#like my blog would feel like more of MY blog

[collarenthusiast]

I don't talk about it much on my blog despite it being in my bio, but this is my exact experience being Bipolar. Our local mental hospital is famously said to be a place where "people don't get better", even by the "professionals" who work there. I even stayed there for a month a few years back when I was experiencing Psychosis, and what do you know- abuse, neglect, mistreatment, dehumanisation, and eventual discharge once the obscene dosages of antipsychotics made me "docile" but not actually better (unless you count getting PTSD as "better"). I'm frankly so terrified of going back that on my really bad days I'll just white-knuckle my way through it because I KNOW going back would just inflict more trauma on my already traumatized ass. Our mental health systems are broken and rotten at an institutional level, and the silence surrounding this issue is frankly sickening.

I really hope things get better for you OP, I know how much it sucks and how hard it can feel when you're stuck between a rock and a hard place like this.

my anhedonia is eating me alive so i’m making these mental illness memes to cope

[calebsmuse]

not me haunting your asks in every single blog you own 😈 sooo, do you write parents!au? bc I wanted to request some scenario abt how sylus, caleb and xavier would react to their kids telling u to shut up. I KNOW ITS WEIRD BUT ITS A OLD TREND I THINK?? anyway, love ya babe 💘💋💋

੭⠀ A little prank.

⋆⠀AUTHOR'S NOTES: I love parents!au so much 😭

⋆⠀FEATURING: Xavier, Sylus, Caleb.

⋆⠀WARNING: English is not my first language, so it may contain some mistakes.

Your son’s favorite pastime was annoying his father, and he was certainly better at it than anyone else. Not only that, but he also managed to convince you to help with yet another one of his… pranks.

The boy smiled when he saw his father heading to the kitchen and turned back to his video game. Not long after, you walked into the room with something in hand. “Sweetheart, could you take this—”

“Shut up, mom,” he tried to say in an irritated tone, but a smile was plastered across his face.

𝜗ৎ ⠀⠀XAVIER

Not even five seconds had passed before your son was groaning in pain, Xavier’s slipper lying on the couch beside him after hitting the back of his head squarely. “Dad—”

Xavier raised the other slipper, pointing it at the boy. “Apologize. Now,” he said, his eyebrows furrowing. “Is that any way to talk to your mother?”

“But I was busy, and she—” Once again, the boy didn’t get the chance to finish his sentence, the other slipper flying straight at him. Xavier crossed his arms, his gaze fixed on his son.

You widened your eyes and placed a hand on your husband’s shoulder, squeezing it lightly. “Okay, okay, it was a… joke, just a prank.”

Xavier gave a faint smirk, glancing at you. “…Yeah, I knew that.” He pulled you into a hug, sticking his tongue out at your son. “You think I’d stop at that if I saw him disrespecting you like that?”

𝜗ৎ ⠀⠀SYLUS

Sylus prided himself on being an exemplary father. He was patient, fun—or so he thought—and wealthy. I mean, surely his son was already having a better childhood than most people who came from the same place Sylus had, right?

And perhaps it was exactly that freedom and comfort in his presence that made the boy feel confident enough to make that kind of joke.

“I must’ve misheard. Definitely,” Sylus said loud enough for both of you to hear. You turned away so he wouldn’t see your expression, while your son simply grimaced.

“Dad, she could’ve just asked one of my uncles to go—or, I don’t know, gone herself!” the boy said, spinning the pieces of a pistol between his fingers.

Sylus’s steps were almost inaudible; it was as if he had teleported to his son’s side. He crossed his arms, an irritated expression on his face. His son had never seen that look before—at least, not directed at him.

“Don’t you dare talk to your mother like that under this roof,” he said. “I don’t care if she could’ve asked someone else—if she tells you to do something, you do it. She brought you into this world.”

The boy couldn’t hold back his laughter, bursting out in hysterics. Your husband opened his mouth to say something but stopped when he saw you laughing as well. He let out a sigh, rubbing his face. “You too now?”

𝜗ৎ ⠀⠀CALEB

Honestly, your son was expecting Caleb to yell at him or chase after him, but it was even more terrifying to see him stay silent, slowly turning to face the boy.

He froze, setting the video game controller down on the coffee table. Caleb’s eyes stayed fixed on him, and his silence lingered just long enough to make the boy shift uncomfortably under the stare.

When Caleb finally spoke, his voice was strangely calm—and that wasn’t exactly a good thing. “You have five seconds to do as your mother said and come back here, and another five to apologize and explain yourself.”

You let out an awkward laugh before wrapping your arms around your husband. “It was just a joke, I swear.” Caleb glanced at you, slipping a hand under your shirt to give you a pinch. “Ouch! It was his idea!”

He rolled his eyes but let out a relieved laugh, despite his irritation with your newfound way of spending free time. “I should’ve known.”

[lukolathoughts]

Nicola loves the girls, the gays, and Luke Newton.

Dearest gentle readers,

Well! What an interesting few days. I'm not sure where to even start. I just want to let Jakeholes know, this isn't the blog for you, so it's best you move along now before you start foaming at the mouth.

In my first blog, I touched on subtext and reading between the lines. This is something I teach to my students and encourage their critical thinking skills. I will give out a photo and ask my students to 'infer' from what they can see in the photograph. 'Inference is a process of deriving logical conclusions from premises known or assumed to be true. It is also a guess or an opinion that is formed based on the information that you have.' In an exam, if I gave the students a photograph and they simply told me that all they could see was that the sky was blue, the grass was green, the lady is wearing a green coat and the man a hoodie and a baseball hat, they would not get very many marks.

However, if they described what they could 'infer' from the photo, such as that handhold does not look genuine and his fingers are stiff, their laughter seems over the top, the man isn't wearing a coat in January. They seem to be looking directly at the photographer, they never make eye contact in any of the photos. This would get them some more marks. Then if they went that one step further and asked WHY to all these points and backed it up with a statement explaining why - they would get even more marks. For example, why isn't the man wearing a coat in January? This could suggest the weather is not that cold in London at the moment, or the this picture might be from an earlier time period. They could look at the shop displays for evidence. Why does the lady never make eye contact with the man, could it infer that she is uncomfortable doing so or the thought never occurred to her? Why are they looking directly at the photographer? Could it possibly indicate they knew the paparazzi were there? And why would they want the paparazzi to take their photo's? What do you say to that class? Are they a couple happily in love? Write me a story on it, one, two, three go! They say a picture paints a thousand words.

Now since Deux Moi dropped the photos just as I was cooking the kid's tea (British slang for dinner) I have once again been glued to Twitter. I had to take a break for a bit and ensure my offspring didn't starve, but I thought oh god another shitshow and the day isn't even over. But I open Instagram and I swear I had the best laugh I have had all day really. I'm not sure when these photos were taken. The weather does look mild to be January and Jake is wearing a hoodie, but my husband is stupid like this and walks around in board shorts. In January. In Wales. When I tell you it's baltic cold, I mean it. But men apparently don't feel the cold especially if you're 24 and plastered to the side of your bestie or PR girlfriend, however you prefer. Us Brits love analysing the weather, probably because it's so shit here. So the timing is not really the issue for me. What made me laugh was was those two belly-laughing in some London alleyway looking like, 'look at us, we're so funny, everything is hilarious haha.' This was quite surprising to me as I genuinely did not realise Jake had a sense of humour, especially around Nic. What did she say that was so funny? We know she has the ability to make Luke belly laugh just by scratching her nose really. It was almost as if it was all a bit orchestrated for the cameras they were staring directly at. 'Smile and laugh for the camera Jake! You've been framed!'

So what was this? A PR set up that Nic and Jake were clearly aware of? Call me sceptical, but I've never seen anything so obviously fake and staged in all my life. Well except the motorbike segment on Graham Norton on the 13th of December last year. I have thought a lot about this and I know I might get some hate, but it's my opinion and I'm sorry Nic if you ever read this. Another thing us English teachers like to do is DESCRIBE things. Describe it to me Peter, or it didn't happen. Touch, smell, sound, taste, sight. Those are the five senses and if you write me a story, you bet your ass they better be in it or it's an F for you. So Nicola, describe to me how it felt racing through London on the back of a motorbike driven by a geriatric, Guinness drinking granddad (do you like my use of alliteration here fellow English teachers?). Graham Norton - 'we have a picture of you on the bike!' Erm, no you have a picture of Nicola stood next to the bike with her thumbs up. There was a video released by her PR company simultaneously that shows Nicola in a STUDIO sitting on the bike and it moving very, very slowly. We do not see her whizzing away up the road on the back of said bike into oblivion, screaming like Michelle Phieffer in Grease 2, clutching on to cool rider Guinness granddad for dear life. In fact, when asked about the experience she recalls literally nothing. If it was me, I'd have been like OMG Graham I almost died! The wind was howling, I was freezing, all I could hear was the rush of wind and the honking horns of cars. All I could see was the glare of lights and traffic and I tasted my own tears through fear.

Watch it if you don't believe me. There was nothing. Am I positive it didn't happen? Actually yes, show me the footage and I'll believe. Why did she go through this elaborate scheme? I have my theories and I will not share them here. I have said enough. But I did get an image in my mind of Luke in Rome rubbing his forehead and thinking, what is she up to now? He was probably secretly a bit proud.

Ok back to tonight's debacle. After the shit show that was Luke's disastrous family weekend than had more taps dripping than the Leaky Cauldron in Harry Potter, I find it highly convenient these photos drop today of all days. I know that Nicola HATES Deux Moi and the feeling I believe is mutual. Wouldn't DM have looked at these photos logically and thought, well these two look like besties out for a stroll? I suppose she does not care, whatever sells right? Was this to yet again spite Nicola?

Or was this Nicola who saw everything that Luke endured this weekend, and quietly told her PR team to 'drop' the photos of me with Jake to divert some attention away. Did she come charging in on her white horse (motorbike) to save the day? There is also the highly suspicious tanned photo of Nic at the WT premiere and then Luke's photo from the funeral, (I do not condone this by the way and I was upset for him this morning and his invasion of privacy) which also shows a bit of a red, sunburned face. Did Nicola once again panic and try to control the narrative? I am lately still picking up on her nervous, scared energy in my readings. She is very nine of swords in her head. Losing sleep etc.

I do love a good mystery and folks, I guess if you are reading this and nodding and not screaming obscenities at me through your screen, I guess you are stuck here with me on the ship for the long haul. I actually loved these photos tonight as it gave me a good laugh and and it proved to me even further that Jake is to Nic what Kurt Hummel is to Rachel Berry. Besties. It is also quite ironic that the first pap pics of them last October dropped the week his trailer for WT dropped and these photos land the week his film is released! What are the chances! Coincidence, Sherlock?

PS. No I do NOT believe Antonia was at Luke's family member's funeral. We have to stop treating this girl like the bogeyman. Let her go and live her life. Luke is living his I have no doubt.

PPS. It is not homophobic to recognise someone is gay. I INFER this from his own Instagram and his friends and partner's posts. I am fed up of being called homophobic when I have a lot of gay friends and two gay cousins.

PPPS. Luke and Nic sitting in a tree, KISSSING. I see you Nic, you savvy little mamma ;,)

[hoonieyun]

this is where it ends ⋆˙⟡♡

days of dodging your boyfriend after your fight finally lead you to the answer you've been looking for (read part one here) heeseung 𐐪♡𐑂 jongseong 𐐪♡𐑂 jaeyun 𐐪♡𐑂 sunghoon genre: aaaaangsttttt!!! angst!! heartbreak.. OOF warnings: toxic relationship, bad coping mechanisms, profanity, mentions of drinking as an addiction, gaslighting, arguing, 18+

hoonieyun notes: WHEW... lowkey was like.. damn this shit is TOO angsty so sorry in advance but im obsessed with angst lately and watching xo kitty did not help because that show was a rollercoaster LMAO anyways i hope you guys enjoy this sad piece of work because i have more coming with my vday anthology and exes reunited series plus! i've just announced my 1k follower special!

