#is anyone other than me specifically into that

[punkitt-is-here]

Hi, I'm genuinely looking for an explanation here and not looking for an argument /srs

Can you explain how calling a transfem a TERF for spreading ideology that I genuinely assumed was included in the definition of TERFism is othering ? Not to be that guy, but I'm autistic and I'm having a very hard time connecting the points you're making, and I genuinely want to learn and understand what you're saying /gen

Again, I do hope this doesn't come off as hostile, I am genuinely trying to learn and understand better, and I want to be able to fix misconceptions about what a TERF is in my own mind, and I haven't seen anyone bring this point up before /gen

You absolutely do not have to answer this, but I hope you have a fabulous rest of your day, and I do apologize for what I said, as it wasn't necessary for me to comment on the situation.

Yeah totally! Okay, I got a lot of this from Ibram X. Kendi's "How to be Antiracist"* where he talks about describing "racist" as an identity means that hardly anyone is going to ever "identify" with it, even if they are a racist. It's much more helpful to talk about actions being racist or anti-racist. Someone committing racist acts speaks far more to the vulnerability of anyone to cause harm, rather than it being something ONLY reserved for someone with the identity of "racist". For example, Clarence Thomas, a black man, has done untold amounts of harm to the black population in the US. If we subscribe to the "oh, (X) can't be racist, they are (a minority)" train of thought, it means people are less likely to understand that Clarence Thomas commits racist acts. In the same way, describing yourself as an anti-racist is not enough, as it can let people be comfortable with racist actions because they think "oh, I'm an anti-racist, I can't commit acts of racial harm." That's why it's more helpful to describe acts as racist and anti-racist rather than framing them as identities.

In a similar way, describing someone as the label of "TERF" can have a similar effect. Because it's specifically a label centered around being anti-trans, transgender people of all kinds will easily assume they cannot be transphobic, because the label of TERF is ideologically opposed to their existence. It invites ridicule rather than introspection. By saying actions can be transphobic, I think it helps a lot more because it's easier to understand that trans people can be transphobic. For example, Blaire White is right there. Despite being a trans woman, she is actively doing transphobic acts. By calling out an action as transphobic rather than describing someone as a "TERF", it helps fight back against the idea that being trans means you cannot be transphobic. For a super duper simple example, I can step on my dogs tail, but it doesn't mean I hate dogs, it means I committed an act of harm against my dog. Describing me as a dog-hater when I LOVE dogs would invite ridicule more than it would a tendency to watch my step when my dog is in the house. I hope this makes sense!

*I'm not trying to say the Black and Trans experience is exactly the same, just that like any oppressed group, there is a lot of overlap in tactics and thinking, especially for people who are Black and Trans. Reading about other groups can really give you a ton of helpful insight on how to work within your own identity!

[ocean-in-my-rebel-soul]

When I was younger, I suffered what I've long considered an identity crisis. Along with cultural identity issues, I struggled with gender stuff. Around six years old, during kindergarten, I started getting the sense that I wasn't a girl. I didn't have language or even any sort of understanding for what that could mean, and so it was this sort of confusion without any way to relieve it. I leaned heavily into hyper-femininity, but that wasn't working for multiple reasons. I remember being desperate to be considered feminine, but my body type isn't a traditionally beautiful one, nor are my features. I *could* have been pretty, in a way that some marble *could* make a beautiful statue, but I never learned the art of sculpting. I could make my face pretty, but couldn't make the rest of me so.

Being in adolescence and considered ugly is hard for anyone, but while struggling with unresolved and unnamed gender feelings? God, it was the WORST. My behaviors in trying to access womanhood and traditional femininity were toxic at best, despite me being a feminist (I was feminist to other people, but not to myself, if that makes sense?), and as a whole, going through life up to my mid 20s was probably the worst part of my life. (I mean, who doesn't feel more secure in their 30s than 20s, but this is a very Specific kind of feeling, is what I mean.)

I'd been exploring gender a bit more in my 20s. I grew up in a very queer positive household (my grandpa was as gay as a jaybird, three of my mom's aunt and uncles were lesbian and gays, some of my extended/bonus family was queer, etc.), so when I came out as firmly bi in my teens, that was great! Except I was still struggling and couldn't figure out why until I began getting introduced to trans spaces, people, and cultures.

I came out as nonbinary at 24, legally changed my name six months later, and while I still was having issues, it was much better. I'd suffered from identity crises basically since I was born, and admitting to myself that I wasn't A Woman gave me a lot of relief. I struggled with the idea of masculinity, though (yay internalized androphobia), because of trauma and the cultural issues around toxic masculinity, and it wasn't until I was in my 30s that I accepted that my identity does include (what I try to make) healthy masculinity in my gender fluidity. It took me lashing out at a trans man doctor during the grippy sock vacation I took in 2021 to get it through my skull that, you know, being masc doesn't automatically make someone a piece of shit (which I was honestly, genuinely afraid of for so long, I later realized), but Doctor Dude was really gracious and non-reactive about it, and just let me burn myself out and then told me that maybe it could be good to be curious about things in my own time, and get to examining why I was afraid. "If anything, it might help with the fear," he said, and when I began that journey of introspection with the help of LOTS of therapy, I began to see it as part of my whole being.

I'm trans masc, and consider myself to be nonbinary and gender fluid. I wouldn't say that being A Man is one of my gender identity poles, but it does feel close, like maybe 85% Man at any masc moment. I leaned hard against being A Woman for a while, but have worked through a lot of issues with my concepts of womanhood and femininity, and while I wouldn't say Woman is on the axis of my gender fluid uhhh range, femme kinda is, alongside other things.

Being trans and learning about myself has allowed me to reconcile A LOT of shit and baggage and harm that I had been carrying for as long as I could remember. Being able to live authentically has brought me so much joy, and has allowed me to cultivate richer and more varied relationships, because I'm able to know myself better and allow myself to be fully present. Being trans has been a joy, honestly, as much as it's been difficult to get there. Living in my body has been made so much easier since being able to understand and claim my identity.

I've experienced trans joy, trans love, trans happiness, trans-formation, and so much more. I continue to cultivate those things, in spite of the political and social atmosphere of my nation and state trying to fuck that all up to hell. Being trans and being able to outwardly identify as such has been amazing, and has enriched my life. It's been wonderful. (The politics, not so much, but the work needs to be done, and I do my best.)

Sometimes I feel we do a disservice to trans people by framing their journey as some esoteric battle to escape their gender assigned at birth, rather than a very profound story of self-love and self-actualization. Many people feel they can’t relate to the desire to “become another gender” and thus don’t really “get” transgenderism.. but almost everyone can relate to the thrill and fulfillment of letting yourself be true.

[etherealmelodys]

Kang Dae-Ho

NSFW ALPHABET

A - Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

Have yall seen how this man acted in the show? He’d definitely be a master at aftercare. Thanking you for allowing yourself to be at your most vulnerable with him, making sure you’re not in any pain, hot bath, whatever you wanted this man would do it for you asap. And trust when he’s done making sure you’re okay? Immediate cuddles and praise.

B - Body Part (Their favorite body part on you and themselves)

I feel like for Dae-Ho, his arms or hands would be his favorite body part. The arms he uses to cradle you in your most intimate and vulnerable moments, keeping you safe at all times. His hands are so much bigger than yours as well, always making you feel so so good. For his partner, I don’t think he’d have a specific body part he likes about you more than the others. Everything about you is perfect, so why should he have to choose one thing?

C - Cum (Anything to do with cum)

He’s definitely a big fan of cumming inside you. He sees it as a way to be more intimate and closer to you. If you’re not a fan of that, he’s always down to cum on your stomach and thighs. The way the milky substance coats your abdomen and thighs really gets him going.

D - Dirty Secret ( Self-explanatory)

He’s really into you taking the more dominant role in the bed room. It’s not that he himself doesn’t like to, but the thought of you bossing him around and using him for your pleasure really gets him hard.

E - Experience (How experienced are they?)

I think he’s relatively experienced, not as experienced as someone like Thanos, but he knows what he has to do to get you to cum as much as he’d like.

F - Favorite Position (What positions do they like the most?)

He’s definitely the type to love any position that gives him a good view of all of you, and welcomes as much eye contact as he can get. The best for these would be missionary, rocking horse, or the happy scissor.

G - Goofy (How serious are they in the moment? Do they tease you?)

Dae-Ho would try to be as serious as possible during the act. He sees it as one of the most intimate acts you can have with another person, and he wouldn’t want you to think he doesn’t take it seriously, or you serious. Now if his partner is more playful during the act? He’s all for it.

H - Hair (What’s the hair situation down there)

This might be me being bias, but I think he has quite a bit of hair down there. Now it’s not a jungle mind you, but he just doesn’t feel the need to go bald when nobody’s complained about it before. For his partner he does not care at all. You could be as bald as a Siamese or as hairy as a rainforest, he still gon eat!

I - intimacy (How romantic are they in the moment?)

I feel like regardless of his mood, he’s always going to bring that romantic energy. Whispering praises in your ear while he slowly thrusts up into you, holding you so close to him to the point you can feel each other’s heart beats.

J - Jack Off (How often do they touch themselves?)

If he’s with somebody, he definitely jacks off more than he would if he was single. Just the thought of you gets him so hard and whiny, he never feels the need to jerk off to porn or anything like that when he has you.

K - Kinks (What are their kinks?)

He definitely doesn’t have any crazy kinks, he’s pretty vanilla. Praise, overstimulation, and hair pulling, while be it lightly, are his major ones, he’s not a fan of anything that could harm you in any aspect.

L - Location (Where do they prefer to have sex?)

He’s not into anywhere public, he’s too nervous about potentially getting caught, most importantly anyone seeing you that vulnerable. The bedroom is where he’s the most comfortable at, but anywhere ranging the shower or couch is fair game too.

M - Motivation (What turns them on?)

Just seeing you in general gets him going. Whether you just got off of work, sweaty and exhausted from the days events, or if you just woke up in the morning, bed head and all groggy. He thinks you look sexy no matter what state you’re in.

N - No (What are some things they’ll never do?)

He would never do anything to intentionally hurt or degrade you. Being raised with sisters really instilled his respect for women. Degrading, choking, anything similar to that is out of the question.

O - Oral (How do they feel about oral? Do they prefer giving or receiving?)

He definitely prefers giving to receiving. While he loves the sight of you on your knees gagging on his dick, what he loves even more is the sight of your arched back and fucked out face as he licks and sucks at your clit for hours. He’s definitely a service top, putting your pleasure above his own.

P - Pace (How fast/slow are they?)

He definitely prefers a slow and sensual pace compared to a faster one. He just loves the face you make, one of pure bliss feeling him slowly fill you up and pull himself back out again, the way you look at him as if he hung the stars in the sky, and the way you thank him for making you feel so good.

Q - Quickie (How do they feel about quickies?)

He’s not the biggest fan of quickies, he prefers to take his time with you and wants to make sure you feel good to the fullest potential. But if you’re desperate and beg him for it? Who is he to deny you.

R - Risk (How willing are they to experiment? Do they take any risks?)

Like I said before, he’s not a big fan of taking risks, or anything that might get you caught. He is however game to experiment in the bed room, but he’ll never initiate it himself, you’ll have to do that.

S - Stamina (How many rounds can they do? How long can they go for?)

Due to him being an ex-marine, I think his stamina would be extremely good, at least above average. Expect him to do at most 2-3 rounds before he starts to get tired. But before he does, it’s always his top priority to make you cum as many times as you can handle.

T - Toys (Do they have any toys? Are they willing to use any?)

I don’t think he has any of his own toys, but he’d always be down to experiment with the ones you have. He wouldn’t go out of his way to purchase any, especially for himself seeing that he has you already, so what’s the point?

U - Unfair (Do they tease you? How unfair are they in the bedroom?)

Just a tad bit, he loves you too much to do it excessively, but that doesn’t mean he won’t do it at all. Just when you guys are in a more playful mood does he really get into the role of teasing.

V - Volume (How loud are they?)

He’s fairly loud, he doesn’t do a lot of grunting, mainly whining and moaning. He’s always encouraging you to be as loud as you want as well, telling you the sounds you make are so pretty, telling you how it makes him wanna fuck you for even longer just to hear more of you.

W - Weird Fact (Self-explanatory)

He’d definitely want to try pegging, just once to see if he really is into it. But only with a partner he’s been with for quite a while.

X - X Ray (What’s it looking like in those pants.)

Dae-Ho is around 5’11-6’0 tall, and he’s quite beefy. He’s definitely above average, but he’s not huge. I’d say he’s around 6.5 inches, considering the average size in Korea is 5.3 inches. His tip is definitely a reddish pink color, about #EE9B9D, with a slight curve to the left. He had a few veins running along his shaft, noticeably a thicker one on the underside of it.

Y - Yearning (How high is their sex drive? How often do they have sex?)

He doesn’t have a super high drive, it’s about average, about every other day. He’d prefer doing other intimate acts with you, such as cuddling, watching a movie together, or just being around you in general in a non-sexual context

Z - Zzz (How fast do they fall asleep after sex?)

