#it takes so much just to get them to a space where they CAN talk and when they get there there's WAY TOO MUCH TO TALK ABOUT

[tetedurfarm]

get started in meat rabbits masterpost!

yesterday i accidentally hijacked a friend's post and got way more engagement than i expected, which is both amazing and exhausting. so today i present to you: a big post full of resources and answers to the most common questions i've been getting! please refer to this now before dming me with questions <3

information below the cut!

why rabbits?

because they're one of (and in my opinion, THE,) best small-scale meat animal out there. they are relatively small, extremely quiet, can live in cages and therefore do not take up much space, and have a higher feed conversion rate (meaning they make more meat per lb of feed) than chickens, and their poop is AMAZING for gardening! in the footprint of a washer and dryer you can have a trio of breeding animals and space for growing out their litters if you use stacking cages. you just can't beat that.

what do they taste like?

like chicken or turkey. domestic rabbit meat is a very mild, white meat, and can be substituted for chicken in almost every meal. most of my rabbit i grind into mince and use it in place of ground beef. my rabbits, at least, get enough fat to make it unnecessary to cut the mince with pork or beef fat, so even the burgers are really juicy!

how much do they cost?

this depends heavily on where you live, though imo they have a fairly low upfront cost relative to other livestock. your biggest upfront expensive will be cages, though you can find good deals on cages and other equipment at livestock auctions/swaps and craiglist/kijiji/similar. the rabbits themselves can be anywhere from free to $100+, though i personally would not pay more than $30-$35 USD for a meat animal (but again, your average prices may vary.) after that, it's all in the price of feed.

feed costs vary from area to area and brand to brand - generally a locally milled feed will be a bit more cost-effective but they can also be lower quality so do your research. depending on your area, you can also feed rabbits partially or even completely on forage or pasture, just make sure you keep an eye on your parasite loads and weights to ensure they are eating enough.

this is a good site that discusses rabbit safe forage: https://riseandshinerabbitry.com/2012/02/26/safe-food-list-for-rabbits/

and this is a good site discussing hay: https://hoppyharlequinsrabbitry.weebly.com/hay-chart.html

this page is focused on other larger livestock but is a decent basic rundown on reading a feed lablel: https://s3.wp.wsu.edu/uploads/sites/2070/2023/03/FS138E_Reading-a-Feed-Tag.pdf

and a basic overview of rabbit nutrition: https://www.merckvetmanual.com/exotic-and-laboratory-animals/rabbits/nutrition-of-rabbits#Pelleted-Diets_v54343534

i do not personally believe that feeding hay is necessary for rabbits to be healthy, which is contrary to what most of you may have heard from online sources. we'll talk about that in a minute. all commercially-available pelleted rabbit feets are made with hay, and the 'long-stem' thing you read about is based on studies in ruminant animals that DO need a 'grass mat' to digest properly...but rabbits are not ruminants. they chew up their hay into fine dust, which is basically what pellets are anyway.

what other equipment do i need?

obviously, your first step should be cages. i prefer cages that are either 24x24 or 30x30 inches depending on the size of the rabbit. you generally want a cage big enough for the animal to lay flat on its belly with its legs out and not touch at least one of the sides (i prefer them to be able to touch none,) and tall enough that they can sit up comfortably. i like to err on the side of larger for breeding does, since their nestbox will take up floor space for a few weeks, and the kits need room to run around and grow before they are weaned. weaned kits need a larger cage or hutch to grow out in until they are eating size.

these cages can be wire bottomed or solid bottomed, just be aware of the hygiene differences between these styles of cages. wire cages are not evil, and will not harm a rabbit's feet provided it has proper density of fur. you can avoid foot problems by buying and breeding rabbits with well-furred feet.

other necessary equipment includes: feeders (j-feefers or pro-b feeders are my favourites), some way to provide water such as bottles, crocks, or an automatic watering system, a hay rack if you want to provide hay, grooming tools such as combs and brushes (if applicable; most rabbits will not need much grooming,) nail clippers, a first-aid kit containing things such as scissors, vet wrap, antibiotic gels and drops, saline solution, fenbendazole (brand name panacur, a dewormer,) gas medications such as simethicone/gas-x, critical care (a specially formulated powdered feed that you can mix into a gruel and syringe feed rabbits that won't eat on their own,) probiotic powder, electrolyte powder, and of course, toys!

make sure any provided toys are edible (so avoid plastic,) and will not get turned into mush and cause dirty mats in the cage when peed on. toilet paper and paper towel tubes are great, as are just chunks of untreated lumber offcuts, wooden baby blocks, or soda boxes. if you have some splurging money, bird toy websites like abirdtoy.com have amazing selections of things that rabbits love destroying. i recommend the refillable skewers!

what about vet care?

this is a fairly divisive topic. most vets do not know much about rabbits, and those that do are typically operating on outdated or simply untrue information that aligns with animal rights groups. therefore, a lot of meat and show breeders do not trust or use vets unless the situations are dire or there is disease testing to be done, and then generally we'll go to our state's ag exstension or college lab. i don't want to come off as anti-vet, i am far from it. but i and most people i know have not had good experiences with vets treating rabbits.

in general, exotic animal vet care (and yes, rabbits are considered exotic pets,) is extremely cost-prohibitive in general, much less when you have multiple animals. like most farmers, rabbit breeders typically handle basic medical situations ourselves.

medirabbit is a great resource for rabbit medical information including illnesses and medication dosages: https://www.medirabbit.com/

how many rabbits do i need?

the average litter size is between 5 and 8 kits, and rabbits can breed montly (though i recommend giving the girls breaks between litters depending on how they kept condition.) a trio of one buck and two does can produce a very good amount of meat for a one or two person household. my spouse and i lived on five or six litters a year for a very long time, using rabbit as our primary meat source!

do they need friends?

no. despite what house rabbit circles tell you, rabbits do NOT need companions and in fact having cagemates can stress them out unnecessarily. rabbits live in warrens in the wild, yes, but that is a survival tactic and the warrens are usually very violent and only work because they can run away when they need to. in capitivity, rabbits that are cohabitated can and commonly will KILL one another. it is much safer and less stressful to keep rabbits in their own spaces. i promise they won't mind.

rabbit colonies, where they are raised together in more 'natural' systems, are becoming very popular with homesteading circles but you should not jump into colonies as your first way to keep rabbits. they require just as much if not even more time and effort to manage than your typical cage setup. plus, you have to have the space to do that, which not everyone has.

can you help me find rabbits?

maybe! if you live in the united states and are comfortable sharing your local craigslist, i can take a look and link you to any rabbits or equipment i think would be worth your time. if you are local to me in western washington's i-5 corridor counties, i may have rabbits i can sell you for the price of feed and gas, but that depends on availability. if you are on the olympic peninsula in kitsam, jefferson, or clallam counties, hit up my buddy ren @buttonbuckfarm for similar services.

arent't they really fragile?

yes and no. rabbits are prey animals with an extremely specialised digestive system. if you are familiar with horses...same deal. if a rabbit stops eating, it will die, and they love bloating/colicking just like horses. there are also a few diseases that are common in rabbits that you should keep an eye out for, especially if you pasture or forage raise.

that being said, rabbits are not made of glass. you can flip them, you can poke them, prod them, put them in a car, drive them across the country, and squish them into weird shapes on a show table. as long as you take precautions during stressful situations and desensitise them to things like handling and transport early, they're shockingly physically hardy despite their sensitive guts.

i'm scared to kill them...what if i mess up?

it's perfectly understandable to fear the end of the process of raising rabbits. and accidents do happen. slaughter is a skill that must be practiced, and maybe you can take solace in knowing that we have all messed one up at some point or another. when this happens, the only thing you can do is try again as quickly as you can until you can confirm the animal is dead. and then take a minute to decompress.

it comes easy to me, but i know that is not true for everyone. but i am a firm believer that if you are going to eat meat, you should know where it comes from and how it gets to your plate. the best thing we can do for our food is to give it a wonderful life, kill as kindly as we can, and use as much of it as we are able.

here is the AVMA's list of approved humane slaughter methods: https://www.avma.org/sites/default/files/2020-02/Guidelines-on-Euthanasia-2020.pdf

and you can find pretty good videos of the various methods demonstrated on rabbits specifically on youtube:

broomstick, choke chain, bunny ballista, hopper popper

please be aware that the above videos show animals being killed. though if you are reading this i imagine you are prepared to see that.

how do i process them once they're dead?

this is another one you can find pretty good videos of online. visiting a local rabbit show may get you in contact with someone willing to teach you in person, as well!

i am working on a big project website that is basically all i think you should know about raising rabbits, which will include detailed slaughter, skinning, and butchering videos, though as of now these are not available. i plan to have this project at least usably done by the end of the year!

ok so what's the thing with pet owners vs breeders

you may have noticed that i've been doing some 'as you may have heard' debunking in this post. that's because there is a very huge divide between the beliefs and practices of pet rabbit owners versus show and meat breeders and owners. why? well, that's complicated, but the big bad evil guy that is the first place to point at is the House Rabbit Society, or HRS.

the house rabbit society is basically rabbit PETA. i am not joking. here is a big masterpost on all their bullshittery: https://www.tumblr.com/o-i-have-too/185596917579/a-masterpost-of-house-rabbit-society-bullshit

i know this comes off as me having an agenda, and i guess i can't say that i don't, but i believe that the HRS' rules and rhetoric are not just wrong they are actively dangerous to follow. i have owned rabbits for nearly a decade and have produced more somewhere in the 1,500 range of animals in that time. i have owned a LOT of rabbits and have experienced all the different ways they can thrive and die and have done a lot of experimenting to find what works. just about everything the HRS says about caring for rabbits is blatantly false according to my experience. proper wire cage floors do not destroy feet. rabbits do not need hay if they eat a good pelleted diet. pellets are not evil or 'fattening' or the main cause of stasis. rabbits do not need leafy greens or veggies. rabbits do not need to be bonded. they are perfectly happy living alone, in cages. flipping a rabbit is not torture and is in fact sometimes necessary for many reasons. meat and show breeders are generally not contributing to the 'overpopulation' problem - if we don't want an animal most of us just eat them. breeding for meat is not evil if it's done appropriately and they are killed humanely.

unfortunately the HRS won the google SEO game and so their website and the sites of others that believe their rhetoric are the only thing that comes up on the first pages of search results. i'm not saying you have to blindly trust me, but i have the experience, and the combined experience of many of my peers both online and offline, that says that basically everything they believe in and preach is just...not true.

anyway that's it, hope this answers most of your questions! i may add to this in the future depending on what other questions i may get. stay tuned for updates on my website project and in general more farm content, rabbit and otherwise :)

[rhube]

Listen, having worked in university marketing, I am here to tell you that not all ads are evil or trying to deceive you. People work really hard at conveying precisely the information you need that will tell you if a product is for you.

There are people in advertising and marketing who are well aware of the laws about not deceiving customers and who think constantly about what they can provide evidence to claim, not making stuff up.

