula

Communication is about

1) frequency. So don't let this fester. Bring it up right away

2) type of communication. So positive and the negative. Ie., things that are working but also not working. The positive communication will be, "oh I loved [action], because [what it made you feel]. You are so [the unique attribute about your partner that led to this behaviour]". This is what is going to build connection regularly. Regularly appreciating your partner. And not just in a generic manner. But in an instance specific manner.

Or in the negative "when the [situation/issue], it makes me [feeling], and if this continues to happen i will [feel/consequences]". It doesn't attack the partner and views them an opportunity to rise to meet your needs. And focuses instead on the situation / issue and the effect on you. This is what will maintain the relationship. Prevent it from going down.

3) manner of communication. You should never say "you always do this" "you never do this". That is not an productive way of conveying concern to your partner. That is just attacking them as mentioned in point #2. The person who is being addressed also should listen and not get defensive or criticism. If one person has legitimately brought up a concern, and the other person says "no i don't do that " or "it's not that big of a deal" or "well you did this [unrelated other thing so long ago]", this is a cause for concern. Men often do the latter and imo it's a red flag. A man should be able to listen to your concerns and not feel attacked if you have brought it up in a gentle let's tag-team this issue manner. If a man does get defensive or start criticizing you instead, he has an ego or insecurity problem. Thats one of the things that will chip away at a relationship. Is defensiveness and criticism.

There's other things that maintain relationships like taking interest in your partners interest, when they ask you to look at something or share something with you - then you should take interest. There's many people who might ignore it or outright dismiss it (chips away) or some might simply acknowledge it (maintains), where are some might take an interest and ask you questions on the thing youve shared. Ask you where you learned about it. What you found interesting about it. How it made you feel etc (builds relationships).

Some years ago I wrote a post, which I can't find now. But I found it so surprising in couples that I had observed that a man would so often dismiss his partners attempt to connect. I remember the instance I noticed this - I was at a desi Eid bazaar. And a woman came to her husband who was sitting with their child, giddily told him that she had haggled the price of a cloth down by 20 dollars. And instead of being proud of her and appreciating her, he said something along the lines of "you could have gotten it for 30 off". And I saw the joy disappear from her face. And he chipped away willingly. So bewildering to me that you have an opportunity to connect and build, so easily handed to you - and in so many couples, they reject it. It's like someone offering you a couple of dollars for free in a long-term investment, and you're like - nah thanks I'm good. Maddening!

[jammofsammichflip]

aroace sukuna aroace sukuna aroace sukuna aroace sukuna aroace sukuna aroace sukuna aroace sukuna aroace sukuna Guys this is the culmination of a bunch of headcanons running amuck in my brain and also the character analysis' from @thepersonperson (give them some love for their big, juicy, brain <333)

So now, here are my hc's for AroAce!Sukuna:

Legitimately prefers to not be touched and appreciates respect for personal space (round of applause for Uraume*)

Hobbies,:

1. Fighting - self explanatory: he hates being bored, he also uses fighting as a way to bond and learn about others

2. Eating - confirmed in the official fanbook(iirc): it doesn't matter if it's people or Oreos, he enjoys food

3. Analysing literature/opponents fighting habits - It's explained better and in more detail by @thepersonperson, but the main take-away is that Sukuna is like a shark; using exploratory 'bites' in order to gain knowledge about things- his opponents. He uses used dismantle to take apart, to dissect his opponents, to learn how they'll react and if they can match his freak, so to speak.

3.5. Going back to the literature point - seeing as in history, the Heian era is considered the peak of the Japanese imperial court, it's noted for it's refinement in art, poetry and literature.

He gets annoyed, disgusted, bored, and all of the above when someone hits on him, seeks him out romantically or tries to use/touch him physically.

See: Yorozu when she's withing a 1 mile radius of Sukuna, Mahito after touching his soul, Kenjaku's weird obsession with him that led to him jumping his twins bones for some reason

Again, as dutifully (<3) explained by the aforementioned Tumblr User, Sukuna expressed affection through violence. This is the only way he is able to connect with anyone he seems worth his time to fight.

Being a curse that is legitimately perfect when it comes to CE and CTs, he reaches out from the top to grasp some sort of worthy interaction:

an entire half year of prep to fight Gojo,

'playing' with Jogo and making an effort to fight with him on his terms,

finding interest and potential in Megumi,

a yap fest of unwarranted appraisal to Maki

and he was basically all grins and smiles when he fought each of these sorcerers.

*Star next to Uraume because I hc that they're Ace-spec as well.

Cuz who else is better at telling people you don't want to be bothered, touched or talked to other than you fanatic worshipper who understands your boundaries clear and concisely?

Tirade over, I'm going to sleep.

[hexhomos]

S2 mega spoiler asks/answers. don't click readmore if you're avoiding it.

That entire thing really did not land for me and took me extremely out of the episode ngl. The way it is framed and later on referenced on warwick's delusion flashbacks (IN MY OPINION) seemed to suggest that their mom was embroiled in an unrequited love triangle with these two and i could feel my brain leaking out of my ears because, to get back to a previously mentioned problem; it makes the world feel really, really limited. Like there's 10 real people surrounded by a population of NPCs. The idea of silco/vander as singlehandedly responsible for a 'revolution' that has no lineage beyond themselves is already laughable but?? they frame it as if vander could legit have been vi's dad?? he picks the name?? and that he is maybe seething in rage at silco because he was the reason she died??? huh? whuh? what in all of the wattpad fanfiction. not to mention... it makes silco constant attempts to kill vi in s1 seem contradictory and nonsensical. His motivations???????????

In some ways.. it is still resource exploitation now but Worse and in a time-ticking bomb sort of way that absolutely breaks the idea of Piltover using hextech for decades at a time. Im curious to see if that will be referenced in game content now bc it legitimately has shattered the timeline. I think its once again unnecessary and sacrifices a lot of good stuff for mid hand-wringing. But yeah. P/Z as presented in arcane has had so much personality sapped out of it. a whole roster of characters who might get completely rebooted for no good reason.

stole his whole flow. Disgraceful.

TBH i wouldn't really worry about this because i think if anyone is getting a new sex scene its going to be cait/vi makeup or hatesex. Sky is a plot convenience; her existence for the show's entire runtime is an accessory that they couldn't even bother fleshing out. The definition of the not-gays.

My reasoning is that if they were going to do any of that we would have already seen her do these things, more things, in the scenes she already appears in; but as always she is a static 3D model lounging in the background. (Related: this might be because she is Literally Not Real and the hexcore is just making up a faint mimicry who can only say 1 word.) Their time budget is really messy this season and i just don't see them wasting More time like that. They don't care for sky. never did! She's just a way to avoid letting viktor be an ideologue glorious evolutionist.

We already know internally some of the animators & art team like jayvik & there's even a few for-fun outside of the company interviews w/ crew expressing a preference to jv on a personal level ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ the more the script tries to push it as nonromantic the more coded these scenes get. In terms of actual interaction i think a lot is going to depend on whatever the hell happens in episode 6 because their screentime is REALLY low and im unsure act3 can pull off another timeskip. So much left dangling.

IDGAF about meljay and i've never cared about meljay i think it is the culpirit of not-gays #1 so its hilarious how that shit literally didn't matter. The entire noxus storyline is a can of worms i would have thrown in the garbage and have no interest in. Still, in realistic terms, there is a 50/50 chance this season ends with jayce married 2 kids 1 dog 1/2 parrot moving out to noxus and saying 'heh, i never liked piltover anyway' and they'll play it like we're supposed to clap because nothing matters

if i was in charge we'd get full frontal jayvik stigmata scissoring write that down. I still hope if we can manifest 1 thing it is a good fight scene with some choking on it

[spiribia]

the guy who hit on me at pride was an older man who gave me his number and said “I remember you, you were studying at the library the other day. Can I just say, You are the most beautiful Asian woman I’ve seen. You know what your best feature is, your legs, you have amazing legs. You know who you look like? Jennifer Lopez.” This was like the most elegantly crafted narrative design paragraph you would write to make everyone hate a character. 1) he thought I was a student 2) he couldn’t tell Asian people apart 3) he was weird about Asian people 4) he implied he had already bothered that other girl who was legitimately a student. also when I told him the event was pride he said “like the gay people?” And made a face and just started speed walking away instantly, which was kind of funny at least

[targaryenrealnessdarling]

No Pain, No Gain | Part 3 |PersonalTrainer!Aemond x fem! reader

A/N: you guys are absolutely feral for this and I love it, thank you legitimately for all the love. Once again 😘 @ewanmitchellcrumbs ​, hope you luv uwu

Series Masterlist

warnings:  EVENTUAL SMUT, 18+, sexual tension, binge eating, mentions of breakup, cursing, dickhead Aemond, reader is horny af, English slang (soz), warnings will be added when needed

When Baela messaged you with this screenshot.

