#i know that there are some... people... on this site

[illiath-the-fae]

I'm not just sensitive, I'm fucking terrified.

I grew up DURING the cold war.

I know of SOME of the failsafes various countries had in place in case of "unexplained nuclear detonation".

I DO NOT trust that the incompetents in power have actually dismantled those failsafes properly, or in a manner that would mean they can't trigger if something is detected and the override (if still even known!) is not input to stop it.

Given the test treaty ban on live testing of nuclear weapons, there should be no unexplained detonations (except in North Korea, who didn't sign on to the ban), especially in countries we consider "highly developed".

So... thought experiment for you... how scared would you be about a potential "unexplained nuclear detonation" in... say... Europe... maybe Eastern Europe... say... Ukraine region... which is within the borders of the former USSR... while knowing that all major nuclear powers of the 1970s-1980s had thousands if not tens of thousands of devices looking for such things and tied into automatic launch systems for nuclear missiles... and knowing the people in charge of all countries involved (Heck, let's narrow it down to just Russia, USA, UK, France, Israel, China... there are others too!), and not knowing how many of those detection devices have been properly decommissioned... with their automatic launch systems (Systems that were tied together to launch).

What do you think happens if a nuclear weapon is detonated?

What do you think happens if one of those detection systems are still connected to a working and active automated launch facility?

Sure, a lot of stuff has been decommissioned, but how much do you trust that the decommissioning has happened at all such sites? And how much do you trust that it was done properly? How much do you trust the contractors that were doing the decommissioning?

lmfao

[missarchive]

american jesus ☆

spencer reid

summary; What starts as a seemingly innocent exchange quickly escalates into a game of trust, control, and desire. Spencer offers you more than just financial stability; he gives you attention, adoration, and a connection so intimate it leaves you breathless. From whispered words over the phone to moments of vulnerability, he knows exactly how to unravel you, guiding you to discover sides of yourself you never knew existed.

But with every dollar he deposits into your account and every command that leaves his lips, the boundaries between professionalism and pleasure blur. As you dive deeper into this intoxicating arrangement, you can’t help but wonder: are you just another outlet for his control, or has this brilliant man fallen for you just as deeply as you’ve begun to fall for him?

cw; +18 minors dni, masturbation (f), hints at masturbation (m), nudes, spencer calls reader "little girl" once, phone sex, sugar baby/daddy dynamics, inexperienced reader, pleasure dom spencer, fingering, dirty talk

an; this is the first part in my new series! as always, feedback is greatly appreciated. P.s. this is written with jesus reid in mind <3 xoxo

The idea had been absurd from the beginning—a drunken suggestion tossed out during a late-night study break, your friend’s cheeks flushed from the cheap wine you’d both been sipping.

“You should totally do it,” she’d said, her voice a mix of mischief and daring as she scrolled through her phone. “It’s not like you have to… do anything. Just talk. Flirt a little. Get someone to pay for your coffee—or your rent. What’s the harm?”

You’d laughed it off then, brushing aside her suggestion with a half-hearted joke about the kind of people who used those sites. But now, with your landlord’s polite but insistent emails piling up, along with the crushing weight of tuition bills and credit card debt, her words didn’t seem so laughable.

Desperation, you’d learned, had a way of reshaping your boundaries.

So, against every instinct that told you to slam the laptop shut and find another way, you clicked the link she’d jokingly sent that night.

The homepage was a garish blend of pink and gold, its polished glamour doing little to mask the transactional nature of it all. The tagline—"Where connections are made"—was a cruel euphemism for what this really was: a marketplace. A place where companionship, or at least the illusion of it, had a price tag.

Your fingers hovered over the keyboard for a long time before you finally typed in a username: laceandliterature.

The flood of messages came almost instantly.

@ hungandrich; Hey, beautiful 😘

@ olderseekingyounger; I can show you the world 🌍💎

@ MrNaughty4U; $5k a week to be my princess. No strings attached 💵

It was overwhelming, a cascade of propositions ranging from saccharine to predatory. Some were masked in politeness, others made no effort to conceal their intentions. Your stomach churned as you skimmed through them, the realisation sinking in that you were just another product on a shelf.

And then, just as you were about to close the browser and pretend this had never happened, a new message pinged.

It was short, direct—refreshingly so:

[new chat from: @ thefourthdoctor]

@ thefourthdoctor; Intriguing profile. Shall we talk?

No emojis, no extravagant promises. Just a simple, confident statement.

You hesitated, your heart racing as you clicked on the profile. The picture was blurry, as if taken in haste, but it revealed enough: dark, wavy hair that framed sharp, intelligent eyes behind a pair of glasses. His bio was sparse but intriguing, mentioning books, travel, and a keen interest in "meaningful conversations."

Something about it—about him—felt different. Not just the lack of overtly transactional language, but the quiet assurance in his words.

Your fingers hovered over the keyboard.

This was a bad idea. You knew it was a bad idea. But against your better judgment, you typed out a response.

@ laceandliterature; I suppose that depends on what you want to talk about.

The reply came almost immediately, as if he’d been waiting.

@ thefourthdoctor; Anything but the obvious.

The words were simple, but the subtext was unmistakable: he wasn’t here for what everyone else seemed to want. Or maybe he was just better at hiding it. No sleazy innuendos. No dick pics. No hollow promises of private jets or weekend getaways. Not even the tired clichés of "Hey, gorgeous" or “What’s your body count?”—just a question.

It was startling in its simplicity, almost disarming. And for that exact reason, it made you pause. The absence of the usual vulgarity felt almost like a trick, a trap designed to lure you into a false sense of security. You had learned the hard way to be cautious online. Yet, despite yourself, you couldn’t help but be intrigued.

Your fingers hovered over the keyboard as you glanced at his username again.

A click brought up his profile, your curiosity outweighing your skepticism. The photo was blurry, clearly taken without much thought to lighting or angles. It wasn’t like the polished, professional headshots some of the other profiles sported. Still, you could make out the basics: slightly messy, long curly dark hair, intelligent eyes framed by glasses, and an awkward sort of handsomeness that felt... real.

The bio was brief—almost frustratingly so.

"Bibliophile. Traveler. Interested in meaningful conversations and unconventional connections."

It lacked the arrogance and ostentation of the others you’d scrolled past, the ones who listed their wealth or their penchant for ��petite brunettes.” Instead, it was vague, yet oddly specific in its sincerity.

Your chest tightened, a strange mix of apprehension and curiosity tugging at you. Was this calculated, or was it simply honest? And why did it feel more dangerous than the others?

Still, you typed.

Your heartbeat quickened as you debated your next move. The smart thing would be to leave it at that, maybe even block him. After all, you weren’t here for emotional entanglements. This was supposed to be transactional—a simple trade: your time and charm for their money and attention. A means to an end.

Yet, against your better judgment, you stayed.

@ laceandliterature; The obvious is easier to avoid than you think, but meaningful conversations? That’s a tall order here.

There was a long pause, long enough that you started to wonder if you’d misjudged him. But then, the reply came:

@ thefourthdoctor; It depends on who you’re talking to.

You stared at the screen, the simplicity of his words sending a ripple of unease through you. There was no bravado, no performance. He was direct, confident, and—most dangerously—intriguing.

The seconds stretched into minutes as you debated what to say next. This was different from the other messages. He wasn’t dangling wealth in front of you like a shiny object or trying to buy your interest with empty promises.

And yet, the very absence of those things made you wonder what he wanted. Because he wanted something—everyone on this site did. That was the nature of it.

@ laceandliterature; Okay. What do you want to talk about?

His reply was immediate, as if he’d been waiting for you to ask:

@ thefourthdoctor; Tell me what brought you here.

The question hit like a dart, sharp and precise. Your stomach tightened as you read it again, the blunt honesty of it stripping away the thin veil you’d been hiding behind. No one had asked that before—not like this.

Most of the messages you’d received had operated on unspoken rules: you pretend this is normal, and they pretend they’re just being generous. But this man wasn’t pretending. He was asking you to be real in a space built on pretense.

And for reasons you couldn’t quite explain, you felt compelled to answer.

Your fingers trembled slightly over the keyboard. What could you even say? The truth? That you were drowning under the weight of your bills, your student loans, your own stubborn pride? That desperation had led you here, to a website where relationships had price tags and intimacy was commodified?

But what stopped you wasn’t the shame of your situation—it was him. The way he asked, as if the answer mattered. As if you mattered.

The tension in your chest twisted tighter as you typed.

@ laceandliterature; The same thing that brings everyone here, I suppose. Necessity.

You hit send before you could overthink it, before you could soften the edges of the truth. The reply came quickly.

@ thefourthdoctor; Necessity takes many forms. Which is yours?

You stared at the screen, his words pulling something loose inside you. This wasn’t idle curiosity. He was pushing you, peeling back the layers you hadn’t even realized you were wearing. And damn it, you wanted to push back.

@ laceandliterature; Does it matter?

You wrote, the edge in your tone slipping into the words.

The pause before his reply was longer this time, long enough to make you wonder if you’d misstepped. But then it came, and it was nothing you expected.

@ thefourthdoctor; It matters if you want it to.

The simplicity of his words sent a jolt through you, more potent than any overture of wealth or charm could have been. There was no condescension, no judgment. Just quiet, unnerving confidence.

You leaned back in your chair, running a hand through your hair. This wasn’t how this was supposed to go. These conversations were supposed to be easy—shallow exchanges where you could slip into a version of yourself that didn’t feel the weight of real life pressing down on her. But with him, there was no slipping into anything.

He wasn’t letting you.

@ laceandliterature; What about you?

You typed, throwing the question back at him, daring him to offer you the same vulnerability he was asking of you. 

@ laceandliterature; Why are you here?

His reply was immediate, almost as if he’d been expecting the question.

@ thefourthdoctor; Curiosity.

You frowned at the screen, the single word both frustrating and enticing. It was vague but deliberate, leaving just enough room for interpretation to keep you hooked.

@ laceandliterature; Curiosity about what? 

The next message sent a shiver through you:

@ thefourthdoctor; You.

Your breath caught. One word, and yet it felt like he’d reached through the screen, pulling you closer, tethering you to him in a way that was as exhilarating as it was terrifying.

You hesitated, the heat rising in your cheeks as you considered how to respond. This wasn’t the typical transactional banter you’d anticipated when you signed up. He wasn’t offering money or promises of luxury. He wasn’t trying to seduce you with extravagance. Instead, he was drawing you in with something far more dangerous: attention.

And the worst part? You wanted it.

@ laceandliterature; Careful. That kind of curiosity can be expensive.

This time, the pause felt deliberate, a beat of silence meant to let your words settle. When his reply came, it was sharp, confident, and devastatingly effective.

@ thefourthdoctor; I don’t mind paying for what I value. Isn’t that what this is about, anyway?

Your breath hitched, the implications of his words hitting you like a shockwave. This wasn’t flirtation—it was a proposition. But not the kind you’d grown to expect on this site. He wasn’t offering to buy your time or affection outright; he was telling you that he saw something in you worth pursuing.

And that made him infinitely more dangerous.

Your heart raced as you stared at the screen, torn between the instinct to pull back and the magnetic pull of his presence. This wasn’t just about money anymore. This was about control, power, the careful dance of who would give and who would take.