And yeah, they're trying to persuade you, but that doesn't automatically mean 'buy this piece of shit we're telling you is solid gold'. It means, 'we really believe in this, we have evidence that it's good and could be a great thing for you, but we need to find a way to tell you that and make you trust us' which takes a lot of thought.

And as a consumer there's a lot of stuff I just wouldn't know about if not for advertising. We need advertising to tell people there are solutions to problems, quality products, and fun things to get excited about.

Advertising isn't inherently BAD. And it's one of the few industries in which creative people can make a liveable wage with their art or writing.

The problem we have at the moment is that a lot of people with no training in making good ads, people who don't care about laws, or are based somewhere with less regulation, who are churning out annoying, misleading, not-accesdible garbage.

And these people aren't researching their audience and tailoring the content to people for whom its relevant. Instead a whole tech industry has grown up where people who know fuck all about marketing have companies that scrape and aggregate your data, who sell it to other tech companies that sell advertising space, which is bought up by yet another automated service that has been trained to get 'the best deal' for the company that wants to sell a product.

That's not how it works when you wanna make a useful ad. You should be doing customer research with your actual customers. Analysing the data you get to tailor both the advert and the advertising space.

But these automated systems talking to other automated systems don't do that.

Like, first off, the data is SHIT. It may not even differentiate content you noped out of from stuff you looked at for half an hour. And if it does, it treats all the content on the page equally. All the stuff you're ignoring is tagged as 'on sites this user spends a lot of time on'. Whereas human customer research, for which customers consent and usually receive some kind of reward, involves tracking eye movements, mouse movements, clicks, and an interview afterwards to ask what they were thinking about and why they stayed on one page over another. This is so much more helpful! It helps make content more useful to users and prevents wasted marketing effort.

But almost no one does it these days because, well, it's expensive. You gotta compensate the consumers you do your research with, design sensible things for them to test, have someone monitor and analyse what they do, and interview them after. That's very expensive compared to a bunch of lightning fast calculations that can all be automated. So companies don't pay to do it properly, and they don't actually tailor their ads to you, and they're not trying to be informative.

At best (and I can't stress enough how rare this is) ads that are based on this data and algorithms and/or machine learning deliver what will get you to look at the ad for longer or click the ad to go to a website. But if that means bright flashing colours and the world's tiniest 'x' so you can't actually close the ad without clicking through, these automated systems are designed to get you to do THAT, not buy the product.

Honestly, I know it sounds like I'm asking for sympathy for the devil, but I have seen this from the tech side, the marketing side, the researcher side, and the user doing the test. I have taken a course on content strategy and heard what academics in this field have to say, and it's honestly not evil. They're trying to adapt to an environment where you're constantly barraged with demands on your attention, so it is in the advertiser's best interest to be clear and tailored and not waste your time.

But unfortunately an awful lot of people have been sold on the idea that these automated systems ARE targeting people who would be interested with stuff that's relevant to them, and they're just NOT.

You can see it if you compare an entertaining TV ad by an established brand who can pay for the research to the vast majority of internet ads. They can be funny, entertaining, informative, even insightful. They can also be stereotyped and annoying of course, but on the whole they're much less of a headache than the nonsense funnel we get exposed to constantly online and in mobile games.

Tbh, advertisers, producers, and consumers have all been screwed over by VC-owned companies that are being squeezed from on high for every last drop of short term capital. And that means automating things because it's cheaper and quicker than human analysis, even if it means the whole thing becomes annoying, unhelpful garbage.

But scale it back and think about your artist friend. Your creator with a small etsy business. Your self-published author. Your inventor with a neat accessibility tool. They aren't producing groceries, but if they don't advertise, literally no one will know their products exist.

Advertising DOES have a good and important role. Under-regulated advertising in a toxic system not aimed at serving producers OR customers is hamstrung and cannot perform that role.

The only acceptable ads should be shit like "groceries on sale" and "free event at the local library"

[tomssexdoll]

Fire and Ice

PAIRINGS: Tom 2010 x Female reader

CONTENT: ANGST + SMUT + FLUFF

SYPNOSIS: Tom and Y/N have been enemies for years, they go to the same university and he is such a pain in the ass. One day at a party they get into an argument, one slap leading to him giving Y/N a taste of how he really felt about her.

A/N: if you want to be tagged or i accidently missed your tag comment on my pinned masterlist <3

WARNINGS: dom!tom, sub!reader, p in v (missionary but turns into riding), mutual masturbation, LOTS OF TEASING AND KISSING, arguing (some violence but only a tiny bit)

Tom kaulitz was my "enemy", he was in the same university as me and much to my luck, every single class I was in. He was a pain in the ass, a real asshole. He always teased me, only choosing to be an asshole to me and nobody else.

I didn't really know why he chose me to be his personal punching bag, it's not like I ever did anything, he was always just like that, trying to target me in any way he could, finding flaws and running with them.

He acted like an immature teenager, throwing paper balls at me just to spite me, he was disrespectful, always invading my personal space. I was sick of it, I came close to just punching him in the face multiple times and he loved it, he loved the reactions he got out of me.

One day, I got invited to one of his friends parties at their mansion. It was gonna be quite a big party, filled with hundreds of people I didn't know. My friends were going and I decided to not let Tom dictate my night, wanting to have fun without him disturbing it like he always did. I got dressed, wearing a skimpy red dress that accentuated my curves, paired with some black louboutins. I chose a simple makeup look and straightened my hair, keeping it down.

We arrived quite late, walking inside the mansion and admiring the interior design, walking outside where everyone was. We were greeted by the host and given some drinks, the music blasting in our ears and the smell of alcohol wafting through the air. We looked around to see a majority of people in the pool, splashing around and having fun, the cool night air breezing against our skin.

He was in the garden, talking to some friends. He was already quite drunk, wearing a white t shirt with some random band on it, dark blue baggy jeans and a leather jacket. He had a cigarette in one hand and beer in another, taking occasional drags from his cigarette, blowing the smoke into the night sky.

I walked over to the cooler, I had already finished my drink and rummaged through it, finding bottles upon bottles of beer until I spotted a seltzer can, I grabbed it and cracked it open, taking a small sip.

Toms eyes caught me from across the yard. He muttered something to his friends before saunting over, his movements confident and purposeful. He stopped a few feet away, eyeing the rink in my hand with a smirk. I was with my friends, they just settled with the beer and we started to talk.

Tom interrupted my conversation, his voice loud over the music, "not drinking tonight?" he teased, tipping his beer bottle towards my seltzer. His tone was mocking, as if he didn't believe I'd have the self control, "or are you on a special diet?" he pouted sarcastically.

I rolled my eyes and looked him up and down, "fuck off Tom, go back to your deadbeat friends, I'm sure they'd love your company right now," I winked, making a blowjob motion in my mouth, with my tongue, my friends chuckling with me.

Toms face darkened, he stepped closer, towering over me. "You've got a smart mouth on you," he growled, leaning in, his voice low, "careful...it might get you into trouble.." he paused, his gaze flicking to my lips. I bursted out laughing, "aww I'm so scared, mr tough guy! Get the fuck out of here Tom," I turned back to my friends.

Toms hand shoots out, grabbing my arm and spinning me back around to face him. His grip is firm, almost painful, "you think this is fucking funny?" he sneered. "You think you're better than me?" he raised his voice, looking at my friends, a cold glare. "Hey! Don't talk to my fucking friends like that, have some respect!" I raised my voice back, shoving him off me.

He stumbled back a step, surprise flashing across his face before his expression hardened again. He took a step forward, crowding my personal space, I had to admit, he was kind of sexy when he was mad. "You push me..I push back.." he gave me a small shove, "you shove me, I shove harder," he said darkly.

I slapped him harshly across the face, the sound of the slap echoing, catching everyone's attention, "get the fuck away from me Tom!" I screamed. His head snapped to the side, for a moment he was stunned, his hand coming up to touch his reddening cheek. Then his eyes narrowed dangerously as he turned back to me, "you fucking bitch.." he grunted, his chest heaving with intense anger.

Without warning, Tom grabbed my waist and threw me over his shoulder, "you think you're fucking tough, huh? You think you can mouth off to me and get away with it? I don't fucking think so!" he yelled, marching inside the house as I kicked and screamed.

"GET OFF ME YOU BASTARD! FUCK YOU!" I kept screaming obscenities at him, clawing at his back and kicking his stomach, but he didn't budge, my blows to him were like tiny punches. He laughed at my attempts to escape and bursted into an empty bedroom, sitting me down on the dresser.

He stood in between my legs and looked down at me, his eyes burning with rage, "look at me.." he growled, grabbing my chin and forcing me to look up at him, "why do you have to be so difficult all the time, hm?" he said lowly. I scoffed and looked at him in disbelief, "you were the one that fucking started it Tom, don't start with that shit!" his jaw clenched, his hands fisting at his sides.

"I don't give a fuck whether I started it or not, you don't get to just slap me around whenever you feel like it," I furrowed my eyebrows, "and you don't get to taunt me whenever you feel like it, you're such a fucking hypocrite!" I raised my voice, I could physically feel the anger rising in me.

"Shut your mouth.." he hissed, grabbing my chin tighter, "oh fuck you Tom, shut your fu-" he silenced me with a brutal, passionate kiss, crashing his mouth against mine, his hands gripping my thighs painfully tight. He kissed me rough and hard, his teeth biting into my lower lip.

When he pulled back, we were both breathing heavy, chests heaving. "You fucking infuriate me.." he growled, "oh shut up you love it," I glared at him and smashed my lips into his once again, passionately kissing him, our tongues fighting for dominance.

He groaned against my mouth, his hands coming up and tangling in my hair. He kissed me back just as passionately, his anger morphing into desire. He grinded his hips against mine, showing me just how much he does 'love it'.

"You're such a fucking cunt..I hate you.." I grunted against his lips, he chuckled, "you hate me, I hate you," he muttered, his mouth moving to my neck. He sucked and bit at my skin, marking me, "but we both know you'd beg for me.." he smirked.

I rolled my eyes, "wipe that shit eating grin off your face, you're not smart," he chuckled and kept kissing my neck, trailing up to my jawline, "cmon baby.." he pouted, "stop fighting me, let me make you feel good.." he whispered in my ear, his breath hot.

I bit my lip and turned my head to the side, "mmmh...stubborn girl.." he moved his hands down my body, grabbing my thighs and pulling me closer to him. His grin widened, knowing it'd irritate me. He slid his hands under my dress and gently grazed his fingers over my panty covered pussy, letting his fingers drag along, teasing me.

"Tom.." I gasped, looking up at him, "that's it baby...relax.." he cooed, his voice filled with sarcasm. "Oh fuck you.." I reached my hand out and grabbed his bulge, squeezing it softly, "not so fun when it's being done to you, hm?" he inhaled sharply as I groped him, his hips jerking forward into my touch.

