#but welp I think I’m addicted now

[cupidskissx]

hi!! idk if u accept prompts but i love ur monaco malaise and- yeah

mastermind by taylor swift. but make it lestappen

Thank you for the love on Monaco Malaise, it truly mean so much to me! 🥰🤩

*Frantically listens to Mastermind for the first time, downloads lyrics and annotates*

I’ve never had an actual prompt before, 🥹 I’ve been afraid to put the call out, it’s such a lot of pressure and risky 🫣

That being said, I loved writing this! If anyone else has any prompts, please send them my way! I hope you enjoy this little AU, Anon ❤️

~~~

The first time Max saw Charles, he knew.

He wasn’t sure what he knew, but he knew it. Call it luck, lust, or destiny, or perhaps a combination of all three. Whatever it was, he felt it in his bones.

He’d heard whispers Ferrari were considering a new team boss — some hot shot who flew up the ranks at Maranello. However, Max’s two week, no-contact vacation with his mum and sister saw him miss the media storm after Leclerc’s appointment.

The summary of meeting minutes and critical updates that his Executive Assistant compiled upon his return only had him mentioned once, in a two sentence dot point:

Charles Leclerc to replace Frederic Vasseur as Team Principal of Scuderia Ferrari. Effective: 1 January 2028.

It was easily skimmed over in favour of actioning the mass of paperwork requiring his approval.

Maybe if he’d known how this man would shift all his focus and ambition in a matter of moments, he would have at least read his profile online. Or, perhaps issued a full investigation to learn everything there was to know about him — signing it off as: “getting to know your competition”.

Alas, he did neither, leaving the universe — in all her surreptitious glory — to place them in the right place at the right time.

*

The Bahrain briefing room was hot and stuffy. Max was half out of his jacket when the door opened. An unfamiliar figure squeezed in. He was flushed, his hair spiked up. He had a notebook under his arm, a pen perched behind his ear, and he was struggling to get his phone into the front pocket of his jeans. The meeting was yet to start, but he shot Stefano Domenicali an apologetic look.

The man, who appeared close to his age, secured his phone and scanned the room for an available seat. It was surprising, concerning even, the way Max’s peripheral vision reduced until all he could see was this flustered, handsome man in the doorway.

It was like one of those cliché moments in a rom-com, the lead actress walking in, hit by a spotlight, the only one in the room — Max couldn’t look away. The man’s gaze landed on Max and his lips twitched up in a small smile, enough to make Max’s heart stutter. Max forced himself out of his stupor, smiled back, and continued to take off his jacket.

Niels Wittich tried to squeeze passed the man, knocking into him, forcing him to move out of the way and make a seating decision. He weaved through the row in front of Max, and was considerate enough not to sit directly in front of him, choosing the next seat over. Max surveyed the room, every other Team Principal was there, so that could only mean one thing. He was Charles Leclerc.

Charles settled into his seat and checked the spiral spine of his notebook, he paused. He opened it to a fresh page then started to pat down his pockets. Coming up short, he checked the spine again. Max squeezed his lips together to prevent himself from laughing. Before Charles could frisk his pockets a second time, Max leant forward and tapped his shoulder.

Charles turned around, his furrowed brow smoothing out. Handsome wasn’t all-encompassing enough to describe him. He was ethereal, timeless beauty carved by an ancient, wise deity.

Max didn’t trust his voice so he gestured to his own ear. It took a moment, but Charles’ face split into an embarrassed grin, his dimples popping, and cheeks flushing. He plucked the pen from behind his ear.

“Merci, J’oub— oh, sorry, I just got off the phone with my brother...”

Max didn’t have the opportunity to tell him he understood French — he’d lived in Monaco for long enough — because Charles wiggled the pen and kept speaking, “Thanks, I’d forget my head if it wasn’t screwed on.”

Charles looked down to clip his pen through the wire bound spine as Max said, “Now that would be tragic.”

He looked back in Max’s direction, his smile shy, his eyes twinkling under the fluorescent lights, Max’s chest flooded with smug satisfaction and something else. Something that tingled. And because Charles wasn’t presumptuous, he leant over the back of his chair, offered Max his hand and said: “Charles Leclerc, I’ve taken over from Freddy.”

“Max Verstappen, TP for Red Bull,” he shook his hand, “Enchanté, and all that.”

Charles snorted a laugh, “And all that,” he repeated, his tone soft and warm.

“Welcome to another season gentlemen,” Stefano said from the front of the room.

They broke their lingering handshake, acknowledging that their conversation was over, their smiles faded, and Charles turned around to face the front of the room.

Max peaked over Charles’ shoulder every now and again, watching him write headings, sub headings and dot points in faint, chicken-scratch cursive.

When the presentation moved on to the compulsory, OH&S policies and procedures Charles started to doodle a small race car in the margin of the page.

It was that moment Max knew he was doomed. He had no choice but to wriggle his way into Charles life, or ruin his career trying.

[lurkingshan]

Last Twilight Episode 12

A month ago, I never could have predicted that I’d be sitting here trying to assemble some thoughts to explain how on earth this show went so badly off the rails. I am truly taken aback by where this story landed, and I advise anyone who wants to think of it fondly to just pretend it ended at episode 9, and even skip the finale if you haven’t watched yet. Before I get into it, let me just start with a word of praise for the cast, who did a great job with their performances and kept this show afloat when the writing fell apart. And boy, did it fall apart.

In my view, this narrative had three main threads it was addressing: 1) Day’s journey to accepting his disability; 2) unresolved family trauma; and 3) Mhok and Day’s romance. And in the end, it failed on all three of them. I am going to dig into this and I am not feeling particularly nice, so if this is going to hurt your feelings I suggest you stop reading now. 

Day’s Journey

Just…wow. We have been afraid of this turn the entire time and trying to hold out hope that the show would not go there, but here we are. I started laughing out loud when we got to the end of part 3 and Mhon’s phone went off with an alert for a new eye donor, and then just stared incredulously at my screen as we time skipped AGAIN to a Day whose vision had been restored for years (last week I joked to @bengiyo and @waitmyturtles that once a drama starts using time skips it becomes addictive and they never stop, and—welp!). What was this entire show for? Why did we spend twelve episodes with Day grieving his vision loss, learning how to cope, and finally accepting his blindness only to completely undercut it at the end? The first part of the finale was so much about how he was thriving—finding a new career for himself and becoming self-sufficient and growing so much on his own—only to give us an ending that implied he could not actually have his happily ever after without his vision restored. 

And this is in fact the message they sent by coupling the return of his vision with the return of he and Mhok’s relationship, and giving us a happy ending rooted in his contentment at having his sight back. They even went back to the Last Twilight mountain to completely tarnish the thematic resonance of the original scene. Calling back to the beautiful memory of Day “seeing” the sunset and experiencing “a moment so good that you feel like you can live there forever” as he accepted his disability with this scene of him seeing the real sunset with his restored vision was so hurtful to me that I actually got angry. Day didn’t need his vision back to get a happy ending, and I absolutely hate what this communicates about disabled people’s capacity to live happy and fulfilling lives. This show has created many writing sins but this is the most unforgivable to me.

Family Trauma

The show began dropping the ball on this one a few weeks ago, but this finale put the nail in the coffin. We spent most of this episode at Porjai and Night’s wedding, an event that might have felt meaningful if the show had let us see any of their romance. I’m grateful to Mark Pakin and Namtan Tipnaree for their beauty and charisma because it’s the only thing that made me care about those scenes at all. Rather than actually being about them, however, this wedding was used primarily as a clunky vehicle to deliver heavy-handed messages about “second chances” to encourage Day to get back together with Mhok (more on that in the next section). 

I did enjoy the brief nods in this episode to the brothers continuing to have newfound harmony in their relationship, but where the show really lost me was in their attempt to bring Night and Day’s dad back into the mix and imply some sort of resolution between him and Mhon. Mhon, a woman whose perspective on their split we never actually saw, whose motivation for her choices and behavior toward her sons were completely elided by the narrative, who was forgiven and made peace with offscreen during a time skip. I was never given the chance to understand her or what this relationship meant to her in the first place, so why would I care about these scenes with her making her peace with this man? I continue to be so confused about where this show chose to spend its time, and why someone with Aof’s track record on developing strong and narratively important familial relationships dropped the ball so much with her. 

The Romance

Okay, let’s get into it, and remember what I said about not reading if this is going to hurt your feelings! My criteria for considering a romance successful is I have to believe the relationship is mutual, beneficial to both of the pair, and that the couple is prepared to weather future challenges. Last Twilight’s romance fails on all three fronts, and it all comes down to the total imbalance in the relationship that persisted right through the final scenes.

