#i didn't realize that was such a faux pas

[spamatron3000]

Be me.

Read a list of apparent Red Flags for the TF fandom.

Get to "enforces IDW comics onto everything transformers; enforces IDW ideas/characterization/story onto different continuities"

Remember the bits of IDW ideas/concepts I put in my last Beast Wars fanfic. (mnemosurgery, point one percenters, Functionalism)

Sweat profusely.

[beloved-child-of-the-house]

i stand with you in the face of a defensive misunderstanding of what critique is.

i think understanding what a critique actually is is a skill that increasingly is not taught. i remember going through freshman art courses feeling the frustration that all negative, nasty, unhelpful, and missed-the-point-entirely feedback is so commonly conflated with critique, and then critique gets a bad name because everyone remembers the time someone said their painting looked like an asshole (true story, altho now i think i would take it as a compliment) instead of the time a teacher or friend or classmate helped them uncover a hurtful bias or think of new ways to explore the same idea or how to connect it to related ideas or how to look up and understand other people's ideas on the same topic.

anyway i think you're great.

ahhh you're so kind to me!! i appreciate your support, and i think you are great also.

i have experience with giving and receiving critique as a student myself, and i think it was the best part of my degree! i majored in creative writing in college, and critique was just a generally accepted part of learning to become a writer. i don't even remember people being especially worried about receiving critique on their work. we had guidance on what kind of feedback was useful, but we were still at liberty to give it as we saw fit as like messy 19 year olds. the standard was that we gave it both written on printed copies of the work AND aloud in front of the whole class, and the writer receiving it was not permitted to speak during the critique. understanding how people are perceiving your work is important!

i don't have any particularly negative recollections of the critique process, although once in a high school writing class, the boys in the class told me that my male characters touched each other too gently and real boys are more rough with each other. in particular, they took issue with me writing that one boy nudged another. nudging is too soft. nudging is for girls. that was more than 20 years ago, and i still think about it sometimes because it was such an interesting perspective! i did not take their advice, though.

i should dig up that piece and see if it reads queer in any other ways. i think that's what they were getting at. (actually i once had a non-fiction class tell me i was in love with my roommate after reading an essay i wrote about her)(i did not listen to that advice either, but having 12 acquaintances tell you that you're gay in 2006 before you realize it yourself is Truly Something!)

i think people have conflated criticism and critique and think that being more openly analytical is the same thing as being negative. but analysis is so fun to me! analysis is why i joined fandom in the first place, and it's why i write fic! can we trust each other to be respectful and to speak in good faith even when we're not singing each other's praises? for me fandom would be better if we could.

oh i also want to clarify that i don't think it's impossible to demonstrate that you've thought deeply about a piece of fanwork while remaining completely positive. people do it all the time and do it very well!

i know i sometimes have tunnel vision wrt my own perspective. in a lot of situations, i wish it were more acceptable to be more direct, and i know people sometimes find the way i express myself to be kind of shocking. i know a lot of people like to be spoken to more indirectly than comes natural to me, and i don't mean to imply that my perspective is the only correct one or that there's no good reason to err on the side of gentleness/politeness in our responses to amateur art and writing. i just think that at a certain level of circumspection, it feels like we're all holding each other at arm's length.

i think for people who can't bear to feel exposed, making and sharing art is always going to be painful and difficult, and maybe too painful and difficult to enjoy the process unless they're sure of a soft landing. but like. the rewards of being loved only come after the mortifying ordeal of being known, right?

[meatiermeatball]

I made a minor social. thing. IDK. And now I can't sleep. Girl help

[bluecookiesabi]

ARGH. Social faux pas my fucking BELOATHED

[bridgetotheskyyy]

Slip of The Tongue - Toge

Kinktober Masterlist

Warnings: 18+, dubcon, smut,

A/n: back to make up for Kinktober day 6! Dubcon.

Word count: 1.5k

Read on ao3.

It had been a simple slip of the tongue, a mere faux pas, but the consequences had been explosive. 

“Fuck me,” Toge had said ― groaned more like, in frustration, promoted from his third loss at Mario kart against you. 

You turned toward him just in time to see his eyes widen, the realization of what he had done living there. 

Toge’s watery voice washed away all reason in your mind as you flung yourself at him, arms around his shoulders, and planted your lips over his. 

Toge had dipped under your weight, falling to the floor by his side as your hands plucked feverishly at his clothes. Toge had opened his mouth to gasp only to invite the aggressive wet of your tongue to brush and lap against his cursed one ― 

Your hands traveled south, curled around his belt ― 

Toge had torn his head away from you ―

“NO!”

The word, imbued with cursed energy, rippled over the room like a sonic wave. At his mercy, you froze. Toge's eyes darted across your face. His hands angled you back to your knees and off of him. 

The clouds obscuring your eyes waned. You blinked. 

“What?” Your brows creased. “What... What happened?”

Toge's answer came only in the hanging of his head as his hands shrunk away from your shoulders. You studied his face as realization came over yours. 

The last few seconds relayed in your mind. “Oh, god ― Toge, it’s okay ― I'm ―”

"Salmon." Toge scrambled to his feet and passed the door before you could halt him. 

You hadn't seen Toge since that fateful night, surely avoiding you. 

You sighed as your fingers dragged fog from your mirror. You knew he would blame himself. It was his fault; typically he knew better, the severity of the damage he could cause with a simple word always at the back of his mind. But three nights ago, he had 

You didn't care. You just wanted your friend back. 

“Does anyone know where he is?” You asked in the Jujutsu University lounge. 

Yuuta and Panda froze. Yuuta swallowed, toying with the hilt of his sword. 

“I ― um ― I don't know, (Y/n),” he said. 

You crossed your arms. “You're a bad liar, Yuuta.” 

“He's not lying,” Panda said. “Truth is, we haven't seen Toge in a few days. Not even a single text.”

You straightened your back. That was strange. Toge was a chatterbox in texts, what with it being the only safe way he could truly express himself. “What? Not even a meme?”

“Not one.” Panda shrugged. “He’s fine. I’m sure of it! You know how he can be sometimes.”

You would not be fooled, especially when you had an idea of where Toge had gone.

It was a place he and you had discovered and claimed for yourselves, one fateful evening exploring the city. 

The weight of Toge’s disappearance weighed on you as you approached the warehouse. Doubt and worry held your stomach taut. What if you were wrong? Maybe Toge hadn’t come here after all? 

You had to check. You walked inside, caution slowing every step. 

“Toge?” 

Quiet.

BANG

You startled; it was muffled, and most likely had come from several rooms over. You swallowed. You didn’t sense a curse ― not yet, anyway.

You followed the source of the sound, trembling down a series of stairs until you came to a lower, darker area of the abandoned warehouse. 

Sitting on the ground, faced away from you. 

“... Toge?” You murmured. You hardly had to ask; you knew.

Toge spun. His eyes were wide, bloodshot, as though sleep had eluded him for days.

“It’s okay …” You walked toward him. “Please, just tell me what happened ―”

He shot his arm out as he stumbled away from you.

“Toge, please ―”

He turned away. Vaguely, you wondered why he did not voice to stop you. Silence was all you were met with as you approached.

You reached out. Just the slightest bit of skin between your finger and his neck touched ―

He grabbed your offered arm and you fell against his lips.

Shock overcame you as Toge’s hands cradled your face. You opened your mouth to speak only for his tongue to bridge the gap and find yours. He opportunized your shock to part your mouth with his tongue. Your eyes widened as he sucked your tongue, rutting into you. You had done all it took to ignore the thought of Toge’s lips on yours since that, and now your diligence was forfeit as his lips moved against yours with a fervor you struggled to match. Before you knew it you were against the wall, Toge’s greedy, frantic hands venturing your body, desperate for a slight of naked skin. 

“Toge ―” Something’s wrong with him. “Toge!”

No use; his mouth won over your words. He earned himself a gasp from you as his hips jutted into you, hands kneading into your breasts. You were so overwhelmed you did not feel the straps of your top come down nor the way your panties now hung past your skirt, hooked over your wobbling knees.

You understood now; he had kept himself away to protect you.

But no one could do that now.

It didn’t matter how your cunt throbbed with every touch, how saliva ran your mouth to taste him, have him splitting you open. You had to stop him.

“Toge, I ―” You trembled as he nibbled the skin. Already, you could sense the darkening of the bruises that would be left there. The hand on the small of your back held you in place as you squirmed. “I ― I don’t know if I want this ―”

“Yes, you do.” Toge licked the shell of your ear, heated breath on your lobe. “Of course you do.” A hand slipped in between your legs without ceremony, his fingers finding evidence of his truth. He met your eye, his collar low enough to showcase his smirk. His expression challenged you: See how wet you are?

