#i just don't want you to get the wrong idea

[gumii-bearr]

idea maybes

academic rival/nerd satoru… him acting all high and mighty and then is an utter virgin (but you are tew so you too together are hopeless)

YESSSSSSSS HAHAHAHA

thinking about... ❝ hopeless nerds ❞

featuring... satoru gojo

content warning: MDNI (18+), afab!reader, nerd!virgin!gojo, nerd!virgin!reader, academic rivals, two dorks, gojo is such an asshole, smut, creampie, praise kink, masturbation, inexperienced dorks tryna bang, dare i say crybaby dom gojo, sexual tension, somnophilia, sexually frustrated nerds

author's note: im sorry i haven't posted in a while!!!! my town has flooded and we've lost power a few times and i can't leave my house :,)

── nerd!gojo immediately pissing you off the moment he opens his fucking mouth.

── nerd!gojo who shares a few classes with you and he's always talking over you, has to prove your points wrong even when you back them up with facts and research.

── he does it to make you mad, you know he does. he does it because it's so easy to make you mad and it's fucking cute how your nose scrunches and how you fold your arms over your chest and give him the cold shoulder the rest of the lesson.

── "fuck you, satoru."

── "oh you wish, sweetheart."

── nerd!gojo who purposely sits next to you in class because he knows his presence drives you up the wall.

── he points out holes in your research, steals your pens off your desk, leans on your shoulder and stays there no matter how much to elbow his side, there is no peace with him.

── nerd!gojo who is tied for best grade in the class with none other than you. and fuck it makes him mad, though he would never admit it.

── nerd!gojo who teases you when you're even a single point behind him when you get your grades back.

── nerd!gojo who never hears the end of it when you do better than him on a test or essay.

── nerd!gojo who may find you annoying, but he also finds your competitiveness and smart-ass demeanour fucking hot.

── you're the only person to ever one-up him. give him a run for his place as the smartest guy in class.

── you're single-handedly his motivation to do better in class. not because he wants to, but because he needs to win.

── you're so smug when you win and you're so hot-headed when you don't. he starts to find it fucking confusing when you bicker with him or insult his intelligence and he finds it... hot.

── you could be calling him every colourful name under the sun and he would just stand there and take it with a shit-eating grin plastered across his face and his eyes peeking over his sunglasses and staring at your pretty lips.

── nerd!gojo who is also virgin!gojo, which you would never have guessed with how he holds himself– always so outwardly confident and always has soooo much to say.

── virgin!gojo who has maybe kissed two girls his whole life, forced to hole himself up in his dorm and fist his cock when he's so beyond frustrated.

── virgin!gojo who finds himself starting to think about... you.

── virgin!gojo who thinks about burying his virgin cock inside you, fucking you stupid on his cock since you always seem to have something to say.

── you find it fucking weird when he doesn't shoot back with a sarcastic comment one morning, his eyes unable to meet yours.

── now you know something's wrong because it always makes gojo's day when he sees your face flush and watches you stomp around all angry and annoyed at him.

── virgin!gojo who doesn't know what to do when he's cornered by you in the library, and for the first time, he sees you be genuine toward him.

── "aw, you care about me."

── "you know what? forget it."

── virgin!gojo who knows he needs to just shut his big mouth for once and he finally does– by slamming you against the closest bookshelf and messily kissing you like his life depends on it.

── virgin!gojo who realises he's super out of practice when it comes to kissing... or maybe you're both bad.

── virgin!gojo who panics when he gets you back to his dorm room, clumsy fingers pulling your clothes off while you nervously pull at his.

── it's slow and it's messy and there's very obviously an elephant in the room that neither of you want to address.

── but you finally bite the bullet.

── "i'm a virgin."

── "you telling me no one's ever wanted to fuck that bitchy attitude out of you?"

── "don't piss me off."

── virgin!gojo who admits he too is a virgin.

── the two of you acknowledge that there's been a sexual tension brewing between you two for a while... so maybe you should just fuck it out.

── virgin!gojo who sinks to his knees, throwing your thighs over his shoulders and pressing his curious tongue against your soaked slit.

── no one's ever touched you like that– you're getting riled up just seeing him between your thighs.

── virgin!gojo who is finally fucking quiet and lets you show him when you guide him on how to finger you. you show him where to touch you, how to touch you, where to lick and suck on you.

── and virgin!gojo who listens and he's a fast learner because he wants to please you.

── and when virgin!gojo finally sinks his huge fucking cock inside you. you nearly fucking scream.

── and virgin!gojo who has no idea he's big. no one's ever seen his cock, or felt it. he's had nothing to compare it to–

── "you're so fucking big."

── "oh, yeah? you like it, baby?"

── virgin!gojo who didn't think he'd like dirty talk as much as he does. but he likes how you whine and moan just from his voice, how he can rile you up and have you soaking his dick and the sheets just from telling you what a good girl you are.

── but also virgin!gojo who is a fucking whiner when he's getting close to his high. your virgin cunt is so warm and tight, he's never experienced such fucking bliss.

── he's whining about how good you feel, how he's never felt something so fucking mind-blowing. he just keeps fucking talking cus if he doesn't he's gonna cum.

── and virgin!gojo who fucking cries when he cums because he's on cloud fucking nine. his hips slap erratically, his thrusts are shallow and fast as he approaches his high and his fists curl into the sheets by your head to keep him grounded.

── and you just wrap your arms around his neck, hold him close as he breathes in your intoxicating scent, arms wrapped around you as he keeps his cock buried inside you alongside the ropes of cum he messily spilled inside you.

── and nerd!gojo who keeps his cock buried inside you all night, unable to part from your tight warmth.

── and you don't mind, you just pet his hair and tell him how good he did.

── and of course, nerd!gojo who wakes you up with quiet breathes by your ear, his hips slapping against your plush ass because he can't get enough of you.

── nerd!gojo who makes it his mission to make you cum. obsessed with watching you fall apart on his tongue and his fingers, or on his cock or his thigh.

── really just nerd!gojo who finds out a lot about himself and is no longer virgin!gojo because of you.

author's note: someone bring me a NERD RIGHT NOW

permanent taglist: @exclusiverinaa @starpachinko @kentotism @gumisueme @arcanefeelings @cyslips @sojumamii @naammiii @jvpit3rr @nvvxlaya @2ukika @ashyiiy @jud3thedude @antiblfanon14 @capsule-losing-contact @mrs-okkotsu222 @somethinglikero @raya4643 @julieannah @arasakaa @luciferslover @re-tired-succubus @xastoriaaurax @girlexpensive @sobbingscripter @bakuhoe37 @doechiiyz @evergumi @showtimejoseph @kimkimoruo

[starshinedreamer]

Alrighty y'all, grab a chair and get comfy whilst I yap about my son, my pride and joy, the greatest thing to ever happen to me, my D&D OC: Raymond Foxwood. He is a Wood Elf Druid with the Researcher background and a Neutral-Good alignment (Images at the very end).

I haven't figured out what his voice sounds like yet. I'm thinking he may kind of have an accent? But like it's barely there. I do have an idea for a possible Japanese voice claim: Souta from the movie Suzume.

His best friend? I guess it would be my friend's D&D character. Her name is Topaz and she is a Dragonborne. Not besties, but pretty close.

Ooooooo boy, I got a whole playlist my friend and I have been cooking up for this sad little fella. Here's a couple of them that I think describes him best:

-"The Moss" by Cosmo Sheldrake

-"Rom-Com Gone Wrong" by Matt Maltese

-"When She Loved Me" by Sarah McLachlan

-"Home" by Cavetown

-"Valentine" by Laufey

-"Love Like You" by Rebecca Sugar

He's like, dealing with a heavy breakup until "Valentine" when he meets his current partner :)

4. "I do Adore" by Mindy Gledhill

5. Nope! But I actually thought about it when I was first creating his character just to see how he would act with other dynamics.

6. A scientist. More specifically, an ecologist. He loves nature and learning about all there is to know about life and the world. He also likes finding ways to help others, so maybe even a pharmacologist?

8. Writing, researching, reading, gardening, and making little insect and animal models because he is a NERD™ /lh<3

9. He generally takes good care of his physical health. Although, his flaw is "Most people scream when they see a demon. I stop and take notes on its anatomy," soooo. "For science" he says. "It's for the greater good" he says.

10. Well he's trying his best. But sometimes anxiety just surprises you and all of the sudden you're spiraling and things seem much worse than they are and pfffft whaddya meeeeaaaan I'm sorta self projecting? But he is the kind of person who feels bad about asking for help and then sort of holds it all in.

11. Inspirations were taken Link from The Legend of Zelda series (mainly BOTW) and Howl from Howl's Moving Castle for his design. Everything else was based purely on my own self indulgences for a nerdy elf character (and the songs my friend keeps sending my for him).

12. Same response as question 2 :)

13. No not really, but he is fighting against an organization that keeps threatening and trying to burn down the library he works/lives in with the librarian: Amanita (Ama, Anita, or Nita for short). Amanita is the person who raised and took care of Raymond after his family died in a fire. A fire caused by the same organization who's trying to harm them now. This is his main reason for joining a campaign; to get stronger and protect his loved ones.

14. This one flippin poison dragon we fought. Or maybe that's just me because I really didn't want to let them leave alive. I don't think Raymond necessarily hates anyone.

15. That all honestly depends on how the rest this campaign will play out. My friend has told me that they all did die a couple times, and we almost died to the STINKIN DRAGON but that's not important right now. But L O R E wise, he'd probably still do his researcher stuff until he's really old. Then he'll write books and share his stories :)

16. If they were alive, then I could see him having a great relationship with his parents since they were also big nerds like him. His relationship with Amanita is also great, and he really wants to protect her since she has done so much for him.

17. YESSSSSS! He loves sharing his knowledge with others and would do such a great job teaching kids. Ohhhh this is such a good one, yes he would feel bad if he had to leave them.

18. He/Him :>

19. Biromantic Asexual. His love language in giving is Acts of Service, and Quality Time for both giving and receiving.

20. A longbow and rocks. He has a cantrip spell called "Magic Stone" which lets me make a ranged attack by throwing small pebbles or stones. I like to call this spell the "RAYMOND, STONE 'EM" spell because its funnnnyyyy.

21. hmmmmmmmmmm Actually, I'm not sure! I guess maybe "Nothing You Can Take From Me" from The Hunger Games: The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes.

22. Will generally go for the non-violent option (more of a lover), but if initiatives are rolling, he'll fight.

23. Extremely. He'll show up with a new tire to fix the flat one, and an extra one for any future situations.

24. Undecided

25. Not singing out loud, but he would definitely hum to himself! :)

26. Irises, forget-me-nots, and bluebells

27. Symbolism wise, a deer. 'Just because' wise, a rabbit, a fox, and a kitty cat :3

28. The Nerds™ (found at the end of this post:) ).

29. Cozy stuff, lo-fi, books, plants, leather notebooks, and an overall sort of cottage core mixed with academia aesthetic. (Mood Board made in Canva :>)

30. Accepts this as their new life(yippee!). They have now been adopted. Will try to find a way to bring up their interests in conversations.

Fuck it, OC brain rot won. Get ready for the Secret Ask List

1) Does your OC have a voice claim, if so who?

2) Who's your OCs best friend? How did they become best friends?

3) What song describes your OC?

4) What song describes your OC and their partner/love interest?

