#except we don't have anything like that here

[peachesofteal]

Through Me (The Flood) - secret baby fic Simon Riley/female reader This is the last part before the epilogue

“Where are we going?”

“It’s a surprise honey, remember?” You nod, but your eyes stay glued to the windshield, tracking the raindrops sliding on and off the glass. “Hey,” he reaches for your hand, pulling it into his grasp, “it’s okay. You’re safe.”

“I’m with you.” You repeat the mantra, the one you repeat in the shower, in bed, in the living room. I’m safe. I’m with you. 

He wants to look away from the road so badly long enough to see your eyes, really see them. It’s how he knows where you are, if you’re there, or here, or somewhere else. Just in case, he reminds you. “The kids are with Gaz and Cami. Soap is sleeping in the guest room. They’re all together, and they’re safe.” You nod again, but answer as a robot.

“They’re safe.” He can’t do it. He pulls the car over and you turn in alarm, watching as he steps around to the passenger side door and pulls it wide, dropping to his knee.

“Look at me-“

“You’re getting wet!” You sputter, grabbing at his jacket, but he stills you.

“Look at me, mama.” Your eyes are full of tears, and he cups your cheek. “Where are you?” Your lip wobbles.

“That room.” He pries your fingers open and places your palm over his chest.

“What’s that?”

“Your heart.”

“Your heart, sweet girl. It’s yours. Count them for me.” You shake your head, clenching your eyes shut, and he squeezes your knee. “Deep breath. Count them.”

“O-one, two, thr-we, four…” he does it with you, quietly, supporting, but not coaching. Not leading. You have to do it, you have to bring yourself back. “F-ive… five, six, seven, eight, nine…” each beat steadies your voice until you’re sitting a little straighter, breathing a little deeper.

“There she is. There’s my girl.” He wipes a tear from your cheek, “that’s it.”

“Ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen…” you reach twenty five, and then give him a nod. He is thoroughly soaked now, but who cares. It’s not even close to what matters.

“Where are you?” He presses a slow kiss to your forehead.

“I’m here, with you.” You meet his gaze, clear and focused, and he nods.

“Okay.”

“You could have told me.”

“Not as fun, mama, I wanted it to be a surprise.” You’re standing in the middle of the room, looking around, smiling. It’s the same room he brought you to years ago. The room where he put the ring on your finger, the room you told him you’d spend the rest of your life, his life, together. The curtains are the same, the decor, even the bedspread.

“Si,” your voice wavers, and he pulls you into his arms, holding you against his chest.

“Are you happy?”

“Yes.”

You're surprisingly not nervous at all, though he's not that shocked. You have a few tattoos, medium sized, black and grey like his. No sleeves or anything that extensive, but you picked up a small collection during your travels. 

"Wait... are you serious?" You squeak, eyeing the chair and then the guy sitting beside it, Mark, the same guy that's done almost all of Simon's work. Simon's still not sure how he convinced him to come out here and do this, but he suspects the sentimental piece of this occasion had a lot to do with it. "What... what is it?" Simon glances at him, and then nods, holding his breath as he pulls the stencil out of the binder to lay it flat in front of you. 

It's a ring. Black and grey to match your other tattoos, but the same shape, band, everything, as the one you lost. Except- 

The stone frames three constellations. Orion, Phoenix and... "Lyra." You whisper, tracing the line work. You look up at him with tears in your eyes. "Orpheus and Eurydice." 

"Everyone says it's a tragedy, y'know? That he failed. But those people have never felt the way I feel about you." His throat is unbearably tight, and he swallows to keep it together. "They don't know how I'd go to hell to bring you home, they don't know how desperate I'd be to look back and and make sure you're still there with me," he breathes deep through his nose, chasing away the tidal wave rising in his chest. Mark, thankfully, has decided to pretend to be busy with something else. "They don't know how I'd let myself be ripped apart just to see you again. To spend eternity with you." 

"Simon..." 

"You don't have to do it," he rushes out, squeezing your hand, "just say so, and we'll leave. I won't be mad." You reach for him, tugging him close by his wrist and standing up on your tiptoes, trying to bury your face in his neck, seeking you safe space. 

"I love you. I love... I love you." He brushes your tears away. "I want it. Yes, of course. I want it." 

"You sure?" You cast one last look at the drawing, and nod. 

"Eternity with you." He smiles. 

"Eternity." 

[nosyp]

Hii could we possibly get a smut w Cho Hyun-Ju x f!reader where were basically a person who loves to joke around n chill w everybody else but when it comes to Hyun, we get all distracted, stutter around her, n js listen to everything she says not even realizing that we have a crush on her until someone brings it up n were like “oh crap wtf im being weak😥” which causes us to avoid her n be in denial of having feelings cuz we wanna seem focused n nonchalant which everyone notices especially her n that causes her to corner us n lead to smth spicy? Pls n thank u!!

THIS IS SO GOOOODDDD!! I'm so sorry but errrr I'm trying to figure myeslf out rn so not much smut 😔😔😔😔😔

Title = Flustered and Fallen

Warnings = mdni, kissing, touching, smut interrupted by guard sorry hehe🥺

Pairing = Cho Hyun Ju x fem!reader

Summary = You're confident around everyone, except Hyun-Ju. When you realize you have feelings for her, you start avoiding her. But Hyun-Ju won't let you hide anymore, and things get more intense when she corners you one day.

Word count = 1.5k

You were the kind of person who could easily get along with just about anyone. Your relaxed attitude and carefree nature made you a natural at making friends. A well-timed joke here, a playful comment there, everyone loved how effortlessly you could lighten the mood. The other players would often gravitate toward you, laughing at your banter or joining in on the fun. You could talk about anything and everything, and no matter the chaos of the games, your personality never once changed. But that was before she came into the picture.

It started to shift when Player 120, Hyun-Ju, entered the room. At first, you told yourself it was nothing. She was just another player, just another person to interact with. But then, it happened. The moment her gaze met yours, something inside you flipped and you found yourself stumbling over your words, losing track of sentences mid-conversation. Where you usually spoke effortlessly, now you fumbled, feeling like an idiot each time she looked at you.

"H-hey," you tried to joke, but instead it came out broken up and stuttered. "Don't te… tell me you're gonna– gonna be the quiet one in this group? You got–gotta keep up with all the st– stuff happening! Or else you'll be left behind."

But as soon as she turned her head toward you, her lips curling into the faintest of smiles, you suddenly felt heat rush to your face. Why was this so hard? Why was your usual confidence suddenly evaporating?

"Maybe I'm just waiting for you to catch up," she teased, her voice calm yet somehow sent shivers up your spine.

You tried to laugh it off, but all you could manage was a nervous chuckle, blinking awkwardly as you avoided her gaze. It was her. Her presence. It made everything feel different. You’d quickly become aware of how much you started paying attention to the way she spoke, the way her posture shifted. Every time she moved, you couldn't stop watching her.

Even when you were surrounded by others, your mind would drift back to her. You'd notice how effortlessly she handled herself in the games, how she made every action seem so smooth, and how you couldn't seem to focus when she was near. Unlike the playful, relaxed version of yourself you showed everyone else, with Hyun-Ju, you were clumsy. Awkward even. You couldn’t even make eye contact for more than a second without feeling your chest tighten.

One day, after another awkward moment where you fumbled a sentence in front of her, your friend nudged you with a grin. "You good, [Y/N]?" he asked, eyeing your flushed face. "You look like you're about to pass out every time Hyun-Ju speaks."

"Wh-what?" you stammered, shaking your head. "I'm fine, just—" You trailed off, trying to brush it off like it was nothing. You glanced at Hyun-Ju quickly, who was talking to someone else. The sight of her made your heart race again.

She raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying your act. "Come on, I’ve never seen you act like this before. You’ve got a thing for her, don’t you?"

Your throat went dry, and you could feel your heart start to pound harder. "No, no! I don’t—" you sputtered, but it was too late. The realization hit you like a ton of bricks, hard. You did. You had a crush on Hyun-Ju. You weren’t sure when it happened, but now that it had settled in your mind, it was all you could think about. Your attempts to deny it only made things worse, making you avoid her more.

It didn’t take long for others to start noticing, either. You went out of your way to be anywhere but near Hyun-Ju, trying to appear uninterested. But every time she walked into the room, you found yourself stiffening, words faltering, and cool exterior melting.

“[Y/N]?” a voice cut through your thoughts. It was Hyun-Ju’s voice, calm as usual. You froze, immediately standing up to look anywhere but at her. “Everything okay?”

You forced a smile, trying your best to act like you were just as unaffected as you always had been. "Yeah, just—just thinking."

But Hyun-Ju was no fool. She saw right through your act, and a smirk tugged at her lips. "You’ve been acting strange lately. Is it something I did?" Her tone was teasing, but there was something in her eyes that made you shiver, an unreadable look that seemed to look straight through you.

Your heart raced, and your mouth went dry. “I— uh— I’m fine," you managed, turning away quickly to avoid her gaze. You didn’t know how to handle this. You didn’t want to admit it, but being near her made you feel weak, and you hated it. You hated how powerless she made you feel.

Hyun-Ju seemed to notice your discomfort, and the intensity in her eyes shifted. There was a hint of amusement now, mixed with something else. Something more dangerous. She leaned closer, her voice dropping low. 

“You can’t hide it forever, you know. I know what you’re feeling, and I don’t mind.” Her breath was warm against your ear, and your breath caught in your throat. Then she got even closer. “In fact, I actually like it.”

Your heart skipped a beat. It was too much. Too intense. You needed to get away.