"Careful.." he warned, but his voice was strained with pleasure. He grabbed the straps of my dress and dragged them down my shoulders, letting them slip through my arms. He then reached behind me, gently gliding the zipper down, in one swift motion he took my dress off, revealing myself to him.

I was barely wearing a bra and panties, I had a black thong on and a skimpy lacy bra, my tits practically spilling out of my bra. "Fuck you're gorgeous.." he groaned, diving his head down and kissing my neck once again, leaving a new trail of hickeys.

"You walk around looking like that.." he spread my thighs wider, growling softly in my ear, "it's asking for trouble.." he trailed his kisses down to my collarbone, then my cleavage.

I gently pushed him back, grabbing his belt and sliding it off. My fingers focused on the buttons of his jeans, letting it fall down and pool at his ankles. His shirt followed soon after, I trailed my fingers down his abs, watching as he stood before me only in his boxers, his erection strained and his muscular physique on full display.

I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled him in, using one of my hands to bring his hand to my wet pussy, "don't be afraid.." I smirked, my words laced with playfulness. "Mmmh.." he hummed, slipping a finger beneath my thong and into me.

He pumped in and out slowly, his thumb rubbing circles over my sensitive bud. "And what am I afraid of exactly..." he whispered, "of this...?" he added another finger, causing me to moan softly.

"Mmmh..good girl.." he praised. I used my free hand to trail it down his stomach to his lower belly, then to his boxers. I slipped my hand inside and found his hard cock, pulling it out and slowly jerking him off in time with his thrusts.

His eyes rolled back as I jerked him off, his hips rocking against my hand. He curled his fingers deeper inside me, fucking me with his hand as he toyed with my clit. "Fuck...fuck!" he panted, his free hand fisting on the dresser.

I leaned in and kissed him passionately, speeding up my movements on his cock, my hand rapidly gliding up and down his shaft. He groaned loudly and sped up his movements, rapidly pumping his fingers in and out of my needy pussy, curling upwards to drive me crazy, hitting that spot inside me that I loved.

"Mmmh!" I whined against his lips, we continued our movements together, getting each other off. The kiss got more passionate as things got more heated, our orgasms approaching rapidly. I felt a fire in my stomach, a burning sensation I desperately needed to satisfy.

I could feel his cock twitching in my hand, desperate for release, my pussy also throbbed against his fingers, my clit sensitive and aching. "You're so fucking sexy..oh fuck..gonna cum.." he grunted, his chest heaving, his hand on the dresser unfisting and coming to my thigh, holding onto me tightly.

I moaned and rolled my eyes back, my orgasm coming crashing down in time with his, he let out a low, guttural moan against my mouth, his hips jerking forward as he spilled into my hand. He rested his forehead against mine, breathing heavily, "bed..."he mumbled, lifting me and carrying me to the bed, throwing me onto it, "now.." he crawled up towards me, hovering over me.

I grabbed his face and kissed him passionately, I needed his lips on mine, forever. He kissed me back fiercely, years of pent up frustration pouring out. His tongue dominated mine, teeth clashing as he pinned me to the bed. He settled between my thighs, breaking off the kiss, his chest heaving as his fully erect cock pressed against my core.

He moved his hands down and yanked my thong off, then moving to my bra. He practically ripped my bra off, grabbing my tits and squishing them together, shoving his face in them, licking and sucking relentlessly, "so good..fuck..these perfect fucking tits..oh god.." he groaned, licking and sucking my nipples rapidly.

"Please fuck me.." I whined, my hands roaming around in his hair. He kept feasting on my chest, his mouth and hands everywhere at once. He licks and bites at my supple mounds, his calloused fingers pinching and rolling my hardened peaks. He pulled back, his eyes hungrily taking in my heaving chest, "look at you..so desperate for my cock...hm? Aren't you?" he growled.

When I didn't answer he reached up, his hand fisting in my hair and pulling on it, bringing me close to his face. "Aren't you?" he repeated, his voice raised, I nodded eagerly and whined, "please...give me your cock Tom, stop fucking teasing!"

He chuckled and spread my legs, hooking his arms in my thighs and pulling me closer, his tip prodding at my entrance, waiting impatiently. With a grunt, the thrusted forward, burying himself inside me in one smooth motion.

"Holy fuck!" I gasped, he didn't give me time to adjust, immediately starting to piston in and out of me at a brutal pace. He grips my thighs hard, his fingers digging into my flesh as he fucked me mercilessly, "TOM!" I yelped, holding onto him tightly, my tits bouncing wildly as his thrusts kept increasing.

He grinned wickedly, loving the way I reacted to him. He leaned down and kissed me hard, swallowing my cries as he continued to pound into me. "You take me so well.." he groaned, his hands squeezing my backside. I whined and kept kissing him, I could almost feel him in my throat.

He suddenly flipped us around so I was on top, he sat up against the pillows of the bed and grabbed my ass tightly, lifting me up and slamming me onto his cock repeatedly, I rolled my eyes back, the intense pleasure causing my body to shake.

"I can't take it! Too much!" I cried out, his eyes darkened and he thrusted harder, "you're going to take, every. single. inch." he said, his words in time with his thrusts. "Understand?" he whispered sadistically, I nodded and whimpered, my legs trembling uncontrollably.

He smirked arrogantly, knowing he was overwhelming me, but he loved it, he loved how I fell apart against him. He continued to lift and drip me onto his lap, his powerful arms handling me with ease. "Touch yourself...touch that sensitive clit baby, show me how much you love this cock stuffed inside you.." he grumbled, guiding my hand down.

"I've waited so long for this moment, everytime I see you I can't stop thinking about how fucking hard I'd make you take my cock..the sounds you'd make.." he whispered against my skin.

I rubbed shaky circles on my clit, my mouth slightly agape as I felt my orgasm rapidly approaching, I was being sent into a state of pure ecstasy, my vision going blurry. "Cmon, cum for me baby!" he yelled, placing his hand over mine and speeding my hand up, "FUCK, FUCK, FUCK!" I moaned loudly, my pussy clenching around his cock tightly as my orgasm came crashing down.

He groaned loudly "this pussy is so fucking good, fuck!" he slammed me down one last time, burying himself to the hilt as he exploded inside me, cum leaking down my walls. He held me tight, his face buried in my neck as he rode out his high.

"Oh my god...fuck..." he panted, "that was amazing.." I whispered, my chest heaving as I tried to calm down. After a while of settling down, I got up, my shaky legs walking over to find my clothes, as I went searching I caught a glimpse of myself, something on my neck.

I turned to look, my eyes widening as I saw my neck and chest were FULL of hickeys. "Hickeys? Seriously Tom, what are you, 12?" I groaned, running my fingers over them, he chuckled and came up behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist and inspecting them, "fuck..I did a number on you didn't I," he pressed a soft kiss to my shoulder, "oops.." he mumbled.

"Lets get out of here, yeah?" he turned me to face him, his eyes softer now. I nodded softly and gathered all my clothes, sitting on the bed to get dressed. He put his clothes back on, adjusting himself and taking my hand, guiding me out of the party.

tags: @ballhair @bills-wife-1 @bkaulitzlover

tags: @ella1289 @billsdolliest @tomscumdoll

tags: @tomsfuckdoll @tomkslut @miyukafujii

tags: @itsangelll

[millyh23]

Just a Scratch

Leah Williamson x Reader

word count:

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It was supposed to be a peaceful day. The kind of day that Y/N and Leah loved, filled with quiet drives and lighthearted conversations. After a week of intense training, both were looking forward to a bit of downtime. Leah had suggested a short road trip to the countryside, and Y/N couldn’t argue—spending the afternoon together, winding through the rolling hills and quiet roads, sounded perfect.

Leah had parked her car in the apartment’s underground garage, as she usually did, a spot meticulously chosen to ensure her car was out of harm’s way. Y/N, however, wasn’t used to this kind of care with a vehicle. In the past, she had always treated cars like just another mode of transportation, never really focusing on keeping them pristine. Leah, on the other hand, was a different story—her car was her baby.

Y/N didn’t want to mess up the vibe. She wanted to impress Leah, to show her that she could be just as careful. But as she backed the car into the tight garage space, something went horribly wrong. Her attention had been elsewhere, distracted by the morning's conversation with her teammates. She hadn’t noticed the trash can that had been left in the corner.

The moment she heard the screeching sound—metal against metal—her heart plummeted. Y/N winced, quickly putting the car in park and getting out. Her eyes immediately went to the side of the car, where a long, deep scratch ran across the door.

Her stomach churned. She knew Leah loved this car. She had heard Leah talk about it with so much pride, how she’d worked hard for it, how she maintained it like a precious gem. And now… Y/N had ruined it. In that moment, a thousand thoughts raced through her mind—what if Leah was furious? What if she couldn’t forgive this? What if this was the thing that broke them?

Her palms were sweaty as she ran her hands through her hair in distress. She’s going to hate me. She’s going to break up with me. She’ll never look at me the same way again.

When Leah came back from running errands, she was in a cheerful mood, humming softly as she entered the garage. Seeing Y/N standing near the car, she smiled, but the expression quickly faded as she noticed the tense posture of her girlfriend.

“Hey, babe,” Leah said with a warm smile, walking over to Y/N. “Everything okay?”

Y/N swallowed hard, feeling like her throat was closing up. She could already see the disappointment in Leah’s eyes, even though Leah hadn’t said anything yet. She could hear it in her own head, the sharp edge of anger Leah would surely direct her way.

Y/N took a shaky breath and spoke, her voice small. “Leah… I think I messed up.”

Leah’s smile faded into a look of concern. “What happened?” she asked gently, her eyes scanning Y/N’s face.

“I… I scratched your car,” Y/N muttered, voice barely above a whisper. “It’s… it’s pretty bad.”

Leah’s eyes flicked to the side of the car, inspecting the mark. Y/N immediately tensed up, bracing herself for the worst.

Leah didn’t say anything at first. Her brow furrowed slightly, but then, instead of the anger Y/N had feared, Leah took a deep breath and turned toward her, walking slowly.

Y/N couldn’t hold back anymore, and her words rushed out like a dam bursting. “I’m so sorry. I know you love this car. I didn’t mean to. I know it’s your baby, and I just… I didn’t think, and now it’s ruined, and—”

“Y/N,” Leah interrupted softly, taking Y/N’s hands in hers. “Stop.”

Y/N blinked, looking into Leah’s eyes, surprised by the calmness in her voice. Leah stepped closer, brushing a few strands of hair behind Y/N’s ear as she searched her eyes with a tenderness that took Y/N by surprise.

“Look at me, babe,” Leah said, her voice still soothing, yet firm. “I’m not mad. I’m not upset.”

“But it’s your car!” Y/N cried, still feeling the weight of guilt. “You love it, and now it’s… I scratched it, Leah. I’m such an idiot.”

Leah shook her head, a small, reassuring smile pulling at the corners of her lips. “It’s just a scratch, Y/N,” she said, her voice calm, almost amused by how worked up Y/N was. “It’s not the end of the world. I’m more worried about you.”

