#but that's not my only 'use' and i'd hate for my political posts to be the only thing i'm good for

[mrfancyfoot]

Today I logged into facebook for the first time in nearly 4 years and went through every profile in my friends list (like ~300) and purged out all the assholes (anyone who openly voted for Trump, other conservatives, and those who I strongly believe did). I've done this before so there weren't many but there are a number that have been wishy-washy with being outward in their bigotry and it helps me keep a mental list of people that deserve only the most very basic level of respect that I can muster because they certainly do not respect me nor people I care about nor many of their fellow human beings. Most disheartening is seeing friends and family who continue to put effort into engaging with people who argue in bad faith and weaponized ignorance.

I dated a man for nearly a year who went to women's and pro-choice rallies and liberal groups with me and said many times that he "was on my side" but turned out to be lying the whole time because he knew I definitely wouldn't date him otherwise. I'd known him for years before since we ran in the same friend circle. I wasn't the only one he had fooled. He slowly lifted the mask until we were constantly arguing because of his bigoted and racist remarks. His favorite thing to do was act oppressed and show me the most obvious Russian propaganda that he would get upset at me for fact-checking and asking for real sources. He wanted to argue, so what he hated most was when I refused to argue with him. Nothing I said was going to change his mind, so I wasn't going to humor or tolerate it (we didn't last long after that point, but by that time, I was afraid of leaving without an excuse that would be "good enough" for him). He legitimately wants civil war so that he can play survival hero and feel validated in his hatred. It didn't come on quickly and a lot of the comments started as "odd" off the cuff things through the time that we dated. He was very much pretending to be a kind person and once really called out, that pretense dropped. He thought I was more like him and that a lot of my regard and kindness for others is "fake." Because that's what a lot of people like that do - they fake being kind for optics, they are not actually kind people, and therefore presume that everyone else is doing the same thing. It's given me major trust issues.

Can't say this enough: these people feel validation in their bigotry when you continue to associate with them. They need to be dropped. They need to learn that their shitty beliefs mean that they get shunned. Make them feel uncomfortable. Quit tiptoeing around and coddling their delicate little feelings because they might get upset. It's okay for them to get upset because someone was mean and told them they don't like them because they think gay and trans people shouldn't exist. I once made a post about how a raped 11 year old child should never be expected to give birth, was told that it was "god's will" and like 5 people piled on the guy so badly he told us to stop being "mean" to him and was terrified to talk to me at work ever again (I have since cut all ties and no longer work with him). I'm personally extremely tired of playing nice for the sake of possibly "converting" someone - especially because you can be polite in telling someone to fuck off with their beliefs. Their beliefs are dangerous, are going to result in people losing their lives, and a frightening number of them are completely okay with that. We need to stop being tolerant of intolerance. It is okay to cut people (including family) from your life when all their presence does is bring you stress and harm.

In a similar vain, don't let the people who chose not to vote (or "protest voted") stick their heads in the sand to escape blame. They are just as culpable as anyone else who directly voted for Trump and other conservatives. They need to grow the fuck up.

For a lot of liberals, it's really uncomfortable to be confrontational and feel like you're being intolerant of someone, but it's way past time to play hardball and call them out instead of coddling them, especially as we're going into the holiday season where many of us will be seeing family with shitty views and targeted family that may need someone to stand up for them. Let them know they're shitty and inappropriate and a disappointment and unworthy of your regard because they certainly lack it for others. Obviously still be safe, but many of us very likely aren't losing anything of value in that scenario. Not having bigoted family members in my life in any way has made me so much happier.

A helpful tip to those who may find themselves in a confrontation: do not stay engaged. Let your views be known and then disengage. Because many of them love to argue and feel like they're defending themselves (many are addicted to those feelings of hatred and overcoming "oppression"), what they don't like is being ignored and feeling like you're rinsing your hands of them. They don't deserve your stress and constant efforts. There are ways to open a dialogue when they are willing to discuss civilly with an open mind, but if they bring intolerance, just shut it down.

(via jhig8bd0cczd1.png (PNG Image, 744 × 810 pixels))

[uncanny-tranny]

The effort to turn every trans person into a political activist and place the burden of political leadership onto us is the same mindset as thinking trans lives are inherently political. Combating this means holding trans people to individual standards. If a trans person occupies political spaces, it should be because they have chosen to, not because people look at their transness and the "political implications" and it is all they can see

[apollos-olives]

hey! if you don't mind me asking(feel free to ignore this ask) what do actual palestinians think of hamas? I'm not asking to sow any discord or to "catch" you out, I'm asking purely out of curiosity. from where I'm from, people generally view hamas and the houthis positively (and by people i mean the vast Muslim majority of pro-palestine supporters) but i have seen than some Palestinians don't hold them in such a high regard. similarly some people supported the IRA whereas other irish people strongly were against them - so I'm wondering if this is a similar situation? again if this ask is uncomfortable for you to answer , don't feel obligated to

this ask is uncomfortable but i'll still answer because i think it's important.

we as palestinians are sick of getting asked about this. it's asked as though every palestinian somehow has the same opinion on hamas and that each singular palestinian can speak for the rest of the population, which is obviously not true. i don't know every palestinians' opinion on hamas and i cannot list every opinion out there because not all of us agree on one single thing. each palestinian has their own opinion on hamas and honestly, it doesn't matter. we are tired of this question. we don't care about hamas anymore. this shit isn't about hamas at this point. 30000+ palestinians are dead and people are STILL talking about hamas as if that's actually important and rather than protesting for a ceasefire or fighting for a free palestine.

my opinion on hamas is different than my friends' opinions on hamas. my opinion on hamas is different than my parents' opinion on hamas. my opinion on hamas is different than my palestinian mutuals' opinion on hamas. my opinion on hamas is different than a lot of other palestinians who are involved. palestinians who keep getting asked this are tired. we are so tired. i appreciate that you are asking in good faith, but we don't want to talk about hamas anymore. we want to have a free palestine. we want our children to stop dying. we want to return to our land.

my personal opinion is that i don't really care about them. i don't care for their policies or their political goals. i only support them because they are one of the largest and efficient groups who are trying to liberate palestine. many palestinians share this same opinion. they do not support hamas as a whole, but they still appreciate that hamas is trying to fight for a liberated palestine. we support their efforts for the fight against the occupation, but past that we do not care or do not support them outside of that. what they do as a political group isn't something that i'm interested in, because i'd much rather be focused on freeing and rebuilding palestine.

some palestinians hate hamas. my parents dislike them, but they won't criticize them for trying to fight against the occupation, because they know that hamas is one of the most powerful groups of resistance in palestine, and will not go against their efforts to try to help palestine. some palestinians love hamas. some palestinians don't care about hamas. every palestinian is different, but in the end it doesn't matter. hamas is fighting for the same goal as the rest of us. a free palestine.

@el-shab-hussein has a post on his own opinion on hamas that i think is worth the read.

in the end, it doesn't matter about what our opinions on hamas are. because hamas only exists because of israel. if israel didn't exist, hamas wouldn't exist. hamas is a large group working for the resistance and hamas isn't the reason of palestinians' suffering. israel is.

@fairuzfan says: "I know this was sent in good faith but it doesn't really matter what Palestinians opinions on hamas are because even before hamas existed 750,000 Palestinians were exiled and killed."

we suffered before hamas existed and we will continue to suffer as long as israel is in power. so again, it doesn't matter what palestinians' - or really anyone's - opinion is on hamas. what we should be focusing on is fighting for a ceasefire, fighting for a free palestine, and fighting for a free world.

[jewelleria]

I don’t usually talk about politics on here, if ever. But it’s been almost six months since the conflict in the Middle East flared up again, and I’m finally ready to start. Here are some of my thoughts.

I say ‘flared up’ because this has happened before and it’ll happen again. Because, even though what's currently going on is absolutely unprecedented, those of us who live in this part of the world are used to it. Let that sink in: we are used to this. And we shouldn’t have to be. 

But I use that term for another reason: I don't want to accidentally call it the wrong thing lest I come under fire for being a genocidal maniac or a terrorist or a propaganda machine, etc., etc.—so let’s just call it ‘the war’ or ‘the conflict.’ Because that’s what it is. Doesn’t matter which side you’re on, who you love, or who you hate. 

This post will, in all likelihood, sit in my drafts forever. If it does get posted, it certainly won’t be on my main, because I'm scared of being harassed (spoiler: she posted it on her main). I hate admitting that, but honestly? I’m fucking terrified. 

I also feel like in order for anything I say on here (i.e. the hellscape of the internet) to be taken seriously, I have to somehow prove that a) I’m “educated” enough to talk about the conflict, and b) that my opinion lines up with what has been deemed the correct one. So, tedious and unnecessary though it is, I will tell you about my experience, because I have a feeling most of the people reading this post are not nearly as close to what’s happening as I am.

How do I explain where I live without actually explaining where I live? How do I say “I live in the Red Zone of international conflicts” without saying what I actually think? How do I convey the fear that grips me when I try to decide between saying “I live in Palestine” and “I live in Israel”? I don't really know. But I do know that names are important. I also know that, due to the various clickbaity monikers ascribed to the conflict, it would probably just be easier to point to a map. 

I haven't always lived in the Middle East. I've lived in various places along America’s east coast, and traveled all over the world. But in short, I now live somewhere inside the crudely-drawn purple circle. 

If you know anything about these borders you probably blanched a bit in sympathy, or maybe condolence. But in truth, it’s a shockingly normal existence. I don't feel like I've lived through the shifting of international relations or a war or anything. I just kind of feel like I did when COVID hit, that dull sameness as I wondered if this would be the only world-altering event to shape my life, or if there would be more. 

I've been told that, in order for my brain to process all the horrific details of the past six months, there needs to be some element of cognitive dissonance—that falling into a sort of dissociative mindset is the only way to not go insane under the weight of it all. I think in some ways that’s true. I have been terrifyingly close to bus stop shootings when my commute wasn’t over; I have felt my apartment building shake with the reverberations of a missile strike; I have spent hours in underground shelters waiting for air raid sirens to stop. 

But. I have also gone grocery shopping, and skipped class, and stayed up too late watching TV, and fed the cats on the street corner, and cried over a boy, and got myself AirPods just because, and taken out the trash, and done laundry on a delicate cycle, and bought overpriced lattes one too many days a week. I have looked at pretty things and taken out my phone because, despite it all, I still think that life is too short not to freeze the small moments. 

So I'd say, all things considered, I live an incredibly privileged life—compared, of course, to those suffering in Gaza—one filled with sunsets and over-sweetened knafeh and every different color of sand. One that allows me to throw myself into a fandom-induced hyperfixation (or, alternatively, escape method) as I sit on the couch and crack open my laptop to write the next chapter of the fic I'm working on. 

But there are bits of not-normalness that wheedle their way through the cracks. I pretend these moments are avoidable, even if they’re not. 

They look like this: reading the news and seeing another idiotic, careless choice on Netanyahu’s part and groaning into my morning coffee. Watching Palestinian and Jewish children’s needless suffering posted on Instagram reels and feeling helpless. Opening my Tumblr DMs to find a message telling me to exterminate myself for reblogging a post that only seems like it’s about the war if you squint and tilt your head sideways. 

These moments look like all the tiny ways I am reminded that I'm living in a post-October seventh world, where hearing a car backfire makes me jump out of my skin and the sound of a suitcase on pavement makes me look up at the sky and search for the war planes. They look like the heavy grief that is, and also isn’t, mine. 

Here's the thing, though. I know you’re wondering when the ball will drop and my true opinion will be revealed. I know you’re waiting for me to reveal what demographic I'm a part of so that you, dear reader, can neatly slap a label on my head and sort me into some oversimplified category that lets you continue to think you understand this war. 

No one wants to sit and ruminate on the difficult questions, the ones that make you wonder if maybe you’ve been tinkered with by the propaganda machine, if you might need to go back on what you’ve said or change your mind. We all strive for our perception of complicated issues to be a comfortable one.

But I know that no matter what I do, there will always be assumptions. So, while I shudder to reveal this information online, I think that maybe my most significant contribution to this meta-discussion spanning every facet of the internet is this: 

I am a Jew. 

Or, alternatively, I am: Jewish, יהודית, يَهُودِيٌّ, etc. Point is, I come from Jews. And, like any given person, I am a product of generation after generation of love. 

I'm not going to take time to explain my heritage to you, or to prove that before all the expulsions and pogroms, there was an origin point. If you don’t believe that, perhaps it’s less of a factual problem and more of an ‘I don’t give weight to the beliefs of indigenous people’ problem. But, in case you want to spend time uselessly refuting this tiny point in a larger argument, you can inspect the photos below (it’s just a small chunk of my DNA test results). Alternatively, you can remember that interrogating someone in an attempt to make their indigeneity match your arbitrary criteria is generally not seen as good manners. 

Now, let’s go back to thathateful message (read: poorly disguised death threat) I received in my Tumblr DMs. I think it was like two or three weeks ago. I had recently gained a new follower whose blog’s primary focus was the fandom I contribute to, so I followed them back. I saw in my notes that they were going through my posts and liking them—as one does when gaining a new mutual. Yippee! 

