#if there is so much and then more to discover and think about and it's tragic and beautiful and makes sense

[mylittleponyoh]

Desk Mess CC Kit by MylittleponyOh

Hi Simmers !

Today is the big day ! The REVEAAAAL of my secret project. Because yes I've been working days on this 15 objects kit !

A little lore about the Desk Mess CC Kit : Maybe you know it, maybe you don't I AM FRENCH. And I play The Sims since... I am 11 or 12 yo. When I discovered the great world of custom contents, I was awestruck. So, I started downloading a loooooot of them. Never thinking one day I would make my own. Then in Covid 2020 I tried Blender. And a new world opened to me. It was hard. But I am very stubborn. I failed a lot. But I kept trying. So the first time I successfully added MY OWN CC into MY GAME and it worked I thought, OK THIS IS IT. I WANT TO LEARN MORE. You are going to ask yourself, why is she telling this. Why being French has something to do with this CC Kit, and I'll tell you why. As a Sims 4 addict, I watch a lot of content about Sims 4. And I have a favorite French Youtuber I follow since 2019 @kapands ! I loved her content so much, I followed her on Twitch. And I loved even more the community there. I was so happy to add my contribution to the 2024 secret Advent Calendar the community is gifting her. Following her all these years, I knew custom content was taking a great place in her way of playing The Sims 4. So I challenged myself (really afraid to fail) to create a CC Kit centred around one of her character : Bella. (2nd gen of the Into The Forest Challenge).

🔗Kapands Into The Forest Legacy Challenge 1st Episode

I wanted to thank Kapands, because she has created this awesome community I am proud to be a part of. Because she is kind and real. Because she adresses important subjects of life into her game. And also because she works so freaking much !!!!

What you need to know before downloading :

The following objects are Base Game Compatible

Bella's Comfy Chair, Bella's Desk, Bella's Rug, Bella's Cable Management Plugs 1/2/3, Bella's Cable Management Power Strip, Bella's Sticky Notes Block, Bella's Wall Planner, Bella's Wall Notes, Bella's Mug, Bella's PeachPad, Bella's Mini Maple Tree.

The following objects Request a specific EP

Bella's Diary (Parenthood), Bella's Pen Pot (Backyard Stuff)

T.O.U

Recolors are allowed, but do not include my mesh.

All recolors must include credit and link to my original mesh.

Do not reupload and claim as your own (i'll know it).

Do not reupload behind any paywall.

Download here (pick & choose)

Download here (the all collection in one click)

Join me on Patreon ( it's free !)

Click here to check out all my previous custom content !

✨ If you have any trouble with any of my cc, please reach out to me !

✨ Special thanks @syboubou for the help with the Bella Mug and helping the modders in general ! You are wonderful !

[glasratz]

I just finished reading Anselm von Feuerbach's early 19th century account of remarkable crimes (and just realizing that those 500+ pages were actually just volume one) and this reminds me of one of the cases described there.

A miller's wife went to the local court reporting that her husband made off with a significant portion of the family fortune. This is recorded, but nothing can be really done about it. Soon after, rumours spread that the husband was actually murdered and is buried on his property.

So the court starts an investigation, which goes nowhere. Again rumours come up that the family of the missing miller has bribed the local judge.

Years later, the Bavarian state starts persecution said judge for several unrelated accounts of corruption. During this investigation, the court archives burn down. As the damage is assessed, the unfinished case of the missing miller gets discovered and reopended.

It quickly comes to light, that one of the miller's sons has paid a day labourer and his wife to assist him in killing his father. The body is found.

Now, here it gets horrible:

Before the whole thing happened, the court has gotten complaints about the miller for years. His wife and son had tried to throw him out of the house several times. They complained about his constant violence and how he wasted the family's money on alcohol, gambling and prostitutes.

The court wanted to hear nothing of this and forced the family to take the father back as "head of the household", since this was his god-given right.

This had made the situation worse. The older son realized that now his father was simply going to throw him out, as was his legal right to do. But that young man was the only one physically strong enough to keep his father from abusing the other siblings. It is also well recorded that the mother was once beaten that severely, that she suffered permanent brain damage.

This was, when the plot to kill the father was made.

The story did not end well. The mother, one of the daughters and the labourer's wife were sentenced to long prison sentences. They did not appeal the ruling, because they hoped to be pardoned by the king. They weren't.

For the labourer and the son, the death penalty was out of the question since it couldn't be determined which wound actually killed the father - just one of the quirks of the law back then.

However, in the eyes of the court, the crimes of killing ones own father and in the case of the labourer, killing for money, were so severe that life in prison wasn't enough: Both were permanently forged into chains, paraded through the town, put on public display with signs around their necks and finally put in permanent solitary confinement.

I can't determine whether von Feuerbach thinks this judgment was justified. He just indicates that it was generally lawful. He also doesn't give a clear indication why he included this case in his collection, but he doesn't always do that.

To me, von Feuerbach seems like a reasonable man. He shows compassion as well as reason. He does believe that there are "born criminals", but much more often explains how someone was driven into crime by circumstance and poverty.

So I'd like to think that von Feuerbach saw the problem here. Maybe he though that the main fault was on the local judges side, for not acting against the miller. But I can't say for sure.

i fucking hate it when a movie or a tv show does some shit where a character has a shitty dad and another character tells them to forgive him because. "it's your dad". that means nothing. more people should be killing their fathers.

[girlsoutlate]

the lead up to price sharing his birdie with his men, and badly hidden curiousity on their behalf

i tried just writing the meeting but i found it difficult so i wrote this as a little inbetween piece, enjoy

fem reader described as having hair that can be tied up, slight age gap (older price) THE BOYS ARE NOSYYY

the 141 can be considered nosy by nature, but have the excuse of it being their job. some are more open than others about their home life. ghost seemed to live quite solitary whereas gaz and soap had shared family pictures. nevertheless, there was some idea of each others lives outside of the military. but one person stayed an enigma: captain john price. maybe because it felt strange to know so much about their superior as well as role model. price had never shown an aversion to talking about his life, but the 141 had never asked- shocking to say the least. they all had their own theories. gaz thought he used to be married but it ended in a disastrous divorce- yet there was no trace of any mrs price. soap guessed he liked the company of pretty women, if you catch his drift. but never heard any boasting from his captain. ghost concluded he was similar to him, perhaps with a few more friends and a family, there was no reason to think otherwise. yet none of them guessed there was gorgeous thing like you john was all to eager to return home to each night, until now.

the 141 had been seeing signs of a woman close to their captain for about a month now. it started with a faint hint of fruity perfume under his cigar musk and aftershave, that was out of place on such a man. gaz pointed it out, making the rest of the 141 laugh. however it was forgotten about by the next hour, no one thought anymore of it. then the next day a hairband around prices wrist. he must have forgotten to take it off after you taught him how to plait your hair the night before. it was a work in progress. the simple black band was noticed by ghost while exchanging paperwork. he brushed it off despite finding it a little odd. the first piece of solid evidence they find of the captains mystery woman was his lockscreen.