𐐪♡𐑂 @pagemiah @jiiyen @jnysaln @xh01bri @rairaiblog @laurradoesloveu @17ericas @manaah02 @heeseung64 @zorange13 @heartheejake @cloud-lyy @heeweenie @jakesimfromstatefarm @lovelymelon @1-itsneverthatserious-1 @anushkaaaiaiiaiaia

@chvconn3 @heeheeyeoiizz01 @pjselee @malloryaloisia @alienqbrain @jooniesbears-blog @haeeeeefer @firstclassjaylee

heeseung ⋆˚ʚɞ

it had been 3 days since you left heeseung standing in your apartment, dumbfounded and unsure of where you were. you really had hoped he would run after you that night but he didn’t and that seemed to put the nail in the coffin for you. 

were you ready to throw away your relationship all because of this? 

was it worth it to lose the person you love? 

you had pondered on so many questions since that night and each question felt like you were guilt tripping yourself into thinking that your own feelings weren’t valid, like you were trying to convince yourself that you were overreacting and that heeseung was right. 

why were you being so annoying?

but these questions only led to more questions instead of answers.

were you being annoying or were you just tired of not being heard? 

if you hadn’t been the one to constantly ask him to clean up after himself would he have done it on his own? 

why were you trying to come up with reasons to talk yourself back into his arms when you truly knew deep down the answer you were looking for…

you just weren’t ready to come to terms with it. 

so here you were, hurriedly packing what you could before heeseung could come home. and just to your luck, he had arrived much earlier than you anticipated. “yn?” heeseungs says, shock painted across his face as he sees you standing in the hallway with a box of your things. 

“wh- what are you doing?” he asks, eyes falling on the box in your hands. 

both of you knew the answer to that. 

“i think- i can’t do this anymore, hee… 

i did a lot of thinking these past fews days and everything i thought of i found myself trying to make excuses for you. trying to figure out why i was acting this way and why i was going out of my way to make it seem like i was the one causing these issues and stressing myself out and then i realized… 

why was i trying to compromise my own happiness and well being for someone who didn’t care about me? 

for someone who couldn’t simply understand where i was coming from and couldn’t even listen to me when all i would ask for was something so easy as to clean up after yourself. 

heeseung, you’re grown and so am i and i’m done acting like your words and actions don’t hurt solely for the fact that i don’t want to lose you. 

we’re over.” your eyes had tears pooling in them but you refused to let them fall in front of heeseung. 

“what?” heeseung asks, slipping his shoes off and running over to you in an attempt to stop you, reaching for the box but you move out of the way before he can. 

“yn.. can we please talk about this? don’t jump to conclusions just because you’re hurt. this isn’t what you want, what about us? 

are you willing to throw us away because of some petty fight?” and that’s when you knew that you and heeseung weren’t on the same page… at all. 

“that’s what you have to say?” and at this point you had lost the fight to stop the tears from falling. 

“you haven’t even apologized? and now you’re here trying to gaslight me into thinking that what i’m feeling is just the result of a petty fight? 

hee, you never listen to me. you dismissed my feelings and all i asked was you clean up our bedroom because i was tired. i’m sorry but if that was such a hard task then i don’t know what to tell you. 

i’m not jumping to conclusions. heeseung, we’re done.” you say, pushing passed him so you could leave and move on. start new and heal from this pain. 

“really? you’re just going to walk away?” heeseung asks, still refusing to take accountability for his actions. 

“i’m not walking away… you pushed me away.”

“bye, heeseung.”

jongseong ⋆˚ʚɞ

jay hadn’t been able to pick up a bottle of alcohol since that night… 5 months ago. he hadn’t realized he developed a bad habit of drinking all because he couldn’t wrap his head around the fact that his loving girlfriend, the one who took care of him, who loved him, who fought for him to make things right, was slowly becoming someone he didn’t love anymore. 

so why was it that now that you two were broken up, he wants nothing more to get back together with you? 

he thought about the day you finally came back. after you ran out in the middle of the night jay didn’t see you for a whole week and by the end of that week, you would be gone for good. 

“is this what you really want?” jay had asked you right before you left. 

“its not what i want… but it doesn’t seem like what i want would be something that could ever happen if i stayed with you. 

you hurt me, jay. all i ever did was care for you and love you and it made me realize i hadn’t felt care or love from you for a while now. 

i truly hope that you get help for your drinking problem but i’m sorry i’m not going to be the one to fix it for you.” and with that you were gone. out of jay’s life and although you had said that you weren’t going to be the one to fix his drinking problem, in a lot of ways; you did fix it. 

he hadn’t drank since that night and vowed to himself that he wouldn’t drink ever again and 5 months after, he’s kept that promise. 

jay wished that he did keep his promise to you. 

when he finally asked you to be his girlfriend, he had promised to hold your heart close to his and to never break it. only to find himself distancing his heart from yours and eventually shattering it into millions of pieces when you got into a fight that night. 

but he was now forced to face all of this all over again as you stood in front of him, mirroring the same shocked face he had as the two of you run into each other at a mutual friends party. 

you hadn’t seen jay since that night and although your heart ached for him, you had to choose yourself. you couldn’t stand being with someone who saw you as overbearing when all you did was care for and love them. 

you truly had been worried about jay ever since his drinking habits had gone worse and maybe you could’ve gone about it a better way and not made him feel attacked for his actions but he didn’t have the same consideration for you so why should you do the same… right? 

“h-hi.. yn. you look good.” jay stutters. 

“you do too, um.. i–” you begin to say but he cuts you off. “look, i know we didn’t end on the right foot and these past five months have been hard for me so i could only imagine how hard they’ve been on you. 

i wasn’t right to treat you that way and i’m sorry i’m only realizing it now. i miss you so much and i spend countless nights thinking about you. reminiscing on the good times and how i let myself ruin all of it. 

i’m sorry, yn.” it all comes out like word vomit and quite frankly, you weren’t prepared to hear any of it. you also hadn’t expected him to have this much of grasp on your relationship five months after, but it was all too late. 

“i’m sorry too, jay– but i can’t keep doing this. i think you need to move on. i know i will…” you muttered.

“for what it’s worth… you did help me… i’m five months sober.” he confesses and you give him a tight lipped smile. 

“take care of yourself, ok?” you say before turning around to leave and although jay wished that he could’ve said all of this five months sooner in hopes that it would’ve fixed your relationship, he respects your wishes and just hopes that the next guy who comes around would love you the way you deserved to be loved. 

jaeyun ⋆˚ʚɞ

in the time you’ve dated jake or quite frankly, anyone, they had never raised their voice and spoke to you in that way. jake seemed so angry and upset that it scared you. you knew that jake would never hurt you but his words pierced your heart in ways that caused you pain you had never felt before, especially from someone you love and was supposed to love you.

it always hurts more when it comes from someone you love right? 

you had come home the next day and found jake sleeping on the couch, hugging the plushy that he often said looked like you. 

you’d be lying if you said that seeing him like this didn’t make your heart hurt… but it did. 

it seemed like jake had fallen asleep on the couch waiting for you but you couldn’t shake the feeling.

the feeling of being unwanted, unloved, undesirable, and not enough for someone who is supposed to love you. 

but if jake had loved you he wouldn’t have raised his voice at you.. let alone speak to you in that tone and used language that was meant to hurt someone. 

“yn? is that you?” he says, stretching on the couch and rubbing his eyes, causing you to snap out of it. you quickly wipe away the tears that had miraculously appeared. “um, yeah. i just came to grab some things. you can go back to sleeping..” you explained as you made your way to your shared bedroom. 

“baby? can we talk?” jake says, peering into the room as he sees you packing your things inside of duffel bag. “wait- what are you packing? are you leaving? baby, please don’t do this, can we talk this out?” he was now on his knees in front of you, clutching onto your sweater while he begged. 

“jake, get up.” you say, rolling your eyes at him. 

“its just for a few days, i need time to myself- i need to think, ok?” you said and even now, even when you’re still hurting because of him from the night before, you were here trying to comfort him. 

jake stands up with a sniffle and he attempts to link your hands together but you pull away to continue packing your bag. “when are we going to talk about this? i love you, i don’t want you to leave… please stay.” he continues to beg and although its working, you needed to stay strong. 

“if you loved me you wouldn’t have spoken to me like that. people who love each other don’t speak to people they love that way. 

jake, you hurt me… and i don’t know what i did to deserve that treatment but i just wanted help. i spent all day running errands despite feeling like shit because of my period and you dismissed my feelings like it was nothing. 

that blanket meant so much to me, you knew that it was from my late grandmother yet you tossed it aside for your own accord because you didn’t have the same care for me and the things i love the way i do for you.” you said with a huff as you stuffed the last of your things into the bag. 

“when will you come back?” was all jake asked and all you could muster up was a shrug, because you weren’t entirely sure when you would be back. 

needless to say, a few days turned into a few weeks, and a few weeks turned into a few months and at some point you found yourself not having the need to come back. 

you wished you could get the closure you wanted from jake and you were sure he also wanted that, but walking away was something you needed to do. even if it was just one instance where jake spoke to you that way, it was enough for you to leave because you weren’t going to allow yourself to be with someone who found it in themselves to speak that way to someone they supposedly loved. 

not then, not now, and not ever.

sunghoon ⋆˚ʚɞ

sunghoon hadn’t known what he was doing, it was like his body was moving before his brain could think because he was running back inside and grabbing his car keys to drive after you. 

he wasn’t sure where you were headed off to but he had guessed that you were most likely going to stay with your mom. you were always close with your mom and she often was the person you went to when you were having troubles if you didn’t go to sunghoon. 

sunghoon knew he fucked up and he shouldn’t have treated you that way let alone let some strangers treat you that way. he didn’t know what let him get to the point where he was allowing these men to speak about you, the girl that he loved, in a way that made you feel small. demeaning and degrading you in a way that he hadn’t realized and even if he did, he chose to look away instead of defend you all because he was filled with the greed of wanting this promotion. 

was it even worth it anymore if it meant losing you? 

sunghoon was speeding at this point and although you hadn’t left much before he had went to follow you, there was no one else in the streets as he sped through to catch up to you. 

in a short amount of time, he’s turning into the street that your mom lives on and sure enough, he sees you just about to walk up to the front door. he hapazardly parks the car on the side of the street and stumbles out of his car to get to you. 

“yn, please. wait, lets talk about this!” he says and you’re startled at sunghoon suddenly appearing and you wipe the tears from your face and blink a few times to make sure he was actually there. 

“hoon? what are you doing here?” you ask, stepping down the small stairway that led to your mom’s home. “i couldn’t just let you leave like that, we need to talk-

look i’m sorry for the way i treated you and even more sorry that i let them treat you that way. i love you so much and i couldn’t imagine the amount of hurt i caused you for making it seem like i was okay with letting them say those things about you all because i wanted that promotion so damn bad. 

i was selfish and greedy but those are the things that make me want you more. i don’t want you to leave and walk away from me because i am selfish and greedy and i want you all to myself. 

i’m sorry that i didn’t defend you and i made you feel small…” he says and at this point sunghoon is crying. his voice breaks with every other word and you truly hadn’t seen sunghoon in this much distress, ever. 

you didn’t know how to respond but the longer you looked into sunghoon’s bloodshot eyes, the more confused you became. 

you could tell sunghoon was sincere but you didn’t think this was something that could be fixed right then and there. your sensitivity was always something you struggled with and sunghoon knew that yet he brushed off your feelings like it was nothing. 

