#but other than that this came to me easily

[holybibly]

The latest news, my sugar bunnies.

Unholy thoughts of the day: Seonghwa's oral fixation always gets worse before a concert, as his girlfriend you help him to relieve the tension.

"Seonghwa, baby, you have to… you have to get ready for the concert…" Your hot, wet breath fanned the soft, thin skin of his ear, sending shivers of excitement down his spine. "Can you hear me, baby?" But all your attempts to get through to him were completely useless because Seonghwa could barely concentrate on your words. And how could he, when you were fucking yourself deep and slow on his cock, with two of your fingers sliding sensually between his plump, wet lips, rubbing against his tongue and caressing the inside of his cheeks? Your rings clinked against his perfect, snow-white teeth as you pushed them deeper into his insatiable mouth, pressing the soft tips of your fingers to the back of his tongue. "It's… so good… I just need a little more…" That's all he can manage to get out. His velvety, pornographic voice is muffled by the wet sounds of drooling saliva and noisy swallowing as he speaks through your fingers. "Fuck my mouth, my beautiful star… Please… Fuck my mouth… ""Everything for you, Hwa."

Your fingers slip out of his mouth for a moment, all slick with spit and cherry lip balm, only for you to rub it all over his luscious, fuckable lips in a kinky, dirty caress. But Hwa doesn't care, he opens his mouth wider, his eyes rolling back in pleasure, as he thrusts his hips up so that the thick, swollen head of his cock presses right against your cervix. The hot, smooth walls of your cunt immediately tighten around the massive girth, holding it securely in a velvety grip and stimulating the bulging veins on his cock.

"Fuck, Hwa, just like that... You do it so well, the most beautiful boy ever".

Behind the closed door of the dressing room you can still hear the loud cheers of the fans who have come for the sound check and you wonder for the umpteenth time what they would say if they saw Seonghwa like this - needy, whiny and not afraid to beg for what he so desperately wants.

What would his fans say if they found out what a slut he really is?

Your fingers return to his mouth, and his long, soft tongue immediately begins to move diligently to wet your fingers with his saliva.

You grab his chin with your other hand and hold his head still so you can enjoy the fucked look on his beautiful, godlike face. With drool dripping from the corners of his mouth and his dark cat eyes unfocused and heavy, you can easily see how much he enjoys having your fingers in his mouth.

Seonghwa pulls in his cheeks and sucks hard on the tender appendages, his tongue moving fast and chaotically around your graceful fingers, reminding you of how his tongue used to dance in the same way between your labia, licking and rubbing the moist, sensitive folds of your needy little cunt as you swallowed his amazing cock deep down your throat in your favourite 69 this morning.

You begin to move on his cock again, noticing how Hwa's eyes glaze over, becoming nothing more than a smooth black mirror. He looks like he's in a daze. Drool drips from his luscious lips, his tongue lolls out as he tries to swallow your fingers.

His loud, whimpering moans come through your fingers, and you just push them deeper, making contact with the back of Seonghwa's throat, making him choke on both his saliva and your fingers.

But just as you're about to pull away, thinking that maybe things have gone too far, Hwa's teeth sink into your fingers and his lips close tightly around you, preventing you from pulling his treat from your mouth. His muscular thighs begin to move wildly, the fast pace hitting that spot inside you that makes you see stars. Your walls clench, fluttering around Seonghwa's cock.

He came before you, his whole body shaking and his eyes rolling back. Hwa is too stunned to notice that you're carefully pulling yourself away from his cock and instead start rubbing your swollen clit hard and fast to bring yourself to orgasm.

The sound of his name falling from your lips as you finally cum catches his attention, and Hwa smiles apologetically at you, looking away shyly.

"Sorry, angel, I didn't mean to..." Seonghwa squeezes out barely audibly, his voice getting huskier and lower.

You smile lovingly at him, kissing his rosy cheek lightly.

"It's okay, love, really. I don't mind helping my handsome boyfriend with his damn hot oral fixation. But I still expect you to fuck me senseless after the concert."

[nina-ya]

Synopsis: You and Law had snuck away from the festivities to indulge in each other and the alcohol in your system emboldens you and makes you more forward than usual. Pairing: Law x AFABreader CW: NSFW MINORS DNI, P in V sex, tipsy sex, riding, unprotected sex, creampie • ficmas masterlist • ko-fi • discord server •

The hum of the music and the outside light seeped through the crevices of the door, illuminating the otherwise dark room. The room felt smaller somehow, colored with the heat of proximity, liquor-flushed cheeks, and the tension between you and Law. You were perched on his lap as if you’d always belonged there, knees brushing his thigh as your weight rested just enough to keep him aware of every move you made. 

The sharp lines of his tattoos peeked out from the collar of his shirt, a grin tugging at your lips as you trailed your fingers over them like a map you intended to follow. His hands rested on your hips, the rough calluses of his fingers pressing directly into your skin. His breathing was uneven, chest rising and falling beneath your palms as you leaned closer, brushing your lips against his. It was a slow, deep kiss that demanded nothing and yet stole everything: his focus, his resolve, his breath. 

When you pulled back, his pupils were blown wide, the faint pink on his cheeks deepening into a maroon that you delighted in coaxing out of him. You tilted your head, lips curling into a grin as you looked at him with a sparkle that was nothing less than wicked. 

“You know… since I can’t ride in Santa’s sleigh…” you began, your voice sweet and lilting, your tone carrying the audacity of someone who knew exactly how to fluster him. You let the words hang in the air for a moment, savoring the way his brow furrowed slightly in confusion. “Can I ride you instead?”

Law’s entire body stiffened beneath you, his breath catching mid-exhale. His lips parted as if to respond, but no sound came out. The seconds stretched on in silence until he finally managed to rasp out a strangled, “Sorry, what?”

Your grin widened, emboldened by the reaction. “Can I ride you instead?” you repeated, slower this time, letting each syllable sink into him like the teasing press of your body against his. Then, with a roll of your hips into his, you added, “Like this?”

The motion sent heat bubbling through both of you, his hands snapping to your waist in a futile attempt to still you. A low, involuntary groan slipped from his throat, his lashes fluttering as his head fell back against the headboard, his Adam’s apple bobbing with the effort to find his voice. 

He croaked out your name, though it sounded more like a plea than a protest. His fingers tightened on you, the faint scrape of his nails grounding you as much as it tethered him to the moment. “You’re-- You’ve had too much to drink.”

“So have you,” you countered easily, brushing your thumb against his jawline with an almost tender touch. The grin never left your lips. “But that doesn’t mean that I don’t know what I want.”

He let out a soft, exasperated sound, his eyes fluttering shut briefly as if to block out the temptation in front of him. You didn’t allow it. Leaning forward, you pressed your lips to his jaw, featherlight as you trail down to that one sensitive spot you knew he had beneath his ear. He shuddered as you kissed and sucked at the spot, a sharp inhale breaking through the air. 

“You’re insufferable,” he muttered, though his hands said otherwise as they slid to rest against your thighs, thumbs brushing bare skin. 

“And yet you’re not stopping me,” you teased, nipping lightly at his ear, your breath warm against his flushed skin. “Guess you must like it.”

Another roll of your hips sent him tipping over the edge of his composure. His groan came out low and rough, his grip on your thighs now firm as if to anchor himself to some shred of sanity. 

That groan was a catalyst, a crack in his unshakable demeanor that sent satisfaction curling through your chest. You reveled in it, your confidence blossoming in the way his hands clenched at your thighs, his breath coming quicker, rougher. But then, his grip shifted, fingers tightening with intent. 

Law’s restraint unraveled in a cascade of heated exhales and unspoken desires. His hands roamed your body with growing confidence, groping and feeling every inch of skin he could get his hands on. The tug-of-war between who would come out on top began slowly, simmering with intensity, each of you pushing, pulling, and coaxing the other toward surrender. 

“Is this what you wanted?” he murmured, his voice a gravely mix of irritation and longing. The rasp of his words sent a shiver down your spine. 

“Exactly,” you replied, smirking as you braced your palms against his chest. Beneath you, the muscles of his torso flexed, the warmth of his skin seeping through the fabric of his shirt. You could feel the tension coiling in him and waiting for the right moment to snap. 

Though you weren’t about to make it easy. 

Your hands slid upward, fingertips tracing the inked lines along his neck, committing them to memory. With deftness, you slipped your fingers beneath his collar, tugging it to expose the sharp lines of his collarbones. The sight of him disheveled and at your mercy was intoxicating, and you drank it in like a heady wine. 

Law’s breath hitched as you leaned in, your lips ghosting over his. “You’re beautiful like this,” you whispered, the words dripping with honeyed sincerity. His eyes flickered open, but he didn’t have time to respond before you claimed his mouth again, the kiss fierce and demanding. 

The friction became maddening, each shift of your hips sparking a fire that threatened to consume you both. When he kissed you back, it was with a newfound fervor, his lips and teeth a perfect contradiction of rough and tender. 

You gasped into his mouth as he pushed up, his strength evident in the way he rocked against you. The world tilted for a moment, and you had to steady yourself against his shoulders, your fingers digging into the fabric of his shirt. Law allowed you to peel his shirt away, baring the scarred skin and inked tattoos. You broke the kiss to trace the lines inked over his chest with your lips, and Law shivered beneath your touch. 

Clothing then began to vanish in the fray, shed like pieces on a chessboard. Your shirt was the next casualty, tossed aside without ceremony. His fingers traced the newly exposed skin, dragging slowly and savoring the moment. You weren’t far behind, one hand tugging his hat off and tossing it aside while the other fumbled with the button of his jeans. His lips found your collarbone, pressing firm, open-mouthed kisses against you as you both moved to shed the final pieces of fabric that separated you.

His eyes locked onto yours as you positioned yourself above him, one hand bracing his shoulder while the other grabbed his cock, guiding it to your needy hole. Slowly, you sank down, the stretch stealing the breath from your lungs, and Law’s head fell back with a groan that spurred you further.

His head fell forward, breath heavy as he allowed you to adjust. “Breathe,” he murmured against your shoulder, voice ragged. You managed a shaky exhale as you began to move, setting the stage for the chaos that would follow.

Your bodies moved in a rhythm that was far from perfect but devastatingly intoxicating in its rawness. The alcohol had stripped away your inhibitions, leaving you freer, bolder, louder than usual. Every roll of your hips dragged a sound from him that was as much a plea as it was a command telling you to keep going. Your nails raked across his chest, leaving faint red lines over the inked patterns, as if you were marking your territory.

His hands were everywhere-- on your hips, guiding your movements with a bruising grip; on your back, splayed wide and desperate to keep you close; and lower, his fingers digging into the curve of your thighs. His hips thrust upward, meeting your pace, forcing a cry from you that was embarrassingly unrestrained.

“You’re… louder than usual,” he rasped, his voice thick with amusement and arousal. The smirk he wore was short-lived, though, wiped away the moment you shifted, your body taking him deeper. His head fell back again, a string of curses escaping him. 

“You--” your voice cracked, words lost in the haze of sensation as his hips rolled up to meet yours again. “You're one to talk.” The words were breathy, teasing, but they were barely audible over the sounds filling the room- the sharp slap of skin against skin, the labored breaths, and the guttural noises that escaped him with every movement. 

His response was wordless, his hands flexing against your waist as he took control for a moment, guiding your hips with an authority that made your toes curl. You braced yourself against his shoulders, leaning forward to steal a kiss that was all tongue and teeth, your moan swallowed by his mouth. 

His name tumbled from your lips in broken cries, each one more desperate than the last, and he answered with rough, breathless grunts that sent shivers racing down your spine.

“Look at you,” he murmured, voice low and wrecked. His eyes were heavy-lidded, taking in the way you moved, the way you unraveled atop him. “You’re -- fuck -- something else.”

You didn’t have the words to respond, didn’t trust your voice to be anything more than a garbled mess, so you showed him instead. You dragged his hands higher, guiding his touch until his palms met the swell of your chest. He took the hint immediately and one hand squeezed the soft flesh between his fingers, while his mouth dipped down to latch on the other one, rolling lapping at and sucking at the pert bud.

“Law--” his name came out in a broken gasp, your hands sliding from his shoulders to tangle in his hair. The soft strands were damp under your fingers and you tugged lightly, earning a sharp intake of breath from him that made your hole throb around his cock. 

You couldn’t think, couldn’t speak, you could only move, bouncing on his cock with an intensity that made you both tremble. And he wasn't immune to it. Law’s head rose to lay his forehead on yours, his mouth open in a silent groan as his hands returned to your hips, urging you down harder, faster. He was muttering something under his breath, though you couldn’t tell. The only thing you could focus on was the way he felt, the way he moved, and the way he unraveled beneath you.

Your movements grew more erratic, the rhythm you’d found earlier splintering into something desperate and uneven. The two of you were a mess-- a tangled, sweating, gasping mess. You’d lost all sense of time, of reason, consumed entirely by the way you fit together, by the way he stretched and filled you. You could feel the tension building in you, the pressure coiling tighter and tighter with every roll of your hips. 

“You’re close,” Law murmured, the words slipping from him like a warning, though you weren't sure if he was talking to you or himself. His eyes stared at you in awe, his jaw slack as he huffed with pleasure and effort. One of his hands left your hips and trailed right between your thighs, inked fingers landing on your neglected throbbing clit. You cried out as he circled the bundle of nerves in time with his thrusts. 