He usually falls asleep after a little bit of pillow talk, and of course making sure you’re comfortable and content with his performance in bed. He’d only be able to rest after making sure you’re fulfilled

(Thank you guys sm for waiting on this, I lwk fell asleep due to being sick half way through but I pulled through! This will be my first fic on this app so enjoy😼)

[violentdelights-violentendss]

i got ANOTHER IDEA ! !! !! what about the last request but flipped. the men just being utterly WHIPPED for reader and just being clingy and loving in their own respective ways; except maybe instead of fedya you could do poe or chuuya? fdmnsmasksdjfkshfks. i LOVE you and ur writing so MUCH thank you for feeding me

YES OFC I LOVE THESE SM!!! I'm so sorry I died and come back just now… but better late than ever, right? I’m not really proud of this but I hope you enjoy! Please request anything else, specifically you, Cherie-soup darling!!! I adore your requests!!!

BSD Men being Clingy

In this post: ✨Chuuya✨, ✨Akutagawa✨ and ✨Dazai✨

Pairing: Fem!reader x BSDMen

Synopsis: BSD Men being clingy with their girlfriends

Dazai

This man…he is the king of clinginess. He is constantly touching you. Some body part of his is perpetually in contact with you. He physically cannot get enough of you. Could it also be because he is terrified of losing you? Possibly. But he will never admit to it. Dazai hides behind his carefree attitude, so engrained in his behaviour that it takes months, if we’re being optimistic, probably years for him to admit that the constant skin contact reassures his traumatised heart. Whether he has had the courage to tell you or not, you're insightful enough to realise the true meaning hidden behind the way his hand constantly seems to call your name when you're far away. You don't mind, almost craving it as much as he does. Everyone in the agency knows that if they need you or Dazai, they just need to find one of you because the other is probably walking besides them. Dazai's hands permanently being around your waist, and yours being perpetually on his back.

You slipped inside the elevator, walking as quietly as your heels would permit, shooting nervous glances at the couch inside the break room. From the hallway you could spot Dazai's long legs slung over the edge, and his chest peacefully rising and falling as he slept. A negotiation attempt with the Port Mafia had been called due to a recent mission, and Dazai, being the resident expert, was sent with Fukuzawa to the meeting. No matter how much Dazai smiled and joked as per usual, the minute he stepped inside the office you could tell he was exhausted. He would never admit to it, but it was draining going back to the world he once belonged to, back to his nightmarish past. It was traumitizing for him, and forced Dazai to face a version of himself he had tried to get rid of. But the past is persistent and seemingly clung onto the straps of his long coat, reaching into his mind. Every single time Dazai had to deal with the Port Mafia he never sleeps through the night, either staying up with a glass of rum or lying in bed just for your sake but never closing his eyes for a second. Being his partner, you know this better than anyone; when you had looked over and spotted your boyfriend sleeping, for what seemed to be the first time in forever, you tried to leave as quietly as you could when Kunikida had asked you to go get some coffees for the rest of the agency.

You watched the doors of the elevator slide shut, a small triumphant smile dancing on your lips. Before you could yell victory, a familiar, slender hand slipped through the minuscule gap left in between the closing metal doors. The sensor activated, the doors springing back, revealing a sleepy Dazai rubbing his eyes. You sighed in defeat, your head hitting the back of the elevator as your boyfriend slinked inside. He came to stand next to you, his familiar cologne caressing your cheeks.

“Where’re you going?” Dazai asked, his words slurred with the lilt of sleep.

“Coffee. You need to go back to bed.” You replied. “Come on, go.” You placed both of your hands on his shoulder, trying to shove him towards the door. Surprisingly, your tall, lanky boyfriend didn’t even budge when you threw your whole weight against him. You huffed, your face red. Dazai gazed down at you, a glint in his eyes as he grinned.

“I’m not that easy to get rid of, Bella Donna,” he cooed, the sleepiness now gone from his features, the pain from the day grazing the surface of his eyes.

You gave up, leaning against his chest. “I don’t want to get rid of you: I want for you to sleep.” You whined, looking at him with exasperation marring your lips. “I was so quiet. I basically floated over the ground! How did you even hear me?”

Dazai didn’t respond for a second, letting his fingertips glide down your cheek, before following the curve of your neck. “Because, my love,” he leaned down towards you, your lips millimeters apart. “As the sunflowers follow the sun, I follow mine wherever she goes.” His lips pressed against yours, tasting your vanilla lip gloss, the one he adored the most. Your eyes fluttered shut, leaning into the kiss, pulling back only to press your forehead against his.

Dazai straitened his back, smirking down at you. You lifted on your tiptoes, reaching his ear. Dazai’s hand wrapped around your waist, holding you steadily against him. “No matter how much you sweet talk me, I’m forcing you to nap with me when we get back home.” You whispered, pulling back to wink at him.

Dazai sighed, raising his arms. “Can’t say a man didn’t try.”

The smile that lit your face gave Dazai enough energy to last through the day, the warmth from your love making him eventually fall asleep in your lap back home, no nightmares haunting his mind for once.

Chuuya

Chuuya is extremely clingy, but he does it in a more subtle way than Dazai. His eyes will always follow you in a room filled with people, never letting you go. Whenever you’re standing next to him, he will subtly hold you. Chuuya doesn’t let himself be too clingy: being in the Port Mafia he never wants to attract too much attention to you, and mark you as a potential target. He knows that he would be able to rescue you, but he doesn’t even want to risk it. Plus, he has a reputation to maintain as the cruel mafia boss, or at least what’s left of his reputation after Dazai spent most of his free time back in day the spreading rumours about him (Chuuya never slept in unicorn pjs, thank you very much). But Chuuya needs you to be next to him, always. When he and you are alone, in private, he will always be draped over you, in some way or another. He wants to do everything with you. You’re going grocery shopping and it’s his one day off? He’s putting his shoes on as we speak. Anything he does with you for him is special, and could never be boring, because you are everything to him. You’re the air he needs to survive, and he will make sure you know that.

“Babydoll, I’m home!” Chuuya called, closing the door behind him with a kick of his leg. He hung his hat on the wall, running a hand through his hair.

“Welcome home! I’m in the shower!” Your distant voice echoed back to him, bouncing in the house. Just the sound of your voice made Chuuya’s heart flutter.

“I’m gonna make myself some food!” Chuuya called back, taking off his vest and draping it on the back of a kitchen chair. He immediately started looking through your cupboards, craving some chocolate chip cookies with milk. He’d seen Mori’s ability, Elise, dunk a chocolate chip cookie in a glass filled with milk during a meeting today, and it hadn’t gotten out of his head. Quickly locating the ingredients, he held them all in his arms, before he leisurely made his way to the bathroom.

Chuuya waltzed in, finding you standing in the shower, shaving your leg. You looked up at him, blinking in surprise. Chuuya, unfazed, sat on the toilet, biting into the cookie. “Hey darling,” he waved, swallowing.

“What are you doing?” You asked tentatively, holding the unmoving razor against your leg.

Chuuya lazily grinned at you, taking a swig of his milk as if it were whiskey. “Spending time with the woman I love.”

“By sitting on the toilet while I’m in the shower?”

“Of course. I don’t see anything weird about this: you’re here, therefore I am here.”

You laughed out loud, the absurdity of the situation swirling joyfully in your chest. You looked at Chuuya with a gleaming smile dancing on your lips, hastily throwing down the razor and jumping out of the shower to envelop Chuuya in a hug. “Only you could be this imperfectly awesome.” You whispered in his ear. Chuuya coughed loudly, trying to hide the blush that dusted his face by burying his face in your hair.

He was about to declare his never ending love for you sensually, hoping to take advantage of your nakedness to have a little fun, when he felt the cookie in his hand be nibbled at subtly. He pulled away from the hug, watching as you grinned at him, half of his cookie dangling from your mouth. “All of this was a ploy to steal my cookies?” He yelled in mock horror.

You played along, cackling like a witch. “Of course!”

He glanced at you for a moment, finding breathtaking beauty in every square millimeter of your face. Chuuya slid his hand along your arm, gently holding your face in place. “Truthfully, my dear, you could steal all of my cookies without asking me and I’d still love you to death.” He whispered, before leaning down to press a kiss against your lips. You closed your eyes, melting into the embrace that was forever your home.

Akutagawa

Oh boy… Akutagawa being clingy is something else. It doesn’t start immediately; at the beginning of your relationship, Akutagawa is less than clingy. You are the one that initiates all type of physical contact, and your traumatized, awkward, little man responds as smoothly as a block of ice would dance on the dance floor. He moves slowly, but your encouraging smile helps him loosen up. It does take a long, long while, however, for him to initiate physical contact himself. Deep down, even if Akutagawa doesn’t want to admit it to himself, he is so, so, so clingy. He needs it, he craves it. He desires it so much it makes his skin crawl. His clinginess starts manifesting in an almost stalker-like way. He stands quietly in the corner of the room you’re also in, or he watches you from the dark hallway. You have been scared by him more than once, but you slowly start to get used to it, understanding that he needs a little push, even talking to him even if he stands in a corner. The warmth in your voices soothes him, and soon Akutagawa is confident enough to stroll up to you and hug you whenever he wishes. When he realizes he can do whatever he wishes, he almost never gets enough of it. He’s never as comfortable as you are, but he does get better. He does not like PDA, so it does take an eternity for him to even hold your hand in public, but he does starts to hug you in his office, only after he has made sure to lock the door of course. But, it’s still progress, and you can’t be happier to know your beloved boyfriend is slowly getting used to the idea that he has the right to be loved.

You were laid on the couch, watching a movie on your tv. It was your and Akutagawa’s day off, and he was currently fixing a wonky shelf in your entrance. You had offered to help him but he had gently pushed you towards the living room, before he had turned to inspect the wall. The noises from the hallway had stopped echoing in the apartment quite a few minutes ago, however, letting you question what your mafioso boyfriend was currently doing.

You glanced towards the hallway, ready to call him, when you noticed him standing in the doorway, looking at you. You flinched in surprise, and then smiled at him. You were about to call him, but you then recognized the stare of absolute, ardent, concentration that was encapsulated in his eyes: he was trying to imitate skin contact. Slowly, trying to pretend you hadn’t noticed anything you turned back to look at the movie. His creepy behavior wasn’t exactly new, letting you acquire a little bit of experience. You knew that if you had called out to him, he would have sprinted away like a startled deer. You had to wait for him to make his approach at his own pace.

And so, you did.

Over the span of thirty minutes, Akutagawa had slowly inched towards the couch, stiffly sitting on the opposite end from you. You pretended to not notice, grabbing your phone to swipe on instagram. You spent a little more than five minutes on there, quickly throwing your phone to the side when boredom had filled your mind. In that short amount of time, Akutagawa had slid along the couch to sit next to you. You froze, staying still. You could feel his knee grazing yours, your heart fluttering in anticipation.

You were expecting him to slowly reach for your hand, and then intertwine his fingers with yours, and, for a moment, you believed you were right when you felt his hand glide along yours. Your brows furrowed in confusion when he went past your hand and reached your waist. You gasped in surprise when his other hand landed on your thigh and he swiftly picked you up and placed you snuggly on his lap, wrapping his arms around you and smashing you against his chest. You blinked in surprise for a second, before melting into his hug. “Hey, Aku,” you whispered, trying not to squeal in delight: he had initiated physical contact, and in such an extreme way that he had never reached before! You could scream with joy, but you quickly tried to push down the geyser of delight pressing against your lip, choosing to nuzzle against him instead.

“Hey,” he murmured back, kissing your neck.

You two said nothing more after that, just simmering in each other’s warmth. Akutagawa’s locked limbs started to loosen over time, and your reassuring scent started to lull him to sleep. And for once, he didn’t resist it, letting Morpheus pull him in his embrace, confident he was safe, and that you were safe, lying in his arms. Nothing would hurt either of you. Before he was fully lulled into sleep, a small smile graced his lips, knowing he had never been this happy.

[thyfleshc0nsumed]

It costs something to be a TS woman vocal about transmisogyny.

For me, there's literal financial cost. When I write about it--in joking or serious manners--or share other people's writing on it, I lose followers. Even though this is a personal blog, it's probably the avenue through which the majority of people have found my leatherwork. And every time I open my mouth and say "hey here's my experience as a TS woman, here's my perspective on the way men treat women, here's how exactly I am marginalized even within this minority group," some people see that and decide they can't fuck with me (and likely my work) anymore.

And like, idk, it sucks. I have legitimately had the thought "if I shut up, I'd earn a bit more." For a lot of dolls, our careers are online because we're pushed out of traditional employment for one reason or another. I'm not the only one thinking these things.

Some of us decide to play 'the good one,' 'the one who doesn't bring down the vibe,' 'the one who proves all those other trannies are just man-hating transradfems,' to the result of their own financial benefit.

I don't think it's usually such a cynical or calculated decision, often I think people know more than they can name, but I think somewhere in them, they know that there is a cost that can be measured in dollars and cents to having a backbone. There's benefit to discarding the thought altogether.

That benefit is amplified by, well, the gender pay gap. If you make something catered to a broadly trans audience, which group among that audience is more likely to have a bit of disposable income? Yes, trans men earn less than cis people, but which gender group earns less than them?

Idk if I really have a point here besides kinda just venting, but yeah, it sucks that this is the case and idk if I've seen anyone else talk about it in such terms, in the specific context of the internet. Blah.

