#don't fucking tell people what to do with their fucking bodies

[threeunrelateddescriptors]

One of the absolute best things someone who is hypermobile can do for themselves is strength training, particularly end-of-range & functional (e.g., bouldering) strength training.

Unfortunately for many [not all] hypermobile people, one of the hardest things to do is gain and maintain strength (safely). [I am not a doctor, I am a hypermobile+flexible person who gains/maintains strength with incredible ease, and I work in a field that has an incredibly high population of hypermobile and/or flexible people]

Why?

In very broad terms: flexibility is how much a muscle can/will stretch; mobility is how much movement a joint has. [This also means you can be hypermobile and inflexible, or it can mean you can be flexible and not have any hypermobility. That is, you can be both, one, the other, or neither. One does not equal the other.]

Nerves (I'm getting to the point) hate stretching [they prefer to gliiiide], nerves are also prone to saying "Hey, you're not allowed to do that! I'm telling!"

So for hypermobile people (who are inflexible), what often happens is Tight Muscles!

Because the joint is unstable (lazy fucking ligaments), the only stabilizer is the muscle. If the nerve feels the joint is unstable (cause those lax gorram ligaments), it will tell the muscles to protect the joint and do the job their asshole neighbors are *supposed* to be doing. Muscles...are not the best at finessing situations, so they often go overboard and just lock down.

This can look like someone being able to pop their hip out of joint, but being completely unable to touch their fingers to their toes with straight legs. Or, someone who thinks they can't possibly be hypermobile *because* they're so tight, when it's just as likely that every muscle is so over-engaged that the joints have no choice but to stay in place (and the muscles don't stretch because they are too busy being over-engaged all the time).

Doing (safe and gentle for your body) strength training starts giving those muscles some finesse and it lets the nerves know that "Yeah, the muscles got this, they can handle the job" Which in turn calms the nerves and stops them from screaming that the muscles have to over-engage to keep everyone safe.

The more end-of-range strength training you do, the greater ~*safe*~ ~*healthy*~ mobility you'll have.

Keeping in mind that all bodies are different so one person's strength training is another person's hospital visit.

Some really general examples of the mobility/flexibility thing:

Example of someone who is flexible but NOT hypermobile: they can can sit on the floor upright with their legs in front of them (|__) and their legs are straight with their heels on the floor no matter how hard they straighten their legs and can lean forward and likely touch/grab their own toes

Example of someone who is hypermobile and inflexible: they can't sit upright at a 90deg angle to their legs if their legs are straight in front of them but their knees can go a bit backwards, so if they sit on the floor a bit leaned back and straighten their legs, their heels rise off the floor

Example of someone who is hypermobile and flexible: they can sit upright with their legs straight out in front of them, and "straighten" their legs such that their heels rise off the floor and lean forward and touch/grab their own toes

hey did you know??? that if you stop stretching and maintaining mobility in your body then it goes away?? things get tight and you can't move the way that you used to??? and when you decide to try getting a stretch routine going that the first week fucking sucks because you keep going 'damn i used to be able to do this no problem' and then you have to switch gears and be kind to yourself and just focus on getting better from here instead of berating yourself for dropping the good habits in the first place??? and your body never stops aging so you gotta keep taking care of it and sometimes you gotta take care of it extra in certain areas because of things that happened when you were younger and it's boring and sometimes hurts but it's so necessary???

i am yelling this at myself right now i am going through An Experience (trying to get into a routine of body maintenance again for my physical and mental health)

[suiana]

you're a fairy, they're a human

thats something no amount of potion is ever going to change

how many times has he heard that already? give up, look for someone else, just simply stop thinking of you. humans and fairies could never be together no matter how hard he tried after all. especially because he was your guardian fairy, meant to watch you from afar and bless you with a happy life.

and that's the problem.

he's tried. god, he's tried everything to forget that you even exist. to stop this disgusting feeling that crawls up his chest at every mere sight of you. you have no idea how many times he's been scolded by his supervisors for not looking after you and skimping out on work. really, this is your fault. he's tried to tell them.

you think he wants to feel like this? fuck no. he absolutely detests getting this fluttery feeling in his chest, the heat that rushes to his cheeks as he tries to brush his embarrassment off as the summer heat.

but what can he do? when all he wants to do is come back and see you? to hold you sweetly in his hands even though it's not possible? what can he do when this tiny fairy loves you with all his body?

the answer is: you can't. you can't do anything to stop the feeling.

in fact, every time he tries, it's like the feeling grows stronger. and that sucks. really sucks. especially because he gets so, so flustered that... he ends up treating you like shit. and it's not like he wants to either! he just can't fathom that you make him feel like this.

so he calls you stupid, pushes you away in hopes that it'll get rid of the feeling in his chest. the supervisors don't even do anything. just tell him to take some fairy dust and get with another fairy to take his mind off of you.

but really, it only worsens the feeling.

what does he do then? what on earth does he do now that he realizes pushing you away doesn't help, and actually makes him feel worse? that being with others makes him feel like he's commited a treacherous act, like you're the only person he should be this intimate with?

that's right! he violates fairy code and casts a spell that sizes him up to the size of a human. that's not something he should be doing but who cares at this point? he has nothing left to lose. at worse he'll just get killed and then he won't have to feel this disgusting feeling in his chest anymore.

however... he hadn't expected the fairies to go after you.

you of all people. the person that he cares about. the person that... that he broke a law for. you! you, goddamnit!

and he's ready to wage a war for you. doesn't matter if they come at him with an army or not. whether it's one or a hundred, he'll fucking kill them all for even daring to lay a hand on you.

he's your guardian fairy after all. he'll protect you. and he'll make sure of that even if it costs his life.

[krystella-shifts]

Ignoring symptoms/outer world and detaching while entering the void state

So I got this question & post idea in my DM and it's a great suggestion cuz I personally used to struggle with that and seen others struggle w/ it too.

So y'all are focusing too much on the 3d AND the thought that you are focusing on the 3d and that you shouldn't focus on the 3d. How to detach from it?

1. First of all stop focusing so much on the thought/belief that you ARE focusing on the 3d and to enter the void you HAVE to NOT feel it AT ALL cuz if you while inducing think like "ok I feel this symptoms but I'm also hearing this and why do I still feel my pillow" LIKE DON'T. Just relaxxxx we're not telling you'll to relax for nothing! Cuz I realised form my experience that if I stress that my family is being loud or if I'm feeling symptoms and that i shouldn't move AT ALL (as if I'm in some statue statue game olympics 🗿🥴) it brings my focus back on the physical world. But when I am relaxed i just don't give a fuck. Think about the time you were SO tired after a long day of being outside and you just wanted to go home and sleep, when you finally got to go in bed did you have any care in the world what's going on in the 3d? Ask yourself

2. You have two rooms if you don't wanna be in room A you just go in room B. Be in 4d to not be in 3d. Like as simple as that. Think, affirm, daydream whatever the fuck you do like literally have a party in your mind i don't care as long as you're not aware of the 3d anymore! You know what works best for you. You do not have to follow a damn method EXACTLY step-by-step. Make it your own. For me I can't only affirm and be only in the 4d cuz it's daily life for me to affirm so what I do is affirm while imagining or just imagine. And many time when I wasn't even trying to induce but was just imagining scenarios to sleep i wasn't aware of the outside world at all. Sometimes while thinking myself to sleep i felt whatever I was seeing behind my eyelids literally form and become more vivid as if I was actually in front of it (it was fun ngl 🤡) so yeah basically do what works for you. I can't tell you what works for you, no one can. Only you. (I wEnT cRaZy OvEr YoU)

3. For some people it can be fear. Fear of suddenly having everything they want (unlike what the damn bitch society have told everyone) so just accepting if you have this fear and telling yourself it doesn't have to be hard, painful the way society told us, everything is meant to be easy and just flow for us. Or your body/mind might be scared of "leaving" your body here or find it unusual but regardless telling yourself and body "you're safe, I am safe" is a great way. Writing down your fear and tearing it can also help.

Understand actually having it/ being in the wish fulfilled state

So you said you're in the void in the 4d but asking for help, even tho I obviously don't mind helping at all, you wouldn't be asking for help if you were actually in the wish fulfilled. F the terms you ARE actually in the void. I'm not just saying it as an aff or whatever. You actually are in the void 25/8. The void is within you. The void IS you. It is YOUR God state. Wdym you have it in the 4d and not in 3d??YOU JUST HAVE IT. You don't TRY to get into an awake or asleep state you just are in it when you are. Void is just like a mix of both being aware but asleep. You're not entering some completely different realm you are going within. When you force yourself to sleep you're just becoming more and more awake. But when you just let it happen it not only happens, it's effortless. Why treat Void state any different? It's not some magical thing getting you your desires YOU ARE. you can manifest anything in awake state too and you are the one manifesting in the void so don't put it on a pedestal please.

Nothing is holding you back from inducing the void state. If you believe nothing is, nothing is. Nothing can. Nope not even the 3d, not even the doubts. The law is always working. Stand in your power.

- Krystella

Wow this is something I needed to hear myself in my journey (i'mma pat myself on the back) thank you for the person who suggested this idea and let me attach the ss :D I'm grateful to be able to help! Feel free to ask. Thank you for reading !

Happy living our dream life 🥂💋🩷

✿˖˚ ༘𐙚

[navybrat817]

Hey- if you're still taking prompts for ficlet Friday- Bucky and #31- pinky swear.

Oh, this is sweeet! How about more of our drunk!Bucky before that night out?

Pinky Swear

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Word Count: Over 800

Warnings: Talk of fear of heights, backstory, slight angst, slight fluff

A/N: Takes place before Pretty Girl.

Bucky deeply inhaled the cool evening air and exhaled slowly. He hadn't moved from his spot on the outdoor sofa since he sat down, but he knew the number of steps it would take to get from his seat to the door. Looking at the rooftop guardrail, he reminded himself it was more than tall and sturdy enough to prevent anyone from falling. He was fine. Everything was fine.

“Bucky!” your pretty voice beckoned to him over the rest of the chatter from the group. “Come look at this view.”

Finding a stable point to look at was always good practice when he was afraid, and who better to look at than you? His pretty girl. You weren't technically his girl, but you were in his heart and you looked extra pretty tonight. He told himself the reason his heart stopped was because of how pretty you looked and not because of how close you were to the guardrail.

And here you wanted him to join you, but his body wouldn't move.

“I’m good right here,” he said, his smile tight. He gripped his beer bottle so tight he almost shattered it.

“You sure?” you smiled over your shoulder.

All he had to do was take a breath, get up, and join you. His head spun at the very thought, and he couldn't do it. He was a fucking coward. “I’m good,” he said again.

There was a frown on your pretty face as you went over to the sofa and sat beside him. “Hey. Are you okay?”

You always seemed to know when he was feeling off and he wanted to remove the concern from your eyes. “I don't…”

“You don't what?”

He inhaled and exhaled again, and he felt your pretty gaze on him as he ran a hand through his hand. There was nothing wrong with telling you. Maybe it would make him feel better. “I don't like heights,” he said above a whisper, feeling some of his anxiety subside.

It stemmed from his childhood when he lost his dad in a parachute accident, and it never went away. The fear only got worse when he fell from the train. When he was under HYDRA’s command, he wasn't allowed to experience fear. They locked it away deep inside with the rest of him. Now that was himself again, his fears came back to the surface stronger than before.

“Oh, Bucky.” You moved a little closer and angled your body as if to shield him from the view. It was sweet of you. “Are you okay?”

His jaw clenched, but he nodded. “I'm fine as long as I don't go to the railing.”

Your eyes widened and he felt like shit when he saw the guilt that swam there. “Oh, my God. I'm so sorry. I wouldn't have asked you to look if-”

“Don’t be. You had no idea,” he said, putting his hand over yours and quickly pulling away when he realized what he did. “I know you wouldn't have asked if you knew.” You were one of the most thoughtful people in his life. If you knew in advance that he hated heights, you not only would've kept him far from the railing, but you would've made the gang move the gathering somewhere else to accommodate him.

