#like you really check the blogs of everyone who reblogs from you??? enough to fucking open my fucking read more on my about???

[snekdood]

that truscum person sent me like. paragraphs and im just sitting here like

[gojorgeous]

"sure thing"

pairing: target!gojo x assassin!fem!reader summary: you've been hired to kill the satoru gojo. how will you pull it off... and what will you do when he figures it out? content: MDNI (18+ only), nsfw, darkish content (all is well in the end), no established relationship, assassins/organized crime, blackmail, mention of a “suicide mission”, attempted murder (uhhhh), hidden identity, intended use of sex as a means to an end, mating press, unprotected sex, p->v, creampie, oral (fem!receiving), praise, pet names (gorgeous/sweetheart/baby), slight aftercare. a/n: me 🤝 describing gojo as having dimples welcome to my second 1k followers event fic! At this rate tho i’m going to hit 2k before i finish the 1k event LMAO. not that i'm complaining hehe. thank you for being patient and for all the support on my recent works! i really appreciate every ask, comment, follow, reblog, everything. they mean the world to me. check out the rest of my 1k event here. enjoy and remember that ALL AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED! creds: twitter template by @cafekitsune wc: 7.8k

“Who?!” 

No fucking way. There’s no way he just said what you think he said. 

“You heard me,” he scowls. He glares at you from across the desk. His seat is one of those cushy little office chairs, of course. Yours is plastic– cold and hard.

“Are you fucking insane?” you hiss. There’s no other explanation for what he’s asking you to do. He’s lost his fucking mind. 

“We have a client willing to pay big money for this. Big money for just an attempt,” he answers. 

You laugh, but there’s absolutely nothing funny about this conversation. “Oh, I’m sure you do. Probably because he’s practically invincible. I’ll never even lay a hand on him.” 

Your “boss”, for lack of a better term, only scowls harder, the wrinkles forming near his eyes etching deeper in his skin. “Well, you’d best find a way to make it work. You’re taking this job. That’s final.” You scoff. Maybe you should recommend he see someone… “No. There’s no way. I’m not doing this.” You stand, grabbing your bag and slinging it over your shoulder. “Get someone else to go on your suicide mission.” You take a couple strides toward the door before two very large men move to block your path. 

“Not so fast,” your boss calls. You pause, eyeing up your competition. You could definitely take them if you needed to. You sense only a very faint amount of cursed energy coming from each of them– not even enough to make you blink– but something in your boss’s tone makes you turn back. 

“Yes?” You cross your arms over your chest, fingering a blade hidden in your breast pocket. 

He fiddles around in his pocket, pulling out a cigarette and lighting up right there in his office. You don’t try to hide the way your nose scrunches up. “You want to do this job.” 

Your eyes narrow. Something tells you you’re not going to like what comes next. “And why’s that?” 

He takes a long puff, letting the smoke flowing out of his lungs with a slow exhale. “Because otherwise that little brother of yours is gonna be…” he pauses to give you a smile that makes your stomach churn. “Hmm… a lot smaller, shall we say? Maybe in several limb sized pieces?”

You think your heart stops. Time halts as ice runs through your veins. Nobody knows about your brother. At least, they didn’t. 

Your boss’s smile grows even wider. In all your time as an assassin, you’ve never wanted to kill someone more. But you know you can’t. Just an attempt on his life will end your brother’s. 

“Don’t worry. He’s all tucked away and safe at home where you left him.” Just a tiny piece of your heart thaws with relief. “But try to run with him, or run yourself, and he won’t be safe much longer.” Your pulse pounds so viciously you’re sure everyone can hear. A bead of sweat rolls down your neck. “Now, will you accept the assignment?” 

Your jaw clenches. He got you. In all these years of working for him you’ve been careful, meticulous about hiding every piece of your personal life to avoid situations just like this. But he still got you. He got you. 

“Yes,” you breathe. You have no choice. You will either kill Satoru Gojo or you will die trying. 

“Good,” is all he says, and then you’re being escorted out of the office wondering where the hell you went wrong. 

~

It’s been three weeks since that fateful meeting with your boss. True to his word, your brother has remained unharmed, but you see his lackeys lurking around every corner. Neither you nor your brother are truly safe and you never will be again unless you can pull this off and then put together some plan to escape your boss’s clutches. 

You’ll fail. You know you will. The thought eats you up inside with every waking moment. 

You’ve done your best to learn every possible piece of information about Satoru Gojo in the past two weeks. You know you can’t tail him closely– he’d pick up on your cursed energy and notice your incessant presence, so you’ve had to study from a distance with only minimal moments of proximity. You know where he works, who he works with, what restaurants, bars, and clubs he frequents and what days of the week he tends to visit. You know what his order is at his favorite ramen restaurant, where he lives, what time he wakes up. Hell, you know what fucking brand of dish soap he uses. He lives a surprisingly… predictable lifestyle. He makes no attempt to switch up his schedule or cover his tracks. In any other situation he’d be every assassin’s dream, but this is Satoru Gojo and Satoru Gojo doesn’t need to worry about assassins– assassins need to worry about him.

It took you the first week to come up with a plan. You had no clue how you were going to get close to him, much less kill him, and his infinity technique was going to prove particularly problematic. How were you supposed to kill him when you couldn’t even touch him? You had to get him in a situation in which he would willingly let his guard down for you. 

You’d been on the subway when it hit you. Sex. You’d get him to have sex with you. If you could get him to take you home, he’d have to turn infinity off for at least a short time. That would be your time to strike. 

You’d spent the next two weeks primping yourself. You’d bought the most expensive dress you’d ever owned, got a mani-pedi, whitened your teeth, and spent a small fortune on makeup. Considering your circumstances, you thought your plan was quite a good one. You knew when he’d go out to the bar with his friends, which bar he’d go to, how long he’d stay, how he’d get a taxi home. You also knew when you’d arrive, how long you’d stay, and how you’d get a taxi with him– everything planned perfectly to best catch his attention. But for all your planning, there was still one thing you didn’t know. What kind of woman did Satoru Gojo go for? Someone submissive? Teasing? Aggressive? Playful? In all your time tracking him you’d never seen him take somebody home. It struck you as… odd. He was Satoru Gojo, renowned for his power, wealth, and good looks– surely he had women falling at his feet. Maybe he was just a little more… selective. If that was the case you’d have to be even quicker on your feet when you finally met him. And that time is now. 

You’re in your bathroom, checking your makeup one last time before heading out the door. Your brother sleeps soundly in the room down the hall, safe for the time being. You’ve contacted a friend, one who is at least willing to try to get him out if– when– you fail. You doubt it will be enough.

You make your way to his room. A quick peek inside reveals he’s snuggled up with a plushie elephant that he carries around like they’re attached at the hip. You creep inside, a sad smile on your lips. This may very well be the last time you see him. You brush a stray lock of hair from his eyes and press a kiss to the crown of his head. With one last whispered ‘I love you’, you’re out the door. If you linger, you won’t be able to go– and you have to. For him. 

The streets of Tokyo are cold tonight, like the weather knows what you’re about to attempt, like it’s preparing for death, for failure. For your failure.

The club you arrive at is upscale, and one where you’ve already tipped off the bouncer to let you bypass the line. You hear a few groans from the people behind you as you saunter straight inside. 

You’re conscious of every little move from the second you step inside. At any moment, he could see you and it could make or break your entire plan.

You press your shoulders back. You have a plan– stick to it. 

You make your way over to the bar, weaving your way between groups of people who are somewhere between giggling a little too loudly and tripping over their own feet. 

You find a free space at the bar and lean up onto your elbows, your eyes screening the bartenders. You smile when you see a familiar face. 

“Hey, Dean,” you call.

He turns and the sight of his friendly green eyes sets you a little more at ease. 

“Oh, shit. Hey!” He slings a towel over his shoulder and comes to stand across from you. “You’re back,” he says. You nod and smile softly. Ever since you’d determined this would be the place you’d been coming periodically, chatting up the bartenders. The last thing you needed was to stand around in a corner alone with seemingly no friends. That wouldn’t attract anyone, much less Satoru Gojo. 

Out of all the bartenders, Dean was your favorite– and you’d been oh so happy to learn that his schedule put him on every Friday night. 

“Yeah. Long day at work.” 

A smile pulls at his lips, but there’s a hint of sympathy in his eyes. “The usual, then?” 

You nod solemnly. “That’d be great. Thanks.” 

You watch him prepare the drink for you, feeling a little bad that it’s all a lie. There’s no bad day at work, you didn’t just happen to come in here one day and strike up a conversation with him. All of this is premeditated, planned, and it feels… lonely. It feels lonely to know that on what is probably your last night on earth you are surrounded by people who only think they know you. 

“So, anything new happening?” Dean drops your drink in front of you and you have a feeling it’s filled with a little more vodka than he’s supposed to put in there. 

Your eyes shift around the bar as subtly as you can manage. As much as you want to seem like you fit in, you also need to find Gojo. It’s a fine balance. 

You shrug. “Yeah, I guess I just feel like a lot of things are going to be changing for me pretty soon.” 

His brows pull together and the look he gives you is one of genuine interest and concern. It makes your heart wrench. “How so?” 

You swallow. “Dunno. Just… everything.”

There’s a moment of silence and then the tapping of a finger on your glass. “Damn, girl. Drink up. You need it.” 

You can’t help but smile. You have a feeling that Dean would have been a good friend of yours in another life. 

You take his advice, though, and bring your drink to your lips and force a smile. You can’t be moping– not tonight. 

The next twenty minutes are spent with Dean. Even when he’s making other drinks he’s still chatting with you, still being a good… friend. You dread leaving your little haven at the bar. The time is coming when you’ll have to seek out your target.

You’re shocked when it’s the other way around. 

“Hey, gorgeous.” There’s a light brush on your shoulder and you turn. It takes all you have to keep your features schooled and calm. Satoru fucking Gojo just tapped your shoulder. 

Nothing prepared you for how handsome he is up close. All those days of research, of tracking and tailing– none of it does the real thing justice. Even with those stupid sunglasses inside… he’s fucking beautiful. “I’ll pay for all of your drinks tonight if you let me skip this hideous line,” he whines. 

You give yourself no more than a second to recover. You school your features into a smirk. You glance at Dean with an ‘is this okay?’ look. He just smiles and shrugs. 

You turn back to Gojo, bracing yourself this time for the beauty you’re about to face. You meet his gaze and know you could get lost in it. “Be my guest.” 

His smile nearly blinds you and his dimples nearly make you pass out. Still, you keep your cool. 

“Yesssss!” He looks like a puppy just offered a bone. 