“you shouldn’t have driven out all this way… 

because although i appreciate your apology i don’t know that i’m in the right place to accept it or to forgive you. 

sunghoon you hurt me and you let others hurt me. 

i’m selfish too, i want you all to myself too and i wouldn’t have stayed so long if i didn’t love you and want to be with you… but-

i don’t know if i can be with someone that doesn’t see me in the way i deserve. 

and i certainly know i don’t deserve any of that.” both of your attention is drawn to the sound of the front door as it opens, revealing your mother in her nightwear and arms crossed; a displeased expression on her face. 

“i’ll reach out to you when i’m ready.” you say and without another word you’re retreating into your mom’s home, hiding away from sunghoon and preparing yourself to have to face the inevitable one day. 

sunghoon on the other hand, drags himself to his car, head hanging low as he has to come to terms that his own selfishness and greed for the one he loved was also what caused him to lose the love of his life. 

copyright 2025 - present © hoonieyun all rights reserved all writing here is fiction & not in any association with characters mentioned. if you enjoyed reading this please consider reblogging and following <3

[herbs-and-poultices]

Thanks @accidentalcookies for the tag!

Not much of a story here either. i just wanted something that would describe my favorite hurt/comfort vibe, since the community is so varied and my interests are kinda niche. Like a short what-does-this-person-like and what-to-expect-from-this-blog. I forget what other words/descriptors I considered, but "herbs and poultices" had a nice ring to it. Nothing deeper than that.

My AO3 username is perhaps slightly more interesting, it's after a dark old English ballad (or rather, the English cousin of a dark old Scottish ballad). I discovered AO3 before I had any clue about Tumblr, and at that point I just wanted to be able to comment on and bookmark my favorite fics, so I didn't put too much thought into it. It was early pandemic days, my coping mechanisms were fiction and trad music, I picked something I'd been listening to recently. I've left it as-is because I'm a little skittish about airing my Tumblr to all the 'normal' fandom folks on AO3.

Tagging @erdarielthewhumper @prodigywhump @exhausted-sloth @comfort-questing @silvercap if you feel like it :)

Tag game🎉

Tag your moots and ask them where they got the idea for their tumblr accounts name!

For my name it was a nickname I was giving back in middleschool! One of our teacher had a system where we worked with 'wifi' eachtime we talked in class we lost a bar of the "wifi" (was a weird joke and we never held count on that) All the kids usually joked if they needed 'wifi' , they would borrow mine if they wanted to talk more. (I was incredibly shy in middle school, I only talked to like 3 people at school;^;)

They called me Ms. Wifi because of that. I just thought it would be funny if I put 'miss' instead of 'ms' because of my terrible actual wifi connection I have at home lol.

That's my story! Now moots, only if you guys want to, tell us your story.

Tags-> @slipping-lately @firequeenofficial @noagskryf @twinklstarrrr @halfbakedspuds @polterwasteist @rokushi-san @mygedagtes +anyone that sees this and wants to do this as well

[liesonmytongues]

Figured it was about time to post some of my writings since I made this blog specifically for them. Here's a request for a fic on AO3

MILF! Slime girl x Male! Reader

Synopsis- Hot older slime woman goes on a date with you that ends in insane sex

Warnings/CWs- Egregious smut, extremely inaccurate/impossible biology, unrealistic sex and biology, breast expansion, throat fucking, multiple orgasms, cunnilingus, possible body horror (she does some crazy shit), thigh and breast fucking, biting, human/monster romance, Male reader, dirty talk, rough sex

Word count- 3,800

She’s perfect. Perfect in every way- you've never met a woman better than her. And sure, maybe part of that was because she was a slime lady, and you’ve been interested in monster women for a really long time- but this is different, she's just…everything. The first time you saw her was a few days after she'd moved in- she'd been standing outside, tending to the garden that had been totally empty for months- with a kid on her hip and a pretty yellow sundress that stuck to her thighs and tits like a second skin. Every time she touched a plant, she got a little bit of ooze on the leaves. Every time she stepped, it made a plop noise and left behind a sticky footprint, threads of slime connecting her to the ground before snapping. And when she bent over? You got the most perfect view of her pretty tits, bulging out the top of her dress like if she bent over just a tiny bit more they'd pop out. You weren't even able to say hi that day because of how hard just looking at her made you- spending the rest of the night stroking your cock to thoughts of thrusting between her beautiful tits, feeling her slime squish and mold your cock to her body like she was made for you.

She's absolutely perfect.

You weren't even sure she'd want you considering what you were sure was a big age gap- she had baby pudge and rolls and little wrinkles, plus the toddler has to make her at least 10 years older than you, probably closer to 15- but hell, no one gets anything if they don't ask for it, right? So- once you’d had a very long shower to make sure you didn’t embarrass yourself -you asked her on a date. She accepted of course, and after a conversation about how well you’d treat her and where you would go, she got a babysitter and you were on your way. The date went perfectly, and besides a couple close slip ups where you could’ve sworn she was teasing you on purpose, you were the perfect gentleman- you even walked her back to her house at the end and kissed her on the doorstep.

Which is what led you here.

“I’ve never- y’know, uh…” You started and vaguely gestured at her body, kicking off your shoes. She’d basically yanked you inside as soon as you kissed her- pressed you against the door while you tried shoving her in the direction of her bedroom. She won out. Or, more like you couldn’t fight her any longer when your pants were so tight and your zipper was starting to hurt where it pressed into your tip.

“You’ve never had sex?” And she had the gall to smirk and laugh- her body jiggled with it, and little drops of slime slid down her arms and legs and wetted your shirt. Fuck, the ones on her legs looked almost like cum…

“No! No- I’ve just… I’ve never had sex with a slime girl before. Or like…an older woman.” She scoffed at ‘older woman’ and rolled her eyes, but she didn’t stop touching you- so you hadn’t fucked it up yet.

“Oh, well that’s not an issue, is it, baby?” She shrunk down to her knees, making a soft, squishy ‘plop!’ when she landed, and you almost moaned from the visual alone. Every time she touched your pants it left a little wet spot before absorbing back into her, making it feel like you were being caressed directly through your clothes.

“Mmm- ffu-ck,” She moaned when she slipped down the top of her dress, her big, slick tits popping out and hitting your thighs. Your cock has never been this hard in your life, and when she finally got around to unzipping your pants, it basically slapped her in the face.

“Ahh, so eager! See, I knew this wouldn’t be a problem.” She leaned forward, barely gripping your base and rubbing her lips and cheeks against all the skin she could reach. Just sliding her face up and down your shaft felt like humping between a human girls’ thighs, drenching you in her- getting you all slicked without so much as a lick. You already felt like a mess, but it was when she started suckling on your head and stroking the rest of your length that you actually choked up a sound.

“Oh god, you feel so good- fuck, suck it-” Her eyes turned up and she stared at you, lidding every time she took your cock a couple inches deeper. You couldn’t look away, fighting back the urge to close your eyes from how good it already felt- which meant you got the full view of when she sat up a little taller, sliding your erection between her tits. It was hard not to buck your hips directly into her face, especially when she squeezed them together so perfectly. Every time her nipples rubbed on your stomach and thighs, she moaned like a whore, trying to play with them while also keeping a tight hole for you to thrust into. Could she cum like this? It was around then that you could feel slime starting to drip onto your foot, unable to tell if it was just her body or if her pussy was really that wet already- but fuck, you don’t care.

You reached down to help her- to grope her and squeeze that beautiful rack like she clearly wanted -but you froze when you touched them. They were getting bigger. Expanding in your hands, squishing between your thighs and nearly engulfing your balls- and it suddenly struck you that you could see it. See your cock through her slightly transparent body, see the globes squeezing your shaft tighter- they didn't even look like they fit her body anymore. Too big to be proportionate on any woman, you couldn't imagine she would even be able to stand in this state- they'd just cause her to fall face first, with her gorgeous ass up in the air for you to take.

You didn’t care if it was quick- this was too much!

“I'm gonna cum- fuck you're gonna make me cum-” You groaned, tossing your head back and grinding your hips as much as possible with her body pinning you back into the door. Your voice was getting embarrassingly higher pitched with every noise you couldn’t hold back, fucking just your tip into her mouth and lightly slapping her lips every time your cock throbbed. It felt so good! A million times better than your imagination could ever provide during late nights rubbing your cock raw at the thought of this exact scenario. Minus the expanding- that was a welcome surprise

You were cumming before you even had a chance to pull away, gasping and shooting your load over her tits and chin, drenching her. You could watch it drip down her neck, into the crevice of either giant breast and nearly to her navel.

“Really? You haven’t even- ah -touched me yet and you blow your load, j-just like that?” She huffed, still panting and moaning softly, flicking her own nipples and groping herself to get off, licking the cum off her lips while you stood there. You were gonna say something back- something snarky or a rebuttal so she didn’t just get away with making fun of you, but as soon as you opened your mouth she was on her feet and yanking you down the hall. To her bedroom, you realized after a minute.

“Shut up…” You murmured too late to have any bite. Her room was nice, with a big, perfectly made bed smack in the center and a connected bathroom off to the side. You wondered briefly what the rest of the house looked like- where her kid slept, if she had a home office, what her kitchen looked like- but you snapped out of it when she got on the bed with a giggle, laying on her stomach and watching while you undressed. Your pants were sticky from her slime, and you had a hard time peeling them off for a couple of minutes- the strands connecting your thighs to the fabric like saliva might during a kiss. It should’ve felt gross, but the visual of her on her knees, making you that way, just made your cock twitch as you finally got the pants down to the floor. Her mouth suddenly sucking you off was another surprise- considering she was, obviously, on the bed, and you had to have been at least two feet away. You had expected her to have just climbed off the bed without you noticing, but looking at her, that clearly wasn’t the case.

She had turned herself over onto her back, neck stretched at least a foot further than should have been possible- bulging where your cock was nestled down her throat and truly making her look like the monster she was. Just like with her tits, you could make out every detail of your shaft as it slid up and down, contorting her textured esophagus and forcing slime between her lips, dripping down your balls and taint.

“God- you’re such a w-whore- did you need to suck me off so bad that you had to- fuck -mutilate yourself like that?” She whimpered in response, grabbing your hips and manually grinding you into her mouth. You were still sensitive, but she was managing to get you hard again. Really, it didn’t take much- all things considered you’re a little surprised you didn’t blow your load as soon as she started kissing you. Never in your life have you been this turned on, never have you had so many of your most depraved fantasies fulfilled all at once- this is heaven.

“Yeah? Want me to fuck your face? Want me to bruise your throat, feel it every time you swallow?” This has to be a blessing. God you think you might be in love- in love with that soft, wet throat, with the way her tits and pudge and rolls bounce more and more the harder you thrust- your balls slapping her face and making slick ‘plap’ sounds loud enough to nearly drown out her moans and whimpers- every sound sending vibrations through your cock

“Dirty whore- fucking slut, take it- take it, take it-” You aren’t entirely sure when you bent over, but all of a sudden your face is pressed into her thighs, fucking her face, kissing and biting as best you can on slime. Your teeth sink into her like it's nothing, and she just keeps moaning- does she feel pain the same way you do? Does she even need to breathe considering she hadn’t tapped you or tried to pop off your dick yet? It doesn’t matter- you just keep biting and sucking and licking her thighs, pushing them together and burying your face in the crevice. God you want to fuck them- want to shove your cock into them, slide her panties to the side and rub your head against her clit. Want to fondle her tits and make her cum-

“Cumming- cumming again, fuck- swallow it, c’mon-!” You really need to stop getting so carried away with those thoughts. This time, every single gush went down her throat- you could see her swallow. See her throat constrict and milk cum out of your weeping cock, see it go all the way down and settle in her stomach, feel her continue swallowing until you physically couldn’t cum anymore. Only then did she stop, letting you soften and slip out between her lips.