“I’m just... I’m just focused on the game,” you stammered, attempting to walk away quickly. But Hyun-Ju’s hand caught your wrist, her grip firm but not painful. “Don't think you can run away from this, [Y/N]. Not now.”

And in that moment, you realized you were in deep. She wasn’t going to let you pretend any longer.

—

Fuck. How did you get into this situation? Somehow you were now sharing a stall with her.

“I– I– don’t know why I act weird around you okay?!” you say, trying to give excuses for your weird behaviour. 

“You sure? Everyone else seems to notice and you know why.” she says, continuing to pressure you for answers. “I’m not here for your excuses.”

You felt the walls closing in on you, heart racing in your chest. Her gaze was unrelenting, eyes narrowing as she stepped closer, her presence so overwhelming it made your breath get stuck in your throat.

"I–I don't know what you want me to say..." you stammer, feeling your confidence slowly slipping away under her intense stare. The space between you two was so tight now, your skin prickling with the closeness.

"You don't know?" she murmured, her voice soft but with an edge that made your body tense. "You really don't know why you're acting like this?"

You couldn't meet her gaze. You wanted to look away, to step back, but your feet seemed frozen to the ground. She moved again, just an inch from you now, her breath warm against your ear as she whispered, "I think you do."

Her hand brushed against yours, fingers barely grazing your skin, and you couldn't stop the shiver that ran down your spine. The heat between you two was almost suffocating, and every inch of your body screamed to close the gap.

But instead, you froze. What was she waiting for? What did she expect from you?

Your eyes were starting to hurt, maybe from the light above, maybe from the tears you were holding back. You didn’t know. 

Your thoughts were quickly interrupted by a pair of lips suddenly being pressed against yours. The kiss was so tender… so loving. Were you going crazy? Maybe you were. Involuntarily, you leaned into the kiss, further deepening it, letting you taste her tongue as she tasted yours. Then, she pulled away, ending your sweet moment.

"You're not like the others, y’know…" she murmured, her voice low and soft. With every single word, you felt like you were going even crazier. "You make me want to do things I haven’t done in a long time."

Your heart skipped a beat at her words. Was she… was she admitting something? Or was this another game? You couldn’t be sure, but the way she looked at you told you everything you needed to know.

"I…" Your voice cracked, the words slipping out of your mouth before you could stop them. "I don’t know what it is about you, but I can’t stop thinking about you." you finally admitted. 

She only lets out a chuckle until she lets her lips crash onto yours again. She sucks, nibbles on your lip as her hands roam around your body. The warmth of her touch was solicitous, showing how much she loved you. 

Almost automatically, you started leaning into her touch more, eager to feel more of her. The heat in your body gradually increases the more you feel her fingertips dragging around your body.  

Then– the door slams open and reveals a pink guard. Fuck no.

“Player 120. Player [number]. Come out. Time is up.”

[insidekatmind]

Time together~Levi Colwill

Wearning: +18,smut

A light summer breeze enveloped the hotel terrace, where the blue pool seemed to merge with the clear sky. The water reflected the rays of the late afternoon sun, creating plays of light on the calm surface. There was no one there, just the two of you. A moment of peace after weeks of hectic life.

You sat on one of the loungers, while Levi approached the pool, resting a hand on the edge. He was wearing a pair of dark sunglasses, but his gaze was unmistakable: intense, protective, always attentive to your every move.

“I still can’t believe we’re here,” you said, smiling. “It feels so surreal, after everything that’s happened.”

Levi slowly turned to you, taking off his sunglasses. “It’s surreal because we never stop. We’re always in a rush. But now… we can finally breathe.” He leaned towards the water and dipped his hand in, running it over the surface. “This is what we needed.”

You stood up from the lounger and walked over to him. “You really need to relax, you know? You’ve been so tense lately.”

Levi sighed, looking at you. “It’s hard to turn your mind off, you know.” He walked over to you and took your hands, lacing his fingers through yours. “But… with you here… maybe I can.”

“Just maybe?” you smiled teasingly.

He raised an eyebrow, that gesture you loved. “Don’t make me make promises I can’t keep.”

You laughed, pulling him toward the pool. “Then let’s see if I can at least make you relax a little. Get in the water with me.”

Levi hesitated for a moment, then slowly took off his shirt, revealing his sculpted body and battle scars. His gray eyes locked with yours as he slipped into the water.

“Come on,” he said in that deep voice that made you shiver.

You dove in next to him, the cool water enveloping you. When you surfaced, Levi was inches away from you, his hands sliding down your sides.

"So," he murmured, with a hint of a smile, "what did you have in mind to make me relax?"

You laughed, resting your forehead against his. "I was thinking of something simple. Like… just staying here, not talking about anything. Just you and me."

Levi nodded slowly, his gaze softening. "You know, I don't mind at all. That's all I need, just this."

The two of you stayed like that, wrapped in silence, as the sun set and the shadows lengthened.

After a while, Levi spoke again. "Why Barcelona?"

You bit your lip, thoughtfully. "Because I wanted us to have a place that was just ours. A memory that belongs only to us. And then… I've always dreamed of getting lost with you in a city full of life."

Levi was silent for a moment, then pulled you close, holding you tightly. "Then losing you will be my priority."

He looked into your eyes, and in that moment the whole world seemed to fade away. "It doesn't matter where we go," he said softly. "As long as you're with me, anywhere is fine."

You stayed like that, floating in the water, with the Barcelona sky darkening above you and the distant sound of the waves rocking you.

It was perfect. It was yours.

"You look gorgeous, as always," he said, his voice low and slightly hoarse. His fingers traced the outline of your swimsuit, appreciating your curves. "This swimsuit really suits you."

You laugh and hug him kissing his jaw "I put it on for you" you say seductive

Levi closed his eyes as you kissed his jaw, feeling your soft lips against his skin. He pulled you close, wrapping an arm around your waist.

"Is that right?" he murmured, a grin on his lips. "You want to tempt me, huh?"

"yes love, all for you" you reply and kiss him

Levi growled low in his throat, your comment making him lose all restraint. He grabbed your waist and pulled you tight against him, claiming your mouth in a hard, hungary kiss.

"You know how to drive me crazy," he breathed against your skin, his hands gripping you possessively.

you smile and kiss his neck "you know love we had sex everywhere except in Barcelona in the pool" you say seductively

Levi's eyes darkened with desire as your words sent a shiver down his spine. He grabbed hold of you tightly, his fingers digging into your flesh.

"You're right, we haven't done that yet..." he murmured, his gaze burning into you. "And it's a shame, because that means we haven't marked the pool as ours yet…"

You smile "so why don't we fix it?"

Levi couldn't help but grin, his eyes flashing with a dangerous glint. "You're damn right we will," he growled, his hands roaming over your body. "We're going to make this pool ours."

He picked you up, holding you close, and walked to the edge of the pool, "You're getting cold, love. Let me warm you," he said, laying you down on a lounger nearby.

you smiled feeling levi's hands touching your thighs. you got off the edge and went back into the water lacing your hands on his neck as you lowered his swimsuit.

Levi's heart hammered in his chest as you came back to him, your hands encircling his neck. He groaned softly as you began to pull down his swimsuit, relishing the touch of your skin against his.

"You're impatient," he said with a cocky smirk, pulling you close.

"I can't resist you" you say and kiss his neck while you move your swimsuit a little to let his cock enter inside you

Levi's breath caught in his throat as you kissed his neck. He could feel your body rubbing against his, his self control hanging by a thread. "You tease," he growled, his hands running down your body, "always pushing my limits."

As he felt your skin against his, he groaned softly, his body instantly responding to yours. "You drive me crazy, you know that?""You're perfect," he murmured, his breaths coming in ragged gasps. "You're mine. All mine."

He moved faster, taking you harder, the water sloshing around you. "I need more... I need more " with every word he said his thrusts increased and your moans became louder and louder

Levi groaned lowly as your hips moved against him, your kisses igniting a fire within him. His hands gripped your body tightly, guiding you, his touch possessive and hungry.

"God, you feel so good," he whispered, his voice hoarse. "It's like you were made for me."

you moan and put your nails on his back "you always fill me up so good"

Levi groaned as you clawed at his back, your words driving him wild. "You're not the only one who's filled," he growled, his voice rough with desire. "With you… I can never get enough."

He moved his hips against you, pressing himself against you, his body burning with a primal need for you. "I can never… get enough of you," he repeated, his lips finding yours in a fevered kiss.

The sounds of the water moving and your moans filled the empty pool, drowning out any other noise. With the city of Barcelona spread out before you, the only thing that mattered was the two of you, lost in a passionate sex

Levi could feel himself nearing the edge, his body taut with need.

"You're perfect," he murmured, his breaths coming in ragged gasps. "You're mine. All mine."

He moved faster, taking you harder, the water sloshing around you. "I need more... I need more " with every word he said his thrusts increased and your moans became louder and louder.

Levi groaned as he heard your moans growing louder, knowing he was pushing you to the edge. He continued to move, his body responding to yours, his need for you driving him on.

"You're close," he murmured, his voice hoarse. "I can feel it. I can feel you "You're squeezing my dick" he started fucking you in the pool and you started screaming.

Levi groaned as he heard your moans growing louder, knowing he was pushing you to the edge. He continued to move, his body responding to yours, his need for you driving him on.

Your name came out of his mouth like a whispered prayer, the sound becoming more urgent and desperate as he drew closer to his own climax.

"Please," he groaned, his body tense as he tried to hold back, "please, love, I need you. I need to feel you come for me. I need to come inside you" he murmurs and moves your swimsuit top a little and kisses your nipple

"yes baby please" you'll cry soon because of how beautiful it was. Something snapped inside him as he heard your plea, your soft words sending him over the edge. He let out a guttural moan, the sound filling the empty and he started fucking you faster which made you come but he didn't stop with the movements and started thrusting faster coming inside you.

