#i'm really really good at that it's a problem

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

big question. i'm cis (afab) and my gf is trans (amab) and i'm sorta having a hard time reconciling something. i've been a hard line feminist since i was about 8, by 12 i was a practical library on everything and anything womens lib. i'm spending a lot more time around trans people especially my gf now and i'm sorta struggling to reconcile the trans experience with my feminism. like- i'll see trans women being like "i hate my body :(" "my voice is awful" "i need [x thing to try to pass] ugh" and like my first thought is always "NO! THATS HOW THEY FUCKING GET YOU!!! THE PATRIARCHY WANTS YOU TO HATE YOURSELF SO YOU ENSLAVE YOURSELF TO CAPITALISM AND LIVE IN A CONSTANT STATE OF NEED FOR NEW PRODUCTS TO WARD OFF THE EVER PRESENT SELF HATRED BROUGHT ON YOU BY SOCIETY" and they go "well then how do i pass/transition?" and i honestly don't know and i also don't know how far it goes before its no longer dysphoria but instead the intentional subjugation of women by patriarchy for profit. i wanna help my fellow ladies but i honestly don't know how to like- apply the feminism i was taught as a child to trans women and i want to learn as soon as possible so that i can start doing it like yesterday

hi there,

I'll be honest: if it feels hard to apply the feminism you learned as a kid to your trans friends, that's probably because the feminism you were taught didn't have trans woman in mind.

luckily, the answer to this is something that I consider to be feminism 101: what a woman does with her body is, ultimately, her fucking business.

listen: I agree with you that the beauty industry(TM) is evil. it's misogynistic, it's exploitative, it thrives by making women feel bad enough about themselves to make them spend money on shit they don't need, etc. we all know this.

now, having said that: women who like makeup or wear heels or get laser hair removal or whatever other asinine thing are not my oppressor, nor are they my enemy. dare I say, we have bigger problems.

we also need to consider that many trans women are coming to these choices from a VERY different place than many cis women are. while I think my fellow cis women really benefit from reminders that they're allowed to stop shaving or wearing eyeliner or dieting or whatever, that's because most of us have had those actions forced on us from very young ages and may genuinely need a hand to feel secure breaking out of those behaviors.

the majority of trans women are not coming from a background where they were encouraged to partake in the same personal grooming habits and modes of presentation as cis women; many of them have, in fact, been ostracized, bullied, threatened, and otherwise hurt because of forays into forms of presentation that are considered feminine. no matter how good your intentions may be, approaching your advice indelicately can, unfortunately, make you come across as no different than any transphobe on the street trying to enforce cisnormative societal expectations. it also must be said that, for many trans women, the ability to "pass" is a matter of security - for having their status as women recognized at all, and to avoid harassment and abuse in public spaces. if you live in America, like I do, politicians in power currently have an extremely explicit anti-trans agenda that can make it harrowing to be visible as a trans person, and trans women in particular are frequently targeted for violence.

there are absolutely critiques to be made the way the many trans women are expected to perform hyperfemininity. the notion that someone is duty bound to drastically change their appearance in order to transition at all is itself extremely rooted in cisnormativity, and "passing" is often contingent on being young, thin, able-bodied, reasonably wealthy, and hewing as closely to Eurocentric standards of beauty as possible. that's not awesome! but that's also not the fault of any individual; no trans person asked to be born into a world where gender norms are so narrow and failing to pass can come with a very real risk of physical danger.

also, if I can circle back to this: again, women who participate in aspects of the beauty industry are not our enemies. there are always going to be some number of women who enjoy doing their makeup or like spending time fussing over their little outfits or want breast implants or whatever. some of those women are going to be trans. my official feminist stance on this is that I don't give a shit, because I believe in bodily autonomy even when it involves things I would not do personally and the choices that individual women make about how they want to style their little meat body don't even crack the top 100 things that I'm worried about right now. it's actually kind of vitally important, politically, that trans people be able to safely pursue their preferred gender expression; while it's not particularly revolutionary for a cis woman to go outside all dolled up, whether a trans woman can do that safely is a pretty basic litmus test for how safe a given space is for queer people. it's a ridiculously low bar, and many places will still fail to clear it.

so, yeah, I don't know, dude. be there to talk to your trans girlies if they want to start unpacking some of the pressure they feel to conform to a very rigid idea of womanhood, but whether or not they can walk down the street in your neighborhood safely is a WAY bigger issue than whether they decide to do voice training or not.

if you really want to cut to the root of the insecurity and vulnerability that the beauty industry thrives on exploiting, your time is much better spent working to ensure the trans women in your life feel safe and supported and have a community where they can find support regardless of how they look.

necessary disclaimer I'm a cis girl, any transfemme folks please share your voice here and feel free to clap my ass if I've said something out of line.

[sunvylovebug]

A bath together

↬Warnings: There are mentions of nudity but this is NOT NSFW, Y/N is a killer, mentions of murdering …⁠ᘛ⁠⁐̤⁠ᕐ⁠ᐷ

↬ Gender Neutral!Reader, they/them pronouns and third person narration (⁠*⁠˘⁠︶⁠˘⁠*⁠)⁠.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡

↬Author Note: He's such a green flag, such a sweet boy, I want to give Me. Crawling a big hug. Btw finally posting something that has warnings lmao.

↬Summary: Y/N teaching Mr. Crawling about something basic in the daily routine; a warm bath.

↬ Word Count: 1,435 Words

Masterlist

"Mr. Crawling please. I promise you it'll be fun! Fun? You like fun?"

Y/N's question was answered with a vigorous shake of the head. "No... Me no like. No like there. Not going."

"Please? Would you do it for me?" Of course they were gonna try to convince him that way, Mr. Crawling couldn't say no to that look after all.

It's been some days since they left that mysterious world. They went back to their usual activities like going to school and killing people, just the usual stuff for a human their age, right? They have been teaching Mr. Crawling about the human world and the routines that generally develop over time, a very important part of the daily routine is cleaning the body but Mr. Crawling was so hesitant to enter the tub, it was filled with warm water and soap, of course it looked comfy but then why was he acting that way?

Mr. Crawling stood firm in his decision. "Not going."

They sighed. "Would you enter if we did it together? Would you agree that way? You, me, together?"

He smiled and nodded, so he was throwing that whole tantrum so he could be with them. They weren't surprised really, he was a clingy being.

They took off their clothes with some hesitation, how would Mr. Crawling react? Would it be a good reaction? Now they were the one hesitating. And he noticed. "You okay?"

"I'm okay, it's just..." They shook their head. "Nothing."

Once the two were without clothes they shivered a little. "I already took a shower today, taking a bath is not necessary for me..." Y/N said to themselves as they stepped into the tub. "Your turn. Come here"

This time Mr. Crawling stepped into the tub without protest, a happy smile on his face. After feeling the temperature, he giggled, he looked happy. "Fun fun." He said, splashing a little of water.

"See? Told you it was fun... But you usually take a shower first, then get in the tub to relax, you know? The problem is that my shower is too small for someone so tall like you... I mean, this tub is also pretty small but I guess it works, not that bad hopefully. I hope you'll enjoy it." Indeed, it wasn't that big of a bathtub so they were pretty close, his cold back pressing against their chest.

He was happily listening to their yapping, not understanding a lot of course, but Mr. Crawling just liked the way they voice sounds when they're speaking to him, it was a sound that made him feel nice and warm inside.

"I'm gonna wash your hair, okay?" Y/N grabbed the bottle of shampoo, Mr. Crawling didn't understand what they meant with that but he was happy to let them take care of him. It made him feel special.

They started to gently massage his scalp, Mr. Crawling tried to eat the foam and bubbles that the shampoo produced but after they told him it wasn't food he felt somewhat disappointed, it smelled so good, how is it not something he cannot eat? "No food?"

"No, it's not food. It doesn't taste as good as it smells."

Mr. Crawling didn't get what Y/N said but he understood that he can't eat that and he was a well behaved boy so he didn't try to eat it again.

They spent a lot of time just washing his hair, making sure the tips and roots were clean, his hair got dirty when he crawled around and they wanted to take care of it for him. "Your hair is so pretty." They whisper softly.

He giggles. "Me pretty?"

"Your hair. Your hair pretty. But you're right Mr. Crawling, you pretty too."

He smiled and giggled, wanting to hug and headpat them but not being able cause of their position, Instead, he just rubbed his head happily against her neck. They took care of cleaning his body as much as possible while teaching him the basics of how to do it himself as well. He was very cheerful, as usual, always giggling and smiling, enjoying the experience, the attention he received and the gentle touches, the nice words and all the spoiling and pampering they gave him. They made him happy.

They started talking after starting to scrub his legs. "Next time I'll try to kill someone with money... Maybe we could put soft carpet on the floors or something... Your knees get bruised cause of your crawling and... I'm sure you don't feel it that much and you heal pretty fast... but I don't like seeing you like that." They gently kisses his temple, Mr. Crawling smiled and giggled happily.

Mr. Crawling He was having the best day of his life, the warmth of the water, Y/N's body heat, the pleasant aromas of the soaps and shampoo, listening to them humming while they took care of him... It was perfect.

But eventually the water turned cold and soon they got out of the tub, they wrapped a towel around their body to help Mr. Crawling dry himself with another towel. He liked that, it was soft and it smelled good. Everything in that room smelled good, it was different from what he was used to in his world.

"So? Did you liked it?" Y/N asked.

"Yes. Me like this." He nodded his head, smiled happily. "Me like you."

"Thank you. I like you too"

It was time for a new lesson; getting dressed. Mr. Crawling wasn't used to clothes and how humans dress, so they got him a new robe and some underwear. He protested a little at first, something so restrictive felt weird at first but once he got used to it he even liked it. His new robe looked a lot like the old one he had, that made him happy cause he really liked that robe.

"Me pretty, me pretty." He repeated over and over again when he saw himself in the mirror.

"Yes, you're pretty. Very very pretty."

He loved their praises, now that they were dressed and out of the tub he could hug them and give them the headpats he wanted. That made them happy too. He was so clingy. It was new to have someone so in awe of even the smallest detail about them, Mr. Crawling was a faithful devotee and Y/N a deity that he would worship for life.

"Let's dry your hair okay? We're done here."

They went back to the room, having Mr. Crawling sitting down on the edge of the bed, they were behind him, dryer in hand ready to take care of that beautiful and silky hair that Mr. Crawling had.

"This is a little loud but it's okay. It won't hurt." They wanted to make sure Mr. Crawling wouldn't freak out cause of the noise the air dryer made. He nodded and Y/N started doing their thing. The hot air felt nice, it took a good amount of time to dry all of his hair but they did it happily, Mr. Crawling felt excited and that was enough of a reason to do it.

"I'm done, what do you think?"

Mr. Crawling grabbed the air dryer and held it in front of his face, the air was moving his hair back, making him giggle. "Fun fun! Me like fun!"

"I know you like fun." They looked at him tenderly, Mr. Crawling was easy to impress, even the smallest detail could make him very excited, it was refreshing to have him by their side. "You know, I wanna braid your hair... Want me to show you something? You'll look pretty, I promise."

He tilted his head to the side but nodded gently, giving them the hair dryer back. They braided his hair gently, once it was done they made him look at the mirror.

They smiled, he was so excited. "You look pretty."

"Me pretty!" He looks at them with a big smile. "Me pretty... Thank you..."

They looked at the clock, it was almost midnight. "I should sleep now, it's getting late."

Mr. Crawling nodded, understanding their need of rest. They lay down together in bed after turning off the lights. He was hugging Y/N as if they were a delicate piece of art made of glass, something he had to protect. "You pretty... Thank you." He said against their neck.

