#i will change what needs to be changed in order to do it

[alleyjunk]

Hunter Schafer had her passport gender marker changed back to M after years of having at as F, and she said the only document not changed was her birth certificate. Implies the agency responsible for passports is cross referencing with other documents and is not just denying new gender marker changes but will start forcibly reverting them to their original marker. God knows what else they have access to but I'm sure it's not pretty.

I need people to understand how serious it can get. And if you only start noticing now and ringing alarm bells, better late than never; but it's also a shame if it takes a white celebrity to sound off in order for people to take institutional transphobia and transmisogyny seriously. Even if this is a notable escalation, it displays a serious devaluing of the violence faced by any invisible transfem, seeing as we are typically the canary in the coal mine. Marginalized transfems of all stripes, nonwhite, disabled, poor, have been begging for people to pay attention and take stuff seriously and it's a disgrace that it's just been met with, at best, performative gestures. We need to keep us safe, and we need to do better to do that.

[little-jana]

"Soft Words in a Loud World"

Pairing: Spencer Reid x gn!reader

Genre: fluff

Words: 2k

Warnings: Mentions of past trauma (vague, non-explicit), hurt/comfort

Summary: You don’t like shouting—haven’t for as long as you can remember. But Spencer knows. And Spencer never does.

a/n: requested by anon! Thank you, hope u like it! 💞

The first time Spencer saw you flinch at raised voices, he didn’t say anything.

He just noticed.

It was during a briefing, when Hotch had snapped out orders a little too sharply in response to a particularly frustrating case. It wasn’t directed at you, but that didn’t matter. The moment the tension spiked, you had gone quiet, your shoulders stiff, your gaze locked onto a fixed point on the table.

You hadn’t reacted too noticeably—probably not enough for most people to pick up on it.

But Spencer wasn’t most people.

And Spencer noticed everything.

After that, he made sure to be careful.

Not obviously, not in a way that would make you feel singled out. Just small things—lowering his voice when he spoke to you, never raising it even when he got passionate about a subject (which, let’s be honest, was often). If the team was in a heated discussion, he’d subtly shift his body so he was blocking you from the worst of it.

He never asked about it. Never pried.

But you knew he knew.

And you were grateful.

It wasn’t until months later that you brought it up.

You and Spencer were sitting on his couch, legs stretched out over a mess of books and case files. The TV was on, playing some old sci-fi movie that neither of you were really paying attention to.

“I don’t think I ever said thank you,” you murmured.

Spencer blinked, looking up from the book in his lap. “For what?”

You hesitated.

“For… never shouting,” you admitted, your voice softer than before.

Spencer frowned slightly. “I wouldn’t have a reason to shout at you.”

“I know,” you said quickly. “But I mean, even when things get intense. Or frustrating. You always…” You gestured vaguely. “You just don’t.”

His expression shifted—understanding settling in like it always did when he pieced things together.

“I just don’t like it,” you said, picking at the seam of your sleeve. “I never have.”

Spencer was quiet for a moment, considering his words.

Then, gently, “Did something happen?”

You shrugged, not meeting his eyes. “Yeah. A long time ago.”

You didn’t elaborate. You didn’t have to.

Spencer nodded, as if that was all he needed to know.

“I get it,” he said simply. “Loud voices can be overwhelming. They change the whole atmosphere of a room. Even if they’re not directed at you, it can still feel like a threat.”

Your breath caught slightly.

Because, yeah.

That was exactly it.

You glanced at him, and Spencer gave you a small, knowing smile. “It’s not the same thing,” he admitted, “but I don’t like shouting either. Growing up, I used to get overwhelmed in loud environments. Too much stimulation all at once.” He tapped his temple lightly. “My brain doesn’t filter external stimuli the way most people’s do. Everything just… comes in at the same volume.”

That made sense. You’d always known Spencer had a hard time with crowded spaces and loud noises.

“I just learned to cope with it,” he continued. “But I always preferred quiet.”

You studied him for a moment, warmth filling your chest. “Guess that’s why we get along so well.”

Spencer smiled. “Guess so.”

And that was it.

No prying. No pushing.

Just understanding.

Just Spencer.

And for the first time in a long time, you felt safe.

You never had to ask him to be gentle with his words.

He just was.

[a-scary-lack-of-common-sense]

I have a super serious art request

Draw whatever you want to draw

THANK YOU, now I have an excuse to draw my silliest favorite character from literally my only happy Gravity Falls AU: Mimic!Stan.

The basic premise of the lore:

And some extra rambles about the AU:

Mimics are different from shapeshifters! While the latter tend to be more fluid in shape- frequently changing appearance and form for brief moments- mimics usually stick to one disguise for a longer period of time. They do alter their shape, but they prefer to maintain a relatively consistent form for as long as they need until they need a new one.

Mimics are reality alterers. They are more powerful than shapeshifters, in a way, but their abilities are still considered relatively minor, compared to more powerful reality alterers.

This is because a mimic's main goal is to establish a long term food source to feed themselves, and in order to do that, they need a long term shape / identity (hence why they don't often shift forms). They will either build an entirely new identity, or take over an existing person's life in order to seamlessly infiltrate and artificially graft themselves into their surroundings. They mildly alter reality around them in order to solidify their mimicry.

For example, you could one day suddenly find yourself with a new uncle. He didn't exist yesterday, but every family photo in your house indicates that he has been present in your life since the beginning. Your memories now contain him, even though you've never met this man before. Everyone else around you also remember him, and recognize his face and voice, even though until today, he didn't even have an identity. It's like he's always been there, but he hasn't, really. That's what mimics do.

-------------------------

Stan is a mimic! He was considered the runt amongst the mimics in Gravity Falls back when the town was new. He was young (in mimic standards) and inexperienced, and expected to starve within a few months. His mimicry was fine, but his reality altering abilities were weak. He was unable to properly integrate himself into town, and kept failing.

ENTER STAGE STANFORD PINES. Born twin-less and former child prodigy, recently graduated from West Coast Tech and having finally escaped his stifling hometown, Ford is thrilled to have arrived in Gravity Falls! Hopefully he won't be as lonely in this new town as he spent his childhood, constantly feeling like he's missing a piece of himself. (*wink wink*)

Good news for Ford, he'll soon be getting an anomaly knocking right at his door, looking exactly like him and insisting that he's his twin brother. Yes, really! Check your photographs. What do you mean your photos are empty? Damnit, again?

(It was Stan. He failed. Again. He's lucky Ford is weird and sees this as a perfect research opportunity.)

[lovesickhughes]

15 minutes | jack hughes

a/n: so i love sabrina's new deluxe album, and it really holds true: put me in a room with jack hughes and i can do a lot in 15 minutes. it's all i need. anyway, ENJOYYYYY. i wrote this in one sitting, not proofread very well so i apologize in advance. SEND IN REQUESTS I WOULD LOVE TO WRITE ANY IDEAS U HAVE 🩵

summary: i can do a lot in 15 minutes, only gonna take 2 to make you finish!

warnings: EXPLICIT SEXUAL CONTENT– mdni [18+]. rough sex, jack hitting it from behind 🤭, p in v, praise kink, unprotected sex (PLEASE remember to always practice safe sex). if i missed anything please lmk!

wordcount: 2.8k

。·:*:･ﾟ★,。·:*:･ﾟ☆

Tonight was another one of those nights where your skin itched, and it craved to elicit some spark under Jack's tail.

Maybe it was the atmosphere, the dimly lit conference hall that was rented out by the team that was decorated with black and red decorations, the drinks buzzing through everyone's veins and the romantic music that carried throughout the space, or maybe it was simply the way Jack looked in his suit.

From the moment Jack soothed down the fabric of his blazer, your eyes trailed from his head to feet, soaking in his appearance and salivating at the sight of your handsome boyfriend.

It was moments like these where you were reminded how Jack had you completely wrapped around his finger, drowning in a puddle of your drool over how effortlessly Jack could pull off any look. From hockey gear, to fancy suits, or even when you found him in bed, with nothing on; there was nothing Jack couldn't pull off.

So as you stood next to Jack, perfectly tucked into his side as he talked to a few of his teammates and their families, a glass of liquor in his one hand while the other was occupied around your waist, his hand on the small of your back. The small gesture, and being so close to him, sent a buzz through your veins, your body temperature slowly increasing with anticipation as Jack never seemed to have you out of his reach.

From the moment you arrived, his hands were on you and you loved it. If anything, it was your favourite thing about him; how he always seemed to know all the right places to touch you, sending warmth through your body, and sparking butterflies to flutter in your stomach. Whether it was his hand being intertwined with yours as you walked through the venue, or when you stood at the bar and his hand rubbed up and down against the fabric of your dress that splayed down your back, you itched beneath your skin to get some sort of release that was pent up as the night progressed.

So as you were stood at one of the small, round tables that reached your ribs, sipping lightly on a glass of wine you had ordered from the bar, you politely listened to the conversation Jack was having amongst his teammates and friends.

And although you desperately attempted to pay attention to the conversation, your mind couldn't help but wonder to what you couldn't seem to get out of your head: the things you could and wanted to do to Jack.

It almost felt illegal to you, for Jack to look as amazing as he did, and you felt your mouth grow wet as you watched him intently— the way his face moved as his expressions changed as he spoke and listened, how his hand would every so often raise to take a sip of his drink or run a hand through his brown curls, or how his hand that was placed on your side, would every so often rub against your skin and his thumb would circle on your hip, creating a warmth to flood between your legs.

The night had passed by relatively quickly, and by the time you were finished with your third drink of the night, you noticed people began to slowly make their way home. However, there was still a decent group of teammates and their wives and girlfriends, circled around the small bar table, laughing and exchanging stories.

Although you were interested in what everyone had to say, you were clearly more interested in getting your hands on Jack, not knowing how much more you could withstand the sensation that rose between your legs, making your skin hot.

You reached to place your hand against Jack's chest, grabbing his attention, and he looks down to meet your eager eyes, his cheeks flushed pink from the alcohol coursing through his veins.

He leans down to speak into your ear, the loud environment causing Jack's voice to sound small amidst everyone else. "What's up, baby? You okay?" He asked softly, turning his body to face yours, his hand still around your waist, now rubbing delicately against your skin.

You smiled softly at his attentiveness, "I'm good, yeah," you reassure him, nodding your head before biting your tongue to hold back what your mind is begging you to say.

Jack knows you like the back of his hand; he knows all the ins and outs of you, your likes and dislikes and all your little quirks that make you, so when he sees you hesitate to continue talking, he tilts his head down, his gaze deepening with yours, silently encouraging to continue.

You press yourself upward to meet Jack's ear, making sure no one else heard what was on your mind, and what you could be confessing to Jack— your cheeks growing warm as you reached a hand up to the nape of his neck, twirling his brown curls with your fingers against the nape of his neck.

"I need you, like— right now." You giggled, feeling a little embarrassed at your confession, and you stood back, watching Jack's face twitch as he processed your words. You could see him shutter at your words, swallowing thickly, knowing your words immediately were sent to his core, making his cock twitch beneath his pants.

He sheepishly grinned at you, pulling you into his embrace and hugging you, but while wrapping your own arms around his neck, you couldn't help but feel Jack's growing bulge press against your abdomen, making the heat that filled your cheeks spread to the rest of your body, sending an unrecognizable sensation through your veins.

Jack chuckled lowly as he planted a few quick pecks to your forehead, holding you tightly against his body.

"Babe, you can't just say that to me." He said as he leaned back to look down at you through hooded eyes, and you gave him a soft pout of your lips, looking up at Jack with doe eyes, trying your best to seduce him into breaking down his facade and giving into the temptation you were offering.

"Why not? I mean, we can be quick— I really won't be long." You said through a grin that spread through your face, both of you knowing exactly what you meant.

Jack's eyebrows rose. "Oh really, you think so?" He pressed. When it came to who could tease the other and make them a completely flustered mess, it was an ongoing competition between the two of you, and Jack made it his mission to win, leaving you hot and bothered by his words and seductive actions.