“Ahh- god! Fuck me already! You’ve cum twice and I haven’t even cum once!” She rubbed her thighs together for emphasis, and with your face still right in front of them, you could see her slick- her actual slick, not just her slime -dribble out from under her panties. They were soaked. You had no doubt that if you tried, you’d probably be able to wring them out.

“What, did I suck you dumb? Did your mind come out with everything else?” Fucking hell, it’s not clear whether her attitude is from her age or just being horny, but it’s definitely doing it’s job of making you want to fuck her speechless. It’s not your fault she makes you like this!

“I’m getting to it! It’s not easy when you keep doing that before I even get around to touching you!” This is fun, it really is, but you’re just getting frustrated not being able to do what you want.

“Can’t believe you have such an attitude when you’re the one who basically forced yourself on me.” You murmured, circling the bed and climbing between her plump thighs. The bite marks from earlier were just barely visible, her body already mostly healed up the holes, leaving just little indents. Too bad, but not a problem, you can always make more.

You needed at least a couple minutes to recover, so maybe now you could work on that attitude of hers. Because her body didn’t really have bones or muscle or, like, really anything that made it keep its shape, you were able to take her legs and push her forward until she was bent in half- her calves nearly behind her ears and her ass and pussy up in the air and spread wide. She helped by grabbing the back of her knees, pressing them to her chest and keeping herself spread open like it was the easiest thing in the world while you dove in- licking stripes up her cunt to finally get a taste of her sweet slick. Being see-through made it a tiny bit harder to find her clit, but you got there after a minute, and, figuring she’d probably been edged enough, jumped headfirst into sucking it into your mouth. She wailed as soon as you did, tossing her head back before forcing it forward again so she could look at you.

The angle was a little awkward, but you managed to keep eye contact while you ate her out, moaning into her cunt and watching her try so hard not to let her eyes close in pleasure. She was starting to tear up, whining and moaning and crying out how good you were making her feel every time you sucked or licked stripes up her pussy. Her body was drooling for you too, it was almost difficult to lap at it all, half of her juices getting on your lips and chin and dripping down your neck or her ass. It was almost as good as actually fucking her.

“Fu-uck, fuck, baby, yes-! Oh g-god please, please, please, need your cock!” She cried again, bucking her hips into your face like she was out of control. Your cock had definitely taken interest again, rubbing at the sheets and begging for attention- and if she was asking for it, who are you to deny her? So with her body still bent in half, you started pressing at her cunt.

At first you didn’t mean to just rut between her thighs, but her body and pussy were so wet that it was making it hard to thrust inside- and you realized how good it felt after the third try. Your tip was bumping her clit just like you’d been imagining earlier, and if you pressed her thighs together just tight enough, it almost felt like being inside. Her knees fell onto your shoulder, and you had to wrap both of your arms around those pretty thighs to squeeze them together enough for your liking. Every time you rut against her clit, she wailed and moaned in higher and higher pitches- her pussy spasming against your shaft, begging for you to put it inside already. And humping between her thighs, spreading her lips, bumping her clit every time you thrust, was how she came.

Her back arched off the bed so far it would have snapped in any normal human, mouth gaping wide and legs trembling over your shoulder. Her cum dribbled down her thighs, furthering the mess on the sheets where you'd been eating her out a second ago.

She was having trouble even making sound, too caught up in her orgasm to so much as moan- reduced to gasping and chest spasms until she finally started to come down from her high. You hadn't even known women could cum that hard, let alone ever seen it outside of porn. Fuck everything else from that night- this was the hottest thing you've ever seen.

“Jesus- Christ-” She was laughing in between pants when she could actually talk again. Everything about her looked entirely blissed out- like she was floating on air -and you were struck with the fact that you did all that. You made her this way. Your dick shouldn’t be so hard after everything- but you’d be a damn liar if you said it wasn’t.

She didn’t get any time to relax before you flipped her onto her stomach, her body squelching again with the impact and again when you thrust inside her- needing to grip your cock and spread her pussy to be able to. She was so warm inside, and you found yourself again forcing her body forward until her lower back was nearly touching her shoulders- holding her calves to your chest and fucking her like a wild animal. You were so out of it that you didn’t even notice when her body started changing again until you fell forward, what used to be her legs fusing behind your back, making it hard to keep thrusting. It was like she never wanted you to stop, and the throbbing of her soaked cunt just added to it.

She’s still perfect in every way. Better than any woman you’ve ever met- ever fucked. Better than any fantasy. The shlick sound of your cock fucking in and out, the slapping of your balls against your clit that made her cry and moan and yell, the rough panting that made your lungs ache and her skin even slicker- nothing will ever live up to now. Her pussy keeps clenching around your shaft, spasming every time a gush of slick drips down her folds and makes your thighs as wet as being drenched in lube- making your thrusts even more obscene.

It’s like having sex with a pornstar- someone who has all the experience in the world and all the confidence to use it. She was made to be fucked by you. Made to take your cock over and over, made to cum around you and use her body to force you to keep going. Tendrils of slime slithered out of her torso and around your thighs, wrapping hard around your arteries and making you feel dizzy with the pleasure and loss of circulation- and at the same time, you could swear she was getting smaller. Your hands more easily wrapped around her waist, your cock gripped ever tighter, the bulge in her stomach getting bigger, moving up- she was forcing you to go harder, to push your cock past where it should possibly have been able to go. It felt like you could push into her womb if you tried hard enough- fuck, with her biology, you probably could. Her body wanted you to jackrabbit her cunt until you couldn’t cum anymore, drain you dry and then keep going.

“Ah! Ah! F-uck! Fuck me! Cum inside-” You yanked her torso up, wrapping one arm around her waist and using the other to grope her perfect, stunning, massive tits, rolling her nipples between your fingers- and she came again from the stimulation, screaming your name. Her pussy spasming and squeezing so hard you couldn’t pull out, a sudden spray of liquid absolutely destroying any bedding that was still clean- she was squirting on you. You couldn’t hold back after the sudden pressure- pulling her flush to your chest and cumming deep inside -your cum visibly shooting through her ribbed inside and against her cervix.

And promptly falling directly on top of her, face first into the ruined sheets. Your body was past the point of exhaustion- you couldn’t keep going. And seemingly, neither could she. Little, overstimulated moans and whimpers escaped her mouth, her body jolting and smaller waves of squirt leaking out of her hole- you’d be shocked if either of you would be able to move in the morning.

“Thank you- thank you…” Kissing her gently, rolling both of you over and gently pulling out of her abused cunt- eliciting another whine. You peppered more kisses over her face and neck, careful to put your hands somewhere that wouldn’t keep stimulating her poor body- even if that was a bit of a challenge considering how sensitive she is.

“I need to get up- need to clean us up. C’mon…” You pried softly at the tendrils and fused legs still wrapped around your entire lower body, but she was reluctant to let go.

“I’ll be right back.” A few more kisses.

“You promise?” She turned her face so you would kiss her lips.

“Promise, I’ll come back and stay the night.” You did what she wanted, leaving a long, soft kiss to her lips, waiting for her tendrils to go back and her legs to reform. It took a couple of minutes, and some more sweet words, but when her body eventually went back to normal, you were able to stand on wobbly feet and find her bathroom. You're not sure how exactly slime people bathe, or if they can even use towels and the like without getting absorbed or something, but you did find a soft cloth. You wiped yourself off first, hissing at the feeling of something on your oversensitive cock and thighs- then rinse, wring, repeat. Your new lover was exactly where you’d left her, and the only movements she gave you while you cleaned her up were twitches and little whines of ‘too much’ when you wiped a particularly sensitive spot. It was easy, and when you were both somewhat clean- and had somehow managed to yank the sheets off the bed and lay a clean blanket down -you finally went back to her and gave her what you promised.

Her whole body wrapped around yours, doing the same thing as earlier and fusing together, forcing you to stay still. You probably wouldn’t be able to convince her to let you go again, so it was best to accept it- and as soon as you did, you could hear her softly snoring.

You weren’t far behind, holding this perfect woman to your body, sinking your fingers into her slime, and letting yourself rest.

[allthecanadianpolitics]

Hello! I'm sorry if you've been flooded with this question lately, but my friend and mutual had recommended your blog to me. I would like to know what the chances of a queer American person of color being granted asylum in Canada are and if it would even be safe and worth it to try? Would my chances diminish if I bring my pet?

About 20% of Americans who applied for refugee status in 2024 were denied. That's all I can really say about chances.

The Canadian government said this in 2016 during the last Trump presidency (Bold for emphasis):

VICE: Could we see certain groups of people in the US claim refugee status in Canada due to the Trump presidency? Last year we saw a case where a black American man said he was fleeing police brutality in the United States, which was ultimately denied.

Raj Sharma: I suppose so. We saw some refugee claims from Iraq War military deserters. There was the Jeremy Hinzman case a few years ago, and Randy Quaid. I used to be a refugee protection officer, and I know what’s an acceptable refugee claim by an American. The problem is this for a refugee claim: You need a personalized risk. It’s got to be persecution, which is a significant interference with a core human right. Disagreement with Trump or being the victim of police brutality or profiling, that really comes more under the lines of discrimination and harassment, which is not covered by refugee definitions.

There’s two other hurdles. One would be internal flight alternative—if there’s a problem in one part of the country, could you be safe in another part? That problem has to be everywhere in that country. If you can [move to another area], you don’t get international protection. Then you have state protection: Can you go the police? There’s various levels of protection in democratic countries like the US and Canada.

-- Canada has also been moving in a more xenophobic direction by decreasing the number of immigrants we accept due to right wing politicians, so I don't think that'll help either.

If you feel its an option, feel free to go for it, but a lot of things recently hasn't given me a lot of hope that Canada will step up and help Americans.

[thelov3lybookworm]

Journals (part 2)

Part 1

Summary: new realisations and hauntingly beautiful words

•○●⛦●○•

Word Count: 2059

Warnings: heavyyyy angst, mental health issues, depression, feeling unworthy of love, panic attack, self harm (alluded to), self hate. thats all i can think of right now, but let me know if i need to add anything

A/n: based on old poetry by @garden-of-runar 🤭i had reblogged them to my drafts on a side blog that i dont use at all, so i couldnt reblog them on my main, but i have put them in the fic, so ig that works🤷🏻‍♀️ also, if i ever write a part 3 (which i might based on feedback) azzie would be the love interest <3

ALSO MY GIRLIE IS SO TALENTED DONT EVEN GET ME STARTED I LOVE THESE POEMS 🥹

(im also tagging people who asked for a part two hope u dont mind <3)

anyways, enjoyyyy!!

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

Lying on the ground, despite how it hurt her joints sometimes, was one of Y/n’s favourite pastimes. Maybe because sometimes she did not have the energy to crawl into her bed, but that was not the point.

They hate you.

The hardness of the wood panels was oddly comforting, the way the grains sometimes raised enough for her to feel them with her fingers, the soft creaking when she stepped on them. It reminded her that she was here, that she was alive. That she was getting what she deserved for being so pathetic.

The soft mattress did not give her the same level of comfort. Sure, it was warm and cozy, but did she deserve it?

No.

You deserve this.

You deserve the worst.