“Yeah,” you barely choked out, the pleasure overwhelming, stealing your breath. “I’m--”

You couldn’t finish your sentence before it hit. The climax that shattered you into a thousand pieces, left you trembling above him, unable to think, unable to do anything but ride out the waves of ecstasy. Your body convulsed with it, nails digging into his chest, your back arched as you gasped for air, your entire world narrowing down to the feeling of him inside of you, against you, taking you apart and putting you back together again. 

Law followed you, chasing that same high, his thrusts desperate, his mouth finding yours again in a searing kiss. His hips bucked up into you one last time, and with a groan, he came undone, his cock throbbing as his release flooded into you, the sensation nearly making you spiral all over again. His grip on you was the only thing keeping you together as you both rode out your highs, both left trembling and spent.

Both of you were a mess. Breathless, covered in sweat, with nothing but the remnants of pleasure hanging between you. Slowly, you pulled away, your body still shuddering, your mind barely able to comprehend the moment you had just been caught in. Your eyes flickered from his face, to his body, to where your hole swallowed his cock, the sight of his cum slowly leaking out of you making your clit throb with yearning.

Law was a wreck. His eyes were closed, his breathing slow, but a deep, contented sigh escaped him as he sat there, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you flush against his chest. 

“You alright?” he asked, voice hoarse as he traced your spine gently. 

“Yeah,” you murmured back, your voice soft and still laced with the remnants of breathlessness. “Just… sticky” you added, shifting your hips ever so slightly for emphasis. The sound that followed, a mix of his quiet kiss and the obscene reminder of your sinful actions- made you laugh softly. 

Law’s lips twitched into a crooked smile as his head fell back against the headboard. “Sticky is one way to describe it,” he replied, his voice low, laced with a teasing warmth. 

You tilted your head, a lazy grin playing on your lips as you let your gaze roam over his face, drinking him in. His golden eyes glowed in what little light entered the room, half-lidded and soft, their sharpness tempered by the lingering satisfaction. His lashes cast delicate shadows on his cheekbones, which were flushed with the slightest of maroon. His lips, still slightly swollen and parted, looked as though they were meant to be kissed over and over again. You thought you might never tire of the sight. 

He stared right back, his eyes tracing over the curve of your cheek, the strands of hair stuck to your damp skin, the way your lips curved into that satisfied, contented smile that was meant for him. His gaze softened as it lingered on the tiny details-- the way your lashes fluttered, how your pupils seemed to shimmer with playfulness even now, and the faint sheen of sweat that glistened at the hollow of your throat. You were radiant in the afterglow, the very picture of chaos and beauty wrapped into one.

His hand lifted, his fingers trailing up your arm, grazing your shoulder before brushing a stray lock of hair from your face. His thumb lingered at your temple, a touch so gentle that it sent a shiver down your spine. You caught his wrist and held it there, pressing his palm against your cheek, nuzzling into the warmth of his touch as your eyes locked once again. 

“You’re truly something else,” he finally murmured. 

Your grin widened and your heart swelled at the way he looked at you, as though he was committing every detail of you to memory. “Yeah,” you teased softly, though your tone held a tenderness to it. “ I know.”

Neither of you moved to say more. Words felt unnecessary in that moment, the silence filled instead by the intimacy of shared breaths, quiet smiles, and the unspoken understanding that neither of you would trade this moment for anything.

[quarterlifekitty]

Hello meine Friend. I am anonymously asking you about my husband Phillip Graves and if you have anything you'd be open write about this terrorist? ☺️

Also we have similar biographies about ovulating and it always catches me off guard when I go onto your profile and see the text there, also that's why I questioned anonymously ✌️

I'd totally write for him! I'll see what I can juice up, since you've left it rather open ended right now. (edit after finishing: uhm. this got away from me. the juice most certainly came loose)

So, feel free to fight me on this. But I can so easily see Graves as the kind of guy who's proud to be dating a stripper. Like, he met you on some stupid macho victory outing with the shadows. A private reservation of your club, lot of fuck around money getting tossed around.

And yes. He is, in fact, the idiot that falls for a stripper while she's doing her job. But the key thing about Graves is that while he may be a predator, he's not a dog. He knows quite well how to keep it in his pants. You were used to guys trying to go out with you outside of the club on the basis that they'd be able to get the milk without buying the cow.

You'd admit the southern charm helped. The hairline scar on the cheek. You met him for your first date, bright and early, in a public place. Coffee. What's casual for most is meaningful to you: time spent together in daylight, before you go about errands and business. No intention to steal away, drink, and fuck.

The first three months were just coffee. Maybe lunch, if he caught a long break on a day that worked for you. Nothing at night. Never went to each other's place. The one thing was that while he had little choice but to let you pay for your own coffee and pastries, he'd never let you cover lunch. Call him old fashioned-- but he's got relatives that'd be turning in their graves if he let you tank the cost of a nice date.

It's month four when you let him take you out for dinner. It's a few weeks later that you let him come inside when he takes you home. It's month five when he sleeps over in your bed.

It's month six when you have sex for the first time. Completely your initiation, and he gave plenty of outs. He needed you to be ready for it-- cause he couldn't promise he'd be able to stay gentlemanly once he got a taste.

He picks you up from work these days. And he likes to go in and get you, despite how your boss isn't a fan of it-- makes you seem a little too unattainable. Phillip grins when guys call after him. You know your girl gave me a lapdance a few minutes ago, right? Yeah, genius, he knows.

"Thanks for that, pal. If it weren't for guys like you, I might not get a penthouse view when I fuck her. Cheers for the rent money, partner." They don't need to know that you actually live in a pretty sensible apartment, and you'll be moving to the house his folks left him after the wedding. You're ready to meet him then, in your comfy clothes and fur coat, ring glittering with more than a couple stones. You stick yourself to his side like you're a couple of nesting turtledoves in winter. And he always opens the car door for you.

"Customers give you a hard time while you were waiting for me?"

"Y'know I love it when they do, sweetheart."

[seewetter]

How low can you go, discourse edition!

"Lawful evil" is a dungeons & dragons game mechanic, not a political analysis. You look silly.

"The person in the comic is correct" which person? They are both stick figures!

To have meaningful discussion about politics, including transfeminist politics, comics aren't suited as the main source of theory. Stick figure comics can cause you to have theoretical insights, they can communicate politics, but they mix entertainment and thought. They are easily digested, like a tv series that people binge watch instead of engaging with a text slowly and methodically.

Beth's* (*just the alias Talia gave her, I know) mistake, in my view, is to try and use the form of a frequently published (!) comic to try and discuss things that must be read "in the context of everything that came before it". In other words, complex theory made so bite-sized that an onlooker can easily misconstrue it as a stand-alone statement. Complex theory that sincere people can misconstrue and that bad faith actors can much more easily misrepresent than long-form communication.

The tags that Beth wrote and got screenshotted by the first commenter are not clear enough. "Comic" can mean comic strip (the individual page of the comic we see embedded in the first post of this thread) or it can mean comic as a totality (all green stickfigure comics Beth makes as a totality). And as a result, outsiders unfamiliar with the comics who don't read the backlog have to trust the comic author (a complete stranger) that these comics are sympathetic to transfeminism.

On the other hand, I think we can expect people to read a note like that and read a small sampling of previous comic pages to get a feel for how honest the author is being. It's not too much to expect people to actually sit down and make an informed decision about whether this comic advocates these ideas. An author would usually not leave a note like Beth did. People who "test the waters" to express their bigoted opinions do so wordlessly, leaving the audience to interpret. They want as many people as possible to read the bigotry with their guard down. "This comic is progressive, just check the backlog" is something bigots are only likely to say when they've been attacked and are defending their stuff. It's not something people say while publishing their work.

Personally, I think the comic page that is causing this strong reaction isn't very insightful. The message I'm taking away from it is "some people think the height of (trans) activism is to not have friends with privilege, to only assume the worst about the intentions of privileged people and to justify it with the veneer of liberation theory which does not support that reading". But here's the thing. It's a comic. It doesn't have to blow my min. It doesn't have to liberate. You and I and everybody else can be unimpressed by this page and we can move along with our day or read the backlog for better pages or ignore its existence. The strong reaction from user thegreenbisamurai is hyperbolic. But I think you, dear reader, now have sufficient context. I'm not assigning equal blame, I think blame firmly lies with people who make zero effort to engage with a post that explicitly asks them to engage with more. But I do think this discussion will always be absurd, will always have a sillyness to it, because

#you fuckers better not take this as a generally anti-transfeminist comic#this exists in the context of everything posted before it. you are fully equipped to understand this as a comic about a specific behavior

will never make sense as a request unless we really assume that people are expected to read an entire oeuvre before judging a stick figure comic.

The strong reactions (at least in this thread) appear to be "this comic f*cked up" or "the author is displaying a discriminatory idea to me". Basically various people who read the comic don't get the point the comic is making. Perhaps in part because "wow some people really are over-suspicious and separatist and then blame theory, huh" is not a message that particularly helps people unpack their own suspicions and separatist opinions.

"Privileged people always have bad intentions. It's only a matter of time till they strike and betray you. That's what we have learned from good theory books." is a much more common opinion than "Trans and cis people can't be friends. No more race mixing." Right? The comic aims very broadly at all these tendencies, likely even at tendencies not directly voiced by the stick figures! I mean just look at all the wild hills people try to die on because they have a doomer interpretation of some theory book. Uh, the list is endless! But I can see how the user thegreenbisamurai might feel that the comic lumps all these people together not because it is primarily critiqueing bad reads of theory (for an audience already accustomed to poking fun at both self-destructive hyper-suspicious mindsets and also used to poking fun at separatists) but because, if you don't know what the core critique is or what the audience of this comic believes, it can feel like its lumping every target of criticism together into a strawman group of bad people. Laughable bad people, easily mocked for their backwater beliefs, such as their hillbilly mistrust of cis and transmasc strangers, all of whom are quasi-racist redneck separatists who us civilized open-minded trans people do not take seriously.

That's why 4chan was mentioned, I think. Because 4chan comics represent that kind of "lumping together", strawmanning the Other without nuance. And in a way, Beth's comic does do that too! Like yes, it's written for people who poke fun at these tendencies, who've already agreed that they think all these ideas are bad. The comic doesn't feel the need to justify itself to parts of the trans community who feel these suspicions of cis people or transmasculine people. They are not the intended audience -- and yet the tags below the comic are sort of for them, aren't they. They are expected to have sufficient willingness to read the comic in good faith, to not attack a statement that is built on the unspoken assumption that they are wrong. And that their feelings are misguided, mistaken, and that some introspection is necessary to stop misusing theory to argue that suspicions of privileged people are justified. Which, to be honest, I wish that too! In a perfect world, I want people to just introspect about every opinion they hold, every emotional reaction they have. I want people to approach these comics in good faith and treat them with good humour and a grain of salt.

But for many people, this hyper-suspicion is dead serious. It's a defense mechanism. And their reading of theory is strongly shaped by the fact that these theory books gave them more information about worrisome things in society. That's one of their takeaways from transfeminist literature, because that's what they were looking for: things to watch out for, potential dangers.

I really don't think it makes sense to expect people to make that leap. I know there are trans people out there who have convinced themselves that no trans person has a happy relationship with their parents! That your parents can't love you and will always betray you. These are assumptions and sweeping assertions made from a raw emotional place. A place of stupidity. They can't be fixed by telling people to reconsider, because these ideas have some kind of "use" for people. I think it's important to remember how lonely some trans people are, how dependent some trans people are on the trans community -- how dependent some transfem people are on the transfem communities around them. How risky it can be (or feel) to reach out to a privileged person. Heck, I am hyper-cautious about it myself. Sometimes it's easier to delude oneself that these are iron laws of reality, that no one out there is happy among cis or transmasc friends or also comforting: being right, always, always being proven right eventually, and not having to bear the pain that reality is unpredictable and weird, preferring predictable patterns like that everyone will predictably betray you.

Bad takes? In my trans community? It's more likely than you...get it, it's a meme, I hate myself.

Anyway, I don't expect Beth to not make funny stick figure comics. I don't know if she has a financial incentive to post all the time, but she may have. And if there's a financial (or otherwise) incentive to post a lot, sometimes posters like that will express thoughts badly. That's the nature of how mass production works. If I make a comic every week, I may just not find the time to really make the message perfect. I know this. That's why I take Beth's comics with a grain of salt -- I smile at some when I come across them, I think others (like this one) are meaningless. There's even some I disagree with (I don't have examples for that, I'm not a regular reader).

But equally I don't expect people on Tumblr to be able to parse the meaning of a comic or to read a backlog of comics. Remember the Neil Gaiman revelations of the past few weeks? In the aftermath of that, there was a post going around that claims that Gaiman (on top of being a horrific serial abuser) ripped off a small author. But I've also come across a counter-claim, that some guy on the internet invented the similarities between Gaiman's Sandman story and the universe of this small author wholecloth. For clout! I say all this because I don't have the time "read the backlog". Maybe in a few years, I'll have the money and time to read the small author and compare her work to what I know of Sandman (which is from the tv series, never read the comics). But until then, I can only relate to it with ignorance. I don't know! The internet is full of green stick figure comics or posts making accusations. And we have to make ethical judgment calls. I think thegreenbisamurai's post is actually fairly subdued, the typical grumblings of someone who is unconvinced by an argument and finds it unfair (for pretty understandable reasons!). I also think Beth's comic is fine, nothing that needs to change about it. And I find Talia Bhatt's responses fine too! So in short, I don't really think there is much to talk about here.

But I do want to address summertimesadnessgirl's reaction.