This entire narrative has been Mhok bending to Day’s will, giving Day what he needs, forgiving him for everything, and letting him make all the decisions about the relationship, and the finale was regrettably more of the same. In episode 11, Mhok made a mistake when he lied to Day about turning down the job in Hawaii. But he made that mistake out of grief and fear, and Day didn’t care—he unfeelingly rejected him and his pain and ended their relationship without a second thought. That was potentially forgivable as a momentary lapse borne out of instinctual hurt, and could have been repairable had Day reconsidered soon after and extended Mhok some grace. But in this episode, we find out Day blocked Mhok and refused to communicate with him again after that night, and has left Mhok completely in the cold for three years after he failed to be perfect one (1) time.

And this episode? Was on Day’s side in this conflict. Mhok is the one to return and start pursuing Day again. Mhok is the one to broach the topic of their breakup. Mhok is the one to thank Day for breaking his heart and tell him he did nothing wrong (y’all, I almost threw something at the screen). Mhok’s grief and trauma go completely unaddressed in this finale until they try to play the Rung card for one last moment of sentiment. Day cries to his mother about how he just doesn’t know if he can forgive Mhok. And in the end, Mhok makes the grand gesture, missing his flight to go to Day and stay in Thailand with him despite the successful life he has built in Hawaii.

The cognitive dissonance I felt watching this play out was extreme. I rarely see a writer misunderstand their own characters and relationship conflict so thoroughly. In order to believe in this romance we needed to see Day finally show some empathy for Mhok, take responsibility for his own mistakes, and be the one to make an effort this time. We needed to believe that Day has the capacity to be a supportive partner to Mhok even when he’s struggling. But Day didn’t demonstrate any of that, and so I simply don’t believe in this relationship. I don’t believe Mhok can trust Day not to abandon him again when some other major life event intervenes and Mhok is less than perfect. And that’s a shame, because the show really almost had something here with these two. 

And that’s all I got. What a disappointment this show turned out to be. If you need me, I will just be over here in my little corner imagining the Night and Porjai romcom that we never got and pretending the rest of this show ended several weeks ago.

[honeypiehotchner]

Devil's Backbone (Unsub!Hotch x Fem!Reader) -- part twelve

Welp. Once again I have nothing to say for myself. I find this way hotter than it should be. Nobody @ me idk what happened to me

Warnings: 18+ duh, this one definitely teeters more on the non-con/dubcon line than the last, just a heads up! listen there's...so much. gun play, knife play, face fucking, choking, unprotected sex, reminder that he is not a Good Guy and this is meant to make you hot and bothered (emphasis on bothered)

Don't forget to follow @honeypiehotchnerlibrary and turn on post notifications to be "tagged" when a new chapter goes up!

Twelve: [REDACTED FROM THE RECORD]

Your mind fought your body as Aaron pressed into you, grinding against you, listening to you whimper. 

The cold barrel of his gun traced your jaw. It made the unbearable heat flood your entire body, and you felt ashamed. This was wrong. This wasn’t supposed to feel good.

“I think you’re just as gone as I am,” he whispered, his voice thick. “I could shoot you. Right here, right now. Instead,” he paused, pressing the barrel to your lips, “you’re squirming underneath me like a whore.”

“I hate you,” you snapped, taking a deep breath, trying to compose yourself.

“No you don’t,” he cooed, taking his gun away to cover your lips in a blistering kiss. He ignored your protests and worked his tongue between your lips until you surrendered, relaxing against his body, giving in. “There she is,” he laughs, returning to your neck. “Undo my belt,” he said. He lifted his head, looking into your eyes. “Try anything, and I’m pulling the trigger.”

You believed him. You nodded, your eyes heavy. 

“Good girl,” he murmured, pulling some of his weight off of you. “Go on.”

With your arms released, you worked him out of his belt, unzipping his pants, slipping your hand inside. He fell against the car the moment your hand wrapped around him. His hips jerked into your hand, his lips pressing against yours again.

His sounds were addicting. Listening to him fuck into your hand, his shaky breaths on your lips. You felt in control, just once. Until he took it back.

“Down,” he groaned, his hands pressing onto your shoulders. You resisted, shaking your head, until he pressed harder, and with the gun. “I said down.”

You sank to your knees, knowing what came next. He pulled his boxers down, and gripped your hair with one hand, shoving you forward.

He hit the back of your throat immediately and you gagged, not prepared for the intrusion. You barely had half of him, and he forced more, until your nose was against his stomach. You squirmed, trying to get away from him, from the pleasure that you hated you were feeling. He noticed. He gripped your hair tighter, and shoved his foot between your legs.

“Since you clearly need something,” he laughed darkly. “Grind on me, baby.”

He lifted his foot and the bump against your clit was all you needed. Your pleasure won over your logic. Nothing felt more right, grinding against him, swallowing his cock down your throat, letting him hold you down. 

“That’s it,” he hissed, pulling back to give you air before you went back down, and he held you there. He gripped your throat with his free hand, feeling his head beneath your skin. “Fuck.”

You felt him twitch only once before he spilled down your throat, refusing to let you up. You coughed and choked, your vision speckling right when he pulled you up. He hauled you up to your feet by your hair, pressing you against the car, covering your lips with his. He ground his hips into you and you sobbed. How was he still so hard? It made your core ache with a need you had never felt before. 

You were close to an orgasm, and he ripped it away from you, but now he was bringing you back to the edge. He gripped your hips, pressing his knee between your thighs as he lifted you up. 

“I have never,” he groaned, leaving bruises beneath your pants, “wanted to cut someone open as badly as I do with you.”

Fear ricocheted through you at his words.

“But I won’t,” he grumbled, pulling back to look at you. “Because what fun is it, to end it here?”

He set you down and spun you around, pulling your pants and underwear down in one swift move. You leaned over onto the hood of the car, accepting your fate, accepting your shame because you wanted it. You wanted this so bad, you spread your legs without being asked.

He traced your spine with the gun, then you heard him toss it to the ground. If you weren’t out of your mind, you’d reach for it, but it was far from your priorities. 

“I know how we can make this interesting,” he whispered, and then you felt a blade against your lower back. “Don’t make me hurt you, and I won’t. This can be pleasurable.”

You rested your head on the hood of the car, taking a deep breath, whimpering when you exhaled without meaning to. 

“Shhh,” he soothed, rocking his hips against you as he drew circles on your back with the knife. “I’ll give you what you need.”

He pushed into you with no warning, immediately hitting your cervix, causing you to cry out in pain. He began rocking in and out of you until the pain resumed to pleasure, and as he brushed your G-spot, he dug in with the knife. You felt the skin break, but felt no pain, only a sting, and it was intoxicating. You wanted more.

He felt your walls flutter when he did it, and he laughed, leaning over you to whisper in your ear. “I knew you’d like that.” The knife found your neck, lightly tracing your main artery. “Sick and twisted. Just as bad as me.”

Your eyes rolled when he rolled his hips, nicking you with the knife just under your ear. Nothing compared to the white hot pleasure that ripped through you with your first orgasm, or the way he chased you right to your second.

“Now that is addicting,” he breathed, pressing his hips into you. “If only you weren’t following orders.”

You didn’t know what he meant by that. Did he want to kill you, but would he refrain since your whereabouts were known? You never had time to think about it. He continued fucking into you until you couldn’t see straight.

You didn’t remember how many marks he left on you with the knife, just that each one felt better than the last. And that more than once, the feel of the knife nearly sent you over the cliff of an orgasm.

You were done only when he was done, and Aaron made sure you had four orgasms before he let himself cum inside you, sending you flying into a fifth climax. He wanted you fucked purely dumb, so he didn’t have to worry about you fighting him. And it worked.

He righted himself and returned his gun to his holster, choosing to use yours to make you obey him if necessary, but he didn’t think he’d run into any problems. You laid there against the hood of the car for a while, with your pants around your ankles, his cum running down your thighs. It was a sight he wished to take a picture of.

Until he remembered he had a bigger issue at hand.

“Get yourself together,” he instructed. “You’re driving me back to the motel.”

You nodded and pulled your pants up, your legs shaking as you attempted to move. You didn’t think you’d be able to drive, but you didn’t exactly have a choice in the matter.

You climbed into the driver’s seat and tried not to think about what you did. But the cuts from the knife screamed when you rested your back against the seat. A black shirt was your best decision this morning. “Now,” Aaron said, settling into the passenger seat, now pointing your gun on you. “We need to talk.”

