#if someone has those terms blocked

[dontwanderoff]

there really is something to be said about the doctor having that paralleling and level playing field with a villain of an ep and what that brings to their characterisation. i’m thinking how the doctor barely blinks at half the things she goes against now, excluding her approach with daleks (’i’m the one who beats the daleks’) and cybermen (’i will not lose anyone else to that’), and how her sense of identity is shaken w/ the timeless child plot. i’m thinking a villain in the vein of rosanna that can make the doctor confront where she’s ended up. i’m thinking how great that conversation is and how up until rosanna forgot isabella’s name, the doctor was mostly going along with it. like,,,,,, he had drawn a line, he had this place that he decided was indicative of what was acceptable. i’m thinking not a lot else very specifically currently, but there are certainly vibes in how this sorta story/use of a villain in a similar manner for thirteen has potential

[prometheanglory]

im supposed to be working on comms and answering asks and dojng hw but my brain has fallen out and im back to melting on the floor abt that lounge singer + deadbeat song writer au again

[yourlocallosernamedgreenookie]

enough.

[fingertipsmp3]

Do you ever see something and think ‘wow, I’m a people-pleaser, but not that much’

[h0rnyauth0r]

mild enemies to lovers and a there’s only one bed here trope. with ghost. those are my only thoughts. (also, i apologize for not posting. i’ve been going through a lot :/)

word count: 2.7k

minors dni, thank you

fem reader, and all of my other usual tws.

the wind whistles loudly in your ears, a heavy snowstorm having blocked off your vision. it’s freezing, boots and heavy coat only able to provide a minimum amount of comfort as you travel through the deep snow.

you can hardly see. not only that, but the snow makes every single tree and pile around you look the same as the last. you’re not sure how long you’ve been traveling for, having been separated from your team.

hope begins to bubble up in your stomach when you notice a small shack in the midst of darkened trees, no lights present and a seemingly better shelter than the outside.

your footsteps feel heavy as you approach it, a certain level of anxiety making you rethink the choice for just a moment. but it’s unlikely that anyone would’ve found this, even after hours of walking outside it still seems abandoned.

your radio had been lost long ago, falling out of your hands and being lost in the midst of piles of snow. you wanted so badly to call out for someone, anyone to keep you company as you pull the door open.

it seems empty at first. until your body is thrown onto the ground with a harsh thud and you groan out in pain. there’s a knife held to your neck as you lock eyes with- your lieutenant?

you’re confused now, noticing the way he grunts and moves away from you. eyebrows furrowed in confusion as you close the door behind you, noticing the smallest fire ever surrounded by spare stones.

you didn’t realize that anyone else was separated from the group, noting the way he faces away from you and opts to pretend as if you’re not there. you’ve almost forgotten that you’re not on good terms with the lieutenant, who seemingly hates you.

you butt heads often, both hardheaded people who won’t back down. eventually the arguments became too much for captain price, who you recall threatening to discharge both of you if you keep it up.

it had been a few weeks since your last interaction, a small argument that’d resulted in your mission failing. to say you’d been reprimanded was an understatement, ghost was furious with you.

that was when he began to ignore you, not that you minded. now, though, it’s hard to ignore him when you notice the heavy breaths escaping his lips and the way he keeps a steady grip on his side.

your eyebrows raise, suddenly becoming aware of the blood that has spilled onto the floor in small areas. your eyes fall onto the small medical supplies left on a bloody piece of fabric, seemingly unused.

“you got hurt?” your voice comes out softer than you’d anticipated, hearing him grunt out a ‘yes’ as he sits with his back against one of the walls of the shack.

he lifts his gloved hand from the wound, and you see that there’s a bullet wound on the right side of his waist. you quickly approach him and sit down in front of him, pulling out your medical supplies.

when you pull out the proper materials, you give him a look. “wanna lift your shirt?” you ask, hearing him huff in an annoyed manner.

he hesitantly listens to you, untucking his shirt and lifting it up to reveal the wound. you wince when you look at it, noticing that the bullet is still in his skin. you grab onto the tweezers from your medical pack, leaning down and watching closely as you try to gently take the bullet out.

he groans out quietly as you pick the pieces out, noticing the bleeding begin to pick up. you turn to your right and grasp onto a piece of gauze, looking up at him.

“this is going to hurt.”

he nods, watching as you stuff the wound with some of the gauze. he winces, fingers digging into the wooden frames at the bottom of the wall behind him.

you continue cleaning and bandaging the wound, eventually being finished. looking up, you notice his eyes already looking at you. you look away and decide to stand up and stretch out a little.

after yawning, you look down at him. “you need to get some rest. i can watch out tonight.” you say, watching him shake his head.

“i don’t know if you’ve noticed, but there’s only one bed here. you can take it.”

you look over towards where his finger points, immediately becoming flustered. there is only one bed. and it’s small. you’re not sure how either of you will get rest with the circumstances.

you try to think about how the night can go, cheeks heating up at the thought of sharing a bed with him. “w-we could potentially share a bed. it could be an efficient way for us to keep warm. you’ve lost a lot of blood so your temperature regulation isn’t going to work properly.”

you know he’s likely to say no, watching the way that his eyes look between you and the bed several times. but to your unsuspecting self’s surprise, he begins nodding his head.

you nod back at him, looking to the tiny fire that seems to be slowly going out. “did you eat anything?” you ask, hoping that you don’t sound like you care all that much.

he shakes his head, and you take off the bag that had been placed on your shoulders. you know he was probably too busy concerned with his wound to think about food, but luckily you’ve got just enough rations for the two of you.

after you’ve eaten, the fire is almost out and ghost is adding whatever he can to keep it going. but you’re both tired, and soon enough that small fire isn’t going to suffice.

that’s when you both begin to take off the bulk of your gear, setting it down close to the bed in case you need to leave in a hurry. you notice the way he decides to keep a knife and his pistol ready, appreciating the small gesture.

neither of you speak as you both climb into the small bed, eyes slamming shut at the feeling of his body pressed against yours. you decide to try your best to ignore the way that your heart rate picks up and the way you feel flushed.

“you’re stiff.”

his voice is right in your ear, sending shivers down your spine. fuck, he’s hot. you try to relax, but jump when his arm softly lays around your waist. it’s even harder when he pushes up against you more, his body mildly shaking from the cold.

you inhale sharply. “i’m trying to relax, i’m just having some trouble.” your words are shaky as you speak, biting down on your lip when his hips bump into your ass a little.

after a few minutes, you are able to calm yourself. but his body hasn’t stopped shaking, and you can feel it intensely. he’s freezing and you can’t really do much about it other than hope that your body can warm him up even a tiny bit.

“are you asleep?” you ask in a whisper, feeling dumb for asking. he obviously isn’t with the way his body is shaking.

“nope.”

you decide to turn your body so you’re facing him, becoming flustered with the close proximity. his eyes look into yours as you slowly move your hands onto his body, feeling him back away for a moment before leaning back in.

your hands rub against his coat, hoping to warm him up even a little bit. for a few minutes, his breath is all you can hear as your hands roam across his chest to try to help him.

there isn’t much more you can do though, especially once his hands grip onto yours to stop your movements. when you look up at him, that’s when you see the look in his eyes.

you’re not good at reading him, but you can clearly see when lust fills someone’s features. his eyes are lidded, filled with emotion you’ve never seen him direct towards a single soul.

you wish his mask was off, wanting so badly to know what’s underneath. you want to kiss him until you pass out, but you’ve never accepted that until now. the thought flusters you even more, looking down at where his hands grip your own.

he lets go of you, opting to use his hand to raise your chin up. “close your eyes for me.” he’s barely speaking as he says that, and you can feel his hot breath escape through the fabric of his mask.

your eyes flutter shut, blackness taking over your previous vision. after some brief sounds of fabric being moved around, you feel a featherlight pressure on your lips.

he’s kissing you, you realize. holy fuck. you don’t hesitate for a second to kiss him back, lips moving against his own as your hands find their way to his hair.

you notice that his mask is fully off, opting to keep your eyes closed tightly. there’s no way you could betray his trust now, not when he’s kissing you so good.

it’s almost dizzying the way his lips and tongue devour your mouth, sending a burning desire into your groin. your thighs rub together for a moment as you struggle to feel any sort of friction.

you find your fingers gently tugging on his hair, the force of his movements becoming more aggressive as his hands dig into your waist. one hand slowly slides down your body, reaching your crotch as he slips a hand into your pants and rubs you through your panties.

you moan against his lips, biting down on his lip for a moment. his fingers brush against your clit perfectly, making your hips buck forward and you let out small noises.

despite how small the movements are, you can still feel an orgasm building up in your core as you grind against his hand. it’s almost embarrassing how desperate you are for him.

his lips pull away from yours as his fingers lift out of your pants. you decide that it’s probably best if you move your hands away from his head, hands falling down onto his chest.

you keep your eyes closed but listen to the sound of him pulling his mask back on, feeling disappointed but understanding where he’s coming from.

“you have no idea how badly i’ve been wanting that.”

the sentence makes you feel flushed, face turning hot as your eyes open and you see his staring down at your now swollen lips. you smile the smallest amount as his words really go through your head, not realizing just how much you didn’t hate him.

“i’ve been wanting that and more, for a while now.” you say, noticing the way his eyes meet yours and show everything he hasn’t said. you want him so bad now, fingernails digging into the coat he’s wearing.

neither of you say anything as he lifts your body up with ease, your hips planting on his own as he lays underneath you. your breathing picks up as your hips push against his, feeling a large bulge brush against your aching clit.

his hands grab onto your hips as you grind into him, head leaning back as you let out small moans. your eyes clench shut as you move against him faster, biting your bottom lip hard.

you can’t handle just this anymore after a few minutes, looking back down at him and quickly deciding that you’re going to fuck him now. you want to ride his cock until he fills you up with his cum, until you’ve milked him dry.

“you want this, right?” you ask, noticing the way he nods quickly.

you decide to pull your pants off, needing to lean against him during the process. cool air hits your bottom half immediately, a shiver roaring up your spine.

you decide to let him keep warm by not forcing his pants off completely, unzipping his pants and sliding them down just enough to free his cock. but your eyes are wide when you actually see it, not expecting him to be packing so much.

you slide your panties to the side as you grind against his bare cock, eyes meeting with his as you bite your lip. your pussy starts to drip from the stimulation, and that’s when you decide to carefully sit on his cock.

the stretch of his cock filling you up makes you moan loudly, breathing strained as the tip hits against your cervix. your pussy is burning a little from his size, and you stay still to adjust to it.

you look down at him and notice the way his eyes look over you, falling down to where your bodies meet. his hands dig further into your skin as he stares, before he’s looking back at you.

“go on now, pretty. ride me.”

his voice has you clenching against him as you start to grind against him, his cock slowly sliding in and out and hitting your insides perfectly. the moans you let out are quiet as you pick up the pace, the tiny bed creaking beneath the two of you.

as your hips rock against him, he starts thrusting up into you too. the action makes your mouth fall open, eyes shutting as you move faster. your hands move to his chest, trying to speed up even more as you feel yourself getting closer to your peak.

one of his hands slides down to where you’re connected, slowly circling your clit and pressing down hard. your walls spasm against him, making him groan out quietly.

“fuck, you’re such a good girl.”

his hips slam up into you faster now, the force causing a squelching noise as you feel your orgasm brushing up quickly. once it hits, you loudly call out his name as your body shakes and convulses against his own.