5) Do you ship your OC with a Canon character? If so who?

6) If your OC is in a fantasy setting, what profession would they be in the modern day?

7) Vice-Versa! If your OC is in the modern day, what fantasy class would they be? Would they be a different race?

8) What hobbies does your OC have? What do they do to unwind?

9) How does your OC handle their physical health? Do they take care of themselves?

10) How does your OC handle their mental health? Do they take care of themselves?

11) What was your inspiration for your OC?

12) Does your OC interact with other people's OC? If so, who's their best OC friend?

13) Does your OC have a rival? How did it start?

14) Who's a character your OC cannot stand! It's on sight when they see them!

15) Will your OC ever retire? Do you see them making it?

16) How's their relationship with their parents? Are they alive?

17) If your OC has kids, are they a good parent? Do they ever feel guilty if they have to leave them?

18) What are their pronouns? What would they like to be called?

19) What's their sexuality? What's their love language both giving and receiving?

20) If they fight, what's their weapon of choice?

21) What song best describes their relationship with their enemy?

22) Fight or Flight? Are they a lover or a fighter?

23) Is your OC reliable? Can I call them up at two in the morning if I have a flat tire?

24) Can they play any instruments? If so, what do they play?

25) Are they the kind of person who can't resist a good song? Can I catch your OC singing to themselves while they do the dishes?

26) What flower do you associate your OC with?

27) What's their spirit tamagotchi? Or an animal you associate them with?

28) What clique would they be in? (Draw them in the clothes of said group!)

29) Imagine a mood board for your OC! What's on it? (Make it if you want!)

30) My OC and your OC are friends. This isn't a question. I'm not asking. (How do they respond?)

[brawberryz]

You think i'm weird?

Damian Wayne × BatSis! Reader 《Platonic!》

Note: English is not my first language, sorry if there is any translation error

You had noticed that Damian was more distant than usual, his self-centered personality and confident tone had almost completely disappeared

You weren't stupid, you knew something was wrong, you were his older sister, maybe you had different mothers and were raised in different environments but that doesn't mean you didn't understand

You said you were going to confront him on the next patrol, you needed answers and as the excellent detective you were, you were going to get them

_

"Is there something bothering you?"

You said suddenly as the two of you sat in front of a building, it was the right time to talk, there was no one who could interrupt.

"What do you mean?"

Damian asked as if he didn't know what you meant.

"You're acting strange, like something was bothering you..."

You said as you stared at him, you knew something was wrong, maybe you didn't say it all the time but you cared too much for him, maybe sometimes you fought and it seemed like you wanted to kill each other and sometimes it was true, but still there was a part of your head that hated the idea that he, your brother, your little brother was in danger or sad.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

Damian seemed to simply ignore the subject and want to change the conversation, your brow furrowed at such a response.

"I'm not stupid, Damian, tell me what's wrong? Did you fight with dad again or what?"

You sat a little closer to him, you were going to find out what was wrong with Damian even if it would take you a thousand years

"It's not that, it's just that..."

His voice trailed off in the middle of the sentence, he was hesitating to tell you, he seemed downcast, that wasn't the Damian you knew, he would never have doubted anything

"You... you think I'm weird?"

A laugh came out of your lips and you started laughing like crazy, Damian had never seen you laugh so much in his life as now

"WHAT ARE YOU MAKE FUN OF, STUPID!, ugh I knew I shouldn't tell you, you never take anything seriously"

Damian crossed his arms looking at you angrily, I didn't understand what was funny about the situation, he was telling you something personal and you just... you just laughed!?

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry! But seriously I've never heard anything so funny in my life"

You tried to stop laughing, you wiped away a tear that fell from your eye before you could speak

"Seriously you ask, of all people you ask me that?"

You said ironically looking at Damian, he just shrugged his shoulders and looked away

"Damian, we are vigilantes, there is nothing normal in our life, the strange thing would be if something was normal, you are literally the son of a very dangerous assassin and I am the daughter of a villain"

You let out a small laugh while saying that, but you saw that Damian's mood didn't change so you decided to get serious

"But hey, seriously, if you are weird but so what? We are all weird and you shouldn't be ashamed of that, I could say that I am weirder than you and I don't care"

Damian was surprised by your words, it was the first time he saw you talking seriously, he always thought you were too stupid and childish but what you just said really surprised him

"Thanks... I think"

"You're welcome, but don't be ashamed of being weird, let's be weird together, what do you think?"

You said giving him a smile as you put your arm around his shoulders and brought him closer to you, it was the first time you had gotten so emotionally close to Damian, you thought he hated you or something but apparently it was far from reality

"That... that's fine with me"

For a second you could see a small smile on Damian's face, that made your heart feel good

A few minutes passed before Damian spoke again

"You dare tell someone about this conversation and I'll cut your throat"

And there he was again the same old Damian, well at least those were the best minutes of your life before Damian went back to being Damian

"Whatever you say, Mr. weirdo"

You let out a laugh as you said those words

"I'M SERIOUS, YOU DARE TO TELL SOMEONE AND I'LL KILL YOU!"

Damian spoke angrily, punching you in the arm

"Hey! That's enough, but stop doing it... HEY, STOP IT, IT HURTS!!"

You shouted, trying to dodge Damian's punches. God, I think you missed the emo Damian...

I imagine the relationship between Damian and BatSis! Reader like that of gumball and anais, i love writing about them, they are so silly

(*^▽^)/★*☆♪

[spiderb00]

- FAM OUT #5

Sophia Laforteza x reader  fam/kids out masterlist

“on a quiet night, no one expected it, but something was wrong with Yoonchae. And now, you and Sophia will face it together” 

Genre – fluff, angst?        Warnings – no one knows who Evie is 

Now playing – Unstable, by Justin Bieber Ft. The Kid LAROI 

The moonlight coming through Yoonchae's window was the only thing that allowed her to see in the dark room, and even though it wasn't much, the maknae still didn't care. To tell the truth, Yoonchae wasn't even fully aware of where she really was. Was she at home? Was she at the Kats'? Was she at Yn and Sophia's? She had no idea. The pain and fever spoke louder than her thoughts.   

Getting out of bed with some difficulty, Yoonchae tried to walk to the bedroom door. Holding her stomach, the younger girl moaned in pain, stopping walking and leaning on the bedroom walls for a moment.  

“Mom...”   

It was the only thing that echoed off the walls of Yn's house, all the rooms extremely quiet except for the moans and complaints of pain coming from Yoonchae's room.   

“Mom, please...” Still without an answer, Yoonchae continued walking, opening the bedroom door and trying to walk down the dark hallway.   

Meanwhile, in the kitchen, you were resting your back comfortably on the counter, drinking water. Thirst had caught you in your sleep, and as quiet as the whole house was, you could have sworn you saw someone muttering something. Deciding to see if everything was all right, you left the empty bottle on the counter, Scooby following you faithfully while Max stayed in bed with Sophia.  

Starting up the stairs, you heard another moan of pain, which sounded a lot like Yoonchae, and before you could even hurry, Max's bark echoed through the house, signaling that he had gotten up to investigate what was wrong, just like you.   

“Mom...”  

That was all you needed to hear to know it was Yoonchae's voice. Hurrying up the stairs, you found the girl at your bedroom door, slightly bent over as if in pain.   

“Yoonchae?” You said, coming close to the maknae, putting your hand on her shoulder.   

“Mom, please, my belly hurts.”   

Not even having time to think about what the girl had called you, you put your hand on Yoonchae's forehead, seeing how burning she was.   

“God, you're burning up with fever, Yoonchip.” As soon as you closed your mouth, the younger girl's body fell apart around you.   

“YOONCHAE!” 

Quickly taking the little girl into your arms, you opened the bedroom door, placing her in the empty space of the bed. Max and Scooby were barking, as if they knew exactly what was wrong in the room, and you quickly tried to wake Sophia without taking your eyes off Yoonchae.   

“Sophia!” You tried, shaking your girlfriend lightly, and trying to keep Yoonchae awake. “Come on baby! Yoonchae, don't close your eyes!”   

It was all too much, and you didn't want to panic. No, you had to stay calm.   

“Mom, please, my belly hurts a lot.” Yoonchae said, her voice hoarse, like you'd never heard it before.   

“I know baby, I'm waking Sophia up.” You said, trying to calm the girl down and trying to wake up the Filipina, who seemed to be very far from the real world in her sleep.   

“Sophia!” Calling out once more, you moved a little away from Yoonchae, walking over to your girlfriend's side of the bed and shaking her harder.   

“WAKE UP!” Stunned, Sophia woke up in a jump, seeing you standing next to her on the bed. Looking at the clock on the bedside table, Sophia narrowed her eyes, the digital clock reading 02:34 in the morning.  

“Baby, we have a problem.”  

Returning to the side of the bed where Yoonchae was, you grabbed the younger girl's forehead again, begging the heavens that her temperature was more normal.   

“ Damn, she's still burning.” You said, putting pillows under Yoonchae's head and looking at Sophia. “Baby, Yoonchae's burning up with fever, I've been calling you for a while. We've got to get to the hospital,” you said, barely having time to breathe.   

Quickly getting out of bed, Sophia finally understood what was going on. She took Yoonchae in her arms and felt her temperature with her hands.  

“Mom, no hospital, please.” Yoonchae said to Sophia, making the older woman look questioningly in your direction, seeing you shrug and go into the closet to put on clothes other than pajamas.   

“Stay down, baby. I'll be back in a minute.” Sophia said, leaving Yoonchae lying down and walking hurriedly towards you.   

“She called me 'mom'.” Sophia said, as she entered the closet you shared, watching you take off your old hoodie and put on a more presentable sweater.   

“I know, she called me that too, I think she's delirious with fever.” You said, finishing putting on your sweater. “We have to get her to hospital as soon as possible, baby.”   

“I know. Can you take her to the car while I pack a bag with our stuff?” Sophia asked, putting on one of your sweaters and exchanging the shorts she was wearing for pants.   

“I'll wait for you outside.” You said, giving Sophia a kiss and heading towards where Yoonchae was.   

Carrying Yoonchae bridal style to the car, you gently placed the girl in the back seat of the car, trying to remember if she had eaten something wrong, or done anything that had left her in this state. You were stressed, you knew the girls were working hard for their comeback, but you didn't want to think of it as exhaustion, you didn't want to have to shout at anyone for overworking a seventeen-year-old girl.  

“Mom?!”   

“I'm here baby, it's okay. Sophia will be down in a few minutes.” You said, running your hands through Yoonchae's hair as you tried to get her to be quiet.   

“Are we really going to the hospital?” The younger girl asked, her eyes downcast, and if you could, you would transfer everything she was feeling to you.   

“I'm sorry, sweetheart, but your fever is too high.” You saw a small tear run down Yoonchae's eye, and wiping it away, you kissed the maknae on the forehead. “Hey, don't cry, I'm here with you.”  

“Can I call Evie when I'm there?” Yoonchae asked, making you look confused. And before you could ask who 'Evie' is, Sophia was running to the car, telling you to drive. 

“Sophia is with her, I just wanted to let you guys know what's going on.” You said into the phone, Yoonchae's parents on the other side of the line. “The doctors have given her some medication, just enough to bring down her high fever and they're investigating where the stomach ache is coming from, but it looks like it's just something she ate.”   