He spills his drink order to Dean and it’s far more than could possibly be just for him. He’s here with his friends, then. Probably the blonde man who always looks too tired to be here and the girl with the brown hair who always seems like she’s just along for the ride. 

You bite your lip to hide a laugh when he orders himself two strawberry daiquiris. Somehow you still catch his attention. 

“What?” he pouts. You can’t help but feel a small stirring of surprise in your gut. He’s far more… relaxed than you’d expected him to be. He’s almost… childish? 

You press your lips together and shake your head. You’ve reached the point where your research can’t take you any further. From this point on, it’s up to you to discover what Satoru Gojo likes in a woman. 

You debate how to answer. Play coy? Tease him? Stay silent? Any option could be as correct as the next. You didn’t know where to start… so maybe you’d just start by being yourself. 

“Just, um… not the order I was expecting,” you laugh. It’s halfway genuine. With the way he’s acting, it’s hard to remember that he’s the most powerful man alive. 

His pout only intensifies. “Well, what’s your order?” 

His question is answered when Dean sets another cosmopolitan in front of you. You laugh. “Never said I was judging, just that it wasn’t what I expected.” 

Another smile tugs at his lips and something stirs in your gut that you try your very hardest to ignore. This was a job. There was no room for actually enjoying it. This man was probably going to kill you later, in a matter of hours. 

There’s a beat of silence, and then a slight shift in his demeanor. He leans closer and you see a twitch of his lips. Your heart jumps. 

“You’re a sorcerer,” he says. 

You hold back an exhale of relief. You thought he might be onto you. If he is, he’s choosing not to reveal it yet. 

You nod and take what you hope is a casual sip of your drink. “And you’re Satoru Gojo.” 

A brow arches high enough for you to see it over his sunglasses. “You know who I am?” 

You force a chuckle, smirking despite the pounding of your heart. “Who doesn’t?” 

You’d decided long ago to tell him that you knew exactly who he was. It would seem more suspicious for a fellow sorcerer to have no idea what the Satoru Gojo looked like. 

He flashes you a smile full of white and stupidly fucking perfect teeth. “That’s true, heh.” You press your lips together to avoid a smile. Not too humble, then… 

“So, what’s your technique” 

You shoot him a glance that questions his sanity. Asking a sorcerer what their technique is… is personal. It’s not information you give out to a rando at the bar– even if it is Satoru Gojo.

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” You take another sip of your drink, trying your hardest to remain somewhere on the border or interested and casual. 

“Bet I could find out.” 

That makes you turn fully, angling your body toward his. “Oh yeah? You challenging me to a fight?” You smirk and shake your head. “I’ll pass.” 

He pouts again, but you see a hint of a smile peeking through. “Aw, come on. That’s no fun…” 

You chuckle and take another sip of your drink. You’re not sure you’re sipping just for appearances anymore. You think you probably just need a little liquid courage to see this thing through. “Sorry. I value my life.” 

You watch as he slides his sunglasses down the bridge of his nose, just enough for you to get a glimpse of what’s behind. You nearly choke again and this time you don’t manage to hide your nervous swallow when he smirks. 

“You’re so sure you’d lose?” His voice is teasing now and you hate that it’s actually having an effect on you. Job, job, job, just a job… 

You clear your throat. “I like to think I’m not stupid enough to think that I could win.” 

His eyes are blue– so fucking blue– and you feel like he’s seeing straight into your soul. Can he see? Can he see your filthy intentions? Your plotting? The rottenness of what you’re going to do? “What if I promise to take it real easy on you?” 

Your drink is forgotten now. You’re lost in what he’s saying– in him. “No thanks.” Your voice is growing lower and you feel like there’s some magnet forcing you to lean into him, to seek his warmth. 

“So you like it rough, then.” The trance is broken and your blood runs hot. Holy shit. This man is flirting with you and you hardly even had to try. He's trying to take you home. Little does he know, you’re a sure thing. 

You watch as he throws back the rest of his strawberry daiquiri with a pleased “ahhh” at the end. When he turns back to you his eyes have a certain spark in them that makes your thighs press together. “You wanna dance with me?” 

Fuck. This is going too well to be real. But you’re not about to pass up a good deal. 

“What about your friends?” you ask and eye the several untouched drinks still left on the bar. It’s risky– giving him an out, but you can’t seem too eager.

He follows your gaze only to bounce his eyes straight back to you. “I’m sure they’ll get a look at ya and understand.” 

The smirk he’s giving you is making electricity shoot straight between your legs. Damn. You really wish you didn’t have to kill him– or at least try to. 

When he extends his hand you only hesitate for a second. Your heart leaps when you feel his skin on yours, knowing he’s let infinity down. He pulls you onto the dancefloor and it’s not long before he’s running his hands all over you– groping your ass, pinching your thighs, nipping at your neck. Pretty soon the dancefloor evolves to a dark corner of the club with his lips on yours and goddamn he’s a good kisser. You’ve got your fingers in his hair and his hand way too close to your boobs when he whispers those fateful words– “let’s get out of here.”

You can only hide your swallow and nod before he’s pulling you through the crowd, leaving the club behind. He hauls you both into the backseat of a taxi and the door’s barely closed before he’s all over you again. You think you hear the taxi driver mutter something about ‘staining the seats’ but you’re too far gone to give a shit. 

Fuck, he feels good. He’s kisses you like he’s starved and your lips are the fountain of fucking life, like he’s never felt something so good and now he can’t get enough. And, god, he’s handsy. You’re forever grateful to your past self for discreetly hiding your blade in your bra– he would have felt a holster on your thigh at least ten times over by now. 

He groans when you arrive at what you know is his apartment building, though you don’t let on that you recognize the place in the slightest. The look on his face makes you think he’s feeling actual physical pain at the prospect of having to peel away from you for even a second. Nonetheless, he tosses a wad of cash at the taxi driver and pulls you straight inside.

He can’t even wait for the elevator to come, groping your waist right there in the lobby and then when the elevator finally does come, shoving you up against the metal wall a licking stripe across your collarbone. 

You can’t deny how nice it feels to be so desperately… wanted. Never once has a man made you feel this way– so consumed by him, him, him. Once again you curse the universe that you’re here with a mission other than getting laid. 

You find yourself giggling when he pulls you out of the elevator and presses his palm to a fucking scanner to get into his apartment. You try to pull yourself together, but when he laughs with you, you can’t help but melt into him a little more.

As soon as the door clicks shut behind you, he’s got you up against another wall with your legs wrapped around his waist and his face buried in your neck. His sunglasses are long gone and you pull at his shirt, popping the buttons straight off the fabric until you slide the shirt down his shoulders and onto the floor.

“That was Versace,” he whines. 

You plaster your lips to his. “I don’t care.” All he does is chuckle. 

“So gorgeous…” he breathes and your head slumps back against the wall, giving him better access to the soft skin of your neck. Any minute now. Any minute he’s going to start stripping your clothes off and you’re going to have to let this charade crumble. You don’t want to. He’s practically worshiping you. It’s perfect, it’s amazing, and you don’t want it to end. 

His fingers dig into the flesh of your ass and suddenly you’re moving again– moving, moving, moving until your back is bouncing against the softness of a mattress and you’re fucking giggling again like a lovesick idiot. Maybe you’d had a few too many sips of those cosmopolitans. 

He’s smiling as he crawls over you and the sight makes your heart flutter with both lust and terror. Lust because he’s so fucking beautiful and terror because you know that any moment now you’re going to attempt to end that beauty forever. 

A lump forms in your throat and you try unsuccessfully to swallow it. You have to do this, have to try. There’s no other way, no other option. Not for you.

Your thoughts must not have been as perfectly concealed as you’d thought because he quirks a brow. “Something goin’ on up here?” His lips slide across your temple in a touch that feels far too tender for a hookup. “Don’t worry, baby. It’ll fit.” He snickers at his own joke before burying himself in your neck. His hand slides down your side, pressing you up into him until you can feel every curve and cut of his muscles. 

You bite your lip. You’ve already slipped enough for him to notice your nerves– you can’t let it happen again. You have to do it soon. Now. As soon as you see an opportunity you have to strike. You have to. 

You arch up into him, scratching your fingers down his back, trying to seem as invested in the moment as you can. He gets greedier, leaving open-mouthed kiss down your neck, across your collarbone. You nearly freeze up when he kisses low into the valley of your breasts– as low as your dress allows. Then he moves over your clothes, kissing down your stomach as his hands rub your thighs. 

Now. Now, while he’s not looking.

You slide a hand into his hair and another up to your chest, trying to play it off like you’re touching yourself. You sneak your fingers into your bra, feeling the cool metal of your blade glide across your thumb. Now. 

You fist your fingers in his hair, holding his head down as best you can while you arc the blade toward his neck. Just one good hit, please… 

You think you’re going to strike true– you’re so close– and then a firm hand wraps around your wrist, stalling your attack just as it was about to land. 

Fuck. 

He doesn’t look up right away, but you hear him sigh, feel his hot breath fanning over your thighs and stomach. When he finally does look up it’s with the eyes of a teacher who’s disappointed his student didn’t do their homework. 

“Come on now, baby. I was really hoping you’d forget about all this and we could just have a good night together…” He’s pouting, whining, like a child who’s been told he can’t have dessert before dinner. Your shock stills you long enough that he easily maneuvers the blade from your hand, throwing it with a thwack into the wall to his right. It lands perfectly. 

This is it. You’re going to die now. But not without a fight. 

You spring up from the bed, kicking him a couple times in the process. You’ve missed your only chance. Now, if there’s even the slightest chance of escape, you have to take it. 

You bare feet hit the carpet. No time to find your shoes. You dart for the door and hear him groan behind you. For a second you think you might actually make it, but you should know better. 

He appears in front of you, straight out of fucking thin air, and his pout has transformed into something a little more sinister. “Come on, gorgeous. Let’s talk it out, yeah?” 

You take a shaky step back, but you know it’s no use. He’s got you. It’s over. 

You swallow and lift your chin– you at least want to die with a little dignity. “Just make it quick. Please.” 

He sighs again and slides his hands in his fucking pockets, like this is just a stroll down the street. He stalks toward you, forcing you back until you’re pressed up against another wall. This motherfucker really likes walls. 

His pout shifts to a smirk that borders far too closely on a grin. “Oh, no. I’ve always had a thing for taking it slow.” 

You nearly snort. He certainly hadn’t had a thing for taking it slow just a minute ago. His arms cage you and your world grows infinitely smaller until it’s just him and those blue-ass eyes staring you down. Some distant part of you thinks you might not mind if it’s the last thing you ever see. 

“Damn, I really thought you might give it up and just let me fuck you,” his pout returns. “So disappointing…” he sighs. 