Levi laughed breathlessly, still holding you close, his body pressed against yours. "I think we left our mark here... and not just on the pool" he replied, with a smirk. He ran a hand through his hair, trying to catch his breath.

"You're going to tire me out, love" he teased, giving you a quick kiss on the forehead.

you giggle softly and stroke his hair "better if we fix ourselves otherwise if someone comes they will see us like this" you say amused

You smile and give him a kiss on the jaw once you've adjusted yourself.

Levi smiled as you kissed his jaw, appreciating the gentle gesture. He ran a hand through his hair, his gaze drifting over your form before he spoke.

"You know," he said, a hint of mischief in his voice, "there are a lot of other places in Barcelona where we can make our mark too."

"I can't wait to discover them" you say seductively

Levi's smirk deepened as your words stoked the fire within him. "Trust me, love, there are plenty of places left for us to explore," he murmured, his gaze darkening.

He stepped closer to you, his body so close that you could feel the heat radiating off him. "And I can't wait to show you every last one."

[becausegoodheroesdeservekidneys]

Looks like I haven't. Okay, well, let's see. I'll just give highlights, but it'll be long, so let's do a readmore.

So, in mid-2022, I dared to age past about 35 and therefore started withering bodily. Of course, this is partly my fault, because I do not get enough exercise, but also (shakes fist at uncaring universe, pulls muscle in fist) Life Hates Me

So, I started getting muscle pain between the shoulder blades. In my case, this is actually one of those annoying to-avoid-one-disability-you-created-another things, because I've had problems with my lower back since I was in my mid-20s thanks to never using proper lumbar support. Therefore, my standard spot to be in my living room became the sofa that stretches away from the TV, because then I could lie on the sofa and prop my head up on the arm to watch, but that means I spent several years as a recreational candy cane and NOW HERE WE ARE. I remember desperately trying to find a massage therapist that could see me that day before I went away to Edinburgh in August that year, and there was nowhere at all available. I had to get one in Edinburgh when I arrived, which was lovely, but also about £20 more expensive, because Edinburgh.

And then! In November! Of 2022!

I must have wished really hard. Because around the corner from my house - so close I could forward roll that distance, if it weren't for, you know (gestures at body, pulls muscle in arm)... a massage parlour opened.

Except. Here's the thing.

It had a name like "Swansea Oriental Massage" or "Thai Lotus Massage" or what have you (real name not given for privacy reasons.) The kind of name that makes you go "Ah. An independent business, likely staffed by workers fresh from abroad, with a name that implies exotic women to a certain type of client. This may be entirely what it claims, but it definitely Fits a Profile."

And to be clear, I have no issues at all with it being a brothel! I truly, genuinely don't. But for obvious reasons, I do want to know if I'm booking a session with a masseuse or a sex worker, because those are very different types of happy endings.

So Steff and I tried looking them up, which became almost a game in itself. We were like "Right. It has a legitimate-looking website that offers three different types of massage: Swedish, Chinese and deep tissue, complete with a disclaimer that deep tissue is not recommended unless you have good pain tolerance. A brothel would probably use more euphemisms, right? Intimate massage, full personal, that sort of thing. But maybe those are euphemisms?"

And then we'd be like "We have found a review. It says 'Very relaxing, beautiful girl.' That could either be a clumsily worded review from a gross orientalist marvelling about the massage, or it could be a subtle nod to them being sex workers."

And we went back and forth for weeks, until in the end I was like, no, enough. I am in pain. There must be someone, in any brothel, who can give a genuine massage - if you hide behind the phrase 'massage parlour', you MUST get people turning up occasionally looking for a back, neck and shoulders. It's the seamstress/needlewoman thing in Pratchett. They must be able to go 'Tracy, this one's for you.' That's who I need. I need Tracy. I need to be able to enter and go "Trace, what it is, it's my neck - no, no, Trace, leave your clothes on. Or, don't, I don't know your process. At this point I don't care. You know what? You do you. Mash my neck, don't worry about the happy ending."

(Well, unless it's reasonably priced as an add-on. I'm bisexual and I love a bargain.)

So one particularly painful day I thought fuck it, and I rang to book.

It did not clear anything up.

"Hello!" I said, when the lovely woman on the phone answered. In the interests of avoiding embarrassment on all sides, I decided to be Very Clear. "I currently have pain in my neck and shoulders, so I'm after a massage."

"Of course!" said the nice lady. "When would you like?"

"Tonight?" I asked. "About seven? If you can fit me -"

"Of course!" she beamed. "We will see you at seven!"

And she hung up. That was it. She did not take my name, or anything further; there was no indication as to how I would make sure I could, you know, actually claim the appointment on arrival. That was it.

"Hmm," I thought.

And then the phone rang. I picked up.

"I forgot to ask!" said the woman. "Do you want a male or a female?"

This, I thought, could still very much go either way.

"Well," I said. "I don't mind. As it's for getting knots out, I suppose -"

"Ah!" she said delightedly. "A male! See you later!"

And she hung up again.

"Hmm," I thought.

And so it was that I went to the massage parlour that evening, still none the wiser, waved off by my husband telling me to take the happy ending if it's offered, because he didn't mind at all and didn't want me to feel unsatisfied. This was very kind, but also qualifies for a "He's a little confused but he's got the spirit" meme, because I cannot tell you how little I was thinking about sex and how much I was thinking about the Gordian situation in my trapezoids and the way it was making me move like a T-rex.

Anyway. I was met by a lovely man who took me to a private room, gave me a towel, and told me to call him in once I was undressed and settled on the bed. This I duly did.

And then, what followed ended up being an hour and a quarter of the best massage I have ever had in my entire fucking LIFE.

I paid for an hour, to be clear. But this guy put his hands on my shoulders, frowned, said "Hmm," and then proceeded to work me over like I was meat for a tenderiser. It wasn't sexual. I just ceased being a person in his eyes. I was just muscles to him. Flesh to sculpt. I became a personal challenge. I watched as he passed into a state of intensive hyperfocus, time slipping away from us. He was like a fucking truffle pig after those knots, Tumblrs. He found every one. I could literally hear them clicking as he pressed them.

It was also, and I cannot stress this enough, the closest I have ever come to achieving enlightenment. There were points where I thought I was no longer in residence. I think I purred.

Eventually, he remembered the time, and left so I could get dressed. Then he sat me down in a chair and spent a final bonus ten minutes on my neck and shoulders, during which we chatted. His UK name is Chris (it's not, but both his real UK and Chinese names are here redacted for obvious privacy reasons), and he told me all about how he wanted to be an architect, and how his parents were hoping he would go back to China but he likes Wales and wants to stay, and which is the best Cantonese restaurant in Swansea. It was great. Transcendent experience. I walked out pain-free for the first time in months. He told me to drink water because it would remove the toxins the massage might have unleashed, and I thought that is not true, Chris, but I will do it for you.

I got home. "It's not a brothel!" I told my waiting husband and friends. "It's a legitimate massage parlour!"

"Hurrah!" they all said. "Perhaps we should get massages too."

And so, I went weekly. One time he had to reschedule, and so I received a message saying "Hello, this is Chris the massage boy", which is the most endearing sentence anyone has ever said to me, just absolutely delightful. Such a nice guy.

And then, one day, Steff thought maybe he'd go and get a massage.

And; well.

It turns out, Tumblrs, I had drawn a conclusion from too few datapoints; it turns out, Tumblrs, if you are male, in addition to the Swedish/Chinese/deep tissue options, you also get to order off the Forbidden Menu.

I had been ushered into a room where I was given a towel, and Chris would leave and only return once I was under the towel on the bed, so that he never saw a thing. But the first major difference we discovered was that, when Steff arrived, he was taken to a room and the woman who took him in then watched him expectantly until he stripped naked in front of her.

He did so, and got on the bed. She said, "Do you want two hands? Four hands? I can bring someone in."

"Oh," said Steff. "Um. Just a massage, please."

She stared at him.

"But," she said. "You don't want...?"

She mimed, very graphically, the act of wanking him off.

"No thanks," said Steff, voice getting higher.

"No??" she said, dumbstruck.

"Just a massage, please!" squeaked Steff.

They stared at each other.

"Okay," she said after a moment. "Okay."

She gave him the massage. It was very good. He's been back a few times. He's offered the menu every time. Every time, they are baffled by his refusal.

And then tragedy struck after almost a year - Chris the massage boy became Chris the no-longer-massage boy and moved away to Cardiff. Devastating. Horrifying. I was inconsolable for months. Why do bad things happen to good people.

Which meant I started seeing the other workers there. I don't think I've ever seen the same one twice, so immediately, there's an issue of never getting to a point with anyone where they know how much pressure I like/can take or anything like that; but also, every damn one of them has been a waif of a girl I could bench press with one hand with no ability to do a proper deep tissue massage.

Mostly, this has not been a problem. They do very nice massages regardless, though it turns out they really do just wait for you to get naked in front of them, and Chris was very much an outlier in that regard. But a few months back I did get one who checked the file they apparently had on me, and got out her language translation app on her phone, and spoke into it. In English it read, "You want me to go hard? Deep?"

"Well," I said. "Just on my back, if possible?"

Her phone translated what I said into Chinese, for her to read. She nodded, and said something back, and held up the phone.

"My me is very small," it read. "But I will try."