Y/N’s frown deepened, confused. “Worried about me?”

Leah nodded, taking a step closer, wrapping her arms around Y/N’s waist. “I can tell you’ve been stressed lately. You’ve had a lot on your mind, and I can see it. But you’re letting something small like this eat at you, and it’s breaking my heart to see you like this.”

Y/N’s shoulders slumped. “I just… I didn’t want you to be disappointed in me,” she admitted, her voice cracking. “I thought… I thought maybe you’d break up with me over something so stupid.”

Leah’s expression softened even more. She gently pulled Y/N into her arms, holding her tightly against her chest. “Don’t be silly,” Leah whispered, pressing a kiss to the top of Y/N’s head. “I could never break up with you over something like this. It’s just a car. We can fix it. But if you’re worried about anything, I want you to talk to me about it. Don’t bottle it up.”

Y/N melted into Leah’s embrace, feeling the comfort of her warmth, her steady presence. “I’m sorry, Leah. I didn’t mean to… I just freaked out.”

“Babe,” Leah murmured, brushing her fingers through Y/N’s hair, “I’m not mad at you. I’m just glad you’re okay. And I’m more concerned about your stress than I am about any scratch. We’ll fix it, together.”

Y/N looked up at her, her eyes slightly watery. “You’re really not mad?”

Leah smiled, leaning down to kiss Y/N softly on the lips, a gentle, lingering kiss. “Not at all. I love you, okay? And I love you more than anything, even if your parking skills need a little work,” she teased, trying to lighten the mood.

Y/N laughed quietly, wiping her eyes. “I love you, too. Thank you for being so… understanding. I don’t know why I thought you’d be so upset.”

“Because you’re a bit of a worrywart sometimes,” Leah grinned, her voice playful. “But that’s why you have me. To remind you that not everything is as big a deal as you make it out to be.”

Y/N smiled, finally feeling the weight lift off her shoulders. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Leah squeezed her tight, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “You’ll never have to find out. Now, how about we go inside, relax, and forget about the scratch for a bit? We have a whole afternoon ahead of us.”

Y/N nodded, the tension finally gone from her body. As they walked back into their apartment, Y/N felt a rush of love for Leah, for how she always knew just what to say, just how to make everything feel okay.

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The End.

[neuroticbookworm]

Love in the Big City Part 3: Go Yeong and Gyu-ho

Last week I talked about Go Yeong’s relationship with his Umma and concluded the piece with a declaration of hope that someday, he learns to love the people in his life differently than the love he received from his Umma. Which begs the question: how exactly does one learn to love, if the framework they were presented with in their childhood turns out to be flawed, or even downright destructive?

@twig-tea has already gone over the dynamics of Go Yeong and Gyu-ho’s relationship in her excellent post. She talks about the irritants, the mundanity, the way they both clearly want the best for each other, even when they’re fighting. And @lurkingshan mentioned how the show’s depiction of Yeong and Gyu-ho’s relationship felt so real, something we rarely see on television. I’ve always been a sucker for narratives that explore the difficulties faced by a couple after they get together, so reading and watching this section of the story was a treat for me.

I want to bring attention to a moment from the show that stuck with me for days after: the scene where Go Yeong types “Unlike our dramatic start, our relationship turned out to be average, even dull” as Gyu-ho puts fresh water bottles into the refrigerator. Gyu-ho gets up, silently looks at Go Yeong for a moment, turns off the light and goes to bed.

This hit me way harder than I thought it would, because we just *saw* what Go Yeong was typing, and we saw that Gyu-ho could see his screen. It felt so representative of their relationship; Go Yeong dissecting it with his pen as Gyu-ho is waiting for him, right there, to talk to him. Alexa, play right where you left me by Taylor Swift *fetches a bottle of wine to pair with the despair*

The hardest part of watching this relationship come to an abrupt end was that we could clearly see the both of them trying. I love that we saw Yeong ask T-aras for advice after his fight with Gyu-ho at the cafe. Going to your friends for help when you don’t know where you’re fucking up in a relationship is a great idea, and I’m happy that the show created this detail. When Yeong was pissed off about their laundry becoming smelly on the drying rack, Gyu-ho found a way to solve the problem, by drying their clothes at a laundromat.

I wanna talk more about Gyu-ho because he was one of the most earnest characters I’ve encountered in fiction. In the book, we only see him from Young’s narrative perspective. I love his depiction in the show because it decouples him from Young’s lens and forces us to engage with their conflicts without Young’s voice in our head. Gyu-ho pursues Yeong after their chaotic meeting at the bar. He does not jump into bed with Yeong immediately, but also openly expresses his desire when he reminds Yeong that they are on their third date. He does not hesitate to take space in Yeong’s life, barging in to fix his curtains, dragging him out from bed for a morning walk. When Yeong tells him about Kylie, he hugs him close and cries. And then chides him for being so cavalier about it (I love him so much, can y’all tell?). When they’re living together and bickering about chores and the minutiae of life, he does not become mean about it. He makes conscious efforts to spend time together, before and during their cohabitation. He stands his ground in a fight, but also reaches out for truce after the fight runs out of steam.

[If it feels like I am putting down Yeong and his behaviors when talking about Gyu-ho, I am not. These characters are complex and real, and therefore flawed. I am simply focusing on Gyu-ho in this post because @lurkingshan already wrote a defense for my boy Yeong.]

Gyu-ho understands early on in their relationship that Yeong is not comfortable communicating his fears, pain and shame, and that he masks them with aloofness. @wen-kexing-apologist wrote about how Gyu-ho turns away when Yeong smiles at him from across the aisle when they are traveling to the airport. He sees it for what it is, a refusal to be vulnerable with him. And that’s the moment I saw where they failed in their relationship.

I think we learn to love by loving, or at the very least, trying to love another person. Trial and error. Go Yeong was more vulnerable with Gyu-ho than he had been with any of his previous partners, and yet he couldn’t let him in enough to share the reason why he could not travel to China. He couldn’t see himself worthy of comparison with Gyu-ho’s potential career and financial growth from his stint in Shanghai. And Gyu-ho felt this distance from Yeong and chose to not push him on it. He bared his heart to Yeong, but did not possess the strength to force his way in whenever Yeong put up a wall. This problem was too big for both Yeong and Gyu-ho to solve individually, and they did not learn to problem-solve together in this relationship. Gyu-ho could not find a laundromat to solve this one, so he chose to walk away.

[opencommunion]

seeing a lot of notes suggesting volunteering with or even just donating to charities and that's nice and all, but it's not the kind of connection I'm asking you to make.

several people brought up food banks so I'll take that as an example. when I was hungry I dreaded trips to the food bank bc the volunteers there had attitudes ranging from awkward to sanctimonious to hostile. if you can bring a better vibe to that role, great! but bad vibes are somewhat baked into the western model of "charity." when there's an impassable wall between the Helper and the person being Helped, it's violently dehumanizing at worst, and alienating at best; it def doesn't contribute to anything I would call "community." I ended up preferring my local Food Not Bombs chapter to the food bank, because it was organized largely by other hungry people and the vibes were more like a potluck than a breadline. look for mutual aid efforts (emphasis on mutual, meaning the service recipients are also involved in organizing the service), and if nothing like that exists where you are, start something!

volunteering can be an ok way to meet people outside your bubble, depending on the org you work for, but you need to actually give people your phone number and be up for supporting them beyond the volunteer shifts you schedule at your personal convenience. host people on your couch, offer to pick up groceries, become someone your neighbor feels comfortable asking to babysit. make friends, or at least acquaintances who you actually keep in touch with. take a personal interest in lives different from your own; meet people where they are and ask directly how you can best support them. if you check out when you clock out you're not in community.

I'm not just talking to the most privileged white lgbts, either. a lot of you guys are also suffering, but not making connections with similarly suffering people beyond your race and age group. if you're food/housing insecure, disabled, targeted by the legal system, renting from a slumlord, etc, start organizing around that struggle. start a homeless union or tenant's union, a skill exchange, a street watch group, a needle exchange, a rideshare network. think about what would help you, find other people with similar needs, and see how you can mutually support each other. that's community baby!

protests can also be a place to get involved in broader community, if you show up in a consistent way and really invest yourself. in racial justice struggle there's a pattern where higher profile protests lead to an influx of lefty whites, whose numbers rapidly dwindle as they lose interest or energy. when you show up to protests, talk to the organizers and find out how you can get sustainably involved in their efforts. the work doesn't stop with marching; you can also help with outreach, jail and court support, food/water/mask distribution, copwatching, and all the other support work that makes it possible for protesters to show up and keep showing up. if you're a medical professional, look for a street medic bridge training; if you're a legal professional, look into movement lawyering (if you're in the US the National Lawyers Guild has chapters all over); if you're athletic look for a de-arrest training. we always need more people with varied skillsets and there's definitely a place for you.

are you a minor? in a small town (here's a zine for you)? I was when I started! disabled, socially anxious, autistic, paranoid? I am, and so are at least half the radicals I know! you might be surprised by how much more comfortable and accommodating a radical space can be compared to other social settings (this varies ofc — if the vibes are bad hit the bricks!) so try to take a leap of faith and see what happens. you gotta be willing to put yourself in some amount of discomfort to get into actual community, but that community will get you through the hardest times of your life. bonds formed solely around personal attraction (romantic or platonic) or shared hobbies are not necessarily going to hold up when you're in crisis.

I don't believe anything white tumblr queers say about the virtues of 'building community' when they've made it clear 'community' to them means 'me and my white friends.' what are you building? a polycule on a hobby farm?

[catbountry]

Re: your reblog: No idea why a lot of men don't want anything to do with a movement that was regularly comparing them to bowls of poisoned M&Ms. It'll forever be a mystery

Oh fuck, that fucking post.

Like, look. I understand the importance of communicating why women might be intimidated by men. But that was such a bad comparison. I remember it being circulated by the kinds of people I was hanging out with who would wind up becoming increasingly right-wing, and it felt like every single time there was some sort of poorly articulated point about the fear that gets ingrained into us, it would just push these guys further and further away. This is purely anecdotal, but I was in a discussion with some guys in a server who said that they'd talked with multiple guys who were just kind of vaguely anti-woke not because of any deeply held principles, but because someone on the left was mean to them or disparaged them. In nerd spaces especially, these are guys who were likely already ostracized in school for being weird and are looking for, well, a safe space. And when perceived outsiders (other nerds who are demographically different from them) come in and try and make a space more inclusive, make it safer, and call anybody who objects a bad person... there's a really big social element to that. Like yeah, there's probably misogyny or racism or homophobia that could be unpacked, but those are things you can unlearn. And the best way for these guys to unlearn these behaviors is just through contact with people who are different from them with whom they have positive experiences. It's not the whole process, mind, but it's a good first step. And simply telling someone off for being bad when they might not even fully understand why it is that they have objections will succeed in getting rid of those guys from your spaces, but where do they go from there? Not the diverse and inclusive spaces we would hope they'd go, that's for fuckin' sure.