“gonna fill you up.” his voice says in a strained tone, and you look down at him and force his mask up. his movements halter but you smash your lips into his in the moment, his thrusts beginning to speed up more.

at this point, his pace is almost inhuman as he fucks into you with such a force that you’re moaning out against his lips from overstimulation. he bites down on your bottom lip and tugs hard, making you cry out and pull back.

tears begin streaming down your face, so much happening at once to the point where you feel as though you can barely handle it. his cock is slamming against yout cervix repeatedly, sending a sharp pain up your spine that feels so very good in the moment.

“you’re so fucking good.”

you feel his nails break open your skin as you feel his cum fill you up, hips slapping against you as they stutter roughly. his whole body is shaking from the force of his orgasm, the hottest grunts escaping from his mouth.

you breathe in heavily, eyes looking down at his lips in admiration as you lift your hips up and unsheathe his cock from your overstimulated pussy. you notice that his pants are wet from your interaction, quickly tucking his cock away to prevent him from getting too cold.

“i enjoyed that a lot.” you say, moving your panties back into place and feeling his cum ooze out slowly. the thought of his cum inside of you makes you feel needy again as you put your pants back on.

you yawn louder than anticipated, hearing him let out a puff of air. it’s probably the closest thing to a laugh you’ll hear from him. your eyes fall onto his, noticing the way he pulled his mask back down and lays there with his pants still unzipped.

“i’ve been wanting you for a long time, y’know.”

you flush under his gaze when he says those words, deciding to climb into the tiny bed and lay as close to him as you possibly can. his body feels warm now, heart beating quickly as you rest your head on his chest.

his hands find their way in your hair, running through it gently as you feel yourself grow more and more tired. you’re so out of it after fucking him that you can barely think.

“simon… i think i’m in love with you.”

the words leave your mouth just as you fall asleep, completely unaware of the fact that they were said aloud and not just a thought. he hears you, but doesn’t respond.

his response is shown in the morning, when your bodies are clung to one another and curled up together. the cold doesn’t seem so bad after all that has happened anyways.

*****

also, thank you for 200+ followers! i appreciate every single one of you <3

[the-final-sif]

Honestly, I think this past week with Elon Musk just kinda goes to show how much better Tumblr's longer, slower game is.

Like, take revenue sources. Hosting is expensive and those bills do need to get paid to have a functional website. So how do you go about earning money as a website in an ethical manner without locking out users that can't pay?

It's true that tumblr struggles a lot with advertisers, it has for a long time. Ads are the number one way that most websites earn money from their users, so that's a big problem.

So what did tumblr do? Tumblr made a really smart pivot when it realized that it's userbase wasn't a good market for ads. It looked to establish a more direct payment model and look to it's users as consumers rather than products.

The ad-free for 5$ a month is honestly a sound model. Sure, you can always use ad-block, but you can also chose to offer payment to the site directly if you have the ability to do so. Allowing users to blaze posts is also a really good choice because it removes the part of advertisements that is the real problem (the ad targeting and privacy invasion). Allowing users to operate patron like blogs or tip bloggers is also a great secondary revenue source that works well for both the site and the bloggers.

Tumblr "gifts" are one of the best ideas they've had. 3$ to send your friend some crabs for 24 hours? Hell yeah. It's tiny little bonuses that you absolutely don't need, but you can use to provide a little bit of joy to someone else for a small price. By and large, these features are all reasonably priced, and allow tumblr to get revenue without locking their users out of important features or selling user data. This is honestly one of the ways that I can see the internet moving forward in a much healthier direction.

Compare the reaction to tumblr's "ad-free for 5$" model to the reaction to Elon Musk's "checkmark for 8$" model. While your mileage may vary, my experience with the ad-free offer was a generally positive reaction from the userbase. Some people were neutral or dismissive, but there certainly wasn't outrage.

Meanwhile, Elon's dumbass idea has drawn massive outrage, and had to be delayed because it was a legitimate threat to US elections. Because Elon isn't selling an ad free optional experience, he's selling the ability to participate on the platform, impersonate other people, and effectively cutting off a huge amount of the userbase. That's a big part of why there's been so much outrage and such a mass exodus.

Since Automattic took over, they've been slowly working to make genuinely good changes that both maintain what makes tumblr work, while improving existing issues with the site and opening up better options in the future. While I certainly have criticism of them, it's a hell of a better path to go down then whatever the hell's been going on at Twitter and Facebook's dumb choices.

We'll see how all of this plays out, but I've got a feeling that tumblr's dedication to maintaining functionality & working on repairing it's relationship to it's userbase will play out better in the long term. Who knows though.

[littlemisshaveitall]

Season Secrets: July 31st

If you don’t stick to you boundaries , you will suffer - it’s not a warning , it’s a promise.

This has been said and will continue to be said because it needs to be engraved. This isn’t a dating hacks post , telling you to pretend to be busy so as to put up a front, no baby, this is a post to tell you regardless of what you are doing your boundaries come first . Jobless or not ( but do invest in a hobby ,love, you can’t have time boundaries then do nothing with your time)

Small Boundaries

In my opinion, the most significant boundaries are the small ones because If you break those for someone , they will see you for what you are and they won’t respect you in the long run. If you sleep at 10 and that man calls at 10:30 , what are you doing picking up the phone ? You should be asleep with your phone on DND. He knows you sleep early but chooses to call late without even a text- it’s a no from me. If you workout at 5PM but your girl calls at 4:45 telling you to take her out and you drop all your plans for her right there , then I have to break it to you hun, you not prioritizing yourself and your plans (in terms of bettering yourself because disclaimer, you can’t always be too busy for your partner, check yourself there.) is not attractive and they know it. Partners, especially if your messing with a person who’s been ‘around the block’, can sense it when you crave their validation so much that you don’t respect yourself and your time and they will use it to their advantage. So my love , the next time you’re in the middle of a writing an important essay and they call and ask if you’re free, say no and give them a time that works for you. If plans aren't made in advance they should not get in the way of any plans you had made before.

How to respond in such situations.

At the end of the day , communication is always best and I’m about to show you how to use it.

Situation 1 : Calling after your bedtime.

- Tell them that you don’t pick up calls past a certain time and if they want to reach you , they should call before then.

- If it’s about to reach your bedtime and you are still on the call , please you know better , sleep. The only exception here, is if you know you have no obligations the next day or if your partner is crying on the phone about something ( we can’t lose empathy trying not to get played but do be wary. People out here really know how to tug at your heart strings as a means of manipulation). From experience, if you consistently extend the calls, you will always end up extending the calls and they will know you prioritize their presence instead of your discipline and again , it’s not a good look but also you’re letting yourself down. It’s always the little things.

Situation 2: Asking you out when you’re busy.

- Tell them you are busy , you don’t have to tell them with what if you don’t want to , then include a time in which you will be free .

It’s sounds a little like this: ‘Damn , I’m not really free right now but I will be in the next 30 mins or so . Can I call you back at that time’

In general, it’s okay to be busy but it’s not okay to not put in effort for the person you like hence always give a time in which you’re free or best case scenario, decide a time between you and your partner specifically for the both of you and stick to it.

Big boundaries.

It goes without saying that , these are more than important and the good thing about these, they aren’t hard to miss.

One of my big boundaries is that I would never date someone who’s favourite everyday past time is partying/alcohol/drugs/gambling. I’ve been there and it’s not fun at all.

The issue: They will rarely pick you when it comes down to it. If they do, I’m happy for you but loves , how sure are we that the person you fancy would stop for you. This will lead to more problems along the way because the little money they get ,will be recklessly spent funding the addiction they claim they don’t have or the little time you have with them will be spent with you trying to bond with someone who’s buzzed out of their mind . I don’t know about you but I’m a sucker for attention so that’s definitely a no for me.

This is one of my most significant boundaries, and I used to tell myself that it was fine. I made rules such as "if you don’t do it in front of me it’s okay" or "if you only do it in certain places it’s okay". It wasn’t okay and I’ve learnt that. At the end of the day , they still do it and it will bother you , whether it’s the fact that you can smell it, their decreased attention span, or the anxiety you feel. Compromising to stay with them will lead to resentment and the thought that says "it’s okay" is a liar. So whatever your major boundaries are , honor them.

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

When talking about boundaries, it is also important to talk about grace. Sometimes people genuinely don’t know (unless of course you directly told them). I was talking to a friend of mine about red flags within both of us and she said , ‘ a big one for us would be to limit our saltiness when we hear what we don’t want to hear or when our partners don’t respond in the way we want them to. Let say , you tell them about how someone told you got bigger but they don’t see anything wrong with it because to them it’s just a story like any other day since they don’t understand or know your insecurities surrounding your size. We might have a right to get mad of course but not when they don’t understand. Obviously it’s great having someone who always knows what to do or say without you voicing it but they can’t read your mind so you have to give them the grace to learn how to treat you well.’

It is so important to give your partner grace because they give you grace as well but don’t let yourself become a door mat in the process.

‘Once you see that someone would sacrifice for you is when you sacrifice for them’ - My Mother

Everything is always circumstantial but circumstances are rarely consistent. Do with that as you will

Love ,

Quesa

[morayoflight]

JADE BUTLER SIGN ME UP-

Okay but listen. It’s only a matter of time before reader and Jade start pinning for one another. But how would Jade react to some rando trying to court reader during a fancy party? Like trying to ask them to dance when they’re clearly not comfortable?

Ofc feel free to ignore this but thank you for reading :))

Hi anon! Thank you for requesting this! Somehow, I ended up writing an entire fic instead of just headcanons. I hope that's okay TvT

Butler!Jade reacts to someone trying to court the reader

*Gender-neutral terms for reader are used

Synopsis: You attend an acquaintance's party with Jade and someone happens to have their eye on you

Word Count: 1437

----

Jade may be your butler, but he also performs a multitude of roles for you-- one of them is being your chaperone to parties such as this. 

If you were allowed to be honest, you weren't excited about this party at all. It was something you had to attend out of courtesy, trying to keep up the family image, yada yada. 

So, you chose to loiter in corners with Jade instead. 

Jade, with that ever so pleasant smile of his, follows you everywhere like a dog leashed to his master. He would, from time to time, lean down and whisper to you the names and titles of the other lords and ladies who wished to extend their greetings. 

You couldn't care less about those people, so you never remembered them. Jade knew this day would come, so he took it upon himself to memorize basic information on every single person you've met in the parties you've attended in the past. 

Honestly, where would you be without him? 

Jade practically knew everyone in the room, and that is why his vision dimmed when he spotted a certain lord walking towards your direction 

"Ah, a wonderful evening, (Name)! It is a fancy meeting you here," the man says, taking your hand to place a kiss on top of it. You were laughing albeit nervously, trying to be polite, but Jade caught the way your body tensed up a bit. 

Oh, how badly he wanted to drag you away from this situation. Alas, he was just a mere butler and could not risk tarnishing your honor all because of a servant's misconduct. He does value his reputation only for your sake. 

Instead, his smile grew wider when the lord sent a nonchalant nod of acknowledgement to his direction. It was the kind of close-eyed smile he did whenever he was cooking up sinister plans in his head. 

The lord in question was none other than a bothersome man who has been relentlessly pursuing you ever since that one party weeks ago. 

He has sent you many things. From flowers, to lengthy romantic letters and lavish gifts, Jade has seen them all and he could not be more than happy enough to throw them out for you everytime you exhaled a big sigh and asked for them to be removed.

"Have you been standing here like a wallflower all this time? Have some fun! Here, why don't we dance?" the lord offers a hand to you, clearly expecting that you would indulge his invitation. 