Your lips part. “You knew?” 

That lights his face up like a Christmas tree. “Sensed you tailing me these past few weeks. Started on theeeee– 21st, no?” 

Fuck. You’d been so careful. You’d only tailed him in public spaces, where your energy would be more diluted by the crowds. You’d stayed far enough away that he should only have caught mere glimpses of you, even suppressed your energy. He should not have been able to sense you. But he was Satoru Gojo– things people were not supposed to be able to do came easily to him. 

But you have one thing on him. 

“The 18th,” you whisper. “Started on the 18th.”

There’s a beat of silence and then his smile is growing wider, wider, wider, until it’s practically blinding you. “Well, shit,” he laughs. “You’re pretty good.” 

You let a tiny smile slip through your terror. “I try.” 

His eyes travel up and down your body, his pout slipping away to a frown. “What to do with you… hmm…” You lift your chin, taking shallow little breaths through your nose. You’re looking death in the face, but you’d never thought it would be so beautiful. He sighs. “I guess I could let you go.” 

You freeze. He notices. 

He quirks a brow, another smirk sliding across his lips. “What? Didn’t think that was an option?” You stay silent. No way he’ll let you go. It’s a bluff. A cruel trick. “It’s not like you could try again, gorgeous. I know your energy now and what you look like. Sorry, but your chance is gone.” That was fine by you. Your breaths come a little heavier, hope pulsing in your veins. “But–” shit. “Letting you go is so… boring. Especially after where we left off, yeah?” 

Your jaw drops. “You cannot seriously be suggesting that we–” 

He cuts you off with a kiss, one that makes your toes curl in the carpet and your stomach clench in anticipation. 

“Oh, yes I am,” he chuckles. You feel his hand sliding down your hip, cool and calculating. “I know you weren’t faking the whole thing, gorgeous. Nobody makes out like that when they’re faking it.” You feel your cheeks heat. “And nobody gets this wet-” his fingers snake beneath your skirt, pressing to the wet patch on your panties. “When they’re faking it.” You gasp and reach out, hands clasping onto his shoulders for support. He only chuckles. “No worries, gorgeous. No need for any more faking tonight. I’ll make sure it’s all real.” 

Somehow you’ve got your legs wrapped around his waist again and you’re headed to the bedroom– again. It’s like a replay– a redo. 

“Let’s keep it less killy this time, yeah?” 

Your back hits the mattress, your body bouncing lightly on its softness before he’s crawling after you. It’s simultaneously the best and worst deja vu you’ve ever experienced. 

His hands slide down your body again, fingertips hooking beneath the hem of your skirt and shimmying it up your thighs until your panties are on full display. 

“Shit,” you breathe. He’s moving so fast, like he’s desperate to go further, to get his greedy hands all over your bare skin. 

You can’t say you blame him. You feel the same.

His thumbs hook under the fabric of your panties and you know it’s over for you. You can feel his warm breath skating across your thighs, feel the calluses on his hands scraping against your skin. You reach a hand down, tangling it in his hair, and you nearly faint when he smirks and looks up at you with those blue fucking eyes. 

“I think I’ve seen this film before, sweetheart.” He tilts his head, resting his cheek on the plush of your thigh. “No more knives hiding anywhere, yeah?” 

You clench your jaw, trying to control your pounding heart. You can’t believe you’re doing this. Why are you doing this? You wish you had a better answer than he’s beautiful and sexy and just a glance at him makes you want to rip his clothes off and climb him like a tree. 

“Silent, hm? Guess I’ll just have to check myself…” 

He’s pressing up the hem up your skirt, more, more, more, until he’s pulling your dress straight up over your arms and running his hands down your bare sides. 

“None there…” His fingers cup your breast and you gasp, unable to contain your shock and the jolt that just rushed through you. He traces the outline of your bra. “You had the last one in here, no?” Your chest heaves under his touch, pressing the flesh of your breast up into his fingers. He smirks. “Best check again.” You feel an arm slide beneath you back and then your bra loosens before it’s completely gone. 

There’s a beat of silence, of admiration. He gazes down on you and you see his snark falter for just a moment, replaced by a sparkle in his eyes. It makes your skin heat. His fingers brush the swell of your breasts, thumb trailing down over a nipple. You arch and gasp again. 

“Fuck. Quit teasing so much.” 

He chuckles and the sound washes over you until it settles in your bones. “Sush. I’m not done checking for weapons yet.” 

You scowl but before you can even move to open your mouth he’s sliding your panties down your legs, hooking them around your ankles and tossing them somewhere on the floor.

His tongue darts out to wet his lips and you watch him settle himself down between your thighs, eyes never once leaving your center. “Don’t see any knives here, either, but maybe I should double-check…” he breathes. 

He hooks your legs over his shoulders and you shudder, your breaths shaky. Fuck. You were supposed to kill him tonight but if he keeps going like this you’ll be the one deceased. 

He meets your eyes when he takes the first long lick along your folds. You swear he’s smirking.

Your head rolls back and a pathetic sounding groan slips past your lips. You hadn’t realized how much he’d worked you up. Just the slightest touch feels like heaven.

His tongue nudges at your clits and your legs clench, tightening around his head. He laughs into your cunt and his warm breath skates up and over your tummy. Your fingernails scrape his scalp.

“I think you like this, gorgeous.” 

Each word sends little puffs of air against your folds. It’s driving you crazy. You stare down at him, letting a smirk pull at your lips. Your eyes dart over his mouth, wet with your slick, and you don’t fail to notice the way he’s struggling to hold your gaze, eyes flickering back down to your cunt every second. Your smirk grows. “I think you’re liking this, too.” 

He licks another stripe, from you pulsing hole to your throbbing clit, and this time he’s the one groaning. “Damn right I am.”

He eats you out like he kisses you– like a starved man, like he’ll die if he stops for just one second, like he can’t live without your juices on his tongue. 

You whine and bury both hands in his hair, tugging desperately when his lips wrap around you clit and suck. It’s so much, too much, and yet it’s just right. 

Your hips buck and squirm, but he’s got his fingers pressed deep into your flesh, holding you down to take whatever he gives. You think you see heaven when he slides two fingers into your walls, curling them into that gummy spot that has an unbearable heat building deep inside you. 

“S-Satoru-” you stutter and you hear him moan and mutter into your cunt like he’s unwilling to leave it for even a second.

“Fuck, yes. Say my name, sweetheart.” Who are you to deny him? You whisper, whine, and whimper his name with every thrust of his fingers, every lick of his tongue. It’s delicious. Every so often he swaps his mouth and hand, thrusting his tongue as deep inside you as he can while his fingers rub dangerous little circles on your clit. Whenever things get a little too filthy he laps his tongue across your entire cunt and along your inner thighs, cleaning up every stray drop. You don’t know how much longer you can last under such a complete and total assault. 

“S-Satoru, ‘m gonna-” He licks a thick stripe through your folds that makes your sentence end in a whine, his lips settling to suckle on your clit again.

God, it’s messy. It’s fucking disgusting. His whole chin is covered in spit and slick– and you love it. “Cum for me, baby,” he breathes. 

You don’t need to hear much more. You let the heat inside you release with a whine, thighs trembling on his shoulders. Your walls pulse and throb around his fingers, sucking him in and never wanting him to leave. His tongue continues to rub lazy circles around your clit, working you through your high and making it last so long you think you might pass out.

Warmth spreads from the top of your head to the tips of your toes and your muscles tense and clench with each pulsing throb. You swear to god you see fucking stars.

It seems to go on forever, leaving you limp and shaking when the last waves finally slip away. 

He presses a final kiss to your clit, one that makes your hips jolt from the overstimulation before he’s lifting himself up. “Wow. That looked like a big one,” he chuckles. He runs a soothing hand along your thigh and you don’t even have the energy to give him some sort of snarky reply. There’s hardly even a pause before something shifts in his eyes. “Let’s see if we can get one that’s even bigger, yeah?” 

Before you can even process what he’s said you feel strong hands slide under your thighs, pressing them tightly to your chest as he settles himself close to you

You grasp at the sheets, hearing the clinking of a belt buckle and then the familiar pitch of a zipper being undone. 

“Fuck,” you mutter. He’s big. Long and pretty and with a perfectly flushed tip. Your eyes are rolling back just thinking about having him inside you.

A strong hand smooths along your thighs, folding you in a way that feels more vulnerable and exposing than anything you’ve ever done before. He pauses for a beat, just staring down at you silently.

“Gorgeous,” he finally mutters, and something in your heart squeezes. His hand grips your hip firmly, holding you in place and you gasp when you feel him prodding at your entrance. It’s pathetic. You’re pathetic. Big bad assassin turned simpering little bitch over some good Gojo dick. 

“Just relaxxxxx, baby.” His hand rubs soothing little circles into your side and it’s so divinely distracting that it catches you by surprise when he starts pushing into you. You gasp and he only chuckles. Asshole. 

He’s big– really big – and the stretch is somehow both painful and perfect. You groan into the air, struggling to take him. Every inch feels like it must be the last, but then there’s more. Your walls clench around him on instinct, trying to force him out. 

“Fuck, baby. What did I say about relaxing?” You hiss when his hand skates down your tummy to rub messy circles on your clit. The relief is instant and you moan when you feel him slide in a little further. “There we go. Good girl.” 

He continues feeding his dick into you, inch by inch, until his hips finally press to yours and you think you can feel him in your fucking throat. You hear him exhale, like it’s a relief to finally be fully inside you, like he’s been waiting for ages. 

You expect him to not hold back, to let himself go and pound into you relentlessly, but he doesn’t. He only leans down closer to you, settling in when he starts a pace of slow, sensual thrusts. His brows pinch, his eyes hardened in concentration.

“Ah, fuck. You’re so tight.” 

You want to shoot something back at him, but you’re hardly remembering to breathe with how deep he’s sliding into you. Instead, you just end up holding him tighter, your eyes fluttering shut. 

Lips dust across your cheeks, just below your lashes. “Keep your eyes open, gorgeous. Wanna see you.” 

You blink, thinking that it’s a notion that feels a little too intimate for a hookup. Regardless, you do as he wants, opening your eyes and holding his gaze.

A smile splits his lips and he presses his forehead to yours, picking up the pace of his thrusts. It’s not long before the sound of skin on skin fills the room and you’re both panting. His breath skates across your skin, hot and heavy, hitching with the groans and whines that spill from his chest. You can’t help but pull him closer, raking your nails down his back hard enough to leave marks. The action makes him emit a noise you can only describe as a desperate whimper. “Fuck, baby. Yes.” 