   You thought, hell fucking yes.

 What better way to take your mind off thinking about your personal trainer’s dick, undo about an hour’s worth of cardio and feel like shit afterwards?

 2 for 1 cocktails.

 Storm’s End was pretty popular so Baela, being the legend she is, booked for four of you to go. Baela, her twin, Rhaena, you and a mutual friend from university, Maris Baratheon. Her Uncle owned the pub/club so she used her connections to get a further 50% off on friends and family discounts.

 God it was going to be a long night.

 After getting ready in the living room, Rhaena absolutely hogging the Spotify playlist, all three of you buzzed on a glass of Prosecco hobble to Storm’s End.

 “Rhaena, take those stupid shoes off” you nudge her shoulder a bit, which takes her off balance. She’s wearing heels that are far too big and far too high for her. Tottling around like a newborn giraffe.

 She yelps a bit but glares at you, “At least I’m taller than you now, short-ass”

 Hand on heart, you feign offense, “Who put 50p in you?”

 Baela nudges you from your other shoulder, “Children, stop it”

 Maris pipes up from behind, playfully squeezing your butt, “Where did you get this from?”

 “Ow! Maris!”

 Rhaena laughs, “Our creepy cousin is giving her personal training”

 “Hey, you” Baela glares at her twin, “He’s not ‘creepy’, just misunderstood. And be nice, his dad just died!”

 “Oh yeah cos everyone loved Viserys” Rhaena mused.

 You give an awkward look to Maris as you enter Storm’s End, giving a name as they lead you to a booked table.

 “He didn’t seem that bothered about it” you shrug as you huff off your coat.

 Maris, sat next to you in the booth, hangs her jaw open, “Fuck you, look at these!” she says squeezing your biceps, “I’m jealous I don’t get to see you in the bikini”

 Rhaena snorts, “Maris, your bisexual is showing”

 “Sorry, sorry”

 You must admit that when you were getting ready to go out with the girls tonight, you’d made the effort. The black cocktail dress hanging in the back of your wardrobe, that probably hasn’t been touched since the graduation party a few years ago, looked tempting. So imagine your surprise to find that it still fit, snug in all the right places. It wasn’t quite warm enough to go out in just that, so you pulled a coat over it. Even here, in the darkened part of Storm’s End, a sort of anxiety prickled at you at how low cut it was. You were usually not so brave.

 It had been a while since Maris came to visit all of you, so the drinks came easily. And effectively being as cheap as water, it was easy to put all the cocktails away. One particular cocktail had you constantly sneezing from the ginger in it, but you were nicely drunk now, engaged in conversation.

 Maris was swooning over a girl she’d met on a night out.

 “You know when you see a woman and you’re just like ‘yes’ she is perfect” Maris swoons, slurring her words.

 Almost in unison you all say, “No”

 “Maris, we are hetero beyond hetero” you laugh, sipping the cocktail and leaning against Baela on your other side. She leans in as well, partially, if not more drunk than you right now.

 “Okay fine, I’m not having this conversation with you virgins”

 “Whoa whoa whoa! Who said virgin?” Rhaena furrows her brows, angry and you genuinely have to hold back a laugh with how loud she’s being as several people turn around, hearing what she’s said.

 “Rhaena, I am willing to bet yours has grown back it’s been so long”

 “Nuh-uh” you point to yourself, head wavy from all the drinks, “that’s me~”

 Maris orders more, “Didn’t you and what’s-his-face break up like two months ago?”

 “Yesss, but we didn’t have sex for ages before that. So if anything it’s me who’s the sad little virgin of the group” you say, polishing off your cocktail to go in for another.

 Baela snorts, “At least until she gets a mouthful of Aemond”

 You almost spit out your drink, glaring at Baela. The alcohol has made you more…morally loose, yes. But you didn’t expect Baela to say that.

 “What the fuck Baela!”

 “Oh come on, she’s been cracking out the vibrator everytime I even say his name”

 Maris sees your bright red face, “Don’t” you warn.

 “Oh my god, as if you have a thing for creepy Aemond?!”

 You raise your eyebrows, “Okay, describe him”

 “Tall, lanky, skinny…I guess?”

 Stalking time.

 You raise a finger, putting your cocktail down to get your phone. You quickly bring up his instagram and show her the one photo where his whole body is in shot.

 Pretty much as soon as the screen lights her face, her jaw drops.

 “Oh my god”

 “Can you two please stop thirsting over our cousin, please” Rhaena rolls her eyes,

 Maris zooms in, “Hold on, I want to see what all the fuss is about”

 She zooms in, really taking him in and the both of you fawn over the photo for a bit too long. Describing everything. His legs, arms that poke out of the shirt he’s wearing with veins. Ugh. His neck, his chest, his shoulders. How tall and broad he is. Just everything.

 “Would you not let that man destroy you?” you ask Maris, snatching your phone out her hand,

In your drunken haze, you freeze as your finger slips and double-taps the screen, liking the photo.

 “Oh shit”

 Rhaena raises her eyebrows, “what”

 “I just fucking liked the photo” you drop the phone and put your head in your hands, vision spinning from the alcohol as well as the embarrassment.

 The girls erupt in laughter, which isn’t helping.

 You find the courage to look and see that the photo is a good ten or so months old. And the little dot next to his profile shows he’s suddenly active. He’s definitely noticed.

 Fuckfuckfuck.

 “Hey, you never know, it might be a good ‘in’ to get him to bang you”  Maris chimes.

 You’ve never felt more embarrassed in your life. And yet, you can’t help your mind wander at the possibility of it.

 Would he?

 He was pretty handsy last time.

 But he’s a personal trainer, surely it’s wrong for you to pay him and bang him when he’s on the job.

 No you can’t.

 You can’t imagine…him bare chested pressed against you, hot, sticky and sweaty from the efforts, broad shoulders closing you into the mattress, large hands splayed across your waist, teeth biting at your neck, prying your thighs apart, rutting into yo-

 “Hello! Earth to y/n!”

 Fuck, you’ve got to stop doing this.

 “Do us all a favour and fuck him” Maris muses, “You’re like in heat or something”

 Despite the embarrassment of it all, the night continues on and Baela is far too drunk to carry on. So being the good friend you were and mother of the group, you pull her hand around your shoulder and escort her home. She’s wobbly at best and seems to laugh at the smallest thing, and even though you’re drunk as well, the situation earlier sobered you up considerably.

 “I have a headahceee….” Baela moans.

 “I heard you the first three times you said it”

 “Can we get some painkillers, we don’t have any hic back at the flat..”

 With an annoyed groan you drag her into the nearest corner shop, it’s close-ish to home, so hopefully she swallows the painkillers, shuts the fuck up and you can tuck her in on the sofa.

 She waits at the entrance while you pay, talking absent-mindedly to a stranger.

 “Baela, don’t talk to strangers please” you say as you shove the box of painkillers in her hand. The man she’s talking to smirks amused at the situation.

 “This isn’t a stranger, it’s my other cousin!” she says, her drunkenness making her far too loud.

 “Oh yeah?” you crack open the bottle of water you bought, taking a swig before passing to Baela, “Is that true?” you ask the other man.

 It could be true. He’s got platinum hair, a smile that spells trouble and that weird cockiness all Targaryen men seem to have. He gives you a bit of a wink, shoving his hands into his pockets.

 “Unfortunately, yes. Aegon” he extends his hand and you tentatively shake it, still a bit weary. He looks at you like he already knows you, it’s very weird.

 “Yeah that sound like a Targaryen name”

 “He’s Aemond’s older brother” Baela says while taking a sip of water, accidentally letting it fall over her face and down her neck,

 “Unfortunately, also yes” Aegon smirks, “She looks a bit worse for wear”

 “We can thank Storm’s End 2 for 1 cocktails for that, can’t we Bae?” you smile, hooking an arm around her waist to steady her, she just grunts in response, “what are you doing here anyway?” you ask Aegon as he’s now found some interest in walking alongside you both.

 He shrugs, “Just came out to get a few bits, do you guys want a lift home? Aemond’s parked around the corner”

 “Yeah actu-” your mind works before your mouth does and your face pales a bit, embarrassment working its way into your belly.