Then they sent me this: 

I tried to explain that hate speech is not a way to go about participating in political discourse, but the person had already blocked me immediately after sending that message. Then, assured by the fact that I surely would never see them complaining about me on their blog (because, as I said, they blocked me), they posted a shouting rant accusing me of sympathizing with colonizing settlers and declaring me a “racist Zionist fuck.” Oh, the wonders of incognito tabs.

Where this person drew these conclusions after reading my (reblogged) post about antisemitism…. I'm not actually sure. But I greatly sympathize with them, and hope that they weren’t too personally offended by my desire to not die. 

For a while I contemplated this experience in my righteous anger, and tried to figure out a way to message this person. I wanted to explain that a) seeing a post about being Jewish and choosing to harass the creator about Israel is literally the definition of antisemitism and b) that sending a hateful DM and refusing to be held accountable is just childish and immature. But I gave up soon after—because, honestly, I knew it wasn’t worth my effort or energy. And I knew that I wouldn't be able to change their mind. 

But I still remember staring at that rather unfortunate meme, accompanied by an all-caps message demanding for me to Free Palestine, and thinking: the post didn’t even have any buzzwords. I remember the swoop of dread and guilt and fear. I remember wondering why this kind of antisemitism felt worse, in that moment, than the kind that leaves bodies in its wake. 

I remember thinking, I don’t have the power to free anyone.

I remember thinking, I’m so fucking tired. 

And before you tell me that this conflict isn’t about religion—let me ask you some questions. Why is it that Israel is even called Israel? (Here’s why.) Why do Jews even want it? (Here’s why.) But also, if you actually read the charters of Islamist terrorist organizations like ISIS, Hamas, and Hezbollah (among others), they equate the modern state of Israel with the Jewish people, and they use the two entities interchangeably. So of course this conflict is religious. It’s never been anything but that.

But I do wonder, when faced with those who deny this fact: how do I prove, through an endless slew of what-about-isms and victim blaming, that I too am hurting? How do I show that empathy is dialectical, that I can care deeply for Palestinians and Gazans while also grieving my own people? 

There's this thing that humans do, when we’re frustrated about politics and need to howl our opinions about it into the void until we feel better. We find like-minded souls, usually our friends and neighbors, and fret about the state of the world to each other until we’ve gone around in a satisfactory amount of circles. But these conversations never truly accomplish anything. They’re just a substitute, a stand-in catharsis, for what we really wish we could do: find someone who embodies the spirit of every Jew-hating internet troll, every ignorant justifier of terrorism, and scream ourselves hoarse at them until we change their mind.

But, of course, minds cannot be changed when they are determined to live in a state of irrational dislike. In Judaism, this way of thinking has a name: שנאת ח��נם (sinat hinam), or baseless hatred. It's a parasite with no definite cure, and it makes people bend over backwards to justify things like the massacre on October seventh, simply because the blame always needs to be placed on the Jews. 

So when a Jew is faced with this unsolvable problem, there is only one response to be had, only one feeling to be felt: anger. And we are angry. Carrying around rage with nowhere to put it is exhausting. It's like a weight at the base of our neck that pushes down on our spine, bending it until we will inevitably snap under the pressure. I’m still waiting to break, even now.

I wish I could explain to someone who needs to hear it that terrorism against Israelis happens every single day here, and that we are never more than one degree of separation away from the brutal slaughter of a friend, lover, parent, sibling. I wish it would be enough to say that the majority of Israelis (which includes Arab-Israeli citizens who have the exact same rights as Jewish-Israelis) wish for peace every day without ever having seen what it looks like. 

I wish I could show the world that Israel was founded as a socialist state, that it was built on communal values and born from a cluster of kibbutzim (small farming communities based on collective responsibility), and that what it is now isn’t what its people stand for. 

I wish the world could open their eyes to what we Israelis have seen since the beginning: that Hamas is the enemy, Hamas is the one starving Palestinians and denying them aid, Hamas is the one who keeps rejecting ceasefire terms and denying their citizens basic human rights. Hamas is the governing body of Gaza, not Israel. Hamas is responsible for the wellbeing of the Palestinian people. And Hamas are the ones who are more determined to murder Jews—over and over and over again, in the most animalistic ways possible—than to look inwards and see the suffering they’ve inflicted on their own people. I wish it was easier to see that.

But the wishing, the asking how can people be so blind, is never enough. I can never just say, I promise I don't want war. 

When I bear witness to this baseless hatred, I think of the victims of October seventh. I think of the women and girls who were raped and then murdered, forever unable to tell their stories. I think of the hostages, trapped underneath Gaza in dark tunnels, wondering if anyone will come for them. I think of Ori Ansbacher, of Ezra Schwartz, of Eyal, Gilad, and Naftali, of Lucy, Rina, and Maia Dee, of the Paley boys, of Ari Fuld and of Nachshon Wachsman. I think of all the innocent blood spilled because of terror-fueled hatred and the virus of antisemitism. I think of all the thousands of people who were brutally murdered in Israel, Jews and Muslims and Christians and humans, who will never see peace.

My ties to this land are knotted a thousand times over. Even when I leave, a part of me is left behind, waiting for me to claim it when I return. But when I see the grit it takes to live through this pain, when I see the suffering that paints the world the color of blood, I look to the heavens and I wonder why. 

I ask God: is it worth all this? He doesn't answer. So I am the one, in the end, to answer my own question. I say, it has to be. 

Feel free to send any genuine, respectful, and clarifying questions you may have to my inbox!

EDIT: just coming on here to say that I'm really touched & grateful for the love on this post. When I wrote it, I felt hopeless; I logged off of Tumblr for Shabbat, dreading the moment I would turn off my phone to find more hate in my inbox. Granted, I did find some, and responding to it was exhausting, but it wasn’t all hate. I read every kind reblog and comment, and the love was so much louder. Thank you, thank you, thank you. 🤍

Source Reading

The Whispered in Gaza Project by The Center for Peace Communications

Why Jews Cannot Stop Shaking Right Now by Dara Horn

Hamas Kidnapped My Father for Refusing to Be Their Puppet by Ala Mohammed Mushtaha

I Hope Someone Somewhere Is Being Kind to My Boy by Rachel Goldberg

The Struggle for Black Freedom Has Nothing to Do with Israel by Coleman Hughes

Israel Can Defend Itself and Uphold Its Values by The New York Times Editorial Board

There Is a Jewish Hope for Palestinian Liberation. It Must Survive by Peter Beinart

The Long Wait of the Hostages’ Families by Ruth Margalit

“By Any Means Necessary”: Hamas, Iran, and the Left by Armin Navabi

When People Tell You Who They Are, Believe Them by Bari Weiss

Hunger in Gaza: Blame Hamas, Not Israel by Yvette Miller

Benjamin Netanyahu Is Israel’s Worst Prime Minister Ever by Anshel Pfeffer

What Palestinians Really Think of Hamas by Amaney A. Jamal and Michael Robbins

The Decolonization Narrative Is Dangerous and False by Simon Sebag Montefiore

Understanding Hamas’s Genocidal Ideology by Bruce Hoffman

The Wisdom of Hamas by Matti Friedman

How the UN Discriminates Against Israel by Dina Rovner

This Muslim Israeli Woman Is the Future of the Middle East by The Free Press

Why Are Feminists Silent on Rape and Murder? by Bari Weiss

[pomefioredove]

HIYYYAAAA

JUST SAW THE FLRITY PROMPTS EVENT!

What do you say about Lilia with "Don't bite your lip, I want to do that."

I would say hgghh💕💖❤️

summary: "don't bite your lip, I want to do that" type of post: short fic characters: lilia additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is kinda implied to be yuu but doesn't have to be, not proofread, Lilia is shamelessly flirty thank u a part of this event

There are very few things that still manage to catch Lilia by surprise.

At his age, he's simply running out of new experiences; school, politics, even the wonderful world of the internet have started becoming monotonous and boring, leaving him in a slump.

Perhaps, then, that's why he's taken such an interest in you.

Such an intriguing little creature, he thinks, watching you from the shadows of the Diasomnia lounge.

You'd come by to drop something off for Malleus, the sweet thing that you are, and, once again, Lilia finds himself shamelessly staring.

He knows he shouldn't, but, oh, he truly can't help himself!

He inches closer. Lilia can't help but wonder what sort of noise you'll make when he startles you this time. A gasp? A shout, perhaps? Maybe even a cute little squeak... the thought of that is strangely exciting to him.

Only one way to find out.

He drops out of the shadows, blocking you from the exit just as you turn towards it. "Hello!"

And... Nothing.

You smile. "Ah... hello again, Lilia. Did Malleus tell you I was coming?"

His arms fall to his sides with a pout. Nothing? Nothing at all? You look at him like he has something stuck in his teeth.

"He may have mentioned," Lilia sighs. "You're impossible to tease these days. It's quite disappointing, really."

You smile slightly, much to his bemusement. He hates letting you have the upper hand... "Maybe I've started anticipating your pranks. You'll just need to find some new material,"

New material...? He scoffs. You're not even the least bit concerned about him!

"It used to be so easy to get a rise out of you. Humans change far too fast," he laments.

"Now I'll never get to see that flustered look on your face ever again! Or I'll have to come up with something new to tease you with..."

"Orrrr... you could just not tease me at all?"

He chuckles, shaking his head as if you had just said something ridiculous. "With your precious reactions? Impossible!"

You sigh.

Lilia tuts, tapping his chin as if lost in deep thought. He circles you once, twice, then stops in front of you.

"I can't think of anything," he sighs dramatically. "It'll come to me later... Is that uniform new?"

"Oh, uh..." you mutter, caught off guard by the sudden change in topic. You turn around yourself in a circle. How cute.

"Well, it's the same uniform, but I got my measurements taken at Pomefiore, and they they got me a better fitting one."

"I can tell,"

He hums pleasantly, dragging his eyes over your body. "They did a wonderful job accentuating your features,"

You huff and look away, much to his delight, clearly taken by surprise by his change in tone.

"...Thank you,"

"Fufufu. Don't mention it," Lilia says, eyes narrowing. "You don't get complimented very much, do you?"

"Not regularly,"

"I could surmise as much. Why, if I didn't know any better, I'd say you're almost flustered by little old me. Is that right?"

Hook, line, and sinker. Your eyes widen as you realize that you've walked right into his trap. "Oh, no, no. I'm not. I'm fine!"

"Really? Don't get shy on me, now. I'm beginning to like this even more than scaring you,"

He takes a step forward, drinking in the sight of you, your body's nervous reactions to his teasing. "How cute,"

"Tease," you say, biting the corner of your lip.

You back yourself against the wall of the lounge, to his absolute delight, and he takes that as an invitation to get closer.

"That I am," Lilia admits without a hint of shame. "But don't bite your lip... I want to do that."

That long sought-after squeak finally escapes you, music to his ears, and he leans closer. For a moment, it seems like he's about to close the distance between you... then, at the last second, he pulls back.

He chuckles. "Oh, what fun! I haven't felt so young in ages. But I do have other business to attend to,"

And so, Lilia leaves you stunned, trembling against the wall as he merrily walks off before you seem to come to your senses.

"Vanrouge, you little shit! Get back here!"

A slight giggle escapes him as he starts off running, with you not far behind. He was right; this is much, much more rewarding than scaring you.

Maybe, if you make another one of those cute noises, he'll even let you catch him.

[yanderestarangel]

HIGURUMA HIROMI X FTM READER

A/N: I hated the end result but I decided to post it anyway, I love Hiromi and I needed to write about him lol ✧⁠*ᜊ( ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ᜊ.

TW: porn plot, praise kink only, soft!dom hiromi, blowjob, masturbation, v!sex, cumshot, smut, daddykink, age gap, dilf!hiromi (+43 y), dirty talk, fingering, aftercare, vulnerable!kink

"I'm old enough to be your father... I don't know how you agreed to go out with me."

The words were out of his mouth before he realized ── He was your lawyer, but also your friend, Hiromi was forty-three years old and you were young in his eyes, you were still in college! But that didn't take away the fact that you were an attractive and intelligent boy in his eyes.

And he... He was an old man with a midlife crisis.

You just smiled saying that you had no problems with his age and that he was a gentleman with you ── which was true, Hiromi already had white hair appearing in his locks just like his face was marked by age, but he was still extremely charming, Mainly the lean muscles behind the expensive suit the lawyer always wore, inside or outside the law firm.

Which made you have all kinds of thoughts, except the pure ones.

You arrived in front of your hotel giving him a seductive look, smiling behind your lip gloss as you faintly saw a shy erection in his pants; you softly spoke a sweet excuse for him, inviting him to go to your suite to discuss some papers for a new process that you needed his opinion on... Obviously it was a polite lie.

He was left speechless as he looked at you. The way you said it was really seductive, almost like you were giving off a sweet yet lustful aura to him. He wanted to fuck you. He was so attracted to you, perhaps because of how cute and pretty you looked.