His lips press to yours in a kiss that’s all desperation and teeth and tongue. You kiss him back with equal intensity, your body rocking with each heavy thrust. He’s pounding into you now, frantic for more, more, more of you. You want him to take it, take all of you. 

A familiar heat pinches in your stomach and you know it won’t be long before he’s pushing you to another release. His dick drags in and out of you, prodding at the gummy spot inside you with every thrust and brushing so deliciously against your cervix that you can’t stop the moans spilling from your lips. It has you seeing stars again, has you clawing at him and panting into his mouth. 

“Satoru… harder,” you breathe. You need more– more of everything, of him. 

He groans. “You got it, gorgeous.” 

His hips slam into you and it’s so perfect that you can’t help but whimper beneath him. It only gets worse when you feel his fingers on your clit again, hand pressed between your bodies. “Cum on my dick, baby.” Your eyes roll back, that coil inside you rolling tighter. You feel his muscles tensing and shaking above you and you know he’s close, too. “Where do you want it?” he asks, and from the pinched look on his face you can tell exactly where he wants it. You know you’re an idiot for feeling the same. 

“Inside,” you breathe. He groans so loudly it rattles in your ears.

“That’s my girl,” he says, but it’s nearly a whisper with how strained it is. His hand continues at your clit, rubbing perfect little circles that make your legs tremble where they’re pressed against your chest. Your jaw hangs open, but you don’t dare close your eyes. Satoru is still holding your gaze intently, desperately, like he needs to see you. The thought throws you over the edge.

You cry his name, clawing at his shoulder and shaking like a leaf as you feel yourself gush and pulse all over his dick. For the second time that evening you feel the heat inside you swell and burst, washing through you in waves that nearly consume you whole. It’s a struggle to hold his eyes, to not let them roll back into your skull and give into the pure ecstasy of your high– especially when he’s cumming, too. You can hear him moaning in your ear, feel him twitching inside you, feel his hot cum coating your walls and there’s just so fucking much of it. You swear he cums for a minute straight before he slumps down onto you, burying his face in your neck as you pant. 

You’re shaking and so is he, breaths heaving in and out. Reality slowly starts to seep back in, even with his dick still softening inside you and his cum leaking down your thighs. 

You tried to kill him. You failed. You had sex. Now what? Would he really let you go like he’d said he would? You wanted to believe it, but life hadn’t taught you to be that trusting. You should move, untangle yourself from him and escape before he has time to change his mind. 

“You assassins are always thinking so hard,” He mumbles into the curve of your neck. “Maybe you should try to relax for once.”

You swallow when you feel him pressing his lips to your throat, trailing up to your jaw. It’s… tender, gentle, and it feels so nice. You can’t help the way you melt into the touch a bit. You feel him smile into your skin. “There we go.”

His hand settles on your waist, rubbing soothing little circles that send a jolt of urgency up your spine. No. You’re enjoying this– being close to him, laying here with him, breathing him in. That’s not what this is supposed to be. 

You tense again, shifting to get away from him, but he only sighs and presses his weight onto you. 

“Come on, gorgeous. No need to leave so soon. Just stay for a bit, yeah?” He nibbles at your jaw, but it doesn’t work this time. You have to go. You’ve failed your mission. You don’t know what that means for your brother. You’d never thought this would have an ending besides your death. 

“I have to go,” you mutter, pushing at his chest. 

He chuckles, but you don’t miss the strain and… hurt? “Got something more important than trying to kill me?” 

You clench your teeth, trying once again to shove him away. “Yes, actually.” 

He finally pulls back to meet your gaze, brows slightly pinched. “Like what?” 

You push in earnest now, anger and panic rising in your gut. You have to go, have to check on your brother, have to figure out what you’re going to do. “That’s really none of your business,” you seethe. 

You go for another shove, but strong hands clasp around your wrists, pinning them to the bed. His expression has gone flat now, serious. “Actually, I think it’s completely my business. You going to report your failure? Should I expect another assassin soon?”

You scowl, tugging at his grasp and trying to free yourself. “Yeah, probably. He’s an insufferable idiot. I told him it wouldn’t work and it didn’t, but I don’t doubt he’ll send another.” 

His face cracks, his brows pulling together again. “If you knew it wouldn’t work then why’d you take the job?” 

You struggle again, less angry and more desperate now. “Because he’s got my fucking brother at gunpoint and I’ve got to figure out how the fuck I’m going to save him!” you shout.

There’s silence for a long moment– a long, uncomfortable beat of it– and then his expression softens into something… tender. It sends a chill up your spine. Satoru Gojo was never supposed to be tender with you, and that’s all he’s been. 

“I’ll save him,” he says. Your heart jumps and his grip on your wrists loosens, allowing you to slip free. 

“What?” you breathe. He sits back, allowing you to prop yourself up into a slightly less vulnerable position. 

He exhales slowly, but you don’t miss the way his hand settles on your bare thigh, a comforting weight. “I’ll save your brother and then I’ll take care of your boss.” A smirk creeps across his lips. “What? Don’t think I can do it?”

You stare blankly, lips parted. There’s no doubt he can do it, but that’s not the question swirling in your mind. 

“Why would you help me?” You’d tried to kill the man. You couldn’t make heads or tails of a reason why he’d go out of his way to help you. 

He chuckles. “Well, in case you didn’t know, I’m a hero of sorts.” You have to fight not to roll your eyes. “And… there’s something I want from you.” 

There it is– the catch. He wants something. You have no idea what you could possibly have to give him, but you’re willing for it to be just about anything. You narrow your eyes. “What?” 

He grins, but you can see the glint of mischief in his gaze. His hand slides further up your thigh, up your side, over your shoulder, until it rests at the nape of your neck and his face is only inches from your own. “What’s your number, gorgeous?”

taglist (dm me or send an ask to be added!): @lacheri, @la-undercover-latina, @fushironi, @enchantedsylveon, @keiva1000, @complexivelovely, @httpstoyosi, @bbyxxm, @6kabuki.

link: 1k followers event

please consider leaving a comment, sending an ask, or reblogging! interacting with authors is the best way to support them! thanks for reading ♡

[creature-wizard]

Signs you might be dealing with a bot or troll trying to interfere with the US presidential election

Default PFP. Not everyone who has a default PFP is a bot or troll, and a few bots/trolls actually do have custom PFPs, but enough bots/trolls have default PFPs that it's always worth looking for additional signs you're dealing with a bot/troll when you see one.

(If you're a real honest-go-goodness Tumblr blogger and you have a default PFP, then I strongly recommend you change it because many people will block you on sight.)

Default colors/layout. Again, bots and trolls don't usually put a lot of effort into customizing their blogs. Some of them fiddle around with the basic settings, but they're very unlikely to upload custom graphics and put too much effort into customizing the colors. Same as above, not everyone who has a default blog theme is a bot or troll, but enough of them do that it's worth looking for other signs of suspicious activity.

Soundbitey content. Bots/trolls don't really engage with the content of the posts they interact with. They post very generic soundbitey responses, like "You have Trump Derangement Syndrome. See a therapist," "Fuck you, I'm not voting for Genocide Joe/Kamala the Cop," "America is run by lobbies. Voting is a scam," or "Republicans and Democrats both hate us, that's why I'm voting third party." Basically, if it sounds like a regurgitated line, you may be dealing with a bot or a troll.

Lack of personal content. Bot/troll blogs may have only one post, or might just have a bunch of reblogs with nothing of substances added to them. I'm going to point out here that I've also been seeing blogs do this with pro-Biden/pro-Harris content, so I'm not sure that all of these blogs are necessarily trying to interfere with the election, or if they're trying to get attention so they can try and advertise something else down the line. Some of these blogs also post or like porn, so I suspect a lot of them are actually pornbots trying to capitalize on politics.

Here's some examples of replies from bot/troll accounts:

whodathydro is a great example of an extremely obvious bot/troll. When we go to their blog, we can see that it hasn't been customized in any way, and there's not even a single post on it.

I've also got screencaps of one-post blogs over here that you can check out. (The first one has actually gussied up their blog a little, but it clearly hasn't been used in any way an genuine blogger would use their blog - no personal content, no engagement, nothing.)

So yeah, there ya go; if you see blogs like this they are probably trolls or bots; happy reporting and blocking!

[dropoutconfessions]

this is for the owner of this blog. why tf did you reblog plaidos. do you even know who she is and the kind of damage she's had on the trans community? she answered an anon about someone clearly pretending to be a trans woman working for dropout (because they use the language "members" (proven that dropout cast doesn't refer to themselves as that) and mentions a "dropout show" (... dropout is not a show. it's a host of multiple shows)) who had 0 proof. she's so reactionary and her logic is easily dismantled, she contradicts herself all the time (the post you reblogged she goes on about how "trans women aren't marketable" which is why they're not in dropout. there are so many other trans people in dropout, but in the comments of another plaidos post she said "persephone was so popular when she was in d20". literally took me 2 minutes to find the contradiction. not to mention the graph she reblogs with an elusive "tme vs tma rep in dropout" with no stats and no classification of what tme and tma means, no clear answer on where the many appearances and shows specifically made for and by drag queens, and then complained that lumping every genderqueer person who likely came out after being hired equaled to more than one subset of trans people.

i'm so disappointed. so much for this being a safe, apolitical space. plaidos has done irreperable harm to me and my transmasc brothers and to see a DROPOUT GIMMICK BLOG reblogging her baseless and clearly incorrect accusations proven by literally just KNOWING about dropout. but instead, you've made your blog an unsafe place for anyone who isn't a white transfem by showing you're in agreeance with plaidos.

you want links to posts? go to her blog and search the #dropout tag. there's your links.

Okay so I just would like to say a few things in response to this. first, I reblogged like, one post, and not even directly from her. I do not do an insane amount of research into people I reblog from to check if everything is kosher, which I assume no one else does.

If y'all expect me to check that much, stop sending me asks about how I haven't posted your asks yet. I know everyone assumes its because I dislike their post personally. It's not. It's cause i have a really really busy life rn. I mean this with all the kindness in my heart, I do not give enough of a fuck to block most of your opinions from making the stage short of you using slurs or straight up lying.

Regardless, she passes the tests. She's not anti-trans mascs and I feel like this is the result of bad faith readings and people assuming trans women are the enemy. Also taking any mention of oppression that doesn't apply to you as a personal attack.

I looked her up and the first thing i saw complaining about her called her a slur, so not a great start gotta say. If any of y'all use this word as an insult, stop, it's categorically not okay.