I don't want to say that it's our jobs to be super nice to these guys all the time, because you know what? Yeah, some of them do suck, as many people of all walks of life do. They won't change their minds because they see no reason to do so. But if you have the energy to try and level with these guys and just say things in a way that isn't accusatory and is just matter-of-fact, it works better. They're more likely to see you as a whole-ass person if you're willing to engage with them as a whole-ass person. It's exhausting, and I'm not the best at it, but goddammit, I've tried, with varying results. Even if they come in swinging, they can be tripped up by a simple "why would you say that?" or "I don't get it." Challenging them in a way that's not accusatory so much as it is asking them to self-reflect. Why would you say that? Why is that offensive joke funny? Why do you think it's an appropriate thing to say to people you barely even know?

I'm not one of those people that denies the existence of the male loneliness epidemic, though I certainly do think loneliness is up with everybody, not just men. I think neuroatypical men are particularly vulnerable; people with autism aren't any more likely than NT people to believe conspiracy theories, but I definitely found myself taking the word of people who I was friendly with when they perpetuated misinformation to me about shit like AGP or ROGD because why would they lie to me? Looking back, there were definitely people who were racist in a more lowkey way that wasn't immediately detectable by me because I couldn't hear the dogwhistles. But just by virtue of being a enby in predominately queer social circles, I have people around me that were able to challenge these views and help pull me away from these ideas (and help me realize that my gender is more "woman?" rather than just "woman"). These friends allowed me to realize just how stupid they actually were. There's a lot of guys, particular straight guys, who just do not have that in their lives. The bigots are always recruiting and there's nothing they love more than disenfranchised young men who are full of misdirected anger and resentment, especially ones who might be psychologically or emotionally vulnerable and incredibly insecure about it. It's a really hard mindset to get out of, particularly when your views get more extreme, and it's also something you have to actually want to change. Admitting you've been played for a sucker by people with agendas and who don't actually give a shit about you is hard. Nobody wants to admit when they've been had.

There's always a lot of resistance whenever anybody floats the idea that hey, maybe we shouldn't automatically assume these guys are assholes when we encounter them; they might just be ignorant, and you can talk to people who are ignorant without coming across as condescending or sanctimonious. Some of them might be assholes but let them show themselves first before deciding that you can't deal with them. But men are like most people; they don't want to see themselves as fundamentally bad or wicked. Nor should they. I know a lot of women who have been hurt by men; shit, I was hurt by the same man over and over and over again and was in denial about it for decades, and it was only after leaving him that I realized just how absolutely fucked he was as a person, and how he'd never have any incentive to change, even when faced with the consequences of his incredibly selfish actions. I tried so fucking hard to get him to improve only to be met with the same rote excuses for why he couldn't, and I kept giving him grace he did not earn. But also I was trying for 21 years. But his problems are his own. Not every man is going to be like him. I've known men who are, deep down, decent people, but they pick up shitty ideas that linger around them like a stinkcloud. The good news about stinkclouds, though? You can take a shower and smell better. You do it regularly enough, you won't stink no more. It's not an immutable trait. But it definitely helps to not hang around other guys who cluster and form a larger stinkcloud. You gotta wash your ass, if you must, as Del the Funky Homosapien once said.

Fellas, you are not a poisoned bowl of M&Ms. You might just be kinda smelly and in need of a bath. You can't remove the poison from those M&Ms, but you can clean up and become the best version of yourself. A lot of us have the stink of a lot of cultural ideas we've been fed without question, and you're not a bad person for having thought these things one time; it's a long process trying to challenge and prune these ideas. But you might be a bad person if somebody tries to reach out to you and you go and roll around in pig shit and declare how much you love being stinky, while also being upset that girls don't want to talk to you on account of the stink... unless they are taught from a young age to ignore it, or they also want to just socially isolate themselves by diving headfirst into the Bog of Eternal Stench. Those women do certainly exist, but they're not going to bring out the best in you, you know?

It's not an easy process, and it's not easy to reach out to people and have the psychological wherewithal to be able to handle some potentially wild shit. But if you're the kind of person who believes in rehabilitation in the justice system, then you should be able to extend that to people who just have some really shitty ideas that they just internalized without question who might just need to hear a perspective that they haven't heard before. Not everybody can do it, but for those who can? Try. You might help keep somebody from quoting crime or suicide statistics to strangers online in an attempt to feel some semblance of power above those they see below them in the societal hierarchy. You can't force change, but you might be able to nudge them in the right direction.

I think that's the best anybody can do. Try to be as kind as patient as you can, but don't take any shit, either. Remain firm in your principles. Remove yourself if you have to. But at least try, even when it's hard, because like it or not, we need as many of these guys on our side as possible of we want to affect the kind of change we want to see in the world.

... And that's all I have to say about that.

[sequinsmile-x]

Instincts

Five times Emily doesn't yell at her mother-in-law, and one time she does.

Part 1/6

-x-

Hi besties,

Hope you are all doing as okay as possible <3

Usually, I do these 5+1 fics as a one shot but I'm doing it a little differently this time and this will be a multi chapter.

The final chapter, the one time Emily does yell, will be based on a prompt I received!

As always, let me know what you think!

-x-

Warnings: none for this chapter, pregnancy in later chapters

Words: 2.9k

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

The first time it happens, she doesn’t even get to meet Caroline Hotchner. 

It starts a few days before, when she can tell Aaron is nervous the moment he lets her into his apartment. She smiles curiously at her boyfriend as she steps past him, her lips catching his cheek as his hand skims her waist before he takes her bag from her, hooking it over his shoulder, “Waiting for me in the doorway kind of makes me having a key pointless.” 

He chuckles, but it’s not the laugh she loves. It doesn’t come from his chest, doesn’t light up the space between them like it usually does, and it makes concern spark low in her gut. She furrows her brow as he closes the door, his focus on locking it behind them and setting the alarm. 

“Sorry, sweetheart,” he says, smiling when he turns to look at her, “I was just excited to see you.”

Emily hums, narrowing her eyes at him as she crosses her arms over her chest, desperately trying to read him - to see what had changed since she’d left him in his office at work just a few hours ago. She’d only gone back to her place to get more clothes. Her apartment was just a place where she kept her things these days because home was wherever Aaron and Jack were. 

She’d considered breaking her lease and just moving in with Aaron. All of their friends made fun of them for it, playful smiles on their faces when they teased her for the fact she still had an exit strategy. It would upset her if she knew Aaron thought that way too, but she knew he didn’t, his defence of her always fierce even in the face of joking from their friends. The truth was, something that they were keeping between the two of them for now, that they recently started to look at a place to buy together. She loved sitting in bed with Aaron, her back against his chest, his legs bracketing hers and his chin on her shoulder whilst they looked through listings together. Their favourites either bookmarked on her laptop or circled in the paper. She hated moving, it reminded her too much of her childhood, so she didn’t want to do it twice in quick succession. So for now, she’d continue to occasionally go to her place to pick up some things, content to live in this in-between stage before she finally had everything she’d ever wanted. A home made of brick and mortar. A home made of the man she loves and the boy she loves as her own. 

It was a future she was looking forward to. One with him and Jack and whoever else might come along too - the idea of having more children with him enough to make her giddy. 

“I only went home to get some clothes, honey,” she says, trying to pull a smile out of him, the smile that belonged to her. His smile doesn’t reach his eyes, his energy still nervous, and she sighs, “What’s going on?” 

He clears his throat and puts her bag on his couch, “My mother called.” 

She raises her eyebrows, her arms falling to her side, “Oh.” 

His relationship with his mother was tense at best. They only spoke now and again, they exchanged phone calls on birthdays and holidays and occasionally sent each other gifts. Emily had never met her, but she’d overheard them talking on the phone, her name thrown around like confetti by her boyfriend, his smile always soft just at the mention of her. 

“Yeah,” he says, walking towards her, his hands on her hips, “She’s in town.” 

Emily nods, her eyebrows raising even further, already knowing where this was going, “Oh.” 

“And she wants to meet you,” he says, squeezing her waist when she opens her mouth again, a third oh dying on her tongue, “Look, if you don’t want to meet her, I understand. I know my relationship with her is hard, and that you probably don’t have a lot of good feelings about her because of that-”

“Honey-” she says, finally breaking out of the slight stupor she’d fallen into. She smiles and cups his cheek, “You’re rambling. You don’t ramble,” she runs her thumb back and forth over his jaw, “It’s cute,” she smiles when he turns his head to kiss her palm,  “Of course, I’ll meet her.”

The relief in his eyes is palpable, and she sees the tension in his shoulders loosen, “Really?” 

She nods and leans forward to kiss him, her lips stamped against his, “Really,” she says, her nerves dampened a little by the relieved look on his face, the look in his eyes that makes him look like the little boy who never quite stopped looking for his mother’s approval, “She’ll be my mother-in-law one day,” she says, her arms snaking around his neck as he pulls her closer, “It would be awkward if the first time I met her is the wedding.” 

He chuckles, leaning in to kiss her, putting all of his love into it. He tightens his grip on her hips so he doesn’t run to the bedroom to grab the ring he’d hidden in his sock drawer, not wanting to ruin his very meticulously planned proposal, “I love you.” 

“I love you too,” she says, “So, when are we going to meet her? Are you going to invite her here?” 

“No,” he says, sounding more sure than he had since she’d walked through the door, and it makes her smile, “I learnt a long time ago a mutual ground is probably the right call. She likes Italian food. That new place opened up downtown but it’s almost impossible to get in.” 

She shakes her head, carding her fingers through his hair, “Impossible if you’re not the daughter of a well-respected US Ambassador,” she says, smiling at him, “If the Prentiss name is good for one thing in DC, it’s for getting reservations.” 

He sighs, shaking his head, knowing any favour she asked for from her mother never came for free, “Em, I know how difficult your mom can be, you don’t have to-”

“Hey, what good are my mommy issues if I can’t use them to help you with yours,” she says, leaning in to kiss him, “I’ll call my mom, she’ll get her assistant to get us a table and then she’ll passive-aggressively berate my life choices for 10 to 20 minutes. And you can pay me back in sexual favours.” 

He chuckles and kisses her before leaning his forehead against hers, “Deal.” 

___

She’s able to focus on his anxiety instead of her own. 

If she didn’t know him so well, it would concern her. Make her think that he was worried about her meeting his mother and not the other way around. There was no room for her to even consider that he was embarrassed by her, that he was anything less than proud to call her his. All the nervousness he was feeling, the way he was squeezing her knee like it was a stress ball, was all about his mother. The women he’d come from but couldn’t be more different than. 

If there was one thing Emily understood, it was that feeling. 