they were in their common room, taking a break from the never ending pile of paperwork. squashed on the small couches they were joking about the new recruits, which was one of their many favourite topics to complain about. the hum of fluorescent lights was drowned out by their banter, mugs with dregs of coffee in them and a half empty pack of fags sat on the table. while talking, prices phone lit up with a notification. soap, the nosy shite, immediately noticed his lockscreen. a picture of a woman with her back to the camera: gossamer hair and skin that glowed in the sunny view she was admiring. with an eyebrow quirked, soap turned to his captain and asked too casually "whose tha'?". without missing a beat price replied smugly "the missus". for once soap shut up, and looked at the others with his mouth slightly agape, checking if they heard the same thing. ghost let out a grunt which they now knew to be a laugh. gaz's eyes were growing wider by the second. price seemed done and returned to whatever the previous subject was, which had quickly become forgotten. at that point gaz, soap and ghost were a pack of dogs with a bone. who was prices pretty birdie?

over the next month or so the boys had heightened interest on their captains home life. of course they cared about the details of the captains weekend plans, did he fancy going to that quite pricey restaurant that had opened up? it was necessary for them to ask the source of his dinner that evening, did he know the recipe? the competitive streak in them was made apparent sooner rather than later, all fighting to get more important information than the others. even though, if anything was discovered it was immediately shared. one day gaz stumbled upon gold.

he was in prices office, relatively spacious with a small couch in the corner and a bookcase in another. whilst chatting about an upcoming meeting, a buzz emanated from prices phone. before gaz could read the caller id price snatched it up and grumbled 'wont be a minute'. thinking it was a work call, gaz was surprised to hear his captains voice suddenly becoming as soft as it could. turning to face the window johns small smile wasn't missed as he murmured "hi love, how are ya?" staying still and quiet as to not get kicked out, he listened to the chirpy voice that could be faintly heard through the tinny phone. with a content sigh john replied 'steak for dinner? tha's perfect'. a wide grin crept on to gaz's face. a giggle and another sentence could be heard before price replied "of course i'll pick tha' up for dessert" both of you let out a small laugh when john continued "are ya tryna kill me?". just when gaz thought this couldn't get any better, price replied to you "i'll see ya at home sweet'eart". as he hung up and turned back around the sergeant found it near impossible to dampen his grin.

john had told you of his boys' detective work, which he considered shoddy at best. as you were flitting around the kitchen that evening, you were bemused at your boyfriends recount of the day. when he described his sergeants face after the phonecall you let out a loud laugh, bouncing off the tiles of your cosy kitchen. john sat by the table while you busied yourself by the wooden counter, as he nursed his beer he couldn't help but take in your appearance. tendrils of loose hair curled around your ears, escaping from your hair that was loosely tied back. although hidden by one of his tops and comfy jogging bottoms, he could make out the slopes and peaks of your body that he was all too familiar with. as you turned to face him, he was drawn closer to the twinkling reflection of light in your eyes. before he realised it he was towering over you, eyes raking over your form with the beer abandoned on the table. you looked up at him, hand on your hip. "john are you even listening to me?" you asked, face comically blank. "sorry doll, what was that?" he huskily replied, slightly dazed. 'pass me a can. please?' you asked, adding a awfully fake cheesy smile at the end.

pressing a kiss to your lips as an apology, he was about to pull away before you deepened it. pulling his barrel of a body against yours, his mouth slightly opened. the bitter taste of beer and cigars mingled with sweet cider from yours. pulling back, slightly breathless, johns blown pupils met yours. "yer so gorgeous, don't know wha' i did to deserve ya" he muttered, the closeness of his voice making you slightly weak. as his calloused thumb brushed over your warm cheek you coyly commented 'what would your men think if they saw you like this'?. for a moment john faltered, thinking about how they would feel if they saw him being intimate with someone like you- let alone how he would feel. his flushed cheeks were the subject of your teasing for the rest of that night.

while eating your dinner you brought up the 141 since you were already talking about them. you knew your boyfriend felt a responsibility to look after his girl, despite you being more than capable. whenever his deployment was brought up it was usually by him. telling you where he went and anything that he thought might interest you, from an aspect of their culture to a cute cat he saw. sometimes he brought trinkets back. but never about what he had done, or what he had ordered to be done. so the members of the 141 were more characters in your head than real people. you knew their names and basic personalitybut that was all. so when you asked "how much do they know about me?" it was rather tentative. john paused, his fork halfway to his mouth, thinking. shaking his head he replied decidedly "not much, besides y' mine. they're nosy fuckers, practically begged me to show them a proper picture of you". you hummed in response, finishing your mouthful of food. quietly you muttered "maybe it wouldn't be so bad if they knew more". letting the question hang in the air, you picked up another forkful of food which went down your throat in a lump. john was silent, eyebrows slightly furrowed.

he considered your proposal, if his girl was concerned then it was worth thinking about. plainly he asked "why?", trusting you to be open. "well, you spend a lot of time with them- i'm not jealous. its just that.. you trust these men with your life, i don't even know what they look like." pausing for a second you continued "its more for my sake than theirs. if i knew them past their names it would make it, well, easier to be apart from you for so long. i know you can look after yourself, but i- i'm always gonna worry about you." with that said, the air in the kitchen grew heavier. you kept your eyes glued on to your plate as johns gaze from across the table burned in to you.

the captain realised that you wanted to know more, for your wellbeing rather than the 141's. now, he realised it was quite a simple conclusion. he imagined his girl cold and alone in an empty house, no idea where he was or who he was with, for weeks at a time. five minute phone calls spent trying to find better service than speaking to each other. no idea who john was fighting or how difficult it was. no clue about who he was trusting his life with in your absence. how on earth could he not expect you to have an issue with it? he kicked himself, he made his sweetheart worry. he could have prevented it and he didn't, too focused on a successful mission than the only thing he wanted to return home for. price knew this had to change, or risk isolating you even more than he does because of his job.

john stood up, chair screeching on the kitchen tiles while he sighed "fuckin 'ell i'm an idiot". gathering both plates and putting them on the counter, he ran a hand across his face and turned to you. just as you took a breath to take it all back, john interrupted you: "you should meet 'em". you cocked your head to the side, looking at him with slightly narrowed eyes. "whats changed your mind?" you enquired, curious about the sudden change. replying half-heartedly, still deep in thought "just thinkin' about you here on your own, worryin'". taking a deep breath he stated "i'll talk to them about it. you". walking up to him with a small smile on your face you leant up and pressed a kiss to his cheek, beard tickling your chin. "thankyou john" you whispered. reaching up to get the plates the rumble of his voice deep in his chest saying "anythin' for you doll" reverberated against your back.

as he turned to get the dessert out of the fridge the most pressing question yet entered his mind: how would he ask the 141 to meet his birdie- without them going mad?

thankyou for reading :))) each like, comment and reblog is greatly appreciated. this is more for context to the main meeting that has been stuck in my head for ages. if you liked this keep an eyes out!!!

heyyy guys long time no see. had a crazy two weeks, found out my boyfriend was practically cheating on me for the last month of our relationship and he already has a new girlfriend after two weeks. apart from that im grand. sorry it took so long for me to post properly again, thankyou for being patient

[daffodils-and-viscera]

can we talk about stolas and octavia and antidepressants for a second

as someone with a lot of experience taking antidepressants and dealing with family members who Do Not Understand how depression works, it really struck me how octavia deals with discovering that stolas has been taking antidepressants.

presumably, he has been taking these for a VERY long time and based on the evidence in this episode, nobody in his life knew about it- clearly not blitzø or octavia, at least.

