#if you remove all the bullshit about needing to submit

[hotchocolatelovesyou]

PLEASE SOMEBODY BETTER TELL ME SHE'S NOT GONNA [REDACTED] HIM LIKE THIS I BEG OF YOU WHAT IS THIS 😭😭😭😭😭

[yourgamemasterthewhiterabbit]

They (the ear piercings) look gendered to /you/! This is actually internalized sexism, as in, you were taught that it was "girly" when you grew up and now are under the impression that there is any kind of correlation between being a girl or a boy and the kind of piercings you wear (or more generally the way people decide to dress).

The impression that boys or men can't have the same ear piercings as most girls without being men or without it being at least a bit feminizing is incredibly sexist.

The same thing goes for girls and women and everything people consider masculine. So what? A girl can't play football without being a tomboy? Can't play in the dirt and be rowdy? A woman can't be loud and take place, wear short hairs and wear comfy clothes?

None of this is against you, this is a societal problem, but we could all do with more awareness of it.

All of this to say, I don't think you should feel bad about the ear piercings looking girlish (even if it can be hard). Not submitting to gender stereotypes is rad as hell, you could feel proud of it.

Pardon the anonymous ask, reading your post made me feel bad for you while making me really angry and by the time it was better I had already written all of this. I could delete it all and go on my way, but I still hope maybe it will help you feel better about your piercings.

Feel free to ignore it if you want.

I'm going to stop you right fucking there.

This is stealth TERF rhetoric, and you should be careful who you are learning this from and who you are repeating it to.

Listen to me you little shit <3

Recognizing that external culturally normal gender signifiers are read by OTHER PEOPLE as signifying gender isn't "Internalized sexism U.U" It's called understanding social norms.

People also gender me "female" more when I concede to wearing a dress or wearing pink. Because that's the common bias, not because it's what -I- believe.

And I don't need to be told I ought to feel comfortable wearing pink otherwise I am sexist.

Understanding what the common bias is doesn't mean I believe it myself, you absolute wad.

You should be aware that what you are spouting is TERF rhetoric.

Where "abolish gender" only applies when someone is trans. I am going to charitably assume you might have meant this by accident, or aren't thinking straight right now and dignify this with a response.

Telling a trans man he should "just wear pink and dresses and have pierced ears, because that shouldn't be considered gendered, that's on you U.U" is fucking TERF rhetoric Telling a transmasc that he "can like programming and cars and mechanics and be "tom boy", but can -and is implicitly encouraged to- still identify as a girl u.u"

IS FUCKING TERF RHETORIC

I am not going to ignore it because I have more respect for you as a human being than that.

Either this is "just say'n" U.U softgirlTM TERF bullshit done knowingly...

Or you should be aware you are being led down dark path.

I would like to reiterate that the pierced ears do not make me internally uncomfortable because they "feel girly" to me, they make me uncomfortable because OTHER PEOPLE take them along with other visual cues as an excuse to keep misgendering me.

I am not being sexist, I am recognizing that I live in a sexist society and am being perceived by other people who treat me differently depending on whether I pass TO THEM. There is a big fucking difference.

Pierced ears don't just look girly to /me/ they look girly to every chucklefuck around me who tries to call me "mam".

I don't even normally think about my ears, I'm just very aware they are one of the "gender signifiers" people pick up on, along with boobs or longer hair, to add together and have them say "miss" instead of "sir".

There is a REASON one common transition surgery for trans men is to have their ear piercings REMOVED. It is explicitly because people read it as a gender signifier.

Part of my discomfort with it also breaks down to "yes I agreed to get them pierced, but under the impression I could take them out after a day and let them heal shut, only to find out my step mother was making it her personal mission to make sure I kept them specifically because they are a gender signifier."

Choosing how to adorn your body is very different from having that choice forced onto you.

Choosing to wear pink as a transmasc is different from being FORCED to wear pink and being told that if you don't like how it makes people see you, that you're the one who's sexist. You need to unlearn this shit.

[roblingoblin285]

Day 77: Human shield (Fall From Grace)

Media/universe: Fall From Grace (OCs)

“Step back,” Rem warned, pressing the palm of her hand into the side of Sage’s head. “One move and they’re incinerated, Rob. Don’t you fucking move.”

Rob stopped in his tracks, knowing all too well what Rem’s fire ability could do to human flesh. “Phoenix-”

“Cut the code name bullshit, Rob.” Sage drew a sharp breath as Rem tightened her hold around their neck, taking another step away from the healer. “You’re letting me walk, along with the villain. Or you’re both dead.”

“Rem, wait a minute,” Rob said urgently. “This doesn’t have to go down like this. You can let them go, bring back their mask or something. You can get all the glory for the defeat, just don’t kill them.”

Rem paused, still holding Sage as a shield between her and Rob. “Why do you care?” she asked, gripping the back of the villain’s neck tighter. “Why do you want them alive?”

Rob’s breath hitched as he glanced between Rem’s dark look and Sage’s desperate one. “Just- let them go,” he whispered. “Please, Rem.”

The hero frowned at Rob, scrutinizing his expression, and sighed. “I can’t fucking win with you,” she muttered, sending Sage forward with a hard shove. The villain stumbled, falling to their knees, and Rob rushed forward to help them up.

“I’ve got you,” he said quietly, slinging their arm over his shoulder. “You’re alright.”

“Thank you,” Sage whispered, hiding their face against Rob’s arm. “You- I couldn’t-”

“I know,” Rob soothed, glancing at Rem warily. “Let’s go, pops. I’ll fix you up.”

“We’re not done,” Rem said sharply, and Rob could feel Sage flinch. “We still need to-”

“You and Sage are done,” the healer all but spat. “I’m taking them home. You and I can talk later.”

A discontented look passed over Rem’s face, but she reluctantly nodded and stepped away. Rob breathed a sigh of relief.

“Alright,” he said softly to the shaking villain in his arms. “Let’s go home.”

thanks for reading! please comment/submit an ask if you would like to be added to or removed from the taglist. Asks and questions about characters or plot are always welcome! 365 writing challenge taglist: @stabby-nunchucks @sapphobugz Fall From Grace taglist: @thekittyburger

[csmeaner]

Speaking of Scarfoxes, I’ve voided mine out of the species permanently and it feels good to be free. Still waiting for them to update the ML, but it’ll be about another 3 weeks yet because of their stupid fucking void/unvoid rules imposing a 28-day wait on processing the request because they want to “be sure it’s what the user wants.”

I understand it was added because of the fury towards Darci and her bullshit when she tried to push out the $70 void fee and the Discord turned on her, but it’s been almost a year since then and I don’t see the justification in waiting anymore. People wouldn’t ask to void (or unvoid) if they weren’t certain they wanted it so the wait is just irritating.

Strangely, the mods don’t even have clear communication with each other at this point it seems, because when the void rules were drafted up, it was very clearly stated that permission from OG artist or designer wasn’t needed because you can’t control what you don’t own, but I had someone slide into my DMs after submitting my void request to tell me I DID need permission from the artists to void and it was just… ???????????????? How is it that a CS staff team can’t even be on the same page with each other??? Bro…

You know the ML won’t even approve anything before 3 days by CHOICE? Fucking why!? I’ve never seen a CS staff so allergic to doing their basic duties. I liked the species for its designs/anatomy, and tbh I still do, but I just can’t stick around anymore with such abysmal management and rules that just draw things out for no reason.

There’s no joy anymore, and there hasn’t been for a long time. I held on, hoping things might get better like a naive fool, but at this point I really just… I can’t anymore. Too many times I’ve had contradicting information thrown at me, and the same has happened to friends of mine, and very recently I got fucked over on a design update so I’m done. The design update issue was the final straw for me.

Worst part is I can’t even get my money back now, but that’s my own fault; I bought two items second hand specifically for the design update (because they were discounted by the seller) and now I have no use for them, but I can’t even fucking get rid of them… Hell, even selling the foxes themselves is getting more difficult at this point, which is why I opted to void. (Plus, maybe it’s petty of me but I’d rather keep my designs than resell them and have them end up in certain peoples’ hands… I did put a lot of work into developing them and even as generic furries I’m still attached to them.)

I’m sticking around the discord presently because I’m owed art (and really, really hate having to friend people just for business transactions), but at this point there’s no interest left for me in the species. On one hand it’s hard to watch something you’ve been a part of for six years slowly crawl into its grave, but on the other hand, it’s better to move on once something stops being enjoyable. Unless Darci is removed from the equation, I don’t think things will ever improve and she’s determined to take Scarfoxes to its grave rather than hand it over to someone else, so it’s better if the species just hurried up and dies at this point.

Either way, not my concern anymore. Thanks to the design update bullshit I have a fun new character design that isn’t bound by rules and restrictions, and soon all of my other voided designs will be just as free to change and use the way I want them to be. I’m so happy. Leaving most of the CS I was in was the best decision I’ve made.

Also got my Edeia designs voided for free too, finally, which was funny as hell because some of the ones that got voided didn’t even belong to me anymore.

Sorry for the ramble. Needed to get some things off my chest…

damn bitch i remember you from before and you're still being forced to wait to leave? shit sucks. if anything enforcing a wait period would make people even more eager to detach themselves fully

scarfox has got to be one of the saddest cs stories so far. it was never perfect but instead of being made better it was just twisted and mangled into a sad heap by one delusional idiot that can't even wipe their own ass

[theorist-influencer-untitled]

1.15.23 Monday

9:07 am

Here in Conduent, as usual taking my brunch here in the pantry... Still, tight budgeting....

I saw someone named Mark from Delta account, I asked if I can microwave my plastics food lunch box coz I'm not sure if this is microwavable... Then, he said yeah! you can microwave that but just remove the cover...

Hmmm....I rode the bus from Salitran this San Agustin routing supposed to be going to Macapagal/ Double Dragon then when we were at the coastal the ticket boy said there was a sudden operation that the bus couldn't pass by there...

What else can I do? To accept that life is not always a bed of roses hoping for a sausage which I have here now...

I still feel this song, for Peachy/ Peaches and Peach...

9:36 am

Seeing this now here in the pantry...

" All you need is the plan,the road map, and the courage to press on to your destination"

By: Earle Nightingale

Wow! Amazing....

3:43 pm

I feel bullshit! I need to do a retake on my finals, the exam was not easy...

Potang inah talagah! I just need a job! Hmm...What is the point of battery test and pre-initial test and midterm that I passed...

SHIT! I missed a one point! I feel like a student... I got 39 out of 50, the passing is 40 and above... Bullshit! Shit this call center!!!

The bad thing about this final test, the correct answers once you submit it, it will no longer load for you to know your right and wrong answers...

It will just load there as passed or failed... Hmmm...But I was thinking if it can be controlled by someone behind.... Possibly.... No impossible these days... Hmmm....

But on the midterm after you submit the answers,you will see your test exam with the correct and wrong answers....

Last week, I noticed that the article number is changing, remember? It is weird, right???

The bullshit about this retake since, it didn't load my exam awhile ago for me to be able to see my correct and wrong answers, how will I know my 11 wrong items???

4:09 pm

If they will kick me out, will go to Concentrix again or EXL... Shit! This call center until I can make it!

Until, I can get a better position in time...

5:41 pm

Yey! My retake is 90% 45 out of 50 but I asked a help from a friend Dave on some questions, on my wrong items...

Yehey! I'm still surviving.... Thank God!

8:56 pm

Going home and happy but flat... I hate Aizzy but I like her to be my friend inside Conduent coz she is the mature person there near my age though she is on a third gender... I feel sad in a way... I feel that she doesn't like me, coz I want her to accompany me going to the seaside but she said she needs to go home right away coz she needs to sleep....

I feel so empty that I can't gain a companion coz most of the people there in my class are young soul or half of my age... So, supposed to be I want Aizzy the doll to accompany me, I said she is so "kill joy"... But I also have the maturity to act as an adult that I shouldn't push her on something that she didn't want to do or probably she is just tired...

It takes 2 to tango... It is just weird nobody will accompany me to go to the seaside... I feel bitterish and self-pityish...

It is just weird... But of course, I have to work coz I need money... I badly need money for my future.

I feel so empty... But I need to work and I need money and I need a career growth... I wanna travel and for my vanity and John and other expenses...