Y/n sniffled, lying on her side as she lifted her hand higher next to her, dragging her nails down the planks, the feeling overwhelming in itself but better than not feeling anything. She watched her fingers jerk with the motion, pale and bloodless.

She could feel her tears collecting in a pool and seeping under her cheek. She glanced at the foot of the bed in front of her.

It looks so majestic from down here.

Do people who are worse off think the same way about me?

I don’t want them to. Because I am not worth being thought of like that.

I am nothing. I am pathetic.

It became harder and harder to take in a breath from her nose, as it continued to grow clogged from all her sobbing.

It was one of her least favourite things about crying.

Pathetic.

Stop it!

You’re pathetic. Crying over nothing.

You don’t deserve anything good.

The thoughts kept echoing in her head, louder and louder. She couldn’t breathe any longer.

And it was not because of anything physical.

Her chest began to constrict, forcing her lungs to let out precious air. She tried to breathe it back in, desperately wishing to cling to any remnants of oxygen like a child clinging to its mothers skirts.

Please. Just one inhale.

Her throat tightened.

Just one.

She gasped, futilely trying to breathe one last time to breathe before she knew she would collapse, faint because of the lack of air in her body. It gave her some reprieve, and her eyes focused back to the bed.

The longer she stared at it, the more drowsy she became. Her eyelids were drooping, and she finally, finally decided that maybe letting herself submit to her body’s needs wouldn’t be too bad, if it meant that the thoughts would stop. Maybe if she gave in to the tiredness in her bones after hours of sobbing, her mind would stop being so cruel.

Maybe it would take pity on her.

Maybe.

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

"We should go out tomorrow!"

Y/n smiled a little. A rare smile that only recently had begun showing on her face.

It wouldn’t be considered a real smile. But it was still there on her face. The tilt of her lips.

We. Not me. We.

They wanted her to be present too.

Cassian jumped up, looking at Y/n with a grin. "I always wanted to take Y/n out to Rita’s."

Her smile grew.

The other members talked, making plans for tomorrow. Slowly, the conversation spiralled, as it always did between them all.

Azriel leaned close to Y/n, whispering jokes in her ear that made her giggle. Rhysand sat on the same couch as Cassian, fighting like children. Mor sat next to Amren, amusement shining in her eyes as she added fuel to the fire, while Amren looked like she’d rather be anywhere but here.

They talked well into the night, politics, food, court gossip bleeding into one another as the time trickled by.

But the moment the conversations wandered into their future, Y/n’s smile faded. She wondered, would they want her to stay in their life?

She didn’t have to wonder long, as the words they uttered were enough to give her peace.

They talked of vacations, of parties and new traditions. Of getting married, of being with their partners. Of celebrating lives and years and months, of celebrating ends and new beginnings.

They talked, and included her.

They talked in ‘we’s’. Not in ‘me’s’.

And that was enough for her little heart to be happy.

For it to heal, for the blood to return to her face.

For her to smile, free and unbidden.

But then, time passed. And just like the sand in an hourglass trickles away, so do all good things.

As she watched, the scene changed from only housing six people in the living room, to adding three more members. And slowly, she was pushed out.

And they began talking in ‘me’s’.

Some ‘we’s’, but it never meant Y/n.

No, it meant them. Them and their partners.

It meant Feyre and Rhysand. Their new lives and baby.

It meant Cassian and Nesta. Their new mating bond and blooming love.

It meant Azriel and Elain. Their growing infatuation.

Y/n doubted the infatuation had ended, as Azriel no longer sat next to Elain at dinners. Lucien’s visits to Velaris had increased too.

But everyone’s visits to Y/n and their thoughts about her had decreased. No one seemed to remember her existence.

And she deserved it.

They chatted among themselves, and the armchair she sat on vanished from under her, leaving her standing knee deep in the freezing snow. Watching from the outside as the warm interior that had seemed so welcoming just a moment ago turned into a nightmare.

Her worst nightmare.

It left her whimpering, leaving her to curl on the cold ground.

All alone, just like she deserved.

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

It was almost sunset, and finally, Rhysand had built up the determination to read the damned journal.

He walked downstairs, peering into the living room before stepping in front of it.

Mor had departed after Y/n had left, tears in her eyes. Azriel and Cassian had been sitting in the living room for the whole two hours since then, staring into space, looking haunted and horrified at the way they hadn’t realised what was going on with their friend. Amren too, sat in an armchair in the corner, looking as unbothered as ever. But Rhys saw the cracks. The shifting eyes, the too hard hold on the book she held in her lap, the downward tilt of her lips more pronounced.

"I think it’s time we read the journal."

Four sets of eyes shot up to his figure.

"Are you sure, Rhys?" Cassian mumbled, standing up uncertainly.

Rhys nodded. "It is the only option we have."

Azriel sighed, mirroring Cassian’s movements and moving closer to Rhysand.

Feyre perked up. "What is going on Rhys?"

He clenched his jaw, guilt and regret festering in his gut. He had been so busy in his newfound happiness, so wound up in enjoying every moment with his mate that he had forgotten family. He had forgotten her to the extent his mate didn’t even know what the slight tang of copper in the air meant.

"Nothing, Feyre." He mumbled, turning away.

"Elain was asking-"

"Tell her to stop asking, then." Rhysand froze at the coldness in Azriel’s voice, his eyes going wide. Azriel never used that tone of voice with anyone outside of work, let alone Feyre.

Feyre stepped back, her calves hitting the couch as she stared at her friend in shock. "Az?"

Azriel pushed past Rhysand, making his way towards his study where the journal sat, looking as frustrated and unapologetic as ever.

After a shared glance, Rhysand and Cassian followed, Amren hot on their heels.

Azriel was already seated in one of the chairs at Rhysand’s mahogany desk, his eyes fixed on the journal that lay in the middle, his jaw clenched. He seemed to be the most affected, and Rhys only had the faintest idea why.

The four of them sat in waiting until Mor finally arrived, shutting the door behind her. Her eyes were bloodshot, and she sniffled lightly as she came to stand next to Cassian.

"Rhys, do we really have to read it? It will be an invasion of privacy."

Rhys swallowed. Thought it over. "We don’t really have a choice, do we? We need to figure out the root of this. She won’t tell us if we ask, we know that. Plus, she might already be way down the path of another breakdown after what happened today."

"That is why I think that instead of sitting around on our arses," Azriel ground out, "we should go and check up on her."

Rhys raised a brow, though concern festered in his gut. "Azriel, we’ve been through this before. She will feel worse about herself, thinking she inconvenienced us."

A muscle feathered in Azriel’s jaw, but he said nothing.

And so they began reading.

Rhysand opened a random page, his breath catching at the sudden tang of copper, and began reading. As he stared at the words before speaking them aloud, he remembered seeing the exact poem in a book he recommended to Y/n over fifty years ago.

Forgotten.That is my nameThat is the path I walkIt has been so longI don’t remember what it is like to be seenAnd I spill, my tears lining the path to the woods where my body lies,Forgotten.- from GardenofRunar

Instantly, Rhysand’s blood ran cold. He leaned back, exhaling. The pages were decorated in flowers and hearts, tiny little clouds and doodles in the margins so at odds with the thoughts spilled onto them like a hauntingly beautiful scenery.

At this point, Cassian and the others had moved to peer over Rhys’s shoulder. Rhys watched as Cassan reached over to turn the page with a shaky hand, pulling it back almost instantly as if the page had burned him. There, just above the words was a small handful of doodles, and he knew the small figures resembled the inner circle before Rhys had been taken under the mountain.

The poem was more a letter than anything, except it contained so few letters but thy hit everyone with a guilt so hard it was almost like a mountain fell onto them.

So like Y/n, to say so less yet still make an impact.

I didn’t forget about you.Can you say the same for me?Don’t bother.I know the answer.-GardenOfRunar

Under the poem, were a few words.

The poet is so talented. Every poem of them I read, it makes me want to sob.Maybe because I relate to these. Maybe that’s why.

Quiet sniffles came from Mor, but Rhys turned another page. It was the first page where blood began dotting the corners, a few drops on the center of the page veining out towards the edges, as if trying to exit but being unable to.

The almost poeticness of the sight was not lost on them. The blood droplets were almost like Y/n, trying to escape a cruel mind but unable to.

My friends are living lives, and I’m trudging through a million little days,Wasting away.- GardenofRunar

A hand snaked towards the book, slamming it shut. Rhysand jumped, his eyes flying to the owner of the scarred hand that appeared.

"Enough." His voice was still, quiet, but so cold it could freeze even the summer court over. And Rhysand knew. He was blaming himself for not paying attention to Y/n.

Rhys nodded, feeling guiltier by the second.

Everyone went back to their places, sitting in silence. Contemplating.

Wondering how they had become so oblivious to the point that they couldn’t see what was right in front of them the entire time.

The regret, the sadness was heavy in the air. It was getting hard to breathe it in.

Finally, Azriel stood, grabbing the book.

Then he turned, and walked out the door without a word, his wings pulled tight against his back.

And Rhysand wondered again.

Was this just some friendly concern, some self blame, or something else entirely?

Needless to say, suspicion took root. But guilt and hate overwhelmed it once more, and the family was left to sit and roil in it.

To wonder, how could they have been so busy that they ignored such an important part of them?

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

(ps. the first part in the memories/dreams Y/n has is based off this poem

You talk in ‘we’s’ Not ‘me’s’ And it heals my heart, just a little. Puts a smile on my face, just a little. You talk about a future One with me in it And I feel the color Return to my face. Just a little. - Runar

)

@velarisnightsky444 @fasoaurore @anainkandpaper @urfunnyvalentin3 @gabbiskylar01

Permanent Taglist: @berryzxx @sarawritestories @milswrites @throneofsmut

@daycourtofficial @sweetorangeblossom @serenescureforboredom @cassie6392 @harrystylesfan2686

@olives-main @hijabi-desi-bookworm @dnfhascorruptedme

Acotar Taglist: @bubybubsters @eos-princess @nightless @harrystylesfan2686

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[yua0ra]

𝐓𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐦𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞… 𝐰𝐚𝐢𝐭, 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭?

WARNINGS: theodore nott x hufflepuff!fem!reader, speechless!theo (lol), bold reader, mentions of weed, mentions of mattheo riddle, SFW, not proofread. english is not my first language.

miscellaneous ☆

SUMMARY: House stereotypes don’t define the personality of a student, more the values and the attitude that they are more likely to lean on. Theo learns this when he has to leave his shyness aside and ask you for a little favor.

WC: 2.7K AN: My first Theo blog! SO thrilled! More to come tho :)

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓:

Theodore Nott has hit his breaking point. His Herbology final is around the corner, and despite hours of studying, he feels so annoyingly unprepared. It’s the one subject where he truly needs help, and it couldn’t have come at a worse time.

Enzo, his usually reliable study buddy, is knee-deep in preparing for his practical exam in Care of Magical Creatures. Mattheo, on the other hand, has absolutely no interest in anything beyond the most basic knowledge of plants, only venturing into the greenhouse when he’s collecting a bit of weed for his own purposes. Draco and Blaise? Well, they’re too wrapped up in their own world, more concerned with their latest gossip than anything remotely academic. Pansy? Yeah, that’s not even an option.

So, Theo’s left with one option:

You.

The sweet, intelligent Hufflepuff who most definitely knows how to have fun, attending literally each and every party that the school has thrown yet when required, sits in the corner of the library, your nose buried in a book, always so effortlessly composed. The one person in the entire school who seems to have a natural talent for Herbology.

You’ve caught his eye for a while now, but he’s too shy, too nervous to approach you. He spends far too much time admiring you from afar, but that’s all he’s ever done—watching you as you confidently navigate through the subject he struggles with, never knowing how to bridge the gap between you two.