Your teeth sunk into your bottom lip, trying to contain your excitement and eagerness as Jack looked around to his surroundings before shaking his head and taking your hand with his own, straightening his stance.

He turned to his teammates and their significant others and announced your departure for the night, and although a few attempted to protest Jack and you leaving, they bade their goodbyes, and you began to walk urgently through the venue to the exit.

In the meantime, your hand had slipped to reach for your phone, quickly pulling up the app to order an Uber, and Jack stood behind you, both of his hands tightly gripping your hips as you were pressed up against his chest.

You lean into his embrace, tilting your head back to meet Jack's eyes, smiling and planting a kiss on his jawline before turning in his arms to get a better look.

"Y'know, we didn't have to go home, I'm sure we could've found a secluded bathroom or somethin'," you shrugged, knowing well enough that Jack would find any way to get his hands on you properly, without having to worry about being caught.

He grinned, eyes squinting as his hands that were placed on your hips, gave your skin a quick squeeze, "C'mon, babe. You cant just tease me like that and give me barely anything." He chuckled and his gaze averted to the car that was pulling up, matching the description on your phone. "And plus, when you look like this, there's no way I'm not gonna have all of you."

Your eyebrows raised in shock at Jack's remarks, following his steps towards the Uber and sliding into the backseat and you couldn't help to contain your smile that spread on your face, knowing you would be in for a treat when you get home.

The Uber ride back to Jack and your shared apartment seemed to pass by within a blink of the eye, and before you knew it, you were stumbling through the door, making sure it closed behind you as Jack was hot on your tail as you made your way to the bedroom.

When you entered your shared bedroom, Jack's hands that were previously on your hips, guiding you to your bedroom, now found themselves at your shoulder, fumbling with the top of your dress, attempting to slide it off of your body.

As soon as your dress was peeled from your body, Jack softly pushed your body forward, your hands coming out in front of you to catch yourself against the plush mattress, and you peered over your shoulder, watching as Jack discarded his own clothes, stepping out his boxers and revealing his swollen cock, that sprung upwards once it was free from his clothes.

Jack pumped his cock a few times, spitting into his own hand to make sure his cock was primed before he aligned himself behind you, your knees now pushed onto the mattress as you weighed on all fours, anticipating Jack to slide into you with ease.

When you felt the pressure of Jack's hips against yours and his cock filling you, stretching you out in all the best ways, you both let out a moan of relief at the feeling, letting Jack sit for just a moment and letting you adjust before he began moving his hips in a forward motion, filling you out completely until he bottomed out.

"Fuck, baby, you look so good like this," Jack groaned, his hand finding your hip to steady himself as his thrusts began to pick up in pace.

You hummed, "Mhm, just for you, only you, Jack." You nodded in reassurance, knowing the praise went straight to Jack's ego.

His thrusts immediately sped up at the sound of your remarks, and soon the sound of skin slapping against each other filled the room, your moans following each blissful thrust as Jack pounded into you. Holding your weight on your elbows, your hands gripped the sheets beneath you in pleasure as the sounds of Jack's cock sliding in and out of you made you even more wet than you already were.

"Fuck, Y/n, you're fuckin' perfect, takin' me so well," Jack groaned, his hands roaming up your back and kneading at the skin of your shoulder and neck. "Think you can tease me in front of my teammates- being a desperate little slut, wanting this cock so bad." He jutted through each breath as he hit your sweet spot, making you moan loudly as your head fell into your chest in pleasure.

"Jack, please- keep going, fuck," You encouraged as the air in your throat seemed to get caught in your throat.

As Jack continued to pound into you, your knees slid to the sides, spreading your legs further, and in an attempt to readjust your body, Jack hiked your one leg up towards your hip, stretching you to reach even deeper into your pussy that swallowed him so perfectly.

The sight of you sprawled out on your mattress, a moaning, hot mess as Jack thrusted deep inside of you, was enough to make Jack come undone only by looking at you. But the sounds that came from your throat is what threw him over the edge, his thrusts faltering as he came closer and closer to his climax.

Even you, in sync with Jack's motions, could feel the tightness beginning to form in your lower half, the shocks of Jack's thrusts spreading euphoric sensations through your skin only furthering your approach to coming undone on Jack's cock.

But what you didn't expect, was for Jack to lean forward, his teeth sinking into your shoulder lightly, and his free hand slipping underneath your abdomen and sinking down to your dripping pussy, his fingers finding your sensitive clit and beginning to rub it in all the right ways that pushed you even furhter.

His thrusts slowed, but with every thrust, he'd hit so deep into your core that the shock of pleasure erupted through your entire body, your mouth hung open, air getting caught in your throat, leaving you unable to formulate words.

"I can feel you're getting close, baby, your perfect little pussy clenching me so good, fuckin' made for my cock." Jack whispered into your ear, making you whine in response.

"Jack, I'm so close." You whined, your head falling into your arms that were sprawled in front of you, and you felt Jack's hand speed up in its circular motion against your clit, his thrusts slowly beginning to speed up as you reached your peak.

When Jack's hand and thrusts came to an abrupt halt, you turned your head to see what Jack was doing, but before you had a moment to realize he was readjusting himself to hit even deeper into you than imagined, the feeling of Jack's fingers rubbing your clit and thrusting into you, was enough for the knot to come loose in your lower stomach, as heat flooded your body, euphoria and bliss taking over your senses and you loudly moan out in pleasure, calling Jack's name repeatedly.

He continued to thrust into you, more delicately as he reached his own orgasm, before spilling into you and coming to a rest, letting his cum fill your hole to the brim. And when he pulled out of you slowly, you couldn't help but let out a small whimper at the empty feeling.

Jack then leaned over your limp body, exhaustion now falling over you as you came down from your high. He placed a delicate kiss on your shoulder, trailing up to your temple. "I'll be right back. Let's get you cleaned up, 'kay?" Jack said softly, and you nodded in response, a soft smiling rising on your face at Jack's tender aftercare.

After he slipped into the bathroom to grab a warm washcloth, he came back, delicately cleaning you up, making sure to be soft around your sensitive core, and you turned your head to watch him, noticing the grin on his face that you knew was because he felt his ego boost at the sight of you completely wrecked by him.

Not long after, you found yourselves tangled under the sheets, tucked into Jack's side as he trailed his hand up and down the side of your arm.

"You seem really proud of yourself, J, what's up with that?" You looked up to meet his gaze while your head rested on his chest.

"Well," He said as a matter of a factly, "you said it wouldn't take long for us." He pressed, "But you said that in a way that meant I wouldn't last," He continued, making your brows furrow in skepticism.

"Okay, and... what are you trying to get at?" You dragged out, searching his features to see what he was up to. His tongue toyed with the inside of his cheek, smiling sheepishly to himself, before looking back down at you.

"Oh, I don't know, maybe just the fact that you were the one to be begging for me to make you finish, pretty quickly too might I add." He said with raised eyebrows, confidence lacing through his voice.

You threw your head back in laughter, "And that should be a good thing."

"Don't worry, it definitely is," Jack reassured before leaning forward and flipping your bodies so you were underneath his broad frame, your night ending with a few more rounds to see who really could finish faster than the other.

[loservillepopulationthirteen]

It continues to get worse

Goon#2: I’m so sorry boss! I didn’t know they were a teenager when I sold to them!

Red hood, sighing: atp im not even angry anymore

Goon#3:thank goodness!

Red Hood: I’m just dissapointed. I thought after all these years…

Goon#2: OH GOD THATS WORSE BOSS! EVERYONE KNOWS THAT!

Red Hood: Do better

The goons: Yes, sir!

*after Red Hood leaves*

Goon#1: the dad levels are so strong!!!!

-

Some child: *in danger and scared*

Jason, seeing his child self in the kid (canon btw): hey, hey it’s okay *acts like what his kid self needed because the levels of projection and need for therapy are so strong on this one*

Goon#5: his dad insticts… they’re kicking in…

-

Red hood, walking in to see his ‘organization’ messed up: What are you doing?!?

Goon#3, whose desperatly trying to fix it: uhhhh

Goon#5: Goon 3 tripped over your copy of pride and prejudice while carrying stuff

Goon#3: I’ll kill you

Goon#5: :P

Red Hood: *distraughtly trying to find his book*

Goon#1: Heres your book boss! Saved it while everyone was panicking

Jason, who was borrowing it from Alfred because they do book swaps: your my favorite goon now

Goon#1: *victory dance as all the other goons glare*

-

Batman: I am-

Red Hood: not supposed to be in crime alley

Batman, giving big kicked puppy (???) vibes: the kids want to see you at dinner :( Agent A requested it

Red Hood: the ‘kids’ ruined my case

Batman: Agent A made cookies

Red Hood: …

Red hood: yeah okay i’ll wrap up and go home

Vengence in the night, the scourage of the villain, Batman: *pleased vibes*

Goon#6, already texting the gc: Red Hood dadded the BATMAN!!

Goon#2, replying: Can’t believe Red Hood was so mad he almost missed Dinner with his Kids…

Oracle, who can hack gcs and thinks this is hysterical: im about to do something really funny *discreetly sends more evidence of Red Hood being ‘Batman’s Dad’*

-

*Red Hood, about to order something when the tiniest Robin bursts into the warehouse during the middle of the day*

Red Hood, frantic: what are you doing here?!? It’s a school day!!! (Jason loves school)

Robin: tch… it was dumb anyways… just some dumb kids… they don’t even know how to fight

Red Hood: Do you want me to text B or cover for you?

Robin: … I do not want to go back right now

Red Hood: okay, okay… why don’t we go back to my apartment and drink some vegan hot chocolate

Robin: i’d like that

(Jason, in his head: man im a great big brother- i remember when dick would take me out during school hours)

Goon#4: Oh my god, how many kids does this guy have?!?

Goon#5: who even gave birth to that many?!?

Goon#3: maybe theyre adopted?

Goon#4: no thats stupid they all have the same black hair and blue eyed features

Goon#5: …

Goon#3: you can’t think like that about our boss!

Goon#5: I didn’t say anything

Goon#3: I could hear your thoughts

Goon#4: I thought metas werent allowed in gotham?

Goon#3: no thats just a rumor- wait i meant metaphorically

Goon#5: …

Goon#4: …

Goon#3: can’t believe all of you misunderstood my one sentence I bet boss never went through people horribly misconstruing him!

-

Red hood: *visibly tired that morning*

Goon#4: Rough Night?

Red Hood: nah, just my uh… family broke into my apartment to watch movies last night because I ‘missed movie night’

Goon#5: *nods sagely* children amirite?

Red Hood: *snorts* they definitely act like children

-

*Black Bat kicks Red Hood in the face*

Red Hood, writhing in agony on the floor: ow owww what was that forrr

Goon#1, sympathetically patting his back: daughters, amirite?

Jason, thinking about Lady Shiva: I guess?

-

Goon#2: Boss!!!

Red Hood: ?

Goon#2: I… joined a knitting club some time back after you told me to quit being high and get a hobby… and uh…

Goon#2: *shoves a knit scarf that says ‘worlds okayest Boss’ but the B looks a bit messy like it was supposed to be a D but the B was hastily changed later from somethinng starting with D(ad) to Boss* okaythatsitbye *runs away*

Red Hood: what was that all about???

Red Hood, staring at the scarf and tearing up: I’m so glad I’m having a good effect on the community

The goon squad, from afar: *wiping tears as they watch Red Hood’s reaction*

-

Red Hood: *sighs* so I’m experimenting with different recipes to surprise my uhhh greatest inspiration (alfred)

The goons: *listening intently*

Red Hood: And I have extras.

Goon squad: *cheering*

Red Hood, embarrassed: shut up or I’m giving them all to the alley kids and not you!

Goon squad: *rush to grab it*

Goon#2: oooh i love the peppermint one! Very christmassy

Red Hood: *snorts at christmasussy like the immature 19 year old his is that no one pays heed to*

Goon#3: Is there coffee in this one?

Red Hood: just to bring out the chocolate flavor- one of the robi- uh younger ones is addicted to coffee and I’m not trying to give him an avenue

Goon#1: You’re so responsible boss!