I have to beat this call center,in a way.... It made me feel bitter, empty and questioning myself, why... Why? Why?

9:24 pm

I feel bitterish... I hope to meet a Daddy.... But it must be mutual... So, saddish angels... I wanna leave Cavite if I can in a way.. I need growth...

I still have windblow...

10:38 pm

Hmm.... I'm in the house now...While in the jeep from Salitran, I accidentally passed by our village gate so I dropped off in Area-G...Bullshit! Then, I have to wait for a jeep again going to Salitran..

[neptunianashes]

They always love the villain more, go read the comments of psychological murder cases and it's full of women in the comments, they fully know what they are doing, they want to date fuckboys until they are 40s and then settle with the nice guy in the frienzone who worked all his life only to end up with a woman that will never submit to him, will never be feminine to him, will never really love him and then after giving him a child will never give him sex anymore and then cheat on him because she missed the fuck boys that they were willingly let them fuck her at any time at any place with no conditions and submit to their feets every single day of the week. They do not want romance, they want a God to worship. Once you realize that women are pragmatics disguised as romantics there is really no turning back, you could be romantic to them, give them gifts, attention, flowers, respect them, be kind and understanding, cook her breakfast, write to them a long and emotional letter, compliment often and congratulation you got yourself a new friend. If you instead got yourself a lover then she is lying and is either a gold digger or is a former aged hoe looking to settle with a nice guy. Marriage with them is doomed to failure, they either get bored in 5 years and then cheat with a fuckboy, or they will not be able to do their marital duties with someone they perceive as inferior and then cheat. They are a disguised as romantics but if you do the opposite of what they say they want and instead ignore them, treat them like they are disposable, cheat on them with another women, degrade and humiliate them, remove all attention from them, and you got yourself a real women willing to be feminine and submit and do anything and love you for eternity. The moment you are the one who is chasing them and adoring them is the moment they lose all respect for you, their romance hunter is a masquerade and a complete lie. Most men grow up watching their friends cry and complain and hate and be hurt with men who treated like shit but if you are good with them, or give them love, or meet a new woman and try to be kind and not treat them like the guys they are always chasing but never reaching and she will immediately lose all attraction for you or friendzone you. As much as they hate those boys and complain about them, they are attracted to them like a moth to the light. You love a women and you will slowly but steadly lose them, they are the ones who want to be in the position of loving you and not the other way around. The first love a man should have is his work.. the first love of a man should not be a woman, it's a trap that it will ruin your life. It's time for men to say my way or the highway and lay down the law on women as soon as you meet her. Never commit to a woman quickly, get to know her well for many years before committing, they have to earn it themselves and you should pick only the best one for you to commit to, otherwise marriage will not work. Do not kneel for a pussy, a man who has control over his sexual needs is unbeatable, women have nothing to win against them. A man that wins more money than them does not need a woman with a career, if she is bossy because of her career it's like a natural repellent for men because if she is bossy then she is not feminine and they steal the leadership and masculine energy of him. If she is sexual or pervert at the initial stage then do not commit either, after marriage and securing you they will reduce drastically sexual interactions, instead it's better to search for one who is sincerely happy with a life of servitude being submissive, obedient and adapting to his frame, those are the only ones they will continue to be sexual after marriage. The worst enemies of women are pride, accountability, age and the passing of time. it's time for women to face them to change or suffer their own consequences and decisions because men will not tolerate women's bullshit anymore.

[venustransiens]

Week 5.5: We interrupt this broadcast

I was going to quietly post this on another blog/format and keep this blog “clean” and free of my complaints but it’s my thesis blog to show all the highs and lows of my last 6 months of grad school so why the hell shouldn’t I put this on here?

I don’t know if I am happy in academia in grad school or in anything like this. Every day I get on the internet(TM) and see someone talking about their work, studies, life being removed from syllabi or plans of study. I see students talking about entire degrees being dissolved or administration of liberal arts schools being literally fired by a governor??? or the collegeboard (the beast I hate so much) removing curricula from AP courses that is important for just basic human decency. 

None of this is new and I know that. But it is getting worse and every time I try to be a part of the “change” or functionally fix aspects of academia it all blows up in my face. I have been invited to speak at conferences about public discussions on education only for the conferences to be paywalled, invite-only, and in person. I have submitted work to journals at the request of conference organizers and been rejected on minuscule criteria in, what I believe, is an attempt to justify rejecting my field of research. Every day I come across new takes and bullshit that is being uplifted by these same academic institutions that rejected or belittled me and quickly I learn that what they really want to focus on is sterilized, white, cishet, ablebodied stories of academia, history, literature, everything.

And what happens when we try to change it? In the US, at least, we get pushed under a rug, develop health issues over the stress that we cant afford to take care of, and die far too young either due to stress, poverty, or a field that doesn’t support us. 

I love my studies and field so much it’s ridiculous and I want to stay connected to academia for my life and career (whatever career means now) but how can I want to do that when I am seeing the horrors of education at all levels in the US? How can anyone be expected to work in this field or study at these institutions now? 

I will finish my degree because at this point its out of spite. But what I do after is genuinely unclear to me. I entered graduate school ready to take on a PhD after and help change academia but I am soon to leave it more hopeless than before. I don’t know what the point of this post is, partially a vent and record keeper for myself later, but if you make it to the end of this then I guess it’s a warning about the education system currently and how you need to prepare for the absolute worst before accepting admission to an advanced degree in the united states.

[lavishedinjimin]

Criminal!jk x officer!reader ,,,, with handcuffs

This drabble is not suitable for everyone. Please do not read if you are not comfortable with any of the warnings stated below.

Warnings: dom!jk x sub!OC, Stockholm syndrome so kidnapped, mentions of attempted murder, manipulation.

Reminding everyone that all of this is pure imagination – nothing is real. :)

~

It's funny because Jungkook doesn't take these seriously. He loves what he does, and if he gets caught for the crimes he commits, the better. All the adrenaline he feels is his euphoria.

He sees life as a game, and laws are just challenges for him to defeat and defy.

Jeon Jungkook, aside from being the most hunted detrimental criminal, was just a huge rebel without a cause.

Jungkook has done this procedure many times before; he gets cuffed, taken to the police, into the cold, gloomy investigation room he goes where he either gets interrogated by an exhausted, bald man or a milf. There was no one in between.

Jungkook gets startled when the metal door flies open as you walk into the room, dropping the pile of papers down on the desk.

"Oh, wow," Jungkook smirks, eyeing you up and down, not expecting that someone like you would come in. "That's a snack right there."

"Good day, Mr. Jeon," you keep your professionalism intact, ignoring his defiant statement. Sitting down on the chair, you decide to be as straightforward as possible. "Ten counts of attempted homicide in the Maldives, running off to South Korea, then finally being caught here in my country. How you weren't caught after all your time of running, that's impressive."

Jungkook rests his arms on the steel table, eyes turning into little slits, "Impressive? Look at you, already being swayed by me." He takes a good look at you, dressed so formally. There's an itching feeling in him that tells him to just rip your uniform all apart.

"Why aren't you denying that you were the one behind those attempted murders?" You raise a brow at him, watching that egotistical expression on his face suddenly turns serious.

"Because I was caught red-handed in the Maldives," he says a matter-of-factly, "Maybe if I did kill those people, then that's when I'd start begging for your sympathy, ma'am." Jungkook says in a mocking, burlesquing manner, "You're a lucky girl, officer. I'm making your job easier."

"You're going to spend the rest of your life in prison, fool," you threaten him, using an authoritative tone as Jungkook examines your every move. "This is going to be the end of your games, Jeon Jungkook. I know who you are. I know what you do." You kick your chair back, standing up, and slowly circling the area where he sits. The single lightbulb in the room was the only thing that illuminated the space, creating an eerie atmosphere.

"We've heard about your escapes – all your little tips and tricks. Tell me, Jeon," you stay put on his side, looking down at him, "What kind of stunt will you pull off now, huh?"

He was silent for a couple of seconds. You take a couple of steps back, concealing the way you feel threatened by his intimidating gaze, you await an answer.

But as if on cue, the electricity shuts down, and all the lights cut off.

As complete darkness suffocates the two of you, Jungkook wastes no time to hold your wrists together in his hand, standing up. He grunts, fighting you until he steals the handcuffs that were attached around your belt. Gunshots, screams, and people running all over the place can be heard from outside.

He laughs devilishly as his strategy to escape was all going according to plan. Jungkook easily cuffs your wrists together as you were no match for his powerful build.

"You're mine now," he growls, "you're coming with me."

~

Jungkook not only had the most wicked mind, but he knows how to manipulate. Not that it was something he had to learn, but it naturally dawned on him. After all the bullshit he has gone through his life, manipulating you into submitting for him was easy.

At a cheap, discreet inn is where you both stayed. Jungkook had you laying down on the bed, almost half naked with only your panties left to be removed by him.

"Aren't you ashamed of yourself?" Jungkook jerks his head up, staring at you like you were his prey, "Being such a good and obedient submissive for me?"

He feels his heartstrings being pulled when you release an adorable 'yes'.

"Ohh, sweetie," he mocks, gripping your chin, "you're so fucking cute. I love how each day you become more soft and amenable. No more of that tough exterior you try so hard to put out, huh?" Jungkook comes closer to you, closing his eyes so that he can kiss your tender lips passionately. His hands hold onto your face. He loves the way you slightly moan and whimper against the kiss. Your mouths dance together in harmony, with each second passing you both feel more aroused and needy for touch.

Jungkook, after pulling away to allow you to catch your breath, bites down on your lower lip. This single motion made you feel goosebumps and shivers running down your spine.

"Now that you're with me, you can let go of all that power and authority in you. You finally don't have to be so serious all the time!" Jungkook exclaims as his hand roams down your sides, "Let me take control from now on, got that? You're safe and sound with me. No one will find us here."

You whimper when Jungkook leaves the bed, turning his back on you to get something. Your mouth waters from his muscular, athletic figure, only wearing tight black boxers that fit perfectly around his thighs and crotch area.

Jungkook, with a smirk, comes back with handcuffs. The same ones that you were supposed to use on him the day he was being interrogated.

"Recognize these?" he chuckles, crawling back over to you, "oh, how the tables have turned, baby girl."

"Jungkook, please, I want you so bad."

Jungkook sticks his bottom lip out, "Aw, I'll give you what you want, baby girl, I promise. Your dom doesn't have those cute, fluffy handcuffs that are made specifically for sex, but these are better in my opinion. They look more fucking legit."

Jungkook pulls his boxers down impatiently, his rock-hard cock springing up and in dying need of friction. You stare at it for a couple of seconds, your walls clenching, aching for his cock so bad.

He grabs each of your wrists and traps them onto the steel bands, tightening them just enough so that you can feel it graze against your skin. "And besides, isn't it more fun if there's a little pain?"

[sunscreenstudies]

Iconic Things My Coding Professors Have Said (Part 6)

"We'll have two follow-up sessions where you can present your thesis and then, as a group, dicuss your problems... with the thesis. Your problems with the THESIS. I should probably specify that"

"the dataset we're using is the queer csv file which is a very interesting and... naughty dataset”

"why do we like the wilcoxon test? well, it’s widely applicable, free of assumptions, insensitive to outliers, and conceptually simple... this could be a brochure"

"running the test is usually simple. interpreting the output is what makes statistics... fun"

Student: "can you explain what the e means?"   Prof 1: "of course, let me write it up"    Prof 2: "professor 1 studied mathetmatics"    Prof 1: " only for one year"   Prof 2: "well, that’s still more than i ever did"

"read through this at your own pace at home. i don't explain it in class becuase then i have to watch people's brains explode and the cleaning staff are starting to complain"

"we'll end with a very nice case on harry potter because it seems everyone loves harry potter so hopefully that'll make up for the boring statistics that are about to follow"

Prof: "any questions?"   Student: "yeah, can you explain again what the 'true location shift' means?"   Prof: "... that's not important"

"this test is more difficult to run. You could say that it comes with its own issues, but don't we all?"