[hrnngsoup]

Oh maaan. Oh man this is anti-honey vegan levels of ignorant. Look yeah it's gonna be unpopular opinions, and I am NOT saying there are no abusive-towards-dogs cops out there, but no, k9 forces are not generally abusive.

Here's some facts:

K9 units serve much more jobs than just take-downs. Ever had a recently missing kid? A good police force will call on a k9 unit, which you can give them a piece of fabric or toy to sniff, and then that good doggo will track that kid down. Many, MANY children, seniors, and other people who are lost with mental disabilities have been sucessfully found this way.

Another job they do? Drug sniffing. And yes, I know there have been nasty rumours about cops just training a dog to Mark on a person's bag on command, but besides the trash cops that exist, the drug sniffing training is ACTUALLY very specific and fun for the dogs. I've seen a lot of people over at twitter say they are good at fact checking, feel free to fact check what I just said with unbiased sources.

Most K9's are not just murked when they are retired. This was another rumour. A lot of them are retire with their owners, who form deep personal bonds with them, or are adopted out, in the case of the officer not being able to take care of them... like when the officer has died. The only exceptions are when k9's unfortunately develop the common health problems that german shepherds as a breed are privy to, and their quality of life massively decreases.

K9's are not just "stored" at a precinct in crates or something. They go home with their officers most of the time with only a few job-related exceptions.

It's not actually true that every person who gets taken down by a canine are maimed. Most of the time, it's "hold/release", which still needs stitches, but not even near a maim. but I guess these very common events aren't really covered in media much because they are less sensational....

Calling k9 units on anyone who is not actively fleeing a crime and/or armed is not a thing that happens often. That's a huge waste of money, time, and what, do you think they start off arrests with a k9 unit? No! (Exceptions: when someone has felonies on their record, has been known to be aggressive in past arrests/chases, or have commited grand theft auto)

While this one is only anecdotal, I have never with my own two eyes seen a unit abuse their dog. I have seen many of them baby talk the shit out of their doggos or give them probably too many treats, and well, if you want to see that, I recommend police cam vids. One of my relatives which was a k9 unit absolutely adored her k9, Duke, and she had him for many years after they retired- and Duke was happy and healthy until he passed naturally. A lot of people don't realize that if a k9 unit abused or hurt their dogs, and the other cops saw.... they would be considered the shit under their shoe for the whole precinct.

Now let's talk about why they're necessary in a healthy police force

Ever hear of the terms meth heads, crackheads, etc? These groups of people, if they decide to do crime, are INCREDIBLY dangerous. Drugs of a certain hardcore variety LITERALLY change your brain composition. These are the kind of people that can, and will, run out naked with two steak knives and try to stab anyone around them "because they looked at me funny"... if they are even capable of reason and clear speech in a drug-induced rage. Many do not even feel pain at this stage. There are two ways to stop someone in this state. Gunfire. Or a k9 unit. The good thing about using a k9 is that they are fast, much faster than humans- and that helps reduce the amount of injuries and deaths that occur when something goes wrong.

Humans are instinctually wired to be afraid of dogs. A lot of violence from... really, anyone, is severely diminished when even the threat of a k9 unit being called happens, and when you're facing someone who's weilding a machete, that fricking means something.

Look. I can understand being incensed at anyone who does treat their dogs badly. I am too. But you have to inform yourself on what the facts are, and everything I have said is factual unless someone can prove me wrong which, okay, then i will retract what someone proved me wrong about.

Banning a very important, very life-saving part of a healthy police force is a BAD idea. Note i said healthy police force... there are a lot of UNHEALTHY, CORRUPT police forces that needs from the bottom up reform.

All banning k9 units will do is increase crime and the collateral damage from it, make us lose non-take down services they provide which is VERY important to missing persons cases... and probably increase the amount of german shepherds put down in shelters, ultimately doing much more harm than good.

All k9 dogs are abused hands down if you post any pro k9 stuff on my dash you’re unfollowed I don’t care if we’ve been mutuals for years, you can claim to be anti-cop or a leftist or whatever but if you post k9 dogs with like “a good doggo! A good boy!” fuck off, if I lose followers over this then good riddance

[tarotofhope]

You can apply the below observations to both, your vedic and western charts. I'm not generalizing anything or anyone, these are just my random personal observations, don't let it ruin your day or week(for some people).

Note: I've noticed that some people were arguing in the comment section, when I posted part 1 of these astro observations. Please don't do that. If you do not agree, just ignore the post and move on, don't come fighting and arguing in the comment section saying, "We are not like this, we are not like that." I don't understand, those are not fixed opinions, definitions or judgements neither am I pointing out fingers at someone specific, so please do not take it personally. If it is something positive, people always come and accept easily then why not the negative stuff? Astrology is vast and people are complex. So many combinations or placements explain so many things, but it may not apply to everyone. Even I do not resonate with some observations(positive and negative, both) but I do not go bursting out in the comment section. If people won't observe and find common points between placements/signs, then tell me how else would people study astrology? Those observations are not written after just observing 1 or 2 people. If any of your placements are mentioned and you do not resonate with it, then you might have some other placements which make you an exception, don't take it to heart. If you have so much problem then don't read observations, only read tarot.

☾✴ The more Aries/Scorpio/1st House placements you have in the big 6, the more aggressive, assertive, impulsive and impatient you are.

☾✴ Sun conjunct Mars in the 4th House placement will give the native a profession/passion their father won't like and support of, there will be strong resentment and disapproval from his side.

☾✴ Aquarius sun people are misunderstood personalities and they either have a huge friend circle or they like to be alone, nothing in between.

☾✴ Capricorn Sun people are so attracted to the mystical and magnetic scorpios, they love their aura and energy. Same goes with Aries and Scorpios too. Capricorn Sun people also adore kind and generous people.

☾✴ People with dominant earth placements have a stable long term profession and/or more than one property in their name. They mostly leave some legacy behind if they're popular and famous, people respect them a lot and they have many loyal fans and admirers. To mention a few: Elvis Presley, Beyoncé, Michael Jackson, Adele, Ratan Tata, Gurdas Maan, A.R. Rahman.

☾✴ Now, this is very specific, I can't sit still if I don't mention this. When Sagittarius Sun singers and composers break up with someone, they create the biggest hit number after that. That song gets to the top in the charts. For example: Taylor Swift and Miley Cyrus. I love how these natives quickly reach a glow up after a huge blow up, maybe this happens because it hits them hard when they soon realize that their life and peace of mind is much more precious and they shouldn't waste it on someone who's not worth it.

☾✴ Ketu/South Node in the 5th house/7th house, Ketu conjunct Venus/Saturn/Moon will make the native less or not at all interested in having children and/or romantic relationships. These people have their focus on other things in life such as self growth, career, ambition, passion and so on.(If these people have strong martian placements then they would want intimate relationships or marriage but no children.)

☾✴ Leo, Taurus, Capricorn and Aries Sun men have veiny hands and arms.

Love, light, peace & hope to you🌸🍁🌻🌼

Thank you so much for being here. I post PAC & Astrology Observations. Do love and support by reblogging, liking or following.

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[flowersforthemachines]

Some facts about Taash (and also the Lords of Fortune, the Qunari, Dragons and other related things) gathered from the banters

Featuring Shathaan's stories about the Crows!

I went through all companion banters on DanaDuchy's channel after playing the game to write down all facts about companions/the world that I haven't seen brought up anywhere in the game as a writing reference (and for funsies).

Note: This list may not be exhaustive. I might have missed some something or didn't write it down because I considered it common knowledge. If you have anything to add, please DM me or send an ask! (do specify what banter the information is coming from, though)

Note 2: Posts from this series (mostly) don't include information from banters specific to quests or between companions and faction members. I plan to do another playthrough to capture more of those and will add any relevant info to the character posts.

Other characters' posts: Bellara, Davrin, Harding, Lucanis, Emmrich, Neve. I'm also planning a post about just the Lighthouse some time later

About Taash

General: 

Taash gets grumpy if they stay inside for too long

Taash may polish their treasure hoard or clean the dishes (even somebody else's) to get out of their head

When Taash is feeling sad, they ask somebody else about how they are doing, so they can focus on somebody else instead of themselves

Taash doesn’t like talking about their feelings because it makes them sad (Lucanis can relate)

Taash doesn't read books before bed because they have a tendency to stay up past their bedtime to finish the exciting parts

Taash seems to care quite a lot about fibre and digestive health (they are so real for that). For example, they enjoy the smell of coffee but don’t drink it because it’s bad for their guts

Taash drinks alcohol 

Taash once requested Bellara/Lucanis to cook them a demon (the suggestion was disregarded) 

Taash liked Lucanis’s deep-fried peppers 

Taash liked Bellara’s stir-fry 

(If Rook is in romance with Taash) A spirit of devotion appears next to Taash after they enter a relationship

Taash doesn’t want to look for more dragonfire tablets because “they are just more orders”, and they already have enough  

Taash doesn’t kill in cold blood and needs to get angry in order to kill someone

Taash has good taste in gemstones, knowing which colours match which (based on the banters where they recommend gemstones for Emmrich’s lich helmet). They say it’s a Lord of Fortune thing, they have to know how to make gems look good 

Taash isn’t afraid of the Fade, because the spirits there mind their own business and don’t try to possess anyone (or anything) 

Taash thinks that even if the Nevarrans almost brought their dragons to extinction, they will still come back eventually

Taash is extremely excited to hear that Morrigan can (potentially) turn into a dragon and wants to ask her about it next time they meet 

Taash doesn’t mind finding no loot when hunting dragons because as long as you survived an encounter with a dragon, you have a new story to tell 

Taash doesn't think of dragons as monsters since they are a natural part of the world and have been around longer than anyone else

On fire-breathing: 

Taash started breathing fire when they were a toddler

Taash needs to eat greens after breathing fire, or they get headaches 

According to healers, fire breathing hurts Taash’s lungs

Taash accidentally set their first female partner’s hair on fire during their first sex

Taash once tried to cook with their dragon breath and accidentally melted a pot and set the kitchen on fire 

On Taash’s sense of smell:  

Taash got their heightened sense of smell after they got sick and couldn't breathe through the nose for a couple of months. After they recovered they could suddenly smell everything

Tassh can smell when someone is ovulating. They can also smell who had been in the room before them, and who is hungover 

Taash could also tell Neve got together with Rook or Lucanis from the smell even before anybody told them

To Taash, Minrathous smells rainy and ‘like rich people hurting poor people’

Early life and the relationship with Shathann: 

Taash learnt to swim before they learnt to walk

Shathann sometimes wouldn't let Taash play/go swimming until they finished their studies (like being able to tell the difference between some pottery shards)

Shathann gifted Taash axes during one of the gift-giving holidays when they were younger. They were simple kindling choppers, but Shathann helped decorate them to make them look like Qunari weapons. During a conversation with Bellara, Taash realises that may be the reason they are still using axes to this day

Axes are also good at lodging between dragon scales and allows them to climb up

Taash grew up poor, though they didn’t realise it because Shathann always made sure they had enough food, even at her expense (like pretending she didn’t want to eat because “Rivaini food is too rich for her”)

Taash spent the money they made from their first job as Lord of Fortune on buying Shathaan a dress. Shathann didn’t appreciate it, instead urging Taash to buy themselves boots or some other useful things 

Shathann hated apples because their skin would get stuck in her teeth (“Evataash, that fruit is stupid!”)

If Taash chooses to pursue Rivaini culture and wear Shathann’s horn as jewellery, they have a blacksmith do runes in the old Qunari language along the edges and get a Seer to bless it

Shathann stopped telling stories about the Crows after Taash once climbed on the roof to play as a Crow

The things Shathann taught Taash about the Crows:

Antivan Crows make themselves invisible to dragons by imitating the dragon's shadow

Antivan Crows coat the beaks of actual crows with poison so that the crows can kill people by pecking

Antivan Crows can slow down their breathing until they become invisible

Antivan Crows come through houses at night and kill children who aren’t in bed

Antivan Crows can do a special move that stops their enemy's heart

Antivan Crows can strangle a Qunari with their own dar-saam (but only if it’s tied incorrectly)

Relationships with companions: 

Bellara gives Taash advice on cooking dinner for their mother

Davrin teaches Taash to use buckets filled with water and sand for lifting

Taash has never flown a kite before and asks Harding to teach them

Harding's mother sends Taash a letter with homemade candies after Shathann’s death, calling it “a hug from afar” (Taash appreciated the gesture and liked the candy) 

(If Rook is in romance with Taash) Taash asks Lucanis about what Rook likes to eat, and Lucanis offers to teach them how to make coffee/tea/chiocolata calda 

Taash isn’t scared of Spite, and even convinces (or more like intimidates) him not to talk about how other people smell without their permission

Lucanis agrees to teach Taash how to kill targets with flair (with varying degrees of success when it comes to cool one-liners) and then plans to ask Teia to make a Crow cape just for them (Taash is very excited about it, as they love crow capes)

Taash insists Neve should get some trophy from Aelia (a ring, or an amulet with her name) to show everyone she beat her, and doesn’t understand why Neve isn’t interested in something like that 

Taash offers their blood to Neve for blood magic purposes (Neve doesn’t take up the offer)

Taash thinks Neve’s ‘dresses’ are pretty

Taash thinks nobody can go toe-to-toe in magic with Neve

Taash offers to hook Neve up with their jeweller to get her a discount (in case she wants a new leg) because “Neve deserves nice things”

Lords of Fortune:

Lords of Fortune have a drunk game where they throw a goblet made from fool’s gold into the water for others to find. Whoever finds it gets free drinks for the rest of the night. The game has only one rule: no punching in the junk

There is also another drunk game where drunk Lords jump off a giant cliff. The only rule is not to hit the water face-first

Even if those are “drunk games”, you can participate in them sober, as long as you are willing to be as stupid as the drunk people

The Lords of Fortune pick new jobs by Isabela throwing daggers at a map or racing nugs (the winner picks the job - could be its owner, or the nug itself)

The lords used to blindfold Mateo (the faction merchant) and spin him around in circles until he tripped on something like a map. They stopped doing that because a Seer told them to quit (the whole thing gave Mateo headaches) 

After Shathann is gone, Taash is in charge of appraising Qunari artifacts for the Lords until they find a better expert

The Lords of Fortune work with a Dalish clan keeper Shivanas (Taash calls them ‘Shiv’) who appraises artefacts for them (tells them what’s okay to sell and not to sell etc.) 

