#but in particular sometimes i think about how like

[romanticfatale]

Love this. I love fashion and as trans man I have a particular interest in menswear both formal and alternative.

Understandably not an exhaustive from either myself nor OP by any means, but I wanted to suggest additional nuances:

(Made some edits)

Take your own measurements if you can. If you don't have measuring tape, you can use a ruler and a thread/rope, paper (standard US printer paper being 11 x 8.5 inches) and a bit of math, or other lengths of measure convenient to you.

Important ones are:

Bust: Across the chest and around your back centered to your nipples. If you wear a bra, take this measurement with a bra. To get your bra size, bend over if you can and measure across your nipples with how far they hang down.

Underbust: For bra-wearers, important to take for determining bra size. Equals band number. Subtract from the bra-less bust to equal cup size. Every inch of difference is a letter. Can be important to take if you wear an underbust corset, bra or not.

Waist size (where you prefer to have your pants hang) and natural waist size (typically across your belly slightly above your naval)

Hips, especially if you have wide hips.

Shoulder size mostly matters if you want tailored items or have broad shoulders. I have broad shoulders, and certain places/brands make for narrower shoulders. I still enjoy some womenswear blouses so shoulders have always been tricky for me.

Menswear is often determined by sleeve length, neck girth, waist size, and inseam (from the crotch to the ankle). I am very short so I have to tailor everything myself anyway, so it might not matter unless you're tailoring but most menswear minimum is about 30" inseam, 30" sleeve, and 14" neck. Waist I've seen as small as 24"

Get to know your shoe sizes in various measures. US men is typically 2 numbers smaller than US women's (US 8 women = US 6 men). As a USAmerican who also buys internationally, I like to know my Europoean size as well. Mens shoes in the US are difficult to find below US size 8, but not impossible.

Mens trousers are usually either pleated or flat front, meaning there are or aren't pleats in the waist. Sometimes there are multiple pleats. Pleated looks a little dressier.

"Slacks" and dress pants are the same. "Khaki" is a tannish or light brown color but "khakis" is often slang for tan colored Chinos, which are usually made of cotton. Dress pants are "dressy" as they are more formal in cut/pattern, color, and style.

Dress pants usually have buttons the same color as the fabric, and do not have rivets. Rivets on trousers, iirc, were originally a working class thing as it reinforces the pocket strength. Jeans have rivets and metal buttons. Sometimes Chinos have rivets and often metal button. Think of Chinos as "between" Jeans and Dress pants in both material and dressiness.

Remember to check your pockets in dress pants if they are sewn shut. This is typically intended to prevent dust, lint, and other things before purchase, and indicates they have not been worn.

"Trouser" and "Pants" are mostly the same thing depending on where you are. Some places in the US say trousers are dress pants whereas pants refer to any two-legged waist garment, but pants in the UK iirc are undergarments and trousers are all two-legged waist garments.

Gurkha Trousers are usually slightly higher waisted with a wider waistband and have a buckle instead of a button. They lean more formal, around the same area as Chinosbut can be as dressy as dress pants given material.

There is a difference between a Blazer, a Sports Coat, and a Suit coat, among many other kinds of coats.

A Blazer is usually intended to be emblematic of some sort of group, such as a school or a club. The buttons have said emblems on them, there may be an embroidered patch around the breast, and they are often the color of said group, sometimes a bright or noticeable color or vivid prints, hence "blazer"

A sports coat is a suit-like cut of coat but intended to be worn with any combination of colors. A suit coat is cut from the same cloth as the rest of the suit and is intended to be worn with the full piece, and typically has buttons the same color as the fabric like dress pants. Separating a suit coat from the suit is possible, but if you don't do it well you look very silly. Mix and matching pieces like this is called Spezzato, meaning "mixed" in Italian.

A suit is typically made as a two or three piece, meaning either a coat and trousers or a coat, waistcoat, and trouser.

A peacoat is a similar cut but thicker, warmer, and usually around hip or mid thigh. They are intended to be worn on top of a suit. An overcoat is similar but longer, typically knee length or longer.

Formal coats can be single or double breasted. Usually, you are not intended to button the bottom button of a formal menswear coat. Peacoats are always double breasted.

Double breasted sports coat can have various button configurations depending on how many buttons, where they're placed, and how much room you have in the waistline to move.

The lapels (the flaps around the collar) can also be stylized.

You may have noticed some lapels have a little hole in them, the lapel buttonhole. This is for a lapel pin or boutonniere. They are usually intended to showcase an emblem, such as for employees, officials, or other identification means and events (prom, religious orders, etc).

Some coat have "vents" which are the little slits in the back.

There are multiple types of waistcoats/vests as well. They can also be single or double breasted, they can have lapels, have v necks or "horse shoe" scoop-like necks. Similar to the sports coat, the bottom button should be left undone if it is single breasted. Double breasted waistcoats are usually fully buttoned, but the bottom can be left for slight more casual wear.

Wearing a waistcoat without a coat is totally acceptable and one of my favorite fashions. It also works well to hide binder seams.

I’m partial to tapestry coats and waistcoasts, meaning they are made of “tapestry” fabric, which is thick and usually wool with beautiful prints or embroidery.

In the US (at least where I am) we also call south asian vests Nehru vests (and also Nehru jackets which are the same but long-sleeve). They are waistcoats with band collars (aka mandarin collars).

Waistcoats usually have the back made of a different fabric, usually viscose or silk or similar. I never liked these personally since I don’t wear sports costs to hide them. Waistcoats that are the same fabric front and back are usually called cloth-backed.

Shoes: Oxford, Derby, Brogues: Oxford and Derby refers to the lace style.

Brogue refers to the cut of the shoe:

Different kinds of heels (and other shoes), as well:

Menswear is often harped on for being "boring" and there's two things I have to say about that: a) a lot of anglospheric "western" menswear is very very specific. Wearing pink will get some guys slurred at. However, you are allowed to have fun with it. You can wear a deep-v brightly colored sports coat without a shirt and have a huge chunky pearl necklaces with some bell bottoms and bright colred sunglasses. You can wear a "womens" coat and "womens" shoes with a suit.

It IS frustrating that so much of what is considered menswear in really specific western anglosphere IS boring because of extreme concepts of masculinity, but if you can sew you can also alter clothes however you like. Cut off the sleeves of a sport coat and reattatched them with ribbons, cut out lace or another color of fabric in long triangles and turn dress pants into two-toned bell bottoms.

Look at haute couture menswear to get some ideas, look at favorite celebrities and bands and films (prince, motley crue, malice mizer, billy porter, david bowie, legend, romeo and juliet, the color of pomegranates, the fall, etc etc) on how to bend masculinity and have fun with fashion.

As a queer and fashion-loving trans man, it's very important to me to put on the image of masculinity while also bending it. The "feminine in a masculine way" thing where if I'm going to be called an evil satanic freak for wearing earrings and black, I'd prefer to at least be gendered correctly.

Men and women’s wear differ often in the way they are cut, usually menswear being squared off where womenswear has hourglass figures. Menswear is also more often sturdier and thicker compared to more delicate womenswear fabric. Keep that in mind when mix and matching typically gendered clothes. A women’s blouse can look more squared off with a men’s vest, or a women’s vest can look nice with men’s trousers.

Seconding OP's comment about searching trend vs type, there Can be some good stores that are trying to advertise via style or trend but it's much better to curate your wardrobe more individually. I've had a similar discussion Here but essentially, even "normie" brands can be made alternative or more lively if you learn how to style properly.

Things like color, cut, and shape will affect how clothing looks on you.

I've always hated the idea that certain shapes, hairstyles, glasses, etc are "best" on someone. Round faces can wear round or square glasses or blunt bang bob haircuts or mullets all they want. They will each look different, yes, but it depends on what you want to look like and how to achieve that look.

For example, every now and then Macy's will have an out of season sale. 200$ clothing for 20$. It sucks that's how you have to shop for save money, but they're often well tailored and long-lasting across the brands they sell. I've beautiful dress shirts and trousers that work excellently for gothic-adjacent fashion.

Last but not least, times I think brand can matter:

Certain brands, not necessarily "big/expensive/luxury" brands but brands in general tend to have gimmicks, styles, materials, and other things they use often. If you like the way a particular set of trousers or a jacket you found either online or at the thrift store or any store feels and looks on you, look up the brand and see if they have similar items (and hope they still exist). I especially recommend this if you're a very tactile or sensory person, as finding a brand that consistently makes clothes that feel good on your body can be SO important.

Plus, more well known (but not necessarily luxury) brands and thrift will more often have better clothes than fast fashion anyway. Thrift because they're usually older clothes anyway and thus made in a time where they were already quality compared to now, and certain brands because they have an image and standard to keep.

There's quite a bit more across the entire fashion industry and it'snot something I'm much more well versed in than what I already posted or said, but this is what I have the energy to mention atm.

i dont consider myself a 'fashion guru' by any means but one thing i will say is guys you dont need to know the specific brand an item you like is - you need to know what the item is called. very rarely does a brand matter, but knowing that pair of pants is called 'cargo' vs 'boot cut' or the names of dress styles is going to help you find clothes you like WAAAYYYY faster than brand shopping

[crimson-and-clover-1717]

When I watched OFMD this year, I literally knew three things:

It was called Our Flag Means Death

It was a pirate comedy

It had been cancelled

I didn’t know Rhys Darby (‘that Murray bloke from Conchords’) or Con O’Neill (‘the weird guy from Chernobyl’) were in it until they came on screen. And please don’t stab in me in the face, but I had never heard of Taika Waititi. I’m very much not the target market for this show. Although I will say I think it’s universal in its exploration of the human condition. So if you’re human, the show is for you.

I knew nothing about budget cuts, editing decisions, or even at this point any circumstances around why it had been cancelled. I had not an inkling it was a romance. I had no notion it was going to overtake my life to such an extent.

I watched one episode a night for 18 nights (I know, I know… I binge-watched it immediately afterwards over two days, and haven’t stopped since). I also had no-one to talk to about the show as I watched the 18 episodes. No-one I knew had ever heard of it. I really was a blank canvas.

And this is what I thought. Other than finding Calypso’s Birthday a little uncomfortable on first watch (and that’s largely because I find torture, even the OFMD variety, difficult to engage with - I always skip the opening of 206 now), I saw no difference between the seasons in terms of artistic merit. It’s possible that because I didn’t experience an 18-month hiatus, and build up my own version of what season 2 should be in my head, I didn’t have any expectations to be knocked down. I just engaged with what they asked me to watch.

I fell in love with this show at ‘My name’s Stede. I’ll be your robber here today.’ I fell in love with Stede Bonnet when he did his little Scrappy Doo air-punch in episode two.

With regard to season two, The Innkeeper affected me so much I honestly think it altered my brain at a structural level. More so than The Chain sequence which is when I think this show started affecting my brain chemistry.

I also loved the development of Stede and Ed outside of their personas. The couch scene in Fun and Games made me believe in them as a couple in ways I hadn’t quite in season one because they were growing and being real with each other. I thought their arguments were so well-written. Man on Fire has one of the most authentic representations of couple miscommunication I have ever seen on tv. And I think Mermen is really good in doing what it needed to do, and did it well. How do you end a tv series that gives a satisfactorily emotional ending, but doesn’t give away everything in case there’s another season?

Ed’s journey in particular just ripped my heart out and then glued it back together. And seeing Stede continue to develop his very nonlinear understanding of the power of his earnestness and gnc self, whilst still sometimes wrestling with notions of traditional masculinity… I needed to grow a second heart.

When I learned of the financial and time constraints later on, I was shocked they had achieved such a high standard of tv.

Imagine my shock when I discovered the Canyon…

It’s fine if you don’t like season 2, or season 1, or OFMD at all for that matter. But if you want me to say season 2 isn’t any good, or as good as season 1, then you want me to say something that I have never felt to be true. When you experience it holistically like I did, it all hangs together beautifully.

[xoxosolia]

hii. ohmg, just read your post about you becoming a master shifter and I'm sooo happy for you!! seeing successes on here genuinely makes me feel so inspired and happy, so thanks for sharing it with us.

however, i would love to know how you shifted for the first time, what blockages did u let go of to finally have shifted. also i hope you can mention the method when u first shifted (if u used any), which methods do you use to shift regularly now? how does it feel to be a master shifter? and if its okay with you, can you share wid us your Drs? ALSO IS SHIFTING RLLY AS EASY AS THEY SAY!!?

thankyouu soo much💌

♡ How i shifted for the first time ♡

The first time I shifted was a normal Sunday. I was so depressed and I absolutely didn't want to go to class because the next day I had a lot of control, so i just said to myself "I'll shift tonight or never" I was seriously determined, so I tried closing my eyes and putting on a subliminal but it didn't work so I fell asleep.

I woke up around 2 a.m. and realized that I hadn't succeeded. I was a little disappointed and very tired but I wanted to try again. So since it was still early and I had time, that's what I did. I concentrated on my dr very precisely, imagining myself looking in the mirror and dressing myself in my dream clothes, I was extremely focused on all the details , my face, clothes my friends, things like that.

It lasted about 20 minutes I think, until my eyes opened on their own and was in my room in my dr on my bed, I didn't immediately understand that I had shifted , everything seemed so normal. It took me 5 minutes to understand that my room had changed and I was like "Oh shit"

I think what made me succeed that night and not the others was that I was very focused on my dr and that I was too tired to notice the symptoms that I had, And also because those days I was alone at home and therefore my house was completely silent, so i understood that was just a problem of distraction

I didn't use any particular method, I just let myself go and I don't use any at all now. I just think very hard about my dr and I'm there

Honestly I really like being a master shifter, I feel so powerful lol😭. and it really boosted my self-confidence. It also means that now I no longer ask for anything at all because I know that if I want it I will have it whether it is with the shift or with the manifestation. When I realized that I had become a master shifter I first had a mini existential crisis. I was asking myself things like "So technically magic exists?" "So technically I'm immortal?" "So anything is really possible?" I wasn't really sad about it on the contrary. I found it incredible (and still do)

The shift also really changed the way I interact with others, whether here or in my other realities. Personally I don't make a script and I keep everything in my head because my subconscious knows what I want and sometimes in my dr my personality changes without me realizing it.

In my fame dr I am rather extroverted or even arrogant, and in my barbie charm school dr I am rather introverted and stubborn, the worst is that I never realized it until the day I had a big argument with my best friends from my fame dr. They didn't want to talk to me anymore and that's when I realized that yes, I can have problems even on shift in a perfect reality.

I have a lot of idea for my dr but for now i shift only in my better cr, fame dr and my Barbie charm school dr (I will definitely do a post about my dr).

I hope I answered all your questions :))

Xoxo, Solia ૮꒰ྀི⸝⸝> . <⸝⸝꒱ྀིა

[slytherinboysvip]

Imagine best friend Mattheo being absolutely obsessed with his innocent little Hufflepuff bsf but she just can’t tell. Everyone else knows, and it is quite obvious, but she just can’t think someone like him would want someone like her. But when she jokingly says she’s gonna get Cedric to take her virginity he decides it’s time he came clean.