Instead, you stared at his open palm, and fiddled with your own hands. 

"L-look, my lord, I am terribly sorry but I don't think I can--" 

"Nonsense! It has been so long since I last gazed upon you. You will grant me the honor of spending a fraction of your night with you, yes?" He completely cut your words off, grabbing your hand and prepared to drag you off to the dance floor. Now this was exactly your problem with this suitor, he is most assertive and inconsiderate.

Your head immediately spun to Jade, eyes screaming for help. 

How. dare. he. 

This abominable swine. 

This display of utter disrespect to his master set Jade's blood at boiling point that with one swift movement, he came between you and this poor excuse of a gentleman. 

Jade's gentle hands are on your shoulders, his back facing the man as he blocks you from eyesight with his tall stature. Looking back at the young lord, Jade smiles again. 

"I apologize, my lord. My master has been feeling unwell." 

The man raises an eyebrow suspiciously as he tries to peer at you past your butler. 

"They seemed fine to-" 

"My goodness! (Name), you are looking a bit flushed. Here, let me check your temperature," Jade exclaims, his voice laced with worry and concern, and maybe a bit of exaggerated dramatization. But it was enough to baffle the man who staggered back in confusion. 

Jade removes a glove and places his bare hand on your forehead, giving him an excuse to lean down and come closer to your ear. He starts whispering abruptly. 

"Pretend to faint. Now, if you will excuse me," 

Before you could even ask him what was going on, Jade discreetly trips your leg with his foot and you find yourself falling to his arms. Remembering what he'd whispered, you close your eyes shut and pray that your acting was just as good as your butler's. 

"(Name)! A-are they alright?" The man frantically shuffles closer, but Jade heaves you into his arms and faces the other direction before the young lord could even touch you. 

"They will be fine, my lord. Perhaps the party’s atmosphere is starting to weigh down on them. I truly do apologize, but I need to take my master home. I worry for their health, you see" Jade sighed, his eyebrows creased with pretend concern as he cradles you closer to his chest. 

The man coughs and straightens his back. 

"O-of course! I value their health too. Yes, do see to it that they are returned home safely. Then, I shall head back.”

Oh, how unreliable, Jade thought. This young lord could only pretend to be dignified but can do no good for his master. He did not even ask to come and escort them out. If he was so worried, he would at least want to send off the person he is so romantically interested in?

As expected of a failed, incompetent gentleman. 

Men who are shaken by the slightest of troubles do not deserve a place in his master's life or heart. They would not be able to protect such a precious existence.

“Ah, before I forget…” Jade starts, halting the lord’s receding steps.

He meets the man’s eyes with a cold, unfeeling stare. Jade’s heterochromatic irises tore through the young lord’s gaze. A predator assessing its prey, preparing to lunge. It was enough to send shivers down the latter’s spine.  

“My master possesses a kind and fragile heart, and I often find this to be a weakness but–”

Jade pauses, feeling a slight pinch in the middle of his stomach just where your hand rested. How fond, he thought, sending you a second-long loving gaze before fixating an even more hostile glare at the young lord. His soul must certainly be terrified now.

“Allow me to say this in their stead. They would very much prefer it if you kept your distance from them. No, in fact, this is my suggestion: please refrain from contacting my master for the rest of your life, for your sake.”

Satisfied with himself, Jade smiles and politely bids the stunned, trembling lord a good night. 

Indeed, it was always fun disposing of hindrances for his master.

It was not only until the coast was clear, and you had been placed safely inside the carriage did you crack one eyelid open. 

Jade  claps his hands, his smile a pleasant one. 

"Splendid acting, my lady/lord." 

You rolled your eyes and shifted in your seat. 

"Please, I merely pretended to faint. It was you who did all the work, so thank you, Jade." 

"I am humbled by your words," Jade places a hand to his chest, bowing his head slightly. 

But still, so much for a party. You wanted to wait for dessert and it was the entire reason why you stuck around for so long. How disappointing. 

Jade, ever so attentive, sensed your low spirits and cleared his throat to get your attention. 

"For tonight's dessert after dinner, we will have (favorite dessert)." 

It was exactly the thing you have been waiting for at the party. You stared at him in surprise and started laughing. 

"Ah, really. What will I do without such a competent butler? This is why I like you, Jade!" 

Your butler smiled, not hiding how pleased he is by your sentiment. 

"I like you too." 

"What?" Your laughter died in a split-second and you stared at Jade with your eyes too wide and mouth agape.

Jade snickered. Mischief glimmered in his eyes at the sight of his lovely master looking like a deer caught in headlights. He does enjoy teasing you once in a while. 

He certainly wasn't taking advantage of the fact that you were so forgiving and lenient towards him. 

"For being an easily pleased and easily flustered master, that is. Fufu. I do enjoy simple people." 

Heat traveled up from your neck to your ears. Out of embarrassment or anger, you didn't know. But you swore you looked as red as a tomato right now. 

"Jade!" 

But maybe, just maybe, your loyal butler meant every single word after all.

[i-am-the-avatar-of-idiocy]

i hope u are having a nice day! can i request reaction of the brothers when MC does a painting of them?

I’m having a great day thanks! I hope you are too!

part 1- brother. Part 2- side characters

Brothers reaction to MC’s painting of them

Lucifer

He was impressed when he saw a semi-realistic bust of him on a canvas in your room on an easel

it was incredible, the colours melting together and a stunning blend between colours

he saw you asleep on your bed too- clearly painting that was taxing on you

he thinks it’s amazing and that you should receive recognition for your art

he tells you that it is incredible when you wake up, and gives you a snack and glass of water

He asks to have it, and if you say yes he will put it on his wall, and he takes lots of pride in it

Mammon

Mammon barges into your room in the early hours of the morning and sees you slumped over

he thinks you might be asleep, so he creeps to you but you call out his name and ask him why he’s being quiet for once

he blushes at that but somehow chokes out a snarky response

he then sees you putting brushstrokes on a canvas, the tone of his smooth skin in the light on your brush

you blend it onto his cheek, completing the illusion of flesh

but then after a moment of shocked silence at your skill

he stutters out ‘of- of course you’d want to draw the Great Mammon’

you giggle at this and tell him it’s his, for free

His face lights up and he tells you you are talented for a human

Leviathan

He wakes up from a night in your room watching anime to see you putting colour onto a portrait of him

he is in awe, and sits watching you for a while

he has never felt as beautiful as he did in that moment

he usually thinks himself as ugly, but in this… he is stunning. Is this how you see him?

his face is red at the thought that someone like you views him in the way you paint it

he cracks a smile and tells you that ‘it’s amazing. But I’d expect no less of my Henry’

he loves it and admired it often, especially when he is in a rut of self-hate

Satan

He compliments you when you present it to him

‘I must say this is an excellent piece of me, I’m impressed MC. You’re incredibly talented’

this is said with a growing grin on his face

he seems so different to the sketch of lucifer you did. You only drew him, does that mean you value him more. Unlike some of the others

he is enamoured by the colour choice and how you make him look ethereal

Asmodeus

He squeals in delight at the sight of a painting of a photo he posted to his devilgram

’MC! You never told me you were an artist! I swear you are the only one who can capture my beauty in all its glory!’

he will hang it up in an elaborate frame and boast to those he meets in there

and the brothers that you chose to paint him

he will constantly compliment your skills and commission you

he also finds it therapeutic to watch you paint, and could watch for hours on end

Beelzebub

Beel thinks it’s amazing, being stoic as he is, you didn’t expect as big of a reaction as you got

he dropped his food, his mouth fell open and his eyes opened

‘you drew that? Of me? Oh my Diavolo MC that’s beautiful’

he usually doesn’t speak so emotionally, but hey what he’s saying is good so you’ll take it!

he will ask to see your over pieces!

he thinks you can be a professional and takes a photo to post to his Devilgram, and to show his fangol team

Belphegor

When he falls asleep, you take out a pad and begin to sketch his calm face

you would do it when he’s awake but he always looks so… menacing when he’s awake

You occasionally glance up to him as you block in colours and begin to render (I don’t know if that’s the term for on like real paint because I do mainly digital now)

when his eyes flutter awake, he sees you with your tongue slightly protruding from your lips and putting a white brush stroke on the book

he asks to see it when you put the brush down

you gladly oblige, happy with your work

he seems amazed, but he is still tired so he lets out a drawl of

’that’s amazing, but… I’m still tired’

you know what he wants as stretches an arm so you crawl under it and fall asleep beside him

(lmao imagine the brothers reactions to MC drinking paint water. You can deny it but we’ve all done it)

[gxthicwxrm]

No One Like You- We Aren't Just Friends Part Two.

Pairing: Eddie Munson x fem reader

Warning: sibling death, abuse, cussing, angst, Vecna

Summary: Your boyfriend Eddie is unaware of your recent symptoms, you intended on keeping it that way. Vecna had other plans.

Word Count: 3875 words

MINORS DNI! This is an 18+ account. You'll be blocked! 

Please don't translate or copy my work! You do not have my permission to copy or translate my work. Feedback is always welcomed! Requests are open! Enjoy!

Tag List

*not my gif*

Note: please let me know if yall like this part or not! This is my second Eddie fic!

Part One: We Aren't Just Friends

--

This week has been the craziest of your life. Not only did you start an official relationship with your long term best friend and town outcast, Eddie Munson. But, You also found out about a parallel dimension that copied your hometown, Hawkins that's accompanied by a vicious monster hellbent on infecting our world. 

Not only has your life been disrupted as you knew it but your headaches have grown increasingly worse since they first began a few days ago. We’ve found out that they are connected to a demon named Vecna who preys on vulnerable teens, teens like your friend, Chrissy. Your heart pangs with guilt as flashes of her smiling, cheering, even at the picnic table as she shyly announces herself to Eddie and you. That was the last memory you have of her before she and Eddie headed to his trailer for more drugs and to her death. 

You look over at Eddie who sits adjacent to you at the Wheeler’s. Sadness takes a tighter hold on your heart as you think of him alone having to witness Chrissy’s final moments and the scar that those memories will have on him forever. Suddenly, a sharp pain washes over your head from your neck. Pressure builds as if someone is pressing down on your head, squishing it. You shut your eyes tightly as your ears begin to ring with a loud chime of a grandfather clock.

The noise is so loud and real that your eyes fly open despite the searing pain attacking your head. Everything is…wrong. There's no better word to describe what was before you than wrong. You were still at the Wheeler’s but you were alone and it was dark. Vine-like tendrils wrap around the world like it’s being held, hostage. You recognize it to be the Upside Down. Within a blink of an eye, your father stands before you.

Chills snake up your spine. Fear freezes you as if someone dunked you into an ice bath. Your relationship with your father was complicated, to say the least. He was a cruel man, a drunk man. You and your mother suffered at his hands for years before he almost killed you both. Your father bares his teeth at you as he spits at your feet.

“You’re nothing but a whore like your mother. That slutty uniform and your stupid little boy toy. Do you think that freak is going to save you? He’s gonna be your death sentence, you little ungrateful bitch.” His words carve a hole into your chest as you try to push the memories away. You refuse to let Vecna torture you. Flashes of Eddie pass as you close your eyes. Your father's presents disappear as the world suddenly feels lighter.

“Y/N? Are you okay? You spaced out a little there, babe.” Eddie’s concerned voice floods your ears as you open your eyes. He was only a foot away, bent down in front of your position on the couch. You smile up at him.