He gulped, and he finally spoke once more:

"Y-Yes... I'd gladly come in so that we can discuss it..."

While your heels made noises on the marble floor, the old man followed you as he looked at your ass in the short silk dress you were wearing. He couldn't resist any longer. He needed your touch, your warmth, your sweetness... The elevator's small space made it easier for him to lean in and kiss you fiercely. Your lips felt so soft, and the feeling of your body against his made him even more aroused.

The lawyer then used his finger to tease your clit while kissing you passionately, enjoying the sensation of your wet pussy against his hard cock.

"Such a naughty boy..."

He whispered in your ear, loving the feeling of you grinding against him and the taste of your lips.

"Goddamn baby boy..."

He then slid his finger in... Oh, it felt so good. You were so tight and wet, it turned him on even more.

"Are you sure you want this?"

You moaned into his lips, feeling his clothed cock against the damp fabric of your panties, you whimpered like a desperate puppy as you begged him in a muffled voice.

"Holy hell, you're so tempting..."

Higuruma was taken aback by how submissive you sounded. He loved it...the way you sounded like you wanted him to do whatever he wanted to you. Especially since he knew you enjoyed being dominated.

"Alright... Let's go inside...soon, you'll have my dick deep inside your pussy..."

He growled at you as he followed you into the room. As soon as he closed the door, he kissed you deeply and roughly, dominating the moment. Your silk dress was ripped off by the older man's rough, calloused hands, you were exposed and vulnerable to his hunger ── His eyes wandered down to the seam between your thighs, your cunt glistened in the dim light of the hotel suite as you whimpered to be touched by him, you were a pretty and submissive little thing to him now.

In the confined space there was no more rational and polite Hiromi; but rather a man who needed release. You saw him quickly take off the belt that held up his pants, lowering them next to his underwear and making his member spring free in front of your face ── it was long with a medium thickness the base of his cock had trimmed hair while along the shaft the veins pumping blood pulsed, a faint pink color adorned the pulsing tip and already dripping with pre-cum ── as you felt the lawyer's fingers tangle in your hair and bring you closer to his crotch.

"You're so fucking hot. Suck it, now baby prince."

You wrap your lips around the cock of the man in front of you, tasting the musk that makes you moan and vibrate against his flesh ── you sucked his cock slowly, looking deep into his eyes. It was an intense experience for him.

"Good boy... Keep going, baby prince... Make sure my cock is clean."

He demanded, watching as you looked up at him. The sight of you sucking him off drove him insane, but he wanted to make sure his cock was clean first. After all, you deserved the best he could offer.

"Fuck ya', take it all in... Suck Daddy's cock...you love it, don't you?"

He pushed his entire dick at once, hitting your throat and making you choke, he grunted softly, pulling himself out of your oral cavity again and forcing you to look at him.

His digits dug into your cheek, making you let out a slightly low moan of discomfort.

"Now... Spread your legs wide open for your old man."

He groaned as you obeyed him, spreading them and showing off your wet pussy. He was almost ready to fuck you hard, but there was something else he wanted to do first.

"Touch yourself for me, doll boy, I want you very relaxed for daddy's dick ya?"

Hiromi couldn't believe how much you turned him on. Seeing you masturbate while lying on the bed was enough to make him explode, but he knew he had to hold back. He wanted to make sure you would cum, too.

"Spread your legs wider... That's it... F-Fuck, you're so sexy..."

He praised you, rubbing his cock slowly while watching you touch your pussy. The sight of how wet you were just made him harder.

"Keep going... Make yourself cum for Daddy. Oh- fuck- God, I want to see you squirt for me..."

But you couldn't bear that torture, you needed to be penetrated by him soon, to feel every inch of the older man's cock in your body ── So, you started to beg pathetically, rubbing your fingers even harder on your clit, desperate for him to grab you hard and make you cum; "please" requests came out of your mouth they sounded throughout the room making Hiromi smile and pin you to the bed with his weight, his lips attacked yours in a raw and hurried kiss.

"Alright, little boy."

He growled before he positioned himself above you, his dick already at your entrance. He took your hand and removed it from your pussy, admiring how red and swollen you were. You felt his fat tip enter your overstimulated hole with a pleasurable burn that made you arch your back and hold onto him tightly ── thanks to the suit top he still wore you held onto the rough fabric of his blazer, as you felt every inch of his shaft fill you and kiss your uterus.

He groaned as he slowly thrust inside you, feeling your pussy muscles squeezing his cock, it was as if it were heaven. He knew he wouldn't last long, he hadn't had sex in years and you were so beautiful and tight, like your body was made for a good fuck with him.

"God, your pussy feels incredible. I won't last long if you keep grabbing me like that boy... fuck-! Open that pussy wider for daddy."

The man with spiky black hair took his hand to your little cunt opening your labia with both fingers and watching how his cock was moving in and out of your body with difficulty, even though you were extremely wet for him. The sight made him moan and look at you beneath him even more desperate for an orgasm ── he captured one of your soft breasts in his mouth as he hammered hard on his hips his cock into you lightly biting your nipple at the end with a wet pop.

"Fucking hell- you're so cute when you're desperate to cum. That's it, baby boy... Be a good boy for Daddy..."

He moaned as he continued thrusting into you, feeling your pussy contracting around him. He loved the way you responded to him, the way you surrendered to him.

"I'm gonna fuck you so good, you won't ever want to leave my side."

He whispered in your ear, his voice filled with lust and desire. He knew he was in control, and he wanted to make sure you remembered this night forever.

"Cum for me, baby... Cum hard, you deserve this ok? Pretty boys don't think about making a mess, they just cum, cum for me please."

Hiromi's pace quickened, his thrusts becoming more intense and powerful. He wanted to push you over the edge, to bring you to the brink of your orgasm. You felt a strange burning in your core, much more intense than normal, then you felt your body shake and your pussy squirt on his cock and abdomen, getting a little dirty on the dress shirt he was wearing.

Hiromi on the other hand couldn't hold back any longer as he heard your sweet moans, feeling your pussy tighten around his cock. The sight of you squirting on his cock pushed him over the edge, finally pulling out of your pussy, his cock slick with your juices ── his hand caressing his throbbing member. His eyes locked with yours as he started stroking himself, his breathing becoming heavier.

"Look at these pretty tits of yours... They're just begging for my cum, just begging to be fucked."

He continued to stroke himself, his hand moving faster and faster, until finally, he reached his climax. His hot cum sprayed onto your breasts, coating them in his release. He saw your skin painted with sweat and his sticky cum, leaning down to take one of your breasts in his calloused hands.

"You did so well, lad, you truly deserved every drop of your orgasm for being a good boy for me."

The lawyer leaned over you and gave you a calm kiss on the forehead, carefully wrapping you in his arms and closing the distance between you.

You really didn't know what your relationship would be like after such an intense encounter... But it didn't matter at that moment, At that moment you were just his boy, and that was what mattered.

© All rights reserved to @yanderestarangel on tumblr.

[serial-unaliver]

making this post so people stop sending the ask: "how do I get a failson"

so I hate to break this to you but real life isn't booktok and you need some sort of redeeming qualities to attract anyone of any financial status who is actually a respectable human being. my failson relationship actually began with talking and became more intimate over time like most romantic relationships. it wasn't like, a special thing I manifested. when I made those failson posts I didn't expect to gain anything from it, I just basically say whatever's on my mind on here regardless of how off-putting it may be to the average person. some people dislike that type of honesty while others are attracted to it. failson is actually honest and unashamed like me. I find this an attractive quality. it's not a common one, it requires a certain level of pride and confidence--genuine confidence and not a facade for validation. what i'm trying to say here is we actually found qualities in each other beyond financial status. I didn't reveal this at first but I continued contacting him not because I had no "options" but because I enjoyed our conversations, and it's pretty damn hard for me to get invested in conversations involving more than debates about politics. he brought out feelings in me I honestly had no idea existed before. a lot of my own family sees me as "sociopathic" and questions my intentions in relationships. I think i'm just careful--well, careful in some ways and enjoying an adrenaline rush in others. I assumed i'd only be capable of purely transactional relationships but i've discovered that's not true. it makes me feel vulnerable but much more alive.

okay wait i'm really straying from the original topic to talk about myself--queue the narcissism tiktoks, everyone! but my "advice" for "getting a failson" is not special. it's a normal relationship that is only seen as abnormal because of the honesty involved. people also apparently think i'm such a weirdo i've been talking about the failson ai character here. we met online first then in real life. he is in fact real 😭 and no, he does not hate that I call him failson, we both actually use fail-terms; i'm not THAT mean, people! if someone is uncomfortable being called something then I would stop calling them it. I have made it quite clear I find his failson qualities endearing. perhaps I am a class traitor 😩 ANYWAY that is all. you can stop begging for failson advice now. I may make jokes on tumblr but i'm a real person with real feelings who would not actually start seeing someone based on wealth alone. it attracts me, but I would never get intimate if wealth were the only factor. one more thing- I do not actually force failson to spend money on my behalf. I encourage it by my obvious failson enthusiasm but ultimately it's his decision. so i'm not like, "give me an allowance" or whatever else people assume i'm doing 😂 I actually find it significantly more attractive if there's choice involved because it shows motive beyond transaction. he likes to see me happy and I get equally excited when he smiles at me. ughhhh this is so cheesy I am embarrassing myself here by not faking nonchalance so you all better appreciate this post!

[matan4il]

I find it telling that people say there should be a ceasefire, because the on going war will just make Palestinians hate Israelis more, leading to more groups like Hamas being established, but I saw no one denouncing Hamas' massacre on Oct 7, or the decades of Palestinian terrorism that preceded it, being denounced because of the hatred for Palestinians that would plant in the hearts of Israelis.

Don't get me wrong, I AM against generalized hatred on both sides, and I am against violence from either. I just think it says something, when only one side's hurt is acknowledged, and only one side's feelings of hate are understood as being at least partly derived from the actions of the other side, and only one side's choice to use violence is justified. It's like Palestinians are accepted as victims, and therefore whatever they do, or whatever reaction they have to Israeli actions, is legitimized, while Israelis are not accepted as victims, and that's why even people who admit that on Oct 7, Israelis were victimized, still don't treat Israelis as people who suffer, and who might be driven to hate by the actions of the other side.

In this context, I'd like to share an article, which explores the harsh sentiments of Israeli peace activists, who were slaughtered on Oct 7. The communities in southern Israel that were purposely attacked during Hamas' massacre, were well known for leaning left politically, for being pro-peace, for employing Gazans to help them financially, and for the extensive volunteer work these communities' members did in favor of Palestinians. In fact, that was a part of their downfall. Some survivors talked about how well the terrorists knew who lived in which home, where the security posts were (to take those out first), how the terrorists had hand drawn maps of these communities, making it clear they had first hand intel from the Gazans who had been employed there. I've listened to the voices of these people, whether I agree with them or not, to their sense of hurt, betrayal and disillusionment, to why they no longer distinguish Gazan civilians from terrorists, and I believe that we all should.

(clickable link under the screenshot)

(for all of my updates and ask replies regarding Israel, click here)

[baronessvonglitter]

Darlin’ Cowgirl

Jack Daniels x f!reader

Word count: 3.1K

Summary: looking for a way out of a bachelorette party, an accidental butt dial becomes a booty call

WARNINGS: 18+ Only! Explicit and Mature, friends/coworkers to lovers, reader is at least 21, tipsy flirting/dancing, improper use of a mechanical bull, semi-public sex, fingering, oral sex (m & f receiving), unprotected p in v sex, smut, dash of romance with a happily ever after, no use of y/n, reader has hair and wears a dress

Author's Note: this was the first one-shot I'd ever written on AO3 and decided to post here as well 🤠🥃

JACK DANIELS MASTERLIST | FULL MASTERLIST

You aren't looking forward to the bachelorette party. You don't even like weddings, yet somehow you've been roped into being part of your old college roommate's wedding party simply because you ran into her at the grocery store a few months back. It was only when you had the bridal shower that you realized you were one of thirteen bridesmaids. Great. Now you'll feel even more invisible than you already do.

You've been in a slump lately, and the only thing bringing out of it is your devilishly handsome coworker Jack Daniels, aka Agent Whiskey. You're an Information Security Specialist for the Statesmen, an ultra-secret espionage agency, so naturally you keep the details of your job pretty hush-hush. Whiskey, as you affectionately call him, is one of your few confidantes, despite the fact that he flirts with you at every turn. You admit to yourself that it's a nice distraction from your loneliness, even if you feel his flirtatiousness is just a bit of fun for him, his own distraction.

You take your time in dressing up for the night: a spaghetti strap black minidress with a plunging neckline and silver cowgirl boots. At the bar you meet up with your fellow bridesmaids and the bride-to-be, who are all in shades of pink and white, near exact replicas of each other, nearly indistinguishable. You stick out like a sore thumb and you know it.