Possibly with some soft smut if you are comfortable with it of course

bsf mattheo riddle x hufflepuff reader

hopefully this matches your request <3 i’ll most likely make a part 2 for this because.. you’ll see ;) 3.5k words

you lived a rather simple uncomplicated life, attending hogwarts as a hufflepuff with no interest in anyone’s drama. though you kept to yourself most times you tried to be nice to all your peers maintaining your classic hufflepuff demeanor, despite this there was one thing that was different about you.

you see, you didn’t see or understand why people don’t like other houses just because of “house rivalry” especially the students who weren’t even participating in any sports or point winning. and with this over your years though you had few friends you had one best friend who at first seemed rather impossible to be friends with.. mattheo riddle.

when you two met you were a fourth year and him a fifth, coincidentally you were going on to a few friends about your annoyance with people automatically assuming the worst of slytherin even though you yourself weren’t in their house or nearly like one. mattheo overheard this heated- adorable voice coming from behind him and he walked towards you carefully.

he sat down in front of you beside your friend as she gawked faces towards you at his presence. “you don’t think we’re too mean, huh?” he questioned small laugh leaving his lips. “i just think that some people are misunderstood and just because some wizards turned out bad doesn’t mean all of them in your house are” you looked at him answering his question with ease

he smirked in amusement and leaned a little closer to you “hm, hufflepuff eh? what year are you puff?” he sat back examining you and you didn’t fail to notice that nickname he slipped in “fifth year but i have an early birthday which is annoying because i could technically be out sooner” you sighed ignoring his staring.

“well, seeing as it’s ravenclaw against gryffindor do you wanna watch the quidditch game with me i know the best view” he stood up and held his hand out for you, you look towards your friends and they’re both nodding their heads for you to go so you did.

from that point on you and mattheo had been best friends, sadly he was in his seventh year and now you in your sixth nothing much had changed in your life. living vicariously through mattheo and his stories about slytherin parties and how you should go to one with him before it’s too late, he’d tell you about his sexual adventures and your jaw would drop everytime.

you yourself also confided in him though with much less interesting things, telling him how you feel unlikeable by guys sometimes because they never try to get or talk to you, or how you feel lonely because you’ve never had a a boyfriend before. hed always help soothe the thoughts away, telling you that it’s only your brain making those things up , “listen y/n, anyone who doesn’t love you is fucking insane”.

𓆙

talking to your friend zarah who’d been there since day one you always told her what you told matt, for the most part. “i just don’t get why nobody is interested in me zar, like am i genuinely that ugly” you plopped onto your bed sighing dramatically. “you’re not ugly and if you think no guys want you you’re blind i know one in particular that really, really wants you” she giggled.

you looked at her with a confused expression “i must be missing something because i have no idea who you’re talking about” you awaited her response and she just rolled her eyes and sighed “girl your practically boyfriend of a best friend you do everything with” she gave you a duh look and you just laughed. you genuinely couldn’t believe she’d even think he’d like you especially with all the girls he’d been with, “you’re hilarious, we both know he doesn’t want me he wants all the girls he tells me about” you started to compose yourself but zarah’s expression didn’t change.

“you literally must be blind y/n do you need glasses? or should i say puff? let’s talk about how that man hasn’t stopped calling you that pet name since you’ve met.. he’s in love” she rolled her eyes raising her hands in the air. “i still don’t think he wants me so there’s no convincing me” you shrugged her off and she groaned getting up and leaving your shared dorm.

𓆙

“puff you gotta come to this party, slytherin won agains gryffindor i just know this is gonna be the party you want to go to pleaseee” mattheo put his hands on your shoulders shaking you “fiinee” you attempted to answer between shakes before he let you go “if i would’ve known it was that easy i would’ve done that years ago” he rolled his eyes.

“anyways it’s tonight at like 8 so i’ll just get you from your dorm at like 7 do you think they’ll let me in? actually what’s the password?” he didn’t give you time to finish any of your sentences before you just gave him the password “butterscotch” you whispered, in response mattheo laughed “fucking butterscotch merlin that’s hilarious” you looked up at him and rolled your eyes walking away.

“i’ll see you at 7 puff” he yelled across the hall and you just gave a thumbs up and continued walking. you honestly were quite nervous seeing as you’ve never necessarily been to a party before, you’ve made small appearances at hufflepuff parties but you’ve heard they don’t even compare to slytherin.

making your way into your dorm you spot zarah and you pull her up from the common room couch “i finally said yes to a party need help now” you quickly mumbled and she quickened her pace “when does it start girl i need the info right this second come on you’re talking too long for me” she rushed and you blurted it all out “8pm he’s getting me at 7 he has the password he will be at the dorm” closing the door behind you two you both stopped to catch your breath

“sooo is it a dateee” she shimmied her arm on you winking “i already told you he doesn’t like me!!” you replied to her relentlessness. “ugh whatever we need to get you ready girl it’s already six” she pushed you onto your shared vanity chair and pulled out all of your makeup and a few things of hers, “creative control?” she asked smirking at you “mm fine but not too much” you agreed “we’ll see” she giggled.

after around 30 minutes she finished your makeup and she showed you the finished product, looking at yourself in the mirror you thought how you never would’ve put on red lipstick yet you feel really good in it. she gave you a small smokey eye and a small winged liner and you felt you looked more aggressive then you were, but you kinda loved it.

“it’s so much but so pretty” you admired yourself and the makeup she put on you slowly getting used to the feeling of fake eyelashes on your eyes. “i’m so glad you love it, but we need to find an outfit like three hours ago” she joked and rushed to your closets “i actually have the perfect dress in mind if you’re feeling the want to rep slytherin green” she raised her eyebrows up at you in a suggestive matter “sure why not” you shrugged

she handed you a velvet body con forest green dress that you were sure was going to be extremely short and you mean in every place. she held it up onto you “this will be perfect. get it on come on” she rushed you into the bathroom and you began putting it on “this is sooo tight” you called out as you struggled “oh i forgot it was a corset back wait i need to help you can i come in” she yelled through the door

“yeah come on i need this thing one me already” you struggled more as she walked in and immediately began to help you loosening the strings of the dress and pulling it down onto you “there we go now suck in like your life depends on it” she said half jokingly and began retightening the corset back. with every pull it felt like your chest was spilling out more and more and your ribs were shrinking “okay merlin that’s enough before i can’t breathe” you huffed and she stopped tying it off in a bow

“stop you look so hot y/n i bet matt will be drooling” she teased and you just rolled your eyes “what do we do with my hair” you looked at her with horror as you only had ten minutes before he should arrive. you quickly began curling your hair not really caring if it was messy just giving it some body and just as you were spraying perfume on there was a knock on your door.

zarah looked at you and whispered “answer it go go now” she pointed to the door like she was afraid to touch it herself and you walked over opening it to see mattheo in an all black button down with the top few buttons undone and black dress looking pants yet somehow he didn’t look overdressed. he didn’t say anything for a minute he was just staring at you looking up and down in awe “holy fuck y/n who did your makeup you look woah” he put his finger on your chin moving your head around examining your makeup

“zarah isn’t it pretty” you smiled and he removed his hand and replied “yeah you are, now let’s go” he grabbed your hand and you looked behind you waving bye to zarah “he’s so in love with you” she whispered before the door slammed closed.

𓆙

once you got the the party you noticed there were already many slytherins already pregaming and mattheo brought you two to them, “let’s get some alcohol in you little puff” he winked and poured you a shot of who knows what, you smelled the foul drink and it made your nose burn “come on do ittt” he cheered on and you held your nose throwing the shot back gagging at the taste. “how do people enjoy that” you made a face at him “like this” he replied taking two shots himself, “now catch up” he winked pouring you yet another

“if i didn’t know any better id say you’re trying to get me drunk matt” you laughed and he looked at you amused “obviously that’s what im trying to do it’s a party” he put the shot glass to your lips and you parted them taking the burning substance down your throat, “eugh that didn’t get any better the second time” you shook your head in disgust. “hm, let me make you an actual drink” he grabbed a clear liquor and a red juice mixing them together adding more alcohol than your past two shots and handed it to you

“matt this smells foul” you looked up at him, “just try it trust me the slytherins have the masking drink down” he winked and you reluctantly took a sip, and to your surprise all you tasted was juice. after taking another few sips you quick began drinking it and mattheo pulled the cup from your lips “slow down there this shits dangerous you’ll get so drunk you won’t be able to walk straight” he chuckled. “it’s not my fault they made it taste like juice” you shrugged still sipping.

“hey mattheo have your little hufflepuff take some shots with us” enzo threw his arm around your shoulders and mattheo pushed them off almost immediately “no she doesn’t need any shots” he spoke “you didn’t even ask me” you protested, granted you didn’t necessarily want to take any shots you just didn’t like being talked for. “oo are you sure you’re not slytherin you got an attitude” enzo laughed handing you a shot and you looked at mattheo who rolled his eyes as you took the shot.

throwing the shot back the burning sensation took over your throat and you could feel it rushing down your throat. you coughed a bit and chugged your drink for comfort “puff you’re going to get shitfaced slow down” matt fully took your cup this time and you were already feeling it. giggling looking up at him “okay now who was going to tell me party’s are fun” you continued giggling.

the music started playing and the slytherin common room was now getting more and more packed. you saw fifth year students and up in here, even a few ravenclaw and hufflepuffs your recognized. to your surprise in the corner of the party you spotted cedric diggory talking to a group of girls holding a drink.

pansy noticed your head being stuck in a certain direction and followed your eyes “oh em gee, someone’s got their eyes on a certain hufflepuff” she winked shoving her shoulder at your “shhhhh he’s just nice to look at” you giggled at her and she giggled along “you two would be soo cute” she added dragging you back to the drinks

“let’s take some shots!” she exclaimed handing you two , you took them smiling and shot them back with her, a woo leaving her mouth. “here chaser, chaser!” she shouted handing you another drink this time what looked like a lot of the punch, downing it all she laughed “girl we’re gonna be gone”. looking around you were seeing doubles of everything but didn’t want the night to already end.

“so, are you a virgin?” pansy shouted over the music making your already alcohol flushed face even redder “pansy!! you can’t just ask that!!” you shouted back flustered at the intrusive question, “i’m only curious girl” she giggled and gave you begging eyes “come onnnn” she shook you till you gave in “fine yes i am but don’t tell anyone!” you replied back as lowly as you could over the music

“who would you lose it to?” she giggled “i lost mine to blaise hehe sshhhh” she winked, considering she just told you her secret you felt obligated and just looked around “i mean i guess cedric” you giggled as she pointed at him after your response. before she could say anything else you felt a pair of hands wrap around your waist and drag you off. trying to kick your way out was useless and they brought you to an empty dorm.

through all of this you couldn’t tell who it was kicking and screaming for them to let you go till you heard mattheos voice “puff calm down it’s just me” he sighed putting you down on what you now assumed was his bed “why did you bring me in here that was so scary” you huffed trying to gain your composure. “diggory?” he scoffed not answering your question.

you looked at him confused as to what he was on about “what do you mean? what about cedric” you cocked your head to the side in confusion “you lost your virginity to him??” he questioned stepping closer to you looking rather.. pissed. you just laughed in response “me? lose my virginity to cedric?.. you’re funny” yeah you fantasized about it but it certainly wouldn’t happen.

“what were you talking to pansy about then??” he looked at you unconvinced, “she asked if i lost it and i said no, but id let him take it.-“ you shrugged “besides you know i tell you everything matt i’ve never even had a boyfriend let alone a guy be interested in my virginity” you sighed laying back onto the bed now feeling upset.

you heard mattheo sigh and you picked your head up to look at him, his eyes stared back at you in silence before breaking it “believe me there’s a lot of guys who want to get in your pants” he rubbed his fists and you gave him a confused expression yet again “what are you on about matt?” you were getting sober just from all of this extra mystery.

he walked over to the bed sitting beside you, “listen when we met you were just.. blooming completely and i would be lying if i didn’t say i first went up to you because of your looks.. well overtime you know we became friends and i noticed other guys staring in ways they shouldn’t have been so i had to teach them a lesson.” he looked at you and yo didn’t know how to respond to something like that.

“what exactly are you saying matt?” you didnt understand what he was poking at, did matt mean to say he basically likes you? were you reading too much into this? “look y/n, no one else in this school fucking deserves you. hell i don’t deserve you but i know i can treat you how you need. don’t ask me what took so long to confess to you y/n, but do you feel even remotely the same?” he let it all out quick and fast, and your mouth dropped.

“you want.. me?” you looked at him in disbelief and he just smiled “that’s what that whole speech was about, yeah” he chuckled nervously awaiting your reply “why?” you sighed still slightly unconvinced “have you fucking seen yourself puff? you’re so undeniably gorgeous, i don’t know how i hold myself back from you everyday” he leaned in closer to you making this all seem more real. without thinking you allowed yourself to lean into him, faces and lips meeting for the most magical first kiss you could’ve ever imagined.

“you’re so fucking beautiful y/n” he grabbed your face pulling you closer to him till you straddled over his lap sitting down continuing the now makeout. “this is so much better than.. imagined” you huffed through the kisses. you could already feel mattheos member growing beneath you and you never thought you’d be the one experiencing this from your best friend.

you’d be lying if you didn’t admit to a fantasy or two about him in the past but this was already one thousand times better than ever imagined. mattheos lips kissed their way down your neck leaving small marks tiny moans leaving your mouth, “i need to hear more of that, y/n, let me eat you out.. please i need a taste” he continued his kisses along your neck bringing them back to your lips “i’ve never- mm yes” you replied as his fingers began making circles over your underwear.

“you sound so good fuck” he groaned pulling you off of him and getting off the bed, “you’re sure of this?” he questioned one last time and you just nodded impatiently awaiting his next move. next thing you knew he was yanking you to the edge of his bed and slowly removing your pants and underwear looking up at you from below. “holy fuck puff.. you’re fucking soaking” he breathed out over your pussy sending tingles down your spine.

without warning his mouth met your untouched area and you felt things never imaginable. his tongue made its way around your bulging clit, flicking it up and down and making his way to your entrance sucking and licking “you taste so good holy fuck” he huffed going right back in not even looking up at you, “can i put two fingers” he spoke from your pussy and you couldn’t even properly answer “mm y-yes” you replied between your moans.

you felt his slender fingers teasing your entrance and he slowly began inching one in and out teasingly, “mattheo-“ you huffed and he chuckled shoving both fingers in, loud moan escaping your mouth and this new feeling. he did a few different moments trying to figure out what makes you moan the most, soon his tongue was sucking expertly on your clit as his fingers twisters and curled inside of you.

“matt i want to.. try” you moaned at this pleasure wanting nothing more than to feel him inside of you now. “mm but you’re not ready yet puff” he continued devouring your pussy simply divulging in it as if he’d never eaten anything before. his pace on everything quickened and you were already near your own orgasm, “if you don’t s-stop i’m gonna cum” you moaned loudly trying to control yourself.