"This could be a part of our routine... I like it, I wanna do it again."

"Again?" He asks happily.

"Yes. Not now! But tomorrow... Again"

He giggles. "Again! Again! Tomorrow again!"

They kiss his forehead. "It's time to sleep for now, okay? Goodnight Mr. Crawling."

"Night night... Pretty."

[everyonewooeverywhere]

NSFW | MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED

summary: you can't fail this class or you won't graduate on time, and you'll embarrass your parents. you could go to the tutor that your school so graciously provides...or you could just fuck your prefessor

pairing: professor!yunho x female student!reader

genre: smut | non-idol au | university au

rating: 18+

word count: 3.3k

content/warnings: female reader, pet names (sweetheart, baby, sweet thing), sir/professor kink, unprotected sex, squirting, spitting (spit swallowing), infidelity, age gap (mc is in her early twenties, yunho's in his early 40s), dubcon (coercion), spanking, light bondage, breeding kink, copious amounts of dirty talk

notes: this got out of hand really fast... (and i didn't edit it at all)

"professor—" you gasped, fingers digging in to his linen suit.

his office was dark. the only light coming from the green desk lamp situated behind you. it was well past office hours, but you didn’t see yourself leaving this spot anytime soon.

you’d come to his office after receiving a notification that you were failing his class, a class you needed to pass in order to graduate on time. and you’d been studying so hard and working so late to try and get your grade up but nothing was working.

and when you walking into his office he smiled softly at you, "what seems to be the problem miss l/n?"

a few tears fell from your eyes as you explained to him that you can’t fail this class because then you’d have to take another semester, and you were mortified at the idea of disappointing your parents who were expecting you to start working at their company in a few months.

he looked at you with concern deep in his gaze, "oh sweetheart, why didn't you come to me sooner?" he looked up at you from his desk chair and gestured for you to stand in front of him. "i hate to see one of my favorite students struggle." he reached out for your hand and you slid it into his with little hesitation.

"one of your favorites?" you asked, flattered by the idea that he enjoyed you in his class so much.

he smiled, "of course, sweetheart." his thumb brushed over the tops of your knuckles, "i'd be stupid not to cherish such a bright and beautiful young woman in my class."

the tips of your ears flushed at his flattery, "thank you professor jeong."

"i'm always here to help if you need it," and when he stood up out of his chair he loomed over you. his closeness making you take a step back. your thighs consequentially pressing up against the back of his desk. your hand still in his as he brought it up to his mouth. kissing the backs of your fingers to your palm to your wrist. closing his eyes and taking a deep breath amidst every kiss. "you are so beautiful miss l/n."

"y/n. you can call me y/n." you whispered.

he raised an eyebrow at you. "yeah?" he took another step toward you, making have to grab his arms not to fall backward onto his desk. he leaned his face down to your ear, his breathe soft on your neck, "you seemed to like when i called you 'sweetheart' though."

"professor—"

his lips grazed your ear, "call me 'sir.' you can do that for me, right?"

you nodded, eyes welling up with tears at the anticipation, "yes sir."

a low growl rose out of his chest from you compliance, "god you're so perfect." he pulled back and looked you in the eyes again resting his forehead on yours. his hands started tracing the edge of your skirt, letting his fingers graze your upper thigh, "just a good girl who will do anything to impress her professor and get a good grade, right?"

you averted his gaze, suddenly ashamed about what you were doing here.

"oh sweetheart don't be embarrassed. you're just putting in the effort that your other classmates won't. you came to me for extra help, and i'm gonna give it to you, okay?"

"okay..."

you let yourself melt into the touch of his hands. the soft pads of his fingers caressing your inner thigh. he watched your face intently as you took in his little touches. how you clearly waited in anticipation for him to finally brush his fingers over your pretty lace panties.

he pinched the white frills of your underwear between his fingers. “we’re all alone here sweetheart,” he ran a finger under your jaw, “so you can be as loud as you want. i want to know what feels good.”

“yes sir.”

he leaned back from you for just a moment. hooking a finger under his black tie and pulling it loose. you bit your lip as you watched him unbutton the top few buttons of his shirt and roll his sleeves up around his forearms.

when he leaned back in, he pressed his forehead to yours. "fuck i wonder what you taste like," his hand cupped the fabric over your already dripping pussy, and you rolled your hips to grind against it. "i bet you taste like fucking heaven. what if i just..." he pulled your panties aside, running his middle and ring fingers through your folds. he hummed in delight, "oh you feel so perfect, sweetheart." he kissed your cheek, "i can't wait to sink my cock into this perfect pussy."

a pathetic moan rose out of your throat, "please—"

he smiled softly and let his lips brush over yours. the tips of his fingers pressing into your soft cunt. "oh you sweet thing," he finally lifted you up onto his desk, letting your skirt rise up on your thighs, "be patient, and your professor will give you just what you need baby."

he pulled his fingers out of your pussy and brought them up to his lips. looking deep into your eyes as his licked your wetness off of them a string of his saliva sticking to the tips when he pulled them out. "oh i was so right. you taste like heaven sweetheart." he pressed a long kiss to your lips. letting his tongue pass over yours so you could taste yourself on his mouth, "you taste like you were made for me."

he eyed the white button-down you had tucked into your little skirt. his fingers delicately popped open the buttons. unwrapping you like his perfect, pliant little toy. his hands brushed over your shoulders as he slid the shirt off your skins. he pulled it out of your waistband and tossed it behind him.

"you're so fucking beautiful," he cupped your breasts. that were still partially covered by the white sheer lace of your bra. his thumbs lightly circled your nipples that were fully visible through the mesh. you watched as his tongue came out and licked his lips. like he was on the edge of eating a meal he'd been waiting on a long time.

"you dressed up for me today, didn't you?"

you nodded, biting your lip to try and hold yourself together, "do you like it, professor? i picked it out just for you."

"oh you're just the sweetest thing aren't you?" his hand slid around to your back, "it's so beautiful but i think—" he pinched the clasp and let in come undone and fall into your lap, "i like you much better without it."

the cold air of his office caressed your chest, making your nipples harden. you shivered at the sudden feeling.

he placed his hands on your knees, "play with them for me, sweetheart."

the request threw you off guard, your eyebrows scrunched in confusion, "huh?"

"play with your tits for me. i wanna see how you touch yourself," he leaned in close to you, "do this for me, and i reward you, okay sweetheart?'

"yes, sir," and you hesitantly cupped them in your hands. massaging them as he watched your chest intently.

"that's it. roll your nipples for me," his hands slid up your thighs. your back arched into him as you pinched your sensitive nipples between your fingers. you let out a soft moan. "good girl." he hooked his fingers into the waistband of you panties, "lets get these off of you."

and you lifted your hips so he could slide them down your legs. he slid them into his back pocket, and you didn't even try to stop him.

you reached for the button on your skirt, but he grabbed your hand, "keep the skirt on for me, baby. it looks so cute on you."

he flipped it up, though, and revealed your desperate pussy dripping all over his desk.

finally pulling his tie over his head, he let his shirt hang halfway open. "give me your hands, sweetheart."

you looked at him confused, but obeyed nonetheless, giving into his every demand with blind compliance. he slipped your wrists through the loop in his tie and tightened it, wrapping it a couple times into an inescapable knot. "perfect." he breathed. taking in the sight of his favorite student tied up and naked on his desk, just shaking with the anticipation of him actually fucking her. "my pretty plaything..." he muttered to himself.

his hand slipped between your legs, letting his fingers tease at your folds. playfully spreading them and letting the cold air hit your sensitive pussy. you shivered at the contact, "please professor..." looking up at him desperately, "i need you."

"oh, you sweet thing," he playfully pouted at you, "you've been so patient, haven't you?"

you nodded, resisting your urge to grab his wrist and grind into his hand. he positioned his ring and middle fingers at your entrance, "well let me reward you, sweetheart."

and he slipped his two fingers inside you so gently. letting your warmth surround them. slowly pumping them in and out of your prefect pussy. he found it endearing how you struggled to find a spot for your hands. your hands flexed and twitched trying to resist the urge to reach for him. he was going to tell you to hold onto his dress shirt, but he much preferred watching you struggle to hold yourself together.

he finally got a soft moan out of you when he pressed his thumb into your clit. rubbing slow circles on it and watching as your back arched into him. he kept a steady pace with his fingers, not letting himself lose control to his own desire. but he couldn't help but let his pointer finger slip inside.

you sucked in a sharp breath, "ohhh..." one of your legs wrapped around his waist. tears pricked at the corners of your eyes.

"how does that feel, baby?" he muttered against your ear. his breath on your neck making you shiver.

"it hurts.." he sunk all three fingers inside and curled them, "sir!" you gasped.

"shhhh..." he ran his other hand over your hair, "just breathe, sweetheart. breathe. i got you." he kissed your temple, "your professor's gonna take such good car of you, okay? i'm not gonna stop until your little pussy is squirting all over my desk." you moaned loudly at the thought, "oh? you like that? you're dirtier than i thought, baby. have you thought about this?" he loved how you trembled under his touch, "do you have dirty thoughts about your professor during class? maybe that's why you're failing. because you can't stop imagining me bending you over my lap in the middle of my lectures."

you tightened around his fingers at the idea. imagining laying over his knee with your skirt flipped up as he spanks you like the little slut you are and fingers you until you can't even thing straight. "well, we'll have to try that sometime, won't we? want me to fuck you in the lecture hall? where all your classmates and instructors can hear just how pretty you moan."

he smiles at the little nod you give him, but he notices how little you're comprehending his words. "you close, sweetheart?" you just hum in acknowledgment. "hmm, what about now?" he curls his fingers and pressed them directly into your g-spot. pumping in and out making sure to hit it every time with his fingertips.

"oh...oh!" you throw your head back, "i'm gonna cum! oh fuck.."

"cum for me pretty girl. make a mess baby. all over my desk."

your tied hands gripped onto his dress shirt, the pleasure from his fingers making you lightheaded. you let out the prettiest moan as your orgasm hit your. pleasure wracking through your body as he continued to fuck you with his hand. hitting your g-spot over and over again. determined to make you squirt all over his desk.

he dragged his fingers over the spot one last time before you felt it. your orgasm washing over you in messy spurts as you came all over his hand. you juices spilling all over his desk. he chuckled as he kept his fingers inside you. letting your pussy pulse around them. his lips graced your hairline, "i knew you could do it, sweetheart. you listen so well. what did i do to deserve such a perfect toy?"

"thank you, sir," you looked up at him, your pride obvious in your eyes. oh that little praise kink of yours made his life so fucking easy.

"of course my sweet thing," he brushed a thumb over your cheek. "you think you can take more? i think you would look so pretty on my cock."

"please, sir..." you leaned into his hand, "i'll be good. i promise."

his hand slid down to your neck, "oh i know you will." you watched as his tongue slid out of his mouth and wet his lips, "you'll do anything for that passing grade, won't you? even let your professor fuck you in his office after hours. that's a little pathetic don't you think?" he smiled as your expression changed into one of shame. "couldn't get anything into this dumb little brain of yours, so you had to come visit me in this slutty little outfit and just beg me to fix your grade? yeah?"

the fingers on your neck squeezed lightly, "i can imagine how mortified your parents would be if they knew how their perfect little angel got her good grades. just whoring herself to a professor twice her age. because she's not smart. she's just a dumb little whore who lets her pussy solve all of her problems."

tears pricked at your eyes, "i tried professor jeong! i did! i just—" you choked on a sob, "i just couldn't get anything. i'm a good student i promise! and i study hard."

he hummed, "like you did in professor park's class?'

your breathing stopped, "wha—"

"oh baby," he kissed the tip of your nose with a touch of his own condesending sweetness, "i know i'm not special. you should know that mr. park and i are really good friends. and when i told him that you were failing my class, he let me in on your little secret."