After losing his hand, a Lord named Bernst got a lock-pick hand prosthetic decorated with gems

About Dragons:

Different breeds of dragons can mate and produce offspring. That’s how ice- and lightning-breathing dragons came about

The muscles of dragon wings’ are vulnerable behind. Another weakness is the underbelly

Fighting Dragons is all about making them come to you, either by having them see you as a threat (so they come down to assert dominance) or prey (so they come down to eat you) 

There is a dragon called Wildervale Spitter, which can breathe fire or poison gas. The “fire breath” is actually just poison that burns when the dragon breathes. Most dragons always ignite their breath. The Spitter's special for being able to choose whether to light it up.

Dragons have an extra eyelid that they shut while breathing fire in order to protect their eyes

About Qunari etc.:

Eb-ketarra means something like ��growing memories.” When you graft someone’s horn onto yours, you also add their strength to yourself

Qunari food uses a lot of oil for frying

Qunari have a much better sense of smell than humans

Qunari can bury their dead with large jars inlaid with a flame pattern. It’s called ‘issalatar’ and is empty inside, representing that the deceased’s body is also empty now that their spirit is gone

The Rivaini armada can hold its own against the Antaam fleet, but only in good weather. They can’t match the Antaam in firepower, but they can outsail them

Isabela is apparently still a captain of the Siren’s Call 

[akumuusu]

The mischaracterization of Homura Akemi is something that needs to be studied

1)

Wrong, she isn’t a yandere, at least by textbook definition.

Reason one: Homura is incapable of killing Madoka’s friends, even if she wanted to

In the fight with Mami during the movie Rebellion, she is shown attempting to shoot her in the chest at the end of their fight. Despite this, Homura can’t bring herself to, instead opting to shoot her in the calf.

Another one is that despite how much she dislikes Sayaka she does not harm her life, she torments her, yes, but never even tries to physically harm or wound her, even after becoming a demon. The only one she has ever killed is Kyubey

Two. Homura is shown to care about others than Madoka

Time and time again, we are proven that Homura loves her teammates

While fighting Mami during Rebellion, she talks about how painful it always was to tell her the truth, to see her lose herself in depression after figuring out Kyubey’s deception

Homura is visibly shaken and upset when Kyoko sacrifices herself.

It is show that seeing the others die upsets her on multiple occasions, especially in the earlier timelines.

Its mentioned as well that Homura tried to save everyone, but eventually gave up after realizing it was impossible.

2)

For this, I specifically will be referring to the ‘desiring Madoka all to herself’

In Homura’s Labyrinth, not only Madoka was there, but so were Sayaka, Kyoko, Mami and even Nagisa. If Homura only wanted to be with Madoka and only have her to herself, then why would her ideal world have the others?

Homura doesn’t want a world where she has Madoka all to herself, Homura wants a world where all of them can be happy, fighting side by side while going to school and hanging out like normal teenagers, even if she has to be a villain to make it happen. Homura says herself that what she truly desires is a world where Madoka can be happy, and that is what she fights for.

Madoka Magica is not a story about a girl who wants someone all to herself, Madoka Magica is a story about hope, that no matter where you are there is always someone fighting for you, there is always someone who loves you. And that is said in the final credits, which is enough proof

That is not me saying that Homura is a complete saint or anything, but that is me saying that Homura is in no way as bad a person as people make her out to be, and that she is an unwell child that has been in an awful situation for anyone to be in.

[gifsbysimplysonia]

Hola otra vez! For anyone not familiar with my annoying rambly feedback, ahead there be

This is the end of the first paragraph of the story and it's just so fcking ... like it works SO well for me, it makes me wanna spike a football

it's hard to find places where he's thought of as a stranger. no familiar faces, no conversation, no fuss. just logan, a bottle of whisky and time.

logan had no reason to keep count. until he saw you.

Well, if there's any indication a man is smitten, I'd say it's when he decides to keep counting after 200 years on Earth cuz of YOU *ded*

the bar was busy, as it normally was. he didn't mind it this way, less attention on him, less chances of someone trying to pick a fight with a specific stranger. not that they'd win, but logan had grown too tired for petty fights these days.

It's super interesting to think about Logan in relation to time and age. We just went from him deciding he's got a reason to keep counting the years to him being so tired that he doesn't want to get into petty fights. And as someone who grew up with Logan on the XMen cartoon lol, I know Logan to BE petty. So whilst we can't always think of Logan in terms of age, cuz looking at his appearance can make us forget, to hear that he's so TIRED that he doesn't even wanna squabble up on occasion? Well, that's impactful. The author makes it hit home in this other way and I really like it.

And here's another example of the author getting across to us where Logan is at when we meet him in life:

you're easy on the eyes, especially to these tired old hues that have grown accustomed to staring at the same old walls.

Straight up now we have the word tired, but also old. And not in relation to himself, but what he's got eyes on. It's such a clever thing the author has done here, and I really am appreciative of it.

logan can't let himself look too much, he isn't allowed nice things, especially not pretty little things such as yourself. he's poison, tainting everything he touches, spoiling it. he's experienced enough heartbreak, enough losses for a lifetime and more.

Sad face. This is very in line with the Logan I think most of us know (and adore). Gotta take all the blame, gotta punish yourself, gotta try to protect others from you by denying yourself connections. Wanna hug him.

he wonders if you know most of the tips you receive by the end of the night are from him. you're diligent, you work hard, and you deserve more than the minimum wage you're probably getting.

Also very on brand for Logan. Sees a need, fills the need, but doesn't want credit for it. He's also seeing someone he believes is worthy (and perhaps not in a way he feels he could ever be?) of more so he tries to be the provider.

it's not even lust on his mind either, he just finds himself captivated by your presence. he wonders about your life, your interests, your dreams. . .

And again, we are seeing how smitten he is because the man who has been painted as weary and bored suddenly has questions and wonderings again. That is, in the context of Logan's long a$$ existence, quite magical. But that magic is immediately followed by

though he'd be lying if he said he'd never pictured bending you over against the bar and fucking you senseless. he is an animal, after all.

and it's like

relying on others was a weakness. besides, what would you be to him but just another person he'd lose someday? it wasn't worth it. you weren't worth it. fuck.

"Relying on others was a weakness" is just hella relatable to me, so I key in on that. And then that ire being followed by showing vulnerability by thinking of her as another person he'd lose; Logan's heart has always been huge and you just know he remembers the faces and details of each person he has had to lose and she has that status already. Logan trying to lie to himself with the "not worth it" talk only to have to curse himself cuz he KNOW he's lying is also peak Logan behavior, and once again on a personal level, hiiiiiiiiiiiiiighly relatable lol. I'm always lying to myself about my own feelings.

you were strangers, this was stupid, it was all fucking stupid. but the mind of a lonely old man is a desperate one, and what logan really craves isn't just eye candy.

"Lonely and desperate" self descriptions and Logan referring to himself as "stupid." I'm sure we all wanna shake this old man, right? LOL because when he let's himself think about the truth:

he craves a touch, that first touch that sparks electricity throughout your every nerve ending, causes goosebumps to ripple along the skins surface. he craves something, anything. he was so fucking hungry. always so fucking hungry. a rumbling hunger that starts at the pit of his stomach and gnaws through him like a rabid animal frantically trying to escape a suffocating metal cage. it's a hunger he can't satisfy, he knows he can't satisfy. but he'd been alone so long.

It's connection, and it's gnawing at him. Loneliness is a helluva thing, and I think a lot of us know this. But this author is shining in the way she is describing it for us, outside of the usual age/years gone by methods. Tired, lonely, and now ravenous. And while we are in the space of a more spiritual hunger, here, it so easily slides right back to physical as well because he's thinking about a woman and wonders

surely one bite couldn't hurt?

Me literally screaming into my pumpkin pillow cuz I'm like NO IT COULDN'T LOGAN, GO GET HERRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR cuz I know what's gonna follow is gonna be liiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit.

switching bars wasn't particularly appealing to him, but it was better than having to look at you and feel that familiar ache.

The self loathing and denial is top tier Logan. He will inconvenience and punish himself just as long as it's in line with denying himself cuz he just "doesn't deserve it." Siiiiiiiiiiiiiigh.

Logan then proceeds to go drain the snake before he beings his newest self inflicted penance, but she comes in to clean the bathrooms thinking they were empty.

Gurrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrl lol

your eyes lock on one another for just a split second before you quickly busy yourself with the mop again. but that split second was enough. it was enough to notice how you were looking at him.

HOW WAS SHE LOOKING AT YOU, LOGAN?!?! It's funny how if it was almost any other man, I'd snort and be like, sure buddy. But it's Logan so I have ZERO issue believing whatever he saw in her eyes let her know she DOES indeed know him and want ... well, something.

you lean back against the bathroom stall divider, eyes drifting across logan's figure. he was tall, big. this is the first time you're really able to look at him, to study the features of his face. this time he's not hiding behind a glass or a bottle.

How interesting to see the contrast of her view of Logan because while he's always looking at her and sworn that he never caught her looking his way, she's letting us know she has definitely looked his way enough to notice he was a man in hiding. And she actually acted respectfully to respect that and not ogle him, which bummed Logan out lol.

the hunger in his gaze is obvious, but it's dulled, like he's just barely holding back. you think he looks lonely, there's a distinct air about him that practically screams that he needs to be touched.

Oof, she's intuitive! So she SEES what he needs and seems to be quite willing to, ahem, deliver for him but WILL HE LET HER is the big question.

logan pushes himself from the sink and approaches you slowly. was he really doing this? after a month of pining and longing for you, a stranger in a bar, was he really going to give in to his desires? would you let him? the lust was clear in your eyes and he knew he was reflecting it right back tenfold.

you eye the stranger who's been watching you, tipping you. of course you've noticed, you'd have to be pretty stupid or oblivious not to. you've come to expect him at each shift, but his presence intrigued you more than the other regulars. not just because he was more handsome, considerably more handsome. no, it was those sad eyes that seemed to say a million words while his mouth remained firmly shut that had you curious. even now as he stands before you so silent you could hear a pin drop, when you look into his eyes you can feel a sea of words brewing.

I do so love the fact that she's intuitive, curious and sees beyond the big burly handsome cover. He never speaks but look at his eyes and boy, are there a thousand stories waiting to be told. And it's the SAME WAY in the present with her. Liiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiike, it's about to go off.

oh how you wanted to open him up, to peer inside behind that rough exterior, to take a peek behind the facade. you're sure you're easier to read than he is.

Again, I love that this goes beyond physical with her and that she's genuinely intrigued by him and by what probably most others don't see in Logan.

"i've seen you, you know," you mumble bravely, "looking at me." logan doesn't seem surprised, he brings a hand up to hold your chin, turning your face from side to side to get a proper look at you now that he has you up close. "yeah?" "yeah," you reply shakily, "thought i was imagining it at first. but by the second night it was obvious." he smirks, so he's not as subtle as he thinks.

No because how is he the King of Self Denial but somehow automatically is giving Dom the first time he approaches a woman he means to get to know? Not even embarrassing at being caught at his blatant perusal of her. SIR.

logan grips your wrists, not the suit. he wasn't talking about that now, he had to shut you up.

When I tell you this BROKE me. King of Self Inflicted Penance. I stg. And it's quite the conundrum to be going through an emotional gut punch when it's immediately followed up with

he leans in, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss as his strong hands keep a firm grip on your wrists. you submit, leaning back against the cubicle divider as you let him slip his tongue into your mouth.

and we know it is OFF TO THE RACES!!!

"taste so fuckin' sweet," he mumbles against your lips, kissing you between words, "you do this often? let men kiss you in the bathroom?" you mumble a 'no' under your breath, ". . . just the ones who tip good," you grin.

OH SH!T, WE HAVE HAN AND LEIA BANTER! They are my OTP so I'm always gonna call a combative in love couple that, but this dynamic is MY JAM and I love that what we seem to have here is a clearly dominant male with a bratty female. I am in Heaven lol

logan feels himself chuckling, biting your lower lip. oh, he liked you.

WE DO TOO, LOGAN!

his hand travels upwards, finding purchase around your neck. you gasp in response, moaning. he eagerly swallows your moan with his mouth, drowning out any sound that threatens to escape.