“No, I wouldn’t push you out of your comfort zone,” you confirmed, staring at your hand where he touched it.

“You’d somehow widen the comfort zone so I felt okay,” he smiled. That was the kind of person you were.

“Maybe,” you smiled. “May I ask you something?”

“Sure,” he nodded. Anything you wanted.

“If you don't like heights, what made you come up here?” you asked curiously.

You.

But he didn't admit that you were the reason. It would've been the right time or place. “I… I don't want it to be a big deal. Besides, I wouldn't look like a team player if I skipped,” he answered, and he was telling the truth. You were still the number one reason though.

“Well, if you aren't feeling it, we can go to the lounge. Just say the word,” you offered.

“We?” he repeated.

You played with the hem of your shirt, which made him smile. “Yeah, I mean, if you want the company.”

Bucky always wanted your company. “I’ll keep that in mind,” he smiled, leaning in a little closer. “And listen. I know this is silly, but if you could not say anything. Steve’s the only one who knows and…”

Bucky was learning to be vulnerable again. He was trying. And if there was anyone who wouldn’t use his fears against him even in a joking manner, it was you. He trusted you.

“I won't say a word,” you whispered.

“You swear?” he smiled.

You surprised him by wrapping your pinky around his, and your touch would linger long after you let go. “Pinky swear.”

Love and thanks for participating in Ficlet Friday! ❤️ And we still need him to confess.

[lady0mandy]

TL;DR: Fatshaming did not motivate me to lose weight, it programmed me to always hate my body, no matter the size.

Just wanted to weigh in with my personal experience with this matter. I was fat shamed, primarily by my mother, from the time I hit puberty. I was borderline underweight at this time, but my mother would still get on me about losing weight so I didn't get "bloatus of the toadus" or whatever the fuck she used to call it. In highschool it got a lot worse, with her criticizing my stomach every time she saw it and openly making comments about my body around family, friends, etc. I stopped letting her visit the doctor with me because I didn't want to hear her giving me shit every time they weighed me. She even asked the photographer who took my senior photos to edit them to make me skinnier (he was very uncomfortable and luckily did not do that). I repeatedly tried to explain to her why this behavior is inappropriate, and I would always get the same responses: "I'm just worrying about you" "I just care about you" "I just want you to be healthy" etc.

When I was 19 I broke my spine. As a result I put on about 15-20lbs and let me tell ya, all hell broke loose. The guy I was seeing at the time was fatphobic and would fatshame me on a daily basis while also trying to control what I ate and what I did in my spare time. I repeatedly tried to explain to him why what he was doing was hurting me, and all he could say was "it hurts because it is true" Eventually I had enough and kicked him to the curb. I remember trying to confide in my family about his cruel behavior and each time my mom couldn't help but chime in "he's right, you know!".

Do you know what over a decade of fatshaming did for me? Well, first of all it gave me a pretty messy eating disorder. Some days I wouldn't eat anything. Some days I would eat everything. Some days I would purge until nothing was left. However, it wasn't until I developed thyroid cancer that I saw a genuine change in my weight. I put on 50lbs fairly quickly and it had a detrimental impact on my self esteem. My entire life I had been told my worth was dependent on how skinny I was, and now I was rapidly gaining weight. I started hearing the same things my mother and ex used to tell me, but from a lot of other people as well. I quit making my silly little tiktoks and sharing my silly little opinions on the Internet because I couldn't handle the waves of trolls coming at me for my weight. I quit wearing makeup because I felt that I didn't deserve it. I quit dressing up because I felt I didn't deserve it. I couldn't look at photos of myself without wanting to cry. I couldn't eat a meal without feeling guilt and shame. I didn't feel motivated by their cruelty, I felt defeated. I felt helpless. I felt like a disgusting waste of space that didn't deserve to live.

I have made some major improvements over the past year or so. I have been working with a therapist on the ED for a couple years now and this past year I have done really well. I still have days where I don't eat, but I can't remember the last time I purged or over ate. I got my thyroid out, and my weight is returning to where it was. People have been complimenting me, telling me how great I look, how noticeable it is, how hard I must be working, etc and instead of making me feel happy or proud it just makes me feel like shit. I still hate who I see in the mirror. I still hate my stomach and my chin and the fat around my arms. I bought some new makeup and I'm trying to put more effort into my appearance, but all I see in the mirror is a clown. Fatshaming did not motivate me to lose weight, it programmed me to always hate my body, no matter the size.

Anyways, I doubt anybody is going to read all this but it felt good to type it out. Don't fatshame. It never helps.

The number of times I've earnestly seen the take "but it's good for fat people to be mean to them! It motivates them to lose weight!"

Also whenever you provide even light pushback that maybe bullying people does not magically make them skinny but instead makes them depressed, they immediately demand scientific sources as if "bullying fat people is good for them" is scientific concensus and you therefore owe them a peer reviewed paper.

No babe I'm so sorry you're not actually doing people a service by being an asshole to them you just want an acceptable target and have decided that fat people are one. You don't get to be a bad person until you've produced 3 peer reviewed meta analyses that being a dick to random fat people improves their health, OK? I'm sure people will thank you for your invaluable service of being an asshole.

[rueclfer]

evergreen

𖤓 part viii. | series m.list | prev | part ix.

you weren't sure how things got to this point.

with one hand, you were clutching onto a fitstful of touya’s t-shirt and in the other you had your fingers wrapped around his outer forearm as it slung over your shoulder.

touya's body weight threatened to drag you down with him as you two stumbled through the woods. with his phone flashlight haphazardly swinging in all directions in his loose grasp, you could only hope you were heading towards the right direction.

"move your fucking feet, touya," you groan, dragging him forward.

"the fuck do you think i'm doing?" he slurs, accidentally kicking the back of your foot for the third time.

you felt hot against the side of his body at all points of contact. your palm was burning against his waist as were your fingertips wrapped around his wrist. 

it's fine. it's fine. it’s fine

how did a couple shots turn into another quarter of that handle of vodka? how were you somehow managing fine?

the first time you gotten drunk at camp was during your last summer. hawks and touya made it a tradition to sneak in a bottle or two since you were fourteen, but it wasn't until you were seventeen when tomura was old enough to be invited to partake and the weight of peer pressure had finally cracked you.

that night, you were met with your creator in the woods behind hawks' cabin at an ungodly hour with a blanket hung over your shoulder and touya holding back a fistfull of your hair.

"everyone's first time is like this, don't be embarrassed." he assures, biting back laughter.

"did i ruin it?" you drunkenly sob over a pool of your own vomit.

“no, you were perfect.”

at least this wasn’t that. 

you could’ve at least enjoyed this experience and been a bit tipsy, but the responsibility of dragging touya of all people back to your beds was harrowing enough to sober you up.

"my phone died." he groans.

"yeah, i can tell," you huff, staring at the ground in darkness.

"i'm scared."

"of the dark? you're a twenty three year old grown man, babe," you scoff "i'm sure the woods are more scared of you than you are of it."

"in the dark. in the woods. alone. with you." he hiccups.

"i don't bite."

"wish you did."

you hear the smirk in his voice- the familiar teasing tone that never failed to twist your stomach and make your throat go dry. you don't respond.

the buzzing of your cabin's porch light called out to you like an applause at the finish line and you swore you've never been more excited to be reunited with a rock hard twin sized mattress.

“you’re gonna have to walk up a couple steps, okay?” 

you pull him closer to you. how cruel would it be to leave him on the front steps of the porch if he doesn’t cooperate? of course you’d bring him a blanket and pillow. it’d be nice to be woken up by the rising sun wouldn’t it?

“heard.” he mumbles, resting his cheek against the side of your head.

you curse to yourself once your cold hand meets the warmth of skin where his t-shirt had ridden up his waist.

you almost reflexively rip your hand away until your fingers twitch against the sudden divide between soft flesh and unfamiliar rough thick grooves running up his torso.

your eyes dart back and forth between the concentration sewn in his furrowed brows, and the front door just steps away. your fingers freeze in place. touya’s focus remains down at his feet. he doesn’t notice.

you let your fingers press into his skin as you help him keep balance up the steps. your index and middle finger push against thick rubbery skin as your ring and pinky finger sink into soft flesh. you don’t know what to make of it.

once you two practically fall into the front door, you think about giving him a glass of water, and laying him on his back. you could let your hands glide up his torso, bringing the ratty band tee up over his head and onto the ground, and you could look at him. really look at him.

that white hair he used to complain about and slather in black hairdye had grown past his ears. did you stop dyeing you hair because you lost the only person you’d let touch it?

he added a few new piercings to his collection. did you do these yourselves again?

his cerulean eyes still has that gleam to them. i still recognize you.

this is the first time you’ve let yourself think about him all day. every time he crossed your mind since your meeting this morning, you’ve been quick to chased it off with a distraction. maybe you were drunk, because for the first time in years, you’re wondering besides the obvious, what’s changed?

a lot could happen in five years. new people. freak accidents. it’s all inevitable.

maybe it's nothing.

a/n: somehow leaning towards canon adjacent dynamics and snippets eeeeeeep and i also feel like we r finally moving the story along kinda sorta so yaay

tags:

@iluv-ace @bitchyfestivalbouquet @redr0sewrites @babylambdietcoke @bnhabadass @hanmastattoos @1ndee @starsryi @nesrynsblog @twoplayergaymers @suksatoru @ita606 @pookiebear16 @fictionalcharactersownmyheart @in-the-marina-trench @haruhi269 @itgetzweird08 @ilophilia @chimimon @emluvs-sugu @punishblue @whorror-complex @akumakitsune21 @maddie-rose-1 @ixeyi @commonmisery @ggriwm @exselily @kryscent @starrmage @vannyinthestars @burnishingbagels @soobhns @kaybug88 @lantsovheiress @0skullyard0 @albakugo @sleepyk0dyz @blu3-l0v3r @bakugouswh0r3 @kaldurahms-lover @thoughtswithbbg

[whispersleo]

MY TASTE IN MEN

This was supposed to be a warm-up meme sketch, but I started writing the comparisons seriously, so here’s the post...

Astarion and Illario

They become "villains"/bad guys as a response to trauma.

They use their beauty and body to deceive and objectify themselves to get what they believe they want.

They have suffered physical, verbal, and emotional abuse that would break anyone.

They don't want to see themselves as victims, nor show—they hate feeling—weakness. They want to be stronger and crave power at any cost.

They display superiority toward others when their entire lives they have been beneath or in someone's shadow.

They have become so accustomed to lying and manipulating that I doubt they even know their true selves.

They approach someone who welcomes them with open arms, all the while thinking about how to use that person.

They fall to pieces if you show them genuine affection and love, what it’s truly meant to be.

They would kill for you.

They are my wet rats; they have no body hair.

I think, after all, they do enjoy sex—it probably involves unconventional things.

What they want and what they need are VERY different things.

I can fix them.

They have a strange relationship with blood.

They would betray you if it meant saving their own lives.

Showing vulnerability is the last thing they want, and strangely, it's what would save both of them from becoming monsters.

I have a weakness for men who try to kill me. You're screaming for me to fix you babe.

This could end very badly or very well.

They are charming and it is easy to fall for their lies instead of seeing beyond that mask.

People see them as "dumb" when they are tremendously intelligent. They may not be textbook smart, but they know how to read people, ask the right questions at the right time, they wait for the opportunity and always analyze the situations they find themselves in. People call them "dumb" because it's easier to accept it instead of the complex idea that a character can be smart but a moron at the same time.

They won't be jerks to you, but they'll probably treat the waitress on the date poorly if she fucks up something.

They are the kind of person who is worth being romantically with, but to get there you have to take off their mask and that in itself is a great effort.

They definitely want to be someone's first choice, for once in their lives.

Deep down, all they want is adoration, love and respect.

I want to hold them and tell them that they deserve to be loved without any ties or conditions to that love.

Gale, Emmrich and Lucanis

They are sweet by nature, kind souls despite all the pain they've been through.