i don't see stolas as someone who has been to therapy - this reads to me very much like someone who saw "happy pills" and decided to self-medicate because he thought they would fix him, not as someone who was prescribed a medication and a dose to take (we've seen him downing handfuls of these pills on several occasions in past episodes)

octavia is (understandably) unsettled when she finds this giant box of pills, and despite all her complicated feelings for her father she IMMEDIATELY goes to find him to bring him his pills

octavia is smart!! yes she is pissed off at her dad and this implies that she could have gone to see him at any time when he was calling her, but this discovery kind of goes beyond any argument- no matter how she feels, she ultimately doesn't want stolas to suffer

then we get the big fight scene, which ends with the devastating argument between octavia and stolas where she says "was this my fault that you needed these?"

i adore the amount of nuance in their interaction here for so many reasons, but specifically this vein of "i love you but clearly you don't love me or else you wouldn't be depressed" hits very close to home for me and i love the way it's shown as messy and neither stolas nor octavia really understand the way their words are hurting one another

so it kind of breaks my heart that she closes herself off to him but leaves him with this bottle of happy pills because he does need them. and she knows it, and she cares enough to want him to be happy.

she just doesn't think that happiness includes her, because in her mind she's nothing more than an obligation to him.

ugh the day these two reunite i will be reduced to a pile of mush i just love how complex their relationship is it's so tasty

[princesscolumbia]

It's a day like any other, or so you think. There's nothing remarkable about it, the boss has an after-hours server update scheduled, but for you there's nothing really remarkable about it since you're not on the team for that project. It seems, in fact, like an ordinary day. IT really runs the company. The C-suite? They think they run it, but they're so clueless about the architecture their power is built on, you have more job security than a tenured professor at an ivy league school. You get all manner of calls from all across the company because people without a lick of computing sense get hired and fired on such a regular basis you don't even remember the names of the people who started on the same day as you.

Except for IT, nearly everyone in that department is secure in their job because to ordinary people, you're wizards. And everyone knows you don't mess with the wizard. They can make sure your email gets to you that contains the estimate from the vendor that will make or break your career with the company...or they can take a long lunch because you pissed them off. Yes, everyone knows not to mess with IT.

You hear the grumblings, of course. People upset they can't check their personal email on their work computer, people pissed they can't look up their fantasy football numbers if they're on the company's wifi, but they know they're powerless before you. And you like it that way. The artists you went to school with are all struggling at their coffee shop or fast food jobs, the business majors are doing the crabs-in-a-bucket thing they like making analogies for, and the women who swore they'd be the change they wanted to see in the world by getting into IT all found other jobs that weren't so full of men who questioned their worth.

Your life is pretty good, your job is secure, but your peace of mind is done...you just don't know it yet. Because something happened somewhere else in the company that will shatter that peace you think you've made for yourself.

And it starts with an on-boarding ticket.

You don't think much of it, it's pretty standard stuff for a new hire. You set up their account up, filling in all the right fields and checking all the right boxes and call it done.

Then the next day you get a support ticket. You don't connect it to the on-boarding ticket at first, but it's a request for updating the email and signature information for an account that was apparently made in error. Curious, you check it out and discover that the name the user wants to use isn't their actual name, it's some off the wall hippy-dippy looking name with a weird spelling. Same last name though, so you're pretty sure it is, indeed, the person the email account is registered to. Well, company policy is to use the person's legal name on all correspondence, so you copy the boilerplate from the company manual and close the ticket.

An hour later, the ticket is reopened with HR being CC'd on the correspondence. Shit, the user is a transwoman. Company policy has an exception that allows people to use their preferred name and pronouns in company correspondence as long as Accounting, Payroll, and Legal have their legal names on file. You make the correction and close the ticket.

It's quiet for a bit after that. In fact, it's too quiet. You don't really notice it at first, after all there's always something to do, and when you run out of those things you can use your Admin rights to run one of those games you don't allow anywhere else on the network or access one of those sites that aren't permitted by the company firewall because it's good to be the king, amirite? But suddenly you start realizing you're feeling a bit like the Maytag Man. Users aren't sending in tickets to get their passwords reset or make their mouse work. In fact, the number of times the C-suite has told someone on the team to come up to their office has dropped, too.

Then the tide starts to turn...and you're getting asks both in tickets and during meetings from your boss, "We have a new procedure we're doing, it's going to eliminate the use of email for a certain process and we need you to set up xyz so this team has proper access." What's xyz? Damned if you know, you've never heard of it. You look it up and it turns out to be an older piece of collaboration software based on some open source project you've never bothered learning, but it's still being supported by the vendor (some guy who retired 10 years ago but keeps the software running for funzies) and the community. Whatever, your job is to install the software, make it work, and then handhold the PEBKACs until the crying and whining stops.

Only...the crying and whining doesn't even start. In fact, the only real problem is because...someone on your own team fucked up the roll-out and your boss got chewed and the guy who fucked it up is on notice. "Assuming IT knows the business better than the people who run it," they said. Can you imagine? The villagers questioning the wizards?

The trend continues. IT getting fewer calls, your job becoming less and less easy and more stressful as things that used to fly under the radar are being scrutinized. Forget playing that MMO on your lunch break, you're stuck playing some F2P game on your phone because someone pointed out that the firewall ports for the game were wide open and were only really used by that one game.

Nobody's been able to find the snitch, but it has to be someone in IT, right?

More and more the job becomes less and less fun as you feel the power shift from IT, who used to be the unquestioning masters of the software the business could run, back to the leadership teams of the various departments, and all under the watchful eye of the people in the highest positions of power in the office.

Then one day, one fateful day so disconnected from the day that everything changed you don't, at first, recognize the moment for what it is, you get a call from an office on the second floor. It's one of the "hotel" suites for employees who work from home but need to be in the office occasionally. It seems that the employee is trying to use a docking station that has a busted Ethernet port. They can't connect to the network so can't send a ticket the usual way.

Of course, it's not actually the Ethernet port, it never is. So you have them go through all the steps to get their computer conne...it's not connecting. Okay, so you have them unplug and plug it all ba...they said they just did all that and it's still not working. Including the Ethernet cable? Yes, including the Ethernet cable. You realize you're going to have to go up with a new docking station just in case, in the wild possibility, this user is right. You'll be right up, sir. They remind you of their pronouns. Oh, right, the user is a transwoman. You'll be right up, ma'am.

You get there and realize that the voice doesn't do them justice. They're professionally feminine and femininely professional. They're wearing nice clothes that you couldn't normally be assed to notice, but this is your first transwoman you've encountered in the wild, and you expected a walking stereotype, not someone that looks like they could have stepped off a cover of some business quarterly magazine. Her makeup is on point, her workstation is a touch messy and has a couple of nods to portable personalization. There's an anime figurine right next to her cell phone, which is in a pink, sparkly case. The moment you enter, she locks her computer, showing an incredibly good eye for InfoSec that you don't normally see in users, and you notice the lock screen on her computer has a background showing Tux the Penguin.

Later, you realize that this was the red flag that should have been your clue that your comfortable career with the company was long gone.

You do the usual check to confirm that everything she said she did had been done, test the docking station and confirm that, yes, the Ethernet port is, indeed bad. You set about replacing it and strike up conversation. When did she start with the company? Oh, that many months ago? What does she do? Oh, she specializes in finding solutions to processes that cost the company too much money. How long has she been doing that? Oh, a few years now, it was a bit of a career change but she's honestly enjoying it, finding a sense of purpose she never expected after her late in life change of path. What did she do before?

And that's when she says something that makes the blood in your veins run cold and the hairs to stand up on the back of your neck.

She used to be in IT, before her transition. She was pretty good at it, specializing in InfoSec and malware wrangling, but when she came out and transitioned suddenly she wasn't welcome in the boy's club (her exact words) anymore and needed to find something new for her own well-being and mental health.