You understood as his will lay over yours. Your cunt throbbed with gratitude as Toge played with your wet folds. You bit yourself as two fingers slid with ease into your heat. Pretty violet eyes remained glued to yours, dared you to deny, to lie.

You couldn’t lie to yourself. 

Again and again, you had dreamed of this since Toge’s slip up had allowed you to taste him for the first time. The night you had gotten just a taste. Why couldn’t he have put his morals aside for one night? Why couldn’t he have just let you finish the job ―?

Now, Toge scissored you from within, palm rocking into your clit as you whined into his shoulder. Your arms came around him to keep him close. He panted beside you. A third finger tickled your folds before letting itself in to be eaten by your cunt. You reddened; juices leaked down your inner thigh. You rocked shamelessly against his fingers, hungry for the length of them along with his palm brushing your sensitive clit. You drew blood on your lip as a tightening behind your abdomen ―

Toge withdrew his fingers and you whined against the cold emptiness. He brought his fingers to his mouth to lick and suck your juices from them, a moan stuck in his throat as he savored your taste. 

Another blink and you were on the ground. Shafts of sunlight from the poorly-boarded up roof warmed your skin as Toge toppled you. You shivered as the trails his tongue made left cool tracks over your heated skin. How long would he be like this? Panic jolted you, arched you into Toge’s frenzied hold. No one knew the two of you were here. And he wouldn’t let you go. How long would the effects of whatever Toge faced last? How long would he use you? The fearful thrill went straight to your aching cunt.

“Don’t move.”

Your body obeyed. Toge knuckled your panties and slid them down to bunch at your ankles. Toge faced you as he settled himself between your legs, beautiful violet eyes dilated by madness. Already, his hips rutted against you, erection probing you ― alleviated only by Toge freeing his cock and with a growl fixing to enter you.

Toge slipped a thumb into your mouth as he sank into you. “Suck,” he ordered, voice watery and reverbed ― and hoarse from the squeeze of your walls. He whined as you suckled his thumb. Your body bounced with his quick, unfiltered pace. Toge kissed down your jaw, pants huffing against your skin.

“Aah …” His face strained. Slap, slap, slap went his hips into you. He forced your hands over your head to possess you fully. “So good …!”

You were too worked up to withstand his bestial pace. Toge licked the shell of your ear before slipping his tongue into your canal ― 

“Cum.”

He ordered it, but he didn’t need to; you were already convulsing around him, his voice command adding another layer of chaos to your climax, doubling it, tripling it. Your eyes rolled back as your screams were muffled with Toge’s mouth. Your cunt overran with warmth but, as one command overcame the other, you wrapped arms and legs around Toge to prevent him from leaving.

When you were too weak to hold Toge to you, he pulled out. He stared at you from above, flushed face, spittle ran down his cheek. You watched him through heavy-lidded eyes.He surveyed the damage he had done.

And, apparently, felt nothing as he dragged you by your legs toward him to ruin you again.

[ew-selfish-art]

DP x DC AU: Danny desperately wants to find the explosion guy. Tim is really good at covering his tracks... he didn't account for ghosts.

The explosions make it onto TV as purported terror activity and most people haven't heard of that part of the world much less ever given a second thought to care about it. The only real reason it gets reported on has something to do with the Justice League and... Danny knows too much.

He's been in training for Clockwork's court (which he's suspicious of- feels like kingly duty bullshit- but Danny is playing along out of curiosity for now) and he's learned a lot about how the living and non-living worlds collide. That means learning about CW's usual suspects- one of which just happened to have a ton of bases around the area Danny was seeing on the news.

It didn't take long for Danny to try to piece together that whoever blew up Nanda Parbat was trying to fuck with the League of Shadows, and was doing it successfully. Less green portals in the world the better, same goes for assassins. But it gets Danny thinking... Maybe he can employ similar tactics on the GIW Bases that keep spawning on the edges of Amity Park. It would at least set them back while he and his friends navigated the help line desk to request Justice League intervention. None of them can leave Amity Park, so outreach is going to have to be creative.

So Danny figures he'll just find the guy. Call up some ghosts who were there, or er, came from there and get a profile and track him down. But the ghosts keep saying it was The Detective. Annoying!

Danny goes full conspiracy theory, gets Tucker and Sam involved, and begrudgingly asks Wes Weston his thoughts.

He hadn't expected Wes to garble out a thirty minute presentation (that had 100 more slides left to go before he cut it off) about how Batman totally trained with a cult and so did his kids. Danny kind of rolled his eyes but... hey, new avenue of searching in the Infinite Realms at least.

The ghosts confirm that Bombs is for sure not Batman's MO- But maybe his second kid would know? The second kid was already brought back to life though, so no way to easily reach him... Danny starts to realize that this might be the work of a Robin now. Wasn't the red one known for solving cold cases? (Sam provides this information- its a social faux pas to not know hero gossip at Gotham Galas- everything she's learned is against her will).

It all comes to a head when Danny goes about the hard task of opening a portal for the guy to come through at just the right time, explain the infinite realms so he doesn't panic and then describe what the fuck was going on with the GIW. It takes months, just over a full year, of random (educated guesses) portal generating- Finally, Red Robin drops into the land of the dead.

"So, you're the guy I've got to talk to about explosions right?" Danny enthusiastically asks.

Tim thinks he's died and landed in the after life following 56 hours of being awake and plummeting off the side of a building into a Lazarus pool. Nothing makes sense about the kid in front of him.

"Yeah, I got a guy for munitions." Tim answers cooly.

"How do you feel about secretly sanctioned government operations that violate protected rights?"

"Gotta get rid of 'em some how. Need me to point you in the right direction?" This might as well be happening.

[spale-vosver]

Hey, jumblr, can I ask if I committed a faux-pas?

I was in a discord server and had been pretty open about the fact that I'm converting, and someone mentioned they were going to try fasting for health reasons. People were giving them advice and I mentioned that in Judaism we're required to stop fasting if you get sick or to not do it at all because life comes first; someone then asked when I'd started converting, I was honest (this August) and they replied (copied directly):

"ahh okay so i probably wouldn’t speak for judaism or call yourself jewish then since you haven’t received your shtar giur yet ☺️ it can be really invalidating to people who took the time to convert to claim that (you’re also… like not supposed to do that as you haven’t received the blessing yet) hope this helps!"

And when I went "oh I'm sorry I didn't realize I was being rude, my rabbi said it was okay" they said I should find a new one.

And now I feel like a huge dick??? Like have I been wrong this entire time?? Is my rabbi doing something wrong??? Am I just a massive asshole??? Is my conversion invalid??? Have I been appropriating Judaism this entire time???

I've never run into this issue before so now I'm petrified that I've been incredibly insensitive and that something about my conversion is Wrong and it won't be valid.

[i-literally-cant-with-this]

A/N ::: I'm just going to come right out and say it, I love Kafka Hibino. He's so goddamn cute that I literally want to just eat him alive. This is my first time writing for him - though I've been thinking about it for ages. I hope you like it, @supersecretsaga And I apologize, I'm wholly incapable of writing without it exceeding 1k words. So, SORRY. I proofed this once on google docs and that's all I have in me today. Any gross errors that look like I didn't mean to do them, message me!

C/W ::: Human Kafka, F.reader, not a lot of swearing. I just don't get the sense that Kafka would swear unnecessarily. Maybe I'm wrong. My perception will probably change. Really, who cares. Um, P->V (unprotected), jumping the relationship gun (but, with him, I would, too.)

WC ::: 3,094 (about 7 3/4 pages on G-Docs).

MDNI UNDER THE CUT

Kafka Hibino was simple, through and through. But when he met you that day in the hospital, his whole life changed. He knew he'd never be the same man he was before he was admitted.

You're a nurse. You were great at your job, and you knew it. Though the first time you saw that big, dumb puppy-energy-giving man, you knew that you were a goner, as well.

He was admitted around 2 am. Settled in around 5 am. He was in a lot of pain from the fight he'd gotten into with the Kaiju around midnight. He had 2 broken arms, bruised ribs. A number of different things had happened to him.

Kafka would be in good hands, though. Really, really good hands.

Your hands.

**** 7:30 am ****

"Oh- oh my god. What was THAT!?" You pulled your hand from the large porcelain tub in his bathroom and squeezed the sponge out over his short dark hair.