"professor please," a tear fell down your cheek, mortified that he was telling you this.

"my sweet thing...messing around with older bachelors is one thing," he swiped at your tears with his thumb, "but i can only imagine how mr. park's wife would feel."

you choked on a soft sob, trying desperately to hold it together, "oh god, please don't tell her. i didn—" you shook your head, "it was just a one time thing. and i really needed to pass his class."

"hmmm i'm sure you did, sweetheart." he leaned in and let his tongue wipe up a tear on your cheek, "and don't worry, i won't tell anyone. it'll be our little secret, okay?"

you nodded hesitantly, "thank you professor jeong."

"of course. but i do ask for something in return," he threaded his fingers through your hair, "you're such a sweet, submissive little thing. i don't think i can let you go so easily. i'm gonna need a couple more..." he looked you up and down hungrily, "favors from you."

"favors?"

"mhm..." he tightened his hold on your hair, "favors." he yanked your head back, "i wanna see how far i can go until i break you."

you whimpered.

"i know that you're a filthy whore deep down, baby. you just haven't found the right guy to try and slap you around a little bit." he forced your mouth open with his free hand, "you're gonna take ever little thing i give you." a wad of spit fell from his mouth and onto your tongue. you fought the urge to swallow it, waiting on his command. he smirked at how easily compliant you were. "swallow."

you let his saliva trail down your throat.

finally, you watched as he unbuckled his belt. instead of letting it drop he set it on the desk next to you before unlooping the button on his pant and letting them fall to the floor. he grabbed your tied wrists and pulled you off of his desk. "turn around."

you obeyed without hesitation, turning toward his desk. he pressed his hand to your back and pushed your chest down onto the desk. you heard him shuffle out of his boxers before grabbing the belt next to you.

you heard the leather snap against itself. "we're gonna play a little game, okay?"

"yes, sir," you nodded with your face pressed into the desk.

"good girl," he trailed the belt along your spine and you shivered. "we're gonna play a little game. i'm gonna fuck you on my cock. and i'm not gonna hold back. but you aren't allowed to cum until..." he snapped the belt against your ass. you yelped in pain, your hips jerking forward in surprise, "you count thirty spankings."

"thirty!?" the belt made contact with your ass once again.

"yes, baby. thirty. and if you can't do it, then your gonna have to go home and cum all alone in your bed. because i'm not gonna give you anything you don't deserve."

his cock slid through your folds, and he ran the tip along your clit. delighting in how you shuddered under him. you gasped when he finally sunk into you. filling you up in ways that you weren't sure were even possible. "perfect little pussy," muttered to himself.

he pulled out and thrust into you, hard. his tip smashing into your cervix. but you couldn't even catch a breath because he immediately brought the belt down onto your ass.

"one!" you choked out. followed by a "two! three!' and the leather snapped against your skin again.

"good job, baby. you're doing so perfect."

you whined, "thank you, sir."

"four!" you felt the sting again. this time much harder than the last. and five, six, seven, and eight felt like they were burning into your skin.

he already had you sobbing into the wood. after nine and ten, he let your skin breathe, but he continued to fuck your pussy relentlessly. and you could already feel your orgasm creeping up on you.

the next spank surprised you, "eleven..." you sobbed into the desk. and he kept going, keeping his relentless pace on both fronts. surely bruising your ass and your cervix.

by the time he hit twenty-five you were desperately trying not to cum. your legs were useless, no longer holding you up at all. and your ass was going numb.

"you're so close, sweetheart. count five more for me, and i'll let you cum so hard, okay." he kissed the nape of your neck.

before bringing the belt down again two more consecutive times, and you counted between sobs. and you were already tightening around him, on the verge of your release.

and maybe he was feeling gracious, because the last three strikes were much softer and his thrusts started becoming much more erratic. "fuck! i'm close baby." he grunted in your ear.

he pressed his chest into your back, the buttons of the dress shirt he still wore digging into your back, "oh god i'm gonna fill you up so good. gonna breed this dumb little pussy so you know it's all mine."

"all yours," you cried, "it's all yours." your whole body shook under him, "oh i'm coming! shitttt sir i'm coming."

"yeah, baby," he growled, "cum with me. cum around my cock while i breed you so good. ahh shit! yeah there we go baby. there we go..."

his cum filled you up as you came together. seeping out of your pretty little hole when he pulled out to admire his handy work, your pulsing cunt pushing his cum out in little spurts.

he kissed your shoulder and leaned into your ear, feeling you breathing heavy under him, "we are gonna have so much fun together, sweetheart, just you wait."

general taglist: @swimmingkpopblog @oddracha @drinkingrumandcocacola @minaateez @funnyvxlentine

@sunnysidesins @skzdust @princelingperfect

ateez taglist: @certifiedmoa @wooyoungmybelovedhusband @curiousgworge @hyukssunflower @hotteokisms

@sushiinmidnight @atiny-dime-p1ece @mismatchfluffysocks @vic0921 @vampzity

@breadpuddingboys @woolysium @desirehorizon @im-ovulation @pommelex

@dancingwithdeities @maidens-world @jycas @kirbrary @aftertherain-atr

@staytinyinmybpack @m4n4-s4m4 @jjcanwrite @yvnhoos @uninterested-ghost

@yizhou-time @shinyj3lly @kyeos4ng @prettygirlslietoo @miriamxsworld

@tiny2018 @ttdogsworld @kejingken @fandom-freak-geek @painted-hills

[suiana]

Make yandere femboy pls nya (⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠)

Pweaseeeeeee

yandere! femboy roommate who has a massive crush on you but you don't seem to understand.

"hey i really REALLY would like to eat something, YOU preferrably."

"yeah I'm cooking us dinner just wait dawg"

he doesn't know whether you're playing it safe or just stupid. this guy is pretty sure his signals are straightforward and direct after all.

"do you want to go out to the park together?"

"lol as friends right?"

like??? he's pretty sure he's not speaking another language. do you not get it? are you dumb? or... are you intentionally ignoring the signs? after all... you are also talking to other people. you can't possibly not know that he's trying to get your heart.

"where are you going?"

"on a date, see ya."

oh that won't do. what do you mean you're seeing other people? people that aren't him? how could you do this? he's your roommate! he lives with you and clearly knows you better than any of these other shitheads! so why aren't you choosing him?!

no, he'll make you see that you need him just as much as he needs you. no one can love you like he can. i mean, who was the person who took care of you when you were sick? who was the one you came crying to after you saw a video of a baby panda falling down? who was the one you went to for all your problems?

it was him.

him.

not that random guy on the street, not that cute guy at the coffee shop, and definitely not your classmate. no, it was him. your cute roommate who likes dressing in feminine attire. the cute pretty boy living with you who wears skirts, dresses, and all things pretty. your very own roommate who knows more than you'd like others to know.

"hey, i like you and really see you as more than a friend-"

"yeah cause we're roomies!"

ah, he knows what you're trying to do. you're trying to play hard to get! that's it! there's no way you'd actually get with someone else right?

"lol so meet my new boyfriend..."

"😦"

okay, that's it.

he's more than willing to take drastic measures to ensure that you're his. it doesn't matter if you're a bit upset or confused right now, he'll help you realise your true feelings. your true love for him. because that's what a good roomie does, right? they help you when you need it.

and he's the ultimate roomate. so much so that he's certain he'll be your boyfriend by the end of it all.

all yours to do what you want. just accept him and everything will be alright.

[auncyen]

I'm in the middle of reading a book with the apt title "Not the End of the World" by Hannah Ritchie and while I think the book is a bit too blithe about things sometimes, it does a really good job of helping reframe how to look at climate change (which is only one doomsday scenario, yes, but it's specifically mentioned in OP's comic and it's one a good number of people find relevant so I figure it's worth adding this tangent). Still in the middle of reading but some of the big takeaways so far:

the news is incentivized to highlight disasters instead of focusing on longterm trends. It can be easy to miss that things are actually improving when you're being bombarded with everything that's going wrong. (Realizing this...makes some U.S. schools' decision to focus more on short readings over longer selections/books to reflect how media's changed a bit worrying, honestly, but in terms of climate change, we've improved in a number of aspects, even if there's still a lot of work to be done.) This can be applicable to other issues too. Sometimes it helps to pull back and look at what the longterm trend has been.

in a way, humanity has not yet been "sustainable". This judgment is based on a definition of sustainability with two halves: 1) we're meeting the needs of the current generation, 2) without depriving the future of generations yet to come. And we tend to judge a lot by the 2nd half without acknowledging that we've come a long way on the 1st. And sometimes we've created problems for the 2nd part while trying to solve the 1st and yes, the new problems need to be solved, but I do find it more helpful to think less of "oh, humanity's ruined things by being selfish and greedy" and more "okay, some of the solutions we came up with in the past will not work long term, but they at least gave more breathing room so we can work on long-term solutions". (And yeah this still has a caveat--some environmental disasters have been just a matter of greed, or callousness for the people who'd have to live with the consequences. But there are a number of issues where it's "this solution sucks, but it's better than what we had before.")

(sorry if this isn't perfectly coherent, I had. some unpleasant and distracting events happen on the night I started drafting this and only came back to it days later.)

Tips for Defying the End of the World.

[lemonmaid]

A snip i need to get out of my head before bed. (Warnings pregnant reader, not proofed read, I'm so fucking tired)

Poly 141 x pregnant reader.

When you told the boys that you were pregnant, many many emotions but not one was negative towards you.

Johnny was excited, immediately thinking of names and happy that they almost have enough people for a football team (john thinks rugby would be a better sport but who is asking).

Simon who is immediately nervous due to his own family issues, he knows therapy can help with this but he'll be damn if he is ever like his father.

Kyle who is immediately thinking why it is important to know who the father is, even if he isn't the bio dad he is still gonna buy the proper hair products just in case.

John who is already crying, he is a big papa bear now and he couldn't be more happy.

Over the course of your pregnancy, the boys are literally waiting hand and foot for you.

Simon refuses to let you do anything on your own. You want to help with the nursery? No sit down and rest. You need to bend down and grab something you dropped? Nah call him even if he is at work.

John is up your ass about you doing exercises and taking your prenatal vitamins. He wakes you up at eight in the morning to do a light work out for your core muscle then makes you wind down for bed by 9 pm.

Johnny is always ready to make a snack run, even if John is against it, hell he even got back up emergency snacks in the car. Even though you all share an Alaskan king bed, reach over and shove him awake so he can do a quick errand.

Kyle is always with you when you are shopping, 100% he will agree with you on any clothing for the baby, you want the cutest expensive baby towel that is good for eczema? No problem. You think we should do cloth diapers? You're absolutely right, save nature.

When you have to get a body pillow/pregnancy pillow to support your stomach the boys are upset that they can't cuddle you without the pillow being in the way (or the little shit kicks them and it hurts you).

The boys love, LOVE it when you wear tight shirts, I mean look at that adorable bump and Jesus christ your breast have gotten so big.

Speaking of breast, Johnny is always looking at you like a kicked dog when you don't let him "help" you pump.

Please tell them when something hurts. Because these boys take everything too serious. When you started having braksion hicks, they were so paranoid. It got to a point where when you were in labor you didn't tell them untill they were 5 minutes apart. Which freaked them out, rushing you to the hospital.

The boys are 100% supportive of your birth plan, they really are.

But as soon as the contractions hit and they see your pained expression, they are immediately second guessing.

John is bluntly telling you to take the epidural.