You sat frozen, his last message glowing on the screen like an unspoken dare.

"I don’t mind paying for what I value."

The words reverberated through you, sharp and calculated, leaving no room for misinterpretation. This wasn’t a line meant to charm or impress. It was a statement of intent—a declaration of control.

And it was working.

Your chest tightened as you typed, your fingers moving before your brain caught up.

@ laceandliterature; Value is subjective.

The moment you hit send, you regretted it. It felt flippant, like you were trying to undermine the weight of his words. But maybe that was exactly what you needed to do—to wrest back some semblance of control in this conversation that was starting to feel far too intimate.

The reply came after a pause that felt excruciatingly long:

@ thefourthdoctor; It is. But I’m a man who knows how to discern.

Your throat tightened, the confidence in his words striking a chord deep within you. He wasn’t just playing the game—he was setting the rules. And despite yourself, you found it maddeningly enticing.

@ laceandliterature; Discernment is rare here. 

You replied, leaning into the dynamic, testing the boundaries of this strange connection.

His next message came faster this time, as if he’d been waiting for you to lean in:

@ thefourthdoctor; So is honesty. Tell me, how rare are you?

Your breath hitched, your cheeks flushing as you stared at the question. It wasn’t what you expected—not here, not from someone you’d never met. And yet, it was the kind of question you couldn’t dismiss with a coy quip or vague answer.

@ laceandliterature; Enough to know my worth. 

You typed, surprising even yourself with the boldness of your response.

His reply came swiftly.

@ thefourthdoctor; Good. Then you’ll understand why I won’t insult you with empty offers. Tell me what you want.

Your pulse quickened. There it was—the shift you’d been waiting for, the moment the conversation turned from hypothetical to concrete. But this was different from the others. He wasn’t throwing numbers at you, wasn’t dangling luxury in front of you like bait. He was putting the power in your hands, asking you to decide the terms.

It was intoxicating. And terrifying.

Your fingers hovered over the keyboard, a thousand thoughts racing through your mind. What did you want? Money was the obvious answer—wasn’t it? That was why you were here in the first place. But now, with him, it didn’t feel so simple.

@ laceandliterature; That depends… What are you offering?

The pause before his response was agonizing, each second stretching longer than the last. And then it came:

@ thefourthdoctor; Time. Money. Attention. Answers, if you’re brave enough to ask the right questions.

Your breath caught, the weight of his words settling over you like a heavy cloak. He wasn’t offering material things, at least not yet. He was offering something far more valuable—and far more dangerous.

You swallowed hard, your palms damp as you considered your next move. He’d shifted the power dynamic yet again, pulling you deeper into a game you weren’t entirely sure you knew how to play.

@ laceandliterature; And what do you want in return?

The question leaving you more vulnerable than you cared to admit.

His response was immediate, his words a quiet, commanding echo in your mind:

@ thefourthdoctor; Exactly what you’re willing to give me.

The simplicity of his answer hit you harder than any declaration of wealth or desire could have. It wasn’t just about money or power or control—it was about you. Your choices, your limits, your willingness to engage in this careful, intoxicating dance.

And that realisation sent a shiver down your spine.

For a moment, you stared at the screen, your pulse thrumming in your ears. You could walk away now. Close the laptop, block his profile, and pretend this never happened. But the truth was, you didn’t want to.

Because for the first time since you’d joined this site, you felt seen. Not as an object, not as a commodity, but as a person.

His words clung to you, each syllable daring you to define what you were prepared to offer. He was turning the mirror back on you, forcing you to confront not just the situation but yourself.

Your fingers hovered over the keyboard, unsure of how to proceed. He wasn’t playing by the rules you expected, and that made him unpredictable. Dangerous. But it also made him irresistible.

@ laceandliterature; That’s a clever way of saying nothing. Ambiguity suits you.

The reply came quickly, almost as if he’d anticipated your deflection.

@ thefourthdoctor; Clarity can be earned, if you’re willing to play the game.

Your breath hitched. There it was again—that quiet, assured confidence that pulled you in despite every warning bell ringing in your head. He wasn’t offering platitudes or empty promises. He was offering a challenge, one that was as maddening as it was magnetic.

@ laceandliterature; And what game is that? 

The pause before his answer felt deliberate, a calculated silence that only heightened your anticipation. When his message finally appeared, it sent a shiver through you:

@ laceandliterature; The one we’re already playing. You just haven’t realised it yet.

Your pulse quickened, your palms damp as you stared at the screen. He was toying with you, but not in the way you’d experienced before. This wasn’t about cheap thrills or transparent power plays. This was about control—subtle, seductive, and entirely in his hands.

@ laceandliterature; I don’t recall agreeing to any rules. 

The sharpness of your words masking the unease curling in your chest.

His reply was swift, the confidence in his words cutting through the haze of your thoughts:

@ thefourthdoctor; You didn’t have to. You agreed the moment you responded.

The audacity of his statement left you momentarily breathless. He was right, of course, and that infuriated you. But it also thrilled you in a way you couldn’t quite explain.

@ laceandliterature; You’re awfully sure of yourself

You shot back, your fingers trembling as you hit send. The response came almost immediately.

@ thefourthdoctor; Confidence is the privilege of knowing what you want. Do you?

Your chest tightened, his words striking a nerve you hadn’t expected. What did you want? It was supposed to be simple—a means to an end, a way to solve your financial problems without complicating your life. But now, with him, it felt far from simple.

You hesitated, your mind racing. This wasn’t like the other conversations you’d had on this site. He wasn’t just offering money or gifts; he was offering an exchange of a different kind. One that blurred the lines between power and vulnerability, control and surrender.

@ laceandliterature; I think you already know the answer.

@ thefourthdoctor; Good. Then we’re getting somewhere.

You exhaled sharply, the tension in your chest both exhilarating and suffocating. He had you cornered, and he knew it. But the worst part? You didn’t want to leave.

@ laceandliterature; And where exactly is that? 

The question both a challenge and a plea. His response sent a chill down your spine.

@ thefourthdoctor; Where we figure out if you’re ready to trust me.

The weight of his words settled over you, heavy and inescapable. Trust. It was a loaded word, especially here, in a space where every interaction felt transactional. But with him, it didn’t feel like a demand—it felt like an invitation.

You swallowed hard, your fingers trembling as you typed your response:

@ laceandliterature; Trust is earned, Doctor. How do you plan on earning mine?

The pause before his reply was excruciating, every second stretching longer than the last. And then, finally, his message appeared. 

@ thefourthdoctor; Patience. Honesty. And just enough mystery to keep you coming back.

Your breath caught, the sheer confidence of his words leaving you momentarily speechless. He wasn’t just playing the game—he was rewriting the rules, pulling you deeper into his orbit with every word.

And despite the warning bells ringing in your head, you couldn’t stop yourself from wanting more.

@ laceandliterature; Then I suppose we’ll see how well you play. 

@ thefourthdoctor; We already are.

The message lingered on the screen, a challenge and a promise all at once. And as you stared at it, your heart racing and your mind spinning, one thing became clear:

Here’s the continuation, intensifying the emotional and psychological stakes, as well as the power dynamics:

You could feel it in the way your heart raced, in the way your mind struggled to pull together coherent thoughts. It was maddening. Dangerous. And yet, some part of you craved the thrill of it.

@ laceandliterature; What makes you so sure of that?

@ thefourthdoctor; Because you’re still here.

Your lips parted in a soft exhale, the truth in his words sending a shiver down your spine. He was right—you were still here, still engaged, still drawn to him in a way you couldn’t quite explain.

@ laceandliterature; Maybe I’m just curious.

His response was immediate, his confidence unshaken.

@ thefourthdoctor; Curiosity is the first step to surrender. And you’re closer than you think.

Your pulse quickened, his words striking a nerve you hadn’t realized was exposed. Surrender. The word hung there, heavy and intoxicating, pulling you deeper into his web.

@ laceandliterature; Surrender isn’t in my vocabulary. 

The sharpness of your reply more for your benefit than his.

@ thefourthdoctor; That’s because no one’s ever taught you how to do it properly.

The breath left your lungs in a quiet rush, your body betraying you with a thrill that raced down your spine. He wasn’t just confident—he was audacious, pushing boundaries you didn’t even know you had.

@ laceandliterature; And you think you’re the one to teach me?

@ thefourthdoctor; I know I am.

Your throat tightened, his certainty pulling you further into the undertow. There was no pretence with him, no fumbling for the right words to impress or seduce. He spoke with a quiet authority that was impossible to ignore—and even harder to resist.

@ laceandliterature; You’re awfully sure of yourself, Doctor.

You wrote, the name a deliberate choice, a way to remind yourself that he was still just a man on the other side of a screen.

But his next message stripped away any illusion of simplicity.

@ thefourthdoctor; Confidence is earned. You’ll see.

The promise in his words sent your mind reeling, the tension in your chest building with every passing second. He wasn’t offering wealth or gifts or superficial praise. He was offering himself—his attention, his intellect, his dominance—and it was unlike anything you’d ever encountered.

You leaned back in your chair, running a hand through your hair as you tried to steady your breathing. This wasn’t just a game anymore. It was a collision of wills, a power struggle where the stakes felt dangerously personal.

@ laceandliterature; And if I decide to stop playing? 

His reply came slower this time, each word calculated, precise.

@ thefourthdoctor; Then I’ll let you go. But we both know you won’t.

Your breath caught, the quiet confidence in his message leaving you stunned. He wasn’t trying to trap you—he was daring you to walk away. And that made him even more dangerous.

@ laceandliterature; You seem very sure of my choices

@ thefourthdoctor; I’m sure of your curiosity. And that’s enough.

You stared at the screen, your heart pounding, your mind spinning. He was right—you were curious. About him, about this, about where it could lead. And that curiosity was already pulling you deeper, binding you to him in a way that felt both thrilling and terrifying.

And as you sat there, your fingers hovering over the keyboard, one thought echoed in your mind:

You weren’t just playing his game anymore.

You were losing.

His words were a masterstroke, the kind of deliberate confidence that didn’t demand submission but invited it, coaxed it out of you with unsettling precision. He wasn’t forcing you into anything. He didn’t have to.

You were leaning in all on your own.

@ laceandliterature; Curiosity is dangerous. 

The words meant as both a warning and a defense. You weren’t sure if you were telling him or reminding yourself.

His reply came almost instantly, as if he’d anticipated your hesitation.

@ thefourthdoctor; It can be, in the wrong hands. But I think you know by now—I don’t intend to hurt you.

Your chest tightened, the unexpected gentleness in his response catching you off guard. It wasn’t a dismissal of your fears; it was an acknowledgment, a reassurance that felt disarmingly genuine.

@ laceandliterature; What do you intend to do, then? 

The pause before his reply was deliberate, stretching just long enough to heighten the tension without breaking it.

@ thefourthdoctor; Challenge you. Teach you. Protect you, if you let me.

Your breath hitched, his words striking a chord deep within you. The power in his offer wasn’t in its force but in its certainty, its quiet promise of control without cruelty, dominance without destruction.

@ laceandliterature; That’s a tall order.

@ thefourthdoctor; I’ve never been afraid of a challenge.