Red Hood: *shocked and happy as this is the first time anyones ever called post mortem Jason responsible*

-

*finally at the reveal*

Red Hood: I have… something to show you *takes off his helmet*

goons: *open staring*

goon#5: wow you look… young for your age!

goon#4: drop the skin care routine

Jason, in his head: wow they must mean the six months I was in the ground for I didn’t realize it was that obvious!

Jason, out loud: Lazarus water

Goon#3, been hired for some weird stuff before: *gasps* no wonder old men are so obsessed with it!

Jason: *snorts*

Will Jason ever realize his goons think hes some kind of immortal old aged man with a great skin care routine (goon#5)/vampire (goon#2) /wereworlf (goon#3) / cryptid old man (goon#1) /gotham pollution gone well (goon#4 who got booed out)

find out next time in- what do you mean i dont get to make a show out of Red Hood goons?!?

Imagine in the beginning, before Red Hood's goons figure out that he is a baby, they think he is a single dad of a bunch of kids, instead. And it is not like they are wrong, since he does parent all kids of Crime Alley, but they mean not them. They mean Bats, instead.

No one is sure how old Red Hood is. But they saw a single white streak of the hair once, so he is... old, right? And these Batkids, they always hang around him, whining and asking for something - surely, it is his kids? Right? That gotta be it.

Red Hood: Now, back to- Sorry, I need to take a call. Goons: Sure, sir. Red Hood: What... Oh my god, Red. What do you mean, you don't know how to wash the carpet without- Spoiled brat. Okay, listen to me, you first need to get a really hot water... Goons: That's definitely his son being in troubles.

(It was Tim, who accidentally ruined Alfred's favourite carpet. He was in big troubles that day.)

Robin, appearing on the doorstep of Red Hood's den: Scram. I am here to see Hood. Goons, staring at little Damian: Hm-m. Red Hood, pushing them away: Bad day? (Damian wordlessly raising his arms to be picked up by Jason) Okay. It is fine. Goons: Hm-m-M.

Nightwing, whining: You are so boring. Why don't you want to play Twister with us this Sunday? Red Hood, rolling his eyes: Shut up. Goons, overhearing the conversation: Kids, am I right? Red Hood: Huh?

Goons, watching Batman and Red Hood shouting on each other on the rooftop: Hey, do we think Batman is also his kid?.. Goons: (thoughtful pause) Red Hood, completely pissed off by his dad in the meanwhile: I am TIRED of you. Go back to your stupid ass CAVE and think about your behaviour. I don't want to see you AGAIN. Batman: But- Red Hood: OUT OF MY TURF. NOW!!! Goons, staring at Batman, who walks away sulkily: ...HM-M.

Red Hood, staring at the "Best Dad" merch, given him by his goons on his birthday: I am confused. Do they mean kids from Alley, or they view themselves as my kids... What does it mean? Uh. Whatever. It is kinda sweet. Red Hood, on the next day: Thanks, guys. Very thoughtful of you! Goons, high-fiving each other: Sure, boss!

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Captain's Orders 2

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, controlling behaviour, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: The Captain takes it upon himself to change your life.

Characters: Steve Rogers

Note: Ugh, here we go.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

Steve, Captain, First Avenger, whatever you should call him, follows you down the stairs. You're overly aware of his presence. You're confused by it.

You got in one argument on the internet and now he's here? What the heck is wasting his time online for? Doesn't he have a life? He did tell you to get one after all.

"I got it," he dips around you as you get to the bottom. He pulls back the fire door and you eye him warily as you step through. Once more, he's on your heels. He gets the front door too.

You cross your arms as you come out into the sunlight. He shades his eyes with his hands and sighs, "nice day, isn't it?"

You roll your tongue around before you answer, "yep."

"I saw a shop around here--"

"It's expensive," you say.

"I said I'd treat you--"

"Why?" You turn on him and stop in the middle of the sidewalk. You cringe and seal your lips. You steady yourself. "Sorry, I'm not trying to be rude. I got your message loud and clear. You didn't need to come and make sure. Is that why you came?"

"I will explain. Smoothies first." He insists.

You huff, "I know who you are but this is still kinda scary. How did you even find me?"

"You know who I am," he shrugs. Your chest swims with nerves. You nod and turn down the pavement.

"What'd you eat today? You should try some Vitamin C in the smoothie. Get a protein booster." He offers.

You're slightly irked by his advice, mostly the assumptions behind it. You wet your lips and bite back on your retort. You are not a combative person. You never have been. He was right on that front. You settle for a lot of nonsense.

You notice the stray glances in your direction. Not yours, his. People stare at him like fawns, wide-eyed and frozen in place.

"So, what did you have for breakfast?"

"Steve-- Captain-- What would you prefer?"

"We'll get to that too," he says smugly. His answer unsettles you further. He's so certain and you are entirely lost. Not to mention, embarrassed.

"It doesn't really matter what I ate," you say.

He points you ahead of him, down the walkway to the shop door. He once more opens it and sees you through. You enter and look around. The amount of booty-lifting leggings and bulging biceps has you shrinking down.

You stare up at the menu and try to piece together how to order. You get a base and a boost and then there's all these bobas and vitamins? This is too complicated.

"You have any recommendations?" You ask. Maybe that will appease him.

"Sure, I'll get you my usual. You wanna find a table?"

"Can do," you mumble and walk away.

You sit in the corner and cradle your chin in your hand. You tap your lip and blow a soft raspberry. There's a woman staring at you from her group of friends. Her assumptions would be kinder than Steve's. He's here to lecture you in person, not take you on a date.

He sits across from you and sets down a cup filled to the brim with sickly green. You shouldn't complain. You're not exactly eating gourmet. You thank him and reach for it. He stretches his hand over the top.

"You shouldn't put your elbows on the table. It's rude." He reproaches.

Your frown then sit up, dragging your arm off the table. You can't make yourself apologise. He so easily picks out your every flaw.

"You gonna try it?" He watches you.

You hesitate but bring the straw to your mouth. You sip and your cheeks pinch. It's bitter yet tangy. How?

"Mm, good," you lie."

"You get used to it," he says.

"Can I please know why I came home to you in my apartment?"

He grins and looks down. He pokes his tongue into his cheek.

"You don't get out much," he lifts his eyes.

"Yeah, you were right about that," you squirm and put the cup down. You clasp your hands in your lap.

"How old are you?"

You chew your cheek before you answer, "twenty-three."

"Mhmm, and you don't have any schooling? Not formal?" He wonders.

You put your eyes down, "no. Can't afford it."

"Huh, from what I gather, lots of students work their way through these days."

Your heart sinks.

"Couldn't get accepted either," you mumble. "That's my own doing. So no need to say it out loud."

Your shoulders slump and your eyes glaze. This is humiliating. It's like having lunch with your mom. Not that she ever did much better. Still, she picks you apart like a chicken leg.

"You should sit up. Bad posture won't feel good as you get closer to thirty," he girds.

You suck in a deep breath and sit straight. You scowl at him, "I got your point, alright? I already feel terrible. Is that what you want to hear?"

"No," he tilts his head. "I want you to try. I want you to do better."

"What does it matter to you? You don't know me."

"It matters to me because I can make you better," he says. "You said you don't get opportunities. That everyone else has everything handed to them, so my hand is open. I'm giving you what you're looking for."

"Huh?" You shake your head gently and furrow your brow.

"No rent, no work, none of that."

You blink and cross your arms. What is he talking about?

"Here's the deal. You get a free ride and all you have to do is follow my rules. I promise you, everything will be better. No manager, no loud sister, no bills."

You narrow your eyes, "and what do I have to do?"

"I said as much, live by my rules."

"Oh," you purse your lips.

You have this rotting feeling in your gut. He's not saying something. There's no reason for him to do this. Over one little spat on a forum.

"Is this how you save people, Cap?"

"I prefer Captain," he spreads his shoulders wide.

"Right. Captain. What if I can't live by your rules? You think I'm lazy--"

"Unmotivated. Complacent. Apathetic. Not lazy," he corrects you.

"Sure, but why... me?"

His eyes twinkle thoughtfully. They are very blue. You were so focused on yourself, you didn't notice... him. He's forged like a statue. His eyes are bright, his features made even more handsome by his beard and his grown out hair. And you are in your work uniform. A mess.

"Chance, I guess." He shrugs. "I mean, think about it, what else do you got going for you?"

You stare at the table then turn your sights through the window. You issue a soft sigh. You put your elbow on the table and he tisks. You quickly pull it back and wiggle your foot anxiously.

He's not wrong. You have absolutely nothing. You don't see yourself getting too much further than minimum wage and a shit apartment. You are being handed this, are you going to turn away what you always envied? An easy out.

"What does it... mean? What happens if I agree? What are the rules?" Your questions bubble out.

He combs his thick fingers through his hair, "the rules you'll learn. First, you're coming back to New York, so I can supervise you. Then, we start. You get into a regimen; exercise, clean eating, routine."

You flutter your lashes. This is absurd. You scoff.

"You're joking. You're mocking me. You're--" you cover your face, "I get it now. I almost fell for it."

"No," he reaches across and pulls your hands down. You flinch at the warmth of his touch, the roughness of his skin. "I'm not. Look."

He retracts his hold on you and you fold your hands over your chest. He reaches into his jacket pocket and slides out two cards. He lays down the thick paper.

"I have two return tickets. For me and you. Tomorrow at noon."

"Tomorrow-- huh?" Your eyes round.

"I'm serious. You better get serious too. You'll be twenty-four soon. Then twenty-five. It's not too far before thirty comes knocking," he taps the tickets.

You're not like him. You're not going to stay young. You're not amped up on super goo. You're only human.

"Or you can do what you always do. Nothing, then blame everyone else."

It's like a slap in the face. Shame and anger. Hurt. Doubt. He's right, it's time to grow up. This isn't an opportunity you get very often. In fact, you don't think many others have been given the same chance. For once, you won the lottery.

"I'll try it." You say.

"No try. You commit," he retorts.

"Alright, I'll... do it."

"You'll do it, Captain," he corrects you.

Your insides wriggle at that. You ignore it.

"I'll do it, Captain."

⭐

Static scratches in your ears and skull as you enter the apartment. Alone. Stunned. As if a mine exploded in your face. In a way, it sort of did. Your online griping finally caught up to you. That and your real-life failure.

Shea is in the living room. She gets up on her knees and smirks at you. "Aw, where is he?"

"Who?" You blink, not processing her question.

"Captain America, duh," she scoffs. "Come on, you really sent him away?"

"He's... busy." You go to your bedroom door and the couch lurches with her weight.

"Hey, you can't just not tell me why he showed up. You didn't say anything about knowing Steve fucking Rogers."

"I didn't?" You open your door and she follows you into your room. You face her and block her from going further. "Shea, please, I need to be alone."

"Why? You're always alone. It's why I'm so surprised you have hunky blond heroes showing up for you. Taking you out for a smoothie," she taunts.

She was listening. He was right to go somewhere else.

"It wasn't... like that. Look. I'm..." you back away and sit on the foot of your bed. You're dizzy. You really said yes. You're entirely sure to what. He kept it all a bit too vague. "I'm moving out."

"What? Why? But--"

"Yeah, er, yeah," you stutter as you build a lie in your mind, "he was here about a job. Long shot. I forgot I even applied."

"Wait? You're going to work with the Avengers? Doing what?"

You look at her, "paperwork."

"Paperwork?"

"Yeah, I guess."

"Wait. How am I supposed to find a new roommate? When are you leaving?"

You rub your cheeks and stretch them as you drag your fingers down, "tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?!" She shrieks.

"Yeah, it's... they move fast."

"All the way to New York?" She blusters.

"Please, Shea, I need time to think."

"Yeah, me too!"

"I'll figure out rent for you. I don't know," you hold your head in your hands.

"Well, you don't seem very excited," she snorts.

"Shea!" You sit up with a snarl. "Stop. Alright! I need you to get out so I can pack."

"Don't yell at me--"

"I'm not..." you lower your voice, "yelling. I'm... trying to figure this out so please. Later."