And then what she did, Tumblrs, was channel every ounce of rage and hatred and inter-generational trauma for the British that she possessed in her heart straight into into her hands and, by extension, my me. Have you ever seen someone, like, scrub at a bloodstain that won't come out, and is going to send them to prison? Ever seen someone scrub so hard and so fast and so desperately that they start grating off their own fingertips, and yet they just keep scrubbing? Ever seen someone scrub like their life might literally be depending on it?

How I still have skin baffles me. I'm astonished she didn't buff off every mole on my back. She fucking pummelled me. And the worst part was, she didn't let up once she moved away from my back and down my legs, and I couldn't communicate that she was now going far too hard, because she didn't speak English and her magic phone app was put away, and also I'm a wimp who never tells tradespeople when I'm unhappy. It was an endurance session. I paid her £30 for it, and thanked her once she was done.

Anyway. All this brings me to today.

So I managed to jar my back by falling off a Ninja Warrior cheese-shaped board just before New Year, which, naturally, jarred right between my shoulder blades. Super painful, now passed, but the stiffness has remained and seems reluctant to leave; so, I thought, it's massage time.

And

Well

I think that was the worst massage I've ever had from that brothel.

Not bad as in painful! It was not bad as in "This is actively painful." But it has never been clearer that this girl was a sex worker cosplaying as a massage therapist, and was sort of guessing at what to do.

Like, she started on my back, and normally that's the focus of a massage. I would say you normally get about two thirds of the session on your back. Not so today. Today, in a half hour session, she spent maybe five minutes, if that, just loosely running her hands up and down my back. Just loosely. Sort of skimming her hands over the skin, if you will. A sort of extended stroke, like I was a flighty Thoroughbred.

Then she moved on, whereupon she she spent, conservatively, about TEN FULL MINUTES on the backs of my legs. Some of that was doing a sort of pressing pinch, where she was squeezing big handfuls of flesh. Some of it was a massage stroke. And the rest of it - quite a lot of it, actually - was her attempting that thing where massage therapists do the smacking with the sides of their hands, but she hadn't understood it, so it was actually about ten minutes of being softly but rigorously karate chopped on the thighs and calves.

(No overlapping strokes, mind. I appreciated the transferrable skills on display.)

Next, she told me to turn over, so I did. At this point, she attempted to put a towel over me. I'm unsure why, since I was bollock naked and had been the whole time; perhaps she wanted me to stay warm? I don't think it can have been for modesty, though, at least not entirely, because I KNOW the kitty cat was not wholly covered. I think there was a good centimetre or two of labia poking out the base, two happy little hills, peeping out at the room as the session progressed.

And progress it did, but with one change - she used absolutely zero oil to do my front. From this point onwards, this encounter was was done dry. That is probably making some of you wince, but honestly, it actually wasn't that bad, for reasons of there was very little massaging that actually required it from here on out.

She sort of pulled on my fingers first of all. Really very firmly too, one of them clicked. She started with my left arm, and pulled every finger in turn; then she raised my hand up above my elbow, pressed her thumbs into the centre, and then quite literally punched my palm. Then she laid the arm back down, held my shoulder down with one hand, and then used her other hand to grab my arm at different points to sort of half squish it, half grind it into the bed. And then she yanked on my shoulder, karate chopped a bit more on my forearm, and then that was it for Arm 1. Arm 2 was much of the same, except she added in a fun lil move where she sort of waved it about a bit from the shoulder a couple of times.

Then she went back to my legs. No more oil, so she sort of half-heartedly prodded and karate chopped my shins a bit, but to be honest I don't think her heart was in it by then.

But THEN she had a brainwave, so the last five to ten minutes were an attempt at a face massage.

Except when I say a face massage, I mean:

Well; she started well?

She did the fingertips on the temples, thumbs on the forehead, rotate gently thing, which lasted maybe 15 to 20 seconds. But then she got bored, I suspect, so she smooshed my cheeks a bit and rotated them vigorously like a cartoon character. And then she decided that I carry my stress in my forehead, so she started gently pinching my eyebrows and spider walking her fingertips left and right across them. And then she massaged my forehead for a moment

and then

she went back to karate chopping. On my forehead. Where my skull is. Repeatedly.

And like, don't get me wrong - it didn't hurt. But there's only so pleasurable and relaxing you can find "softly yet rapidly struck on the head in a rain of blows for two minutes straight."

Also, and I probably should have led with this, but she had her tits out the whole time.

Anyway it's my favourite place to go for a massage. I mean I now have to go somewhere else tonight to get my back sorted, admittedly, because I in fact carry my stress in the shoulders and not the eyebrows and they were the least attended part of me. But absolutely 10 out of 10 experience, no regrets.

Search is turning up nothing, but that's Tumblr even if there is something, so:

Have I told you guys about my many adventures with the brothel massage parlour around the corner from my house yet?

[will80sbyers]

Mileven is endgame, proof (let's see if you dare to respond):

1- Mike was scared of losing Eleven, that's why he made that face at the end of s3, he is so in love he cant even handle it!

2- Mike tried to help el when she got bullied and went looking for her, until you know who decided to make that moment about him. When El hit Angela, he was in shock, but the next day he tried to apologize empatizing with her and forgave he for lying inmediatly

I do think Mike likes Will, but he is in love with Eleven and that is a fact

Be honest are you a Byler pretending to be a mileven?

Because even for a mlvn there's no coherent train of thought here in any way so I hope it's someone saying random shit lol it's actually a trainwreck of "logic" from start to finish to the point that it's funny

Baby, if Mike "likes Will" then byler is endgame 100% because writers don't write bisexual characters or make a character like another if they don't intend to do anything with it, if you think in any capacity that Mike is bisexual then mileven is done lol

1) You're right, Mike is scared of losing El from his life, that's why he's still clinging to her even if the relationship is not good for them anymore... and I don't think he has realized his feelings for Will consciously yet, he's still trying to repress them, in the season 3 finale the reason he makes that face after the kiss is because he's shocked and they wanted to replicate the kiss in the IT saga between Bill and Beverly, note that they have also made a OBVIOUS parallel between byler and benverly...which will both be endgame 🌈❤️🤗

If you were talking about this shot right here

this is because he also has feelings for Will and it's directly connected to Will because that's his house and we had another shot before of Mike looking at the cars go away so they didn't need to repeat a shot of Mike like that, it wouldn't make sense if it was for Eleven, it's pretty obvious Byler is being constructed and mileven is being destroyed and it's been a few seasons of this...

They even made him find her choice of breakfast weird for literally no reason at all except focusing on how much they aren't really that much compatible as a couple

+ not liking her milkshake, not liking skating, not liking the pizza with pineapple, dressing up in a completely different style only because he feels so insecure with her that he feels like he needs to pretend to be cooler than who he really is and being with her makes him feel like he has to be in the "boyfriend role" instead of being just Mike... like El feels like she had to lie for months about her whole life just because she felt like Mike wouldn't love her if she wasn't normal enough... They don't understand each other fundamentally anymore and it's okay, you grow and you change and relationships stop working sometimes!

2) At rink o mania MIKE is the one that starts their argument taking away the focus from finding Eleven... just because he's pissed that Will wasn't acting happy that he was there being a 3rd wheel for their date... And Will clocked that and asked him to explain himself lmfao

Mike doesn't know what true love is yet... exactly like Laurie from Little Women didn't know shit about true love and was idealizing Jo

Mike is doing the same to El because he's a 14yo kid... He'll understand as he grows up 😚

[stilljuststardust]

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

"Bringing things back" A rant.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

I feel like people are going to misunderstand this post so let me be clear: Everyone is entitled to their own opinions. I just don't think we should be shutting down someone else's desires on a minor technicality.

For a long time a hot topic has been the belief that you cannot "bring back" anything from your DR. So when someone expresses the want to return with pictures, possessions, and keepsakes, they'd often be shut down and told it's not possible.

The general consensus is if you do it you'd just shift back to a reality that's identical except for the item in question, and therefore it doesn't count because it's not this exact reality.

To be clear: a reality exactly like your original all the way leading up to the shifting and coming back except now the desired item has appeared in your room.

In my opinion, why does it matter? Why does it have to be the exact reality you left? Why should someone give up on something they want over a technicality? From your perspective as a shifter it is an experience that is identical to what you wanted anyway.

Think of it this way:

If a friend told you they shifted to their Hogwarts DR a second time would you tell them they're wrong because in-between shifts they scripted in a new pair of socks and therefore they haven't shifted to their Hogwarts DR a second time because they're technically two separate realities? Or is the difference small enough that it doesn't really matter enough to correct your friend?

Personally, if someone lectured me over a pair of socks I scripted I'd be very annoyed.

I have seen multiple people express the desire to bring back photos, proof, etc and they're flat out shut down or scolded. I cannot believe that so many people act as if it is entirely out of bounds because of a small technicality.

We're shifters. Alternate timelines are supposed to be our WHOLE thing and you can't accept this because it's technically a different reality???

If you can believe that you can go to Hogwarts or be a superhero you can believe in a reality where you come back with a small keepsake.

You have limitless potential, you can become anything you want do not throw that away for ANYTHING.

Stop centering this reality so much. It is not the only one that matters, it is not the end all be all, it is not the determiner of what is and isn't possible. If you only wanted what this reality had to offer you wouldn't be here reading this in the first place.

STOP crushing your own dreams because of what @closemindedoldfart3 says is possible. You are not here to give up on the thing you want you are here because you refused to accept this reality as all you were meant for. So stop putting limits on yourself. Do what you want instead of what you think you're capable of.

If you want stuff from your DR in your CR there is literally no reason not to get it.

"Can I-" yes.

"is it possible to-" yes.