The simplicity of his answer left you momentarily stunned. He wasn’t boasting, wasn’t trying to impress you. He was stating a fact, one that resonated with an authority you couldn’t ignore.

@ laceandliterature; And what do you get out of this?

@ thefourthdoctor; The pleasure of watching you grow. The satisfaction of knowing you’re safe. And maybe, if you’re willing, a connection worth more than either of us expected.

Your chest tightened, his words threading through the cracks in your defences with startling ease. He wasn’t just offering a transaction; he was offering something far deeper, something that terrified and intrigued you in equal measure.

@ laceandliterature; You make it sound so simple.

@ thefourthdoctor; It can be, if you trust me. But I won’t rush you. This is your choice.

Your breath caught, the weight of his words settling over you. He wasn’t demanding anything from you, wasn’t using manipulation or coercion. He was giving you the space to decide, to choose whether to step into the unknown or retreat to the safety of your walls.

@ laceandliterature; What if I don’t know how to trust someone like you?

@ thefourthdoctor; Then I’ll show you how, baby. Step by step. But only if you’re willing.

The kindness in his words was a stark contrast to the intensity of his presence, a reminder that his control wasn’t about overpowering you—it was about guiding you, supporting you, meeting you where you were and pulling you gently forward.

@ laceandliterature; And if I’m not?

@ thefourthdoctor; Then I’ll let you go. But I don’t think you want me to.

The truth in his words hit you like a jolt, your heart racing as you stared at the screen. He was right—you didn’t want to let him go. You didn’t want to retreat into the safety of solitude, not when he was offering something so intoxicatingly rare.

@ laceandliterature; You’re very sure of yourself

@ thefourthdoctor; I’m sure of you. And I’m willing to wait until you are too.

The words lingered on the screen, a challenge and a reassurance all at once. He wasn’t just pulling you into his world—he was offering to walk beside you, to guide you through the uncharted territory of trust and surrender.

And as you stared at his message, your pulse thrumming in your ears, one thing became abundantly clear. You wanted to see where this could lead.

Your fingers trembled as you typed your reply.

@ laceandliterature; I don’t know where this is going.

His response came swiftly, his dominance tempered by kindness:

@ thefourthdoctor; Then let me be the one to show you. One step at a time.

When the evening settled and the quiet of your room enveloped you, you found yourself sitting on the edge of your bed, staring at your phone. His last message still lingered there:

"Then let me be the one to show you. One step at a time."

Trust. The word had seemed so monumental when he’d said it, and now it felt even heavier in the quiet intimacy of your room.

Your eyes wandered to the package on your desk, the one that had arrived just days ago. The lingerie you’d bought with the money he’d sent—not something you’d ever imagined doing, much less showing anyone. But his insistence had stayed with you.

"This is for you," he’d written. "Because you deserve to feel special."

You’d laughed at the time, unsure how to process the sincerity in his words. But now, with the soft lace spread out in front of you, you felt the weight of his kindness.

On impulse, you slipped it on, the delicate fabric hugging your body in a way that felt both indulgent and empowering. It wasn’t something you’d ever have bought for yourself, but now, wearing it, you understood the quiet confidence it offered.

You caught your reflection in the mirror, your cheeks flushing as you adjusted the straps. The blush-colored lace was intricate and feminine, the perfect balance of modesty and allure. You hesitated, biting your lip as your phone buzzed in your hand.

Finally, you snapped a photo—nothing overly revealing, just the curve of your body hinted at in the soft light, the lace framing your figure. It felt daring, intimate, and, most of all, you felt like his.

With a shaky breath, you typed a caption for the image. 

@ laceandliterature; Thank you. I thought you should see where your funds are going.

You hit send before you could second-guess yourself, your heart racing as the message left your screen.

@ thefourthdoctor; You’re so beautiful, my little angel.

Your breath caught at the simplicity of his words. There was no embellishment, no flourish—just a quiet, sincere acknowledgment that made your chest tighten.

Another message followed, slower this time, as if he’d chosen each word carefully.

@ thefourthdoctor; Thank you for trusting me with this. How does it make you feel?

His question sent a ripple of warmth through you. He wasn’t just admiring you; he cared about how you felt, ensuring that this moment wasn’t just for him.

@ laceandliterature; It feels… different. In a good way.

The dots danced on the screen before his next message appeared.

@ thefourthdoctor; Good. That’s exactly how it should feel. You deserve to feel confident and cared for.

You smiled despite yourself, the warmth of his words cutting through the lingering nerves. He had a way of making you feel seen, like every action, every choice you made mattered to him.

@ laceandliterature; I wasn’t sure about sending it, I’ve never done anything like that before.

You admitted, your honesty surprising even you.

@ thefourthdoctor; You don’t need to worry. You’re safe with me. Always.

The reassurance in his words settled something deep inside you. He wasn’t just saying it—he meant it, every word carrying the weight of his sincerity.

Before you could respond, your phone vibrated in your hand, his name lighting up the screen. You hadn't expected him to call so soon, but the smile that spread across your face at the sight of his name felt entirely natural.

Your throat pinched, the air suddenly feeling all too warm. Neither of you had ever initiated a call before, what would he sound like? Deciding to push your nerves to the side, you answer the call.

"I was thinking you might not pick up for a moment there," his voice was low and smooth, a hint of amusement dancing through his words. "I hope you know this isn’t just about the photo. It’s about you. What you need, what you want. If you’re ever unsure, tell me. I’ll always listen."

"I guess I just couldn’t help myself," you teased, a slight blush creeping up your cheeks at the memory of how vulnerable you'd felt.

"Yeah? Am I living up to the expectation?" he murmured, and you could hear the laughter in his voice. It wasn’t a mocking sort of amusement, just a quiet acknowledgment that you both knew where this conversation was heading. And that, he hoped, neither one of you would shy away from it.

You laughed, a softness you'd never known you were capable of settling into your chest. There had been something so unexpectedly freeing about the experience—about wearing it made you flush with warmth.

“You could say that…”

“What were you hoping for, when you sent me that photo?”

The thought sent an immediate ache through your body, the suggestion of his touch, of the things he might do to you, sending a wave of desire through you. Your mind raced with images of “him” above you, of his hands pinning your wrists to the bed as he thrust into you. The thought was enough to make you flush, the ache of need between your legs becoming almost unbearable.

"Nothing.” You couldn’t even pretend to feign nonchalance when his words had been so unflinchingly honest, when the promise of what lay ahead was so tantalisingly clear.

"I’ll make it easier for you, then. What are you thinking about right now?" he said bluntly, his words sending a rush of heat through your entire body. There was nothing ambiguous or hesitant about his command; he wanted this, and he expected you to do it. "Tell me what you want, angel. I can give you that."

You twist the fabric hem of the lingerie around your fingers nervously, chewing at the dry skin on the edge of your lips. “I- I don’t know how to do this.” 

He chuckles softly, voice still full of kindness. “Then you don’t have to do anything, let me do all the work, baby.”

You’re quiet for a moment, pondering your options. Before nodding to yourself, deciding you’d have to let go of your nerves for the time being if you wanted this to continue.

“Okay.” You whisper, almost inaudibly. He wouldn’t have been able to hear it if he’d not been paying such close attention.

You took a deep breath, feeling a surge of boldness. "I... I've always had this fantasy of being guided by a man... someone who knows what he wants and can show me new pleasures. I’ve never had that chance before… I was hoping maybe that could be you."

"Oh, angel, you have no idea how much I want to fulfil those desires," He purred. "I can be your guide, your teacher, and your lover all in one."

His words sent a jolt of electricity through your body, and you felt your core tighten with anticipation. "I... I think I'd like that very much."

"I want you to relax and get comfortable for me, can you do that, baby?. Dim the lights, light a candle, whatever you need to do."

Obeying his instructions, you lit a scented candle, filling the room with a soft, flickering glow and a hint of vanilla. You kicked off your shoes and slid under the covers, your heart pounding in your chest.

"That's it, sweet girl," He whispered. "Now, I want you to imagine my hands on your body, caressing your skin, exploring every inch of you. Feel my touch, soft and gentle, as I trace your collarbone, down to the swell of your breasts."

As you listened, you closed your eyes, visualising his strong, masculine hands on your body. You imagined his fingers brushing against your sensitive nipples, causing them to harden in response. Soft whimpers escaping your lips as you reach up to cup your breasts, mimicking his touch.

"That's right, angel," he encouraged. "Touch yourself for me. Feel how soft you are, how sweet.”

Your fingers obeyed, teasing your nipples, rolling and tugging at the sensitive peaks. You arched your back, pressing your breasts into your palms, and let out a soft cry of pleasure.

"Do you like that, little girl?" He asked, his voice thick with desire. "I wish you could see what you do to me."

"Yes, Doctor," you breathed, your voice heavy with arousal. “It feels so good."

"Now, slide your hand down your stomach, past your navel, and into the heat between your thighs," he instructed, his voice a seductive command. "Feel how wet you are for me, how your body responds to my words."

Your hand trembled as you obeyed, slipping beneath the covers and finding your way to your core. Your fingers brushed against your wet folds, and you gasped at the sensation.

"Oh, god, baby. You're so wet, aren’t you? I can hear it," He growled. "Rub your fingers along your pussy, coat them with your sweetness.”

You did as he said, moaning as your fingers slipped into your tight cunt. You were so wet, so ready, and the sensation of filling yourself sent waves of pleasure through your body. Taking the phone down your body, you hold it in front of your dripping pussy. Your microphone picking up on the sounds as your fingers slip through your folds.

"What a noisy fucking pussy, that's it, that's my girl," he encouraged. "Fuck yourself with your fingers, slowly at first, imagine it's my cock inside you, claiming your tight little cunt."

Your fingers moved in and out, your pace increasing as your pleasure spiralled. You imagined Spencer's thick, hard length filling you, his powerful body driving into yours.

"Yeah, fuck yourself for me," he urged. "Let go, angel girl. Come for me, and let me hear your sweet cries."

Your fingers worked frantically, your body on the brink of ecstasy. His words, his deep, commanding voice, pushed you over the edge. With a cry of release, you climaxed, your body trembling as waves of pleasure washed over you.

"Oh, my sweet girl," he whispered, whispering soft praise over the phone, his voice filled with satisfaction. "That sounded like a lot, hm? You still with me, beautiful?."

"I know that wasn’t easy for you, but it was beautiful to hear." His voice was soft, filled with sincerity. 

You lay there, breathless and sated, your body still humming with pleasure. "Y-yeah, m still here. Thank you."

"You did so good, such a well behaved girl. Check your phone for me, baby. Look what you did to me."

You froze for a moment, your mind struggling to process exactly what you were looking at. And then it registered—the smooth skin of his stomach, the slight curve of his hip. A moment later, you saw it; his cock, flushed pink tip, half-hard and resting against his stomach. A small pool of cum rested near his belly button.. You flushed all over at the thought, but you couldn’t tear your eyes away from the photo. There was something so undeniably intimate about the image; something that spoke to the fact that he'd been pleasuring himself while thinking of you.

With a final, breathless goodbye, you end the call. Your heart is still racing, your body tingling with the lingering aftershocks of pleasure. His voice still echoes in your ears, warm and commanding, and the weight of his presence seems to fill the room even though he's no longer on the line. You lean back against the soft cushions on your bed, eyes fluttering closed, letting the soft glow of the lamp wash over you.