She rolls her eyes and stomps out. "Donna!" She hollers and you get up to close the door behind her.

You stomp back to your bed and take out your phone. You almost can't remember work or all the BS there. You swipe through the search results and tap on the first that isn't sponsored: National Museum, Virtual Exhibit. You're brought to a page with a familiar face. Steve, with no beard and shorter, lighter hair. The infamous war hero.

You flip through, reading about his history, chewing your thumb. You stop at the part about the serum; 'This enhancement gifted Rogers with superstrength, heightened sight and hearing, improved resilience, and quick healing, among other capabilities.'

You rock nervously. That's a bit intimidating. You're not that stupid. You know he's a strong guy, almost invincible by the news stories, but you just never paid that much attention. Never thought of it. He protects people, right? But what damage could he do if he wanted to hurt someone?

Your phone vibrates. You flinch at the sight of his name. He made you take his number before you left the shop.

'I'll pick you up at 10. Wiil need to check-in for flight early.'

You send back a thumbs up. He's quick to reply.

'Is that a yes?'

You huff.

'Yes, Captain', you key in.

[xiepheer]

Hey I was wondering if you could do how candy apple cookie\ black sapphire cookie would be around shadow milk cookie significant other

sorry if this is to much to ask for I just really like your work:(

Hi! It's okay dww I love yall anyways >:3

How Shadow Milk cookie's apprentices be around with his s/o

S/o is also pronounced as they/them! You can change the gender of the s/o (you) any gender you want!

Candy Apple cookie and Black Sapphire cookie around his s/o?

First of, Candy Apple cookie vowed to herself to be the one with Shadow Milk cookie.

Shadow Milk cookie couldn't even trust her around his s/o and has to depend on Black Sapphire Cookie to watch over his s/o incase she does something to them.

But of course, she tried everyways possible to try and get rid of them.

She tried to trick her master but she was seen as a fool and a nobody by him.

S/o always knows that Candy Apple cookie hates them for being with Shadow Milk cookie.

Candy Apple cookie would cry and whine to her master but he would just scoot away.

Candy Apple cookie wanted to destroy S/o so bad that she lured them out of his spire and dimension.

When he found out, he of course got mad and ordered Black Sapphire Cookie to retrieve S/o.

He turned Candy Apple cookie into a tarot card as punishment for luring his love out.

Candy Apple cookie HATED being in a tarot card. Being all flat and can't even move.

Yet she didn't stop the chronicles of trying to get rid of s/o.

She tried so many ways.

Yet Black Sapphire Cookie made her think twice by telling her how their master would think towards them if she lures his love away.

Black Sapphire Cookie always watch over s/o.

Making sure Candy Apple cookie wouldn't do anything to them.

Black Sapphire Cookie knew what the consequences would be if they did something to his s/o.

Yet Candy Apple cookie just don't listen.

She doesn't care.

All she cares is her master being hers.

Even though Shadow Milk cookie made it clear that he doesn't even want her.

He only sees her as a apprentice. Nothing more.

Which made her fuming even more.

"SHADOW MILK COOKIE IS MINEEEEE!!!!" she would yell everytime she gets jealous of s/o.

"Oh quit it!! Give us a break!" Black Sapphire silenced her.

Even though Black Sapphire Cookie watch over them, he would sometimes agree that they also needed a spotlight of their master's attention but doesn't intend to do things Candy Apple cookie did.

After their Master gets sealed away, they were stuck in disguises. Apple Faerie cookie (Candy Apple cookie) leads s/o away from the spire.

When Black Sapphire found out, he was livid.

Shadow Milk cookie is gonna KILL them for sure.

When Candy Apple cookie realized the consequences of her actions, she joined Black Sapphire Cookie to find s/o and bring them back.

When they retrieved them, they sighed a breath of relief.

Alas, they're not gonna die.

And since then, Candy Apple cookie decided to keep her own jealousy and thoughts to herself.

Not exactly to herself, she tell Black Sapphire Cookie.

Anyways guys! Sorry if it was short! I've been busy lately!

Anyways I hope it is for your liking and I hope you enjoyed reading this! To people who support my work, I LOVE YOU GUYS!!!

[grooveology]

hi! could you please do another hwang jun-ho smut fic? I don’t have any ideas so you can make it your own. thank you!

hwang jun-ho x fem! reader.

summary: you’re in for a surprise.

warnings: vaguely detailed nsfw towards the end. reader is lowkey batshit crazy! jun-ho is a SWITCH, submissive leaning, change my mind. he deserves be pampered. lowercase is intentional.

★࿐. hwang in-ho—better known as the front man—had the most loyal of loyalists at his feet: the pink guards, the recruiters, and you. you, the stray he pulled off the streets and turned into his most special weapon. you were his wild (killer) card. beneath that cold, sadistic black mask, there was a sliver of something softer, reserved only for you.

★࿐. which is why he chose you to watch over his little brother, hwang jun-ho. you were perfect for the job: close in age, easy on the eyes, and, most importantly you could go unnoticed. and that's exactly what he needed. he wanted reports, everything you could find out.

★࿐. at first, you thought it was stupid. pointless. the front man had shot him. that should have been the end of it. let the past die. but you knew better than to question orders.

★࿐. hwang jun-ho, wasn’t what you expected. sure, he had that same serious stare, the same sharp features that made it obvious they were related. but he was different. he was relentless, had a strong sense of justice. he was fascinating.

★࿐. following him around got boring fast. you weren’t an idiot, he was a detective, after all. (technically, was, but instincts like his didn’t just disappear.) it didn’t take long before he started to feel you. that lingering presence.

★࿐. you had to think fast. losing sight of him—even for a day—wasn't an option. jun-ho had his routines, and you had memorized them all. same small café. same order. black coffee, bitter as possible.

★࿐. so, you did what you had to do. you ‘accidentally’ bumped into him, both of your drinks spilling on the floor. for a few seconds, his stoic expression cracked.

"there’s no need to cry over spilled coffee," you spoke, glancing from the mess on the floor back up to him.

jun-ho mumbled something under his breath, exhaling sharply, clicking his tongue. "tch. great."

you studied him for a moment before offering, “let me buy you another one.” it was only fair, you were the reason he was now coffee-less.

★࿐. since that day, you had slowly but surely infiltrated into his life. you weren’t sure if he was too trusting or saw no reason to push you away, but either way, he let you stay. he still lied, of course. but jun-ho didn’t keep you at arm’s length. he let you linger, bringing you along.

★࿐. jun-ho told you he was searching for an island. for research purposes. you knew better. you knew exactly why he was looking. so, you nodded. played along. sometimes, you even pitched in, feeding him just enough false hope to keep him chasing ghosts. and every time he came back empty-handed, the exhaustion on his face was satisfying. huh, he really trusted your word.

★࿐. you would watch him, studying the way his brows furrowed in frustration, wondering what went on in that pretty little head of his. you were completely infatuated.

★࿐. he was so stubborn. righteous. you wanted to see how far he would go. how much he could take. how long until he broke. you would be there. like always. love. hate. devotion. in the end, they were all the same, weren’t they? each one demanded attention—the very thing you gave jun-ho in abundance.

★࿐. you don’t know how it happened (you do), and you don’t care. you were inside his apartment, it was raining outside, and his lips were on yours.

★࿐. jun-ho kissed like he was starving, like he had forgotten how it felt to have someone this close. he was so gentle, but so desperate. you could tell it had been a while.

★࿐. you learned quickly that he liked to make-out, to drag it out. he would pull away for a breath only to crash back into you. it was adorable. your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging, pulling, testing.

★࿐. oh. jun-ho was a whimperer. his body was tense at first, like he wasn’t used to this, being touched, being handled but he didn’t resist. if anything, he leaned into it, into you.

★࿐. you took your time with him, coaxing him out of that guarded shell, tracing your fingers over every ridge of muscle, every scar. then your fingers ghosted over that scar. the one his brother had left him.

★࿐. he tensed immediately. ah, so that still haunted him. you pressed down just a little, enough to remind him that it was real, that it had happened.

"does it still hurt?" you questioned, voice soft, almost mocking.

jun-ho didn't answer. didn’t pull away, either. good. you leaned in, lips brushing over the mark, leaving kisses along the length of it.

"poor thing," you murmured against his skin, your fingers in his hair, tugging just enough to tip his head back. "always carrying so much."

another whimper spilled out of his lips, god, he felt like a deer in headlights but it felt good.

"relax," you murmured against his skin, moving your attention to his throat, pressing slow, open-mouthed kisses. "let me take care of you."

he exhaled sharply, almost like he wanted to argue but your fingers tangled in his hair again, pulling just enough to send a quiet, sound fall from his lips. “fuck,”

it was a sweet melody in your ears, one you could get used to.

★࿐. jun-ho melted under you, all of that stubbornness faded in one sigh, one gasp at a time. he was so responsive, so eager to be good for you, even if he didn’t realize it.

"that's it," you praised. "let me have you."

★࿐. jun-ho let himself be pulled apart piece by piece, let you ruin him in the best possible way. he was so responsive, so desperate to keep your touch on him like he was afraid you’d disappear if he let go for even a second.

★࿐. you took your time, savoring him, relishing the way his body reacted, every moan, groan, whimper. he needed this. jun-ho needed you. and who were you to deny him that?

★࿐. when it was all over, when the tension had melted from his muscles and his body lay heavy beside yours, his breathing slowing, his warm figure pressing against you.

★࿐. jun-ho had fallen asleep. you watched the way his lashes fluttered slightly, the way his lips parted with every slow exhale. he looked so peaceful like this, he was yours to taint, to ruin. that’s when you realized that you were never going to let him go.

★࿐. then your phone buzzed.

★࿐. you reached for it lazily, opening the text message. “i told you to watch over him. not fuck him.”

[telephoniii]

i just got an idea but idk how to turn it into a full blown fic

Tyler the Creator’s last verse of Judge Judy as the Prefect’s fair well letter to NRC before going home?!?!?

“Sorry that I haven't been communicating much. This past year has been rough. It spreaded to my head“

After experiencing overblot after overblot, the Prefect’s mental health had taken a noticeable toll. Who used to be the cheerful, optimistic and a bit ditzy Prefect of Ramshackle had turned into a more reserved and quiet individual.

It wasn't a necessarily bad change, you needed to be somewhat reserved in order to survive at NRC. However, many of your friends couldn't help but mourn the loss of innocence.

Specifically Ace, Deuce, and Grim. The three who’s seen you from start to end.

“I knew it when we met, if you're reading, it's too late. I'm on the other side, but I just wanna say.”

You were aware of this switch in yourself. It was hard not to recognize it. Your thoughts became much less hopeful and more realistic. With those realistic thoughts came the truth.

You were never going to stay here forever. You couldn't.

Back at your home, you have so much to live for. So many friendships to amend, so many family members to look out for. No matter how much you adored NRC and the bonds you cultivated, this wasn't your world. And it would never be yours.

After Crowley had officially found you a way home, you told him that you wanted to keep it a secret. You weren't going to tell anyone that you were leaving. Not Grim. Not Tsunotarou. Nobody.

You didn't want their last memories of you to be this shadow of your former self. The corrupted Prefect. No. You wanted it to be that starry-eyed student that saw the best in them at their worst times.

And you planned on doing so through these letters. They wouldn't get it till after your leave, Crowley promised that.

“Thank you for the moments I could grab before I left. I hope you live your life, your truest self with no regrets.”

Despite your deep desire to leave, you really did cherish them and the memories you made.

You’ll miss the fancy tea parties Heartsbyul invited you to.

You’ll miss watching the Savanaclaw boys practice.

You’ll miss helping out at the Monstro Lounge with Octavinelle.

You’ll miss setting up parties at Scarabia.

You’ll miss the impromptu makeovers you’d get from Pomefiore.

You’ll miss pulling all-nighters watching anime at Ignihyde.

You’ll miss inviting the members of Diasomnia to Ramshackle.

You’ll miss Grim.

Sincerely, you hope them all the best. Especially the overblotters. You’ve seen how amazing all of them could truly be.