Walking back and forth in the hospital hallway, you had your phone stuck to your right ear, Yoonchae's parents were calm on the other side of the line, a stark contrast to how you were a few minutes ago. Despite everything, their calmness made you start to calm down too, and thanks to the hospital, Yoonchae had stabilized and stopped “ delirious”.  

“I trust you and Sophia, Yn. Just keep sending me updates and if she doesn't get better we'll buy the first plane ticket to Los Angeles.” Yoonchae's mother said, hearing your tired sigh on the other end of the line.   

“I just... got scared. I try not to show it to Sophia, or to Yoonchae, but I was so scared.” You said, tears welling up in your eyes.   

“Honey, you didn't do anything wrong. I know, it's scary, but it just shows me how much you care about my daughter, and I wanted to say thank you, to you and Sophia. Thank you for taking such good care of my Yoonchae. You'll be great mothers one day.”   

A solitary tear fell from your eyes. Maybe life really was preparing you and Sophia for the future. Damn, you couldn't wait for the future.   

“Now go and get some rest, and don't forget to text me.”   

“I'll tell Yoonchae to call you when she gets better.” You said, starting to say goodbye to Mrs. Jeong.   

Hanging up the phone, you leaned back against the wall, your head falling back against the wall as you let out a big sigh. It was 4:23 AM and you had never driven so fast in your entire life. You were tired, sleepy, but you were so relieved, Yoonchae was safe, and you would do it all over again if you had to.   

Sitting in one of the chairs in the hallway, you waited. The doctor had said that it was best for only one person to go in with Yoonchae, and Sophia offered so quickly that you couldn't deny it. Just as your eyes were about to close, you heard the door in front of you open, and then close with a satisfying click.   

“Her fever has gone down considerably, and the pain is gone.” Sophia said, taking a seat next to you on the left. “She finally managed to sleep, so I came to see how you were.”  

Giving your girlfriend a slight smile, you grabbed her right hand, where the ring you gave her - when she was still at the Dream Academy - rested.   

“I've called her parents, and also the Kats, everything will be fine.” you said, leaving a kiss on Sophia's hand, on top of where the ring rested.   

“I know. When you're with me, everything works out. You give me strength, Yn.” Sophia said, lightly dragging the chair closer to you and resting her head on your shoulder. “I always manage to stay calm because you're always there to calm me down.”   

Looking at your hands together, you thought about how much you loved Sophia, and that you wouldn't trade her for anything in the world. You hated things like that happening, but when you had Sophia by your side, everything seemed to soften, and that despair disappeared, you simply became a thousand times stronger when you were with Sophia. And while she thought you were her strength, only you knew that your strength actually came from her. It was inevitable, you completed each other.   

“Do you want to see her?” Sophia asked, lifting her head from your shoulder before she fell asleep right there.   

Shaking your head, you both got up, going to the room Yoonchae was in. Opening the door, you both tried not to make a sound, but failed miserably when the door creaked open and woke the younger girl.   

“Sorry, baby. That was just the two of us trying to be discreet.” Sophia said, making Yoonchae laugh slightly.   

“Hey, are you feeling better?” You asked, coming close and smoothing Yoonchae's mussed hair.   

“Yeah, I don't know what that was about, but I hope I never have to go through that again.” The younger girl said, relaxing into your caresses on her head.  

“Yeah, you gave us quite a scare. Do you remember anything?” You asked.  

“I was very confused, but I know I called you both mom.” Yoonchae said, her cheeks immediately turning a shade of pink. “Sorry about that.”   

“Yoonchip, you don't have to apologize.” Sophia says, reaching over and taking the maknae's hand in hers.   

“It's just... I love you both very much, and you're always looking out for me. I just think I projected a bit...” Yoonchae said, putting her free hand on her face to cover her red cheeks.  

“We love you very much, Yoonchae.” You said, taking the hand that covered her face. “You'll always be our daughter.” You said, in a playful tone, making Sophia agree.  

“Thanks guys.” 

“All right, how about I see if there's anything for us to eat for breakfast, huh?” You said, moving away a little to go towards the bedroom door.   

“I'll be back soon, Fam.” You said, making a peace sign - which made Yoonchae laugh and Sophia sneer at you - before walking out the door.   

And for a minute, thoughts of a family took over your mind, maybe you should start planning your wedding to Sophia, maybe look at engagement rings, it doesn't matter if it's too soon, you wanted everything to be perfect.   

Taken by these thoughts and the whole situation, you forgot one important detail...  

Who the hell is Evie? 

Hi guys, how are you? I hope you're all well.

Evie is closer than you think!!!

I missed writing for Fam out so much, I wrote this chapter in two hours (I think). But I hope you all like it as much as I did.

Actually, the plot of this chapter came from one of my anons, <3 anon, here's the request, if you're interested in reading it.

<3 anon is a very frequent anon here on the blog and even helped me create Evie, so much love to this anon!

I feel like I've said too much, so I'll end here. I'm excited to write the next chapters, but for now I'm going to put off some other requests.

xoxo, spider.

[lvnleah]

Would love a AWFC!Teen reader fic where she's Leah's younger sister who has always had to deal with being with Leah's sister, so many expectations on her and people being her friends because of Leah (Leah is still very much an amazing sister, loves her baby sister to bits!)

So when she's around ten ish, she makes the choice to not let anyone know Leah is her sister, goes to games but doesn't sit in the family section and sits with friends who she's never told about her family, maybe even uses her mum's maiden name rather than Williamson etc.

Leah is undoubtedly a bit upset about it because she doesn't want to make her little ones passion dampen just by being her (I hc that Leah would very much see R as her baby because that's what she called her when she was born or something) but her and their family all accept it and do what R wants and needs

Cut to R being brought into the senior time, smashing it in the big leagues and getting along well with all of the senior players who are looking at her like 'she seems familiar and I don't know why...' only to find out she's Leah's little sister when she's injured on the pitch or Leah gets injured and she gets all panicked and doesn't want to leave her side

Cue Beth, Katie, Kim etc. Who have all been there for years like 'Holy shit, you've grown up!!!!' Because they probably would've known her when she was younger since they've known Leah that long

Long winded but hopefully you'll like the idea 😂😂

the other williamson | leah williamson.

thank you for this request! :)

this is one of my favourite fics I’ve written!

You had always been proud to be Leah’s sister, how could you not be? She was England’s captain after all and an Arsenal star but sometimes being nine years younger than Leah came with its struggles. 

You were only seven when Leah first broke into the senior team and you were so proud of your sisters that for a while it’s all you talked about. Everyone at school knew about your cool big sister Leah and how she was playing for Arsenal. 

At that time, women’s football wasn’t massive so of course you got a bit of stick from a few boys in your class but it wasn’t anything you could handle. 

“Arsenal women?” One of them scoffed one day in the playground, “that isn’t a proper team!”

You looked the boy straight in the eye. “They are a proper team! My sister’s going to be the best player in the world, just you watch!”

The boy had rolled his eyes and laughed, but you didn’t care. You’d march off, determined to prove him wrong. Well, Leah would prove him wrong, and you’d be there cheering her on every step of the way.

For a while, being Leah’s sister was the coolest thing in the world. You loved going to games, sitting with your family, wearing a little Arsenal jersey with Williamson on the back. 

Leah always made time for you, even when her schedule got busy. She’d let you run around on the pitch after matches, ruffle your hair, and call you “my little bubba,” no matter how much you protested.

But as you got older, things changed.

By the time you were fifteen, Leah was a household name. Women’s football had grown massively, and she was basically the face of it after winning the euros. People started treating you differently, not because of who you were, but because of who your sister was.

At school, kids who’d never spoken to you before suddenly wanted to be your friend. “Can you get me an autograph from Leah?” they’d ask, or, “Do you think she’d come to my party?” Teachers started expecting more from you, too, as if being Leah Williamson’s sister meant you had to be perfect at everything.

At the academy, it was worse. You had been lucky enough to sign for the Arsenal academy when you were twelve but after the euros things changed. Every time you stepped onto the pitch, you could feel the weight of their eyes on you.

Coaches would compare you to Leah, even though you were nothing like her as a player. You didn’t even play in the same position, you were a striker not a defender. Teammates would make comments, sometimes kind, sometimes not.

“She’s only on the team because her sister’s Leah Williamson,” someone whispered once after you scored. “She’s not even good enough for the academy.”

It stung more than you cared to admit.

That was when you made your decision. You didn’t want to be known as Leah’s sister anymore. You wanted to be you. That night after training, you came home and broke down in tears to your mum. 

“Bubba, what’s wrong?” Amanda asked you as you stormed into the house, flinging your bag down onto the ground. 

You sat down with a huff as more tears started to escape, Jacob gave Amanda a look, “Been like this since I picked her, won’t say what’s wrong though.” Your brother sighed.

“I’m fine,” you muttered, wiping at your face angrily, though the tears kept falling.

Amanda crouched down in front of you, her voice soft. “You’re clearly not fine, Bubba. Come on, tell me what’s going on.”

You glanced up at her, hesitating. Part of you didn’t want to say it. You didn’t want to sound ungrateful for the opportunities you had or for Leah being your sister but the words tumbled out before you could stop them.

“I’m sick of it, Mum,” you said, your voice cracking. “Sick of being just Leah’s sister. Everyone at the academy thinks I’m only there because of Leah. They don’t even see me as my own person, just as ‘Leah’s little sister.’ I can’t do it anymore.”

Amanda’s face softened, and she sat beside you before pulling you into a hug. “Oh, Bubba. I’m so sorry you’re feeling this way.”

Jacob sat down next to you on the couch on the other side, frowning. “That’s not fair. You’re talented in your own right. Anyone who says otherwise is just jealous.”

“But I'm always being compared to Leah, J,” you said, though your voice wavered. “No one believes that I'm good enough. They just think I’m riding on Leah’s name.”

Amanda kissed your temple, “You are good enough. And I understand why this is so hard for you. But what do you want to do about it? How can we help?”

You hesitated, chewing your bottom lip. “I don’t want to be ‘Williamson’ anymore,” you finally said. “I want to use your maiden name, Mum. I want to be a Baker, not Leah’s sister.”

Amanda blinked, taken aback for a moment, but then she nodded slowly. “If that’s what you want, then we’ll support you. Right, Jacob?”

“Of course,” Jacob said, ruffling your hair. “You’re still you, no matter what name’s on the back of your shirt.”

A lump formed in your throat, but you nodded, feeling a small wave of relief.

“What about Leah?” Amanda asked gently. “Have you talked to her about this?”

You froze. You hadn’t thought about how Leah would feel. “I don’t know. I don’t want to hurt her feelings. She’s always been so proud of me, but…”

“But you need to do this for yourself,” Amanda finished for you. “You know she’ll understand.”

You nodded.

Later that evening, when Leah got home from training, you sat down and told her everything. You expected her to be upset or worse, disappointed but instead, she pulled you into a tight hug.

“Bubba,” she murmured, her voice thick with emotion. “I had no idea you were feeling like this. I’m so sorry, I’ve made things harder for you.”

“You didn’t,” you said quickly. “It’s not your fault, Le. I’m so proud of you, but I just need to figure out who I am without being ‘your sister.’”

Leah nodded, her hands on your shoulders. “I get it. And I’m proud of you for standing up for yourself. Whatever name you use, you’ll always be my little Bubba, okay?”

You laughed through your tears, hugging her tightly.