You let out a slow exhale, your chest rising and falling in rhythm with the buzz still pulsing beneath your skin. There’s something thrilling, intoxicating about the way he’s able to draw you out, make you vulnerable and yet so sure of yourself all at once. But the moment feels almost too surreal, too indulgent, and you try to calm your racing thoughts when a ping breaks through the haze of your afterglow.

You glance down at your phone, blinking at the notification that has just popped up.

$500 has been deposited into your account.

-for my pretty girl

Your breath catches in your throat as your fingers instinctively swipe open the message. You freeze, your eyes scanning the details with a quickness that betrays your curiosity.

"Doctor Reid," it reads, alongside the substantial amount.

For a moment, time seems to stop, your gaze fixed on the screen as your pulse quickens once more. The money sits there, cool and impersonal, yet its presence is anything but. It’s a gesture—one that feels undeniably generous, but also loaded with unspoken meaning. This isn’t just a transaction. This is him, and everything that came with the promise of his control, his attention, his care.

You’ve known that he was willing to give, but this—this feels different. The amount is so much more than what you’d expected. What did he mean by it? What does he expect now?

You glance at the digits one more time, the weight of his name anchoring the moment. It feels strange to see it. So he was a doctor. 

A tight knot forms in your chest, mixing nerves with something else—something like desire, maybe even gratitude. You bite your lip, unsure how to feel. It was just a phone call, just a moment of shared vulnerability between you. Yet the fact that he’s followed through with this kind of gesture makes everything feel so much more real, so much more complicated.

With a heavy sigh, you set your phone down and run your fingers through your hair, your mind racing as you try to reconcile the thrill of the moment with the heavy responsibility that now feels like it’s creeping in.

At least now you had his name, Doctor Reid.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

[yencirilla]

saw a tweet about how we're looking too deep into chetney's actions and basically "he's an old man it's not that serious" and it's like...once again people are diminishing chetney's actions purely because he's old and a "joke" character. they did this for most of the campaign saying chetney was just a weird creep to fearne, ignoring all the lovely interactions because some people are obsessed with chetney just being Old. that's the only aspect of him some people see. "he knows he's gonna die soon, that's why he's doing this. it's not heroic." okay. but do you realize chetney going on what he considers a suicide mission, using himself as a shield (protecting imogen in 117, orym in 118, fearne and imogen in 118) because he thinks he's going to die soon is still...heroic? compelling? "it's not that deep" if any other character stepped in front of what is called a god eater, with a hand out, to stop them from touching fearne and imogen, i would see twelve paragraph essays on this site about what a hero they are. chetney loves his friends. he cares about them deeply. he is funny and he is old but that is not the basis of what he is. throughout the campaign he has shown different ways of caring for the team, different ways of helping them and some of you still don't see it at all and it's really sad because he's such a good character

[metanarrates]

Hello. Sorry if this a stupid question u can ignore if u want.

How can someone get better at media analysis? Besides obviously reading a lot.

Im asking this bc im in a point where im aware of my own lack of tools to analyze stories, but i don't know where to get them or how to get better in general. How did you learn to analyze media? There's any specific book, essay, author, etc that you recommend? Somewhere to start?

I'm asking you because you are genuinely the person who has the best takes on this site. Thank you for you work!

it sounds like a cop-out answer but it's always felt like a skill I acquired mostly thru reading a ton, and by paying a lot of attention in high school literature classes. because of that I can't promise that I'm necessarily equipped to be a good teacher or that i know good resources. HOWEVER! let me run some potential advice to you based on the shit i get a lot of mileage out of

first off, a lot of literary analysis is about pattern recognition! not just pattern recognition in-text, but out-of-text as well. how does this work relate to its genre? real-world history? does it have parallels between real-life situations? that kind of thing.

which is a big concept to just describe off the bat, so let me break it down further!

in literature, there is the concept of something called literary devices - they are some of the basic building blocks in how a story is delivered mechanically and via subtext. have you ever heard of a motif? that is a literary device. it's a pattern established in the text in order to further the storytelling! and here is a list of a ton of common literary devices - I'd recommend reading the article. it breaks down a lot of commonly used ones in prose and poetry and explains their usage.

personally, I don't find all the literary devices I've learned about in school to be the most useful to my analytical hobbies online. motifs, themes, and metaphors are useful and dissecting them can bring a lot to the table, but a lot of other devices are mostly like fun bonus trivia for me to notice when reading. however, memorizing those terms and trying to notice them in the things you read does have a distinct benefit - it encourages you to start noticing patterns, and to start thinking of the mechanical way a story is built. sure, thinking about how the prose is constructed might not help you understand the story much more, but it does make you start thinking about how things like prose contribute to the greater feeling of a piece, or how the formatting of a piece contributes to its overall narrative. you'll start developing this habit of picking out little things about a text, which is useful.

other forms of in-text pattern recognition can be about things like characterization! how does a character react to a certain situation? is it consistent with how they usually behave? what might that tell you about how they think? do they have tells that show when they're not being trustworthy? does their viewpoint always match what is happening on screen? what ideas do they have about how the world works? how are they influenced by other people in their lives? by social contexts that might exist? by situations that have affected them? (on that note, how do situations affect other situations?)

another one is just straight-up noticing themes in a work. is there a certain idea that keeps getting brought up? what is the work trying to say about that idea? if it's being brought up often, it's probably worth paying attention to!

that goes for any pattern, actually. if you notice something, it's worth thinking about why it might be there. try considering things like potential subtext, or what a technique might be trying to convey to a reader. even if you can't explain why every element of a text is there, you'll often gain something by trying to think about why something exists in a story.

^ sometimes the answer to that question is not always "because it's intentional" or even "because it was a good choice for the storytelling." authors frequently make choices that suck shit (I am a known complainer about choices that suck shit.) that's also worth thinking about. english classes won't encourage this line of thinking, because they're trying to get you to approach texts with intentional thought instead of writing them off. I appreciate that goal, genuinely, but I do think it hampers people's enthusiasm for analysis if they're not also being encouraged to analyze why they think something doesn't work well in a story. sometimes something sucks and it makes new students mad if they're not allowed to talk about it sucking! I'll get into that later - knowing how and why something doesn't work is also a valuable skill. being an informed and analytical hater will get you far in life.

so that's in-work literary analysis. id also recommend annotating your pages/pdfs or keeping a notebook if you want to close-read a work. keeping track of your thoughts while reading even if they're not "clever" or whatever encourages you to pay attention to a text and to draw patterns. it's very useful!

now, for out-of-work literary analysis! it's worth synthesizing something within its context. what social settings did this work come from? was it commenting on something in real life? is it responding to some aspects of history or current events? how does it relate to its genre? does it deviate from genre trends, commentate on them, or overall conform to its genre? where did the literary techniques it's using come from - does it have any big stylistic influences? is it referencing any other texts?

and if you don't know the answer to a bunch of these questions and want to know, RESEARCH IS YOUR FRIEND! look up historical events and social movements if you're reading a work from a place or time you're not familiar with. if you don't know much about a genre, look into what are considered common genre elements! see if you can find anyone talking about artistic movements, or read the texts that a work might be referencing! all of these things will give you a far more holistic view of a work.

as for your own personal reaction to & understanding of a work... so I've given the advice before that it's good to think about your own personal reactions to a story, and what you enjoy or dislike about it. while this is true that a lot of this is a baseline jumping-off point on how I personally conduct analysis, it's incomplete advice. you should not just be thinking about what you enjoy or dislike - you should also be thinking about why it works or doesn't work for you. if you've gotten a better grasp on story mechanics by practicing the types of pattern recognition i recognized above, you can start digging into how those storytelling techniques have affected you. did you enjoy this part of a story? what made it work well? what techniques built tension, or delivered well on conflict? what about if you thought it sucked? what aspects of storytelling might have failed?

sometimes the answer to this is highly subjective and personal. I'm slightly romance-averse because I am aromantic, so a lot of romance plots will simply bore me or actively annoy me. I try not to let that personal taste factor too much into serious critiques, though of course I will talk about why I find something boring and lament it wasn't done better lol. we're only human. just be aware of those personal taste quirks and factor them into analysis because it will help you be a bit more objective lol

but if it's not fully influenced by personal taste, you should get in the habit of building little theses about why a story affected you in a certain way. for example, "I felt bored and tired at this point in a plot, which may be due to poor pacing & handling of conflict." or "I felt excited at this point in the plot, because established tensions continued to get more complex and captured my interest." or "I liked this plot point because it iterated on an established theme in a way that brought interesting angles to how the story handled the theme." again, it's just a good way to think about how and why storytelling functions.

uh let's see what else. analysis is a collaborative activity! you can learn a lot from seeing how other people analyze! if you enjoy something a lot, try looking into scholarly articles on it, or youtube videos, or essays online! develop opinions also about how THOSE articles and essays etc conduct analysis, and why you might think those analyses are correct or incorrect! sometimes analyses suck shit and developing a counterargument will help you think harder about the topic in question! think about audience reactions and how those are created by the text! talk to friends! send asks to meta blogs you really like maybe sometimes

find angles of analysis that interest and excite you! if you're interested in feminist lenses on a work, or racial lenses, or philosophical lenses, look into how people conduct those sort of analyses on other works. (eg. search feminist analysis of hamlet, or something similar so you can learn how that style of analysis generally functions) and then try applying those lenses to the story you're looking at. a lot of analysts have a toolkit of lenses they tend to cycle through when approaching a new text - it might not be a bad idea to acquire a few favored lenses of your own.

also, most of my advice is literary advice, since you can broadly apply many skills you learn in literary analysis to any other form of storytelling, but if you're looking at another medium, like a game or cartoon, maybe look up some stuff about things like ludonarrative storytelling or visual storytelling! familiarizing yourself with the specific techniques common to a certain medium will only help you get better at understanding what you're seeing.

above all else, approach everything with intellectual curiosity and sincerity. even if you're sincerely curious about why something sucks, letting yourself gain information and potentially learning something new or being humbled in the process will help you grow. it's okay to not have all the answers, or to just be flat-out wrong sometimes. continuing to practice is a valuable intellectual pursuit even if it can mean feeling a tad stupid sometimes. don't be scared to ask questions. get comfortable sometimes with the fact that the answer you'll arrive at after a lot of thought and effort will be "I don't fully know." sometimes you don't know and that can be valuable in its own right!

thank you for the ask, and I hope you find this helpful!

[claypigeonpottery]

How did you get into selling your ceramics? I'm interested in selling my stuff but have no clue how to begin

I started out selling on Etsy. I think it was a decent place to start. unfortunately the site’s definitely gone downhill since 2020, when I started. posting on Etsy did make it obvious that I had to learn to take good pictures, and taking that step has been a huge help in the long run.

in 2021 my spouse @subpar-lemon-bar and I set up some tables with a few other potters, outside my parents’ house, and sold my work. the sale went ok, though most of the people who bought my work were friends or acquaintances lol, so it’s debatable whether it would have been a success without their support

after that, I sold my work at a few local craft shows, sales, and a maker’s faire. some of them went great, a couple of them went badly. but it was a good experience and I think it was helpful for me to talk to so many people at events about pottery and art.

the easiest way to start that is, unfortunately, to know someone who organizes or sells at craft shows or markets, but you can also find yearly local markets and apply to be a vendor when they’ve got an event coming up.