With all your heart, you hope they go on to live their best lives, even if you can’t be in it.

“I wasn't living right until they told me what was left. I'm wishing you the best,”

The only ‘people’ you confided in about these feelings were the Ramshackle ghosts. While Grim was out cold, you sat on the dinky couch and vented to them.

Thankfully, they understood. Some even shared a few stories of their own. Hearing the tales of their past lives and families increased that aching feeling in your chest.

That night you left, the ghost wished you the best.

‘Don’t forget the lives you’ve changed here. You’re truly incredible. Thank you.’

With a hug, you disappeared behind the mirror for good.

The next day, students from all dorms received a letter dedicated to them.

“P.S, Thank you for not judging, Judy.”

‘P.S, Thank you for welcoming me into your world, Prefect :)’

That was the last sentence of each letter.

This turned out kinda cheesy but I HOPE YOU SEE THE VISIONN. Maybe it’d be interesting to write the NRC student’s reaction to the letter or something idk. I hope you have a good day :>

[naumin]

How to format, print, and bind a zine

This is a consolidated version of previous posts on zine making, with more detail and screenshots. For a version of this post on gdocs, click here.

This is a step-by-step guide on how to use InDesign (or similar programs) to format and print a zine. This can be used for fanzines, sketchbooks, anything. It’s also only one way to do things - there are as many methods as there are zines under the sun. If you’re interested in other ways, searching for zinemaking on youtube would be a start.

If you are printing your zine, your total page count must be a multiple of 4.

Examples of multiples of 4 ✅

4, 16, 112

Not a multiple of 4 ❌

7, 99, 31

This is because our book will be made of folded A4 sheets (that’s regular printer paper). 1 folded A4 makes 2 A5 pages. Each A5 page has a front and back. Therefore each sheet of paper makes 4 pages.

How to format

Open InDesign. Go to Create New > Print. Choose A5 and tick Facing Pages. Enter your page number (this can be changed later). I’ve put 12. Hit Create.

Locate the Rectangle Frame Tool.

Draw a rectangle over your whole page, or just the part where you want your images to go.

Press Ctrl+D and insert the image you want on that page.

That’s it! Repeat on every page and you’ll have a book. Promise.

Further reading

I need a free alternative to InDesign.

InDesign is free for the savvy but I also recommend Scribus which is free and open source and very lightweight. The method is exactly the same but the Rectangle Frame Tool is called Image Frame and the Ctrl+D shortcut will now be Right click > Get Image instead.

I need help with designing my A5 pages.

For my first sketchbook zines, I arranged several images on an A5 canvas in a program like CSP or Procreate and exported them as a JPG into InDesign or Scribus. You can do this if your images aren’t already A5 size or you don’t want to waste time with InDesign’s formatting tools.

I need to get fancier with it, format text, or export my file as small as possible.

Here are the InDesign tutorials I used and liked:

How to Add Page Numbers

How to keep Page Numbers on Top

How to Create a Table of Contents

What is Overset Text and How to Fix It <- essential for formatting text onto multiple pages

How to Reduce InDesign File Sizes

Formatting best practices

Remember that in addition to your front and back cover you also have an inside front and inside back cover. You can leave these blank or create an endpaper with a pattern or include a short message or something. Look inside any books or zines on your shelf for inspiration. Or don’t listen to me and put your first drawing or poem there. Just be aware printer paper is thin so you might be able to see it through the cover.

Avoid putting anything important in the gutter (inside edge) or outside edges of the page. Also be careful of creating double page spreads that go across the centre of the book. Because of how we will print and fold the pages, each half of your spread might not meet up perfectly. 

How to print it out

Open your completed book’s PDF file in Acrobat Reader (free download: https://get.adobe.com/reader/)

Print with the following settings: Booklet, and Booklet subset: Both sides. 

We can see a preview of our print-out on the window on the right. The pages will look jumbled up, but form the book in order when folded.

Congratulations! Now you’ll have a stack of paper. Once it’s folded it should resemble your (unbound) final book. Use a bulldog clip or similar to keep your pages together neatly.

How to bind (2 methods)

If your book is less than 30 pages, I recommend using a long arm stapler, or a stapler that can open to lay flat. They are cheap.

There are also special book binding staplers or heavy duty staplers, if your book is thicker than 30 pages. Just position your book so the staples are in the middle of the spine (or as close as you can get) and send it. They will be a little wonky… that’s fine.

You can also separate your book into staple-able segments and then join them into 1 big book with tape or thread.

For my 112-page zine, I used thread to bind it.

These instructions are copied from the video ‘How to Print & Bind a Zine’ by LFONinja.

You can watch it here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zKYy6G7lIy8

You will need: Ruler, awl, thread, sewing needle

Make 5 holes in the crease of the pages like so. (½ page, then ½ of that, then ½ of that again)

If the paper is thick, be careful when making the holes. It helps to have a piece of blu tack, putty, or soft eraser underneath the spine of the book as you work for the point of the awl to push into.

I don’t recommend separating the papers into smaller stacks as your measurements will likely vary and the holes won’t align.

Use a needle and thread to go through the holes in the following pattern. At the end, tie a knot with the ends of the thread (1 and 9) in the centre of the book. You’re now done.

About page creep

Because we are using folded pages inserted into each other, they push each other out like so:

From: https://www.greenerprinter.com/ support/page-creep/

You can use a heavy duty or industrial paper cutter/trimmer to remove this edge. This is why we kept any important contents away from the edge of the page during formatting, because we don’t want this process to destroy our book’s contents.

About image edges

Because of how the printer works, the images in the book don’t extend all the way to the very edges of the paper and have a thin white border on all sides. It’s possible to crop these edges from your book with a heavy duty paper cutter. Be careful and start small (3mm or less). Depending on how much your pages move during the printing process, the size of the white edge can be different on different pages. Or you can just leave them in.

To read some of the zines featured in this post, check out naumin.itch.io.

[bitchface24-7]

HELLO POOKIE WOOKIE SMOOKIE 💕💕

I love your Viktor x reader fics so much, like genuinely you write him so in character it has me giggling and kicking my feet. This is like a weirdly obscure req but it’s been clawing away at my brain

I saw one fanart of an arcane x starwars AU and I LOST MY FUCKING MIND. Hear me out, evil sith Viktor being manipulated by Silco is a plotline I didn’t know I needed in my life…

I’m so open to hear any of your thoughts or takes on him, just general headcannons or a full fic if you so desire. But I have an idea for Viktor x Jedi! Reader OR assassin! Reader

It could either be that reader is a hired gun for the sith that he specifically employed to be a rat for the rebellion. (What if their double crossing him behind his back and feeding him false information that soils his plans??? Or plotting a mutiny???? AUGH)

Also another idea is friends(lovers?) to enemies to lovers, maybe they knew eachother when they where foundlings and when Viktor went to the dark side they separated, do what you will with that plotline.

Either way I think having a very smart/clever morally grey reader would be such a delicious dynamic.

Sorry I wrote you a whole novel, anyways I love your writing peace out girly 🤞🤞🤞

YOUR FALLEN ANGEL - VIKTOR X READER

synopsis: you and Viktor have been as thick as thieves for as long as you can remember, metaphorically and literally. After being saved from the slave trade on Tatooine from two Jedi masters who felt incredible amounts of midichlorians in both of your blood. They train you in the ways of the force. But Viktor has always been passionate, and that became his downfall.

warnings: general descriptions of violence, the darker side of the Jedi’s mentioned, manipulation, desperation, morally grey reader, I'm low-key ripping off episodes I-III in this, Grammarly as my beta ADDITION: tried my best at GN smut, y'all are virgins so… it’s vanilla, oral (m and reader receiving), talks of fantasies, unsafe sex, creampie

genre: m/f or m/m

p.s. I love Star Wars. I've loved this franchise ever since I was little, the last of the series (EP VII-IX) wasn't the best. They had good ideas but executed them poorly imo. Hopefully y'all like my little twist to it. Essentially I've stolen bits and pieces of Anakin x Padme for this to work.

Going from slaves to padawans was a massive shift in your life. You never thought you'd end up here, free.

Well, as free as can be as a Jedi in training. You remember reciting the code as a young child,

“There is no emotion, there is peace. There is no ignorance, there is knowledge. There is no passion, there is serenity. There is no chaos, there is harmony.”

You can understand the code— to a certain extent. Humans are not meant to be emotionless, it's physically impossible. Unlike our droid friends, we are unable to turn off our emotions. They’re with us from the day we’re born, and they’ll be with us till the day we die.

Viktor has always pushed the boundaries. His master, Obi-Wan Kenobi tries his best to negate him; very rarely does he succeed. Your own master, Mace Windu isn’t the biggest fan of your oldest and closest friend. You ignore him. Same with the other members of the Jedi Order.

Too passionate is what everyone says. Every so often Master Yoda will take you off to the side and regale the Sith Code like a mantra in his odd speaking habits. As if he’s trying to convince you— warn you about something that’ll never happen.

“Peace is a lie, there is only passion. Through passion, I gain strength. Through strength, I gain power. Through power, I gain victory. Through victory, my chains are broken. The Force shall free me.”

Both creeds have their upsides and downsides. Their truths and incomprehensible impossibilities. But as the days go on, as you mature from Padawan to full fledge Jedi, you see a shift in Viktor.

It's so small it's barely even noticeable, but you know him better than you know yourself. And he's started changing ever since that slimy councillor has been around him.

Councillor Silco.

You're not a fan of any of the councillors, but Councillor Silco is the worst of the bunch. Full of lies and deceit. You can taste it whenever he gets too close. His predecessor Councillor Palpatine is even more horrendous.

You're not sure as to why Viktor can't.

It isn't until they've sunk their claws fully into Viktor do you see the truth.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

You're not sure what happened. One second your Master is fighting Councillor Silco, the next Viktor has taken you down, a nasty slash on your waist, your Master is dead, and Viktor is helping the man who killed him.

A crack forms in your heart at the betrayal. You want to scream, cry, and sob inconsolably at the pain you're feeling. But there's not just pain there, there is also anger.

Hatred.

You look up at the duo and grit your teeth, your jaw painfully clenched. That's when Councillor Silco desperately reaches for his neck as he sputters.

He's choking on nothing, and you're the cause of it.

After a moment, he's let go. You feel a bit of horrified justification at your actions. He’s killed your Master, manipulated your friend, and taken what you hold most dear.

You don't feel sorry.

And that’s what scares you.

Viktor looks shocked, his eyes wide as he stares at you. Councillor Silco is trying to catch his breath, but he looks immensely satisfied.

“Looks like there is still hope for you yet.”

And with that, the two men leave; and one of them takes your heart with him.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

You rush to Obi-Wan and Yoda to tell them what has transpired. The death of Mace, the betrayal and secret mole in Councillor Silco, and the manipulation Viktor has been put under.

The two men look warily at one another at the last point. Your frustration boils over at their secrecy.

“What?!” You question. Your tone is sharp, angry. The two Master’s look to you in shock. You've never raised your voice, not since you became a student here at the temple. Yet here you are, your emotions guiding your actions.

The way of the Sith.

Yoda hums and Obi-Wan placates you, “My dear, you must control yourself. We’ve already lost one bright soul— we’d be crushed to lose another.”

And in that moment it hits you. They’re not going to save Viktor— they’re not even going to try! He’s already deemed a lost cause, a failure to the order. Not to you. Never to you.

You two promised you’d escape Tatooine and live long, happy lives together. You’re already halfway there.

You just need to save Viktor from himself.

And kill the people responsible for corrupting him.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

After that, you resign from the Order. They’re shocked, expectedly so. You and Viktor were their strongest Padawan, now their strongest Jedi. They’ve lost one to the dark.

They lost the other to their negligence.

Obi-Wan, Yoda, and the rest of the Jedi Council try their best to dissuade you. None of them succeed.

You know that they will control your actions as long as you are within their walls. So you leave, and you leave behind your green lightsaber.

You feel as if you’ve outgrown this one. Another kyber crystal is calling for you, you can feel it.

With that, you leave the one place you felt like was yours. All in the name of love.