 Baela has that stupid fucking smirk on her face again, wide and giddy like a child, “Yes please! Y/n, this is your chance to get Aemond to ram-”

 “Enough of that” you warn sternly, slapping a hand over mouth, but Aegon gives an amused grin, seemingly catching onto the subject of the conversation, “We’re fine getting home thanks”

 “Don’t be stubborn, come on” Aegon says, helping Baela down the road.

 A gnawing embarrassment curls in your gut. The last thing you want is to see him. And this is reinforced when you round the corner and Aemond is in the driver’s seat, looking up when he sees three figures. His eyes dart between Aegon and Baela for a moment before landing firmly on you, shamelessly looking down and then back up again.

 You take a deep breath. Don’t look at him. Don’t look at him.

 Try as you might, you make for the back seat, but with a shit-eating grin, Aegon makes it there first, under the guise of helping Baela in the backseat and making sure she’s okay. And you want lightning to strike him down right now with how fucking smug he looks.

 A family trait, you see.

 With an annoyed huff and without looking at the smug blonde in the driver’s seat, you get in the passenger seat, quickly pulling the seatbelt around you. Aemond doesn’t say anything either, one hand on the steering wheel and the other on his thigh.

 Oh God, his thighs.

 Stopstopstop.

 You can almost see in your peripheral the way he’s smirking to himself, thinking it’s all very amusing.

 “Aem!” Baela shrieks drunkenly from the backseat, luckily cutting the already existing tension, “Where did you come from?”

 Aem chuckles lowly and it might be the first proper time you’ve heard him laugh, he turns to his cousin in the back seat, “I could ask you the same thing”

 “I found them in the shop, what was it, Storm’s End 2 for 1 cocktails?” Aegon laughs.

 Aemond huffs a laugh in response, raising an eyebrow in your direction, “Training going well then?”

 You only have to turn your head a little to face him and when you do, you regret it immediately. In the proximity of the car, with you in the front seat, it’s achingly close. You try to muster up an indifferent look.

 “Don’t live in the gym like you do”

 He smirks, poking his cheek with his tongue, and turns back to the road, putting the car in gear to drive off. And now his gaze is averted, you briefly let your eyes go over him. It was only fair, he did the same to you. And you turn away quickly with a sigh when you see he’s wearing fucking dark grey sweatpants. All those thoughts return at breakneck speed, the sinful, lustful ones you only think of when you’re alone with your vibrator and it makes you squeeze your thighs together harshly, and you swear you see a flicker of Aemond’s head move in your direction when you do it. Not that he shows it on his face.

 Aegon’s playlist is in full swing and it’s not a long car journey, but it certainly fucking feels like it.

 You’re just thankful that Baela is quietly drunk in the backseat, half asleep, so she can’t say anything incriminating about the desires you’d divulged in female confidence.

 “Stop the car” Baela says hurriedly, undoing her seatbelt.

 Aemond brakes, looking back at her in the rearview mirror.

 “Oh shit” Aegon curses as Baela gets out the car like a bat out of hell to run behind the closest tree, halfway across the park. Aegon follows with the bottle of water you’d bought her.

 In any other situation, you’d be glad to have a borderline sick and vomiting Baela out of the car. But right now, left alone with Aemond after the sheer stupidity of the night so far, you want her to come back as soon as possible.

 Aemond sighs, at least glad Baela had the decency to get out of the car before being sick. He reaches for the gearstick to move the car out of the way of the middle of the road. And the smug bastard completely misses and his large hand makes contact with your knee instead. You can do nothing but gasp when he does it.

 “Sorry” he murmurs without moving his hand.

 When you look at him, he stays eerily still, his eyes flitting across your face to take in the dazed, stunned and impassioned look on your face. Your mouth seems to go dry, brain made of cotton, desperately trying to come up with something to say, but failing.

 Aemond withdraws his hand back to the gearstick, but not before giving the flesh above your knee a firm squeeze, burning his touch into them, leaving behind prickling heat on your skin. Seeing that you’ve been caught staring at him for too long, you flick back, pushing your legs together impossibly tighter.

 He seems to delight in the reaction.

 “Have fun on instagram earlier?”

 Oh fuck my life.

 You turn to him, embarrassed, but his eyes are on the road just as Aegon and Baela get back in the car with a few rough and tumbles. You hate how easy it is for him to get a rise out of you like this, so you turn away and just watch the night life go by as Aemond drives the 5 minute route back to your flat.

 Almost as soon as he pulls up, Aegon’s helping Baela out and you follow, just about to shut the passenger side door when-

 “See you at our session tomorrow” Aemond muses smugly. His eyes glimmering with mischief.

 Not knowing what to say and far too horny to even form a thought, you take Baela back into your arms and make for the flat, but not before looking over your shoulder to see Aemond’s dark gaze over the steering wheel.

 Once in the flat, Baela collapses on the sofa, murmuring incoherently. Like a good mother, you put a glass of water and painkillers on the side table, pulling the blanket over her.

“Did you get railed?...” Baela groans, to which you bite your lip.

“No Baela”

 With a disappointed groan, she turns and almost instantly falls asleep, aided by the dizzying effect of the alcohol creeping in. You smile at her, she’s always been like this when she’s drunk. Always the wingman. Or wingwoman, you supposed.

 Halfway through taking off your makeup, your phone pings with a notification.

Absolute.

Bastard.

You wake up the next day shockingly kind of okay. Baela on the other hand is milking this for all it’s worth. Being a Saturday, you supposed she’s allowed some time to recover.

 But when you use the blender to make a smoothie, she groans, “Are you doing this on purpose...” she groans, with a wet cloth on her forehead.

 Forcing the urge to laugh at her away, “Sorry hun”

 She lifts the cloth to glare at you, “Why are you in gym gear, it’s Saturday”

 Your mind races a bit, a blush making its way up your neck and a familiar heat pooling in your stomach.

 “Last session today before the holiday” you say, leaning against the counter to sip the smoothie, “only day free was Saturday”

 Baela pulls a face, as if amused.

 “What”

“Nothing”

 You scoff, “Fuck you, I told you all that under the influence, it doesn’t count”

 “Oh yes it does~”

 She goes on and on and on it feels like, about how badly you said you wanted Aemond to destroy you last night. She seemingly doesn’t remember the finer details about how you got home. You wished you could forget. You can still feel the way his hand gripped your leg so tightly, the bare skin prickling up.

 Ping.

The dreaded ring of a notification. And it’s like he can fucking sense when people are talking about him.

   Dramatically, you flop on the sofa, showing Baela the text.

 “I don’t know how many more signs you need” she reaches for her go to hangover cure, the biggest bar of chocolate you’ve ever seen and a diet pepsi, “I don’t want to hear anything about it, if you do though because that’s gross. Tell Maris or something”

 “Nothing is going to happen”

 “Uh huh, whatever you say hoe”

 With even Baela’s belief in you dwindling by the second, with a heaving sigh you manage to plop into your car, prop your phone on the mount for directions to the address Aemond sent you and drive. Something curls in your gut all the way there. Nerves? Excitement? Nausea? Was it the Indian food…

 You know the answer already but it doesn’t make it any better.

 The car that picked you up with Baela the previous day is parked on a driveway, a black Mercedes.

 Twat.

 With a breath to stable yourself, you trudge with your gym bag to the front door. The front garden is curiously and meticulously tidy, grass mowed and in general looked beautiful. A stark contrast, you think, to the guy inside. For a moment, you honestly think why the hell you’re here. Or maybe it’s just scary how easy it was for you to just…go with it and come to his house.

 He appears in the doorway mere seconds after you press the doorbell, making you think he had seen your car pull up, but this notion is quickly dashed when you see him. He leans against the doorframe on his forearm, having to look down at you with a bottle of something in one hand.

 “Didn’t get lost then” he says with a smug smile. The embarrassment and those thoughts that were loud the night before come back at breakneck speed, making the heat flood your cheeks uncontrollably. You just hope that he doesn’t see it, but by the amused look on his face, he totally does.

 You roll your eyes a bit and his smile seems to drop for a second. He removes his arm from the doorframe, your eyes drag over what he’s wearing briefly. It’s not the black shirt he usually has on, but a grey one with patches of dark  at the neckline and middle, you surmise he’s probably already been working out before you got here. The image of his taut stomach sticking to his grey shirt will forever be seared into your memory.