Simon is rubbing your back telling you that there is no reward for having a natural birth.

But, you progress, practicing your breathing exercises, you've been training for this moment. You decided to bounce and roll on the yoga ball that was offered in the room, it help with the pressure.

Johnny is the one who has been trying to sneak you food, happy wife (or partner) happy life. But Kyle is nagging him how you cannot have food when you are close to labor (you're only 2 cm and it's been four hours).

Simon is encouraging you to sleep and rest, when you obviously can't Johnny is helping you recheck the diaper bag for the tenth time that night.

Kyle who is walking with you up and down the hall, purposely walking down the hall with the window where you can see the other newborns.

John who is now having panic attack, 'oh god I'm going to be a father'.

When it's finally time to start pushing, one of the nurses tries pushing out the others, thinking that John is the father. It wasn't untill your midwife told them to leave them be and that they can stay.

Simon and John who are holding your hands as you pushed, Johnny is playing with your hair to help distract you from the pain and Kyle is wiping your forehead.

When everyone hears the sharp cry that echoes in the room, the gasp is heard, when the newborn is placed on your chest, they can't help but shed a tear.

Simon and Johnny are telling you that you did an amazing job. Kyle is kissing your head, comforting your cries, John is watching the nurses every move with the newborn.

They all couldn't be more happier.

[madschiavelique]

A Crown Of Ink : Chapter 5 - Temperance

summary : viktor and reader work together in the library (so much banter, it's insane), then maybe there's a small fight because a guy called viktor a cripple and that causes some issues

content warnings : mentions of blood but really not that much tbh

word count : 5,4k

author's note : you thought i was gone on this one huh ? WRONG. we're so back babies! i know it's been 2 years since i've touched this baby okay, but i'm back now! hopefully i will get more time to write about this lil guy bc i love this fic.

masterlist : 1 — 2 — 3 — 4 — 5

(not proofread, english is not my first language ✦)

taglist : @doctorho

For the rest of the two long hours, Heimerdinger continued his lesson.

The class had come to an end, you silent, the class teeming with gossip. Professor Heimerdinger had distributed the subjects one by one to the students at the end of the lesson. He was a perfectly reasonable, friendly teacher who tried to make his pupils laugh at the expense of their historical knowledge.

When you had a lesson with him, you knew you were listening to a teacher who was wise enough to turn events and experiences into jokes to lighten the burden of his history lessons.

He was always on the lookout for questions and comments from the students, not hesitating for a moment as he gave the subjects to the groups one by one to point out the difficulties they might find and the pitfalls that might await them.

In short, Heimerdinger wanted his students to succeed, not to see a decline in the Piltover Academy's chances of success, which in the eyes of many seemed to be something to crow about rather than something to be ashamed of.

The very idea of being one of the few students to overcome these difficulties and succeed was, in your eyes, the greatest reward that could ever be given to you.

“Young folks,” he said, pointing to the two of you. “Come this way. I have reserved a subject especially for you.”

Heimerdinger didn't do things haphazardly. He gave students subjects that reflected them, or at least where he knew the results would be most interesting. You couldn't help but fear what he was up to.

When the students had dispersed, the tinkle of Viktor's cane sounded until he arrived at your side. You sighed audibly as you looked at him, crossing your arms over your chest as he gave you a winning smile.

He seemed to enjoy it when you got angry, and took great pleasure in teasing you constantly. Had he been a friend, you wouldn't have held it against him, even though your list of friends consisted mainly of Eris, Sky and Jayce. However, a friend wasn't supposed to be a problem for your success. There's only so much space in the academy for students who come out on top, and you weren't about to give yours away.

“Good,” he said at last as the last student passed through the doorway. “There's no need to point out that you two are the sharpest elements of this class, you're well enough aware of that, as is the rest of the school certainly.”

Your bickering and petty battles almost made the corridors of the school come alive again with the excitement of rumour and gossip partaking in your reputation.

“None of the fellow teachers in this establishment seem to have brought to the table, however, a possibility which seems to me to be the most interesting for both of you: teamwork.”

You arched an eyebrow, finding the reasoning profoundly moronic.

“Sir,” you couldn't help but point out, “this school is eliminatory. Why would you want to associate students who won't necessarily all have the chance to pass the exams?”

Heimerdinger chuckled, “I'm not doing it with the prospect of a pass or a gold medal waiting for you at the finish line, Miss.”

You tilted your chin up in a slight pout of surprise.

“You see, I'm not necessarily trying to prepare you for the exams, but for what will happen once they're over. Having a diploma is all very well on paper, but what counts most in the end will be what you achieve.”

“All right,” you admit, “but why put us in a pair like this?”

“It's quite simple,” he jumped up from his desk, trotting across the floor to stand in front of you, your eyes downcast on him. “In the working environment, you don't always find a shoe to fit. And when you don't have the power to dismiss your colleague just because you don't like them, you have to learn to sacrifice your temperament for the sake of the common good. Now, I'm not asking you to make sacrifices, that word is far too violent, but I am asking you to compromise.”

You exchanged a look with Viktor, your fists clenching until your knuckles were white. You'd already made enough compromises for one lifetime, and now you had to go on? He, for his part, didn't seem too bothered by the situation. How could he be so calm? So serene about the idea of cooperating?

“You don't always work with the person of your choice, and not always on the subjects you'd prefer. Oh, that's just it! Speaking of subjects…”

He stood on tiptoe, grabbing the last sheet of paper from his desk and holding it out to Viktor.

The latter, for once, frowned in pure confusion and even perhaps... irritation?

“The evolution of Zaun's power?”

Your eyes narrowed before shifting from Viktor to Heimerdinger, “Are you joking?”

“I do love to laugh young lady but the shortest jokes are the best. You both seem, for different reasons, to have an excellent knowledge of Zaun. Its political power, its evolution, and even the iconic figures who can make themselves forgotten in the shadows of its depths.”

You exhaled a shaky breath, trying to remain upright and not revolt on the spot. Heimerdinger seemed way too amused and happy of his little scheme.

“Any questions?”

Viktor read the subject and what you had to complete, “Do you have any books to recommend to us Professor?”

Heimerdinger's voice became a blur as your thoughts drifted like the Grey in Zaun. Every corner of this city was out to kill you, and even when you were out of it, it followed you like your shadow.

Were you ever going to get out of such a cycle, out of this city’s grasp ?

“Miss?”

The teacher's voice brought you back down to earth. Distracted, you simply offered a confused hum in question so that he would repeat his last words.

“Your assignment is due in a month. That gives you time to put your differences aside and find a way of working together. If you'll excuse me, my next class is coming up soon.”

He gestured towards the exit, and soon enough you found yourselves in the corridor. The momentary emptiness of the hall almost seemed to bring you back to reality.

You drew in a breath, meeting Viktor's gaze beside you. You couldn't afford to get a bad mark, especially not for a Heimerdinger course. He was one of the most renowned scientists in the country, with his own seat on the Piltover council. To produce mediocre work would be to end your career on the spot, and you were prepared to at least try to cooperate with someone like Viktor.

“Why are you not begging the teacher to put us both in different duos?��� you asked while Viktor was still reading the subject content.

“Hm, I think it might be fun.” he said, not even glancing at you.

You scoffed, “You and me?” your trigger finger pointing back and forth between the two of you, “Together? Fun?”

His eyes dropped from the paper, scanning you with a changed interest.

“You'd rather go back in there and ask for a rematch like a loser?”

A muscle near your eye tensed for a moment.

He sighed, his eyes returning to the subject, “Admitting defeat takes strength.”

“So you think I'm weak ?”

But Viktor didn't seem to have the slightest interest in you at the moment.

You relaxed your shoulders, sighing. There was no point in trying to beat him, you weren't - on that subject at least - in competition.

“Can I see the subject?” you asked, reaching for the paper, but he removed it from your reach in an instant.

You frowned, this wasn't going to be easy.

“Do I disgust you?” he asked.

The question caught you off guard, your eyes blinking several times as you almost looked at him with fresh eyes.

If the question was purely physical, no, Viktor didn't disgust you. He was always accompanied at all times and in all places by that same invariable weariness that gave him a particular elegance. He had features common in Zaun, brown hair, amber eyes, and an accent that made some of the girls in your class drop like flies.

When it came to his character and personality though, it was another thing entirely.

“You annoy me,” you replied, managing to snatch the subject of his hand with enough agility that the gesture left him surprised, “but you don't disgust me.”

He remained silent for a moment. You could feel his eyes on you as yours fell on those of the subject.

“The only thing that disgusts me is your taste in pasta,” you confirmed.

He let out a little laugh, the kind that mixes humming and nose blowing, the kind you do when a remark makes you nostalgic.

“Friday, 5pm, library, don't be late.” he said simply, the clink of his cane echoing on the floor as he began to walk away.

As your eyes roamed over the page, you couldn't help but take in nothing of what was written. Your mind was stuck on him, on the trick Heimerdinger had just played on you.

He had just orchestrated a game that the whole school was going to bet on, the teachers were going to look at your situation in a new light, and in the worst case scenario, multiply the group work to put you both in pairs.

Your heart looped as you realised that this was undoubtedly another test. Heimerdinger was going to observe which of you was the best performer, the most pliable, the best at teamwork.

You had to be flawless, you had to.

Friday came earlier than you imagined, and you weren't looking forward to it in the least. You hadn't stopped thinking about it, finding yourself on numerous occasions distracted during your homework.

The card of the day you had drawn was Temperance, and the little booklet told you:

Alchemy. Mixing and harmonising opposing forces and concepts. Maintaining opposing ideas and encouraging complexity in life. Fusion produces evolution.

The archangel Gabriel, the angel messenger, is represented on the card. He wears the sign of the sun on his forehead. This is also the alchemist's symbol for gold. This card reflects the changing of the seasons and the adoption of new ideas. Temper in Latin is the act of repetition to invoke skill or to refine something, to make it sharper like a sword.

What a pain that was, and to think you'd have to endure this for a whole month of deep research and hours spent by his side working, together.

You dragged your feet as you made your way to the academy library.

It was a magnificent place, filled with the smell of varnished wood, old paper and dried ink. The ceiling was arched, the bookshelves forming real walls that separated the room like rows of pews in a church. If it hadn't been reserved for the academy's research students, it would surely have been on Piltover's list of monuments to visit.

There weren't many people there, apart from a small handful of students finishing their homework before basking in the arrival of the weekend. You were a good fifteen minutes early, and didn't see Viktor at all.

You were just about to put your bag and things down by a table and start your research, when a voice you wouldn't have preferred to hear at the time greeted you:

“Ah, there you are,” Viktor approached, coming out of one of the library corridors, “I just needed some help to get to the higher tomes.”

With his free hand, he held up a small stack of tomes, pressing them under his chin before placing them on a table with two or three other books already laid out.

You sighed, moving your things over to his table, “Have you been there for long already?”

“Why, do you care about me?” his cheeky grin made you roll your eyes.

“I think you overestimated my greatness. Which shelf?”

He said nothing, making his way to one of the shelves. You followed him. Fortunately, the women's uniforms at the academy had trousers. You wouldn't have known what to do if it had been otherwise and you'd ended up on a ladder above him.

“You know,” he began as you reached the meagre ladder to the upper shelves, “I've been looking forward to working with you.”

You arched an eyebrow, your hand gripping the ladder as you looked at him in confusion.

“Why?”

The two of you were only picking on each other, you were avoiding him like the plague, and you'd made it clear to him several times that your situation was that of a competition. So obviously you had a right to be surprised as to why he'd want to work with you.

He shrugged. “You were the top student before I came here, surely there must be a reason behind it.”