Also, there can be a lack of trans women, and also you can like persephone valentine. 3 trans women on a network with like a fuck ton of other queer people is also not very many, when you take into the fact that twice as many TME trans people have been on multiple episodes of dropout shows, that's not a contradiction. You can be popular and also unmarketable, that's like every remotely famous TMA, and honestly trans people in general have a harder time. That's not contradiction, that's us going "yippee a single fucking crumb of transfem rep" in 2021 and then being drip fed with game changer, um actually, and dirty laundry occasional appearances for the next 3 years.

If you want a definition for TMA and TME, like a formal one, not just what the acronyms mean, do your research on it. You wanna know how I learned about the fact that they refer to specifically institutional transmisogyny? FROM PLAIDOS'S BLOG. Do you actually, like, look at her posts? or just the ones cherrypicked to make her seem anti-transmasc because of bad faith interpretations? She's very clearly aware of the oppression trans mascs face, it's called transphobia. Transmisogyny is specifically the oppression trans women face given the fact we are seen as a subhuman third gender on an institutional level.

so much for this being a safe apolitical space

I never said it would be apolitical. In fact, safe and apolitical are contradictory. We're trans. Our very existence and identity and lives have been made political, and will be political for the entirety of our lifespans. I'm not going to lie down and pretend otherwise for the comfort of the world and I am honestly disappointed that you, as a fellow trans person, are encouraging that behavior in any way.

The entire "not an ask" tag, is for me to talk. It's mine. My space. You cannot divorce this blog from my influence because it's my goddamn blog. I am not a jukebox or a puppet for you to get your fandom stuff. I am a woman with her own damn opinions and a large enough follower count for my push for trans rights to largely get slightly less ignored than they do on main.

I have been following dropout / collegehumor since the All Nighters. The only subject I am more knowledgeable about is probably Alpharad or Paper Mario. I know dropout. I know statistics, I'm majoring in it. I've known about this issue for years now. But until this blog, until very recently, I didn't have a platform for it, so I just shut the fuck up. I'm not doing that this time. I'm going to be a very jaded women because some of the men who are supposed to be my brothers are acting like this. Like we need to shut up and not complain. No. Fuck that.

I do not think Dropout is the bad guy here. As of now, I'm holding out hope. I personally, am not boycotting them (yet). I am holding out hope that they respond, and then I'll wait a few months because I know things are recorded in advance and hiring and vetting processes take time. But I would like a change. Because outside of a spike in 2021 (when the seven was released), transfem appearances on dropout hasn't really changed for the better, at all.

but instead, you've made your blog an unsafe place for anyone who isn't a white transfem

Oh damn I guess I gotta leave, since my blog isn't safe for me. Since yk. I'm not white. I'm a stone cold desi bitch and I will live and die that way. Thanks for assuming I'm white tho, really showing that "white people are the default" world view you've got going there.

Do you want to know why, everyone assumes only white transfems have this take? Because so few of you, actually listen to transfems, ofc you don't notice, that transfems of color, have the same fucking opinion.

I want it to be clear. I love trans mascs. My partner is transmasc. Some of my best friends are transmascs. I don't hate trans mascs. I don't even hate you. I just kinda hate talking to you. And everyone, regardless of gender, like you. The type of people who heard, that transfems are oppressed in a way transmascs aren't, a way cis women aren't, and somehow turned that into a personal attack. You took a single fucking critic against Dropout, and decided to be guided by hatred.

This is my problem with the fandom. Transfems bring up one little thing: they'd like to be more represented. Nothing about Dropout being evil, nothing against Sam Reich or Brennan Lee Mulligan, just the fact that they are cis white men in positions of power being a valid part of the data. And you started attacking us. We're receiving death threats because people are whiteknighting a comedy company that is visibly entirely unaffected by our actions.

I have one question for all of you. Why aren't you in the comments and reblogs of all the confessions tagged negative dropout post? You want to defend this company, I better see an uptick in notes on those posts. Otherwise shut the fuck and let us beg for a bit more representation in peace.

If you have a problem with that. Leave. I don't want you following my blog if you so desperately need me to be silent on the matters that affect me and the people I love. And that includes you. The day the world comes for your throat, I'll be there. I have come to accept that I won't get that same treatment. But don't you fucking tell me not to stand up for myself. Cause I'm standing up for the both of us when any of us need it.

[velvetvexations]

Really love how every time I argue with people on here about how actually trans men do not generally have it meaningfully better than trans women, people avoid actually explaining their points or providing sources and start calling me a little boy. Very fun. Love that. It's so fun to be insulted for asking asking people to explain their point

No one can actually explain that.

rhea ripley is so hot. and for what

for me to be all Weird Trans Woman about her

Honestly as an non binary person, I feel more and more pushed out of the community with the serious adherence to the binary. "if you Id as this you MUST be this thing, you're you're a liar and a faker and you're hurting other trans people" that, and the denial of trans men's oppression. It's just cruel and bitter, and seeing other trans people go down this path is pretty disheartening

it's so depressing

Well, you see, it's not like saying they're transitioning from black to white, because OBVIOUSLY, just like race, your soulgender is immediately apparent to everyone as soon as you plop out the womb

lmao so true

(also I've heard soulgender is a Black thing and it should be spelled with like, a space or a hyphen? so I'm probably gonna do that from now on)

"Trans men are the White People of the trans community" Oh okay so yeah this is just "Ace people are the White People of the Queer Community" all over again huh Begging other whities to stop comparing race and gender like this, makes you look stupid as fuck

pls

Fascinated to know if the "All trans women are nonbinary" crowd also believe all trans men are nonbinary

you'd think so the way they insist trans men cling to being AFAB lmao

Went to check /-/'s blog and she's reblogging pro Chat-GPT and anti-copyright posts now

I'm tapping the sign.

as a nonbinary thing i feel like so much tma/tme shit just completely fucking forgets us like im not „occasionally mistaken as a trans woman” its a fucking coin flip!!!!!!!! my „AGAB” doesbt matter 2 ppl outside the the internet!!!!! all that matters is no matter what i wear no one wants me i their bathroom!!!!!

people don't even just hate you for when they mistake you for a trans woman anon they hate non-binary people AFAB too

i kinda feel like the discourse is becoming more mainstream now. im seeing a lot of trans bloggers who dont post much about trans issues making posts about it (usually along the lines of "can we be normal about trans guys please" which is nice)

good maybe the backlash will finally kick in

Idk if this is me generalizing but I’ve started noticing that headcanons of canonically male characters as trans women that get traction are usually skinny and have trauma or coded with anxiety or depression. Like idk if that means literally anything but just a weird observation I had

a lotta people on here literally define being a woman as when bad things happen to you lmao

I was looking at the Patricia Taxxon stuff (funny enough, did actually see you @ ed in deleted replies) and I saw the sentence “However, being discriminated on the basis of being perceived as a manly woman is just an adverse effect of transmisogyny directed towards trans men.” Which. Hey now. What about butch women. Like how does that not uniquely apply to cis butch lesbians, even if we ignore trans men entirely.

MAINSTREAM SOCIETY LOVES TOMBOYS

Man. It really sucks when a popular-ish figure you look up to turns out to be transandrophobic. Should have seen it coming ig. She was intersexist too, and those often go hand in hand.

well I mean it sounds like you shouldn't have looked up to her already lmao

IIRC from old drama, Patricia Taxxon also thinks toxic masculinity isn't a real thing that can harm men because it's just splash damage from misogyny and they should get over it, lol, so I'm not surprised if she's turned out to be weird about trans men

lmao literally just that radfem-libfem feminism-is-for-women comic huh

Tragic: local man forced to actually read Serano's writing for the theory he's trying to make even though the way she talks about transmasculinity and female gender nonconformity gives him a headache

F

[miyrumiyru]

☼ Hello, I love ART and Nature so much!!!💚

🌟 20s, Aquarius ♒ and Snake 🐍 (2025 will be my year!!!)

I'm Korean and still learning English!

I'm biologically a male but call me whatever you want, I don't care lol

#my photography - photographs taken by me (daily upload!)

#my artwork - artworks created by me 🌺

#butterfly - butterflies my beloved 🧡

#moth - forest fairies ❤️

[ ʚїɞ I believe butterfly (머루 ❤️ 나비) supremacy ʚїɞ ]

💡📒✏️🎶 Web animation series & Animated GIFs + Illustrations

📸🐛🦋🪲 Nature photography & Observation (South Korea)

⛓️Links (You could find me by searching @miyrumiyru) 📎GIPHY and Tenor (Animated GIFs!!!) 📎Cara.app (Artwork portfolios) 📎Bluesky (Their favicon is butterfly!!!) 📎iNaturalist (Check my iNat for entire observations!) ⚠️WARNING : DEAD & INJURED ANIMALS INCLUDED

🏳️‍🌈LGBTQIA+ and mental disorder friendly user ❤️🩷💛💙🖤🤍🩶

https://www.tumblr.com/blog/crimson-glory-vine (Things I love)

🛇 I don't want, use and support generative AI. They are viruses which are pollute the internet and world. Be ethical, do not use generative ai, spread the words and grab a pen! You're on the right side :D

crypto, nft, gen ai is a scam. don't fall for these things!

© Miyrumiyru

☮ I support PEACE! There is no good war, ever!!! Stop the freaking war, stop the terrible genocide and ecocide!!! I hope all of war criminals WILL DIE IN A FIRE. #freepalestine #standwithukraine

(fuck misogynist, fuck homophobia and fuck zionists etc… please go to hell)

All people should value all other lives, not only humans!

I'm really sorry but I can't donate for someone for now because I'm really really broke!

Below is literally my thoughts and random blah blah things!

Read them if you have enough time & want to know about me :>

◓ I can't always able to back some likes, reblogs and follows but I definitely and absolutely appreciate to all who reblogged, liked and comments my posts. Thank you!

Drawing tablet : Wacom PTH-660 (7 years old)

DSLR camera : Canon EOS 800D (4 years old) with cheapest lenses

They're old but I love them so much... /_ \

+++ Taxon of my observations on tumblr could be corrected after published! (or just check my iNat would be more accurate :>)

I don't adjust photos that much, like color filter or low saturation or "aesthetic" adjustment… etc, because nature itself is already beautiful :)

*I research the internet to spend many time for provide the right IDs of precious insects, but It can be wrong when their families are so simillar! if you find that IDs are wrong, please let me know ^_____^

🚫SCAMS AND STEALING - NOT ALLOWED!!!🚫

My favorite quote "Learn from the past, look to the future, but live in the present." - Petra Němcová Don't seek validation about anything from others when you make a decision and choices! because all of us are free（*＾-＾*） Never dwell on past. Learn from the mistakes and failure, so we can live our lives and reach the dream!