“I’m sorry. I’m just processing everything. It’s still so unbelievable to me.” You lie. Guilt wrecks you as you hide the telltale signs of Vecna’s curse. You can’t put more anguish onto the boy in front of you than has already been dealt with him. With a nod, he leans down to kiss your forehead. His lips linger before he pulls away. 

“I know. I’m still processing it myself. I’m here for you, okay? Just know that you can always come to talk to me.” His voice is earnest and firm. He analyzes your face to which you give him a small smile, accompanied by a chuckle.

“I know you are. I’m okay.” You shrug him off. Trying to change the subject you look around, despite your fear of seeing the other world, for a distraction. Unable to find one, you look back to Eddie who is still squatting in front of you with nothing but worry about his beautiful features. 

“Y/N, I’m serious. I will always be here for you. A shoulder to cry on or a hug when you need one. Whether we are platonically, sexually, or romantically involved, I’ll always have time for you and what worries you.” He opens his heart to you. A need to get away from any subject that might lead you to talk about your symptoms multiplies.

“In that exact order.” you deadpan. Eddie furrows his brows with confusion. 

“What?” He questions. 

“We have been involved in that exact order.” You answer, smiling lazily. “We’ve been involved platonically, then sexually. Then finally, romantically.” Understanding takes over Eddie’s features as he realizes. As if a light bulb popped over his head, Eddie straightened up with a finger hovering in the air.

“Actually, whether you won't admit it or not, we were romantically involved way before we were sexual, milady. We were a couple before we knew we wanted to be.” Eddie’s admission warms your heart as he smiles happily at the memories that no doubt are flashing through his head as they are flashing through yours. All of those late-night talks about his campaigns and your current book obsession, your smoking sessions that always ended with you two spending the night, you lay with his head in your lap, reading to him or your head resting on his chest as music hums in the background, him trying to teach you to play guitar, and the countless kisses that followed the first and the childish giggles that erupted from you both every time you realized that kissing was something you two could do. Butterflies erupt from your stomach as you reach out for his ring-claded hand, holding it in your own

“That is very true, my good sir.” You say back, voice filled with reassurance. You fiddle with his rings before interlocking your fingers. Lovingly, you kiss his knuckles while looking up at him. His other hand reaches for you, to touch your cheek. But, all you can see is your father’s fist coming towards your face and you flinch. Eddie’s expression twists into one of immense worry. Before he could address what had just happened, Steve enters the room.

“Max wants to drop some letters off to some people, do you guys want to come?” Steve asks, his head popping around the doorway. Quickly, I get up from my position on the couch and walk towards the doorway, dropping Eddie’s hand in the process.

“Yeah, I wanna make sure she’s alright.” Since her stepfather left the picture, Max has been staying across from Eddie. You nod and go to follow Steve. Eddie reaches, grabbing your wrist as Steve goes back to the car. Instead of saying anything, he tilts his head. As if to ask,’ What just happened?”. You shake your head, not wanting to talk about it, and kiss his cheek to try to reassure him. You turn and head towards Steve and the kids. Max’s headphones rest over her ears as she looks at the distance. A wave of guilt cloaks over you as you long to let the younger girl know she isn’t alone. She won’t die alone. But you can’t. Not without breaking Eddie’s heart.

Knowing what it’s like having a deadbeat dad, you connected with Max. You looked to her as a younger sister, like the one you never got to be with. When you were twelve and your sister was sixteen, a terrible accident happened. Your father was drunk off his ass, like usual, and was driving you two girls to your mother’s for the weekend. They had a terrible conversation on the phone prior to the drive over, so your father was already livid. Swerving all over the place, other cars honked viciously at us as he went down the two-lane road. Suddenly, a deer jumps out from the woods. Your father swerves hard to miss it. The car spins out of control as you barrel towards a massive tree. The car twists as you grab onto your sister before her side smashes into the large oak. 

That was the last memory you had of the accident before waking up in the sterile hospital. Not even Eddie knew the story of how your sister passed. Everyone knew that it was a car accident, but that was it. You blamed your father and rebelled against your parents. Quickly, your mother took full custody of you and you never saw the man again. Not until Vecna picks you to prey upon. With a shake of your head, you keep walking to the kids. Swiftly, Max takes her headphones before reaching into her bag.  Before you can say anything, Max reaches out an arm, and a letter extends to you.

“Thank you. But we won’t need these. You are going to be okay.” Those words were the final ones you spoke to your sister, they won’t be your final to Max. She shrugs you off. With a smirk, you reach out and pull the young girl into a hug. At first, she retreats before her arms wrap around you. She holds onto you tightly. You let her hug you, knowing you both desperately needed it right now. 

“Hey, I’m sorry to interrupt. Everyone is ready,” Lucas comes up from behind Max. You both let go of each other as Max turns to face Lucas. 

“I’m coming,” Max says before throwing on her headphones and following Lucas to Steve’s car. Eddie stands with Steve beside the car as they let the kids get settled in the backseat. You start to make your way over when a thought strikes you. Patting your sides for your bag, you realize you left it in the house. Eddie notices your frantic pat down and starts to make his way over to you after wrapping up his conversation with Steve.

“You ready, princess?” He rests his hand on your shoulder before sliding down your arm to hold your hand. You shake your head.

“No, I forgot my bag in the house.” You look back at the house. Understanding takes over Eddie’s confused look. 

“Do you want me to go get it?” He moves to walk towards the house, but your hand reaches out to stop him. Your hand rests against his chest.

“No, baby. I got it. Just don’t let them leave without me.” You joke. A beautiful laugh leaves Eddie’s lips as he goes to explain to Steve what’s happening. You turn towards the house and head to the basement where you were last. You glance around the room, looking at the couch you sat on at last. Suddenly, a coldness creeps along your spine as you spin around to see this is no longer the Wheeler’s home. This is the house your family fell apart in. Slowly, you move from the hallway and make your way into the next room. The room was your old living room. Your father sits on the couch watching television. A beer in his hand and three empty ones sitting on the coffee table in front of him. The TV is on but mute. That was his way of listening in on you guys so he could hear us if any of us talked back under our breath. 

To your surprise, you accidentally knocked into a vase that rested off to the side. The metal clangs loudly against the hardwood flooring. With a gasp, your hand flies to your mouth, covering as you could swallow back the sound you caused. With a snap of his neck, your father’s dead shark-like eyes watch you. You back up, knowing he will strike you if you don’t calculate this correctly. With a blink of your eyes, Your father is in front of you, hand around your throat. Pain pulses from your neck where he crushes your windpipe. His nails bite into your skin as you begin to lift up. His inhuman strength holds you, feet unable to feel the ground. You thrash around to flee, which causes his grip to tighten.

“It should’ve been you. It is all your fault.” His voice is eerily calm as his face gets closer to yours. Tears fall down your cheeks as you scratch at his hands in a desperate attempt to move his hand. Your legs flail, trying to kick him, but it seems impossible.

“You killed your sister. She’d be alive if it wasn’t for you, you piece of garbage. I should kill you right now. I could. We both know that. You are nothing. I’m glad she’s dead, so she doesn’t have to see what a terrible disappointment you are.” He throws you down on the ground, raising his fist. You flinch, shutting your eyes before you hear loud honking. You look up and see you are no longer in the house. You now are standing on the road where the wreck happened. Suddenly, headlights are heading straight for you before cutting to the side, smacking into the tree line. Multiple screams erupt from the car. Your feet pound into the ground as you make your way over. The vehicle is pinned against a large oak tree. Desperately, you reach for your sister. You see her lying unconscious in the backseat of the car, but you can't open the car. The door refuses to budge as you put your entire body into pulling it. With a loud ‘fuck’, you kick the car door before punching the window. You crawl in, carefully picking her up before leaving the car. 

Blood pouring from her head, you lay her on the ground. Before you could've checked her pulse or done CPR, her eyes flies open. Her hand locks with a death grip on my wrist as she pulls herself up in a flash. Her skin is now washed out, dead. Her eyes clouded over. Decay covers her skin.

“You should’ve been the one. I should be alive with friends and boyfriends. You don’t deserve it. Any of it.” She screams in my face as tears stream down her face. Sobs wrack through your body as you desperately try to pull your arm from her supernatural grasp. 

“You don’t deserve them. Eddie would be happier without you. Lying to him when you know that you are going to die, just like Chrissy! I. Should’ve. Been. You. I had so much life to live! You should’ve died.” Her words strike you like an ax chopping wood. Hard, fast, and unyielding. Her other hand grabs your throat like your father did moments before. She raises your body while standing to her feet. “You will die this time. We will end your suffering.” Her voice distorts into a deeper, meaner voice. It’s not your sister in front of you anymore. Vecna standing before you, arms reaching for you. Fear subsides as you realize your time has come. You can’t fight this monster, no matter what form it may take. Your thoughts drift to Eddie as your eyes start to flutter shut, accepting your fate.

Music blasts into your ears as your eyes shoot back open. Vecna is still in front of you, but you two aren’t alone. Behind the decayed monster, a whole opens up showing you floating in Nancy’s basement with Eddie screaming for you to come down. Max’s headphones resting on your head. 

“Girl, it's been a long time that we've been apart

Much too long for a man who needs love

I miss you since I've been away

Babe, it wasn’t easy to leave you alone

It’s getting harder each time that I go

If I had the choice, I would stay” 

“No One Like You” By Scorpions breaks you away from Vecna’s torture as your foot curls up, kicking him in the chest over and over again. His grip loosens as you kick a final time. You drop to the ground. Eddie’s cries lace in with the music, crushing your heart as you start to run to him. 

“There's no one like you

I can't wait for the nights with you

I imagine the things we'll do

I just want to be loved by you”

Memories of Eddie humming your favorite song into your hair as your head rests on his chest, a finger tapping the beat on your bare thigh. You push yourself further as you close in on the gate where Steve and Eddie are both trying to pull you down. Max and the kids are begging you to come back

“Girl, there are really no words strong enough

To describe all my longing for love

I don't want my feelings restrained

Oh babe, I just need you like never before

I just imagine you'd come through this door

You'd take all my sorrow away”

Flashes of Eddie keep you going. Eddie tickling you because you wouldn’t give him something. Eddie teaching you how to roll a joint and messing up massively. Smoking with him. Your first kiss and every kiss since then. 

Suddenly, You’re back in your body, falling to the ground. With a blood-curdling scream, you crash into two sets of arms, music still blaring in your ears. Speechless, You reach out to grab anyone that you can. One hand grips onto Eddie’s denim vest, who you were leaning against, while the other has held onto Steve’s arm. Gasps leave your body as you look around frantically. Dustin, Lucas, and Max drop right in front of you, pulling you into their arms. One side of Max’s headphones slides down as you lean your head on Eddie’s shoulder, trying to catch your breath. 

“I thought you were going to die. I thought it was happening all over again. Why didn’t you tell me?” Eddie mumbles more to himself than you, tears streaking down his handsome features. 

“I’m here. I’m still here.” Noticing your headphones slipped, Eddie quickly puts them back, muttering something you couldn’t catch as the music floods your ears. After you settle your breathing and then calm down, you see Steve and Eddie talking. Both sets of eyes move to you every thirty seconds or so. Steve nods his head at Eddie before they each turn and look back at you. Then, Steve grabs the kids' attention who was sitting beside you, Max hugging your side. Lucas is the first to get up, not before hugging you. Dustin follows him, walking behind Steve upstairs. Lucas waits at the bottom of the stairs, waiting for Max, who is still hugging you. With a tight squeeze, she pulls away. Looking into your terrified eyes, she reaches for the headphones causing Eddie to say something to stop her. With an understanding nod at Eddie, she gives you a sad smile before going with Lucas upstairs. 