“let go for me sweetheart” he sucked harder on your clit, the nickname and action forcing your orgasm to flood over you harder than you’ve ever been able to make yourself experience. your body was shaking and you couldn’t hold your reactions back, mattheo slowly licked your gushing area clean before standing up “mm now i think you’ll be ready soon” he smirked leaning down over you, grabbing your chin and giving you a kiss.

[it-may-be-dull-but-im-determined]

I mean... I have gone through phases of reading something like a hundred books a year for absolutely no reason other than I've been a compulsive reader forever? And that (plus undiagnosed ADHD ahahaa) does tend to make you read some things really really fast? Not everything, and it's not a bad thing as such.

I ran across both of these today and I just

I mean there are a fair few different things going on here:

Big chunks of text aren't the easiest for anyone to read, and on a purely functional level they do tend to interrupt the flow of reading. If you read fast, you do tend to automatically skim longer paras, pick out the odd word and assess how relevant the whole section really is to pay attention to. It's a valid and recognised reading technique (literally how they reach speed reading) and if you do realise you've missed anything important, you can always go back and check (one reason I prefer reading to audiobooks).

That tiktoker is talking pretty specifically about a particular genre, and I don't think it's that controversial to say a fair amount of that genre can be considered skimmable if you're not reading it for the writing per se - romantasy particularly is mainly targeted at adults but a fair amount of it is then written at a YA level. It's deliberately predictable and not designed to be challenging to read (there is a whole other essay to be written about communicating information and which reading level you choose for that). Sometimes you just like the trope or the characters or a setting or something and that's all you want from a (very long) book. Skimming is a totally reasonable way to approach that.

If you have ADHD especially, then a lot of the time it feels like you're trying to outwit and outpace your attention span whenever you start a new book (literally the same reason I have to binge TV shows or I forget they exist between episodes). Sometimes the choice is between finishing the book really really fast before you lose interest, putting it down and completely forgetting what happened (or that it exists at all), or chucking it on the DNF pile where it will taunt you as yet another thing you failed at :)

Which is to say that sometimes skimming is the only technique that lets you finish a book, and finishing a book does your self-esteem a whole world of good if you frequently beat yourself up for being flakey.

I cannot stress enough that most books aren't inherently skimmable but that person is talking about specific books that are, for them. It's not about being disdainful about reading or books, it's about wanting to read and finding a method that works best for you.

These people have to be stopped

[arcanegifs]

This is the last time I'm going to be annoying about this, I swear.

A few examples of that I, a gifmaker, personally love seeing under the tags:

Analysis of said scene, show, or character, especially the long ones going in depth that span like 1000 words

People saying how crisp the GIFs look and how nice the coloring is THANK YOU. ILY GUYS. That's always huge praise for me.

Reacting with how emotional you got with the scene. How painful and emotional or how touching a scene is.

People making funny jokes, memes, comments, etc.

Literally ppl horny posting LMAO. It's super funny to read and I love seeing all the unhinged comments.

Seeing how much you loved the show and its characters

Things I don't like seeing under the tags. And these are just two very specific things:

How much you hate the show, how much you think a scene is bad, how much you hate a character, the ship, the creators, etc. or how much you dont like this ship anymore, calling a ship horrible because ____ reasons. OKAY! I get it! But I don't want to see that. Make your own hate post on your own blog! You're free to have an opinion on how much you hate something. Just do it on your own blog.

Asking why I leave out certain scenes out, why I decided to gif this scene, or not gif more of these characters. Sometimes, I'm just exhausted. I can overlook things. You guys don't know how draining making gifs can get to me, especially the scenes that are really long. But I do it because I LOVE Arcane, the story, and the characters, and the particular scenes that I make gifs of. I have my own biases too. Of course I’m making them first. Please, just make them yourself instead of complaining under the tags of my edits. Yes, I can see them.

Don’t get me wrong, I wholeheartedly appreciate everyone who supports and follows the blog. I want to make a million more HQ gifs of this amazing show, but sometimes, the very rare negativity can still get overwhelming, to the point where it demotivates you.

Arcane is extremely special to me because it's such a fantastic show, and that alone motivates me in trying to create more GIFs. Honestly, if it was any other fandom or show? I would've probably left already. Arcane is THAT great.

I know the block button is there. I use it too, but sometimes, the amount of effort and time you exert to create FOR FREE just isn’t worth it. And that’s why gifmakers and creators stop making things for fandom. It’s not fun anymore. It’s not worth it.

Some people think that making my style of GIFs is easy. Then great! Since you think so, then do it yourself and help create for the fandom too! I wholeheartedly encourage you to do it!

TLDR: Don't be rude on people's fanwork, especially when they are created FOR FREE. If you don’t like their fanwork, you can make them yourself.

[doctorho]

thinking about viktor with a chronically ill reader. you know? we see the vision, right?

it just works.

the thing with chronic pain, illnesses, disabilities, all of that - is that you can't always see them. sometimes you can, sure, you can see the mobility aids and the not-standing-up-for-too-long and the bruising from blood draws and sometimes you can see the compression garments, the pills and inhalers and the i'm fine, i just need a moment-

but most people just don't pay attention to that. or if they do, they don't put the pieces together fast enough to figure out what's really going on under the surface. viktor does, though; he's been there, and most of the time he's way beyond hiding it. or, well, he's way beyond hiding some of it.

walking with a cane was like carrying a neon sign that said yes there is something different here. yes i can't walk the way you can. no it's not going to get better. that last part wasn't directly evident just from him using a cane, sure, but with the way his cane looked, it should've been pretty clear. He had used one practically forever and it had evolved with him, he'd made it as comfortable to use as it could be, had even made it match his uniform.

so yeah. viktor knew what it was like. he'd been the disabled kid forever, even if some of the others were never going to say it out loud. that was just a thing about him, and he knew how hard it could be to navigate something like that in an academic environment. it was hard to admit you couldn't do something, that you had to sit down, that you needed a moment. that sometimes your body was just falling apart for no particular reason and it was just another tuesday.

sometimes it was easier to sit with the pain than take medication in the middle of a meeting, knowing that someone would make a bigger deal out of it than it had to be, even if it was just raising their eyebrows meaningfully. they'd think about you differently afterwards.

he could see you push through it, and he didn't blame you, really, he did that himself, too, but - he didn't want you to hurt yourself. you hadn't been in the lab as long as he had, so he could understand you being a little cautious with how you acted and what you told people, but he didn't want you to feel like you had to put on a show for him. he was, after all, walking around with the equivalent of a light-up sign of i'm disabled, too, and he liked to think of himself as someone who wouldn't come off as judgemental about stuff like that. other stuff, sure, stupid stuff, but not that.

so when he sees you dealing with the telltale signs of being in pain, he conveniently sends jayce and the others to pick up some parts that would take a while to collect and that they wouldn't actually need until the next day. but better prepared, right? what's the harm.

and then he comes to sit next to you and sighs deeply. leans back. relaxes to the best of his abilities. asks if you're alright, and sounds like he already knows the answer.

you sigh too, shift your position, and answer with it's fine. and viktor recognizes the strain in your voice, in your posture, and he knows there's a key difference between this and i'm fine, but he'll take it. it's not what he'd like, but he'll take it.

he leans over to dig around his belongings, and then offers you a bag of candied almonds.

"if you're going to take pain killers, it's better if you eat something first," he says, and you just stare at him. "i assume you haven't taken anything yet. nothing strong enough, at least," he continues, casually, and you take a deep breath and accept the almonds.

he smiles. continues like this is totally normal. "jayce made me start carrying around some food so i could do that. for myself, i mean. but it doesn't hurt to have some snacks around either way, i suppose."

he knows he's skirting around the real topic of the conversation, but he also knows that sometimes people get uncomfortable around his bluntness, and you hadn't exactly told him you were in pain, so he'd understand it if you were a little weirded out. after all, most people didn't notice this stuff. but you haven't run away from him, and you're eating, and then you're digging around your own bag to take your medication, so he'll count this as a win.

thanks, you exhale, handing back the almonds, and he takes a handful of them himself.

"i'm fine, really," you continue, not really looking at him, "it's just hard sometimes."

he nods. it was - even if he didn't know the specifics, he knew that it was true. especially since you had been hiding it from the others. and with something like that, something the others couldn't see, the invisible step to let them see it would grow bigger and bigger with time, when they expected you to be able to do everything they did without a second thought.

he also knows you didn't mean fine in the dictionary definition sense of the word, but more in the this is normal and you don't need to worry -sense. and that's fine. he was used to functioning on different parameters than most people, so this version of fine was good enough.

my body just isn't always very reliable, you explain with a sigh, and that he knows better than well.

he hmms in answer and nods. he knows.

you exhale a small laugh at that.

and he's glad you're relaxing, wants you to be as comfortable here as possible.

"these people are alright," he says casually, "as far as healthy people go."

viktor smiles a little.

another win for him.

and then he sits with you, talking and not talking and enjoying the quiet comfort if it all. and then he makes up some excuse so you don't have to keep working yet. he was well aware what it was like trying to work through the pain, waiting for the medication to kick in, and he wouldn't exactly recommend it. besides, as a rule, you were more likely to make mistakes if you were thinking through a layer of pain, and that was just plain bad planning. it made much more sense to just take a break and continue when you felt better. in fact, he was in dire need of a caramel latte and a pastry right now, do you want anything?

and after that it just... sort of falls into place. you're more relaxed around him. and the others, too, but he's the only one that really gets it. doesn’t make a whole thing out of it when you need to sit down for a moment or take a break while your pain killers kick in. he's just there.

he knows what it's like, and that feels like an invisble curtain lifted from between you and him, and it's just easy. you don't have to pretend you're doing better than you actually are and he doesn’t hide it when he's in pain, either.

most people don't see it, but there's a mutual understanding there; yeah, sometimes life sucks and sometimes you're in pain and no it's not fair that sometimes your body is falling apart and life just keeps going. you can't do all the things you want to do but you still have to show up for the other life-stuff and if you took a day off every time you felt bad you would never get anything done and it just never stops.

but sometimes there's someone who'll sit through it with you without judgement. offer a warm drink and a snack and some understanding.

[inkedbydesire]

Extortion (18+)

Jimmy Uso x Black Fem Reader

Warning: 18+ Content, detailed storyline with SMUT, MINORS DO NOT ENTER

Summary: Eight months into your relationship with Jonathan Fatu (aka Jimmy Uso), things start to feel strained. When you first met Jonathan, you had no idea who he was, as you weren't into sports, so you had no knowledge of his WWE legacy or the spotlight it would bring. As his girlfriend, you were now facing pressures you never expected, and the constant attention was beginning to take a toll on your mental health. In an effort to reconnect and help you clear your head, Jonathan decides to take you on a five-day trip to Costa Rica, promising a distraction-free escape. At a private villa, you both agree to turn off your phones and focus on nothing but each other. On the morning of your final day, you and Jonathan get carried away on the balcony, unaware that you're being watched…

Word Count: 4.6k

A/N: This will be my first shot at writing on here so please bear with me. I apologize in advance for any grammar errors or typos.

*************************************************

"I just feel like you always mad at me over some shit that I can't fully control"

There it was. You and Jonathan were finally having the conversation you'd both been avoiding since arriving in Costa Rica four days ago. The first few days had been filled with beach relaxation, dining out, and exploring shops—anything to distract from the real reason for this sudden vacation. But now, on the sun-drenched balcony of the private villa you and Jonathan were sharing, it was time to confront the elephant in the room and address the growing distance between you two.

"I just didn't think it would be this hard Jon." You stated to him as you shifted your eyes from the intensity of his stare down to the watermelon you were currently having for breakfast. You picked up your fork and pushed the pieces around for a split second before deciding you weren't hungry.

"You didn't think what would be this hard baby?" Jonathan's voice was soft as he leaned closer, his cold pancakes and bacon long forgotten as he fully focused on nothing but you.

"Being in this relationship." you confessed, finally voicing what you'd been holding in for months. You loved him deeply and understood that all relationships had their challenges, but sometimes it felt like things were harder than they needed to be.

If you'd known then what you knew now, eight months ago, when you met Jonathan at the gym, you might have thought twice about giving him your number. But as the memory crept back into your mind you knew you were lying to yourself. He had you the moment his eyes locked on yours.

8 months ago you decided to fulfill your cliché New Year's resolution of hitting the gym more. You were desperately in need of a fresh start so you picked a new gym that was miles away from your old one. On one particular night, you couldn't fall asleep no matter what you tried, so around 1 am, you drove to that gym to see what it was like. Luckily for you when you arrived there were only about 3 other people in attendance. The normal people obviously sleeping at this hour. You quickly walked over and blended in with the others as you placed your AirPods in and began your routine.

About 20 minutes into your workout, that was when you first noticed him.

You were minding your business until you glanced over and almost choked on the water you were sipping. Damn, you thought, as your eyes involuntarily traveled from his neatly braided hair down to his broad shoulders. He was lifting weights, his back flexing with every rep unbeknownst to him feeding into your weird quirk for backs. If he looked this good from behind you couldn't help but wonder how much better it got from the front.

You soon got the answer to your inquiry as the man abruptly turned around and caught you staring. He indeed did look better from the front something you weren't at all surprised about. Your heart fell to your ass as you wondered if he could feel you watching him. Was that why he turned around so suddenly? You awkwardly held eye contact with him for a few seconds then sheepishly went back to your routine. But still, you just couldn't keep your eyes off of him. You felt like a creep as every so often your eyes would wander over to him only to be caught again and again. But yet ....... you swore that some of those times he was already the first one looking.

On maybe your 5th time of being caught he surprisingly started walking over to you. When he made it to where he was standing right in front of you, you removed your AirPods to give him your undivided attention.

"You don't have to be scared to approach me." He said his voice deep and playful sending a shiver through you.

"I don't bite or nothing." He added with a smile that made your knees almost give out on you. You assumed that he was boldly saying that you shouldn't be afraid to shoot your shot. But then he soon revealed that he was a Pro Wrestler who was signed with the WWE and he thought you were eyeballing him because you were too shy to ask for an autograph. It was a funny misunderstanding and you quickly explained to him that you didn't know him from anywhere which he took absolutely no offense to as you both laughed it off. You still had to come up with a reason for why you were watching him though. You opted to go with honesty and told him it was because you found him attractive. You weren't normally that up front but somehow this perfect stranger was already making you feel comfortable. He took the compliment with another flash of that breathtaking smile of his then introduced himself as Jonathan Fatu. You in return introduced yourself as Y/N and you guys chatted for a spell before he admitted that he found you attractive also. Before you left the gym he asked if he could keep in contact with you and that's where things started.