She places her hand over his on her knee as he parks up and she smiles, “I’d ask if you’re okay, but I think if you squeeze my knee any tighter the joint might pop,” she says, and he lets go. She grabs his hand before he can take it away, linking their fingers together and cutting him off so he doesn’t apologise, “It’s okay, honey. It’s dinner. We’ll eat, we’ll make conversation with your mother. And then we can go home and have sex.” 

He chuckles and tugs their joint hands towards him and kisses her knuckles, “Why does it feel like our roles have been reserved here?” 

She smiles, “Think about it this way,” she says, leaning across the centre console to kiss his cheek, “Your mom lives five states away. We don’t have to see her that often.” 

He laughs, “I’m sure I should be assuring you everything will be okay,” he shakes his head at himself, “You’re the one meeting her. I don’t want to paint a bad picture of her. She’s not a bad person. She had a bad set of circumstances. My father was…a bad person and a bad father. She’s not a bad person, but she…” 

“Wasn’t a very good mother,” she finishes for him, and he sighs and nods as she flashes a half smile at him, “I’m familiar with the concept,” she unhooks her seatbelt so she can turn to face him, her smile soft as she runs her fingers through his hair, “We can just go home you know. We can turn around. Jack is with Jess tonight so we could just get in the tub. Hang out. You could repay me for everything I went through for our cancelled reservation.”

He shakes his head and kisses her knuckles again, “No. I want her to meet you. To meet the woman I love,” he smiles, “You’re going to be my wife one day. The mother of my kids,” his smile gets wider when she blushes, “You should meet my mother.” 

She nods and kisses him, “In that case, we should get going. Otherwise, we’ll be late,” she turns to open her door but he stops her, and she turns to look at him, “You okay?” 

“I need you to promise me something.” 

“Anything, you know that.” 

“You know how you made me promise to not step in if I think your mom goes too far?” He asks, and she nods, her lips pressed together as she sighs, already knowing where he is going, “I need you to make me the same promise.” 

She clears her throat, “Is she going to make me wish I hadn’t made this promise?” 

“Probably.” 

She chuckles, “At least you’re honest,” she huffs out a breath, “Well, I’ve had over 40 years of experience dealing with my mother,” she winks at him, “I can handle one night with yours,” she’s grateful to get a smile out of him, “It will be okay, honey.” 

He holds her hand the moment they are out of the car, his palm warm against hers as they link their fingers together. She’d always loved holding his hand, found a comfort in it that she knew he found too. In the moments when she let herself be romantic about it, she tells herself they were made for each other. That the reason her hand fits so well in his, the reason their fingers link together perfectly, is because they were made with each other in mind. 

His phone rings and he pulls it from his pocket, frowning as he turns it to show her, the word Mom flashing across the screen. They come to a stop on the sidewalk, stepping out of the way of other people, and he answers. 

“Mom, hi, are you at the restaurant already, we’re just…” he drifts off, and Emily can hear the voice of the woman at the end of the phone, but not what she’s saying, “Oh, I see,” he says, looking at Emily, his lips pressed together and his eyes drifting shut, “I thought you wanted to meet Emily,” he adds, and she clenches her jaw as she runs her thumb back and forth over the heel of his hand, “Well, yeah you can do that next time you’re in town. Or maybe we’ll come and see you.” 

She can hear the disappointment in his voice, can see the irritation in his eyes, in the way he’s holding himself, and she gets as close as she can to him to provide the comfort he’d never ask for. She rests her head on his shoulder, and the extra height her heels give her means he can rest his cheek on top of her head as he finishes the call with his mom, exchanging goodbyes and see you soons in a way that’s so polite it makes her teeth ache. After he hangs up they stand in silence, still in their strange embrace with her head on his shoulder and both of her hands wrapped around one of his. 

“She’s not coming?” She asks, even though she knows the answer, and she looks up at him. He shakes his head and clears his throat. 

“No. She’s not.” 

“Did she say why?” 

“She bumped into an old friend. Went for dinner with her instead.” 

She scoffs, “Instead of meeting up with her son?” She clenches her jaw, “Want me to call her back? I can give her a…” she drifts off when he raises his eyebrow at her, a hint of amusement in his smile, “Right. My promise. Does it count even if I haven’t met her yet?” 

He chuckles wryly and kisses her forehead, “I’d say especially then,” he kisses her again, “I’m sorry, sweetheart.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” she assures him, “It’s not your fault,” she squeezes his hand and hates the look in his eyes when they meet hers. He looks like a lost little boy, entirely too much like Jack, and it makes her want to steal his phone when he’s not looking and break her promise only minutes after she made it. She knows she won’t though, bound by a promise they’d now made each other about their mothers respectively, and she knew how annoyed and hurt she’d be if their roles were reversed, “Want to go home?” 

He shakes his head, “No, Em. You went to a lot of effort to get this table-”

“Honey, I don’t care,” she says, cupping his cheek, “I can handle my mother if she says anything about us not using the reservation. I’m worried about you,” she strokes her thumb back and forth over his cheek, “If you want to go in we can, or we can grab a pizza on our way home and I’ll eat in my underwear to try and cheer you up.” 

He laughs, the sound more real this time, more hers, and he smiles at her, “I do like the sound of the second option.”

“I know my audience,” she hums and leans forward, stamping her lips against his before she rests her forehead against his, “Home?” 

He nods, blowing out a slow breath, “Home.” 

She kisses him one more time before she steps back enough for them to walk to the car, both of her hands still wrapped around one of his, “I’m sorry your mom did this, Aaron.” 

He sighs and unlocks the car, “Me too. I was looking forward to the two of you meeting.” 

She slips in between him and the side of the car before he can open the door for her, “I know,” she says, running her fingers through his hair, “And I was looking forward to meeting her too. Despite…everything, she still gave the world you. And that’s something I want to thank her for,” she says, worry sparking in her chest again when he tightens his hold on her, something she can’t name flashing in his eyes, “Baby, what is it?” 

Aaron shakes his head, “It’s nothing.” 

“You can tell me,” she says, reaching out for his hand, “You know that.”

He blows out a breath, “I guess I just wanted her to meet you before we start the next stage of everything. Not because I feel like I need her approval or anything. But she’s my mom,” he smiles sadly, “It would nice if she cared enough to meet the woman I’ve told her I’m going to marry one day soon.” 

It makes her angry again. The heat of it washing over her in a way she knows has her gripping his hand a little too tight, her knuckles briefly paper white before she lets go, swallowing the fury back down because it’s not what he needs from her. 

Not today. 

Despite everything, the mere mention of their still hypothetical wedding makes her smile and she squeezes his hand, “I understand that, but if she misses out on anything it’s on her. Not you. Okay?” 

He nods, “Okay.” 

She leans forward and kisses him, “Now,” she says, kissing him again, “Pizza. Then home.” 

“And you in your underwear,” he says, smiling as he steps away so he can open the car door for her, “I seem to remember that being part of the deal.” 

“A deal is a deal,” she says, winking at him as he closes her car door once she’s climbed in. She’s alone in the car for a matter of seconds before he joins her, the key in the ignition as soon as his door is shut. “I just thought of something.” 

He looks over and sees the vague look of horror on her face, the way she scrunches her nose up ever so slightly, “What, sweetheart?” 

“One day our mothers are going to have to meet.” 

[nightwonder7]

NORTON GHOST AU.. NORTALICE PLESSS??

Okay I'll indulge fghdsjfkgsjka

Norton would be one of the ghosts who'd be more pessimistic about Alice at first. He had no faith in her solving their predicament and just wanted her to go away so they could be left in peace. And when the other ghosts agree to ask for her help (he was against this), he became reticent and tried to avoid her.

At first Alice respected his wishes of wanting to be left alone, but she couldn't help but wonder if there was something she had done to upset him because of the way he acted towards her. She wanted to resolve any issues that may be between them as they are practically living together for an undetermined amount of time. Otherwise things will just be uncomfortable all around. Unfortunately, Norton is one of the more stubborn ghosts and would act cold towards her and push her away. Still, Alice is curious about Norton. She doesn't know exactly why, but something about him seemed enticing in a way. Perhaps she could sense there was something more to him than this brick wall he presented as.

Norton could often be found outside alone in the forest near by or in the court yard. He seemed to prefer the open sky over the enclosed spaces in the manor. While outside he would just wander around, like he is searching for something, inspecting the rocks on the ground. Or he would lie sprawled out on the grass and stare at the sky. Alice had on several occasions tried to approach Norton when she sees him out and about alone, but as soon as she closes in on him, he would just give her this dead look and vanish before her eyes.

Once it becomes apparent that each ghost needs to resolve their trauma in order to lift the curse, they have no choice but to work together, much to Norton's dismay. He did NOT budge at first and tried avoiding her even more. I can picture this scenario where Alice keeps finding him again and again after he vanishes whenever she approaches him, and he becomes increasingly frustrated that she seems to know where he is every time (she had taken a mental note of all the spots he frequents and used that to track him down). It becomes this slow, wild chase until Norton is fed and tells her to leave him the heck alone. But Alice is insistent; working through this together will make it easier for the both of them. It needs to be done.

Norton begrudgingly agrees at last, and the two of them finally sit down to talk. He is uncooperative with her and gives her super vague, short and snarky answers to her inquiries. After hours of this, Alice finally has enough. "Please, Norton! I'm begging you!" "What you want me to do?" "Give me more to work with, for a start." "That's all I've got." "I don't believe that for a second. There's more to your story. The records-" "Then use those! Everything you need to know is already there." "Firstly, the records don't have the full picture. Secondly, you're the one who needs to remember, not me. That's why I need you to walk me through-" "You don't need anything!" "... I'm trying to help you. Why won't you let me?" "I never want your help to begin with!" "This isn't only about you, Norton. Everyone's affected by this entangled mess. Take some responsibility, please. I know this is hard for you. I want to understand, I really do. But you have to help me to do so." "..." "Maybe I'm not the right person for this, after all."

Alice would then leave Norton alone while the others berate him for ruining their chance of getting out of this place. He acts like he doesn't care, but deep down he feels really bad about it all. He wanted her off his back, and now that he finally got what he wanted, he wasn't so sure anymore. Especially seeing Alice's spirit so broken. While he tries to think of a way to rectify things, he finds Alice one night, sitting in the parlor in her night gown and staring out the window. She doesn't acknowledge him as he hesitantly approaches her and sits down next to her. Before he manages to say anything, she begins to share a personal memory with him without quite knowing why. Maybe it is her lack of sleep? Or her feeling of hopelessness. The memory is about how she was unable to help her parents when she was young, and that she thinks she is the reason why they died. She spent all her life as a journalist trying to help others in order to repent for this. But it looks like she is still as useless and unable to help others, in her words.

Norton listens intently and starts reflecting more over Alice and the time spent with her. He realises that she is nothing like what he thought she was. She might be just as broken as the rest of them, but she has a heart of gold, and she is honest and genuine; a breed of people he was not used to having around in his life and death. He reassures her that she is nothing of what she said she was, and that he was wrong about her. Slowly he opens up as well. Deep down he actually wants help, but is afraid to face it. She in turn reassures him that he doesn't have to face it alone and that she will help in every way she can. He just needs to be open for it.