That night, you went to bed feeling lighter than you had in months. You were ready to step out of Leah’s shadow and into your own light.

Fast forward a few years, you were now eighteen and transitioning into the senior team. Leah was now twenty-seven and somehow everyone had managed to keep it a secret that you were Leah’s sister. 

Majority of the girls that you played with had either left the academy or completely stopped playing football. Your shirt name was now Baker and had been for two years now, your coaches were different too and everyone just thought that Leah was your family friend. 

“Excited for your first senior training, bubba?” Leah asked you one December morning as she drove you both to the training ground. 

You shrugged, a mixture of emotions, “Bit nervous…” you muttered, “Excited but nervous.”

Arsenal’s senior team had a new coach, Renee Slegers, and she had been to watch the u18s a few times. For some reason, she had seen something in you and wanted you to come train with the senior team and potentially play a few games. 

“You’ve got this, Bubba. You wouldn’t be here if you weren’t good enough. Renee knows what she’s doing, and so do you.” Leah told you. 

You nodded, trying to let her words sink in. You knew Leah believed in you, she always had, but the pressure of stepping into the senior team felt overwhelming. It wasn’t just about proving yourself, it was about proving you belonged and you were separate from Leah.

When you arrived at the training ground, Leah walked in beside you, her confidence making her look so at ease. Meanwhile, your stomach churned as the nerves threatened to take over. You adjusted your backpack, trying to focus on your breathing.

“Relax, Bakes,” Leah said with a smirk, using the nickname some of your academy teammates had given you after you changed your last name. “They’re going to love you.”

As you entered the changing room, you were immediately greeted by familiar faces, some you hadn’t seen in years. Beth grinned as soon as she spotted you.

“No way! Little Bubba? Is that you?” Beth’s voice was teasing, her eyes wide in mock disbelief.

You groaned internally. So much for keeping the “Bubba” nickname under wraps. “It’s Baker now,” you corrected with a sheepish smile, but your voice was warm. You couldn’t help but laugh a little as Beth pulled you into a quick hug.

“Leah didn’t tell us you’d grown up so much!” Beth teased. “Last time I saw you, you were, what, fifteen?”

“Beth,” Leah interrupted, shooting her a warning look, though she was clearly trying not to laugh.

More players filtered in, all of them reacting with surprise when they realized who you were. Some of them hadn’t seen you since you were a kid, tagging along to games and family events. For others, it was the first time they’d met you. 

“Wait, wait, wait,” Katie said, holding up her hands. “So you’re telling me Leah’s been hiding this one from us? You’re playing with us now?”

You felt your cheeks burn as all eyes turned to you, but Leah stepped in, her tone light and teasing. “She wanted to make it on her own. Didn’t want to ride my coattails.”

“Fair play,” Kim said with an approving nod. “Gotta respect that.”

Leah turned to you, her smile soft. “Alright, Bubba, I mean Baker, time to show them why you’re here.”

You gave her a small, grateful smile before heading out to the pitch. As you jogged onto the field with the team, the nervous energy in your chest began to settle. You reminded yourself why you were there. Not as Leah’s sister, but as you.

And as the session began, you could feel yourself falling into the rhythm of the game you loved, the sound of the ball connecting with your boot grounding you. The team was fast, skilled, and ruthless, but you held your own. A well-timed run, a sharp finish past the keeper and it wasn’t long before you felt like you belonged.

At the end of training, Renee pulled you aside, her expression calm but firm. “You did well today. Keep this up, and we’ll see about getting you some minutes in the next match.”

Your heart soared at her words, but you kept your face neutral, nodding. “Thank you, Coach.”

Leah was waiting for you by the car when you finally made it out of the locker room. She raised an eyebrow, clearly trying to gauge how you were feeling.

“Well?” she asked as you climbed in.

You smiled, the weight on your shoulders feeling just a little lighter. “I think I did okay.”

Leah grinned, her pride shining through. “I told you, Bubba. You’ve got this.”

The night of your debut arrived quicker than you expected. Arsenal was playing a league game at Meadow Park against Crystal Palace, and the squad list had you on the bench. You tried to focus during the pre-match warm-ups, but your nerves were all over the place. Leah, as always, noticed.

“Stop overthinking,” she whispered as the two of you jogged back to the dugout after the warm-up. “Just play your game. If you get on, don’t try to do too much. Be you.”

You nodded, though the butterflies in your stomach didn’t ease. The match started, and you watched intently from the bench, studying the pace of the game and trying to picture where you’d fit in.

By halftime, Arsenal was up 1–0, the goal coming from Leah. Renee made a couple of changes early in the second half, but your name wasn’t called. You were beginning to think your debut would have to wait until another day when, in the 70th minute Renee called you. 

“Baker, you’re on,” Renee said, her voice firm but encouraging. “Stay calm, yeah? Leah’s out there with you. We’re doing okay, 3-0, so just stay calm, yeah? Try your hardest.”

You nodded, barely able to believe this was actually happening. Leah was standing by the touchline, waiting for you, her hand resting casually on her hip. When you reached her, she nudged you with her elbow, a small smile tugging at her lips.

“Ready for this, Bubba?”

“Don’t call me that,” you hissed, but you couldn’t help the nervous laugh that escaped.

The referee blew the whistle, and you stepped onto the pitch, replacing Beth up top. Leah gave you a quick pat on the back as you ran to your position. “You’ve got this.”

The first few minutes were a blur. The pace of the game was faster than anything you’d experienced before, but you adjusted, remembering Leah’s advice: play your game.

Then, in the 80th minute, the ball came to you. Leah had intercepted a pass in and played a perfect through ball into your path. You took a touch, your heart pounding as you found yourself one-on-one with the keeper.

You steadied yourself, then slotted the ball into the bottom corner with your left foot. For a moment, everything went silent, and then the roar of the fans hit you all at once.

You’d scored on your debut.

Leah was the first to reach you, lifting you off your feet in a tight hug. “That’s my sister!” she shouted, her voice full of pride.

The rest of the team swarmed you, congratulating you with slaps on the back and ruffling your hair. The chant of your name began to ripple through the crowd, and for the first time in a long time, you felt like you belonged, not as Leah’s sister, but as you.

When the final whistle blew, Arsenal had secured a 5–0 victory. Leah pulled you into another hug as you both walked off the pitch.

“Told you you’d smash it,” she said, her grin wide.

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t stop smiling. “Thanks, Le.”

That night, as you sat with Leah in the kitchen at home, replaying the match in your head, she looked at you and said softly, “You’re going to have a great career, Bubba. I’m proud of you, you know that?”

For the first time, you didn’t mind the nickname. “Thanks, Le. Means a lot.”

[cyborgartalchemist2]

Need to point some queer rage at something, white cishet persecution kink it is.

I absolutely despise this kind of cishet nonsense. And here's why-

White cishets recognize that being different is an automatic point against the rest of society. They know that marginalized groups are disqualified by the oppressors for the most basic of human experiences like finding love.

But they stop at that.

Because instead of letting that information strike a nerve they see 'a thrilling experience' to write/read about. The forbidden romance. A star crossed love doomed to be denied by all around the lovers. But, instead of including some form of marginalization like... one of them having a different skin color, being transgender, or disabled and considered incapable( incorrect) of fulfilling their half of the relationship, one of the lovers is a different species(still white and nearly human, think twilight or acotar) or this kind of rubbish where the only disqualifier for their relationship is that doctor/patient is frowned upon and can have power imbalances... not sure if it goes against the hypocratic oath, but it does have the possibility for damaging reputations..

Why make up these ridiculous reasons for a romance to be forbidden instead of taking from the laundry list of actual reasons a couple might experience aggression and refusal of acceptance?

Because they want the drama, pain, and angst that comes with marginalized romances without losing their privilege. They want "I love you, even though I know I shouldn't." But they want it without having to dismantle their own prejudices or do any work to understand that the reasons that make some romances forbidden are wrong and harmful. They don't want to admit that society is full of bigotry and prejudice, they just want dramatic romances where against all odds, the lovers come together.

I know white women who write these are often disadvantaged by being ciswomen, but it doesn't erase the fact they make up arbitrary and downright ridiculous barriers for their white het romances. It's an insult more than anything. It's someone saying "I recognize that some love is denied by the systems of power in place, but instead of accepting that I can do something about it by discussibg it, I'm going to appropriate the energy and flavor that comes with forbidden romances but with completely normal and acceptable members of society who would never experience this kind of denial. Simply because I want to read something dramatic without feeling guilty or being confronted with my own privilege."

And don't get me started on those made up slurs... like... balleraggot is disgusting. Tell me you don't understand the creation and use of slurs without telling me. Honestly... where did 'gonna make slurs that are ripped off of real and truly harmful slurs' sound like an even remotely good idea?

[gamorahww]

𝐅𝐈𝐘𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐁𝐀 𝐅𝐄𝐁𝐑𝐔𝐀𝐑𝐘 ━ 𝑑𝑎𝑦 2. 𝑑𝑎𝑛𝑐𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑜𝑟 𝑐𝑎𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔

Today I'm holding space for the idea that in the context of the movie, dancing is a coping mechanism for Fiyero. While caring is a cure and a solution and an answer. I mean it is nothing new, but it needs to be said.

There will be a separate post on Dancing Through Life later today, but for now, we're starting from later. At history class, Fiyero voluntarily steps up to help the lion cub, and they make it all the way to the forest. Shortly after they are safe, and start talking, Elphaba says, "I know my life would be much easier if I didn't care, but—" and Fiyero cuts her off at exactly this point in her sentence. And I think that moment is crucial. Up until now, he’s never interrupted her before—but now he does and not because he’s frustrated with how much she talks, but because of what she’s saying. He doesn’t want to hear her talk about caring. That’s a pain point for him.

Because he knows it’s easier not to care. That’s the story he tells himself.

The lyrics in Dancing Through Life go: "Why think too hard when it's so soothing?" Soothing what? You don’t need to soothe something that doesn’t hurt. Soothing is only necessary when there’s an ache. To me this means he has cared before, and he has been hurt by caring before, and now he's coping with that by dancing through life. He is soothing his pain from secretly caring just too much, by dancing. Not because he doesn't care anymore about anything, but because he can't stop doing it, so he has to keep dancing. Dancing is loud, and visible. If he dances, people don't ask questions about his personality about what he thinks or how he feels. Maybe they haven't been doing it anyway, so he distracts them by doing his little dance, and as soon as they get too close, he pushes them away. But what he believes to be true for now is that caring = painful and dancing = a way to cope with that pain

But Elphaba just saw him care—deeply. She knows he’s capable of it. And she knows how unbearably sad it must be to choose to pretend otherwise. At the same time, she also understands how painful caring can be, she just highlighted is. In that moment, they find common ground.

But Fiyero’s façade—his carefree persona—is what he assumes people value in him most. So the second he realizes Elphaba doesn’t see him that way, he panics. He thinks that if she can see through him, it means she doesn’t want him there. No one has ever appreciated him for anything beyond the image he projects. So if that mask is gone… what’s left? Why would she still want him around, if he's not fun and happy and carefree? So he starts to leave.

And then she proves him wrong.

Not only does she say "she does (want his help)," but she physically holds onto him, keeping him there. The shock on his face (second gif from the bottom) says everything—he never expected someone to want him without the act. And later, when she touches his face so gently, you can see him struggling to process it. This is the most vulnerable he’s ever been, and it terrifies him. Not only that, but Elphaba sees a scar on his face, and sees that he has been hurt, without him noticing it. She reaches out and touches him gently, not really wanting anything, and he just can't bear it.