[kneelingshadowsalome]

I promised, promised myself that I wouldn’t read the Roman König x Fee fic until it was completed because I knew i would get absolutely drawn in, wrapped up in your exquisite prose, then get addicted and suffer from withdrawals. Unneeded to say I broke said promise and welp here I am 🤡

Thing that surprised me was how quickly he endeared himself to me? A cock swinging village massacring brute that I was FULLY prepared to hate had me sighing by then end of chapter 3 with the “you care about my head?” ✋😩 YES I worry for your stupid head you adorable monster.

It’s uncanny how similarly Fee and I felt as the plot progressed. I know this is a self insert and though I made an OC for fee, you were able to capture the feeling of hate to curiousity to distrust to budding emotions on the readers side so beautifully and in only three chapters?? What sorcery is this?? I could go on and on about how I’m just… in awe of your writing skills.

It’s the small things too. The effort he went through to understand Fee, learning her language like he desperately wants to be a part of her. It’s just his delight in the simple things like having a woman and buying her pretty things. I AM GOING TO GNAW OFF MY ARM THIS IS SO GOOD!! I don’t know if you’ve watched HBOs Rome, but they remind me of Pullo and Eirene so much! Like you can’t tell me König doesn’t fit that goofy brawdy soldier who’s only hobbies are drinking and fucking and fighting to a T!

Then it got me thinking…. If König is Pullo then Simon is Vorenus. He has that straight laced, no bs aura about him. Now I’m imagining them both in this universe and please excuse me while I melt in a puddle 🫠

This is perhaps the best piece of fiction I’ve read in a while. I can’t wait for part 4, I have no doubt it will be wonderful as usual. Please accept my maladaptive daydream interpretation of Fee (first she was supposed to be a wood nymph, then the earth goddess then a fairy queen?? I’m not sure anymore. There was so much great imagery couldn’t settle on one. Your honor, we lost the plot.)

Oh my goodness OH MY GOODNESS ❤️❤️❤️

You shower me with praise and I’m over here like aaahh... for me? 🥺❤️

And yes I’ve watched Rome like four times at least! Every time I watch it just gets better, the producers and crew really outdid themselves with all the details in that series. I consider it one of the best TV shows ever made and excuse me but you opened a Pandora’s box here, I'm just so pleased you brought this up...

It took so much time for Pullo to grow on me, I was so frustrated with his character but when he killed Eirene’s man because he was so in love with her and was just like: “Oh there's something in the way of our love? Oh well. *there*, solved.” Gosh I was IN LOVE. I’m sorry, I’m a horrible person, but I fell in love with Pullo right that second. And yeah König is kinda like Pullo in that sense! Eirene wails at the corpse of her ex-lover and Pullo is just like “Um, yeah nasty business but… why are you crying? Oh, oh yeah, oops. But hey, we could be together? Oh, you don’t want me? Damn. How come?” I wanted to shake and kiss him for being so dumb and adorable.

And Ghost is Vorenus YES, you get it 100 %! And the tragic love story of Vorenus & Niobe, oh god, took me about a month to get over it. And Vorenus being under the protection of Mars first and then literally becoming Pluto, the Lord of the Underworld… The mythology nerd in me is swooning over here. The only thing about Vorenus that's slightly König coded to me was when Pullo had to explain to him what a clitoris is, and Vorenus is like “How do you know this about my wife?!?!” and almost kills him :D That’s so so Roman!König.

But AHHH let me squeal about your maladaptive daydream adaption next: she’s the most gorgeous Fee ever, so lovely and feminine and yet, strong and possessing that earthly power in her. I love the color of her dress too!! There’s a lot of earth & water elements linked to Fee so that color (green to turquoise?) is the most perfect combination of earth and sea, while König is more like fire & air, coming from the mountains and slow to anger but when the fire rises, no one is safe...

This was so lovely, thank you so much! I hope you enjoy the rest of the story 🩷💋

[alfgifu]

analysing my own fic: the navel, the gaze, and the wanging on about it

So.

I used to be fairly active online in fandom-adjacent spaces but almost entirely as a lurker. I was still following various tumblr accounts through a feed-reader, but had otherwise kind of switched off for a decade or two. I spent more time online in other places, discussing religion and politics mostly, and hadn’t really done much for myself or for fun.

I kept writing, both at work and in my spare time. I got better at explaining things concisely and persuasively. I spent hours over drafts of novels that I knew were shit, partly because I wanted to improve but partly because [black hole of self-sabotage due to stress of undiagnosed autism].

In the autumn of 2022 I was doing what I imagine a lot of us did that year - getting my head around life adjustments after the acute phase of the pandemic. The trauma, the impact on my spouse and kids, the impact on my job. Jobs, I should say, because I had whirled through a lot of them in the previous couple of years and ended up somewhere I couldn’t have predicted and wouldn’t necessarily have wanted to land.

It was by chance that I found and enjoyed Victoria Goddard’s writing that year, when I was unsettled and reaching around for things to try. There was a link to a fan-run discord community in the afterword of At the Feet of the Sun and I was curious enough to check it out. I had been disengaging from social media for a while - algorithmic feeds drive me up the wall - but there seemed no harm in finding a new place to lurk.

I hadn’t realised that new arrivals are actively welcomed in discord servers. I also hadn’t realised how easy it is to join a voice channel by accident while you’re trying to figure yourself out. Two interactions with friendly people - enough to lower the internal friction to posting something else. And something else after that.

And I had been thinking, hadn’t I, that I might want to write some fanfiction? Twenty years of reading and not writing… It was surely my turn. It would be good practice, a chance to test myself on sharing fiction in public.

Perhaps, I thought, one or two people will read it. Perhaps I’ll get some feedback.

Welp.

I hadn’t allowed for how welcoming and supportive the community would be. I hadn’t realised how hungry a tiny fandom is for new content. I hadn’t known how addictive any kind of validation about my writing would prove.

Anyway my fingers slipped and

So that happened.

In November it’ll be two years since I joined the fandom; in December, two years since I first posted a fic chapter to AO3. It seems like a good time to take stock.

My writing pace has dropped like a brick in the past six months due to other life stressors, which has kiboshed both fanfic and the ambition to finish another original novel this year (and with it the hope to maybe, this time, writing something less shit and more shareable).

This month I’ve mostly been drawing Inktober doodles instead of writing. I hope to recover a bit that way. The other life events continue but unlike earlier this year the stresses seem likely to end in a good place - eventually! - and when things are less full-on I have to believe that the urge and capacity to write fiction will recover.

For now, having blown the dust off this tumblr, I’m going to do some processing by taking a look here at the various things I’ve written and contributed to over the past two years. I’m planning to reflect on how and why they came about, on what worked and what didn’t, and on what I learned from writing them.

[tribade-veneration]

I’m that anon from the wwtichscum blog (I know it’s late because i only came across her very aggressive and empty response just now)

To answer your “where’s this lesbian utopia do you live in?” question, welp the question is the answer itself

I don’t live in an lesbian utopia and I don’t have to live in one to be… actually lesbian

My family *is* religious and extremely conservative, but even then they can’t change me so can you blame me for thinking a bihet woman who gets gangbanged on the daily then suddenly decides she’s a lesbian is not… in fact a lesbian? Is it that wrong to believe actual lesbians exist?

I can't prove you're the same anon, and I don't fully believe you are, but I'll act as if it's the case.

Firstly, speak about women in a less sexualized way than "gangbanged on the daily". Your brain is porn-rotten. That's gross and very embarrassing for you. It makes me not even want to continue answering this because what's the point if you're probably not even going to listen because you're dealing with internalized misogyny that makes you think women always enjoy the sex they seek out? But I'm going to try anyway.

When lesbians talk about lesbians who have sex with men before (or even after) realizing that they're lesbians... We aren't referring to women who are happily, enthusiastically having sex they enjoy with men they're attracted to, getting bored of it and saying "Well that shit's boring now, I'm a lesbian". Obviously that's not a lesbian. If you'd taken the time to recover your brain from all the horrible shit you've been taught by your conservative family before saying horrible shit yourself, you might be aware that women enthusiastically enjoying all the sex they have - even if deliberately sought out - is a patriarchal myth. Even straight women routinely force themselves through shitty sex. It's kind of a major part of rape culture.

Women are raised, from infancy, to believe that we are objects of service. I'm sure you know that, growing up in a conservative family. This extends to sexual service.

That mixed with heteronormativity can make it hard for women to even know they're lesbians. We grow up surrounded by women who force themselves through bad sex with gross men. We grow up surrounded by women who hate their husbands, who nervously laugh and fail to give a clear answer when asked what they find attractive about men. We grow up with mothers who say, when the father isn't around, that men are stupid and disgusting. And sure, there's also plenty of women who are very happy to say exactly what they find hot in a guy, but if those women who are just forcing themselves through it are straight, then as a young lesbian it's easy to not realize that *your* disgust towards men is different.