Now alone, Eddie paces back and forth in front of me. I know that he has questions. Ready to address them, I pull off the headphones. The music hums from the headphones still, faintly. 

“I’m sorry.” You croak, voice sore from Vecna. Eddie stops. Looking up from the ground, he stares at the wall for a minute before turning to you. His face is red and wet, eyes bloodshot and overflowing. He doesn’t attempt to stop them as they drip down onto his Hellfire Club shirt.

“You’re sorry?” His voice is just above a whisper. Disbelief floods him. “That’s all you have to say?”  Memories of Chrissy’s body on the ceiling stain his thoughts as he looks up at the roof of the Wheeler’s basement. He lazily points at the spot right above where you were floating.

“You were going to die. Right. There. That exact spot. I was going to watch you die. Do you know what I felt when I came down those fucking steps-” He points to the stairs leading into the basement. “ those steps right there? When I saw your fucking eyes hazed over?” You open your mouth to speak, but he cuts you off.

“Wanna know the worst part?” He asks, anger lacing his voice. You shake your head, tears falling from your eyes as you hear his pleas for you to come back to him. “I knew exactly what was happening to you. And I fucking knew I couldn’t stop it, just like I couldn’t stop it last time.” He was livid but relieved. Relieved that he had you and that you weren’t like Chrissy. At the thought of the cheerleader, anger boils in his chest.

“I didn’t want to worry you. I wanted handle it my-” 

“I don’t want to fucking hear the words you are about to say. I can’t handle the thought of you accepting that!” His finger juts towards the ceiling again. “You were going to die, Y/N. Fucking die! Do you understand that? I did the moment I came down those steps. You were already fucking floating, Y/N. I thought I was too late. I thought I was about to watch your body crumble and your fucking eyes get sucked out.” With the mention of how you would’ve looked on the ceiling, both of you break down. Eddie crumbles to the ground, hands covering his face as he cries. Sobbing, you crawl over to him. Gently you wrap your arm around him, to which he opens his, pulling you in greedily. 

“I am so sorry, Eddie. I was scared and didn’t know what to do. I am so sorry I hurt you.” You cry into his chest. 

“You can always come to me. I told you that! I will always be here for you. You didn’t hurt me. You scared the fuck out of me.  I’ve never felt fear like that in my life. I just got you, Y/N. We haven’t even been together a month, Y/N. I thought you were about to leave me, right in front of me, and I couldn’t do anything. I just got you.” He mutters the last part more to himself as his head is buried in your neck. “Please talk to me next time. Tell me this shit. I can’t lose you, not now, not ever. Please.” His voice is hoarse and broken as he lifts his head to look at you. A bruise is forming around your neck, causing another tear to fall down his face.

“I will. I won’t keep this from you again. I am so sorry, Eddie. I love you. I can’t lose you either. You’re what brought me back. I could…” Your voice trails off as your find strength inside you. “I could hear you. I heard you all screaming for me, so I ran as fast as I could go.” Your hand cups his cheek as he leans his forehead against yours.

“I love you. Just know that. I love you more than anything, and we will beat this fuck. I won't let Vecna take you from me. I promise. ” He replies. With a smile, you close your eyes and lean against him as his hands hold yours. Fear still keeps you on edge, but with Eddie by your side, you feel better than before. You can’t begin to process how you’ll defeat this creature, but until then, you'll work on building trust back up with Eddie, knowing he’ll be vigilant now. None of that matters as you just allow yourself to feel his warmth as he wraps his arms around you, holding you tightly, never letting you go.

Tags:

@nim-rose

@imnotsiriusyouare

Let me know if anyone wants to be tagged in my work.

[takaraphoenix]

There is not a single good reason to tag a queer positive post with “q slur” and it’s honestly such a red flag if you do this.

No seriously. There is absolutely no reason to do this. Ever. At all.

If you, personally, don’t want to be called queer, that is your prerogative. If this is a word that has hurt you before and that genuinely triggers and upsets you, there are things you can do to improve your own online experience. One of them would be, oh I don’t know, not putting posts containing that word onto your own damn blog by reblogging them.

If you do not want to be included among queer people, then you shouldn’t include yourself in a group that self-identifies as queer. Which is what you do by reblogging queer positive posts; none of these posts were talking about you, personally. They are talking about queer people. And if you feel the need to reblog them, then you include yourself among these queer people. Go reblog posts with the alphabet soup acronym if that is what you, personally, feel suits you better. You could literally just not reblog a post that contains the word “queer” and talks about queers.

You don’t have to ever interact with a post discussing queer themes, queer people and queer identities. If you find the term queer so very offensive and lack context-reading skills that would help you see that queer people proudly calling themselves queer is actually in no way or shape the same as someone using it as a slur, you even have the tools to avoid ever seeing any post containing the word queer by blacklisting not just “queer” as a tag but also filter it as content, which thus will block any post that anywhere at all contains the word “queer”.

I will 100% assume you are an exclusionist or a TERF if you still end up reblogging a queer positive post and tag it as “q slur”. Because you had choices here - not reblogging a post containing the word “queer”, blacklisting the tag “queer”, filtering for post content containing the word “queer” - but you chose not to do any of that, you chose to reblog a queer positive post and then tag it as “q slur”, and at that point, exclusionism and TERF ideology are literally the only reasons left why you would do this.

And the thing is that, scrolling through those blogs, especially through the “q slur” tag, usually shows that they are, in fact, exclusionists and TERFs. It’ll start soft enough with posts complaining that they don’t want to be called queer, which is reasonable enough, isn’t it? Then the rhetoric on the posts about not wanting to personally be called queer changes and gets more aggressive. Then it’s about not calling other people queer at all because you don’t know if they want to be called that (even though, let me point at the above where you could just not include yourself in posts about queer people). It then turns more into complains about comparisons when it comes to reclaims, how it’s “totally not the same thing” to reclaim gay and lesbian as it is to reclaim queer (even though it is. It literally is the same thing as we are reclaiming our identities that have been wielded against us). At which point it just escalates into flat-out open exclusionism because uh actually there is no need to reclaim queer at all, LGBT suffices entirely because no other letters are needed and if you aren’t L, G, B or T then you can’t reclaim queer anyway.

A--and there it is, the toxic TERF and exclusionism mentality, saying what they really mean. They don’t want queer people to exist. Period. Only the nice, clean lesbians, gays, bisexuals and transgender people (though in enough cases, if you continue scrolling, you’ll reach the part where they too will be excluded). No complicated, other identities, only the “proper” and “good” kinds, eh?

Reblogging queer positive posts and tagging them as “q slur” is just the conversation starter here. The rat-tail that follows the “q slur” tag is like a meticulously crafted conversation to turn other people away from queer and to instead turn them toward exclusionism and TERF ideology and it’s insidious.

Because yes, queer has been and most likely still is being used as a slur in many parts of the English speaking world. And I’m sure there are many people who are genuinely traumatized by the way others have used this word against them. But if people in fandom spaces can manage to blacklist characters and ships they dislike, then people with genuine triggers or people who take genuine personal offense at as much as seeing a word - regardless of its positive context - should also be capable of blacklisting and avoiding those for them upsetting words. Because tumblr gave you the tools to not have to even see it literal years ago at this point.

So, if you’re not taking these easy measures to avoid the word? It clearly doesn’t actually bother you all that much, I’d say, because otherwise you’d take measures to avoid having to see it and you most definitely wouldn’t go out of your way to put posts containing it onto your blog.

You chose to still see these posts containing the word, you chose to interact with these posts, you chose to reblog them and put them on your blog, but you still feel the need to tag it as “q slur” by not recognizing the difference between a word used as an actual slur and people talking about their own lived experience in a positive light, and there is literally absolutely not a single good-faith read on that left for me. At which point I am going to use the tools given to me by tumblr and block you to avoid you ever interacting with my queer posts again.

Because I’m a queer woman and I take offense in you calling my identity a slur.

Happy fucking pride to all queers. Exclusionists and TERFs die mad about it. 🌈

[theultimateultimateweapon]

Hello! With all the discourse going on in the Kirby tag I'd like to clarify some things. I've seen a lot of arguing without actually saying what or why this is I think a lot of people are confused, I'm going to try to help.

What is "pro-shipping"?

Proshipping is the idea that disliking a ship does not mean you have to be against those who ship it. It's used as a way to say that everyone is entitled to their own ships and opinions and that's okay!

Hold on... why is that bad? Everyone seems to hate that.

While the premise is good, unfortunately "proship" is a term that has been adapted to excuse inappropriate and harmful content. For example, people who ship incest, pedophilia, abusive ships, and more have been using "proship" as a way of saying "Hey it's all fictional, I can do whatever I want!" This is not okay.

Wait! I support people's rights to ship whatever, but I definitely don't support that!

Then don't use the term proship. Do not be a proshipper.

But I want to use the term anyways! If it's used correctly enough we can reclaim the term.

No. The best way to deal with people who ship incest, pedophilia, etc, is to block, report (where appropriate), and ignore. If you believe people have the right to ship whatever they want but you do not support this harmful content, then you're just a decent person and you don't need a term for it. Save yourself the trouble and detach yourself from the term.

But my therapist/doctor/parent/friend said that it's okay...

We cannot expect every person to understand the nuanced meaning behind words and terms we invented in specific contexts. This person may be trying to help you, but they don't actually know how the word is used. That's not always their fault, especially if they learned it from someone who doesn't understand how it's in harmful spaces either.

This is your sign to move away from the term proship for good. If you misunderstood the meaning and you had good intentions, it's alright! You can move on! The internet is complicated and it's easy to get the wrong idea from something.

If you see a proshipper, block and move on! Stop harassing people, they do not need more exposure.

But from here on out, know that the proship term is used to excuse shipping incest, pedophilia, abuse, and more. It is not acceptable. We do not support proship in the Kirby community.

[k-dokja]

Hi so I'm here to request a scenario for fic for Taehun. Him trying to win back his ex. Maybe he thought he fell out of love with her and he realises he was wrong and now he is trying to win her back. You can put the setting in high school or not it's up to you. Thanks in advance

summary: he was never good at complicated calculations.

settings: broken up + reader has been dating him since high school + open ending.

author’s note: it has been two months since i last wrote for him. i don’t know who he is anymore.

ah, to begin with, it was his misstep.

“let’s end this.”

“end what?”

“us.”

“…why?”

it was the distance, taehoon rationalized. between your schedules and your plans and your future, maybe he was an obstacle in it all. to begin with, there was no happy ending to this mismatch. it was his fault for thinking that someone like you would be happy with someone like him. well, he was young (younger), and nobody could blame him for wistful thinking.

at least, he could stop before it was too late.

“i’m bored.”

it was not honest but at least it aligned with his character. when had he ever been someone better? crude, apathetic, cruel. he has had years to cultivate this image. and if you thought worse of him for it, then fine. at least, you won’t have anything to regret.

“…you mean it?”

“yeah.”