"This is about Christianity, right?"

It is? How so? Ok, I've read the whole post and I guess I'll respond with more substance later...but, to employ a Christian rhetorical figure, what a hell of an opening statement!

"Look.

This isn't complicated.

It actually is possible for double think to exist which causes people to support ideology which ruins the lives of people they see every day and are "nice" to."

I think it is helpful to quote the people you respond to. When you don't quote them, you end up writing about niceness and doublethink and Christianity and talking about various things other people aren't explicitly talking about and it comes across like you are from another planet.

The thing summertimesadnessgirl is trying to say (I think) is that a person like Beth can be a transfeminist with hypocritical (transphobic, transmisogynistic) tendencies.

I take it that had summertimesadnessgirl clearly stated this, it would be far less confusing to read!

"They teach it to people who grow up in Christianity, for sure."

There are 2,000,000,000 people on this planet who grow up in a Christian tradition. Do you know how many German Catholics have committed themselves to continuous mass protests against a sexist, homophobic and transphobic church doctrine? Have you seen the uproar?

Ok, that's not the point though, is it. Chilean or German Catholics and Unitarian Universalists may be chill people, but current Catholic doctrine is monstrous yet "nice", and evangelicals like John MacArthur dare to say that we live on a "disposable" planet. Nietzsche had a point when he critiqued the Christian idea of love that masks hate. So I'll grant summertimesadnessgirl that you can convince good people to do evil things through something like a religion. You can convince people to define "nice" or "virtuous" in ways that are destructive and horrible.

"They teach it to people who grow up with white supremacy and bigotry."

I wouldn't be so sure. A lot of white supremacists know that they are evil. H.P. Lovecraft is the rare historical figure whose racism came from genuine ignorance about foreign cultures (his parents were mostly in mental institutions, he grew up alone next to a bookshelf full of books with racist propaganda about Africa and the Middle-East) -- and notably, Lovecraft came to regret much of his ideas and writings towards the end of his life. But like most racists know that they are just fantasizing the Other into existence. Putin's racist advisor Aleksandr Dugin knows that Russia doesn't really have "it's own reality", he just says that because it confuses people. The darling of the modern alt-right, Julius Evola argued for racial supremacy "on spiritual grounds" just because he knew nobody could argue with him on that terrain. Nazi Germany declared their neighbours, the French, to be subhuman and their culturally completely alien allies, the Japanese, to be "Yellow Aryans". Does that sound like a conclusion reached naively, through ignorance? Or does it sound like political calculation?

But okay, that's not the point either, is it. Yes, good people can internalize racial messaging. People can hate racism yet have difficulties interacting with racial minorities.

And yes, those observations do apply to this comic. A hypothetical version of the comic's author could promote hostility towards some important liberatory goals! It's possible.

I don't think so though, and I have reason to be wary of such accusations.

Separatism (Group A can't be friends with Group B) is historically associated exclusively with bigots. Even modern black supremacists like Gazi Kodzo, who argue black and white people can't befriend each other, are in bed with the alt right (Kodzo also believes that Hitler did nothing wrong, and his insistence that he's gay and a socialist don't really help convince me that his anti-white-black friendship stance offers any kind of helpful future to anyone)

Suspicions of ill intentions and betrayal are fine, but people who use these suspicions as preaching material and get mad when someone trusts other people are preventing our ability as a transgender movement to not remain isolated and politically removed from the gears that enable us to prevent our extermination.

The comics method that people should not read into theory and should instead be self-reflective is not some secretly bigoted opinion.

"It's part of lawful evil culture."

That's a 5. Oh, I'm so sorry. The wisdom check fails and you're going to have to roll for initiative. Look, I don't think these are drow you're attacking, I think they're just other trans people. Oh no! Your character won't be able to stop her attack. I'm so sorry.

"Lawful evil culture includes even people who engage in doing a behavior themselves on a regular and consistent basis and claim to love the behavior and then work to make the behavior illegal and punish people who make the behavior possible-"

Give me an example.

I hate to put people on the spot like this, but I think what happened here is this: summertimesadnessgirl had a (genuine, not joking!) epiphany and is articulating something worth articulating: that there are often people who seem to be on our side but then back legal efforts that go in the exact opposite direction. Example: Kyrsten Sinema, a bisexual activist whose radical ideas seem to have evaporated in her role as a politician in Washington. Example: overhyped New York mayor Cuomo, who spoke the language of progressive activism and intersectionality so well, that his sudden betrayal of Black Lives Matter activists was all the more horrific!

But without examples, people don't know what you're talking about.

Other examples may include Christian hate preachers like Jerry Falwell who are caught with male prostitutes (Falwell famously tried to excuse his behaviour and said something along the lines of "to understand evil, you have to explore evil").

But crucially, your examples need to work. Falwell is a bad analogy for this comic, because Falwell is a hate preacher who secretly betrays his hateful community. Cuomo and Sinema are bad analogies because neither are sincere, Sinema may have morphed into a monster over time, or perhaps both were always dishonest people just waiting to manipulate progressives for political gain. None of these examples, as much as they express the duality of speaking vs doing, are really examples of a well-meaning person passing a horror law!

Perhaps the closest analogy, in the legal realm, of genuinely well-meaning progressive people unleashing horror on minorities happened in Florida under Ron DeSantis, who passed some kind of anti-LGBT legislation that found a lot of support among liberals. But importantly, those liberals didn't realize what the legislation did in its entirety. It was framed as a support for parents, I believe, and quite a few liberals just didn't look at the proposal in detail.

Plenty of material for summertimesadnessgirl to pontificate about "lawful evil culture" and confirm that lawful evil culture works exactly as defined by using examples... but if these examples are unrelated to this comic, then...then why?

"Like homophobic and trans phobic people who vote to have rights taken away from queer people while crossdressing in their sex lives or having gay sex, or people who regularly use porn and vote to have porn censored and make the lives of people who are consenting adults legally producing porn difficult. Those things are a regular feature of the cognitive dissonance in lawful evil culture."

Some people want power. Bigots are quick to give power to those who support their bigotry.

The official biography of Jarosław Kaczynski (the right-wing former leader of Catholic supremacists in Poland) states that in university, Kaczynski went to gender consultation. So it's possible Kaczynski, someone who has done harm to queer and trans people at the highest level, is a closeted transfem. But what summertimesadnessgirl has to prove is that the Kaczynski's of the world aren't aware of what they are doing. That they go to gender consultation, get positive vibe about being trans and then join the leopards eating faces party through sheer cognitive dissonance.

That's what's so hard to believe about the argument.

Like I understand Kanye West watches porn and wants it banned. But I'm pretty sure Kanye West feels guilt at his porn consumption. He calls himself a porn addict. He thinks something bad is being done to him, he interprets the pleasure he feels through the frame of an evil industry that he blames for his feelings.

The Jerry Falwell's and Jarosław Kaczynski's of the world may crossdress in bed (I don't know) but they aren't simultaneously excited about promoting queer rights and also trying to get queer people killed. That's not how cognitive dissonance works.

"Lawful evil culture will argue that something the person does is fun and they like it, but it's a net negative for society, or that it's out of it's proper place, or some other thing."

Yes, but what does this have to do with this comic?

"There are a bunch of reasons they do this."

Yes, but how does this relate to this comic?

"But pretending that a group of people who follow all belief system that says "everyone in this group deserves this bad outcome" will not turn on you because they are nice doesn't work."

The comic differentiates between two types of groups: demographics (men, women, trans people, cis people, transmasculine people, transfeminine people) and agents of marginalization (transphobes, transmisogynists, etc.). You don't seem to? Should I believe that Kaczynski, a Christian nationalist, is safe to be around? Hell no, I'm not suicidal! Should I believe that my friend Xander, a trans guy who has never said or done anything cruel to me and whom I want to protect from his bigoted family, who does not follow a belief system that "everyone in this group deserves this bad outcome"... should I believe this friend of mine will betray me? That this is a law of nature? That I must be afraid of him, though he is a decade younger than me? Do I need to quiver in fear?

People are people. I've met transmasc genderfluid people who have treated me without the barest shred of consideration or kindness and projected their trauma onto me with zero consideration for what transfems go through and trans men who have been far kinder, who never hurt me in any way. There is no neat box that will quickly tell you who is safe, there are only (behavioural) red flags.

rationalize

[ID: Three panel comic with crudely drawn stick people

Panel 1: A leaf green person is talking to a grass green person with a hat and glasses.

Leaf: "And then Orange said that-"

Grass: "Orange"? Your friend is orange?"

Leaf: "Yeah?"

Grass: "Why do you have non-green friends? Don't you know about misoviridy??"

Leaf: "…I have plenty of non-green friends. I have grayscale friends, even."

Panel 2: Grass Green solemnly holds Leaf Green's shoulder.

Grass: "Look. I hate to be the one to tell you this, but every single misoviridy-exempt friend you have secretly hates you.

Leaf: "Uh. That is not true."

Grass: "It's basic viridist theory. Every single moment they're around you, they're thinking about it."

Panel 3: The grass green person tips their hat down.

Grass: "Look. I get it. You're naive and uninformed. You don't know better. But read "Pruning Greens." Then you will understand."

Leaf: "I already read that. It did not say the things you are saying."

Grass: "You will see. It is inevitable."

Leaf: "No I think you're just finding a new way to rationalize really unhealthy thought patterns here actually"

End ID.]

Start - Previous - Next

[hai7ani]

mmmm no super great ideas for you but im craving for virgin!rindou and single mom reader… aaaaaauhagghg.

collection

慢一點，久一點，真一點。

Rindou initiates the talk first.

It happens on a game of WNRS in your living room, takeout boxes long forgotten on the coffee table. The TV is playing a movie you're sure neither of you are really watching, yet you still want to pretend that you are.

You've been giggling at him for the past hour. He's a pretty funny guy, you think. Doesn't have as big of an ego you thought guys like him would have.

He's a nerd who's always so observant and nice. He's nice to you, your son, the ladies living in your apartment complex who always needs help switching light bulbs because they're too old for that now. One time behind doors Yuzuha's said that she'd smash if he weren't such a loser all the time.

(You think he is, too.

But it's what that makes him so... fuckable.

You think it's bad that you keep having these thoughts, knowing that you're most probably leading him on.

You're not ready yet.

But your heart still thumps weirdly when he comes to visit with warm food and occasionally new toys that you can tell he's had a hard time picking for your boy 一 because he's somehow always one colour off, or one category away.

When he bought Hot Wheels, the kid's already moved on to playing Legos. And when he gifted an expensive Star Wars set that he saved up for, the little shit just has to be in his Mommy phase.)

He gets embarrassed easily and you can just tell he's a virgin with the way he treats porn magazines that Yuzuha has somehow gotten her hands on, stuffed behind cabinets so that Shou doesn't find them. Neither of you let her know that she's been exposed, but it's more fun this way.

He's just a guy. Genuine, very smart despite what he says. Not book smart, but he reads up on things a lot. A bit clumsy at times, but he's still responsive than most men.

He's easy to talk to. Easy to know.

Easy to一

"What's a compliment you wished you received more frequently? Oh, dang. I gotta think about this." He flips the card around, throwing his head back onto the couch.

And yet again一

"Do you wanna go first?"

What are guys like him?

"I wish more people told me I was pretty."

Your response came to you naturally. It poured like waterfall, thorny chain tightening around your heart, squeezing your flesh tight, and you busy yourself with a loose thread on your blanket.

Rindou only stares at you from the other end of the couch. Almost like a deadpan, but not really. His violets pierce through your soul, dissecting you up one by one. You don't make eye contact even when you can hear the silent screams for you to look at him.

"You're kidding."

"What? It's true."

"No. I mean, no one tells you that all the time?"

You crack a smile, glancing up to take just one quick look. He's still as handsome as ever, boyish features much more prominent under the yellow light illuminating the room.

Soft nose, pretty doe eyes. Cracked lips pink from the Malatang you love eating. Veiny hands 一 one thick, desirable finger twirling around the drawstring of his pants 一 that draws you in so close you can't help but go wild at the sight.

"What, you think I'm pretty?"

He doesn't cough like you'd expected him to. Doesn't get embarrassed or act any more like a classic, textbook virgin at your poke.

"Yeah. You're pretty." His voice gets softer with every syllable. Dodgy eyes looking away with each word.

You don't respond at that, but you can't lie that his compliment did make you feel something swirling on the inside. Something blooming in your tummy from the way his eyes look into your own.

It's true 一 you haven't been told for your looks as much as you've always wanted. You're hot, you're sexy, sure 一 but you haven't been pretty to them. You've always hoped that they could see past your body 一 to see you for who you are on the inside.

"You're一" He shifts in his seat, suddenly feeling a little too hot, heart beating a little too fast in his chest. "You're pretty, okay. You always spend too much time in the mirror but I think you're fine just like this."

You purse your lips, listening.

"You're... Shit, I'm一"

You understand him when he throws his pillow to the side to run fingers through his hair. He's not always good with words, hasn't always been. But he still tries, and you like that about him.

He always puts in effort.

"You're pretty, like music. There's no boundaries, no... box. You can be anything. It's cool."

You grin at that. "Really?"

A nod. "I can tell you that everyday from now on."

An awkward silence too heavy for any of you to handle covers the room like blanket too fast. The soft, anticipating smirk on his face drops when you shift in your seat, clicking your tongue. Fingers scratching at your brows, teeth biting into the corners of your lips.