You soon found out that on top of being violently fine, Jonathan was also funny, kind, humble and extremely attentive. Everything that you could've asked for in a man and definitely a major step up from the last person you were entertaining. Things were perfect in your eyes with Jonathan when your relationship was kept between you two. But then 4 months into dating he wanted you to come to one of his matches. He ended up getting a little too friendly with you in front of the cameras and that's when people started talking. Then the problems came. First, it started with some of Jonathan's overzealous fans taking a special interest in your relationship. They started feeling the need to tag you in everything and bombard you daily with unsolicited opinions. Most of his fans were kind enough, but the trolls were relentless. Some even blamed you for Jonathan not dating one of the female wrestlers they thought he belonged with. Then came the gossip blogs getting too invested in your personal life. All of this unwanted attention was solely based on the fact that you were now Jimmy Uso's girlfriend.

You tried your best to ignore everything. You didn't enjoy being in those crowded arenas but you could tell that Jonathan loved when you came to see him. So you did that for him. You powered through all of the invasive and sometimes hateful comments. You powered through Jonathan's hectic schedule. Out of a 7-day week, you were lucky if you would get 2 full days with him but you had fallen in love so you were willing to deal with it.

But a few weeks close to a month ago your facade started to crack. You found yourself snapping at Jonathan, holding grudges, and letting your frustrations fester instead of speaking up. But you were scared. Scared that your feelings wouldn't be validated, that maybe Jonathan would think you were just looking for a reason to complain.

Of course, like most humans, he had his spare share of flaws but above it all he was genuinely such a loving man. He treated you like you were his whole world.

Like now, for instance. He sensed that something was wrong with you and cleared his whole schedule, something that was nearly impossible to do, so y'all could have this time together. So why couldn't you just suck it up?

"You know what...... never mind Jon. It's not that important," you spoke to him, plastering a fake smile on your face deciding that sucking it up was exactly what you were gonna do. Here you had this beautiful view and this beautiful man. Why ruin it over something so trivial?

"I've just been a little stressed out lately but it's fine," you said and before Jonathan could respond you stood to your feet. You fixed your robe as you slowly walked over to the railing of the balcony. You let your eyes roam over the awe-inducing scenery as you worked on swallowing your feelings ..... again. But it wasn't long before you felt Jonathan's hands on your hips gently pulling you into his arms.

"Nah don't do that Y/N."  He said, his breath warm against your ear. "If it's got you feeling a way towards me then it is important."

You two stood there silently for a beat then he grabbed your hand and led you over to the couch that was placed in the corner of the balcony. He sat down and then silently tapped his lap indicating that he wanted you to join him. Without protest, you straddled his lap, your body instinctively seeking comfort in his presence.

"Get it off your chest." Jonathan urged his dark eyes locking on yours as you placed your hands on his shoulders. You signed, your heart beginning to pound but you knew that you had to speak up if you two were ever going to reach a resolution.

"I love you, Jon. You know that," you said beginning to speak freely without worrying too much about the consequences. "But it's just that at times everything that comes with being with you ....... it all gets to be too much"

"The lights.... the cameras.... the attention. I just wanted you, Jonathan. I never wanted all of this. Before you, my life was so simple. I could say, go, and do whatever I wanted. But now I have all of these eyes on me. " you laid out to him as he focused on you intently. His eyes caught your every move as he silently allowed you to pour out your heart without any interruption.

"I know you can't change who you are Jon and I wouldn't want you to. I love that you get to live out your family's legacy. But this lifestyle..... your lifestyle .... I don't think it's for me." you finalized what you were feeling to him and now all you had to do was wait to see how he was going to react.

"So.... wait a minute..... what does that mean?" Jonathan asked as you watched confusion arise on his beautiful brown features. He adjusted you on his lap as he tightened his grip around your waist.

"You saying you don't want to be with me no more Y/N"

Visual hurt flashed in his eyes as he searched your face for understanding. This was another reason why you'd been afraid to bring it up. You didn't want him to jump to conclusions. But you understood his reaction. Jonathan couldn't change who he was, and what he represented meant the world to him. If you couldn't handle the spotlight that came with being committed to him, maybe the only option was to walk away. But despite that, you also knew that you were in too deep to go anywhere now.

"No, that's not what I'm saying, Jon. I'm just telling you what's been bothering me." you quickly reassured him as you moved your hand up to gently cup the side of his face. You felt his body relax again under your touch.

"I won't lie like the thought hasn't crossed my mind though." You admitted to him. "But I'm in love with you, Jonathan. And that's bigger than anything else I may be feeling."

You sighed then said, "I just get a little overwhelmed sometimes." You ran your fingers through his hair, one of your favorite things about him, before dropping your hand back down to rest on his shoulder.

"You need to tell me when you're feeling like that Y/N so we can figure it out together," Jonathan spoke, his tone soft and comforting. "And when I can I'll take you away from it for a little while."

"I'm use to my lifestyle 'cause I've been in it all of my life but I know everything can't be easy for you 100 percent of the time. But don't bottle that shit up. Just talk to me whenever you feeling like you can't handle it. Alright?" he told you, his eyes reflecting how much he meant every word. You nodded at him in response feeling 10 times better now that you two had finally confronted the issue. Of course, talking about it wouldn't make things cease to exist. Tomorrow Costa Rica would be over and the real world would be waiting. But at least you knew now that whenever things got too tough you could have a moment with Jonathan about it.

"Thank you for understanding Jon. I feel so much better now." you expressed to him. Feeling so overcome with gratitude you tilted your head down and placed a light peck on his lips that he surprisingly didn't return. He sat there in a dead silence that began to make you get all anxious about the situation again.

"I don't" he finally spoke. His face was stern and his dark eyes glared into yours. You searched his facial features for a hint of amusement but found none.

"I don't like you having crazy ass thoughts about not wanting to be with me." He spoke as he moved his hands from around your waist to slowly trail them up your robe all the while keeping his eyes locked on yours. As his big hands gripped your thighs with a possessive firmness, you instantly knew exactly where his mind had shifted. And you were 100 percent with it.

"You gotta make that shit up to me." He said with a smile as he took hold of the string that was holding your robe in place.

"I'll try" you responded playfully as he fully undid the string.

"You gone do more than that." He commented as he pulled the top half of your robe down your shoulders revealing your breast to the open air because all you had on underneath was a pair of panties. Gently grabbing you by the neck with one hand Jonathan pulled your mouth to his. He ran his tongue along your bottom lip before closing in on the kiss. As you two fell into a familiar rhythm you felt his other hand moving up your stomach until it reached one of your breasts. As he slowly started caressing the nipple with his thumb his mouth moved from yours down to your neck. After planting a few kisses along your collarbone he then moved his full attention down to your chest.

"Ummm" a soft moan left your lips as his warm tongue connected with your right nipple as he used his hand to play with and tease the other. You were so wrapped up in pleasure that it barely crossed your mind that you and Jonathan were basically outside right now. You had never engaged in sex in a place that wasn't closed off. Whether it was a bedroom, a bathroom, a car, whatever. Each place had always had a door to close you two off from the rest of the world. So being out on this balcony was a new experience for you. You thought that maybe you should tell Jonathan to move things inside but you didn't want to interrupt the current state he had you in. Besides the villa was private. The workers were on call so you and Jonathan were the only two in the house. There was nothing to stress about. So you allowed your mind and body to be completely immersed in the moment as you felt your wetness and desperate need for Jonathan grow.

"You been playing with me since we got here but I got you," Jonathan told you bringing your mind back to him as he tilted his head back to look at you. You knew that he was referring to the fact that you hadn't done anything sexual with him since the plane landed. In your previous relationship, sex was used to cover up most of the issues you and that person had. Nothing was ever discussed, talked out, or even really resolved. You didn't want to start that habit with Jonathan so you thought it would be better to abstain from doing anything with him on this little vacation until things were figured out. It wasn't easy because Jonathan tried every trick in the book but you stood your ground spamming the hell out of that I'm just not in the mood excuse. Which was definitely a bald-faced lie. You've wanted Jonathan in the worst way since you guys arrived. So bad that you even started dreaming about it. Lucky for you things were okay enough for you to now indulge. So indulge… you would.

"Take these off," Jonathan told you as he reached down and tugged at the brim of your panties. Obeying him you removed yourself from his lap and stood to your feet. You took your robe the rest of the way off letting it hit the balcony floor followed by your underwear. The sun and Jonathan's eyes were glued to your naked body as he took you in. 8 months later he still had that same hunger in his eyes each time you two found yourselves in this position. Looking into your eyes Jonathan then stood to his feet also. His 6'3 frame towered over you as he came out of his boxers and the grey sweatpants he had on. You both were now naked as the day you came into this world out on a balcony in Costa Rica but that was the last thing on your minds. The sexual tension was thick in the air as Jonathan sat back down on the couch while taking hold of your hand. He tried pulling you back down on his lap but you had something else in mind. You reached past him and grabbed one of the pillows off of the couch. You dropped the pillow down on the floor between his legs before dropping down to your knees on top of it. You watched Jonathan run his tongue across his lips at the sight as you took his dick into your hands.

"You look so fucking good." He complimented you as you slowly stroked his dick up and down with your manicured fingers while keeping your eyes on his. Deciding not to tease him any longer you shifted your focus down to what was in your hands. Picking up a little more speed with your stroking you took the tip of his dick into your mouth and started slowly running your tongue around it.

"Shit" you heard Jonathan grunt as you took as much of him as you could into your mouth coating him in your saliva. You suddenly felt him grab hold of the braids you got solely for coming to Costa Rica. He gathered them into a makeshift ponytail as you went to work on his dick. Jonathan moaned and cussed as you completely lost yourself in pleasing him. His moans were always the most intoxicating thing to you so it wasn't long before you felt yourself throbbing with urgent need. Not being able to resist you let go of his dick with one hand to reach down to please yourself while tending him. You gently rub your clit as you took some time to spit on Jonathan's dick before taking him into your mouth again. You shoved him so far into your mouth that his dick was damn near down your throat but at times like this, you didn't care if you suffocated. Jonathan used your hair to guide you up and down to his liking while your fingers slipped over your clit as your wetness became almost unbearable. You knew Jonathan's body well at this point so you knew when he was near his climax. You felt that feeling coming as he gripped your hair tighter and barely could sit still on the couch.

"Fuck Y/N" he grunted softly before shooting his seed into your mouth. You caught as much as you could and collected the rest before swallowing.

"Come here" Jonathan told you while helping you up. Neither one of you were anywhere close to being done with the session yet so within seconds you found yourself sliding down onto his dick. This was what your body was craving the most and yet the feeling was still overpowering as you came all the way down on his full length.

"S-shit" you let out as your body shuddered at the feeling of him having him inside of you. Jonathan's hand was back around your throat again as you begin to bounce up and down on his dick. How wet you were could be heard as Jonathan moved his hips up to meet you halfway every single time.

"Look at me Y/N" you heard his voice say not even realizing that your eyes were closed. You were so focused on trying not to cum too soon as his dick repeatedly connected with your g-spot. You listened to him and opened your eyes to the best of your ability and found his eyes fixated on your face like they always were anytime he had you in this position. He leaned in and pulled you into a kiss as he wrapped his other arm around your waist. Holding you tighter he picked up his pace and began to pound into your wetness from below.

"J-Jon" you moaned his name as you broke the kiss. You were in fear that you were going to bite down and draw blood from his lip something you couldn't do especially with his profession.

"Look at you," Jonathan said as he watched the faces you made as you took every inch of him.

"You not going nowhere .... you love this dick too much" he gloated. In response, your eyes retreated to the back of your head. Jonathan who always spoke such sweet words to you turned into a totally different person when he was fucking you. And you enjoyed every minute of it.

"Tell me you love this dick Y/N" he demanded from you as his grip on your neck got tighter and your need to cum grew stronger.

"I l-love it J-Jon" you muttered followed by many profanities as his pace quickened and you fought to keep up. You could feel your walls clenching around him indicating that you were losing the fight. Your climax was so close that you could feel it darting up your legs.

"I can't hear you. Speak the fuck up." Jonathan commanded.

"I love it" you whined out louder as your climax reached the pit of your stomach.

"FUCK ... I love it." came out louder as you bounced on Jonathan's dick with more determination than ever as your whole body became heated all over.

"Cum for me then." He told you as he released your neck and reached down to massage your clit to aid you in reaching your peak. It only took a minute of feeling Jonathan's fingers on your clit combined with his dick hitting your g spot before you found yourself making a mess on his lap. Your climax hit you full force as your body twitched and shook as Jonathan's dick became drenched in your cum. Not long afterwards he cursed and shot his load into you while repeatedly saying your name. You both were breathless and it took serval minutes to come back down to earth. Once you did you cleaned yourselves up and decided to spend the rest of your last day in Costa Rica out and about.

********************************************

Day 6 came quicker than you wanted but it was time to pack for your flight back to the United States in a few hours.

"Shit, I hope I didn't miss nothing too important," Jonathan said while you sat on the bed folding clothes and putting them back into your suitcase while he turned on his phone which had been off for the last 5 days. You both made a mutual agreement to ignore the rest of the world so your phones were shut off immediately after arriving. You tried to convince Jonathan that ditching his phone wasn't needed because you understood that he was a very busy person but he insisted on focusing on nothing but you on this trip.

Your phone remained shut off on the nightstand because you didn't feel as compelled to get back on it as him. Your mom and best friend could wait. 

"Damn," you commented to Jonathan while lifting your brows at him because when he did power his phone back on it began to bing and buzz in his hand nonstop. 

"Shit, I got like 30 missed calls from Tamina," he told you referring to his manager.

"Go handle it I'll finish packing for you." You told him. You knew that if she called that many times then it had to be something beyond urgent. Jonathan left the room as you continued to collect yours and his belongings. As you moved around the room you wondered what could be so urgent while at the same time hoping it wasn't that big of a deal. It took a little over 30 minutes for Jonathan to return to the room. When he came scrolling back in the look on his face told you that whatever Tamina was calling him about was indeed a big ass deal.

"Baby sit down." He told you.

"What is it Jon?" you asked him as you ignored his request for you to sit down.

"I don't know how to explain or tell you this so here," he said while holding out his phone to you. You were confused and your heartbeat quickened as you took hold of his phone. When you looked down the first thing you saw was what looked like an email with a few attachments.

"One of the workers must've tipped somebody off or something. I don't know how this shit happened. This villa was supposed to be private." Jonathan said to you as you read the email and became mortified. Suddenly you started to feel a little dizzy as you tried to process what you just read. Whoever sent the email was demanding 50 thousand dollars to be sent to them or they were going to sell some inappropriate images of you and Jonathan to the highest bidder. All you could think was who, what, and how? On top of being modified, you became sick to your stomach as you opened the attached files and saw pictures of you and Jonathan out on the balcony yesterday morning. The pictures were slightly blurry and looked like they were taken from a very far distance. But because of Jonathan's hair and his distinct tribal tattoos, it was easy to tell that it was either him or his twin brother Joshua. This was just yesterday morning so you wondered how in the hell could someone get ahold of something like this so quickly. But then you connected that if the person took those pictures yesterday morning then they had the whole rest of the day to send the information around. They did this without you and Jonathan knowing a thing because your phones were off.

Overcome with a feeling that you couldn't put into words your breathing became labored as you could visibly see the room start spinning before you.