"you will rarely need this test, often people are just... not interested in it"

"the hypothesis was that they made the sentences shorter and used easier words because the american children were too stupid to understand. that's not what I’M saying, that's what the statistics say"

"neither of these are normally distributed, so we can't apply a t-test. You could remove the outliers and try again, but this is a tricky decision to make, and we won't be making it today"

Student: "where do we submit the homework?"    Prof: "you don't. you don't submit the homework. its for your own joy and pleasure. no submission required. just joy"

Prof: "however, there's one thing missing from all this. does anyone know what it is?"    Student: "causation?"    Prof: "god no! that's FAR too meta. this is machine learning, not real life"

"so this, this right here... this is a bullshit example"

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7  | Part 8

Part 9  | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14

[xiaq]

Hi, I have a question re:sex and Christianity. Small background: I still go to church, and I still live with my parents even though I'm not much younger than you, because housing is very very expensive where I live (pretty common here, I would say about 2/3 of my friends live with their parents and we are decently privileged kids)

Anyway. How does one get over purity culture? To be clear, I've never been told in church not to have sex, I've never gotten the gendered lessons that you got. But I am terrified of having sex. My first real, multi-year relationship just ended and while there was hand stuff etc, there was never any p in v sex (lol I feel 12). But I still had insane anxiety about being pregnant despite being on bc. And I think its because I know my parents would be so disappointed if I had sex. And if I was pregnant I could imagine all the gossip. And honestly I think im from a pretty open church, b/c one of our previous ministers kids recently got married at 8 months pregnant and lots of church people were at the wedding and supportive and her parents were there and everything.

I dont even think I particularly like sex, i might be on the ace spectrum, but how do I remove it from all the anxiety that's tied to it so I can even give myself the chance to find out???

(Asking because it seems like you've been pretty open about purity culture/removing yourself from it)

CW for sex talk (again)

How does one get over purity culture?

Oh man. That really is the million-dollar question, huh? Obviously, I can only answer re my personal experiences, and this is something you should talk to a therapist about, but I can tell you how I’ve tackled it with my therapist at least.

Purity culture is, at its core, an ideology that is perpetuated by shame. If you’re indoctrinated into purity culture when you’re a kid, the concepts become baked into the way you construct your identity, your perception of self, and your perception of your sexuality. It’s practically intrinsic, by the time you’re an adult, to feel shame any time you’re reminded you have a body, much less a sexuality.

According to the chapels I sat through every week as a kid, a girl's body could be 3 things: an intentional stumbling block for men, an accidental stumbling block for men, or unnoticeable. Women were to strive for the third option so as to keep their (and their male friends/authority figures) purity intact. After all, if a boy, or even your male teacher, had impure thoughts about you, it was your fault for tempting them (which, holy shit. I still can’t believe that was a thing I bought into for so long. If my 45 yr old grown-ass teacher had impure thoughts because he could see my 12 yr old collarbone, that sure as hell wasn’t my fault. But I digress.) The Only time a woman’s body can be something else, is when she gives it to her husband, at which point she must suddenly flip the switch in her brain that she is now allowed to be a Sexual Being and she must perform Sexual Duties despite living in outright fear of her own body and sexuality for years (decades?) up until this point. Jesus take the wheel.

Purity culture isn’t a thing you can just decide to walk away from if you’ve grown up in it. Because its ideology is insidious and internalized. So first you need to submit to the fact that you’re going to be fucked up about sex. It sounds like you’re there. Second, you need to interrogate what you believe. If you’re leaving religion behind entirely, you’ll approach removing yourself from purity culture differently than if you still identify as a Christian. It sounds like you might be the latter, which meant, for me, separating what’s actually biblical and what’s shitty, contrived, doctrine that I was told is biblical but is actually more political than spiritual. This helps you address the shame issue.

You need to throw away I Kissed Dating Goodbye and Lady in Waiting and all those ridiculous books you read and reread in the hopes of somehow obtaining impossible marriage perfection and look into actual scripture interpreted within its historical context. I could write a book on this, but the TL;DR is that the text of the Bible was written, translated, curated, and changed multiple times over thousands of years by human beings with human biases and, often, personal and/or political agendas. It contradicts itself! Reading it as it is—a flawed historical document—rather than some sort of God-breathed perfect document—is incredibly freeing. When you do, you’ll probably realize that purity culture is bullshit on a spiritual level. Which is a good start, if that matters to you. Because any time you start to feel shame or guilt you can ask yourself: does God actually care if I wear a bikini or touch a dick I’m not married to? Probably not. Wear the bikini. Touch the dick.

The most important therapy session for me was when my therapist asked what I would do if I got to heaven and God was actually the God I’d been raised to fear. What would I do if he condemned me for being bisexual and having premarital sex and becoming educated, for arguing with men, and failing to isolate while menstruating, and wearing mixed fabrics? If Montero had come out at the point, I probably would have said I’d pole dance down to hell. Instead, I said I would spit on heaven’s gates. If a god that cruel and that pointlessly demeaning really exists—a god who would create in me condemned desire—I won't worship him. The good news is, I’m 99% sure he doesn’t exist. At the very least, he isn’t supported by scripture.

Okay. The final thing you need to do is figure out what you actually want, sexually speaking. This bit is probably the hardest. I’m still in the early stages of this myself. You say: “I dont even think I particularly like sex, i might be on the ace spectrum, but how do I remove it from all the anxiety that's tied to it so I can even give myself the chance to find out???” Bro, I wish I had an easy answer for you. For me, whenever I’m feeling anxious about Sex Things, I tell myself: 1. My God does not equate my worth to my sexual habits. 2. My partner does not equate my worth to my sexual habits. 3. I do not equate my worth to my sexual habits. It seems silly, but reminding myself of those three things is massively helpful. If, after I’ve sorted through those, I’m still anxious or uncomfortable, I stop doing the thing. I evaluate. Am I overwhelmed and I need to try again some other time? Do I just not like the thing? Sometimes it’s hard to tell. Sometimes you change your mind. Sometimes you just don’t know. That’s why having a partner who you trust and who’s willing to patiently explore your interests (and respect your disinterests) is so important. Half the battle, for me, was having a partner who told me they’d be ok with no sex at all. Because that took the pressure off me. If the bare minimum they need is nothing, then anything more than that is a bonus! Hooray! This is maybe TMI, but let me tell you. I thought I was asexual* right up until I was able to have moderately non-anxious sex. Never in my life did I think I would initiate a sexual situation but… I do now. It’s a fun thing to do with a person I love and, holy shit. I am furious that I nearly missed out on it.

Finally, re birth control: I don’t know how you can approach that fear in a way that works for you. If you don’t want to ever have penetrative sex, that’s fine! If that’s a point of anxiety you can’t get rid of, then don't push yourself to do it. If you find out you like other sex things, do the other sex things! If you don't like doing any sex things, don't do any sex things! Also, have you considered sleeping with people who can’t get you pregnant? Always an option if it’s an option you want to consider. ;)

Okay. I hope this was even a little bit helpful. Sorry if it’s a little convoluted, I typed it up in bursts during my work breaks.

*This is not at all to say that asexuality can be “fixed." Rather, it’s to say that things like purity culture can drastically confuse your sexuality in general. If you’re asexual, then this process is still important to discover what you like/dislike. Then you can be explicit about those necesities and find a partner who’s a good fit (if you want a partner at all, that is).

[bakugosbratx]

Hiiii! CONGRATS on your milestone! You really deserve them and many more! I saw that request were open and would like to request some noncon/yandere Bakugou where if the reader doesn't cum in said time he will let her go and if she does he claims every single hole? Feel free to sprinkle in bdsm I like it all and I'm a masochist ^^

Warning: 18+ content. Sexual intercourse, masturbation, sex toy(s), cursing, yandere tendencies, abuse, noncon, dubcon, degrading, punishment, overstimulation, breeding kink, etc.

Check out my other works here

A/N: Hello! Thank you so much. I love this idea. Yandere is one of my favorite things to write along with bdsm. I’ve actually been thinking of doing a personal one shot like this so I’m happy you requested it. Hopefully it meets what you’re looking for.

Words: 2,605

You thought you were so slick, masturbating while the pro-hero was at work. You thought you were so clever buying that vibrator online. It was hidden inside a stuffed animal so when Katsuki glanced over your purchase before hitting submit, he never noticed. He thought it was just another stupid stuffed animal you wanted for your collection.

You kept the toy hidden inside the bear, but once Katsuki left, you unzipped the back to pull out the pleasure device. The amount of orgasms and cum you produced was more than you have in months. This was going to be your little secret and Katsuki will never even think to look. Except, you seem to not have noticed Katsuki had cameras. They are hidden, of course, but they are there.

They saw everything and so did Katsuki.

You’re used to Katsuki coming home in a mood when he had a long day at work and honestly, Katsuki could expect the same out of you. So, when Katsuki arrived home with his usual attitude, you didn’t notice.

“Y/N,” he called as he closed the front door behind him. His work boots were already off and resting by the couch along with his gauntlets, mask, gloves, and any other armor. You jogged over to him, a smile on your face as you approached the man.

“Welcome home, Katsuki!” You greet with enthusiasm, wrapping your arms around his neck and a soft kiss on the cheek. This was no different than your normal act you put on. Katsuki trained you to act this way, after all.

Katsuki’s hands rested on your plump ass, his red eyes clearly not showing the same amount of enthusiasm you held. When your irises met his, your smile dropped into a concern frown.

“Been good while I was away?” He asked as usual.

You nodded, “yes, sir.”

“Is that a lie?” Katsuki interrogated, raising an eyebrow. You started to sweat and tremble within his hold. Sadly, he noticed.

“No, not at all.” You managed to utter out. A little too quick for your own good.

Katsuki chuckled scornfully. “Really? Because,” his fingers reached into the front of your pants to swipe your delicate pussy. You started to become flustered as he pulled out his slick covered fingers, clicking his tongue at his confirmed suspicion. “You’re one wet little girl.”

“I-I,” you stammered, tears welling in your scared eyes. You mentally cursed yourself for not keeping track of the time. You were enjoying time with your new toy when you heard the door unlock and Katsuki call your name. Your whole core is a slick covered mess and Katsuki knows about it.

“Bedroom,” he delivers a hard slap to your ass with one hand while pointing towards the hall with the other, “Now.”

Not pushing your luck, you did as your told. Katsuki was closely behind you, his dark crimson eyes glaring at the back of your skull. You should have known better than to think you were going to get away with this. Now, you have to suffer through whatever punishment Katsuki feelings like handing out tonight.

Walking inside the bedroom, Katsuki examined the room. The only thing out of place was the soaked gray towel laying on the wooden bed frame. You did not have time to hide it. You could lie about the towel, the vibrator? Not so much.

“I-I’m sorry, K-Katsuki.” You whined as he grabbed the towel. He shook his head.

“I’m sure you are. Strip.” He ordered. You did exactly that.

You stood still, the air hitting your soaked cunt. Goosebumps arises on your arms and you shiver slightly. Katsuki eyes your slick covered pussy and thighs.

“Bend over the bed, slut.” Katsuki demands, pointing towards the bed. Tears are streaming down your face as you do as your told. He spreads your legs apart more so your cunt can weep some more. Using the soaked towel, he cleans you up. You let out pathetic apologies and whimpers, but this did not make Katsuki any less angry.

“I’m sorry, Katsuki.” You repeat with a sniffle, hoping he will show you some mercy when he punishes you. You both know he is a merciless man, though. Your apologies are useless.

Giving your ass another hard slap like earlier, you let out a yelp. “Stand up.” Katsuki orders. As expected, you listen. Katsuki retrieves a dry towel from the bathroom and lay it down on the bed. Your heart is racing and you are clearly nervous.

“Lay down on your back.”

You lay down on your back. Katsuki grabbed your wrist and tied rope around it then proceed to attach it to the bedpost. He did the same action with each limb so you are spread eagle on the bed. So many questions raced through your mind. You didn’t dare ask what his cruel mind wanted to do to your exposed body, but his devious smirk and invading gaze did not help you draw good conclusions.

You were too busy in your thoughts that you didn’t notice Katsuki retrieving your teal vibrator. Your eyes grew wide as he shake it in front of your face. All the dots are connecting and now you understand why he is so mad.

“Look familiar?” He chuckled. “Thought you would really get away with it, didn’t you? I’ve done told you I see everything.”