I was offered a couple tables by artists who knew me and after we’d done a couple shows, we got to know a lot of the other vendors. you also need a decent amount of pottery if you’re selling at a market, unlike selling online.

in-person sales are a ton of work, and by the end we were always exhausted. but overall, we made enough money and enjoyed enough of it that it was very worthwhile

once I started this tumblr, I found I didn’t really need to do in-person shows. I never have to worry that my work is too weird or too naked or too queer on tumblr, whereas craft shows in a fairly conservative area were… not suited to all my work lol. I got a lot of comments on any piece with nudity, and not all of them were kind.

I also had a few of my pieces for sale in a local coffee shop for about a year. nothing sold, it just wasn’t the right place. I tried selling through instagram stories too, a bunch of potters would sell their work at the same time and post each other’s work. I didn’t sell anything. it was early on and I was a little disheartened.

if things aren’t selling, that doesn’t mean your work won’t sell. it might be that you haven’t found the right place for it yet

good luck!

[maniculum]

Weird overflow from other social media sites, I think.

Back In My Day, it was understood that the point of a Like was to non-verbally express that you, well, liked what was being posted. Then at some point Facebook and other big social media sites started using them as a way to feed the algorithm. So you get people new to social media since then thinking of them as a way to increase engagement.

Then they come over to Tumblr, where one of the big draws is the chronological feed with no algorithm, so likes don’t affect engagement at all.

So you get both these newcomers AND people reacting to the newcomers loudly explaining, “i know you THINK likes increase engagement, but on Tumblr they DON’T, they do NOTHING.”

Which is all very weird for the rest of us, who are sitting here going, “i never thought that actually. i’m not out here trying to farm content or whatever it is you do on Twitter. i’m just Posting, and when someone likes my post, i’m pleased to see that they enjoyed it, not annoyed that they didn’t also reblog to Increase Engagement.”

Arguably it is the case that there is less reblogging in current Tumblr culture than there was ten years ago, and maybe that is the result of people bringing over their habits from more algorithmically-driven social media, but also, like… who cares? If you’re obsessively tracking your engagement and hoping to Make it Big on Social Media, that might be a concern to you, but i think you might also be on the wrong website. Go try and game the algorithm somewhere else if you like, but the very things that make Tumblr a pleasant place to spend your time & look at stuff you like are also going to make it not a great place to build your Social Media Empire.

Not that I’m saying, “if you don’t like it, leave” — by all means stay — but be aware of the difference between one site and another. Leave that influencer shit on TikTok and come here to relax.

remmeber that period of time when ppl on tumblr were rlly adamant that likes did nothing and we’re pointless and the only way to support their art was to reblog. like that was so fucking stupid, im not liking ur post to increase ur engagement, im liking ur post cuz i like the fucking post

[velvetvexations]

I’m. So baffled by that one dude saying that trans men being able to pretend to be women is a privilege, because in his tags he says that it’s a thing specific to transmascs. Does he mean pretending to be cis as a means of safety is a transmasc specific thing?? Because uh, I’m… pretty sure that’s something that can be done regardless of a trans person’s gender? There are transfems and nonbinary people who can also pretend to be cis [whatever their agab was], too?

Its also not a privilege. Having to hide what you are out of fear isn’t a fucking privilege lmao

strangely people understand that when it's about trans women

just saw a post on my dash saying "'infighting' is a dogwhistle which frames transfems as aggressors". i really hope the tide is turning like you said, bc this shit is getting exhausting and im still seeing it from random people i follow who otherwise gave no indication that they drank the koolaid.

they make me out to be the aggressor all the time!

Nazi imagery anon here

These are the pics I was referring to.

As you can see it’s posted on the verified border security account and you can see two different nazi symbols on him :(

yeah it looks like standards for what they allow soldiers to adorn themselves with are low and the person taking and posting the pics aren't paying good enough attention because that guy also straight up has a naked anime bitch on his knife sheath

as I said this is an individual thing and they need to start knocking their heads together like the Three Stooges and sending them into trenches first

You know who saying that th**fab is actually a storied term that trans fems have been using to identify transmisogonists is fucking insane like girl that's such obvious lie give us nothing

they aren't even trying

It’s crazy how almost every other day on this site I see a new post with like 50k notes talking about how absolutely NOBODY deserves to be harassed, sent death threats or be put on blast yet once again I’m seeing people trying to justify the harassment of another transmasc teenager. Honestly people should just start openly admitting Tumblr is becoming increasingly hostile towards trans masculine individuals, I don’t see clownery on this level on any other platform-

Tumblr...is really bad.

I think the reason why this whole headcanons discourse bothers me so much is that is really is just fuelled by petty spite. Like all these characters are cisgender in canon. We make headcanons because it’s FUN to expand on characters in ways that reflect our different life experiences in whatever form that may take. Intentionally going after transmascs, especially young transmascs, for doing this with characters like they like and accusing them of all these different things genuinely does just feel like bigotry. Who cares if a head canon may not make the most amount of sense? It’s a cisgender fictional character we’re playing around with! Why does it have to be some grand act of activism to say blorbo number 3 is transmasc? We have much bigger fish to fry here.

exactly it's such dedication to not letting anyone else have anything

So sick of people acting like trans men are the same as cis men under the patriarchy and moreso im really sick of the "you're privileged to not be surrounded by men". Like, for lack of better phrasing, saying that about a group of people that is generally perceived as "failure women" pre transition (and sometimes during and post) is a little tone deaf. All about acknowledging how women and people perceived as women are harmed by misogyny until the ones perceived are men. Gender essentialism is ugly and tasteless and nonsensical. Please feel free to delete this im just rambling without a point

rambling is okay anon <3

„wow ur so privileged to not fear men”

i fear the fucking everyone asshole, i just realized that isnt everyone elses fault so i should still treat them with respect !!!!!

that woman called me a "self-hating doll" and I hate the second part a lot more than the first

[seat-safety-switch]

Cheaters never prosper, is what they say everywhere except at the zoo. At the zoo, depending on who you ask, you may hear that cheetahs never prosper, and then an eyerolling amount of nerd chuckles will ensue until you walk out of the room and go get a foil-wrapped hot dog from the concession stand. The thing you need to know is this: nobody likes it when you take shortcuts.

In town, there are regular "fun runs" and marathons. During one of these events, people get up very early and then drive their cars to a race. Then they get out of the car – I repeat, they are no longer inside the perfectly good motor vehicle that brought them to the event – and run the race on foot. I wouldn't bother with such folly normally, but then the bastards offered a $50 gift card to the local Dodge dealership as one of the prizes, and I do really need to get some working brakes on my '78 Volare. They still sell those, right?

There was nothing left to do but start training. After watching some instructional videos on the public library's computers, I decided that the first step would be "try walking somewhere." I am very good at walking long distances, as my cars are always breaking down. I've walked home for two days before, from another province. So that's nailed.

All I would have to do in order to win this so-called marathon (not even related to the Checker Marathon, can you believe it?) is walk somewhere a little bit faster than usual. So I started pretending that my car was on fire, and I had to go get an extinguisher from home and bring it to the site of the conflagration, before the fire department could no longer hold off the cops from checking the license plate. This worked too. My coworkers were worried that I was beginning to get in shape.

On the day of the event, though, I slept in. Remember that part about "getting up very early?" I didn't. Or to be more accurate, my phone didn't, having not been charged in several days. What do you mean, "use an actual alarm clock?" That sounds like someone-who-has-electricity-in-their-home privilege. I'm hurt by your callous words, and I think you should meet me at the Dodge dealership and buy me fifty dollars worth of stuff. Yeah, no car. For some reason I haven't been able to stop running places.

[impala124]

Bad Buddy 12

My thoughts on Ep 1 | Ep 2 | Ep 3 | Ep 4 | Ep 5 | Ep 6 | Ep 7 | Ep 8 | Ep 9 | Ep 10 | Ep 11

Me, at the end of this episode:

Oh, we have a 4-year time skip!! Interesting.

Pat, where is the Nong Nao doll? I don't see it on your bed. I need answers right now.

I like the transition from Pat putting down his toothbrush to Pran picking up his own. Very clever.

Pran, quick question: WHERE ARE YOU? I see the view in the background, and that's one of Singapore's most iconic buildings, if I'm not wrong, which is definitely not in Thailand. So, boy, what's your ass doing in Singapore?

At least he's still wearing The Watch, so I have hope. Pran's a yearner through and through, so I expected nothing less from him.

We all agree that Max is hitting on Pran, right? Pran's not having any of it, though.

Poor Pat, he doesn't look too happy when Korn and Wai mention revisiting the old days.

Not the fucking elevator flashback 😭😭. Oh no, the curry Pran made for him after he confessed that he liked him. Man, this shit hurts!!

I, for one, am not at all surprised that Pat joined his father's business after graduation. I could've told you that on the day we first met him.

Sidenote, but why are these 22/23-year-olds lamenting about getting old?

Guys, Pa graduated from university and is making a movie!! My baby's all grown up now!! *wipes tears*

Ok, Wai and Korn each have girlfriends. How about instead of saving for individual dowries, you both just ditch the girls and marry each other? Just food for thought.

But why aren't they bringing up Pat's love life? Is it still a touchy topic? I mean, it's been 4 years, and we don't know what reason they gave their friends for the breakup, though, so we shall see.

What do you mean someone else moved into Pran's room? It should've been preserved as a heritage site. Contacting the people at UNESCO ASAP.

Ink and Pa are on my screen together. My boys might be miserable right now, but at least my girls are thriving.

A high school reunion, you say? If I'm not wrong, Pat, Pran, and Ink went to the same high school. Are they going to MEET at the reunion????!

Wow, Ink misses her high school classmates. Definitely can't relate to that sentiment, bestie.

Pat, sir, is that a smile on your face at the possibility of running into Pran at the reunion?

Not Pat looking solemnly at the memory wall.😭😭

THIS IS NOT A DRILL. Pran is here at the reunion!!!

Okay, so just looking longingly at each other is all I'm going to get for now.

"But some things can never change." Pat, bestie, change is the only constant in life. Fuck everything else and go get your man!!

Are you really playing a game at your reunion if the prize up for grabs isn't something like an accommodation voucher for a night at a mid-budget hotel??

Not the trip down memory lane😭. Y'all are in the same room; talk to each other and put yourselves (& me) out of this misery.

A live performance, you say? And PRAN IS SINGING. Now, don't tell me it's the song he wrote to soft launch his feelings to Pat in high school.

Yes, he is. Pat, are you listening? I know you're hearing it, but are you LISTENING to it?

EXCUSE ME! What was that sweet smile you guys just exchanged? I need an explanation!! NOW!!!

A group photo with them being pushed towards each other, which could be a metaphor for the string of fate always bringing them back together. Love to see it.

Pat, let me introduce you to something called a cab. It's really effective in taking your friend's drunk ass home, especially when your ex is giving you THE LOOK!!

Okay, Pat's on the phone with Pa (probably?) and is complaining about being hungry. You know what you should do, Pat? Go to your favorite noodle shop and wait for your ex to show up so that you can talk things through.