"Baby, are you alright?" Jonathan's voice questioned you. It sounded like it came from a great distance, but he was standing right in front of you. The room began to spin faster as you stumbled back. Jonathan moving closer to you was the last thing you remembered before things went completely black.

[honeyjars-sims]

3.37 Soulmates

Today I’m spending some time with Pops. While I was camping, he found out that the LGBT center where he’s been working forever will be closing in just a couple weeks and he’ll be out of a job. It wasn’t unexpected–they’ve been having funding issues for a while–but it still sucks. Unfortunately, Dad is in San My for a gig this weekend, so I figure Pops could use some company.

“I’m really sorry about your job,” I tell him as he finishes washing the dishes. “Are you guys gonna be okay?”

“We have a good amount in savings, and I’ve already been in contact with someone at the LGBT center in Del Sol. They’ve all but offered me a position there that pays more and has more flexibility.”

“Wow, that’s great! So I guess you won’t have much of a reason to stay in Evergreen Harbor, then.”

“Not really. We could probably find a smaller place closer to the LGBT center.”

I know what that means. There’s no reason my parents should have to pay for another 3 bedroom house when their kids are grown. “I guess it’s time for me to find a place, too.”

“I’m sorry to spring it on you like this, but I think you’re ready for it.”

“Yeah, I am. I really appreciate you guys taking me in for as long as you did.”

“You’ve come a long way, Johnny. You’ll be just fine.”

“What about you? You’ll be all alone when Dad is traveling.”

“That’s the good thing about this job. I’ll be able to work remotely some, so I can travel with Dad sometimes.”

“Oh, that’s good then. I know it’s not easy for you two to be away from each other.” I pause. There’s something that’s been on my mind since I came back from my camping trip, and Pops seems like the perfect person to help me figure it out. “Do you think you and Dad are soulmates?”

“Soulmates? Hmm.” He stops for a moment to consider. “No, I don’t think we are,” he finishes.

“Really? Why not?” I'm taken aback by his answer. What does he mean, they're not soulmates?

“Well, you remember how Dad and I met, right?”

“Yeah, you saw each other at a protest and sparks flew or something cheesy like that.”

“Mm-hmm. But I don’t think I’ve ever told you the full story of what happened that night. Before I ended up at the protest, I was at your mom’s apartment–she told me she needed to talk to me about something. Instead, I told her I was gay and couldn’t be in a relationship with her anymore, and I left–without finding out that she was pregnant.”

“Oh. She was going to tell you that night?”

“Yes, until she decided that I wasn’t the kind of man that should raise children. If things had been different–if she had told me she was pregnant before I came out to her–I would have stayed.”

“You would’ve kept pretending to be straight?” I can't imagine what his life would have been like but it sounds pretty terrible. And to think he would have chosen that because of me and Chantal?

“For a while at least. And who knows, maybe eventually I would have found someone else to love and I’d still be happy. But I wouldn’t have met your dad that night.”

“Ok, but that didn’t happen. What does that have to do with being soulmates?”

“Because, Johnny, if I’d stayed with her a little longer then the things that happened to you and Chantal at your mom’s house wouldn’t have happened. I would have been there to keep you safe and well cared for. I just can’t believe that your Dad and I were meant to be together when the circumstances that led to us meeting were also the circumstances that led to my children being hurt and neglected.”

“Well, maybe it’s fate and you would’ve met a different way.” I'm having a hard time wrapping my head around what Pops is saying. A world where he and Dad aren't together just doesn't make sense.

“Maybe. But I don’t think any of these hypotheticals really matter. Like you said, that’s not what happened. What matters is that today, in the here and now, I can’t imagine my life without him. Any reason in particular why you’re thinking about soulmates?” He raises his eyebrows knowingly.

“I guess it’s more that I’m wondering how you know if someone is the right person for you, but it kind of sounds like it’s not that simple.”

“Well, a sign isn’t going to drop down from the heavens that says ‘This person is the one,’ but it doesn’t have to be complicated. Find the person you can’t imagine your life without. I don’t know if that’s what you were wanting to hear, but I hope it answers your question.”

Find the person you can’t live without. Maybe there aren’t signs falling from the sky, but those words are about as close as I’ll get. “It does," I tell him. "It may not be the answer I was expecting, but I think it cleared something up for me.”

“I see. Do you want to talk about it?"

Normally I would jump at the chance to get some input, but now I don't feel like I need it. I shake my head. “No, I think I can handle it from here.” The thought makes me nervous, but I can’t avoid this. I need to talk to Lacey.

Previous | Beginning of story | Beginning of chapter | Next

[zepskies]

@lamentationsofalonelypotato

Omg yay!! I'm so excited to dive into your thoughts on Part 2. As you saw, it's a bit of an emotional rollercoaster. 😅

Alright it is devastating right off the bat and I know, I know I should be worried about her and I am. I am SO worried, but my mind completely went somewhere else when Dean PICKED HER UP. The man is so strong and I am just...

LOL girl I don't blame you for being distracted. The mental image of Dean manhandling in Protective Mode does things to me too. 🤣

I was prepared for this coming but dang... "I hope you've learned your damn lesson" is a line that breaks my heart more than I should. It cuts to the quick for me, because to me it's worse than just saying "I told you not to do something." It's not heartless, but it's enough of a rendition of it that it just makes you go "oh wow."

I love this observation. That's exactly what I felt inherently when I was writing that line. It felt more powerful to me than "I told you so" or the like. It has the feeling of that, but with more of an edge, even though you know he cares about her.

I was literally screaming. It's like he wants her to kill him. I know that Dean loves her so much but oh my goodness it's about to get so real for him. Man is about to be torn to shreds.

LMAO I remember someone saw the preview of Part 2 and commented, "the quiet, but devastating anger he'd be reckoned with if he said that to me." And I was like, YEP, that's exactly it. Mans playing with his life. 😅😅😅

You just wanna go:

Even though she's upset, Dean is still her best friend and the man she loves and even though he's the one that made her feel this way, she still wants to be comforted by his presence. I always think that, this particular thing is so bittersweet to read about in relationships. Or at least that's how I took this bit 😅.

That's precisely how I intended it! Now looking back, I feel like I should have had her leave him by himself in his room to sleep in another room. But at the time I was writing, I was thinking that for her in particular, despite this being the biggest fight they've had so far in their relationship, he's still the one that makes her feel safe after a bad hunt. 💙

Side note: I am happy that the reader didn't have to tell the woman about her son. That would have broken me to read that especially after the reader promised that they would find her son in part one.

Oh my God, yeah. I considered having her be the one to face her "mistake" and talk to the mother, but I felt that having Sam take that on would be better, even as it added to the reader's guilt (and it would keep the story moving).

Oh my word. I love you friend, but WHY!? Dang it, this pricked at my heart. It's so good, so heart wrenching. I feel so bad for him, but it really just reinforces why he "lost it" with the reader earlier. Goodness the trope of the reader getting yelled at by someone who loves them about putting themselves in danger really is just such a good one for Dean and you do it so well.

Lmaooo I knowww, I'm sorry! All the angsty feels in this one. 😭 Now you see the full weight of why Dean popped off the way he did. He just feels things so deeply, it comes out sometimes in anger, when at the root of it all, it's fear.

Thank you though for that compliment! I think this is the only time I've written that Dean trope. Because I honestly think it's overused, but I tried to do it in a way that made sense for the ultimate growth of their relationship and who Dean is.

His apology is really just pricking at my heart. It's so good, so forthcoming so honest. And the thought that he was "better off alone" is so on brand for him. I know that we've talked about that before, but it really does fit him, and I love how you weave it into this fic.

Aww thank you! 😭😭 Weirdly enough, that was one of my favorite parts to write? Maybe I just like the heartfelt hurt/comfort breaking into fluff moments. The "better off alone" thing I thought was implied throughout the later seasons of the show after Dean lets go of Lisa and Ben, so I wanted to explore that deeper here, even though it hurt my heart to write it. 💙

She's crying... I'm crying. It's really just tears all around and such a good moment. Also the him saying "You don't have to cry for that"... YES SHE DOES.

Everyone's crying!! 😭 YES ABSOLUTELY SHE DOES -- and she's a verified crier. I see a lot of fics where the reader is tough as nails, "doesn't cry very often," but I wanted to create a reader character who is a badass, but still has a soft heart. (Latinas also can be very emotional, but not to say we're adhering to stereotypes around here LOL. 🤣🤣)

This is just overall a really wonderful vulnerable moment that you've captured that feels real for both the reader and Dean. Especially when she talks about "working with my heart, not my head." I think that if it were me, I would also be "working with my heart." I don't think that I'd be able to take myself emotionally out of the situation that they're in all the time because they're hunters.

Thank you so much!! 🙏🏽🥹🥹 Yeah same, and it's definitely a contrast with Dean, who obviously cares about helping people and takes way too much responsibility on his shoulders, but he's been doing this so long and seen so much that he's learned to compartmentalize a bit more.

Hoping for some FORESHADOWING 🙏🏻👀

Oh girl yesss! If you make it to the last two stories in the series, remember this moment. 😏💜

Also the salsa lesson is just so cute. And the way you took a really emotional moment to a cute salsa dance to a steamy session to a giggly awkward moment is great. The transitions make it seamless. And the song choices were perfect! When the reader was describing what the song meant I was like, "oh yeah, that's him right there. There's the man officer." lmao 🤣

Ahaha thank you so much!! I LOVE me some salsa music, and it was a fun challenge to try and transition between these scenes. From one writer to another, I always appreciate those "technical" observations. 💓💓💓

Oh big YEP!! "Devorame Otra Ves" was the first song I thought of when the salsa idea came. Dean, in fact, is that guy. 🤣🤣

I was again so emotional reading this, because oh my word, poor Dean just reliving the moments where the reader almost died.

Sorry for jerking the angsty chain again there! 🤣 Poor guy, he went through an ordeal just as much as she did.

And also the final scene 👀🌶️ I should have known from the gif at the beginning tbh lol.

LMAO Oh yeah, the gif was a dead giveaway for what was coming later on. 😏 And thank you for shouting out the “What, now you’re shy?” line! It's a special kind of intimate, I thought, for her to be kind of embarrassed about what she's just done, but Dean like, "uh-uh, you're not getting away that easily." 😂😂

Also I love you for using a Chicago Fire gif!! loll Was a big fan of that show back in the day.

Not to mention that the sex was also giggly towards the end and I really just love that. And the love confessions KNOCKED ME OUT.

Awww thank you! I love me some fun giggly romantic smut. 😂

Fun fact on her confession! When she says I love you twice, she's actually saying it in two different ways:

I love you, you’d said. I love you ("te amo," you're my love) and I love you ("te quiero," you're my family), more than you can believe and understand.

Oh I'm riding a train of emotions, and all of this was so good. Especially Sam walking in on them. I was laughing so hard at Dean's reaction:

Lol but seriously, I really appreciate that, thank you!! This story was definitely an emotional rollercoaster. I'm so glad you enjoyed it though!! 💕 ...And Sam's little mishap LOL. Dean has very little shame -- something he's going to prove later on again in the series. 😂

It's all wonderful my friend! And I can't wait to read another fic from this universe! 😊

Thank you SO very much!! Honestly you don't know how happy it makes me that you're enjoying this series so far -- and spoiling me with such lovely and thoughtful feedback. 🥰💕💕

Devour Me - Part 2

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Plus-Sized/Latina!Reader 

Summary: When you and Dean start to press each other’s buttons, both of your tempers ignite. To make up for it, you give him an impromptu salsa dancing lesson…one he didn’t exactly ask for. (18+)

AN: Here's Part 2! **Read Devour Me: Part 1

Song Inspo: “Yo No Se Mañana” by Luis Enrique. But really it’s “Ven Devórame Otra Ves” by Lalo Rodriguez. (You’ll see why.) 🤭

Word Count: 5,400

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Blood, character death and violence, smutty smut, angst, Dominican slang, and tons of sexy fluff.

☕ Midnight Espresso Masterlist

Part 2: "Telenovela Style"

Your resulting scream of agony is as unforgiving as the ground when your knees buckle, hitting the hard cement.

Andy grips you with the strength of a monster. 

Then he holds you down as he drinks your blood. 

No matter how you struggle and whimper, you can’t push him off, and you’re getting weaker by the second.

Until Andy is ripped away from your neck, and is taken care of the way all vampires must be. He doesn’t even feel the blade coming. 

When you’re able to look up, Dean stands above you with thinly veiled fury. He doesn’t have time to consider what he’s just done. 

He bends to gather you up into his arms, all the while trying to stamp down the panic clenching his heart. He calls your name, but you can only make weak sounds as your bleary eyes meet his. 

“Dean,” you manage. The ragged wound in your neck is bleeding profusely down your chest and shoulder, seeping into your shirt. He takes your hand and clamps it hard against your neck, even though it makes you whimper.

“Gotta stop the bleeding,” he says, apologetic but firm. “Keep pressing.”

In your stupor of pain, you don’t realize that your screech woke the entire nest. Dean has to lock up his worry; he looks up and finds his brother and Cas already fighting a hoard of angry vampires. 

Dean carries you over to them and lays you down against the wall with the other humans. He keeps a protective line in front of you, but he decapitates a vampire before she can sink her fangs into Sam next.

The two of them work together, and with Castiel’s smiting power behind them, the angel and the two men are able to clear the rest of the nest. 

By the end, only you and two of the women being held captive are still alive. The third girl’s heart just finally gave out. Sam takes the survivors to the nearest hospital. 

Meanwhile, Castiel approaches where you sit up against the inside of the barn, barely awake, while Dean kneels with you, holding you to his chest. He meet’s Cas’s blue-eyed request with a nod. So Cas stretches out a hand and touches two fingers to your forehead. 

You’re healed in an instant. Dean marvels, like he always does when Cas displays his power. Dean is able to breathe a little easier, the vice grip on his heart easing as he touches your neck.

The tan skin is once again smooth, if still stained with blood. You blink back into wakeful consciousness. 

He shifts so he can see your face. “You okay?” 

You meet his eyes but can only nod. His jaw is still tight and tense, and you can’t blame him. 

You know you’ve messed up. Big time. You nearly got everyone killed, including yourself…and now, you have to tell a mother that her son is dead. 

Dean helps you up, holding you by your arms and waist until you’re steady on your feet. You have a hard time meeting his eyes, but when open your mouth to apologize, he beats you to it. 

“I hope you’ve learned your damn lesson,” he says. 

Your gaze snaps up to his. “Excuse me?”

Dean’s hands go to his hips as his brows raise at you. 

“Next time, when I tell you to hang back, I mean that shit. Hang the hell back,” he all but growls. 

You tilt your head at him as your irritation begins to spark. Meanwhile, Castiel is the one who backs up as he glances between you and Dean uncertainly.

“I made a mistake, but that doesn’t give you the right to tell me what to do,” you shoot back. “I was a hunter long before I met you.” 

“Yeah, well, color me surprised that you’ve made it this long,” he snaps. 