Some of us grow up raped, a lot, on a regular basis, starting as a baby, which can definitely impact perception of sexual orientation. Some of us go through corrective rape. Some of us are explicitly told while being assaulted by men that we need to learn to like men. I'm one of those lesbians. While I never ended up having sex with men by my own volition, I did think I was bisexual for a long time because of my experiences, and once or twice sought out sex from male friends (which they declined, thankfully). I sought this out as a form of self harm. I *thought* I was attracted to them but no, I was not. I was just confused about what attraction even was. And I wanted to experience the suffering I associated with sex with men and with watching porn, which I did a lot of at the time, because as any self harmer knows, pain can be very addictive.

Had those male friends of mine said yes, I'd be branded a fake lesbian by the likes of you... For retraumatizing myself? For not understanding what attraction even is and mistakening a response of arousal from thinking of rape (which is exceedingly common in rape victims) as being attraction to men? Seems pretty ridiculous to me.

Enough of me, however. I like lists. Here's a list of reasons a lesbian might seek out sex with men. Some of these apply to me (I don't seek out sex with men but the feelings of wanting to do so sometimes remain), some don't.

- She doesn't know she's a lesbian yet and thinks it's normal to push yourself through unwanted sex with men (because it is, sadly, the norm).

- She's been through conversion therapy, corrective rape, etc. and is training herself to tolerate men as part of her conversion efforts.

- She lives in a culture where arranged marriage is common and, knowing she's likely going to be married off to a man soon, seeks out sex to train herself to tolerate it.

- She is prostituted and seeks out "normal" sexual experiences because she's upset by always having a price tag.

- She knows she hates it, she knows she's a lesbian, and she is specifically seeking out to be put through sex she hates as a severe form of self harm.

- She is aroused by rape due to sexual trauma and confuses that for sexual attraction.

- She knows she's a lesbian but is trying to learn to tolerate rape/sex she despises because she feels it's an inevitability she'll be raped again and hopes she can get used to it.

- She depends on the men she's having sex with; anything from small stuff such as occasional gifts consisting of things she can't afford, to relying on those men for food, housing, and transportation.

- She doesn't know homosexuality is a thing and thinks *every* woman is attracted to women and finds men unappealing, but certainly some day that that biological urge to reproduce will kick in, and she's just a late bloomer.

There's obviously more but these are a few examples.

Maybe you haven't dealt with any of this. But you're not every lesbian, are you?

Every lesbian has a different life. The only thing that makes a lesbian is sexual attraction to only other women. Actions - including sex with men - have nothing to do with it, or wouldn't that imply conversion therapy works?

I hope your brain gets well soon.

[izacore]

Will you do a reading on all of this when you have time? Maybe also on how HL are doing? I’m so fascinated by your readings!

I did a few readings for my friends yesterday!

Harry's feelings about the stunt with the child bride:

eight of pentacles reversed - lack of quality, rushed job, bad reputation, lack of motivation, mediocrity, laziness, low skill, dead-end job, careless about finances, overspending, you need to execute swiftly and with great care if you want to be happy and successful with this outcome, importance of impressing your employer through your diligence, dedication and intelligence

the devil - oppression, addiction, obsession, dependency, excess, powerlessness, limitations, feelings of entrapment, emptiness and lack of fulfillment in your life, feeling trapped in job, blaming colleagues, self-sabotage, lust, hedonism, selfish disregard for lover’s feelings, obsession

judgement - self-evaluation, awakening, renewal, purpose, reflection, reckoning.

The Judgement card reminds us that we all will be faced with choices that will have an astounding effect for your entire life. The card brings to mind moments where actions you have taken have changed the course of your path for good. There may have been a moment where there is no looking back. The consequences of those actions eventually will catch up to you, and this card seems to indicate that this is the time. You may have to let go of the past, so you can move forward with your plans to have a new life.

back of the deck: page of cups reversed - emotional vulnerability, immaturity, neglecting inner child, escapism, insecurity, a shy, vulnerable partner, emotionally immature partner, insecurity in romance, troubled person, afraid of reality whether it’s emotional, financial, illness or something else. They find these issues difficult to face, perhaps leading to abuse of alcohol or drugs to escape. It could be an image of you or a loved one who is struggling with self-acceptance.

Welp, I think it's pretty explanatory that he seems "thrilled" about it and spiraling as always (the devil card). We have always known he had those tendencies 🥴 It looks like he just hates it and considers it a poor decision. And if the rumors about him soundchecking Woman are true and he will bring it back now I will take it as a confirmation for this reading. Which also, you know, poses a question, what is the point but alas

•••••

Louis' feelings:

ten of swords reversed - survival, improvement, healing, lessons learned, despair, relapse, healing from past, putting relationship back together, changed jobs, found less stressful work, no way to avoid this tragedy - it has happened over a long course of events that have been a long time coming. recognition that you have hit rock bottom, an opportunity being presented here to correct what has hurt you, but you must make the effort to climb out yourself. What has happened was terrible, but everyone has a part in the responsibility.

wheel of fortune - change, cycles, fate, decisive moments, luck, fortune, unexpected events, relationship changes, navigating change with partner, making adjustments, luck in career, opportunities present, adapting to changes at work

two of pentacles - balancing resources, adaptation, resourcefulness, flexibility, stretching resources, inability to provide the energy and time required to make your partner happy. Your partnership should be your main priority, but with all the madness in other areas of your life, you are finding it hard to devote your attention to your loved ones.

back of the deck: ten of pentacles - legacy, roots, family, ancestry, inheritance, windfall, foundations, privilege, affluence, stability, tradition, creating lasting career, stable future

In this case, I feel like I am able to interpret it in two ways, depending on some variables.

1. He could have realized what a fucking poor choice it was, come to terms with the fact that he hit a rock bottom with it and will now try to look for ways to improve his situation without continuing the stunt.

2. If the stunt is to continue, he lost his fucking mind and must be delusional or something 🤣🤣🤣 He truly thinks that this will bring him success and fortune and legacy (or that it's a step towards that legacy), even if in the back of his mind he may be aware that it's really embarrassing. He also seems to be stressed about juggling seeing Harry in the middle of it all (two of pentacles) and spirits are trying to advise him to pay more attention to him - which would confirm Harry spiraling again lmao. But like I said, in some twisted way he thinks it's necessary.

•••••

Now is the actual fun part tho, that made me want to fight my cards agshsj bro I'm so fucking confused.

I asked about the general results of this stunt, 4 cards fell out:

five of pentacles reversed - positive changes, recovery from loss, overcoming adversity, forgiveness, feeling welcomed, improved love life, opening yourself to others, friendship at work, end of work hardships, brightness coming into your life, light at the end of the tunnel. The reversed Five of Pentacles means change is coming.

nine of cups - wishes coming true, contentment, satisfaction, success, achievements, recognition, pleasure, appreciating current love life, positivity leading to romance, cheerful romance, satisfying career, recognition and respect at work, avoid being overconfident, a good change that something wonderful will happen in your workplace. It is time for you to push on your stalled project or if you have a something that you desire greatly, there is a possibility that you will finally achieve it. It also holds a positive meaning when it comes to love. Your romantic relationship with someone is destined to reach a new level.

ace of cups reversed - coldness, emptiness, emotional loss, blocked creativity, feeling unloved, gloominess, you have been enduring emotional instability or pain for some time.

four of cups - apathy, contemplation, feeling disconnected, melancholy, boredom, indifference, discontent, feeling discouraged and unmotivated, You may feel as if there is no solution or way forward in your situation. Life has become stagnant, and nothing seems to make you happy or passionate. You are feeling apathetic - regardless of what happens, whether the day is good or bad, none of it matters to you.

back of the deck: queen of cups - compassion, warmth, kindness, intuition, healer, counsellor, supportive. You may be the emotionally strong rock that serves as an anchor for someone else. The Queen of Cups normally thinks with her heart, instead of her mind. She can lack rationality and common sense, but she can also be intuitive, dreamy and almost psychic at times. The Queen of Cups could be the answer to your problems when a logical approach is not working.

This outcome actually made me so angry because 1. How can this stunt bring good results. 2. It confirms readings my friends did and got the same positive answer agshdj.