Showing kindness is what makes them strong.

Once they fall in love with you, they are lost.

They have enormous insecurities.

They feel the weight of the world on their shoulders all the time.

Great facial and body hair.

They have a strange relationship with death.

They have a huge heart that yearns to love.

I would feel very proud to introduce them as my partner. Like yes this good man loves me, isn't that amazing?

They have self-destructive tendencies.

It makes me blush to hear them laugh because it’s the most precious sound in the world.

I would feel safe with them around.

They would die for you.

Gale and Emmrich

They are professors, and I DEFINITELY don't feel an incredible attraction toward men who can teach me interesting and unknown subjects in depth (of course, that DOESN'T turn me on).

They are the smartest and kindest in this room.

They love to show and share their studies and knowledge with anyone willing to listen.

They are patient.

They know how to listen.

They offer their opinion when you clearly didn't ask for it.

Too many times they want to help or give advice without being asked.

They've had many partners, but they love you a lot, and that willingness to learn how to love again is one of their most beautiful qualities.

In some strange way, they know how to fight when I think they're meant to be treated with care and delicacy or they'll break (just kidding).

Oh, and by the way, both of them are mages—guess it's sexy that you can do a bunch of magical things...

They are nerds even when it comes to sex and I love that. Of course I don't know anything about anatomy, do you want to explain that to me, professor?

Astarion, Illario and Lucanis

They have killed more people than I should feel comfortable with.

"The hands that cradled your face and tilted it upwards to kiss your forehead are soaked in unfathomable quantities of blood." But they cradled me, yes?

They are trained assassins, and that raises some questions about my own morals.

Why do we kill?

What does it feel like to take a life?

What does it feel like to hold the weapon with which you snatch away the last moments of someone who was as human as you and me, who had desires, fears, aspirations, who didn’t want to die?

What kind of superiority do you think you have to do that and see your target as nothing more than a simple cockroach?

How can you sleep at night?

Do those thoughts torment you, or are your dreams sweet as if you hadn’t done anything wrong?

How do you decide that someone deserves to die, my love?

Would you kill me like you've killed so many if, in some way, you believe I deserve it?

Don’t you think the sins you see in others, in those you kill, are also your own?

I LOVE characters with complex morals, it's so sexy. Yes, baby, kill a few more, let's bathe in the blood of our enemies or anyone who opposes us, let's dance with their corpses, I love you.

I know they are flexible.

Astarion and Emmrich

A date in a cemetery? Sure! Wait, why am I excited to do it on a grave? Ugh, I hope this doesn’t awaken another weird fetish in me...

I can't stop thinking about blood and corpses in a way that's too pleasant.

Their sense of fashion is superior.

They always carry a brush with them, in case they get a little messy in the middle of a fight.

I think both of them can sew pretty well.

They have a strange desire to become some kind of superior being, and that could end very well or very badly.

There’s some strange necromancy here.

They love to read, and that's very cute.

Gale, Illario and Lucanis

Their long hair gives me years of life, I want to run my fingers through it, caress it, comb it, pull it, I love it.

Maybe I like their hair because it's like mine, but either way.

I love drawing them.

Thinking about them makes my brain jump in my skull.

I just want to take away all your pain.

They have been emotionally abused but they cannot recognize themselves as victims, because they feel love for their abuser and the abuser loves them in a horrible way, the way only a mother's love could twist you.

DEFINITELY MOMMY ISSUES.

(This becomes more complex thinking about the relationship between Mystra and Gale / Zara and Illario and Caterina but that needs a whole power point presentation).

Gale and Lucanis

Canonically, they are THE wife material.

They are soft and loving once you’re with them.

They know how to cook and do any domestic task you can think of.

The house/camp is always in perfect condition thanks to them.

They look at you like you are the most precious person in the world.

I want to get them pregnant.

They have the saddest, most puppy-like brown eyes that make you love them instantly.

Their face screams for kisses and affection.

I know that between your arms is the warmest place in the world and that I could fall asleep to the sound of your beautiful heart.

I would distract myself by running my hand through their beards and remove any white hairs I found (without them asking me to).

Lucanis wins points for speaking spanish but Gale also wins points because let's remember that he is a professor.

Astarion, Gale, Illario and Emmrich

Absolutely freaks in bed BUT they can be vanilla if you ask them pretty please.

Lucanis

This man is virgin and demisexual like me so I think I would feel extremely comfortable knowing that there is no pressure to do "it" and that he is a man who values ​​company beyond pleasure, calming one of my biggest insecurities.

Not saying the others here can't value company is just... Yeah just sex isn't for me now. And that has ruined many of my relationships. So it gives me more peace of mind to think that my lover can also be a virgin like me and none of us have that expectation.

I'm not saying that the others here would pressure me to do it either. I don't think any of them would. But I know that they can see it as something important in the relationship and there's nothing wrong with that.

Mph-mph.

Gale

He is MY wife.

I have his name tattooed on my arm like branded cattle and I love it.

I have 500 hours on Baldurs and I always start a game again just to hear him breathe.

His relationship with his ex wouldn't create insecurities in me because I already have them so nothing new.

I fear that this man has taken my expectations to a place that cannot be reached by "real" men and I will die alone bUT happy to have met a fictional character written as beautifully as him.

I want to fall asleep while he reads me a book.

He has a cat that talks and has wings, I love her.

I love men who just can't shut the fuck up.

I'm sure his mom would like me and you have no idea how important that is to me HAHAHA my mother-in-laws (except one) always hated me so I would like to feel welcomed in a home for one damn time.

I love him.

I can always like other characters but none as incredible as you, Gale.

[stargirl-ae]

It's Just Pretend ; L. Howlett ⚔︎

Pairing: Logan x Female Reader

Summary: Reader has a formal work gala she needs to attend and she's spoken to her colleagues that's she's newly married and they wish to meet her husband. Push comes to shove Logan attends the work gala with Reader and the night ends with an exploration of each other.

Warnings: Alcohol consumption, Unprotected schmex (wrap it before ya tap it, gents), Oral (F! Receiving), Fake marriage.

Word count: 2.4k

MDNI

a/n: okay, hi! i legit haven't written in SO LONG ! buut, this has been in my notes for like three weeks and I wrote this after watching Deadpool and Wolverine for the second time and i legit was half drunk off of six raspberry twisted teas, but when i say i had an entire h o r n y episode about logan, gnawing on the iron bars (or whatever brittany broski said) plus i don't know how to do summarys and warnings and correctly.

this is not spell checked / grammar checked don’t come for me

anyway, enjoy yall 𝜗𝜚

⋆༺𓆩⚔️𓆪༻⋆

“Please Logan, for the love of God, can you please just get dressed? I will leave alone.” you shouted more at yourself than at Logan, you were still getting ready in the mirror, with a large white light surrounding your reflection. The bathroom counter was scattered with your makeup, your straighter, and possible perfume options. “This is stupid, I don’t look right in a goddamn suit,” You could hear him mumble in the hallway outside of the bathroom. “Look, a lot of important people are going to be there, I just want to see like it’s like I have my life together, with a good job and a husband, please !” at this point you're gritting these words through my teeth. 

“A husband !? You don’t even have a goddamn ring? How are people supposed to believe that!?” The temper in his voice only seems to get higher. “It doesn’t take a fucking genius to order one online.” You snap back at him. Letting out a breath and stare into you reflection, your dark hair perfectly straighten out, your eyes surrounded by the color of sage green eyeshadow, black satin dress clung to your figure perfectly hugging ever curve and contour out of your body. Turning around to look over your shoulder to see yourself from behind and in all honestly, you're happily with your results of your own talent with your hair and makeup.

You could hear Logan huffing, he can be so goddamn stubborn. “A fake marriage, how fucking cliche can y-“ his words were cut off, he stood in the doorframe of the bathroom and the energy changes in the room, the air stiff, no movement, no friction. Turning your head slightly to see Logan in black dress pants, no shirt, no shoes. His toned torso, rising and falling with every breath he took. “Shit, if I knew you cleaned up this good I would’ve made you my fake wife months ago.” His mouth slid into a smirk, his hazel eyes raking my body up and down. Suddenly in that moment you felt way too exposed, collarbones exposed, the way the low-cut satin hung between your tits. “Look, you need to tell me now if you’re going with me, I need to leave in like ten minutes.” You huff out at him, eyes would dart from his chest to his eyes, his lips. “If you weren’t so busy eye-fucking me, we could’ve left two minutes ago, bub.”

— *after the work gala* —

“A fake wife, what a fucking idea,” Logan buried his words into your neck, his lips slightly nicking at the sensitive skin. The work gala ended up being filled with tequila and champagne, seeing a fake three carat diamond ring on your left hand being left to pretend this perfect married life with Logan brought me to this very situation; slammed into his bedroom door here in the X-Mansion. “I could make you mine, bub.” His voice vibrates against the side of your neck. "Y-yes Logan, I’m yours, please.” the words came out more as a whine than they did words. His scruff tickled the sensitive skin near my pulse point, he snuck in a laugh against my skin. “Look at you, so desperate for me.” He trailed kisses down my neck and near my collarbone. My breath hitches in my throat. My thoughts were messily left all over my mind, this was so wrong, but fuck, everything felt so good, so fucking right. 

We were on the outside of Logan’s bedroom door, “Logan, someone could hear us, s-someone could see us.” Your eyes fluttered, his lips felt so good against the tender skin of my collarbone. “Shh, it’s two in the morning, nobody’s up.” Just fucking us. “Wait, wait, wait.” Grabbing on to his face, to pull him away from my skin. “Please, behind closed doors.” Your breath was heavy, and Logan's hazel eyes looked into mine with lust and need. “Do I need to pretend we’re fucking married? I can do that.” He raised an eyebrow at you, in mere seconds he crouches down and buries his arms behind your legs, with the sudden movement you squeal. “Shit! Logan!.” He manages to open the door and we head through the doorframe. 

There was no denying the way you felt about Logan, why would you think I would choose him as a husband. Well, a fake husband.  Logan kicked the door closed and took a few more steps until we reached his bed. The room smelled of whiskey, musk, and cigars. The smell was undeniably him, the definition of a man. “For the love of God, you look too fucking good in this dress,” He was gentle, placing you down on his bed. His eyes taking in every detail of your dress and your body. Your chest rising and falling with the amount of sheer intensity of what this was. “Too good to fuck me in?” The words left your mind before you could even process them. Your left hand flew to my mouth, not believing what you just said. “Oh my God.” 

You could see Logan’s eyes fall to the faux wedding ring, “Is that what my wife wants?” My wife, fuck that sounds so good. He snakes his way between my legs, his face meeting mine. He takes a deep breath in, a smirk curling upon his lips. “I can smell how fucking wet this cunt is for me.” he sneaks a hand between my thighs, playing over the delicate fabric of your lace panties. “Mmm, so fucking wet. Tell me how you want me bub, hmm ? My wife, how does she want me?” His pointer finger swirls little circles on your clit through the thin fabric. Logan may be over two hundred years old, he may know is way around a woman’s body but fuck this was heavenly. “Fuck, please Lo- fuck me please.” Your plea rung through his bedroom like a prayer. 

“That’s my girl.” He placed rough kisses on your shoulder, biting down on the strap of your dress, his finger still swirling circles on your sensitive bud. You could only manage to hum back positive hymns back to him. He pulled down a single strap until your chest was revealed. He managed to do the same with the other side until your entire chest was exposed, your nipples hardened under the feeling of the cold air in his room. “Fuck, look at you, so fucking beautiful.” He buried his head between your tits, his breath against your sensitive skin. Placing kisses across one of your breast, licking over your nipple, a ray of electricity struck through you. He places his warm mouth over your nipple, his teeth nicking lightly, sucking you in softly. Grabbing a pillow and placed it over your face to keep myself from sounding like a fool. Your nipple came from his mouth with a comical pop, he laughed to himself and moved to the other side. In a way you wanted to laugh at that sound, tossing aside the pillow off his bed.d “Do you know how hard I tried to control myself tonight? With you looking like this?” He looked up at you through his thick lashes. Again he places his warm mouth against your sensitive skin, in that same moment I could feel him push your panties to the side. Skin to skin, his index finger meet your clit, circling the sensitive bunch of nerves. 