Your temper flares hotter. “You know, you’re not so goddamn perfect either.” 

“Never said I was,” Dean says. “But when my gut tells me something ain’t right, I need you to fucking listen. Otherwise, we get a day like today.”

His words are edged with grit by the end of his little rant, and you don’t appreciate it. Your lips purse in anger.

“I don’t care what that legendary gut tells you,” you sass back. “I’m not a little girl, and you’re not my damn father!”

Dean raises incredulous brows at the way you’re shouting at him. He crosses his arms. 

“What’s this, some kind of Latina temper?” he asks snidely. 

You truly become incensed at that. 

“Oh, you want to take it there?” you ask, as your eyes narrow. “Que sin vergüenza tú eres. Sigue jodiendo conmigo, coño. Entonces tú vas a ver quien soy yo.”

Dean won’t admit it, but in that moment, he’s a bit intimidated by the quiet threat in your voice. Still, his fuse is lit, and he’s way beyond curbing his internal filter.

“Oh, I’m sorry, does this telenovela-style tongue lashing come with subtitles?” he snarks. 

You let out an incredulous breath. Your eyes begin to sting.

“You’re such an asshole!” you shout back. There, understand that?

You turn away from him before your frustrated tears can fall, but you stop short once you notice Castiel dragging out the bodies of the dead…including Andy. Your throat constricts, and you begin to stalk out of the barn. 

Dean calls your name in frustration. 

“What?” you hiss. 

The only thing that makes him hesitate is seeing the state of you when you turn back around. His anger crumbles, and maybe something in him breaks when he sees your tears. They’ve welled up in your eyes, and a few of them carve a path down your cheeks. 

You’re still covered in your own blood, and he hates it. He hates it more than anything. 

Later, you see the state of yourself when Sam returns with the Impala. In the reflection on the backseat window, you see the blood dried down your neck, staining nearly half of your shirt.

You see the black rings of your mascara and eyeliner around your eyes. You look a mess, and you try to wipe underneath your eyes. It’s a fruitless effort.

After you all finish burning the bodies, Dean starts the long drive home. You insist on stopping to tell Rachel Campbell about her son, but Sam says he already took care of it when he drove into town. 

You frown, but you no longer have the energy to be angry. You further withdraw into yourself, and your lower lip trembles as you look out the window. Through the rearview mirror, Dean sees more tears slipping down your face.

What Sam told him (but he won’t tell you), is what one of the survivors said. One of the mated pairs had taken Andy…to “adopt” a son of their own. 

That night is quiet and tense in Dean’s room. You have to wash your hair all over again, and scrub the blood and grime from your body until only your skin remains. But you don’t have the energy to do more than braid your wet hair afterwards and pull on your lucky Journey shirt, which is still full of holes. 

Dean knows that it’s bad when you need the “dreamcatcher,” as he’s called it in his head. You’ve never had a nightmare while wearing that shirt, or so you claimed a while back. 

You wear it over some long pajama pants instead of your usual shorts, or better yet, nothing at all. But he can see what kind of mood you’re in. Things are unsettled as you both get ready for bed in silence. 

He notes the way you turn to face the other side in bed, maybe to avoid him. Though if you really wanted to do that, you could’ve gone to your old room.

So in more ways than one, Dean takes some solace in the fact that you’re still next to him. And he decides to give you some time and space. 

He goes to bed and tries in vain to sleep.

In the morning, Dean’s woken by the familiar smell of coffee…and the less familiar sound of loud salsa music. 

What the fuck?

After he brushes his teeth, he puts on his robe and slippers and heads down to the kitchen, where he finds you in a seemingly better mood. You’re mopping the floor, of all things. You’re out of your pajamas, instead wearing a loose shirt that falls off your shoulder and some spandex shorts. 

“Yo no se mañana…yo no se mañana. Si estaremos juntos, si se acaba el mundo,” you sing softly along with the music as you dance from the kitchen to the living room. Your phone is connected to a Bluetooth speaker on the coffee table. 

Dean starts to smile, crossing his arms as he leans against the doorway to watch you.

At an instrumental break with a run of conga drums and trumpets, you pause in your mopping to do a little twirl as you dance, with a soulful roll of hips and a flair of salsa steps. It makes Dean’s smile kick up into a smirk.

He walks in on purposefully light feet until he’s sidled up behind you in the living room.

“Nice moves, Shakira,” he quips. 

It startles a shriek of surprise out of you as you whirl around. Dean’s smile hikes up into a grin, but it soon fades when he remembers the way your scream rang through his ears last night. The way his heart dropped into his stomach, and his head swiveled at the sound. And he saw you go down hard. 

Then the rest of it tumbles through his mind—what he had to do afterwards in order to save you. How he’d did it without really thinking, his panic and determination blocking out almost everything else when he’d grabbed the kid. The monster, he forcibly reminds himself. 

“You trying to give me a heart attack?” you ask with a hand on your heart. 

Dean forces himself to smile a little. “Sorry. But might I remind you, not everyone here’s an early bird.”

You give him a wry look.

“You’re the only one around here who sleeps past 10 a.m. Cas dipped out a while ago, and Sam’s on a run.” 

But you graciously grab your phone to lower the music to a more bearable level. Dean doesn’t yet know this about you, but this—listening to music, dancing, cleaning—it’s all your way of coping…and releasing as much of your pain, terror, and regret from yesterday as possible. 

You then look up at him more guarded. The two of you exchanged a lot of unsavory words last night. In fact, it may just be the worst fight you two have ever had in almost three years of knowing one another.  

Dean senses the shift in you, and his amusement fades. He just can't let things stay like this. He won't.

He hazards drawing closer and touching your arm.

“Look…I’m sorry for snapping at you yesterday. I know I was being a dick,” he says. “You’ve just gotta understand something.”

You wait for him to continue with furrowed brows, sensing that whatever he’s about to say is hard for him. 

“There’s a reason I don’t do this. The uh, relationship thing,” Dean continues, clearing his throat. His thumb swipes along your arm. “It’s not just this job. It’s my fucked up life. I tried to warn you before—” 

“Dean,” you say with a sigh, but he raises his hand. 

“Please, just…let me say it,” he says. “You know the spiel. But things can change on a dime. Even on a damn milk run, like a dusty nest of vamps.”

You know that. You know you could’ve died yesterday, and he doesn’t need to remind you of that fact. Before you can start to get petulant again though, Dean continues. His jaw is working, like this next part is more difficult for him to admit.

“Trust me when I say, us being together is dangerous, for both of us,” he says. “For a while I, uh…I started to think Sam and I were better off alone.”

That casts you into dismay. Because you know Dean isn’t lying. He’s really contemplated spending the rest of his life devoid of love, so he won’t have to lose it. 

Dangerous, for both of us.

You realize then what Dean’s really saying. He’s afraid…afraid to lose you. You see it in his furrowed brows, the downturn of his lips, and whatever pain he’s trying to hide in the depths of his eyes. 

And just like that, the water works start. You can’t quite keep your tears at bay as you hold onto his shirt. He lets out a resigned sigh as he holds you by your arms. 

“You don’t have to cry for that,” he says, a bit teasing. 

“Have you met me?” you sniff. But you manage to look up at him with your glassy eyes. “I’m sorry too. God, I’m so sorry, Dean.” 

Your fist clenches in his shirt when you remember Andy, latched onto your neck, and how Dean had to save you. You know he’s remembering it too when his brows furrow, and his gaze falls away. You reach a hand for his cheek.

“I know I fucked up,” you admit. “I was working with my heart, not my head. I just…”

You wanted so badly to help that kid and his mother. You also know that Dean understands; you see it in his eyes. He holds your hand to his cheek and brushes his thumb across the back of your hand.

“I know,” he says. “I really am sorry, baby.” 

The problem is, you didn’t just see your own mother in Rachel. She hadn’t been much older than you. And when you imagine a life beyond hunting, more than anything (no matter how much you shove down the idea), you really do want a family of your own someday. 

It’s just…days like yesterday remind you why that could be a very bad idea. 

More of your tears bubble over, and you head willingly into Dean’s arms. “Me too…”

He holds you tighter than ever. His hands rub down your back, tangle in your hair, and he drops his lips onto your hair. You sniffle, wiping your face dry in his shirt. And for a while, the two of you have peace in the relative quiet. 

Music still plays from the speaker though. And when another salsa song starts to play on your playlist, you start swaying. A smile works its way onto Dean’s face. 

“You can’t help yourself, can you?” he teases.

You smile into his chest. “We should go dancing sometime.”

Dean just laughs. “Oooh, no.”

“Oh, yes,” you reply, batting your lashes up at him. You slip a hand on his shoulder and into one of his hands. He’s forced to hold you as if the two of you were about to start Fred Astair-ing across the living room. 

“Have you ever danced before?” you ask. “Like real dancing.” 

“Not salsa, I’ll tell you that,” he quips. 

“That’s okay. I’ll teach you,” you reply with a coquettish smile. “It’s just a few simple moves.”

Dean gives you a wan look. “You made it look anything but simple.”

You blush at that, but you meet him with a pout of disappointment. You don’t let up, even when Dean frowns. He huffs at you in resistance.

“No,” he insists. You just brush a gentle thumb along his neck, biting your lip in askance.  

But the longer he stares at your beautiful, hopeful eyes, the more cracks form in his resolve. 

Eventually, Dean breaks with a sigh, and a shake of his head. 

“You’re too much, you know that?” he mutters.

It’s then that you know you’ve won.

So with a happy squeal of excitement, you clap your hands and move to stand next to him so you can show him the basic steps of salsa dancing. 

You make him take off his robe and slippers, leaving in his shirt and plaid pajama pants. Then you instruct him for a few minutes, correcting his footing and getting him to move on a beat. You’re pleasantly surprised that he has some rhythm.  

Dean sighs once again. How the hell did we get here? Heat crawls up the back of his neck as embarrassment starts to set in. 

“This is fucking ridiculous,” he grumbles.

“You’re doing good,” you encourage, with a growing smile. “Now come on, feel the beat in threes. One, two, three. One, two, three…”

Once he sort of has the basic steps and turns down, you move to stand in front of him. There you show him how to hold you, how he’ll move forward, and you’ll move back. It takes a little while, but you slowly move through the combinations, then do a little twirl underneath his hand. 

When he pulls you back in without faltering, you give him a beaming smile. “Very good!”

A subtle grin raises his lips at your enthusiasm. He also feels his face heating up at the praise.

But you pause when a certain song filters through the speakers. It’s an old one (and it never fails to make you blush), but you love it.  

“Ooh, yes,” you exclaim with delight, and you turn up the volume.

“What’s this one?” Dean asks.

“Ven Devórame Otra Ves,” you inform him. Not that he knows what that means. You sing along a bit with the first couple of verses while you encourage Dean to lead you in the dance. 

This song is just slow enough for him to attempt it, and the funny thing is, he doesn’t feel all that uncomfortable with the steps now. He’s starting to get a feel for how to move, both with his feet, and with his hands as he guides you by your waist, holding your hand close to his chest. Still, Dean’s also curious about the lyrics you’re singing. 

“What does it mean?” he asks.

You huff in amusement. “You sure you want to know?”

Dean raises a brow. “Well, now I gotta know.” 

You giggle at that, though you correct his steps when he leads with the wrong foot. 

“Okay. It’s about a guy who’s pretty much a player,” you say with a smirk. “His bed has been a revolving door of hot ass, but he keeps thinking about this one woman who used to have him turned inside out…”

Dean’s lips curve at the familiar image you’re conjuring. He manages to turn you under his hand, then pull you back to him in one smooth motion. He looks down at you with a deeper gleam in his eyes. You bite your lip, soothing your hand from his shoulder and down his arm.

As the song’s verses come, you translate for him. And for Dean, your voice in itself is a spell.

“Even in my dreams, he says, I thought I had you devouring me. And I dampened my white sheets remembering you,” you begin. Your words are smooth like black velvet. “In my bed, no one is like you, who draws my body on every corner, without a piece of skin left over.”

Dean is getting hot under the collar as you push away, dragging your fingertips along his back as you turn around him. When you come back into his line of vision, his attention is attracted to the sway of your hips, clad just in those little spandex shorts. He has to clear his throat a bit. 

You eventually return to him with a warm hand against his chest. 

“Ven, devórame otra ves. It means, come devour me again,” you continue, looking up at him from under your lashes, “Come punish me more with your desire. Because I kept my love for you…because my mouth has the taste of your body.” 

You smile at the laser focus of his green-eyed gaze. “Come devour me again.”

You push off with another little spin. When you reach for his hand, Dean yanks you back into him, eliciting a gasp. The move disorients you for a moment, but you giggle and hold onto his arms. Your hands glide up to rest on his shoulders. 

He’s holding you flush against him, and as you shift a thigh between his legs, you unintentionally graze against his hardening length. You look up at him with a smirk.

“You’re a little…stiff,” you say, both flirtatious and teasing. “Let’s loosen you up.”

You shake his shoulders out and try to get him to relax. Dean raises a wry brow, because you know damn well whose fault it is that his body is coiled tight. But you place his hands on your hips as you move back into the dance. 

“Feel what I’m doing there?” you ask. He looks down on you with growing heat.

“If I could do that, we wouldn’t be together,” he rumbles. 

You try to stifle a laugh as he pulls you in close again, just swaying for a bit. Soon enough, you grin knowingly when his hands start to slide lower on your ass. His head bows to yours, ready to meet you with a kiss. 

You stop him with your finger on his lips.

“Question: do you consider yourself more of a tits or ass man?” you ask him. You’re half teasing, but still curious. Dean snorts at the question. 

“More of a connoisseur,” he replies, smirking. 

“Ah.” You nod sagely, and you point between him and yourself. “So this is like a ‘sample the menu’ situation.”

Dean’s smirk deepens. “Sweetheart, you’re a goddamn buffet.”

You splutter laughing…and that’s when he finally pounces. He claims your lips with greedy passion. His hand winds into your hair, gripping tight and ruining what’s left of your loose ponytail. The strands coil around his hand in messy curls while he also gets a healthy grip of your ass through your thin shorts. 

You smile into his lips, even as you acquiesce to him guiding your head to the side, so he can slip his tongue against yours. You grip his arms more for stability while he manhandles you, kneading soft flesh and making pleasant tingles run up your spine. 

After a little while, his mouth burns a hot path away from yours. He noses down your neck, skimming his lips across your skin. It sets your nerve endings on fire and gets you breathing more shallowly in his ear. You cling to the back of his shirt, holding him close. 

Often he’s one to leave love bites of varying degrees, wherever he sees fit. But for a moment he stops at the crook of your neck, just pressing a lingering kiss.

He lets out a deep breath, and you realize he’s probably thinking about where you were bitten. The wound is gone, but it doesn’t change what’s imprinted in both of your minds.  

A softer smile grows on your face. You trail your fingers up into his hair, massaging the back of his neck. 

“I’m okay,” you remind him. Dean hums deep in agreement. You know, however, that he’s still thinking far too much.