“…okay.”

he should have been elated that you were accepting of his decision. yet, his throat dried and his eyes blurred. but when his regret had the chance to sink in, you were no longer there by his side. taehoon had known it was a mistake soon after the words passed his lips, yet his pride would not let it be otherwise.

time passes after that. the slow crawl of everyday mundane loses any form or shape without you around. his friends prod him about it. once. after his prolonged silence and subsequent departure, the topic of you is never brought up again. it is strange how you were once among his loved ones and now what is left of it can’t even talk of you in his presence.

your support back then has inspired him to go back to competitive martial arts. but without you, he clings to it like a lifeline. training takes up much of his time after graduation, alternating between practising at the dojang and sparring at different gyms. then comes the dip in between, where his thinking is kept to the minimum while he goes on with his days. he never tries to move on.

it’d be easy, if he wants, to have a rebound. but the thought is fruitless because those would be the energy he wasted. better to keep his mind somewhere more productive. he never entertains it, and he never lets anyone in. the misery of his own making leaves him drowning in prayers that one day he will come to terms with his mistake.

he looks up your profile sometimes. a habit that goes bad as time drags on. you never bother to block or delete him and he never uses social media enough to care. later on, when he thinks about that, it stings worse this way. when you’ve decided to let him stay in your life, he has understood your implication. gone were the years you spent with each other. now, he’s too insignificant for you to care and maybe he deserves it.

a heartless treatment for a heartless one.

after your update begins to pop up from oversea, taehoon knows he has no more chances. he makes peace, (tries to) forget about you, and maybe prays that one day he will move on. it is not easy, not in hindsight. a day becomes a week, a week becomes a month, and then a month blurs into a year.

one morning he wakes up, taehoon no longer remembers your face.

only fragments of memories patching into the image of you. he knows your favourite flavour, your favourite food, your favourite stores, yet your voice is nothing but a distant past. his hand itches for him to pick up his phone and refresh his mind. but he resists it, this would be for the best.

he doesn't have time to wallow over it, anyway.

aside from training, he has other plans for once. something about the company's celebration of another milestone for followers, but he doesn't remember the details. only the place and the time stick, that's enough for him. by the time it arrives, he has succeeded in putting you at the back of his mind.

there are days when the thoughts of you are intrusive, like a phantom whisper haunting him. the others are better when he's too busy to worry about his wrongdoing.

today is one of the worse days. he hopes the dinner with the company would improve it, at least. it has been a while since all of them gathered like this. even if only for a while, it helps. thinking about those around him makes him think of his own problems less.

he reaches the restaurant after training and showering. hours of exertion and his subsequent wash clear his mind. he's far more refreshed than ever in clean clothes and hair slightly damp.

hobin's face is the one he spotted before everyone. even among the clutter of friends, the dude has a way of standing out. it's not even his charisma or anything, it's simply his weirdly awkward energy. on the head of the table near him is bomi, who attaches to the group because of hobin more than anything.

to hobin's other side is snapper, then gaeul. those two have continued to be clumsy around each other after the blond finally decided to confess last spring.

then opposite to them, a familiar head of pink trademarked to han gyeol takes up a seat next to her brother, while the other is parked by yeo rumi. hwang mangi occupies the other end of the table with his girlfriend. the girl's name escapes taehoon.

but it doesn't matter. they won't talk anyway.

seeing the entire crew here eases the weight in him a little. he has been a little distant from them after you left, but everyone continues to keep in touch in the group chat. he has never been good at keeping up-to-date with it, but when something matters, they always alert him anyway. else he wouldn't have known about the gathering.

he begins to approach the crew, but then something catches his eye. to the right of yeo rumi, there sits another person. it wouldn't have been a problem, has he not been too familiar with that frame. the hair is longer, softer, and accented in another colour. the clothes are different, he doesn't remember you own those.

it has been over a year, what does he know?

maybe his eyes are tricking him, he can't tell. taehoon pushes the thought down and walks towards them. he keeps his face impassive, he wouldn't be able to push down his emotions otherwise.

"ah, there's taehoon!"

it's hobin who notices him before everyone else, being the one who faces the door. he waves at taehoon, who returns his acknowledgement with a nod.

everyone greets him with a variation of "hey" and "how's it going?" except for han gyeol who berates his lateness. he smoothly ignores her, reaching the only empty seat in a hurried step.

it's one where he sits opposite you, the one who has yet to celebrate his arrival.

you smile when you meet his eyes. it's halfhearted and awkward, like treading on the thin ice of a river you've swum in for years. "hey," you say, "it's been a while."

it's neutral and reserved. he feels awkward all of a sudden. "yeah," he echoes your sentiment. not knowing what word to continue.

thankfully, yeo rumi catches the hint and slots into your conversation. "she just came back for holidays, so i asked her to join us at the last minute," she says, "we're all friends here, after all."

"uh huh," taehoon says, unconvinced.

rumi puts her hands on your shoulder. if taehoon doesn't know any better, he would've assumed she was trying to keep you from running away. "isn't it great that the whole gang is back this time? all of us have been so busy since we graduated high school."

"not me," gaeul pouts, "gyeol is in her last year, too."

"have you gotten any plans yet?" rumi turns her attention to the younger girl, leaving taehoon alone with you again. neither of you speaks. there is only a table between the two of you yet the distance is wider than anything he can perceive.

he half-contemplates leaving. at least, it wouldn't be awkward for you, this way. "i—"

"oh my god," mangi cuts in between the two of you, taehoon has almost forgotten he was sitting there, "this is too much."

when both of you glance up at him in confusion, mangi turns to his girlfriend, saying nothing and then nodding in your direction. she beams brightly and stands up. the confusion lasts for another moment until it becomes clear what has happened.

while the two of you (by extension, the entire table) were gaping at mangi's antics, you somehow got shuffled next to taehoon. it's not exactly sitting next to each other. not in the way yeo rumi happily sticks to han wangguk, or the way snapper tries his best to not accidentally touch gaeul.

there is a distance between the two of you, enough to put a wall in it, but also enough for him to touch you with a reach of his hand. "idiots," taehoon mumbles, "doing unnecessary things again."

"sorry," you smile sadly, "you must feel awkward with me here."

yeah, you'd assume that. he was the one pushing you away, after all. who would even want to see the person they willingly push away? (he would) that's silly and stupid.

"do you?"

"what?"

"feel awkward with me here."

you stay in contemplation for a moment. the smile you force on fades, replaced by a bitten lower lip. "i don't know," you sigh, "this feels... unnatural. like... we shouldn't be like this, but i don't know what to do about it."

"fucking yeo rumi," taehoon grumbles, "why did you agree to come? you knew i would be here."

"i did," you say, "but i wanted to meet everyone else, too. it didn't seem fair to leave you out."

he would understand it. he wouldn't want you to be left out either, but he was the one who dumped you. you were the one to decide whether you want him in your life or not. in the end, taehoon only shrugs, "it would be easier on you," he says, "you wouldn't have to deal with me."

"i don't mind," you smile, "we were friends before everything else, i wouldn't mind being friends again."

it feels awful to hear that. he doesn't want to be friends. he took forever to stop being friends with you and become something more intimate. and now you want him to go back to that uncomfortable distance again, he'd rather be strangers.

but he can't even be a stranger to you. because that'd mean he can get the chance to know you from the scratch, to learn everything about you without prior knowledge, to do better than whatever he has done before. yet, what was done is already done. he can never have another beginning with you.

just a detached distance between the two people who were once dear.

"taehoon?"

"yeah?" he says.

"you spaced out."

he stares at you again. in your eyes, he sees no malice, no hatred, no justified rage. only the confusion of someone who does not know what to make of the situation. "you're right," he says, "we shouldn't be like this."

"i often am, but what makes you think so?"

"we should talk about it," he replies, "but not here. later, alone. i want to be honest with you."

what will he say? he did something stupid and ruined a good thing. you were a saint for not yelling at him for it. but you accepted it so easily, it stings. maybe there was never a chance for anything, maybe he has agonized for nothing.

but he should talk about it with you because he never did back then. the story of you and him ends with a comma, not a period. he should make things right with you, even if he can't salvage anything.

"...all right," you say, "after this?"

he nods, chest suddenly a light from a weight he hasn't known was there the whole time. it's strange. he starts the day not wanting to think about you, yet now you are all that he thinks about. “yeah…”

[nahimjustfeelingit-writes]

Kinktober 2022- Prompt List for Spooky SZN 👻

Let the games begin *deep evil laugh* 😈

.・。.・゜ ✫ ・.・✫・゜・。.

Hey babes! So this is an official prompt list for a fun and sexy write off for those who would like to participate! It will go on for the entire month of October to bring in Halloween! All pairings are welcome. This is a safe space for pro shippers and pro-fiction authors. Harassment and wrong accusations won’t be tolerated. Anti-shippers and trolls will be blocked. Let’s break down the rules:

Can involve any character/pairing you would like!

You can chose one or more prompts to write about but it has to be spooky szn related!

Fluff, smut, & angst! Yes this is a smutty prompt list for the most part but you can always mix it up! (I.e., coffee shop, rolling around in the leaves, watching scary movies cuddled up, spending Halloween alone, reminiscing on a time you had a great Halloween with your ex.)

Adult content! So be sure to post warnings for those who aren’t of age to read.

You may co-write if you like!

There is no limit on how much you write. It can be a mini series or a one-shot.

Make sure to let me know which prompt(s) you would like to use so I can link it.

Be visual! Use pictures, gifs, music etc.

Make sure to share the writers work! Please like, comment, and reblog to get the writers work out to other readers! Engagement is key!

Most of all, HAVE FUN! This is for us to enjoy! HAPPY SPOOKY SZN! 🧡 🖤

.・。.・゜ ✫ ・.・✫・゜・。.

Halloween characters/pairing and writing prompts

31 Kink/Fetish Prompts:

BDSM/24/7- an umbrella term for bondage, discipline/domination, submission/sadism, and masochism. These kinks all hinge on power play—that is, the erotic and voluntary exchange of power. some partners take it to the next level and enter a 24/7 arrangement, meaning that the consensual power exchange occurs full time, often while living together.

Hosiery-This kink is marked by an interest in wearing pantyhose/lingerie/undergarments or having a partner wear hosiery/lingerie/undergarments while engaging in sexual activity. Explore by buying hosiery, especially kinds made for having sex (i.e., crotchless)

Voyeurism-A voyeurism kink centers on being turned on by watching other people having sex.

Exhibitionism-all about getting turned on by being observed.

Roleplay- This kink is defined by taking on different personas during sex and experiencing intensified pleasure from stepping outside of yourself.

Dirty talk- exactly what it sounds like: using suggestive or explicit language during sex in order to heighten sensation and excitement.

Nipple play-People who in general find themselves drawn to breasts might find they have a nipple kink. Tweak, lick, and bite your partner's nipples or invite them to do so to yours.

Humiliation- this kink is about being put in your place by a partner. Someone with a humiliation kink might, for example, get off on being told that they're pathetic or a slut.

Cuckolding- Cuckolding is about being turned on by your partner having sex with someone else, either in front of you or away from you and relaying details at a later date.

Aphrodisiac- "Aphrodite". There are arguably, certain foods, scents, drugs, music, drinks, and behaviors which can increase or promote the desire to be sexual and/or sensual. Some people say that "aphrodisiacs" are merely a placebo, because people THINK they will work. Some find out certain things make their sensuality more heightened, which could also be coined a "fetish".

Financial domination- Financial domination, aka FinDom, is often a fetish but can also be a kink. It involves giving over total control of one's finances to someone else or being kept on a strict budget or being ordered to purchase certain things.

Auralism- just the word for having a sound kink, i.e. being turned on by hearing things. For example, you might be extra aroused by hearing the sound of your partner hit against you as you have sex, or the sound of their moans or how wet they are.