She says this with a tiny, ever so slight smile on her face, but the look in her eye is predatory. She knows what kind of terror she struck in you in that moment. She knows because she's been there before.

She knows that the worst enemy of any IT department...is someone who used to work in IT.

You do your best to keep the chatter friendly (don't show your fear) and remove the faulty docking station and scurry back down to your cooler-than-the-rest-of-the-building office where you let the fight or flight response work its way through your system. You wonder how you're going to tell the rest of the team.

You all may be wizards, but a goddamn dragon has claimed her territory.

[lunajay33]

My Princess

•🪽🦇💙•

Summary: You are Feyres sister and have always been shy but when everything happens and you and your sisters become Fae, you find yourself falling in love with the mysterious shadow brother

Pairing: Azriel x Feyres sister

Content: Sneaking around, fluff, smut, getting caught

•Masterlist•

I never thought much about how my life would turn out, living in a run down home with my three sisters and father gave me no hope for what could come, I thought I would die young of either illness or starvation, I always tried to help Feyre when I could just to help and get away from Nesta and Elain, they never liked me much, I am I second youngest and they liked to point out every flaw of mine

But then one day everything changed when we were kidnapped and thrown into a cauldron changing out forms, from human to far, Nesta took an immense amount of power, Elain could feel the future and me, well I haven’t shown anyone what I’ve discovered, I can morphe into the shadows, dissapear whenever I want, it came in hand when Nesta would get in one of her fits with who ever dared step up to her

But then one night as I was slipping into the shadows I met the most adorable little tendrils of shadow that seemed were alive, they were all over me swirling around with what I assumed was joy as they led me to Azriel, he was quiet like me and I found comfort in that silence but never had the never to approach him until the shadows brought me right into his room, as I’m in the shadow of his book shelf

Noticing him straighten up and peer around as his shadows spoke to him

“I know you’re here” my heart leapt, I shifted back into my fae solid form and stood before him nervously

“So you are gifted after all” he stood infront of me, shirtless showing his broad shoulders and ripped body

“Ummm yeah, please don’t tell the others”

“And why not?” I shrugged unsure of why I had to explain my reasonings only making him smirk

“You’re not like your sisters, you’re…….different”

“Different bad?”

“No different good, you’re intriguing and mysterious, you don’t put everyone out there”

•

From that day forward we kept our nightly meetings between eachother and it was sooooo easy, sneaking through the shadows right to his room, we started just talking and getting to know eachother but along the way I fell for him, how could I not he’s so beautiful inside and out and one night when all the others were busy getting drunk at a bar I felt my soul meld with his and his mine

That night we accepted the bond and we haven’t been able to stop, it’s been a week and our hunger for eachother hasn’t been quenched and it’s getting harder to hide this relationship

“Do you think we should tell the others?” I ask him as we catch our breathes, my head resting in his shoulder, his hand dragging up and down my back

“If that’s what you want my angel, but I can’t say sneaking around doesn’t make things more hot” he smirks as he grips my hip

“Maybe just a little longer” I giggle as I turn and straddle his legs laying forward on his chest

“Ready for more already?” His voice got deeper sending shivers down my spine

“Are you able to” I love to tease him knowing he has taken me multiple times in one night

“Please woman” he grabs my hips and grinds them up and down his hardening dick, I’ve heard about the girls talking about the comparison between wingspans but there is absolutely no way Rhys or Cassian could be bigger than my man, he nearly splits me apart

“I love you Azriel” I moan as he slowly stretches me out

“Not as much as I love you Angel, fuck you feel so good” at this angle he was just hitting every part just right it was impossible to keep quiet

“Oh god more I want more” I scream when he thrusts up into me faster and faster

“OH AZRIEL YES RIGHT THERE” I scream not even caring right now who here’s

“So good, mother above I’ll never get enough of you” right as I’m about to be in heaven the door bursts open and everyone in the group is standing there wide eyed and mouths hanging

“Ummmm what the hell is going on” Nesta shouts anger written all over her face

Azriel sits up and holds me closer covering my body

“Can we have a moment to get decent” he groans his shadows pushing the others out and slamming the door

“I’m nervous, did you see the way Nesta and Elain were looking at me?” He pulled out and helped put his shirt on me as he pulled on his own sweatpants

“Don’t worry it’ll be fine come on!” He took my hand and led me downstairs to where everyone was sat around in the living room

“Congrats brother!” Cassian congratulated Azriel patting him on the back

“How long has this been going on?” Feyre asks with a little smile as she sat next to Rhys

“Well we’ve been talking for a while at night but then last week our mating bond happened and we accepted immediately” I say holding his hand tighter

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Rhys asked

“Obviously she knows she’s not good enough to be with him I mean look at her” Nesta laughed, I hung my head low before Azriel pulled me in at the waist

“Watch your mouth, don’t think I can’t destroy your life just because you’re the high ladies sister

“She’s not wrong” Elain whispered but we all heard

“That’s enough they had their reasons and it’s their relationship, Nesta and Elain you need to leave her alone I’ve had enough of you two always bashing on her just because you know she’s better than you, I’m happy for you sister” Feyre smiles

“You can go to the family cabin if you wish while still in your mating faze” Rhys adds looking happy for his brother the next instant in standing in the cabin Azriel holding me tight from behind

“You know they’re not right, your as pretty as the stars” he says placing kisses up my neck

“Thank you Az, now how about we get back to what we started”

“Don’t have to ask me twice”

[girlyrafe]

it’s snowing ray.ᐟ

ʚɞ a december to remember

𖢔 notes: I keep writing things I don’t like but anyways grumpy Rafe can never last + this one being posted a little late sorry

── .✦ advent .ᐟ

summary: for once it actually snows and excrement it actually an understatement when it comes to you so you just have to go out in in all day

ᯓᡣ𐭩

Finally. Finally, it was snowing.

It wasn’t just any snow, though. This was the snow. The kind that makes you feel like you’ve been waiting for it your entire life, even if you didn’t realise you were waiting until it was right there—perfectly soft, perfectly fluffy, and falling so gently from the sky that it almost felt like a secret only you knew. 

You’d woken up in Rafe’s bed like usual—no rush, no plans, just a cosy morning ahead. Wrapped in the warmth of the sheets, you’d been nursing a mug of coffee, lazily soaking in the quiet, sleepy atmosphere of the room. Then, still wrapped in that sleepy haze, you’d glanced out the large windows—and there it was. Snow. 

Not the sad little dusting that disappears before you even make it to the door, but real snow. Actual, magical snow. The kind that makes you want to shout, “I knew it! This was supposed to happen!” You could practically hear the soundtrack playing in the background as you watched the world turn into a snow globe.

Your heart leapt. Without even thinking, you scrambled out of the bed, missing the floor once or twice as you stumbled toward your clothes. It didn’t matter. You dressed like you were preparing for an Arctic adventure, throwing on the cosiest layers you could find, your excitement bubbling up with every button you fumbled.

Then, you were out the door, charging down the front steps like a snow-happy tornado, giggling as cold air slapped your face. You couldn’t help but grin like a kid who just discovered a secret passage to Narnia. Sure, the cold was biting, but it didn’t matter—every snowflake that landed on your cheeks felt like it was telling you, "This is the best day ever."

You skipped through the yard, leaving a trail of footprints in the fresh snow—your own little map of joy. You even made a snowman, though he was more of a lumpy snow blob with a stick for an arm and a crooked smile. But hey, he had character.