The bridesmaids want to take shots so you take some with them, hoping your anxiety will dilute just a little. Your inhibitions are lowered just a little, but not enough to go out to the dance floor with the others. You watch as others watch them, in admiration as they laugh and gracefully (despite the Buttery Nipple shots they'd all consumed just minutes ago) and wish you could be part of them. You hang back at the bar, politely declining offers to dance from men who come by to not-so-subtly ogle you. You feel like a piece of meat. Perhaps it was a bad idea to come out, knowing you hate places like this. However, just as you're about to order a Lyft, you get an incoming call from Whiskey himself.

Confused and blushing you go to a quieter place of the bar, which is still very loud. "Hello?" you practically shout into the phone.

"Hey darlin'!" you hear Jack's voice on the other end. "You called me?"

"Um.. no, I didn't.."

He chuckles, warm and low in your ear. "Yes you did, darlin'. I was hopin' you were okay."

You quickly check your call log and sure enough, you'd called him about fifteen minutes ago, when you and the bridesmaids were doing shots. "I must have butt-dialed you," you shout back, giggling.

"Aw, lucky me," he drawls. "That pretty ass was thinkin' about me?"

You're too flustered to reply.

"Where are you anyway? Loud as hell over there."

"I'm at a bar for a bridesmaid party."

"That one you were talkin' about earlier today? No invite, huh?"

You giggle again. "It's for women only."

"Exactly! That's my kinda good time!" You hear him chuckle again.

"Actually it's kinda lame. I'm thinking of calling it a night."

"Don't you dare," he says with mock authority. "Wait there a minute and I'll be on my way. Text me the address."

You hang up and text him, wondering what he's up to. You've never hung out with him after work, even with all the flirting you've both done. You think it's strictly professional with a touch of playfulness, but you've never been one hundred percent sure.

You hang out at the bar, wanting to be visible to him when he arrives, but it's only after you're returned from the ladies' room checking your makeup, outfit and hair, that you see him, well the back of him, and he's mingling with some of the bridesmaids, who are obviously taking a much-needed alcohol break from dancing.

You gently touch his shoulder. "Hey there, stranger."

He turns, smiling, and the look in his eyes becomes one of pure lust. He drinks you in, unabashedly. "Damn darlin', you look so good it hurts," he drawls.

You glance at the bridesmaids, most of whom are checking him out with flagrant interest. "Did you meet everyone? Kaitlyn's the bride-to-be," you introduce them.

"I have, and her husband's one lucky sonofabitch, if I may say so," he places a gentlemanly kiss on the bride's hand and she in turn blushes. "Who's your friend?" she asks.

"A coworker," you say mysteriously, glancing at Jack, who has now turned his whole attention to you.

"You wanna dance, darlin'?" he asks, extending his hand to you.

Your stomach drops, just because you're pretty shy about dancing, and if anything you'd like to leave him with the impression that you can at least move in rhythm. "Maybe the next song," you suggest. "But first, how about a couple of shots? On me."

He smiles and shakes his head. "Darlin', I can't allow that. My treat," he insists, and orders a couple shots of whiskey for you and him.

"Had to be whiskey, huh?" you tease him, taking the shot glass in your hand.

"Of course." He lifts his glass to yours for a toast. "To coworkers getting to know each other better," he says, and there's a twinkle in his deep brown eyes that's hard to miss.

"To getting to know each other better," you grin and down the shot. It's like fire in your throat and stomach.

"Too much for ya to handle?" he teases, having downed his with ease.

"Depends.. which Whiskey are you talking about?" you tease back, feeling a little surge of confidence that either comes from Jack or from the shot.

"You're a little firecracker," he says in a low voice, his eyes blatantly going over every line and curve of your face, and downwards to eyeball your neck, the curve of your breasts. You wonder what he's imagining.

"Firecrackers are fun but dangerous," you warn him with a cheeky smile.

"We both know I'm all about that danger. Ain't nothin' I can't handle.." a subtle lift of his brows suggests he means more than mere flirtation.

"Is that a challenge?" You step closer to him, and the scent of his cologne, notes of leather and tobacco, catches your attention.

He notices your stance, the way you've shifted from a sweetheart wallflower to a provocative temptress. "What if it is?" he whispers into your ear, his breath tickling your skin and raising goosebumps on your flesh.

You follow his lead and whisper into his own ear, your lips grazing his cheek. "Then I accept.." you keep the ghost of a kiss upon his freshly shaven cheek and slowly pull back, looking into his eyes and seeing a newly effected desire there. "Dance with me." You bring him out to the floor, having completely lost sight of the bridesmaids. Nothing exists now but you and Jack and this chemistry that's been building between you.

His hands are on your hips as "Neon Moon" starts to play, a slow and soulful song that suits the mood you're both in. The colored lights sweep across the room, casting blue and scarlet and amber glows across the crowd. You're lost in each other, in the touch of his hands on your hips, the way he caresses them, loving their shape. You rest your hands on his broad, strong shoulders.

"You're a good dancer, Jack. You know what they say about men who are good dancers," you tell him suggestively.

"Really? What do they think, Gorgeous?" He pulls you even closer so your bodies are practically flush together.

"That they're good in bed," you answer with an arch of your brow, as if to imply it was beyond your belief.

He looks at you like a man looking at his first meal in a week of starvation. "Do you want to find out just how good of a.. dancer I am?"

Heat blooms across your body, and your pussy clenches in response. It only takes a moment to imagine what it would be like, riding this cowboy. You see him and you realize you have him right where you want him. "There is something I've been dying to ride.." you gently tug his shirt to bring him closer, as if in a kiss..

For a moment he looks like he's going to melt from the heat coming off you. "Oh yeah, darlin'? And what exactly is that?" he smirks.

Your face lights up. "That mechanical bull!" You grab Jack's hand and lead him across the huge barroom to the line to ride the bull. Sneaking a look at his face, Whiskey looks bewildered, but manages to cover it just in time. "That stupid thing? I can think of something more fun to ride," he smirks again and you resist the urge to drag him outside and let him have his way with you in the alleyway.

You only smirk back at him as the operator calls you to come forward and get atop the bull. Getting on top is easy, but staying on will be hard. As soon as you're situated, the bull starts spinning and bucking, slowly at first to let you get your bearings. You laugh and hold on, your body moving with the bull, anticipating its every move. Your hips grind down to the leather, thighs locked tight as you move your pelvis forward. Catching Whiskey's eye you blow him a kiss.

Seeing that the ride is winding down, he goes up to the operator and pays him to let you go again. This time, apparently on Whiskey's orders, the ride goes slower, allowing you to continue your little show for Jack. Keeping eye contact with him, you imagine it's him beneath you. Suddenly you gasp as you realize the bull is moving faster, and you watch as Jack's expression turns dark, lustful. You bite your lip as the speed increases. Pleasure pools in your belly, more specifically between your thighs, and the first stirrings of pleasure begin to radiate outward to your limbs, You rear your head back, face pointed up in ecstasy, and a rolling thunder starts in your veins.

You don't realize it until it's happening but you're being led away by Whiskey to a small corridor where no one can see you, and buries his face in your neck. "Tell me to stop if that's what you want," he says, his voice strained. "But by all that's holy, you are the hottest god damn thing I've ever seen."

But by then your leg is already hooked around his hip, shamelessly rubbing against him, the pleasure from the bull ride still fresh in your body. "I don't want you to stop," you whisper.

He growls low in his throat, which you dare to kiss, grazing your teeth across his skin. He gives a sharp hiss, and when he presses against you you feel proof of his desire, as if you needed any more. His hand goes beneath the hem of your dress and slides up, finding the edge of your lace panties. "Black?" he murmurs, his lips still against your neck.

"How did you know?"

You feel the curve of his smile against your skin. "I always know." His fingers trace your inner thighs before dipping into your heated, slick cunt. "Christ woman, you're soaking wet. For me." With his fingers inside you he kisses you, and you tip your face up to lean into his kiss, He slowly pumps two thick fingers inside as he slips his tongue into your mouth, mimicking the movements, earning a deep moan then a whimper from you.

"Watching you ride that bull, I just know it was me you were thinkin' of," he whispers huskily against your ear. "God damn if you aren't the most gorgeous thing I ever laid eyes on,, been wantin' you a long time, darlin'."

Through the haze of desire you smile, finding the temerity to feel touched by his words. "Took you long enough to show it," you tease, cupping the back of his head as you kiss, leaning against the wall as he fingers your wetness.

He groans again. "As much as I want to continue, I'd like to find a more comfortable place to fuck you." He pauses to look to you for consent. "That is, if you still want this."

You reply by palming his rigid cock, already threatening to poke through his tailored trousers. "I absolutely do.."

In a flurry of movement he brings you outside. The bachelorette party is the last thing on your mind, if you even still remember it, All you can think of is being with Jack. He leads you to his truck, the spacious backseat warm and inviting. He's on you again as that door is closed, His mouth finds yours, tongue claiming you. "I want to be gentle, but I don't think I have it in me right now," he admits.

You shake your head. "I'm not asking for gentle, I'm asking you to fuck me, Jack."

You've never called him by his name before, never been so informal with him, but the look in his eyes tells you it's perfectly all right by him. He lays you down on the seat. "Can I get a little taste of ya, darlin'? Been wonderin' what you'd taste like since the day we met."

This draws a sweet whimper from you, to hear he'd always wanted you. "God yes, please.."

He gingerly removes your panties, kissing his way back up your calves and thighs once they're off. You blush when he breathes in your scent. His hands cup the backs of your thighs, hooking them over his shoulders and you can't help but feel exposed. "Christ.. woman, you're gonna be the death of me," he mutters before taking off his hat and leaning in to devour you.

You give a sharp gasp as you lean your head back against the seat, hands mussing his hair as he laps at your wet cunt, licking up your folds and dipping his tongue inside you. He gently laps at your clit, using more pressure with each lick until he cups his lips around it and sucks, listening to how much you like it, how much more you need.

"Fuck!" you shout, a victorious roar as you feel yourself so close to that edge, and Whiskey is happy to let you use him for your pleasure. His tongue draws shapes upon your clit, alternating between swiping with his tongue and suckling it. Only when you come and he sweeps across every fold to drink up your juices does he stop.

You practically push him down, effectively trading places with him as you kneel before him. "My turn.."

His gaze turns dark even as his face lights up. "Hell, I'm not sayin' no to that, darlin'."

Smiling, you undo his trousers and pull them down with his briefs. His cock springs out, thick and long, perfectly curved, smooth, perfect. "God, I just knew you'd have a big dick.." you whisper, tracing with your tongue from root to head.

Whiskey exhales, watching you work on him. He palms the back of your head but doesn't urge you any further than what's comfortable for you. You use your hand to stroke his base while getting the first few inches of him into your mouth, daring to deep-throat him, wanting to see that look on his face, wanting to see him go crazy for you.

"Jesus, darlin'. I'm so on edge right now I might just burst if you keep doin' that," he chuckles. "Get on up here and ride me, gorgeous."

You feel your heart pound in every extremity of your body, especially your cunt, as you get up and straddle him, hiking up your dress. He stops you a moment and caresses your cheek. "This okay with you, darlin'? I have protection if you prefer.."

You smile and shake your head. "I'm on birth control, and I'm clean."

He smiles back. "Ah good. I'm clean too, darlin'." You know it has to be true, as the agents do periodic physicals and are prohibited from missions for the slightest findings.

Kissing him, you rise over him, using your hands to find him and bring him into you. He slides in without any resistance, and you take your time trying to get as much of him inside as you can. "Fuck, Jack," you whisper as he fills you.

Through the pleasure of connecting your bodies he smirks. "Is that an order?"

You giggle a little. "Looks like I'm the one doing the fucking." Just as you say that, he pushes up from under you, moving you up, filling you up just a little bit more. "God!!"

Sinking his teeth in to his lower lip he grabs onto your hips and moves you how he wants, watching your body for clues on what you like and what you want more of. He pulls the front of your dress down and frees your breasts, suckling on each nipple at a time as you melt on top of him, inadvertently letting more of him inside. He's fucking you and you're fucking him.

You grab his hat from the seat next to you and put it on yourself, riding your cowboy. Whiskey watches you, whispering your name, calling you his Cowgirl, bucking his hips up into you until he bottoms out, then lifting you with long strokes until you push him down to grind down. His thumb flicks over your clit, swirling the letters of your name and his, hearing your wild moans and shuddering sighs. You've never come so hard or so fast. You feel the first fluttery feelings deep within, and they shoot through your veins, lighting up your entire nervous system, and you scream his name as your cunt clenches spasmodically around his cock, and soon you feel him spill his cum deep inside you, spurting its warmth to your insides.

It takes a moment for you to come back to earth, and when you do, Whiskey is kissing you, tenderly, with the remainder of the passion you two just shared. "That was.. wow," you sigh, feeling shy around him now, of all times.

"It was spectacular, darlin'. I hope you know I'm gonna want you again," he puts his forehead to yours.

"Is that so?" You blush with elation.