I hope my wildlife observation posts are reveal the true beauty of nature and its live (not just because they're "pretty"), so everyone can be able to preserve the precious nature 💚

(Taxon of my old posts could be inaccurate or outdated because lack of knowledge!Please visit my iNaturalist for accurate taxon)

Again! I don't want, use and support generative AI. It causing so many unethical problems (misuse, copyright infringement and huge energy waste… etc). They are viruses that polluting the internet and world.

I don't and won't use generative ai to my artworks and animation.

Please don't ever support the selfishest "sport", golf, If you thinking about nature and future of all lives in this planet. It's enemy of the nature and lives including human (If you don't know that mass destruction golf is bring, you should search it right now. There is no environmental safety unless it's VR screen golf) because human couldn't live without nature. I say that it's one of most greediest and selfish things humans can commit.

If you play the golf or generate image, video and text with generative ai and don't feel any remorse, remember that your selfish actions are causing the endless surfer to other lives.

[theskeletonprior]

Time for a fresh new introduction! I have exactly one banner which I repeatedly alter to suit my needs, so please enjoy it. I've really stepped into this modern era.

I have many names, but here, you can call me Harrowben.

30's. They/them and he/hymn. Biracial. Nonbinary transgender. Polyamorous. Skeleton. BA English Language and Literature. Professional Dungeon Master. Probably not but possibly two-time Academy Award Winner Guillermo del Toro. (I wrote a text post that got remarkably out of hand one time.)

Formerly a bookseller, I now work as a professional Dungeon Master with a local theatre company to make a living. I’m also (slowly) learning to bind books. Sometimes, I even try to write them. Occasionally, when the mood takes me, I also write fanfiction. I like to make digital layouts for books, and of course I love to read! Books are my whole life. I'm a trained editor, and like most everyone these days, I am for hire. Feel free to inquire if you're looking for some fiction. Words are what I do. Catch me ramblings about original work and characters, skeletons (of course!), bookbinding, and book arts, spooky nonsense, nature being its beautiful terrible self, monsters and the people who love them, that sort of thing. I do reblog fandom things from time to time, chiefly when the aesthetic vibes well with mine, or when the brainrot becomes too severe to contain.

If you need anything tagged, feel free to reach out, anon or otherwise. It’s important to me that my blog is as safe and comfy as it can be.

BIGOTED SHIT. I CAN'T STRESS ENOUGH HOW MUCH YOU SHOULD FUCK OFF IF YOU'RE A FASCIST PIECE OF SHIT. This was initially a placeholder so I would remember what I wanted to make so abundantly clear, but I stand by it. TERFs and Nazi Punks fuck off. Zionist assholes can also kick rocks. There's no place for you with me. Better yourself and stop being soulless fucking shit-lickers.

The Bishop of Black

Honestly, my pride and joy. The Bishop of Black is an ongoing and deeply queer high-fantasy light novel that I'm writing together with my husband @alexanderflowerbird who does all of the incredible art.

In a nation torn by a war that has been waged for centuries, tensions run high as the Kingdoms of Black and White seem to be on the verge of a lasting peace after generations of strife and bloodshed. Femi, a medic in the Kingdom of Black, is swept up into the dangerous politics of the court after a horrible tragedy returns them to the brink of war.

Check out our reading guide, if you like.

RAVENOT

My most developed WIP. A dark fantasy novel about a skeleton knight who ventures into places where the living can never go, to safeguard the balance between life and death.

You can read the first chapter for free here!

AO3 | Ko-fi | Bluesky | Patreon (coming... when it gets here)

[whoiwanttoday]

Hey guys, here is some Pigeon Foo, who a little birdy has told me wants to go see Dragula. That little birdy is Pigeon Foo on her instagram and by tells me I mean posted it publicly and I read it but the beauty of the internet is we can all delude yourself into really dangerous ways of thinking about everything being about us. It's good in situations like this because you get to feel special that someone is giving you information but overall it's pretty bad because you will start to take everything as a personal slight. Inflation has gone up just to fuck me, the team I wanted to win lost just to hurt me, and so on. Anyway, my point is that Pigeon Foo told everyone but mostly me that she wants to go see Dragula and I greatly encourage this behavior cause the Boulet Brothers fucking rule. I am not a drag show person, in the sense that I don't really go to them or watch any drag stuff, though also in the sense that I do not participate in drag shows either, I am barely glamorous enough to have an anonymous blog on the internet, I would never cut it at a drag show. Anyway, it is not for me but I am aware of them and they are charming and awesome and have great taste in horror movies and really have enjoyed when they show up on things and I am very well aware that Dragula is a big deal. It was across the street from my house a few months ago acutely and boy, things sounded wild in the line to the theater. People were psyched. Anyway, Pigeon Foo wants to go and I think she should so I am here to endorse that. Now, I know some of you are saying, "Look, I am just here to look at hot girls and mostly I am into boobs, stop it with all this thinky nonsense where you talk about how girls with interesting interests are interesting" and I would tell you I would never phrase it that way because you basically used a derivative of interest three times in four words and I am a much more talented wordsmith than that, it's why they let me have this blog. Also I would say that you should hold onto all of your horses because I am here to tell you besides having excellent taste, Pigeon Foo also has boobs. Two of them I know of, she'd have to clarify if she has more hidden somewhere but I am confident there are two. I know this because I have just seen a ton of pictures of her boobs. I am the only person on the internet who is both not religious and meticulously going through pictures of women only to say in announce, "Dammit, I can see a nipple". So what I am saying is she has boobs. Here is the better news, you can see pictures and videos of them if you want. You just have to buy these things from her, a service she provides as a small business owner and backbone of the American economy. What I am saying is everyone gets something out of this. She gets to see Dragula, you get to see boobs, and all of us get a robust and healthy economic system that ensures us a better future. You'd be a fool not to do this. Now, I am going to ping her here because maybe she can provide better actual details about how you go about this, the thing where you exchange money for goods and services is a pretty easy concept but sometimes the specifics are tough to track down. I do know that if you go to her twitter that she absolutely has instructions there somewhere though. So head there. Or @pigeonfoo maybe reblogs this or reply with instructions to check the notes. Or google. Guys, it's like they always said about ancient Rome, all roads lead to boobs if you try hard enough. Anyway, enjoy these pictures because if you didn't know, she isn't just someone who likes Dragula, she's someone who likes Dragula and is actually quite attractive. So enjoy. Today I want to fuck Pigeon Foo.

[tetradic-echinoidea]

It makes me sad that so much of the creative community on social media has succumbed into this petty squable about what kind of engagement is worthwile and how creators aren't content machines (which is true! but!) and how they're all going to leave if people don't start giving their energy to these creators in a specific way... like, girl. You know that's extremely toxic, right? You know that your followers and their followers aren't engagement machines only there to spread validation and help all artists grow an audience? That it's not ANY individual's job to build an audience for YOU??

If you've looked at social media these days, literally everything and everyone is screaming for our attention all the fucking time! Hey you're not engaging with the news enough, or in the correct way, or hey you didn't give a statement about this or that or you're not supporting artists and creators, because you are only liking things, which doesn't "do anything". By the way buy this product! Help these hundreds of people fundraising for money, why do you not reblog their posts?! Why aren't you caring enough?? Wow, you only liked this post again? Why aren't you helping these people??

Like. I'm sorry to say but as much as social media and the internet connects us, everyone has the right to determine the level of connection they want to have with you. Creators don't owe content to anyone, but no one fundementally owes them their energy and time (or space on their blog!) either.

Staking the existence of your creative pursuits on strangers, without their knowledge, is doomed to fail. A random person seeing your post and liking it has no clue you have set them an expectation of "helping you build your audience". They are primarily engaging with your work in a way that is comfortable and natural for them - whether or not that is through a simple like, reblog or a comment/ask. It might also reflect on how much they liked the thing they saw - or maybe they want to check it out later, who knows. It doesn't really matter. It does everyone a disservice assuming the worst of people who don't engage in the way you decided is correct and worthwile. You can't force people to be moved by your work, or to want to show it to other people. If they don't they don't. They aren't doing anything wrong by engaging with the things they truly love and care about, and not engaging with things that they do not want to engage with.

Sitting there seething that the people walking by aren't stopping to talk to you isn't gonna make those people wanna stop and talk to you. They don't fucking know or care that you want something specific from them in return for putting yourself out there on a website out of your own volition.

The unfortunate thing about creating art is that it is sometimes very lonely, and difficult. But there are things you can do to alleviate that without putting unfair and toxic expectations on total strangers. At some point you have to just realize, that to get the sort of engagement and conversation you want you need to go somewhere and ask for that. Whether it be your friends, mutuals, people you share fandoms with, or asking a more experienced creator for feedback. Finding groups where everyone wants to share and receive feedback.

I reblog things from my friends, and things that really speak to me or that I have something to say about, because that's what I want to be doing on my little blog. I wanna support the artists I wanna support! It doesn't mean I don't want the art I don't reblog to succeed, but no one can give their time and space to everything and anything they see. Give it to the things you like! Give it to the things you authentically want to give it to! I don't know about you guys but I would rather have 1 reblog by a person who really fucking loved something I did rather than 10 reblogs by people who reblog everything they come across out of some sense of duty.

Also, I am just asking - if the point of reblogs is to spread the work of an artist how the hell is a "dump side blog" with likely no followers going to do anything?? Anyway, sorry to the 5 non-bot and non-dead followers I have, I just needed to have another 0 note rant on the tungle because this shit irritates me to the nth degree. Truly social media's idea about helping and community is so fucked and full of toxic entitlement. Ideally a community is a place where people help each other, but social media is like. million little disjointed islands of semi-communities and constant flow of strangers between them. It really is not the ideal place for that deep sense of belonging.

[paper-pixies]

Me when I reblog an ask game hoping you’ll reblog it >:D I have questions about your guys for you <3

Let’s do 31 for Asylum/Bloodlust, 23 and/or 12 for Shilan, and 98 for Adriite to start :)

Oh nooo don't trick me into reblogging an ask game by putting it on your blog first....how awful.....anyway....

31. How would they describe one another? [Asylum/Bloodlust]

“Bloodlust is… well, he’s incredibly loyal to me. He may not be a complete buffoon but he certainly isn’t the brightest, and he does what I tell him with exceptional efficiency, so what more could I really ask for? He does my dirty work and cleans up the messes so that I rarely have to engage with the less savory parts of this lifestyle, knowing that I will reward him when the task is done. And yes, he may be something of an uneducated brute, but that’s exactly what I keep him for and, well, no one else is so absolutely devout as he is. He’s like my loyal hound, always obedient and eager to please, and I do love him for that. I mean, is there really any other sort of relationship worth having with a man?”