If I were to guess, and interpret it the way I'm feeling it, is that the mess it created could actually serve as a wake up call of some sorts for them and will get them to think with their hearts instead of trying to follow the option they were made to believe is the most logical? That they'll realize they're miserable being stuck in those patterns and life simply cannot go on like this? This is just the vibe I'm getting. I'm not sure if I trust it tho as the circus really put me in a very pessimistic mood, but we'll see. Of course, this only works if we assume that they'd want the things we do for them. If they're okay with their situations now, it will strengthen them too and they'll achieve what they wanted with it but in the end they won't feel happy about that.

Anyway I think it's interesting nonetheless and I'm gonna also wait and see what my friends will get in their readings to compare. I'm tired and confused and simply don't know anymore.

[nytb]

You know I used to believe it’s easy to not be addicted to some things, welp that’s a lie. I honestly don’t remember when I started getting addicted to reading your works, I think it was around a year ago. I wasn’t even a WoSo Fan but honest to god when i stumbled upon one of your works, I easily got hooked. I remember reading every single one of them on one night, and honestly i wasn’t that knowledgeable about tumblr even when I had it on my phone for a long time so i didn’t know what masterlist was, so I really had to scroll a long time till I reached the bottom of your page and read from there😂 but anyways the thing is, I fkin love you and all your works, so please continue on with your amazing work. I kinda blame you for this addiction but honestly I’m not complaining, you introduced me to WoSo and football world im gonna be honest with you, I didn’t even know a single thing about football a year ago but you changed that, you don’t even know how much you changed my world. Thanks a lot. Love you lots!❤️🫶🏼🥰

Hope you continue to have an amazing night or morning or afternoon wherever you are around the world, thank you for being an amazing person <3

I had a tiny little rant about how cute and lovely this was cuz DAMN i want to hug u right now❤️

also pls tell me that u are a culé. like yes i love that u got into football after reading my stuff but also - if i did make you a culé it would be even sweater for me cuz WOW the power that writing has😳

hopefully i made it easier to browse my page cuz back then - i was a noob in many aspects😂 but again, this was so fucking cute of a message🫶

love u, have some forehead kisses😚😚 and u are welcome to my inbox/messages anytime

and have a great day/afternoon/night, fuck make that week, month.. a year actually🫶❤️

[hearsayhorizons]

Thinktober 2024 2: Tree

There are no guarantees where the House’s doors are concerned, but dryads hold many of the keys. Perhaps they make the safest stewards because they are barred from entry (and therefore addiction or obsession) by their very natures: they will survive within the House, but a tree whose dryad leaves it behind does not survive. And then, after she leaves or is kicked from the house, welp.

The player characters are all looking for the House, for whatever their own purposes might be. That’s a basic premise of the campaign: they know I want to give them a base. They know they need to work for it.

The doors aren’t purposefully difficult to find, but it’s a big multiverse out there—and there are other creatures at play; this includes a dark lord who fears that the few souled individuals left in Barovia may use the doors as escapes. Who might be employing people to create “threshounds” (a modified displacer beast template) solely meant to destroy these doors, wherever they might be.

Including by tearing a dryad and her tree to pieces. True Peace (following a convention I have mentioned previously for fae or dryads) cries out for help; the elf ranger, gnome bard, and fairy rogue are close enough (or connected to fae enough) to hear or feel the pain. They either go to help or get attacked by threshounds themselves, depending on their reaction time. The threshounds have already trashed the tree; branches that hung heavy with fruit and promise are now crashed and wrecked. The sickly-sweet smell of burst fruit hangs heavily in the air.

These early versions of threshounds are... psionic impressions. Which means they are difficult to damage—maybe blurry, or flickery?--but also that they can’t report back to Strahd or their creator about any foes or locations. The original threshounds are one-use... items, that don’t survive a teleport or trip between dimensions. Telephobic?

One thing I’m worried about is giving my level 4 D&D 5.0/5 characters an enemy they have trouble beating. But I like the idea of the dryad’s dimension door or the core of the tree being a trap, of the elf’s misty step functioning as damage to the thing if done nearby. I can always intervene or reward some quick thinking; the elf ranger’s player is our usual DM and he is wicked fast on his feet.

The players assist True Peace. She is perhaps dying, or severely weakened. She never had a key to the House, but an ally might—regardless, she asks a favor of them in exchange for a small boon. (that might be the ability to detect doors better via having some of the fruit?). Go to her friend who is a full day’s travel away. Give them some pollen to deliver—there's a LDR between dryads and the characters are assisting in dryad survival. Gonna have to work to make that not creepy because I have issues with improv.

Stuff may happen on the march; probably not more threshounds, but maybe natural creatures stirred up, blink dogs gone berserk, actual displacer beasts? Dunno, gotta see what happens.

The ally is another dryad, a weeping willow who is as much a water nymph as a treeple. She is withered and not doing well; the waters of her river run black with ash and have for some time. Ordinarily her river would be a gate to a town, but not like this. I don’t want just fetch quests and travel so that might be tweaked. She knows for a fact that an ancient dryad named Haven who lives in harmony with the town that lies upriver has a key to the House.

Players get to the town, and it is just an ash pile. Like that scene in Mulan as they crest the hill. Nothing moves, nothing breathes—until, as they investigate, ash zombies begin to claw their way free of the earth. Horses, men, dogs, things that look like centaurs but are really just the skeletons of men adhered to their horses.

The dryad goes by Ruination now. Her betrayal by the townsfolk (probably over the door to the House) led to a war that decimated everything. There is a door to the House at the center of her grove even now, but it’s a boss fight to get there.

There is an alternative to murdering her, and there’s probably more methods I have not thought of, but—the House is a place of rest and healing. Ordinarily you HAVE to leave after three days, but those employed by the House are exempt for the span of their stay. Going through the door kills her tree, of course, but Rue’s tree had pretty much already died and that might have been a huge amount of her pain. That might be an interesting way to lay out stuff for the characters, having them run into Rue during their first three days.

I feel like there’s some poetry if the players discover that, in the fires of the war between dryad and town, some of the seeds have opened. Hmm.

[olivereactsaboutgarbage]

Higurashi When They Cry - Watanagashi Chapter 8

Time for the first of my four remaining daily posts this year!

When last we left our heroes, I think Toddler 01 was dead or something. I’m not sure because I’ve been in an eldritch coma for the last 7 and a half months.

Right now, Keiichi’s mom is telling him that he probably couldn’t sleep because he was excited. Actually, Keiichi’s big secret is that he was scared instead.

He’s high, Rena.

Mion is Missing! Wow, I was so right to put off reading this chapter for over half a year. What’s the point, if Mion is Missing!? Keiichi agrees, so he wants to will Mion into not being Missing! This actually works. Wow, Keiichi is actually the best character. If Higurashi didn’t have Mion in it, there’d be no point, so there’d be no point if Keiichi wasn’t in it.

Rena feels Mion’s forehead and Mion accuses Rena of having Cold Hands Disease. So true, Mion.

“14-year-olds are older than 13-year-olds, so 14-year-olds aren’t stupid” is such 13-year-old logic. Or however old these little fuckers are. It’s not like I’ve been keeping track.

Anyway, Keiichi gets assaulted and blames Toddler 01, but Toddler 01 reminds him that she couldn’t have done it because she died last chapter. So he blames his teacher instead. The one with pronouns. She says that he needs a beautiful face to match her beautiful pronouns.

Wow, Mion is just like L from Death Note. I think. I haven’t watched it.

That’s awesome! I love bits! I didn’t know Mion was a comedian.

She demonstrates her bit, which is just pantomiming alcoholism. Don’t quit your day job, Mion.

She also asks Keiichi whether or not the events of Chapter 7 occurred, and gets mad when he gets cagey. To be frank, I would be cagey too, since that was 7  and a half months ago. I’m on Keiichi’s side here, better not to make definitive statements about something you might not remember that well.

Um, no, Keiichi, your neck’s just hot. Lay off the illicit substances.

Even Rena could tell you’d done drugs.

Wait, has Toddler 02 always worn suspenders? Am I being Affected by Mandela?

Rena racks up some more Rena Points by belittling Toddler 01′s corpse. She also racks up some Detective Points by saying Mion and Keiichi clearly have the same disease. That’s right, Rena...! Call Keiichi out before he becomes a drug addict!

Keiichi is almost about to have a library scene, but then he abruptly has a telephone scene instead. Shion ensues.

god keiichi have a modicum of tact mayhaps

Anyway, it turns out that Shion and Mion aren’t even roommates.

foreshadowing for umineko

Keiichi is abruptly having a library scene instead of a telephone scene. Shion is ensuing.

Aww Keiichi don’t be that way, Shion is being Based for once in her miserable life.

The Successor

See, I knew Mion was incredibly special and great.

Also, it turns out the Sonozakis are the entirety of capitalism.