 Walking through his home is like walking through a show-home, as in, it doesn’t look like it’s been lived in. It’s weirdly pristine, smells like air freshener and detergent. And as you follow him to the back of the house, where you assume the home gym is, you can’t help but stare at the dark grey patch in the middle of his back and the way his shoulders move when he takes a drink.

 There’s some stairs that lead down and you quirk a brow, “a basement gym?”

 He stops at the stairs, looking up, his eyes somewhere else before he meets yours. His hair is up in a bun again, like the first time, with stray pieces falling out, “Yes?”

 “How very serial killer of you” you muse, following him down the stairs, “Should I share my location with someone”

 He huffs a laugh, opening the door and leading you inside with the smallest of touches to the small of your back, “Unless you want to”

 Even the borderline ghostly touch against the small of your back through your coat is enough to make your brain feel like it’s mush.

 What if he’d ventured down, using his large hand to squeeze your flesh between his fingers? Moulding the skin to shape of his palms?

 “Drink?” he asks, strangely more chirpy.

 Pulling off your coat you reply, “No, got my water, thanks”, you try and make your voice as stable as possible.

 His home gym is actually quite big, lit by several spotlights since there’s no natural light. It hasn’t got any machines, but several weights and sit up benches, perhaps he brings some clients here sometimes? Your body shudders inconsolably at the thought of being laid on the sit up benches, flat with him looming over.

 He’s filling up his own water bottle from the cooler in the corner, back to you, “So what were you doing on instagram?” he asks, and you think you can hear the smile on his face.

 Taking advantage of him not looking your way, you adjust your sports bra. It’s a different set this time, since the other is in the wash, a dark rusty orange two-piece. He turns just as you’re pulling your hair up into a bun, eyes hooded and trained on you before briefly flitting across the new outfit.

 “Stalking your creepy profile” you answer, disinterested.

 He raises an eyebrow, “Creepy?”

 “That’s what Rhaena said”

 “Ah” he responds, “she would”

 “Why’s that?”

 He motions loosely to his eye that you supposed he was blind in, “Freaks people out”

 You furrow your brows, “Why would it freak people out?”. You ask it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world and he’s quiet for a moment, tapping his fingers against his water bottle in thought.

 “Does it not freak you out?”

 You shake your head softly, “No”

 He doesn’t take his eyes off you when he takes a sip of water and it makes your thighs feel somewhat like jelly.

 “Right, stretches”

 Oh boy.

 It’s almost as bad as the first time you’ve done them together, except he’s extra handsy, smirking with the knowledge that you were talking about him in your spare time. This time, when you’re doing the 60 second planks on the mat, his hand stays there on your back, moving every now and then slowly between your shoulders, to the nape of your neck. And there’s no mirror in his home gym, so you’re only hoping and praying that he’s not taking this opportunity to look at you in the skin tight leggings too closely.

 Although secretly, you kind of hope he is.

 “That’s it...” he praises lowly, and it takes you so off guard that you think you might just crack. But you resort to just biting your lip, trapping the skin between your teeth painfully.

 Squats are genuinely no better. He stays behind you the entire time, achingly close with his hands on his hips and everytime you go down to do one, you can’t help the desperate thrum of anticipation in your belly as you make contact only very slightly with his leg.

 Once you’re done with stretching and core, with the lack of windows in the room you’re in, it’s very hot and you wipe your forehead a little, slightly out of breath as you take a sip of water. Feeling as if you are being watched you turn your head slightly and see him sat on the sit-up bench watching you intensely.

 “Shit” you curse as some water leaks out of the bottle onto your chest and right down your sports bra. You try and wipe it away quickly, your chest already glistening with sweat. But when you look up, you see his eyes quickly flit from there to your eyes, darkened. One of his thighs jitters as he bounces his leg, as if aggravated.

 “Sorry” you breathe, grounding yourself, “what next” you ask, desperately trying to lighten the tension.

 “Bench press” he responds, and there’s that same tone he used last time. The tone that he used after literally scaring your ex away. But you swallow thickly and nod and sit where he once was.

 He explains how to do it and you take it all in a bit until you realise he’s going to be standing right behind you and your cheeks flood with heat again, tingling down the back of your neck. He just stands there as he usually does, but from this angle (and it’s very difficult to not look at this point) your head is right at his waistline and had there not been 30kg combined in your arms right now, you probably would have given more of a reaction to it.

 But you do your reps, with him watching in silence, seeing you break a sweat. As far as you are aware, his eyes forever on your form, but really it’s zoned in on that shadow that disappears down your sports bra and at the exposed bit of midriff beneath that to your leggings.

 As you’re doing the last few, he rounds the side and places his hand flat on your ribs, right under your sports bra’s hem and you freeze, an involuntary gasp escapes.

 When you meet eyes, he’s already regarding you.

 “Relax”

 Licking your lips nervously, you nod and breathe in and out deeply. But he never takes his hand off you, almost making sure you’re doing what he says.

 The next few reps are probably the most difficult. Never being able to stop thinking about his fingers on your bare skin, his thumbs drawing very very small circles on the hot flesh there. The air feels charged, as if one wrong move could ignite something, like striking a flame near gas.

 He moves his hand lower to your abdomen, making you freeze and look at him again. There’s no smug smile on his face, just a hooded, promiscuous expression, one that makes a deep, blurry thrum right where his hand is.

 “Push here”

 You try and do as he says for the last few, but it’s hard with the way he’s staring at you. And when you let out a huff and put the weights back where they belong on the rack, he nods slightly.

 “Good girl”

 He sees the way your face flushes this time, but makes no comment on it. Instead he rights himself to stand, extending his toned arm to you to help you up, not breaking the intensity of his look.

 It really does happen too quickly to know who did it. All you remember is taking his hand to pull yourself up. The next. Both his hands are around your waist, nearly encompassing them with how big they are, and the way they slide against your glistening skin rouses you in places you didn’t even know existed.

 There’s not even time to say anything when he locks his lips with yours, pushing you harshly against the wall with a thud that makes you gasp into his hot mouth. It’s messy, chaotic, a clashing of desperate lips and when he brushes your lower lip with his tongue it’s embarrassing how good it feels. He pushes you against the wall so harshly by your waist that you think he’s trying to embed you into it, hands clasped tightly around you in frustration, his fingertips creating marks where they are fixed.

 Amongst all this, he presses his firm, lithe body against yours and you let out the quietest of moans with the realisation that he is desperately hard beneath the sweatpants he’s wearing, pressing it into your thigh.

 “Fuck…” he breathes as his hand snakes up your front to take hold of your jaw, kissing with such need that it almost feels like too much.

 All this time your hands have had no idea what to do, but one slides to the nape of his neck, gripping harshly and completely destroying the style his hair had been in. The other runs over the slick skin of his forearm, tracing the veins there, and how they seem to thrum with every beat of his heart, faster with the desire that courses through them.

 “Fucking perfect…”

 Words fail you at this point, his fingers digging into the sides of your face make you realise he’s keeping you right where he wants you, attacking your mouth with his in a way that’s not really happened to you before. And that little breathy moan escapes once again when his teeth nip at your lip as he pulls away, immediately dipping to your neck to kiss and suck the delicate skin there, his hips pushing against yours with hunger.

 You wonder what his hands would feel like wrapped around your neck, squeezing gently, or maybe not so gently. If his hands would just go that bit lower…if your hands just dipped beneath the hem of his shirt…down the sweatpants…

 Buzz buzz.

 Snapped out of this hot, heavy trance, Aemond steps back a little and you duck underneath his arm, not daring to look back at him at the fear you might stay and fuck up this entirely professional relationship. You desperately look at your phone, a missed call from Baela.

 But that’s all the excuse you need, you hurriedly pack up your stuff, “S-sorry…I..” you start but with no vocabulary to actually finish. Your core is still spurring with delight with what you’ve just done, taking all the power from your brain.

 Looking back briefly, he looks a bit dishevelled but still ridiculously too good, flushed in the face and his chest gently heaving, and with that ghost of a smile on his face. Not smug this time, to your delight.

 “Um, sorry I have to go…thanks, Aemond” you excuse promptly. Even the very swift walk back to the car is a blur. It’s only when you’re in the driver’s seat, intensely gripping the steering wheel that it all slots into place.

 Your fingers go to your lips and all the places his hands had touched you. They’re on fire. Begging for more. And you feel your breath in your lungs stutter at the memory of it. Aemond stands at his window, watching with acute amusement that you’re still sat there, absolutely dumbstruck by what’s happened.