"Of course darlin'. I'm hopin' to make this a long-term association, if you're so willin'. But on one condition."

You raise a brow. "Already calling the shots, huh? What's the condition?"

"That the only thing you ride is me. Ain't no way I'm being upstaged by a damn mechanical bull ever again."

You laugh, and he loves the sound of it. "We'll put a pin in that conversation."

He strokes your hair. The electric light from the bar sign lights up the inside of the truck, magenta and cyan. "You comin' home with me tonight, Cowgirl?"

You smile and give him a soft kiss. "You bet, Cowboy."

divider by @saradika-graphics 👑

[linktotheheart]

I feel like so many people misunderstand BOTW/TOTK Link especially (Zelda too, but that's another topic entirely)

His lack of expressiveness IS a personality trait. It's a direct result of the pressure on his soldiers to be a perfect soldier, hero, and savior. No, he's not Skyward Sword Link, and never will be, because his story is completely different.

"But [other Link] hugged Zelda when he got her back!" and this Link maintained a respectful distance as his princess's subordinate - but ALSO out of respect for Zelda as a person, because she spent her whole childhood having her agency denied and he wants to let her initiate even something as simple as platonic contact whenever possible. He's being kind!

(And yes, I know that primarily only the "he is a knight and she is a princess" part is directly supported in the actual game, but I'll remind the people making comparisons that the dynamic was COMPLETELY different in their favorite comparison game, Skyward Sword. But also... look at the gentleness with which Link interacts with Zelda, the tenderness that he shows so few other characters - Mipha probably being the closest example. Look at the way he looks to her first to see what to do in every scene they're in together, unless he's protecting her from an immediate threat to her life. Notice how outside of that, Zelda IS usually the one to initiate any physical contact)

I also personally hate it when people describe quiet, not very expressive people as "lacking personality" because... my partner IRL is like that. If she expressed herself at all around most people, it's in a very flat, reserved way. I've seen how it hurts her that people treat her like she doesn't have a personality, like she isn't even a full person - and I know that's real life and Zelda is fiction, but come on, do you think all the people that aren't highly expressive and extroverted don't hear that about very popular characters and internalize it?

Being reserved is a personality trait. Being cautious and not impulsive is a personality trait. In fact, I'd even say just because you as an expressive, extroverted person see Link as a blank slate to project your own personality onto, doesn't mean he actually is or was even intended that way.

(I also think this is a very US-centric point of view, honestly. There's plenty of cultures where even BOTW Link would be considered at least close to average - Finnish culture specifically comes to mind, even if he's still slightly exaggerated in that regard as, y'know, a character.)

Idk, this is as much a silly little vent post as anything, it's not that serious, etc, but whatever

(and don't get me started on "oh Zelda got no agency in TOTK and she learned the powers she was struggling overnight". No, it's called a time skip, and just because she learned her powers before the 13th hour this time - which yeah, she would get them easier this time with a mentor who could actually use the same powers, and having already learned to use her light powers - doesn't mean it just "happened overnight". And... she didn't express agency? She was actively influencing the entire flow of the timeline, changing the actions of her ancestors by convincing her ancestors to act, learning to control her powers and fighting Ganondorf, and finally expressing the ultimate form of autonomy in choosing to sacrifice herself to save the world. Some of the criticisms of TOTK didn't even seem to play the same game. Just because a heroine isn't a pop feminist badass who *gasp* wears pants and easily and perfectly kicks every villain's ass, doesn't mean she "has no agency" and is being sidelined. Like, a princess engaging in courtly politics is neither powerless nor "doing nothing")

[kozuwhore]

i actually never thought i'd have to make a post like this but this has actually annoyed me so much. in my previous post ,, i mentioned how me and my former friend ,, luma ,, are no longer in contact with each other due to an argument; an argument that started with them getting jealous of my irl friend and felt as though i had 'replaced' them.

while i will not only talk about that ,, i will also be disclosing their behaviour that they have performed whilst me and them had feelings for each other at the time. i will be going through everything from start to end.

before i begin ,, i want to make a quick note: if you are going to send any hate towards luma ,, that is on you and you only. i am not telling you to send hate because it won't make you any better than how they are. if you want to ask them questions about what has happened ,, ask them in a polite way and avoid any conflict.

@/scaryans aka luma was my best friend of two years ,, nearly going on three. we met on wattpad due to having a shared love of yandere simulator (neither of us support the creator) and our friendship progressed from there. we became closer upon finding out we both had feelings for one another; however ,, their toxic behaviour began inflicting onto me when i mentioned lucifer morningstar from hazbin hotel:

this was the conversation we had after me posting about lucifer. mind you ,, i never said that i was romantically interested in him ,, i just said that he was a cool character and that he is me. luma ,, however ,, got 'flashbacks' to how their ex used to be interested in not just hazbin hotel but lucifer as well. as a result ,, luma kept giving me dry responses and kept going on about how they wanted to die because of this simple matter.

in these screenshots ,, i am literally begging luma to forgive me because they would be upset with me and become depressed ,, which is something i didn’t want given how i was lovesick at the time and wanted them to keep loving me. my blinded loyalty to luma is the reason why i kept sticking by their side up until this point. shortly after me apologising ,, i agreed to never mention lucifer / hazbin hotel again to them and they forgave me (mind you ,, i had to ask if it was alright for me to mention the show).

truth be told ,, i did get jealous over some characters that luma liked as well (but i didn't say i was going to kill myself because of it). one character in particular was scar from wuthering waves ‐ he will be an important topic. i felt inferior to scar and often compared myself to him ,, something i talked to luma about:

throughout this vent with them ,, they gave me little responses and told me to watch a youtuber in hopes of calming me down when i told them about me still panicking about telling them this. they told me that they're not good at comforting others ,, which is understandable ,, but at the same time ,, i wrote MASSIVE paragraphs in hopes of making them feel better:

going back to scar ,, shortly after i told them about my feelings towards him ,, they later ask me to create headcanons and smut ideas for him not even half an hour later:

they say that it's because a few hours / half an hour feels like a couple days and that it's not an excuse; but you don't bother to change your behaviour after we had a talk that nearly cost us our friendship (before now)? the first time we discussed if our friendship should come to an end is when the callout post from @/rusmii was created and i kept finding stuff regarding people talking about luma / the experiences they through with them:

a day after i posted this to the server ,, luma puts in the chat how their mum wants them to drop me. of course ,, i was confused because it was so out of the blue but then this was the explanation:

not once did they say / imply that they don't want anyone talking or sending stuff related to the post. prior to this complaint (not even a week later) ,, we were having a conversation that consisted of them posting a meme about how they feel in regards to the post:

this was us talking about their rant and how i found something else following the callout post. i literally asked for their consent and they're making it out like i could give two fucks about how they feel ,, but i have done nothing but respect their boundaries in comparison to what they did with me with scar.

speaking of scar ,, i will now talk about how my irl friend's mention of scar (as well as my friend being in the groupchat) has resulted in why i'm making this post now. firstly ,, in regards to my friend ,, they asked me if they wanted to be part of the chat upon me mentioning a few topics (such as anime) that were involved (and that they enjoyed). i asked luma and they said yes.

may i mention that luma enjoys making new friends and they were really nice to rachelle (my friend) upon them joining the chat. however ,, luma started to become jealous of rachelle due to her putting her discord name title in the chat as 'olivia's n1 bff'. she meant this as a joke because no one can have a number one best friend but luma took this heart:

i reassured them and everything was fine between us; up until yesterday. me and rachelle were at work together and i started talking about the game ,, wuthering waves ,, and how it's a channel in the chat that keeps popping up. i talked about how my friends in the server have their f/os ,, showing rachelle different pictures of them ,, but when i showed the picture of scar ,, she got a picture of him and posted it to the chat. she talked about how she's gonna play the game because scar looks cool.

but luma being luma ,, they took it wrong and thought rachelle had a crush on them. rachelle isn't part of the selfshipping community and knows little about how attached luma is to scar / jiyan. this resulted in another conversation between us:

i asked ,, if not BEGGED ,, rachelle to take the message down because luma was clearly upset about it. she did so and everything was calming down in the chat. but luma decided to send me a message about our friendship AGAIN while the second screenshot was sent to the server SIX MINUTES LATER:

in regards to them talking about us not being best friends anymore ,, i had to comfort them AGAIN about it ,, which is when i started to get annoyed about the whole thing. we made up again but for some reason three hours later they sent another rant (classic luma behaviour):

today ,, rachelle responded to the rant and everything they said was the complete truth that i wish i got to tell them before our argument outside the chat. luma aka "the person who doesn't take responsability for their actions" soon sends a response:

you call it a "comfort space" but you're literally making me and my friend uncomfortable BECAUSE NOT ONLY ARE WE SENDING "DM-LIKE" MESSAGES TO EACH OTHER IN THE CHAT:

AND THE FACT THAT SHE DIDN'T KNOW THAT YOU HAVE AN UNHEALTHY ATTACHMENT TO A FUCKING FICTIONAL CHARACTER IS PATHETIC. how were we making a disturbance in the chat? you never said any specific person being uncomfortable with how we were talking plus rachelle only knew me PERSONALLY in the server ,, so did you really expect them to make friends that fucking quickly? good fucking bye.

yesterday ,, that was when our argument began and we finished it today. the following screenshots are what i consider to be the highlights of our dispute:

i can't add anymore screenshots due to the image limit but luma responded with "OH MY GOD CAN YOU ACTUALLY LISTEN TO ME FOR TWO SECONDS WITHOUT DICKRIDING RUNI AND THOSE ASSHOLES?" + "i swear you’ve been piggybacking off them this whole argument and it makes no sense."

you told me to take accountability for sending several apologies after i did something to upset you - which was a one time thing - and i did that ,, i respected that ,, but it's ironic that you're the one telling me to take responsibility when you haven't done that after two expose posts. THOSE POSTS were mentioned in the argument because you haven't grown yourself; you're still gatekeeping characters ,, getting overly jealous over my friend and saying that i "replaced" you.

just like rachelle said ,, you are chronically online and you need to go touch some fucking grass (without using it to smoke with). i reassured you TWICE about our friendship and you were still going on about it as if your whole world is crumbling. not only were you trying to gatekeep scar but you were beginning to want to gatekeep me ,, an actual human being ,, as well. if those two callout posts didn't help alter your behaviour ,, i hope to god this one does because this is coming from your former best friend of two years ,, which are years that i will never get back because of your toxic ways.

i regret ever defending you ,, i regret ever having feelings for you and i regret being your friend. you mean absolutely nothing to me and don't even think about my opinion as an excuse to guilt trip others into thinking you're the victim; you'll just be acting like a carbon copy of gabby hanna again.

if my other friends in the server don't wish to make contact with me anymore ,, that is fine. please talk to me in private and (for the love of god not) dick ride luma in the server or elsewhere by defending them with how they've acted that lead to this.

i would like to apologise to anyone that luma has villainised such as runi ,, zai ,, briar ,, ari and many others because you had every right to dislike them for what they have done to you / caused to others. the fact that i was siding with them didn't make things any better and i should have realised the moment the events that happened between you and luma were going on sooner. if you wish to speak with me about anything (whether it's about luma or not) ,, my dms are open and that goes for anyone else that wasn't mentioned above.

( taglist: @aslettes and @ddeardolly )

[roonilwazlibimagines]

control freak pt.2 - t.n x female!reader

Blurb: theo has control issues but his girlfriend doesn't mind

Word Count: 4.1k

A/N: warning - toxic!theo!! i also really don't like this but so many people wanted me to post it and i don't see myself making it better anytime soon so i thought i'd post it even though i hate it, sorry :/// i mainly hate it because it is just pure self indulgence, because my ex best friends actually did ruin my 21st and this brought up old wounds so if anyone wants to hear some gossip about people they don't know please hit me up because i'm ready to rant

also i'm so sorry of this is overstepping, but i tagged whoever asked for part 2 bc you all made me so happy commenting on my post <3333 @gilmore12 @avalentina @pretties-t

Masterlist | Part 1

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If she had her way, people would stop calling Theodore Nott controlling. Okay, maybe there had been times where he had lied to her and deceived to get his way, and sure, he was quick to rise to temper which often made her just agree with him, but it was just because he always knew what was best. 

And that was what she kept repeating in her trembling mind the night that Theo had made the phone call. 

She liked this side of him. She had said it to him explicitly that she liked it when he took control and she didn’t have to actively use her brain. 

After a year of dating, she thought Theo would be used to her indecisiveness, and yet, she was sat on the edge of his bed, all dressed up, whilst he he towered over her, waiting for her to make up her mind. 

“It cannot be this difficult of a decision.” 

“I just don’t know what I feel like.” Her legs were swaying, the backs of her thighs hitting the blanket draped over the edge of her bed. She hummed in thought, noticing the way Theo’s jaw began to tick. 

“What about that Mexican place?” This was the third place he had offered and even he noted the desperation in his voice.

“Do you want to go there?”

Theo had had enough. He knew the pretty girl sitting in front of him was hopeless at making decisions, but this was too far. 