"Rindou, I'm sorry if I have been leading you on, I一" You sigh. "I don't think I'm ready for一."

"No, wait一" He tries inching a hand towards you but you dodge. "I thought we一 Aren't we onto something here?"

Rindou feels pathetic. He feels as if he's reaching for something that seems close but is still so, so far away.

"No, I'm sorry. I'll pay you back for tonight's dinner. And I don't think you should come over so often anymore. I'll talk to Shou-chan, have him understand."

He lets out a breath too short, standing on his feet as if it'll help him figure you out better. "Why? Is it me?"

"I just don't think it's fair to you, okay? We should stop. I'm sorry."

"What isn't fair to me?"

You give him a look so sad that his heart hurts.

"You're gonna be dealing with a kid that's not yours. He's hyperactive and naughty before bed. He's picky with food and doesn't like taking showers. Worst of all you're gonna be dealing with me. I'm not easy. I'm difficult to manage, to handle, to一 You'll not like me anymore when you see it for yourself. Guys like you deserve better things."

Fuck.

Rindou scrunches his brows, face twisting into one of confusion, one that makes you seem crazy for saying what you said.

"Why do you say these things about yourself? Why do you say these things about him? He's just a kid, I'm not good with kids but I'm sure I can handle him out of all." He throws his hands up in the air a little. "And, seriously, guys like me? What am I like? Why do you assume that way about me? I'm not that kind of person. I don't like doing that."

You fight the tears threatening to fall. It hurts, to say the least.

"Like, why do you think I've been around for so long? I would've turned on my back long ago if you and Shou were so hard to love."

requests are open

[yesihaveaobsession]

A Morning Symphony

Alastor x female!reader

Summary: Partying too hard the night before led to being hungover, Alastor insists to help.

A/N- I always seem to write him like a little b*tch, Sorry!! HAHA😭

The sunlight streamed into your room, way too bright for how you were feeling. Your head throbbed like a badly tuned drum, and the awful taste in your mouth screamed of regret. You groaned, burying your face deeper into your pillow and yanking the blanket over your head, desperate to block out the world.

But, of course, peace wasn’t an option.

“Good morning!” came the cheery, sing-song voice of none other than Alastor. You flinched at the sound, clutching the blanket tighter as if that would keep him away.

“Go away, Alastor,” you groaned, your voice muffled by the layers of fabric.

“Oh, but I simply can’t!” he replied, his tone dripping with amusement. “What kind of friend would I be if I didn’t check on you? Especially after last night’s… festivities.”

Peeking out just enough to glare at him, you growled, “Alastor, I swear to all that’s unholy, if you don’t—”

Your threat was cut short when the room grew eerily quiet. Not the comforting kind of silence, but the unnerving, something’s-about-to-happen kind. You froze, clutching the blanket tighter.

“Alastor?” you called hesitantly. No response.

Then you heard it: static. Faint at first but growing louder, buzzing in your ears like a swarm of insects. The air turned icy, and the static morphed into distorted whispers. A chill ran down your spine just as the blanket was yanked away with dramatic flair, revealing a grinning Alastor standing way too close for comfort.

“BOO!” he exclaimed, his voice laced with that signature radio distortion.

You screamed, not from fear, but pure irritation.

“Alastor!” you snapped, grabbing a pillow and hurling it with all the strength your hungover body could muster. He sidestepped easily, dodging your weak attempt.

“You should’ve seen your face!” he howled, clutching his chest like he’d just heard the funniest joke in the world. “Absolutely priceless!”

Flopping back onto the bed with another groan, you muttered, “I’m going to kill you. Slowly. Painfully.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” he teased, leaning over you with his ever-present grin. “Come on now! I’ll whip up something to cure you. A little radio magic, a sprinkle of jazz hands, and voilà—you’ll be good as new!”

“Or,” you countered, peeking out from under your pillow, “you could leave me alone and let me die in peace.”

“Not a chance!” he chirped, adjusting his bowtie. “Your misery is far too entertaining to ignore.”

As much as you wanted to strangle him, a tiny smirk tugged at your lips. Alastor’s antics, as maddening as they were, had their own strange, comforting charm.

“Fine,” you grumbled. “But if your so-called cure makes me feel worse, I’m coming for your soul.”

His grin widened even more, if that was possible. “Ah, darling, you’ll have to get in line for that!”

[medullamindset]

STEB HEADCANONS :>

Uhhhm YEAH a few headcanons ive collected since act 3 came out in november 😸 enjoy Stebnation, or dont idk

This is very short and boring but its easier to write him in an actual scenario so TRUST IN ME MY UPCOMING STUFF WILL BE BETTER 😿

Content warnings: Established relationship w Reader, miiiild mention of knifeplay but its easily looked past. My opinion on his race.

NSFW marked this pink!

• He cannot be any older than 30. I'd bet hes like 23-27. Idk how old u have to be to be a field medic/enforcer??

• Hes around 6'4.. Tall guy. ♥︎‿♥︎

• His frill thingies seem to lie flat to his face with "down" emotions, such as shame/guilt and sadness. But they point straight out with more intense emotions, like suspense, anger, exitement, worry. I love the way they flutter sometimes, as a subtle reaction. Like when they saw the Zaunites walking over the bridge to aid in the war, his frills were like "oh, wow.."

But also how they shot straight out with suspense when Ambessa wanted Caitlyn to b commander and everyone was banging their chests and stuff.

• I'd like to imagine his frills flutter a few times in a row when he orgasms, like the shockwaves of pleasure, but also post-orgasm. Maybe they go hand in hand with his nervous system kinda?

• His tip is the same color as his eyelids. His nails seem to be beige too.

• He CAN talk he just chooses not to if he feels he doesnt need to. Short sentences if he has to, small nods and shakes of his head, LOOKS. his face is VERY expressive, but thats more of a fact than a hc. body language is a key communication of his.

• Hes def always been the quiet type, ever since he was six he hasn't been big on speaking.

But sometimes you cheat the system.. Having your back turned to him when you ask him a question just so you can hear his voice, even just to get a little "mhm" from him <3

• On the rare occasion that he does speak his voice is kinda hoarse and gravelly from lack of use UGHHHH *squirts everywhere*

• hes a bit of a "bland" person, hes not boring.. Just a very simple man. He reads practically anything, carries your bags when you're out shopping, he literally just goes wherever you wanna go. He hangs over your shoulders when you do ur makeup, cooks breakfast most mornings, cleans when he feels its needed cuz he doesn't like messes, he'll have music on in the background tho and it's usually one of your vinyls that's playing, makes him feel closer to you <3

Simple things man. deeply emotional and caring too. Hes so kind and eager to help ugh MY SHAYLAA.

• hes a bit socially awkward, he doesnt have social anxiety, hes just kinda stiff and quiet around people.

• what the fuck does he do all day, really?

• I feel like he'd like dancing with his lover but he thinks hes bad at it so hes a bit awkward <333 put his hands around ur waist for him tho and he'd turn into even more speechless mush, everytime.

• Has a gummy smile thats really evident when he laughs so he tries not too, might let a grin slip in private tho c: and close mouthed chuckling/snickers.

• Loves being carressed, hold his face in your hands and trace his cheekbones with ur thumbs? FOLDS. Running your fingers up and down the fins at the back of his head when his face is in your neck? PUTTY.

• Speaking of fins, they continue down to to his lower back, shorter at the bottom but longest between his shoulderblades. He also has darker spots(scales?) Like the other fishfolk in Arcane on his outer arms and thighs. See this post of mine for a ref :)

• he drinks alot of water, like ALOT. his throat get dry easily cuz hes.. Yk, fish.. Atleast half-fish. He'll remind his partner to do the same, no matter your race cuz its good for u, he'll nudge u with a glass in hand and a small tug at his lips, or simply just leave it beside u as a silent reminder.

• Loves holding hands. like, he just LOVES it. He'll act nonchalant abt it but on the inside his heart is just blossoming 💗

Like imagine you're at a café or a bar or a diner WHATEVER and ur just sitting infront of him yapping abt ur day or smth ur planning while holding his hand over the table, and he'll just be buzzing with love, rubbing your soft skin with his thumb, feeling lucky his blush doesnt show (⁎˃ᴗ˂⁎)

• ABSOLUTELY ADORES kisses. He just finds them so sweet and intimate (cuz they are. But i mean like, he doesn't ever NOT think about it after kissing you, hes always locked on target y'know, he only sees you. He only feels you when kissing your lips, he'll kiss u like its the end of the world.. even if hes just getting up to go to the bathroom or something.)

• he just loves you so much, please kiss him, everywhere. Theres not a single spot of him you could kiss that wouldn't make him shiver (the good way).

• Steb is not much for hardcore kinks in bed. He doesnt "fuck", he makes love. In his eyes there truly isnt any purer form of intimacy than sharing something like that, giving away a piece of yourself to this person, your souls spiritually intertwined and yadiyadayada (it's true tho)

• He will go harder if you ask him to, hes not afraid to make you scream with pleasure. Also, bite him and hes a goner. Omg if hes like treating u so nicely in the sack you gotta bite down on something to contain yourself, pls let it be his shoulder, please leave pretty imprints of you canines all over his neck and chest. And hickeys too HNNGHH

Makes him groan so deliciously. Hips snapping into yours just a liiiittle more harshly than intended.

He'll bite you back carnally if you'll let him, Steb gets so lost in it sometimes..

• Hes open to experimentation tho, like if theres something you reallyreallyreally wanna try he'll be like 'euuughgghggggrhggh okay yk what fine', as long as he doesn't have to hurt you, not too much anyway. The idea of inflicting pain-pain on the person he loves makes him queasy.

• But if hes really fucking horny at some point, watching you take the front seat and play around w his gills, scratch at his chest, put a hand around his neck or.. Idk drag a knife gently across his skin while topping he'll literally whine, digging his dull nails into your sides, holding on for dear life.

• He loves being called petnames. Serious and silly ones. His favorites have gotta be Love, Darling, Baby and pretty boy.. All the sappy stuff. One time you called him 'Gorgeous' and his frills shot straight out for a solid three seconds.. If he already didn't speak, he'd be speechless then. CUZ HES A GORGEOUS MAN.

Or that one time you called him 'fishface' and he just slumped in defeat when he heard you giggle, knowing that one was gonna stick around.

You'll enter the kitchen where hes making something to eat and just go "Hey, Fishface! So--!" Continuing to yap and he just rolls his eyes with a lopsided, lovesick grin u cant see from behind him. From anybody else it'd piss him off, but it's you, So he lets it slide.

• he has the warmest and weirdly softest fuckin hands ever. They're never clammy or sticky, just nice and toasty, perfect.

• is the type to grab your hands in the winter and rub them if theyre cold, trying to transfer his warmth over, even if hes also freezing. breathing hotly onto them.

• speaking of winter he probably HATES IT. He gets SO cold SO easy, hes shaking in his boots fr. A frozen fishstick fr. Like jesus. But the palms of his hands stay warm for some reason..

adding to that hes def a sweater fiend.. He LOVES knitted sweaters and hoodies and TURTLENECKS. HE'D LOOK SO GOOD IN A TURTLENECK. TELL ME IM WRONG. LIKE A BIG, FAT, KNITTED ONE THAT GOES UP TO HIS JAW. Even better if you knit/crocheted them for him <33

• I headcanon that his dad is a human and his mom is a fish person cuz he has hair and rounded teeth which other fishfolk we see don't. We don't see any other fishfolk from piltover tho.. So maybe hes just slapped on a wig, peel-off eyebrows and filed his teeth down (which is INSANELY painful btw) to look "socially acceptable". I HEAVILY doubt that, when i rascism like that ever shown in Arcane, Piltover specifically? 🤔 Im not even gonna get into that whole Vastaya thing cuz i dont know enough.. I heard they can decide how many animal features they show as they please and that they're like deeply connected to magic and live really long.. But that isn't mentioned or even nodded to in Arcane so im just gonna pretend that doesnt exist lol sorry

• but ya he adopted alot of his moms fishy features but also human-ish hair and teeth from his dad.

•speaking of his parents, i do feel like Steb was raised kinda strictly? Idk i just feel like his parents would be very uptight and that stuck with him all the way into adulthood, he stands super upright and is well proper while on the job because thats just what hes been taught.

hes alot more relaxed at home tho, where he knows he doesn't have to be or look presentable for anyone, especially not you. he knows you'll love him even while standing by the fridge in pj's, with a fist full of grated cheese ready to be devoured at circa 2 AM.

• He was raised in a small village on the outskirts, right beside the ocean. Hence he still adores it and loves to go swimming with you, reminds him of his childhood yk c:

• He kinda gives only child vibes to me? Idk the thought of him with an older sibling is kinda cute tho,, i imagine they'd be like complete opposites. They hardly see eachother,, I don't feel like his family lives in Piltover. He had a "Mom, Dad.. I'm 18 now..! I'm moving to the big city. And there is nothing you can do to stop me." Moment, exept in a less verbal way maybe, moving to the city of progress and begining medical and tactical training, to help people. On both sides.

• Hes really good at origami, sometimes when hes at work and droning at his desk with nothing better to do he'll just grab a random paper and fold a little swan together. You've found multiple critters like that scattered around the house, some with faces drawn on, just two inky dots and a derpy smile like this : )

Once he made one of your favorite animal and left it on your nightstand before heading to work, you picked it up and examined it, smile growing even wider when you found the hidden lovenote that was written on it <3

It's now glued neatly into your shared scrapbook/journal along with many more, surrounded by dried flowers and red hearts <33

Uhhhhhhhhhhhrghhhhhhhhhh yeah ❗️🚮 i just debated wether or not this is even worth posting for like twenty minutes.