 Baela pings you in the wake of her missed call.

taglist (sorry if I missed anyone, I’m crap, bold means I couldn’t tag)

@mrsgrwy​ @lovelykhaleesiii​@urmomsgirlfriend1@iiamthehybrid​ @namelesslosers​  @chainsawsangel​ @warmfieldofgrass​ @mynameisbaby9​ @afro-hispwriter​ @tempo-rary-fix​ @toodlesxcuddles @definitelynotsatans​ @svtansdaddyx​ @tssf-imagines​ @darkenchantress​ @vrtualfairy​ @fan-goddess​ @skikikikiikhhjuuh​ @helaenaluvr​ @sarahkimtae​ @blackxisxmyxcolour​ @castellomargot​ @girlwith-thepearlearring​ @julczimozart​ @amazingdisneyfansblog​ @slutforaemond@thedamewithabook@Iiamthehybrid@sahvlren@Whoknows333@cosmoeticss​

[fortunatelychaoticphantom]

Why is the fact that Jesus and Jews were from Israel considered controversial? It’s what we’re taught at school (and for Christians - church) in the US.

I’m genuinely asking, this isn’t sarcastic. No one I know has ever disputed that fact before.

Hello!

You're referring to this post.

It's controversial because denying the connection of Jewish people (especially Ashkenazim but not only) to the land of Israel is a fundamental aspect of post-modern antisemitism.

Classical and modern antisemitism, particularly in Europe, relied on the Jewish people's foreignness to dehumanize them. It was obvious they were Not From Here, despite living there for centuries and longer, and many demanded that they Go Back To Where They Came From. And then they did.

But antisemitism didn't go away just because Israel was founded, it simply morphed, just like it had between its classical phase (centered on religious otherness, religious "crimes" and blood libels) and its modern phase (centered on race theory and economics).

Of course, right-wingers are still classically and modernly antisemitic. They usually don't bother to hide their hatred, it's pretty fundamental to their ideology and identity (though there are aspects of hiding, especially with holocaust denial). But the left has always been just as antisemitic as the right. But it has also grown in the post-modern age, after world war 2, with specific ideologies, centered around notions of humanism and the importance of human and minority rights. And antisemitism doesn't sit well with these notions, especially not after the holocaust... So something had to change. Unfortunately, it wasn't the antisemitism.

This is a classic cognitive dissonance; I feel something (hatred for Jews) that is inconsistent with my ideology (hating people based on their ethnicity is bad). In such instances you can either 1) work to change your actions (it doesn't matter what I feel, as long as I don't harm Jews, and eventually I might change my feelings for them); or 2) change your believes (Jews aren't a category worth protecting).

Now, "hating Jews" is still a big no-no in western left circles. Even now you can't actually directly say it (obviously this was true before October 7th. It seems like even these rules are changing as we speak). So westerners needed to do two things: 1) white-ify the Jewish people (especially the Ashkenazim) and 2) shift the focus on Israel.

The white-ification of the Jewish people is a major theme is western leftist circles in the past 70 years, especially in the US because of its complicated history with race and ethnicity, but it's prevalent in many other countries as well (it should be noted that Jewish people themselves have contributes to this phenomena for many reasons, but this is not the place for this discussion).

In the post-modern age, "whiteness" means "evil" and it is connected to European and western imperialism and colonization. So, essentially, they change what being a Jew is - a white person, as opposed to a Levantine person. This is where some of these people will do mental gymnastics to deny where Jews are originally from, whether denying modern Jews have anything to do with the historical ones (and many choose this route) or somehow both admitting they are from Israel but saying it doesn't matter because it happened a long time ago and then with the same breath talk about how Palestinians are the indigenous ancient people of the land (they are both indigenous, the world is just that stupid). Now, since white people are evil, they are open for criticism, especially if they are colonizers. And since Jews are white now, it makes no sense for them to live in the Middle East.

Which brings us to refocusing their criticism on Israel. Here, people have to walk a fine line between a legitimize political criticism of the Israeli government and the society itself throughout the years (and there are MANY justified criticisms...) and just being antisemitic. Unfortunately, western leftist circles tend to lean more heavily into the latter. And, again, as has been particularly evident for the last three weeks, their focus is on identifying Israel as colonizing enterprise, not just beyond the 67' Green Line, but by it's very nature of existence, since Jews are white now and don't belong there.

And now, once again, they call us to Go Back To Where We Came From (just to be very clear - Palestinians and the rest of the world are doing it as well), despite that part of the world literally saying "don't bring them here, they are not from here", like they always did, just like the post OP was sharing. Only those Europeans aren't saying "Jews are from the Land of Israel and they deserve to live there", they are just saying what the entire world has been saying for the past two thousand years - we don't want Jews anywhere, period.

They don't give a shit about where Jews are from. Some of them say we're from Europe for the sole purpose of destroying Israel. And they would gladly displace millions of Jews and send them to live again with the people who tried and nearly succeeded to annihilate us. Everyone else just don't care, as long as they can hurt us, but also refuse to accept us as their own. And trust me - if and god forbid when millions of Jews will once again become refugees, not a single nation around the world from which We Came From would take us in. Not one.

I know that people know where Jews are from, but the fact remains that huge sections of the world right now, especially on the left side of the political map, will actively deny it.

Because the truth is - the world doesn't give a shit what Jews are or are not. The world doesn't give a shit where Jews are from or aren't from. The world doesn't want Jews in Israel, and it doesn't want Jews anywhere else.

The only place the world deems the Jews to belong to is their graves.

[animentality]

There are three frames of thought I've seen around Hogwarts legacy.

Let's list them.

1) I am a terf and I legitimately hate trans people. I love mocking and hurting them, and am either a big Harry Potter fan from the start or I legitimately only got into Harry Potter because I enjoy hurting and bothering trans people and trans supporters on the internet. I don't know what it's like to be loved by anyone and I live in perpetual anger and mistrust and the only joy I derive from my existence comes from sharing my misery with others.

2) I am a fan of Harry Potter and I wish people would stop judging me for buying the game. I think more people than Joanne Karen Rowling made it and I don't really mind the anti semitism or anti trans or pro slavery rhetorics because they do not affect me personally. I am also of the opinion that there is no ethical consumption under capitalism, but not because I care about the evils of capitalism, rather that I would like to use it as a shield from any legitimate criticism. I might have friends and family and do support trans people, but when it comes to boycotting, I am weak and my politics mean absolutely nothing to me practically, only ideologically.

3) I didn't buy the game. It looks like it sucks as much as its creator.

And that's about it.

But I am not surprised.

Tumblr is Terf Heaven, and y'all can't even boycott chick fil a, with its nasty ass chicken nuggets.

[fandomwritingbit]

Sweet Girl pt.5

dbf/William Afton x (fem) virgin/reader

pt.1 - here. pt.2 - here. pt.3 - here. pt.4 - here.

Synop: Bored of the lack of contact you and William decide to bring wanking to the 21st century.

Warnings: Smut, masturbation, obsessive behaviour/thoughts for the both of you, corruption, coercion. Virgin reader.

A/n: MATES, MATES, I FUCKING WROTE SOMMET. This is not a drill, I wrote something after weeks of nada and it's... well, it's mediocre. But it's something! This was not the part 5 I had planned but rather a dirty thought that ran away with me that I hope reads half decently.

Is this fuck proofread lmao, soz for any errors I'll try to fix them later on x

You wake very confused, squinting in the light from your bedroom window that was much too bright for 8 in the morning, so you lift yourself from your sheets to check your phone: 9:30. You’ve overslept. Siting up properly you glace at your side table clock through sleepy eyes, needing to confirm the reality of the time, you set an alarm, what the fuck? You have plans today that are now going to have to be pushed up. 

You’re up like a whirlwind, messaging the friend you’re supposed to be having breakfast with that it’s now going to have to be a lunch, a late lunch ideally. Surprisingly they’re not too put out, they must be running late themselves. Crisis averted, you head downstairs to get yourself some coffee which will hopefully combat the awful feeling of having screwed your whole day up already. To be fair, it’s about time something like this happened to you, life’s been too easy for too long. Well, baring the odd relationship with your father’s friend, of course. 

Not wanting to tackle the coffee machine, which you swear is as old as you, if not older, you go for coffee granules and the kettle. A simple man’s brew, and that’s certainly how you feel today. You hadn’t bothered with dressing or throwing a dressing gown on, it’s a warm enough morning that you can stand in the kitchen in your pyjama shorts and vest without shivering, the only cold you feel is your bare feet on the tile. 