OOISHI JUMPSCARE

What? I thought Shion and Ooishi were bitter rivals... was that all in my head? Am I secretly too Keiichicore for my own good?

Shion unsues. That’s the opposite of ensuing.

Ooishi says that the Sonozakis are “yakuza, and also something else, wink wink, welp anyways goodbye”. Thanks Ooishi.

Keiichi decides to defend Mion’s honor. He really is the best character.

Even Ooishi knows Keiichi is going down a dark path of substance abuse...!

Keiichi is the only one who doesn’t know about it. How embarrassing for Keiichi. I wonder if there’s an even darker secret hidden behind this dark plot point.

OH MY GOD!!! Ooishi is a mecha being piloted by Mion! And Keiichi is trapped in a time loop!

OH GOD!!! He’s too huge! He’s going to bite Keiichi 87 times! And here I thought Mion would know better.

Keiichi is Based for this one. Just like Shion just now.

In fact, Shion probably wasn’t even in the room with us earlier.”

SILK HAT! CLOAK! WHITE ROSES!

Keiichi goes deaf and doesn’t notice it’s time for Ooishi to leave. “Oh, and one more thing,” Ooishi says. “I saw you do it.” Mion must have been watching Columbo. I guess that’s where she learned how to act like L from Death Note. I think. I haven’t watched Columbo either.

coup collab symbolism

I mean, um, sorry. Ignore the fact that I said something which doesn’t make any sense just now.

Ah, there’s a double-meaning here. Keiichi is going to spend this entire arc thinking Keiichi is the culprit! So quick Keiichi is to forget the entire scene earlier in this arc dedicated to how Keiichi isn’t the culprit.

Keiichi “uhhhhh mayyyybeeeee i mean uhhhhh who’s to say for sure y’know”

“It’s bad to ask questions. That’s why I’m going to ask a question.”

Shion finally reminds everyone that Camera and his girlfriend are the People Who Die In Higurashi. But wait, this time one of them was on fire and neither of them had vanished? Epic fail. They died all wrong this time. Shabby work hiding Camera’s girlfriend’s burned body, Culprit. You did better last time.

Oh, she also barely counted as wearing clothing. Well, that’s nice I guess.

Shion thinks this is actually a double feature where she and Keiichi will both be the ones who disappear. But if Keiichi just got cursed normally, who would be the bizarre outlier to make this year even more murderous than normal? I guess Toddler 01 could do it since she’s a zombie this time around.

Also, Hinamizawa has an anti-journalism field. How convenient for fiction writers. It’s like Blake Snyder said in Save the Cat! (I became cultured over the break period): “All stories, no matter what they’re about, should include an anti-journalism field. However, if they also include something else supernatural, that would be Double Mumbo Jumbo and bad writing, so Oyashiro’s curse needs to be a hoax.” Simply by the existence of a tragically doomed cat, this level of reasoning is possible for Olivia von Flamiel.

Anyways Keiichi blows up at Shion so she hangs up on him

don’t worry man it wasn’t as bad as last time

Keiichi gets a call from someone who’s not voice acted. Ah, so this is the Schrodinger’s Important Phone Call I forgot to mention his parents were waiting for: They were going to get a call from the living embodiment of sex. The embodiment of sex owns an old man, also. Kinky. Unless it’s Santa.

Meanwhile, in Side Story Land...

Oh, the embodiment of sex was actually also the embodiment of mayorhood. This is just like that collab I mentioned earlier and told everyone to forget about.

Oh, the embodiment of sex didn’t even embody sex at all. He was just pretending. He also didn’t embody mayorhood.

Also, the Mayor is Missing! Mion is aware of this. If Shion was aware of this, maybe Shion would have realized that Keiichi wasn’t going to go missing. Only Shion will go Missing!

Hmm... is Mion enacting a clever scheme? Like L from Death Note?

Well, I guess I’ll never know because I’m never going to watch Death Note. Just like how I’m never going to read One Piece. Goodbye everyone.

[nightengale82]

#HealingMessyMommy #9

Awakening. Healing. Transformation.

These have been the reoccurring themes in my life over the last few months, and I am so grateful to have been able to get to the other side of this whole “Dark night of the soul” business. I know it will take me some time to acclimate, process, integrate… and fully step into my authentic being, into my true power: my Divine Feminine.

There is a major problem today… Within our society, within our American ideals, within this insane narrative that is being forced down our throats: and we have been so programmed and conditioned to be “inclusive” and so “woke” that no one is talking about it.

I consider myself a “Die-Hard Feminist”

Now… that’s obviously not an official term or an ideology, it’s just how I like to describe myself; because I am a free thinker, I two have daughters I would kill for and die to protect… and I’ve studied Women’s History, so I’m educated in the topic.

Wake up, people!

Whatever you people are calling Feminism today- is NOT helping us.

It’s hurting us.

People are ignorant, blind to the harm it’s causing our youth, and the next generation.

I will be the first to admit, when the LBGTQ issue became a feminist issue… I didn’t see a problem. I personally don’t have anything against a marginalized community joining our cause, and was sold the idea that LBGTQ issues- are human rights issues.

Welp. I was wrong.

That was before trans people wanted to compete and dominate in women’s collegiate sports.

Fucking mind blowing that the people “in charge” would allow this to happen.

Or that Caitlyn Jenner would be named “Woman of the Year” by fucking God Damned People Magazine.

I’m sorry, but NO. That isn’t feminism. It adds insult to injury and the media isn’t going to gaslight me into believing that trans people have the same experience, I do- as a woman. Big, fat NO.

The last thing I will say about this topic is how horrifying it is that they push it on these teenagers at the absolute most vulnerable times in their lives. Statistically, many trans people who undergo the sex change surgery are suicidal at around 5 years after their transformations. How does this fix the problem?

This is not Feminism! You’re not going to convince me it is! Has everyone lost their fucking minds?! Wayyyy off topic!!

REMINDER!! The definition of the word Feminism is:

The advocacy of women’s equal: political, social, and economic rights to men.

And so because of all this trans business: that the media wants you to believe is the new “feminism”

We can’t even talk about the real areas that need to be addressed within the women’s movement today.

It’s a distraction to keep us divided, confused, and afraid. And I for one, am not going to stand for it any longer.

Here’s the thing guys. Your new “Feminism” is destroying the nuclear families across the United States. Think about it for a moment. I won’t even bother collecting the statistics to prove my point:

THE PERSONAL IS POLITICAL

Modern day dating

Children growing up in broken homes

Little girls having no example of healthy relationships

Boys having to learn how to be men from their mothers

The rise in alcoholism and addiction

The rise in mental health crisis in both sexes

This entire society is stuck in fight or flight mode in our relationships with the opposite sex because we are acting like there’s not a problem, and we haven’t admitted our childhood trauma affects our adult relationships. And now, we are dragging our children into it, and passing down unhealthy coping mechanisms and behaviors to them.

We are in denial of what is happening… until it comes into your home, and shows up in the people you love the most. And then we all gotta act like we are fucking okay? We’re just going to ignore the elephant in the proverbial room? In 2023?

NOPE.

Absolutely the fuck not.

We’re fucking better than this. We have to start talking about it.

This is not the legacy that I will be leaving to my girls.

Welcome back y’all, to

Healing Messy Mommy

Because Healing is Messy… and today, I GET to.

Stay tuned.