“Oh my god,” everything felt like heaven. Logan let go out go of your nipple from his mouth to move to the part of your dress that had still been hugging my torso. He trailed kisses down your stomach, fingers digging into the flesh of your hips, dragging you towards the edge of the bed. He lowered himself between your thighs, feeling his breath against your core. You could hear him breathing you in, his chest heaving. “Look at her bub, fucking soaking for me.” His voice hums against the walls of his bedroom. He inches closer to your clit, taking in small kitten-like licks. Even the slightest amount of friction was ecstasy. Your hands traveling into his brown hair, peppered with grey strands. He hums against you, he licks through you folds, leaving you a moaning mess “Fuck, yes Logan! Please baby!” Your back arches off his king sized bed. His tongue laps over your clit time and time again. He dives two fingers into your aching core while his tongue laps over your bud. “Fuck, fuck, yes, yes!” You praise him, your words linger in throughout the room. His fingers steady in your cunt, curling up to reach that sweet fucking spot, your mouth falls open like a goddamn fool. 

“Look at you bub, you wanna come for me?” He came up from in between my legs, his eyes meeting yours. “Yes, L-Logan, please, baby, let me come. Don’t stop.” God, you couldn’t have sounded anymore needy. His fingers pump into your cunt like his like his life depended on it. His thumb tracing over your clit. Your breathing was erratic. Your chest heavy with ecstasy. Your stomach was tight with emotion and warmth. Your chants echoed like a perfect prayer. The warm coil snapped in your stomach and your mouth fell open with the sound of Logan’s name. “Holy shit, fuck me.” You breathe out. 

You could feel the heat in your face flush, you swear you were seeing stars. Your eyes raked over Logan’s body, his chest, his stomach, your eyes meet where his waistline laid perfectly, the outline of his slightly hard cock. “You want me to fuck you huh? Anything for my wife.” With his words he undoes his belt to under his button on his black dress pants. He pulled down his pants slowly, leaving his cock to spring up. He’s not even fully hard and it’s fucking huge. “Oh my god,” Once again the words leave my mind before I could process. He palms himself, his head falling back with the smallest moan. “You gonna be my good girl? My good fucking wife taking my cock?” His words like velvet through your ears. Your voice was barely audible as a hum, you shook your head. He pulled down his boxer letting his cock spring free, coming up to nearly hit his stomach. His tip was this deep red leaking pre-cum. “L-Lo, I don’t know if you’re gonna fit baby,” In all honestly, you did process that thought. “Oh baby, you can take, you can tell me if you wanna stop okay?” His words were soft as he pumped himself. 

Logan wanted to learn your body as he went, and what he knew as of right now if that you’re just a sensitive bunch of nerves, he passes the head of his cock through my folds, playing against your clit, leaving you a whimpering mess. Moving your hips against his cock until he’s lined up against your cunt. “Look at her, begging me to fuck her,” His cock was at your sensitive entrance of the your cunt, “Please baby, fuck me.” Your brows furrowing together. Logan pushed into you ever so slowly, your cunt hugging around every inch of his cock. He groans out your name. “Goddamn it!” He cursed out. “You’re so fucking tight,” He pushed in another inch into your cunt. “Fuck, fuck, Lo, stretching out my fucking pussy, fuuuck.” The words fell out of your mouth. Logan’s hips moved ever so slighty, energy pulsing through your sensitive cunt. “Do you want me to stop.” The genuine concern brought you back to reality, looking down to find that he had inches to go into your cunt. Shaking your head no, bringing your bottom lip between your teeth. “Please, please, go deeper.” Fucking whines left your lips. He pushes deeper into your cunt, his thumb lapping over your clit. This was fucking ecstasy. 

Each movement was carefully done by Logan, his hips jerking slightly, every advancement into my care was heaven. “Fuck, baby. She’s takin’ me so fuckin’ well.” He gritted through his teeth. The delicate praises ring through my ears nearly take me over the edge. “Fuck, give me more, please Lo-“ a pathetic please, a beg, a whine. “As you wish, sweetheart.” He pushes his further into you, reaching that soft spongy center in your sex. He curses out, learning to tower over you. Snaking a hand underneath your thigh to cradle the soft skin, sneaking his lips to meet the crook in your neck. His tongue tracing a line up to your ear, taking your ear lobe between his teeth. Rocking his hips into you, setting a steady pace and leaving you to chant his name like. hymn. “So … fuckin’ … good.” Each thrust kept tightening the warm coil in your core, getting ready to snap. 

“Yes, fuck … Lo, please … don’t stop.” The pathetic plea left your lips barely audible. “I hear you baby, you wanna come on my cock?” He brings his head out from the crook of your neck. His forehead meeting yours, leaving your chest heaving, you hand snaking from the back of his neck to his messy chocolate brown hair. His pace quickens, causing your mouth to fall, Logan looks at you with those determined eyes. “Come on baby, come for me,” His cock was nearly hitting your cervix, your brain became foggy, he was fucking you stupid, you could see the stars, the coil in your stomach would grow tighter and tighter. “You can do it baby, go ahead.” Logan’s soft words fell into your ears. “Oh my god, fuck fuck, Logan! Fuck! I’m coming, I’m coming!” Your legs shook around Logan’s waist, your chest trying to find all the air to breathe in.

You tried to find any to say anything, but all of your words came out as mumbles, barely comprehensible. A smirk curled up amongst Logan’s lips. “Look at you baby, such a good girl.” His lips came very close to grazing yours. “So good for me." He places a kiss on the top of your forehead. Your legs fell on the bed, feeling more like jelly rather than bone and flesh. "You okay?" Logan asks, laying next to you, covering the both of your bodies' lower halves. Turning your head to look into his hazel-green eyes. Sighing out, "Yes."

"Let's get cleaned up for the night huh, bub? You should stay with me tonight." He began to sit up, your eyes tracing over every muscle along his back. "I am your wife after all, Lo." You sit up with him, going in to kiss him on the cheek. "Might just have to make your my real wife." The amount of oxytocin flowing through the both of your brains could wake up a tiny village but both you and Logan ended the night tangled in each other's bodies, fitting into each other perfectly.

⛧°。 ⋆༺♱༻⋆。 °⛧

the end

⛧°。 ⋆༺♱༻⋆。 °⛧

[ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused]

Can you pls do a fem s/o and Kang sae-byeok head cannons 🙏

a/n: HOLY SHIT OKAY. this is so terribly long and i'd be more than willing to write a whole fucking series about this if need be. i almost cried like... two times while writing this because it's so cheesy and perfect, and it gives sae-byeok the life she deserves!!

SO, popular girl!reader x basket case!sae-byeok highschool au.

you're genuinely so sweet but your little clique are made up of people with that aren't so nice to people like sae-byeok.

you aren't mean! a lot of people just so happen to like you and know your name! and yeah, they invite you to some of the biggest parties at your school, but so what? it's just a large gathering!

but sae-byeok doesn't know that, and honestly? she doesn't want to.

she's not looking for anything with anyone, especially not with a person like you.

think of like a cliche scene from a movie: you're walking in the hallway with your group of friends, and you pass by her.

you guys lived in two different worlds that were never meant to collide... and yet they did.

it was a simple formula really.

with it finally being your senior year (going by american school because i know nothing about the korean school system 😭), that meant new classes.

and you had absolutely no friends in this one.

seats were taken up by friends that had found themselves together, while you just stood there like a fish out of water.

but then there was sae-byeok, sitting in the back of the class by herself, lost in the world happening outside the large window to the left of her.

and she was beautiful.

the sun hit her golden skin just right, illuminating her dark, dragon-like eyes that look like they could pierce your soul if they wanted to.

for the first time in a long time, you're hesitant as you approach the long counter for two.

"excuse me? can i sit here?" your voice is quiet, sheepish, and when she finally looks up at you, all your blood rushes to your cheeks.

she takes a moment to scan the classroom, before looking back out the window.

"sure." it's blunt, curt, monotone, a collection of synonyms to describe someone who's not interested in casual friendly conversation.

the bit of light inside of you dims, but nonetheless you take a seat next to her.

it's awkward, but you turn your body towards her, putting on a cheerful smile.

"hi." you say hopefully.

all the girl does is throw a look at you out of the corner of her eye before looking away again.

"uh my name is," you tell her your name. "what's yours?"

"does it matter?"

"i would like to think so. were gonna be sitting next to each other for the rest of the year, so i'd like to get to know you."

she finally turns her head fully, giving you a once over before meeting your gaze head on. "I don't want to know you."

"oh." you say, taken aback. "well, i'll be here when you're ready then."

after that, she didn't talk to you much, but you were sewn into each other's lives, whether she liked it or not.

of course you noticed her; how could you not? she was the prettiest girl you had ever seen.

though she basically acts like you're not there, you know she's watching you.

sometimes you can feel her gaze when you're doing your work, or when you're taking notes. it's like she's analyzing you instead of just trying to get to know you.

then, the class project happens.

both of you are forcibly paired up, and you're not too sure how she feels about it. all she does is look at you and say, "it looks like were partners, now." in that dry tone of hers.

you're over the moon about it, but you really try not to show it, though you're sure your smile gives you away.

"i'll do my half and you can do yours -"

"or you can come over to my house after school to work on it!" you offer enthusiastically.

yeah, you're so fucking obvious.

she just stares at you before looking at the paper that holds the instructions on it. "sure."

"great, awesome... here's my phone number so i can send you my address."

"mhm." she hums.

"can i finally know your name now?"

"... sae-byeok."

having her over at your house for the first time was... overwhelming to say the least. you stress cleaned the whole house, your light pink room glistening beautifully.

it got easier afterwards though, seeing her.

she finally talked to you at school, and through the project, you had learned about her ten year old brother, and her parents.

she was still blunt and dry-witted, but it became easier to understand her little by little.

your old friend group had noticed your absence, you often cancelled on them to hangout with sae-byeok after school.

sometimes she'd even bring her brother with her, and that was the first time that you realized that she trusted you.

your feelings grew, even as the project deadline had passed and you both had presented and got a good grade on it.

a part of you worried that things were going to go back to the way they were, but pleasantly they didn't.

things were going good, with your head in the clouds and most of your time being taken up by your lover girl, you were sure nothing could get better than this.

then, you were stopped in the hallway by your clique while on your way to your class.

"you've been ghosting us." one of the girls said.

"don't tell us it's for that weird girl. you know she doesn't have any friends, right?"

"c'mon, you're just making yourself look bad by spending time with her."

their cruel words bounced around in your head, and you had finally had enough.