Your kettle clicks and you set about making your cup, ignoring the squeak of the backdoor  opening, you’ll greet whichever parent it is when they greet you, if the interaction can be delayed it’s for the best. You pour your water, but the sudden and crisp sound of a wolf whistle makes you overspill onto the counter. Sliding your phone out the way of the spillage, you turn to see the sniggering face of William and your heart manages to soar and sink at the same time, something only this man is able to do. 

Your annoyed expression melts into a flush, you know exactly why he whistled and you cross your arms over your chest accordingly, hard up to do anything about the shorts position high up your thighs. 

“Sorry,” He says without any conviction, still grinning as the coffee begins to drip off the edge of the worktop. Adding slyly, “You wouldn’t mind making me one, would you?”

You neglect to answer, going for an embarrassed, “What are you doing here?” instead. The man’s been in your kitchen for less than a minute and you already feel like you shouldn’t be here, for your own protection. Last time springs to your mind, involuntarily quickening your heart rate. He’d caught you off guard then too, then used you up and wrung you out, and you loved every second of it. You hate him for that, and the way your pussy seems to know when he’s in the room, it’s not fair. 

“Clearing out the garage with you dad.” He presents his palms in his own defence, the smug look of him shows his pride at begging her legitimately. “He told me you were out.” It’s phrased like a question, again making you feel like a trespasser in your own home.

“I’m supposed to be.” You explain without detail, averting your gaze from his and instantly remembering the mess on the counter, and now the floor. 

“Well, you’re a sight for sore eyes. Especially in that.” He laughs meanly, making you frown. You look pretty all annoyed at him, the furrow of your brown not doing anything to hide the heat on your face from the invasive way his eyes drink you in. And as if that wasn’t far enough he steps forward, sliding his hand over the silky fabric coating your hip. “Almost as revealing as that pretty little bikini.” Your back hits the surface behind you, he has a knack for cornering you, but you suppose it’s not exactly herding cats if the prey doesn’t want to run away. 

The comment hits home though and you remember exactly how easy it was for him to move that garment aside and- 

You’re pulled from that thought as his hand slides further, over your hip to your arse. “Stop.” You say a little breathless, not liking how he just grins at the word. “...My dad could walk in.”

“That didn’t stop you last time.” His tone is mocking, riddled with amusement at how you can’t seem to refuse him. 

“That was stupid… You make me stupid.” You mutter, pushing his hand away and trying to ignore how affected you feel already. “You need to stop.” You affirm, holding your voice steady to prevent the whine that threatened to accompany it. 

William leans closer to you, a mean joy practically emanating from him when your breath hitches. He speaks lowly, a gleeful edge warming you for him and doing everything possible to add to that stupidity “Are you going to make me?”

You just look up at him, your chest rising quickly less than half an inch from his. “...Yes.” You finally manage, nerves and need in your core making you hesitant. Your eyes are wide in wait for response, and the man holds firm just long enough that you panic. He reaches behind you for something before obeying your word, you realise sharpish that he’s plucked your phone from the countertop. 

Trying to take it back fails when he catches your wrist and flicks you away. You’re whining like a child, unable to help the discomfort flooding your veins at him holding something so personal. “William, give it back. What are you-” Your words die when he simply holds the phone in front of you and you hear the subtle click of your face ID unlocking it. 

You watch angrily as he steps away with the device, internally fighting the urge to try and take it back by force. 

He glances at your outrage, stoking it with, “You must have some dirty secrets on here to protest so much.” Shaking his head, he makes you wait whilst he does whatever he nicked your phone to do. Chuckling as he has to manoeuvre the screen from your sight when you try to at least see what he’s doing. “Relax, sweetheart. I’m giving you my number… You don’t want to entertain me now, then you can later.” 

You find yourself nodding when he hands you the phone back. 

~

Your day is spent, lunch and coffee with your mate over and done with, dinner with your parents finished. So you slip away to bed with your phone clutched to your chest, which is tight with forbidden excitement. Halfway through the day your checking of messages was fruitful, with one from William telling you that you’re going to ‘entertain him’ at 11pm tonight, and despite your naivety you know exactly what that means. 

The only way to combat your nerves is preparation so you pick out a matching bra and knickers set, light pink and lacy, you know he’s going to like them, perhaps too much if anything. Then a white nightdress, just see-through enough to give a hint as to the underwear underneath. 

Then it’s propping your phone up with a pillow and sitting cross-legged on your bed, checking to see it the view will be good, and it certainly will. From there, all you do is wait, your foot absentmindedly tapping away with the excess excitement, you’re aroused at the thought of it. A dirty video call with a bloke older than your dad, it’s everything you’re not supposed to do, a bad idea all around, but that just makes your panties that bit wetter. 

He’s a little late, but the very moment he calls you answer, not even waiting for a ring. It makes him smirk, such a sweet thing, ready for him, no doubt waiting for him. Fuck, if he was twenty years younger he’d scale the window and see it in person. 

You know you’ve given your want away by his sly expression, and he teases you by saying, “Eager, huh?” 

You pout, now hating all the effort you went to and trying to explain it away. “Well, I was expecting-I knew you were going to-” 

Somehow, even through your tiny phone screen he has enough presence to be able to cut you off. “It’s a good thing.” He pauses before adding with a snicker, “I doubt you’re as eager as me.” He shifts as he says that and your heart skips a beat at the thought of him touching himself already. It’s a power only he has ever given you, to know just how mental you make him and that power makes your core tighten. 

“Now, sweet thing.” There’s a nonchalance to his words that contradict the fact he’s palming himself over his boxers, he can’t help it, he can see the strap of your bra peeking out and the curve of your hips suggested by your nightie. It doesn’t pass him by that he’s fucking pathetic. “Have you got headphones, or do I have to keep my voice down?” 

You hadn’t thought of that, but you’re glad he did when you think how often you hear your parents tv through the wall. So you reach to your bedside drawer to retrieve your headphones, well aware that he’s watching you and trying to catch sight of whatever he can. And after a moment you plug them in and pop them in your ears, flushing when you realise that the sound feels a lot more intimate now. Maybe he knew that. 

“God you drive me crazy with all the tiny fucking clothes you wear.” He’s laughing but you know he’s not joking. You’re not in a position to laugh, how exactly can you tell him that he drives you crazy with everything he fucking does. From the tensing of his jaw to the delirious sensation of his voice on your skin. All of it has your body begging for anything he’s willing to give you, regardless of what your mind thinks. 

You can’t prevent a small smile on your lips though, “I don’t do it on purpose.” Even as you say it you know it’s a lie, you didn’t do it on purpose at first, now though, you want him to see you. 

“Don’t fucking lie to me, sweetheart.” He knows you better than that. You giggle, it should be illegal for him to read your mind that easily. “I’d wager under that nightie you’re wearing something nice for me. Like a gift to be unwrapped.” The look on your face says it all, when you bite your lip like that he wants to bite it for you. “Am I right?” 

You can hardly look at your screen, but you nod, barely able to sit still. 

“Fuck, let me see.” Something about how he’s speaking now is very telling and you revel in the feeling for a moment before shifting to sit on your feet. 

“Okay.” You sound so small and quiet you can hardly hear it over that arousal in your blood. Your fingers hook under the bottom of your nightdress, hesitant to begin the process and your eyes flick to the screen. 

You catch his gaze and he smirks, “Come on, you know I’d do it for you if I could.” That you are certain of, sometimes there’s such hunger in his eyes you think he’s a breath away from ripping the fabric off you. 

You do as asked, your panties straps revealed high on your hips guiding the sight up your stomach,then to the thin lace hardly covering your breasts. You were right, he does like it. Much too much. 

“God, you are like a fucking present.” You grin at that, watching the hint of movement you can see towards the bottom of the screen, and you core pangs with the knowledge of what he’s doing. Now sitting on your feet, you press your heel between your legs and jump at the jolt of stimulation it brings. 

Your lip is between your teeth again as you debate whether you’re brave enough to ask for what you want. “...Show me.” You manage in a surge of voice, you wish you didn’t sound as shy as you do. 

You hear William’s scoff of disbelief, he hadn’t expected you to ask that but he supposes it’s only fair. “Yeah?” 

You nod, watching eagerly as he moves a hand to change the angle of your view. The sight stirs you immensely, his boxers pulled down enough to let his cock free, he held it, touching himself at a slow pace. You rake the image for what you can see, his shirt pulled up to let you see the trail of dark hair that leads down to his length. A crazy part of you burns to press your nose against his trail, curiosity, or something dirtier you don’t know, but you know he’d let you if you asked. 