#BetterNotBitter #HealingMessyMommy #Gratitude #Abundance #AscendedFeminism #SelfLove #DivineFeminine #AwakenedMasculine #DivineCounterpart #SpiritualAwakening

[daniellemmgg]

I’m boutta rant for a bit becuase I need to get things off my chest and it’s not like many people are gonna read this, so whatever

I’ve been feeling kinda set aside for a while (it’s not a new feeling, but I’m usually to busy to notice)

I try to engage with people but they always seem more interested in doing other things I don’t like that much (which is completely fine) with other people (which is also fine) 

this usually doesn’t bother me much at all, I know people are entitled to spend their time however they want, but I don’t have many friends and end up spending long periods of time on my own, which sucks when I’ve spent pretty much 9 consecutive months working with barely any chances to socialize

well, if that were all it would be nothing new, it’d still suck but it’d be a bearable amount of suckyness HOWEVER there’s something that’s really bugging me

a little backstory first. I really really like the diablo saga, diablo 2 was one of the very first games I’ve ever played and still think it’s a great game and I’ve sunk countless hours into diablo 3 (it’s got an addicting game loop, don’t judge me). I always wanted to play with friends, so I showed it to my 2 irl friends I’ve known for the longest time. One played at my house but never really got the game whilst the other did get the game and played it a while with me but dropped it by act 2

“no biggie,” I thought, “they just aren’t that into the game, that’s fine”

welp, diablo 4 released a few days ago, and for a few years now I’ve actively avoided anything blizzard because I loathe them as a company, so, despite loving the franchise, I chose to not purchase the game and vocalize my motives among my friends for my decissions

my friends however have decided this is the perfect time to get into diablo and have beens spending the last few days on call, together, playing diablo 4

hell there’s been new people coming into private discord servers seemingly just to play diablo 4

and I know I sound like a little bitch complaining about how her friends are having fun, but being attention depraved hurts and seeing people choosing to socialize over something you’ve tried to socialize with them before that you’ve left behind for ethical reasons is just rubbing salt in the wound

I’m doing so bad I’m missing toxic relationships just because at least someone kept me company

tl;dr: I’m sad people are leaving me aside to play a game from a franchise I love but choose not to play because it’s made by a shitty company

[heavensentblasphemy]

Ok. I’m freaking..maybe. Maybe this is just like the fuck it’s. I called out from work to catch up on school assignments and clean my room. I don’t know how my clean laundry got all over the floor but I look I guess gorgeous cute outfit and heels like a actual girl and it’s still not good enough. I wish I would go out into the work like this lol I’d be like one of the girls from clueless. But nobody does that anymore like you don’t play dress up and do whatever you want and have a cute ass room anymore. You’re not allowed to. That’s why I had to go to the program. Now I have a job and go to school and basically don’t even use my money to shop or anything. I think I just depressed and goodwill and school are not enough. Like school and work and designing all that was suppose to be fun ..I don’t even smoke my dope put of bad ads bongs and snap clouds anymore. I am a lame ugly boring nothing basically a drug addict now…I went to rehab and got off parole to be a drug addict. Welp. God bless 🤘

[goforth-ladymidnight]

Hi, secret santa here! I hope you are doing well! I'm busy working on your gift rn but I wanted to check in to ask how you are? Also, because I think it's good if we got to know each other better (well, me knowing you, obviously I won't uncover my secret identity) I wanted to ask what your favorite books were? Also what is your favorite thing out of everything you have written?

Hi there! I am doing well, thank you. I appreciate you checking in. 😊 And my heart did a happy dance when I read your message. ❤️ What delightful questions! 

Now, I’m going to assume you’re asking about my favorite books in addition to ACOTAR. If you’ve been poking around my blog, you’ll know Book 1 is my favorite in the series and that I prefer it as a standalone because of how different the sequel books became... but I digress.

There are some books on my shelf that are very near and dear to my heart. I often see ACOTAR cited as the book that gets many people out of a reading slump, but for me, that book was “Wildwood Dancing” by Juliet Marillier. Kinuko Y. Craft illustrated the cover of the edition I own, which is what drew my attention to that book in the first place. @/janainaart has done some illustrations for it in the years since; I adore her work. Anyway, the story is a combined retelling of The Frog Prince and The Twelve Dancing Princesses that takes place in the Transylvanian countryside. It has fairies, vampires, and an enchanted frog in a land that fears magic. I told myself I would only read a chapter or two before bed (because I had work the next morning), then whoops, I finished the book at 3 o’clock in the morning. Welp.

I’m also rather fond of Robin McKinley’s work, especially “Beauty” and “Sunshine”, though I do wish her endings didn’t feel so abrupt. Sherwood Smith’s “Crown Duel” is full of fantastic worldbuilding. I would love to see a film or miniseries adaptation of Garth Nix’s “Sabriel”; the story and the world are just *chef’s kiss*. I keep telling myself to pick up some of the more recent YA fantasies to add to my library, but I’m been more focused on writing lately. I have “Spinning Silver” and “An Enchantment of Ravens” on my TBR, though.

And speaking of writing...

I haven’t published anything yet, but I have several projects in the works. Before I got involved in the ACOTAR fandom, I was working on a novel-length retelling of “The Frog Prince” [official title still pending]. I just have to give it an ending (which is the one thing my dad asked for for Christmas, so...). I love classic fairy tale retellings, and I have my own versions of “Cinderella” and “East o’ the Sun, West o’ the Moon” in various stages of completion. One project I’m eager to put my own spin on is “The Snow Queen”. Out of everything I’ve written, though, my favorite bits happen to be the poems that I sprinkle into the stories themselves. 

In my fanfiction “A Court of Frost and Embers [ACOFAE]”, I came up with this poem that Feyre repeats several times: “If a faerie invites thee to dine, taste not its food, drink not its wine. Such is not meant for mortal men, lest ye be bound to Prythian.” Though the lore of ACOTAR doesn’t line up with traditional faerie lore (addictive food, being weakened by iron, inability to lie, etc.), it was fun to imagine that it did, at least for a little while.

My original work keeps that faerie lore intact, such as the beginning of this original spell from my version of The Frog Prince: “The Fae Folk cannot tell a lie, so magic will make truth comply...”

There’s something so satisfying about writing a poem that rhymes and has the right rhythm. *happy sigh* I could go through every one of my stories and find more examples, but I’m nervous about sharing too much of something before it’s published. One day, I’ll share this original work. But for now, my fanfiction will have to do. 🙂

So that I don’t leave you hanging, I’ll tell you that my second favorite thing to write (and read, tbh) is lush description. I have passages marked in my favorite books with descriptions of food, clothing, landscapes... I was able to indulge in this love of detail when I wrote my ACOFAE sequel last Christmas: “Together for Solstice”. In that oneshot, Feyre is noticing all of the winter solstice decorations in the Spring Court manor:

The banister was covered in plump white roses, bound with silver ribbons and accented with fresh sprigs of evergreen. She touched one of the velvety blooms, breathing in the spicy blend of roses and pine. Downstairs, some servants carried silver candelabras topped with thin white candles and garlands of pine boughs. Others carried armfuls of silver streamers and white lace. Feyre’s fingers lightly trailed along the garland of roses as she descended the stairs. For the land of eternal springtime, the effect was perfectly wintery.

It was so much fun to imagine how a place that never sees snow would make it feel Christmas-y (or at least the Prythian equivalent). Where I live now actually doesn’t get a lot of snowfall, not like where I grew up, so that may have been why I was so inspired. It definitely put me in a holiday mood. 🎅

Anyway, thanks for asking about my writing! I struggle with self-promoting (I’m afraid of coming off as annoying), so it’s easier to answer questions. Thanks again for giving me the chance to share my thoughts. 💖

P.S. I look forward to getting to know you when the time comes. 😘

[kittyisaddicted]

Stages

Somewhere this year I just gave up. No, I gave in. Gave in to the irresistible sponge that is my endorphin and serotonin seeking bubbly thing of a brain. My return to tumblr was a hell ride from start to now, and I enjoyed every bit of a sick second of it. 

Going through new and still ongoing shows with you all made me realise that my personal deal with media addiction comes in stages–just like grief, in a way. So bare with me for the 7 stages of (my) media addiction. 

Stage 1

The encounter. Gifs, scenes, little snippets from fics. The inacurate quotes kind of thing that makes me go “This might be interesting”. Going into the tags, a short google search (because tumblr search, you know, … sucks), the like. Finally googling: Where to watch …. And maybe having the luck to not need another streaming service grave for my earnings or a VPN to enjoy another mind and heart soaking piece of fiction. 

Stage 2

The beginning. Episode 1, the story unfolds. I’m chill. Watching episode 2. Seeing scenes I already know because of, you know, tumblr. All seems normal so far. Until I binge episode 3, 4 and 5 and stay up late for episode 6 and maybe get late to wor…

Stage 3

The pull. Or: the binge. If I’m lucky, there’s only one season so far. Or *only* 3 (though no one of us was lucky to have only 3 seasons of Malec Shadowhunters Malec). If there’s more, then welp, because life is now circling around watching episode after episode like earth circles the sky, no hostage taken, every spare second is dedicated to w a t c h i n g! Also, every second of the day is about thinking and every night is dreaming about it. I’m all in. 

Stage 4 

The high noon of addiction. Watching episodes alone is not enough anymore. I rewatch. I re-rewatch scenes on YouTube. I celebrate fan videos there also. My serotonin is up and running, i’m basically high all the time. I heavily search tumblr for meta, for gifs, for meta gifs. My brain and my heart are full, no space for anything else. Working is hard, living a normal life even harder. I’m constantly on my devices, consuming everything I can find, feeling both happy so many creators already did an amazing job and sad about possibly missing out something important, pure FOMO ensues. On the outside I try to seem normal, on the inside I’m craving MORE. MORE. MORE. 