"it doesn't matter if she doesn't have any friends or if you think she's weird. i like her. i like spending time with her. that should be enough."

things got better after cutting off your group of friends, and if sae-byeok noticed, she didn't say anything.

she honestly forgot they existed because of how much of your time had been spent with her; at lunch, at home, on the phone, or at school.

the thing about sae-byeok is that it wasn't that she was bad at expressing her emotions, it's just that she did it in a way that was different.

like buying your favorite drink while she was out, or sharing her umbrella with you if you forgot to bring one.

she would chide you of course, but there was a part of her that preened at the idea of being able to take care of you.

it was strange, having these new emotions for somebody, but she can't say that it surprised her.

she knew from the first day that she met you that you were different.

it wasn't as if she had no idea who you were, she's seen you around with your group of friends before, had seen how they treated others, had even been at the tail end of their "teasing."

but every single time without fail, you'd be right behind them, scolding them on their choices to be mean to people.

sae-byeok found it a bit redundant, seeing as though you had still hung around them, but appreciated the sentiment nonetheless.

of course she still held a grudge, and had no ambition to actually get to know you at all as a person, but that didn't mean she couldn't look at you.

admittedly, you were very pretty; with your flowy skirts and tops, and your cute little adornments.

the outside matched the inside, and so when you asked her to go to your house to work on the project, she felt that maybe... just maybe, you were worth a damn.

and she was right.

she learned your little habits, what you found funny, how genuine kindness seemed to flow through you regardless of who you were with, especially with her brother.

now, sae-byeok has never cared for any school wide function: homecoming, prom, any kind of dances really.

she's never had anyone she's wanted to take, so what was the point of going?

but you seemed very stressed about it.

sae-byeok didn't want to be that kind of person, but you would tell her anything and everything, even if she had nothing to offer you back, so surely you would tell her if you had a crush on someone, right?

she didn't like the feeling of jealousy, how it bubbles under her skin like an itch she can't scratch. it makes her irritable, and you don't deserve that.

but why can't she just muster up the courage to ask you then if it bothers her so much?

you were stressed, because not only was it time for prom, but sae-byeok had been acting weird; blowing you off, missing calls or texts, seeming distant even though you weren't even a seat apart.

you had no idea what was happening.

did she have someone else?

you know she wasn't a big fan of sharing her personal feelings, but you thought you guys were close enough to talk about your love lives.

you wanted to take her to prom so bad it made your bones ache, but you were scared.

what if she said no? even though she never implied she liked girls, she never said she didn't.

what if you've been reading the last couple of months wrong? she had been a lot more caring with the way she did things!

she would occasionally bring you your favorite drink, or even pay for your lunch when you went out.

she had even gone out of her way to put her arm around your shoulder when you cried during the notebook!

it wasn't like she was allergic to physical touch but, you guys just didn't do that.

okay, maybe you've wrapped yourself around her arm while you guys had been walking a time or two, and yeah she's even held your books when she walked you to your next class, but those things could mean anything!

you internally groaned, your head falling backwards and your eyes landing on the ceiling above you.

"hey, sae?" you forced yourself to say, lifting your head up.

wide, dark eyes looked up from her book, attaching themselves to yours. a silent gesture for you to continue.

"what do you think about prom?"

she stares another beat before looking back down, seemingly uninterested. "i think it's stupid."

"oh," you nod quietly. "well, i'm thinking about going." you see her body stiffen before feigning relaxation.

"okay."

"okay." you reiterate, any courage you had dying as quickly as it formed.

your heart breaks a little bit when you pick up your own book, tears burning in the back of your eyelids that you rapidly blink away.

she was right, maybe it was stupid.

the night of prom isn't as exciting as you wished it would have been.

you still had a handful of friends that were willing to hangout with you even though you had been cast out.

they tried their hardest to brighten up your dim mood. they didn't know much, but they probably figured it out, seeing as though sae-byeok wasn't currently glued to your side.

being all dolled up made it easier to be sad, because at least you were melancholic in a cute way.

you had been looking at your phone all night, and yet there was nothing from her.

how was it that you could feel so lonely in a room full of others?

the gymnasium was swimming with people, crowds upon crowds of them stretched from one wall to the other.

the lights were off, the room illuminated by the strobe of colors from the dj booth.

the ground was covered in confetti and balloons, and yet all you could think about was how you'd rather be anywhere than here.

couples gathered up; hands around waists, arms draped over shoulders, and backs hugged.

you picked at your freshly done nails, peeling at the glittery pink gloss.

"hey."

your eyes tore themselves away to gaze up at... sae-byeok?

"sae?" you said in disbelief. "you came!"

she shifted in place uncomfortably, it was clear she was out of her element.

you took the time to get a good look at her, and when you did, butterflies erupted in your stomach.

she was dressed in a suit, her eyes smeared with a bit of dark shadow. there was no mascara or eyeliner to be found, but it was so imperfectly her.

"why are you sitting here by yourself?"

"i -" you shook your head, smiling sheepishly. "i mean - i didn't come with anyone."

"you look pretty." she says.

"thank you." you finally give her your award winning smile, which was adorned with a shy flush.

the music slows down and you gaze at her nervously. "did you come for me?"

"why else would i be here?"

"true." you reply with a laugh.

there's a beat of music drenched in silence.

"dance with me." she says with a slight demand.

"dance with you?" you ask dumbly.

"isn't that what you do here at things like this?"

"yeah - i... yeah i'll dance with you."

she extends her long hand and you take it, your already damp body heating even more at the feeling of her skin against yours.

you can feel people staring, and you aren't sure if it's because she's wearing a suit, or if it's because you're you and she's her, but in the moment, it's the last thing you were thinking about.

your arms find themselves around her neck, and her hands land on your waist.

you're alight with nerves, your body trembling in fear, excitement, and anticipation.

you both begin to sway with no rhyme or reason, and you swallow the lump in your throat.

"sae..." you begin. you can't look at her, so you focus on the black bow-tie on her delicate neck.

"i know this is probably going to ruin everything, but i can't hold it anymore. every time i'm with you, it hurts. it hurts because of how much i love you." you ramble with a disbelieving laugh.

you can tell she's stopped moving, but she doesn't remove her hands from your waist. they don't tighten or tug you closer, they just sit on your body like dead weight.

"i'm sorry i fell in love with you, kang sae-byeok." you finally look up at her, and there are tears in your eyes. "it was just impossible not to."

her eyes are wide, disbelief swimming in her irises; but there was also hesitation, fear. she didn't know what to do, or what to say.

"when i first saw you, i thought you were the prettiest woman i've ever laid my eyes on. even if you were a bit mean about it." you laugh again wetly.

you giggle anxiously, untangling yourself from her and shrinking into yourself in defense the longer she takes to respond.

"i - i get it if you don't feel the same -"

she cuts you off by grabbing your hand, tugging you with her as she begins to walk, the soles of her torn up black converse scruffing the shined flooring.

the music dies behind you when the doors open and you're walked into the starry night outside.

"sae-byeok."

"i didn't want to do this inside." she says and when she turns to you, her eyes are glazed over.

"don't expect a big confession from me, but i like you too." she's standing like she's on the defense.

it was your turn to be in disbelief. "you do?"

"i already said i did."

you just laugh once more, and shake your head. "i don't need a big confession, sae. i just need you. just like this. just like now."

you both have a long way to go, and who knows if this is forever, but you think that's just fine.

[namism]

🩷KOBY🩷KOBY🩷KOBY🩷KOBY🩷KOBY🩷KOBY🩷KOBY🩷KOBY🩷KOBY🩷KOBY🩷KOBY🩷KOBY🩷KOBY🩷KOBY🩷KOBY🩷KOBY🩷KOBY🩷KOBY🩷KOBY🩷KOBY🩷KOBY🩷KOBY🩷KOBY🩷KOBY🩷KOBY🩷KOBY🩷KOBY🩷KOBY🩷KOBY🩷KOBY🩷KOBY🩷KOBY🩷KOBY🩷KOBY🩷KOBY🩷KOBY🩷KOBY🩷KOBY🩷KOBY🩷KOBY🩷KOBY🩷KOBY🩷KOBY🩷KOBY🩷KOBY🩷KOBY🩷KOBY🩷KOBY🩷KOBY🩷KOBY🩷KOBY🩷KOBY🩷KOBY🩷KOBY🩷KOBY🩷KOBY🩷KOBY🩷KOBY🩷KOBY🩷KOBY🩷

little things | koby

➳ categories: college au, gender neutral reader

➳ word count: 3k

➳ summary: It's no surprise when your friends' significant others swing by to drop off snacks and drinks for sustenance as you pull a much needed all-nighter for finals, but while everyone else is being looked after, who's looking after you? Enter Koby, the guy you never expected to care for you.

➳ notes: thanks for the request @mibso! ur like the best koby fan i know 🗣️

➳ cross-posted on ao3

"I... I think I'm gonna be sick."

Usopp tells you that he's on his third Red Bull as a dumb excuse for taking an unhealthy dosage of caffeine in a span of 18 hours because Nami has taken over four energy shots to power through the rest of her materials. She did it for the sake of passing Physics 189, an elective class on atmospheric physics that she stresses on too much because her love for it exceeds the exosphere, but she's starting to tweak (in Gen Z terms) because she has no fucking clue what's going on anymore.

Her head falls on the table of your study room—rightfully booked, not stolen, because your friend group is deferential compared to those study room squatters who don't even do any studying—and immediately, you and Usopp turn toward her in concern, the bags under her eyes being telltale signs of her surrender. It isn't Nami to give up on Physics 189 because she loves it more than anything, probably more than the weatherman in your local news, but in her defense, she hasn't slept in 31—going on 32—hours, and her body is giving into exhaustion despite the energy shots.

You stand from your seat across from her, reaching forward to gently shake her awake, but Nami is down like a snoozing puppy. Usopp groans when he realizes that he's going to need to carry her back to the girls' dormitories, while you thank your beliefs silently that she has finished enough of her materials to pass the exam she has to take the following morning.

"Sucks to be a physics major," Usopp mutters to himself as he pats Nami's head one last time before going back to his devices. He says that pitifully as if he isn't pitiful himself this finals week; he's a fine arts major because he likes being creative, likes putting things together, whether it be digital or traditional works of art, and if that isn't tiring enough, he also minors in engineering for fun (but maybe it isn't so bad because he has actual written exams he can study for instead of submitting a subjectively okay-tasting spaghetti due at 11:59 PM—only Sanji has to worry about that kind of shit in your circle).

Nevertheless, the grind never stops. You train your eyes back to your laptop, regaining your focus as you continue the assignment you've been working on the past hour. Once done, you hurry to the comfort room to take a quick break and arrive back at the study room to continue working.

By the time you arrive, however, more people have entered the small space, visitors from the neighboring rooms on the upper level. It turns out that they've come to visit your friends.

"Oh my god, um, is she okay?" Nami's girlfriend Vivi tries to shake her awake, causing Usopp to tell her softly that he tried to wake her earlier but to no avail. Distressed, Vivi puts down the small container she was holding and embraces Nami from behind, tilting her head toward her girlfriend's sleeping face and trying to talk her into waking up.

Usopp's girlfriend, Kaya, is the next to make her presence known by skipping over to the man, patting his head, and offering a bag of goodies and a PET bottle of lemon iced tea she got from the vending machine a few floors down. She smiles at you, and you reciprocate, not until the doors open to yet another sickly cute couple that makes you want to depressingly barf.

Sabo and Koala appear at the entrance of the study room with Sabo holding the door open for his girlfriend to come inside. She tells the two girls that study break is over, which promptly gets them moving. Vivi tells everyone that she has to bring Nami home, or else she's waking up to a grumpy girlfriend tomorrow morning, while Kaya obediently lets go of Usopp and helps him pack his things. As Sabo and Koala disappear, Usopp shyly apologizes.

"Why apologize?" you ask with a shrug.

"Because!" He gestures to the once-messy table where you, he, and Nami spent the past 15 hours studying. Now that Nami is being carried back to the dorms and he's leaving with Kaya, you'll be left alone with no one to look after you.

You shake your head. "I appreciate the concern, but everyone has to fend for themselves this season. You know the joke, 'Is it finals week or is it my final week?'" The couple bursts out laughing. "So really, you shouldn't be worried about leaving me here. I've survived the past few years in college, so this is easy shit!"

"Well, if you say so," Usopp says with a doubtful tone, but he takes it back because he's just playing with you. When he gets his things packed neatly inside his bag, he helps you and Kaya transfer a snoozing Nami on Vivi's back for a shameless piggyback ride to the dorms.

Once all is settled, your friends shuffle out of the study room, and the place is finally quiet.

Lonely and quiet.

Loneliness creeps up your shoulder as you lean back on the armchair with a sigh. Your chest feels empty, and it becomes more evident the longer you sit in quiet without the sound of Usopp's confused whispers or Nami's silent cusses. You're just alone, without your friends or any lover to bring you food to cheer you on. While everybody else is being looked after, no one is looking after you, and you'd be lying to yourself if you said that it didn't upset you.