Her caring for him is not painful, it's soothing.

His Freudian slip a few beats later—"I better get to safety."—isn’t just about physical danger. This doesn’t feel safe. Being seen, being wanted for real, is the opposite of what he’s used to. Caring and being cared for are equally scary, but only the latter seems like a completely new experience for him. However, after feeling it, he finds something so real that he just yearns for it from now on. Yearns to be seen and touched and to be needed for something he did instinctively, without a thought, something he did because it felt right.

That’s why the later scene with Glinda is so important. When she holds his hand, the shot mirrors the moment with Elphaba—but with one key difference. Glinda is pulling him away, back into the world of pretense. But he can’t go back, not after this, and you can see him looking back at where he came from, back to the forest, back to Elphaba, back to being seen. For once, caring was not painful, and someone cared for him as well.

[turtle-paced]

Have you ever felt like Martin doesn't like Cersei? The way he writes about her made me question? I mean she is both evil and stupid and it seems like we are supposed to laugh at her.

Cersei is pretty evil, and while I don't believe she's stupid, it's hard not to laugh (incredulously or otherwise) at her many, many bad ideas over the course of the series. Especially in AFFC.

But it's also clear to me that GRRM has compassion for this villain he's created - and that he has right from the start.

Let's put this under a cut for domestic violence and sheer length.

Ned touched her cheek gently. "Has he done this before?" "Once or twice." She shied away from his hand. "Never on the face before. Jaime would have killed him, even if it meant his own life." Cersei looked at him defiantly. "My brother is worth a hundred of your friend." Eddard XII, AGoT

GRRM chooses to frame the pivotal confrontation between Ned and Cersei with the reality of the domestic violence Cersei has experienced. Whatever else happens in that scene, whatever else she's done that might or might not be justified, the author makes sure the reader knows, Ned knows, that Cersei has good reason to hate Robert.

When she hesitated, then sat, Tyrion knew she was lost, despite her loud declaration of, "I will not marry again!" "You will marry and you will breed. Every child you birth makes Stannis more a liar." Their father's eyes seemed to pin her to her chair. Tyrion III, ASoS

This is re-emphasised as Tyrion witnesses Tywin's abuse of Cersei. Even Tyrion, who also has good reason to hate Cersei, cannot help but see how their father completely ignores Cersei's desires, reduces her autonomy to rubble, and above all makes her feel small. This is quite deliberately in Tyrion's PoV to make that dissonance stronger. Cersei is awful, but Tyrion can take no satisfaction in Tywin mistreating her.

Similarly,

His sister sat in a puddle of wine, cradling her son's body. Her gown was torn and stained, her face white as chalk. A thin black dog crept up beside her, sniffing at Joffrey's corpse. "The boy is gone, Cersei," Lord Tywin said. He put his gloved hand on his daughter's shoulder as one of his guardsmen shooed away the dog. "Unhand him now. Let him go." She did not hear. It took two Kingsguard to pry loose her fingers, so the body of King Joffrey Baratheon could slide limp and lifeless to the floor. Tyrion VIII, ASoS

Cersei's grief over watching her son murdered in front of her is a key character moment for her. Is Joffrey a good person? No. Is Cersei's immediate response of demanding Tyrion's arrest a good and just idea? No. Is that grief still real? Absolutely.

It was more than Cersei could stand. I cannot let them see me cry, she thought, when she felt the tears welling in her eyes. She walked past Ser Meryn Trant and out into the back passage. Alone beneath a tallow candle, she allowed herself a shuddering sob, then another. A woman may weep, but not a queen. Cersei III, AFFC

That lasts. It's not healthy but it is genuine. The author isn't putting this in here so we laugh at her. The author is putting this here to help us remember throughout the parade of evil and stupid crap Cersei's about to do that Cersei is a human with human emotions.

And when all that crap has backfired on Cersei, the author makes sure we know that the punishment inflicted on her is not for her sins but instead for her biological sex. He shows her break from that treatment.

Words are wind, she thought, words cannot hurt me. I am beautiful, the most beautiful woman in all Westeros, Jaime says so, Jaime would never lie to me. Even Robert, Robert never loved me, but he saw that I was beautiful, he wanted me. She did not feel beautiful, though. She felt old, used, filthy, ugly. Cersei II, ADWD

The walk of shame is just misogyny, pure and simple, nothing to do with what Cersei's actually done wrong. It is deliberately not karma out to get Cersei. It is deliberately not comeuppance. It is a reminder that Cersei has a point all those times when she points out she's been treated differently because of her sex - even if it's not the whole of the reason people don't respect her.

Even if a reader doesn't think Cersei deserves mercy, even if a reader finds her political bumbling funny, there's a lot around her that shows us that the reader wants us to think carefully about what made Cersei both a horrible person and a horrible politician. She is most definitely not there just to be the butt of the author's joke. That's Victarion.

[neve-gallus-girl-detective]

Lucanis' whole character and journey is trying to answer the question "Can we ever really come home?" I think it's so interesting that saving Treviso is what gives you more content about his struggles with possession and ptsd. His home is saved and, sure, it's changed a little because time has passed, but Lucanis can't shake the feeling that the city isn't his home anymore. He wants so desperately to visit his old hang out and see his friends and go back to his life, but he is so fundamentally different that it's just impossible. A blighted Treviso is almost easier on him because he has something tangible to blame for the feeling, but when his city is almost exactly the same (minus the Antaam)? That means it's HIM that's too different.

Spite obviously factors into this, right? First, Lucanis doesn't go home alone. He has another person in his head. It's not just that, though. He's going through an ego death. He's fighting with the idea that there was always something fundamentally wrong with him. He was always one step away from being filled with spite.

He also has to face his upbringing when he goes home. His childhood and training and the factors that filled him with determination. Determination which twisted so easily into Spite. He's angry at what he went through in the Ossuary, but he's also angry at what he went through in Treviso. He was tortured and possessed and made into an abomination for a contract. Because of the life he was groomed for.

No one can ever really go home, at least in my opinion. We change and we grow and then we return to a place that was shaped around someone who doesn't exist anymore. It chafes and it confines. Lucanis has spent a whole year confined and then he returns to his home and realizes that his life has been another type of prison. But. There is no Lucanis without that life and without Treviso and without the Crows.

Except there is. At the Lighthouse. With Rook and the team. I think that's why he's so caring and soft when he's there. It's the first time he's had a chance to build his own home and be seen by people who don't necessarily see him as only a tool. He can decide who he is. He's still an abomination, though, so even that new hope is tainted. It's important that he gets the chance to come to terms with Spite and to make the promise that they'll move forward together and figure out how to be their own people.

I think that's it. Lucanis needs to figure out how to be his own person, and that's not always something you can do at home.

[sassydefendorflower]

I feel horrible to butt in, but I do in fact think there are some addendums to this post.

For one, Margaret Thatcher and other horrible powerful women are not examples of the matriarchy. Or what a potential matriarchy would be like.

Every extremely powerful women, who then used that power to abuse it, did so in a patriarchal structure.

I am not saying that to defend these women. Their choices are their own. Everyone has the same capacity for evil, be it man, woman, queer or not.

I just want to clarify that we legit do not know what a matriarchal power structure would look like. Because from an anthropological standpoint there has never been a large scale matriarchy in the history of humanity (as far as we can tell). There have been some smaller groups and cultures, who have structures we would maybe describe as matriarchal, but none of these cultures are comparable on the large scale of the patriarchy. The power structures in those small groups are often genuinely different, because in praxis what we do know of matriarchal societies is completely different from an imagined reversal of the patriarchy as we know it. But, again, we cannot actually make these comparisons, because the few matriarchal societies that exist are also often very rural, and anti-capitalist. They aren't some strange utopia, they are still humans and there are definitely hierarchies at play, but they are simply not comparable to the large scale of the modern patriarchy as it is inherently intertwined with capitalism, colonialism, racism, and classism.

Again, I am not saying this in any shape or form to relieve any women of guilt or the responsibilities for their actions. There is no such thing as a better sex (hell, we really need to reconsider gender as a whole, if you ask me). But.

The patriarchy is sooooo deeply ingrained in our culture - in most human cultures existing right now and throughout history - that we genuinely don't know what a matriarchy would look like.

Hell, in Cultural Anthropology, if you create a genealogy and it is a matri-linear society, do you know what that means? It means that inheritance moves from the BROTHER of the mother to the BROTHER of the daughter (we are talking the inheritance of goods here). We generally assume that there isn't a single group of people where mothers can pass there belongings directly to their daughters as the main line of genealogical inheritance (and if there are deviations from this they are statistically irrelevant). There is bi-linear inheritance, of course, in which the parents equally pass everything down to their children, but that is a relatively recent development, and still always something that happens within a patriarchal society.

An example of a powerful woman (be it the Chinese Empress Dowager Cixi or Margaret Thatcher or Angela Merkel or... you get the idea) will never be an example of what the matriarchy would be like. Because we're thinking of power structures within the confines of what we know: the patriarchy.

And, yes, people who argue for the simple role reversal of Women in Power and Men At The Bottom, are obviously wrong. But they've also obviously never engaged with the theory. Such steep power structures and rigid hierarchical step-ladders would obviously be bad. But any conceivable matriarchy wouldn't be that. Because from the few we have seen throughout history and even right now... we know you always have to answer the question: what do we do with the babies?

And that is a question not easily or logically answered by a simple role reversal.

(and I don't want to equate womanhood with the ability to give birth - truly not. But, statistically speaking, women are the people birthing the most children, and as such, any society in which women are "in charge" the way we observe power structures within the patriarchy, also has to answer the question of what these "women in charge" will do with the possibility of childbirth.)

I am not arguing for the goodness of women. I am arguing for the admittance that we just genuinely don't know what a matriarchy would be like.

(not that is should be our goal to find out)

The power structures of the patriarchy have been historically so all-encompassing for most of us, that we genuinely cannot divorce even the thought experiment of a matriarchy from it.

And this Not Knowing should be part of the conversation.

just so we're clear, replacing patriarchy with a matriarchy would be just as bad because it's the same exact thing. it's a power structure. it lends to systemic abuse.

equality doesn't mean "one gender is better than the other". equality means all genders are on the same playing field. no one gender is better, or worse, than the rest.

women are not inherently kind. women are not inherently charitable. women do not inherently have other peoples' best interests in mind. women are not inherently gentle and nurturing. women are not inherently smarter or dumber than any other gender. women are people, and that means that women are varied. chasing men of that pedestal and placing women there instead will create the exact same problems.

you can run around saying "women are just better than men" but you're doing the exact same thing that's being done to you right now, and that's not how you collapse the structure. you're just taking the same abusive power structure and painting it pink. enough. equality means we are all on the same level. equality does not mean one gender is superior to the rest. got it?

[shurisneakers]

hey I wanna say I absolutely love your writing ,English is not my first language but your writing cracks me up every time I absolutely adore your work! I wanted to throw in an idea for misery loves company because I really like the grumpy×grumpy ,what about them being loners/grumpy in a wedding,maybe it's Steve's or someone else on the team and they share a quiet dance on the balcony or something so yeah that's my idea ,again love your works ♥️♥️♥️♥️

a/n: hello! thank you for your kindness and for sending this in, I hope you like it <3

this is part of misery loves company but is just a stand alone fic. you don’t need to read anything before this

warnings: swearing, light angst

You slip out before the first toast.