Pls dont bash me for my opinions now *gulp*

Also heres a lil reminder that im taking requests 💗💗 i love writing i just never have good or original ideas :'o(

[watcheraurora]

A'right SaYm. The art infected me. Have a **non-canon** (but still fun, hopefully) SkizzPulse one-shot in the King's Tide universe and if it sucks... sorry? never written skizzpulse before so idk i got nothin for ya 2.4k words

CW: blood, underwater violence

—

Impulse's ear fins flicked against the sides of his hair as he and Skizz patrolled in opposite directions. The rest of the glimmer—including Tango for once, while he was visiting for a whole week—was hunting on the reef. Gathering food and supplies now that spring was coming back and the winter's deficit was over. Skizz's powerful whale shark tail carried him easily through the water and Impulse couldn't help but sneak peeks whenever their opposite circles crossed one another.

Skizz knew it too. Of course he knew. Because every time Impulse came back into view, he'd show off just a little bit. Exaggerating the side-to-side motion of his tail and smiling wide. Usually throwing Impulse a cheeky wink. Which usually earned him an eye roll from Impulse that made him cackle.

They had a job to perform, and Impulse was doing his best to not get distracted. He and Skizz, at their cores, were both protectors. It was why they always volunteered to be on watch duty. Tango, Zed, and Pearl would hunt enough for Impulse and Skizz for the week too, to make up for them keeping an eye on the glimmer. They always did—especially when Tango was visiting. He didn't have the raw power Impulse and Skizz did that came from their builds, but he was slim and fast. Apart from Pearl, Tango was probably the fastest merperson in the whole glimmer and he hunted fast and efficiently.

Impulse wasn't particularly concerned about having enough.

He carried on with his watch, ear fins turning and rotating, listening. He could hear sperm whale clicking, but they never came this way, and their clicks could be heard from miles away.

On Skizz's circle, swimming a little deeper, he swished up into Impulse's path and caught Impulse by the shoulders. A quiet, entreating whalesong pitched in his throat.

Impulse rolled his eyes affectionately. "Needy, much?" he signed with a sarcastic brow raised higher than the other one.

Skizz just shrugged and smiled cheekily.

Impulse's ear fins wiggled. "Fine," he signed.

Skizz beamed. He cradled Impulse's head between his hands and pressed their foreheads together, along with the tips of their noses. Lingering there for several long moments. Impulse's gills lifted on his neck as he took a deep breath. Just inhaling the subtle scent of his lover in the seawater. Letting it comfort him.

"You're always tense on watch," Skizz signed when he let go of Impulse's face but didn't remove his forehead. "You need to unwind a little."

Impulse pulled back enough to raise his brow again. "I'll unwind in our grotto later," he retorted.

Skizz waggled his eyebrows. "Say less," he signed playfully.

"Down, lover," Impulse signed. "Later."

Skizz pouted. Impulse rolled his eyes and bumped their foreheads together with a flick of his caudal fin.

A high-pitched trill caught their attention and both their heads snapped to one side. Away from the reef, out toward open water. Impulse pivoted and shot to follow the noise.

He swore on his hands with a single, sharp movement. "Orcas!" he signed to Skizz. "Whole pod."

Skizz repeated the swear and began to sing. A low, thrumming whalesong of warning before chittering to the whole glimmer to take cover and seek shelter on the reef.

Tango was there with Pearl in moments. "How can we help?"

"Keep Pearl safe. Keep an eye on the frys and the elders," Impulse replied.

"No way! We want to help defend," Pearl retorted.

Impulse bared his teeth. "Go. Now! Skizz and I got this."

Pearl's upper lip curled up in a snarl.

Skizz shot out of the darker waters, grabbed both of them by the waists, and hauled them back to the reef before shoving them back, signing fast, and rejoining Impulse at the very edge. "They're not gonna be happy," he signed, using his body to block his hands so Impulse's sister and surrogate brother wouldn't see.

"Too bad. I'd rather them be safe than happy. They'll deal."

Skizz took Impulse's hand for just a moment. "Ready?" he signed with one hand.

"Stay close to me."

That earned him a small smile. "Always... lover."

They turned in sync and rushed away from the reef into deeper, colder waters to intercept the pod before it could get too close to their reef.

Shark gatherings were almost as common as whale or dolphin gatherings, but sharks were nowhere near as dangerous. Orcas were bastards.

But merfolk were even more dangerous. Humans spoke of mammalian intelligence—the reason orcas, whales, and dolphins could beat sharks in conflicts. But merfolk were at the same level of intelligence as humans, and had the limbs and hands necessary to make weapons.

That said, Skizz's claw-like nails were the longest and sharpest of the whole glimmer's and Impulse's teeth could rip through mammalian flesh with ease. They rarely used their spears. They didn't often really need them.

Skizz was big for a merperson. It came with being a whale shark type. Impulse was pretty big too, though nowhere near as long. They were the strongest of the glimmer.

So when they hit the pod of orcas, they hit.

Blood began to cloud the water almost immediately as Skizz's claws tore through the first orca he came into contact with. They didn't want to kill the pod, but they wanted to frighten. Usually that was met with one or two fatalities from the pod. The glimmer would have to clear the reef fast to avoid any sharks that smelled the blood nearby...

But Impulse would worry about that later.

He lifted up above an orca and grabbed it by the blowhole, yanking as though trying to steer it to turn around and clawing with his other hand.

He snarled.

The orcas were screaming.

Another one tried to bite at him, but Skizz grabbed its dorsal fin and pulled, hurling it through the water with the kind of titanic strength that only came from being shark-type. Whale sharks were gentle giants. Skizz was too.

Until he wasn't.

"Hot," Impulse signed quickly.

Skizz shot him a wink and zipped toward another orca.

Impulse did the same, his wide, bright yellow caudal fin churning the water around him.

He grabbed an orca that tried to bite at him by the jaws and held it still long enough to beat at its underbelly with his tail before gouging out some skin with his own long nails. Not quite Skizz's claws, but still sharp and useful. He beat his tail against the wounds and moved to attack another orca.

Skizz caught his hand and slung him forward to bite.

If there were fatalities, the glimmer would make use of the entire corpses. Food, yes, and bones for tools and weapons.

Impulse briefly thought of that as blood filled his mouth as he tore.

He lost track, a bit, after that, of what happened. His brain sunk into attack mode and he turned into the apex predator that merfolk were when their glimmers were threatened. His sister, parents, and brother were back there. His friends.

And he always worried about his lover when they defended their glimmer side-by-side. But he also trusted no one more to have his back.

He shot in a loop around three orcas, clawing and biting and tearing. He was pretty sure his own arm was bleeding—based on how it was burning from the sting of saltwater—but he ignored it. The pod was already in the process of fleeing.

He snarled and growled as the last of the orcas began to leave, baring his teeth and lashing his tail.

Skizz came up beside him, carefully taking his hand and beginning to examine where an orca's teeth had, in fact, cut him. Not quite a bite, but still pretty nasty.

"You need help," Skizz signed with one hand.

Impulse shook his head. "No help. Just you," he replied.

"Fine." Skizz gathered Impulse into his arms, pressing the injured arm to his chest to hold it steady and bumped their foreheads together. Then swam Impulse back to the reef, whistling and singing to catch the glimmer's attention.

Tango, Pearl, and Zed were the first to respond, swimming fast to meet up with them. Pearl's big blue eyes widened when she saw the trail of blood clouding the water.

"What happened?" she asked.

"Orcas are bastards," Impulse signed with one hand.

Tango snickered, but nodded agreement.

"I'm gonna take him home," Skizz signed, also with one hand. "Help him."

Tango and Pearl nodded while Zed just stared, looking a little nauseous.

"We'll get everyone back to the grottos," Tango promised. He tugged on one of Zed's pink arm fins. "Come on, Zed. Let's move."

Zed finally tore his eyes away and went to go gather the rest of the glimmer. Tango was barely a fin-length behind him. Pearl stared between her brother and Skizz for a few moments.

"I'm okay, Pearl," Impulse signed. "I promise. Go help."

She blinked a few times before turning tail. The occasional silver and gold scales in her creamy-white tail flashed off the sunbeams and she rushed after Zed and Tango to go fetch the others.

Skizz gently cradled Impulse closer to his chest and turned to head home.

Skizz chittered in inquiry once or twice. "You okay?"

Impulse nodded. He wasn't that hurt. The only reason he was letting Skizz carry him was to staunch the flow of blood by holding the wounds closed against Skizz's chest. He was a little tired from the fight, but he was plenty strong enough to make the swim home on his own.

Back in the grotto they shared—one of the largest grottos the reef could offer for a pair of lovers, rather than a family, considering Skizz's size—Skizz settled Impulse in their sleeping cubby on the bed of seaweed and rifled through a somewhat makeshift storage container for a wound up wrap of seaweed that was long and flat. Which he used to bind up Impulse's arm.

"Thank you," Impulse signed.

"Anything for you, lover. Always," Skizz replied, bumping his forehead into Impulse's shoulder. "I'll go clear the water a little. Get some of the blood out of here. You rest up."

"My fin is better for that." His was broader.

"It's fine. You rest." Skizz bumped his forehead to Impulse's again and went about cycling the water out of the grotto and the water surrounding it as best he could. Impulse, lying on his left, uninjured, side, just watched with a small smile lingering on his face.

If Tango asked, no, he was not "checking Skizz out" but... damn it was hard not to. Over nine feet long and powerful in a way that was entirely unique to him... Skizz was something else. And Impulse was really lucky. He had all that muscle and the biggest heart in the glimmer all to himself.

"What are you looking at?" Skizz asked gently as he returned to their grotto after clearing the blood out of the water a bit.

Impulse left their sleep cubby to hold Skizz in the larger main area, wrapping his tail around his lover's. His right arm was hurting and sore but he mostly ignored it. "I'm looking at you," he signed, movements small and one-handed as the other wrapped around Skizz.

Who raised a brow. "Why?"

"Because you always look your most handsome after you've been in a fight protecting the glimmer." Impulse nuzzled their foreheads together, just holding his lover close. He wrapped his black tail around Skizz's whale shark one. Skizz hummed low in his throat, content and relaxing as his own arms wrapped around Impulse.

Skizz, his range of motion limited by Impulse's tail, maneuvered them both back into the sleeping cubby and snuggled in close.

"You're not a hugger," Skizz pointed out with one hand and a playfully teasing expression on his face. "So what's gotten into you?"

Impulse shrugged with his uninjured shoulder. "Just want to hold you. You're okay. I'm okay. The fight wasn't that bad."

"Were... you scared?"

"I'm always worried when we get in a fight. I trust you to watch my back but that doesn't stop me from worrying about you."

"Why?"

"You're reckless." Impulse bumped their foreheads together. "I don't want you to get hurt."

Skizz's piercing blue eyes dropped to the seaweed wrapped around Impulse's arm. He raised his eyebrows pointedly and then met Impulse's yellow gaze. "I'm not the one bleeding," he pointed out.

Impulse just shrugged.

Skizz held him tighter with one arm. "It drives me crazy, seeing you hurt. You're mine. I wanna protect you too."

"I know." Impulse finally relaxed, snuggling in and resting his head against Skizz's chest. Skizz tucked him under his chin and buried his nose in Impulse's warm brown hair. Closing his own eyes. He could feel Impulse's heartbeat, the vibration of it traveling through the water easily.

Home. Safe. Loved.

Impulse drifted off to sleep, the gills on his neck lifting and lowering with his breaths, cradled in the arms of the merman who he knew loved him more than anyone else in all the vast oceans.

—

Skizz felt Impulse fall asleep and sighed with a stream of bubbles trailing out of his mouth toward the top of the grotto. He never told Impulse how badly it grated against his protector instincts to allow his lover to protect the glimmer and the reef alongside him. Impulse was stubborn and he'd do it anyway, even if he did know. Skizz just wanted the people he cared about—and especially his favorite person, currently wrapped in his arms and tail—to be safe.

He also knew Impulse was right. The two of them were the biggest and strongest in the whole glimmer. They were the best at protecting it and they worked together well. They always had each other's back.

That didn't mean Skizz enjoyed watching his lover get hurt.

He bumped his forehead to the top of Impulse's head.

Even in sleep, Impulse bumped his own forehead to Skizz's chest.

Smiling, Skizz closed his eyes and let himself finally relax. Not quite sleeping—he had to keep an ear open toward the glimmer's waters in case anyone else needed help—but beginning to doze in and out with his lover held close.

you know, im not sure ive ever drawn art for a fic, featuring a ship thats not even in said fic. However i was posessed by the skizzpulse demons and i just loved drawing @watcheraurora's kings tide designs so much i couldn't help myself 🤭

close up under the cut vv

[frownyalfred]

Nearly all my AO3 bookmarks are unhinged (positive) comments for my organization system, and I need you to know that, unironically, a non zero numbers of my bookmarks of your stuff is stuff like, “No Alfred chopping wood, 6.5/10”, “Hal jumpscare. Have learned something about myself today. 8.43/10”, or “Is a WIP. Mean :( 4/10”

The number-crunching process is…intricate, lol.

My bookmarks are also entirely private. I only bookmark writing I love, but I don’t wanna accidentally upset someone when they reasonably interpret things differently, you know? Especially w/authors like you who have written enough for some serious variety and might be worried about people reacting immaturely to new kinds of fic.