It’s with near fascination you watch his stroke himself, not noticing how you’ve begun grinding your pussy against your heel, your knickers are clinging to your slick but all shame is lost. 

“I didn’t expect you to want to see.” He sniggers, you recognise the thickness of his voice, remembering the pride in your core when you took him in your mouth, the heavy breathing of someone clinging on to their self restraint by the tips of their fingers. There’s precum on his tip smeared by each rise of his fist, it’s a dirty feeling and if you were in his reach he’d have it resting pretty on your tongue. 

Soon your movement isn’t enough anymore, your heat whines for better friction, the attention on your clit that he does just right. It’s written in your posture and the pinch of frustration between your brows. 

William’s voice affirms your need. “You can touch yourself, lovely. Don’t have to wait to be told.” 

“I know.” You reply quickly, embarrassed at how easy he’d jumped to that conclusion. If you were harder to read maybe he wouldn't have such a hold on you. 

“Or do you want me to ask?” There it is again, that mocking that shouldn’t speak directly to your slick, it’s condescending but you know in your heart that he knows better. You open your mouth to protest the teasing but you have no chance to. “Come on, show me how you play late at night, how you give yourself what you need.” He wants to seem like he’s humouring you but right now, with his cock in his hand, he’d beg to see just how you touch your perfect cunt.   

You’re doing it, shifting your position so you’re sitting properly, legs raised to let you trace over your bundle of nerves. The fabric of your panties quickly proves irritating, so you hurry to take them off, glancing repeatedly at the view on screen, dying to match the rhythm of him stroking himself, not wanting to miss anything. At the sight of your pussy bare for him, knickers discarded, he hisses through his teeth; now that is the kind of thing that gets a bloke in serious trouble.

“And the rest.” He adds, and you’re so lost in your new-found touch it takes you a moment to realise what he’s referring to, when you do you push the bra straps from your shoulders, shimmying the garment down so that your chest is free. Your nipples are hard from your excitement, all parts of you aware of the growing need in your core, begging for the release your touch promises. It should be familiar but with William’s eyes on you it takes you time to remember what you like. 

You rub your clit, the cues from your body calling for you to press your fingers inside your hole. You’re unable to reach like he does, but it’s enough to bring your end into sight and a soft moan from your lips. 

He’s chuckling watching how weak you become, like he’s not moving faster with the taste of release on his tongue. It takes a lot for him to ask the question burning in his head, he already knows the answer but hearing it from you is going to be delicious. “Tell me, what you think about, when you play with yourself, sweet thing.” The words are stilted with his involuntarily quickening pace, he’s close and it’s fucking stupid how much he needs to cum. 

“You.” You say instantly, voice cracking. Your head between my legs, fingers hooking inside, teeth on my neck as you line your cock up between my legs. You haven’t the coherent thought process to say that, it’s flicking images of past imaginings, you shouldn’t want to give yourself to this man as much as you do. 

William grunts, speaking through gritted teeth to try and remain somewhat controlled, though there’s nothing controlled about his frantic movement, nor yours. “You’re so fucking lucky I’m not in there with you.” 

It’s not a threat, you’ve seen the size of him, you’ve been delirious from just his fingers, but you want it. You want him in there with you. You want it all. 

He loses it at your wide eyed look, fucking his fist ‘til his cum is dripping down his abdomen.  You're not far yourself from the view alone, but you can hear his breathing, the groan right as he touches the peak. And your walls clamp around your fingers in stuttering waves of climax, you shiver with it, your legs unwillingly pressing together. You have to bite the inside of your cheeks to keep any noise leaving you, a startled thought of discovery hitting you out of nowhere. 

“Fucking hell.” His voice makes you regain your senses, he’s chuckling and the hand not coated in release slips out of shot to rub the bridge of his nose; why is it so much better when a pretty thing like you is watching? 

“William?” You’re shaky as you speak, weighing up what you want to ask, deciding that closed mouths don’t get fed. In response he tilts the camera up so you can see he’s listening, and you can’t help but hit screenshot at the sight of him so dishevelled. “Next time… I want you to be here with me.” 

He laughs, “Anything you want, princess. I mean it.”

[magenta-embers]

Fetus Jimin's Blatant Crush on Jungkook

Today I wanted to travel back in time and put a spotlight on a period of utmost importance when it comes to understanding the full picture of Jikook and part of what makes it such a legitimate possibility.

Believing that they could truly be a couple now is made as easy as breathing when you observe their history. You need the whole context to take Jikook from just another ship to something potentially very real. It's a context that the other pairings in the group just don't have.

The Jimin and Jungkook we know now are settled and comfortable with themselves and with each other. You could call them domestic. But back in the day, say 2013-2015, it was a different story.

To put it simply: Jimin and Jungkook had a massive mutual crush on each other and it wasn't even remotely subtle.

Most Jikookers know what I'm talking about, but if you haven't had a chance to look deeper into the context of these two together, here's a teensy intro.

I'm gonna share a select few of my personal highlight moments exhibiting Jimin's crush + his confusion/acceptance regarding it. There are hours of moments to choose from and an image/gif limit, so we'll keep it to a minimum.

We're going to focus on the Jimin side of things today. Jungkook will probably get his own post as these two expressed their feelings quite differently.

Present-day Jimin is very good at compartmentalizing what thoughts or parts of thoughts he shares with us. He's vague in all the right areas, chooses his words carefully, omits certain details, and is overall pretty masterful at the parasocial aspect of being an idol. Back then though?

Holy sweet mother of pearl, he just said and did anything.

He was honest (embarrassingly so) and he wore his heart on his sleeve. Because of this fumbling period with no brain-to-mouth filter, there exists some incredible retrospective insight into how Jimin feels about Jungkook at his core, without all the masking and nonchalance we get nowadays.

(Let's be real though, he still slips up)

"JK is coming."

Boy 💀

Let's get into it.

~

Exhibit A

This first section is going to look at a very young Jimin's struggle with these new, unfamiliar feelings he's been having lately (not necessarily in exact chronological order but some highlights within the "budding crush" stage).

A.1

While affectionately petting the maknae's hair and nape, Jimin wonders aloud why he likes Jungkook so much, as if he likes him an abnormal amount or differently than the five other friends he has in the group. If anything, Jimin should have liked Tae the most at this point since they were friends from school. Yet, Jimin openly questions what makes Jungkook different.

It's an introspective question disguised as a rhetorical one. Obviously, Jimin doesn't want JK to answer and JK, shy as he is, doesn't know how to answer a loaded question like that so he tries to redirect Jimin's attention to actual matters. It doesn't quite work.

Jimin then says, "These days, Jungkook..." and trails off while scratching his head with lighthearted frustration as if to say, "These days, Jungkook... plagues my mind," or something to that sentiment. JK's on his mind a lot and it confuses him. He doesn't finish the sentence but instead brushes it off with a laugh.

He holds back because it'll look weird to people if he gets into how much he thinks about JK or unpacks why. Still, he can't help but start to talk about it, because it's something that's actively bothering him.

A.2

Like I said, not only does Jimin think about JK too much, but he's also thinking about how people will judge him for how he perceives Jungkook. People might think he's strange.

Why?

JK's the timid maknae with big, curious eyes. Of course, he's cute. Everyone will agree. Everyone does agree. So why is Jimin concerned with what he can say about Jungkook that's okay to others? He even pouts sadly for a moment at the end. The maknae's cute and he's kind of glum over it? He's definitely been overthinking it.

Also, the way Jimin cartoonishly moves his head and eyes while talking about how bewildered JK always is and how adorable he is for it is a hilarious attempt at being nonchalant, but to me, it just looks like a schoolboy trying not to seem gushy about his secret crush.

A.3

Jungkook's so cute and so charming that Jimin can't function like he wants to. Can't live properly because Jungkook's on his mind constantly. He's super distracting. Is this a normal friendship thing? No. You don't see Hobi or Joon saying this about him. It's a problem exclusive to Jimin. And exclusive for Jungkook.

Jimin knows it's weird too. He's acting lighthearted about it, but to randomly say, "I can't live because of you" and keep bumping into JK is his frustration bleeding through. All the while he can't take his eyes off him as if he's trying to solve his dilemma right then and there.

Overall, It seems like Jimin doesn't understand what it is he's feeling, just that it's a lot, which makes me think that up until the Jungkook point, he hadn't really considered his sexuality on a meaningful level. We know that Jimin was the least experienced romantically, so it wouldn't surprise me if that's the case.