"I want to-" yes.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

[ravenstargames]

✦ LOST IN LIMBO — 2024 WRAP-UP + 2025 MILESTONES

And here we are, after the holidays! Another year has come to an end and this one was simply incredible. You can anticipate what our most important milestone was for 2024, but there has been a lot going on this past year that maybe we all have forgotten. So let's see what these four friends have accomplished this year, and what's coming for a 2025 that already looks promising!

Good news is that we achieved every goal we set up for this year! Isn't that awesome?! We published our first demo, hosted our very first casting call (and it was nuts!) and so much more! Let's see it :3

✦ OUR STUDIO, RAVENSTAR GAMES, WAS OFFICIALLY FOUNDED ON JULY!

Let me tell y'all that when you finish college, keep studying because it turns out the job market is absolutely devastated and cannibalized, and then have an existential crisis, the last thing you think about is saying "fuck it we ball" and opening a studio. I mean, we are literally four people with no stable jobs (well, Kayden is an exception) and with no previous experience making a game entirely by ourselves.

So this was a huge step for us. A scary one. A terrifying one, and still is. But we've survived so far, so let's hope we can still do just that—survive at least long enough to start living. Calling this our job would be a dream come true, but there's still a long road ahead until that!

✦ WE SUCCESSFULLY FUNDED LOST IN LIMBO ON KICKSTARTER!

And you were right if you thought this was our most important milestone of the year!

Honestly, I low-key thought we weren't gonna make it. As I said—four people with no budget, paying for what we couldn't do ourselves with what our grandmas give us on Christmas—what were the chances anyone would be interested in helping us fund our game?

But we still had to do it, because making it this far and not risking not being funded would be madness. So there we were, opening Photoshop with tears in our eyes, watching our mediocre bank accounts get obliterated and working on the Kickstarter graphics with nothing but glitter and Jesus.

Also, we were asking for a lot of money and it was our first project. We've seen firsthand a lot of projects fail, a lot of people being scammed, and a lot of projects not going like the audience and devs wanted. So I thought we were a bit doomed.

Well, turns out there are people who believe in us and our project, so I was proved wrong. Maybe our graphics were really cool in the end, huh? I worked my ass off on those! /silly

So 980 people donated almost 60k euros and on September 27th, Lost in Limbo became officially a thing. Which is wild. I don't think I believe it still, honestly.

Of course, not everything went smoothly! As first timers we made a lot of mistakes, but we knew we were going to mess up something. Sometimes it was us, sometimes it was Backerkit or Kickstarter...Truth is watching a million YouTube tutorials, reading articles or learning about other devs' journeys doesn't make you ready to run a Kickstarter. There's some stuff you can only learn while running it!

So we ordered our merch, had our 🎉first delay🎉 because we made a mistake with our pins, and managed to deliver our digital goodies to our backers without blowing up (almost) anything.

✦ WE FUNDED OUR VERY OWN SOUNDTRACK!

And it'll consist of 19 original tracks by our wonderful composer Tomás Palazzi! 💜

✦ WE RELEASED OUR FIRST DEMO!

And overall, people seem to enjoy it! In fact, we recently reached +10k downloads and +71k views on itch! T^T

Of course, getting our demo out there was nerve-wracking, but we received a lot of love, and that includes wonderful and constructive feedback from a lot of folks who love our project and want it to succeed in its best form. Incredible content creators played our demo, reviewed it—and we've met amazing and stunningly creative people in the process!

However, as with anything you publish for others to see, not everyone is going to like it, and I think as a team we needed to also be exposed to that. There have been negative reviews that have helped us improve, and some others that have made us realize that our game, just like any other, isn't for everyone, and that's okay—our game isn't perfect and it won't ever be, and that's okay. As creators and creatives, accepting the critiques that help us improve is as important as letting go of the ones that contribute nothing, and to accept there are some things we don't want to change.

Of course there have been nasty or rude reviews, (most of them private) and albeit there were very few of them, but that was guaranteed. We try to have a few laughs at those!

✦ WE CREATED OUR OWN DISCORD SERVER!

And it's brimming with life!? We are almost 400 members and I may be biased, but it's full of amazing, supportive, and incredibly creative people. It feels so strange to see people talk daily about your game, about your characters—theorize, laugh, ask stuff...I can only hope our members feel at home as much as we do, because even if we can't interact with everyone all the time, just reading y'all makes us extremely happy :')

✦ WE STARTED WORKING ON OUR EXTENDED DEMO!

And it's going great! The script is doing better than expected, even if I'm editing more stuff than I originally planned. Implementing feedback we received during our survey is helping me improve the pace, storytelling and dynamism of the script. I'm an overthinker so I know I'm most likely editing / adding more stuff than I planned, but so is the way of the west.

Raquel has (as you all know) been working on the reworked sprites, and for now there's 4/7 done! 💜 We also have finished one of the new backgrounds and one is close to being done. That's 2/3!

Also, thanks to y'all buying extra stuff via Backerkit, we've managed to raise a bit more money and have been able to commission Airyn for help on the extended demo, as well as Allie (our editor) and the wonderful, the Ren'py Jesus, Feniks, to help us with our programming adventures! So technically we didn't reach our second stretch goal (outsourcing) but the extra coins have allowed us to hire some help!

That's all for 2024! Phew! Now, our plans for 2025 are quite simple (me when I lie).

First of all we want to ship our Kickstarter merch (more on that on a Kickstarter update coming soon!)

Finish production for our Kickstarter artbook

Release our Extended Demo

For now, we are aiming for a June 2025 release of the prologue, and the first chapter of every route will follow soon after.

Open our Patreon!

We have to think about this thoroughly, plan it, and make sure we can offer quality stuff worthy of your support. Some of you have asked a lot about a Patreon but we want to make sure we make it right!

On a personal note—this year I have been working on my OCD, as last year, and booked with two therapists. My therapist (the one who diagnosed me last year), and a different one specialized in OCD. This year has been full of highs and lows, but I'm in a much better headspace than I was last year, to the point of my meds being lowered! ✌️

I also enrolled for my PhD program like a month ago, and I got accepted after a lot of college shenanigans that almost became my villain arc. So this year is going to be funny for me!

Every member of the team has had their personal issues to deal with this year. Mental health, family, etc. It hasn't been an easy year for us, but I'm happy to say we've been there for each other.

And I think that's all! Overall it has been an insane year. Very productive, very nerve-wracking, and incredibly awesome. We can only hope this year is as good as 2024 if not even better, both for us as people and for our game. We hope your 2024 has been good, and we also hope you are excited to make 2025 a year you can be proud of; but most importantly, a year in which you can take care of yourself, be at peace with who you are, discover new things about yourself, and crave a path to the future you want to live!

Talk to you all soon! 💜

[espressoristretto-patronum]

[sorry already for the long post and broken English 🙃]

✨Best people of 2024✨

Thank you to the people who have thought of me, even considering me one of the best, you don't know how much I've appreciated your tags! (no, I'm not crying, no no).

I'm answering now because I was spending the holidays with my family and... I got a little overwhelmed by your tags, I didn't expect so many of them 😭

Let's start saying that this is the list of the best people of Tumblr: @everyone. Seriously everyone is so nice and talented and you guys have seriously saved my 2024. And all of your MCs are so dear to me!

But there are of course some people I want to thank personally, even if I believe I can't really express my deep gratitude.

@celestial--sapphic I thank you for a million things: for writing the best sapphic fanfictions (pure poetry, you're indeed my favourite writer!), for encouraging me to open this blog, for when I decided to start writing my fanfiction and you volunteered as beta-reader and seriously I couldn't ask for a better person! You are so patient and so supportive with my English and I thank you for the positive feedback I got on my work! Last but not least I thank you for that amazing drabble because TORI AND POPPY WRITTEN BY MY FAV WRITER? HELLO 112 YES HI I'M HAVING A HEART ATTACK!  My heart melts every time I read it, because of course, I still read your works!

@superconductivebean my first follower ❤️ Thank you for all the tags on your beautiful drabbles! I enjoyed every single one! I'm not so into throuple but Poppy x Julia x Imelda is the amazing exception! You're headcanons are the best I want to marry your brain!

@infernalrusalka THE COOLEST! Talking to you is always a great pleasure! You were also one of my first followers and you was already so supportive! I'm forever grateful we met here on Tumblr ❤️

@myokk my spanish counterpart aka EL DIABLO for killing me a million times with your amazing arts and writing! I still can't believe that a person so talented and cool is talking to a little potato like me 😭 I keep looking at your work with heart eyes. I mean, Tori in my favourite artist's style?! Three times?! 😭 Answering your tag (I had a nice heart attack when I saw it 🥹): I had ALL reason to be supportive, you deserve every single kudos, reblog and positive comments in the world! Not only you are so talented (girl, is there anything you can't do?!), but you're also so nice and sweet and humble! It's always a pleasure talking to you, commenting your wonderful works! Thanks to you I've read To kill a mockingbird and now is literally one of my favourite book! But also, thank you for A little life, I still keep a good distance from that book lmao

@heyitszev and @theladyofshalott1989 the HL queer community is so glad and honored to have you, seriously! You make Tumblr a safer place for queers and I thank you so much for including me ❤️ also, before you I was quite adamant about not reading Sebastian x MC ff but you changed my mind! You're so talented and it's always a pleasure reading your works! Even if sometimes I'm so slow! 😅

Also, you both wrote Tori in your stories and really I'm not crying, I just have a hippogriff in my eyes 😭

@rypnami you! Come here and let me hug you! Before you Leander was just a side npc but now "it's Char's boy!", don't stop being creative and unique!

@gothic-lottie my Gothic Latte ❤️ you're a great artist and writer, your works are great! Keep doing because I love your stories and fanarts!