So you slide your hands down, slow between the dips and planes of muscle in his back, and rest at his hips. Your thumbs delve under the hem of his shirt and tease the skin there. 

And you start slow, pressing wet, nipping kisses of your own to his neck while you inch his shirt up. You feel his smile on your neck. His grip on your hip flares to life. Still, he lets you tug his shirt up and over his head. Your loose shirt comes next, revealing the same black satin and lace bra you wore the first time he ever got you topless in his arms. 

A fan favorite. Dean grins. He reaches around to go for the clasp, but your firm push on his chest takes him by surprise.

He falls back onto the couch with a grunt, looking up at you then with raised brows. You’ve got a mischievous little smirk on your face that heats his blood and makes his cock twitch.

You take out the rest of your falling ponytail, shaking your hair out wild. Then you let your hands drift down your neck, over your clothed breasts, and finally to your little shorts.

Dean rubs his palms down his thighs and watches. A smirk forms across his lips as you slide the fabric down the curve of your hips. It leaves you in a red thong, familiar to him by the little tear it has on the front. (Again, his fault.)

You climb aboard his strong thighs to straddle his lap, using his shoulders as leverage as you sink down. You make sure to rub yourself teasingly against his clothed erection. He groans in appreciation. His hands fly to your soft, thick thighs and squeeze. 

“Aw, I like this,” Dean says, half on another moan as you grind down a bit harder on him. 

“Yeah?” you tease. You take his face in your hands and capture his lips with your own. Your tongue invades his mouth, and he welcomes you with a deep hum. It’s slow and hot at first, but Dean feels the loss of you when you break from his lips.

Instead, you treat him with the same trail of kisses he gave you, along the curve of his jaw and down his neck. But you don’t stop there.

Your hands move over his chest with purpose, tweaking over each hard nipple while your mouth burns a wet line down and down his sternum. Dean groans at your ministrations, but lets you leave his lap to slide down to the ground, between his thighs. 

“What’re you up to, baby?” he asks, despite having a very good idea of it. He catches the playful, yet determined gleam in your eye. 

You pause, briefly leaning back up to give him a heated kiss. You part from him with a grin. 

“Isn’t it obvious?” you ask. “I’m gonna devour you.”

Dean stares hard at you as goosebumps break out across his forearms. 

Oh, fuck yeah. 

A giggle bubbles in your throat at the expression on his face. But you continue, taking his pants down his legs first, before his boxer briefs. 

Dean’s body tenses in anticipation. You’ve gone down on him before, but somehow it’s different this time. He feels like every single one of his nerve endings stands at attention along with his dick. And you’re taking your sweet time working him up. 

Even when his cock is finally free, you sooth your hands down his legs first, maybe teasing him a bit as you drag your nails down his inner thighs. Dean makes a strained sound, though he tries to hide it by clearing his throat.

Your gaze flicks up to his with a little smile. He’s holding the back of the couch; his fingers are digging into the old cushion in effort to keep still for you. But his eyes stare into yours like a man starving. You know what you’re in for after you have your way with him, but for now, he’s quite literally under your control. 

So you take him in your hands first. Dean groans as you tease him with light touches, soft movements, your thumb slowly circling over the sensitive, weeping head of his cock. It's torturous enough to make him drop his head back against the couch, closing his eyes tight.

And suddenly, he blinks them open again.

“Shit,” he utters, when you finally take him into your mouth. Your tongue is soft and wet, your lips move over him steadily, and your hands caress whatever your mouth can’t take, even teasing his balls. 

You work him over relentlessly, until he can’t help but spill everything he has to give into your waiting mouth. When you suck off and swallow whatever remains, Dean’s heart stutters like syncopated conga drums. 

He shudders and struggles for breath afterwards, watching your every movement—from wiping your mouth to shooting him that satisfied little smirk. 

You press one last kiss to the inside of his thigh before you raise from where you’ve been kneeling on the hard ground. 

Dean manages to lean forward and helps you up by your elbows. But then he pulls you back into his lap and kisses you deeply. He doesn’t let up until you’re panting with him.

“Fuckin’ hell, sweetheart,” he manages to say. His voice is deep and laced with grit. 

He’s still panting heavily. You giggle and press your warming face into his neck. 

“What, now you’re shy?” he remarks. And he has to laugh. “Come back here.”

He brings your face back to him with a hand on your cheek. For a second, he just looks at you. His thumb strokes across your full, thoroughly kissed bottom lip.  

“Say it,” you encourage softly. “Whatever you’re thinking. Right now.”

A smile tugs at his lips. He can’t help but oblige you. 

“You’re too damn much,” he says again, both gruff and fond. Despite how you drive him up the fucking wall sometimes, he doesn't think it'll ever be enough for him, what he has with you.

Because this is something he'd almost given up on. Didn't think he'd get to have it. And it almost scares him, how much he wants you. How much he...

“I love you,” he says. His thumb traces along the familiar curve of your cheek.

It hasn’t been all that long, but he knows. You weaseled your way in without even trying. The least he can do for you is be honest.

Your fingers curl around his wrist, holding his hand in place. You tilt your head at him.

“Oh, yeah?” you ask. 

Dean hesitates, but he nods. “Yeah.”

A smile grows across your face. “Eh, I’m still on the fence.”

At his flat look, you laugh and lean in for a kiss. He allows it, a little petulantly. But you make up for it with sweet affection. Your gentle hands stroke down the column of his neck, down his chest. You then lean back so he can see your face.

“Yo te amo,” you whisper. “Te amo y te quiero, más que tú puedes creer y entender.”

Dean smiles. He doesn’t understand all of it, but he gets the important bits. He hears it in the tone of your voice. He sees it in your eyes. They shine with emotion, but mainly with love. 

Dean kisses your hand. He lets go, just so he can slip his hands around you to finally unhook your bra. He tosses it across the room without bothering to see where it lands.

You do though, and you meet him with a slightly narrowed gaze. 

“Are you making a mess of my clean bunker?” you tease. 

His lips curve as he kisses you again, while his hands each get a generous handful of your breasts. 

“Ah, hello, ladies." He grins. "Miss me?”

You can’t help but laugh. He’s such a dork sometimes.

But you hum when his thumbs brush over hardened nipples, then drag deliberate circles over them, and pinch just hard enough to make you whimper in pleasure. The sensation zips through you, enhancing the flood between your legs. 

“I fucking love that sound,” Dean mutters, and licks a hot path in the valley between your breasts. His lips move against your dewy skin when he says, “Do that for me again.”

When he takes a nipple in his mouth and nips a bit hard, you have to oblige him. Your voice rising high is music to his ears.  

So he goes for your panties next. You help him get them off and return to his lap. With a breathy moan, you revel at the feeling of his fingers probing into your wet heat.  

However, you and Dean have been too engrossed in one another to notice the door of the bunker unlocking, and heavy steps down the spiral staircase. 

It’s Sam who’s back from his run. Unfortunately, he soon has to shield his eyes upon reaching the living room. 

“Damn it, Dean!”

You yelp in surprise, but Dean laughs and holds you close to shield you from view. As a bonus, it presses your breasts against his chest. 

“All right, Sammy. Go to your room,” he chides playfully (but he means it). “The adults are havin’ a moment.”

Sam scoffs. “You’re having a moment on the goddamn couch!”

“Sorry,” you say, though it’s muffled in Dean’s neck. Your face is red hot with embarrassment. 

Sam rolls his eyes heavenward and tries not to see anything else on his way to his room. 

But Dean’s chuckle reverberates through your chest as his hand goes to your cheek. He encourages you to pull back, so he can see your face again. 

When he does, he smirks at the scarlet blush dusting your cheeks and neck. You bite your lower lip, but despite your embarrassment, you’re happy.

Your own words replay in your mind when you lean in for another kiss.

I love you, you’d said. I love you and I love you, more than you can believe and understand. 

AN: Yay! I hope you enjoyed Part 2 of the “Midnight Espresso”-verse! I loved writing this one so much. I know we're just doing fanfic here, but I genuinely put my heart and soul into this one. ❤️

Also, here are a couple of Spanish translations:

(Note: other Spanish-speaking countries may interpret certain words differently.)

[During their fight]: 

“Que sin vergüenza tú eres. Sigue jodiendo conmigo, coño. Entonces tú vas a ver quien soy yo.”

Translation:

“You’re shameless. Keep messing with me, damn it. Then you’re going to see who I am (<- This is Dominican slang. It essentially means fuck around and find out what I'm made of.).”

[Song lyrics: “Yo No Se Mañana” by Luis Enrique]: 

“Yo no se mañana…yo no se mañana. Si estaremos juntos, si se acaba el mundo.”

Translation:

“I don’t know tomorrow. I don’t know tomorrow. If we’ll be together, if the world will end.”

Keep Reading:

Next in this series is "Chico Malo" ("Bad Boy"):

Summary: You catch Dean red-handed—with one of his favorite episodes of Casa Erotica.

▶️ Next Story: Bad Boy (Chico Malo)

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[thrashkink-coven]

So i want to start my practice but unfortunately i don't have the tool incense tarot card pendulum and especially i still lived with my parent. The deity i want to work with is a demon from ars goetia andromalius, i already did the ritual but i Haven't got any respond what should i do?

I received this ask in June so you’ve probably already figured this out but keep on tryin!

If you don’t have access to tools like a pendulum or tarot cards you do still have the option to do some good old meditation on your demon’s sigil. In fact you’ll probably be doing this way more than using cards or other tools. All you need is a pen and a piece of paper. On the front you should write your demon’s sigil. Bonus points if you can find a coloured piece of paper or pen that you associate with them. For Leviathan I would probably use blue, whereas I’d probably use red for Asmoday and green for Belial.

On the back of the paper write a short petition or prayer. Be sure to address yourself by name (doesn’t have to be your legal name, just the name that you identify most with). Detail what exactly it is that you want from them and be precise about how you want them to manifest. If you hope to see them in your dreams write that down. If you just want some mundane sign that they’re listening write that down too.

For example: “To the Great Lord Lucifer, keeper of the hidden gnosis and liberator of all, I Shi, your loyal devotee, invoke your presence and healing light. I request that you appear to me in my dreams, in perfect human form. I wish to see your face and feel your warmth upon me. I wait patiently here, in this, your temple (referring to the altar) for your messages to touch my heart. So it shall be, as it has been, and shall be again.”

For first introductions it’s always a good idea to bring offerings. Something as simple as clean water is fine if you don’t have access to incense. A piece of fruit, a yummy pastry, or a piece of candy works too. Some demons are more particular than others, but they almost all unanimously appreciate alcohol. If you don’t have access to wine or rum, white vinegar also works.

Now, you can anoint the sigil with blood. I usually only do this for my patron who I trust and feel safe offering dna to. Some rituals will insist that you anoint all your sigils with blood but it’s not mandatory in my experience. A simple kiss can work, as can just charging the sigil in your hands. Focus all of your intention into the sigil until it almost seems to vibrate with energy. Then, when you feel ready, you can begin chanting their enn if they have one. If not, you can come up with your own mantra. For example, I wasn’t sure what invocation to use with Hermes, so I always just repeat “Holy Hermes, Holy Hermes, guide my spell.”

As you chant, focus your entire attention towards every syllable coming out of your mouth, feel your vocal cords vibrate as your intention becomes sound. I like to say Lucifer’s enn deep in my chest.

As you do, continue to stare at the sigil. There is a good chance you’ll experience some kind of imagery or physical sensation. If you see a terrifying face or a graphic image, do not freak out, this is very normal. Not all demons are pretty lol. You may altogether have an idea or voice enter into your mind out of seemingly nowhere, that is likely your demon responding. You can respond to them aloud or in your head. Try to stay focused on the sigil as you do, don’t think too hard about your answers.

As an added step you can attempt to do automatic writing. This is when you allow a demon to take control of the muscles in your hand to create a drawing or sentence on a piece of paper. Whilst holding the pencil, completely relax and continue to focus on your demon’s sigil. Don’t resist the subtle movements that occur involuntarily. Sometimes this can result in amazing communication and sometimes it results in a bunch of gibberish. It’s worth a shot but don’t be dismayed if it doesn’t work the first few times.

If you don’t see or feel anything, that’s okay, these things don’t always manifest right away. Do not beg your demon to show up. They find it very annoying. Continue the ritual for a few days until you get a sign. Pay very close attention to the subtle details in your life.

You should probably recreate the sigil every time you reach out rather than using the same one from last session. You’re also perfectly okay to destroy the sigil either by burning or just throwing it in the garbage. Be sure to say goodbye and close down the connection before you destroy the sigil. If you do get a solid communication, remember to say thank you.

[exeggcute]

I hope you don't mind me sending this ask, feel free to ignore it, but I am trying and failing to understand your point about (trans-)misandry.

In my understanding, "misogyny" is a name given to a collection of negative attitudes and prejudices towards women (and femininity). It plays a role in the structural oppression of women, but it is not synonymous with it. Accordingly, "misandry" just denotes a collection of negative attitudes and prejudices towards men. Misandry does not play a role in structural oppression, because men are not structurally oppressed as men, but claiming that negative attitudes and prejudices towards men do not exist just seems silly to me. Just because misandrists are not a huge societal force does not mean they don't exist.

I think it is quite useful for thinking clearly about the matter to keep the words for attitudes and prejudices separate from the words for power structures: Even if tomorrow, every man on earth stopped being misogynistic, women would still be structurally oppressed, because the laws and social structures and unequal distribution of resources would continue to exist. Likewise, if we ever do get rid of the structural oppression of women, some men will probably continue to be misogynistic.