“Describe Asylum? I mean she’s a goddess, what more do you want? She does whatever she wants and gets whatever she wants and doesn’t give a shit about what anyone else tries to tell her to do. She’s fuckin’, crazy smart too, just always twenty steps ahead of everyone else, like she’s already got everyone in her spiderweb even if they don’t know it yet. She’s just in control of everything and if she’s not in control of something then it’s because it’s not important enough for her to waste her time on. She’s powerful as hell and damn scary, too. She put up with a lotta fucked up shit from people in the past and now she makes sure everyone knows they should be afraid of her. If she’s pissed at you? You’re already a dead man, doesn’t matter what you try— if you’re lucky maybe she’ll beat the shit out of you herself. She’s beautiful, just the most fucking beautiful woman to ever live, puts every topside and Midcrest bitch to shame without even trying. I swear she’s a gift from the spirits and we’re all just lucky enough to get to be alive at the same time she is.”

23. Who said "I love you" first? [Shilan]

As the one who takes most of the big steps in their relationship, Taylan said it first. And pretty soon into their relationship, too. Now that that door has been opened though, Shiloh absolutely says it more.

12. What is something their S/O does that makes them flustered? [Shilan]

Taylan doesn’t get flustered that much but despite his pacifism it does get him when Shiloh does/offers violence. Obviously, he would never want his partner to kill people ever if possible, but maybe sometimes when Shiloh says they would kill anyone who got in the way of their being together, maybe that makes Taylan a little flustered. And don’t get him started on the times Shiloh has jumped in to fight off some Forest monster or other to keep him safe.

Shiloh is easy to fluster purely because they just think Taylan is so incredibly attractive, so him showing any extent of skin will pretty much do it. Which is completely just a Shiloh thing, their clan isn’t stressed about covering up and it isn’t a thing with anyone else besides Taylan, they truly just think this man is so stunning that it’s likely to instantly get them even if Tay isn’t intentionally trying to fluster them in the slightest. It took them a while to get used to seeing him without a shirt lol

98. Who would burn the world down for who? [Adriite]

Ace, easily. Pyrite has too strict of a moral code to ever allow herself to do something like that for any one person, whereas Ace has been on the brink of snapping more than once and has always been more willing to prioritize those close to him above anything and everything else. Of course, it would take quite a bit for Ace to take that path if Pyre was actually with them. Just having her around is often enough to help Ace keep himself in check, but he’s also well aware of the fact that she would absolutely despise him if he ever did anything like that for her sake.

[frostbite-the-bat]

what do you do in petz + how the fuck is spam tong in petz

ok, so! petz, or in this case, PF Magic Petz specifically, is an old, OLD pet simulator game from the 90s! it's made to run on doo-doo potato computers, and uses it's own wacky technonogy called, and bear with me, "ballz", to render the pet models.

there's other games by pf magic, but we'll focus on petz. before they became stinky ubisoft petz. (ubisoft bought petz) nono ignore that. this is PURE FUCKIN' MAGIC PETZ! (thats what pf stands for)

you adopt a dog or a cat... and you take care of it! and unlike most modern pet sims - your pet truly has a personality of its own. for the game's age it's actually surprisingly complex, and the community is finding new things each year! i believe just last year (or two years ago??) we found out petz have FAVORITE COLORS.

each pet is unique in their own way!! signature animations, favorite foods, what relationships they have with other petz, how you've trained them... one pet may love being fed cheese, while the other may not.

of course there's also personalities for each breed, as each breed has it's own personality. i can't explain this one well, so give this a read!

i used to play petz a lot more back then, nowadays i just check in on it sometimes, but the genuine connection you may get to feel towards your silly guys is real.

fun fact i only adopt cats. i dont do my breeding from scratch but the guys i adopt from other people or PUGS (petz universal game site) (i hope i got that right) i dont like the sounds dogs make. i still need to finish graphics for all my cats. heres some of them. i love them.

what really makes this game is the community! it's a small, but surprisingly lively and friendly community! many of these people may even be twice your age, enjoying this silly pet game online with everyone, it's wonderful! the game is very moddable, and people make their own breeds, toys, areas... anything you think of, it can be put in this game with enough time and creativity!

some people make realistic, breeds, and some people make Silly Guys! like me for example! i'm really into fan-made media petz! it's how i got into the game, after all! i've made some hexied (modded petz) of my own!

ralsei is my best example. gif taken from my site

also, most people around the petz community have their own websites! for their downloads, shows, or to show off their petz!! what you can do is endless. i made my site because of that, though it's in constant disrepair and i SWEAR one day i will move to neocities.

and yes!! shows!! people do shows!! you can pose and take pictures of your petz and it'S actually a very pixel precise thing, trying to get your pet to do a show pose! people do these shows on forums and even give each other little graphic trinkets like badges!!

speaking of graphics... STAMPS!! petz fans love stamps!! i collect some, too, but my collection isnt as impressive as some other people.

people even have stamps for their own sites, that's where these come from!!

already creeping to petz spamton, dont worry!

but about petz hexing, i wanna give a shout out to the skinstealer system at the bad_death site. i admire their work so much. check it out!!! i reblog their things sometimes. (well..on my petz blog but i'll start doing so here, too)

ANYWAYS. PETZ SPAMTON. WHAT IN TOON IS THAT.

Well. you prolly werent there for it but petz spamton took some places of the internet by storm and OH BOY WAS IT BOTH REALLY COOL BUT ALSO VERY TIRING SOMETIME. im not the creator, i do not take credit, however i am partially responsible as that entity was created on my server. (after my friends talked about the reanimated joshua and the promised land video from saberspark - its a big collab and we talked about the people who worked on it. one of them was Moonkitti who has a petz profile picture. i then left the convo but my friend who i wont name so they feel comfy <3 remembered petz and had the wonderful idea of Modding Spamton Into It.)

i was graced with being able to see THE BEASTS PREMIERE. AND LATE AT NIGHT, WATCHING A DISCORD CALL OF THIS THING BEING BORN, SCREEN RECORDING IT ON MY PHONE.... LATER USING THE FOOTAGE TO MAKE This Infamous Video.

petz spamton doesnt look like this anymore its had many updates. (you can see the history on my spamtons as id update a new one and keep it with certain updates!! for example otterpop doesnt have colored paw pads, but mango does.) but this is the original. i had an og adopted as well but i lost it </3 BACK UP YOUR FILES BACK UP YOUR FILES BACK UP YOUR FILES BACK UP YOUR FILES. I MISS YOU CHEESE-TON.

and WELL.. PEOPLE LIKED THIS MOD...! much much fanart... and even some drama uh oh please people dont sexualize feral animals. thanks. go to hell and die. it was both very fun but as you can imagine it got overwhelming especially for my friend so i am keeping them anonymous!! they do have a sideblog for petz just named "petzspamton" if you want to see The Og.

it got many people into petz!! it was wonderful to see people discover this old game. hell! even i got into it this way! though as trends are, they usually go away eventually. i stay however because im ill. hashtag number one spamton pet breeder. dont take it the wrong way. i like spamton mixies.

oh yeah! the breeding in this game! SURPRISINGLY VERY COMPLEX. WONT BE GETTING INTO IT. but! two petz can have a baby! including modded petz! it can create Monstrosities. but some are niceys! i like both the cursed ones because funny but also getting some niceys to keep :) i have many mixed spamtons!!

for example iceshock (white) and creature! (grey)

the possibilities truly are endless !!

but yeah. the hype died down but its always funny meeting people, talking about interests, we get to deltarune. I mention petz, then they say oh yeah petz spamton i know that AND THEN THEY REALIZE WHO I AM "YOU MADE THAT SPAMTON VIDEO" BRUH IT HAS 4K VIEWS ONLY LIKE HOW DO YOU FIND THIS SHIT . THIS HAPPENED ONCE OVER SOMEONE I MET ON A FUCKING CLUB PENGUIN PRIVATE SERVER. i do not like micro fame but oh my god this shit is always so fucking insane and funny to me i love it i love being a fucking cryptid. BUT ANYWAYS

things layed dormant. petz spamton server dead as hell. my own server #living tho #gaming #swag #iamruinbornaftonialwayscomeback.

and then... THEN... SPAMTON SWEEPSTAKES OCCURS. AND THERES A PETZ MENTION THERE. DID WE CAUSE THAT? OR IS IT TOBY JUST LIKING OLD GAMES AS HE DOES.

WELL READ MORE HERE BECAUSE I TALKED ABOUT THIS ON MY WEBBED SITE !

BUT YES. SPAMTON IS IN PETZ NOW. IM PARTIALLY RESPONSIBLE. ITS PROBABLY BEEN REFERENCED BY TOBY FOX??? IF YES THEN I HAVE 2 NICKELS FOR HAVING A THING IM RESPONSIBLE/PARTIALLY RESPONSIBLE FOR BEING NOTICED BY THE CREATORS. NOT A LOT BUT WEIRD IT HAPPENED TWICE.

PLEASE ASK ME ABOUT MY SPAMTONS. I LOVE THEM.

but man if i may get goopy orizfhhguguughh ill be fr height of petz spamton hype got Tiring .im sosososos glad the server we had for it was tiny as hell and secret because MAN. URUGHH

[fictionkinfessions]

Hey, it's that anon from earlier complaining about the tagging mistakes... I just wanted to apologize for blowing up at you like I did.

I really wasn't thinking about what I was saying, and I've just been going through it recently, so pretty much anything was about to set me off. I know that's no excuse to take it out on you, and I'm so sorry. I never meant to hurt anyone. In my head at the time, I was giving valid criticism, but I see that I made a big mistake going about that the way I did. I was a complete and total asshole. I understand that you're only one person running this blog, so of course you won't be able to catch every mistake, and I'm ashamed of my ignorance and the way I acted.

Everyone else, please stop dogpiling me over this. I learned my lesson, I apologized, it's done, it's over with. I get it, I made a huge mistake. It wouldn't be the first time.

Either way, I hope you can forgive me. I'm a little embarrassed that not only did I have the audacity to say all of that stuff, but that it's now just on the internet for the world to see. Not that it's anyone's fault but mine. Thank you for your time, and I'm sorry once again. /gen

I don't know if you'll even see this but I'll try posting it anyways. Sorry it took so long, I wanted to think about what to say since I'd only get one chance.

This accidentally got long so there's a summary at the bottom. I know huge blocks of text can be difficult to parse. And a read more. Tada!