“We’re going to the pizza place you like, okay?” Before she could open her mouth he continued, “C’mon, get up, we’re going.” And his arm was shooting out towards her so she grabbed hold of it and kept her mouth shut. 

And it was only after they left Hogwarts that she admitted to her pretty boyfriend that she liked when he ordered for her, because that was what he always did. And once he had this admission, Theo made sure his pretty girlfriend never had to make an order for whatever it was her heart desired. 

“I don’t know what a feel like, maybe I’ll just get cheese.” She put the pizza menu down and looked at Theo who was already looking back at her. 

“Sounds good.” He wasn’t too interested in the topic of the conversation, but he always made sure the pretty girl in front of him had his full attention. 

“What are you getting?” 

Theo knew what would happen the second he answered, and like clockwork, she immediately replied, “Ooh, maybe I’ll get that too.” 

“You can have some of mine,” he offered.

“But yours sounds better.” 

“We can have half of each.” 

But she wasn’t listening, her attention was drawn back to the paper menu in front of her. 

“I think I’m going to get vegetarian, instead,” she hummed.

“Whatever you want, princess.”

He watched her bit her bottom lip, and the skin above her nose crinkle. 

“Nah, I’ll get cheese.” Before Theo could respond she continued, “No, vegetarian.” Theo didn’t respond. “No, definitely cheese.” 

“You sure?” 

“No.” 

And Theo thought he really couldn’t be to blame for his control issues when his girlfriend was like this. 

When the waiter came over and looked at her first, she gave them a polite smile, but then returned her attention to the pretty boy in front of her, undeterred by the waiters lack of attention and relaying their order in full confidence. 

“-and a vegetarian pizza please,” he finished, making the decision for her. 

She liked not having to worry about trivial things like this, and Theo liked making sure he could rid a worry as small as this. Because that was all he wanted. For her to receive the best. 

Which was why, the night after her friends had called him controlling, he decided that he didn’t like the sound of these ‘work friends’.

And, no, it wasn’t just because they had caled him controlling. Merlin, most of his friends told him to his face that he was controlling. He already knew that. 

It was because even though they had invited her to go out countless times since that night, he didn’t properly meet them until her birthday. 

He had offered to bring them in when he brought her in, but she brushed him off. 

“I offered, but they declined,” she shrugged her shoulders, looking at the mirror in the sun shade for the passenger seat, missing the way Theo kept glancing over to her. 

When he picked her up he asked again if anyone needed a ride home, just like the good boyfriend he was. 

“I offered, but they said they were fine.” Yet when the drover around the corner a small sound of surprise left her pretty lips. 

“What’s wrong, princess?” Theo’s eyes kept flicking away from the road, trying to read her pretty face that was staring out of her window. 

“Nothing,” she shrugged her shoulders and turned back to face him, giving him a faux reassuring look. 

“Tell me,” he said in a tone that left no room for argument. 

“They’re just in line for another club,” she gave another shrug as if this had no importance, but it did to Theo because he could tell, even though she tried to hide it, that it had importance to the pretty girl sitting next to him. 

“I thought you were all going home,” he squinted his eyes slightly as he turned to look at her, but she wasn’t looking at him. When they drove past a light, he could see that she was chewing the edge of her lip. 

“I thought so,” she shrugged, finally turning to him, “oh well, I was ready to go home anyway.” She gave him a smile and if Theo hadn’t spent three years of his life with her, he would be convinced she was fine. 

It didn’t take long for Theo to decide that he didn’t like these so called friends. He didn’t explicitly tell his girlfriend this, but he didn’t hide his disdain either. 

When they cancelled plans and she went over to his house instead he’d angrily ask, “Well did they tell you why?”

“One of them had other dinner plans.” 

“But you had planned this a week ago.” 

She shrugged, “something came up.” 

The look he gave her was enough for her to know that he wasn’t happy so she changed the subject. “I really want to watch this new movie tonight, I don’t think you’ll love it, but I think you’ll tolerate it.” 

When he got a phone call from her barely an hour after they had gone out, reassuring him that she was okay, but she wanted to go home, he’d demand, “It was them wasn’t it, what did they do?” 

And even though he hadn’t said who ‘them’ were she’d still say, “no I’m just not feeling up to partying tonight.” 

Even though she sheepishly admitted that they were more interested in hooking up with some random guys then staying out together for their girls night which she originally thought was the plan. 

“That’s horrible.” 

She shrugged. “It’s fine. Do you think we can stop for some ice cream on the way home though?” 

The reality was, it was easy for her to say that Theo was just being his usual controlling herself. This was how normal friendships worked. And she didn’t have a lot of friends. She had her Hogwarts friends, but they were older now and weren’t in contact as much. And it was a much easier thought that this was what friendship was like rather than facing the fact that she didn’t really have any friends. Besides Theo of course. 

But she wouldn’t tell him these thoughts because she knew he would go on a rampage unti she was happy, so she never expanded on it and made sure that Theo never got a chance to tell her he hated her friends, even if she was certain he despised them. 

A few months later, just after they had been together for four years, Theo knew that it was time to make his lovely girlfriend his lovely wife, and he wasn’t going to let her friends come in the way of that, not when they had gotten this far. 

They had a small engagement party with their friends from Hogwarts and a couple of their work friends. She had, of course, invited those two girl from work, even if Theo had rolled his eyes behind her back when she informed him. 

It started when the two girls started fawning over her ring. 

“I need to know how much this cost.” 

Sure, Theo was the first to admit he had traditional values. She had teased him before about being old-fashioned. But he didn’t think discussing the price of his fiance’s engagement ring was an appropriate topic, especially in front of two girls he had maybe met twice, and didn’t exactly like. 

“He refuses to tell me,” the pretty girl grabbing his hand had answered instead. “He’s too old fashioned.” 

Her eyes flickered to him to let him know that she was joking and he gave her hand a itte squeeze to let her know that he knew. 

“Oh come on,” one of them said, “I’m dying to know.” 

The conversation lasted another couple of minutes with his pretty girl trying to swerve around the question while he remained silent. Which was unusual for Theodore Nott. 

Sure, he was a man of little words. And he much preferred to sit and observe rather than get invovled in the action. But that was always the opposite when it came to the pretty girl next to him. But he thought that if he opened his mouth, none of the three girls around him would like what would come out. 

But then it continued when one of them tried to flirt with Blaise albeit his polite refusal, not wanting to make a scene at one of his best mate’s engagements. 

Theo didn’t think anything of it until she had the audacity to come over to him and ask him about it. 

“You know your friend Blaise?” 

“Obviously.”

“What’s his story?” 

Theo refused to answer. They were in a private room and he was standing next to the bar, a drink in hand and he sipped it to avoid responding. 

Unsprusingly, she continued anyway. 

“Like, is he in a relationship? I didn’t think he was but then he refused me, but he is quite fit, I think, and he said this wasn’t the place for it, but I think he was just playing hard to get, what do you think?”

He was going to be drunk quite soon if she kept talking to him. 

“I think I’ll try again. Merliln, I love being friends with someone who has hot friends.” 

Theo downed the rest of his drink and promised himself that he was going to push the conversation out of his mind. 

And he probably would have if his pretty girl didn’t come up to him with a nervous look in her eyes, less than thirty minutes later. 

“What’s wrong?”

“Do you think we coud do cake now?”

Everyone had just finished eating and the volume of the music had increased to encourage people to start dancing. She was on her tippy toes, bringing her lips close to his ear so he could hear. Theo had his next drink in hand, but he was sipping it sowly after drinking the last so fast. 

“We just finished eating darling, give it a minute.” 

“I know but-” she gave herself away when she turned to look at the two girls Theo was trying to ignore the whole night. “They need to leave.” 

“They need to?”

The way she biting her lip and swaying on the spot was all Theo needed to see to tell him that that his pretty girl was lying to him. 

“Well, they got a call from one of their friends and-”

“I don’t want to hear it.” 

“Theo,” she whined. She knew the exact tone she needed to use to make Theo do whatever she wanted. But this apparently only worked for frivolous things. Not something like this. 

“No, we are doing cake later. If they need to leave, let them. But we are not doing it now just for them.”

“But-”

“I said no.” 

He hated the way she practically deflated in front of him. 

He hated that her bottom lip was trembling. 

He hated that they were doing this on their engagement. 

But she had to stop making excuses for these horrible people. 

“Will you tell them no?” Her voice was so soft he wasn’t sure he would have understood her if he wasn’t watching her intently. 

“I’ll tell them more than just no.” 

“Theo,” she whined, but he had already put his drink down and was storming over to them. 

“So you’re leaving?” Theo asked the two girls sitting down at one of the tabes. He had risen to his full height and she was immediately taken back to her Hogwarts days when rising to his full height meant nothing good and definitely something physical. 

“Yeah, but we’ll wait until you do cake.” One of them responded as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. 

She was squeezing his hand so hard Theo was convinced she’d leave bruises. Not that he minded. But her nervous energy was rubbing off on him and he wanted to send her away, just like he’d do back in Hogwarts when he’d rise to his full height. 

“Well we just ate, so we probably won’t do cake until later.” 

“Oh,” one of the girls said, “but we’re leaving now.” 

“Well, thank you for coming.”

“Ok,” the other said, standing up. “But I tought you said you’d do cake now?” She asked, turning to the small girl hiding behind her fiance. 

“I-” 

“I said it was too early.” Theo cut her off. 

And that was the end of that conversation. After a very awkward goodbye hug, the two girls had left. 

She didn’t know what to say to Theo. In once instance, she was glad that he had dealt with it. She didn’t really want to do the cake now, it was too early. But she also didn’t want to confront the two girls, she had to see them at work every day!

So even though Theo wanted to let out some sarcastic remark about how nice her friends were. He refrained when he saw the confused look on his pretty girls face. 

Upon reflection, this was the night everything turned messy. 

The next Monday the two girls had confided in their friend. 

“Don’t you think he’s a bit controlling?” One of them asked, trying to make their voice unaccusing but failing horribly. 

She shrugged as she said, “he means well. And, yeah, he is, but I don’t mind.” 

She didn’t dare tell Theo this, who, the night after the engagement, had decided he could bring up how much he hated her friends. 

“I don’t like them.” He had brought up after they had finished opening all of their well wishes. 

She already knew who he was talking about. 

“They mean well.”

“Do they?” He was sitting on the lounge and she had gotten up from her place on the floor to sit next to him. 

“Most of the time,” she laughed, even though he didn’t think it was funny. “They’re just different to us.” 

“Well I don’t like them.” 

She bit her lip. 

“I’m sorry.” Theodore gave her a look. Of course it wasn’t her fault. She couldn’t control who she worked with. 

“I just wish they treated you better.” She thought that if they continued with this conversation she’d start crying so she changed the conversation. 

“We have to thank Draco for his very generous gift.” 

Theo wanted to tell her that if he had his way, she would never see them again. He’d help her find a new job, or better yet, she wouldn’t have to work. His family were part of the Sacred 28, she didn’t need to work. 

But even with his controlling streak, he knew that might be a bit too far. 

That was until a couple of months later when it was her birthday. Theo had surprised her with a little trip that required her to take a couple of weeks off work. Which he had already organised. 

The two girls were bummed when she said this would mean she wouldn’t be having a birthday party. 

“But we can still party when I get back!” She had exclaimed.

“So I won’t get to see Blaise again? I really thought I had a shot.” She had gotten in response. 

Theo had organised for her to have a week off before they actually left and on the night before he could finally have her all to himself she was sitting with her head against the back of their bed, biting her lip and staring at her phone. 

“What’s wrong princess?” Theo had asked, lying down next to her. 

“Nothing.”

“Nothing?” He repeated. 

“I just, it’s stupid.” She said, turning her phone off and letting her head rest on the pillow next to his. 

“If it makes you look that stressed I’m sure it’s not.” 

“It’s just, they haven’t messaged me all week.” 

Theo already knew who they were. 

Theo wasn’t sure why this frivolous thing was his tipping point but for some reason it was. 

She wasn’t sure why she was telling him this, but it felt good to get off her chest. 

“I messaged them on Monday to say I’d miss them and hoped work wasn’t too boring without me, but they haven’t replied.” Her voice broke at the end of the sentence and Theo was convinced that was why he had chosen now to tip. 

“Don’t message them.” 

“What?” She turned her head to face him. 

“Don’t message them, see how long it takes for them to reach out.”

“Theo, you’re being ridiculous.” He gave her a look to let her know he didn’t like the words that left her pretty mouth. “We’re going away, I want to enjoy my time with you, don’t do this.” 

Much to his annoyance, Theo did as she said, trying to put it to the back of his mind so they could enjoy the trip he had been planning for months. 

But a part of her thought back to what Theo had said many years ago in his car when they were going home from Draco’s. 

“I know what’s best.” 

And she had spent so many years with Theo and there was a reason for this. She trusted him. So even though she made no commitment to it, a piece of her thought that she would listen to his advice. 