Desperation is a powerful motivator, though. He’s tried every other option and failed. With no other choice, Theo finds himself standing outside the entrance to the Hufflepuff common room, heart pounding, mind racing. He rehearses what he’ll say in his head—should he be casual? Straightforward? Or maybe play it off like it’s no big deal? But the words don’t seem to come.

The thing is, despite his reputation, despite his intimidating family name and the distance he keeps from others, there’s something about you that disarms him completely. You’re not like the others. You’re kind, warm, and so elegant, so put together, it leaves him feeling self-conscious about his own fumbling attempts at social interaction.

But there’s no other way. He’s backed into a corner. Theo takes a deep breath, pushes past his nerves, and steps forward. It’s now or never.

“Hey Mate! You coming or what?“ He looks up, a friendly Hufflepuff holding the door for him.

Truly, they are nice. A Slytherin would never, ever, invite another fellow student into their sacred den.

Theo hesitates, wondering if he’s made a huge mistake. What if you turn him away? What if you laugh at him for asking such a stupid thing? His heart pounds louder in his chest as he takes another step forward, determined to follow through.

He finds the common room in a quiet lull—no loud chatter, no bustle of students. Only the soft crackling of the fire in the hearth and the occasional rustle of pages turning. Then he sees you. You’re curled up in an armchair near the window, your bright eyes scanning a textbook, and for a moment, Theo stands there, just watching. The way the warm light from the fire dances off your hair, the way you lean in slightly as you read—it’s all so hypnotising, so you.

His throat tightens, and he suddenly feels foolish for not having prepared more. The sharpness of his thoughts cuts through the haze of nervousness, and he realizes this is exactly why he’s never managed to speak to you before. He’s always been too scared. Too unsure.

But before he can talk himself out of it, he’s already moving toward you. His footsteps are quiet, almost tentative, but you notice him as he approaches, lifting your head to meet his eyes. That instant eye contact is enough to send his stomach into a nervous knot, but he forces himself to stand tall.

“Hey, uh… I, uh… Could I ask you a favor?” Theo’s voice cracks slightly as he starts, and he curses himself internally. Why does he have to sound so awkward?

There’s a curious expression in your eyes, as though you weren’t expecting him to ask but aren’t exactly surprised either. You raise an eyebrow, and a small smile plays on your lips.

“If you’re looking for Enzo, he’s with Hagrid right now,” you begin, your voice calm, like you’re relaying a mundane piece of information, and Theo blinks in confusion, sitting down opposite of you but waiting for the rest. “And if you’d like to know where the stash is, it’s behind the Angelicas,” you continue, as if you’re discussing the placement of a few plants rather than something a bit more illegal, that could defiantly get you expelled.

You pause and then add, “I mean, I had to relocate the whole plantation because before, it was under the Venomous Tentacula, and more often than not, instead of getting high, students would get fucking poisoned.”

Theo freezes, his eyes widening in shock. His brain is still trying to catch up with the strange, casual way you’ve just dropped that bit of information. The weed, students getting poisoned. He blinks again, as though his mind needs to reset. “Wait, you’ve been… what?” he finally stammers, unsure of how to respond.

You laugh softly, clearly enjoying the bewildered expression on his face, and lean back in your chair a little, letting the firelight cast a warm glow over your face. “Yeah, it’s been a bit of a headache,” you continue, your tone light and almost mocking, but there’s a sharpness to your words that makes Theo realize you’re completely in control of the situation.

“At first, I had to move everything under the Tentacula because it was… well, convenient, you know? Students wouldn’t even dare to try to steal. But then the bloody thing started getting violent. I lost two strains and a few students before Mattheo and I figured it out.” You chuckle again, shaking your head as if it were just another mishap to add to your long list of Hufflepuff gardening troubles.

Theo freezes, his jaw going slack as his mind races to process your words. Mattheo? He blinks rapidly, trying to make sense of what you just said. Mattheo, his best mate, the guy who couldn’t be bothered to do anything that didn’t directly benefit him, was working with you? In the greenhouse? With you—a Hufflepuff, the sweet, hot and intelligent, did he mentioned hot, student he’d always admired from afar?

“Wait—Mattheo?” Theo stammers, his brain still struggling to catch up. “You and Mattheo are… working together? In the greenhouse?” He couldn’t quite wrap his mind around the idea.

You raise an eyebrow, amused at his reaction. “Oh, yes. He’s actually surprisingly useful when it comes to problem-solving. I’m not saying he’s a botanist or anything, but we managed to figure out how to move the stash without getting caught. I have to give him some credit for that.” You laugh again, enjoying Theo’s stunned expression, as if this were all just another normal part of your life.

He slowly blinks, processing your strange perception of his friend. “Mattheo? Useful? I mean—really?” His voice is a mixture of disbelief and awe. “That’s—uh, that’s not the Mattheo I know.”

You shrug, a wry smile on your face. “Trust me, I was shocked, too. But it turns out he has a knack for finding creative solutions when he’s not too distracted by… other things.” Your smile turns sly, and Theo gets the sense that you’re holding something back, something more than just the simple partnership you’ve described. But the fact that you and Mattheo are so involved with each other in this capacity makes something in him shift—a mix of surprise, confusion, and maybe just a hint of jealousy, though he can’t quite place it.

“Honestly,” you continue, your tone dropping slightly, “he’s actually been a pretty good ally. He knows how to be discreet when it comes to things like this—he’s good at keeping his mouth shut when necessary. You’d be surprised, really.”

‘Yeah, he has definitely kept his mouth shut in regards of whatever this is’ Theo thinks and he can’t help but laugh, though it’s tinged with disbelief. “I’ve never once thought I’d hear those words come out of your mouth, especially about him,” he mutters, half in awe, half in confusion. “But—really, the greenhouse? You’ve been doing all of this behind the scenes?.”

You nod, leaning back in your chair slightly, your gaze flicking to the fire. “Yep. It’s been a bit of a secret, but I’m used to keeping things under wraps. Some of us prefer to stay low-key, y’know?“ You flash him a teasing smile, and for a moment, Theo wonders if maybe he’s been misjudging the quiet Hufflepuff house all along.

Theo tries to process the revelation. His mind is still spinning, trying to picture Mattheo in the middle of it all, acting as some sort of ally to you, when he can barely even manage to get through his homework without drama. “I… wow. This is a lot to take in,” he admits, rubbing the back of his neck as he lets out a deep breath. “You and Mattheo? That… doesn’t make sense, but it kind of does?”

And it actually does make sense. You’re fucking fit, party girl at heart, cool but apparently laid back, so yeah. He could see why Mattheo had taken an interest in you.

“Well, there’s a lot more to me than just a green thumb,” you say with a grin, obviously enjoying watching him try to piece it all together. “But I’ve must misjudged your reasons as to you approaching me,” you say, the teasing in your tone softening just a bit, “so tell me, Nott,”—and now you flash him a smile, that sweet, knowing smile that makes Theo’s heart skip a beat—“what’s the favour?”

Theo’s throat tightens at the question. The heat rises to his face, a little caught off guard by how smoothly you’ve shifted the focus back on him.

“I—uh, I—” Theo starts, then stops himself, taking a breath. He needs to focus. Focus on the fact that he did come to you for help.

But something about the way you’re looking at him—your eyes sparkling with amusement—makes it hard to think straight. He stares at you for a beat, trying to compose himself, but you’re so easygoing, so effortlessly you, that it’s like you’re pulling him into a side of the world he didn’t know existed.

“I… I really need help with Herbology,” he admits, his voice finally steadying, though it’s clear there’s an under-layer of shyness somewhere in between. “I’m kind of screwed if I don’t get this right. I just—I figured… you’re the best person to ask.” He forces a small, awkward laugh, trying to cover the tension that’s building in his chest.

You watch him, your gaze steady, and something in the way he stumbles over his words makes a knowing smile curl at your lips. There’s a certain vulnerability to Theo that’s only just beginning to peek through, and it’s clear to you that he’s not just here for Herbology help. Maybe he started that way, but now—well, now something else is bubbling underneath.

“Is that all?” you ask, tilting your head slightly, watching the way his cheeks flush with that mix of embarrassment and nervous energy. The way he keeps trying to brush it off, but you know he’s not as composed as he likes to pretend. “You don’t seem like the kind of person who gets rattled by plants.”

Theo shifts uncomfortably in his seat, rubbing the back of his neck again, and you can’t help but find it endearing. He’s trying so hard to play it cool, but it’s obvious he’s a little out of his depth. “I’m not,” he mutters, the words a little quieter now, the walls he tries to put up crumbling just a bit more. “It’s just… I really need to pass this exam. And you’re the best at this stuff.”

You smile again, but this time it’s realer, like you’re letting him breathe for a bit, seeing the genuine panic beneath the surface. “I know,” you say with a quiet confidence, your tone soothing him, almost like you’re comforting him without meaning to. “I’ll help you. It’s not a big deal.”

Theo looks at you, grateful but still a little lost. You seem so calm, so sure of yourself. It’s almost like you’re made of something he can’t quite figure out.

“I… appreciate it,” he says, his voice quieter now, but still genuine. He leans back in his chair, looking down at his hands for a moment, unsure what else to say. But his mind keeps wandering to the way you look at him—how you’ve kept him off balance with your easy smile, the casual way you talk about everything. “I don’t know, it just feels like I’ve got no idea what I’m doing half the time.”

You raise an eyebrow, not letting him off the hook that easily. “Really? You seem like someone who knows exactly what they’re doing most of the time.” The teasing lilt is back in your voice, but there’s something almost… tender underneath it. “Or maybe you just like pretending?”

Theo doesn’t know whether to laugh or be more embarrassed, so he does a little bit of both. “I guess pretending is easier,” he admits, the words coming out before he can stop them, and there’s a quiet honesty in his tone that catches you off guard. “But… you’re not what I expected.”

You look at him curiously, the firelight from the hearth casting a warm glow across your face. “What did you expect, exactly?”

He hesitates for just a moment, before speaking slowly, almost carefully, like he’s weighing each word. “I don’t know. Someone… different. Someone more… Hufflepuffy?” He chuckles awkwardly at the last part, trying to sound casual, but the truth is, he’s starting to realize that he doesn’t really know what he expected. You’ve made him question everything he thought he knew about you, and now all he can do is stare at you in a sort of awe.

You let the silence hang in the air for a beat, your lips curling into a smirk. “Hufflepuffy?” you echo, sounding amused but with a touch of challenge. “So what, you think just because I’m a Hufflepuff, I’m supposed to be all flowers and rainbows? Just because I know how to work with plants and enjoy life doesn’t mean I don’t have a little bit of edge, Nott.”

Theo looks up at you, his heart pounding a little faster, the realization hitting him full force. “Yeah,” he mutters, half to himself, “I guess I didn’t expect you to be this… cool.”

You smile at that, the corners of your lips tilting up in a way that makes his chest feel a little tight. “Cool, huh? I’ll take that.”

For a moment, there’s a soft pause, the tension between the two of you shifting, the way your eyes meet his, the way your smile holds a little bit more meaning, and the way his pulse races just a bit faster. It’s something else, something that’s starting to make him question everything he thought he knew about himself, too.

“So, uh,” Theo says, his voice suddenly feeling a little hoarse, unsure of what to say next. “Do you want to… get started on the exam stuff?”

You nod, leaning in just slightly, but there’s an air of something unspoken between you now, something neither of you has said aloud. “Yeah. Let’s get started.”

But as you begin to pull out your Herbology notes and you start discussing the plants and the key terms for the exam, the words seem almost secondary.