Giggling, you blinked slowly because you couldn't deny the warmth that was spreading throughout your whole body. And not just between your thighs. No, this was something else entirely. His stupid haircut, his kind eyes and dumbass smile were hammering their way through your boundaries. The same boundaries you'd worked so hard over the years to build to not get emotionally attached to patients.

"You're an idiot, Mr. Hibino. A complete moron. Have you never been bathed before? That was just a little something extra to help loosen up your muscles, a quick massage. My goodness. It's as if you've never been pampered." You stood from where you were on your knees on the floor and shook your hands out, purposely getting water on his face - you hoped in his eyes - so you would have a reason to gingerly wipe it dry.

"Call me Kafka," he said, his eyes never leaving yours as he watched you grab the towel and stand over him.

"What?" You were confused. You didn't realize he'd been asking you something.

"Call me Kafka. It's my name, yeah?" He sounded so serious, so sincere. You nodded and wiped his face with the towel, noticing the small wrinkles as he smiled up at you.

Fuck. He's adorable and you're finding it harder and harder to stay professional.

"No. Your name is Mr. Hibino and that's what I'll be calling you. Ok? Mr. Hibino? Now, let's finish this bath and get you back in bed. The doctor will be coming by soon to check on you and he can give you another massage if you need it." You moved your hands to his shoulders, gently massaging them as you continued talking. "You've been through a lot, Mr. Hibino. Your body needs to heal."

He sighed and closed his eyes, leaning back against the tub.

You kept massaging him, not stopping until he was almost asleep.

This sweet, gentle man, had a power over you that no one else did. And you weren't sure how to deal with it.

Quite a while later (sorry, storyline faux pas - I didn’t take into account healing time. But let’s just say that because he’s part Kaiju that he heals exceptionally fast. Ok? Ok!)*****

**** 1 month later, 10 pm ****

You hadn't seen Kafka since the morning bath you'd given him. He was discharged and sent home to continue his recovery. As a nurse, you knew he would be alright. But as a woman, you were left feeling empty and wanting more of him.

You were home that night, exhausted, but unable to sleep. You tried to keep your thoughts away from the big, gentle man who had stolen your heart with his kind words and warm smile, but it was impossible.

Your mind drifted to the way he looked at you as you bathed him.

How his body was perfectly balanced between the hard muscles he'd earned in his training and the slight squish around his mid-section that you wanted nothing more than to run your fingertips over.

His arms were thick and strong. Yet not battle-worn. He didn't have too many scars, though they'd have only added to his appeal.

His legs were muscular, too. Thick and strong, like his arms. His thighs were something else, something you found yourself daydreaming about wrapping your own legs around.

You wondered what his cock would feel like inside of you. You snuck a glance when he was in the tub. You knew his eyes were closed when you looked at it, bobbing away in the water. You're certain he was hard. Otherwise, you prayed he wasn't a grower because any more than that and you'd be the one being admitted to the hospital.

You thought about his hands on your body, squeezing your breasts and sliding between your thighs. You imagined what it would be like to feel his fingers inside of you, massaging you and bringing you to orgasm faster than you could imagine.

You rubbed your clit slowly, gently. You couldn't bring yourself to fuck yourself with a vibrator or even your own fingers. You didn't want to give yourself that much pleasure. 

You wanted it to be Kafka.

You wanted him to be the one to take you, to fuck you, to make love to you.

You rolled over onto your stomach, burying your face into your pillow as you yelled out in frustration.

"This is ridiculous. This is so stupid. I - I'm not some teenager who can't control herself." You stood and walked to your closet, grabbing some comfortable clothes and your purse and left for the mini mart down the street from your house. 

Chocolate was the next best thing you could think of. Other than, of course, Kafka running his hands all over your body. But what are the chances of that.

What are the chances of that?

The night air was cool against your skin. A nice contrast to the heat you'd built up while thinking about him.

You grabbed a pint of chocolate ice cream and began walking back home.

You felt better, slightly, but still very much wanting.

**** 10:30 pm ****

You were halfway through your pint and the movie when you heard a knock on your front door. "Coming, hold on, please." You walked to the door and looked through your peephole to see who it was. "Oh, you're fucking kidding me. What on earth are you doing here, Mr. Hibino?" The smile on your face was causing the back of your head to strain. You couldn't hide that you felt like your prayers had been answered all at once. But at the same time, you didn't want Kafka to see this look of bliss on your flushed face.

"Call me Kafka," he said softly, leaning against the doorway and smiling back at you. "And I wanted to see you again. May I? Come in, I mean. Please?"

You stepped aside and let him in, closing the door behind him.

You watched as he looked around your living room. You could tell he was a little nervous, but so were you.

You'd never felt this way about a patient before. Ex-patient, you had to remind yourself. He was no longer under your care. 

"Ok, Kafka." He smiled at the way you said his name. He'd never heard anything like it before. "Would you like some ice cream? I was just sitting here, eating some, watching a bad movie." You chuckled, showing him the container and spoon.

"Sure. I'd love some." He sat down right in the middle of your couch, and you sat next to him.

You handed him the ice cream and he dug in.

You both ate in silence for a few minutes until he said, "This is good."

You nodded and smiled. "It is. Sometimes chocolate, um, well, sometimes it's the only thing that helps. Y'know?" You looked at him, noticing the way his lips had turned up into a smirk. "What? What did I say?"

"Nothing, nothing. You're just ... you just ... h-here. Can I? There's a little bit of ... right ..." He swiped his thumb across your bottom lip so slowly and then sucked the ice cream off. "... there. You just had a little on your lip. 'S gone now."

You weren't sure what to do. Your body was telling you to jump on him and fuck him until neither of you could walk. Your brain was telling you to wait and see what other kind of sweet nothings he'd do for you. 

So, you waited. You had no idea your self-control was this well-honed. Again, you’d never been tested like this before.

But Kafka was different.

"You're beautiful, y'know." He whispered, looking at the floor like he was trying to burn holes in it with his eyes. He turned his head, leaning in a little bit closer than you were to him at the hospital. His hand moved to rest on your knee. And he said, "I've never met anyone like you before. I thought I was just going lay in the hospital bed until I was better. But you showed me kindness and care. I know you were just doing your job, but I'm grateful that you were there. That you were … you."

You didn't say anything. You were too busy trying to keep your heart from leaping out of your chest. You're sure if he'd looked, he'd see your tits jumping ever so slightly from the heaviness of the beating.

"Thank you for that. Thank you for everything you've done for me, Miss. I don’t know your first name. I’m embarrassed at how many ‘L/N’ households I went to looking for you.”

Your hand shot up to cover the smile that immediately bloomed across your lips. "That's not important. It's Y/N. And you're welcome. I'm happy I was able to help you. I didn't expect you to come here, though. I'm glad you did." You shifted, moving your knee so that your legs were touching. He didn't move his hand. He held it there, squeezing your knee gently.

"I didn't think I'd come here either. But I couldn't stop thinking about you. I know it's not appropriate for me to be here, but I had to see you again. I wanted to say thank you, in person." He turned his head and looked at you. You leaned in closer to him, your noses almost touching. "And maybe something else. Something that would make you feel as special as you made me feel when you took care of me."

You were so close to him you could feel the warmth of his breath against your cheek. He smelled like the air before a storm, and whiskey. But a little liquid courage never killed anyone.

"Kafka," you whispered, reaching up and touching his face. You were fidgeting with a small piece of his hair as you rest your forehead against his. "Kafka. I ..."

He sat up abruptly, "Oh shit! You're not married, are you? I should have asked, I'm so sorry for showing up here so late. Without any warning." He bowed to you and started for the door.

"Kafka! I'm not married. I'm not even seeing anyone right now. Please, come back. Come sit." You stood and took his hand, leading him back to the couch. "I was going to say I've never felt this way about a patient before. You make me feel like there's something more to life than just my job."

He looked at you, his eyes searching yours for any signs of dishonesty. He couldn't find any. "So, you don't mind me coming here?"

You shook your head. "I don't mind you coming here at all. I'm glad you did. I was just surprised, that's all. Please don't leave. Not yet." You held his hand tighter and urged him back down on the couch with you.

Pulling him back in, kissing him gently on the lips. "I've been wanting you to do that since the first time I saw you, too. But you in terrible pain when you came in. How did you have the presence of mind to want to kiss me when you were so badly beaten up?"

He laughed, "I wasn't beaten up, per se. I just didn't come out on top." He paused for a second, and then continued, "And the pain wasn't as bad as you think. I'm used to it. It's a part of my job. But being here with you, it's like I can forget all of that. And just be me. Kafka. Nothing else."