“Katsuki—“

“Shut the fuck up, Y/N. I don’t want to hear your bullshit excuses and pathetic apologies for the rest of the night. You’ve done lied to me more than once. I need to teach your lying ass a lesson.” Katsuki scolds.

Turning the sex toy on the highest setting possible, he lays the vibrator on your sensitive clit. You automatically moan and sob. Katsuki snickers.

“Such a selfish whore. Always want your pussy pleased, but never want to pleasure me in return.” He growls them walks closer to you and grabs your chin so you are forced to meet his gaze. “That changes today. I’ll make you a deal. You don’t cum within,” he gazed at his Rolex then back at you,” ten minutes, I’ll let your ass go. If you cum, though, you are stuck with me for good and I’m going to stuff every hole you got. Deal?”

Not giving you much of an option, you nod. You so desperately want to escape Katsuki. You miss normalcy. You miss your friends and family. You miss the freedoms of being a normal human being. This is your ticket out, you better take it.

Gently slapping your cheek, he smirks. “I’ll come back to check on you in a bit. Have fun, cum loving slut. I’ll have fun stuffing you later.”

You watched as Katsuki left the room. Your moans filled the empty space and your pulsating cunt is already begging for dear release. You struggle against the restraints, panting and whining. You wanted out. Katsuki did not tie the rope gently at all. Even if you were strong, these restraints would be hard to escape from.

What was once enjoyable is now being used as punishment. Regrets seep in. You have already overstimulated your poor pussy today. You are exhausted and all you wanted to do is rest, but the loud vibrations are preventing you from doing so. You attempted to withhold your cum. You wanted to so badly. Not only for a chance of freedom, but you will be dammed if Katsuki fills your holes. You did not want that man’s filthy hands anywhere near you let alone his erected cock.

You did your best to wiggle the device off of your clit, but it was no use as an orgasm arise. Gasp escaped your lips as your pussy cried. Your cum covered your cunt, vibratory, and even squirted onto the bed. You began to feel flustered, but your punishment was not over with. You have several more minutes left and Katsuki does not plan on coming in a minute too early. You will be covered in your own arousal by the time he arrives.

Just like he wanted.

You reached your climax again and again, leaving the towel, sex toy, cunt, and thighs soaked. You’re sweating, panting, and out of moans to release. Another orgasm overcame you when Katsuki walked in. A smug grin was plastered on his face as he leaned against the doorframe, watching you meet your next high. This made it even worse.

“I came just in time. I get to see you be a filthy slut in person.” Katsuki teased. You wanted to glare at him, but your eyes are rolling back and any insult came out as incoherent babbles. Your pussy released more cum much to your dismay and Katsuki’s enjoyment. Embarrassment washed over you as Katsuki came over to pick on you some more.

“You done squirtin’ yet?” He snickered. “You soaked the whole damn bed.”

“Katsuki, please,” you whine and struggle against the restraints, “make it stop.”

“Aw, is someone going to cum again, isn’t she?” Katsuki coo’s, faux sympathy clear in his tone. You shake your head no, but by your lewd faces, he can tell your close again. He glances at your whimpering pussy then back at you. “Yeah, you are. Go ‘head and cum for me. I know you got plenty in there.”

You don’t even have the energy to protest anymore. Any fight you have left has vanished as you release, closing your eyes in the process. Katsuki was sure to watch every moment of it, too.

Katsuki removed the vibrator, turning it off. You let out a sigh of relief, but that relief is short lived once you remember the deal. Katsuki is not going to wait until you are ready to be quote-on-quote ‘stuffed.’ No, he is a man with needs that you agreed to meet if you failed your part. You were doomed from the start, in all honesty. There was no way you were going to succeed and you both knew that.

You were untied, sitting up on the towel. You did not enjoy sitting in your pool of cum, but as usual, you have no say in the matter. Your eyes never left Katsuki as he put back the items. Before putting the sex toy away, he looked at you with the slick covered device in his hand.

“We’re keeping this for future use.” Katsuki smirked. You sigh, regretting even buying the damn thing to begin with. It was only a matter of time until Katsuki got his greedy calloused fingers onto it.

Katsuki returned over to you, looking down at you with disgust. That almost felt worse than the punishment itself. Yes, you hated Katsuki, but somehow, you still craved his approval. You did not like making him unhappy. Your body and bones depended on you making him happy.

“Like sitting in your own filth?” He arched an eyebrow, crossing his arms.

“No.” You answer, bowing your head down in shame.

“Why? Don’t like being reminded how much of a disgusting whore you are?” Katsuki tsk. He has always been the degrading type, but when he is angry and trying to prove a point, he is much worse.

“No.” You replied, whimpering slightly. You refused to look at him, but you know he is enjoying this. He enjoys putting you in your place. He enjoys winning.

Katsuki began taking off the rest of his work clothes. His erected cock is already throbbing from watching you bust everywhere. He may not have been in the room physically, but he sure did enjoy watching you downstairs on the flat screen. He didn’t even need to turn on the sound because your moans traveled down to the living room.

“Get in the position I like you in.” Katsuki instructed. Tears stream down your face. You didn’t want to do it. You’re tired and just the thought of Katsuki putting his length deep within you disturbed you emotionally.

“You deaf or somethin’?” Katsuki growls as he grabs you by your hair and gets close to your face. “I said get in the fuckin’ position.”

You scurry to do as your told, Katsuki letting go of your hair so you can do so. Face down, ass up is Katsuki’s favorite position to fuck you in. He loves seeing all of your exposed holes to please and toy with. Call him greedy, but he knows you secretly enjoy it too. At least, that is what he tells himself as he makes you moan out his name.

“Yeah, that’s it.” Katsuki praises as you get into position. He spreads you open more so he can get a nice view of all of you. Your cunt is damp and ready for Katsuki’s length, but he is deciding to be nice. “Which hole you want me to fuck first?”

Neither, you thought.

“Any.” You huffed out, wanting this over with already. Your annoyed tone bought you a hard slap to your ass. You wince in pain.

“I’m sorry, Katsuki.” You cry, instinctively. “My pussy, please.”

Katsuki rubs your ass cheek in approval. His hands hold onto your hips, positioning you the perfect angle to take all of his dick. The tip rest at your weeping entrance then proceeds to slide inside. You cry out in pleasure and pain. No matter how wet you are, no matter how many times Katsuki has sex with you, your cunt will never be able to handle all of his girth. Your tight walls will always hug his length to his enjoyment. Katsuki just can’t get enough.

Katsuki continued his constant rough rhythm, delivering a few slaps to your ass and thighs in the process. He loves seeing your ass bounce as he thrust deep into you. The way you sing him beautiful melodies of moans, groans, and whines just encourages his behavior.

“Katsuki—“ You cry, incoherently, as he hits your ass again.

“What’s the matter? Too much dick for ya?” Katsuki mocks. “Bet that stupid little toy of yours can’t make you feel this good. Look at you, can’t even make coherent sentences. Such a,” he grunts as his dick twitches deep inside you, “dumb fuckin’ slut.”

You grip the bedsheets as Katsuki pushes down on your tailbone to move a slightly different angle. Your breast still bounced though they were pressed against the soaked cotton beneath you. You tried to muffle your moans, but Katsuki will not allow that to happen. He wants to hear you stroke his ego. He wants to be reassured he is making you feel this amazing.

Katsuki continued pumping into your sore cunt until he met his goal. You have no choice but to milk every single drop he has to offer. Once you are nice and full of his cum, he taps your putter thigh.

“Sit up.”

As commanded, you sit up. Your back is pressed against Katsuki’s chest. His hand hugs your neck, squeezing it nicely. You cough slightly, looking up at him.

“Think I better take care of this mouth of yours next. Seems to get you in the most trouble.”

“Please no.” You whisper, more tears falling. Katsuki releases your throat, now holding your chin, and brushes them away with his thumb.

“Don’t want me to stuff your dirty little mouth, hm?”

“I’ll be good, Katsuki.” You swallow the lump that formed in your throat, doing your best to sound small. He liked when you sound weak. “I promise.”

“Y’know better than to make promises you can’t keep. You’ve broken several of them already. Be a good girl for me and get on your knees.”

“Yes, Katsuki.”

©bakugosbratx

All Rights Reserved

[hardlyinteresting]

Risks Worth Taking 2/2

This is the second half, part 2/2 of the story, thank you to everyone who has read it! Professor!Zemo x Student reader Part 1 here The reader takes Zemo’s philosophy class focusing on Machiavelli. Posted in 2 parts because it exceeded the textbox limit. Apx 3k words.

Warnings: student-teacher relationship (the reader is of age, no real focus on power imbalance), implied age gap, consumption of alcohol, implication that the reader is sleeping with Zemo for better grades (she's not) and of course let me know if you want me to add anything else!!

Week five, he is not shocked to find she’s once again the first one in class. “Good evening,” he greets warmly, unwrapping his scarf from around his neck as he makes his way to his desk. She smiles back, “I left my paper on your desk there, I figured I’d get the pile started”. He laughs setting down his coat and bag, “Something tells me there will be few submissions for this class”.

He’s right. Less than half the class bothers to show up. Most of her peers seem to be getting a head start on winter break, at least the class is quiet she thinks content listening to Helmut summarize the most recently assigned chapters, providing historical context where needed.

“Enjoy your break Helmut,” she says softly as he shuts the lecture hall door.

“You as well. Do you have plans?” She shakes her head, “No, just reading”. He smiles, “Then I am sure it will be a good break indeed”.

The cafe is warm and cosy. She settles comfortably into her favourite booth with her favourite book and a second cup of tea.

The bell at the front door dings as a man enters in a long black coat and leather gloves. Fancy she thinks to herself as he approaches the counter to order. It's usually other students dressed in sweatpants and hoodies, the man’s put together dress piques her interest. He orders and then she watches over the top of her book as he drops a $10 bill into the barista’s tip jar. Oh, well dressed and exceedingly well mannered. She can't help but watch him as he waits. Removing his gloves he tucks them into his pockets and unbuttons his coat, she swears she can smell his cologne from where she sits; it's incredible!

“Cherry blossom tea for Helmut?” The barista calls sliding the cup across the counter.

Helmut? It isn't. Is it? He turns after saying a polite thank you, and she can feel her heart hammering as he turns and she sees his face. It is. She's not sure why she's shocked, she did tell him about this place after all. Do I say something? She wonders, weighing the pros and cons, but her thoughts are halted when she hears his voice,

“Hello,” he smiles softly, “I didn't expect you to be here--I know you pointed this place out, but I wasn't--”

He's worried he's intruding. Oh, how the tables have turned.

“No, no. It's okay! I don't own the place-- did you want to sit? You don't have to--”

He chuckles as her nerves get the best of her.

Silently he sets down his cup shrugging out of his coat, putting it over the back of the chair before sitting down.

“What are you reading?” He smiles, trying to peak at the cover.

Again, after their initial stiffness, the conversation flows smoothly, just like it had in his office. After several warm drinks, and a couple croissants ordered between the two of them it’s grown dark outside. Neither had noticed the cafe empty out slowly over the hours, the barista cleaning up for the night until she clears her throat from behind the counter. They both turn to look at her, finally noticing how quiet the shop is.

“Sorry, we’re closing now,” the barista smiles sweetly. “Not a problem. I apologise, we lost track of time. We’ll get out of your way,” Helmut apologizes. The pair collect their things sliding back into their coats and gloves. Helmut waits patiently for her to be ready to go his hand resting gently at the small of her back as she slips out of the booth and past him.

Helmut stops and puts another bill in the girl’s tip jar.

“Sorry for keeping you,” he apologises again.

Outside the winter wind is cold against their faces.

“Are you hungry?” Helmut asks.

“I could eat,” She responds. “Ever been there?” Helmut asks pointing to the pub across the street. “I don’t know if it’s your speed. It’s not super nice or anything, but their food is decent,” she says honestly. He laughs, “‘Decent’ is better than what I can make at home by myself”.

She bites her lip thinking about it, does he want to spend more time with me?

“Okay,” she smiles as they make their way across the street.

Settled at a table, they wait for their server, she asks, “Was that a fifty dollar bill I saw you put in that tip jar?”

He shrugs, “Yes”.

He says that as if it’s normal, she thinks.