WHAT DO YOU MEAN IT'S PRAN ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THE DOOR AND ON THE PHONE??!!! My brain is malfunctioning right now.

"You said you'd sleep at your house." What in the hell is happening right now?

Crisis averted, the Nong Nao doll makes an appearance on the bed.

Okay, Pran, I see you wearing your 'happy hour' shirt while complaining to your boyfriend (?) about Singapore's air pollution.

One thing about them: they are going to use the fucking sponsored makeup remover on the other. It's quite endearing, actually.

BB Product placement stays superior till the end.

I need an explanation, stat!! Are you still mad I didn't pick you up at the airport? What is that boyfriend-ass statement, Pat?

Pran just referred to Pat as his boyfriend. "We've been together for too long."

WHAT DO YOU MEAN THEY NEVER BROKE UP IN THE FIRST PLACE??!!! I need a minute to process this.

My reaction till now, everyone, is the fucking Kuleshov effect in action, with me thinking that both of them are sad because of their 4-year-long separation, when in reality, they are just boyfriends missing each other.

Aww, a memory wall in their home.

Finally, THE GUITAR PICK that Pat made for Pran all those years ago makes an appearance!

So, according to the photos on THE WALL, Pat actually visited Pran in Singapore.

I do hope we get a home tour at some point; I'm really interested in seeing how Pran's OCD self blended his life with Pat's messy ass.

Unknowingly, from two people who couldn't be friends, we became two people who were more than friends.

So, they lied to everyone by saying that they broke up and began Secret relationship 2.0

Not them holding their fucking pinkies together when they pass by in the hallway ASFDGHF—

Time and space are just a construct when it comes to me and my blorbos because remember what I said when they were dating in secrecy the first time? I told them that they should have at least one person they are both familiar with to be in the know about their relationship to maintain a successful secret relationship. And Pran IRREFUTABLY heard me because Wai, Korn, Pa, and Ink knew about them this time around. I bet Einstein didn't foresee this coming.

Aww, they even visited Uncle Tong and Junior after they graduated.

I love that the parents aren't still getting along, because in such cases where the rivalry dates back decades, it feels abnormal to not continue doing so. It's almost like sunk cost fallacy but make it about rivalry.

However, I do love the little detail of Ming having to back off during their car face-off because Ming was the one who stabbed Dissaya in the back, figuratively speaking, all those years ago.

Not Pran rubbing the shirt all over his body to ensure that his scent lasts for a while💀 My boy is an actual menace.

Pat, sir, what are you thinking sending thirst pics to your boyfriend AT WORK?

They even held their pinkies together in their high school reunion photo.

Oh, I'm a happy camper because all my ships are sailing smoothly. The irony of Wai and Korn running the bar (where they used to fight with each other on a regular basis) together is just 😂 😂

Wai and Korn are soft launching their relationship, and no one can tell me otherwise. See, Pat is also a KornWai truther.

Pa, sweetheart, Ink was pining for you since she was in high school. I don't think you need to worry about her straying.

Keep up with shoving your couple photos down everyone's throats, though, just because y'all are hella cute together.

Korn does look like a middle-aged Asian uncle when he is complaining about the rival faculties breaking tables. Oh, how the tables have turned.

Yes, Wai, it's your penance for all the mess you guys used to cause all those years ago.

"Guys, I don't mind if you want to fight, but you must get a lover out of the fight, just like me." STAHP IT

Pran went from ordering three wontons to four—that's how you know he's in a long-term relationship, accommodating your partner without any prodding from their side.

Pran's "I brought your dad a bottle of liquor" is a solid strategy. There is nothing Asian dads love more than receiving imported liquor, even if they don't drink. A sure way to win some brownie points.

Kissing in front of the trashcans!!!! Oh, how far they've come.

Ming once again being the most Asian dad to ever exist by just randomly flipping through the newspaper just to appear busy.

As much as I love to hate on his quintessential Asian dad quirks, he is the most relatable of bl dads for me. Is he perfect? No, but I don't think anyone can say that he doesn't love his son.

Ink is accepted by Pa's parents, which doesn't surprise me one bit because she's perfect. PERIOD.

The dinner scene at Pat's house is a callback to the dinner scene in the initial episodes, when the dad was telling Pat to not let the neighboring boy win at any cost. Oh, how the tables have turned! Now, Pat is trying to curry favor with his dad for the said neighboring boy.

MING TOOK A SIP. Told ya, Asian dads just can't resist imported liquor.

The question of Pran's guitar. Did Pat keep it with him this time around too??!!

Ming crossed the LINE to deliver the mail, and Dissaya saw it.

Awww, his mom put it on his bed, which goes in line with my theory about parallels between Dissaya accepting Pran playing the guitar and him loving Pat. So, I'll be taking this as silent acceptance from her regarding their relationship.

I think both of them are ready to bury the hatchet, TO AN EXTENT, for the sake of their kids happiness.

Going off on a tangent for a bit, but bear with me. Let me take a moment to thank @respectthepetty for training me into thinking of love whenever I see the color pink because, what was the paint color the fathers used to draw the boundary between their houses all those years ago? Yes, it was fucking pink. It means that the answer was love all along. They were MEANT to fall in love to bridge the rift between their families. Talk about 'born to be together,' which was the exact sentiment Pran wanted to convey through The Song in high school.

Now, Pat coming into Pran's room through the window is a clear callback to the time Pat did the same to return the watch after Pran saved Pa. However, then he did it to tell Pran to not act friendly towards him in front of others, and now it's to spend some time with him without hiding from anyone, even their parents.

"If not you, I won't allow anyone else to use it. Pran, when I catch you—

Not Pran, my resident menace, trying to wake up the green-eyed monster by mentioning that Wai may have used it before💀😂

Pran's dad providing the meta commentary with his "This show is just so good." comment.

Ah, forehead kisses, my beloved!!!

Man, the flashbacks to when they were kids overlapping with them right now are just the cutest.

Everyone gather around because I just had a very big-brained thought. Remember, in Ep 8, on the rooftop, Pat wanted to share their relationship with the entire world while Pran asked what's wrong with just wanting to keep it for themselves. What if, whatever happened with their relationship after that, was just exploring both their paths? They clearly tried Pat's way first because Pran cared about him, despite his worry, and it resulted in the Ep 11 ending. After that, they took Pran's way and we all saw how it panned out for them. It might've taken them four years, but their parents are kinda onboard with their relationship.

Now that we're on this subject, let me try to provide some context to Wai pulling down the curtain on their relationship. Not defending his actions, but me thinks it was very intentional that Wai heard Pran say that although he's worried about others finding out about their (Pat & Pran's) relationship, he's willing to take the risk because he cares about Pat more. Wai's vindictive ass heard that and went through his montage of Pran lying to me about his relationship with Pat moments in his head and decided to put Pran's words about caring about Pat more to the test.

We get a post-credit scene? Truly the gift that keeps on giving.

Of course it had to be on a rooftop! Wait a second. Pat's birthday is on 23rd April, and the first time Pat slept over in Pran's room is on 24th April. The psychological implications of it all (for me) can't be overstated!!

Pran, my menace-in-residence, was really showing his horny ass by saying, 'The winner can do anything to the loser.' Never change, bestie!!

Well, I got the house tour I asked for earlier. Fucking Architectural Digest could never.

They shut the door in my face, and I said thank you!!

Honestly, I don't think I've even processed the finale yet. It was very pleasing to my lizard brain, that's for sure. I need to sit with it for a few days, and I'll probably write something about my whole experience liveblogging this BB watch and my thoughts on some of the CHOICES made in the whole series. A sneak peek of few things that are marinating in my head are—

Pat associating Pran with home because he feels lost (I was only half-joking when I compared him to a lost puppy following Pran around).

The air of sadness around Pat that just goes unacknowledged for the most part.

Pran associating Pat with freedom because he feels burdened.

Pran feeling undeserving of Pat's love.

Like I said, I'll be thinking about them a WHOLE LOT.

Quick question: Were there any talks of a season 2? Because there are some easter eggs peppered throughout the series that deserve further exploration, and they definitely have issues they need to address and work through as a couple. This ending will only count as an HFN (happy for now) in my book. I'm putting this ending on par with the To My Star ending, and I adored To My Star 2, so there's that. Still waiting for To My Star 3, though that's a discussion for another day.

One thing I can say for sure is that I'm extremely grateful for the fandom that has welcomed me with open arms and engaged with all my ramblings each episode, because let's be honest, it was just a stream of consciousness.

I wouldn't have had nearly as much fun watching the series without you guys. I'll be camping out on the rooftop for so long that I'll be claiming squatters rights for sure!!!

Tagging the usual suspects: @shortpplfedup, @incandescentflower, @starryalpacasstuff, @7nessasaryevils, @greenteadumplings, @grapejuicegay, @madworld-bbs, @usodeshou, @tao-moonb, @fanatic-freakshow @desi-yearning.

[doodlewizardry]

ooohhhh long long post!!!! [this is @doodlejoltik's main btw for any of the people I tagged that might not recognise it]

@pillowbugs aww thanks ! i didn't realise/remember that your blog was new at the time :O that's awesome to hear! it's fun seeing your art and writing!

i cannot possibly mention everyone cool that i know on this site but I'll try for a few at least. again in no particular order

@beastkonohaworld BK!!! you've been a great person to work with and an even greater friend :D chemmet is one of the highlights of my merch collection too. here's to another great year!

@protagpigeon KAIT! :D collabs shenanigans silliness you name it, if it's comedic we can do it XD immensely enjoyed all the time we've spent together, may there be endless more fun times to be had

@reestallized hey reestal! fellow Rei fan :D love your art and ideas loads, they're always so great to see !!! especially your traditional art it's something you do that is very cool :O same with the colour palette challenges

@cheesecake801 cheese it's quite possibly your fault that I enjoy volkner so much. it's contagious you spread it to everyone XDDD love the warm colours you use in your art and all the Character Thoughts you have, they're so wonderful <3

@skitter-kitter aka. one of the Lear fans ever. it's Definitely your fault i like Lear so much i blame you entirely /lh thank you for the fun times vibing about writing in DMs together, the community you've organised for us Lear fans, and generally being Very Cool <3

@ursamajorgamma we only met this past year, but it's been a delight knowing you! VC shenanigans beloved all our conversations have been so interesting and/or fun. epic Lear art and other paintings too :OO

@defoozor thank you for the cool art talk and other conversations, the awesome concepts you've made (Lear_Gem and Arc Suit Consequences are iconic) and also the VC fun hehe

@davepeta neppy you're always down for fun and silliness and you appreciate a good Bit! cool writing too, and art, and it's just awesome to hang out with you on chat.

@choochooboss Jun thank you for everything you've done for the community and being an AWESOME person to know! I've gushed many a time about how much i love pokemagma so I won't repeat myself but suffice to say it's one of the best things I've ever been part of. and to borrow from BK: U CUTE also!

@turtwisp we've only been talking regularly pretty recently, but you are very cool :3 love your barries !!!