Stage 5

The crawling. Now. Comes the phase where I not only unconsciously know but fully realise that there are actors behind those amazing scenes. That there where a lot of people putting a lot of work into this so it turns out as amazing at it is. And because I never get enough, I dive into their accounts, the meta about them and their relationships, the conventions, the interview snippets, the behind the scenes, the bloopers, there is. so. much. to. see. and. read!!! I am living in an alternate universe basically, borders between reality and fiction fade, the soundtrack is on heavy rotation, I quote both the show and the actors without having any mutuals in real life who know what I am talking about. 

Stage 6

The assimilation. I wake up from a fever dream. Life get’s easier again. As the whole show and cast live now rent free in my head, I can start to shift my interest from the original to the fan made bits and peaces, aka the fan fiction–canon, noncanon, doesn’t matter as long as the writing is in character and I get to know them better through the eyes of talented authors. The tags have a special place on the shelves of my well curated tumblr and ao3 lists (because you know, #The Serotonin is stored in the Ao3) and at least five of my brain cells have another content than my latest blorbo. 

Stage 7 

The retreat. My brain leaves me space for new things. I can concentrate again on other things beside them™, like, well, working, cooking, sleeping, you name it. My sweeties have a special place in my heart from now on, and I will always willingly come back to them for comfort. But right now, the urge to follow everything about them, to dedicate everything I have to them, is gone or, better, just a silent thought in the back of my head. 

[zevlors-tail]

I don't wanna scared you or something even worse *breathe deeply and with the voice whispering* What do you think having a Incubus!Villain Deku?

Do you know I wrote all of this on mobile? In my car? On a 15% battery? Welp-

TW: Incubus!Izuku, Demon!Izuku, unprotected sex, mind fuckery?, tail play?, idk what to tag this lmao, biting, oral (reader receiving), fem!reader.

It starts with dreams. Bits and pieces here and there, fragments of memories that plague you randomly throughout the day. You're doing something completely mundane and suddenly there's a flash of something you can't quite recall...mostly in shades of green and black. It only takes a few times to fully realize what your dreams are about and remember them, though, and that's when the real problem starts.

That's when you become acutely aware of the incubus that's been taking up residence in your home (and subsequently, your mind) lately. He tells you his name; Izuku, was it? But please, call him Deku, as that's his preferred demon name and the name you should use to call upon him. He corners you the first time he becomes visible, makes you feel small and submissive, but in a lighthearted way so that you think you're still in control of the situation.

You're not.

He's so much larger than you; he towers over you easily as he traces an index finger over your bare arm and gives you a look of amusement. "Did those dreams feel nice?" But he doesn't need you to answer, because he already knows they did from the way you cried out and made a mess of yourself for him in your sleep. Many a nights you had woken yourself up mid-orgasm before having to strip your sheets from your sweat-soaked bed to wash them.

You can't put your finger on it, but there's something about his velvety tone and his darkened eyes that make him so persuasive while he offers to give you something even better, something physical that you can feel even when you're awake.

"I won't hurt you," he promises, and you can't help but believe him. It's easy to lean into his touch, to let him tilt your chin up, to meet his gaze and hold it while he silently asks permission.

You make the mistake of giving it to him.

Slowly he leans in, lips parted just as yours are, but he doesn't close the distance right away. He teases, smirks down at you from above and watches as your pupils slowly dilate with lust. You don't feel the prick on your back from his tail, never notice that something other than your own blood is now pumping through your veins. And while he can't play with you until he's earned a proper invitation, he can...help speed up the process.

If you had any doubts before, the aphrodisiac coursing it's way through your bloodstream is quickly changing that. You're overtaken by need like you've never felt before, and suddenly it's not a matter worth discussing anymore; you need to have him right now. You reach for him, pull him close as you meet his lips with yours, eagerly reveling in his immediate touches and caresses that he seems to offer so freely. He smiles into the kiss deviously, knowing what's just been done is essentially all he needs to corrupt you, to make you his, to use you as he pleases.

And he does.

He wastes no time in ridding clothes, his tail crawling up one of your legs and winding round and round until it reaches cloth and pulls. In one smooth effort your pants have been ripped to shreds, and now you're stuck in place; you're not going anywhere as he curls his tail around your midriff and pulls you to the floor. He makes quick work of his own clothes and your top, and then he moves on to the main attraction of tonight: you.

As he pins you to the ground and holds you there, you finally get a proper look at him, and boy is he a sight to see. Two small horns protruding from his head, his green mop of hair a wild curly mess, and canines so sharp that you're willing to bet he could eat you with those. And god, do you want him to. Your eyes trail down to his exposed chest, and you can see that he's clearly sculpted by whatever deities may exist. His muscles ripple under his skin, abs solid but still soft to the touch when you bring a hand up to feel. Below that, there's a very pronounced V-line, and a happy trail of forest green to match his messy mop up top.

Who knew demons could have happy trails?

You go to take your hand away, unsure if it's alright to touch him so freely. But he stops you, takes your hand in his and presses it back to his warm chest, slides it up to his collarbone before bringing it back down to rest over the part of him you'd been avoiding looking at up until now.

"It's quite alright if you touch me," he tells you, and again you find yourself entranced by his words. "I'd prefer it if you did, actually. Unless, of course, you'd prefer me to be in control? You humans are so interesting," he purrs. "Just tell me what you want, and I'll make it happen. But do say it out loud, otherwise it won't be any fun!"

There's a pause in which he presses your hand lower, and your eyes widen nearly twice as wide as you feel him pulsing in your hand. Already leaking and throbbing and still somewhat soft, he's easily much thicker than anyone you've ever had. Your breath hitches as he helps you to give him a few pumps, and you're practically shaking in apprehension to be filled up.

"Or, perhaps..." he starts again, "you want me to act on your fantasies without having to be asked to do so? After all, I've been inside that pretty little head of yours. I know every single one of your naughty desires you have, Y/N... There's no point in hiding them from me."

"I want-" You try to tell him, but you just seem so lost on your own words. You don't just want one thing, or two, or even several. You want all of it. All of him, and all of his cock. You can't tear your eyes away from him; he's alluring, addictive, intoxicating...

"I want you," you manage to breathe out, and he acts on it immediately.

"You want me?" he taunts, his free hand reaching down to easily curl two fingers into your dripping cunt. "You want me to play with you, is that it?"

He's merciless, his thumb rubbing circles onto your clit before making a come-hither motion against that soft spot deep inside of you.

"Fuck!" You can't help but cry out, slick already gushing from you no thanks to the aphrodisiac. "More!" you find yourself asking. "Please, more! Need-!"

And he gives you more. He continues to finger you through your orgasm, spreads you open only to lick it all up with his tongue before curling it deep inside of you and sending you to another high. The more you give him the harder he seems to work at you, but you're too blissed out to put two and two together. He is an incubus, after all. He feeds on pleasure.

After you think you can't take it anymore, after you've been pushed over the edge and fucked stupid on his monstrous cock too many times to count, you wonder when it will end. You've been at this hours, and you should feel tired. You should be exhausted and worn out, ready to crawl in bed and pass out into a deep sleep. But despite how much you've cum, Deku still hasn't, and instead of feeling worn out, you feel as needy as ever, unsatisfied in the sense that you still want more.

"Deku," you plead with him, "please! Please, please, give- ahah! Ahhhnnngh-! Need more!"

"Oh, dearest, I'm only getting started."

Sometime after, hours into your eventful evening, Izuku finally takes mercy on your poor soul and decides enough is enough...for tonight.

"You gave me your half of the contract, so it's only fair I give you mine, isn't it?"

Somewhere in the middle of your eyes rolling back and your body convulsing under him, you wonder what he's talking about. But you can't retain the thought, and it fades away as quickly as it came. You don't have time to think about that anyway while he finally loses himself, cock throbbing against your fluttering walls as he fills you to the brim with his scorching demon seed and punctures the skin above your collarbone with his canines.

You feel absolutely delirious with pleasure, wave after wave of bliss consuming you until you're sure you're going to pass out. You squirm excessively under him, hands gripping into his hair and pulling, fingers trembling as you drink in your highs together. Somehow you feel tainted and whole at the same time, impossibly hot, completely lost in the feeling he's giving you.

And then you feel it, something searing hot burning through you, something incredibly potent and yet not tangible acting as a tether to bind the two of you together invisibly.

"You're mine. You're all mine!"

You find yourself unable to bend from his will, your body acting exactly how he wants it to and your mind giving in to his commands.

There's no going back now.

Maybe you should learn to read the fine print before signing contracts with demons so easily.