“I know you’re not from here, but you do know that’s a lot of money right?” “Yes,” he shrugs again, “But she made excellent tea all afternoon, she let us stay as late as she could and she was polite. And I have been here long enough to know that servers of any kind don’t get paid fairly. I can afford it, she deserves it”.

She feels the smile grow across her face, she considers gushing that he’s such a good person, but instead what comes out is, “I’m really starting to consider becoming a professor”.

He laughs, “I told you, it’s family money, not my facility pay”. God, that laugh, sets off butterflies in her stomach, the warm, genuine sound of his laughter.

He continues, “Before Sokovia fell, my family were royalty. I was a Baron there”. “I knew your name sounded familiar,” she sighs, “I remember hearing about Sokovia on the news. I remember your name, you were building orphanages and relief centres”.

He nods sadly, “Many of us thought we could salvage what we had left after everything. We couldn’t”.

“I’m so sorry,” she says, without thinking she reaches across the table to place a comforting hand on his arm. His hand comes to cover hers, so much larger than her own.

There’s a silence between them for one of the first moment since he sat down with her earlier at the cafe. But it’s not uncomfortable, it’s the opposite -- a silence of understanding, both parties knowing there’s nothing they can say to make things better-- they can only ruminate.

The peace is broken by a waiter coming to take their orders. “Do you drink Helmut?” She asks with a mischievous smile. “I have been known to indulge,” he confesses, his eyebrows furrowed. “Two shots of ?” she turns to look at Helmut expectantly. “Vodka,” he replies. “Two shots of vodka, and an order of cheese fries to share please,” she orders, “thank you”.

The waiter returns not before long, placing the drinks and food on the table.

She holds her shot glass up waiting for him to do the same. “Prost,” he says raising his glass towards her. “Cheers,” she responds clinking her glass into his before they both tip them back.

And that’s how their night begins.

It’s nearing midnight when they settle their bill, Helmut insisting he pay-- though she put up a good fight. “Can I walk you home?” He asks looking at her under the light of the street lamps. She nods, her face feeling warm both from his attention and the alcohol coursing through her bloodstream. Her apartment is only three blocks away, but time seems to slow down as they walk arm in arm through the freshly fallen snow. At her door they stop, she looks up at him, him down at her. Without a thought, lips meet. It’s not rough or particularly sexy, but she feels her knees go weak when his hand comes to cup her cheek, his other splayed across the small of her back pulling her closer. This kiss deepens and she clutches the lapel of his wool coat before they both pull away. “Sorry,” he mumbles. “Don’t be,” she sighs.

Then the thought hits her, “How are you getting home?” “Oh-- I was going to get a cab and go back to the cafe to pick up my car in the morning,” he explains. “Nonsense-- you can stay here,” she offers unlocking her door and stepping inside, he doesn’t follow. “Not in my bed,” she laughs flicking on the light, “I’ll set you up on the couch”. He steps inside.

In the morning he wakes to the sun shining through the window. It takes him a minute to orient himself remembering he crashed on her couch. He sits up taking a moment to look around the apartment, it’s cute. Books and textbooks and notebooks strewn about the place. It’s homey and inviting and every bit what he’d expect her space to look like. Carefully he grabs one of the open notebooks tearing out a page he writes a quick note:

Good morning, I find that I feel very sorry for having to leave before you wake. Alas, I have much to get done, and I do not wish to trespass in your home longer than needed. I am grateful for your hospitality, and even more, your company. If my memory serves correctly I must also apologise for making that advance towards you last night. It was ungentlemanly, and you are unquestionably deserving of much better. I hope you can forgive me, and that you might allow me to make it up to you. -Helmut

Week six.

“He should appear to be compassionate, faithful to his word, guileless, and devout.” Is written across the board. When she settles into her seat. She’s not early this week, rather just on time. Helmut notes the heavy rise and fall of her chest as she tries to catch her breath, he holds back a smile at the thought of her sprinting to his class. When the class is settled, he proceeds to hand back all of the submitted essays, now marked. He smiles as he sets hers on her desk, “Bravo,” he says quietly enough that just she hears it as he shuffles along to the next row of students. She anxiously flips to the last page, red pen scrawl reads 100%. Her jaw drops. There’s no way. She thinks back to the rumours she heard on campus at the beginning of the year, about how difficult a marker he is. Bullshit. Her blood boils, rage sizzling beneath her skin. She avoids his eyes for the rest of class staring down at her notebook as she notices the indents in the blank page-- indents left from where he had written her a note that morning. Her anger freezes replaced by the cold sinking feeling in her chest. All his kind words, all those moments shared-- did he really think she was just spending time with him for a better grade? What kind of handout does he expect to get from her? She scolds herself now for the little crush she’d developed-- how stupid could she be? The prince must appear to be virtuous in order to hide his actions, She remembers from her reading, a dagger to her chest as she thinks bitterly that she’s not shocked that the professor is practising what he preaches.

The class ends and he moves to collect his paperwork, sorting it back into his bag. She stays. “I’m glad you stayed behind,” he starts. “I’m sure you are,” she says sharply. Confused he puts his things down turning to face her. “Have I done something to upset you?” He asks seriously his head tilted to the side as he racks his brain for anything he may have done to make her so cross. Perhaps his note was not sufficient in conveying his apology? “Do you think I’m stupid? Or that I’m naive?” she asks arms crossed, “I’m not sleeping with you for a good grade,” she states firmly, sliding her essay back across her desk, “feel free to adjust my grade accordingly”. Is that what she thinks? His mouth goes dry, his mind and heart racing with all the different ways he wants to apologise, to tell her that she has it wrong. He approaches her, finally making eye contact with her, “Your grade will stay as it is. I mark all of my student’s work without looking at the cover pages. I have always strived to remain impartial. Your essay was marked no differently,” He explains calmly, “I would be wrong to say that I don’t hold any affections for you-- it is quite the opposite. I enjoy the time we have spent together, and I would like to continue to remain in your company; I hope to eventually find myself in your affections-- but none of this has any bearing on your grade. I am sorry that I have acted in a way where this was not clear”. Her throat clenches, oh. “I’m sorry--Oh my god--I’m so stupid!” her hand flies to cover her mouth. “You have nothing to apologise for-- I should be the one apologising,” he insists. She shakes her head standing to stand in front of him, “We’ve both been obtuse”. “I’d like to make it up to you. I’d like to take you out for dinner-- a proper meal. If you’ll allow me”. She nods her hand coming to rest on his cheek, thumb running gently across his cheekbone, “I would like that,” she says quietly, her eyes glazing at his lips, “But only after the semester is done and I’ve graduated”. “If that is what you want,” he nods understanding. She can feel him leaning in, her eyes flickering up to his caramel eyes and back down to his lips, his hand rests on her hip, but he waits for her to close the gap between them.

Last day of the school year.

She waits by the door to the lecture hall as he speaks to his class. She listens to the back and forth of conversing ideas from the students, her heart beating faster every time Helmut speaks. It takes a while for everyone to leave when the class is over, but he does his best not to make her wait too long, gathering his things as quickly as possible, he makes his way over to her.

“Maybe I should’ve taken this course, the conversation was much more lively!” She laughs. “Your intelligent thoughts would have been wasted here, my dear” He smiles shutting the door behind him, “your class needed a brilliant mind in it”.

The summer goes by quickly. Fine dining, nights in. reading during rainstorms. Nights of soft romance, followed by nights of passion. Pasts shared. Futures envisioned. In his bed the night before the new school year she rolls over to lay almost on top of him, laughing when he lets out an oof. “Old man she teases,” earning a playful pinch on the thigh from him.

She glances at his nightstand, a copy of The Prince laying there.

“And what are your personal feelings about Machiavelli anyway? You never speak about your own thoughts”

“You're so clever,” he laughs, “but you're right”.

He sighs pulling her closer. he tries to focus on his hand running up and down her arm, how soft her sweater is under his fingertips. He takes a deep breath before speaking, “every time I read it, my opinions change,” he confesses, “there was a time when I was young and stupid; thought I was invincible that I agreed with a lot of his ideals. Then I grew older, fell in love--I thought him stupid and lonely. I experienced an incredible loss--”

She squeezes his side as she hears his voice grow tense with tears, he swallows and continues, “and then I thought I understood him. I learned how to grieve and I thought him intolerable. In the end I learn more about myself than I do him”.

She smiles, “and have you read it lately?”

He nods kissing her softly, “I have”.

“And?”

“I learned to trust my instincts. To take the risks that are worth taking”

“You're kind of a sap,” she laughs, her face getting warm she buries it in his chest. Part 1 here

[wildlyminiaturesandwich]

Why I left the EA Game Changer Program

Judging by the state of my inbox, a lot of you want to know what happened that lead to me leaving the Game Changer program and I was gonna write up a MASSIVE text post about it — I still might one day — but honestly... I’m not sure if I could be bothered right now. A lot of things happened, big things and small things, public things and things that took place in the Discord and DMs; all of it absolute bullshit but none of it is anything I want to continue to deal with, which is why I left.

This post still turned out to be quite long so I’m gonna put it under a cut, but if you’re expecting ALL the juicy details, this isn’t it. This is a couple of the major issues but it’s just the tip of the iceberg.

So let me just say, most of the issues can be boiled down to how the program was managed. The program has been slowly declining since SimGuruDrake left and the Community Manager role has kept changing. Say what you want about Drake and her attitude but she was damn good at her job and none of the crap that certain “high value” Game Changers have gotten away with in the past few years would have ever happened on her watch. But I can honestly say the newest Community Manager has been the worst so far.

(I mean, it’s been 5 days since I told him I was leaving the program and he hasn’t replied. I doubt he ever will. I am not surprised, I’m not even disappointed; I’m just annoyed that I was right because this isn’t the first time he’s ignored DMs and I wasn’t expecting any different this time)

Need some examples? We were told in no uncertain terms by the CM that only “High Value” creators (meaning a select group of Youtubers) would ever be given opportunities such as paid sponsorships, event invites and the like because they alone were worth the investment. He also told us that the Game Changer program has “nothing to do with the community”, which is a stark contrast to what most of us were told by the previous CMs and the reason some of us joined the program. And every single time myself and a few other Simblr Game Changers bought up concerns in the Discord about certain things (eg. racism within the program, favouritism, “high value” Game Changers bullying smaller ones, Game Changers acting inappropriately or taking advantage of their titles/power, the insane amount of stress put on us to produce content within such a tight timeframe for early access) we were either told “this isn’t the place to discuss this”, told to “calm down” when we were speaking politely, told to shut up and warned that if we kept going we’d be punished, or just flat out ignored and spoken over.

There were even several occasions where a certain group of GCs (some of whom were mods in the Discord) would provoke one particular Simblr because they knew she would only put up with so much before she would get angry and they hoped she would eventually say something to get herself kicked out. But every single time this happened, the Simblr was the one who was warned that if she kept being “aggressive” she’d be removed from the program. It’s gotten so bad that there are people who are actually scared to speak at all in the Discord because they’re afraid they’ll be removed from the program for having a difference of opinion or not agreeing with the “High Value” people. Honestly, if people knew even half of what was said within that Discord, if they knew how some of their faves behaved behind “closed doors”, they’d be even more disappoint than I am.

So, in conclusion, if you’re a Simblr and you are thinking about joining the program next time applications are open (if they ever are)... Don’t. They don’t care about us, they don’t view us as equals within the community even though Simblrs provide 90% of the CC and mods they use in their games; they never have and they never will. Simblrs have been part of the program for over 3 years and they still don’t even have a way for us to submit our early access content to EA (we have to DM it to the CM who no doubt just ignores it) or accurately measure our ROI, even though several of us have given the CM literal novels worth of information on how it could be done. The only way Simblr GCs have ever been acknowledged was if they started a Youtube channel or collaborated with one of the “high value” creators. Ever seen a single Simblr at an EA event, get a paid sponsorship or even simply get mentioned in a Sims official Twitter tweet? No. Why? They. Don’t. Care. About. Us. 

Honestly, if I knew back then what I know now, I never would have applied for the program in the first place. I could have saved myself years of stress, anxiety, sleepless nights, and tears.