@grubbin22 you are so nice and so sweet i've very much enjoyed the time we've spent together!!! and I've always admired your art so it's awesome to make your acquaintance

@monvallaria our acquaintance has been short so far but I'm absolutely loving it!!! you're a delight! love all your little doodles with hearts everywhere and much hilarity it's wonderful <3 <3 <3 here's to more fun together

@antihibikase it was super fun to talk and hang out productively, plus it's nice to see you around. i hope 2025 is a good year for you <3

@ultipoter yippee ulti! i love your art so much... such a recognisable and distinct artstyle with some traditional and anime influences that is Very Tasty. awesome character thoughts like that one Volo comic that popped off, hilarious Bits (Volo Cola, our incredibly stupid venn diagram /affectionate) and one of the guys of all time (holds up Jirou like a lil plushie). it's always a delight when you're around! I'm very happy to know you

@scraggscribbs hey scraggs, hope you've been well! i appreciate all the support and amazing comments you've given me on my fics <3 and you make such AMAZING manga with such interesting characterisation, I'm in awe! enjoy all our conversations very much and would love to catch up again :D

@hwpn-gurire I really appreciate all the comments and positive energy you bring to the pokemas community! you uplift everyone and always have a kind word :) plus your art is fantastic - thanks for teaching me that lil trick about offset colour, it's a really fun effect to use!

@claitea you have Many character thoughts that we are in agreement on / make me Think. really great stuff, thank you for appreciating my insane tag rambling on your posts LOL frequently pointing like yeah YOU GET IT! your art is great too with many :O comics that live in my brain rent free 👍

@kobandan you've listened to me a lot over this past year, thank you for that <3 your art is awesome, especially love your submas series with all their different pokemon. seeing those less popular combinations get the spotlight is great!

@smashwolfen originator of UPDOG my beloved snorlax.... thank you for the Very Epic name and continuing to stay subscribed to my silly Updog Newsletter XD I promise to continue the saga! also love your art, so much good PLA <33333 the Volo sketch page I remember quite well, phenomenal stuff hahahaha

@raikouswish rei-membering all the good times we've had this year 😁 i always have so much pun talking to you! here's to staying f-rei-nds in times to come >:3

@shibearts U CUTE !!!! love your designs and OCs they are super epic and you always hit me with the nostalgia blast. you've inspired me with your character design! geographyverse collab sometime this year surely

@submastrain it's been awesome collaborating with you! your rendering and colours make my brain light up they're so good :O

and many MANY more people that I've had the pleasure of talking to or reblogging posts back and forth with or drawing with - I'm sorry I can't mention you all!! appreciate all of you, whether we're mutuals or you're just following me along on this ride - both here and with my pokeposting :3

happy new year!

@jumpy-buggy-33 @ollie-arts67 @ashmeertheimp @k4izershasfreakycanon @cyrophobia

[And all my moots becuz I'm supposed to be helping out during party 😋]

[alexanderwales]

Meta is planning to start adding bots to their site to interact with their users. These bots will have their own personalities, their own likes and dislikes, and they'll interact with you, and each other. It is, in some sense, the worst answer to the loneliness epidemic anyone could possibly come up with.

I wonder whether it will work.

I expect that people will flee en masse once they realize that it's happening, but that's what I would do. I want people and AI to be segregated, not mixed: if I want to talk to an AI, that's what I'll go do, if I want to post something to social media, I'll do it with the expectation that real people will see it and like it, or possibly argue me to death about it, or ignore it. But it will be real people doing it, and that's important to me.

I'm not sure I know how other people think.

Some people are just lonely. I can imagine my dad making a post and smiling at the immediate replies, even if he knows on some level that this is not real. There's a part in Scott McCloud's Understanding Comics where he talks about how you can make a person see a face with just a circle, a line, and two dots:

And I do think that social media can be like this too, that the average person will read humanity into even short replies from AI that's clearly marked as AI. If there's a cast of recurring characters in your posts, if they have some rough texture to them, if you have even a chance of clucking your tongue, smiling, and saying "oh Jenn" at a post shat out by the "slightly kooky middle-aged woman who believes in crystals" AI personality Meta has decided you need in your life ...

I think it's a path to a dying platform, but I'm really not sure about that. Maybe some social media platforms will just evolve to be something else, a place where you get your cure for social isolation, where everyone understands you, where you can "win" every conversation, where no one pushes back very hard. They think you're funny and insightful and attractive. Maybe people don't care about "real" very much.

I guess in another two or three years, we'll have an answer.

[minervakarsh]

I’m a straight white cis teenage girl, and sometimes I can’t help but feel… out of place on Tumblr.

I love it here, I really do, but… Tumblr is known for being the site for the gays and the trans and the people of color, and I… well, I’m neither.

In real life, I do have certain privileges because of it, I admit - the country that I live in doesn’t like LGBT very much, and many people still even hold racist views (which I don’t share and hopefully never will). But I do everything I can - which isn’t much - to change that, to make my mom stop calling my friend by his deadname, to yell at people who think gay is an insult.

But Tumblr is not real life, so each time I encounter a post that says something like “I love you trans people <3” I feel two things at once.

The first one is happiness - for my best friend irl and many friends here, as well as some people I will never know.

But the second one is… something between loneliness and envy. And it’s irrational, and I hate that I feel it, but I can’t stop it.

The point of this reblog is… thank you, OP. I may not be a man, but it still applies to me and I still appreciate your words…

Can people like stop acting like everyone outside of a specific group is bad, like I see so many posts against all cis people, against all straight people, against all men, against all white people, against all neurotypicals etc, and like, there are people within those groups who are our allies, can we stop acting like all of them are bad? Like yes, they have privileges that some of us don't, but like their entire group isn't bad because of it. It's really tiring seeing so many people hating just in general, can't we try to focus more on like helping eachother or something?

[toskarin]

Is Vgen safe to use? I'd never heard of it before you mentioned it but it looks cool

this answer's going to be a bit roundabout because I don't feel comfortable directly vouching for anyone who handles money besides myself. and I don't even vouch for myself

so, vgen is basically a non-japanese* (*: primarily western, but that's more of a demographic thing than a platform restriction) version of skima mixed with skeb, both of which are existing sites that japanese artists use to take sketchbook style requests

pixiv also does this now, along with a few other japanese sites, but it's generally been kind of limited to being an otaku thing, even outside of japan, and it's very often been limited to japanese artists actually taking these requests (even if anyone can send them) because of legal issues around international payment

for context, skeb's request-based style of commissioning gained a lot of popularity because it's, frankly, antisocial in a comfortable way for both clients and artists

[you can skip this section if you know what skeb is]

you can think of it as paying an artist to draw something with the understanding that you are paying for the literal act of them drawing it, rather than for a refined and specific finished product

in this format, the requester puts money on the table alongside a brief outline of what they want and any applicable references. there is usually an outline of how much you should pay at minimum, some examples of that artist's work, and (traditionally) a hard rule that neither party in this arrangement communicates with each other about it outside of the request-accept-send-tip procedure itself

traditionally, when the artist accepts the request, the platform takes the money and holds it in escrow. then, when the artist sends the finished work, the exchange is concluded with the requester receiving the work (possibly along with a written note by the artist) and the artist receiving their payment from the site. if the artist doesn't finish the work before an agreed-upon deadline, the money is refunded

in the original skeb format, if the requester especially enjoys the art, it's customary to tip the artist, which applies a golden border around the art and allows the requester to include a thank-you note, displayed alongside the artist's commentary and their original request

this is important to lay out because, as you might notice, there are no windows for revisions and no active direct lines of communication allowed. I've seen people get angry about this before, so that's one way in which the skeb style of commission can be considered "unsafe"

there's a lot of misconceptions around the differences in legal rights here, but the bottom line is that, when it comes to commissioned artwork, most people on the english-speaking internet are profoundly misinformed about the laws around things and operate largely on handshake agreements that wouldn't really hold up in any court, if push came to shove

[end skip]

so! let's get to vgen

vgen, being an adaptation of this format, actually mixes in a lot of different features that I would consider to be more traditional for western art commissions. it carries over the skima/skeb style storefronts, but adapts them more towards serving vtubers (a common use case for skeb and skima) with a slight tilt towards the client having additional protection

for example, to open an artist storefront on vgen, you have to either be invited in by someone or pass some variety of notability verification test (either an engagement baiting post including your art or winning a contest of some fashion)

to make requests, you just kind of make an account and send the money

skeb style commissions do exist on vgen, but the site is designed to allow additional stages of artist communication on certain requests. this means that you may get some extra securities as a client, or you may not, depending on the terms of the request

one notable rule of vgen which makes it distinct from similar sites is that you can't draw porn on there. this may come as a shock, because people aren't great about following that rule, but it is actually a pretty firm rule on account of the site being more beholden to major western-centred payment processors

so, as far as the site itself goes, if you keep yourself familiar with the rules and actually read the terms of your deals, you're safe there in the same way that you're safe when making a conscious decision to climb a tree

as far as financial matters and the site's management go, I don't know, and I can't know because I don't know the staff personally

I have made a personal decision to trust that they're acting in good faith. I've made a request through the site before to test it out, it went as expected, so my decision to use it is informed by my own sense of risk management

TL;DR: is vgen safe to use? I don't personally think it's uniquely risky as far as storefronts go, but it's an online storefront where people sell each other things, so treat it as one and walk about as carefully as you always do

[always-and-forever-alone]

➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵

Worrying

Remus lupin x gn!reader

➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵

➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵

Summary:[reader gets a vision that someone is getting hurt in the whomping willow; they decide that they can't just let someone be hurt so they go to help, only it turns out they are the ones that will be hurt]

TW: [reader gets slightly hurt, blood, slow burn kinda, angst, happy ending, reader is a seer/can see the future, I have dyslexia]

Note: [this was supposed to be a blurb... tell me if i misspelled something or got something wrong]

➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵

Sleep does not come easy, you toss and turn. Thinking of ways to fall asleep faster, but to no avail. Something feels wrong like you are missing something you should know.

Somehow, you fall asleep, but your dream is unsettling; your mind leads you through grass, the night sky is clear, and you make out the whomping willow. The air is cold and uninviting. Something horrible is in the air. Fear of one's self, guilt without strong reason. But has this person that feels, done anything wrong? It's unclear

In the tree, the vision goes. A blurred site, barely making out a man, in pain, screaming. So much weight in the scream, not just physical pain. It's sure to never leave the head of whoever hears it, and unfortunately, the head is yours. It echoes, will it end?

There's more, though, an unidentifiable amount of people are near, feeling sad as if they are losing something or maybe someone. They know this is temporary, but it hurts to see. But what are they seeing? The people changed, but not like the one that screamed. The unwillingness of one is guided by the willingness of some.

The vision weakens as the connection starts to stop; the vision of what the night is to hold slowly leaves.

A piercing scream wakes you. Your eyes snap open. You look around at your dorm mates, all perfectly asleep. This makes you think that there was no scream. But it was so reel feeling. It was kind of hard to depict what dreams were real or just that, a dream. It was so much easier in the day because you can't dream well awake and not be in control.

You look at the time around 4:20 a.m. You try to find reasons you should investigate. You've already lost sleep; what could it hurt? It'd put you at ease when you see that nothing is wrong because surely nothing is wrong. Right?