Orgasm control- This kink is common among people who are generally interested in BDSM. It's exactly what it says on the tin: letting your partner control the timing of your orgasm.

Impact play- just the fancy name for any activity like spanking, paddling, or caning, Acarophilia (scratching.)

Helplessness kink-The fear play belongs to the BDSM family, and it means that kinksters enjoy the feeling of terror. The fearful mental state awakens a sexual excitement, treats the players with a rush of endorphins, and releases adrenaline.

Praise kink- Someone with a praise kink is aroused by compliments, praise, and encouragement—for instance, being told "You're doing such a good job, taking my dick." or "You're so beautiful when you..."

Degradation kink- A degradation kink can be considered the opposite of a praise kink. A person with this kink is turned on by being denigrated and degraded by their partner either through words or through actions (i.e., being spit on, slapped, choked, called a bitch, lightly choking on an object to the point of making gagging sounds.) This kink might do something for you if you lean toward being submissive and like your partner to take control and tell you what to do in a sexual situation.

Blood play/knife play kink- Blood play is all about being aroused by blood, either by having your own brought to the surface or drawing your partner's blood.

Breath Play- refers to the BDSM practice of having your breathing restricted during sexual activity—cutting off air supply by choking, or it can be used as a sensation (i.e., blowing air)

Quirofilia/sensation play- A specific fetish for hands is referred to as quirofilia, which may manifest as an attraction to fingers, a great manicure, or simply some smoking hot hands. Hands are sexy. They’re used for myriad sexy things, like the underrated hand job, fingering, and back massages. This kink is a sensual, soft-core subcategory of BDSM. People can stimulate their sensations with silk scarves, feathers, ice, or massage oils, wax, electrostimulation, among others.

Agoraphilia- If you love sex in public places, you have agoraphilia.

Anonymous sex kink- It’s a practise of having sex with someone you know nothing or a very little about, for example, glory holes and mask-on sex.

Amaurophilia-If you get turned on by blindfolded sex, or you prefer having sex in the dark, you have a thing with amaurophilia.

Dick worship/pussy worship- The extensive adoration of the male/female sex organ. Obsession. (I.e., this dick/pussy is mine and only mine, panty sniffer, dick sucking whore, personal seat, Cunnilingus.)

Spectrophilia- a sexual attraction, relationships, or sexual encounters with ghosts who come and have hot sex with them at night. (I.e., succubus, incubus, ghost.)

Size kink- kink or preference for a distinct difference in size, height, musculature or weight between two sexual partners.

Double penetration-People who enjoy this kink get excited about placing two objects or penises to the vagina and the anus at the same time. It can also include oral penetration.

Erotic Wrestling-Sexual arousal due to fighting and taking the other person down to the floor.

Somnophilia-A rare paraphilia where individuals crave sexual interaction with unconscious people. For example, with someone asleep.

Impregnation fetish/breeding-A sexual pleasure derived from the thought of pregnancy. Kinksters of this type enjoy the risk or the possibility of unprotected sex.

katoptronophilia/vanity sex- a fetish for mirrors. Individuals who experience katoptroniophilia may participate more in activities such as masturbating, engaging in intercourse, stripping, or carrying out other sexual actions all in front of mirrors. The desire to carry out katoptronophiliac fantasies might lead to the construction of an environment that enables practitioners to see themselves in a mirror during sex.

[nevarrhoe]

mea culpa (m.m) - one

SUMMARY: "mea culpa" (exclamation - noun/legal term)

used as an acknowledgement of one's fault or error.

↪ in which matt murdock accidentally falls in love with the district attorney's daughter. (masterlist + playlist)

warnings: afab reader/fem pronouns, age gap, smut, p in v, choking, unprotected sex, alcohol, swearing (and ur friendly reminder that just because something is hot in fan fiction does not mean it's hot in real life. use protection kids, and don't fuck lawyers who are fifteen years older than you.)

MINORS DNI - this has been clearly marked as having explicit content and with these clear warnings in place, you are reading this whilst being aware of said content and i bare no responsibility for what you to choose to consume. with that in mind, if someone who a) does not have their age in their bio or b) does so and is a minor, you will be blocked.

i don't even know where the idea for this series came from but i am home from uni for the weekend and the amount of times my poor mother almost saw my laptop screen whilst i was writing this was...not good. enjoy.

-jazz xx

You fucking hated these parties. 

Sweaty lawyers, classy music, champagne that cost thousands of bucks but tasted like piss. And it was all for what? For every lawyer on the Upper East Side to have a dick measuring contest and decide who the best prosecutor was? Yeah, that sounded about right.

It would have been less insufferable if the barristers in question were younger, hotter and more prone to using antiperspirant. Sadly, they were none of those things. All well past their sell-by date. You could deal with an older man but these were just…old. Daddy issues were one thing but gran-daddy issues was where you drew the line. Much unlike the gorgeous blonde girls hooked on the arms of the eighty-plus law firm partners, flaunting the expensive rocks on their fingers and praying for the day that their husbands finally keeled over and left their estates to them. You’d always sworn not to become one of them. At least not until you were twenty-seven at most - and it wouldn’t have been hard, given that your father was the District Attorney and had every high-flying lawyer in his pocket. 

You didn’t need their money though, not when you had his. Obviously, most of it was family money - district attorneys didn’t exactly make money bags. Not much of an issue given that your family name ranked a little between the Vanderbilts and the Rockerfellers. 

So there you were, perched on the edge of some random firm’s annual mixer. You’d cracked out your mother’s vintage Chanel suit - a red-and-black checkered blazer and matching mini-skirt, finished with black platform heels and a spritz of Coco Chanel. There wasn’t a hair out of place - that was rule one of finishing school. 

“Darling, are you going to mingle at all?”

Eyes flickering up from your champagne, they locked with your father’s a few feet away. The scowl was natural. 

“What am I supposed to talk about?” you asked. “They’re all boring. And old.”

“Any man here would give you a job,” he replied. “It wouldn’t hurt for you to have one.”

“Oh father, please,” you snorted. “Your great-grandad didn’t spend years exploiting oil tycoons for billions of dollars for me to break my nails working.” 

You could have gotten any job or degree you wanted - money aside, you were smart as fuck. You’d graduated top of your class at Harvard at the mere age of 21. Two years later, however, your degree was just decoration, with you having discovered you much preferred just…existing. And spending money on clothes, bags, and whatever else you fancied that day. 

“Our ancestors worked hard-” 

“- I never said they didn’t work hard,” you cut him off. “You clearly put a lot of effort into sucking Wilson Fick’s dick.”

Shoving your glass of champagne into your father’s hand, you blew him a kiss and stalked off. 

It was that particular conversation that caught Matt Murdock’s attention. 

He stood a good few meters away from you, nursing his own glass of barely-touch bubbly and fiddling awkwardly with his tie. Foggy Nelson had dragged him there - c’mon Matty, it’s just a formality he’d said - and then duly fucked off to flirt with a stunning law clerk. What a jerk. 

Your comment had been flippant, but it was the first mention of Fisk’s name in a negative light that he’d heard all night. It was no wonder he wasn’t very popular there, given how his law firm had attacked the big guy. 

“You look bored…” you trailed off, eyes flickering down to the name tag on Matt’s lapel. “...Murdock.” 

That wasn’t why you’d come over to him. Okay, maybe it was a little but also because he was a) a stunningly attractive man in a room of viable Jabba the Hutt’s and b) his blazer was just a little too tight for his arms. He’d been meaning to get it taken out a little but man, life was just so busy at the moment. 

It took exactly five seconds for your entire being to fill his senses. Faint Coco Chanel and expensive body cream, all of which had clearly been used to mask the smell of tobacco. Expensive tobacco too. The taste of champagne lingered every so slightly on your breath, but not enough to show you’d had that much. He could read you just from that. You smelt like you - or your daddy, most likely - had money and it was clear you weren’t big on drinking. At this event, at least - because what socialite in modern day Manhattan didn’t have a drinking problem? 

It was weird how he could tell when people were staring - it was just a sense that their lingering eyes just happened to be in his direction. But even if he was in their line of sight, it was clear they weren’t looking at him. No bets that you were one of the best sights in the room. 

Matt was bored. You were bored. And that was where the entire problem began.  

The lawyer gave you a smile. “This isn’t really my scene.”

“Oh, please,” you beamed back at him. “It’s not mine either. You should be grateful you can’t see what’s going on right now - it’s like watching hundreds of Rich Uncle Pennybags drag around their discount Pamela Anderson sex dolls.”

Matt let out a derivative snort. Hell, you were funny too. 

“I very briefly remember what Pamela Anderson looks like,” he replied. “Even a discounted version of her is arguably still very beautiful, no?”

“Mmm,” you hummed. “I mean…I would.”

“I can only assume based on the way you’re speaking about these established lawyers that you’re not one of them?”

“Absolutely not,” you shot back. “I never got around to passing the bar.”

“So why are you here?”

“My old man’s the district attorney,” you replied. “And I can tell by the way your face just fell that you don’t like him.”

“I don’t not like him-”

“- it’s okay, Murdock,” you cut him off. “Rest assured, I probably hate him more than you.”

“So I’ll ask again,” he raised an eyebrow. “Why are you here?”

“Family obligations,” you rolled your eyes. “But what I wouldn’t give to stop playing happy families and leave this godforsaken hall to drink alcohol that doesn’t taste how my Great Aunt Betty smells.”

Matt normally wouldn’t have accepted your hint, but he was so done with the night already. Daredevil aside, he hadn’t been living a very exciting life the last few weeks. Maybe it was time he did something for himself. Something younger, funnier, and prettier than the woman he would normally find in New York on a Saturday night. 

“Are you even old enough to frequent establishments that sell alcohol?”

“Oh, you’re funny,” you huffed. “Old enough by just over two years, but I can assure you I’ve been drinking much longer than that.” 

Matt smiled. “Then I might know a place.”

–

All eyes were on you the second you stepped inside Josie’s Bar. Not for the same reason they’d been on you at the last event. 

Your outfit alone probably cost more than the yearly rent of this hole. It was a nice hole, though. Nicer than you’d expected. Even if the carpet was sticky on your heels and the air thick with tobacco. At least here you wouldn’t have to hide your own smoking habits. 

“What’s your poison?” Matt asked. He kept a hand on the small of your back, guiding you to the bar. Nice.  

You glanced at the bar, scanning the shelves for your choice of intoxication. 

“I’ll take a double dark rum and coke, please.” you replied - half to Matt, half to the woman behind the bar who you assumed to be Josie. 

“Diet coke?” she teased. 

“Not necessary- regular is fine,” you replied. “I assume you accept American Express platinum here? I’ll tip as well.”

Josie smiled. “Touche - and for you, Matthew?”

“I’ll take an IPA.”

You smiled, resting a hand on Matt’s shoulder. “I kind of liked just calling you Murdock.”

“I don’t mind if you want to keep doing that,” he replied. “That little play with the AmEx card was cute.”

“Oh yeah?” you quirked an eyebrow. “I’m not gonna let her talk down to me just because I’m not…working class like everyone else in this bar.”

“How long did it take you to come up with a nice word for poor?” he teased. “Didn’t they teach you grammar in private school?”

You ran a hand down his arm, acrylic nails leaving a trail of goosebumps. “You like running your mouth, don’t you, Murdock?”

“Sweetheart, you have no idea.”