Time melted away as you tossed snowballs, twirled around, and lost yourself in the pure bliss of it all. Then, just when you thought the day couldn’t possibly get any better, you saw it. Rafe’s car—gliding down the street like it had been sent from the heavens, just to make your snow day even more perfect. 

Your heart did a happy little flip as the SUV pulled up. You plopped down in the yard, crossing your legs in the snow and waiting eagerly for him. And when he finally stepped out, all bundled up and looking like a snowman in training—pink nose, frown still hanging on stubbornly like it was stuck with duct tape—you couldn’t help but grin even wider.

“What are you doing out here?” he asked, voice rough around the edges. “You’re gonna freeze.”

You looked up at him, your grin turning into an exaggerated eye roll. “Rafe, it’s snowing. It’s beautiful! You have to be happy. It’s literally impossible not to be happy in snow!” 

He groaned, the sound more like a reflex than actual annoyance. “I hate this snow. You should’ve seen how long it took me to get to work this morning—” He caught himself mid-rant, realising just how ridiculous he sounded as he took in the sight of you, sitting there in your snow angel pose, practically glowing with joy.

what was he thinking, as long as you where happy and he foot to see that smile he could never be stressed or unhappy

He sighed, shoulders slumping just a little, the tough guy routine cracking under the weight of your happiness. He knew how much you’d wanted this—how many times you’d gushed about snow, about how magical it would be. 

“Alright, alright,” he muttered, his voice softening. “The snow’s... great. It’s just... inconvenient for my work.” He winced at how flat his words came out, knowing they didn’t quite capture the warmth he was trying to convey.

You simply smiled, undeterred, tracing shapes in the snow like you were painting the day itself. 

Rafe crouched down in front of you, close enough that you could see the puff of his breath in little clouds. “Hey,” he murmured, looking at you like you were the most precious thing in the world. “I’m freezing my ass off, yeah?” 

You let out a laugh, so light and carefree it made his heart skip a beat. “Well, then wait here. I’ll go grab something warmer!” 

You planted a quick kiss on his cold nose, the sort of kiss that would’ve melted any other guy into a puddle. He nodded, chuckling despite himself, and disappeared inside.

A few minutes later, he came back, looking much warmer—and a lot less grumpy. He still wasn’t exactly jumping for joy, but seeing you so happy made his frustration seem... well, a little less important. 

The two of you spent the afternoon running around, throwing snowballs (which, let’s be honest, mostly missed), laughing like you’d never have another snow day again, and trying—really trying—to improve your lopsided snowman. 

By the time the sun began to set, painting the sky in pinks and purples, Rafe leaned over and brushed some snow out of your hair. “You know,” he said with a grin, “I’m not going to work tomorrow. They’re calling for more snow, and I think you might need my professional snowman-building expertise, yeah?”

You nodded eagerly, your smile so wide you thought it might split your face in half. It wasn’t about the snowman, of course. It was about the day. The snow. And the person you were sharing it with. 

Rafe, snowman expert and reluctant snow-lover, was the best part of it all.

©GIRLYRAFE

[silvaurum]

from the article above:

"We live in a culture that demonizes and oversimplifies abuse, probably because we don’t want to accept the reality that abuse is actually commonplace and can be perpetrated by anybody.

A lot of people paint themselves into corners denying abuse because, to be quite honest, it’s terrifying to face the consequences, real and imagined, of taking responsibility."

"If we are ever to see the dream of transformative justice become a widespread reality, we must collectively resist the culture of disposability that says that people who have done harm are no longer people[...]

I can only suggest that when it comes to ending abuse, it’s easier to face our fear than live in it all of our lives. It’s more healing to tell the truth than to hide inside a lie."

"Being accountable is not about earning forgiveness. That is to say, it doesn’t matter how accountable you are — nobody has to forgive you for being abusive, least of all the person you have abused.

In fact, using the process of “doing” accountability to manipulate or coerce someone into giving their forgiveness to you is an extension of the abuse dynamic. It centers the abuser, not the survivor."

"Rather, self-accountability is about learning how we have harmed others, why we have harmed others, and how we can stop.

But…

You do have to forgive yourself.

Because you can’t stop hurting other people until you stop hurting yourself.

When one is abusive, when one is hurting so much on the inside that it feels like the only way to make it stop is to hurt other people, it can be terrifying to face the hard truth of words like abuse and accountability.

One might rather blame others, blame society, blame the people we love, instead of ourselves.

This is true, I think, of community as well as individuals. It is so much easier, so much simpler, to create hard lines between good and bad people, to create walls

to shut the shadowy archetype of “the abuser” out

instead of mirrors to look at the abuser within."

"It takes courage to be accountable. To decide to heal. But when we do decide, we discover incredible new possibilities.

There is good and bad in everyone. Anyone can heal, given the right circumstances, and everyone can heal, given the same."

the thing is, if your younger self was a bigot or an abuser, u can't make people forgive you. but you still gotta forgive yourself, like that's non-negotiable, dude. that happens before u can even ask the question of earning forgiveness from anyone lese

[waffleboyy]

Rambles under the cut

i like to think Dale was actually a fairly happy kid, especially when he got discovered by Doug, but as he matured and thought back on his situation he grew more hateful and resentful because no one cared to find or look for him for SEVEN YEARS, so why should he care about anyone else? I'm sure doug gave him a good home, and Dale, (much like dev) really admires his father but dale cares more so about how people perceive him rather than actually being cared for, because he doesn't know the difference.

Dale also grew really materialistic to make sure he never had to fear going back to that lemonade sweat shop ever again, which is why he's so attached to his boots rather than his son, because people have failed him before but money and goods have never left him. also I know...basic, sorry, but out of any of the characters, he. HE! He has autism. Dale is not very good at masking and he doesn't make an effort to hide it, but it's kind of hard to notice since he's always alone, and everyone just chalks it up as "capitalist guy who has no sense of the common man" , which is true but let me have fun. Like he never wants to see people despite being a millionaire and like public figure? He says random weird phrases that are just kind of out of touch, and he most likely has an aversion to physical touch as well because I KNOW dev has never gotten a hug. also he's very blunt and doesn't sugar coat anything he says, and while that may be because "he's a millionaire he doesn't have to care about what he says" I like to think it's because he genuinely has no social awareness. At all. He just does whatever the fuck he wants and good for him, kind of. ( Not really) ... Also the statue and the boots thing is simply because he does love his boots more than dev, like it's just a fact. He doesn't hate his son or he didn't do that just to rub it in , it's just a genuine fact for him that he values his boots, material things, things that never hurt him, over his son. I could talk about different examples all day but this is getting too long lol.

Also random head canon, But Dale has asthma and valley fever from all of the untouched dust and dirt filling his lungs from the lemonade stuff, but he's also been able to hold a resistance from needing an inhaler or breathing machine because of it, so he rarely needs it maybe once in a blue moon. Dev also has asthma, but he's literally like. A baby. While his dad is more immune to needing it, dev is just always cooped inside so he's never built any resistance so he needs it frequently.

hehe sorry ok I'm done... probably.... probably not...

[writerwhowritesao3]

Mildly obsessed with the idea that angels (and nephilim) see more colors than humans do.

Jack doesn't realize that sometimes he sees things that Sam and Dean don't. It just never comes up.

But then one day, he and Sam are poking around one of the storage rooms in the bunker, and Sam discovers a big box of prisms in various shapes and sizes.