The balcony is quiet, the air sharp against your skin. Below, the city hums, distant and indifferent. The music is still loud behind you, but out here, it’s muffled, softened by the wind.

You don’t belong inside.

The thought comes unbidden, bitter in your mouth.

So the balcony is cold, the air sharp against your skin. The city sprawls below, distant and untouchable. The music inside is muffled now, voices blending together, champagne bubbling in glasses. It’s still too loud.

You lean against the railing, fingers gripping the cold marble. You tell yourself it doesn’t matter. That you don’t care.

You exhale, press your palms against the railing, giving yourself five seconds before you call an Uber to get home.

Behind you, the door creaks open.

"You gonna jump?"

You hear the shuffle of his shoes against the floor as he leans beside you.

You close your eyes. "Go back inside. Make someone else's night worse."

"Yours already looks terrible, I've got a headstart," Bucky says, stepping up beside you.

You don’t turn, but you can feel him watching you, his presence taking up too much space in a very spacious balcony.

"You left early," he grunts out.

"So did you," you mutter.

"Yeah," he says. "People started looking at me like they wanted to ask me to dance."

You scoff. "You just think everyone’s in love with you."

"You're not proving me wrong," he points out.

"You're the most insufferable man I know."

"Honoured."

You finally glance at him. His tie is loose and he looks like he wants to be anywhere but here.

"Why are you out here?"

Your grip tightens on the railing. "Why are you?"

You know he sees it.

"You gonna actually answer," he says coolly, "or are we going to keep doing this?"

You exhale sharply, looking ahead. "DJ’s shit."

"It’s a live band."

"Then they should’ve hired a DJ."

His mouth twitches, but his eyes don't move off you.

"Try again."

"No," you say flatly.

He tilts his head at you, expression unreadable.

It makes you feel like your skin is on fire. Weddings are hard. Weddings with him around are even harder, for reasons you can't put words to.

A beat passed and he finally pushes himself away from the railing.

You're about to make some biting comment, when instead--

"Dance with me."

You blink. "Are you concussed?"

"Not recently."

You scoff, crossing your arms. "If this is some kind of sympathy thing-"

"Jesus," he mutters. "Yeah, I wanna pity dance with you, that's exactly what's happening here."

"Then what?"

He shrugs, "You think you're the only one who's angry?"

Your jaw tightens, teeth harsh against each other.

"We don’t have to talk," he mutters, like he's tired. Like things are hard for him too. "Just dance with me."

You stare at him, skeptical. He stares back, unbothered.

Instead, you grab his hand, passive-aggressive, like the universe owes you something for putting him in your life.

"Step on my feet, I break your kneecaps."

"For the record, I was a good fuckin' dancer."

"There is not one person left alive that can corroborate that," you scoff.

It's a joke, but you're acutely aware that maybe it's exactly why this is hard for him.

He pulls you in, a little stiff, like neither of you actually know how to do this anymore.

The music filters in from inside, something soft, but the two of you aren’t moving right to it.

He sways, slow and easy, like it makes all the sense in the world.

It pisses you off that somewhere, it starts feeling that was for you too.

"You're terrible at this," you mutter.

"So are you," he grumbles.

You scoff. "You said you were good at dancing."

"Yeah, well," he exhales, "people say a lot of shit."

You roll your eyes, but you don’t let go.

Neither does he.

The wind picks up. His palm presses a little firmer against your back. You don’t know what to do with that.

"You think you’re mad now," he mutters, "just wait ‘til I do this."

You frown, "What are you plann-"

You barely have time to react before his lips brush against your forehead.

It’s quick, warm, and a little unpracticed, like he thought about it too hard but did it anyway.

Your fingers tighten against his shirt. Not because you want to hold on. But because you don’t know what else to do with your hands when something shifts in your chest.

"Jes—"

"Shut up," he says, and it's the closest you've heard him come to pleading. "Five more minutes."

The words sit between you, heavy and unspoken.

You don’t know if he’s talking about the dance or something bigger.

Five more minutes.

Like you’re not running out of time. Like something in the world could belong to you, even if just for a little while.

You close your eyes. Breathe him in.

And five minutes stretch on longer than they usually do.

[cinnamontoastcrunch-15]

HI I'M BACK here's a oneshot that I got the idea for in the middle of uni.

Also apologies that I haven't posted at all in January I'll be back properly I promise.

"It's not too late to back out, if you want," Remus offers, turning to Sirius.

"As if. We're here now, Moons. Besides, I think freaking out your entire extended family is a perfect use of my time." He holds out his hand, offering it to Remus. Remus rolls his eyes, but Sirius doesn't miss the smile that comes as he reaches out to grab his hand.

Honestly? Part of Sirius does want to run away. A big part of him regrets to agreeing in the first place.

Still, he's doing this for Remus.

"Me? Why in Merlin's name would you say my name?" Sirius asked, a little dumbfounded.

"I panicked!" Remus said back. "She was so excited about the possibility of me bringing a guy to the wedding, and I only really know three guys!"

Well, he wasn't exactly wrong.

"You don't have to come," he said quickly. "I just figured it wouldn't hurt to ask? Four hours, free food, freak out my relatives who don't know I'm gay?"

"When you put it like that..."

Four hours in a liminal space where he can call Remus Lupin his boyfriend. Embarrassingly enough, Sirius has had dreams about this. Maybe not as a sudden stand in to make Hope happy, but he'll take whatever he can get, really.

It's going to suck when the night is over, though. His one scrap of self preservation was the only thing keeping him from agreeing. There's still a small part of him urging him to run away, protect himself by living with the careful boundaries he's drawn in his head to keep him from breaking his own heart. He knows Remus will never feel the same, and he also knows that he should be a lot more careful to keep himself sane, but he's here now. Surely he should just... embrace it?

The two of them walk through the muggle car park and down to the reception hall.

"Remus!" A girl's voice rings out, and Sirius feels Remus' grip tighten on his hand.

"Hi, Aunt Anna." Remus smiles graciously. Sirius watches the woman grind to a halt in front of Remus. It's as if there's some kind of magnetic field around him that keeps her from getting any closer.

"How is everything? How's the... special school?" She lowers her voice to say this, and Remus' smile strains a little. Sirius looks between them, a little confused. Is there something wrong with whatever stand in Remus is using for Hogwarts?

"Aunt Anna, I graduated in July. And it was a specialised school," he corrects politely. "More focused studies?" He says it like he's had to make this correction over and over. She smiles patronisingly, making Sirius' hair stand on end.

"Of course it was!" Her voice is fake, dismissive, frustrating Sirius to no end. Her eyes finally flick to Sirius, curiosity overtaking any sense of falseness on her face. "Who's this? Brought a friend along?"

"Oh, actually, he's not my friend, he's, er..." He glances a little helplessly at Sirius. Little does he know, the decision to go all in has solidified itself in his head. These stupid, patronising family members are going to respect Remus by the end of the night if it kills him.

"I'm his boyfriend. Sirius Black." He extends his hand with a smile that makes Anna blink, a little taken aback.

"Boyfriend? You're... oh!" She looks around, as if searching for someone else to have heard it. "Well, I guess it makes sense that you're... yeah. Um..." She smooths her skirt down, suddenly uncomfortable. "How did you two, er... meet?"

"We went to school together." Her eyes widen, and he nods. "Yeah, focused studies."

"Oh. Huh. I wouldn't have thought... What- what have you been up to then, Remus?"

"Not much, really."

"God, you're so modest!" Sirius says, quickly wrapping an arm around Remus' waist and pulling himself a little closer. He hears Anna clear her throat, fixing her expression as soon as he turns to face her. "He's gotten so many offers."

"Offers for what?"

"He hasn't told you?" Sirius asks innocently. She shakes her head, and he smiles at her. "He's going to be a doctor. Hospitals are fighting over him."

"A... doctor?" For a second, Sirius thinks he's accidentally fucked up the word, until Remus nods a little awkwardly.

"Yeah, there are a few places offering me spots. It's hardly fighting, though-"

"Haven't you gotten baskets from all five locations? I mean, you're getting offers from America!"

"Yeah, guess so." He shrugs, but Sirius is already happy enough with what he's done. Anna looks between them, a little surprised, before nodding once.

"Nice to see you, Remus." She turns to leave.

"It was lovely to meet you!" Sirius calls after her with a sweet smile.

"Sirius!" Remus turns to him, stunned.

"What?" He asks innocently. "I'm just showing you off a little!"

"She's going to be pissed." Remus bites his lower lip, worried. For a second, Sirius' mind malfunctions, having to tear his eyes away from Remus' lips and back to his eyes when he turns to face him. "She had to write Sam's personal statement for Cardiff Uni."

"Oh, then she can't say a bloody word! Special school, she can fucking bite me." It draws a chuckle out of Remus, much to Sirius' delight. "Right, should we find your mum?"

"Yeah. Yeah, let's go."

Much to Remus' dismay, they run into a fair few of his extended family on the way. Sirius does nothing but fawn over Remus, making sure to push his multitude of achievements. It's not exactly hard to do. If Remus was slightly less lovely all the time, he'd be able to do this. He shouldn't be his family's punching bag, and Sirius isn't about to let that continue. He's not even lying, he's just pointing out the things he notices every day. It's scarily easy. He manages to get two judgemental uncles to back off, as well as the boy who can't even write his own essay, clearly pushed over by his aunt and forced to flaunt a few flimsy achievements. Sirius feels a little bad for him, so he's not as obvious about pushing Remus' life to the forefront. It works all the same, getting Sam away before he could even start talking about the fact that Minnie wanted Remus to consider training to teach at Hogwarts.

By the time they reach Hope, Remus has turned bright red. It's a magnificent sight. Sirius wishes he could do this every day.

"Remus! Oh, and Sirius! Hi!" Hope is clearly a little tipsy, cheeks flushed as she beams at the two of them, pulling Remus into a hug, promptly followed by Sirius. "I'm so glad you could make it, Sirius."

"Wouldn't miss it," he answers back with a grin.

"Yeah, that's what I'm starting to get," Remus mumbles under his breath. Sirius hasn't missed the fact that he's standing a little taller than he was when he walked in, though. He's just too nice to push back at his family. "Mum, don't be surprised if Aunt Anna says I've grown into a rude young man as soon as she's got a drink down her."

"Why? What happened? Oh, she's always been a bit of a-"

"No, it's nothing. I just want you to be prepared." Remus waves her off, but Sirius has other plans.

"She was being shitty," Sirius answers with a shrug. Hope turns to him, and he elaborates. "She kept talking to Remus like he's a child! The moment I pointed out that he's actually pretty smart, in a pretty tame way, actually, she turned and left. I didn't think it was that bad."

Hope looks between the two of them, before bursting out laughing. Remus and Sirius exchange a slightly confused glance, as Hope tries to pull herself together.

"Oh, I'm so glad you-! I've tried my best, but she just- I don't think she cares what I say. I can't believe you managed... thank you, Sirius, that's absolutely brilliant!" Sirius beams at a stunned Remus, pleased. At least it wasn't just him who thinks that Remus' extended family are a bunch of self-centered wankers. "Honestly, Remus has talked non-stop about you, I'm so glad he finally found the courage to ask you!"

What?