It's okay, Jiminie. You'll figure out a lot of things about yourself sooner rather than later.

Exhibit B

This section is about a period of time when Jimin accepted his crush and became unbelievably annoying vocal about it. You could also do an essay on why he was so in everyone's face about it.

B.1

Man, he just outright said it, huh?

Jimin wants to be with Jungkook and go on a date with him and hold hands.

Okay, pack it up everyone, we're done here. He like likes him, oooooooh!

Look at him clinging to JK's clothes and merrily skipping forward holding his wrist. Bless his heart. As Jimin once mentioned, "My heart that thinks of Jungkook is quite big."

Peep everyone else's reactions. JK has no objections and is just basically making his "Yeeeeeaaaah" face. Namjoon and Yoongi are a mix of confused and exasperated, both going, "What?" at the inappropriate(?) answer. Hobi attempts a poker face.

They shove Jimin away and attempt to move on...

And Jimin comes right back, practically leaps on Jungkook to plead with him to "live happily together." Okay.

When I tell you he's embarrassing.

Now Namjoon is straight-up irritated because Jimin didn't get the hint and is ruining the interview. He rolls his eyes and shoves them both back this time like he knows he's gotta get rid of the whole equation.

Hobi's glare poker face fails and he attempts to redirect focus to the topic with his own answer, complete with a pointed hand gesture.

Yoongi has a genuine scrunch of judgy confusion as if he just doesn't get wtf Jimin is trying to do because he should know better or why he's acting so clingy right now.

Jungkook quietly preens under Jimin's attention, but it's also awkward because he can read the room, so he doesn't quite know how to react other than remain pliable. He does reach for Jimin's hand subconsciously though.

I don't think it's even necessary to keep going, but oh ho ho, we're gonna keep going.

B.2

Tae: "I think he kind of likes men."

Now, I don't love the way Tae blurts this out, putting Jimin on the spot and nearly outing him. But also, it's meant to be a joke and he likely doesn't know yet just how on the nose he really is. Tae has grown and matured a lot over the years, so forgive him for this blip.

I imagine Tae has had to sit through a lot of sus rants from Jimin about Jungkook at this point. Because it's interesting that the statement came out of him so readily as if he's considered this about Jimin more than once. He's one of the closest people to Jimin, so if he's been pondering this about his friend then it's a pretty significant observation.

Now how does Jimin react to this out-of-pocket accusation? Is it:

a) "Haha, noooo!"

b) "What are you saying?"

c) "Not like that!"

d) "Come on now."

e) He doesn't deny it whatsoever.

If you answered e, you get a sun and moon sticker. It would've been so easy and expected for Jimin to deny this claim, but he doesn't. Because he can't. Because he'd be lying. Because he does kind of like men. Especially one in particular. And Jimin is just too honest.

He does very gracefully tiptoe around a confirmation (and a shutdown of the topic) by telling Tae he doesn't like him specifically. His reflex was to be defensive of himself and how much he likes Jungkook. It also further confirms that how Jimin likes Tae (his best friend) is different from how he likes Jungkook. It's all truly very telling.

(JK's reactions are very cute, but we won't get into that here.)

B.3

Host: "You're free to go anywhere in the world with anyone you want to do anything you wish. Where are you, what are you doing, and who are you with?"

Jimin:

Really? He had this romantic-ass answer ready to go. The other members gave normal answers about family and such. Jimin could've easily. But no. He then smiles sweetly over at Jungkook. The host is actually flustered by his answer and translates what he says, but conveniently leaves out the holding hands part.

But this is a fluke, right? He just said Jungkook as a silly answer, right?

Oh, look! Another instance when he can answer with anything and still ends up being honest.

"I think Jungkook is very cute." It's his go-to answer when people ask him why he likes JK so much. People keep mentioning it because his liking for Jungkook is noticeably and abnormally loud. Yet, Jimin's usual answer isn't really a complete answer, is it? "Cute" can be part of a reason, but not the whole reason. Cute is the safe detail he can share.

Lmao at Tae's side-eye at Jimin fawning over Jungkook shamelessly. You can tell he's thinking, "...this mf likes men" again. He hasn't perfected that Tae poker face just yet.

So Jimin really wants that private trip with Jungkook, hey? Why not with Tae, his bestie? His soulmate? Tae's also very cute, no?

Because he doesn't mean a friend trip.

(Don't fret, Jiminie. You'll get your private trip with Jungkook and it'll be beyond your expectations.)

B.4

A couple of examples of Jungkook being aggressively on Jimin's mind even when he's just answering basic questions.

No one: So, what do-

Jimin: Jungkookie <3

Literally, who asked? No one's twisting his arm here to make him answer "Jungkook" with romantic implications under these totally general questions. He could've answered with literally anything else.

Some thoughts:

If he was being speedy and just writing/saying the first things that popped into his head, it still means Jungkook is at the forefront of his mind. Plagues his mind, if you will.

If he was carefully considering the questions and answering honestly, it still means Jungkook is heavily weighing in his mind at a vulnerable level.

Jungkook still came before performing and receiving attention. The first thing. Not the last thing as a joke because Jimin couldn't think of anything else.

He makes sure to stake his claim over Jungkook in his description of him. "Mine." How fanfic.

His weakness is Jungkook. He can't resist him. Point blank. Why would he say that? How else am I supposed to interpret that?

Jungkook reaches every corner of Jimin's mind. Even if Jimin manages to convince himself he's just being playful and jokey, it's the repetitive nature and exclusivity of Jungkook being involved in his answers that are eyebrow-raising and give him away. He might as well doodle hearts around "JK" all over the page. It's a textbook crush. He's infatuated with this person he thinks is unattainable.

B.5

"Happy Birthday Jeon Jungkook! Please accept my love!" followed by blowing a kiss, an awkward giggle, and a glance at Jungkook.

What love? He's already accepted your platonic love; you guys are good friends, attached at the hip, and Jungkook's made it explicitly clear he likes you a lot and appreciates how well you treat him/take care of him. What more do you want him to accept, exactly, Jimin?

Again, unnecessary. No one's making him say this. No one's expecting him to say this. No one wants him to say this. And yet.

B.6

Manifest your dreams, Jiminie.

I don't even have to explain to you how common the "We look like a couple! Haha, just kidding... Unless?" thing is. We've all been there. You want to plant the seed in your crush's head. You want them to think about it, to consider the image of you two together. Jimin's planted a whole grove in JK's head with the way he's been all over him these couple of years.

Exhibit C

The kisses.

The amount of times Jimin either asks to kiss Jungkook, asks Jungkook to kiss him, or tries to kiss Jungkook is quite frankly absurd. These are just some examples. Some!

Imagine this was your friend who keeps trying to kiss you. For years. Jokes get really old really fast. You'd laugh and play along the first time. Laugh it off the second time. Force a laugh the third time.

At what point would you start wondering if your friend has legitimate feelings for you?

At what point do you think Jungkook did?

Especially considering Jimin's general behavior toward him.

(The other members don't laugh when it happens in front of them. It's always either wtf are you saying or they change the subject with visible discomfort.)

What Jimin is doing here (via "jokes") is testing Jungkook's boundaries, gauging his reactions, because he's interested in him beyond platonic limits. He really, really wants to kiss Jungkook and fantasizes about it, but he will not make a serious first move out of fear of being rejected.

Food for thought: Post-2015, Jimin doesn't ask Jungkook for kisses anymore or beg him to love him back, while coincidentally also becoming intimately touchier than ever with each other.

Perhaps Jimin finally got what he wanted? Hmm...

~

We can stop here. I think you get the point.

Everyone, say it with me now: Jimin wants Jungkook romantically.

He wants to go on dates with Jungkook.

He wants to hold hands with Jungkook.

He wants to kiss Jungkook.

He's expressed these things in every way he can:

He's acted them out.

He's said them aloud.

He's written them down.

Over and over and over again. What more do you want? I am not assuming anything. To say that he doesn't is just blatantly ignoring poor Jimin screaming it from the rooftops to fit whatever agenda you have. It's a you problem.

If you want to see more examples of everything (because there are still plenty), just watch this. In fact, watch every video on this channel. Treat yourself.

Also thanks to this heaven-sent channel for the captions on almost everything in this post (all gifs by me).

If I see a single one of you say with your whole chest that Jimin thinks of Jungkook in a brotherly way after this, I will hunt you down and beat your ass and your brother's ass.

Open your damn eyes.

I hope you enjoyed my spiel. Till next time!

E.