I enjoy everything you put out, both for the stuff I found you for (SuperBat for days) and things I honestly used to consider a squick of mine (You have rewritten my brain with your A/B/O AUs)!

I appreciate both your rating system and your care in making sure it's private to prevent misunderstandings. I think I'd be 90% more chill about ratings in bookmarks if they gave an explanation like you described -- though I don't speak for all authors and sometimes the rating itself, even with context, is a slap in the face.

I do think you bring up an important thought here. So much of our tone online is context-dependent, and authors and bookmarkers are sometimes operating in very different circles. Meaning can get lost easily, and feelings can be hurt easily without that being the intention. Keeping things private unless we're certain the author won't be hurt makes the most sense to me right now, until we come up with a better system.

An example of this came to me as I was writing this reply. A few months ago I had someone reblogging my posts on here and tagging them "pedantic." And while yes, I agree that most of my posts are probably a little pedantic, that still stung. I mean, pedantic? You think I'm pedantic? That's all you have to say about it? Why are you reblogging it then?

So I went to their blog, read their pinned post, and realized they had a complex tagging system set up for archiving. "Pedantic" was their own tag for posts that were either longer than a paragraph, or that got into greater detail about certain topics. Their explanation/tag summary made perfect sense after that, but from my POV back on my own blog? All I get is the "pedantic" which again, didn't feel great.

That's all to say -- reader and writer relationships are a push and pull, a constant evaluation of ourselves and others, and we should seek to be kind and perhaps overly cautious when possible. Too many things already get lost in translation here on the internet.

[wonboni]

ོ˚•『 SEASONS ┆L.HS

『•˙synopsis: dating probably the most handsome man came with some obstacles here in there, insecurity being one of them.

『∙˙pairing: non idol! lee heeseung x insecure! fem reader

『•˙genre: fluff,a bit of angst,comfort,happy ending

『•˙warnings: mentions of a pet name’s, insecurities mentioned,

『•˙word count: 1.1k

『•˙note: y’all sum bout heeseung

You never thought you’d be here—sitting on the couch in your living room, feet tucked under a blanket, your head resting on his shoulder. The man beside you, Lee Heeseung, is, without a doubt, the most handsome man you’ve ever seen. He’s not a celebrity, not an idol (thankfully, you think), but there’s something about him—his smile, his eyes, his laugh—that has you feeling like the luckiest person in the world.

But sometimes, the world around him makes you feel… small. Heeseung had always been naturally charismatic, with the kind of looks that could turn heads wherever he went. And you? Well, you were just you. No matter how much you tried to convince yourself it didn’t matter, there were days when the insecurity crept in, like a heavy cloud threatening to dampen everything.

"You're just so… perfect," you whispered one evening, your voice tinged with doubt. Heeseung was sitting next to you, scrolling through his phone, likely reading the thousands of messages and comments that fans left for him every day. They loved him—adored him. And sometimes, when you saw how easily they showered him with praise, you couldn’t help but wonder how he’d even look at you.

His fingers stopped scrolling, and his gaze immediately landed on you, sensing the tone in your voice. "What do you mean, baby?" He had that soft way of calling you "baby" that always made your heart flutter. But tonight, it didn’t feel as reassuring as it usually did. It felt heavy, the uncertainty gnawing at you.

You shrugged, trying to shake off the thoughts but failing miserably. "I don’t know. Sometimes I feel like I’m not enough. I mean… you’re so, well, perfect and I’m just… me."

Heeseung tilted his head, a little confused, but his expression quickly softened with understanding. He placed his phone down, focusing entirely on you. "Babe," he said, his voice steady, as though trying to anchor you in this moment, "you’re more than enough. You’re more than everything I could ever ask for."

But your insecurities were stubborn. "But Heeseung, look at you. You’re always getting attention. People love you, admire you, and I’m just…" You paused, unsure how to even finish the sentence.

Heeseung gently cupped your face, lifting your chin so that your eyes met his. His gaze was warm, sincere, and there was an undeniable tenderness in the way he looked at you, as though you were the most precious thing in his life. "And that’s why I love you. Because you don’t need to be anything other than you." His thumb brushed across your cheek. "I’m not perfect, and neither are you. But together, we make something pretty damn special."

"But… it’s hard," you admitted quietly, feeling the weight of the comparison you couldn’t shake. "Sometimes, I just feel like I’m not worthy of you."

Heeseung let out a soft sigh, pulling you closer so that you were nestled against his chest. "Listen to me, my little marshmallow," he said, and you couldn't help but smile at the ridiculous pet name, but it warmed your heart. "You are more than enough for me. You’re perfect the way you are, and that’s exactly why I’m here with you. Not because of some image the world has of me, but because I see you—and I love every little thing about you."

You shifted slightly, still feeling unsure, but the weight of his words was beginning to lift the burden you carried. Heeseung always had a way of making things feel lighter, even when they were heavy.

"You're the one who makes my world brighter," he continued, his voice softer now, but still full of conviction. "I’m with you because you make me happy. Not because of your looks, or your achievements, or anything like that. I’m with you because you are you—and that's everything to me."

You leaned into him, the warmth of his embrace feeling like a safe space from the whirlwind of insecurities in your mind. "But I’m not perfect," you murmured, the words slipping out before you could stop them.

Heeseung chuckled softly, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. "Of course, you’re not perfect. But neither am I. And you know what? I’m perfectly fine with that. I love you for your quirks, for your flaws, for your silly little habits. I love the way you laugh, the way you look at me when you think I’m not looking. I love everything about you, even when you’re being your clumsy little self."

You couldn’t help but smile, feeling the warmth of his affection sink into your chest. Heeseung always knew how to make you feel like you were the most important person in the room. "Clumsy little self, huh?" you teased, nudging him playfully.

He grinned, his eyes lighting up with that familiar mischief. "Yep. And I love that about you. You’re my perfect mess."

You laughed, a genuine sound that felt so freeing. And for the first time in a while, you realized how true his words were. You didn’t need to be perfect to be loved. In Heeseung’s eyes, you were already everything he could ever want.

The next few weeks were a journey, but Heeseung remained by your side, constantly reassuring you of his love. He would send you sweet texts, always ending with little pet names like cutie-pie, sugarplum, and baby bear. The way he would call you those silly names, teasing you playfully but always with so much affection, made you feel cherished in a way you hadn’t realized you needed.

One evening, after a long day, you found yourself in his arms again, the warmth of his presence washing over you. "Heeseung," you whispered, "do you really think I’m perfect?"

He smiled down at you, his fingers gently combing through your hair. "I don’t need you to be perfect. I just need you to be you. And that’s more than enough."

And in that moment, wrapped in his arms, you realized just how true those words were. In Heeseung’s eyes, you didn’t need to change anything. You were already perfect to him—imperfectly perfect, and that was all that mattered.

From that day forward, you still had moments of doubt, moments when insecurity tried to sneak in. But Heeseung was always there, reminding you with his soft words and affection that you were enough. And in his love, you found the confidence to believe it yourself.

In the end, it wasn’t about being perfect—it was about being loved just as you were. And that love, in all its imperfect, beautiful, and warm glory, was enough to fill your heart with happiness every single day.

©️ WONIBONI

[fatuismooches]

Celestia has fallen, ending a period of turmoil, meaning you and Dottore are free to do what you want with the rest of your lives - but both of you have trouble getting accustomed to this new, strangely peaceful life.

Seeing the sky completely clear save for puffy clouds was a sight that still took getting used to, after all, the island that had once been there was commonplace for everyone. But now, after a long and arduous war, and centuries of preparation and loss, it was over. Celestia had been defeated, the era of rebuilding was slow yet steady, and the Fatui had disbanded shortly after their victory.

... Meaning that you and Dottore, who once had much to do and worry about, now had... very little to do and worry about. His once-important experiments had reached their peak, and what's more, you were finally free from your illness. There was no need for all-nighters spent hastily writing notes, creating new concoctions for you, tending to the darker side of his work. Similarly, the days spent in anguish and sickness had now become a memory of the past, although your body was still slowly recovering.

So what was there to do now?

That was what you thought as you lay in the dark, cuddling close to Zandik's chest in your new home. It was an odd feeling - having him this close for days on end - sleeping with you from nightfall to the sun rising. It was once an exceedingly rare occurrence, from when he was once a busy Harbinger, but here he was still in bed. (Although he still had a habit of waking up early - whether he laid there and stared at you, or got up to find something to busy himself with was still a fifty-fifty chance.)

To be honest, now that you thought about it, you never had a real, fleshed-out plan on what to do after everything was over. All you had was the first step - acquire a spacious and cozy home in Sumeru to settle down. And well, that had been accomplished surprisingly easier than you anticipated - The Jester had gifted you such a house in a perfect spot - leaving it as a goodbye gift.

In the beginning, the days had been as leisurely as possible, bordering on lazy. Sleeping in late into the day, hours upon hours spent appreciating each other's presence and body. You defended it as making up for centuries of lost time, although Dottore didn't protest in the first place. Dinner was spent quietly outside, looking up at the sky that was no longer false. However, it was obvious both of you were growing a bit restless - which was why you quickly came up with a plethora of new things to do.

—

"Let's start a garden!"

And so had started a common goal between you two - although another issue that had been presented in this new relaxing life was Dottore's lingering hesitation to trust you with certain activities. Constantly he was keeping an eye on your every move or stepping in himself, even though he knew you could do some things yourself now.

Truthfully, you couldn't blame him, already aware that overprotectiveness that lasted centuries wouldn't go away so easily, but that was something that would have to be worked through slowly. He was still performing a routine check-up on your every day...

"Zandik, it's just digging up some soil. You're acting like the worms are going to attack me or something."

"... Just make sure not to scrap your knees."

"I'm also not a child- darling, what are you injecting into the plants...?" Your husband only smiled, his sharp teeth gleaming.

"This? Do not worry, we won't consume these ones. This is simply... a test to indulge my curiosity."

Well, you always knew his love of experimenting would never truly go away! Maybe you'll get some cool, fucked up, weird mutated plants!

—

"Let's get a kitty so Foxttore has a friend!"

Despite all the tragedy you'd endured, Foxttore was one of the few things that remained with you the whole time, even after the way. The creature quite liked Sumeru after surviving Snezhnaya - it was always lazily sunbathing and refused to come in. Dottore still kept his habit of locking it out.

The pufflings too of course - but they had made the two of you become the gossip of the children - turns out the black puff balls started playing with the kids and kept returning to your house, making them whisper about "the two weird grown-ups who live out in the middle of nowhere." You were amused.

Regardless of your reputation, now you and your husband were in the perfect environment to finally own a cute kitty. The lab wasn't exactly the ideal place for such an animal, after all.

... So now, an equally as lazy cat could be found sleeping on Zandik's lap as he read by the window, giving it languid tummy rubs and pets. Foxttore wasn't invited.

—

"Let's go exploring!"

When you had dropped this idea on Zandik, he had given you a strange look.

"All this time, you had been pleading with me to stay inside and relax, but now you wish to go and exert yourself?" Despite his remarks, you could tell Zandik wished to do something with his hands as well.

"Well, this is because it's going to be fun! It'll be like we're students again!"

And with that, you two were back inside the huge Ruin Golem in the forest. To be honest, there was not much to actually explore here, but... it was nostalgic. It was places like these where the two of you spent a lot of time together, and where he told you of his grand ambitions as a young scholar.

And even after all this time, the former Harbinger was still fascinated with the technology, already playing with something, to which you joined him. No doubt he already knew the answer, but it was something to keep his once-overworked mind occupied.

"Guess the two of us aren't cut out for this 'normal life' stuff, eh? Coming back here even though there's nothing left to be discovered. Think the notes we left are still here?"

"That's impossible. They must have long eroded by now," he briefly commented, hands still running over the cool metal.

"So... wanna test if you're still motion-sick?"

—

"Let's teach you how to cook... again!"

Loads of spare time had come with nothing better to do than to attempt to make the impossible become possible once again, which was why you had the Harbinger turned house husband in the kitchen with you, equipped with an apron you forced him to wear if he wanted any sweets.

This time you had decided to forget actual food and make one, singular, cupcake. Surely he couldn't mess that up, right?

You made him clean the kitchen after throwing out the burnt apron.

—

In conclusion, there were still lots of things that could fill the endless time you two were given. But there was still something you wanted, although you weren't sure how to bring it up.

The loss of the segments still remained a wound in your heart, although you moved on from all those years ago. More specifically, Zandy was someone you held extremely dear in your heart and memories. The child had changed your life, and Dottore's too - opening his own heart to softness - which was something you longed for too.

However, naturally, you were nervous asking Zandik about it. After all, becoming a father was probably not something he saw himself doing. Of course, your anxiety was quickly recognized by your lover, who beckoned you one night.

"What plagues your mind?" His question startled you, and although you knew he'd come around to asking eventually, you still weren't prepared to answer properly. But you knew you'd have to come out with it soon.

"There's... something I want."

"Tell me," Zandik quickly reassured you. "I'm sure it is within my capabilities."

"I... I don't know if you'd want to," you awkwardly admitted, to which your husband gave you a hard look, and then moved to squeeze your hand.

"I can only determine that if you tell me what it is you desire." With a sigh, you had to agree.

"I've been thinking... about our... family," the last word was uttered softly, as if you still couldn't believe things reached this point.

"There's you, me, Foxttore, the pufflings, our kitty Beaker, and I guess the crows around here could count too... and I love everyone a lot!" Dottore hummed in agreement, rubbing his fingers over your knuckles.