The way your fingers brush against his when you hand him a diagram. The way your laughter makes him feel like he’s somehow stumbled into a world he wasn’t prepared for but doesn’t want to leave. Everything feels just a little more alive, a little more charged than it ever has before.

And as Theo looks at you again—at the calm, effortless way you move through the conversation—he realizes that what he thought was just a favor for a Herbology exam is turning into something much more… complicated. And for the first time in a long time, he’s not sure he’s ready to figure it all out. But something about that uncertainty feels exciting.

[wendichester]

Hiii! I love your blog <3

May I request Sam and Dean x reader (could be together, could be sepperate, I don't mind, as long as it's with established relationship) where reader has a few piercings and always wears like lots of rings and bracelets and does her own nails constantly?

I was thinking for piercings like, a bunch in the ears, either angel fangs or snake bites (I'm a sucker for lip piercings), tongue piercing, maybe even a septum?

Tysm!!

⋆ ִֶָ ๋𓂃 pierced,

summary. just another day at the bunker being cooler than sam and dean combined together

pairing. dean winchester x reader x sam winchester

wordcount. 418

notes. i just feel like an oc like this would leave them fumbling and stumbling over their feet. such cuties

The sound of metal clinking against metal fills the bunker as you slip on your favorite rings, stacking them on nearly every finger. A collection of bracelets dangles from your wrists, jingling softly with each movement. You’re sitting cross-legged at the war room table, carefully painting your nails a deep, glossy black, utterly focused on the task at hand.

Dean leans against the doorframe, arms crossed, watching you with an amused grin. “Y’know, sweetheart, you’ve got more hardware on you than my car.”

You smirk without looking up, blowing lightly on your freshly painted nails. “And I wear it better, too.”

Sam chuckles from his spot at the table, where he’s buried in research. His eyes flicker over to you, a fond smile tugging at his lips. “It’s impressive, honestly. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you without at least five rings on.”

“Seven, actually,” you correct, holding up your hands to show off the intricate silver bands adorning your fingers.

Dean pushes off the doorframe and walks over, tilting his head to examine you more closely. His eyes linger on your lip piercings—the angel fangs glinting in the light—and the small hoop in your septum. “Doesn’t all that metal get annoying?” he asks, though his tone is more curious than critical.

“Nope,” you reply, popping the “p” as you set down the nail polish bottle. “I like how it feels. And it looks cool, right?”

Dean’s eyes narrow playfully. “You fishing for compliments, or what?”

You raise an eyebrow, leaning back in your chair with a confident smirk. “Maybe.”

Sam snorts, shaking his head. “She doesn’t need to fish. You’ve been staring at her like she’s a shiny new toy since she sat down.”

Dean shoots him a glare. “Yeah, well, you’re not any better, Mr. Puppy-Dog Eyes.”

Your cheeks warm slightly, but you roll your eyes to cover it up. “You two are impossible.”

Dean grins, leaning down to press a kiss to the corner of your mouth, careful not to smudge your freshly painted nails. “And you love it.”

You can’t help but laugh, swatting at him lightly. “Lucky for you, I do.”

“Alright, lovebirds,” Sam says, spinning his chair around and sitting on it backward. “How about you finish your nails, and we grab a beer after? I think we’ve earned it.”

You smile, picking up the nail polish again. “Deal. But don’t think this gets you out of complimenting me later.” You playfully glare at Dean.

Dean smirks. “Wouldn’t dream of it, sweetheart.”

want be part of the taglist.ᐣ ⋆.˚ ★— @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing ⋆ @deans-daydream ⋆ @ariasong11 ⋆ @ambiguous-avery ⋆ @krabog ⋆ @itsdearapril ⋆ @whereiwakewarm ⋆ @nymphet-quenn ⋆ @bluemerakis ⋆ @titsout4jackles ⋆ @lyarr24 ⋆ @hauntedrose555 ⋆ @chevroletdean ⋆ @dulcescorderitas ⋆ @blackmarketfruitrollups ⋆ @impala67rollingthroughtown ⋆ @rulesareshadesofgrey ⋆ @nervoussystemss ⋆ @daryls-luvrr ⋆ @defnot-svnshine ⋆ @sunnyteume

[sergeifyodorov]

Hi!

This is maybe a bit left of field, but I love your blog and you seem very knowledgeable so maybe you (or one of your followers?) have an idea.

Can you recommend some reading material on sports in general? It can absolutely be hockey related but I’m talking sort of bigger scope. More specifically, how (team) sports relate to society as a whole, what role it plays for humanity, maybe it’s history? What about the fan culture?

For context, I come from a pretty academic family where growing up there was this all encompassing prejudice of “it’s for stupid people” (which is clearly stupid in itself). I guess I’m trying to break the mold, but all of it is culturally very new to me.

It can be books, articles, essays, anything.

I realise I sound like a nerd, but. Maybe?

I love this q!!! I'm going to list some of my favourites, but I also haven't read everything (or even most things) so I'll leave it open to the floor to add to. If you have recs for this anon, please reblog with additions!

Moneyball by Michael Lewis and its semi-not-really sequel Big Data Baseball by Travis Sawchik are about the analytics revolutions in baseball - Moneyball about the original one that sparked from amateur mathematician Bill James' writings, and Big Data about the inception of the Statcast era about fifteen years later.

The Game by Ken Dryden is a biography by one of the greatest goalies and minds ever to play the sport. I would recommend almost anything written by Dryden, but this is really his masterwork.

17776 is a work of fiction written by Jon Bois, but I feel like it fits within the scope of your question anyway - thematically it seeks to ask and answer why we play sports and what they mean to us. It's also written and presented online for free and you can just google it, so you don't have to hunt through your libraries or buy a copy!

The Game of Our Lives by Peter Gzowski is a rarer one, especially if you're not Canadian, but I have a personal connection so I'll always recommend it anyway. It's written about Wayne Gretzky during his initial NHL season, and examines the way we think of greatness, what makes hockey players great (on a technical as well as social level), and the ideal of a Great Hockey Player as it relates to Canadian national identity.

Along that thread, I'll finally recommend the works of sociologist Kristi Allain, who's written multiple papers on the construction of Canadian identity both within hockey and within media discussing it, and the socialization and experiences of Canadian and non-Canadian hockey players.

[foreverdolly]

Intolerance cannot be beaten with tolerance. 

I have always written and read as a means to escape from my day to day life, even before the struggles of adulthood was even a blip on the horizon. This blog is a safe space for me. I love hearing that my writing, despite the fact that it is nothing but fanfiction (for now, at least), helps people escape for a little while as well. Whether you’re reading before bed in order to silence your mind for long enough to get some shut eye or pulling up tumblr during a rough and emotional day, somewhere along the way you found your way to me. I cherish the fact that our paths have crossed like this. 

Right now, more than ever, the world feels like a very terrifying place. I hate the idea of lifting the finely tuned veil that I have tried to cast over this blog, what with it being my safe little corner of the internet, but silence is complacency. I refuse to be complacent to what is going on right now in the United States of America. When I woke up on November sixth there was an impending sense of dread. As a woman who had listened to the vitriol from the other side, I was naturally terrified. Waking up and seeing “your body, my choice” plastered on every social media site was nothing short of horrific. There is no woman or girl in this world that has not been violated in some way by a man, whether that be physically, verbally or emotionally. 

I look at the hateful rhetoric disguised as Christian love- pastors preaching about eradicating the queer community. About taking away a woman’s bodily autonomy. About ripping children away from their parents. They paint the progressive thinkers to be monsters. To that I say: who are truly the monsters?

We are more worried about banning drag queen story times than protecting our youth who are being killed whilst trying to do something as innocent as receive an education. Our people are living paycheck to paycheck and we're more focused on stripping people's basic human rights away from them than uplifting the impoverished.

This country takes away social media platforms or buys them out all together as a means to monitor the speech and behavior of its people. It dictates how we will raise and teach our children all while forcing them to assimilate to a consciousness of their own design. Women are dying every day due to health complications. Transgender youth and adults would rather eternally sleep than put up with the constant harassment and erasure. The gay and lesbian communities are having their way of life threatened. . . and for what? 

The states have never seemed this divided. It is no longer a difference of politics but a difference of morals. Beyond even that, it is a total lack of empathy. The vocabulary being thrown around by that side is eye opening: “eradicate”,“purge”,“the reckoning” etc. 

Fear mongering is something that I absolutely abhor, but I truly mean it when I say that these next four years are going to be rough. I am certain that the rules and regulations that will be put into place will affect us for many years to come. We are going backwards- back to a time where people of color were terrified to leave their own homes because of the threat of violence. A time where people couldn’t love who they wanted. A time where women had rights stripped away from them and were seen as little other than cattle. 

If there was ever a time to fight then now would be that time. We all have a voice, no matter how quiet. Use it. 

Reject racism. Reject sexism. Reject classism.

This blog is a safe space for those that are genderqueer, queer, and of color. We are trapped. The fire is coming from inside of the house and sadly we can no longer save those that are throwing themselves into it as kindling. 

If you are scared and need someone to talk to please message me. I will give you my personal discord so that we can chat regularly if you need someone on your side right now.

If you feel alone please know that you are not. 

[absolutebl]

hiii I hope I'm doing this correctly! I haven't been on Tumblr in ages but I stumbled upon your posts and would love to hear your recommendations for spicy bls that are realistic with not many goofy sound effects like in Thai bls. By spicy I mean shows or movies that do include some intimacy... I really enjoyed the pornographer, the cornered mouse dreams of cheese and my beautiful man. I don't mind the show being happy, I just want it to feel real. Jbls tend to be my preference lately because of that. TY

Spicy Realistic BLs with No Camp Aspects

similar to: Pornographer, The Cornered Mouse Dreams of Cheese, My Beautiful Man

Here's a short list of more recent stuff, since lots of my posts on this are somewhat (I put a star* next to the ones I think you'll especially like)

This Love Doesn't Have Long Beans

My Stand-In*

Jack and Joker

Deep Night

Every You Every Me

Unknown*

Love Sea

City of Stars (pulp warning)

At 25:00, in Alaska AKA 25 Ji, Akasaka de

To Be Continued

Step By Step

The Eighth Sense*

Jun and Jun

My Personal Weatherman AKA Taikan Yoho*

Love is Better the Second Time Around AKA Koi wo Suru nara Nidome ga Joto*

Bed Friend*

Never Let Me Go

Moonlight Chicken*

Between Us

Tokyo in April is AKA Shigatsu no Tokyo wa*

FYI I had to eliminate quite a few (like Pit Babe, Two Worlds, and The Sign, I Feel You Linger in the Air) because of your "realistic" restriction. That said I think you would REALLY enjoy IFYLITA.

More obscure and historic BLs

Older post: Everything not Thai qualifies, and some of the higher rated Thai stuff on this list:

Everything mentioned on this list also applies:

These BLs are all quite realistic, but may not always have high heat:

FYI

Hope that's helpful. There should be some stuff you haven't seen before.

(source)

[ambeauty]

I never intended for there to be any public drama, when I addressed my concerns with the actions of that blog with their co-host. My intentions were to ensure that the Black woman co-host felt comfortable working with someone who has been harmful to the fandom with many of their own posts.

In the latest episode the DMs between the co-host and myself were mentioned several times but only one screenshot of conversation has been made public and that is for a reason. I can post the screenshots of my messages since you know there's no need to hide this interaction anymore and also more damning receipts of the some of the harmful things that person has done on their blog, but up until this point I have kept to myself because that was not my intention.