"Transmisogyny" as I understand it also started out as a word for specific negative attitudes and prejudices towards trans women (and in the original conception also towards feminine boys and men and drag queens and transvestites afaik), so using "transmisandry" (or "transandrophobia", already a concession) to mean certain attitudes and prejudices seems uncontroversial to me. The attitudes and prejudices on display in "Irreversible Damage" do seem to me to be rather distinct from the attitudes and prejudices targeting trans women, so it is useful to have a word for them, no? I find it quite fascinating how typical misogynist attitudes are in a way split up on the issue of trans people: The infantilisation is reserved for trans men and the demonisation for trans women, while in traditional misogyny these two go hand in hand. Why are you against using the words "transmisogyny" and "transandrophobia" to talk about this phenomenon?

hey, I appreciate you reaching open a discussion about this. also apologies for the delay, today was a little busy lol. typing on my phone rn so bullet points:

I am obviously not the Keeper Of Language (as much as I would love to be), but in my opinion one reason "misandry" is not a useful word is because of the implied false symmetry to "misogyny". you correctly recognize that one is underpinned by structural opinion and the other is not... but many people do not, lol. and a personal/professional axe that I've been grinding for a while is about reducing ambiguity in the way we talk about stuff, like generally speaking, so I'm of the opinion that "this word means different things to different people and causes a lot of confusion" is a solid reason to avoid using it when possible.

similarly, I think the fact that misogyny is a structural oppression and a major societal force is what makes having a specific word for it so useful. there are a lot of types of non-structural prejudice that basically boil down to Sometimes People Are Sometimes Mean To You, but we don't have a particular word that means "the thing where people are mean to redheads" or "the thing where people are mean to theater kids." maybe that'll change, but as it currently stands I just don't think having a single word for these things is useful or necessary, hence why there isn't one.

to your hypothetical about "if structural misogyny 100% ceased to exist but sometimes individual men were still mean to individual women," maybe not everyone would agree with me on this, but I kinda think that "misogyny" would no longer be the right word for the situation. like if someone with an innie belly button was mean to a person with an outie belly button, we'd just call that "being an asshole," ya know.

also part of me is curious about the origin of the word "misandry" now and like, whether the first people to use it were the bona fide men's rights motherfuckers who think men are structurally oppressed. totally speculating though. further research required

(I was gonna say another thing about how a lot of negative prejudices and attitudes around men have roots in cissexism and to some extent misogyny, like the idea that men shouldn't do X because only women do X and if you're a man who does X that means you're basically a woman, which is bad, because women are bad. or just plain old biological essentialism. but I don't know if I'm articulating this well so take it with a grain of salt.)

re. "irreversible damage" and similar panic about "oh no our precious innocent daughters are turning into men," I would argue there's a couple reasons that "misandry" isn't the word for what's happening here. one is that these transphobic parents don't categorically hate men or think badly of men; they love and accept their cis sons. the other is that I'm reasonably confident that parents who are transphobic about their transmasc kids would not be ANY less hateful about "son" who came out as transfem. which is all to say, their problem isn't just about having a transmasc kid. their problem is about having a trans kid, period.

and that also ties into the "infantilizing vs demonization" thing, which a lot of people have pointed out basically comes down to... transmisogyny. there's an element of both cissexism and misogyny in the way transmasc people are cast as victims (because they're "really just girls," and girls are weak and easily influenced), AND an element of both cissexism and misogyny in the way transfem people are cast as predators! because what's happening here puts transfem people in a sort of limbo where they're not recognized as women, but not exactly recognized as men either: the accusation is that by virtue of their birth assignment, they can't truly be women (cissexism), but also that by eschewing maleness and seeking femininity they've become something "other," a failed man, who will always be marked by an unacceptable affinity for womanhood (misogyny).

the "predator" part of that is informed by a number of factors, including the way that people assume Being A Girl On Purpose must be a sex pervert thing because they think womanhood is inherently about sex and sexual availability (misogyny!), but I don't know if I can articulate it very well and I don't have any good quotes handy. if someone reading can explain it better or has a quote to throw in, please do!

[liquidorcard]

Lily Orchard is very politically opportunistic and her posts on Palestine show how blatant this is. She presents herself as militantly anti-fascist and anti-hate, she claims to hate centrists who try to give fascists a space to speak (instead implying she'd be willing to use violence to stop them). But like, as soon as it comes to electoral topics, she aggressively, AGGRESSIGELY insists that the liberal centrist parties are the only viable option. Like, the guys she pretends to hate. To the point where she's victim blaming activists for Democrats losing the election and telling people not to listen to activists when they call for a boycott against the liberal centrists who are upholding the right for fascists to speak and politically act. She pretends to be a leftist, but it's blatantly performative, the reality is that she is centre right and she seems to hate herself for it. Kind of sad, honestly.

I've said something before here that Lily and I grew up in similar environments? Well, I honestly think that has something to do with it.

I grew up in a very right-wing household in a very right-wing community that like, I knew I knew from a very young age I wasn't ever going to be accepted in. Assigned Reject at Birth. You know, it's one of the many ways religious and right-wing spaces just tare apart interpersonal connections important to the human psyche. That makes a wound in people. I won't go into detail, but my home life was bad to begin with. Being queer just made it that much worse.

Before moving away for college, I very much believed I was the most left-wing any human being on this earth could possibly be. I thought I was going to be met with open arms and the unconditional human acceptance I had always wanted, even though I wasn't fully cognitively aware of that.

I wasn't. And I feel people were even less forgiving of my lack of leftist literacy because I was a queer AFAB and concluded there was no excuse for me to be as ignorant as I was.

Now, I know the discussion of the social policing and virtue grandstanding gets flattened of any nuance online so the right can use it against the left, so I want to make sure I'm clear with what I'm about to say. No, the left should not be tolerant of bigotry. No, not every right-wing nut job can be deradicalized by hand-holding them through their own come to Jesus moment. Nor is anyone owed that emotional energy from you. But when you were raised right-wing, even if you grew to resent it, a person needs time to be deprogrammed. And, I know this might upset people to hear, but you won't understand how much of a privilege it is to be raised in a more liberal household unless you weren't. People who were can sometimes be, what I feel is unreasonably hostile to those of us who don't know any better because we haven't had the chance to learn.

It also just so happens I started college in 2015, right when gamergate went down. And it was an art school. Really, it was a uniquely not very ideal environment to rid myself of right-wing brain worms. And in a very real way, it retraumatized me getting rejected for not having the sociopolitical context to understand everything I was expected to. I'm not blaming anyone in particular for that-- that is more an unfortunate symptom of the anti-social rot the right causes, but it wasn't a good time. I think some people could have been kinder, and to this day I do my best to be charitable with meeting people where they're at myself. And I do think there is a problem in the left, especially online, failing to read between the lines and respond appropriately-- especially when it comes to vocabulary choice. You know, sometimes people use dogwhistles without the proper context to understand they are dogwhistling, sometimes people are just genuinely misinformed and lack the language to ask the questions they have, and vocabulary does shape perception. Right-wing ideology only can survive on the basis of rigid, strict, conceptually or literally divine hierarchy. Right-wing language is shaped on the premise of that hierarchy. The reason why a lot of social progress doesn't make sense to right-wingers and is almost impossible to communicate properly in right-wing language is because it disregards the premise of that hierarchy. Right-wingers don't literally live in a separate reality, but they kind of functionally do. Mentally. For people who are more on the right, but open minded enough to genuinely learn and want to, it's better to use as their language as much as possible to explain to them things that can ease them out of the premise of that mental trap of explicit social hierarchy in a gentler fashion.

With all that said, the root cause was still that right-wing upbringing.

I feel I have more than enough reason to very confidently say Lily went through a very similar experience to me. A shitty childhood for a lot of reasons, but one of them for sure being a queer person in an extremely right-wing household. She has a hypersensitivity to feeling shame and will go to extreme measures to avoid it, she feels isolated and desperate for acceptance in an extremely unhealthy way. In one regard she was knee-capped significantly in her ability to function socially that I wasn't, in that her parents decided she was a simpleton when she was very young, basically wrote her off and conditioned her to never take accountability. Though being overly critical of children is equally harmful (though in different ways), dismissing a child of all agency because you think they're too stupid to handle it can result in a lot more damage to everyone around them aswell as themselves and is a form of emotional neglect.

Online I think she searched out for a community that would accept her, and when that did not work out for her, when she experienced that retraumatization again of rejection . . . She took some very interesting lessons away from that. The wrong ones.

And, glass houses, it took me a whole journey aswell to get where I am. But I was conditioned to internalize social rejection, for better or worse. Lily was not. She is aggressively, profoundly, depressingly incapable of self-reflection, in healthy or in unhealthy amounts-- and even though that's not wholly her fault, she's a big girl now, and she's the only one left to accept responsibility for that. As someone myself who feels deeply angry at the ways I was psychologically damaged, I'm speaking as someone who has accepted that dwelling on how unfair it is that I have to be held accountable for that isn't going to improve my situation.

Believe it or not, I don't think Lily is inherently stupid. I think she was treated like she was stupid since she was young, and has put a lot of energy into pantomiming intellectualism instead of actually learning stuff. Again, glass houses, I also learned how to pretend I am smarter than I actually am out of an extreme aversion to shame-- but I can tell I have more actual knowledge, interest and curiosity to learn than Lily does.

I don't think Lily has any interest in learning about left-wing politics, and I don't think she has actually deprogrammed herself from the right-wing environment she was raised in. She has no motivation to care, and likely still is deeply bitter about the social rejection she's experienced in left-wing spaces. However, she has a lot of social capital to gain by PRETENDING she is.

And pretending is enough for the people she courts in her audience.

[murfpersonalblog]

Thank you for the video! I ran it through a transcriber:

Daniel Montgomery: Rolin Jones, you are the showrunner for Anne Rice's Interview with The Vampire, which aired its second season this past year.... The two seasons are based on the first book, Interview with the Vampire. What did you most want to capture from the novel over the course of these two seasons?

Rolin Jones: Yeah, a very particular romance. The strange war that happens between a 78-year-old man and a 148-year-old man, who still have some stuff to figure out. I wanted Anne's language to make an aggressive appearance; the prose that's so lovely in there, which is sometimes the thing that falls first when you're adapting. And then, yeah, I wanted an almost operatic experience for an audience, as well, to go with it. Emotions are really, really heightened. And yeah, I don't know. Just general, you know, I wanted it to be a nervy, vibrating, weird-ass show. God bless AMC for letting us make it.

DM: And how do you decide where to deviate from the source material, you know, what to expand on, what to leave out? Like, you know, I imagine those are difficult decisions in any adaptation.

RJ: Well...there's a lot of wonderful stuff in our book, a really beautiful book to work off of. I think the challenges were a little bigger in season two, mostly because there was a lot less plot in that book. The book is almost like five meditative conversations between vampires, and then some crazy events, and then, and then you're out! And we had to kind of create a lot of plot out of that. But for the most part, yeah, we try to put as jam as much Anne as we could in there. And the basic, the basic changes you make for anything that was beautifully written as a novel and the choices that you'd have to make to turn it into something that is, you know, for actors to speak. And for it to cut over 15 episodes. I don't know, I think we cannibalized that book! There's like, there's not a lot left. It's a couple of characters that fell off, for this reason, or that reason. We made some decisions about the timeline. But I'd say, I think it was done with a lot of love. And a lot of collaboration with Anne, who is no longer with us.

DM: And Season Two, you introduced the vampire troupe led by Armand. What most excited you about bringing those characters and storylines from from the book to the screen and, you know, folding that in?

RJ: Oh, well, anytime you can shove theater into the face of TV viewers is always a good thing! I hire a lot of playwrights, and a lot of actors from the theater. So I think if there's anything we were just trying to restrain ourselves from making a lot of insider dumb theater jokes that nobody could care about. I think, we always kind of had the specter of the movie behind us ,and they did that part really, really well in the movie. So a lot started out just as, like: Oh, how are we, how are we going to do it? How are we going to justify doing this again? I think there was a caveat from AMC too: Don't repeat the movie! We've seen it! It's beautiful, it's out there! Our timeline really opened up a lot of opportunities to make it a grittier, dirtier, slightly more dangerous Theater of the Vampires than the movie, or even in the book. And the joy of actually setting something in post-war Paris. You see Paris going over the war, you see a lot of Paris during the war, and then you don't see a lot of stuff done in those those first four or five years afterwards. Which was, I think, for all of us, was a nice way to feel like you were, you know, coming into Paris in some kind of a side door. And also just numbers! We had a season one was like a chamber drama between three characters. And we got to expand it, not only with just the bodies, but in space and time to with, you know, what was going on with Dubai; and what what Louis was coming to realize was his truth along the way. So, you know, I got to cast Ben Daniels again! Ugh! <3 Best!

DM: And what was it like writing for him? Ben Daniels, in the role of Santiago? You know, that character being such a highlight of the season?

RJ: Well, we knew that's our that was our guy from the day one! Even if he was already scheduled to go be on Lord of the Rings and our dates weren't working out to begin with. He is somebody we had up on the wall. I worked with him on a TV show previously about like seven or eight years ago, seen his theater work, and know what he can do. He's just one of those really wonderful actors that can sort of turn on a dime, and take something that is very, very funny and then make it very sinister, just like that. The instrument is really huge. And we had a really hammy role for him! Which was, you know, he's just he's one of the really delicate butchers--just the right slice of ham on top of given circumstances and stuff, what a joy. And he also acts like a naughty 14 year old boy when the camera is off too. So it's a nice energy on on Sam. And he gets it like, you know, sort of like the grandad of our theater trip because they were all a bunch of theater actors who had known him growing up in the theater too. So that was a treat. You'd see it on stage. I mean, you see in the camera, there's a lot of joy. There's a lot, it feels like a theater company there. You know, nice to be with it.

DM: Now, there are more than a dozen books in The Vampire Chronicles. You're going into Season Three, you know, and you'll be covering The Vampire Lestat. Would you cover them all if you could, or is there like a specific endpoint that you have in mind?

RJ: I mean, like anything else, you're supposed to take a really good hard look at yourself and go: Do you have anything left to say about vampires? And, you know, they pay you to do this. So that's hard. And I have a three year old child and all that stuff. And who doesn't want a swim in the pool? But I think if you're really honest with yourself, you've got to say: Can you still bring it with the same energy that you brought it the first time? And for Season Three, I believe I can. And I believe our staff can. For 12...for TWELVE books!? Man! I think somewhere along the way, you got to hand that thing off. Because you're just, when you're up to writing the 540th scene of Louis, uhhh...you really need some new blood in there. I think that's a while off. You know, if I had my brothers, we'd do this, figure out Queen of the Damned, Tale of the Body Thief, maybe Memnoch? Somewhere there. And at some point, there will be somebody who already says: Oh, it clearly should be this person. And also! Vampires was--I mean, by that time, who knows how old Sam Reid and Jacob Anderson will look! They might not even look like immortals anymore! So we're just going to try, as long as AMC gives us the dough. We're trying to make aggressive things with it--we're very privileged to do it. But yeah! Look, I'm in the heat. It's hard for me to talk about Season Two, I'm in the heat of Season Three right now! I got Season Three Head in here right now. So I think I hopefully none of this all sounds really canned. It's just that I'm already in the next season.

DM: Now the show is getting a spin off about the Talamasca, who tied into Season Two. Does it complicate the storytelling process to have to factor in storylines that are happening in the same universe, but on another show?

RJ: It's fun, we're communicating with each other. You don't want to be the person that says: You can't do that, you can't do this. You want like John and Mark who are working on the Talamasca show to have as much freedom as I had. That being said, we have a couple of characters that are crossing over. So there's some communications between the two about, like, what those characters need to do in the next season of Vampire, and make sure that those things don't conflict. If anything, make sure that they can help build a better story. Like I'm reading the scripts, and grafting on the given circumstances of their show into ours. And that's cool! That's fun. And they're lovely guys too. So that makes it easy.

DM: Well, I want to congratulate you on your work on Seasons One and Two, going into Season Three of Interview with a Vampire. And thank you so much for talking to me about it!

RJ: Oh, a pleasure! A pleasure! *kisses* Gold Derby!

Interview with Rolin Jones.

Full video here 👇🏻

[hoodiedeer]

is it normal to daydream a lot about not just the stuff you want to make but about the idea of getting to collaborate and work with people that dont even know you yet or is that weird

[clarisse-doodles]

inspired by this post, in which Damian does not know what Vine is