You leaned in and kissed him again, this time with more urgency. His lips parted slightly, and you could taste the chocolate on his tongue. You moaned softly, shifting so that your legs were wrapped around him. He pulled you onto his lap, and you straddled him, grinding yourself against his crotch.

"Oh my god," he moaned, pulling back slightly and looking into your eyes. "Y/N. You're so beautiful." He reached up and touched your cheek with his thumb, rubbing it gently.

You pulled his shirt off, tossing it to the floor. His chest was chiseled and smooth, his abs flexing slightly under his cute belly as he breathed heavily.

You ran your hands over his shoulders and down his back, feeling every muscle and every scar. You kissed his neck, biting it gently and sucking on his skin. "Kafka, I want you. I want you so much."

He pulled your shirt off and threw it next to his. "I'm gonna make you feel so good that you'll forget all about chocolate."

You stopped, pulling back from his face, and you laughed so hard for the first time in ages. "Oh, that might be the most serious thing anyone has ever said to me. Challenge accepted!"

He pulled you back into him and kissed you, his hands reaching around to squeeze your ass as you ground yourself against him. He picked you up and carried you to your bedroom, gently laying you on the bed before climbing on top of you.

You unclasped your bra and tossed it to the floor, allowing him to see your breasts. He gasped as quietly as he could manage, running his hands over them and squeezing them gently. "You're so beautiful. You know that?"

He leaned down and took a nipple in his mouth, sucking on it gently as his fingers worked at your pants. He slid them off, revealing your black lace panties. You'd never felt so exposed in your life. And you loved it.

"Kafka, please," you moaned as he sucked harder on your nipple, his hand moving down to rub your clit through your panties. "Please fuck me. I need you. I need you so bad."

He pulled back, looking at your face. "You want me to fuck you? You want me to make you cum? Oh-hoh baby, I will. I might even cum before you do! But don't lose faith. It's just, well, it's been a while? I guess? But that's not important right now." He leaned in and kissed you again, biting your bottom lip and sucking on it gently.

"It's ok, Kafka. I want you. I don't care if you cum before me. I just want you inside me. Please, please." You looked up at him with tears in your eyes. You couldn't believe you were begging like this, but you didn't care. You wanted him so badly.

He nodded and pulled your panties off, throwing them to the floor. He pushed his own pants down and pulled his boxers off with them, his cock set free.

You gasped at the sight. It was so much more than what you saw when he was in the tub. "Jesus, I-"

He looked down, "Oh. That?" He turned his head away, "Yeah, sorry. I'm sure you've seen um, better? But I make up for it in other ways! I promise, y/n. Just give me a chance."

You shook your head and smiled, "That's not at all what I'm trying to say here. There's not a doubt in my mind you won't fuck me stupid, Kafka." You giggled and reached your arms out to pull him down against you.

He positioned himself between your legs, rubbing the tip of his cock against your clit as he kissed your neck.

You moaned, "Ohhh, fuck. Yes. Do that." Your hand moved to his ass, squeezing it as he rocked against you.

He pushed himself inside of you slowly, stretching you out as he went. The slight sting you noticed dissipated as quickly as the onset. You moaned, your nails digging into his back as he started to thrust faster. "Kafka, oh my god. That feels so fucking good. More. I want more,  please."

He grunted, his cock sliding in and out of you as you arched your back, grinding yourself against him. He sucked on your nipple again, his tongue flicking over it as he fucked you harder and faster.

You couldn't believe how much he was making you feel. You hadn't had sex in so long, but this was different. This was something else entirely. He was with you. He wasn't just there to get himself off. You'd been with guys like that before and they, more often than not, left you with a (literal) bad taste in your mouth.

Your breathing quickened, and you could feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge. And the closer you got, the harder your nails dug into his muscular back. "Kaf-hoh shit. Y-that ... pl- fuck. 'M gonna cum ... very … very soon."

He pulled back slightly, looking at your face as you bit your lip, your eyes rolling back. "Me too, baby. Me too. You're so tight, and you feel so good. I can't believe I'm inside of you. Fuck. I'm gonna cum, Y/N. Oh shit, I'm gonna cum." He grunted again, his cock twitching inside of you as he came hard, filling you up.

You came with him, your pussy squeezing around his cock as he kept fucking you, slowing his thrusts until he stopped completely.

"Fuck," you whispered, reaching up and touching his face gently. "Kafka."

He smiled and kissed you softly. "RIGHT!?" 

You laughed through a yawn at the high energy he had when you first met, despite his injuries, and how he seems now. “Stay? Stay with me. I don’t want you to go. Tonight. Ever.” 

He held you close to him, kissing the top of your head and brushing your hair down as you drifted off to sleep against his warm chest.

"Just try’n get rid of me, y/n." 

@darkstarlight82 @katkusuo @kazutora-kurokawa

@arlerts-angel @southside-otaku @trevengersprincess

@bakubunny @reiners-milkbiddies

***If you guys absolutely hate this anime or don't give a shit, please please let me know so I don't keep writing and tagging you in stuff you don't care about! Thanks, mooties! <3***

[vladdyissues]

How do you feel about all this Sam x Danny (knowing we literally ship Vlad and Danny), I feel like if Sam finds out about a pompous relationship he would try to take Danny off Vlad's hands 😭 (I was thinking about a fanfic of that style, what do you think?)

(About the ship) I'd probably feel a lot more positive about Amethyst Ocean if Sam's character had been written a little better and their relationship wasn't bristling with so many red flags and contrary, counterintuitive moments. Like in S3E09, when Danny dreams of kissing Sam, wakes up screaming, and literally calls it "a nightmare". This is supposed to be the endgame relationship of the entire series? Come on, Butch.

But I don't hate AO. I tolerate it in canon and pretty much ignore it in fandom. Ship and let ship ✌ But when it comes to fanfic, it's all too easy to end up unfairly bashing the "unwanted" character in the love triangle, especially if the author already doesn't like the character.

Character bashing is the expression of hostility towards a character by fans. Bashing occurs in a wide variety of fandom activities and fanworks, such as fanfiction and meta posts, and takes many forms. It may be done by demonizing a character, referring to them with derogatory terms, or making them the subject of deathfics or spitefics. Discussion of character bashing is often the subject of drama, as fans may take personal offense at what they perceive as undeserved bashing. Fanlore, Character Bashing

I wrote a few fics of this nature long ago, and while they might have been mildly funny on the surface, they were really quite boring and out of character. Crackfic, basically. I kind of cringe just thinking about them because they fall under the fandom faux pas of "annoying female character with the canon romantic connection getting in the way of my beloved non-canon m/m ship".

This isn't to say you shouldn't write a fanfic about a shocked or jealous Sam trying to break up Danny and Vlad's relationship, but I think it should be handled with care—at least if you're trying to write Sam realistically or have a story with a semisweet or bittersweet ending. If you want to go the toxic, twisted, dark route—which is quite intriguing, to be honest—all that matters is making sure Sam doesn't turn into a parody or a punching bag. She's got to be believable, human, and at least somewhat true to her character.

Like, we know she loves Danny. (Unless she's planning on getting revenge, she isn't going to intentionally hurt him.) Her heart is broken, possibly her dreams, too. She's worried for him. She doesn't trust that Vlad hasn't brainwashed Danny or is manipulating him somehow. Why didn't Danny even tell her he liked Vlad, or that they had made peace with each other? Was Danny so repulsed by the thought of dating her that Vlad looked like a better option? Does she think she's responsible for Danny realizing he's gay or bi? Oof.

These are some of the questions I'd be asking myself before I even started writing. Of course, you're welcome to ignore me and proceed with your own concepts if you've already decided on how you want to write your fic. Whatever you decide to do, do it with all your spirit!

[deke-rivers-1957]

Scott’s Search For Love

It's night time and my friend Tom comes into my lab.

“Hey Scott. How's it goin?”

“I've been better.”

“Listen you gotta crash soon buddy. You’ve been up too long.”

“I know, I just didn't want to be alone tonight.”

“I know how you feel. C’mon and let’s talk about it.”

I decide it’s best not to argue so I follow Tom to the front room.

“Well I’m ready to hear ya out.”

“It's hard to start because I can't quite define it. Maybe it's just some kind of restlessness, a feeling of needing something more…or maybe it's just a problem that I have with women.”

“Oh I get it. You’re still sore about your marriage with Dianne falling apart.”

“Yeah. I keep thinking how much of a fool she made out of me, but I still think of the beginning, when it was fresh and young. I still can smell that little perfume she used to wear.”

“So why’s that making you hole up in the lab now?”