You truly are a horrible Jedi.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

It takes weeks of excavation, but you eventually find the crystal that’s been singing your name, calling for you, and begging you for a chance.

It’s beautiful.

Even more beautiful than your previous crystal. You’ve collected all the required components to re-build your saber, now you just need to actually build the damn thing.

You place all the pieces down and mediate. Letting the force run through you like a calm river, you subconsciously feel your saber being made. When you open your eyes, you hold back a soft gasp.

It’s wonderful. A beautiful steel handle with fine markings and it’s perfectly balanced. You ignite the saber and try not to cry. It’s purple.

Just like your Master’s.

With your resolved hardened and new saber in hand, you continue on your self-imposed quest to save Viktor.

And save him you will.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

It was shockingly easy to find them. After months of tracking, tracing, and pulling every move of stealth you know, you've finally done it.

You asked around, used some mind-tricks on unwilling citizens, and interrogated others in a way that’d make the Jedi ashamed of you.

Good thing you’re no Jedi.

Viktor and Silco are in the councillors building, in Silco’s private room. You casually make your way there, your black cloak billowing ominously.

Before anything else can happen, you slam the door open with the force and ignite your lightsaber.

Someone is going to die today, and it isn’t you.

The two men look shocked at your arrival. Instead of dawning your usual white and beige outfit, a green saber in hand, you wear more dark colours. Black, brown, and hints of beige encapsulate your figure, a purple saber replacing your old one.

There’s an angry look in your eye that the two men only saw once, and it almost caused Silco’s death.

Seems like you’re back to finish the job.

Before you can swing at Silco, Viktor protects him. His yellow saber gone. In place is now a red one.

You want to cry. His old saber matched his eyes perfectly. You always mentioned it every time you two trained together. Now it’s gone. He’s changed just as much as you have.

The fight is intense, brutal in all honesty. The sweet face Viktor used to have is gone. Now it’s even more sharp, and his eyes have an orange— almost red tint to them. The pure gold now gone as well.

The eyes of a Sith.

You slash each other, block, dodge, kick, scream, taunt. A violent dance of passion and contempt, with hints of underlying tension.

Lust.

The Jedi Masters were always worried the two of you would pursue a relationship, even though those temptations were strictly forbidden.

But who doesn't crave forbidden fruit?

Now, you both are free of said rules. It's just you two, in a world unfamiliar to you.

Your lightsabers are clashed together. Purple sparking off of red, as you two sneer at one another.

Viktor's canines are sharp as he scowls at you. It reminds you of a fearsome feline. His eyes are narrowed and he pushes against you relentlessly.

You're no better. You can feel your lips pulled back against your teeth as you snarl deep in your chest. The muscles in your neck pulsing as you fight back against the man you love.

A small twirl disengages your clash and you slam Viktor into the wall with the force, pining him down.

You turn your attention to Silco, who's just been sitting there enjoying the two of you trashing his office. You take your free hand not holding your lightsaber and cup it in the air, imitating a choke hold.

Silco goes flying into the air and stills, choking in place viciously. You can hear Viktor yelling at you but it's muffled. All you see is the man who took your best friend from you, and you're getting your vengeance.

You squeeze harder and Silco slams into your waiting palm, a slightly scared look on his face. You look deep into his eyes and enter his mind without consent.

Flashes of memories assault you. Plans, manipulations, grooming, betrayal. One conversation piques your interest. The grandest plan Councillor Silco and Palpatine have.

They call it Order 66.

You feel like vomiting. You hold in all your disgust and revulsion as you pull away from Silco’s mind— ensuring you have all the information you need to prove both of the councillor's guilt.

A glare is all Silco gets before his neck snaps like a twig in your grasp. Viktor’s shout of shock returns you back to your senses, and you drop Silco's body like a rag doll.

Viktor is still pinned to the wall, but he's no longer fighting it. He sits still, stunned. His mouth is lightly agape as he looks at you, his eyes wide and dark. There's a bulge in his pants.

You quirk an eyebrow and Viktor looks away in shame. But he's still that defiant boy you grew up with, and quickly whips his head back to look at you.

“Why did you kill him?! The Jedi are horrible, I just wanted to protect you— why did you kill him?!” His voice gets louder with each sentence, his accent sharp and his tone desperate.

The force hold on him disappears and Viktor slumps against the wall, defeated. You sit next to him.

“Because he lied and manipulated you. He took you from me. The Jedi weren't going to help you, so I did it myself.”

Viktor looks shocked, the orangey-red tint slowly dissipating in his eyes, their original golden hue shining through, “You— what? You went against the Jedi?”

A scoff escapes you against your will, “I left the Jedi Order.”

“When?!”

“The day you left.”

The silence between you is deafening. Viktor looks shocked, a violent blush is seen across his cheekbones and ears. He swallows deeply before asking, “That... That was months ago! Why?!”

You shrug, “Because you left. The Jedi weren't going to help, and I've always known they weren't the best. Taking children away from their families when they're babies, indoctrinating them into the Order, their silly rules. The Sith aren't any better either.”

Viktor now looks curious, he gazes at you deeply and you feel like coughing. He's always been so… incredibly handsome. Now, with his full focus on you, you can't help but recognize that.

“So I've come up with my own code.”

The man next to you smiles, a chuckle leaving his throat, it’s one of the sexiest things you've ever heard, “Tell me? You always used to complain about the code when we were Padawans. I had to make you stop talking so many times before a Master heard you.”

You sigh contently and rest your head in Viktor’s shoulder, the black leather of his outfit cooling your heated cheek,

“There must be both dark and light. I will do what I must to keep the balance, as the balance is what holds all life. There is no good without evil, but evil must not be allowed to flourish. There is passion, yet peace; serenity, yet emotion; chaos, yet order. I am a wielder of the flame; a champion of balance. I am a guardian of life. I am a Gray Jedi.”

Viktor looks at you and huffs, “A Grey Jedi? Really?”

You snort at his tone and lightly hit his chest, “I came up with the concept like a week ago, leave me alone.” The two of you laugh before a peaceful, comfortable silence envelops you two. You enjoy it immensely before ruining it, “Why did you leave?”

The shoulder you're leaning on stiffens, and for a second you think Viktor isn't going to answer, but he does, “I already told you, I just wanted to protect you. I was getting horrible nightmares— Visions about your death. I couldn't handle it. Silco told me he knew a way to prevent it, and I accepted whole heartedly. Without thinking of the consequences.”

You hum, “It was a trick you know? Silco and Palpatine placed those images in your head using the force. They wanted a strong Sith Lord, powerful in the force, to mock the downfall of the Jedi Order.”

“The downfall—?”

“Palpatine put chips in the clone’s heads, with a special order called “Order 66”, it’s meant to overtake the clone's will and eradicate any Jedi in the clone's path. Doesn't matter if they're a Master, a Padawan, or a Youngling.”

Viktor’s sharp inhale is all you need to know. He didn't know.

“And— and there's proof?”

You nod, slowly getting up and going over to Silco’s desk, inputting the password, and taking all the necessary documents and voice pads.

“We’ll anonymously submit these findings to the Council and the Jedi Order. They can deal with all this shit. They can help the clones. I’m done.”

Viktor slowly gets up as well and walks over to you, “And, what will we be doing?”

You surge forward kissing Viktor passionately. The beautiful man gasps, and you use that to your advantage to add tongue to the kiss.

You may not have much physical experience, but you do have experience in reading dirty novels and touching yourself secretly.

The kiss eventually breaks and Viktor looks shocked and pleased, “We’re going to Naboo, and you're going to fuck me. I've always wanted to go there and I've always wanted you.”

VIktor chokes as you take his hand, step over Silco’s body, and exit the office.

He never expected this. But he’s not complaining.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

There's an uproar at the Council and the Jedi Order. Palpatine is charged and executed for crimes against the Council and the Order. The Clones are healed and clear of any signs of the chip's potential betrayal.

The two of you don't know this though. You're too busy at Naboo, finally getting what you've always wanted.

Each other.

Your kisses are sloppy, passionate, and desperate. All of the emotions bottled up from your time at the Jedi Order overflowing and finally seeing the light of day.

Your garbs are removed quickly, the tunics, the pants, the tops, the boots. All that's left are your undergarments. You push Viktor onto the bed, and slowly crawl your way up towards him. His large bulge taunting you.

A small nod is all you get before your fingers hook into Viktor's undergarments and his cock springs free. Hard, leaking, and beautiful. Just like him.

You wrap your hand around the shaft and Viktor hisses in pleasure, his eyes half-lidded as he looks down at you. His face is flushed, his lips are plump and red, and his long hair is a mess. Pieces of brown and blond hair stick to his forehead, and fan across his shoulder wonderfully. God. You could stare at him all day.

"Y'know..." You start slyly, your hand slowly pumping up and down. You remove your hand and lightly spit into it before pumping him again, the slide much smoother this time, "I would fantasize about this."

The groan that escapes Viktor is animalistic. Needy. He bites his lower lip as his lower abdomen clenches in excitement, "Really? Oh do continue."

You hum sarcastically, "Yup. I'd sneak in dirty books from the market and read them late into the night. I'd picture I was the main character and that you were the love interest. I'd touch myself almost every night to the filthy words on the page. Imagining it was you and me."

The tip of Viktor's cock enters your mouth and his back bows at the intense feeling. Your confession, the warmth of your mouth, the glint in your eyes. Viktor isn't sure he can survive this.

His hands fly to grasp your hair desperately as he gasps in pleasure. Moans and whimpers escape him-- alongside chopped up variations of your name.

This goes on for several minutes before the pitch in Viktor's voice heightens, and he's trying to pull your lips off his cock, "I'm going to cum! Wait! Not yet! Not until you--" A low groan escapes him when you shove your head down to the base of his cock, his brown curls tickling your nose. He cums straight down your throat.

He whimpers as you slowly pull off his cock, a self satisfied smirk on your lips. Viktor just lays there, panting.

"You asshole. I wanted to cum with you. Now I can't."

You can't help but giggle at Viktor's petulant tone, you crawl up his body kissing a trail as you go before plopping a sweet kiss on his plump lips, "You still can. Don't tell me you won't get hard again fingering me open to stuff me full of your cock?"

Viktor's eyes widen at your crude language before laughing himself, "Wow. You truly weren't lying about those filthy books." You take your undergarments off and Viktor just looks in awe at you. You're so gorgeous, he's the luckiest man in the galaxy.

He takes his time with you. Sucking hickey's into your neck, abusing your chest, appreciating your abdomen and waist, squeezing your hips and ass. He eventually makes his way to your hole, and he licks it. You buck up in shock and gasp. The feeling electric. He continues to lick, exploring as much as he can. Your moans get breathier and breathier at the assault, until the pulls away.

"Give me the lube on the side table."

You follow his order without question. Viktor pops open the cap and puts some lube on his fingers, before going back to eating you out. He slowly puts a finger inside as he continues to lick at you. This feels amazing, it's better than all your dirty books and fantasies combined.

Eventually three fingers are pumping in and out of you as you whine for something bigger.

And something bigger you get.

He's stretching you, filling you up to the brim. Even with all the preparation, all the lube, it still wasn't enough. Then Viktor pumps his hips, and it's game over.

All you can do is moan as Viktor's massive cock hits all your sensitive spots. The two of you engage in a passionate kiss as you moan into each other's mouths. You rub your sensitive bundle in tune with Viktor's thrusts, and before you know it. You're cumming.

All his foreplay really paid off. All you can see are stars clouding your vision as you enter nirvana. Viktor continues to pump his hips, desperate for his second orgasm. In a few minutes, he get's his release, and cums deep inside you.

He plops down, laying on top of you as he pants in exertion. You run one hand through his long hair as the other trails random shapes on his back. His cock shrinks a bit, maybe an inch or two and it pops out of your hole, his creampie following suit.

The two of you lay in bliss. You never though you'd get here, the Jedi forbidding it and the Sith manipulating your lovers mind.

But you're here now, and that's all that matters. The two of yo share one final kiss before sleep overtakes you. You're in each others arms, stuck together like glue. As it should be.