Always a trip when I am personally attacked by a fic lmaoooooooooo

he kisses you like a man starved, like he'd devour you if you let him. and you would, you think, if it felt this good.

"shhh, shhh," he whispers against your lips, "feel good? i know it feels good, but you gotta stay nice and quiet."

I want to diiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiie at the giving of instructions and reminder that, HEY WE ARE IN PUBLIC but we are absolutely NOT stopping.

"you wanted this just as much as i did, huh?" he growls into your ear, "need it, need me to fuck you."

Excellent dirty taaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaalk

he nods against the side of your cheek, his stubble scratching against your soft skin, "there we go, attagirl. . ."

And he praises? *dies again*

"yeah i am," logan smirks, he knows he's big, and he knows exactly how to use it. you just have time to gasp before you feel one of his hands connect harshly with your skin, the sound ringing out in the small bathroom of the bar.

"you've been thinkin' about this since you started your shift," logan says confidently, his words confirmed by how you drip around him, "thought about me fillin' you up, nice and full?"

I once again must mention top tier dirty talk!

and fuck does it make him harder to know that you've thought about this just as much as he has.

Once again, Logan's vulnerability is illustrated here because it's very human and natural to WANT TO BE WANTED so that it's exciting for him makes all the sense.

he knows if he lets you look at him, look up at him for too long, he'll lose it. he can't have your soft eyes on him while he fucks you, he doesn't deserve it.

*shakes him* He's still so Logan. Trying to convince himself again he is just not worthy. But I also do this to myself which is no doubt why I key on it, mention it, react to it. That just means the author is striking a chord with me and isn't that what we want? To feel resonance and know we are not alone in our experiences?

because he can't describe the shame that swirls in his stomach, that this is how he relieves himself, a quick fuck in a bar. this dirty older man who's seen so much sin, perpetuated sin with his own hands, who longed for the young pretty little thing in the bar. logan doesn't deserve nice things, this he knows.

It's a jarring feeling to be really into some hot smut and then have there be an intermission of this caliber. Cuz again, we are seeing into Logan's heart and his internal self who just screams and screams about not being worthy. And it's so painful and wretched for us as an audience cuz we KNOW it's not true and we just wish HE WOULD SEE IT.

you can't help but smirk, mouth stuck open as you moan softly, he likes it when you talk to him during, huh?

Even in her blissful state, she is noticing what he likes and trying to provide that for him and I love her for considering him and being thoughtful with him. HE doesn't think he deserves it, but we readers know that he absolutely does so it's sweetness in this midst of lust and shows us that she cares beyond whatever is happening now in this bathroom.

Y'all NEED to go read this cuz the smut is rough but because of the well established connection the author built between these two, it's very intimate despite the circumstances which don't necessarily lend themselves to anything other than a "quickie." Because of what's going on between these two and how well laid out that is for us, we know that the reason this is so rough and intimate is BECAUSE it's not meant for just here and now. But will Logan allow anything more?

standing on trembling legs, you lean up, giving him a surprisingly soft kiss. your hands take over his, helping him back into his jeans, zipping them up, clasping the buttons together and buckling his belt. all the while your lips are on his, slowly, passionately intertwining together.

And again, I love her for her thoughtfulness. She's being soft and tender with him. I'm not sure if it's a conscious effort to keep him from screwing things up (by trying to now brush her off) or if it's just naturally who she is and giving into her instinct to want to be gentle with him and keep him close. Either way, I love love love this moment.

". . . does that count as your tip for the night?" you joke with a smirk, hoping to see a flash of his smile again, hoping to alleviate some of that shame he's carrying.

Adore her for infusing humor into the situation and wanting to bring light back into his eyes. Whoever is going to be with Logan needs to have a sense of humor and give him as good as he gives.

the shame seems to settle, begins to dissipate. it feels less like satisfying an urge and more like. . . exploring something new. his eyes drift back to you.

Is Logan ACTUALLY going to give this thing a chance, and more importantly, HIMSELF a chance?!?!

I hate to quote too much in a story, especially an ending becuase I WANT PEOPLE TO GO READ FOR THEMSELVES but I need @silverskyeline to know that the last 3 paragraphs of this piece are SO FCKING GOOD.

The breakthrough and revelation he has, the tentative willingness to let himself release a burden and not self flagellate? OMGGGGGGGGGGG. Literally all the applause and bravo on this amazing piece. I really really fcking enjoyed it and am so grateful to you for creating and sharing.

It's really a wonderful character analysis or look at who Logan is, the person he think he has to be, with some hot smut that actually isn't a pause in the narrative but continues the throughline of exploring who he is and what he thinks he deserves and how he's giving himself permission to be a man again. I just ... I love this so so much. Thank you again.

'hunger' 18+

worst!wolverine x f!reader (3.9k words) summary: logan can't tear his mind away from the new barmaid at his usual haunt. he tries to resist you, he really does. but when you're both alone in the bathroom, he finds he's not the only one plagued with filthy thoughts. tags: for the 'longing' prompt for logan promptober, set in the bar from the movie, kind of angsty, filthy, pent up logan, alcohol consumption, doggy style, creampie, biting, light choking, pinning wrists, hair pulling, spanking, rough sex, implied age gap, sweet ending.

his usual haunts offer comfort, safe nests tucked away down isolated roads, usually requiring quite the drive to find - it's hard to find places where he's thought of as a stranger. no familiar faces, no conversation, no fuss. just logan, a bottle of whisky and time.

time spent staring into the grain of the old wood on the bar wondering how the fuck he ended up here. he'd stopped keeping count a long time ago, how long he'd been around, been alive. things get kind of hazy after two hundred years. logan had no reason to keep count.

until he saw you.

the bar was busy, as it normally was. he didn't mind it this way, less attention on him, less chances of someone trying to pick a fight with a specific stranger. not that they'd win, but logan had grown too tired for petty fights these days.

he's sat at the bar when the bartender clocks off, switching with someone new, someone he'd never seen before. you walk in and his eyes immediately scan your face, your build, your outfit. it's a habit of his, one he hoped he'd grow out of - but logan has learned that he'll never stop assessing for new threats. it's just in his dna.

but what he finds isn't a threat.

you're easy on the eyes, especially to these tired old hues that have grown accustomed to staring at the same old walls. he drags his eyes back down to his glass like he's forcing himself to look down the barrel of a gun rather than looking at you, before settling on you once more.

logan can't let himself look too much, he isn't allowed nice things, especially not pretty little things such as yourself. he's poison, tainting everything he touches, spoiling it. he's experienced enough heartbreak, enough losses for a lifetime and more.

. . . but what harm can looking do?

a few weeks pass, logan notices you're in every few nights from now on, must have been put on the regular rota. he wonders if you know most of the tips you receive by the end of the night are from him. you're diligent, you work hard, and you deserve more than the minimum wage you're probably getting.

you've never noticed him, or at least, he's never caught you looking in his direction. but he finds himself craving it, willing your eyes to meet his even for a second. the extent of your interactions have been sliding a glass or a bottle in his direction before continuing with your other duties.

it's not even lust on his mind either, he just finds himself captivated by your presence. he wonders about your life, your interests, your dreams. . . though he'd be lying if he said he'd never pictured bending you over against the bar and fucking you senseless.

he is an animal, after all.

he wonders if he should switch bars just to distance himself. he couldn't let himself become comfortable with the idea of you. relying on others was a weakness. besides, what would you be to him but just another person he'd lose someday? it wasn't worth it. you weren't worth it.

fuck.

logan curses himself under his breath for even having this internal debate. you were strangers, this was stupid, it was all fucking stupid. but the mind of a lonely old man is a desperate one, and what logan really craves isn't just eye candy. he craves a touch, that first touch that sparks electricity throughout your every nerve ending, causes goosebumps to ripple along the skins surface. he craves something, anything.

he was so fucking hungry. always so fucking hungry. a rumbling hunger that starts at the pit of his stomach and gnaws through him like a rabid animal frantically trying to escape a suffocating metal cage. it's a hunger he can't satisfy, he knows he can't satisfy. but he'd been alone so long.

surely one bite couldn't hurt?

no, he finds himself shaking his head as he stands from the bar. he'd take a leak, and leave early. it'd only been a month since he first saw you, he could get over this. switching bars wasn't particularly appealing to him, but it was better than having to look at you and feel that familiar ache.

the bathroom door swings open and he walks inside, situating himself at one of the urinals. a few moments later, the door swings open again, logan doesn't bother to look over.

"oh, thought these were empty, sorry."

his head turns quickly. it's you, mop in hand. there's an uncomfortable silence that follows.

speak, fucking speak. "it's fine."

you pause, then nod a little and begin mopping the floor.

his eyes are back on the urinal, swallowing hard. was this really going to be your first conversation? with his eyes glaring into old porcelain, dick in his hand? he tries not to picture you stealing glances at him, but he can't help it. is that what he wants?

maybe.

finishing up, he quickly makes his way over to the sinks, pushing his hands under the cool water and rubbing with soap. his eyes flit up to the mirror. and he catches you.

your eyes lock on one another for just a split second before you quickly busy yourself with the mop again.

but that split second was enough. it was enough to notice how you were looking at him.

"all done," you say with a sigh after a few moments, standing straight and gripping the mop but making no effort to leave just yet.

logan eyes you in the mirror, watches how your eyes dance across the room before inevitably landing on him again. he turns to face you, noting the distance between you both in the room.

you lean back against the bathroom stall divider, eyes drifting across logan's figure. he was tall, big. this is the first time you're really able to look at him, to study the features of his face. this time he's not hiding behind a glass or a bottle.

the hunger in his gaze is obvious, but it's dulled, like he's just barely holding back. you think he looks lonely, there's a distinct air about him that practically screams that he needs to be touched.

you rest your mop against the wall, "you're in here often." you state, it's not a question.

"guess i'm a regular," he replies curtly.

swallowing hard, you continue, "i noticed. i always have to restock the whisky when you come by."

logan pushes himself from the sink and approaches you slowly. was he really doing this? after a month of pining and longing for you, a stranger in a bar, was he really going to give in to his desires? would you let him? the lust was clear in your eyes and he knew he was reflecting it right back tenfold.

"i like a drink." he says with a subtle shrug, just a step away now, eyes never leaving yours.

a small smile tugs at your lips, "i know."

you're not sure what you're really doing. you're supposed to be on shift, designated five minutes to clean the bathrooms. five minutes you'd much rather spend doing someone something else.

you eye the stranger who's been watching you, tipping you. of course you've noticed, you'd have to be pretty stupid or oblivious not to. you've come to expect him at each shift, but his presence intrigued you more than the other regulars. not just because he was more handsome, considerably more handsome.

no, it was those sad eyes that seemed to say a million words while his mouth remained firmly shut that had you curious. even now as he stands before you so silent you could hear a pin drop, when you look into his eyes you can feel a sea of words brewing.

oh how you wanted to open him up, to peer inside behind that rough exterior, to take a peek behind the facade. you're sure you're easier to read than he is.

you're not sure when or how it happened, but he's right in front of you now, his body almost touching yours. you look up at him with a feigned innocent look.

"i've seen you, you know," you mumble bravely, "looking at me."

logan doesn't seem surprised, he brings a hand up to hold your chin, turning your face from side to side to get a proper look at you now that he has you up close. "yeah?"

"yeah," you reply shakily, "thought i was imagining it at first. but by the second night it was obvious."

he smirks, so he's not as subtle as he thinks.

your hands snake down, finding his belt buckle and brazingly begin to unbuckle it. he watches you, eyes fixated on the way your fingers move. he swears he's about to start drooling. but then you move, hands winding up to the buttons on his shirt. you splay your hands across the fabric, eyes widening when you feel what's underneath.

"are you. . . is that-"

logan grips your wrists, not the suit. he wasn't talking about that now, he had to shut you up. he leans in, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss as his strong hands keep a firm grip on your wrists. you submit, leaning back against the cubicle divider as you let him slip his tongue into your mouth.

he moans, relishing the taste of you, the taste he's thought about for so fucking long. he brings your hands up, pinning them above your head, shifting his grip so one hand easily pins your wrists, leaving his other hand free.

his free hand plants firmly across your upper chest, the rough pads of his fingers brushing against your collarbone as he explores your mouth with his tongue. you're lost in the sensation, knees going weak as you allow the older man to have his way with you. he needs this, you know it.

"taste so fuckin' sweet," he mumbles against your lips, kissing you between words, "you do this often? let men kiss you in the bathroom?"

you mumble a 'no' under your breath, ". . . just the ones who tip good," you grin.

logan feels himself chuckling, biting your lower lip. oh, he liked you. his hand travels upwards, finding purchase around your neck. you gasp in response, moaning. he eagerly swallows your moan with his mouth, drowning out any sound that threatens to escape.

the kiss grows in intensity, you wonder how long it's been since he's kissed someone. he kisses you like a man starved, like he'd devour you if you let him. and you would, you think, if it felt this good.

his hand on your neck gives a gentle squeeze before running down your torso, palming at your jeans suddenly. you try to whimper in pleasure, but he's silencing you with his lips again.