Sirius' heart does a strange thing where it skips several beats all at once, making him feel a little dizzy.

"Non-stop?" He asks, trying to keep his voice casual.

"Yes, absolutely non-stop!"

"Mum," Remus says quickly, shooting her a glance. She seems completely undeterred, though.

"I told him it was worth taking the risk a long time ago. I mean, you're a lovely boy, and it's clear how much you care about him. It's just nice to know that it all paid off! I had a good feeling about you two-"

"Mum, I'm going to get a drink," Remus interjects suddenly. "I'll be back in a second." She looks like she's about to protest, but Remus is still going, voice slightly unsteady. "I'll tell you what Sirius said to everybody after. Come on, Sirius."

He grabs Sirius gently by the arm, pulling him in the direction of the bar before Sirius has a chance to say anything. Before they reach the bar, he veers off and shoves a door open. They turn a corner and get into a cramped room absolutely full of fold-able chairs. Remus shuts the door and lets go of Sirius' arm, scrubbing a hand over his face and leaning against the door. His hands are shaking, and he looks a little like he wants the ground to swallow him whole.

"...I'd have quite liked to hear more," Sirius says eventually, breaking the weird silence. Remus finally looks up at Sirius, a mix of confusion, frustration and panic evident.

"I feel like that was embarrassing enough," Remus answers simply, eyes flicking back to the floor.

"Is that why you asked me?" Sirius asks suddenly. He knows he should really say more, but he has countless questions, and he needs at least one of them answered. Remus nods once, playing with his fingers.

"Mum made the guess. She wouldn't have believed me if I'd said no."

"Because you've been talking about me 'non-stop,'" Sirius supplies, careful to use Hope's exact words. Remus nods quickly, face turning much redder than it had been before.

"Sorry," he says before Sirius can say anything else. Sirius frowns.

"For what?"

"Lying to you. I mean, I basically tricked you into this whole thing because I didn't want to disappoint my mum."

"You gave me an out multiple times," Sirius tries, but Remus isn't done.

"And for, er... what my mum said. I didn't realise that she'd... you can leave, if you want. I wouldn't be pissed. I mean, fuck, I wouldn't be pissed if you didn't want to speak to me for a while." Okay, now Sirius is much more confused. "I... I really hope this doesn't ruin our friendship, though. I know it's probably going to feel weird now, and I get that, but I- Merlin, I really don't want to lose you, Sirius."

"Remus," Sirius starts gently.

"I mean, we could just forget that she ever said that. I've been perfectly fine living like this until now, I'll be okay."

"Moony."

"Sorry. God, if I'd known that was going to happen I wouldn't have... I could have just... I don't know, fuck, I'm so sorry-"

"Remus!" Sirius finally manages to snap him out of his strange, apologetic tangent. "I just want to make sure that I haven't hideously misunderstood what your mum said. You like me?" Remus nods, and Sirius takes a step closer. "Romantically?" He nods again. "And you have for a while now?"

Remus barely gets a chance to nod before Sirius closes the gap between them, connecting their lips. He hears Remus gasp as he pulls away, locking eyes with him and watching him carefully. For a second, he watches as Remus' brain speeds up, eyes scanning over Sirius' face as he tries to process everything.

Eventually, he seems to throw out every thought in his brain, cupping Sirius' face in both of his hands and kissing him back. Time stops as Sirius is caught up in the feeling of Remus' lips on his, one hand moving from his face and into his hair, his own arms moving impulsively to wrap around Remus' waist. It's everything Sirius could have imagined and more. Part of him still thinks he's imagining things, that there's no way Remus is actually here kissing him. It's overwhelmingly perfect, making Sirius feel a little giddy with the joy rising in his chest-

"Oh my Lord!" A shrill voice that Sirius recognises as Anna interrupts them, forcing them apart. "I- I'm just- right, um... I- okay." She turns and leaves, absolutely dumbfounded, eyes wide and a little horrified. For a second they both look at the closed door, before turning to exchange a glance. The moment their eyes lock, Sirius starts laughing. It doesn't take much for Remus to join in, as Sirius drops his head on Remus' shoulder and Remus laughs along with him.

Fuck Remus' strange extended family.

Nothing can ruin this for them.

[animentality]

I know x reader fans have always existed, and I don't generally mind them.

however I feel like the way they've overtaken fandom analysis/ shipping culture is an indication of the general decline of fandom communities.

they are normies, guys. I'm sorry.

it's not a slur, it's just a fact.

normies infiltrated fandom spaces because of covid.

they come in and just want to thirst after a particular character... and that's like. fine. of course it's fine it's always happened.

but they don't seem to actually care about the character being in character. nor does it really require any analysis of that character's motivations or story, or their relationship with others.

I know not everything HAS to relate to canon. like duh, we are here to make our own canon.

but come the fuck on. I go into a tag and it has a character tagged being some dommy daddy when that character is nothing like that in canon... and there's this line between making a character act a certain way bc that's your fetish, and completely ignoring who that character is entirely to the point where you could just replace their name with anyone else in any other show, and it wouldn't make a difference?

like that's... normie shit. it's people who do not think deeply or passionately about that media, it's just them having this surface level grasp of the physical attractiveness of the character.

and again. I'm not saying these people are stupid or whatever, just that the overabundance of this watered down ass content is an indicator of how much fandom has changed.

fans are not the socially awkward introverted queer voyeurs anymore, who enjoy fantasies and daydreaming about being someone else because of this disconnect with the self, or this fear of others that leads you to seek human connection in fiction.

they're the people who do just fine with other people ... and I'm not gatekeeping fandom from people who aren't socially awkward or anything.

but they come here, and they do shit like say you can't like this ship bc it's morally wrong .. you're not allowed to thirst after an 18 year old that makes you a pedophile... I'm 15 and I'm allowed to lust for Gojo but you a 25 year old woman, aren't allowed to write itafushi fanfiction.

go back to taxes and your job!!!

like that drives me fucking insane. these people want to insist they're not normies but they then go around insisting that being over 20 means you need to Work and Be a Normal Adult... bitch.

adults make fandoms. not you fucking children. you don't know how to build communities, you barely know how to make friends.

attacking people who like the same thing you do? is that what you think community building is?

oh this poor generation. anyway.

they come here and are disgusted by weird fetishes and obsessions. and by people sharing sexual headcanons or ideas about sexuality that make them uncomfortable because they've never ever been counter culture, they've never felt the need to go against the status quo.

they're cis straight girls/women mostly, whose mothers basically fuel the ya spicy romance booktok industry.

they're just younger and think it's trendier to be "in a fandom" than a fucking book club.

they're modern day bodice ripper fans... which again

would be so fucking fine, if they weren't doing the youth version of karening the fuck out.

and flooding the fandom with both hyper criticism of how you conduct your business AND an aggressive market for just imagining yourself with a character.

like fandom was originally just hyper passionate freaks.

they discussed movies and TV shows like life and death. they were fucking nuts but in the way where they needed to seek one another out, to share in this joyous sensation of being a freak obsessed with something beyond the point of reason.

now?

now it's like ... oh.

Sally from Bio thinks your love of Gaara is super creepy when you're 19. like what, are you a pedophile? why are you imagining him getting married to Naruto? are you a fucking pedophile who gets off to teens making out? they need to check your hard drive!!

like ok Sally.

ok.

I just think x reader is such a strong indicator of what kind of fan you are.

and if a fandom is mostly x reader... then it can't be that popular. it can't be a proper community.

how can it be?

it's as watered down and generic and bland as a marvel movie. it's stripped down of anything unique. it is pruned of controversy and humanity.

you are literally stripping yourself down into a non character.

you're not truly projecting yourself into a character, because the you that you read about is nothing. a placeholder. you are a passive observing robot who exists only in the form of a faceless and personality less entity.

and I don't get it.

what's the point then?

isn't fiction about realizing something about yourself or others

if your only manner of engaging is stripping yourself of personality... is it engagement at all?

or is it just more mindless consumption?

just watch law and order, man.

watch the good doctor or some shit on lifetime.

there's shows with passionate fanbases who theory craft and endlessly obsess with relationships and world building, and then there's shows with x reader only content and you know exactly why now.

[ts-janus-rp-blog]

"I don't just like it, I love it." Remus kissed his stomach again, then he worked himself down to emiles legs. "But not as much as I love this." He kissed his clit. "This is just the whipped cream on top of a sweet and yummy sundae. And I can't get enough." He purred as he gazed up to emile with a smirk.

"Alright, you call him and I'll get the note and the dogs arranged. Hopefully he'll agree..." The man sighed, "Though I doubt he will..." He nods, "You're going to have to, or else he won't take you seriously. Yes! Awesome, I'll put one as my phone background. That'll surely keep me motivated enough. He definitely is very sexy."

"I bet he did! I bet his moans sounded very pretty too. Oh? I'll definitely be looking forward to that! I'd love to see a video of him moaning and wriggling around. I might have that on repeat in my office. Hm... I won't do that, if I were you. He may get the wrong impression if you do." He shrugged, "But again, you're the boss, you can do whatever you want. That's just my thoughts."

"Awesome. Hm... Actually, I would like to do a checkup sooner rather than later. Just to make sure he's completely healthy? And to make sure there's no tracker on him...though if there was Remy would've already found us by now... Hm, I don't know, I just would rather... Wait, what?" The man grimaced, "Boss, no offense, but I'm not stupid. I know not to put any kids in him, period. Why would I upset you like that for? I know the rules, I know what you want. I'm not stupid enough to go against your rules. I'm not asking for a death wish, after all."

The man smirked, "Maybe... But why does that matter?" But then when he turned down his idea, the man practically deflated before Virgil's very eyes. "Damn... That's not nearly as fun... Alright, alright, I suppose I could do the permanent bondage instead... How do you want me to contort him though? Alright, yeah, that can wait, it's just a plan for the future. I thought you would like that idea. And I'm sure Roman would be happy to be owned by you forever." He gave a small shrug, "Personally I would change him before he gives birth, just so I know he's mine. After all, he may just try to run away while he's pregnant. But...that's just me."

Patton knocked desperately at the strangers door, praying someone, anyone was home. His heart beat as fast and loud as the rain thundering against the sidewalk. He was sure he was being followed, they were going to catch him. They were going to drag him back. He wasn't sure if whoever lived here might be worse, but he was willing to risk it at this point. Anything to escape.

{@moralpuppylover2}

Janus didn't know who would be at the door. It was late, but his master won't surely be home at this time. He normally doesn't get home until the sun starts to come up.

So, as the dog hybrid walked up to the door and opened it, he wondered who it could be. And if he should open it at all... Who knows, he may get in trouble with his master for opening the door. But, his curiosity was getting the better of him-

He stopped when he saw the soaking wet cat standing at the doorway. He could tell that this cat needed help almost immediately. Well, if his poor state of clothes were anything to go by. His eyes flickered up and down the sidewalk before he grabbed pattons arm and pulled him inside.

"are you alright?" Janus nervously asked as he grabbed a towel from the mud room. "Well, that's a stupid question, of course you're not alright! Are you...running away from your owners?" As Janus walked, the collar around his neck would jingle loudly. And even though it was cold outside and even in the house, he only had a pair of boxers on. Because of that, Patton would be able to see the numerous large scars that covered his body...and the countless amounts of fresh bruises.

@moralpuppylover2

[inspireartnotwar]

Art. Can. Die.