But, if I keep going this is gonna turn into even more of a rant than it already has and that’s not what I want. I just want to wake up every morning not dreading what nonsense is happening in that Discord and how much trouble I’m going to get into for speaking up for those who are too scared. I want to enjoy my favourite game again. I want to enjoy making CC again. I want to feel like a part of THIS community again. Simblr is where I started and where I grew, and though it sometimes can be tough to be here, it’s my home.

Simblrs are just as valuable and important as any other part of the Sims community and no one can take that away from us, not even EA/Maxis.

Just a few things to add...

I have nothing against most of the “high value” people/Youtubers. They are just taking advantage of the opportunities given to them, as anyone in their position would. The issue I have is that it’s always them and no one else, but I don’t blame them for that because that’s not their fault.

I’m not going to name names. Sorry, I know some of you want to avoid supporting the people I mentioned being bullies but I left the program to get away from the bullshit and if I name names those people and their fans will come after me and I got enough of that in the GC Discord.

I will still be buying new packs. I love The Sims 4, no matter how much the management sucks, and I’m going to continue to play it because it helps me deal. Even before I became a Game Changer my FAQs page has always said “EA could literally announce a pack called something stupid like ‘Plant  Life’ with just a single ugly little pot plant in it and I would pay  whatever they ask”. If you choose not to support the game anymore that’s great and that’s your right to do so, but please don’t give out to me for wanting to continue to do one of the only things that makes me happy.

I will still be doing reviews of new packs. Just because I’m no longer part of the program doesn’t mean I won’t be giving my opinions of new packs, nor does it mean my reviews are going to change. My reviews have always been my 100% honest opinion and that won’t change. The only difference now will be I don’t get early access so my reviews won’t be up until after the pack releases, but on the plus side, I also won’t have to deprive myself of sleep and run myself into the ground to review an entire pack in less than 24 hours like I had to do many times with early access.

Saying “I told you so” is not helpful at all. I was aware from the start that Game Changers were free marketing, I’m not an idiot. I was just naive enough to think that they treated everyone the same within the program.

I stayed for as long as I did because I was stupid enough to think I could help change things. I thought adding my voice to the ones already trying to change things (who are still there trying now) that together we might be able to light a fire under the CM’s butt and get some changes happening to make the whole program more friendly towards creators from ALL platforms but it’s literally like banging your head against a brick wall. Nothing is ever going to change because they don’t want it to, but hats off to the few people still in there trying; they have way more patience and sanity than I do.

Not all the Gurus are bad. In fact most of them are really great, super friendly and treat everyone equally within the whole community; you only have to go to one of their live streams (on their personal Twitch channels, not the Sims official one) to see that. It’s mostly just the CM who I was referring to in this post.

It’s now been TWO MONTHS and SimGuruFrost never got back to me. I am no longer able to log into the Game Changer Network (the site we use to opt in to opportunities for upcoming games and DLC packs) so my credentials have officially been revoked but the CM hasn’t said a word to me. Even though I know for a fact when other people have asked to be removed from the program he practically begged them to “just take a break and then come back when you’re ready”. Just goes to show, standing up for people and fighting for what’s right will get you nowhere within the program; all they want are yes men.

[kelchase]

RNM Create 2021 | Day 2:  AU

I have been thinking about posting a rec list since June but, for some reason, I felt overwhelmed every time I wanted to sit down to put one together.  A friend of mine finally convinced me to submit one for @roswellnewmexicocreate so here I am.  Doing the thing. (Hopefully correctly - I’ve never created a rec list or participated in an event 😂 - please be kind) I don’t know that I will participate any other days but I do love to escape into a good AU so I think this was the right day to contribute.  If you haven’t checked out any of these stories I hope you will or revisit them if you haven’t read them in awhile.  Happy reading! :)

Send Me Home by @litwitlady (69,108 - completed)

Michael Guerin is the star first baseman for the Atlanta Braves. Alex Manes is a Nashville superstar. They meet at an after-game concert one cool September night, instantly connecting and unable to stay apart from one another. As Michael battles loneliness and a desire to embrace his various identities, he and Alex grow closer despite the many obstacles standing in their way.

Why I love it:  

1.  Aliens...but make it baseball. 😂  With that being said, the baseball is really secondary in this story. 

2. Honestly, Michael’s character growth throughout this story - *chef’s kiss*.  At the beginning of the story he thinks he is so alone with his secret & that he can’t trust anyone with it.  He eventually trusts his secret to Alex and Danny (aka one of the most wonderful OCs to ever exist) and they accept him for who he is.  Between Alex, and Danny and his family, he finds the home and family that he always longed for, realizing he is not as alone as he originally thought.  I hope we will eventually get to see this kind of love and support on the actual show.

3. You never doubt Michael and Alex’s love/attraction for each other.  Michael was all in right away to the point of making me giggle in delight as I followed along. 

4. The smut is 🔥 & I’ll leave it at that. 😉

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Hold Onto This Lullaby by southern_stars

After moving in with Alex, Michael starts to adopt some of his habits.

Why I love it:  I often think while watching RNM “just let Malex be happy!”  This story delivers the every day domestic fluff that I dream of.

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Heartbeat series by @adiwriting (133,057 - WIP)

During the lost decade, Alex gets Michael pregnant and Michael doesn't see or hear from him again for the next four and a half years. When Alex comes back to town, he discovers he has a daughter with Michael and they all have to figure out how to be a family.

Why I love it:

1.  I’ll be very upfront with you.  Mpreg is not my thing - no disrespect to anyone who enjoys it; it’s just not my usual cup of tea.  I truly almost did not read this story because of it and, let me tell you, my life would be lacking if I had not decided to give it a chance.  I will also mention that you see very little of Michael’s pregnancy in this series thus far.  I would say that there are less than a handful of flashback stories where you get a glimpse.

2. NOVA MAE.  @adiwriting has dreamed up the most wonderful little mixture of Michael and Alex.  She is smart and strong and sassy and I just love that Michael and his support system cultivated these characteristics in this vibrant little 4 year old.  I honestly just want to be Nova Mae when I grow up.

3. The fatherhood.  It melts me.  I have this secret notion of Isobel being a surrogate for Michael & Alex on the show.  I know that it is wishful thinking & highly doubt it will ever come to fruition so I’m happy to live in the world of Nova Mae and pretend. I also enjoy seeing the growth of Alex & Michael coming back together in their relationship while navigating fatherhood & parenting.

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See Something You Like? by @prouvaireafterdark (14067 - completed)

Monday afternoons at Pandora's Box are the best. They’re notoriously slow so Michael gets to work his shift alone, which gives him ample time to grade the engineering assignments he procrastinated on all weekend while he sits behind the counter.

It’s a Monday afternoon, in fact, about a year and a half later, when Michael hears the bell above the door chime softly to announce the arrival of a customer who would change his life forever.

***

The Malex Sex Shop AU™️

Why I love it:  Sometimes you just need some filthy smut in your life and this story delivers. 🔥 Author does a great job with her tags if you want to see if it’s something that would float your boat. 😉

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*Special mention: 

My Crown is in My Heart series by @litwitlady

This was an arranged marriage fic between Michael & Alex that was a work in progress. I was unable to track it down on AO3 so I assume the author has since removed it but I still think about this story so often that I had to mention it.  I hope she doesn’t mind.

Why I loved it:

1. All I want from RNM is some alien soulmate bullshit & I think this story was headed in that direction.

2. I rarely care about political side stories in my fic but I was honestly intrigued by the world that was being built around the truce between humans and the alien race.  

3.  If I’m recalling correctly, Michael was an alien king (albeit somewhat reluctantly) & I enjoy anytime that Michael gets to be the focal point over Max.

@litwitlady should you ever decide to revisit this universe, you will have at least one very loyal reader. Also, if I totally missed the story on AO3, please feel free to reach out & I will edit my post.

[everlarkficexchange]

Under the Rain

Written by: @nightlock-1989

Prompt 9: Canon-Divergent/ In Panem D12 “I waited for you” he said but she didn’t reply. He pressed for an answer he knew he deserved, “under the rain, Katniss. I waited for you, under the rain… why would you do that?” / “I can’t do this anymore, Peeta” / “Bullshit, you can but you just don’t want. I thought you were brave!” he yelled at her looking for any reaction that will give some hope. His tears threatening to run down his face. / She didn’t move, and she didn’t correct her, so he ran away and slammed the door behind him. / “I love you” Katniss said to an empty room. [submitted by @alwayseverlark]

@alwayseverlark, I hope you enjoy what I’ve come up with for your prompt. This is part one that sets the foundation for what will happen in your prompt. This will be three parts.

Under the Rain- Part One- Rated T

16 years old

Not Prim, not Prim, not Prim, not Prim.

“Ela Fairsmith” Effie Trinket announces.

I breathe a sigh of relief and do everything I can to fight a smile. While Prim and I are spared, Ela, a girl two years older than me from the Seam was just reaped and is walking to her death.

Madge subtly reaches for my hand and gives it a light squeeze. She looks to me with a tight-lipped smile.

“Now for the male tribute,” the escort says with excitement.

Not Gale, not Gale, not Gale, not Gale.

“Pe-“ she begins.

I tighten the hold on Madge’s hand enough to the point she lets out a small hiss.

“-ter Edmund.”

I finally release the breath I was holding. It’s another boy from the Seam, slightly younger than me.

“Sorry,” I mumble. She removes her hand and sets it on my shoulder.

“You should go find your sister,” she recommends.

I move to walk away when Madge grabs me by the wrist.

“Are you going tonight?” she asks.

“To what?” I answer.

“The celebration by the meadow.”

“Why would I do that?”

“Gale’s last year; right?”

“I don’t think—”

“Just think about it,” she shrugs. “I’ll be there at 8:00.”

Her behavior puzzles me.  Every year, the teenagers of District 12, gather in the meadow and have a bonfire, both Seam and Merchant, to celebrate the fact that they weren’t reaped. This is particularly popular among those who have aged out of the Reaping or have a loved one who aged out.

I’ve never been but I’ve heard the older kids whisper about it.  People save any extra money to obtain some white liquor from Ripper, causing Haymitch Abernathy, her best customer to lose his mind one year. It’s not uncommon for girls to come to my mother for an herb concoction, finding themselves pregnant after the night at the Slag Heap.

For both classes, it’s their last true night of freedom, their final chance to be irresponsible. Tomorrow will be their final day of rest and later in the night, the only thing they will be doing is going to bed early to begin their life in the mines or in town.

It is Gale’s final reaping and while one would think he could breathe easier, it doesn’t. While Gale has aged out, Rory will be eligible next year, and eventually Vick and Posy. I’m lucky with just Prim. I don’t see why Gale would want to go to something so stupid.

I open my mouth to disagree while backing up, when I suddenly hit something solid and nearly trip. Hands grab my hips to hold me steady, but I shy away at the touch and immediately turn around to see who touched me. I look into the wide blue eyes of Peeta Mellark. I imagine mine are filled with fury.

“Uh, sorry. I, uh-um, I thought,” he rambles.

“I have to find Prim,” I spit out before storming off.

I see her smiling with her group of friends when I approach. She throws her arms around me and my heart warms.

“Ready to go home, Little Duck?” She nods and we go to meet my mother.

Later while enjoying an indulgent meal (for us anyway) of rabbit stew with the Hawthorne family, we are interrupted by a pounding on the door.

Hazelle goes to answer, and a frantic voice is asking for Violet, my mother. I hear a muted conversation and my mom informs us that a mother is expecting twins. Prim, a little healer in the making, offers to go. 8:00 comes around when Posy begins yawning, signaling time for bed.

Gale offers to walk me home, but I decline, and we make plans to meet early tomorrow morning.

I don’t live too far from the Hawthorne’s but it’s a nice night and I decide to take a walk. I become aware of someone around. I look and see Cray, the head Peacekeeper.

“Katniss Everdeen,” he says with a smug grin.

“Officer Cray,” I greet ducking my head down.

“Looks like the odds were in your favor.” Cray begins stepping towards me.

I continue walking but look up. “I suppose so.”

“What are you doing out here alone?” he asks curiously.

“I’m not…er, I won’t be for long.”

He slowly continues walking my way and I decide to turn right instead of continuing forward.

“Heading to the meadow?”