There's always that unwanted feeling of jealousy that boils in your stomach whenever your friends and their lovers appear in front of you. They act so sweetly cute toward each other that it makes you yearn for a love as real as theirs, and now that finals season is rolling in, you need someone else's company more than ever. Kind of like aftercare, since college is kicking your ass and beating you into a pulp, so it makes sense to seek comfort. Unfortunately, you aren't graced even with the smallest bit of romantic interaction, so you just sit alone, sad, single, and most importantly, jealous.

As you wallow in silence, your stomach growls, and you realize that you haven't eaten or drunk in a while. You think back to the food Vivi and Kaya brought their lovers, and your heart sinks as another wave of loneliness crashes onto your pitiful single soul.

It feels nice to be loved, doesn't it? You think to yourself in jealousy as you look at the home screen of your cellphone.

"Shit, it's one o'clock?!" Yelling to yourself, you correct your posture on the armchair and shake your head to ward off grogginess. No wonder why Usopp and Kaya decided to leave; Kaya has strict guardians, and she only gets to hang out with a select few because she still has a curfew at her big age. It seems like she's broken that rule tonight, though.

Opening your laptop, you're notified that the battery is low. You roll your eyes as you angrily retrieve the charger from your backpack.

Unfortunately, it isn't there.

You look around your bag frantically, believing the device to be there even though it isn't. As you ransack your bag, tears of anger well in your eyes at the unfortunate event, your patience running thin by the second. You look through every pocket, hole, and nook and cranny, but the charger isn't there. When your laptop screen goes black and the stupid low battery icon flashes in the middle of the screen, your eyebrows automatically knit in fury as your hands clench into a tight fist.

Not only were you left alone, but you also can't find the one device that will get you through the night.

Having had enough, you slam your hands on the table in anger, letting the sound echo in the room and the pain settle on your skin. Fuck this shit. Fuck tonight, actually. You feel so alone and stressed by school, and to top it all off, you can't find your dumb laptop charger that you just want to—

"Ugh! I want to punch someone!"

"Okay, I'll just leave then!"

Your head spins toward the door in surprise. A guy with light pink hair peeks through the small opening like a lost dog, his hands a little shaky and his mouth forming a frown. You recognize him: Koby, one of the guys in your classes, who you got to spend a month-long group project with because the other people in your group weren't helping. Koby is calm and sweet, and you may not be close, but you vibe with him just right.

"Um, did you need something? Sorry for the noise, by the way." You sneak in an apology at the end of your question because you're not sure how Koby feels about witnessing an acquaintance-almost-stranger blare out about wanting to punch someone. Like you said, Koby is calm and sweet—it would be bad to give the poor guy a heart attack.

"I-I was going to ask if I could share the room with you since, w-well, you seem to be alone, and I saw your friends come out earlier—"

"Just come in."

Koby ignores the heavy sigh you let out in fear of ticking you off even more. Entering the room, he doesn't know why you're so stressed since you seemed to be having a good time earlier with your friends. The walls are made of glass, so he's been scouting the area like a hawk to hopefully score a vacant room to spend the rest of the night in. Helmeppo left the study hall hours ago in defeat, so he had to fend for himself alone.

Thankfully, you don't seem to be too bothered by his presence. He doesn't mean to be cocky, but maybe it's because he was a good group mate to you in the past.

Koby settles on Nami's vacant seat across from you, putting his bag down on the chair beside him. You watch him with bored eyes, and Koby swears he feels a chill run down his spine when he realizes that you're eyeing him intensely. Even then, he decides to mind his business and begin setting up his materials on the table.

Koby being Koby, unfortunately, he ends up breaking. "Sorry for the interruption," he says after feeling too embarrassed.

"It's okay. Sorry for staring," you mutter. Koby nods, disregarding your tired tone. Justifiable, he thinks. It's one o'clock in the morning, and everybody in the hall hasn't slept much besides him. He mentally pats himself on the back for deciding to sleep before coming there to study—good job.

Suddenly, he notices you groaning to yourself quietly, like a silent cry for help because you're too embarrassed to ask for it. Koby decides whether or not he should ask, seeing that you were already enraged to begin with, but he decides to just go for it because what could possibly go wrong with just asking?

"Are you okay?" he asks.

You roll your eyes. Koby hopes it wasn't meant for him.

"Yeah, yeah, I am— well, not really. No, I'm not okay. Do you have a Type C charger?"

Koby's lips open in slight shock. He's starting to get scared, like you're a ticking time bomb that can detonate any second now. Even then, he slowly nods and reaches for his backpack again to come and collect the charger you're asking for.

"Here." He pushes the device toward you, and you all but leap across the table to grab it. Koby notices your desperation when you crouch on the ground and plug the charger into the wall socket and hastily get your laptop back up and running. He gulps.

Once the screen lights up, your face brightens. "Thank you! Thank you, thank you, thank you!"

"Uh, you're welcome!" Koby awkwardly replies through a nervous laugh, delighted to see that you aren't angry anymore.

"You're my savior," you tell him. "You don't know just how sad I was today. I mean, my friends are gone, and my laptop just died on me, but I didn't bring a charger and all that shit. Worst of all, I'm literally—"

Your stomach growls.

"Starving," you finish. Koby keeps the same expression on his face, lips quirked up into an awkward smile as he listens to you ramble. You place a hand on your tummy and you rest your head on the table. "Sorry, Koby..."

He's glad to hear his name, though. It's nice to know that you still remember him despite your foggy brain and tired system. Looking into his backpack again, he grabs a small pink eco-bag and pushes it toward you.

You tilt your head up at the noise. The bag is right in front of your face.

"What's this?"

"You said you were hungry, so..." He nods to the bag and almost jumps from his seat when you snatch it with your quick hands. You look inside, then you scatter the contents on the table. Koby motions to the array of snacks: yogurt, milk, chocolate bars, peanuts, coffee-flavored candies, chocolate malted powder, and two bottles of probiotics. Realizing just how much food he had with him, he scratches his nape shyly. "Um, I always have food with me, but you can have these. I think you might need it because you've been here since morning."

You blankly stare at the assortment of snacks in front of you. Your heart pounds in your chest, and your lips form a pout.

Koby notices and assumes that you're staring at the milk.

"Sorry," he says meekly. He's kind of panicked, thinking that he brought the wrong flavor of milk. "Do you hate strawberry?"

"What?" you ask, then later on realize what he's talking about. Oh, poor innocent Koby—he thought you were upset with the milk, but really, you're just moved by his generosity. He's so kind. Do you even deserve this after scaring the guy? "No, I was just, like, thinking to myself, that's all."

"Oh," he says. "What were you thinking of?"

"I'm wondering if you're my guardian angel." His ears perk up and his cheeks start to turn pink. You pick up the strawberry milk he was talking about and inspect it closely. Then, you hold it in front of his face and make a side-by-side comparison. "Your hair and cheeks are pink, just like the milk."

His face flushes even more.

"And now you're blushing harder," you point out. As you observe the snacks on the table, many of what Koby bought seem to be strawberry-flavored, and it warms your heart to think that he seemingly has a natural attraction toward anything pink, like his light fluffy hair (and his seemingly squishable cheeks). It then crosses your mind if his hair is all-natural or if he dyes it regularly because it's the kind of pink that doesn't look real, but at the same time does. Koby catches you staring at him longer than socially acceptable though, so you snap out of your trance to avoid the awkwardness.

"I don't want to assume and waste your study time, but it seems like you're the one all entranced now," he mutters the last part because he realizes that he isn't bold enough to be making such moves on you, so he keeps his head down in embarrassment. When you don't reply, Koby opens his textbook, fixes his specs, and reads.

Your stomach aches another time, so you grab the yogurt and eat it like you haven't eaten in years. One by one, the snacks on the table disappear as you eat in silence, giving yourself a well-deserved break.

Suddenly, it hits you. Loneliness is washed away by a feeling of comfort, and, ugh, it feels so good to feel this way. Truth be told, you're still sad that your single self doesn't have a special romantic support person like your friends do, but even if you never saw Koby in that light, his company almost feels similar to it. Maybe it's the bitter jealous pang in your chest after seeing couple after couple be so lovey-dovey during finals season, but whatever it is, it's eased down a bit because of Koby. The kind guy, Koby. The oh-so-generous guy, Koby. The pink-haired guy who might be a modern-day superhero in secret, Koby. Just how many people has he done this for? Is it just you? How kind is he to share his cute pink bag of snacks because he sensed that you were hungry? What about the charger he probably needs for himself?

As you chew on an energy bar, you realize something.

Since when did Koby look this cute?

"Hey, what are you— are you crying?! Are you okay?!"

You nod your head. You didn't even realize you were crying until Koby looked up from his textbook and pointed it out. You cover your eyes with your arm.

"I'm fine, just, um, ignore me and keep studying! Gosh!"

In panic, he reaches inside his backpack for a fresh pack of tissues. He rises from his seat and walks over to you, offering it.

"Was it the candy? What's wrong?"

You reject the tissues. "No! It's just, like, about you and stuff—"

"Wha— I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to make you cry!"

"No, you got it all wrong! I'm thankful for you, not the other way around." You smile through your dramatic tears. "You're just so sweet to me. You lent me your charger and gave me food when I needed them most."

He blinks slowly.

That's it?

"W-Well, I'm glad that you're... happy... about it... I guess..." he replies questioningly. "Do you still need...?"

"Tissues? No, I'm okay." You wipe your tears with your hands and shake your head. You feel energized. "Thank you, Koby..."

...for being here.

There it goes again: the slight shock on Koby's face has a hint of confusion as he tries to make sense of your actions, but he's more understanding than judgmental given your circumstances. He doesn't know what got you all annoyed in the first place, but if you're okay as you claim to be, then that's good enough for him.

Koby smiles at you genuinely. As he goes back to studying, you make a mental note to befriend him once this is all over.

[nwarrior777]

thought to write cute post, turned out to be manifesto of Love to fat geek guys. another post of my "wait a minute, it's not weird to love fat people and be loud and proud about it, we just live in fucked up world where if you say you love fat people you are considered strange, and that's *exactly* why i will not shut up about it now" posts series

intimacy topics are involved

my "omg that's HOT 😍😍😍 guy other here.. top tier boyfriend material" type is very fat gamers (esp if they are good at some game, like, good at fightings or soulslikes, knowing all these complex mechanics and combinations etc) with special interest (esp building constructions: ships, lego) in glasses and beard (last two is optional bonus points). and i don't understand why it's not popular opinion. i mean i know why [capitalism + fatphobia] but i am shocked people still buying it

like. soft. its just literally nice and absolute heaven feeling to touch and hug and kiss fat boyfriend. they know interesting things and can tell interesting stories about it. if they make something - painting warhammer sculpts, lego, ships - they are artists, love it, very hot. whatever other special interest - hot brains, extra hot. glasses, beard - fucking beautiful

and its "not hot" by "society" "norms" cause... well, cause companies tell us. they are out of new ideas of what to sell and now they sell hate. and companies tell us that Hot Boyfriend Material (c) (trademark) (ai drawn) is..

fit rich guy.

like. em. what the hell people find hot about that.

don't get me wrong - *all* people are beautifull, no questions to muscular guys. but like. in social norm its like there is nothing more in that "hot guy norm" defined by society [capitalistic companies] *other* than "be rich and fit"

what to talk about with them? like, ok, you can go to whatever place on earth with him. but what to do with him there

intim? well, noone will be able to argue with me about that sx without fat person involved is better. it's literally feels more nice

i mean... idk, am i being autistic about it but?? its literally more nice *texture* feeling to touch fat. its soft. everyone like everything soft - plushies, pillows, matrasses, but then bodys its oh oh, no soft. okay, can get that everyone has their own thing and it can be nicer to touch muscles for someone, but, touching fat in intime and sexy ways considered as *something gross*. wtf? how can it be gross??? and its coexist with other "rule" - "oh fatty guys are nice to hug. as friends. haha they cute and funny :3". in which moment your nice to hug fat friend becomes ow ew gross to touch someone's boyfriend?

so yeah, people are caging themself out of absolute Eyphoria feeling of Love to people cause.. capitalists sold them idea about Love is smth cringe ew and not cool. selfhate 24/7 running in gym and eating water is eee cool, epic. god, it's so sad.

heaven is on earth and its to have soft boyfriend

[patchworkcuddlebug]

Humanity

[CW: Passive suicidal ideation.]