@traceyc-uk @dom1re @diana-bluewolf every time I see your works the kudos is automatic! I love your boys! And it's even better when I see them together when you collaborate!

@endeavour12345 you and Philip deserve a lot of hugs 🫂🫂 I love reading your works ❤️ thank you for the hugs you dropped in my comments when I felt sad!

A special thanks to the amazing HCU squad: @acslytherpuff @girl-named-matty @savingsallow (MY SWEETEST WIFE BEAN 😘) @ps-cactus @accio-bagel @ravenwind-75 @theladyofshalott1989 @leaping-toadstool-caps @freddiestheproblemchild

I've surely thanked you a thousand times for being the best, for being so supportive and what an honour for including Tori 😭

Only a few times in my life I received more love than I've given and for this I will forever thankful ❤️ I'm so happy I can call you friends and thank you again for being there when I needed it, thank you for making me laugh even when I'm down, thank you for everything 🫂

@midnight-faye  quanto è bello trovare un'altra italiana! Sono contenta che tu sia parte del fandom, adoro la storia di Erina! Immagina lei e Tori nella stessa stanza? UN CHIASSO!

@light-of-the-room @morrowlegacy @sparxyv @heylorrain @raenegade-accio @thursdaymoonrise11 few of my newest followers but your art have already my heart, and you of course, because you're so nice! Can't wait to see more!

@knightxflowers the author of one of my favourite Poppy x MC, and I'm still so super invested in your ff, can't wait to read more!

@mscostac I'm so so glad @ps_cactus has suggested your ff because only a talented person like you could write an amazing ff with Taylor's lyrics as references! And Tori and Poppy mentioned in the epilogue? WHAT AN HONOUR, I STILL CAN'T BELIEVE IT!

@lynnsartsworld hope you're doing okay during this break! I enjoyed the conversations we had 😁 Can't wait to see more April and Poppy!

@anomalyaly @saibugslegacy @shanaraharlyah @thriftstorebabayaga @a-usernamelol @honeybadgerdontcare394 @the-chaotic-scilla-aster @thingsmaygetalittlecrazy @pitter-patter-pottah @boxdstars @jam-the-silly @m3nta11yunstab13 @kiwiplaetzchen @lilac-ravenclaw maybe we didn't talk much, but I love seeing your stuff everytime I scroll Tumblr and your comments on my silly stuff! You're so talented and nice!

Last but definitely not the least a big thank you to @myokk @celestial--sapphic @girl-named-matty @a-florable @acslytherpuff @pheexblack @ladyofsappho @mscostac @rypnami @ravenwind-75 @savingsallow @leaping-toadstool-caps @accio-bagel @endeavour12345 for drawing/writing/taking photo of Tori, you can't believe how much I appreciate your works which are literally gifts, I'm really surrounded amazing and talented people 🥹 I still go back on your works because I love every one of them, I will never thank you enough for taking your time doing them for me!

Thank you all again ❤️ I love you and I wish 2025 is a year full of fulfilled dreams ❤️ you deserve all love!

[hotvintagepoll]

David Tomlinson (Mary Poppins, Bedknobs and Broomsticks)—The ultimate scrungler of vintage Disney Movies... just watch him losing his job at the end of Mary Poppins. You'll get it. [clip under the cut]

Conrad Veidt (The Cabinet of Dr Caligari, The Man Who Laughs)— oh my god look at him in Caligari. I specifically said that he's from this because him as Cesare is just. MMMMM. he's so wet and sad and scrungly. and little. he's like a kitten left alone in a dark alley except he's also killed people (not his fault). something wrong with him (Cesare). as for Conrad himself. oh my god look at him... them big ole eyes and the walk of some fucking thing creature

This is round 3 of the contest. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. If you’re confused on what a scrungle is, or any of the rules of the contest, click here.

[additional submitted propaganda + scrungly videos under the cut]

David Tomlinson:

i don't have anything to say i think hes just great in old disney movies

Conrad Veidt:

I mean just look at him. The wet cat energy. The ghostly eyes. He did the monster mash before anybody. Where would we be today without him, he even has one (1) song on spotify. I regularly forget he's dead and wonder what his next movie will be. He slays in any role. The Ultimate Skrunkle.

He's the ultimate scrungly to me, the basis for many of our scrungly guys today. he's so skinny and pale and he wears so much eye makeup

He was THE bisexual goth tumblr sexyman of early film. Seriously the old timey Tumblrinas would send him fanmail about wanting him to choke them. He inspired the designs for the Joker and Jafar,and was nicknamed the “Demon of the Silver Screen” for his horror roles. His first wife divorced him for crossdressing. Hitler sent him hate mail for speaking out about antisemitism. He really loved his wife and told the Germans to go fuck themselves when they threatened his job if he didn’t divorce her for being Jewish. Just look at me and tell me this guy isn’t scrungly he’s like a personification of the emo kid from Horton hears a who

[cw the below clip depicts assault/abduction and could be scary for some viewers]

[tricksh0t]

★ stag

☾ tywin lannister x top m reader

𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘤𝘬𝘴𝘩0𝘵 ⛥ need that old man part 2, also happy new year

𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘵𝘴 ⛥ 2.43k words

cw: hair pulling, from behind, first time anal for tywin, age gap, use of boy as a nickname for the reader, pretty long, small mention of period-typical homophobia

Tywin was never one for hunts, not the ceremonious ones. Hunting was a necessity. It was not like joustings and tourneys, the entertainment found in the desperation and death of boastful warriors; those, he could understand. It is joy and amusement there, and he knows there is no joy to be found in letting your scouts capture the beast for you. It is duller still to plunge your blade into a helpless creature.

Most of all, there is no necessity to send the Lord Lannister, the commander of the Lannister army, a trusted advisor to the crown hunting. The so-said "better taste" of the game you hunted yourself is nothing but delusion to cover up for the time wasted, he knows this too.

There are always men perfectly capable of hunting for him, and if there aren't any, Westeros is damned for its incompetency.

Tywin only understands a good, old-fashioned hunt with purpose.

His army marches on in its journey to tame the North. Night falls, and dinner must be served. So, he hunts.

He's a noble, still, a man who enjoys the comforts of filling meals and cupbearers and wine, regardless of how worthless they are in showing anything except that he is still wealthy.

That is why here, on the table of his very own tent, he's skinning a stag.

He won't be the only one to eat it, no. The man behind him will, too.

You were, seventeen years ago, a soldier; but, just like now, you were also more than that. You were a killer of Targaryen Generals, which grants you today the title of General too: the Commander of the remaining Baratheon army that is still loyal to the admittedly blonder, true Baratheons.

The Baratheon colors became the Lannister's. Yellow became gold and red, but colors were nothing in the face of loyalty.

Tywin's the Lord of Casterly Rock while you're just a lesser cousin, a distant nephew, the farthest there is from inheriting Storm's End, yet you are only one rank below him in power, and that is something to admire.

Suppose that's why he allows you a cut of his meat.

"You stare." Tywin says.

There's no surprise in the statement, even with his back turned towards you. "I do."

"Yes, you do. Often, might I add. State your intentions, plainly."

You know each other, you might even dare to say, well. Tywin is a clever man, he always considers his alliances and his relationships carefully, and you have his trust. It is not easily given.

That does not mean he won't walk on eggshells around you.

"You know, there's reason to my staring. You're easy to stare at."

"Choose your next words carefully."

You have your worth, you're valueable, you're irreplacable. Digging a dagger into your throat won't be easy.

He wedges the butcher's knife into the table with a strong stab. It'd be anger, if that wasn't his usual way of doing it. Here, it's a show of strength. He turns to face you.

"I apologize, my Lord, it appears I wasn't speaking plainly." You play. Oh, you play. You Baratheons don't know when to quit. "You look good. Not good like the pretty princesses in their skirts, but like the men, if you have seen it, if you can understand it, the men on hot summer days that are still bound to the sword, training, muscles golden under the sun."

Tywin doesn't realize he's entertaining you when he says, "We are under shade. It is almost fall."

"Then let me fix it." You look interested now, sitting up, it's a pursuit. "You hide your body under armor, because one does not need to see your body to see your strength. You are commanding, powerful, outside of the physical. Your voice is deep and it allures me even though you don't intend it."

He raises a brow. At this point, not denying you is encouraging you.

You serve him. He could execute you just for saying this. Men have been killed for less, though that is a kind of command he has never given. This is a first, to be wanted like this, by a man, no less, and since many years.

Tywin picks up his knife, turns towards the table, back to the stag, back to skinning it. He's busying his hands. "Continue."

You stride forward, boot upon the earth like you're sneaking up to prey. He does not move to turn, nor does he open his mouth to stop you.

"You're an admirable man, you're ruthless, you're cunning. You plan ahead, you lead the Crown's army." You huff out something of a laugh at yourself, "I am only feeding your ego now, am I not?"

"You think that will get you somewhere?" Tywin returns. HIs knife separates a stubborn bit of the stag's skin from its muscles with a sickening schlick.

"No, I don't believe so." Your hands come to rest on the table on either side of him. It'd be trapping him if he were any other man but Tywin.

He wields the knife.

"And you think this will get you somewhere?"

"Maybe." Your voice is closer to his ear now. He almost flinches. Instead, you press your nose against his neck, and the rest of your head against the back of his.

Intimacy, warmth. It gets colder the further north you go, but he knows that's not why he isn't pushing you away now.

"I think, you'd have ordered my head or killed me yourself if you weren't interested."

Silence is enough of an answer.

You have been, at times, that man bound to the sword in the summer. Tywin has seen it, though he's never allowed himself more than a glance. He knows the sight of them, but pressed up against him now, he can feel your muscles beneath the thinner garments you wear under your armor.