As it will be until the end of time.

Before the two of you fully fall asleep, you both say the three words you’ve always wanted to hear from one another ever since you were young.

“I love you.”

Y'all I don't know what happened. I saw this request, blacked out, and this is the result. If you see any grammar or spelling mistakes, no you didn't and blame Grammarly. Idk if this is the vibe you're doing for dear requester bur tbus is what my mind came up with. Xoxo hope ya enjoyed it! ❤️

[ftmtftm]

I understand this is a hyperbolic radfem argument with no real legitimacy because said radfem in question hasn't actually thought about what she's saying beyond trying to craft a debate bro level conservative rage bait straw man — HOWEVER I'm an autistic little freak with a special interest in rhetoric as well as in moral and ethical philosophy, so let's take a look at the rhetoric and moral / ethical standards actually shown here.

First, let's just restate what Leslie Feinberg said so it's fresh in our minds.

"I believe that people who don't identify as transsexual also have a right to hormones and surgery. There are many of us who have wanted to shape our bodies without changing our sex."

When Feinberg mentions "want[ing] to shape our bodies without changing our sex" it is very clear that zie is discussing bodily autonomy, specifically as it relates to body modification.

To desire to shape one's own body is to desire to modify it autonomously.

HRT and surgery are, ultimately, body modifications. If you truly believe in informed consent and ownership of one's own bodily / bodily autonomy, then in many ways HRT and surgery are no different from any other body modification or plastic surgery on an functional level. They are procedures made with informed consent to alter one's body for any number of reasons, with generally overwhelmingly positive outcomes.

So to respond to that with:

"yes i believe everyone should have access to everything."

in order to craft a straw man argument shows such an interesting and hyperbolic leap in rhetorical logic being made.

"okay so i am not in pain therefore i shouldnt get all the oxycontin i want???

Now, I won't derail this with too long of a tangent about harm reduction and the ethics of safe and informed drug use, because that is deserving of its own post, but I do want to highlight the unspoken, pejorative comparison being made here between those seeking body modifications and those who use drugs recreationally.

The choice to use Oxycontin — a brand name for oxycodone, an opioid known for it's addictive properties and recreational usage — is a strong one. It tells me both that our radfem here doesn't have the strongest moral or ethical compass when it comes to the subject of addicts/addiction and harm reduction AND that she doesn't know the difference between an addictive substance and hormones, nor what they actually do to the body.

The reason why it tells me that, is because the implied framework here is irrationality. The false line of logic here functions as follows:

It is irrational to freely seek Oxy when one is not in pain, presumably for its addictive, recreational usage -> Addicts are irrational -> Oxy and hormones are both medical substances used for medical treatment -> Anyone who would seek HRT freely, regardless of transsexuality, is irrational like an addict.

Now, hormone replacement therapy is a non-addictive treatment whose effects on the body effectively replicate puberty as well as its known, well documented, lifelong effects (also known as "common adulthood medical risks associated with a testosterone or estrogen based endocrine system").

Medically speaking, HRT and oxycodone are used to treat very different things in very different contexts and are generally sought out by patients for very different reasons. When discussing the ethics of bodily autonomy, there is actually a good faith conversation to be had surrounding addiction — especially one that humanizes addicts and emphasizes harm reduction — but that's not what is happening here.

wtf. okay because im not diabetic i dont "deserve" insulin?"

Again, the implication here is irrationality. I truly don't think I need to linger on this one much. I'm sure there is someone out there in the world using insulin recreationally, but that's genuinely not of concern here.

The point of it's inclusion is to further establish that our straw man is detached from reality. It is truly on par with conservative rage bait rhetoric in a way that just makes me sad for our radfem. It's giving "paint any good faith attempt at accepting others as entitled on prime time Fox News, brought to you by Tucker Carlson".

"umm excuse you. i should be able to fuck up my body in every way possible with all the hormones and medication possible and if even one person tries to keep me from doing so for "ethical reasons" or some "hippocratic oath" they should be fired"

The implication here is, again, irrationality — hysteria even.

Under this framework - our straw man here wants to fuck up and ruin their body with drugs like an addict and thinks that anyone who tries to stop them out of concern or duty should be removed from their positions as medical professionals.

It is being argued that, if someone is allowed to choose to go on HRT or obtain surgery when they don't identify as transsexual, then there is a moral and ethical harm being caused to that person because they must be irrational and therefore absolutely can't actually make an informed decision about their body.

Ultimately this straw man argument is structurally no different from homophobic "Gay people? What's next, people fucking their dogs and children?" rhetoric.

You take something that is said in good faith like:

"people should be allowed to marry and/or have sex with whoever they want of any gender"

or

"people should be allowed to make informed decisions regarding how they modify their bodies"

and then you twist it into the most bad faith, irrational framework that you possibly can.

Generally this is done by comparing the action in question to another morally "undesirable" action. In the '00's it was pedophilia and beastiality, in this instance it's addiction and unreality. Mental illness and hysteria is also implied in both.

None of it is sound logically, ethically, or morally as it is literally based in morally motivated self righteousness, fear based disgust, and willing ignorance. Generally speaking some kind of insecurity as well.

Ethically speaking, if you don't like something that someone else is doing within their own life in a way that is otherwise in good faith and consensual to all the people who immediately matter and it also doesn't actually have any direct impact on your life besides the fact that you're made uncomfortable or are disgusted by it? Truly one of the most ethically sound things to do is say "not my problem" and move on. Lest you become Jesus in the myth of consent meme or start sounding like a right wing talking head.

Way ahead of hir time. Hopefully, one day, everyone will have full autonomy over their bodies, making arguments restricting hormones a thing of the past. Get your copy here.

[itsnesss]

Hi ! So i just want to say i absolutly adore all of your Jun-ho fics !

Can you do a Jun-ho x female reader fic where she is a player and he noticed her while infiltring because of her kindness. Like, she is supporting Han Mi-Neyo, is always trying to be kind ect ?

Sorry if it's strange, have a great day/night !

𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐫𝐝'𝐬 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬 | hwang jun-ho × fem!reader

summary | the request

warnings | violence, death, psychological distress, trauma, tense or suspenseful scenes, emotional manipulation, romantic tension under high-stakes conditions

word count | 1.07 k

author's note | it would help me a lot if you liked, commented and reposted so that more people read what I write and don't forget to follow me, thanks ᡣ𐭩

The cold of the facility seeps through your green tracksuit, but you ignore it. It’s not the worst thing you’ve felt since arriving in this hell. Hunger, despair, and fear are constant companions. Still, you force yourself to keep your head high.

You refuse to become just another person who pushes, betrays, and tramples others for an extra second of life.

That’s why, when you see Han Mi-Nyeo sitting in a corner, trembling with rage and helplessness after being rejected by a group, you don’t hesitate.

"Here," you whisper, extending a piece of bread you saved from the last meal.

She looks up, distrustful. Her eyes analyze your every move, expecting a trap, expecting you to be like everyone else.

"Why are you helping me?" she asks warily, though her hand clutches the bread as if afraid you’ll change your mind.

"Because you might need it later," you reply simply.

Mi-Nyeo says nothing. She just lowers her gaze, biting into the bread cautiously, as if she doesn’t remember the last time someone did something for her without expecting anything in return.

This isn’t the first time you’ve acted this way. Since the first day, you tried to do the right thing in a place where there’s no room for kindness. You gave your sweater to a shivering woman on the first night. You helped an old man up when everyone ignored him. You shared food with a man on the brink of collapse.

You don’t expect anyone to do the same for you.

And yet, someone is watching you.

Hidden behind a black mask and a number that camouflages him among the others, Hwang Jun-ho has been watching you since he infiltrated this place. He was looking for his brother. He had no time for anything else.

But then, he saw you.

In a sea of despair, you are a point of light.

He shouldn’t care. He shouldn’t look at you longer than necessary. But every time you step forward to help someone, his gaze follows you, unwillingly.

Every time you risk yourself for someone else, a knot forms in his throat.

Because in this game, kindness is a death sentence.

The first time his instincts tell him to act is during the night of the massacre.

When the lights flicker and players attack each other, Jun-ho remains still. He knows he can’t interfere. If he does, he’ll be exposed.

But then, he sees you.

You’re hiding behind one of the beds, not out of fear but to protect one of the weakest women in the group. Your body shields hers as you whisper that everything will be okay, even though you both know it’s a lie.

A man approaches with a pipe in his hand, his intentions clear. And Jun-ho feels his heart stop.

Before you can react, the sound of a gunshot echoes through the room.

The other players shrink back, the chaos halts for a second.

"Enough!" a guard orders, his gun smoking.

It’s a coincidence. A stroke of luck. But you don’t see it that way.

You lift your gaze, and in the shadows, you see him.

One of the masked men, standing a few meters away, his posture rigid. You can’t see his face, but you know it’s him.

Because this isn’t the first time you’ve felt his eyes on you.

And though logic tells you all the guards are the same, something in your chest tells you this one isn’t like the others.

You don’t know his name. You don’t know who he is beneath the mask.

But somehow, you know he cares.

And in this hell, that’s enough.

Days pass, the deaths pile up.

Jun-ho tells himself he must focus on his mission. Find his brother, escape, expose everything.

But every time he sees you, he hesitates.

Especially when you stagger back after the glass bridge game.

Your leg is wounded, your pants soaked in blood. You can barely walk, but you force yourself to keep going.

No one will stop for you. No one will risk helping someone else when survival is all that matters.

A guard approaches, ready to drag you away like a broken object. And before Jun-ho can stop himself, his lips have already spoken the words:

"Leave her."

The guard pauses, surprised.

So do you.

You lift your gaze, and there he is, in the black mask, with that presence you recognize even without ever having seen his face.

"Wants her to continue," he adds, his voice firm.

It’s a calculated lie. One that could cost him his life if questioned.

But no one does.

They let you go.

And that night, as you try to tend to your wounds with trembling hands, you hear a faint sound behind you.

"Why are you helping me?" you whisper, without turning around.

A long silence.

Then, a response, so low you almost don’t hear it.

"Because you don’t belong here."

He closes the door before you can reply.

But your hands no longer tremble.

The night before the final game, you wake with a jolt.

You don’t know why, but you feel someone is there.

And when your eyes adjust to the darkness, you see him.

He’s not wearing the mask.

Your heart races. It’s the first time you see his face.

And it’s the first time he allows himself to look at you without barriers.

Hwang Jun-ho.

His expression is serious, but his eyes say what his lips cannot.

"Tomorrow…" he starts, but stops.

There’s nothing he can tell you that you don’t already know.

If you win, maybe you live.

If you lose, it’s all over.

And he, who came here seeking answers, who never intended to get involved, now finds himself with a problem he can’t escape.

Because he wants to save you.

But he doesn’t know how.

You look at him, unflinching.

"You don’t have to do this," you whisper.

He lets out a dry, humorless laugh.

"I know."

But he’s here.

And when he steps forward, when his hand slides over yours, when his lips find yours in a desperate kiss, you know it’s the first and last time he will.

Because in this game, love has no place.

But, for tonight, you allow it.

Because even if dawn brings death, even if the end is inevitable…

Here, in the darkness, it’s just you and him.

No masks. No fear.

Only a whisper before everything disappears.

"Survive."

[codenamethebird]

Honestly, I'm kind of hoping we see Melinoe's relationships fall apart a bit. The Warsong update has given us some new dialouge that's quite interesting in this regard.

We actually have Melinoe questioning things a little bit, mostly in regards to Prometheus having a point. But the moment she admits this to Hecate, she gets swiftly shut down. Hecate tells herself to not even consider it and stay true to her beliefs. Which under different circumstances would be a pep talk, but considering the context of, 'are the gods wrong in their treatment of humanity', has kind of sinister implications.

Like don't get me wrong I don't think Hecate is some secret supervillian, but she's a Titan who is part of the order of the gods. When Mel asks her why she helped Athena punish Arachne, she doesn't really apologize and basically says Arachne deserved it. For all Hecate loves Melinoe, she raised her as living weapon (which oof when Ares calls Mel that, ahhhh). She can't have her weapon against Chronos having doubts about their mission. She can't risk the weapon turning against herself.