Being a person feels... heavy. Like I'm always full of something. It didn't have to be gross, but it usually was. Sometimes it was something with an easy word to it, like disdain or cowardice, but usually it was more vague. Some sort of congealed, disgusting mass that's been slowly accumulating for as long as I've been alive, weighing my guts down until I'm too stressed to eat and too tired to sleep.

I don't want to die. Death sounds too painful, and I'm scared of commitment. But, as I looked out into the bay, waiting for the traffic on the toll bridge to advance, I can't help but daydream. If I drove into the river, just by some freak accident out of my control, I... wouldn't do much to fight it. I would just let whatever happens happen as I sit still. Let this heaviness in my chest weigh me down and drown me.

My whole life was like that, really. Just moment after moment of letting things out of my control happen to me. My parents never really let me do much, either because we didn't have money, or they decided it wasn't right. I had to move out young after they died, and that didn't give me much of a choice in where to work and where to rent. I didn't even have a chance to think about what my major would've been.

Being a waitress meant doing what you're told when you're told, which table to go to and what to bring them, and what to clean. The work itself was fine, it's just... everything around it. The same awful people just as trapped here as I am, the same inconsiderate boss that barely pays me enough to buy vegetables, the same disgusting smell of fish and chips, all building up and coagulating little by little.

The only way I could get through an average work day was by shutting my brain off and just letting my body move on its own. The years I've worked there have just been the same fog of meaningless obedience. It's a sort of torture, suppressing your ego all just to become your work, for the sake of people you hate. Just feeling full and heavy and gross.

That's how I survived most of my life. Ever since I started school, I learned quick that you keep your head down and go with the flow. Don't be too loud, too big, too anything. Just look pretty and do what you're told without thinking too hard about what you're doing. Try not to feel too much.

Of course dying isn't that big of a deal. I don't feel like I was ever truly alive, ever something that could really be called a person.

Oh, I'm home.

God it's so cold out. It's like the wind is trying to bite me through my coat. I really wish our heating worked, but I've given up trying to fight for it a long time ago.

I can hear the music from here. I swear to fucking god if she's throwing another party I'm going to scream. She can't keep doing this, she really can't.

I fumble with my keys because it's too cold in the hallway, and I struggle with the lock because it hasn't been replaced in over a decade. This is the right key, and I keep trying to turn it, but it won't unlock and my fingers are starting to hurt.

Today needs to end. Please. I just need to stop, after everything, I just need things to stop and let me be still for a single fucking-

Finally.

I leave the door open for as little time as I can. I don't even take my coat off before I march into the living room. She's there, on the couch with more friends than I've ever met. They're all smiling, talking with each other, and having fun. They're smoking weed inside.

I need to stop looking at the one sitting on the arm of the couch, she's not important right now.

"Hey, what the fuck?!" I raise my voice to be heard over the music and drunken ramblings. "I told you that you can't keep doing this, I'M the one who gets in shit for this with the landlord!"

She looked around her, gauging her guests' reactions. She forces a timid smile. "Hey, you don't have to make a big deal out of this, alright? Nothing's gonna happen if nobody tells on us, so just relax." She turns away from me, back to the others. To the woman on the arm of the couch. My roommate falls into this sort of drunken fawning, trying to excuse my behaviour, but that woman on the arm of the couch doesn't join in with them exaggeratedly rolling their eyes or shooing me away.

"I'm not the bad guy here! You're the one who keeps...!" I wince, bringing a hand over my eyes as I recoil into the door frame. It's so loud. "Fuck it, I can't do this with you, I'm going to bed." I turn and leave and slam my door and lock it. She turns the music back up. I'm ordering food and going to sleep.

After I stop crying.

. . . . .

"Do you like your life, darling?"

I'm floating. I'm naked. I can't tell where I am. I don't think I'm anywhere.

"...No."

The woman from earlier. I couldn't stop thinking about her all night. The way she looked, how she carried herself, it was just stuck in my brain.

She's so... big. She's towering over me. I'm like a toy, barely up to her shins.

This isn't a dream. She's there. I can feel her in front of me, almost more real than being awake. I've never been more lucid before.

"Such a poor thing..." She looks so sad. For me?

She's kneeling. "Let me take all that hurt away. I've always wanted nothing more than to help someone like you live the life they deserve." I should be scared. I shouldn't trust her. "I already know you'd make such a good doll~"

I look down at my body. It's fluctuating, moving in and out as I look at myself. My torso is flat and wooden like a marionette, but with each breath in it expands with cloth instead of skin. I can feel the seems of my stitches, the plastic of my joints, the clattering of my porcelain, all at once. It feels... welcome.

She's reaching for me. I know I should flinch, I should be scared of her crushing me as she wraps her hands around me like a doll, but I can't even remember what such a distrust would feel like. She's pulling me to eye level.

Why does her touch feel so... nice?

I feel a breach, like I've just come up for air. I can feel my soul hack and sputter, and finally begin to breathe. I've never felt so light, so emptied. Everything disgusting inside of myself was drained away. Have I been drowning all this time?

"Meet me whenever you're ready, darling." I know where she means. I see her manor, grand and sprawling, but tucked away just out of sight. I can see it so perfectly. "I'll be waiting for you there."

Her hands start to loosen, and I start to fall, further and further away from Miss.

I inhale sharply, way too deeply, as I wake up. It feels like I'm gasping for air. My whole body... hurts is the wrong word, there's a heavy rawness pulsating through me. It's not the heaviness normally in my chest. I'm in a puddle of sweat. I can feel my heartbeat behind my eyes.

My phone says it's 4:37 am. I don't care. I need to see her.

. . . . .

It's a blur. I'm on autopilot, too wired to think. This doesn't feel like before, this isn't the fog. This is pure intention.

I find myself in my car, driving to her. I know where to go, I know. I need to get there. I can't afford to waste any time.

I leave my car parked on a dirt road and wander into the forest just as the sun starts to rise. I didn't bother grabbing anything I didn't need to get here, and I left what i did grab in the car anyway. I didn't even take the keys out of the ignition. Whatever happens, I'm not coming back.

It's a few minutes of walking from the road to her manor. I have plenty of time to reconsider. It's not too late to go back. I'm afraid, of course. My self-preservation is trying to restrain me by my neck. But every time I think about giving into that fear, that complacency stopping me from stepping into the unknown, the idea of returning to what was... I keep walking. I couldn't explain why. Too much momentum, too heavy to bother stopping.

I'm here. Oh god, this is really happening. I lean against the house on an outstretched arm as I stare at the front door. It's thick and wooden, like something from a fairy tale. I close my eyes, take a deep breath, and raise a fist. She opens the door before I can knock.

This is really happening.

"Oh, I'm so happy you came, darling!" She quickly reaches an arm around me and ushers me through the door. "And so quick, too! I knew I made the right choice."

She sits me down on the couch and disappears just a room away. Before I can even admire the decor, she returns with two glasses, and a jug of iced tea. She sits down beside me, pours herself a glass, and sets the jug out of my reach.

She takes a swig of her drink, leaning back and swirling it in her cup. She stretches her arm across the back of the couch. I could cuddle up to her so easily, and I've never before felt this tempted to do that with someone. "Tell me what you know about dolls."

I feel something I've never felt before. Just a little, just enough.

"U-uh..." I try to gather everything I can. I don't know why I'm so caught off guard by the question, I came here for a reason. But saying it out loud, actually articulating these feelings, is something totally foreign.

"A doll is like a person, but... not." I take a deep breath. I feel like I'm standing in front of a stadium of thousands. "Witches use their magic to turn people into dolls so they can have servants. And... there are rules to being a doll, like how you have to call yourself an object, and do everything you're told."

I look at her for approval. She's waiting for me to continue. "Am I gonna be a doll?"

The witch almost... melts. She has such a kind, compassionate smile. She sets her drink down and turns her body to face me as much as she can. "Do you want to be a doll, darling?"

"I... I mean, I, uh..." I have never felt more like prey. Why is my face so warm? I'd do anything for her.

She reaches out and takes my hands, that I was holding up to my chest defensively. I leave them limp, just letting her grab them. I feel my shoulders start to lower just a little bit. She's so warm.

"Dolls are empty spaces shaped like people." She teaches me. "Dolls are objects that are obedient and docile. There's a special feeling they have called stillness, where your thoughts go away and you just feel happy." She starts to smile, a tender eagerness. "Can you feel it now?"

I feel it. I feel it. I feel it, I feel it. The stillness. She's making me still. It's gone. I don't feel heavy. I'm empty in such a wonderful way. I feel like I could float through the breeze for the rest of my life and be perfectly happy. Like I could do anything, and I would be happy. Is this what life was supposed to feel like? All this time?

"It's a big decision, darling." Her voice is so... magical. It's calming, it's exciting, it's everything to me. "This can only happen if you want it to. Think about your old life, everything you'll leave behind. This is your last chance."

I think about being a human. I think about everything that comes with being a human, the things I'll lose. My autonomy, my identity, things I was never granted in the first place. The privilege of destroying my self just a little every day, all to save myself the trouble of feeling. More than anything, that disgusting heavy feeling, the filth so deeply compacted inside me I thought it was inherent to being.

"Y... y-yes... yes, I want to be a doll!" I'm smiling so wide. Crying hasn't felt this good in a long, long time.

The witch smiles back at me. She pulls me into her, hugging me so tenderly. She's soft, and warm, and so many things.

"You're going to become such a good doll."

Good doll. I can finally feel good.

[tache-noire]

gc2b is bad BECAUSE of the rigid front panel. it's DANGEROUS. I have a nb cousin I spoke to at the family christmas party this year, and they told me they had just bought a gc2b binder and yes, it makes their chest flat. but they also CAN'T BREATHE. That rigid front panel is the reason you don't use tape and bandages to bind-- you NEED stretch because your ribcage needs to expand so that you can breathe. You need stretch so that the rest of your body can bend and move without looking like you have a piece of cardboard under your clothes.

GC2B goes as far as to say that their binders are safe to exercise and even swim in, and that's a complete crock of shit that's going to get people hurt. My cousin nearly fainted in PE because they couldn't breathe in it.

And my cousin is very thin. you are COMPLETELY fucked if you're wearing anything above a large. I just bought one of their half binders, put it on, and immediately put it back in the bag to return it. Like most clothing manufacturers, GC2B doesn't actually put any thought or effort into creating plus sized options, there's no consideration for how larger bodies are built and shaped and most importantly, how gravity affects them. What happens when you take your standard size-- made for a medium with, say, C-cup breasts-- and just scale it up width-wise and call it a day? Every fat person with large breasts than hang lower has them spill out the bottom of the binder. The only way to counteract this is to push them up higher-- which completely defeats the purpose because it gives you noticable cleavage and a mono-boob. Not to mention, the extra fat and skin spills out of the arm holes and chafes, and you get dog-earing from that rigid, no-stretch panel in the front. And as soon as you move around even a little bit, your breasts will fall right back down, and you'll have to shove your hand up under your shirt to put them back.

And of course, the vast majority of fat people are not shaped like flat featureless cylinders. That's the shape you'll get from that rigid panel, it looks fucking weird and everyone can tell you're wearing some kind of shapewear.

You know what I've worn for over three years, gone to concerts in, gone to the gym in, ridden a bike, jumped around, lifted weights in and even SLEPT in extremely comfortably, all with an extremely masculine silhouette?

An underworks binder. I had issues with my old one riding up too-- because I bought one of their classic ones that was a size too small, and refused to replace it because I figured smaller = binds better. It doesn't, it's just uncomfortable. If you get a binder and it rolls up, get a larger size.