"Oh man, I used to love playing with these when I was a kid!" he says with a huge smile.

"Are they game pieces?" Jack asks, picking a pyramid-shaped one.

"They're called prisms," Sam says. "Come on, I'll show you."

Sam takes Jack up to the roof, the latter carefully carrying the box. On the way up, he explains about light refractions. Jack listens with rapt attention, as he always does whenever Sam teaches him things. He's pretty sure that Sam is the smartest human in the world. Or, at least, the smartest human that Jack has ever met.

When they get to the roof, Sam shows him how to angle the prisms just right so that a rainbow appears on the floor.

"It's like magic!" Jack exclaims.

"Nah, it's just science," Sam laughs.

Science was so freakin' cool.

They spend the next few minutes holding up multiple prisms, trying to get the perfect angles to combine the rainbows together into one big super-rainbow.

"Okay, I got these four to merge," Jack says, holding two prisms between the fingers of each hand.

"Almost." Sam nods. "I think if you maybe lift them higher, you can get the colors to touch."

"They are touching," Jack says. "See?"

Sam looks at the ground again. There's about an inch and a half of space between each rainbow.

"The color right next to the violet on this one is overlapping with the color next to the red on that one, and then also the color next to that color," Jack continues.

Sam moves his gaze from the ground to Jack. He tries to spot the kid's usual tells—the ones he has whenever he tries to pull a prank on him, Dean, or Cas.

"What are the names of those colors, by the way?" Jack asks, and then clarifies: "The English names. I only know them in Enochian."

Sam realizes that Jack isn't joking around.

"It's so weird. These colors are everywhere, but I've never been able to find crayons that match them," Jack continues.

"Um...I don't know, buddy," Sam says. He tries to keep his tone casual. "I bet Cas knows, though."

"Probably," Jack agrees. "Cas pretty much knows everything."

Sam chuckles and shoots a quick text to Dean:

something weird on roof. bring cas

Dean and Cas materialize on the roof a few seconds later. Castiel almost never flies in the bunker; he's learned that most humans find it unsettling and rude to suddenly appear before them, and he doesn't want to make his human family uncomfortable in their own home—and he wants to set a good example for Jack.

Cas looks worried. He wouldn't fly if he didn't think it was absolutely necessary. Sam feels mildly guilty for how he phrased his text.

"What's wrong?" Dean immediately asks, already scanning the roof for potential threats.

"Nothing's wrong," Sam says. "Can both of you come over here real quick?"

When they do, Sam points at the colors on the ground.

"Are these rainbows touching?" he asks.

"No," Dean says, at the same time that Cas says, "Yes."

"You and Dean can't see these colors?" Jack asks, bewildered.

"They can't," Cas answers. "Humans can only see a certain spectrum of color. Other species, like mantis shrimp, can see more. But still not as many as angelic beings."

"So you and Jack just see a bunch of crazy colors all the time?" Dean says. "That's trippy as hell."

"How are we just learning about this now?" Sam says.

"It's never come up," Cas shrugs. He goes over to Jack and picks a couple more prisms out of the box to inspect and angle in the sunlight.

They stay on the roof to watch the sunset. Sam and Dean ask Cas and Jack if they see any extra colors. They do.

Later that night, Jack tries to describe the colors that he and Cas can see. He's unsuccessful, but the effort is appreciated.

One of the ways Jack tries to describe the colors is in terms of taste, physical sensation, and sound. Which is how Sam and Dean learn that angels and nephilim experience varying degrees of synesthesia.

[ash-and-starlight]

BOOKS OF 2024

the list nobody asked for. again <3 i think this time around i read less books than the previous year?? but still 😤 we did it boys we read some fine books. reviews under the cut since i love yapping and i cant be fucked to make a goodreads account

Cromorama - Riccardo Falcinelli this book was sooo cool so engaging so interesting, its a look into the history and science of colors but its also so much more rlly one of my favorite nonfictions of all time

The Murderbot Diaries - Martha Wells disclaimer I only read this series up to Rogue Protocol, but I enjoyed it, I rlly liked the characters and the worldbuilding and the short novel format and most of all murderbooottt my best friend murderbot. when im in the mood for scifi again ill read the rest asw I prommyy

On Earth We're Briefly Gorgeous - Ocean Vuong this is one of those books that as u read it you can already tell it will stay with you forever, dont be fooled by the shortness every single line will Kill You. it will kill you dead.

The Seven Moons of Maali Almeida - Shehan Karunatilaka probably my fav book of the year, it's beautiful it's gripping it's deep it's scathing it's irreverent it has a careful and deeply cultural magical surrealism it has sociopolitical satire it won the booker prize of 2022 and deserved it so much

Fuori le Palle! Privilegi e Trappole della Mascolinità - Victoire Tuaillon ill be hoooneestt I didn't find this uhh as groundbreaking as I was kinda expecting it to be?? but still it was a nice read and the "flipped" perspective to center the myth of """masculinity""" in a feminist text was interesting. also rlly pretty cover

Lavinia - Ursula K. Le Guin Ursula girl u did it again! constantly rising the bar for all of us!! another stunning book that sadly fell victim to the #girlboss tiktokification but DONT LET THAT STOP YOUUU its sooo good. bitches Love pre-hellenistic latin society <333 bitches love even more when the boundaries between story and characters and reality and fiction blur in such a masterful way that Lavinia can have a conversation with Vergil and it doesn't feel not even the littlest bit forced or out of place <333

Exordia - Seth Dickinson Went in for the giant snake alien/human toxic yuri stayed for the weird mystery body horror stuff almost left for the overabundance of USA military stuff that I just can't be bothered to care about. I liked it way less than the masquerade but it Does have all the classical elements that make it a Seth Dickinson book aka fucked up women. Imperialism Critique. the horrors. the trolley problem. being Very Long. etc

Iron Widow - Xiran Jay Zhao wow guys. this book fucking sucked. like I'm speechless. you'd think that with the crazy popular rep it has it would have smth worth salvaging but uhhh- anyway go stream cocoon by corrupter which is iron widow if it was actually good

Fire from Heaven - Mary Renault nothing more special than a cultured fujo and her special golden shiny perfumed blorbo that everyone wants to fuck so bad <333 finally a book that healed my tsoa related trauma, the only thing that could've made it better is if hephaestion discovered brat taming

The Spear Cuts Through Water - Simon Jimenez beautiful and with such a dreamy magical atmosphere once again I LOVEEE interwoven stories, and I feel like some of the writing's style Choices are so original. it starts a bit slow tbh but I found it impossible to put down from the second half of the book til the end

Voyage of the Damned - Frances White well. it was a cherished super pretty shiny gift from a beloved friend so that's why I finished it but uh. uhhMMMMM uhghhh whhhhfhhmmm uhhhhh hmmmmm uhhhhh. yeah. I'm iconic 💅

Bad Gays: a Homosexual History - Ben Miller, Huw Lemmey ill be honest I didn't expect to like this book as much as I did but its really nice!! its a critique and analysis of white male gayness told through the lives of some Notable Controversial Homos, and I liked how it rlly paints a full picture not only of their lives but also of the socio-political landscape that shaped them and the concept of queernes of the time. only lil gripe tho is why there was only One woman and One Japanese guy then-

[seewetter]

Sure, that makes sense, but the people seeing a self-conflicting value system aren't wrong:

A huge point of transphobic rhetoric is using the naturalistic fallacy and arguing that cis people are natural and that transition is unnatural. The recent statement from the Catholic church that trans people are risking declaring themselves gods is a way to justify the cis norm against transition by arguing that transition is unique and thus abnormal because modifies people from their natural state.