In a similar but different path, Odysseus has some new dialogue where he's acting funny and seeming to question things. And when Mel asks him about the whole the whole god mortal thing, he blatantly avoids the question like an extreme sport. It actually made me crack up how blatant he was. And when Mel presses him, he says a very non committal 'both gods and mortals are complicated", which says nothing and everything lol. The conversation ends with him promising that he would tell her if he thought she and Hecate were doing the wrong thing.

Which if we take him at his word, still is sooooo vague. He could very much be in my opinion that Chronos is bad and needs to be defeated, but also the gods suck and he's not lying to Mel.

There's also the other option that he's just lying lol. He is Odysseus. But even beyond that, his boss and literal titan is like 20 feet away. Said Titan, who I mentioned above, shuts down any bit of doubt in Mel. He's just a shade, he has very valid reasons to keep his mouth shut.

But yes, back to my first point of this post, Melinoe's relationships possibly falling apart. In a reversal of Zag's quest bringing him closer to his companions, Mels feels doomed to tear them apart.

The mortal (ish in some cases) characters in this story as possibly being dragged towards Prometheus and his ideology. Arachne and Heracles already have issues with the gods, [Pan]Dora was screwed over by them too + her connection to Prometheus, Odysseus seems to have his doubts, and even Icarus has some dialouge of him expressing confusion at Prometheus being their enemy.

On the other end, it looks like Mel is headed in a direction of also doubting her belief in the gods, which will put her in conflict with them and their allies. I don't know what Hecate will do if Melinoe tries to work with Prometheus.

But yeah, I think it would be very fun to have Melinoe's relationships start falling apart as she grows and changes throughout the story. Lots of angst potential, of course, but interesting story developments as well.

Also in a way to make this sort of plot work within the context of how Hades 2 is played, and a different fun reversal of Hades 1, Melinoe can start keeping secrets from the people in the crossroads. Like how Zag lied to the Olympians about why he was doing his runs (especially in the epilouge), Melinoe might have to start lying to Hecate/Moros/Nemesis/etc about the exact purpose of her runs.

But yeah that might me getting a little too crazy with plot ideas haha.

[astnmartn]

it’s you she’s thinking of (2/?)

pairing: severus snape x fem!reader

summary: reader is friends with the marauders, but after standing up for severus snape, james and sirius ignore them. reader struggles faintly with guilt but knows they did the right thing and try’s to make amends with severus.

notes: 1.5k words! I’m sorry this took so long. I’m an insane procrastinator so I sincerely apologize! (also the formatting is so wonky tumblr is being stupid.) Severus is so cute I can’t!!! he’s so ooc it’s amazing. I’m inlove. :P let me know what you think and enjoy!

Today is the day you told yourself. Today is the day you confront James and Sirius and solve what’s going on between the three of you and be friends again. Like it used to be. Lying in bed and staring at the ceiling would not get you anywhere, so you got up and changed into your robes.

It was a gloomy Saturday morning; you thought as you looked out the window next to your bed. You hoped it wasn’t a bad omen. It is still early in the morning, so you don't expect anyone to be up yet; you hear voices in the common room. Stepping outside the girl’s room, you step back in immediately. You spot James and Sirius making conversation on one of the many couches. The floor creaks underneath you, and they turn toward the sound, going quiet.

“Hey, you two.” You speak, giving them a small wave. “Hey y/n. Just the person we wanted to see.” Sirius smiles. James sighs beside him. “Come. Sit. James has something he needs to tell you.” James shakes his head as Sirius beckons you over to the couch next to them. You walk over to the armchair and sit with your palms sweating. ��Okay. What is it?” “C'mon, James, tell her.” Sirius pleads. James shakes his head, slumping further into the couch. Sirius scratches the back of his neck, something you came to learn he does when he's uncomfortable.

“It’s alright if you’re not ready to talk to me, James. I just want to say this. I don’t regret what I did. Not one bit. If doing the right thing by helping Severus from being tormented by you ruins our friendship, then so be it.” You let out. A part of you hurts having said those words. After all, they had been your best friends since the second year.

James and Sirius say nothing. James is avoiding eye contact, and Sirius looks as if he has something to say. “I’m going to go now. Bye.” You look back once and Sirius stands up, but James pushes him back down. “Don’t.” James stands up. “Filthy half bloods have to stick together, after all, don't they?” James snickers.

Reaching for the door handle, you stop. You felt your stomach drop and your eyes prickle with tears. “Y/n…” Sirius breathes. You open the door and take off. You don’t witness Sirius stand and push James onto the couch, scolding him.

The same James who swore he didn’t care about blood status. Who swore he wasn’t like all the other pure bloods in the school, and the same James who in 2nd year picked you up when you fell in mud in front of the entire school. James and his friends, who helped you get cleaned up and defended you from the students teasing you.

You were inseparable, and now it didn’t seem like you could ever be again.

_

You run as fast as you can down the moving staircases, hoping no one will see you with tears rolling down your face.

You push past the mob of students trying to enter the great hall, in order to leave the castle. At the same time looking down at your feet trying to avoid the stares of those passing by, you don’t see Remus and Peter in front of you. You bump into both of them.

“Hey, hey, where are you off to?” Remus asks you, looking worried. When you don’t answer, he lifts your face to look at him. You don’t protest. “Are you okay? What happened? Was it James?” He questions you frantically. Peter looks at you apologetically.

“I’m fine.” You say, wiping your face of tears more threatening to spill. You try to smile to show them you're okay, but you fail. “I’m just going to go, okay? I’ll see you two later.” You walk further from them and Remus is about to go after you, but Peter holds him back.

“She needs to be alone. She’ll tell us when she’s ready. Just relax.” Peter looks at Remus. He looks like he could bite. Remus nods.

_

You leave through the back doors and go downhill towards the ground keeper's hut. All sense of direction has left your mind, only being able to think about how badly James had hurt you. That being said, you walked so far you hadn’t noticed you’d stumbled into the forbidden forest. Only realizing when you heard someone calling your name.

You wiped your tears to clear your blurry vision. Looking around, you can only make out a tall figure dressed in black. You sniffle as they call out your name again. “Y/n? What are you doing out here?” You recognize that voice.

“Oh Severus. I didn't know you were down here. I'm sorry, I'm going to go.” You whisper and turn to leave.

“No, stay.” He responds. He comes up to you and study’s your expression. “You’ve been crying. Why?” He demanded softly. You’re quite surprised by his demeanor. “It’s nothing, really.” You said sniffling. “It's not nothing if you've come down here crying.” he adds a supportive hand to your shoulder. He looks at you with kind eyes, a rare sight. He's willing to listen.

He nods his head toward a black blanket laying on the ground. “Come, sit.” He invites you. You nod and follow behind him, watching the wind run through his long black hair, a mesmerizing sight. The blanket lays below a large tree, with the leaves changing colors. Severus sits first, next to a small pile of books and a few pieces of buttered bread from breakfast.

You sit next to him, although you can feel sticks and rocks under you, it is quite comfortable “Is where you hang out?” You ask, turning to face him. He’s already looking at you. “Yes, it is. It’s especially beautiful at this hour.” He says. You look around and it’s true. The fresh smell of the outdoors, specifically after rainfall, the light sun peeking through the trees, and the trees getting absorbed by the fog, do look especially beautiful today.

You silently agree with him as he continues to look at you. You avoid his eyes, pretending his piercing gaze isn’t making you flush. “So, now, do you want to tell me what made you come down here in the first place?” You look down, biting your lip nervously, the memory of James making you feel uneasy. “It’s just James. He said something awful about you and me. Something I would have never expected him to say.” Oh. Severus furrows his brows in confusion. He knows James would of course be cruel to him, but to you?

“I'm sorry about that.” He says softly. “What did he say? If you don’t mind, of course.” You look at him with a pained expression, he almost regrets asking. You go on, “He said, filthy half bloods should stick together. He didn’t even look like he regretted saying it.” your lip trembles. You wipe the tears before they fall. “The worst part is that I’ll probably forgive him.” You say, hiding your face behind your shaky hands.

“But you shouldn’t.” Severus removes your hands from your face, looking you in the eyes. “He doesn’t deserve you or your forgiveness.”

You’re not sure what led you to hug him, but you don’t regret it. You pull him into your arms and hold him tightly. He jumps slightly, surprised, but he settles. You can tell he isn’t used to it. He melts into your touch, tentatively hugging you back.

_

After your eventful morning and a semi delightful breakfast period with Severus, you finished your classes along with the rest of the day, and it was time for dinner. Remus and Peter had already gone down to secure a suitable spot on the table (Remus' idea, of course) in order for you to not have to sit close to James or Sirius.

You still hadn’t told him the reason you were so upset, but he knew the look of guilt on James’ face wasn’t just a coincidence. Still, Remus did not confront him, as it wasn’t his place and he knew better than to get involved when it was clearly personal.

As you enter the great hall, your eyes dart toward the Slytherin table. Severus' eyes are already on you. You shoot him a quick smile, one which he returns. You head to your table and sit across from Peter and Remus with a happy sigh. Looking at Remus and Peter in front of you, they give you odd looks. Remus eyebrow is raised and Peter looks a bit taken aback.

“What was that?” Remus starts, “What was what?” You said, trying to stop a smile from creeping onto your face. “You know exactly what I’m talking about, we both saw it! Didn’t we Peter?” Remus has a smile that reaches his eyes and is trying to hold in a sweet laugh. Peter nods in agreement.

“It’s nothing.” You say finally, smiling sheepishly.

_

taglist: @blueberrysquire , @sadeyes61 , @bookworm8161 , @tellybearryyyy

[thebibliosphere]

So, full disclosure. They were actually very up front with me as a former employee, probably more so than they would be with someone they hadn’t worked with before.

But the phrasing I got was along the lines of, “we love this, but we would like to make a few adjustments to make this better fit within house style and to appeal to a broader market.”

And then they proceeded to say that after multiple readings and perspectives they “saw what I was trying to do with Nathan, but worried it just wouldn’t work for a broader market.”

When I asked for clarification I was told he “lacked conflict over his status as a person with disabilities” and that readers would perceive his acceptance of his limitations as having given up, which is a depressing narrative.

When I continued to press for examples of what they meant my former colleague got snippy with me and told me “you know what we mean” and wouldn’t elaborate further to which I replied, “oh, you want him to hate himself or be more inspirational like his disability doesn’t affect him.”

At which point my former colleague brightened and said, “yeah! Exactly! We need to give the reader something to relate to.”

Then told me all the ways we could make him “relatable.”

We then proceeded to go through the rest of their desired changes to “improve the conflict and payoff of the narrative” with me continuing to play clueless whenever they wouldn’t straight up say what they meant.

By that time my former colleague was really irate with me and said, “look, you’ve worked the industry. You know what sells. You’re not giving yourself a chance. This is a lot of money we’re offering you for something that honestly, is a big risk even with all the changes.”

And that’s when I thanked them for their time, declined the offer and put my time and energy into self-pub and made almost 10x what they offered me at debut and got to keep creative control and distribution of my work so, thank you, Tumblr, for proving them wrong.

It was still one of the surrealist moments of my life watching y’all freeze my Amazon sales rankings because they rose so quickly at pre-order launch Amazon thought it was a bot raid 😅

I know trad-pub's gotten a little more liberal with regards to fandom over the last few years (they had to because of all the stellar authors who came up through fandom to become professionally published), but I still have plenty of trad-pub friends who were told to disengage with fandom entirely because it was seen as too risky.

And, like, can you imagine if I'd been desperate enough and sold Phangs to my old publisher, made all the (catastrophic) changes they wanted, and then they told me I couldn't engage in fandom anymore?

Like sorry, but there's no off-switch for this brain. If I don't get to say the random shit that comes into my brain whenever I feel like it, I will go insane, and that is a threat. All this energy has to go somewhere.

You try existing in a brain that comes up with Bruce Wayne being in a power throuple with Miss Piggy and Kermit the Frog and keeping it to yourself.