My tip top recommendation is their cotton binders. They only come in black and white, but like I said, they're so comfortable you can sleep in them. I have one that's actually a size larger than I need, because I was worried about it being uncomfortable, and it binds perfectly. I'm a fat man, even if I was cis, I'd have tits. I still have a little bit of tit in this binder, but it's a masculine amount for my size. And more importantly (for me personally), it hugs my belly into a taut, round shape, which is more masculine-looking than the very soft loose fat I have naturally. (cis men generally develop hard abdominal fat more easily)

Underworks has been in the business of masculine shapewear for DECADES. Their entire business is built on reducing gynecomastia. They know what they're doing. They know what cis men want to see and what they consider gender-affirming for their bodies, and there's no difference between that and what will help trans men pass.

the sad thing is, I can find good reviews for GC2B from several years ago. The bad ones are relatively new. They USED to be good, and it seems that their quality has taken a nosedive.

edit: also, underworks cotton binders are literally the same damn price as GC2B's bullshit. You're not even getting a better deal or anything.

edit 2: forgot to mention, the only way i was able to get the half binder to fit even remotely well was to put it on backwards.

i know people rag on gc2b but. i don't really get why? i have like 5 underworks binders of various size and model and none of them bind well on me and roll up constantly. gc2b requires adjustment every now and then but that's normal for any garment. but binders with a stiffened front panel are binding, all stretch with no solid panel just acts like a shitty sports bra. i don't get it. half convinced people just say shit because they got One with mid stitching and decided all of their product must be just like that, and that underworks must have superior binding because they make things for cis men. which i don't think is true for comfort or binding.

I don't honestly know either- I haven't bought a binder for about 3 years and before that for another 3 or 4, so I can only say that it was a recent development that I see people complaining about the quality of gc2b. They've always worked for me but yes, they do fall apart after a while. When I started binding, it was a known thing that you would be replacing your binder yearly, and maybe if you took very good care of your binder you could get away with every 2-3, with specific care notes on how to make your binders last longer. It does make me wonder if somewhere we lost track of that.

I do know some of the people complaining about gc2b are well outside of the sizes the company makes their clothes in. This is a fair complaint in my mind because I am not a particularly big person (and my doctor called me obese at my last weight check due to BMI) and I am already in the XXL/XXXL range. I do think that a restructuring of sizing and also offering larger sizing should happen. And I again wonder if that is part of the problem- people squeezing themselves into a binder that is inherently too small for them is absolutely going to wear that binder out way quicker.

Another complaint I've seen is that they don't bind well enough for the particularly well endowed. I have fairly medium sized breasts myself so I can't speak to that on personal experience, but I do have a friend who is at the top end of gc2b's range who has breasts that are both larger and saggier than mine and he is quite satisfied with his binding experience. That being said, anyone larger than him would be SOL, so again, it does sound like there is a significant sizing problem.

I do have a friend who prefers the old style of underworks which had a binding front panel the full length of the garment, which has since been deemed unsafe and discontinued en mass for most binder companies. He had a dysphoria related panic attack meltdown the first time he put on a gc2b because the front panel being only chest-length felt far too much like a bra to him. He has fairly significant chest dysphoria and he also has been binding since he started growing breasts during puberty, and is significantly older than me, so I've long chalked that up to different world and dysphoria. He has since gotten used to the gc2b style and still wears them, but it was quite startling for him.

If I weren't having top surgery hopefully soon, I would still be buying gc2b, and when I buy binders for trans guys starting out I buy from that company unless they tell me a different company preference. Like I offered to buy someone a shapeshifters a few months ago because he was saying that he wouldn't fit a gc2b and wanted to bind and had a specific binder in mind. But otherwise if someone who I know fits in their size range asks, I still refer people to that company, because I and my friends have not had problems.

[inkskinned]

no, but really, we need to talk about the casual objectification that has become the fallback discourse of the internet: if you're pretty and dressed nicely, you're a slut. and if you're even vaguely outside of their body standard, you're fucking disgusting.

too-frequently, people position sex workers as being "the problem". they sneer you're addicted to pornography, you don't know what a real woman looks like. but real women are in pornography. the real bodies on display are not the issue here: the issue is that other people feel extremely confident when commenting on someone's physique.

2000's super-thin is slowly worming its way back into the public ideal. recently i saw someone get told to "go for a run", despite the fact she was on the thinner side of average. not that it would ever be appropriate to say that: but it's kind of like sticker shock when you see it. people think that is fat? holy shit. do they just have no idea about things?

but what are you going to do about it? that's the problem, right. because chances are - you're a normal person. we can say normalize carrying fat on your body, but we are not the billion-dollar diet industry. we are not the billion-dollar fashion industry. we are just, like. people. who are trying to make content on the internet, without being treated shittily.

as someone who has been on both sides of things: you are treated better when you are thin and pretty. this is statistically correct. i am not saying that you cannot be bullied for being thin; i'm saying there are objective institutional biases against certain bodytypes. there are videos of men and women who lost weight all saying: i now know for a fact exactly how much worse you're treated. in the comments, some asshole inevitably says something akin to you deserved to be dehumanized when you were fat.

which means that ... the easiest thing to do is be pretty and thin. it is the path of least resistance, because of course it is, because any time you post a picture of yourself without a thigh gap, someone immediately comments something like you need to try a diet.

the other half is also dehumanizing though, huh, just in a different way. when i put on makeup and nice clothes, i am told i slept my way to the top as a professional. do you know how many women in STEM have told me they purposefully dress to "unimpress" because they already struggle to be taken seriously and if they're ever considered pretty - it for some reason takes away from their authority.

so they make it seem like it's your fault. you, existing in a body - it's your fault! if you didn't want shitty comments, don't have a body. they position us against each other like chess pieces; vying for male attention we don't even need.

and i can be an authority on this unless you think i'm fat and unattractive. when i am pretty and thin, i'm an activist. when i am just a normal person who makes a good point: i am immediately dismissed. nobody fucking believes you if you're not seen as attractive. you literally lose value. you cease to exist.

but the whole time, it feels like - is anyone actually grounded the fuck in reality? the line of "pretty and thin" keeps shifting. nobody seems to understand what "a normal weight" even looks like, because it's not something that exists - you cannot tell a person's health by looking at their body. even if you think you could tell that, even if you're sure a person is dangerously overweight - people are not your dolls. they do not need to be dressed up or displayed properly to soothe your aesthetics. you aren't concerned for them, you're stealing their agency. you don't get to say if they're "allowed" to take pictures and post them on the internet - you don't get to tell them how to exist.

people hide behind "the obesity epidemic" without any actual qualifications. they crow things about "normalizing unhealthiness".

but it's bullshit. i have visible abs. there is a pair of parallel lines on my body, even when i'm relaxed; where my obliques meet my abdominal wall. i am proud of this because it means i'm strong, because i overcame an eating disorder only to be ripped as fuck. it is genetic and physical luck that i even get any definition, i'm pleased as punch.

but it does mean that my abdominal wall sticks out a little bit. the other day i posted a video of myself dancing, and, for a moment, my shirt slipped. you could see a little bit of my stomach. i was cartwheeling to the floor. moments before this, i'd had my foot over my head.

a guy slid into my DMs. a row of vomiting emojis prefaced: you should really lose some weight before you think about dancing.

i stared at it for a long time. there was a time when i would have been triggered by this, where it would have encouraged me to starve myself. i would have ignored the fact i'm flexible, agile, good at jumping: i would have lost the weight for a stranger's passing comment. i would have found myself and my body fucking disgusting.

and for what? to please what? because why? so that he can exist in this world without an unchallenged eyeball? what would my self-hatred even accomplish? usually i write paragraphs. obviously. on this particular occasion, in this body i've been at war with for ages: i just felt exhausted.

it shouldn't be even worth saying. it shouldn't be hard to explain. all of this emotional turmoil when he cannot even comprehend the most basic truth: i am not an object on display for him.

[capricioussun]

If you've ever replied to a post and I haven't replied to you just know if I saw it I nodded sagely and then either meant to reply and completely forgot or just had nothing interesting to add. We can all hold hands and be friends on this beautiful earth

[xiii-e]

[ECHO.EXE RUNNING]

◂▸ ... hey Sally. You're right yeah, I know the basic gist I think. You take care of yourself kiddo, I can handle this.

◂▸ Alright. I'm going to go over this with as little personal input as I can manage, please just- assume at any given point that I think what happened was fucked and miserable and never should have come to pass. It's an HA black op. If I make an aside every time I experience abject horror on the subject, I wouldn't get through the report. I'm just... going to talk about this stuff, the way I found it on file.

◂▸ No I am not supposed to have access to these files. I am also not supposed to be talking to any of you so just- don't worry about it.

◂▸ So. A couple decades ago, the HA Purview incorperates a new world it will come to call Port Mariut. It goes... pretty normal, for an incorperation. Despotic leader gets ousted by military force, there's a honeymoon period where people are cheering, then reality sets in that "naturalisation" is a nice word for conformity. The usual process. And, the usual process leaves the usual folks by the wayside. There's an influx of orphans who are now wards of the state, because their families went missing on either side of the "liberation" war.

◂▸ There's a few things that usually happen to war orphans, running the spectrum between humanitarian and fucked. This one was... bad. Military commander put into a position of power over the planet is one Captain James Maverick. He has a particular interest in the old Enkidu projects, has been looking for an excuse to revive them. He sees... an oppertunity, in the orphans of his new holdings.

◂▸ Justification on paper is that, as wards of the state, these orphans are subject to military service same as any prospective citizen of the Armory. Service guarentees citizenship, and all that. So, the Sekhmet project gets initialised. Couldn't tell you who rubberstamped it, that stuff was way heavier in encryption. Possible it didn't get rubberstamped at all, with the kind of guy Maverick seemed to be from the back reports.

◂▸ So, they press some McCarthy guy who's local to the planet into being their chem specialist for the op, they pick out the most promising candidates from the children they had to work with, and they start working to revive the Enkidu program. It's- I don't think details on what they did to these kids are necessary here. Lot of them are obscured anyway. Suffice to say, it involved a lot of real strenuous training, bio-mods of dubious ethical standards, and chems from a young age.

◂▸ There was a high flunk rate when the program kicked off about a decade into it. Lots of... failures. Kids whose bodies or minds didn't stand up to the machinary they were being thrown into. Time the project stabalised there was only one of the original subjects left. According to all records I could find, it drove the Captain nuts trying to figure out why that specific pilot made it through, while other more promising candidates flunked. So he got stupid.

◂▸ Ordered an op with bad odds, as a testing ground. Made a real stupid call regarding stims. Predictably, things went badly and... well, that pilot went awol. Far as the top brass were concerned, it was time to write the whole thing off. Union started poking around in the whole business not long after this op went bad to boot so... it got scrubbed. They love doing that, with embarrasments.

◂▸ ... that's about it for the story. Best I know, the Captain and most of the researchers involved got shipped out to a state prison. Don't know if they're still being put to work or not, nothing of the date from out there gets onto the main databases. But, well- they're pretty behind bars already, Veta. Don't know if there are many skulls left to crack on this one.

◂▸ Xie's still... they're not back yet. Sounds like the eggheads wanted to take a detour through a spaceport or something. I'll tell them when they get back, if you don't mind Sally. If... if they'll let me. Sometimes they don't want to know about the kind of stuff I poke around in during my own time, they get worried about getting us both into trouble. I think they might give a little on this one though. They care about you, a lot. I think if I mention you said you wanted to share, they might cave.

◂▸ Alright. Hope you're doing okay kiddo

[ HELIOS-8 ]

//

Maybe I’m just stupid, but…

Why? Why would you put yourself in an Enkidu, of all frames? You talk about how it’s a choice, but I can’t understand why anyone would make that choice. Can you explain? I’m genuinely curious.

//Ashlyn

well thats the thing. i didnt. i gott forced.

when i finaly gott free i stayed in SLAG KITTY cause shes all ive ever nown. shes part of me. i NEED her. i cant change that part of me.

if u wanna know y some1 with a CHOICE would wanna pilot 1, ask sharko or slaggy. some peopl r born 4 it...