I agree that this conversation likely leads nowhere, I agree that it may not matter what people think about this topic, but we can at least acknowledge that the instinct to point to cis people who do gender-affirming modifications to their bodies is not a bad instinct. Those cis people are "playing god" with their bodies just as much. And it's completely normalized and doesn't cause some church reminder not to risk playing god please.

I find that posts like these end up doing two things.

1. they make trans people (like the OP) not understand other trans people (the "naive trans people").

2. they make decent observations out to be trivial and so people start feeling ashamed to voice those observations. Which causes them to fall out of use. And then, 10 years from now, we get a new discourse cycle because someone re-discovered and found use for those supposedly useless observations.

Sorry, but just because observations of hypocrisy usually don't do much to persuade bigots and closed-minded people, doesn't mean that noticing these hypocrisies isn't helpful. I genuinely think that a lot of trans people have a lot better mental health the more wrong and less well-thought-out they realize transphobes are. So pointing out the hypocrisies can have value and it is not something you should just dismiss. I want informed trans people, not trans people who keep "discovering" small insights over long stretches of time that they could have learned really quick if we didn't mock every observation about transphobic hypocrisies.

"most gender affirming care is actually for cis ppl, isn't that hypocritical?" well they're affirming and reinforcing the societal structure of assigned gender so no actually. if they could they'd want you to get surgery to make you line up with your coercive gender assignment too, and very often they do, especially to kids.

[luninewnk]

ㅤㅤㅤ 𝅄⠀       ִ ㅤㅤ(◞ ◟ )ྀིഒ  ׁ ׅ ㅤ꒱ LUNINE'S INTRO

ꔫ  ࣪ ˖ ♡ ໒꒰՞ ܸ. .ܸ՞꒱ა

ㅤ┈֯⠀ ͚֯ 𝅘ྀི𝅥ㅤ   WELCOME. ㅤㅤㅤ🎀🎀

hmm...hi? well, I don’t even know why I’m doing this (and no one’s probably going to read this — and I don’t blame you for that), but here we go 😝😝😝. I DON'T KNOW HOW TO MAKE A PRETTY BLOG 😭😭😭😭

. ⍟ 🎀ㅤㅤ𝗔𝗕𝗢𝗨𝗧 𝗠𝗘 — ABOUT ME

so... my name is lunine (not my real name, just a nickname i got in my 2000s fame dr, and since ioved it so much, i decided to use it as my username ✨️). i’m 19 years old (but mentally i look like a 10 year old child — gojo... i see myself in you 🫵🏼🫵🏼 ). i have ADHD, and because of that, i get way more attached to my drs and s/o's than “normal people” probably do (i have crazyyyy hyperfixations). my pronouns are she/her. idk what is my sexuality (but i'm all, but heterosexual). i have a journal where i love rambling about my s/o's — i adore chattering on about both of them haushauahsuah (i'm cheesy, i know).

i've been a shifter for 4 years (yep, i discovered shifting during the fracotok era — back in 2020. but unlike others, my goal wasn’t harry potter, but boku no hero academia — I WAS OBSESSED WITH DABI AND NEEDED him to eat me 😭😭😭😭). but over the years, I’ve only tried shifting to my dr about 15 times (99% of the time, I just daydreaming and seeing fanfiction).

I LOVE throwing myself into dangerous dr's (especially apocalypse ones). why? because yes. I love adrenaline, okay? I find drs like that way more interesting (just my opinion, guysss). my friends call me crazy for choosing drs like TWD or The Last of Us. but so what???? i’ve always loved the apocalypse vibe. like, it’s so badass, yummyyy. who can judge me? ��💋💋

   𓊆ྀི . . . 𓊇ྀི ⠀⠀⑅ ₊  𐙚 𓂃 ࣪ ◌ 𓊆ྀི . . . 𓊇ྀི ⠀⠀⑅ ₊  𐙚 𓂃 ࣪ ◌

. ⍟ 🎀ㅤㅤ𝗠𝗬 𝗗𝗥's — MY DR's

i have a lot of DRs, like, A LOT. sooo i’m not going to list them all here (mainly because some of them are ones i created after daydreaming and don’t even have names/scripts for yet 😭😭😭). I’ll just mention my favorites and the main ones.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ┈֯⠀ ͚֯ 𝅘ྀི𝅥ㅤ ㅤmy main realities ㅤㅤ🎀

O1 ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤjujutsu kaisen

O2 ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤthe last of us (first game)

O3ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ fame dr 2000s

O4 ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤwaiting room

O5ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ band dr (this dr is kind of a mix of fame dr and tlou 2 hauhsyahaa)

O6ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ the walking dead

O7ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ supernatural

   𓊆ྀི . . . 𓊇ྀི ⠀⠀⑅ ₊  𐙚 𓂃 ࣪ ◌ 𓊆ྀི . . . 𓊇ྀི ⠀⠀⑅ ₊  𐙚 𓂃 ࣪ ◌

. ⍟ 🎀ㅤㅤ𝗢𝗧𝗛𝗘𝗥𝗦 — OTHERS

my favorite color is pink and black .

i love nature, astronomy, shifting, animes, fantasy, fictional universes, daydreaming, animals (mainly cats), summer/spring, playing games, old songs, listening to music, drawing, dancing, reading, etc.

i hate machistas, sexists, anti-shifters, racists, people who judge other people's DRs, homophobes, shiftoks who have a 2020 mentality, etc (if you are one of those... GET OUT OF HERE)

my s/o's are almost triple my age (no judgement, guys) 😍😍😍. I LOVE DILFS 🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦

I AM ACCEPTING NEW FRIENDS 🎀🫶🏼 (caall me)

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

well... I think that's all (if I remember anything else to add, I'll update it here)

mwah mwah, lunine.

[vaguely-concerned]

so for obvious reasons, rye is not generally all that popular with most of the senior watchers. however. I think there is a certain type of younger watcher to whom he is The ultimate hot badboy icon and fantasy. (we're talking about a group of extreme indoor kid goth nerds who've barely been outside. it doesn't take a lot ot achieve bad boy status in this context and the only thing in this world that lasts forever is a bad reputation in a small insular group like the watchers.) it's SO funny because rye thinks of himself as such a disappointing fuckup of a son of the grand necropolis. and meanwhile there are novices kicking their feet and giggling as they're like

'Ingellvar is so cool. no one knows where he's from he was found down here as a baby. mysterious orphan appeal. he could be a secret dalish prince or something for all we know. (*annoyed extra nerd watcher novice voice*: umm actually the dalish don't have princes, merrivar?? read a real book sometime maybe???) he's a rebel. he doesn't care what the senior watchers think no time for politics he just gets the job done. (*small sad rye voice* I care a lot what the senior watchers think actually. a pathetic amount, in fact. it just rarely seems like it helps anything at all) I heard he graduated almost top of his class even though he spent all his time as a student partying up in the city and having a torrid affair with the son of a noble family. sometimes in his spare time he wears a cool punk leather jacket but like the fantasy version of that. he has tattoos apparently but no one's seen them for years. yuh-uh it's true too, I know someone who knows someone he dated once. they say he saw a knife fight once. like, in a bar brawl, with living people. all that, and he's even sneakily emotionally unavailable. *starry-eyed sigh* what a dreamboat'.

needless to say this only grows worse with the events of the game, after he takes out the formless one and rumours start to spread that he maybe killed a god or something too???? and this being nevarra, more importantly he's out there killing dragons with his sworn companions?? like a fucking fairytale prince but with that devil-may-care rebellious streak???? he's the safely unavailable first crush at a distance of many a young watcher. now imagine the reaction when he shows up home for the first time in a year after the war of the banners accompanied by The one true bad boy fantasy to rule them all: literally the sad brooding crown prince of the crows of antiva in leather pants who has WINGS and a dark tortured side of his nature that he has to constantly battle against for the sake of those he loves.