“Yes,” I spit out.

He’s still following me, and the meadow is now in sight. I quicken my pace.

“Big plans, Miss Everdeen?”

“Yep.” I look in the crowd, but I don’t see Madge. I do see Peeta Mellark, and he’s spotted me. I’ve caught him staring at me a few times over the years, but he always looks away. Tonight, he doesn’t. Does he recognize the tense body language? Can he detect the fear in my eyes from this far away?

I don’t hesitate before I raise my hand and wave quickly. He breaks away from his group and starts walking towards me. I notice the moment that he sees Cray lurking in the shadows.

“Hi Peeta,” I say in what I hope is my most cheery voice. I don’t want Cray to register the terror in my voice.

“There you are, Katniss,” he says with a huge smile, as if nothing is wrong. He sets a hand on my shoulder and I slightly flinch. His blue eyes pierce mine, silently telling me to go with it. “Madge almost had us send out a search party. You told us you would be here at 8:00,” the sound of his voice increasing slightly.

“My mom needed me to drop off some supplies. Mrs. Oatbrook’s having twins.”

“Well, let’s go find Madge so she calms down.” He guides me forward with his hand on my back.

“Breathe in,” he leans in closer and whispers. When we reach the other teens, I finally allow myself to exhale.

“Are you okay?” he asks, bending down to look me over.

“Fine,” I say shortly.

“Are you sure?” he bends his head down to look in my eyes.

I’m momentarily stunned. Have his eyes always been that shade of blue. I feel as if I could get lost forever in them before I shake the thoughts away. Why am I thinking about Peeta Mellark? I need to get a handle on this situation. “Damn it, Peeta. I’m fine. You don’t need to rescue me all the time,” I say storming off after I spot Madge engaged in a conversation with Delly Cartwright. She’s just nodding her head.

“Hi, Katniss. I didn’t know you were coming. I didn’t think this was your kind of thing,” Delly drones on and on while I try to calm down. I begin looking around for a Seam kid I recognize when I spot one of Gale’s friends, Thom. Okay, good. I’ll leave when he leaves. My house is along his route.

“Thirsty?” Madge asks.

I’m not even thinking straight or registering the odd, burning taste until it’s already down my throat, having been desperate to ease my dry throat. I must have drunk half her bottle but all I can do now is cough.

Why did that taste like peaches?

“Because it’s mixed with peach juice,” Madge laughs.

“Wait, what?” Did I say that out loud?

Delly begins laughing. “Have you ever drunk before, Katniss?”

“No,” I shake my head.

“May I?” Delly asks. Madge hands her the glass and she takes a drink and ponders. “What is that?”

“Something called vodka. I swiped it from my mom’s dresser.”

“Rye,” Delly calls. Rye Mellark is one year from aging out. The resemblance he has to his brothers is remarkable. When he approaches, I look him in the eye. His eyes are blue but not the same as Peeta’s. Ugh, I’m thinking of Peeta again.

“Delly, Madge,” he says with a brief hug. “And Miss Everdeen, this is a rare gift,” he says with a curious tone. His smile is also nice, but he doesn’t have Peeta’s dimple.

“Can I have your glass?” Delly asks Rye. Delly takes another sip of the peach concoction and a sip of whatever Rye has.

“Well, I don’t see how this could be stronger than Rippers.”

“What stuff?” he asks.

Madge hands him the cup and he takes a small sip.

“Yeah, it’s not,” he answers quickly.

“I think you’ll be okay, Katniss,” Delly assures me. What does she mean I’ll be okay? I didn’t ingest poison or anything.

I’m getting very warm. I begin to remove my sweater and drape it over my arm. They’re talking but I’m not even caring. Everything feels…. lighter? But at the same time, my body feels heavier.

“I feel better already,” I say with a grin.

“Not as strong but Everdeen’s little as it is. She’ll be feeling it in the morning.”

“But the night is so young,” I say with a puzzled look. “It’s warm and the fire’s hot.”

“Yeah,” he chuckles. “I’ll see you pretty babes later.”

Delly and Madge giggle like a bunch of schoolgirls…. wait, so am I.

“He’s so cute,” Delly whispers.

“Eh, if he’s your type,” Madge says.

“I just love his eyes.”

“I thought Prim had the most beautiful blue eyes I’ve ever seen,” I offer.

“Katniss, we’re talking about boys,” Delly adds.

“The floor is moving,” I say and grab for Delly’s hand.

“You mean the ground?” Madge asks.

“Sure,” I let go and begin heading towards the large rock that I sometimes sit on after I finish hunting.

“Nope, nope, nope,” Madge grabs my elbow. “This is my fault. You’re sticking by me.”

I scoff. “Why is everyone trying to take care of me? I can take care of myself. First Mellark, now you.” I wrangle free from her grasp.

“Wait, Rye was trying to take care of you?” Delly asks.

“No, Mellark,” I emphasize. “MY boy with the bread. If we have to-to-to- aren’t you warm?” Madge shakes her head with a smirk.

Her and Delly glance to the side and wave someone over.

“What were you saying about Mellark?” Delly laughs putting a finger to her lip.

“Yeah, the boy with the bread?” Madge encourages.

“My,” I gesture with a hand to my chest. “MY boy with the bread.” The girls are laughing loudly. “And if we are going to talk about boys, then Peeta’s eyes are the most prettiest blue. And his brother doesn’t even have a dimple.”

“I think that might be the nicest compliment I’ve ever been given,” a familiar voice says.

“Ugh,” I turn around and glare at Madge. “No more strawberries for you. Screw this, I can walk my own ass home. I don’t need you,” I point to Peeta, “or you,” I point to Madge, “or you,” I point across the fire at Thom. They all dodge out of the way as if there are tracker jackers around. Maybe I’m just flailing instead of pointing.

“What did you give her?” Peeta asks.

“We already EEE-STAB-LISHED this,” I emphasize taking a step forward, tripping in the process. A pair of strong hands catch me.

“Maybe you should sit down,” Peeta suggests.

“I was trying to go to my rock by the tree, but Madge wouldn’t let me.”

“I wasn’t going to let her go alone,” Madge explains to Peeta.

“Smart idea.” Peeta looks around and leans into Madge and whispers, “Cray was eyeing her.”

“I’m not sleeping with him,” I add.

“I know you’re not, Katniss,” Madge says with a frown.

“He can’t have me,” I proclaim.

“We know, Katniss. We just want to make sure you’re safe,” Peeta says.

“You and your savior complex,” I groan before marching towards my rock and plopping down.

After about a minute, I hear a loud gait approaching. “May I sit down?” Peeta asks.

“What if I say no?”

“Then I’ll walk over there,” he points to a tree not too far from my rock. “And keep an eye on you there.”

“I don’t need a babysitter. I’ve done just fine on my own,” I scold.

“I know you have…. Everyone knows that you have.”

“Fine,” I huff, crossing my arms. I relent and move my sweater so that he may sit next to me. I tilt myself towards him, one leg tucked under my knee. “Wouldn’t you rather enjoy the party?”

“And miss out on the chance to speak to the elusive and mysterious Katniss Everdeen?” he grins. “Never.”

“I’m not mysterious,” I say.

“Yeah, you are. No one knows much about you.”

“So?”

“So…. If we are going to be friends, that means we tell each other the deep stuff.”

“Deep stuff?”

“Like what your favorite color is.”

“You’ve crossed a line now, Mellark,” I reply staring at him causing him to furrow his brow before I burst out laughing. He joins me. It’s a nice sound.

“Mine’s orange,” he says.

“Like the fruit?” I cringe.

“Softer, more muted…. Like a sunset.”

“The sunset over the lake is beautiful,” I say wistfully before covering my mouth and looking around.

“No one heard,” he assures me. “Well, except me…. Do you see many of those sunsets?”

“Only once since my dad died,” I mumble. “Green, like the woods.”

“That’s very appropriate for the strongest-willed girl in District 12.”

I scoff, “There you go again.”

“Go again with what?” he smiles.

“The compliments,” I say before the silence begins. I chance another glance and look in his eyes. We’re further away from the fire so it’s not as pronounced but I still can’t help getting lost in them. “Your eyes, they are like…. I don’t know. You can’t describe it.”

“They’re just blue,” he chuckles.

“No, they’re not. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“How much did you drink?” he teases while I give him a light shove.

“I don’t know.”

“Moonlight,” Peeta says softly.

I look up at the crescent moon puzzled. “What about it?”

“Your eyes… the only way I could describe it is it’s like moonlight,” Peeta answers before taking a drink and cringing. “How the hell does Haymitch drink this all the time?”

“Let me have some,” I reach for the cup and Peeta holds it out of my reach. I lean forward, invading his space and reach for the cup. I put one hand on his thigh which causes him to still his movements. He lowers the glass and looks back at me. I flex my hand and remove it.

“One small sip,” he instructs.

“What makes you so sure I’ll listen to you?”

“Nothing, but I hope you trust me enough to heed my warning.”

“I trust you…. I think,” I whisper taking the glass from his hand and sipping before I spit it out.

Peeta laughs and takes another sip. I stand up, wobbling slightly, Peeta gently grasping my arm as he stands up.

“I’ve got you,” he says quietly.

The buzz is starting to fade. Maybe getting drunk was exactly what I needed because I would never be brave enough to say this sober.

“You always have,” I whisper. “Thank you for the bread.”

“Wait, from when we were kids,” he asks. I nod.

“Katniss, that was nothing. And I should have gone out- “

“Your mother beat you for it,” I interrupt.

“Katniss, it was fine. You were- “

“Peeta- “I try to stop him from saying more.

“No Katniss…” His voice fades as he continues to ramble about who knows what.

“Peeta,” I say but he just keeps going. I do the only thing I can think of to do as I stand on my tiptoes and kiss him on the lips. It does indeed shut him up.  When I pull back his eyes are wide open and he’s staring at me as if I’ve grown two heads. Of course, he would be horrified that a Seam girl just kissed him.

“I’m, uh- “I freeze.

“Well, shit,” he says and then licks his lips before smirking.

“I—I have to go find Madge,” I mumble before storming off. I find Delly and Rye and I’m horrified. I can’t face anyone who looks like Peeta right now.  I look into the crowd and I don’t see her face, but I do see her outfit…. and the back of Gale’s head. They are walking towards the Slag Heap. My jaw drops. I hear Peeta approaching.

“You okay?” he asks.

“My best friends are headed towards the slag heap? How could they?”

“I’m so sorry, Katniss. I, I know you’re with Gale—”

“What?” I interrupt.

“You and Gale, you favor each other.”

“No,” I say and shake my head.

“Oh…. Well, I thought—”

“You thought I was dating Gale even though I kissed you?”

“Well, drinking makes people do stupid things,” he offers.

“No, shit,” I say with a roll of my eyes. I begin to scan the crowd, looking for Thom.

“So, you’re okay?” he asks.

“Yeah. I just don’t know why they didn’t tell me. I don’t know how it even happened. He’s always whining about her and her townie ass.” I don’t see Thom anywhere. He’s probably at the slag heap too. I groan.

“What’s wrong?” Peeta asks.

“I’m looking for Thom so I can walk home with him.”

“I can walk you home,” Peeta offers.

“Then I’ll just owe you more,” I point out exasperated.

“Can we stop with the whole owing thing, Katniss? We’re friends, we don’t worry about owing friends.”

“Friends? I’m not so good at friends.”

“Yeah, but I know your favorite color. That means we are on our way to best friends.”

This causes me to snort. “Don’t you want to stay at the party?”

“Party or walking a pretty girl home?” he says with a tilt to his head. “Definitely going with the pretty girl.”

“I’m not pretty,” I mutter.

“You have no idea the effect you can have, do you?”

There is a loose tendril of hair that has come out of my braid. Peeta reaches towards it before stopping. He’s asking me with is eyes for permission. He takes whatever it is that my face is saying as a yes before tucking it behind my ear.

“Let’s go,” he whispers, offering me his arm which I surprisingly find myself taking. We walk at a leisurely pace back to the Seam. We walk along in silence before I stop.

“Peeta?” I ask gazing at his face.

“Yes?”

I open my mouth not sure what to say so I just go with what comes to mind. “What’s your favorite thing to do on a Sunday?” Sundays are usually when the town businesses shut down early in the afternoon.