Much the way you admire the strength of him, he can feel your strength; and again, he has seen it in the way you cleave down your enemies, but he is feeling it now, and it is different.

His silence was enough then, and his words won't be enough now, not unless they are stop or you're dead. So he chooses, instead, to poke fun at you.

"You aren't even the age I was when the Mad King was felled, do you know that, boy?"

If it is a night of entertainment that he'll find today, then he might as well have his fun. After all, he's a noble, still, a man who enjoys his comforts.

"Is that supposed to stop me?" You laugh against the skin of his neck.

The knife comes down into the wood of the table again, threateningly close to your hand. You don't flinch. He admires that.

There's the first couple of kisses against his neck. They're wet, which isn't quite his preference, but they're tolerable.

Tywin sighs, which he regrets quickly.

He gave you an inch, and you took a mile. "What was that?"

"A sigh, boy." His voice is stern. It'd be threatening, if you didn't hear that tone all the time. "Keep going."

Your hands undo the clasps of his leather overgarment, then untuck the shirt from his pants, and then meet his skin. They're cold against his stomach, but quickly warming up as you rub over it, like a lady's belly.

He sneers. "Don't keep that up. Move on."

You laugh. He should smack you, but he doesn't. "Apologies, my Lord."

"Does it please you to call me that?" His hand comes back to grab a handful of your hair, a grasp for control in this situation.

"Yes." You don't deny it.

This desire you have for him is his upper hand. He turns around and roughly tugs your hair back, pulling a wince from you.

He's rougher still with the laces of your pants, undoing them quickly and finally wrapping a hand around your cock. You're different from him, unrestrained, already groaning. "Do you want me because I'm the Lord of Casterly Rock and you're insignificant to the Baratheon house? Are you trying to see which is the highest bed you can sleep on?"

"No-no, my Lord."

That surprises him. He works you quickly, root to tip, the cold and the dryness of it all don't help. "Then what is it?"

"I want you," Instinct calls and you pathetically thrust your hips into his hand. "fuck, because it's your strength and power that make my cock stir."

"Funny, that it's my hand now."

For a moment, Tywin considers if he should continue the affair. Since Stannis and Renly Baratheon's individual rebellions, he hasn't been entirely sure of your loyalty. Blood is thicker than water, and it seems the Baratheon blood in his grandchildren has spread thinner than even water.

You'd be his pet, if he kept this up. The Baratheon army that follows you would be entirely his, secured.

"But a hand isn't what you want, is it?"

He spits on his hand then continues to jerk you off, and, "Fuuck."

"You aren't making it easy to tell." Tywin laughs, thoroughly amused.

"No, my Lord," You gulp back a moan to speak properly in front of your Lord, "I wanna fuck you."

"Fuck me? That's hilarious."

He considers it. It's true that it's something he's never tried, but he's not sure if he's willing to try it at all. Well, then again, men are driven by their cocks, and you're no exception.

"Please."

You sound so pathetic, it's cute. Tywin sighs again, letting go of you. "Alright. Go fetch oil. That is what you men use, yes?"

Tywin was not a youth seventeen years ago, and he is much less a youth now.

That does not mean that his knees are weak, nor that he can't fuck, just that he tires easily. His only concern was to take it with caution.

Sex is such a vulnerable act, after all. That's why it's such a powerful tool.

He never cleaned up the table. There was still blood on it, steadily but lazily flowing out of the stag where he'd cut open right down the middle.

Tywin cared for his cleanliness, but he didn't seem to care right now. His well-established dominance had faded into pleasured sighs and heavy breaths, as this was a sensation he'd never felt before.

It isn't how he imagined it, like a cold, struggling humping against his back and into the only hole he'd let you use.

Instead, there's pleasure in it, his nerves lighting up with shocks as if lightning. Then there was one that spot you'd rub against sometimes with terrible consistency.

It's carnal, is what it is.

Your lips find his neck again, and he lets out a shaky sigh. The kisses you give are wet, and he likes it.

With each time your pelvis meets his ass, his breath gets shakier.

"My Lord–"

"Don't speak."

It's terrifying, how much Tywin likes this. He'd always thought queer men to be bumbling fools, if only he knew the pleasure that came with it.

Your hand finds it, he takes it, squeezes it. It's somewhat of a blood union, with stag's blood.

The irony of it, a dead stag, a Baratheon fucking him.

Some sort of possession runs through him. You wear his colors.

"Fuck." He says, an indecency. This is indecent. This is fraternization. Oh, but he couldn't care less right now.

His head comes back, finds your hair again. He tugs, causing your lips to pull off his neck with a smack. He does it for nothing but the pleasure of hearing you gasp, a grasp for control where he finds it.

"My Lord." You don't seek to speak this time, he knows it. You're only moaning out for him, and it's rather pleasing.

He leans down further, pressing his ass into you, pushing your cock deeper into him. His back arches like a whore's. It's unbecoming.

And yet the heat feeds into it. It's still cold, here, but the way you work your bodies heats the both of you up in what feels like a mania to have more, to seek more, to want more, to fuck because you need it.

It's like a fire in his old, worn body.

The hand that was holding his travels down to his body, grasping his cock. Tywin gasps. His hand quickly follows, wrapping around your wrist with a slapping sound, and yet he doesn't pull it off.

It's stimulation on both sides, your hand around his cock and his asshole clenching around yours.

He almost loses his mind.

He tugs at your hair again, pulling another groan from your lips. It's a reminder of his control. You enjoy calling him your Lord, so he has to remind you that the title has meaning to it, before he loses himself to instinct.

He does, in the next moment, opening his mouth to let out a breath of a groan.

He shuts it, quickly. Tents are only fabric.

His hips follow in pursuit of instinct and pleasure, anyway; forward into your hand, finding pleasure for his length, then backwards onto your cock, spearing himself open.

When he cums, his mouth falls just slightly open to moan as quiet as instinct allows, and his hole clenches around you in tandem. You follow soon enough, groaning into his skin with enough restraint to remember you are an army general.

Tywin leans against the dirty table to catch his breath, before he's back to a fearsome commander the next moment.

"Get yourself tidied up." He's pulling his garments back on rather impersonally, because he cannot stay vulnerable. "And do not speak a word of this to anyone."

Despite that, there is some joy to knowing he's enjoyed this, especially as you wipe off the evidence of his pleasure on the dirty rag he'd been using to clean the blood off his hands. "Yes, my Lord."

"Keep that smirk off your face, boy." Tywin's face is back to cold and emotionless, though there is something of an amused lift to his eyes. "When next you decide to seduce me, do pick a better location. Army encampments are dreadful enough."

You can hardly speak about next time before he waves you off.

You'll see him later tonight, anyhow.

Tywin does not care to make sure you're walking away when he turns around, because it's the best he can do to hide the amused smirk that rises on his lips. A new pet, hm?

A smell makes itself apparent and Tywin remembers there is still a stag to skin.

[thecircularsystem]

So, I was recently part of a server run by a system as an experiment. A month of chatting with people, but we couldn't mention our origins, and at the end, we had to guess others origins.

Let's talk about it.

[Note: I am just going to be talking about the server, the survey, and a few thoughts about origins here. This is largely fluff and disappointment and bitching about the flaws I saw in the server. I'll be making a proper post about origins later that's not as connected to this.]

So, firstly, I used an alt account in order to participate in the server. My regular discord ID has my system name in it, and I didn't want to make things too easy. I popped in and talked, and I tried my absolute best to make it so obvious that I had a CDD, while also trying to make it obvious that I wasn't just a CDD system. I knew it would be next to impossible for people to guess my origins, so I was just there to have fun.

I knew immediately that I would dislike the server. For one thing, I already didn't really like the server runner -- sorry, if you're reading this, but genuinely, my system has an aversion to you. Not sure why -- don't fully remember -- but it's there and it made me wary. But, bigger than that, I figured out quickly just how poorly planned the server was. It got BIG, fast, and moderators were chosen seemingly at random. I remember a user was picked because the group names were based around food, and their username matched the food their group represented. That... is a very bad way to pick mods. Then there was the 2 minute speaking timer, which had to be circumvented with threads, and the realization that there was a thirteen year old in the server after I had brought up NSFW content... I do not join servers with younger people anymore and genuinely thought the server was 18+.

It was just... very disorganized. So, strike one.

Regardless, it was fairly easy to guess what people's origins were (not accurately, but I'll get into that at the end/in another post) at the most basic level, and who they were, as evidently, nobody else tried to hide their blogs or identities as hard as I did. I shared servers with around half of the participants already, and others were... fairly easy to guess from their syscourse presence. I think the highlight of the experiment was someone from the server contacting me (Circ) and talking about the experiment with me, not knowing initially who I was in the server. Genuine hilarity there.

But, of course, we were there to try to guess people's origins, so I was trying to find out what I could about those in my group. 7 participants in the group (myself included), and... Well, strike two.

Genuinely, this was the stupidest premise for a server in the world. In my opinion, at least. The thing is, all of these guesses have to be based entirely on stereotyping -- the language the system uses, the way they speak, the concerns they have about the community. A system who uses the term "headmates," is concerned about fakeclaiming more than symptoms of plurality, and focuses more on the plural aspect of systemhood than anything else is likely not experiencing a CDD.