Maybe this was unlike him. Actually, maybe it wasn’t unlike. In fact…it was more like him than the everyday Matt Murdock he liked to let in. It felt a little sacreligious that it was a pretty rich girl that brought it out of him - never mind that you were at least ten years younger - but hell, he’d take it. Life was short and he knew how fun the daughters of rich businessmen could be. Elektra Natchios was testament to that and was arguably much less of a good time that you were so far. 

You slid his drink towards him. “Better get drinking then, huh?”

–

You tried to outdrink Matt.

Matt tried to outdrink you. 

And that was the only explanation as to how you were still at Josie’s by final call. Neither of you were drunk - tipsy at a push - and somehow, you were both walking the line between giving the other your all and still playing hard to get. You’d learnt that Matt was a tease - no doubt a smooth talker in the courtroom - and he could easily keep up with your taunts and jabs. 

“I can’t believe we got kicked out!” 

You’d stumbled out the bar about two minutes before, arms linked with his to guide him down the street. Matt’s cane was tucked up neatly away now - he could have pretended to still use it, but the way you held onto him and led him down the street did far too much to his senses to deny himself of it. It was a mixture of expensive perfume and rum, and what felt like electricity every time your hand touched his wrist. 

“It’s called closing time,” Matt shot back. 

“In my world, that’s just a Green Day song,” you said. “You go a few blocks east of here and they’ll stay open as long as you keep paying.”

“We could go a few blocks east - or we could go one block south and go back to my place.”

You grinned. “Lead the way! Wait - oh my god. Was that really mean?”

He chuckled, grabbing your hand and leading you in the opposite direction.

Matt’s apartment was nice - high ceilings and big windows, though sparsely furnished and minimal at the same time. You followed him through to the kitchen, kicking off your heels and sliding into a bar stool beside him. He threw aside his glasses and cane, spinning around to face you.

“So, tell me,” you began. “How does a small-time lawyer like you afford a place like this?”

“I take men like your father to court,” Matt suavely replied - he reached across the counter and yanked over a bottle of scotch, popping off the lid. “Care for some?”

“Mm, Glen Mckenna,” you glanced at the label. “I’m not much of a scotch gal, Murdock. At least scotch that’s only thirty years old.”

“It’s older than you, sweetheart.”

“My age hasn’t been much of a problem the rest of the night,” you shot back. 

You unfolded your legs, ever so slightly pushing up your skirt as he did. You knew Matt couldn’t see, but some part of you knew even more that he was picking up on your signals. 

That suspicion became something of certainty when he practically threw aside everything on the kitchen counter, large hands grabbing your hips. Within a matter of seconds, as though something had snapped, he had you placed on top of the cool wood, fingers splayed into your sides and mouth just inches away from yours. 

“You’re really playing the age card, huh?” his voice was raspy; bare, green eyes dark with lust. “You know nothing.”

You gave him a grin. “So teach me.”

Matthew Murdock’s lips were on yours before you’d even finished your sentence. Not unlike his hands, they were thick and calloused, bringing a thousand senses over you at once. He was clearly an experienced kisser - and a giving one too. Worlds away from the immature frat boys you’d spent the last few years gallivanting about with. 

He was right -you did know nothing. 

But that was just it, right? Matt was older than you - ten years, fifteen at the most. You’d slept around here and there but hell, nothing had been like this. Two minutes into whatever the fuck you were about to do and Matt had you shaking, cocky demanour gone; hands tangled in his hair and cunt begging, craving for a man you’d never even had before. 

Matt’s teeth tugged on your lower lip and you knew then you’d completely lost your mind. The moan that escaped your mouth only lulled him on, hands squeezing your hips even harder and pulling you closer towards him. 

You felt it then, pressed against your lower stomach. He was hard as fuck. 

“Stop teasing,” you grumbled. 

“Don’t tell me what to do,” Matt hissed. 

Still, he obliged. You wrapped your legs around his waist as he pulled you off the counter, carrying you over to the sofa. He held you with only one arm, free hand tangled in your hair and holding your lips on his. 

You both fell onto the couch, clothes flying everywhere. It didn’t matter how expensive your stupid vintage Chanel was then- it looked much better on his floor than it had ever had done on you. Matt’s shirt and pants followed suit, landing before yours in a crumpled pile. 

“You in some kinda fight club or something?” you paused, tangling your hand in Matt’s hair and pulling him back. Your free one followed down his torso, fingers ghosting across the pink ridges on his abs. No complaints here. 

“Less talking, sweetheart,” he brushed aside your comment. “=

“Who put you in charge?”

“Me,” his words were muffled, barely audible as he attached his lips to your neck. “You gonna do as I say?”

“Or what?”

“It wasn’t a question.”

Matt’s lips were quickly replaced by a calloused hand on your throat. He gave it a light squeeze, a wicked smile spreading across his face when your wise demeanor was suddenly gone. He pressed another kiss to your neck, then another, following up to your ear. 

“If it gets too much, you say - okay?”

“Yeah, of course,” you replied. “I promise I can take it.”

Another kiss, this time on the lips. “Good girl.”

You let out a whimper, brain not entirely sure what to focus on as Matt’s hands went to work. He kept one on your throat, squeezing it just enough to earn a moan out of you, the other creeping up your thighs and gently slipping inside you. That caught you by surprise - how gentle he was, and yet completely the opposite at the same time. 

Matt pushed you down into the cushions, hand still gripping your throat. His fingers curled inside you - back and forth, back and forth. A steady beat that hit the right spot over and over and over. Ecstasy took over your body like a rush, senses consumed by nothing but him. 

“Matt,” you murmured. “What about you?”

“Don’t worry about me, darling,” his voice was still gruff, holding some type of contagious venom at you for distracting him. “I’m getting plenty from this.”

And he was. He was getting everything. The quickening pace of your heart, the smell of you, the tiny moans and whimpers that escaped your mouth every time he so much as moved. It was exultation for him as well - and almost completely sinful, the way it made him feel. Not that he gave a fuck about any religious figure in that moment. The man was willing to spend an eternity repenting his sins if it meant just one night with you. 

You came quicker than you ever had with anyone - better than you ever had with anyone. It rushed over your body like a fountain of cold water, ripping from your stomach and up to your already-dysfunctional brain like the sharp drop of a rollercoaster. Falling, falling, falling, until Matt’s hands grabbed you and grounded, softly caressing your face, holding your jaw as you cried out his name. 

“You want to stop?” he gently asked. 

“No,” you sharply sat up, scowling. “Didn’t I say that I would tell you-”

“- careful with your tone, sweetheart.”

Matt grabbed you by the hips again, pulling you down into the sofa. The next few moments were unbearable in the best way - a blur of teeth on your neck, chest, stomach and thighs, barely even registering what was going on until you felt his tongue swipe over your folds. A cry escaped your mouth, still overstimulated from your last orgasm. 

“If you want something,” Matt popped his head up, shit-eating grin across his stupidly gorgeous face, “you should just say.”

“Stop fucking teasing.”

He moved back up towards you, brushing his lips against yours. “You make it so easy.”

With that, Matt placed his hands on your ass and hoisted you into his lap. He gave it one final slap before grabbing his dick and maneuvering into inside you - you couldn’t help but let out a moan of relief, dropping your head into his shoulder and gently biting his skin. 

“Didn’t take you for a biter,” he chuckled. Running a hand up your back, he dusted across your shoulder, large fingers finding place on your jaw. “Move.”

And move you did. 

It was heaven the way he felt inside you - his fingers had been one thing but this was incomparable. You didn’t give a fuck about a stranger’s neighbours at the best of times, but you had absolutely no respect in that moment for anyone belove or below (in more than one sense). You were loud and Matt fucking loved it. He couldn’t see you - couldn’t see your glazed over eyes or freshly bruised and bitten skin - but hell, you filled his other senses enough to make up for that. 

You kind of knew the minute you met that he had a big dick. It was in the way he held himself: confident, but humble. Funny, but in an unassuming way. And it hit just the right spot, repeatedly edging the same spot that his fingers had tired out just moments before. 

It went on for a few more minutes; you were completely lost in one another, brains barely able to comprehend that you’d known each other less than twelve hours. 

You didn’t need to tell Matt that you were - he knew, and rather than slowing it down so that you could revel in the last few moments, he picked up the pace; hand tightening on your throat, other squeezing your ass in a way that was sure to leave a mark in the morning.

Your second orgasm was indescribable - you opened your mouth to let out a yell and yet, it was silent. Your acrylics clawed up and down Matt’s back, digging into him in an attempt to ground yourself. That only egged him on, the sting adding to his euphoria as he came undone inside you. 

Matt laid you back down on the couch, pressing kisses to your jaw as he did. You frowned when he began shuffling about - then he produced his shirt from the floor. He maneuvered your arms so that he could pull it over your head, before reaching for a blanket from the back of the couch and wrapping it around your middle. 

“You’re amazing,” he murmured. “I’m gonna go get you a cloth. Don’t move.”

“I’m never moving,” you softly chuckled. 

He smiled. “Good.”

[adobe-outdesign]

Thoughts on kangaskhan?

Fun fact: Judging by some internal ID numbers and the behind-the-scenes lists we have, Kangaskhan may have been the second Pokemon ever created (Rhydon being the first).

(Image courtesy of Helix Chamber)

This more "kaiju"-esq look, very common among early Gen 1 Pokemon, is one of my favorite things about Kangaskhan. It would have been super easy to just make it a regular kangaroo and call it day, but instead it's closer to a bipedal pouched dinosaur than anything, which is far more interesting.

My other favorite thing about Kangaskhan is that it's allowed to look powerful despite the motherly theme. A Pokemon that carries around a kid is one thing, but a Pokemon that will snap your spine like a glowstick if you so much as look at their kid wrong is another. And despite this, she's still super loving towards her kid:

Aww.

In terms of the design itself, like I said, I like the almost dinosaur-esq look a lot. The yellow accents and the kid being blue draws attention to the pouch, the most important part of the design, and that plate on the head works nicely with the shape of the eyes.

The only thing I don't like are those random extruded blocks on the body. It looks like it's been greebled just to add detail for no reason, and I really don't think it's needed. The spines on the back are fine, as are the "shoulder pads", but the other parts feel like they could've been dropped. I also question the ears being yellow--as it makes them feel a bit disconnected from the body--and wonder if the back spikes should've been yellow instead, but that's a minor point.

And Mega Kangaskhan is perfect. Sometimes less is more, and having all of the energy from mega evolution to the baby so it can hop out and fight alongside mom is brilliant conceptually without being overdesigned.

I also like the minor lore confirmation here. While it's always been implied that young Kangaskhan gradually change appearance to match their mom (not the only Pokemont to do this--Vulpix also does, for example, though this is the only time we see it visually represented in the games), Mega Kangaskhan confirms it and even shows the baby starting to get the same eyes and extrusions as mom has.

My only nitpick is that the extrusions around the belly are particularly unpleasant due to the way it breaks apart the underbelly markings, and doesn't make sense anyway because mom doesn't have any greebling there anyway. That's it though.

Also, side note: While not that big of a deal, it is strange we never got the baby as its own pre-evo. Sure, you would technically have it evolve with a child out of nowhere, but it's not like that makes any less sense than it hatching fully grown with a child (sometimes you just have to accept non-canon gameplay mechanics and move on). I just find it funny that someone looked at Gen 1 and went "you know which Pokemon here needs a pre-evo? Jigglypuff.

But anyway, as a whole, Kangaskhan has a pretty solid design and a very unique (and heartwarming) theme. It also has one of the best mega evolutions we ever got, period. Way to go, funky kangaroos.