"shhh, shhh," he whispers against your lips, "feel good? i know it feels good, but you gotta stay nice and quiet." logan can feel the material of your jeans begin to damp and he resists the urge to growl, feeling the way the fabric beneath gives way.

you nod, whispering small affirmatives as he touches you through the material. "just give me more," you whine.

and that spurs him on. in a flash he's pushing you into the stall, stealing a few more kisses where he can before he turns you, pushing your back against his chest. his lips find your neck, pressing hot open-mouthed kisses along the skin he finds there.

you're like putty in his hands, melting back against him as his hand returns to your crotch, rough hands massaging circles against your clothed core. you resist a moan, exhaling shakily instead as you let him use you.

"you wanted this just as much as i did, huh?" he growls into your ear, "need it, need me to fuck you."

you nod quickly as you feel his lips curve into a smirk against your skin.

"yeah, thought so," he nibbles on your earlobe, breathing deeply through his nose as he tries to steady himself, preserve the moment. but how can he when you feel this good beneath his fingers, taste this good on his tongue? "tell me you want it."

"want you to fuck me," you whimper almost immediately, suddenly feeling so very needy. there's a hot ache growing between your legs, one you're desperate for him to fill.

logan laughs, "you can do better than that, honey, know you can."

"please," your voice cracks and you swallow back moans as you squirm beneath his touch, "please fuck me-" it becomes apparent to you at that moment that you don't even know his name. your cheeks flush at the thought of letting this stranger, this older man fuck you in the bar bathroom, but actually, you kind of like it that way.

he nods against the side of your cheek, his stubble scratching against your soft skin, "there we go, attagirl. . ."

with that, he pushes you forward, forcing your hands onto the tank of the toilet to support yourself as he bends you over. his hands find your waist, his hips connecting with yours and slowly grinding his very apparent, large bulge against you.

you let out a whimper, arching your back a little at the sudden contact.

"feel that?" he mumbles, guiding your hips to grind back against him, "feel what you do to me?"

a gasp, "fuck, you're big." you can already tell, the way his bulge is pressing against you, demanding to be felt. you swear you can almost feel it throb through the material.

"yeah i am," logan smirks, he knows he's big, and he knows exactly how to use it.

pulling back slightly, he roughly pulls your jeans down, practically manhandling you, your underwear disappearing with it. he grabs handfuls of your ass before kneading the skin. "look at that, pretty little ass, all for me."

you just have time to gasp before you feel one of his hands connect harshly with your skin, the sound ringing out in the small bathroom of the bar. "f-fuck!" you whine, feeling the sharp sting, knowing there's a bright red imprint in the shape of his large palm on your ass.

there's some jingling, the sound of his belt being moved out of the way, a zipper. you prepare yourself, or at least you try to, but his cock is already slapping against your backside before you have time to steady your hazy mind.

"you gonna take all of me?" he asks, biting his lip as his aching length slaps against your skin, "think you can?"

you nod quickly, looking over your shoulder at him, "mhm!"

"if you say so. . ." he smirks and positions himself, one hand on your hip and one aiming his cock at your tight little hole.

then, all at once he's sinking in. you gasp, he gasps. and fuck, he is big. you feel that sweet stretch, his cock throbbing against your tight walls as it slowly glides inside. you're whining as it slowly fills you, eyes rolling back at the sensation. but he pulls out a little, only to push back in again.

he's working you up just right, mesmerised by the way you take his cock. his eyes are fixed on your tight hole begging him to enter, loving the slick sound as it pushes inside.

"you've been thinkin' about this since you started your shift," logan says confidently, his words confirmed by how you drip around him, "thought about me fillin' you up, nice and full?"

despite the way your cheeks flush bright red, you can't deny it. you've thought about it more than once, fantasised about it in bed, hoping that one day that stranger from the bar would fuck you so good you forget your own name.

you don't need to reply either, because he knows. he knows from the way your wet hole flutters around him, and fuck does it make him harder to know that you've thought about this just as much as he has. he begins to pump into you at a leisurely pace, firm hands on your hips.

"holy fuck, so fuckin' tight," logan grumbles, his deep slow strokes hitting you deep as he bottoms out inside of you.

you try to turn your head, to look up at him, but he grasps the back of your hair, pushing your head down. "nu-uh, keep that head down."

he knows if he lets you look at him, look up at him for too long, he'll lose it. he can't have your soft eyes on him while he fucks you, he doesn't deserve it. he'll take you, just like this, with your head down and your ass up and his cock buried deep inside you.

because he can't describe the shame that swirls in his stomach, that this is how he relieves himself, a quick fuck in a bar. this dirty older man who's seen so much sin, perpetuated sin with his own hands, who longed for the young pretty little thing in the bar. logan doesn't deserve nice things, this he knows.

you feel his thrusts grow rougher, your legs slipping apart as you attempt to hold yourself up, hands planted firmly on the tank of the toilet. you're squeaking softly with each pump, feeling him use you to release his pent-up frustrations. and it felt so fucking good.

with his firm grip on your hair tightening by the second and his other large hand digging into your hip, you begin to bounce back against his motions, sending him even deeper. you both moan in sync with the feeling and you pant softly, cheeks flushing further at the soft 'plap plap plap' of his hips connecting with you, the sound reverberating around the small cubicle.

"that feels so fucking good," you sing, closing your eyes. logan gives a particularly hard thrust, speed picking up. you can't help but smirk, mouth stuck open as you moan softly, he likes it when you talk to him during, huh? "keep fuckin' me, just like that, so good. . ."

he groans, wrapping your hair around his fist as he relentlessly pounds into you. harder and harder, deeper and deeper, you're sure you'll have bruises littered over your body before the day is through.

"harder!" you cry, feeling your legs tremble. you're not gonna last long like this, and by the way his cock is twitching inside of you, he isn't either. "i'm gonna cum, you're gonna make me fuckin' cum!"

another groan slips from his lips, gritting his teeth as he uses you, watching you take his throbbing cock beneath him. "look so pretty like this, bent over, takin' what i fuckin- shit. . . takin' what i give you."

your body grows hotter, sweat forming on your forehead, each impact pushing you forward roughly. you're really not gonna last long.

he begins to hunch over, his chest flush with your back as he huffs against your neck, fucking you like a rabid animal. you're squealing now, the pleasure swirling in your lower stomach, threatening to send you crashing into bliss. at this point, you don't fucking care if someone walks in and finds you like this, sees his feet planted behind yours underneath the stall. in fact, the thought of the risk sends a bolt straight to your gut.

"yes yes yes," you mutter, feeling your orgasm approaching steadily. you swear you can feel him in your guts. you begin to flutter around him, begging for release, knowing it's going to completely destroy you.

logan can't even form words, just grunts slipping from his lips against the side of your neck. and then he feels it, his cock twitches, his mind reeling with the imminent release. he needs this, oh he fucking needs this.

he bites down on your neck, teeth sinking in slightly as he feels himself release deep inside you, his cum spilling out in strong waves. you feel your knees buckle, but a strong hand planted on your tummy helps keep you upright as he fucks his release deeper into you.

the animalistic nature of his thrusts combined with the sensation of his hot cum painting your insides sends you flying over the edge, your orgasm milking him as you clamp around his aching cock. he slams his hand against the stall wall with a loud metallic bang, splaying his fingers across the metal as if to ground himself as his thrusts falter.

his tongue lazily licks the indents of his bite mark against your neck, groans easing their way from the back of his throat. you can hardly catch your breath, legs still shaking from such an intense release. it's hard to think straight with his dick still buried deep inside, feeling it twitch with every aftershock.

you both stay like that for a solid minute, panting, coming down together. he's planting soft kisses along your neck as your breath slowly comes back to you.

he pulls out, stepping back as he stuffs himself into his jeans. you collapse onto the toilet seat, shakily pulling your jeans and underwear back up as you look up at him. it's clear he's looking to leave, a distant look in his eye, maybe a little shame creeping into his features.

standing on trembling legs, you lean up, giving him a surprisingly soft kiss. your hands take over his, helping him back into his jeans, zipping them up, clasping the buttons together and buckling his belt. all the while your lips are on his, slowly, passionately intertwining together.

you pull back, buttoning your own jeans as you continue to look up at him. ". . . does that count as your tip for the night?" you joke with a smirk, hoping to see a flash of his smile again, hoping to alleviate some of that shame he's carrying.

and there it is, a small smirk on his lips as he glances away. "maybe."

the shame seems to settle, begins to dissipate. it feels less like satisfying an urge and more like. . . exploring something new. his eyes drift back to you.

"i'll see you tomorrow?" you ask, tilting your head.

he blinks, suddenly remembering time exists outside this small space seemingly crafted just for the two of you. "yeah," he says, quietly.

"good," you pat his chest before moving past him, leaving the stall. you stand, looking back at him. a beat, "or, you can meet me after my shift ends?"

his eyes widen, taken aback. fuck, had he forgotten how to do this? his eyes flit to the side, before making up his mind. he gives a firm nod.

you smile before leaving him in the bathroom, returning to the bar through the door.

logan stands there for a few moments, running his fingers through his hair. he smooths down his shirt, feeling the suit beneath, a stark reminder always of his past.

but maybe he could begin to take a few steps forward. maybe he deserves more than to suffer forever, forced to keep everyone at arm's length. maybe he could allow himself this small happiness, a date, or whatever this was.

maybe it was time to satisfy his hunger, his loneliness, for good.

[straightoutthehexcore]

"Honey"

Pit fighter Vi and every other design change of hers after that can 100% get it. All day, every day. She could punch me square in the nose and I'd lap up the blood, savor the metallic taste, and thank her profusely.

Characters: Vi

Synopsis: General smut headcanons for Vi, technically Vi x AFAB! reader

Content Warning: NSFW themes (public sex, oral (fem. anatomy receiving), strap-on sex, masochism if you squint (mere mention), praise kink, mentions of tribbing/scissoring, soft dom (for the most part), overstimulation)

"She's hell in a basket, just making a racket I love every second, it's fucking fantastic."

Canon lesbian, not deviating from that. no need to bombard my requests and replies this time folks, learned my lesson.

Heavy switch, gives off top energy but could be either/or on a given day. I used to think that she was mostly a top, but after careful research watching a bunch of CaitVi scenes, yes that one too I realized that wasn't the case.

May or may not be a virgin, depends on if we're talking B.C. (before Caitlyn) or A.C. (after Caitlyn). For me personally, it's after Cait (I love crashout alt women).

I once saw a post where someone said that Cait and Vi can literally only fuck in prison cells, and that basically informed my headcanon that Vi, more than Cait, is really into public sex,

It's in the clicking heels that walk past and the small noises that make you jump as you shiver while she lays gentle kisses on your neck and collarbone. The touch of her fingertips on your sides linger, and you're genuinely a little worried but Vi's reassurance whispered into your ear makes it hard not to give in.

"Come on baby, you're okay. Besides, nothing they can do that I can't do worse."

Really good at oral, loves sucking the clit specifically because it results in an ecstatic gasp from her partner. Her grip on your supple skin is also very tight, and she'll also rub the skin of your ass or outer thighs (maybe even inching up your sides) while eating you out.

THRIVES in the 69 position, she loves having her face sat on. Already wrote about this before but it still stands.

LOVES having her hair tugged on and having you fuck/buck up into her face while giving oral.

She likes being treated roughly as a bottom too, so in whatever mood she's in, she's a slight masochist.

Bigger on strap fucking that tribbing/scissoring/etc.

Will do tribbing/scissoring for her partner (and doesn't really hate it), but doesn't necessarily prefer it.

The strap exclusively belongs to her.

Why yes, it is a HexStrap, how did you know?

Pretty good stamina, so she could top for a while. It all depends on how long you can keep up. She's a really considerate lover.

She does have her moods where she takes out her stress/anger out on you in bed, overstimulating you and taking pleasure in your cries, whimpers, and labored breaths as she teases that she knows you can cum for her one more time.

"Do it for me, I know you got it in you, just one more..."

Other than that, though, generally she's a kind lover who praises you and reassures you that you're doing just fine, your gummy walls squeezing around her strap every time she circles your clit and hits that same spot inside of you harmoniously.

"Good job, sweetheart. Taking it so well, I'm proud of you."

Also gives really sweet, meaningful, yet hungry kisses. In general, but definitely during sex.

She is a praise kink haver's wettest dream, between the voice and the idea of an edgy, dominant futch woman telling you that you're taking her cock better than she thinks anyone could.

She also kinda has a praise kink, so definitely make sure to remind her just how good she's fucking you or how it feels seeing stars with her head bobbing as she show you heaven on Runeterra.

But most importantly...

She'd 100% leave you for Cait. Any day of the week.

"Well she stings like she means it, She's mean and she's mine."

Hello hello hello once again! Figured I'd try this again... because I wanted to. The gay late night thoughts go crazy.

Oh yeah: to the same people reading this post after literally harassing me over this character’s sexuality (you know who you are), don’t do that again. I already took responsibility for what I did, but I’m telling you to not do that.

I don’t appreciate being insulted in my requests because I chose to turn off replies for a little bit because a lot of you guys were being rude asf over a fictional character. I appreciate those who were trying to kindly explain it, but when you’re acting like that over this, it’s just annoying.

On a more light hearted note, I chose this song as the title n stuff because I remembered listening to it and being like "oh, this kinda reminds me of Vi," but I listened more while writing this and realized it was so CaitVi coded, specifically from Cait's p.o.v.