You expelled an abrupt puff from your lungs, your breath taken away by his insolence. You could only expect it after all.

You climbed a few steps up the ladder, looking for Zaun's historical tomes.

“Is that supposed to be a compliment, or am I to believe my working buddy seeks to diminish me to a fictive second rank?”

“We're in a library, alas, reality catches up to this fiction, miss number two.”

You clutched the volume in your hand, your nostrils flaring for a moment in anger. He knew how to annoy you, and you never seemed to find a single point on which you could reciprocate.

You held out the tomes one by one for him to take. “Guess I could work on a pet name for you too.”

“Be my guess.”

Once his arm was full, you took a few tomes in your hands before climbing down the ladder and walking towards the table. “And make you the honour of thinking of something to be done for you ? I'd rather lick sandpaper.”

He feigned disappointment, “So I do disgust you, this pains me.”

You set the pile of volumes down on the table, reaching into your bag to pull out paper and pens.

“Yeah well, You were supposed to pretend I didn't exist, not try to bother me to death. So I guess we're both disappointed.”

He took a seat, grabbing a volume and placing it in front of him. “So I bother you ?”

You sat down opposite him, imitating his gesture as you searched with interest for a tome to start with.

“What a transcending sense of observation you have.”

He brought both his hands up in front of him, resting his chin on the backs of his fingers.

“How do I bother you?”

You were starting to get annoyed by his questions. You had come here to work, not to chat.

“Your simple existence?” you replied, staring into his eyes.

He sighed, opening his book and noting on the page its title.

“As if yours wasn't proof that failure has a sense of humour.”

You said nothing, letting his comment wander in the air as you started your own research in silence, locating the chapter of interest to you in the table of contents.

“But seriously,” Viktor continued, “why do I bother you?”

You sighed, pinching the page you were on before shifting your eyes from the words on it to Viktor's curious amber gaze.

“You want an honest answer ?”

He nodded. You let go of the page, straightening up.

“You come into my life and wreck everything I've built brick by brick, wouldn't you be the slightest bit frustrated if that happened to you ?”

It was his turn to be silent this time. He seemed to look at you differently, as if, by some miracle perhaps, he'd just realised what was at stake for you in this situation.

He wasn't even touching the tip of the iceberg of why you'd come to the Academy, but for a moment he seemed to understand how important it could be for you.

Your eyes returned to your page, trying to find keywords to write down or information to record.

“You surpassed me in the exam, teachers love you, you make great friends…”

“Almost sounds like you're obsessed with me.”

Your lips parted, eyes wide as you looked at him as if he'd just slapped you, leaving your cheek and your thoughts with a warm tingle. You were so surprised that nothing came from your lips, which was beginning to be enough for a flash of mischief to cross Viktor's eyes and for the corner of his lips to form a sneer.

“I'm not.” You finally reply, trying to remain composed and not to stammer for anything in the world.

“Denial would've worked before the long vacant stare,” he says, advancing slightly on the table.

“Why do you have to be like that?”

“Like what?”

You humph, dropping back in your chair in despair.

“Better than me.”

He recoiled slightly, as if the remark was completely far-fetched and unfounded.

“There are thousands of people better than me, why do you have to focus on my poor self, hm? Did I barge in your territory?”

He had, unconsciously he truly had. It was you who was supposed to be first, otherwise the consequences would've been mentally dire.

“Take it this way,” he continued, “there's surely something you're better at than me.”

You couldn't think of much on the spot, especially not when there was a possibility of you making a list of things he topped you in. There was surely one thing though.

“Running.”

He opened his lips in surprise, a smile stretching across his face which he hid with his hand. You were already regretting what you'd just said.

“Jayce is going to be the first one hearing about this.”

“No it's-”

“So you're participating in a system made against disabilities.”

“I never-”

“Are you going to steal my crutch next in hopes of beating me to a race?”

“You're never going to drop this now are you ?”

“With such a statement ? Never.”

“Whatever let's just- let's just work.” you mumble, your cheeks flushing with embarrassment and shame as you desperately try to move on.

He gave one last chuckle before getting back to work. He seemed to be reading a tome on the history of the masters of Zaun.

“About Tytos, I still think you've got that wrong.” he said as he read another page from the tome.

“I think I'm going to smash your face in.” you replied calmly without looking at him.

“As if you could reach me.”

“You know what-” you began, raising your voice.

However, somebody shushed you in the room, restricting you to remaining calm.

“Raising your voice in a library? You'd have to be a stupid fool.”

“Trying to contradict me when even Heimerdinger considered my answer excellent is not the wisest either.”

“Heimerdinger would tell a snail that goes slightly faster than the norm it's excellent. But maybe your low self esteem is just common sense.”

“Maybe my self esteem will just leave this library right now.” you say, crossing your arms on the table.

“And leave me to pursue this matter on my own? That wouldn't be very serious, miss number two.”

You sighed, getting back to work. Your blood was boiling in your veins just from sitting at this table.

“None of the books mention Tytos.”

“Since when do you trust Piltover books on the accounts of the history of Zaun ?”

Touché. He raised his eyebrows as if it were the only relevant thing you could have said.

“You never said where you were from, in Zaun,” he remarked.

You tensed slightly. “Why do you want to know that ?”

“We're making an exposé on Zaun, we're both from there, might as well just know it,” he said, raising his eyes to yours.

You watched him for a moment, he didn't seem to want to make a joke of you once your answer was out of your mouth. But in any case, you weren't going to give it to him.

“You wouldn't know,” you replied simply as you jotted down another date.

‘I'm sure that I-”

“You don't want to know.’ you said firmly, the seriousness taking over your face to assure him that this was certainly not territory he wished to venture into.

He frowned, confused. He seemed deeply intrigued by you, and that made you uncomfortable. Never before in your life had anyone asked you so many questions about yourself in such a short space of time. And so here he was, shaking up every one of your pillars like a bowling ball knocking over pins.

This one, however, was not about to give way.

You looked at your watch for a moment, sighing.

“Let's work for one more hour. We'll make a plan and subparts of what we'll talk about at the end of it.”

This time Viktor seemed to get the message: silence. 

You couldn't help glancing at him from time to time. You noticed the way his long fingers flicked across the pages, the way his eyebrows furrowed as he read, the way he rested his cheek on the back of his hand with a sigh as he read a boring piece of writing. 

Or when he would click his pencil for a moment to write something down, and his handwriting would lie gracefully on the paper, scratching the grain of the paper.

It was not without surprise that, once the hour had passed, there was hardly anyone in the library but the two of you. 

When you explained your plan for the presentation to Viktor, he agreed, simply giving a few perfectly critical and serious remarks without condescending to him in any way.

“Good. I think this is a good time to stop for today,” you said as you stood up, taking a stack of books in your arms.

All in all, working with Viktor like this wasn't so bad, when it was done in silence. But as soon as either of you opened your lips to say anything, politeness left the room in great strides.

You put each tome away in its old place, both of you taking your things, and left the library. The academy wasn't closed yet, and some people still had classes or were hanging around in the corridors.

You walked side by side, your pace the same as Viktor's. All the students seemed to turn around as you passed, your duo seeming like a pair of circus animals. 

You glanced at Viktor, who didn't seem in the least affected by this.

However, a trio of students were watching you with evil, mocking eyes. You couldn't help but tense up, however, when the one who seemed as tall as he was stupid remarked: 

“Die already, cripple. You're slowing the traffic.”

Your shoulders tensed as you walked, expecting to do what you'd always had to do here despite the taunts: ignore and move on.

But Viktor wasn't going to listen to you like that.

“Thank you for your advice, I'll try euthanasia once you'll be able to count higher than the number of butterfingers you've got.”

A few chuckles echoed in the corridor at his reply, but the young man seemed to be boiling with hatred. It was as you passed in front of them that, in a cowardly move, he kicked Viktor's cane.

He lost his balance, falling face first to the ground as his cane fell beside him. The air stopped for a moment with the shock of the gesture, your eyes shifting from Viktor on the ground to the idiot who had just knocked him over. Students knelt down beside him immediately to help him.

“Oops, my foot slipped. Sorry.”

But nothing, of course, conveyed any regret at this behaviour.

He turned his back and walked off with his group of friends. Your blood ran cold.

Quickly, you grabbed Viktor's cane, which was still on the ground, and made it whistle through the air before it struck the back of the student's knees. It was his turn to shrivel up on the floor, and he immediately turned to you, his cheeks red with anger.

“Oops, my hand slipped,” you said, glancing at the crutch for a moment before returning to him. “Sorry.”

You turned back to Viktor, handing him his crutch. He looked at you with fried whiting eyes, deeply surprised by your gesture without moving a muscle.

“You fucking slut…” you heard behind you.

But as soon as you turned around, a sharp blow hit you in the cheek. The force of it knocked you back two steps, a metallic taste spreading through your mouth. You brought your fingers to your lips, hissing as you touched them, your bottom lip burning. Bringing your fingers back into line of sight, you found them bloodied.

You turned to the student, his face far too satisfied for your liking.

‘’What a brilliant idea,‘’ you breathed as, in one swift movement, you struck his crotch with the crutch.

He bent over instinctively, gasping for breath, before you punched him right in the nose. He fell, cowering on the ground like a miserable insect.

"What's going on here?" asked a stern voice.

Madame Agrane, one of your teachers, came into the corridor. Her eyes fell on Viktor on the floor, your lip split, the student on the ground surrounded by his two friends.

“Everyone in my office, now.”

You pressed a bag of ice cubes to your cheek, sitting next to Viktor who was clutching his crutch in his hands. As for the idiot, he kept grumbling and giving you nasty looks.

"Can someone explain to me what happened for you all to end up in such states?" questioned Agrane.

You were about to start but the idiot beat you to it.

"Madame Agrane, I was just minding my own business in the corridor when these two pupils came up to me! One was hitting me with his crutch while the other was punching me. I don't know what I've done to deserve this.' He exclaimed theatrically, Viktor and you looking at him like the most ridiculous being to ever be.

If there was one thing that helped your reputation, it was that you were known as serious students, who didn't fall into the category of those who would start a fight in the corridors for no particular reason.

"That is far from the truth," Viktor retorted calmly. "He insulted me, then made me fall, and then...’

He seemed to be hesitating over his words, or at least looking for the right term. He turned to you, letting his eyes drift for a moment to your split lip, and then back to Madame Agrane's gaze.

"... My friend protected me."

Friend? the word made you clench your jaw, inhaling. It was just a lie, just a word brought to the front to give your teacher sympathy. No, he certainly didn't mean it.

The teacher looked at you, seeming more convinced by your story than the other. Noticing this, the student couldn't help but plead his own case: 

"Madam, these two students come from Zaun. The blood of violence will always run in their veins."

Agrane seemed to give you a new look, as if you and Viktor were ready to pounce on her like two wolves.

"Is this a joke? You started all this," you said, offended.

"Beating you up would have brought greatness to Piltover." he replied.

"Oh, look at you, attempting greatness! Pity it's just an attempt." you sighed, pressing the ice pack a little closer to your cheek to put out the fire your anger was beginning to spread.

"Madam Agrane," he continued, turning to her, "you know what my patron will think about this. Imagine his reaction when he will hear how you have treated his favoured student?"

You had no idea who his patron could possibly have been, but she didn't hesitate for a second to say: 

"Miss, you'll get an hour's detention for your violent behaviour in the corridors. I hope I don't have to catch you again doing such barbaric acts."

Your eyes widened just as much as Viktor's.

"What?! But he's the one who-" you tried, pointing at the idiot who was smiling victoriously.

"There's no buts about it. The discussion is closed. You'll have your detention period this Monday."

"Madam, I think there's been a mistake." Viktor began.