He grins, “You’re going for the really deep stuff now. You know there is no turning back now. We are definitely friends after this.” He waits for an answer and I nod.

We continue walking while he tells me about how he likes to draw on any spare sheet of paper he can get his hands on. He tells me about how he sketches the things around him. A loaf of bread, the apple tree, the pigs, the town square. His favorite though is a dandelion. We walk in silence, the weight of his words in the balance.

We reach my doorstep and stare at each other. The silence is becoming painful, and I have to know.

“Why a dandelion?” I ask, already knowing the answer.

“You know why, Katniss.”

I nod. “I thought I’d lost all hope. That bread sustained me and my family until I realized I already knew a way to take care of my family…. That dandelion was hope…. And you lead me to it.” He doesn’t say anything. “Jeez, it must be open my mouth and embarrass myself day. Never mind, I’m drunk, I don’t know what I’m saying.”

“Are you really? Or has it worn off and you’re now lying about it?”

He searches my eyes, willing me to tell the truth. “I’m a little drunk, but I know exactly what I’m saying.” His gaze is making me vulnerable, and I hold my breath. Peeta steps closer. He’s in my space and my senses are overwhelmed. There are butterflies and heat in my stomach.

Peeta lifts my chin and leans down, his lips barely touching mine. “Will you allow it?” he whispers.

“Yes,” I say, the word barely getting out before his lips are pressing against my mouth. I don’t know what I’m doing but Peeta does. He cradles my jaw before he gently moves his lips against mine. I grab his shoulders so that he will stay rooted to me. We kiss for a couple of minutes, our lips dancing together. He doesn’t try for more. He is the first to pull back.

“Good night, Katniss,” he whispers grabbing my hand to press a kiss to it. He turns around and walks towards town. I head inside and lean against the door. What the hell just happened?

When I wake the next morning, I have a major headache and am slightly nauseous, even more so when I think about that kiss. What the hell was I thinking?

I try to clear my head in the woods, I really do but I’m missing every single shot. This has never happened before. Damn you, Peeta Mellark. I decide to get more strawberries for Madge before heading into town. When I reach the meadow outside of the fence, I notice the dandelions and I begrudgingly pull them out.

Before I know it, I’m at the bakery and I glance in the window. I see Peeta, and no one else. This is stupid but my body is clearly not listening to my head since I’m setting the dandelions on the doorstep and knocking. At least my body works enough to run off behind the apple tree where I hope Peeta can’t see me.

He opens the door and looks around before he looks down. He bends to pick up the dandelions and a wide grin appears on his face. Shit…. I’m in trouble.

[hopelesshawks]

Physical Fatality Part 11- Pettiness

18+ Hawks x fem, pro hero!reader

Summary: You’re a rising star in All Might’s agency. Hawks is the darling of Endeavor’s. By virtue of your job descriptions, the two of you are supposed to hate each other, or at the very least be cautiously neutral. For a long time that’s exactly what the two of you did. You stayed out of each other’s way and formed little opinion of the other. One fateful night at an HPSC gala changes all that. Based on the album Hopeless Fountain Kingdom by Halsey.

If you don’t want to see Physical Fatality content blacklist #hopelesspf

This story will have multiple NSFW parts so it is 18+ ONLY minors dni

Masterlist

Ever since your removal from the task force both All Might and Endeavor have decided to be more involved in it on a managerial level. Which is really just a nice way of saying that the two are micromanaging and Hawks has never wished so hard for two people to just fucking retire already. Let Midoriya and Shoto take over and let the agencies finally enter a new fucking era without the ridiculous pettiness. “Hey bird boy,” a voice singsongs.

Speaking of petty...

“Has the fact you’re almost single-handedly ruining her career affected you and (y/n)‘s relationship yet?” Monoma asks Hawks cheerily.

He, Hawks, and Bakugo are standing on a rooftop staking out a nearby building not far from the downtown area that’s suspected as being a new base of operations for the group responsible for the attempted terrorist attack. Midoriya, Todoroki, and Tokoyami are at a different building on the other side of town. This is a perfect example of why Endeavor and All Might’s micromanaging is only making the task force’s job more difficult. The two of them had insisted on choosing the teams and somehow neither of them had considered how bad an idea it was to put your ex fiancé on the same team as your current boyfriend. Brilliant. Truly fucking brilliant. Monoma has made petty jab after petty jab since the moment they left the office and it is starting to really grind away at Hawks’ nerves.

Hawks has been trying to be the bigger person, he really has. Things are finally in a good place with you again and he really doesn’t want to fuck that up, regardless of how much of an ass Monoma is being. He should really be given an award for the immense amount of patience and restraint he’s been showing. But that particular jeer? That particular jeers rings a little too close to home. Because yes things are finally good with you, but the fact your career hinges so much on your relationship now is an undeniable dark shadow being cast upon it. Another reason, Hawks might add, that he couldn’t wait for Midoriya to take over for All Might. “Feeling tongue tied?” Monoma needles again. “Say something worthwhile and I just might fucking respond,” Hawks fires back. “Ah so he does speak! Just admit things aren’t all rosy and perfect in ArteHawks land.” “ArteHawks?” “Your perfectly perfect couple name for everyone’s favorite perfectly perfect star-crossed lovers.” “Don’t call us that.” “Call you what?” “Star-crossed lovers.” “Aww why not? Are the fates themselves not telling you your relationship is doomed?” “Our relationship isn’t doomed.” “Sure it isn’t,” Monoma scoffs and something snaps in Hawks.

It only takes a moment for him to grab Monoma and slam him down against the rooftop, pinning him there. “Watch what the fuck you say,” Hawks threatens. “Hey ease up. I’m not enjoying his bullshit any more than you are but just ignore him,” Bakugo warns. “Yea Hawks, ease up,” Monoma smirks up at him. “Listen here you little-“ “Hawks! I said ease up. If you fuck up and get a bad headline it reflects on (y/n) too remember?” Bakugo cuts Hawks off before he can finish his sentence. Hawks looks over at Bakugo and then back down at a smirking Monoma. God he wants to punch that stupid, smug look off his face. But Bakugo has a point. So Hawks takes a calming breath that does very little to actually calm him down before forcing himself to release Monoma and go back to observing the building across the street; however, the peace is only momentary. No sooner has Hawks returned to his post does Monoma stand back up and ask “So when all this inevitably blows up in your face, how long do you think it’ll take for (y/n) to come running back to me to fix her reputation again? A week? A day?”

There’s only a split second between Hawks registering what Monoma has said and his reaction. He whirls around, fist connecting with Monoma’s face, causing the other man to stagger backwards with the force of it. He rears his fist back to land another one but Bakugo catches his arm and yanks him back. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” Bakugo demands. Hawks wrestles himself free of Bakugo’s grip and redirects his gaze to the younger man. He should calm down, objectively he knows he should, but Monoma’s words are floating through his head and Bakugo had prevented him from fully venting his ire so it continues to burn through his veins. “What’s wrong with me? What the fuck is wrong with you? You just gonna let him talk about (y/n) like that?” Hawks spits back. “He’s obviously trying to get a rise out of you idiot. So stop giving him the satisfaction,” Bakugo scoffs. “Oh so he can just say whatever the fuck he wants and you won’t react huh? Won’t defend your supposed best friend,” Hawks replies and he knows it’s unfair but he’s pissed and so much stress and tension has been building since the moment he told Endeavor about the two of you’s relationship that he needs an exit for it. It was supposed to be Monoma but now Bakugo has stepped into the crossfire. “What the fuck are you implying bird brain?” Bakugo asks, his voice low and lethal as he steps closer to Hawks in warning. “I’m not implying anything. I’m just saying you’re a fucking coward,” Hawks replies, wings subconsciously puffing up to make him appear larger. “Don’t you fucking dare call me that. Motherfucker don’t play with me,” Bakugo warns. “I’ll say it again. You’re a fucking coward.”

Hawks should’ve listened.

The punch to his face is not unexpected and he almost immediately follows up with one of his own. But one punch isn’t enough and the fight starts escalating. One minute they’re trading blows and the next he’s shoving Bakugo off the roof and the other man is dragging him over too. Hawks quickly engages his wings to avoid falling and by the time he lands on the street Bakugo is doing the same, having used a few well timed explosions to control his fall. The fall hadn’t cleared either of their heads though and as soon as they make eye contact Bakugo is surging forward with his palms sparking, crimson eyes rage filled. Hawks sends a few feathers his way but it doesn’t slow the other man down so he pulls out his two large feathers ready to wield them as blades.

On the other side of town Midoriya mutters under his breath as he takes notes on the movements inside the building opposite the one he, Tokoyami, and Shoto are stood on. “Some things never change,” Shoto comments as he goes to take a seat next to his friend. “What? Oh! Yes I guess so,” Midoriya admits bashfully. “How has (y/n) been doing?” Shoto asks. “Better since she and Hawks made up but still difficult. All of the events are driving her up the wall since they take time away from actual hero work,�� Midoriya explains. “I wish I could offer some encouragement but my father is just as bad as All Might. Overheard him demanding Hawks invite his plus one to the bullshit agency-only cocktail party he’s having tomorrow,” Shoto replies. “Honestly I’m surprised (y/n) hasn’t killed him and All Might yet,” Tokoyami interjects as he joins the conversation. “Trust me, she’s thought about it. Repeatedly,” Midoriya comments. “Anyway, what do you say Midoriya can we confirm it’s this building?” Shoto asks, veering the conversation back to the task at hand. Midoriya nods, “Yep, I’m certain of it. We should notify the others.” “About that.... we have a problem,” Tokoyami sighs as he shows Midoriya and Shoto a photo Monoma’s just sent him of Hawks and Bakugo locked in combat.

Hawks should stop.

He knows he should stop.

He wants to stop.

But somehow he can’t stop until he wins.

His wings are a fraction of their usual size, his ribs ache, he’s heavily bruised, and there are burn marks where Bakugo has caught him with one of his explosions a few times. Granted Bakugo isn’t looking that much better, equally bruised and bleeding in several places where Hawks has managed to cut him. This all started so pettily but neither he nor Bakugo is willing to back down. They’re both too proud. Both feel as if they’re fighting for your best interest and, as such, admitting defeat would in some way be letting you down. One massive fight that at its core is just two men’s horribly misguided attempt at defending you. The sheer irony of the fight is something both men will come to realize once the dust has settled but for now their minds are far too clouded to consider that what’s happening is exactly what Bakugo had been warning Hawks against. So instead of stopping like he knows he should, Hawks continues to grapple with Bakugo, the two of them locked into close proximity tumbling over each other until finally Hawks has Bakugo pinned beneath him, a feather pressed to the other man’s throat.

That moment it’s like all the air gets sucked out of the area. Hawks has never and will never needlessly kill someone, especially not an innocent or fellow hero. But with Bakugo pinned underneath him, both their chests heaving with exertion and Bakugo’s eyes burning with defiance and a refusal to back down or submit even with his life in Hawks’ hands, Hawks is struck by the realization that he could. He could kill Bakugo right now if he wanted to and that’s a sobering thought. “Shit,” he huffs out and the next word out of his mouth is about to be an apology when suddenly he’s being ripped backwards by an unseen force and Bakugo is being similarly yanked away. As Hawks finds himself suspended in air he finally takes in his surroundings for the first time since he and Bakugo started exchanging blows.

There’s a massive crowd of people around staring and whispering in an attempt to figure out what exactly is going on. He spots with growing dread a news van and several reporters all taking pictures of the scene, including some of the collateral damage to the street. Thank god none of the buildings themselves were damaged. Then finally he finds the source of the unseen force holding him in the air.

In the middle of everything stands you.

And man, oh man do you look pissed.

Author’s Note: Men are ✨dumb✨ but we’ll see how (y/n) reacts next chapter. This is the chapter with the least connection to the associated song which meant leaning more heavily on the overall album’s inspiration (Romeo and Juliet if y’all couldn’t tell lol) for this particular chapter and more trying to have the vibe of the chapter match the vibe of the song.

Taglist [open]: @akkaso @cathy8taffy @eeppff @iikillerkitteh @pixelwisp @pokesosa @lildockel @bread0nhead @lavender-moon13