“I don’t know. I'm not sure if it's Dianne or the restlessness, or just the realization that I've been a fool. I want to do something more than what I'm doing. I don’t know, I just feel like something's missing in my life.”

Tom immediately stands up off the couch.

“What you need is to be thrown out of your comfort zone. Dancing girls as far as the eye can see. The Moulin Rouge.”

“Okay, okay. I guess I could use some fun. Let's go.”

“Great! I’ll get the car. Don’t worry about changing.”

I can’t even argue with him as Tom drives me to a place open all night and looks like an old fashioned saloon.

“This is the place?”

“Just wait till you get inside. Va va voom. In about 5 minutes a swinging little number’s gonna be coming your way. Fiery New York girl who doesn’t mince words. And boy does she like to take charge.”

“How are you so sure? I never exactly had women throwing themselves at me.”

Tom sits down at a table and I sit down on the other side.

“Now don’t get sore with me but I already called ahead of time and booked you with the crown jewel of these ladies.”

“You really wanted me to come here and be with this girl?”

“I always try to give you the best old buddy.”

All I can do is sigh since Tom does mean well. Even before I married Dianne he would try to get me dates with women he met.

“Well I guess I'll take a chance on her then. Maybe if I take your suggestion for once I might get at least a nice conversation.”

“There you go. At least you’re doing something.”

Some guys come up to our table and look right at me.

“Hey Tom who’s this dough boy?”

“That better not of been a crack about my weight.”

One of the guys gets in my face.

“And what if it was.”

I stand up and try to stare them down. Lack of sleep’s really affecting my judgement.

“You better knock it off.”

Things get ugly. Just as I'm about to get punched in the face I hear a commanding woman’s voice.

"Hey! There ain’t gonna be any fighting in this joint."

The guy steps back. Everyone turns to see who’s talking. Tom whispers to me.

"That’s Carmen."

She comes up to the group of guys.

"You oughta mind your own business when it comes to newcomers. If you don’t like it you can leave."

They scurry away.

"We’re sorry ma’am."

She turns to look at us and my heart skips a beat. I think I'm preparing myself to possibly have my heart broken.

"Hey Tom is this your friend Scott? You are new aren’t you."

"Yeah, I've never been here before."

"Well I’ll show you to my room. Follow me."

"Okay."

I get up and follow her. My heart's beating so fast I can barely breathe.

“This is it.”

I take a look into the room as she goes in

"This is uh…not quite what I imagined."

"What? Were you expecting this to look like a seedy motel room?"

"Well…yeah. I mean it's late and it's…you know."

"Listen. Just because I get paid for favors doesn’t mean I don’t have standards."

I feel slightly embarrassed about my faux pas.

"Oh no, no, of course not. I didn’t mean to imply that. I wasn't expecting your room to be this elegant as I didn't think you ladies lived here."

"Good now get on the bed."

"Okay."

I do as she says since I'm in enough trouble. As soon as I lay down on the bed I feel the fatigue hit me.

"Hey Scott."

"Yeah?"

She sits down in a chair and starts smoking a cigarette.

"You want a smoke?"

A part of me kind of wants to say yes. But only a small part so I push it down.

"No thank you. I don’t smoke. Or drink."

"Boy are you different."

I wince inside. This isn't looking good at all. I'm so out of my comfort zone I don't even know what she's going to do to me.

"This probably sounds like a dumb question, but…what're we doing in here?"

"Tom paid me to be with you for an hour. You can do anything you want with me."

There's something about paying a woman to do "favors" that doesn't sit well with me. I know Tom wants to help but I'm just not that type of guy.

"I'm not sure I want anything. I really just wanted to come here and have some fun and get out of a rut I'm in. Tom was telling me getting away from my comfort zone would do me some good. He wanted me to meet you because he said you'd be good for me."

"And he’s right. When patrons feel stuck in their sex life they come to me because I help them figure out what they want."

"Oh. What exactly do you think I'd want then?"

Carmen looks at me long enough to make me feel a panic attack coming on.

"First off why do you look like a drowned rat who hasn’t had so much as straw to sleep in and a piece of cheese to eat? I'm amazed Tom would bring you here when everyone can see the bags under your eyes. What do you have insomnia or something?"

At first I feel hurt because I took it as an insult. Then I start to understand that Carmen's saying this out of concern. I'm a little touched by that.

"Uh, I haven't been sleeping very well lately. I've been in a pretty deep depression. I don’t think being called a dough boy helped things."

"I heard that. It hurt you that much?"

Maybe it's because I'm just exhausted but I feel myself opening up to her and tell her things I haven't told any woman.

"Well I’ve already got low self-esteem about my weight as it is. And it seems like my money is more popular than I am being Duster Heyward's son who just sits in a lab all day. Outside of that I’m just…. fat. And unattractive."

"And says who?"

"Everyone. No one’s found me attractive. Not even the girls I’ve dated. Oh sure they never outright said I was fat and unattractive but they weren't exactly affectionate with me either. I’ve only been in one serious relationship to the point of marriage, but she just wanted my money. She didn't seem to care about me when I worked one too many nights in the lab or when I felt discouraged about a project. Even when I would take a break and try to give her all of my affection I just. Never got the same amount of that affection back. We ended up getting a divorce and she quickly went onto someone more fit. And not as ugly."

I can't help but feel myself spiral. I cover my face because of how overwhelmed I am.

"Hey. Let me speak for myself before you lump me in with everyone."

I take a deep breath and look at Carmen.

"Okay, sorry. Go ahead."

"Good. Undo your shirt."

At first I just look at her since I’m nervous about this but I do as she says. I just don't think this will end well.

“Okay. I’m ready.”

Carmen gets out of her chair and puts out her cigarette. The way she's looking at me makes me think I'm going to be in for a horrible time.

“Now hold still.”

I close my eyes so I don't see what she does when I feel her hand on my stomach. I wasn't expecting that since it's quite gentle. Her touch sends slight tingles through my body.

"Jeez are you constipated or stressed? Your stomach feels hard as a rock."

I have to laugh a little at that because it's true.

"I guess I’m both. I do tend to tense up when I feel stressed."

I try my best to relax as she rubs my stomach. It surprisingly isn't as hard as I thought it'd be since this is starting to feel nice.

"See you ain’t as bad as you think you are."

I open my eyes after not realizing I closed them.

"Yeah? You don’t think I look too fat?"

“Nah. Your stomach’s soft but it doesn’t droop over your belt.”

I let out a sigh of relief.

"So what’s your request?"

"Okay. I need a nap and well.. can I…lay my head on your lap? I’d like…. My head rubbed."

"Yeah. It ain’t a big deal."

"Oh okay."

I sit up and move a little closer to Carmen so that I can lay my head on her lap. I wasn't expecting her to say yes that quickly. I guess she's used to having weird requests like this.

"How long do you wanna nap?"

"I’ll say 30 minutes should be fine."

"Alright I’ll set a timer."

I watch her set a timer and feel her rubbing my head. It's the type of head rub that makes me realize just how stressed I really was. But now it's all just... floating away.

Time Skip

"Ok time's up.

I hear the timer go off and slowly open my eyes. That nap definitely helped me feel better. I almost don't even want to get off her lap because of how nice this was.

"Mmmm…"

"How was that?"

I decide it's best to sit up and look at her as I stretch.

"A lot better than a regular pillow. I’m not even kidding."

"I can tell. All you need is some cheese and you'd be a happy rat."

Maybe it's the way she says it but I can't help but chuckle. It never comes off as her putting me down but as a way to help me not feel so bad about myself. There's something about her that makes just want to take a chance in asking this.

"There is another thing I would like to do."

"Oh yeah?"

"Okay… I’d like to uh… go on a date. When you’re not you know doing all this."

"Alright I’m free from noon to 4."

"Oh. You really mean that?"

"I don't say anything unless I mean it. But just so you know I don't do any off the clock favors."

I can't help but blush from that. It does feel nice that even though she works like this, she still has standards where there's no pressure to "perform" with her.

"Oh, okay, okay. You won’t need to worry about that. I just don’t… really do that right away."

"Ok."

I'm still amazed that I really just asked a woman I just met out on a proper date. This is new and different for me that I'm a little worried about being too desperate.

"So, does that mean you’ll go out with me?"

"Sure where do you plan on going?"

“Well uh. You like Italian food?”

“Honey I am Italian. That would be perfect.”

This is turning out better than I thought. Carmen might actually be interested in talking with me outside of just her job.

"Great. What time do you want me to pick you up?"

"12:15 on Thursday."

"Okay 12:15. You know, I wasn’t expecting you to say yes to this."

"I wasn't expecting to have a patron wanting more than my typical favors so we're even."