Which, in this set-up, means you're endogenic. And that's a problem. But we'll get to that in the next section. First, I just want to mention that I consider this a strike against the premise of the server because so much was banned from being mentioned. It wasn't... formally said to be censored, but even amongst my friends outside of the server, I saw them say numerous times, "It's so easy to guess who X is because it's obvious they have a CDD!" And genuinely, that indicates nothing about a person's origins, spoken as a true CDD mixed-origin system. It's the Fenmere Clause, right? There's always an exception. So to see this sort of culture on never mentioning your disorder, never mentioning trauma, never mentioning your experiences in the system community while being asked to share them... Eventually, I just started censoring myself entirely in the server, cutting out chunks of writing with little brackets saying [Origin Information] or something similar.

If the point is to be able to guess origins, I need to be able to share more than just the stereotyping that people rely on. It needs to be a fair chance.

Then the end came, and... for fucks sakes, that's what sparked this entire post. I had planned to wirte up a post, of course, but lord.

At the end, we had to guess how likely it was that someone "had a CDD, was endogenic, or was a created system." Funny enough, my origins (mixed-origin, fully traumagenic CDD system with multiple created parts AND a dreamway part) weren't listed, not fully. Traumagenic wasn't even an option for those who don't have CDDs.

Now, look, I am a CDD system. I consider that to be my "main" origin. But to only count "CDD, created, or endogenic," you discount one of my parts entirely, one who is one of the most helpful parts. The survey also didn't ask if people had created parts, but if they were a created system, which... I'm not. So that furthermore discounts two of my parts who are created -- and still equally traumagenic.

Furthermore, when asked for clarification, the moderator had... this to say.

For CDD, you either have one or don't (or at the very least it's more cleanly binary than origin), so I asked for the positive For origin, people "testing for purity" for lack of better wording coming to mind usually care about any percentage of endogenesis. And while CDD does not necessarily mean traumagenic, traumagenic is very nearly a subset of CDD

To translate, as that left such a sour taste in my mouth I thought I threw up a little, what this meant was, "Some of the users are anti-endos, and so if you have one endogenic part, most of those users will assume you're entirely endogenic."

...

So, rather than the point of the server being, "Can you guess someones origin?" it became "Can you guess someones origin if I painstakingly make a survey that caters to anti-endo beliefs and erases the origins of members of the server?"

Wonderful. Strike three.

Genuinely, I'm not sure what possessed the server owner to phrase the questions this way. Catering to the anti-endos wasn't the point of the server, and it erases the members origins. There should have been a way to identify what, exactly, you felt each member IDENTIFIED as. If an anti-endo does not believe in endogenic plurality (which, yes, many members of the server did not), then at the very least, they can say that a user identifies as endogenic, or mixed origin, or spiritual, stressgenic, adaptive, quoigenic, OR ANY of the THOUSANDS of origin options out there.

I would've done a multiple choice list of, "Here's what members of your group identify as, based on their intake survey; can you assign each of these labels to individuals in your group?" What was the purpose of an intake survey at all if you ignore the origins to cater to the anti-endos?

I'm not going to lie, I was incredibly frustrated, more than a little mad, and just...

Disappointed. Which, I figured I would be going in.

The thing is, origins aren't guessable in this manner. Nobody in that server could have looked at me and gone, "Ah! Yes, it is clear that this individual is a mixed-origin CDD system who identifies with CDD as an origin while having created traumagenic parts and a dreamway part." DREAMWAY IS A LABEL WE FUCKING MADE UP!!!! It would be impossible to guess unless they heard about me personally.

And that's the reason this type of experiment is bullshit. Sure, you can... hazard a guess if someone has a CDD or is endogenic or is mixed-origin or any of the above. But... You can't know. You can't get it perfectly accurate. Sure, based on vibes you can guess, and maybe you can even guess accurately for the most part.

BUT EVERY SYSTEM IS DIFFERENT AND UNIQUE ANYWAYS. So why does it matter?

It doesn't.

But the system community doesn't seem ready to accept that yet.

All in all, I'm incredibly disappointed in the server and how it went. I enjoyed the conversations we had there, and I enjoyed the company. I'm still enjoying talking there!! Now that origins are revealed, I want to talk about how my mixed-origin parts impact my CDD parts, and how they are CDD parts at the same time. I want to discuss it!!!

I would even hazard to say I made some new friends, and likely a few enemies (someone from my group, not knowing who I was, was even liking posts that were actively libel against me from harassers I have. How fun!)

But the experiment portion of it was an entire, complete disaster. And I think... genuinely, most people expected it to be.

Sigh.

[thebreakfastgenie]

When the right first started making up the litterboxes in schools thing I thought it sounded familiar because I swear I remember a post from the peak of the tumblr otherkin era about the idea of public bathrooms including "litterboxes for catkins." When I started thinking about it I am fairly sure (but not entirely, it was a long time ago and I'm working from memory) that the post I remember was not actually suggesting this, but rather mocking another post that did, except it didn't reference a specific post. It was just "they should have litterboxes for catkins!" in quotation marks, as if someone else said it, but without attribution. There have been cases of fake tumblr posts made up on places like 4chan and reddit working their way back to tumblr, and we know those people were on here, mining for content, trolling and harassing, and running the anti-SJW blogs. I'm not saying anything definitive because again this is all based on my decade old memory, but it would make sense if the litterboxes thing had an origin in right wing posters making fun of otherkin tumblr. We know there's a right wing poster to mainstream right wing politics pipeline. I know that kitty litter was included in emergency kits in case of an armed intruder as well but I don't think the two are mutually exclusive, there could be multiple origins. I'm mostly interested in a possible anecdotal data point about the way ideas that begin on the right wing internet make their way to the mainstream right because if I'd stayed in political science I'd probably be researching this now.

[tuttle-did-it]

@superiorsturgeon

I understand and agree. In the grand scheme of things, it means nothing. You are absolutely correct. However.

I've been in this situation. I used to write for a magazine. I was severely underpaid for the work I was doing and the knowledge I was bringing to the role. However, the editor was a racist, sexist, homophobic arse. Every article was an argument.

I stayed in the job because I told myself that when I DID win those arguments, I could bring more diversity to the audience. That the audience would benefit from learning more about some of these incredible women. And I think, on some level, that was true.

However, I also felt contaminated and a little ashamed to tell people I wrote for this magazine-- because so many people in my industry knew what he was like and what his attitudes were. I was barely paid anything for what would take over a month to research and write. But that wasn't the biggest problem. Eventually, I just felt like I was slowly being poisoned by staying. It felt like a fungus growing over my skin. I'd feel sick all the time when it was time to start researching and negotiating on what I was going to do.

Did my taking a stand and leaving make a difference to anyone except me? Nope.

Was I replaced without even a single thought? Yes.

Did I finally feel like I was no longer being contaminated by this man and his 19th century ideals? Yes.

It was very heavy weight on me that was keeping me on the bottom of the ocean. I cut the rope, and could finally swim to the surface. Did I save the world? No.

Did even one reader care that I left? Did the editor? No. Did the knot of poisonous anxiety finally leave my chest and stomach? Yes.

In a similar situation to Ann Telnaes, Prof Dorothy Bishop resigned from the very prestigious Royal Society because they've taken Elon Musk on as a fellow. She got nothing out of quitting. But she took her stand where she believed she had to, and I respect the hell out of here for walking away. (Please read the link on her name for her blog entry.)

I cannot speak for Ann Telnaes, or for Professor Bishop, but I suspect they both felt something similar.

1) for the person out there who is leaving the job, they're showing themselves as a person of integrity, and I have to hope that someone else with integrity will see that and approach them for a better job.

2) even if that does not happen, I genuinely respect anyone who is willing to burn their bridge and take a stand against something they know is wrong-- even if it gets them nothing. Integrity is not about what someone wins. 9/10, when people do something like this, they are doing it for themselves. And I respect that.

3) i can't speak for you, but when things are a complete hell hole, like right now, and all we see is corruption rewarded, and seeing domino after domino fall? Watching even one person --knowing it will fuck then over, knowing it could destroy their career-- stand up and say 'no?' I think that is important to see.

Yes. Grand scheme of things? Ann Telnaes walking out will do nothing to WaPo. They may lose a few subscriptions, but the world is not going to change much. Professor Bishop will be replaced, and life will go on. I don't think either of them are under any delusion that quitting will stop the corruption going on in the world. I certainly was not when I left the magazine I wrote for.

But if Ann can now sleep at night knowing she's done the right thing? If Dorothy can breathe because she feels she has done the right thing?

That matters.

To me, seeing the world burn-- and even one person who says 'I will not light this match' and walking away? That matters. If for nothing else but to believe that there is at least a few people in the world who will take a stand. Even when they know it won't change anything.

You are right. Ann will be easily replaced, just as i was. Dorothy has probably already been replaced. The world will move on, no one will remember or care next week. But Ann and Dorothy will probably sleep better at night, and so will I.

Maybe someone else will see this, and do the same. Maybe not.

Sometimes you don't save the world. You just save yourself. And sometimes that is enough.

Article from Washington Post cartoonist Ann Telnaes who has quit WaPo. Worth a read.

[running-in-the-dark]

it's just. really really hard to find the motivation to keep going, you know? when everything just keeps getting worse. when nothing feels permanent.

[mashmouths]

so i started this show and it just gets worse and worseeeee not only did it lift the romance subplot directly from twilight (and not well) but they also are trying to play the forbidden love angle hard in the fantasy racism vein except it's a "cross-species" relationship between the two whitest people i've ever seen in my life and there are three people of color in the whole (first season of the) show who aren't villains and it seems that every other episode (and sometimes ebery episode and sometimes twice an episode!) there is a man physically or magically subjugating a woman and i keep waiting for the big reveal at the end to be stolen from fucking rainbow rowell

[cordycepsbian]

merchant beetle chatting with shopkeep snow bee (and horse wheel bug)