"Do you want to be given detention too, young man?"

Viktor remained silent, sighing before lowering his eyes to the ground.

"Good, see you on Monday, then."

The fool stood up first, walking past you with a foolish grin on his face.

"Bet it feels just like home to be in prison by monday, hm?"

Your lip hemmed in disgust, your nose scrunching up.

"Try what you've done just once more, and I'll personally make sure you have no offspring."

He looked slightly frightened for a moment, then frowned like a child before leaving the room.

You sighed, standing up. You wanted to get out of here right away, away from the horrible feeling of injustice in your heart, away from the word ‘punishment’ burning into your skin.

Your free hand instinctively came to rest on your shoulder for comfort, and you stood up to get your things.

“You didn’t have to do this earlier, you know.” Viktor said.

You sighed, walking towards the door. “Whatever, what is done is done.”

"Hey," Viktor said, standing up behind you.

You didn't even turn to him.

"Thanks, I wasn't expecting that at all."

You waited for something, for anything that would come after what he had just said, but nothing came. Your turned to him.

"Is that all? No remarks about how I'd have been better off hitting him somewhere else, or stupid sarcasm about my action?"

He seemed surprised by your reaction, his face puzzled and almost saddened.

"We're not friends, Viktor." you said, your face as cold as the ice pack on your cheek. "We're..."

But what were you apart from rivals? Two rivals working together to do a job that would rely on both of you, that wasn't really rivalry. It was camaraderie in a way, you were classmates, but friends?

You pursed your lips, a slight trickle of blood beading from them.

"See you next week."

Without further ado, you left the room. You walked down the corridors, the students staring at you like an alien. You were suffocating under all those sharp, curious, numerous stares. You pressed on, leaving the academy as quickly as possible.

Once outside, you took the first quiet alley you could find.

“Shit!” you swore, pressing your back against the first wall you could find.

You brought your hand up to your forehead, sighing until you almost felt your body slide down the wall, running your palm over your face in frustration and exhaustion.

You wanted to cry, the weight of everything feeling like it was zipping up on you like a body bag. You'd been stupid, acting on your emotions. You should have kept your head down, let the administration do its job, not invented a life of heroism trying to redress the balance that some fool had tipped.

You didn't even like Viktor, but you'd still jumped at the chance to do him justice. No, you didn't like Viktor any more than that.

But you respected him.

Could you be friends with him?

The question passed through your mind for a moment, but you ended up putting it out of your mind.

You let your head fall back against the wall. The thought of an hour's detention in your perfect record seemed to you like a thread sticking out of a beautiful dress, itching to be pulled on. You tried to console yourself, to come to terms with the fact that it was just another hour of extra study. But you couldn't help feeling heavy with pain.

Eventually you gathered up your things and walked home, hoping that the cool night air would help to quench the fire that was still boiling inside you. Winter was on your doorstep, and ready to complicate things.

✦﹒previous chapter 　　　　　　 ✦﹒next chapter

[adventures-in-mangaland]

Dead Boy Detectives Fic Recs Part 7

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6

So I hear there's been some fandom drama? Guess it's time for another fic rec list! This fandom is so lovely, so let's focus on the positive and give all the love to our writers and artists. You guys are so talented. ♥️

Work It Harder, Make it Better by dear_monday, two_ravens

Olympics AU! And kind of Sk8er Boi? Charles is an Olympic skateboarder at the end of his competitive career and Edwin is a rising star in the world of dressage. They fall in love at Paris 2024. Amazing writing, as always, and I also enjoyed Niko and Crystal as members of the skateboarding and equestrian teams having their own Olympics Romance and Jenny as Charles' world-weary coach.

Twin Flame by Leandra

Another "He was a punk, he did ballet" romance! This time, everyone is alive and the boys meet when Charles watches Edwin perform at his little sister's ballet recital. The romance and Charles as a big brother are very sweet, which is great as this fic also covers some heavy themes. It's set in the 90s so there's discussion of homophobia, the AIDs crisis and Charles' canon child abuse. Suffice to say, his bisexual awakening is quite fraught. Recommended!

Love for Hire by lucrow

Edwin hires Charles to freak out his parents with his obnoxious fake boyfriend. What could possible haaappeeen? And yes, it's a ballet/punk romance too. 😅 Anyway, it's giving fantastic banter, lots of emotions and great use of trope! I also enjoyed Edwin's relationship with his mum in this fic, excellent parental feels.

so I try to talk refined by shadowquill17

Charles finds out about the Cat King taking on his appearance and (somehow) arrives at the conclusion that Edwin isn't attracted to him. Charles having body image as well as chronic self-esteem issues was interesting but kind of heartbreaking. Read it for Edwin's agonised attempts to verbalise his sexual attraction to Charles without exploding. That's love right there.

A Royal Pain(e) (series) by handwrittenhello

Royalty AU! I love a bodyguard romance from time to time and this one is lovely. Lots of yearning.

Turnabout's Fair Play by Like MmmCookies

Edwin enlists Niko and Crystal to teach him how to flirt with Charles. It starts off cute and awkward and ends up Master Of All He Surveys, which is very Edwin.

I will love you (I really love you) by ghostinthelibrary

Charles has a feelings realization and tries to confess to Edwin. Repeatedly. From a cock-blocking enchanted statue to a Hellhound, it's farcical and fun. This fic has been living in my head rent free for months.

seasons of mists by laiqualaurelote

Edwin hires Charles to be the barista in his book shop's cafe. Two cosy AUs in one! And it even comes (appropriately) with its own reading list and fanart! Very cute, excellent autumnal vibes and a superb imaginary book shop. I'm genuinely so devastated it's not a real place. 😭

Ariadne's Thread by hobbitsdoitbetter

In which Edwin is demisexual and trying to make it work with Charles. Love to see some ace spectrum representation!

you know the problem with history (it keeps coming back like weeds) by aletterinthenameofsanity

Amnesia AU! And kind of Secret Relationship? Edwin has Not So Temporary Amnesia that made him forget a whole romantic relationship with Charles early in their partnership. And Charles never told him... Surely this will have no impact on the events of canon?? 😬 I loved this twist on the trope!

scraped to the marrow by Anonymous

Edwin learned black magic in Hell and kind of went to the Dark Side. I love the trope of "Everyone thinks Character avoids violence because they're scared/weak/nice/bad at it, but actually they're a bit too good at it" and this fic does it well. I love regular Edwin, but Lord Bone was also pretty cool.

To Walk Back Into Hell by Asidian

Charles goes to Hell in Edwin's place, so naturally Edwin needs to find a way to rescue him! Interesting Hell lore and I loved all the Charles love in this.

It does not stop by williamvapespeare

Now he's safe from Hell, Edwin finally works through his PTSD. Emotional, but peak Emotional Support Charles for the win!

signed, sealed, delivered by sulfuric

Outsider PoV of the boys and the agency through the years from the perspective of the Ghost Postman. He's kind of underrated as a side character, but there are so many Implications about the Dead Letter Office, so I enjoyed the worldbuilding. And the supernatural community of London gossiping about/shipping the boys (they're just like us, for real). Love that trope.

not so secret by lola_prongs

Social Media/Celebrity AU! In which they're both actors and Charles relentlessly thirsts after Edwin on Twitter. Great use of social media/epistolary storytelling.

Like a record, baby by singtome

Another celebrity/social media AU, but this time Charles and Crystal are budding rock stars and Edwin is their manager. Also Edwin goes viral as the mysterious #HotGuyatUnity after his picture's taken at an event and Charles *tries* to set the record straight. This one's funny, generous with the yearning and UST and is part of a series that also touches on the darker side of the music industry/celebrity, which I appreciated. And it also has this excellent visual representation of the online drama.

@ghostinthelibrarywrites @tumblerislovetumblerislife @shadowquill17 @neurodivergent-fangirling @whatthehorsedoicallthisblog @shazziez @many-gay-magpies @extremely-eager-reader @atariakana @guardianspirits13 @colourmornings @herebehunters @avoiceofnerat @littlepocketuniverse @overlord-of-chaos @fairandfatalasfair @handwrittenhello @every-moment-a-different-sound @williamvapespeare @laiqualaurelote @dear-monday @dear-lucrow @aletterinthenameofsanity @likemmmcookies @bibliomancer7 @c-rowland @nobledragonflying @hobbitsdoitbetter

I've tagged some people again. Let me know if you'd like to be added to the tag list!

[ghouljams]

I know every fandom has it's fair share of "incest"(not sure if thats the correct term) but it seems like the cod fandom has it so much more than the other popular ones

I mean maybe I'm not 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂 enough and I know every person has their own turn ons and off but it can't be just me who thinks this is weird/cod fandom has like so much more of it (and I have been on the internet for a good 8+ years and have been deep in fandoms)

(idk maybe I'm just rambling out of my ass because I have ocd and intrusive thoughts place my own family members the moment I say words about a family)

Omg hi friend!

First of all I want to say that I'm glad you asked because I've actually been thinking about this!

I have a major(MAJOR) turn off for actual incest in fanfiction. Maybe because I lived through homestuck and people fucking love incest in that fandom, but I cannot read it without getting squicked out. Faux-cest though doesn't seem to give me the same problem and I think it's because there's always an undercurrent of "this is pretend" when done right, it feels porn-y, fake. I think it's because (in my mind) faux-cest falls under the "humiliation/degradation" kink, there's an overt power dynamic there that feels... different from actual incest fics.

Which also? The amount of people who have DDlg/MDlb kinks in this fandom is insane. Every day I see people calling Price "daddy" and I just... I'm gonna be so honest with y'all I hate seeing "daddy" in a fic, I don't mind caretaker doms but I just can't get into age play or the uwu cutesy way some of those fics go. But that's just me.

All that to give me some credibility in telling you: I don't think it's the cod fandom at large, but maybe just the writers who all follow each other and seem to get the same brain worms at the same time(I am guilty of this).

I think for some people there's an element of "I just figured out how to write this kink and I'm making it everyone's problem" and for others it's a "this seems popular at the moment let me throw my hat in the ring." Personally I had a faux-cest dream that I didn't particularly enjoy, honestly felt more like a nightmare, but I figured other people would see kink in the horrific so I popped it up on the blog.

Anyway I don't think you have to be "freaky enough" or even put yourself through reading a kink you don't enjoy, there's a reason I've been putting trigger tags on all the faux-cest stuff! I want people to be able to filter it out. Hell, a lot of it squicks me out, and I've written some of it. I don't really see it as any more prevalent in the cod fandom than others though. I mean every fandom has a decent portion that jump straight to incest stuff, you may have just managed to avoid it fairly well.

[mind-intheclouds342]

A new ladder - Reader x Curly

Previous - Part 5 - Next

"This looks like a funeral home!"

You said, clapping, alarming Curly who had barely woken up about ten minutes ago. 

You started to open the curtains to let some light in and turned on the television, looking for a channel that plays music instead of news. 

You smiled when you found one with music you like and were ready to go prepare breakfast, but you almost fell from the shock when you saw Curly. 

"Hey-!... You got up on your own..." you mentioned, holding your chest. 

Curly: "Ah... Yes, I made coffee but... I couldn't serve it, it's still in the coffee maker... Do you do that every day?"

"...You have a very, very deep sleep, in case you didn't know..." 

You kept staring at him, not taking your eyes off him as you slowly walked to grab the coffee pot to pour the coffee into two cups. 

Curly: "What do you want to do today?"

You raised an eyebrow as you thought of a response. 

"There's an amusement park in the city, how does that sound?"

Curly: "Sounds good" he nodded. 

You gave him a smile and pushed him a little, making him lose his balance and have to hold onto the table to avoid falling. 