Getting out of your bed, you grab a jacket and a poison of healing, for if someone is hurt, you will help. You disillusion yourself, quietly creeping down the hall. The paintings are asleep, and you have yet to run into a perfect. The walk seems unusually long, although maybe because you want answers.

Pushing open one of, many doors, open, you slip out into the darkness. The moon provided enough light to see where you were going. Even with a jacket the air was so cold, it was weird connecting that it wasn't winter.

Approaching the whomping willow, you look for a way in. But it's too late. The tree is already swinging at you. You jump out of the way. Running when you see an opening. Without too much though, you go through it.

You hear scratching as if a mouse was running by. A little grossed out by the thought of unkempt animals living here you move forward. The same way the vision went.

Nearing a door, you tentatively push it back. Slowly exposing whatever was inside. But with a sharp bang, the door shut; there was so much force you stumbled back. Making a move to not fall down the stairs you just climbed, and pulling yourself to the boor again, something or someone had been thrown to the boor. There's no way someone didn't get hurt. So wanting to help you move closer to the door.

This time you open the door quickly, sliding inside. You feel like you should be scared right now, but for some reason, it feels so right for you to be here. Although the scene in front of you did scare you. A dog, mouse, deer, and, for Merlin's sake, a werewolf were right in front of you. The mouse makes some sense, but never had you seen a dog in Hogwarts, and maybe a deer, but how did it get in? And a werewolf!

It smells you instantly, no longer interested in whatever was happening before it slowly stocks towards you. The deer threw it by its antlers, but the werewolf was back on its feet fast. The dog started barking as the mouse jumped on its eyes, trying to temporarily blind it. And all I could do was stand there, my face going pale.

With one move, it jumped towards me, the mouse falling with a light thud; you were sure your body was going to follow. But the werewolf barely graced your cheek. Confused, you opened your eyes; the werewolf was changing back; the sun peaked through the wood. Shocked, you see your good friend Remus. As the others in the room misinterpreted your reaction, all you could feel was concern for your friend.

And like that you fainted.

➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵

You open your eyes and take in your surroundings. Confusion fills you as you try to piece together your situation. You're in the hospital wing. Memories begin to resurface. You recall the vision, the chaos with the whomping willow, and the fact that Remus is a werewolf.

Seeing Sirius and James, there helping up Remus, and Peter is carrying what I assume is Remus's stuff. You quickly stand up and move toward them. You feel like you need to apologize for putting Remus in that situation. But James starts guiding him away, James signals for Sirius to talk to you. With Sirius now standing in your way. You call Remus's name but he just puts his head down and keeps moving forward a little faster now.

"Look, you can't tell anyone, I'm sorry you got hurt. But it's not his fault, he isn't him when he's like that." Sirius says, a little mad as if you've already told. You move your hand to your cheek after he mentions you being hurt. It's gone, leaving what feels like a scar "Of course, I wouldn't tell anyone. Why would I even do that? It's not my life," Sirius looks at you for a moment and seems to relax, but not much.

With that, he starts walking off. "Wait! Can I talk with him," you reach for his hand, he slips it out before you can reach it. "It's best if you don't; Remus doesn't want to hurt anyone, especially not someone like you," he starts moving away, "What does that mean?" But he doesn't stop, leaving you behind.

Miss Pomfrey, now realizing you are awake walks over to you. "Dear, do you feel good enough to leave. Evening is healed. You fainted from shock" I look at her and nod. "Ok dear"

You get your stuff and leave; what will you tell people when they ask about the scar? Probably something about being clumsy.

➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵

For the next two weeks, you tried talking to Remus, even sending him letters. He got them but was so ashamed of himself and feeling like a monster he didn't read them. Sirius told him that you were not going to tell, but Sirius didn't say much else; he offered that I should talk to you, but what if you hate me? Even when he reassures me that you don't hate me. How would he know?

I didn't throw away the letters, though; they just kept piling up on my bedside table.

Sirius and James said that if I don't want to talk to you then they'll support it, but I know they want me to talk to you. How could I, I hurt you.

You had tried many ways to get a chance to talk to Remus, but someone you were once close with was now ignoring you. While you weren't friends with the other Marauders, you hoped that one day you would be. It felt as though they hated you. What could you do...

Your other friends started to notice that something was wrong; you seemed a little more gloomy and often stared off into space, lost in deep thought. When you weren't doing that, you were writing. Normally, they would assume it was schoolwork, but you had such a pained expression on your face.

It was only when they saw the marauders looking out at you, or more like just Remus. At first, maybe it was an accident or just so happened to be where his eyes landed, but then a second and a third, and a fourth time. He had the same look as you. Guilt. There was something there.

One evening, your friends had dragged you down to dinner; you stared at your food, picking at it, but not eating it. You heard a sigh; looking up, you saw a disappointed friend. You're disappointed friend. "You know food is for eating, not for playing with," she finally says. You are about to reply when it hits you: a brilliant idea. You gasp, "what day Is it" you ask looking to see if You can see it anywhere.

"Are you alright?" concern replacing the disappointment, "no im not, what day is it!" You ask, packing your things, your friend answers hesitantly. Just like you thought, it was the full moon.

You run to your room, get ready, grab some food and a good book, and then sneak to the hostel wing. He'll have no choice but to see you there when he gets back in the morning. So there you were in the hospital wing. Madam Pamfry doesn't try to get you to leave; she could tell you need to be here more than sleep. So you waited, you had grabbed a book to read but you were far to nervous now.

Just 20 minutes after sunrise, Remus was pulled into the hospital wing. The boys were too busy to see you; madam told them to leave so she could treat him. When she was done you quickly went over to him, hidden by the curtains, you asked Madame Pamfry to make sure the boys wouldn't introduced and then thanked her.

Just as she left, Remus started to wake. He seemed so peaceful for a second. Before realizing why he was there and what he was. And then he saw you. "We need to talk," you whisper. "Yeah," he mutters. "I'm sorry-" you start, but he also says 'I'm sorry' which is why you stop; we both look up, and you smile lightly, but he does not. With a sigh he says "You go first" You nod your smile falling, I start, "I'm sorry I put you in that position, and I'm sorry I messed up our relationship, and I get if you no longer want to be friends, this will be my last attempt to talk to you If you wish I'll leave" and somehow he looks even more hurt.

"No. Of course, I still want to be your friend, I thought... I thought you hated me and considered me a monster." You can't help but laugh at the exhaustion you could not have gone through if this had just not happened. "Well, now we know that we're both wrong," you add. "Never thought I'd be happy about being wrong." he smiles this time; you agree.

"I was worried," you say, getting it off your chest. "You were?" He asked, surprised, "Yeah".

"This is going to make everything so much more complicated, but can I kiss you?" Completely caught off guard, you look up into his eyes and then quickly glance down at the ground. "Yes," you whisper. He reaches out and pulls you in; his lips are soft and hesitant, but you can feel him smile into the kiss. Behind you, you hear Sirius say, "Finally."

➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵

Hoped you liked it :>

[valyrfia]

People don't hate ferrarihive (thearchercore) because she vanishes what haha. they hate her ass because her posts are cringe as fuck and make Charles look like an idiot that everything he achieves is ONLY because of Max or only has to do with Max. Or she treats him like this fictional dude that only manages to do things because and for Max only and it's I fear common sense some lecfosi are gonna find that awkward and not, that cool? maybe. which like you said, they're free to block and move on. But you know, twitter is the place for haterism so if it gets negative opinions, well there's freedom on that too. Im not saying she deserves the hate but she can't possibly act shocked or confused about why the hate is coming. Like do you guys read yourselves? Almost 90% things posted make Charles look like an idiot which is not that deep since you're not exactly in charge of the pr and image of the guy (thank god for that). But you know, that will get fans with some sort of need to defend him, because that's almost the point of being a fan, defend and support, you know?

You asked me if I was reading my own posts, well I have to say, are you listening to yourself? Not only do you think the place to discuss this is in askboxes of two people who consider her a close friend, but what has she does to offend you? Exactly?

As far as I can see, all she does is make silly little edits that she has loads of fun making (for FREE mind you), and posts it on the internet. She's not at all like her two evil triplets @tsarinablogs and I who actively engage in discourse, she's literally just having fun with her fandom space by ONLY posting on two sites and then curating her community beyond belief here because (not to doxx her but) she's an extremely intelligent, extremely hardworking, and extremely employed woman with a job and a full adult life and THIS is her hobby to relax and have fun! Are you REALLY going to bitch and moan about it because....other people happen to like this content that she's making? Which is ultimately a tiny fraction of the F1 related content churned out daily? And is produced for her own enjoyment and anyone else's happiness is an unexpected bonus? It's reductive, it's pointless, and I'm actually going to fully point my finger at you and say it's mean. J'accuse.

"twitter is the place for haterism" no it's the place for awful insane groupthink which gains traction because it's the kind of content which keeps you on that screen selling your precious time and energy to advertisers and El*n M*sk. Also, I'm going to be blunt, love Charles, that's my driver and my blorbo and Forza Ferrari and he is the second coming and all the rest, but that multi-millionaire rich white man with extremely questionable morals does not need you defending his honour and integrity past "his driving on track is hot" and "he said what he said about the opposing team". THAT is defending and supporting as a fan. It is NOT choosing to bitch about people just doing their own thing for their own enjoyment on the internet! Please, I say this with all the care I can muster, touch some grass.

[wings-of-fire-confessions]

Wings of Fire needs a renaissance, both the fandom and the book series in general.

The fandom has been dead (or at least has felt dead even if it's not) for years. Tumblr is fairly well off (even if it feels lacking anyway) but youtube has been bland at best, MAP community can be unforgiving at times, it's generally hard to connect with people on the Roblox game, all the Wings of Fire Discords I am in are dead, Twitter is Twitter, I don't want to use Instagram anymore in the first place if they go through with the AI users thing, Fandom Wiki is riddled with ads and should really be moved to a different site like Mirahaze + heard it is fairly bad anyway, and I have heard horror stories about the Reddit. I haven't had genuine fun with this fandom for years at this point and I generally just wish it was better. There are a lot of amazing artists out there in this fandom but I have my own issues with a lot of them I won't get into. I have met some amazing people in this community, sure, but recently the fandom just has felt like a ghost town.

And we all know how arc 3 went. While I personally enjoy arc 3 to some extent I know the large majority of this fandom hates it and I can see why. And if arc 4 introduces a new tribe, new continent, or both, I think that may be the straw that breaks the camel's back. Pantala and multiple tribes (most notably mudwings) still need to be fleshed out more before the mere idea of a new tribe or continent is considered. Plus, 10 tribes already feels like too much. Having so many tribes feels overwhelming and hard to keep track of, especially since Wings of Fire is a kids series (it would not be published by Schoolastic if it was not), I feel like many kids would be overwhelmed by 10+ tribes, if they weren't already overwhelmed by the 20+ books in the series.

Honestly, I think the best thing in the whole scope of this right now is the graphic novels. Mike's art style just improves with each book and I think the new Escaping Peril graphic novel was amazing. This is likely an unpopular opinion though seeing as a surprising amount of the fandom doesn't like the graphic novels.

I am fully aware this may just be me growing older and losing my interest in Wings of Fire, but genuinely, this whole series and fandom needs a miracle to keep it alive. That's all I am saying.

.