They agree to try again; really try this time. But for the rest of the night, they just talk about everything and nothing. They talk until Alice falls asleep on the sofa. Norton stays with her for a while longer, studying her features in silence. He wished he could drape a blanket over her so she wouldn't be cold. He then beats himself up for even entertaining the idea that she is pretty. Eventually he leaves her in peace, but doesn't stray far away. They both feel better after this, and from there on out, their bond becomes stronger slowly over time.

[niamhthefae]

i 1000% agree. i just want to add onto this with some personal experience.

i love history and museums,exhibitions and historical sites are some of my favorite places to be. However, i'd much rather see artefacts and ask an actual person questions than watch some videos and listen to an audio tour. it's important to know that i'm neurodivergent and occasionally i have audio processing issues, so if i go somewhere and the entire thing is just an audio tour i can miss out on information. with an actual person i can ask them to repeat something or reword a question or go into a bit more detail on something. i went to a viking centre in york once that was mostly some wax figures and an audio thing as you go around, i didn't get much enjoyment from that. an example of this that was pretty good was this one Roman museum in chester where the whole thing has people in there and a guy talking you around and answering any questions and showing you things. also in helmshore textile museum there are things you can look at and read on your own, or you can be taken around and shown the machinery and displays by a real person who will answer questions and bring you into things (i got told that at my age i would have been working 7 machines on my own, i was about 13 at the time i think? i had a bit of a fixation on dress history)

also, when there are big displays that take up the whole space it can be really horrible. for example: the imperial war museum in manchester features a big display in the middle of the room with lots of loud noises. as someone who really struggles with noise it wasn't exactly ideal but i wanted to get all the info, so i had to walk around with my hands pressed to my ears, trying to ignore the sounds. these can be okay if you put it in a certain room so that people who are still making their way around the actual museum part can do so, without having to deal with loud noises and changes in lighting.

call me old-fashioned but I think visitors to historical sites have the right to a fully analogue experience of the building if they want it

tech is great for accessibility, and to provide supplemental info for self-guided places. I don't mean an experience without seeing OTHER PEOPLE use their phones, a kiosk, an iPad, etc. that would be unfair to people who needed the accessibility features. just that those things should be opt-in

screens at low angles on stands so they're only visible if you actively walk up to them. iPads, as previously mentioned. audio tours accessible on your phone, but with a request to please only use them with earbuds/headphones. real human staff one can talk to.

NOT screens positioned upright on walls, timed light/sound shows that fill the whole space, etc.

I'm there to see a historical building I can't see anywhere else, in real physical space. not to look at a screen or a projection unless I make that choice, to answer a specific question or similar. and I should be able to have that experience of the site if I want to

[muzzlemouths]

Apologies if this has been asked already, but is there any chance we might get to see what those conversations between sun and moon were like? I just started reading (Don't) Fear the Reaper and now that I know they talk when Sun is quiet, I can't help but wonder what's being said.

When I eventually get around to writing the follow-up fic (which will explore the story from Sun's pov) you'll get to see each and every conversation they had!

Since I'm not sure when that will be (and I have a rough version of what it might look like already written up in my notes) I'll go ahead and drop it here for you to chew on in the meantime :3

This conversation occurs in their personal cabin when y/n first finds out about Moon's existence. I've left the original lines in for context, but they'll be indented so you know what is and isn't internal.

“We?” You watch with growing curiosity as he freezes in place and winces, like he’s just been caught in a lie.

“Sun—”

“I know, I know.”

“Fix it.”

There it is, again. That distant expression like his mind is somewhere else entirely. You aren’t sure if robots are capable of internal monologue, but if they are, his must be pretty intense for the absolutely guilty expression he wears before smothering it with another mocked up smile.  “Me and…Moon,” he answers, voice pitifully small. 

“What are you doing?”

“It’s better to be honest, isn’t it? They’re going to find out eventually.”

“No. No. You’re going to say something you shouldn’t.”

“I can handle myself in a conversation just fine, thank you very much. I have so fa—”

“You don’t know when to shut up.”

His smile falters, eyes panicked like a child being scolded.

Moon. You recognize the name from the conversation with Oscar earlier, how scared he had looked from the mere mention of it. You aren’t entirely sure how to navigate this situation, but if this Moon has everyone up in arms, there must be a good reason for it, right? “Is he…dangerous?” 

“....Well? Am I?”

“Oh, now you want me to talk?”

“Just thought they should know all the grisly details, since you seem keen on being truthful.”

Sun hesitates to answer. He bides his time by tending to your ankle, instead. Carefully drawing your shoe away like a reverse cinderella, then gently turning your ankle in all directions to get a feel for the damage. 

“You’re not being fair.”

“Go on, tell them.”

“I don’t think that’s a good ide—”

“Tell them how I butchered her. How I didn’t stop until her pulse flickered under my hand.”

“Moon—”

“Tell them how much I regret letting go.”

“I—”

“Tell them how often we think about her blood caking our palms. How relieving it felt to finally—”

“It doesn’t feel broken,” he tells you. 

“Don’t ignore me.”

“I think you might have just twisted it. Should be in tip-top shape by morning!” He faces you with that telltale smile once more, only for it to droop significantly when you don’t immediately mirror his relief. It’s not the answer you’re waiting for. 

“Hypocrite.” Moon snarls. “Cornered yourself. Now you’re the animal stuck in a trap.”

“Little rabbit…” he sighs. “You are very, very lucky, you know. This could have been much worse.”

Pebbles climb in your throat, brought on by his words. Each bigger than the last and taking up space where you need to breathe. They rattle with every inhale, collecting in great heaps the longer he fits you with that emotionless stare. You don’t think he’s referring to your ankle, anymore.

“Cruel. Warning a rabbit with one foot already in a trap.”

“They’re smarter than you think.”

“It’s too late to save them.”

“...I know.”

“Then why bother?”

A twig snaps just outside the door, relieving you of his piercing gaze as his neck wrenches to follow it. Just a squirrel.  “Sun, I—” “Anyone can be dangerous,” he whispers, eyes still zeroed in on the animal.

“Caaareful.”

“I told you, it’s better to be honest," Sun's optics twitch ever briefly. "They ought to know it isn’t you they should fear.”

[satureja13]

A sad mermaid walked past a bar. The werewolf bartender called to him: "Hey, why so sad? Come on in and have a drink. This pretty vampire here is going to fill us all in with the latest news from the toys front!" The pretty vampire hissed: "Shut up!"

(Somehow or other it shall have occurred a similar way ^^')

But Ji Ho stepped in Moogie's Bar nonetheless, needing some advice after his and Vlad's weird date. Ji Ho: "Do you think he still loves me after we removed the spell? He's as cold and distanced as always." Saiwa: "Vlad didn't have the ideal upbringing. He is a bastard and no one ever really cared for him until he met Leander and Wesley. We all know how that went. Then he met you and his whole world got shaken. For the first time he got a glimpse on how real love felt. But he couldn't have you. Now, that he finally can, he doesn't know what to do. But nothing ever changed his undying love for you. You know it, the Bond doesn't lie." Ji Ho: "But how does he keep all his feelings at bay then? Since I woke up at Verdantis and all those emotions hit me, I struggle to act 'normal'. It's so overwhelming. I want him so much it hurts. How am I supposed to barrel that all up inside?" They all sighed in unison.

Jack: "I guess it was the safest for him to not show his feelings. Just like you, in a way. To not hurt you, scare you and keep you save - and to prevent him from getting hurt himself. You'll have to tempt him like a shy deer I fear ^^' " Ji Ho: "Hmmm..."

And while Ji Ho mulled over on how to tempt oh so shy Vlad out of his hide, Jack and Sai talked about their relationships and came to terms that they should put some more effort in them. And change a few things - and themselves. Sai: "Don't worry, Ji Ho. We're all struggling, hm? Take baby steps. The road to change is stony, slow and painful. And sometimes you don't move forward at all. Look at me." Ji Ho looked at Sai.

Until Jack howled out: "Aouw, come on! Now don't you say that! The Sai from a few weeks ago would have complained and whined about having to be the captain again of this crazy mission and leading a bunch of weirdos through the vastness of space in this junkyard of a ship. And even a few days ago you'd all acted like Captain Ahab about hunting down Moby Dick aka Tiny Can. And now you're all in to rescue a man you don't even know to bring him back to his kids. You have changed. And I know you hate to admit it, but Tiny Can helped you to." Sai laughed: "And here I thought you were the captain ^^' " But Jack was right... he has changed and he's going to take a strong grip to the armrests of that captain's chair to fulfill their mission and he's going to start working towards taking an even stronger grip on his attempts to finally earn Jeb's wand!

(I wonder if that huge AC - permeating the air with Romantium behind their backs - has an influence on their decisions?)

And since they're talking relationships and changes, that faithful day-out with Greg came to Jack's mind. Where he'd told him that relationships are hard work. And that he is stronger than he thinks he is. That was long before he even entered the Therapy Game. And yes, he now was way more stronger then he had been then. Stronger than ever. He, too, changed a lot. He survived his own (ingame) death and Lou cheating on him with Caleb (kind of), his coma, the cowplants, Vlad's death, Greg snatching his beloved Noxee from him, the break-up with Kiyoshi and months of searing pain and whatever else! He's strong enough - and he'll survive giving his and Kiyoshi's love a second chance too. He's going to fight for it, because he is the Super Soldier! (And a werewolf - after all ;)

It was getting late and Ji Ho returned to their quarters. And when heading to the bathroom, he found Vlad - in his single bed again. He didn't even change clothes or bothered to put a blanket over him...

He must have sensed Ji Ho. "You're here..." Vlad murmured in his sleep and sighed contently. "Always." Ji Ho whispered. He's going to throw that bed in the trash compactor by tomorrow and Vlad is going to have to deal with sleeping in their bed from now on.

'Oh no, darling No wind, no rain Or winter's cold can stop me, baby, na na, baby 'Cause you are my goal If you're ever in trouble I'll be there on the double Just send for me, oh, baby, ha

My love is alive (woo) Way down in my heart Although we are miles apart If you ever need a helping hand I'll be there on the double Just as fast as I can Don't you know that there

Ain't no mountain high enough Ain't no valley low enough Ain't no river wide enough To keep me from getting to you, babe'

Ain't no Mountain high enough - Marvin Gaye & Tammi Terrell Another highlight from the Awesome Mix Vol 1 (OST from Guardians of the Galaxy 1)

From the Beginning 🔱 Underwater Love 🔱 Latest

Current Chapter: 'Piglets in Space' ▶️ here Last Chapter: 'Here comes the Sun' from the beginning ▶️ here

📚 Previous Chapters: Chapters: 1-6 ~ 7-12 ~ 13-16 ~ 23-29

[witchyleehibernates]

Hiya!! I was looking at your au list and saw one about Ponyboy being younger than he is in the canon, and I’m REALLY interested in that!