She looks up at the clock.

"You should probably fix yourself up since it's close to an hour."

"Oh. Yeah."

I get off the bed and button my shirt up again. Maybe she has a special type of mirror but when I start to fix up my hair I could swear I actually look better.

"Thank you for letting me nap. I can’t wait to see you again on Thursday."

"I’m glad you had a good time."

"It was better than I was expecting. I guess I’ll be going now. I’ll see you Thursday. Have a good rest of your night."

"You too."

I wave as I leave her room. Tom must have had a good time too because he comes up to me with a smile on his face.

"What did I tell you Scott. You look great. Carmen fixed you right up."

"Yeah. You were right. She did fix me right up. I do feel pretty good actually. We’re going on a date Thursday."

We start going outside to the car.

"A date? Now that’s something to write home about."

"I know. I never thought she would agree to it in a million years. Plus it’s a real date. We’re going out for Italian."

“Excellent choice. You learn a lot about a woman just by where they agree to go on a date. Italian can mean anything and doesn't always require a checkbook.”

I realize he's right. Carmen could've suggested a more expensive place but she didn't. She's actually very easygoing and didn't make me feel like I needed to do anything to impress her.

"That's true. I didn't want to make it too fancy but I still want to take her somewhere nice."

"Well you're spoiled for choice with Italian places."

Tom gets in the car.

"Now let’s go home and get some sleep. 1 am just ain’t like it used to be."

"Yeah. A good nap on that nice cushion of hers really did me good but I'm still a little tired."

"Cushion? You don't mean her-"

I start to blush as I buckle my seatbelt. Of course Tom would think that since I did make it sound a little dirty.

"No, no I would never do that. Trust me. I meant her lap."

Tom laughs as he starts driving me home. I feel like I should explain what happened.

"I really opened to her about myself. She told me to unbutton my shirt because I said I wasn’t attractive and that everyone felt I was fat. I never had my stomach rubbed like that before."

"Not even with Dianne?"

"Oh. No. Dianne never really touched my stomach. Not like how Carmen touched it. You know. She probably did it because I was her patron."

Tom shakes his head.

"Nah those stomach rubs were real, pal."

"How do you know that?"

"There are many women that work there. My personal favorite’s Lady Marmalade. She told me a lot about how they operate. These women can tell what a newbie likes just by who they book."

"What? Seriously?"

"Oh yeah. Carmen’s bread and butter are men who can’t get it up. Psychology is a big part of the process. You over think things involving romance. That’s another thing they pick up on. Her bluntness eliminates that problem since she'd never do anything she didn't feel comfortable doing."

I admit that Tom's experience with these women is very useful.

"Yeah, she definitely is blunt. That I could tell. But that’ll mean she’ll tell me about my chances of a second date by the time we get the check right?"

"Definitely."

I start to feel a tad more confident about the date now that I talk through this.

"Well, if you’re right, at least I’ll know where I stand by the end of the date."

“You will.”

Once we get home we try to walk inside without waking up my Pa.

"Night, Tom."

"Night buddy."

As soon I get inside my room something just feels off. Or at least off compared to the dark hole I've been in.

“Is this hope? I think I feel good.”

I sit down on my bed then look at my reflection in the mirror. I notice that I no longer look as nervous, scared, or stressed out. I think back at the recent memory of lying on Carmen’s lap and her rubbing my stomach and then my head. It was the right decision to go.

“Now if only this date can be as good.”

I change into my pajamas then lay my head down on the pillows. I've been so restless for so long but now I'm actually looking forward to something in the near future. I can finally sleep peacefully now.

Tagging: @atleastpleasetelephone, @xanatenshi, @eapep, @jhoneybees, @hooked-on-elvis,

@vintagepresley, @i-r-i-n-a-a, @peaceloveelvis, @urbeatlemaniac, @another-identityofmine,

@iloveelvis2, @kittyyaponia, @your-teeth-glow-in-the-dark, @thetaoofzoe, @tupelomiss,

@lustnhim, @lucy114505, @sissylittlefeather, @rktismylife-blog, @wildhorseinkansas,

@pomtherine, @freudianslumber, @smokeymountainboy, @thelonelyheart, @be-my-ally

and @whositmcwhatsit.

[karenandhenwilson]

Let's talk about Tommy and Buck.

I would have wished, of course, for Buck to have his first date with a man to go more smoothly. But we already knew from the promo to expect some drama. And I have to say at least for once it wasn't over-the-top drama that might ruin any characters as it happened several times in the past.

I suffered a lot of secondhand embarrassment the first time watching the date because of Buck's nervousness and his helpless stammering before and also when Eddie showed up. I clasped my hands over my ears and flinched when Eddie eventually interrupted the date and Buck started blurting out this nonsense about going on to pick up women.

The thing is, as much of a knee-jerk reaction that was, it was also so very believable, and at a guess, I'd say there are many bisexual people out there who did have a very similar knee-jerk reaction at one point or another while figuring themselves out. I know I had such a moment.

In the conversation before Eddie shows up, we learn that Buck hasn't even really come out to himself yet. He is on a date with a man and keeps calling himself an ally. It needs, in fact, his sister to call him that he is not just an ally, for him to get it. 

The basketball game was on a Thursday, and I think we can assume from the way Tommy worded his question after the kiss that the date was Saturday two days later. From everything Buck does and says in 7x05 he really hasn't even started yet to work through any kind of realization about himself.

We also shouldn't forget that it wasn't only Eddie interrupting the date. There was also Marsol who I suspect is as much a stranger to Buck as she is to us. So he doesn't know who he is himself yet and suddenly sees himself in this situation of possibly having to explain himself not only to his best friend but also as a virtual stranger.

Of course, there was no reason to explain anything. But that's not what that kind of situation feels like. I think many of us queer people (and not only the bisexual people!) know exactly what kind of situation that is like when we feel for whatever reason that we have to explain ourselves for something as simple as who we are attracted to or not attracted to. It's an uncomfortable and intimidating situation.

So, I really believe that Buck's reaction here is one of the most true and honest things we have ever seen on the show. As uncomfortable as the secondhand embarrassment is, I think it's such an important scene to have to have out there.

Then there is Tommy's reaction to it. Tommy, who has been so very gentle and careful and understanding of Buck. Who shared with Buck a little bit about his own self-discovery, how he didn't dare to live freely for a long time. Who remained calm and gentle despite Buck's faux pas.

I think, if Buck hadn't blurted out this line about how they were planning to pick up some women later in the evening, Tommy would have been completely fine with whatever was said to Eddie and Marisol. I think he made it clear during the coffee date that he is completely okay with giving Buck whatever time he needs to figure himself out. That he is okay with them dating being kept on the down low, but that he draws the line as being a dirty secret Buck feels ashamed of.

And that is a line he has every right to draw. It doesn't take away anything from the support and gentleness he offered Buck. It doesn't diminish that at all. I think it's another very honest reaction, too, no matter how much any viewer might hurt for Buck when Tommy declares the date over and tells Buck he thinks Buck might not be ready.

Could he have communicated about it in a better way? Sure. But that's the expected TV drama.

I also think, for the character development of Buck, it was so very important that the ball was in Buck's corner after Tommy had led the whole of their interactions from the moment he came over to Buck's apartment until the moment he ended the date. Because this way, Buck had to show not only Tommy but also the audience that he isn't just there for the emotional discovery he is taken on, but that he is willing and ready to dive into it head first on his own accord no matter how confused he is.

The ball was in Buck's corner and he decided (after a little push from Eddie) that he sees something that's worth exploring in his relationship with Tommy. Something that's worth taking a risk for (even if he might have overshot by inviting Tommy to the wedding, but that's once more TV drama and just the next big thing happening on the show.)

I'm super happy with the storyline we got and I can only thank everyone, especially Tim and Oliver and Lou, that they did what Tim promised in one of the interviews and took so, so much care with this storyline. Generally, I don't trust the show writers because they disappointed so often (and did again in parts of this episode with the choices they made for the HenRen storyline), but in this, they gave us something truly precious and I'm so looking forward to seeing where they are taking Tommy and Buck next.

[blueskittlesart]

Feel free to ignore this but as someone who also goes to art school, I find it really interesting how other art schools also have a “don’t date your peers” sort of faux pa. Like so many people I know (including me) refuse to date anyone else who goes to my college 😭

I wonder why that is tbh, small school thing maybe?

being so serious i didn't have anything against dating other art school peers when i first came here and i think most freshmen dont but once you have one or two art school relationships under your belt you realize why all the upperclassmen avoid dating each other like the plague

[neonscandal]

Okay, if you were asked who are in JJK & BNHA that you can see based on canon that are gay/bi/pan/demi, which characters are they?