(the perception vs. reality situation for both of these characterizations is. so unspeakably hilarious needless to say. consider how much of the above lucanis characterization is accurate to the person he actually is and then you've basically found the level of distortion lens being applied to rye as well. is most of it technically true? sure. 'technically' is having to do a whole world of heavy lifting there tho fhdfska)

what I'm really saying here is that there is a subsection of this group that's been ferociously writing rye/lucanis rpf from the moment they were seen trotting down into the necropolis depths together (other pairings within the lighthouse gang as a whole, caught in tantalizing glimpses as they visit the necropolis, of course having their own devotees), and when this fandom subgroup eventually discover they were right it's with all the insane glee of a sixteen year old fanfic writer on wattpad (is that still where the kids are these days. idk i'm getting old folks) finding out that their dark mafia prince AU is basically true. varric might be gone but the legacy of friendfiction lives on after him. the king of thedas rpf being the shoulders of titans that young watchers are standing on to write fevered WILDLY inaccurate depictions of the private life of two of the most low-key domestic quietly devoted and undramatic people on the continent, one of them being varric's own poor little meow meow slash mentee, is something that can actually be so personal. rye does not end up terribly famous in the end considering the shit he manages to get done in this game, and he thanks his lucky stars for it. but to a tight-knit community of mourn watch fic writers he is blorbo from my apocalypse. it's all I could have wished for him.

(funniest possible outcome of all this: myrna gets so fucking tired of trying to understand what the novices are being so tittery about that she asks rye 'watcher ingellvar with the realization that this is a long shot and the admission that vorgoth and I have exhausted all other avenues of investigation: do you possess secret insight about what an 'x reader' is. and also 'ship war'. your name seems to come up in this context a surprising amount'. 9000000 points of incoming psychic damage about to hit the fan.)

[opinion-haver]

these replies perfectly summarize how we got to the issue of devaluing human connection in the first place and how this post is pretty much exacerbating the issue:

“yall are so dumb” - this sentiment writes off an entire population of people who are struggling. literally destroying human connections directly. and i think that in and of itself is dumb

“this is sooooo dystopian” -its pretty obvious how people running to ai therapists fullblown sucks and is dystopian but one must not forget that pointing at an issue isnt actually addressing it, especially when the comparison is rooted in nostalgia.

“these people are pitiful”- another strain of thinking people are so dumb. its patronizing. if you cant find shared humanity— if you cant see within yourself a version that would succumb, you dont understand the problem.

honorable mention: the tools introduced above lend a very fun look into how ineffectual the system is and how these tools dont address at all the reasons why one would speak to an ai therapist in the first place.

worksheets: if i was going through a breakup or panic attack or some shit equivalent you would be absolutely kidding me to think that i would open up a worksheet. im suicidal not a masochist. zero humanity in that response.

chart-games: i find these useful, i even made a modified in-browser personal guide just for myself. but the issue is that most of the times conscious malaise isnt often cured by just eating or drinking just because you forgot. and thats if you remember to go to the website when youre doing badly in the first place. if im in hell im checked the fuck out.

finch: as a daily user of finch, i know directly how helpful this tool can be. it pairs the dopamine rush of games with executive function, like so many other gamified trackers out there. i like the data analysis personally, reflections are so useful to knowing yourself from day to day. but its very much trying to monetize your self care. to gate some of its tools behind a premium subscription because (paraphrase) “you deserve self care” is insidious as hell. and the ways it treats you is patronizing. i know youre dressing up a cartoon bird but i dont think helping the bird discover it likes baby shark is particularly salient to the aging tumblr userbase

ok so ive complained a whole lot. but in order to put money where my mouth is, whats the solution?

well obviously! to foster human connection of course. if these people dont know what real human connection is like its because nobody has BEEN real human connection for them. and vice versa— if you strawman these people into mindless idiots then clearly you dont understand their psyche.

in lieu of an ai therapist, reach out to a gd friend.

if you dont got friends, go make em. its ez. outside is easiest— show up to some kind of local thing or the other. it doesnt have to mesh with you completely but learning about Hetero Jessicas worklife balance is way more illustrative of human reality than chatgpt. but outside is not the only way. go ping someone random. get over the initial fear. fall in love with strangers. learn about their cats and trade cat pictures or some shit. its not easy but its worth it. hell, if you want to dm me i might even reply, if im not busy.

solidarity saved me. it can save you too.

guys. please

[petrichorium]

i will always support u making my posts about robot fucking

I was thinking abt soundwave in particular and how it starts with pure curiosity. You’re so soft and pliable, and every part of you is so sensitive. He has to be so gentle but it’s downright hypnotizing to prod at you and feel the soft give of your fragile flesh. You give him bared dentae and pouting dermas (teeth, humans call them. Lips. Odd little organics with strange terms that somehow suit your familiar-yet-foreign features) but they'd take more damage than they could possibly give if you attempted to use them on him, so it’s cute more than anything else.

Cuter still are the sounds you make. Piercing shrieks and little wobbles to the words of your empty threats only get louder and more shrill when his servos press against certain areas—the sides and front of your chest, the line of your neck where it throbs with life, the bottoms of your minuscule pedes. And then he discovers the noises he can pull from your lips when his digits slide between your legs.

You're so tiny, easy to squeeze too hard, so he decides his probes are better to use than his sharp digits. They hold you down as he watches, stoic and unmoving, no matter how much you squirm and thrash. That little bud swells to attention beneath the cool touch of his feelers and your protests give way to the prettiest pleading until something breaks and suddenly you're sobbing, optics glistening with fluid, dainty arms clutching at his probe for support rather than to push away. An overload, surely, or whatever your kind's version of such a thing would possibly be; despite himself, Soundwave finds himself preening at the idea. He keeps going past countless peaks and crashes until your voice has gone hoarse—keeps going beyond that, because you’re giving him different noises now and he’s not about to miss out on everything he can possibly pull from you. He doesn't stop until you've gone completely limp and he realizes your weak little body has been forced into that pesky recharge state that humans require so pitifully often. You're lucky he finds your noises compelling enough that he bothered to request one of those soft berths your kind prefers.

You aren't nearly as thankful as he deserves. You test his patience, days spent being fussy and uncooperative until you manage to tuck yourself away in a corner too small for him to pry you out without harm, and that's when he loses enough patience to forego the niceties. He plays the recordings you didn't even realize he took—your breathy moans and choked-off whines, every sob and keen and heave that now lives safely tucked away in his memory banks for him to peruse whenever he so pleases. He can't see you from where you cower, but he can sense how your faceplate heats up and hear the increasingly rapid pattering of your tiny organic heart, and though your alien body cannot generate the emfs his kind uses for their most intimate form of communication his own spark stutters with a wicked kind of excitement at your instinctive reaction.

His fortitude, after all, will prove much stronger than your obstinance. You'll emerge from your cold little nest and welcome his beckoning servo soon enough.