"Impossible, you're going to fall apart if we go there. We need to practice your walking and how to use your new limbs."

Curly: "What do you recommend then?" he asked, finally standing up with some difficulty. 

"Let's go for a jog!" She patted his back, ready to prepare something to add to breakfast. 

After eating, they both changed into clothes, some for training. 

Curly noticed how loose his clothes had become due to the loss of muscle. 

"Later I can adjust it if you like, is it very uncomfortable for you?" 

You approached him to check it. 

Curly: "I'm worried that my pants will fall down."

"Look how easy that is to fix" 

You went to get thread and a needle to make a hem on the waistband of the pants and you put a few stitches in the hem to make it snug. 

"Done, I'll adjust it properly another day, now let's go, let's go"

First, you took a drive to a less busy area; you didn't want him to feel uncomfortable with the attention of people passing by on the road. 

"It's great that you can stand up and walk, do you think it's okay to try climbing up to that sign?" 

Curly: "Or course. I can do it" 

"Oh, someone is enthusiastic?" 

You laughed and got ready next to him to start jogging, he lagged behind for a few seconds but then took a few steps. 

You quickly returned when you heard he had fallen to help him get back on his feet. 

You repeated that action several times, but you got worried when he fell and his face hit the ground directly. 

"Hey, maybe jogging was too ambitious, we can walk through the forest here." 

He stood up with your help, head down, annoyed for not being able to do something he used to do every day a while ago. 

"You didn't hurt yourself, did you? "Let me see" 

You slowly removed the mask he was wearing to check it, and they were startled by the scream of a child, just as a mother with her child was passing by. 

Curly immediately turned to the other side so the child wouldn't have to see it while the woman gestured apologetically, carrying her son and quickly leaving the place. 

"They're gone now" you said, patting his shoulder. 

Curly: "I know... That i must look really bad... "

"Hey, don't think too much about it, come on, let's take a walk to clear your mind, okay?"

You took the sleeve of his jacket to pull him with you, delving into the forest and walking along the already marked path. 

He stood there watching as you held onto his clothes, and saw the prosthesis, how crude it was in shape, being made only to be functional and not aesthetic. 

I would like to hold her hand... 

He thought while still focused on your hand, and you turned to look at him when his prosthetic touched your forearm, strangely it felt like a caress. 

When he realized what he had done, he got nervous. 

Curly: "I'm sorry—I didn't mean to scare you." 

"No, no, no problem, I should have let you go. You must have felt really bad being pulled."

You said, smiling as you let go of his clothes, but that made him even more depressed. 

You continued walking until you felt a tug on your jacket, looking at the man in confusion. 

Curly: "...I have better balance if I hold onto you"

"Mm? Do you think you can keep up with me?"

You smiled with a hint of mischief as you walked slowly at first, and with each step, you increased your speed, making Curly follow you at the same pace, without letting go of your jacket. 

And within a few minutes, both were jogging in sync, your legs even moving in perfect harmony. 

You ran the entire forest trail until you returned to the starting point, both laughing, very excited about Curly's rapid progress. 

They took a break to drink some water and rest a bit, sitting on the hood of the car. 

Curly: "I missed this..." 

"Did you use to exercise a lot?"

Curly: "Yes, it was one of my hobbies, exercising, lifting weights, jogging, I had my own routine, it was nice."

"You were athletic too, mm, you sounded like the perfect man," you stretched before getting up.

He remained thinking about your words, sighing as he remembered that he would never be that man again.

Curly: "Yeah... someone cool, right?"

"Not for me. Routines aren't bad, but ugh they make me sick, perfect people, they seem like robots programmed to do the same thing until they die. Everything they do seems so good, they eat healthy, exercise, work, study, but it just ends up being a cycle because... they don't aspire to anything else, you know?" 

You shrugged as you opened the door of your car. 

"Because... what's the point of reaching the top if you're not going to keep climbing something higher?"

He felt that for a moment, his entire world had stopped; he could only hear the beating of his heart, and everything else was just silence. 

He opened his mouth to say something, but only a sigh escaped, lost in your silhouette before him, who only hoped you would get in the car so you could go home together. 

When you honked the horn, you brought him out of his trance. 

"Are you going to get in or are you going to run to home?" you asked, smiling. 

I knew well that you were capable of leaving it there, so he quickly climbed up next to your seat.

[dykedvonte]

One of my mutuals opinions is the "bro code" thing, that Curly is one of those guys who wouldn't care about the victim because the perpetrator is his friend and I'm really banging my head on the wall like that other anon. I've only played through the game once but Curly's behaviour/reactions etc read completely different from the "bro code" thing and I have to wonder if my mutual and I even played the same game.. like the constant digs at him from Jimmy, his body language in his face reveal and so on like you mentioned in your post. While this game is a little different obviously, it kind of reminded of a point in Alice Madness Returns that makes it very clear that Alice's pain blinded her to the abuse of the other children and her failure to act earlier because of it. Curly is guilty of a similar inaction but it doesn't change the fact he was a victim of Jimmy too. I don't think I can look at it any other way because both of these games have really stuck with me.

I genuinely think it really is the idea that people want a simple easy to blame problem and the idea that the only relatable victims of abuse are those that "surpass" it or do a lot to help others. When it comes to victims, especially those that don't fit the typical demographics, who either accidently perpetuate it, enable it or aren't ideal in some way shape or form, people jump to ignore what they went through as it's easier than dealing with those conflicting sentiments.

The bro-code conversation in Mouthwashing stems from a concept I generally dislike that there had to be something about Curly that made him meet or keep being friends with someone like Jimmy. I think people genuinely underestimate how many like decent and good people just know an asshole or are friends with someone who is really bad outside of their view/established dynamics. The game makes it clear none of the inaction against Jimmy is because of a lack of care, it is a lack of understanding from the privaleged postions they have as men to not have to worry about what Anya does/went through and the type of extremes men like Jimmy will go through to cover it up. They are all too preoccupied in their own strifes.

Another thing I see being oversaturated the idea that you have to be a freak, misanthrope or have a disorder to do the thing Jimmy does. The game is an escalation, it's a spiral that I don't see people comment on that Jimmy was not likely having the mood swings and episodes of rage/frustration we were seeing in the game. This is after they all start experiencing the worst moments in their lives that he got THAT openly bad. Of course, this is just my interpretation but much like in real life, people that go to extremes like that usually live mundane lives. It's a pressure cooker affect to where the stress made them pop. It's self inflicted but still the case.

I really think people need to be more willing to acknowledge that not everything needs to be an extreme or in black and white or easy to understand. It doesn't need to be happy or have an answer or solution, especially in the cases where the abused sadly helps perpetuate what they experience. It's not he should've known better from experience or shouldn't he have known what could've happened because victims tend to not like to think in matters of the worst. Not to mention, especially in cases of abuse where it feels so personally directed that you don't expect to happen to someone else.

[haemey]

I had a show that was mostly set on a lake. There was fog on the ground with blue lights to make it look like water. This dissipated after about 30 sec, but it's enough to set the scene. We had two wooden piers on wheels, one on either side of the stage, that could be moved in and out of the scene as needed. And one of the characters was a ferryman. He had a little boat, also on wheels, and one of those long sticks to push the boat along like a gondoliere. He would come in on one side of the stage, with some momentjm from bein pushed in by stagehands, then either move to the other side or stop in the middle for an aria or something and then get going again. We also had lights in the back that would move across to make it look like the landscape would pass by. I was able to watch one of those scenes from the audience and it looked so real!

(We also had two guys playing that ferryman character. One was really good at moving the boat, the other... was not. We were three girls who were supoosed to wait on the pier for the boat, get in, help turn the boat around, push off, then listen to him sing in the "middle of the lake" and then get off the boat on the other side. Most of this was no problem, but getting the boat to move again was difficult. The dude who wasn't as good at it regularly steered us towards the trench, or had problems moving the boat after it had come to stand. Once, one of the other girls had to get out and pull the boat to the pier (which, thankfully, got pushed in just a liiittle bit further than usual).)

I once did one where we had no props whatsoever, and basically no stage. We had the floorplan of the building we were in marked on the floor with black tape (it was a white-ish stone floor, we were performing in an old church that had been turned into a concert space). I played an old woman who walked with a stick. Except I had no stick. And we started the performance with all of us lying face down on the floor. So I had to learn to get up with aching joints and a non-existent stick. At one point, we had to touch the non-existent walls of our building. Afterwards, someone Inkne from the audience told me they had to do double takes all the time because they couldn't believe I held nothing. I am still immensly proud of my no-stick skills.

The one I'm working on right now (premiere is next week, whoooo) also has basically nothing on stage, except six chairs. At one point, I build a circle out of them around myself. A loose one. That I can't get out of. It's the cartoon "oh no I cannot get out of this prison where the bars are a meter apart oh noooo" thing and it's ridiculous and it's believable because it's symbolic and it's theatre.

If the performers believe something, the audience will, too.

If the performers don't believe in it, neither will the audience.

But if you do believe it, you can get away with so much bullshit, it's great.

genuinely, i think watching live theatre can improve your media literacy so much

like people who look at doctor who and are like 'lol the effects are so rubbish'

maybe watch a stage play where there's no backdrops and half the characters are played by the same three guys in different hats and maybe you will calm down

[katiekatdragon27]

Guys you don't understand how much I love these two. (Oh yeah, and Finn's there too)

Glisten: Awww~ Shrimpo, you remembered Shrimpo: B*tch I'm in LOVE with you, of course I REMEMBERED! Glisten: What!? Wait really?? This is very sudden wow! (You said you were straight?) Shrimpo: AAAAAAAAAA

Finn: (yapping) Shrimpo and Glisten: SHUT THE F*CK UP, FINN!! Shrimpo and Glisten: ... Shrimpo and Glisten: (kissing)

The first comic takes place before the two started dating. Shrimpo is really really really bad at expressing emotions other than anger and frustration, so anytime he tries to express anything, he just blurts out his feelings without thinking. Then he gets second-hand embarrassment lol. Glisten was pretty aware that Shrimpo liked him before, but he's pretending to be surprised to make Shrimpo "feel better" (also to mildly embarrass him lol).

Also, I think that Shrimpo and Glisten bonding over hating Finn is very based and true. They need that autistic man to SHUT UP/silly

I think Shrimpo and Finn are very cousin coded. Not close enough to be siblings but definitely got some familial genes going on imo (plz don't shoot me Shrimpbowl shippers🙏🙏🙏) Doesn't stop Shrimpo from being violent towards Finn tho, and Finn does nothing to deter it lol (he finds it funny). Also, Glisten throws no punches bc he doesn't want to get his hands dirty.

Finn: Sooooo?? How was the daaaate~ Finn: No need to be such a clam about it! Shrimpo: I'M SO KILLING YOU!

The second image takes place the day after this post lol. Shrimpo is recovering from a hangover covered in lipstick kisses and super conflicting emotions and Finn is NOT helping.

On the other end, I've been thinking about Shimmer a lot lol. So here is a doodle of her with her "sister aunt" Toodles, and Pebbles.

They all get along super well. In this pic, Toodles is like 12ish and Shimmer is 4 (but her weird biology made her age up to like 7 here). Pebble is pebble, that's all you need to know.

Also, I was in a horror-ish mood earlier so here are some Twisteds <33 (below cut cuz kinda scary):

I love you angst comfort. My sib pointed out while playing one day that Shrimpo looked traumatized as a Twisted, which like, fair, but it make me think.

Glisten: "They say you are not here anymore. But I think you are."