For me satoaugu and bakudeku are definitely not straight (yes, I ship them but I don't think they "must be into women only" like a post I just saw). Also, kaminari, jirou, toga, nobara, megumi, kenjaku....

Ah yes, a person with discerning tastes. ✨ While this feels like a sure fire way to get me into some hot water, let's dive right in.

✨🌈 Happy pride to the queer people in my phone 🌈✨

But especially these

Megumi "Only Interested in Compassion" Fushiguro - pansexual (very much choosing to overlook very subtle implications of siscon as a red herring to, of course, further contextualize ItaFushi). See also Gojo and the uncharacteristic Miwa agenda.

Satoru Gojo - Let's be so for real. Man is down astronomical for Suguru but I think there's still evidence/reason to believe he could be ace or demisexual. Can strength be conflated with love?

Kinji Hakari - waving the white flag on this one considering I'm 4 weeks behind and I don't know if there's been further clarification that might swing this verdict one way or another but support Hikari's love regardless of Kirara's gender expression/identity. Also, given current events, it'd be pretty weird if Gege slipped that in out of nowhere.

Kenjaku - 🗣️ IF GIVEN ENOUGH TIME, DO WE NOT ALL BECOME A LIL GAY!? I understand straight people probably don't have such realizations so I'm just going to sit with that reflection.

Nobara Kugisaki - be so for real. I think she had a misplaced crush in her idolization of Saori that made more sense when she left the bumble fuck countryside and could live her best life, out and proud with her muscle mommy girlfriend, Maki. Also explains, a bit, why Saori was ostracized where Nobara may have lacked understanding/context.

Maki - Plenty of gay icons without last names, queen. This one just happens to also be gay.

Eijirou Kirishima is almost so straight that he unintentionally makes a hard U-turn into flirting with queerness. His phrasing is baffling as he tends to pop up in those threads frequently with assumingly unintended innuendos but it is also reminiscent about how no one third wheels harder than a dude's girlfriend when he's with his best friend? I don't know if that makes sense but I'm throwing him in the mix as someone who maybe just needs some time ✨ regardless of the BakuDeku to KiriMina parallels.

Denki Kaminari - This kid has eyes and he uses them, gender be damned. A bi-disaster if I've ever seen one.

Minoru Mineta - IDK if his Deku confession was a translation faux pas or if Mineta, too, has fallen for the male lead's quintessential charm that wins over hearts and minds. While the Council on Bisexuality would fight me on this one... his membership is still pending.

Izuku Midoriya - I have it on good authority that Izuku is Bakusexual. Flustered by girls in the same way that any awkward and bullied kid might when encountering the opposite sex but his heart has always had its allegiance to one person. Whether that makes him gay, demi or even bi, I think it tracks.

Katsuki Bakugo - bi, pan or gay, the consensus is he is Not Straight.

Kyoka Jiro - in Smash, Jiro is a total fujoshi (she just like us fr). If you'll allow submitting MHA Smash into evidence, coupled with the canon main story, I say bi. A girl who knows Momo is stacked but also reasonably wants the attention and company of a Class 1A boy as a girl would at that age.

Himiko Toga - one thing about Toga. She is going to know and live her truth. Confidently bi ✨

Ochaco Uraraka - SPEAKING OF LIVING TRUTHS. She a little late but she has the right spirit.

Bonus, if including Kirishima didn't some how get me booed, I was going to add Yuta Okkotsu too but I thought better of it. 👉🏾👈🏾

[woah-uhuh-uhuh-uhuh]

Christine Canigula was socially ostracized & developed a complex to protect herself: an essay

(suddenly i NEED to infodump about Christine actually so here)

Something I only noticed on rewatch: the way Christine will say something silly and then just kind of gingerly wait to see if Jeremy reacts well to it before continuing, almost like she's asking permission?? (e.g. the gap after the first stanza of "Play Rehearsal"). And it's only after he riffs off her bowling alley bit that she feels comfortable talking about her personal feelings with him (right before "Guy that I'd Kinda be Into"). The same happens with their "weird noise" exchange immediately before "It's pretty killer to sit and chat with you." I know theater relies on being succinct, and that 'bonding over shared quirks' and 'feelings talk' are both just crucial parts of relationship development... but I don't think it's a coincidence that it always goes in that order!

It's like Jeremy has to pass these *trials of weirdness* before she feels safe opening up to him and it drives me BONKERS so I wrote a whole 1000 word thing about it under the cut and this got too massive and I'm sorry. Also some autistic Jeremy meta at the end if that sweetens the pot hehehe

Table of contents:

Why she was ostracized

How she was ostracized

How that might inform her pattern of relationship development with Jeremy and Jake

How gender caused Jeremy's experiences to differ from hers, and how that affects their current relationships with "popularity" and peer acceptance.

1. Why she was ostracized

I am just so certain that Christine has been bullied or at least majorly outcast for a lot of her life. She's very obviously neurodivergent and because of that she can have these obnoxiously deep and repetitive interests, she can't judge if a piece of information will be genuinely interesting to someone, and she doesn't take social cues very well.

She frequently interrupts people when they're talking (an ADHD symptom btw), even when they're literally talking to her about the thing she wants to hear!

(C: "Do you find that? Because I totally find that!" J: "Uh, yeah, I-" C: "-And no matter how hard I try....")

(J: "I know the last thing I deserve is another shot, but-" C:"Jeremy, just... say what's on your mind.") (girl I'm sorry but that's what he was doing..... I have a whole other thoughtpiece on how this particularly fucks with Jeremy while they're dating but thats another thing...)

She doesn't seem confident in her interpretations of people's emotions and she'll ask/talk about them point blank (both theirs and her own) in a way a lot of people would find rude

("Uh, you seem really nervous...") ("Popular people are fucked up! *mutual laughter* …I mean, you're one of them!") ("I am flattered, this is new / still I'm not sure what I should do" <- as a response to getting asked out, that's pretty bold! Plus the entire part where she laughs at Jake's "rich boy routine") (also compare and contrast to Jeremy's "I don't know what I'm supposed to say right now." idk. are your allistic stage dorks in the room with us right now motherfuckers)

I'd go on about her hyperfixations/special interests too but I think Play Rehearsal pretty much sums it up lol

2. How she was ostracized

All this to say that I am CERTAIN she spent a lot of her schooling having "nice girls" patiently let her sit with them at lunch for weeks at a time until they finally get sick of her rambling and faux pas. Only when they leave does Christine realize that they didn't actually care about anything she said... And this happens over and over and over. (I know this seems hella specific but I swear it's an actual phenomenon... at least I'm pretty sure? sdjflksjf)

But anyway, it's clear that by the time they're juniors, Christine has kind of (and I do only mean kind of) figured out what behaviour other people respond poorly to. And from evidence I stated in the intro, I think she's become really careful about which people she lets herself get attached to. She doesn't want this to ever happen again - which means if she's going to hang out with someone, she has to know that they actually care about her, that they know she will sometimes be obnoxious or blunt, and they'll still be okay with that forever.

3. Applying this to her canon relationships

You can extend this to Jake, someone who sees her in her element in drama rehearsal (the thing everyone finds annoying about her because she won't shut up about it) and STILL likes her. I think it's a totally valid reading that her bluntness with him later ("Upgrade") is just because she misreads him / doesn't quite get the social standard that she should be white lying instead. But I think you could also read her as testing the waters. If she's really going to commit to dating this guy, she's gotta know he's okay with her being herself. And the fact that this guy (and I think it's significant that he is a boy, for reasons I'll explain in the end note) genuinely seems to like her is a whole new level of peer validation ("I am flattered, this is new") -- so of course she's gonna fall at least a little! It doesn't hurt that he's "tired of being the person that everyone thinks that I am..." just like her!

Her history with being pity-liked makes Chloe's "advice," that Jake's just toying with her and is going to move on soon, even scarier, because that's genuinely happened to her (on a platonic level) so many times before.

Jeremy is also a good candidate from the beginning because he's weird he's a weirdo he doesn't fit in and he doesn't wanna fit in you ever see him without this stupid cardigan on? that's weird! And she keeps warming up to him not only because they're getting to know each other but because he gets progressively more willing to not only tolerate (as Jake does) but *participate* in her weirdness!

First, she does something weird and he tolerates it ("Play Rehearsal"); the next time she's weird, he participates! (bowling ball before GTIKBI). Then finally finally finally he initiates the weirdness and lets her join in! ("weird noises" exchange before GTIKBI reprise).