This is my battle cry in the face of the silent extinguishing of an entire generation of artists by AI.

And you know what? We can't let that happen. It's not about fighting the future, it's about shaping it on our terms. If you think this is worth fighting for, please share this post. Let's make this debate go viral - because we need to take action NOW.

Remember that even in the darkest of times, creativity always finds a way.

To unleash our true potential, we need first to dive deep into our darkest fears.

So let's do this together:

By the end of 2025, most traditional artist jobs will be gone, replaced by a handful of AI-augmented art directors. Right now, around 5 out of 6 concept art jobs are being eliminated, and it's even more brutal for illustrators. This isn't speculation: it's happening right now, in real-time, across studios worldwide.

At this point, dogmatic thinking is our worst enemy. If we want to survive the AI tsunami of 2025, we need to prepare for a brutal cyberpunk reality that isn’t waiting for permission to arrive. This isn't sci-fi or catastrophism. This is a clear-eyed recognition of the exponential impact AI will have on society, hitting a hockey stick inflection point around April-May this year. By July, February will already feel like a decade ago. This also means that we have a narrow window to adapt, to evolve, and to build something new.

Let me make five predictions for the end of 2025 to nail this out:

Every major film company will have its first 100% AI-generated blockbuster in production or on screen.

Next-gen smartphones will run GPT-4o-level reasoning AI locally.

The first full AI game engine will generate infinite, custom-made worlds tailored to individual profiles and desires.

Unique art objects will reach industrial scale: entire production chains will mass-produce one-of-a-kind pieces. Uniqueness will be the new mass market.

Synthetic AI-generated data will exceed the sum total of all epistemic data (true knowledge) created by humanity throughout recorded history. We will be drowning in a sea of artificial ‘truths’.

For us artists, this means a stark choice: adapt to real-world craftsmanship or high-level creative thinking roles, because mid-level art skills will be replaced by cheaper, AI-augmented computing power.

But this is not the end. This is just another challenge to tackle.

Many will say we need legal solutions. They're not wrong, but they're missing the bigger picture: Do you think China, Pakistan, or North Korea will suddenly play nice with Western copyright laws? Will a "legal" dataset somehow magically protect our jobs? And most crucially, what happens when AI becomes just another tool of control?

Here's the thing - boycotting AI feels right, I get it. But it sounds like punks refusing to learn power chords because guitars are electrified by corporations. The systemic shift at stake doesn't care if we stay "pure", it will only change if we hack it.

Now, the empowerment part: artists have always been hackers of narratives.

This is what we do best: we break into the symbolic fabric of the world, weaving meaning from signs, emotions, and ideas. We've always taken tools never meant for art and turned them into instruments of creativity. We've always found ways to carve out meaning in systems designed to erase it.

This isn't just about survival. This is about hacking the future itself.

We, artists, are the pirates of the collective imaginary. It’s time to set sail and raise the black flag.

I don't come with a ready-made solution.

I don't come with a FOR or AGAINST. That would be like being against the wood axe because it can crush skulls.

I come with a battle cry: let’s flood the internet with debate, creative thinking, and unconventional wisdom. Let’s dream impossible futures. Let’s build stories of resilience - where humanity remains free from the technological guardianship of AI or synthetic superintelligence. Let’s hack the very fabric of what is deemed ‘possible’. And let’s do it together.

It is time to fight back.

Let us be the HumaNet.

Let’s show tech enthusiasts, engineers, and investors that we are not just assets, but the neurons of the most powerful superintelligence ever created: the artist community.

Let's outsmart the machine.

Stéphane Wootha Richard

P.S: This isn't just a message to read and forget. This is a memetic payload that needs to spread.

Send this to every artist in your network.

Copy/paste the full text anywhere you can.

Spread it across your social channels.

Start conversations in your creative communities.

No social platform? Great! That's exactly why this needs to spread through every possible channel, official and underground.

Let's flood the datasphere with our collective debate.

[freshxsturniolo]

but, why? CHRIS STUNRIOLO x FEM!READER - PART THREE.

Part 1 ∣ Part 2

a smile illuminates your face as you walk across the bar after using the bathroom, jasons eyes finding your instantly. gods, he was gorgeous. so gorgeous. you'd had such a lovely evening and enjoyed every second of his and his friends company, but there was a feeling inside of you that just needed to be home.

"did you manage to get an uber?" he asked as you reached him, his hand reaching for your instantly as you sit down. you plaster on a smile and lean forward to drop a small kiss to his lips. gods, those lips.

"yeah. it'll be here shortly." you say, pulling back away and squeezing his hand tightly before letting go, grabbing your drink and finishing the final sip. you had no idea how many drinks you'd had over the last few hours. jason and his friends had done a fine job of ensuring your purse and bank card stayed firmly away, and a drink was always in your hand.

"I feel so bad. are you sure you don't want me to come with you?" he leans forward, his hand finding your thigh. your leg tenses on contact, and a warmth washes over you as his hand slowly rubs against your bare skin. "we could go back to mine. or yours." he drops kiss behind your ear and you let out a shaky breath.

truthfully, you had fully expect the night to end exactly like that. you'd made every effort possible, you'd cleaned your apartment within an inch of its life incase he finally came back with you, but still, as much as his touch and his voice was incredibly tempting, tonight didn't feel the night.

"i promise, next time." you flush. and he chuckles into your ear before pulling away, giving your thigh a quick squeeze. "anyway," you start, looking around at his friends who are all around your table, laughing and joking with each other. "imagine what this lot would say if we ran off together."

jason chuckles, picking up his drink. "i dont care, as long as its you im running off with."

your phone pings at exactly the wrong time. your heart swells. you almost want to curse yourself for texting him. asking him to pick you up. theres a light blush against your cheeks and you're about to say something when one of his friends slaps his shoulder, leaning forward and passing another drink forward. you take your chance to look at your phone, seeing his name and letting out a smile.

"i didn't get you one, y/n." your head whips up. "unless you've decided to stay?"

you smile at jasons friend, before you grab your bag from the arm of your chair.

"my ride just got here, but thank you." you smile, starting to stand up. jason follows suit, and you give him a quick look before turning to his friends. you thank them all for a wonderful night, and to your surprise every single one of them stands up to give you a hug. it takes a while, all 5 boys pulling you in and wishing to see you soon, but when you finally spin back to jason, he's made his way to the bar and is leaning against it, staring at you deeply. you walk your way over, and your hands find his neck immediately.

"im busy for the next few days," he starts, and you nod. "but can i call you tomorrow? and the day after that? and then the day after that?"

you laugh, dropping your head down before looking back at him. "of course."

he smiles, leaning forward to brush his lips to yours and you accept gratefully. "let me walk you out." he says, and your heart rate speeds slightly, but you give him a smile.

"im fine, babe. go enjoy yourself."

he's hesitant, but he smiles before leaning forward to drop another kiss."let me know when you're home safe, please." he whispers into your lips.

"of course" you whisper back, and then you give him a final peck before squeezing his arm slightly, and walking away. a laugh escapes you as you hear his table of friends cheer at him as he walks back, and it takes everything in you not to turn around and stare at him one last time.

and yet, the minute you get outside and are greeted by your best friend, you heart leaps a little.

"your carriage awaits" he speaks, leant against the wall. your smile falters as you role your eyes.

"dont gloat" you say, and he laughs, pushing himself off the wall and grabbing you into a hug. your arms are around his back instantly as you give him a squeeze.

"you absolutely stink of vodka" he says into your ear, and you pull away, pushing him away. he laughs, grabbing his car keys from his pocket. "and mr lover boy hasn't even walked you out?"

you roll your eyes again, but grab his wrist for support. "his name is jason. and no. i told him to stay inside."

"such a gentleman" chris mutters, grabbing your arm as you walk towards the car.

"i'll go back inside if you can't be nice." you say, coming to a stand still.

your best friends had become more open over the last few days to your relationship, or not relationship, with jason. but chris still stuck on the fence. disengaging when conversation arose, changing the subject at every possible moment too without it coming across as rude. you had sighed just the night before as you lay in bed with nick, turning over to him and asking him WHY chris was so cold with any man you entered into your life. nick had been hesitant, and he had looked at you like he didn't know what to say for right or wrong, but he had pulled you into a hug and told you to have fun, regardless of what his brother thought.

chris stopped walking too, but a laugh escaped his lips as he slings his arm over your shoulder.

"im only joking, come on, lets get you food."

and so you did. the moment you got in the car and chris played your favourite playlist, you felt the most relaxed you had had all evening. you were drunk, so incredibly drunk, and for some reason chris' energy and presence had bought it out in you. but he took it in his stride. he laughed with you, he payed for your food without question and he sang along to all your favourite songs with you.

when he finally pulled up, at his and the boys house you noticed, you grabbed your phone out of your bag and pinged jason a message to let him know you were home safely, and thanked him again for a great night. when you put your phone back away, chris was staring at you intensely.

"what?" you laugh, grabbing your drink from the cup holder at the side of you. the full sugar pepsi after copious amounts of wine was much welcomed.

chris stared at you, but shrugged as he turned to get out the car. the moment long forgotten when your phone pinged again. you got out of the car, drink in hand and your heart jumped a little when you saw jasons message, telling you he would call you in the morning. placing your phone back in your bag, you make your way towards chris.

"i don't remember asking you to bring me back here" you joke, slipping your hand into his. he looked down at your hands before he interlocked them, grabbing your closer.

"i don't remember you telling me to take you home, either." he jokes. you laugh.

"if you want to spend more time with me, you only have to ask." you say back, hitting his shoulder with yours.

but chris says nothing as you walk into their house, chaos descending the minute nick hears your heels on the floor. you're pulled from chris' arms immedately, nick spinning you round and asking you for every single little detail possible about the night. you were a smirking giddy mess by the time you were done, explaining all the times jason had squeezed your thighs under the table, the kisses behind your ear. nick had listened and gasped in all the right places, but it was matt who bought you back to earth as he flung himself down on the couch after listening from the kitchen.

"so, why the fuck are you here and not at his house?"

you whip your head to him immediately, but it takes you a second. because you're not sure. your eyes scan to chris, and he's staring at you again, exactly how he did in the car. it isn't lost on you that you can't seem to tear your eyes away from him.

"does it fucking matter, matt?" nick chimes, and your trance is broken as you turn around to nick. you smile, internally thanking him for speaking out. you hear matt chuckle behind you, and then nick is on his feet.

"are you staying the night? fuck why am i even asking, you're absolutely staying the night. i have some of your make up wipes in my bathroom. matt, did you throw her stuff from last night into the laundry?"

you spin round to matt, and he stand immediately. "yeah, let me get them."

you smile. "can i borrow a hoodie?"

matt rolls his eyes, but gives you a grin afterwards. you laugh, sinking back into the couch, flinging your heels off onto the floor and pulling your knees into your chest. but when the room becomes silent, matt and nick in other rooms, chris' voice pops up.

"why did you?"

you look to him immediately. you screw your eyebrows. "huh?"

"why did you? come back here? why didn't you stay and end the night with him"

"i-"

he doesn't let you answer.

"what was your excuse for coming home?"

you gulp. "i said i was tired."

"and who did you tell him was giving you a ride?"

you pause. "i told him i called an uber."

he stares at you for what feels like an eternity, before he stands up.

"i cant do this."

"chris-"

but he's off down the stairs to his room before you can say something else.