So long box munchers (affectionate), Rosey <3

Masterlist is here for everyone! See ya! <3

[lilavatilikeslemons]

The One with many names

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Reminder: This is a work made from my own imagination, with inspiration from the actual itihasa, and not meant to hurt anyone's sentiments.

Thank you.

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Unedited.

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He went by many names.

Uncountable, even.

Some were innocent, sweet.

"MADHAVA, WAIT!" The third son of Pandu called out in laughter, trying to catch his breath, as his friend walked- no, practically sprinted ahead of him.

Others stood as a mere glimpse of the power he held.

"Narayana, Narayana!" The sage of Vaikuntha chanted, roaming through the worlds, singing praises of his prabhu.

Some described his beauty.

'They were right,' the daughter of Bhishmaka thought, looking only into the eyes of her Kamalanayana, focusing on the pupils of the eyes that bore into her, despite the outrage the others vassal kings, for he had come as her husband.

Others were a testament to the enchantment one faced, looking at said beauty.

"That Mohana never fails to let go of even one chance at teasing me." The gopika of Barsana lightly sulked to herself, weaving a garland of flowers for the aforementioned thief who stole her heart.

Some were names of endearment, names only a few knew of.

"Kanha, what did you do now?" The husband of Revati sighed exasperatedly, trying (but failing miserably) to hide the fond amusement in his eyes directed at his younger brother.

Others were names spoken with great reverence, by the whole world.

"Vasudeva has slain our tormentor!" A young man ran through the streets of Mathura informing everyone of the news, as the citizens celebrated their prince.

Some were names people used to call out to him as a plea, as they turned to, knowing he would not fail their trust.

"Bhaktavatsala, only you can save me, now." The daughter of Drupada called out with tears in her eyes, while light surrounded her like a shield, wrapping itself around her, coming as her saviour in his stead.

Others were the names of his which were spoken out as cries of victory, in celebration.

"Glory be to Madhusudana!" The skies of heavens called out in joy, showering flowers upon the earth, where their Lord stood.

Some were names which showed the humble roles he took upon himself in the game of life.

"My Gopala is nothing less than a handful," The chief of Gokula smiled, glancing towards the sound of the pitter patter of the anklets belonging to his son.

Others said that he was the creator of the game itself.

"Vishwarupa, I surrender to you." The third son of Pandu uttered, looking up at the sky, before kneeling in the ground, giving himself to his only truth.

…

But when one thinks upon it, they realise none can describe him in his entirety.

Who knows how many names he possesses? Some names which people call him in their solitude, others lost to time.

Perhaps, that's how it was meant to be.

But I do know something.

That all of us, in some degree, are aware of at least one of the many facets of his, all reflecting his light, in the form of his legacy, his stories, his teachings and his words in tandem to create a splendid and breathtaking display, illuminating even the farthest of nooks and crannies.

What I do know is that he is my home.

He is my solace, he is my safety.

I might not know all his names, but I know that he will answer my call, regardless of what I address him by.

I know that he is in everyone's life, nameless or otherwise.

Whether it be in your most vulnerable state, or one where you are at the top of the world.

Whether it be in what seems to be a small moment you cherish, or a lifelong joy.

Whether it be in the person you exchange pleasantries with, or someone you have conversations with for hours on end.

He is everywhere.

And for me, that is more than enough.

-----

जय सीतारामलक्ष्मण की!

I don't know what to say this time, being completely honest

I haven't touched Krishna's character (or any of the mahabharata/bhagavata characters, but specifically krishna and his close ones) out of a reluctance and fear that I'll never truly do justice to them, as these people are very, very close to my heart

Most of what I know is stuff I've learnt during the lockdown, and researched more and more till now

Frankly, I forced myself to first start writing this piece, but then as I wrote more and more I added on and on to the entire thing, but I don't have any regrets for now

I just hope the blue guy likes my first piece ab him 😔

As always, constructive criticism and comments are a joy to have, so please feel free to share your feedback!

Well, on that note, I hope y'all have a good day/night!

Stay safe, healthy and hydrated <3

Have a good one, folks!

[canmom]

A Summoning author's notes

this has been out a little while now, let me add some extra background comments...

i released A Summoning with minimal edits from the 2022 version (just adjusting a few lines of Lilith that felt a bit much really). i call it medievalist but it's not really trying for a specific time period, it's in a sort of vague floating time and place peppered with cool things from the past (like most fantasy), but i try to pull on some more unusual threads at least. very loosely you could place it somewhere in the early early modern period, 15th through 17th centuries.

in England, travelling players became more common in the Elizabethan period. the content of what they perform here is very loosely inspired by the tradition of the morality play.

the intercrural sex scene is a now largely forgotten practice, sometimes done in a sex work context (one reason being that it helps with minimising STI transmission). one notable example was Mervyn Tuchet, who was forced to read a rather convoluted statement of Christian belief and then executed for sodomy in 1631. the 'patting about the loins' joke is riffing on Chaucer. a braies is a kind of loose trouser-like clothing.

like any uminekohead would, I used a magic circle from the Key of Solomon on the cover (in this case the Fourth Pentacle of Venus, which is used to summon a person to you and command spirits of venus and thus makes sense for its use in the story, but more importantly it has a cool and intricate design), which goes back to the 14th or 15th centuries. this one includes a few letters from the Celestial Alphabet of Agrippa, which I inevitably appreciate as a Yoko Taro fan.

the wizard tower is a thing of pure fantasy. I wouldn't know where to begin researching it - I found various threads on forums and reddit about the history of the image of a wizard in his tower (for example), and there's some speculation it's inspired by Roman astrologers, but the association of wizards with towers seems to be more of a 20th-century thing, going back mainly to Howard. the sort of comically misogynist philosophy of magic followed by the Master is more inspired by the 20th-century concepts like 'orgone' than anything truly medieval, mixed with some of the wild ideas that Romans had about sexuality.

a friend reasonably pointed out that lilith's conception of transness is very modern - and sure she's a demon from another world and time, but there is a kind of unintentional aspect where it sort of suggests that from the main narrative authority in the story, the modern conception of 'transness' where you are always really a girl is the final correct one, and that seems against the spirit a bit. this feels like a misstep for me, similar to how the final act of Tipping the Velvet pulls in some quite modern lesbian politics to its Victorian setting. if I were to write again - I know as much about the Old English baedlings as anyone who reads @baeddel's blog. but this story is roughly 15th-century-ish as the other references suggest. I believe in that period, gender was understood as being more about what you do than expressing some inner essence, but I would need to research a lot more thoroughly.

nevertheless it has been in the oven for long enough, and I wanna make this a year of releasing things rather than sitting on them for years x3

the next story, The General's Worm, is a really nasty one, just undergoing a final editing pass.

[sophieinwonderland]

Here's a fun thread from the comments!

This is what we call the "I know you are, but what am I." It's a popular argument among 6-year-olds. The thing about this is that it's ultimately just vague feelings with no actual facts behind them.

You are going to notice these same themes a lot with @ilovexreaderfanfics' replies. A vague sense of "Democrats are the ones who ACTUALLY do this, not us" without any specific examples.

See what I mean!

Before going further, let me stop to cite my own sources.

Donald Trump seems to perform best with people who either never went to college, or went to college and dropped out before graduating.

The more educated someone is, the more likely they are to vote Democrat. This has been behind Republicans seeking to defund the department of education, and their targeting of student loan forgiveness programs. Because to Republicans, there is no threat greater than an educated population.

And finally, comes this. Once again, feelings over facts. A vague general sentiment that "Democrats aren't respectful" with no examples. No sources. No basis in reality.

But since you brought it up, @ilovexreaderfanfics...

Let's talk about respect!

President Jimmy Carter passed.

Tradition holds that flags be at half-staff for 30 days after the death of a President of the United States.

This is how Convicted Felon Donald Trump feels about respecting a great former president who passed.

And before anyone makes the mistake of believing anything Trump says, this is NOT the first time this has happened.

The flags were lowered during Nixon's second inauguration after Truman passed.

The flags were flown at half-staff during President Richard Nixon’s inauguration for his second term on Jan. 20, 1973, due to him having lowered them earlier for the death of former President Harry S. Truman on Dec. 26, 1972.

Trump is complaining about something that is normal to rile up an uneducated base that he knows will believe anything he says.

He's complaining about honoring a deceased former President because it will take attention away from himself.

So... Who do Republicans actually respect?

Our troops? Certainly not POWs.

On John McCain's military record, Trump once said "he's not a war hero. He's a war hero because he was captured. I like people that weren't captured."

Our kids? Trump used his platform to cyberbully a teenage girl because he was jealous of her being person of the year.

Pretending that Republicans are a party of respect is laughable.

The reality is that Republicans are the party of displaying dick pics of the children of their political enemies.

They're the party that introduced introduced a bathroom bill at congress specifically to spite the first openly transwoman elected to the House, and the American People who voted for her.

I could go on all day.

But I think this demonstrates pretty well that Republicans are the ones who will demand that they be respected, yet have no interest in respecting others.

In a way, their fictional "war on Christmas" embodies everything wrong with their beliefs.

Republicans demand the "respect" of having their holiday and their religion acknowledged by name everywhere by everyone.

When people choose to use inclusive greetings that acknowledge the many different holidays around the season, Republicans view respecting others as disrespecting them.

To the Republican, respect is a one way street. It's something meant to be given to them and literally no one else. Something they, and they alone, are entitled to.

How to trigger Republicans, sysmeds and other bigots in 1 easy steps

Step 1: Post facts with sources

That's literally it.

If you threaten them or call them names, they will feel vindicated in their persecution complexes. But if you prove them wrong with facts, they will block you instantly because being proven wrong bruises their ego and they can't cope with it.

If you're angry at bigots and want to hurt them, I promise that nothing will inflict more emotional damage than calmly explaining why they're wrong with sources to back it up.

[morganas-pendragons]

Jealousy Is Unbecoming | Celebrimbor

I got denied from my choice grad school AND I am sick. Here you go, have another fic! I have been out of it for a while. Hopefully I can start my OC fic soon.

***

“Celebrimbor? Why have you been avoiding me?” You call teasingly.

“I haven’t been doing anything of the sort. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Okay, then why don’t I go ask Márdan then?” You call over your shoulder, turning back towards the main doors of the forge. You are not very far in to courting. You however, are not naive, and have been around him long enough to know when he’s hiding something.

“You may do whatever you like.” Celebrimbor grumbled. “Márdan certainly won’t have any answers for you.”

Oh. That’s what’s what the problem is. He’s jealous of you spending time with the other Ellon that you’ve come to know from the Gwaith-I-Mírdain.

You cross the room to come stand in front of him, teasing fingers curling around his wrist. “I have a question that only you can answer. Would you like to hear it?”

He looked down at his wrist where your fingers touched him, then back up at you, bewildered. “What?” He asked.

You lean inward to whisper lowly in his ear. “How long was it going to take for you to admit you are jealous?”

Celebrimbor’s eyes widen as his cheeks redden. “What are you-I am not!”

“Márdan has been helping me with education about the forge. Things I need to know if I want to be able to craft with you and beside you.” You hummed softly and laced your fingers together. ‘’Besides, I think I’ve made one thing abundantly clear by now.”

“I am not just some young buck that I am so easily made jealous by another,” He muttered, face red.

“I don’t want some young buck.” You argued. You lean forward, ever so slowly, and touch your foreheads together. “I want you. You don’t have to worry about my eyes ever wandering to anyone else. Especially that young Ellon. He has nowhere the strength you do.” Always teasing, always gentle.

Celebrimbor stared at you, thoughts and insecurities and what ifs whirling around in his mind. After a few moments, he seemed to have calmed his thoughts and sighed. “I have been unfair to you.” He said.

“How?”

You took his hands and pressed them to your face, earnest eyes not once parting from his own.

“I’m sure you’ve noticed that I have a tendency to be…. Temperamental at times.”

“Only towards the ones you care about. It’s usually me as I’ve seen so far, but..” Realization crossed your face. “Oh. Is there a specific reason why it’s usually directed at me?”

Celebrimbor sighed and ran a hand through his hair, which at this point has become a tad disheveled. “You do not deserve it - These moods that come over me. Forgive the irrational fears of an old elf. I saw intent where there was none.”

“Celebrimbor,” You shake your head and stepped closer so you could lean into him, head resting in the crook of his neck. “Your age is of no concern to me. Do you wish to know what it was that drew me to you, and not to any of the other Gwaíth when you brought me into your care?”

“Please.”

His voice is hoarser than he’d care to admit.

“Your kindness,” You said. “Your gentleness, your capacity to love a stranger. I wasn’t drawn to Celebrimbor, Lord of Eregion and greatest of the Elven Smiths. I was drawn to you. You,” She rested her hand against his chest. “Are all I want.”

He lets you stay there nestled against him for a long moment before he pulled away to cradle your face in his hands, unshed tears glistening in his eyes. “I do not deserve you,” Before you can protest, he continued. “Valar take me, but I do not know what I did to deserve one as precious as you are.”

They’ll find out later that you were prophesied over for him, saved for him by Nienna herself. That will come. Right now you have this.

“You saved me,” You whispered. “That was enough. Do you believe me now that there is nothing to worry about?” She twisted your head to kiss Celebrimbor’s jaw. “Or do you need me to-“ And then his cheek. “Convinced you further?”