And notably, it is THIS moment that canonically signifies that they've hit the apex of their canon relationship development. If there was an achievement called "Befriend Christine," it would have popped up right then and there!!!

IN CONCLUSION: YOUR HONOR I LOVE THEM T_T

4: Christine vs. Jeremy: Gender differences & how that ultimately impacts their social goals

I also think all of this would have happened to Jeremy too if he'd been a girl. But because, generally, young boys feel less social obligation than girls to take pity on the autistic kid (and because boys tend to be more quickly recognized as autistic) he just ends up completely alone for most of his school life (Michael nonwithstanding - and yeah there's an important distinction between your childhood friend putting up with you and knowing that, woah, I guess literally nobody else ever will).

Meanwhile, Christine has had people "put up" with her, and she's SICK OF IT!

That's part of why their complexes are so different, because Christine is trying to check everyone she meets to make sure they'll be okay with her weirdness before she gets attached, Jeremy is trying to eliminate his weirdness altogether because he's never even experienced his peers listening out of *pity* so how the hell can he expect someone to ever listen to him out of *interest?*

Jeremy has never had someone pretend to like him before, so he completely lacks Christine's fear of befriending someone who secretly hates you. He doesn't realize how bad it'll hurt him if he destroys his real self for popularity, if he befriends people who would have bullied his real self. He doesn't know what disingenuous friendship feels like, so like a very young Christine he's still actively trying to get there because he thinks it's the only kind of validation he'll ever get.

Do you see what im saying? Do you see it???? AUAUGUGUUGGH

THANK YOU FOR READING!!! If you have thoughts or even rebuttals please share i am so desperate to discuss the blorbos

[wearesorcerer]

How I Learned that Sleep is a Death Spell

I do not know how word from Mithral Hall had managed to reach the home of the Lórëlindalë in Arvandor nor why it was that I was selected to answer the call. That's probably from hitting my head after falling out of the portal that had opened ten feet above the floor of the stronghold's main receiving hall. Still, my rather abrupt and graceless appearance was not the biggest faux pas an outsider made that day before the shield dwarves. A random elf appearing out of nowhere unceremoniously is nothing compared to a goblin attempting to gain entry by passing himself off as a halfling. Whatever mercy stayed the dwarves' hands proved a godsend, as that goblin was a capable scout and more than willing to aid us. Nor was I alone of the faerie folk to come to the shield dwarves that day. No doubt the fair swordmaster would have wanted a better entrance to make him feel less out of place than he already did. I myself felt sheepish for other reasons: given the two dwarves who joined us -- both in heavy plate, one bristling with weapons of all descriptions, the other a devotee of Moradin -- it seemed a certainty that they'd wanted someone with more insight into the arcane than I had, and it's not like I'd made a good impression of my skills with that performance. As they say in Tethyr, c'est le vie. But beggars cannot be choosers, so despite our discomfiture we were quickly appointed to our task. It was overly simple: enter the Underdark and verify rumors of an impending incursion the drow and perhaps their allies were planning on Mithral Hall. Nothing in the Underdark is ever simple, which probably accounted for our group's great deal of experience relative to such a task. It took maybe an hour of spelunking before we came upon an advance party of hobgoblins; their leaders, one of sorcerous might and another whom I didn't have time to assess, rode their giant lizards high upon the opposite wall of the cavern. We were outnumbered two-to-one. As the dwarves charged, leaving us elves at the chamber's entrance, it became apparent that this was an ambush: our party divided, others set upon us, likely laying in wait. The dubiousness of the early incursion proved coincidental, as our roguish goblin didn't seem to be bound by notions of greatly extended kinship. I say this not because I recall specifically what the goblin did, just that he didn't try to stab us in the ensuing melee. The klink of the warrior dwarf's hammer as it split hobgoblin skulls and was quickly swapped for a variety of other weapons only barely managed to cover the prayers his compatriot intoned to the Forge Father as they held the front line, while my saber and the swordmaster's secret blade-twisting techniques were enough to fend off the few assailants on our end. It took one spell from the sorcerous goblinoid for me to realize we were in trouble. But it did give me an idea. I reached into the purse manpurse large, conspicuous pouch on my side for the only spell components I carry: rose petals. I grabbed a handful, whispered an incantation as I drew my hand up in an arc, and blew. The petals flew towards the ceiling on a swift breeze, forming a cloud around the hobgoblin, then stopped suddenly before imploding upon him. The hobgoblin blinked, shook his head a few times, then went limp as slumber -- and gravity -- took hold of him. He fell. His lieutenant and the lieutenant's lizard mount, being directly underneath him, were unable to get out of the way in time. They, too, fell. All three fell upon the front line, hobgoblin and dwarf alike. But the dwarves are a hale folk and surprisingly nimble for short men with short legs wearing large panels of metal over every inch of their bodies, so in the end were more than fine. Mostly. The same cannot be said for what had remained of the hobgoblin advance party, now a pile of limbs squashed beneath the broken remains of their commanding officers and a horse-sized reptile.

-From an account of an Underdark excursion written by Árëlómion, scion of the Lórëlindalë, moon elf bard.

This was my first Forgotten Realms campaign (though it turned out to be a one-shot), back in late Fall of 2005 (my first semester of undergrad). The DM was a friend of mine (whom I was crushing on hard at the time) and the other players were his suitemates (save one, a mutual; he effectively took the place of the remaining suitemate, who either couldn't or didn't want to play). The other noteworthy bit about the session was that I was experiencing my first bout of acute hyperglycemia: I was not yet diagnosed with type 1 diabetes, but had anyone recognized my thirst and trips to the bathroom for what they were, I would have been a textbook case. I still managed to pull off killing much of the assault squad and ending the combat with a single 1st-level spell (as a ninth-level character, though that didn't affect the spell's save DC or power at the time).

Árëlómion was meant to be the elfiest elf bard that ever did elf bard. "Fop" doesn't even begin to describe him/them. Yes, I dug through a Quenya-English dictionary to make those names. Surprisingly, no, Árëlómion is not a well-made character; I got lucky with the spell working. I have since made the character a cover identity for another, but in looking at the character sheet I'm tempted of rebuilding him/them.

[thechargrey]

(S3e3) Something struck me a bit strange about the locker room interaction when Richard makes the comment "Like a panther. Sexy, no?"

The comment about the panther sounds completely serious. I don't think that was a joke or a setup. And after Isaac makes his comment about that being gay, Richard follows with "Well I'm gay...for Zava." The pause there can be read as a setup for a joke which I think is how a lot of people have taken it, but the first part can also be read as a complete sentence for him. He's far too quick about adding the second part once there'sa pause, as though he realizes he may have committed a faux pas.

Now it's entirely possible thay Richard is just French and doesn't land english humor very well, but it's also possibly he's french and they just don't have the same hangups towards same-sex attraction as British people do, and that he didn't think about that until no one jumped in to agree with him. So he added something to the end that would help with that, which I think is also a truth for Richard: some men are just plain attractive, Zava being one of them. For the Brits this made it so they could agree Zava's attractive without having to label themselves Gay or Bi. But for Richard? I read this as Richard genuinely not having the same hangups over the label of Gay, which feels very french of him anyway.

And since I've been rewatching the series I noticed something else when Kelley asks the team to sign up for Bantr and Colin asks his famous line.

When Colin says "like Grindr?" It's not the whole locker room that looks at him strangely. You can see Isaac doesn't react at all, neither do the other two players in the shot. Not AT ALL. Not like they're unjudgmental of Colin suggesting Grindr, but instead like they don't have any idea what Grindr is. To them it's just an app, not a gay app, an app they don't KNOW ANYTHING about. They're so straight what Colin asks doesn't even register.

In fact the only two people in the locker room who react to Colin's words are Keeley and Richard. And of course Keeley knows what Grindr is, she's knows social media apps. But why does Richard? I don't think he's judging Colin there, I think he sees Colin for a second in a way that no one else does. It's the look of one lgbtq+ person looking at someone, REALLY LOOKING at them to see if they're maybe a little lgbtq+ too.

Now what we do know about Richard's sexuality is based entirely on what he's said to this point. He does seem to enjoy having sex with women. And that his sexuality is tied to his French identity in some ways.

But it seems to me that Richard does not say that joke or look at Colin bc he dislikes Gay people. It seems to me those things happen bc Richard also appreciates men the way Colin does.

Anyway I'm ready for a conversation between Richard and Colin to happen too this season. Or for Richard to defend Colin if it comes out and there's a hint of a negative reaction. Or for any number of scenarios to happen...