I had this silly idea that Twisted Shrimpo was infected by Dandy personally, and that whole conflict got Shrimpo's lower jaw ripped off. He is very violent and volatile, and very hard to calm down. But, when he runs into a twisting Glisten alone and scared, he comforts him (to the best of his ability).

Since Glisten is still able to be somewhat conscious, he realizes that the Twisteds are actually not completely gone like he originally thought, and it helps him keep his sanity longer, hoping for a way out for everyone.

Willpower is a crazy thing.

On the complete opposite note, I love you horrifying freak of ichor child.

Since Shimmer was made from the ichor itself with no sort of skeleton or solid foundation, her condition is very unstable. And the problem is that her body is affected by her emotions. On a bad day, she can suffer from lots of pain and her body literally melting away. That's when she hides out and waits for her body to stabilize again.

When she completely twists, her body completely falls apart, becoming a puddle of ichor on the ground. If she was an encounterable twisted, she would work like Sprout's puddle root things, but easier to maneuver around and avoid. Also, her antenna glow.

Mini yap session aside, I think I cooked on the art lol.

Anyways, the og images lol:

Have a good one pookies!

[black-occamy-arts-and-crafts]

I'm experimenting with different needles for embroidery recently and decided to make it everyone's problem, so here is:

Opinions on sewing needles nobody asked for by Occamy.

From left to right:

Typical nickel-plated sewing needle.

PONY black chenille needle without nickel, size 22

PONY gold plated chenille needle, size 24

DMC gold plated embroidery needle with round tip, size 22

No 1:

I probably inherited that one from my grandma's sewing kits or something. It's one of those needles you can get in any store, good for sewing absolutely anything. It's biggest issue is... I destroyed it with my fingers. It's probably something about the sweat or such, but you can probably see how satine and dark it is in the middle where it has contact with the skin. This causes the needle to go through fabric with more traction and is frankly just irritating. And it's the only reason why I started looking for an alternative, because - and it is true - I went through three needles just embroidering the wizard's tower. If it wasn't for my toxic skin I wouldn't even think of looking for a new needle 🫣

No.2

I got excited both by "no nickel" and how smexy goth it looks like. Unfortunately, it's satine and plainly uncomfortable to hold from the very start, so it was a big NO immediately. Pity, I really like how it looks.

No.3

Used it for about three days and I think it actually gives me some sort of allergies. That or it's a huge coincidence that my fingertips on my dominant right hand got suddenly very dry and scratchy. Other than that, the very top of the needle (above the eye) is surprisingly sharp and uncomfortable to push through the fabric in the long run. So, again, a no from me.

No.4

So far the best of them. It's pleasantly smooth and the top is a bit more rounded than no.3, so it's easier on the fingers. The only downside is the round tip - it is possible to embroider through jeans and canvas (as I do right now), but it's not comfortable. I'm already waiting for next delivery with a few more DMC variants to check on, so expect an update in a couple days.

It's worth noting that bigger eyes of 2, 3 and 4 make it much easier to thread them, but I personally don't bother much with that - I'm actually enjoying the challenge of threading needles xD

That's it, that's me rambling about needles. Nobody asked for this, but, you know.

I hope you relate 🫣

[thatbitchery]

Very few things in this world will do you more harm than living around radioactive material. Second on that list is being a pick me. For any group of people.

That face girls make when they realize being a feminist doesn't mean being a girls girl to me and I am NOT. *YouRe NoT a GirLs giRl* babygirl yes obviously. What I look like playing with you just because we have similar anatomy lol. I am a me girl. I'm loyal to my goals and my paycheck. I'm not a ride or die I'm a ride and the second this stops being good for me Imma kick you out of the car lol. My loyalty is to my goals and paycheck. I put the self in selfish.

Nice girls finish last. Pick me's don't even finish at all. They lose the game at the starting point. They lose even before participating in the game. We alll know how it goes down for girls that cater to the patriarchy and misogyny in the hopes that they will be spared and protected from it (hehe). Let's talk being a pick me for the girls. The other day I told you to stop being a pick me to your *roots* because your own people will turn on you for clout, like Jlo did with the Bronx and remember what India did to Priyanka Chopra when she was trying so hard to be liked by them and accepted and then she moved to Hollywood and decided fuck all that and now she's *ouR bRown QuEeN rEpResEntiNg Us So cLasSy*. See how they didn't try that crap with Aishwarya Rai? See how they don't do that with Lupita Nyongo but see how they drag Tyla? She's trying to stay true to her roots and her roots are going on talk shows to call her an industry plant. Pick Me ism never works. When you leave, leave. They already hate you for leaving you won't win them back. And being a pick me for the girls is not different at all.

This girl I know is really inspirational. She made it out of the ghetto on her own, and not like me that got some scholarship and naturally just grew into it- clawed her way out of the mud. Beaten things that would probably kill me. I look up to this lady like I'd look up to a god if I believed in one. She's everything you'd want in a business woman. Class. Beauty. Sophistication. The bank, all hers. The problem with her, is growing up without female support and therefore craving female validation to the point of sabotaging her own self. Pickmeism for the girls. So if she wants to do something but the girls don't approve she won't. I've been shopping with her once and she was eyeing this set of lingerie that she OBVIOUSLY wanted but acted like she didn't and I know it's because her girls wouldn't approve. So the tea is this guy in this other group is obviously head over heels for her. She's obviously into him. They make a great match. Even a blind person can see this was orchestrated by God himself. He asks her out. They go out. A set of annoyingly perfect people. Annoyingly. Gorgeous, classy, successful, aligned. She is gashing about him . He is gashing about her. Mentally I'm preparing for the wedding because obviously it will happen. A few weeks later one of his friends want to know what he did to upset her because she blew him off. Huh. I'm baffled and obviously I'll ask.

One of her friends want him.

😂

I'll say that again. One of her girls is into this man so she can't break *girl code*

😂🚮.

Im like please be serious right now. You are a twenty seven year old woman I need you to act like it. The man on your dreams was dropped on your doorstep wrapped in glittery pink ribbons and came out with your name the only thing he can say and you're blowing it off because one your your friends want him?? 😂. Girl that's what they call a high value man pls all of us want him be for real right now 😂. Every single man that will be worth you we will all want pls 😂. You are the kind of woman that can only rightfully get with a man every other woman wants are you blind 😂. Girl he's a six foot unit of a simp with daddy's money and patek fillipe and had you in Ralph Lauren on your first date and Greek godliness and THAT IS YOUR TYPE . Be serious right now and call that man 🙏 😂 and have us in yachts next summer are you joking. Like if you don't call him I will. Your type is the most desirable type on earth every man you want we will want what are you on about 😭. Every man that ends up with you is immediately high value because being with you makes them high value we will want them too what 😭. What kind of fuckery is this call that man rn and get your dream family.

She can't. She's a girls girl 🚮. I'm like okay so will you marry the least desirable gay man on earth or? Because every man has some girl into him will you just drop them? If he hurt you I will be the first to make you leave. If he even sleeps and dreams that he has a dream where he is dreaming that he's dreaming of hurting one cell in your body I will personally excavate you from his space. He is not. He worships you. I have heard this man talk about you. I have seen the way he treats you. I have seen how much you like him. You have similar goals and similar values. You are who we pray to be. You are our vision board do you not get this.

She won't. She won't hurt her girl.

Well our brother in Christ is- like I said- annoyingly desirable so after asking and asking and trying to get with her he gets- get this- with one of her girls. Not even the one that *wanted him* lol. A rich girl heir that knows to play this hypergamy game and obviously people go where they were wanted- last night they got *engaged*. They are not friend groups that I'm really immersed in so I don't really care. My girl calls me crying because she was *betrayed* 😂. I hang up after she gets three sentences in because what fuckery is this? Oh no you swam and now there's water on your skin. If it isn't the consequences of my own actions. For some reason I always expect the people that have had the hardest lives to understand human nature the best and be the most street smart and I hate how often I get disappointed. As a business woman do you really not know your loss is someone's gain. Be for fucking real with me right now. You got played by some girl in the game that YOU chose to engage in and now you're shocked? It's a game someone has to win and you fumbled your chances, go home. So anyway *her girls* created a WhatsApp group to plan the wedding and didn't include her because she overreacted to the news and she should be happy for her bestie because she's a girls girl 😂. Not very girls girl of her to feel betrayed 😔✋.

The feminine is the most apex of predators. At some point you have to realize yes men are bad but women are just plain malicious. At some point you have to realize and accept that human beings are animals and females have a higher chance of survival despite being the weaker sex. Like one of these days you need to learn to connect the dots please. Getting played by a man I can accept it's a completely different game and just by existence we are two different types of players but ma please. Pleaseeee. Being played by men hurts because innately the playing field is not level but female to female I will be laughing at you, what's your excuse 😂.

The reason women like Hailey Bieber will always win in this happiness thing and Selena Gomez will always lose is the level of pickmeism. WhO iS tHe BiLLiOnAiRe who had a disease highly linked to stress. Who is always depressed. Who seems more pathetic. Who has the stronger name. Who, pray I ask, is always yapping about being in pain. EXACTLY. The end of Taylor Swift's pickmeism marked the beginning of Taylor Swift as a powerhouse and marked her *I'm the Music Industry* era. And she has never been a pick me for men has she? Naomi Campbell and Tyra Banks have never tried to be relatable so they go down queens of the runway how is that going for Kendall? Gigi Hadid is also a nepo baby but does she try to act relatable? Which one gets dragged more?

One of these days you have to understand being a pick me for women is still being a pick me and only works when you're an underdog. Once you make it they will tear you apart because women are more competitive than men are and naturally are worse predators than men ever will even dream of being. Men love each other , remember that one trend where they were being asked if they would rather snitch on their homeboys or cheat on their literal wives and they chose cheating on their wives? Because men needed to be in herds to hunt. Women can survive solo they don't rely on community that much so we can tear each other apart with zero to low consequences to ourselves. If men were non communal and selfish they would've been wiped out by the other predators, women will win a literal lion over by being motherly we literally don't need anybody to survive so we can tear each other apart with no consequences. Women are vicious, please. Seriously vicious, have you seen your MOTHER. The woman that BIRTHED you. How she treats you. Your own mother that you are not in competition with. If there's no random girl hating on you it's because you're ugly it's really that easy. You're ugly and you're not worth competing against so they can score humanity points by being kind to you. Bad bitches have opps. When you don't know who hates you and you're a bad bitch look out, they're snaking under the covers. You do it too it's not like you're holy. A woman's only competition is other women. Not men. We don't compete with men it's useless. We are our only worthy opponents so we tear each other apart for sport. Do you not know what an apex predator means?? Like , how long have you been alive? Is this your first interaction with other women?? The reason movements like feminism and 4B and the rest don't really take off en masse is women destroy each other for fun. Men do it for survival we do it for sport. That is why we have to biologically be nurturing, so we don't completely wipe out this species.

Wtf is a girls girl. Yes girls support girls between a girl and a man I don't care who is right I'm always on the girls side, but woman to woman pls. Woman to man? Idc right or wrong she is right he's wrong women are always right men are always wrong this is the law everyone that thinks otherwise should get shot in the head. Woman to woman though? No. I know you, because I know me. And I pick me always.

[seimsisk]

watching this interview with Snowden was really uncomfortable as a Latin American. Because like, I supported him wholeheartedly and I was very glad that there were people like him speaking against the bundle of indefensible crimes that NSA is. But then I watched this interview and look, not only he insists that the people committing these crimes have good intentions, but he also says that the problem is that the surveillance apparatus is being turned against the American people rather than foreign threats. Now ofc a country surveiling its own people is bad, but as a non-American I was very unhappy to be thrown under the bus like that. I'm pretty sure surveiling other countries' civilians is also bad.