"But... what if we added someone else to our family? A... c-child, perhaps," you finally blurted out your confession, working up the courage to look at him directly. Speaking of, he had stopped wearing that mask of his now, so you were always subject to his brilliant red eyes. As such, you witnessed the gems widen slightly and his jaw slacken. Quickly you rushed to continue.

"I-I know it'll be a lot of work and responsibility but together we can do it! And I know it probably isn't something you thought of but I'll be here with you all the way... I know you won't let the past repeat itself," you murmured, well aware of how he was treated as a child. Dottore's gaze had moved to the stars, still silent at your words, which was making you worry at this point.

"If-"

"It is not something I am opposed to," Zandik finally admitted, and you had to hold back a sigh of relief.

"Truly?"

"Yes. However..." He trailed off, perhaps wondering how to articulate the fears you already knew full well - how could someone like him ever be a loving father? Did he even have that capability? How could he hold his child with his stained hands?

"I understand," you squeezed his hand. "We'll figure it out together," you promised, "just like how we figured everything else out. How else would we have stayed together for a couple hundred years?" You gently teased him to which he finally looked at you again, an unusually soft look in his eyes.

"We will," Zandik agreed, kissing you on your forehead.

—

Time continued to move, and from a student to Harbinger, Zandik now found himself a parent, who was now cuddled in between him and you - though you were already fast asleep, while his daughter had woken him up in the middle of the night. The fact that Dottore hadn't woken up earlier was a testament to how much he loosened up these past years...

"Go back to sleep. I won't take you out to the forest if you're too tired." The young girl pouted at her father's strictness.

"But it's not my fault! I'm too excited to watch you do your experimenting stuff!" (In reality, all they were doing was collecting samples of plants.) With a sigh, the man stroked her hair.

"Oh! Oh! How about you sing the song they always sing to you when you're grumpy! That always makes you relax!" His daughter seemed to have picked up some of your cheeky, bargaining habits...

"If you do, will you quiet down?" The girl quickly nodded.

"Very well..." And so, he began humming a tune, that was rather off-key despite you teaching it to him quite a few times, but his little girl didn't seem to notice much.

In the dark, you secretly smiled at the sweet interaction. To think after centuries of pain, you finally obtained such a life...

Everything would be okay, in the end.

[mischiefmaker615]

Use You (1 of ?)

Summary: Loki shows up at your brothel with an offer. What could go wrong?

Note: Not sure how many parts this will have. while writing a one shot (in which in intended on being, my demon had other plans).

Requested song inspiration: Use Me by Johnny Blue Skies & Dove Cameron & Diplo

Requester: @bri_lostinharmony (wattpad)

Rating: R

The only sound in the room was the wood creaking under the pressure of your fingers, stabilizing yourself while your heart seemed to stop and your eyed lied to you. There was no way in Hel he was here.. your breathing seemed to stare the same pace with your heart, feeling light headed to whom stood before you with a pointed finger and a careful look in his eye.

‘’that one.’’

His tone was sharp and left no room for questions. Of course, no one would dare to question or deny him anyway, he was Loki after all, second prince of Asgard, and if he wanted something, he would get it.

‘’yes my Lord, right away- let me just clean her up for yo-‘’ your head mistress started, daring to begin standing between you and Loki before he seemed to easily wave her off.

‘’no need, she will do as is. Any necessary actions can to done by me.’’ Loki said carefully, this entire time his eyes not having left yours while your already sore legs began shaking.

How could he be here.. out of all brothels.. this was impossible! You had specifically chosen out the farthest one in the city of Asgard to avoid this damn risk. Yet you didn’t realize the one whom you would run into that you knew, was Loki. Of course, you had no special relationship with each other. You were one of his maids in the palace, paid decent and treated better. Yet.. you wished for better things for yourself, and better things meant needing more money. It was unheard of to ask for more pay, so you took on the second job- and the only job that would hire you.

It was hard at first, being treated and seen as a whore.. technically you are. But you always told yourself it was for the greater good, to reach that goal you were SO close on reaching! But that chance might have practically shattered right in front of you while the second prince of Asgard took slow steps forward, his eyes seeming to wait and expect for you to lead the way.

Was it treason? No.. but quite possibly an insult to be found out you had gotten a second job. An insult and seen as ungrateful to the palace. You didn’t expect anyone to understand.. you needed to leave here.. but would Loki do something? Would he see you as ungrateful for your place in the palace with the need to have to get a second job and choose to cast you out? you didn’t want to think about that.. for once, your body’s soreness acted like a distraction from your thoughts while you dropped your eyes and turned around.

‘He's just another client..’ you told yourself while you started up the stairs, having a strong feeling his eyes were on your ass, which somehow made the simple dress feel a whole lot thinner. The wood creaked slightly louder behind you, indicating he was much taller and heavier than you were, granted he also came in wearing his royal armor- except his helmet.

It wasn’t uncommon to hear or see royals come to the brothels, usually in groups but sometimes alone. Loki had very little stories of him appearing at one of these places- most rumors indicated he preferred bringing them back to bed them in the palace instead. Your cheeks reddened at the very thought about having to sleep with him… would it be awkward back at the palace? Would rumors start? Would this be painful? Your mind ran a hundred miles a minute, you mis stepped and began falling forward. Before embarrassment could consume you, you felt two slender hands grasp firmly at your waist to stabilize you, making you nearly yelp in surprise and straightened quickly.

The hands vanished from your body as quickly as they had appeared, you nearly missed him murmur “careful”. His voice was quiet, almost as if he were trying to keep the words a secret but there was no authority or anger in his voice. The unexpectedness of it alone nearly frightened you while you opened a door and stepped inside of the dark, empty room with him following.

‘’I am curious on why you find this extra income necessary.’’ His voice finally said, loud enough where there way no doubt you had heard him and your squeezed your eyes shut, finally landing on the topic you wished to avoid.

You knew this was probably the end. You’ve insulted the royals with your ungratefulness and felt yourself spinning around, your head low in a mid-bow with your hands clasping each other in a pleading position. ‘’I’m sorry my prince- it was never my intention to insult the royal-‘’

Loki’s raised palm made you shut up, an amused look on his face spread upon his features while you shook his head. ‘’what you do in your spare time is none of my concern love, I am merely wishing to know if you are being mistreated and try to find other means of supporting yourself.’’

You blinked at him in surprise. To be honest, if one was mistreated at the palace, a snitch was better off banished. Yet his concern was.. unexpected. Why would he care? ‘’no no.. I am treated very well at the palace your majesty.. I am merely trying to earn enough for- something..’’ you then slowed your words, unsure if you’ve shared to much or if he cared to know.

‘’well do to your pay at the palace, it would seem it is not merely the amount that is the problem, but the quickness of it. Do to the fact that we have abundance in everything, my only guess is that you wish to leave. Asgard.’’ He guessed, having made his way around the room to look around and held back his judgmental expression.

The room was dimly lit, the sunlight being toned down by the heavy curtains over the windows. The bed was simple, small and in the center of the room and that was all. thin sheets, and metal railings to make up for the headboard. You almost felt as judgy as he might have been- a royal coming to some sad shack like this. There was no way in Hel he was this horny to come down to this level.. which meant-

‘’why are you here?” you blurted out, your hands clasping over your mouth to late where he casually turned to face you while unclasping his cape from his shoulders.

‘’isn’t it obvious?” be mused, making you blush with the reminder and glanced down, not daring asking any more questions but he seemed to reach your mind anyway while he lay his cape aside at the foot of the bed.

‘’I had a day off, court had ended sooner than usual.’’

You raised a confused brow as you looked at him, hands slowly lowering back to your sides while he sat himself on the bed, clearly amused by your wonderings and lack of speech- or daring of it. Day off or not, he could have bedded anyone in the palace- willingly or not, let alone a better brothel.

‘’I followed you.’’

‘’you- ..you followed me?” you almost choked out, clearly confused and shyness consuming your body once he reached out a hand towards you. You hadn’t felt shy in such a long time, not after your new job had numbed you to the bone. Yet Loki.. Loki always tended to have that affect on you, and he knew it.

‘’come here,’’ he said gently, and you felt your feet begin to slowly move forward while your dainty hand reached out to take his, letting him pull you the rest of the way until you stood between him legs with his eyes gazing up at you. ‘’hold still.’’

Your job was to do what your client required, paid for.. frankly, he might actually get the service for free considering who he was. You didn’t dare move, not even as his hand moved to grasp your hip, keeping you still while the other moved up to lay flat against your chest. You were unsure if this was some start of foreplay, but with a sharp inhale, you noticed how he had closed his eyes with a concentrated expression. Your skin then began to feel tingly everywhere, panic threatening to make you move if you didn’t remind yourself to obey.

You decided to close your eyes, to wait to further instruction while you pondered on the strange feeling that seemed to crawl over your skin. Suddenly you noticed the soreness spread over your body seemed to be disappearing. Any gross residue or filth you took note of seemed to vanish with no lingering feeling. It’s as if you were in the bath without water, and a healing ointment you usually got when you returned to the palace- but netter.

When the strange feeling subsided, you exhaled a breath you didn’t realize you had been holding while your shoulders seemed to relax. Fluttering your eyes down, your body tensed to find Loki smirking up at you, his eyes gentle but looking smug at you relishing in his ability to clean and heal you.

‘’feeling well?”

‘’y-yes my prince.. thank you..’’

‘’my prince,’’ he echoed, amusement in his voice as his hands released you so he could lay back on the bed with his elbows propping himself up to continue looking at you. ‘’I was unaware of how possessive you could be.’’

‘’that’s not-‘’ you stopped yourself, daring not to correct the prince whom you guessed had been merely jesting and instead buried your restless fingers to play with your dress fabric at your sides. ‘’..how may I service you my prince?”

‘’I want you to go back to the palace with me.’’

Your eyes went wide as your body tensed again. You clearly didn’t intend on looking stupid at him while you stuttered out a ‘’what?-‘’ when you clearly heard him, but the amused look on his handsome face also made it hard to process things.

‘’I want you to go back to the palace, with me.’’ He said a little more slowly, as if he wasn’t clear enough while he drank in every expression he pulled out of you.

‘’..my Lord.. I.. just cant leave my seco-‘’

‘’you do not need to whore yourself to gain money more quickly Y/N, you will be paid fairly to your needs at my hand.’’

‘’at.. your hand?”

‘’you will be my personal whore, no one else’s until you see fit it is time to venture where you wish to escape too.’’ He said it so smoothly, it’s as if there was no ounce of insult in his words.

His.. personal whore? To be bedded by him and only him, no one else.. you weren’t even sure what sex was like with him in the first place- although it was granted to me much better than all the pigs combined that stumbled in here. You hoped.. but you still weren’t sure of his sudden offer..

‘’my prince i.. my job here is to service yo-‘’

‘’yes, and I wish to service you.’’ Loki said firmly, yet gentle. This brought out a puzzled look on your face which only brought out a smirk on his own while he extended a hand out to you. ‘’I have a proposal then. Let me service you, here.. right now.. if you are satisfied, you are to return with me, quit this job and receive the funds necessary back at the palace while being my one and only whore. When and wherever I want, no one else. If you are dissatisfied, I shall pay you for your time here as a regular customer, and leave you be to your second income inhabitance like I never had set eyes on you. Do we have a deal?”

You were shaking now, beyond red cheeked and mind spinning. This could very well send you much faster to leaving Asgard.. -but why you? Your eyes lift to look at him, hesitant but careful while he gazed at you with no impatience or amusement. They held nothing but.. softness.

‘’..why me? You could bed anyone yo-‘’

‘’they are not you darling.’’ he cut you off, shaking his head with a soft voice. ‘’my eyes only find you. My mind only thinks of you. My body only craves you. I often find myself purposely crossing your path with eagerness to get to see you. Court granted me a blessing today, and allowed me to follow you. Yes it may have been unwanted, but your safety was all of my concern. It indeed shocked me to find out where you passed your time.’’ He almost tsked you, yet you found no judgement on his face while your eyes fluttered down to his offered hand.

‘’dare I ask again darling, it is all your decision.’’

Your teeth captured your bottom lip, finding truly no downside to any of this yet your mind reminded you of what he was. A trickster.

Yet you took his hand anyway. 

TAG LIST IS OPEN, LET ME KNOW

DM a song for your own Loki Musical Mischief one shot :D

Tag List: @foxherder13 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @fire-in-her-veinz @nervouseden @kathren1sky-blog @eleniblue @lokiswife-dark-fox-queen @queenofstarsign85 @slytherinqueen4life @soulpiercing

[catgirlcalling]

Potential dialogue prompt:

"What did I do? Was i too much for you?"

"Oh god no Evan, it's me. I'm the one who's not enough, you're perfect."

We have a winner folks, you got me! Thank you so much for the prompt, because I just wrote my first little fanficlet since I was in the LOTR fandom back in 2004 😅 Here you go:

"What did I do? Was I too much for you?"

"Oh god no Evan, it's me. I'm the one who's not enough, you're perfect."

I’m not, is on the tip of Bucks’ tongue, and he knows Tommy can see it on his face when he presses on before the protest forms.

“The way you just accepted yourself, you agreed to a date with a man with no hesitation when you’d only realised it was an option a minute before,” a sad smile crosses Tommy’s face that Buck feels himself mirroring. “The way you didn’t question it until we ran into Eddie, and even then you were more worried you’d hurt me and lied to him than you were about coming out. You came out at your sisters’ wedding without a care in the world,”

Tommy pauses and looks up at the high ceiling of the loft. Buck watches his fingers clench and unclench in his lap as he tries to find the words, soot from the four alarm fire staining his nails still. Both the 118 and the 217 had been called to the warehouse fire and by luck, or serendipity or another damn curse they’d run into each other on site.