Celebrimbor took one of your hands into his and kissed the back of it, maintaining eye contact with you for the entire time. There is a playful glint to his eyes now, as if the demons have been chased away for the time being. “I might be interested in hearing more,” He murmured. “Perhaps over dinner?”

“In the gardens?” Your hair swept over your shoulder as you beamed at him. “That is our favorite spot in the city.”

“Wherever you wish it, my dear.”

[unhappy-sometimes]

a 2024 writing retrospective (for sxf fanfic)

ignore the fact that i’m a few days late. i’ve been unbelievably busy the past couple weeks.

in this post i’ll go over the fics i wrote in 2024 think of it as an extremely extended author’s notes. i love to talk and will do so when given the chance.

i’ll start from my latest fic and work my way backwards. spoilers for everything i’ve written in 2024.

(Very) Stupid

Something that I try really really hard to maintain in my writing is believability, specifically when it comes to writing characters. Characters acting out of character is one of my biggest fanfic pet peeves: if I wanted to read about someone’s oc, then I would’ve read a regular book. That being said, I think a lot about how Twilight would actually act like if he were in love. I had an interesting conversation with @cantareincminor forever ago about how he’s so emotionally constipated that it’s kind of difficult to write Twilight in love without making him a bit ooc. Right now in canon it’s hard to imagine him falling head over heels for anyone (in my opinion, anyway).

That being said there are moments in canon where he acts flustered in situations that could be interpreted as romantic. So, for right now, my hypothesis is this: if and when Twilight falls in love, he’s going to be an absolute fool. He’s going to do his usual overthinking and overanalyizing, so much to the point that he starts hesitating over the smallest things.

(Very) Stupid is how I imagine all of that unfolding, although for the sake of comedy I did push things to the absurd. Sometimes Twilight does things in canon with such certainty of “Yes, of course normal people do this, I’m nailing this normalcy thing” that he fails to realize he’s being kinda ridiculous. I also wanted to take that element and incorporate it into a fic.

I also wanted to try subverting expectations (ooh fancy literary term) by having them do romantic things that lead them nowhere. I tried to cram in as many tropes as I could—feeding each other with a fork, only one bed, first kiss—but do so under the guise of Twilight completely missing how dumb he’s being the entire time. He only realizes his feelings until after their first kiss, specifically when Yor surprises him with a quick peck on the cheek. This, of course, was deliberate. I figured that it’d make the most sense if Twilight would only realize his feelings in a situation where he wasn’t the one initiating a (somewhat) romantic gesture because he theoretically wouldn’t be overthinking it. Instead, Yor just sneaks in when his guard is down <3

Endings are usually the hardest things for me to write and (Very) Stupid was no exception. I almost had Twilight pass out at the breakfast table when he kisses Yor but then I realized I’d made him faint in almost every fic I’ve written this year and that felt like a cop out. But I figured it out and I don’t mind the way the ending turned out :D

Also, kind of a random reference, but the title is slightly inspired by VERY NICE by Seventeen lol

Holy crap I’ve written so much for only one fic so far. My apologies in advance.

21 Eden Street

I won’t go into too much detail for 21 Eden Street because it’s still ongoing, but I just wanna brag about how fun it is to write hehe. It’s really enjoyable to write pure crack and come up with stupid and insane ideas with Cantare. You don’t need to have seen either iteration of 21 Jump Street to understand what’s going on. Honestly, we’ve taken very little from the source material and treated it more like a loose guide and a basis for brainstorming.

Don’t worry, we haven’t abandoned it! Cantare is waiting on me to finish writing my chapter (hehe sorry, Cantare!) and soon it’ll be back up and running.

Seeing things

Ah, Seeing Things, my beloved <3

This fic has the least amount of hits out of everything I’ve written (which is not surprising to me) but I hold it very dear to my heart. There’s not a specific reason why other than I just really enjoyed writing it. I also spent a ton of time making supplementary drawings and a whole hype campaign for it, too, so I kinda am obligated to feel some sorta way about it.

Anyway, the way this fic came about is simple; I just had the things I am most afraid of happen to Twilight. Yes, I’m scared of serial killers and my loved ones dying like everyone else, but something I am absolutely terrified of are hallucinations. That and doppelgangers.

Not being able to tell reality apart from fiction activates the flight or fight senses in me. Real life can be scary, yes, but reality is bound by the rules of reality. Literally anything can happen in fiction. The most horrific, awful things are possible in fiction and if those things suddenly become possible in reality???? Girl I am GONE. Passing away. Curling up in a fetal position in the nearest corner. I don’t know if that makes any sense. If I ever start seeing things that I can’t be sure are actually happening or not, I am choosing to die right then and there. Doppelgangers as a concept are also really scary to me. It’s like stranger danger but times a thousand because you can’t tell who the strangers are anymore.

In my initial draft, there wasn’t nearly as much of a tension between Twilight and Yor. If I recall correctly, by then I’d written to nearly the end and realized that for Yor this whole experience has been Loid acting just a little more weird than usual. It might’ve been Cantare’s suggestion (just assume everything after Guy’s Night has been beta’d by Cantare and you’ll be mostly right) but I realized that Twilight probably would start to suspect the people around him were screwing with him. I added the scene where his room was messed up and it all fell into place hehe.

I don’t like writing gore or the like because I feel like typical gore quickly starts escalating into levels of pain that the average reader has no possibility of comprehending and it loses its efficacy. Instead I tried feeding into Twilight’s paranoia, adding things that in isolation are just weird but when put together are unsettling. I shamelessly stole the fourth room hallway from Impossible Landscapes, a Delta Green campaign that I highly recommend you check out if you enjoy surreal horror. I purposefully kept some things vague, like the things Anya sees in Twilight’s mind, the way Handler’s face gets warped, or the description of “the watchers” because I felt like going into detail would lose the unknown-ness of it all. That and I’m lazy heehee.

In some way, canon Spy x Family does deal with ideas of doppelgangers and paranoia. Spies are constantly afraid of being listened in on, they don’t know if they can trust anyone, and they always have to keep an eye over their shoulder. For someone who is always a little scared of being spied on (I cover my phone and laptop cameras for that exact reason), that kinda sounds like torture. Seeing Things was a fun way to crank that paranoia up to a hundred. It was especially fun writing the museum scene because I tried thinking of things that are just ever so slightly off, things that theoretically could exist but clearly don’t.

I also threw in other things I’m scared of, like being watched, being followed, the dark, and the bathroom at night just to be extra mean to Twilight <3

Anyway, I’m rambling and this analysis post will be a novel if I keep this up.

Guy’s Night

I do recognize the insane tone shift going from Seeing Things to Guy’s Night.

What is there to even say about Guy’s Night? I got the idea from Psych (the Last Night Gus episode) who got the general basic from the Hangover movies. I wrote it all out in a few days, one of which I was sick in bed. I don’t know what to say.

Looking back on it, I don’t love the way it turned out. I’m glad I wrote it but where I usually don’t mind rereading my stuff for fun I do kinda cringe at Guy’s Night. It relies on a lot of contrivances which I tried masking with humor but it’s still a bit obvious. If you make a timeline of the previous night’s events, it only kinda makes sense.

It doesn’t help that I went into it with no plan whatsoever. I just sat down and said what happens happens. When I wrote in chapter one that something had happened between Loid and Yor, I didn’t know what that was. When I wrote Loid saying “we need to see what’s on that camera film” I was right there next to him saying “buddy, so do I because I have no idea.” When wrote Franky saying that his friend Marko might have answers, I was hoping he would too because I, like everyone else, didn’t know what was going on either.

The ONE thing I DID know was that Twilight got a tattoo the night before. That was it. That’s all.

I don’t typically plan out everything when I write but I usually have a good idea. For Guy’s Night, I had a bad idea in that I had no idea. It kinda shows. Sorry.

That being said, it was incredibly fun writing their drunk shenanigans and banter. The dynamic between Twilight, Franky, and Yuri was so goofy that I’ve seriously debated writing a sequel of sorts. However that’s incredibly unlikely. If I ever do write a sequel, it’d be a Girl’s Night with Yor and a combination of female characters, probably Sylvia and Fiona.

After Peace (and Glimpses of Happiness)

A quick heads up: I don’t go into detail but I do discuss mental illness in this segment.

I am incredibly proud of how After Peace turned out. Not only did it receive a really good reception for being my first fic ever, but it also helped me work through some things in my own life. It’s important to give some context.

I wrote After Peace shortly after graduating college. I won’t go into specifics, but college was really, really difficult for me. I had been so excited for this next step in my life after graduating high school but instead it turned out to be one of the hardest experiences of my life. Depression came out of nowhere and stomped me into the ground.

I used to have very high expectations for myself; I had a clear vision of what I wanted to do with my life and I was taking steps to work towards those goals. Then my mental health tanked and suddenly everything just felt so difficult and pointless. I’d sleep all day and then hate myself when the sun started to set because that meant I’d wasted an entire day doing nothing when I was supposed to be working towards something. But I just couldn’t do it anymore.

That’s something I’ve noticed that a lot of media gets wrong about depression sometimes. It doesn’t always make you feel sad. Sometimes it just sucks everything out of you—sadness, happiness, anger, everything. I stopped drawing, stopped listening to music, stopped eating, stopped exercising, stopped doing everything that I enjoyed because it felt like the equivalent of doing the dishes. Everything was a chore, even the things that I liked.

What really changed things around was when my poor roommate, who was sick of me sleeping for twenty hours a day, dragged my sorry self to the free counseling services on campus. It’s doesn’t fix everything, but having someone who cares about you and you care about can really help your mental health.

Anyway, let’s not forget I’m talking about an anime fanfiction here haha.

After Peace really did start out as a couple of doodles but as I started to write it, I noticed that there were a lot of similarities between myself and Loid. No, I am not a former spy turned grumpy hermit, but I did once have great aspirations and now have to settle for what reality offers me. Realizing that worth comes from simply existing was something that I had to understand in order to begin my recovery process.

I’ve always found it kind of sad that if you took away the goal of world peace from Twilight that you’re basically left with nothing. He doesn’t really have hobbies, no real friends, and he never takes a day off. That’s hardly sustainable. Would he really be happy when there’s nothing left to do? I’d like to think so, but I wanted to see what would happen if he wasn’t.

I mentioned this in the end note, but After Peace was also influenced by this comic I was working on years ago that had the similar premise of “grumpy man learns to enjoy life with the help of a young girl” (very original, I know). I doubt that I’ll ever release that comic in the capacity I once intended, but it does live on in my secret second tumblr account of you ever manage to find it.

Anyway, I was worried about writing After Piece because Anya plays a big role and I am Not Good at writing children. It was hard striking a balance between making Anya likeable but still realistic. I don’t interact with children often and, as a youngest sibling, I don’t have much experience with them. Anya has so many layers—being a test subject, being a telepath, being a child—that it was hard managing them all. But I’m okay with how she turned out.

There is a slight problem in that she basically disappears once Yor shows up D:

I debated having Yor in the fic at all but then I realized that without her the emotional climax would have to rely on a four year old’s emotional intelligence and then decided right then and there that Yor had to be in it haha.

Yor’s whole deal with accidentally killing the wrong person was kind of a last minute addition. I do wish I was able to explore that more, but I also feel like she’s emotionally mature enough to forgive herself more quickly than Twilight would. She ends up serving a bit of a role model to him. It was also nice to be able to write them interacting with the truth out on the table and for them to be honest with each other.

Pacing was something that I was very concerned with. Looking back on it now, I’m still worried that things move along a bit quickly. However, I am reminded of some advice my graphic design professors gave me: “Good design is when nothing more can be take away.” And, because I was writing this as fast as possible, you best believe I was taking things away if I didn’t need them. I didn’t want to fall into the trap of dwelling on Twilight’s thoughts for too long so I instead opted for showing him progressing through experiences instead. I think it worked out.

However because I took so many things out I decided to start Glimpses of Happiness, a supplementary fic to After Peace that fills in the cracks, so to speak. I wanted to have more moments between Twilight and the other characters, like stargazing with Anya and growing close to Yor. Right now there’s only one chapter, but I have plans for at least a few more. I also thought it was important to highlight that mental health recovery never truly ends. Just because Yor and Twilight had a nice chat on the roof doesn’t mean that things are suddenly okay. It’s a long process that sometimes never ends and I wanted to show that.

Of course, I can’t talk about After Peace without addressing the Midwest allegations. As I said, yes, this fic was inspired by my childhood in the American Midwest, even though I was nowhere near any mountains. The Midwest is a silly place full of nothing to do but go to your local Walmart for fun, but I think it served a good enough setting for Twilight to chill out and slow down. If I really wanted to do full Midwest, I’d have Twilight watch a tornado touch down on a cornfield from his truckbed, but that feels sort of out of place.

I feel like there’s more to say but I can’t think of anything and I doubt anyone’s actually gonna read all the way down here anyway. But yeah, that’s After Peace.

Oh, and the A.M. AM by Damien Jurado Youtube video currently has nine comments that mentjon falling from a five story building, which I think is really funny.

So now what?

Against my better judgement, I’m still writing. I have a couple projects in the works, especially one big big big one that hopefully I can start publishing soon. Keep an eye out for that.

In the meantime, thanks for a great year! I hope 2025 holds more great things in store for us all!

-unso ^. .^<