My intention has always been to protect Black women/people. That includes Ayo, that includes Sydney, and that includes the ones that I am in community with in this fandom. And that protection also extends to any other person who has felt harmed by this person in the fandom. Something that nobody asked me to do. The people that I spoke up for didn't even know that I was speaking because again I didn't do it with the intention of having to address any of this publicly. If I did I would've just come out and said this person is harmful and you should not support them.

So now that I have been called all manners of bitch, sneaky, nasty, and villainized (of course a BW calling out harmful behavior has led to this, like clockwork) I would like to know if the people in this fandom would like me to detail where that person has been harmful, with evidence to support it. Again I never have to speak to this person. Don't want to. I want this place to be SAFE. But if you feel like you want extra context and want to be clear on why this "drama" came to be I can provide it.

[simp4konig]

Goodbye, tumblr.

Hey, everyone!

It's been a while since I've updated — and, I'll have you know, that this will be the last time that I'll be updating.

From 20th August 2023 to 9th November 2024 I've been posting fanfictions: first, with König; then, once with Ghost; finally, with Nikto. As of right now, I have 770 followers. At some point, I even had over 850.

First of all, thank you for these last seventeen months. Initially, I was a lurker here on tumblr. Aside from a single short, obscure fanfiction with König, I didn't post much else — that is, until @puff0o0 inspired me with her self-aware König au.

My self-aware König fanfiction exploded, and it remains my most popular post to this day. My other successes have been "König mistakenly shooting you on the battlefield" and "Intimate König headcanons". Another of my all-time most popular posts was "Zombie Apocalypse AU with Ghost" — that one made a lot of you cry. I am not sorry. Thank you for sharing your emotions with me, because seeing your comments made me smile, and satisfied that my work was poignant enough to invoke so many tears in many of you.

Finally, for Nikto, my "General headcanons", "Flirtatious Reader x ...Dense? Nikto", "Obsessed! Nikto", "Fem! Reader Asking Nikto To Clasp Her Bra", and "Reader fussing over Nikto's injury" all were popular, and these posts in particular received a lot of feedback, comments, reblogs, and asks afterwards, which I am thankful for.

My decision to quit tumblr isn't impulsive — I've been considering this ever since the AI craze was trending and the several times that COD drama was prevalent. Other reasons include the fact that I am bombarded with goddamn porn and NSFW content as soon as I open the app, wasting time scrolling absentmindedly when I could be more productive and accomplish something more, loss of interest in COD, loss of interest in posting publicly, a phobia of having my work copied and/or stolen, as well as my envy of other creators, which can write two paragraphs and receive thousands of notes, while I can pour my heart and soul into my stories, and receive a few hundred — the last point in particular was the most discouraging.

While all of these are factors contributing to my choice to leave, there's one that's far simpler than any of them: I just don't feel like it anymore.

Truth be told, writing has been and always will be a hobby. This blog was initially a hobby which I indulged in, yet it overtime became a chore. Nowadays, posting has been less for pleasure and more to satisfy you guys, because I hate to deprive you of content when you follow me and have been loyal for so long.

That's not to say that I'm quitting writing! Not at all. I'll still be writing! Writing stories is still my passion, as is reading. I just won't be posting publicly anymore.

Thank you all for supporting me during my teen years. 16 was — contrary to what pop culture would lead you to believe — not sweet. I'll be 18 soon, and the interactions that I've had with you all have shaped my view of people, and I have received so many kind comments, personal messages, asks, and reblogs. And no, I am not 18. I was 15 when I made this blog. Writing has been my passion since I was 12, or so? Since I have nothing to lose, I might as well be honest with everyone now.

Now, the thank yous to my mutuals:

@puff0o0 — was life a celebrity to me when I first started writing. 😱 When you followed me back, I was so so happy! You were my best friend, and even if we've drifted apart, I still wish you all the best. 🫂💞🩷💗��️💖✨

@m-carriaga2021 — my first ever follower! 🥳🎉🎊

@best-soup — someone who was kind when I first started out, which meant a lot to me. ❤️💗🩷

@lvl3r-002 — my own No.1 fan?!! What an honour!!! 🥹🥹🥹 Thanks for your unconditional support and encouragement, Azzy. ❤️❤️❤️

@muffinscoffee, @allaboutirem0, @simpforkonig, @dustycrusty09, @thestirringpot, @god-o-bees — left comments which made me smile. ☺️💞💞💞

@nevadancitizen — wrote a self-aware au fanfiction inspired by me?!! 😭💘💘 Your reblogs were wonderful, too. The notes, comments, and even analysis that you added in the tags were really meaningful, and such feedback was so, so kind. 🥹💖✨

@aethelwyneleigh27 — also like a celebrity to me. I was SHOOK when I found out that you were following me?!! 😭😭😭💞💖 Will forever remember our boop wars. 🤭🩷😽😻🐾

@dobbie-doo — randomly started messaging me out of the blue on tumblr, and over-time, we became good friends. Thank you. 🤍❤️💙

@tomurderornottomurder — I couldn't stop thinking about your reblog of my Zombie Apocalypse AU with Ghost for a week straight. I'd open tumblr just to reread the tags. 🥹💗💞🩷

@zoloftwithdrawalnausea — an amazing artist. How I received the privilege of being mutuals with such a talented individual as yourself boggles the mind, honestly. 🤯💥 Wishing you all the best with all your studies, and maybe you'll one day meet your 100 Niktos goal! 🥰❤️💕💞🩷✍️

@willthegrouch — another exceptional artist. I have no fucking clue how I managed to become mutuals with someone who's painting digital masterpieces. 🤯💥 Good luck in your future, and all the best in your art. 🩷🙏

@dom-lly — Again?!! Another brilliant artist?!! 😭😭😭 When I got followed back I right about DIED. 🪦 Your art for Jujutsu Kaisen is SO fucking GOOD (and that isn't selling it enough). I have never watched JJK but seeing your art occasionally pop up was wonderful. Your work is awesome. 👏👏👏💖

@unhingedpolycule — amazing artist and witty writer. Love Love LOVEEE all of your content about Krueger x Nikto. Not only is your art stupendous, but your writing and ideas are clever, too. It was an honour to be your mutual. 🩷🩷🩷

@goarristars — you produce stunning artworks and I consider your rendition of Nikto's face as canon, full-stop. No one can tell me otherwise. 🗣️‼️ Your work is awesome, and I hope that you continue to pursue art, as you're really talented. 🎨❤️💛💚

Quiet lurkers include @marigoldpollen, @eevee-of-eternity, @miss-multi45, @bellaluvsmakarov, and @shroompette — I noticed you, and thank you for being here! ❤️❤️❤️

Thank you to @revnatheshadow for your support and kind words, @kawaiiexpertcowboy for sending me a message and telling me how much you liked the Ghost faction, and @honeyandbiscuitandtea-cafe for your spam — unexpected, but extremely nice to see after having been absent for so long! ❤️❤️❤️

@itsagrimm — we've drifted apart, but it's for the best, since I was never sincere about my age to anyone, and not to you, either. Still, I will never forget our exchanges about Nikto and Metro that made us good friends for a while. Without meaning to, you taught me a lot about life, opened my eyes and made me less close-minded, offered me a ton of information I hadn't previously known, been strong support for me when things were rough with my parents, and have been kind, witty, clever, patient, interesting, and inspiring. Sure, you could say that you're ordinary and not extraordinary enough to be an inspiration, but you are to me. I'm actually studying Law now in college, and it's super interesting! I'm predicted to have an A*, and it's achievable! My dream is to study Russian alongside Spanish at university, and get a Modern Languages Degree. Thank you for everything — I wish you all the best.

And thank you to all of my followers — those that have been following me from the start, are still following me, were followers but unfollowed, and the recent ones.

Thank you everyone. For everything.

And goodbye.

[putschki1969]

Kalafina Anniversary Live 2025 Pamphlet HQ Scans Part 3

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Google Drive Link

👉  For PERSONAL USE ONLY 👉  CREDIT me and LINK to my blog if you use/share 👉  SUPPORT Kalafina | BUY the pamphlet

Interview with Hikaru

--This will be Kalafina's first live performance in about seven years. How did you feel when you found out that the concert was going to be held?

"Various emotions were going through my mind at the same time, but to sum it up in one sentence, I felt like 'we can do this'. I was beyond happy that the three of us would be able to sing Kalafina's music again, that it was actually becoming a reality. Six years had passed, so I was excited to see what would happen if the three of us sang together again."

--How did you feel when the three of you first got together to sing during a live rehearsal?

"Along with nostalgia, it brought back memories of Kalafina's chorus work. When the three of us sing together, it just feels so right. Over the past six years, I've had the opportunity to sing with many different people while working solo, but I think there is a unique sound and energy in each song that only the three of us can create."

--What did the three of you talk about during the first rehearsal?

"We had a packed schedule for our rehearsals so we weren't able to have any particularly deep discussions. We thought, 'let's just try to get in tune with each other,' so we spent our time singing with the image of regaining the feeling of being Kalafina."

--Were you able to quickly get back into the swing of things with Kalafina?

"I immediately remembered how it felt back then. However, because we had been apart for a while, even though I was able to regain that feeling, I felt that it would take a little more time to express those feelings through my singing. Those first few rehearsals really helped me see what I needed to do from now on."

--So it was necessary to re-examine what you need to do to sing as a member of Kalafina?

"That's right. We have a renewed sense of determination to do our best. Naturally, the time and experience each of us has gained working as solo artists comes into play when we get together as a trio to sing, but beyond that, there is something unchanging about Kalafina. It may be an exaggeration to say it's almost like a chemical reaction when we come together, but I want to take on the challenge once again to see how beautiful a melody we can create as a trio."

--What do you think of Wakana and Keiko's vocal appeal?

"There are many singers in the world who can produce beautiful high notes and low notes, but these two are really special to me. Wakana has always been said to be great at expressing transience and sorrow, but what's even more impressive is that her voice is not simply delicate but also has energy and strength to it. Keiko has a deep, enveloping voice, and her charm is that you can feel so much love in her cool low notes. Also, there's a new feeling to her voice that I didn't feel during the 10 years she was with Kalafina, maybe it's because she's been doing solo work that I'm able to feel this."

--The current Kalafina probably combines the unchanging things from when you were singing as a trio, and the growth that has come with your solo activities.

"Yes, I think that everyone who comes to our live show might feel this way. But of course, it's all subjective and everyone is free to feel whatever they want so even if you feel like 'Kalafina never changes no matter how much time passes' or 'this is a completely new and mature Kalafina', we will be happy. We have had 10 years as Kalafina, and 7 years by ourselves, all of this has made us who we are today."

--Now, what do you think about the appeal of Kalafina's music?

"The songs were written to suit our voices, and I think they are unique songs that make the most of each of our individual strengths. That's why it feels lonely to sing them by myself. When I first went solo, I sang Kalafina songs during my live concert and it felt so lonely that I stopped singing them after that *laughs*. Because these songs were written for the three of us to sing, I simply want to fulfill the role of Hikaru that the songs require, and I believe that by doing so, the songs will resonate more with everyone."

--What are your thoughts about all the fans who have continued to love Kalafina for such a long time?

"So many people have supported our activities over the past 10 years, and there are so many people who have continued to listen to Kalafina's music even after that, I have nothing but gratitude for them. Kalafina is really special to me, and I think that everyone has always known this. I want to convey to everyone at the live in January, 'thank you for waiting for us all this time.'"

--Finally, please tell us your thoughts about today's pamphlet photo shoot.

"It felt like it had been so long since the three of us had been together like this, we remembered the feeling of taking group photos, the distance and subsequent intimacy we felt when we were told to 'get a little closer together' *laughs*. And we even got to talk about personal things in between takes, it really felt like we were continuing right where we had left off with no gaps in between."