For the actual day of her birthday, Theo had planned a special dinner for her. He had gone to extreme lengths to make sure her day was perfect, which was why he couldn’t understand why his girl had a sad aura around her as she got ready for dinner. 

“What’s wrong, princess?”

“Nothing, Theo,” she said, trying to look up at him with sincerity. They were both dressed and ready, standing in their hotel room with their hands intertwined. 

“Princess.” 

“I’m just-” she looked at the ground, “they haven’t messaged me.” 

“Since we left?” 

She nodded. 

“Not even today?” 

She shook her head. 

Theo was ready to apparate back home and give them a piece of his mind, but instead he grabbed her chin and made her look up at him. 

“Please don’t worry your pretty little head about this, they don’t deserve you.” 

She was shocked with his response. She was sure he was going to apparate home and give them a piece of his mind. But he didn’t. And he was a calm in a very un-Theo like manner. And she liked it. So she trusted him. 

So he took her out for dinner and he made her feel like the most special girl in the world. And he did the same for the rest of their trip. 

On the last day they were both on their backs, lying in bed. The bedside lamp was on and Theo turned to see her eyes closed, but a pretty smile gracing her lips that told him she was awake. 

“Darling,” she opened her eyes and turned to him, humming in acknowledgement. “I called work today, told them to give you an extra week off.” 

Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion for a fraction of a second before she pieced the pieces together and nodded. 

“Thank you.” 

Theo had also taken a week off work to be with herand he became aware that her mood was quick to fluctuate.

After her birthday, Theo distracted her and she was happy. But the day before he could sense the nervous energy radiating from her being which magically disappeared the second he told her he had told work to give her another week. 

Similarly, he noticed she was okay when she was distracted during that extra week off. Until the weekend came. 

It was Saturday night and she was in the shower and Theo had been thinking about this for a while. He knew it was wrong. Knew it was crossing so many lines. But he couldn’t let his fiance suffer like this. 

He grabbed her phone from the bedside table and put in her password. He scrolled through her messages. Many of the last messages being from her, thanking various people for the kind birthday messages. When he found the groupchat he was looking for, he didn’t hesitate. 

The last message had been from her, the week before they left. Theo swore at them in his head. 

This is Theo, I think it’s best you delete her number from your phone. She won’t be coming back to work and she deserves better than the shit you’ve given her. 

Theo almost found it humorous that within seconds he got a reply. 

What the fuck? 

Look who’s talking

He scoffed at both of their replies and waited unti they stopped typing. 

You literally control everything she does

Maybe if she didn’t have such a controlling boyfriend we’d be able to have more fun with her

Theo debated blocking their number, but he just couldn’t resist. 

Right, like the fun you had with her on our engagement? Before you left after barely an hour for some random guy

It was silent for a minute. 

Before you practically kicked us out

Theo let out a quiet laugh

We love her and just want what’s best for her

Theo heard the shower turn off and his heart dropped. 

Yeah, and that’s why you never wished her happy birthday. Fuck off

And with that he blocked both numbers, deleted the group chat from her history, turned her phone off and put it where he found it. 

That was the easy part. Now he just had to convince her not to go to work. 

She came out of the shower, only a towel wrapped around her body, loose strands of hair falling from her bun. 

He could sense an unspoken sadness and he wondered if she could sense his unspoken annoyance. 

“Darling, “ he began, sitting on the edge of the bed as she made her way over to him. If he didn’t have a job to complete, he would’ve taken more time to appreciate the way she instinctively sat on his lap. “I’ve been thinking,” he cleared his throat as she looked up at him. The image of innocence on her pretty face. “Do you really want to work?” 

Apparently it wasn’t too hard to convince her to give it up. He had started explaining, “You know, you’re marrying into the Sacred 28 and I don’t want you to feel like I’m making you give it up-” which he totally was, “but I just want what’s best for you and-”

“Theo,” she interrupted. “I’d like that.” And she gave him a swift kiss before getting up and getting changed into her pyjamas. 

When she came back and joined him in bed he turned to her and said, “I’ll ring them tomorrow,” and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. 

She wasn’t stupid. She had been waiting weeks for a message from them and when she couldn’t even find the groupchat she knew something had happened. Knew that Theo was somehow involved. She debated asking him about it, but did she really want to know? She knew it must have happened while she was in the shower. She could practically hear Theo’s heart beating when she was sitting on his lap, but she was happy to live in denial. Her boyfriend was protective and he liked to look out for her, even if it sometimes crossed the line. But she was happy to put the blame on her two friends, and she fell asleep easy that night knowing that the boy who had his arm around her would always have her back.

[therealmrsgojo]

Valentines special (Gojo Satoru x Reader)

Hi, everyone! Posting my personal favorite snippet on my fic I'd lie! you can click the link if you want to read the full version of it. summary: first time meeting itadori yuji, as gojo satoru's wife! warnings: canon-compliant, pregnant reader and drunk-in-love gojo.

15th of August, 2018

You find yourself in the kitchen, humming softly to the music playing in the background. The aroma of the spices and herbs fills the air as you chop the vegetables for tonight's dinner.

A small smile adorns your lips as you hear the servants of your home offer to do the chopping instead. "No, thank you. I find myself enjoying these lately," you politely decline.

The servants bow to you in return, watching in admiration, their eyes fixed on the elegant and glowing woman in front of them, the head wife of the Gojo clan.

As you continue your tasks, your phone rings, breaking your concentration. You wipe your hands on the tablecloth and answer the phone.

"How's my pretty wife doing, hm?" Satoru's voice greets you from the other end of the line.

"I'm doing well," you reply, looking back at the pot and stirring its contents. "I'm cooking our favorite dish. It's almost done, honey."

"Shouldn't you be resting?" Satoru's voice inquires with concern. "You just got off from work. If you're going to do the cooking instead of letting the helpers do it, why don't you quit your job for now and just wait for me every day with your pretty little face?"

"That's not going to happen, Gojo Satoru," your tone was stern and resolute. You continued by confessing, "I hate doing nothing. Simple things like cooking make me happy." He could hear the passion in your voice as you spoke about your newfound love for cooking.

On the other end of the line, he sighed deeply, realizing he couldn't argue with you. He knew that you were a determined and independent person and that it was hard to change once you set your mind on something.

Imagining your pouty lips, pleading eyes, and even a soft, simple "please" from you would make his knees buckle in defeat. He, the strongest sorcerer, was no match for you.

"And also, I wanted to give you a heads up that Megumi will be joining us for dinner tonight," he said, pausing a moment before adding, "Oh, and a new student of mine, too, if that's alright with you."

"Of course it's okay," you replied with a smile, "I appreciate you telling me beforehand so I can prepare. Do you remember the last time you brought Maki, Panda, Yuuta, and Megumi all at once? I was caught off guard and unprepared."

"I remember. Especially how you didn't kiss me for a whole day afterward because you were so upset." Satoru laughed, adding, "We'll be there soon. Love you ~ "

As the call ended, you turned to one of the servants standing nearby, ready to assist you at a moment's notice.

"Hana, please prepare some guest rooms for tonight," you said, trying to keep the excitement out of your voice. "We might need them later for our visitors. Thank you." You patted her shoulder, seeing her nod, before she turned around to follow your orders.

After your engagement, the wedding came soon after, taking place a few months later. You and Satoru had decided to have a simple ceremony with only the most important people in your lives present. You wanted to honor the traditions of the Gojo clan that had fascinated you since you first met Satoru.

Following your honeymoon, you were named the new head wife of the Gojo clan. Satoru's parents had decided to move out, passing on the responsibility of running the family estate to you and your husband. This was a significant moment for you both, as it was a tradition that had been passed down through generations.

The other servants had kindly taken care of wrapping up your cooking and set the table for dinner. You stood in the kitchen, washing your hands; you couldn't help but feel satisfied with your small accomplishment.

Lost in thought, you suddenly felt a pair of soft hands tenderly caressing your stomach, a body pressing up against your back, and nose slowly breathing in the scent of your neck. The unexpected touch sends a shiver down your spine, but you quickly recognize the familiar touch of your husband.

As you turned around, you saw your husband's warm smile that lit up his face. He quickly bent down to one knee and nuzzled his face into your stomach, murmuring, "I missed the both of you." You laughed at his affectionate gesture as you lovingly caressed his hair in response.

"I'm not sure they can hear you yet, love," you conveyed with a gentle smile. "I'm just barely two months pregnant, 'Toru."

Your husband looked up at you with a pout on his face, making you giggle like a teenager. He then stood up, took your face in his hands, and pressed soft kisses to your forehead, nose, and lips. The warmth of his embrace and his scent enveloped you completely.

He then turned to you and said, "Hi, my wife," looking at your face with a loving gaze, as if he was seeing you for the hundredth time but still couldn't get enough of you.

You both heard voices from the dining room, and your husband took your hand, pulling you and leading you toward the two students you had been expecting.

As you entered the room, a pink-haired boy with a curious look on his face muttered, "Wow, it's so big here, Fushiguro," his eyes scanned the delicate features around the room in amazement.

"(Y/N)-san," Megumi noticed you first and walked towards you with a small smile. You embraced him, feeling happy to see him doing well, patting his back and giving him a quick peck on the cheek before letting go. "How are you, Megumi?" you asked him.

"I'm doing well, thank you, for all that food you sent to the dorms, too," he replied, his cheeks turning slightly red at your affection.

As you stood there, your husband caressed your hair and introduced you to the other student. "Yuji, this is my wife (Y/N)," he said, turning towards the boy staring at you in awe, his mouth slightly apart.

"Itadori Yuji, nice to meet you," he said, bowing profoundly and complimenting you on your beauty that made you and your husband laugh.

"Nice to meet you too, Yuji. Let's go eat now, shall we?" you said softly, patting his shoulders as you led him to one of the dinner chairs.

The dinner was filled with laughter and stories as you all caught up with each other. You felt happy to see Megumi and Yuji bonding so well, as they were a perfect mix. You also learned about Nobara, another student you wanted to meet soon. As supper ended, every one commended your cooking, and you suggested that the two students stay for the night, offering rooms that were ready for them. They agreed happily.

As you both retired to your quarters, your husband's face was pressed up against your stomach, his hands caressing your hips as he mumbled sweet nothings to your unborn child.

You ran your fingers through his hair, smiling at the sight of the strongest sorcerer alive baby-talking to your pregnant stomach.

"I love you, (Y/N)," Your night was spent tenderly, with sweet words lingering in the air between you and your husband.

The moonlight bore witness as you made love with each other, lost in your own world of passion and intimacy.

Note: Aaaand that's it! Happy hearts day everyone! Thank you for reading this.

"Where we love is home – home that our feet may leave, but not our hearts."

xoxo,

Aurora.

[whatbigotspost]

Sometimes it feels like everyone left leaning on this site are at the extreme polar opposite ends of a spectrum of "compulsory vote blue or die and kill us all, you stupid selfish piece of shit" or "vote for Biden and you're a fucking warmonger who will kill us all, you stupid selfish piece of shit."

I'm so sick of it. It's exhausting.

I can't do justice to this point in a tumblr post. But for now I'll say, as with everything in life, it's all so much fucking more nuanced than this. Both systemically and personally. No 2 people on this site's voting access and circumstances are remotely the same. Y'all really gonna tell me it's the same experience every step of the way to vote in rural Texas as it is downtown NYC? Indianapolis as LA? Denver as Honolulu? Alaska as Alabama? And that’s only speaking to geography which is 1 factor of so many.)

I'm gonna hold my nose and vote for Biden. Again. (Again and again if you count VP.) AND I fucking hate him and his politics. I was raised as close to the "vote blue or die" side of the spectrum as one could be in 1984. My parents were shit, but they did take me to see voting w/ them. I was raised with a hero of a grandmother who reminded me every election cycle that when she was born, her mother wasn't legally able to vote.

I ended up spending 4 years studying poli sci, where my academic mentor and thesis reader was the first Black woman (I'm white) who I'd ever gotten to formally learn from. She was the first person who also ever challenged my idea that "voting is the ultimate way to participate in society" and opened my eyes to the substance of the choice to not participate in politics that way. She was foundational and planted the seed of the thought in my mind, but my continued educational path studying the governmental systems of the US far outside her direct tutelage kept raising the same questions for me. After that educational experience, I basically walked away with a following 17 year (ever growing) mental ethical dilemma and debate on this in my own mind that has just gotten more and more intense because I can personally understand both of those extremes and why they are so passionately felt.

But I just don't agree that we should be spending our time continuously text screaming at another person that the choice you arrived at (for the reasons YOU have) are in any way actually relevant to a stranger.

If you read this and you're at one of those extreme ends, I want you to know: I don't blame you or have a negative judgement against that. But if you think that YOUR REASONS are the same truths present for all other folks on the left side of the stupid ass US political spectrum, you're wrong. You just are.

[channieskies]

Chapter II: The Heir of New Aeris

Pairing: Prince Hyunjin x Reader (AFAB)

Genre: Historical|Au, Fantasy|Au, Strangers to Lovers, Royalty|Au, Angst, Smut, NSFW tags are under the cut.