After an awkward minutes silence staring at each other between the firetrucks, something in Buck had finally snapped. He needed answers, but mostly he wanted…needed to talk to Tommy. But not here.

“Uhm, h-hi,” he stammers, then steels himself, tries to think what his therapist would tell him to do. “There’s a lot I want to say, a-and I think we need to talk, but we’re working. Call me, when we’re done?”

He swallows hard, and moves to walk past Tommy when he gets no answer after a beat. Before he makes it past the end of the truck, he hears Tommy’s voice, low and sad. “Yeah, ok.”

Which was how they ended up here, seated at the kitchen counter in Bucks loft, the deja vu from the last time they sat here not lost on either of them.

Tommy’s eyes finally fall and return to Buck’s, with a gentle sigh, “You said you admired me, and the way you talked about me…I don’t deserve any of that praise. I’m not perfect, Evan. I’ve done and said some awful things just to save my own skin, I was ashamed of who I am for so long, and I’m even a little jealous of you for how easily you accepted yourself and how you stood up for others. The way you see me, it’s amazing, it is…but it’s not me. And I won’t be able to take it the day you see me for the mess I really am. You deserve better than me, Evan. You’re perfect, and I’m so far from it. I didn’t do it just to protect my own heart, but yours too.”

Buck feels the tears sting his eyes as he stares Tommy down, weighing up his words. Then with a sniffle, and to Tommy’s surprise- a chuckle, he gives him a watery grin.

“The day you kissed me, what was I teasing you for?” Buck asked, making Tommy duck his head and give his own sniffly chuckle.

“You have the worst fake mouth static, and you’re a terrible liar- not as bad as Chim but you’re up there. Your taste in coffee is just weird, that amount of sugar is insane. You and my best friend made fun of me for believing in curses. I know you’re not perfect, Tommy. But I was an absolute brat the entire time I was cursed, whining and insecure and needy and too much and….” He pauses and takes a breath, leaning over and reaching for Tommy’s hand, hoping he doesn’t pull away.

“And you saw all of that, and looked after me anyway. You cared even when I was being my worst. Even when you dumped me, even right now I care about you. I know you’re not perfect Tommy…but I-I think you are perfect for me. We can work this out together. Please?”

Buck’s fingers brush against his across the kitchen bench, and they tangle together. Tommy doesn’t pull away.

X

[luwritesstuff]

Hi! Could you possibly do something with Eddie Diaz? Maybe his Tia sets you up on a date 🙏🏽

this one was so cute and fun to write 🙊 let me know if you'd want a part 2!

Dating in the 21st Century

wc: 831

Pepa Diaz has been your mom’s client for years now. No one gave manicures like her and Pepa had ended up becoming her best friend in the process. You'd even met Pepa once or twice at the salon, and the occasional lunch your mom dragged you to.

It wasn't uncommon for your mom to try to set you up, it had become somewhat of a ritual of you gently letting guys down and reporting back to your mom on everything that had gone wrong on the date. So when she came to you to tell you about Pepa’s nephew, you couldn't hold back the sigh that escaped you.

“Mama, that's very sweet of Pepa, but I don't know if I have another blind date in me,” you called over your shoulder while you finished mopping the front of the salon. You didn't work there full time anymore, but you still helped out where you could.

Your mom tsk’ed you and pinched your side, “Don't be so pessimistic! I wouldn't tell you about him if I didn't think it was a good idea. Pepa showed me pictures, he's very pretty, mija,” she wiggled her eyebrows and managed to pull a small smile out of you, “Just one date, yeah? You can leave early if you hate it, but promise me you’ll try. His name is Eddie, you'll love him.”

You never really could say no to your mom, ultimately. You cursed her internally while doing the finishing touches to your makeup and adjusting your sundress. With any luck, you wouldn't have to go through this whole routine again anytime soon. Maybe your mom would give you a break after this one. After a final glance in the mirror, you threw your bag over your shoulder and left to meet your date at a small cafe you'd agreed on earlier in the week.

You arrived to find Eddie waiting by the entrance in a cream, long sleeved shirt and dark wash jeans. In an effort to keep an open mind like you'd promised your mom, you let yourself admire the way his shirt tightened around his biceps. So Pepa wasn't lying, he was attractive. “Hi, Eddie right?” You smiled and held a hand out to shake his.

After introducing yourself, you both ordered a latte and a pastry before finding a table on the patio to sit in the sun. Eddie was a perfect gentleman, he paid for your drink, held your chair out for you, made sure the sun wasn't in your eyes. You felt a sudden relief and let yourself relax into your seat. “Your Tia is your biggest fan, by the way. Her and my mom wouldn't let me rest until I agreed to meet the 'most amazing young man in LA’,” you teased, grinning at Eddie over the rim of your mug.

Eddie blushed easily and you filed that away for later. “She's all talk. She's just getting tired of me being single,” he laughed and leaned back in his chair, “you'd think her full time job was setting me up on dates.” You let out a dramatic groan, “You too? My mom bought me a subscription to a dating app for my birthday last year!”

This made Eddie let out a shocked laugh and you noticed the way his eyes crinkled and you were already thinking of ways to get him to laugh more. You took turns telling first date horror stories and making each other laugh. Eddie was good at that, you found. You hadn't laughed like that in ages, not in a way that wasn't forced or awkward. Eddie told you about his son, showed you pictures, and the way you took in each one made Eddie’s heart leap with possibilities. Maybe his Tia was right, maybe you'd be good for him.

“I just feel like there's so much pressure to date, you know? I have to act a certain way, say the right things, it's exhausting. I just want to be myself,” you sighed and Eddie felt more secure than he had in years. He agreed wholeheartedly and you felt comfort in knowing that you were with someone who wasn't interested in putting on an act or playing some stupid game.

After another few hours and more shared pastries, Eddie walked you to your car. For the first time in what felt like forever, you didn't feel the need to come up with some lame excuse and you found yourself wishing the day was longer. You didn't have to ask if Eddie felt the same way, he pressed a careful kiss to your cheek and squeezed your hands in both of his own. “Can I see you again?” he whispered and you nodded, returning the kiss to his cheek, “Please.”

Your mom and Pepa spent their next appointment gossiping over your date, and the two dates after. And they were totally not smug about it, only saying ‘I told you so’ a reasonable four times.

[lets-try-some-writing]

Finally bunkering down to get into the TF1 fic department. I've got a nice simple one shot I'm cooking up for all of you to ease into this new continuity. No promises on when it will be done considering I've got irl crap to deal with, but here's the title and a snippet.

Sometimes Apologizing Is Enough

“Why can’t I go instead? I can do it. I can land the killing blow.” Bee, in all his eternal empathy, stepped up to Prowl and gestured to where Optimus was already strapped down. Optimus wished he could confidently dismiss the unspoken fears of those present. He wished he did not still have an aching pit in his spark where youthful yearnings urged him to use this chance for selfish reasons. Yet, he knew what his wistful dreams desired. He was going to struggle with what was to come during his final act as Prime.

“No, I will not have you do this, Bee. If I kill D-16, it will look like a crime of passion. While Orion Pax will grieve, it will pass as all things do.” Optimus could only shake his helm from his place hooked up to countless wires he was unable to trace or identify. Bee went quiet at his gentle retort, his friend’s optics widening in disbelief as Optimus continued.

“But if you do it. If you strike him down on my behalf… Orion will never let you escape. It is very possible that he- I could become just as great of a threat if pushed to act.” Bee winced, a fact Optimus noted with a soft sigh. It was distant history for him, but once he was rambunctious, eager and filled with passion. If Bee went back and did what had to be done, there was a very good chance Orion Pax could take up the mantle Megatron held in their current reality.

It could not be allowed.

“I’m willing to die if it means my friends will live.” Bee’s retort was faint, filled with static from old injuries poorly healed. Optimus’s gaze softened seeing the distress on his friend’s face. Bee was always nobler than him when it came to sacrifice. Where his dear friend was willing to offer everything for the sake of their freedom, Optimus was unable to let go of one mech who was, for all intents and purposes, long dead.

“That is noble, but the point remains. It must be me, or else my younger counterpart is bound to react unpredictably, whereas you and Elita are unlikely to lose yourselves if the crime appears to be accidental.” Again, he restated his point. He tried to smile to ease Bee’s concerns, but it did little. The former scout looked a moment away from breaking down as he pressed a servo to the glass separating them, his expression pulled taut in grief.

“Can you really do it though? You’ve always had a soft spot for Dee, even though we all know what he is now.” Optimus could not help the pang of guilt that flooded his processor at the critique, but he took it in stride. There was no point lying now.

“There is nothing I can say to ease your worries entirely, my friend. I am incapable of denying the lingering attachment to the one I once called brother.” Optimus’s voice rose above the faint hum of the machinery around him, hopefully reaching the audials of all those present to witness his last march.

“However, I promise you that I will do everything in my power to ensure this reality does not repeat itself a second time.” The promise came easily, and unlike the countless others made during their long war, this one did not burden him with guilt. It was an oath he’d taken long ago, in the silence of his quarters when the plan to change history was presented. To utter it aloud merely made it tangible, like a brand on his spark.

“Good. Or else I’m going back next time and I’ll beat both you and Dee up.” Bee, bless his spark, tried to lighten the mood with a weak chuckle. Optimus returned the gesture, despite being well aware it was a useless effort.

“I look forward to a future free of your wrath.” His faint jest was drowned out by the sound of the machine growing louder, a sign of impending activation. Optimus tried his very best to relax against the freezing surface of the berth he was strapped to. The cords and wires itched, but he dared not so much as squirm, much less consider just how badly this could go as he gave his confirmation.

[haziells]

my way

until it reaches the void state

(this will be a long post)

1. the end, the beginning.

I knew about the law of attraction years ago thanks to social media, so there it was, like every day trying to manifest my desires.

I was fed up, every day was the same.

My heart healing and breaking everyday, the same cycle of hope and hopelessness continues.

was it always going to be like this?

would I always have to let fears take over me?

I couldn't trust, I didn't believe that just by believing I could get what I wanted but at the same time I had no other option.

I couldn't go on like this, I didn't want to go on like this, I just wanted to end my life, I gave up and cried, cried, cried thinking that this would be the end, that I wouldn't be able to be happy and that was it.

I gave up and thought I was resigned to living a shitty life.

But I cried so much that all the sadness that was in me came out, all the fears that were clinging to me came out.

That's when I felt peace, when I realized that no, I wasn't going to give up that easily, that I first have to do it and do it well, not keep trying.

So I persisted for only 2 days, as I already had my desire for that moment and yes, after 2 days my 3D had already reflected it, it was exciting.

did i reallt do that? was it just a coincidence?

No, it was really me.

I was happy for a few days until the fears returned but this time I was afraid of losing my desire, that's when I realized that fears have no meaning.

I already have it, why would I lose it?

2. I discovered Tumblr and the void state.

I didn't know what void state was, but as soon as I read about it, it caught my attention.

By then my self-concept had improved, I was still dealing with my fears but not as much as before.

So, I made a friend who explained to me more about the void state and she told me that she manifested her house through the void state.

I got excited and hopeful, I read some methods on how to get in and tried to do it, but I couldn't.

I couldn't do it, the simple idea of getting everything so easily sounded easy and fantastical to me.

But one day I realized who I really am, that I am everything, that nothing and no one has power outside of me.

I was filled with satisfaction, joy, peace, I felt like laughing knowing who I am and how easy everything is.

How did I first enter the void state?

so I had a subliminal audio playing in the background while I was meditating.

I thought...I am so powerful, I am capable of anything, I can have whatever I want whenever I want.

At that time I was very sleepy because I had taken some exams, so I just thought "my physical body is going to sleep and rest and I'm going to the void state"

After all, the void state is me and there is nothing easier than being me.

And so it happened, I entered the void state and knew that I already had everything just as I wanted, then I came out and continued sleeping while I didn't stop smiling and feeling a sensation of peace and extreme happiness.

I woke up and stood calmly until I realized what had happened...

I was scared shitless when I realized that I had entered the void state for real and that at that moment I should have everything I wanted and that was when 3d reality disappeared before my eyes.

Everything began to collapse and I felt a huge current of energy running through my entire body, as if it were a waterfall flowing inside me.

I was very scared, I won't deny it, but after all I did it.

(I swear that just as you see in the gif, that's how I felt at that moment)

The following days I couldn't stop shaking and feeling scared because I didn't understand how it was possible that 3D could disappear just like that.

Then I read someone here talking about non-dualism. @lotusmi

Then I understood my experience.

Since that day everything is much easier for me.

I have entered the void state 3 times.

that manifests?

.cure my depression.

.cure my anxiety.

.trust myself.

.longer eyelashes.

.my desired person in love with me.

.money.

.be able to manifest easily.

.prettiest voice.

.I am spoiled.

The rest of the things I manifest are more private.

But basically for me this is the best thing that could have happened to me.

I will mention who were the bloggers that I read to understand more about the void state and about who I really am.

@gorgeouslypink

@lotusmi

@beesfairlyland

@msperfect777

I will also mention a blogger whose information I also like and I find it cute.

@sugarplumfairy777

If you want to know more, you can send me a direct message, no problem.