I just wanted to know, how do you think that would change the way the gang, his brothers would see him? Like how would that change their dynamics?

Also how much younger would he be?

I hope you don’t mind me asking, I just love this au idea and I’m real interested! (Btw I read some of the other aus you’ve made and OMG you’re so amazing! I love them 🩵)

Yess!!!! My inbox is open for a reason! for all AUs! and questions! and headcanons!

I sort of imagine that Ponyboy is about 4 years younger than in canon, and he's a little clingy to his brothers. Especially Darry, though he is often found at Sodapop's side on darker or harder to handle days.

The gang would absolutely be more protective and worried about Ponyboy whenever he is by himself, and he's obviously not in highschool he's more late elementary school / early middle school.

Johnny is more 'big brother' to Ponyboy than canon (it's more emphasized), and he lets Ponyboy talk about all these books and movies, and the sunsets even more than in canon (Ponyboy still gets jumped, and Johnny freaks the fuck out a little bit more).

He's a little more childish, he lashes out a bit more when things don't make sense, and he absolutely doens't like Steve but more of a "why do you keep taking my brother from me" dislike rather than a genuine beefing with the other that Ponyboy hints at in canon. Steve also cannot bring himself to dislike that Ponyboy is so clingy with Sodapop, because he knows about Ponyboy's nightmares.

Which! Ponyboy's nightmares are a worse than canon. He'll have nights he wakes up screaming, and nights that he wakes up and just... stares. He'll space out and he will absolutely not respond no matter what is happening around him, but he is sitting up and breathing, and it's obvious he can hear you, he's just not responding. It's also obvious whenever he's had a night of nightmares (anywhere between 1 to 3 a night), because he'll be really quiet and sleepy the day after. (He also clings to Darry more, and he genuinely cries whenever Sodapop has to go to work.

Dally isn't as 'cold' or 'mean' to Ponyboy, but he still intimidates Ponyboy with out he interacts with others. Ponyboy gets more Johnny treatment than in canon! That's how I think about it, where Ponyboy could say just about anything and Dally wouldn't care, and Dally gets Ponyboy little things that he thinks Pony will like!

Two-Bit likes to watch Ponyboy on days where he decides to skip (Darry doens't like it but he also does because it means Ponyboy isn't home alone on days he's out of school or sick), and they like to play a whole bunch of games and they go out and 'cause mischief' (they go to the park and have fun and they go and buy art supplies because Pony still adores art, and they like to go hiking, which Darry doesn't know about the hiking).

This... got a little long, but if anyone wants to know more please please ask questions!! I love thinking about this au!!

[werevampiwolf]

Also, people can change from how they were raised. My parents are low-key white supremacists (low-key in that they'd say they weren't if you asked, but if you read them some talking points with no context, they'd agree with them). Consequently, I had to unlearn a lot of things once I got old enough to understand what was going on (and was allowed to access outside information, because I was kept extremely sheltered and isolated for most of my childhood). I did need people to give me some level of patience and space to possibly mess up as I learned. I'm not talking about saying the N-word or something; that's not something I ever liked. I'm talking like "wow, you're really pretty for a [insert thing here] girl" or asking to touch someone's 4C hair. I wasn't taught as a small child that that was rude, and was actually taught that things that were a lot more "macro" than microagressions were okay, so I had to learn where the line is. I like to think that I would have still powered through in learning not to be how I was raised if people were constantly jumping down my throat for every little thing, even though I was trying my best, but I can't actually say that for sure. I'm only human, after all, and I was just a teenager at that.

(I'm not exaggerating on what my parents are like, either. My parents made me promise when I was 8 (in 2004) that I would never date or marry outside my (white) race, and my parents still defended that the last time I brought it up, because "no one wants mixed babies.")

And I'm also a disabled trans queer who's also a leftist, and the only person I've ever been in a relationship with was mixed race. You obviously can date a person of color and still be racist though (also see "i have a black friend"), but my point is that even though I didn't keep the agreement, I can't change the fact that I did still make that agreement in the first place. Though I don't blame myself too much for that particular incident because I was 8; I wasn't even really conceptualizing dating in anything but the broadest of strokes yet (and I ended up being demi ace). Also, I really wouldn't have had the option to refuse, and doing so would have put me in danger. I didn't know it at the time, but my mother had already planned to kill me a few years prior for being "difficult" (AKA having autism that they refused to let me get diagnosed with). I'm pretty sure the only reason she didn't was because she wasn't sure she'd be able to overpower me without help from my dad, since I was always big and strong for my age, and my mother has had a severe back injury my entire life.

This isn't just a me patting myself on the back either. My point is that people can actually change, but you do need to let them. You don't have to forgive them, but no one is ever going to get better if they feel like they're not allowed to. They may be taking a real risk by even considering "disloyalty". You think neo-nazi groups let you just walk away and become a leftist without a fight? They don't. And even if they're not putting themselves in physical danger, it's still very isolating to leave behind your friends and family and start over. (I never had to leave a neo-nazi group, though I know someone who did, but I have experienced the isolation from leaving everything behind.)

Just... try and be patient with those who are fighting with you, who are still learning but are trying their best.

Never forget that acceptance of far-right ideals (ie tradwives, terfs, casual racism) in liberal spaces is a huge part of why today’s radicalization is so widespread and unquestioned

[dykedvonte]

(abt my last ask) thank you for the answer, your understanding of charas is trully stellar!

I wanted to ask, what's your take on recovery!au (unless you intend to cover it in your fic)? In the universe, where Jimmy happens, but the crew somehow survives. Everyone is traumatised, Anya is pregnant, Curly is disabled (could he even be able to afford disability aids? Pony express in no more, would they even be paid a sufficient compensation?). There is also a question of p*lice investigation (or whatever agency is responsible for space crimes), even more trauma... Man, it's bleak.

-💀

I like them sad but for emotional and physical recovery reason rather than all the actual legal stuff that would ensue.

I like when Swansea relapsing is explored and Daisuke losing a little bit of his light. I am clearly a big supporter of Anya and Curly remaining close friend after but I think exploring the unhealthy dynamics of the trauma bond they’d develop should be played with way more. I think it’s a bit annoying when people are on the nose about Anya telling Curly he should’ve done more, especially when he’s struggling through recovery.

I feel like people really want her to be a character to rub salt into wounds, just to give her something cathartic, but it’s just OOC for me. It’s not a kindness thing but I don’t think she wants that sort of guilt to stay with him like that? He did not do what Jimmy did, he could’ve done more to stop it but she would not intentionally try to direct what she can never take out towards Jimmy at Curly. At least when they all make it out. This is not to say she doesn’t think he shouldn’t have any remorse but she understands that no one else could have foreseen Jimmy crashing the ship or getting that bad.

I like when it gets psychoanalytic in fics with the crew. Talk about Curly finally opening up on details on how he and Jimmy were friends, have the others realize how bad Jimmy was to even Curly, not a lot of people realize that they don’t know how Jimmy was to him. Have Anya be angry and snippy, have her worry she’s becoming like Jimmy even though she could never be like him, it’s that fear though, that she is owed that cathartic release and may take it out on others in some selfish subconscious desire to reclaim control for herself. Have her actualize-herself, is med school the only option? What does she want now? Does Swansea divorce his wife, give up on the life he created because he was just following the path of a good man, one he didn’t believe? Or does he stay and use the time he has left to make it something he believes in. How is Daisuke? Is he more mature or does he lose a little light? What are his new aspirations if any? His relationship with his parents?

Ultimately, I think a recover au should really focus on just them actually getting to know each other and filling themselves. So much of their interactions were likely based on coworker dynamics first. With that out the window they are now people who can’t really move on from each other but need to move on in life.

[youmakethelight]

I felt every word of this in my soul. Shalaka always has the best and most thoughtful takes.

I really want to talk about the ash and carol scene where ash shouts at her. And I really want to thank Shalaka for speaking about this bc it helped me understand why I felt so uneasy about it and why I've been dreading rewatching it.

(To clarify, I have absolutely no complaints about Manish Dayal or Melissa McBride. I think they are both incredible actors, and I think they absolutely smashed their performances. My issue here is with the showrunner and the writing.)

Before I watched it myself, all I heard people say about this scene was how nice it is that Carol told the truth to Ash, and how nice it is that Daryl told her to tell him..

Well, when I watched it myself, when Ash started shouting - I wasn't okay. Carol's reaction made me feel uncomfortable in ways I really didn't understand. To be honest, I sort of zoned out while it was happening because it felt so unsettling to me. I guess my fight or flight reaction was freeze.

And I realise now that it felt so unsettling because I've spent years with Carol, knowing that she has a history of abuse, but being able to feel how far she's come. It felt like armour to know that in spite of having that history inside of her, she's built layers that feel powerful and strong in the best way.

This scene felt like it stripped and peeled all of that back, and she was raw. It hurt. But the thing is, it hurt because it felt like the men creating the show were making this happen to her. And for what payoff? For that reason, it felt humiliating actually. It felt like disrespect. And actually, it felt like men behind the camera getting to feel gratified at seeing a woman "brought down a peg or two". These are the feelings I felt, even though I couldn't articulate why it felt that way. But it did feel that way.

As for Ash shouting as he did, this shocked me. Although this is a zombie horror show, it genuinely felt more scary to me that such a kind man, who I'd spent all this time beginning to trust, reacted in such a volatile way. It reminded me of how someone you trust to never hurt you just might.

Although his words were hurtful, I could barely hear them, because I was too preoccupied by how much the shouting put me in my fight or flight (or freeze) mode. For me, without doubt, the words would have had more emotional impact without the shouting. And honestly, it just seemed out of nowhere. It seemed out of character for Ash, excessive, and there was nothing in the script that helped me understand a reason for why he reacted quite so violently. And then we just move on as if it was okay.

What did the re-creation of carol's domestic abuse even achieve? Was the showrunner just saying "see, look, I did watch parts of your stupid show, I know about the abuse, I can show you I know". It felt gratuitous because it didn't seem to achieve anything.

In "Look at the Flowers" in season 10, when carol hallucinated alpha and she hurled verbal insults at carol, we saw a glimpse of how carol's history of abuse affects her. I found that to be much more of a sensitive exploration of this topic. Within that scene, carol was given space to respond in a way that didn't regress her. It felt more like getting to learn a bit more about her and how it feels to be inside her head.

My takeaway is that men like david zabel should not be allowed to write stories about women who have been abused.

Nine Lives Two Mics (Caryl Podcast) | New Episode

🎙️Deep Dive into 204 & 205 of #TheBookofCarol🎙️

A comprehensive review of Daryl & Carol’s arc in episodes 4 & 5 of The Book of Carol.

Spotify | Youtube

This podcast was recorded before the new teaser was released, and David Zabel decided to share his "vision" again. The next podcast episode will cover all of the above and a breakdown of some of the most talked-about scenes from the TBOC finale. Keep an eye out for updates.