Synopsis: The kingdom of Volantis is in disarray; the monarch rules with an iron fist. The times of hope, harmony, and kindness were buried with the queen who passed many years ago. The people are praying for a savior, but who will be their light at the end of this dark tunnel?

Authors Note: Please reblog or leave a like or comment to let me know how you feel. I'd love a little feedback. Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoyed it.Warnings: MINORS DNI! This post contains nsfw material. Please do not interact with it if you are under the age of 18. Do not translate or repost to other sites.

Word Count: 1691 [Reading Time: 7 mins]

Disclaimer: This story does not reflect the real lives or personalities of Stray Kids. I do not know them personally. This is purely a work of fiction.

Story Index

Warnings⚠️: MINORS DNI! This post contains nsfw material. Please do not interact with it if you are under the age of 18. Do not translate or repost to other sites. Mentions of Death (minor character)

The room had fallen into chaos. Confusion settling into the cracks of each duke's polished demeanor, all but one. “If the next child she bears is a girl, we will have to crown some other next of kin as the heir. Donnius, track down the king's sister and her son.” The rotund man told a servant who quickly skittered off to do as told.

“He would never be fit for king with his.. iniquitous habits. I object to the suggestion.” Another waved off the idea, his nose held high in the air with disgust.

“There is a distant cousin on his mothers side- Never mind that, Her appearance was just deceiving.” The hope quickly disappeared from another man's voice as he examined the royal family's tapestry.

A man sat quietly at the head of the table, watching the spectacle in front of him unfold. Had they forgotten the truth? Forgotten the old kingdom before darkness had fallen over it with the death of their queen? He groaned, stroking his gray lined beard. It was clear he was tired of watching things unfold as they were. 

“Have you truly forgotten how our Queen died?” The men in the room came to a halt as his booming voice filled the space. “She made the sacrifice of giving her life for the heir to this kingdom. Do not forget that. Don't EVER forget that.”

The rotund man cleared his throat before speaking, “No one has seen or heard from the prince in over a decade. Who is to say he's even still… with us, Ermias?” The man called Ermias stood from his seat, towering over everyone in the room.

“He is alive and safe.” He made his way to the door. “I will leave in the morning to retrieve the only option we have. Keep the kingdom and the royal family safe while I am away. If something goes awry, send my daughter on the fastest steed you have.”

“Your daughter?” The man in front of the tapestry laughed. Why would we send a woman when we have plenty of able-bodied, capable men that can do the job?” The other men in the room looked wide eyed at his sudden outburst. One even mouthed “You fool” as the words left his mouth. 

“Because my daughter is one of the most capable and trustworthy people in this kingdom. Because my daughter is more skilled than all of your men combined. So, I trust that my daughter will be informed of any mishaps, correct? Now, if you'll excuse me. I have a trip to prepare for.”

Ermias was the Duke of State for the Kingdom of Aeris, the newest acquisition of land conquered by King Seojoon. It was named after the king's late wife Aeri, after a war that lasted five years. Ermias was a general in the king's army and after his procurement of the land left him with a limp, he was promised a high position in the government. He worked through the ranks, becoming one of the king's most trusted advisors.

But Ermias hated politics. He considered himself to be more of a doer instead of one that dictated what the doers should do. Commanding an army felt completely different than what it was he did now. But at the behest of his wife and two daughters, he knew resuming his work as the general was not an option. So, he begrudgingly took a seat on the high council, helping to govern over the southern states of the king's land.

The commute home was tedious. His home was far from the castle town of  Volantis and even further from the new Kingdom of Aeris. He lived with his family on a plot of land that was left to his wife, passed down from generation to generation. An apple farm, with the most deliciously sweet fruits hanging from its trees. Their home was modest, just a few stories with a few rooms. The greatest in which was the library, intellect was the thing they held in most regard. The small castle almost swallowed up the vast land that surrounded its pale crape bricks. With an orchard, vineyard, and gardens bordering it, it nearly blended into its surroundings with all of the ivy covering its facade. He truly found his home to be as beautiful and inviting as the women who lived in it.

His long trip home concluded in the wee hours of the morning. He expected no one to be awake, so he was shocked when he found his eldest daughter camped out at the bottom of the stairs, waiting for his arrival. “Father!” She jumped to her feet and into his arms, hugging him tightly. “How was the council meeting?” She moved to help him out his coat and shoes. “Have they all settled on an heir? Are they going to retrieve the prince?” She knew all about the Prince and how he'd been hidden away during the war. Ermias sighed, slipping his shoes off and pulling his daughter with him to his study so that they could talk more privately. 

See, Ermias had a son once, one that was seventeen years his first daughter's senior. Nikolas was the first born to the family. Both he and his wife Semira were very young when he was born. They were newly married when they got the news that they were expecting, but happy nonetheless. He lived to the age of twenty and he died fighting in the war alongside his father Ermias. He vowed that he'd never lose a child like that again. He taught his daughters in the years after how to not only defend themselves, but how to think  defensively and also know when to back down.

He was happy knowing that his girls would never have to fight in a war, especially unprepared. But, if need be, they could protect their home, their mother, and each other. “Sit. I'll tell you all about it.” His walk was heavy, tired from years of war and hard day's of travel. “They presumed the prince was dead. That is if they hadn't forgotten he'd existed entirely.” He shuffled through his desk, looking for something the king had given him many years before. “

“I have a feeling that a few councilors are trying their best to find someone they can control to put in the prince's place, just to amass power. We can't let them have their way, Volantis will fall and the kingdom will be in disarray. We are just recovering from the war, the people cannot suffer through another. I will pack my bags and make the trip to the Isle of Arcta in the mor-”

“No, father.” His daughter shook her head. “Send me and one of your best men. The trip is far too treacherous for you to travel. I know you'd never admit to it, but I know you've been ill these last few weeks. The stress of your job and having to help with some of the king's duties are taking a toll on you. So, I will go in your stead.” Ermias couldn’t help the smile that spread on his face. His precious daughter had grown to become a strong and beautiful woman. He found the small pendant that he'd stored away for safe keeping. It was a symbol of how he'd helped the king secure the lands that were now under rule of the throne. One that would be recognized by the maid that kept watch over the prince.

“My darling daughter, my how you've grown.” He stood to his feet, remembering the last time a child of his took on a task this heavy. There was a display on his bookcase of swords he cherished too much to use. One of which was his son's, the one he was clutching as he died on the battlefields. It was one of Ermias’ most prized possessions, something that his father passed on to him and he passed on to his son. Now, he was passing it on to his daughter, along with the king's guard pendant he'd stored away.

Shaky hands grabbed the sheath and hilt of the old sword. He sighed, the metal feeling heavy in his hands with thoughts of the burdens of war, plaguing his mind. “This does not mean I want you to fight. I’m passing you this sword to protect yourself, to protect the prince.” He finally turned around, presenting the great sword to his daughter. The hilt was ornate gold and ivory, while the ricasso had the family's coat of arms; the raven on an apple. 

The rest of the blade had the family's motto written down in latin; “Po familia vivimus et pugnamus.” For family, we live and we fight. Then he placed the necklace around her neck, moving her hair out of the way to fasten it. The pendant sat low on her chest, falling between her breasts, where thankfully it would be hidden. If the wrong people were to see it, it would cause unnecessary trouble for her, and that was something he didn't want.

The sword was something that his daughter was told not to touch when she was a child. After his son lived and died by the sword, he was afraid she would suffer the same fate. The last thing he wanted was to lose his daughter the way that he lost his son. “Wake Minho, tell him to pack for the trip.” Minho was the duke's housecarl, he’d been with the family since boyhood. Ermias found him nearly dead in the woods during the war. 

Bandits found him and his mother, running from the onslaught of war that had overtook their small town. They did unspeakable things to his mother, killing her in the process. They nearly killed him too; beating the child until he was bloody and almost unrecognizable. Because of the trauma of that day, he hasn't uttered a word since. “I’ll prepare your carriage and horses.” He kissed his daughter's forehead, lips lingering there as if this would be the last time he’d ever get the chance to see her again. 

A.N: Please reblog or leave a like or comment to let me know how you feel. I'd love a little feedback. Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoyed it.

[Rewrites, Reposts, and Translations are Prohibited]

[thealexchen]

hi! i recently got back into lis2 again and that made me really curious - do you still agree with a majority of the critiques you made on lis2 in 2020? i know it's been 4 years since that post was made, but i actually do remember when you dropped this critique on a separate account and i'd thought it was an interesting one to keep in mind back then :)

i appreciated a lot of what you have to say, even if i respectfully disagree with almost all of it 😭 - i didn't want to drop a whole "why" i disagree discussion on here because it seems kind of rude to drop such a huge thing about it haha, but i would like to say that this critique actually did stick with me for a bit and i appreciate that you made it when you did! your account was a big lis2 acc that i remember back in the day, and i always loved seeing your posts!

Hi there and thanks for your ask! I think I may know who you are, but you did get me thinking about that critique again (has it been four years already?? Jesus). After rereading it again, I have to say my overall opinions haven’t changed… I’m just not as invested in them as I used to be.

Since DE came out, I’ve seen a drastic shift from favoring D9 to DN, but I really think the reception comes down to their creative choices (or lack thereof). When I gave my initial thoughts on DE in May, I said that D9’s games rely heavily on fanservice to be marketable, while LiS2 was divisive from the jump because it was so obviously rooted in DN’s prioritization of making a game out of passion and not what would sell well (a continuation of Max and Chloe’s story). People have mostly been complaining that DE feels written without much thought or care for the original game, with lazy offscreen narrative decisions. Unfortunately, I believe this output is really due to D9 being puppeteered by Square to “corporatize” this series to death, which I find really depressing.

When LiS1 first debuted in 2015, the gaming industry was still recovering from Gamergate (which proved how misogynistic it still was) and LGBT+ issues were finally achieving mainstream attention, both positive and negative. The media storm surrounding LiS1 all focused on how different it was. It was truly radical at the time to turn what would be a typical Sundance indie film plot into an interactive AA game and make it mainstream. I think both the positive attention from gamers starved for a story like this and the negative attention calling it “Life is Tumblr” contributed to its massive popularity and attention that hasn’t been matched since.

I have always, always believed (like since 2018) in LiS being an anthology series and letting Max and Chloe’s story end. “Farewell” was supposed to be that, and I was really excited to see what DN was making next and hopeful I could fall in love with LiS2 like I did the first game. Even if I found LiS2’s narrative choices really frustrating, I still respect DN for sticking to their vision. Honestly, Michel Koch deserves his flowers so much for staying active on Twitter through years of fan hate and complaining and posting consistently respectful replies, even as his own characters have likely become unrecognizable to him.

But while DN stuck to their vision about LiS2, I think the main contextual issue with the game (and where my critiques came from) is there was too much pressure to follow up an accidental hit. DN wanted to follow up LiS1 with an even bigger, more serious, more ambitious, maybe more “artistic” and “daring” game that was boldly political… but I just don’t think they achieved that. The game still looks beautiful, with a strong soundtrack, art direction, moments of calm, and great environmental storytelling like the first game. But while LiS1 lured you into a false sense of security with its cozy vibes and high school setting, only to blindside gamers with heartbreaking and shocking plot twists late in the game, LiS2 is just a misery fest from start to end in an attempt to be as serious and memorable as the first game. There isn’t enough joy and nostalgia (DN is SO good at nostalgia) to contrast the sorrow, and the game wasn’t as memorable or fun to play for me.

My main critique in 2020 was the game relies too much on a violent trauma narrative without proper research and content warnings. Looking back on it now, I think DN internalized the praise too strongly that LiS1 was daring and different. They tried to be even more topical and bold without regard to how actual players of color might react to the racial violence onscreen. In addition, I critiqued LiS2 for not showcasing the positive aspects of Sean and Daniel’s Mexican heritage to contrast all the racism, and I thought True Colors did a better job at including meaningful and positive cultural details for Alex and Gabe’s family. They likely didn’t think to research more carefully how to depict POC (and how the standards for sensitive representation might be different in the U.S. compared to France). American politics are also wayyyy more complex than what’s on the news, and have a massive historical, social, and economic background, and nowadays, I’ll cut DN some slack and say I think that’s too much to tackle for any game. Yes, DN could’ve done better, but I wouldn’t critique them as harshly today, and I know they had good intentions.

If the pressure to follow up LiS1 wasn’t there, maybe LiS2 could’ve been different. Maybe DN wouldn’t have bit off more they could chew, or maybe this game could’ve been made independently of the LiS series and judged on its own merit. A game like Tell Me Why shows how DN is at their best when they tell smaller, nostalgic stories and are able to do the right research and collaborate with the right consultants and actors. I hope Lost Records can be the same, since DN is pitching it from the jump as an anthology and likely their do-over of LiS as their own independent studio.

Thank you again for asking! It was nice to revisit my critique. If you’d still like to talk about it, I am down for a friendly debate!