I accept your apology and understand you really did mean well. I know I fuck up tags fairly often and there are ways to mitigate that on my part. Like you suggested, double checking with a search is not impossible of me. Like I mentioned in a reblog of that post, I will make an effort in the future to search names and try to get it right the first time around. You were right to have sent that message. If you noticed and got irritated, I'm sure others have as well. I'm glad you went through the effort of sending a message about it. The point of tags is to ensure people can find their confessions. They can't do that if it's in the wrong place. I would disagree a bit, regarding memorizing sources and names. Yes I can recognize most names and sources, both stated and through confession context. I have done this long enough that it's usually accurate. But there are countless sources, names, and AU / fan created sources. I don't believe it's possible to memorize all of them. I think your suggestion of double checking with a search is reasonable and I will do so in the future. You seem very kind and compassionate, and I think you could understand where I'm coming from, regarding this.

[side note. You're not wrong about memorizing custom tags. I did have a little text document with custom tags and pre-typed names and sources. But at some point I stopped adding to it when it got overwhelmingly long and out of date when people stopped using their custom tags. Johnny Americanidiot, where you go? It also had reminders for what sources needed blacklist tagss. That didn't help the huge swathes of text that my eyes kept skipping over.... Anyways]

I am sorry you got dogpiled. I can understand where they are coming from, and I think they meant well too. I am glad to see people defending me. But I think at some point it went from blunt correction to outright bullying. Considering we get shit on by everyone who thinks kin people eat real gemstones because they're dragonkin, it really sucks to do that to each other. I hope we can all keep that in mind, going forward from here.

I will admit, and I don't mean this in a guilt trip way, that yeah that message did make me step back for a few days. I was more hurt over the tone than the correction. It made me wonder if doing this for so long made people take this blog for granted. You know what I mean? I've been here since 2016, on the first fictionkinfessions blog. Hell, I was a mod on the first @/kinfessions blog for a short while. I do this for fun, as far as typing tags and posting things others sent in can be considered fun. I always thought that if it was more trouble than it's worth, I'd just quit. Someone else can handle it until they felt it was time to pass it on. I don't think I've reached that point yet. I still like reading what people have to say and seeing people reach out, make connections through ask responses or reblogs or replies. It's endearing that they have a chance to do so.

[Not to get philosophical, but has anyone considered how lucky we are to exist simultaneously in this time and place? We get to live together and connect to each other, millions of miles apart. I think that's neat. Otherwise we'd all be that one Oddball in the Village who says they were once King Arthur /joking]

Anyways. I'm ok now. There was hurt and now it's gone. We're ok.

I promise I do take it seriously and make the effort. If I tag incorrectly or fail to tag a content warning, it's never on purpose. [excluding, you know, silly tags like 'ohio cw' or 'capitalism cw'. I think that's clearly intended as humorous and not sincere trigger warnings.]

The confessions are tagged, I don't delete confessions I personally don't like, the queue is always running, the followers list cleaned of spam bots, the activity page monitored for the very rare peer abuse [bullying], ask responses and such non-confessions usually get queued up asap, etc. Sometimes I think other people might be better suited for this just because they may not had adhd rearing its head. [Also not a guilt trip, I don't talk about my medical history much and I don't expect anyone to remember this tidbit. Also not an excuse, just a explanation as to why my memory does not work sometimes. Zest la vee.]

I don't know how to end this. Here is the summary.

In Summary

I accept your apology. Thank you for coming back and talking this out. I am sorry you were dogpiled and don't entirely agree with the amount of negative attention. I think it went past a reasonable limit of common courtesy at some point. I understand where you were coming from and I agree with what you said. I was hurt by your tone but I'm not any more. I will make the effort to double check names and sources. I hope whatever you were / are going through passes quickly. We'll be ok one day! I must believe!

Connie / mod party cat!

[captainaikus]

that's a relief! the fact that you remember your anons makes me feel very warm and fuzzy 😭 happy that you think of me when you listen to chase atlantic 🫶 speaking of kaiser... that man was a literal menace during the previous bllk chapters omg i fucking hate him (holy shit i think i fell for him deeper 😞 my taste in personified red flags is extremely questionable) nonetheless, i'm looking forward to your next works!

really glad you've been faring well and your ao3 move is doing good. i get your point and i agree w/ it. tumblr's system is shit. some authors get like 700+ likes from posting a twt p0rn link?? i have nothing against them, if that's what some people prefer then so be it. but seeing the small authors who pump out actual high-quality content and not getting enough appreciation for it is saddening. in the first place i downloaded tumblr solely for the purpose of reading fanfics and poetry-related stuff. now all i see are twt p0rn links flooding my feed and that never ever fails to tick me off (come on man i just want to read some fics with good plots 😞). the main reason i haven't deleted this app yet is because of some authors i follow (including you), who actually work their asses off for their readers. that's something i highly appreciate. i'll admit—ao3 is better when it comes to giving smaller authors justice. at least you won't have pussyass anons coming after you in the most passive-aggressive way possible for no reason :D

i wish you the best of luck! ❤️

– 🌷

Apologies for responding to this late; I really like uncomfortable by chase atlantic and heaven and back is giving me some ideas... gonna start working on that when i'm done with this wip - Honey. I love like Aiku, he is literally the biggest red flag you can find in bllk (smh Idek why I fell for him - literally saw him and said yes.) I love him sm After reading his panels and guessing everything right about him, we're soulamtes my soulmate is actually Sae though... but we don't walk about that I'm waiting for the next chapter to drop so that i can see the loml 😭 Rant ahead so feel free to skip - Exactly the point. Like here's the thing about the author community on tumblr. I've usually stuck to my own blog cause of it - when you get buddy with some authors; it comes with its own set of problems cause when they get dragged into some kind of a discourse, everyone they've spoken to get dragged into it as well, even readers come up with some really crazy theories regarding content, similarities etc etc. It's one of the reasons that i'm not a very author to author interactive blog with just dropping in here and there. Not to mention that authors tend to stick to their own online circle and getting into one isn't as easy as it looks? They will judge you by the amount you have reblogged which shouldn't be the case tbh. And i don't reblog other author's works since i stopped reading things 2 years ago here and ever since I started writing ff i only checked the tags for seeing if my work turned up or not. Rather than preferring an author and author relationship, i prefer having one with my readers since they are the ones to hype my works up and send me good feedback. I feel really bad for small time authors on this platform cause authors who have dominated one fandom, entirely; are getting into smaller fandoms - and with their huge followings, they tend to take most of the space and fame compared to small time authors who have some really good quality content. Like was taking one or even two fandom/s not enough? But then its always the same story of "what's wrong with being a multi-fandom blog?" or "We're creating free/ quality content so what's the problem?" The discourse and the toxicity here is actually never ending, it's something that I've been noticing for four years now... and it was high time that i moved to ao3 cause here both authors and readers are toxic, cause authors are trying to keep readers down sometimes and readers... some of the them report your work even if it takes hours to create it. Not to mention that it even escalates to getting death threats which is another level of extremism cause of the lack of sensitivity that there's an actual breathing live person on the other side of the screen. Coming to the links that people attach to their posts and decide to post them, half the time I just think about the 15k notes from giving a visual from twitter that's not even their own content to begin with. Like yes, there are people who like erotica on the internet but in fandoms, its more of the literary work compared to a visual unless its drawn. and it makes me think how easy it was to make that and here you have some of us just... slogging it out or working hard on every line since it's more handmade compared to this. and what's weird is that authors seem to not pick up that queue and continue doing it. My opinion might seem harsh but it is what it is.

[daydreaming-scheming-demon]

sorry, im really not sure i buy all this.

but yeah, i did get a lot of things wrong here. some that i cleared up in other reblogs, but the version you reblogged was the one that got the most popular unfortunately. i wish people would reblog the other version more.

first off i want to say, this was never intended to be a massive informational post. this was originally random venting i did while half asleep, not even tagged if i remember right. my blog’s not exactly popular, i never expected it to be this big. ive managed to clear some things up in the comments and reblogs tho.

my use of the word ‘basically’ was pretty poor here, i never intended to imply it had already been passed, just that it was very likely to be passed and everybody besides the greens is on board with it. it is very likely to pass. but no, it has not passed. only more reason to get angry about it in my opinion, means there’s time.

secondly, yes, the method has not been fully decided on yet, that was included in the article i limked, and i hope it wouldnt be giving companies your id, but that’s a very real possibility, and the other methods ive seen i just dont feel would hold up well. id has been the main method that’s been talked about here, im not super comforted by ‘but they could use this other thing’. and i couldnt see corporations giving up the chance to collect more personal data unless they had good reason not to, and everything ive seen on it says the burden will be on the corporations. so unless that info’s wrong, that sounds like something to panic about. but yes, it does feel wrong to be making it out as if it could only been that, i shouldve mentioned that in the original post.

look, i like you doing all this, these are some good resources, my original post was a half asleep vent, it was bound to have inaccuracies or misinformation, and im sorry about that, i really am.

but where i really stop following you is when you say this proposal has no teeth.

especially because ive felt the exact same way for a while, and even in my original post, i knew it had ‘no teeth’ in a way, but i didnt say anything on it because i didnt see it as important enough. yes, i shouldve still mentioned it anyway, that there will be ways to get around it. but i didnt mention it bc it’s still dangerous.

there would be no penalties for users who managed to access social media without going through the check, i know, i was never expecting that, only someone who has little idea on how the internet works would expect that. even if the burden werent on the platforms, nobody’s going to take notice of a single under 16 year old slipping into social media. if they managed to do that id be wondering why im not locked up for pirating all the shit i have.

no, anybody tech savvy enough could find ways around this law, if not a vpn then something else.

i was never afraid of the law because i truly thought id have to hand over my id to social media or stop using it. that’s not the fucking problem. the fear i have for myself is the inconvenience of having to setup a vpn just to browse tumblr, but not everyone is tech savvy enough to find ways around these laws, most people arent, most social media users would probably just end up giving up their id or stop using it. and that could be a fucking problem. maybe a cybersecurity nightmare, but also just blatantly allowing and normalising more absurd data collection, more privacy invasion. even without all that, the bandaid solution of locking children out of social media instead of tackling the actual problem infuriates me.

and the biggest thing im worried about is the precedent. this law is fucking absurd, even if it can be broken without punishment. weilding kids’ safety as a weapon, banning an entire group of people from one of the largest ways of communicating today, allowing companies to force id collection if they so wish, even if they all go a different way those other ways dont sound very good either. a law like being considered and especially passing isnt a good sign for the future.

the best i can hope for besides the law not passing at all is that the companies will fail to enforce it so badly that it causes something awful, like, idk, the system being unsustainable somehow, some massive data breach. which no, wouldnt be a good thing, but itd hopefully set the precedent not to try anymore laws like this, instead of being a precedent to keep going.

look, pull me up on my mistakes all you like. other people have done what youve done here and i appreciate it, actually. i never expected this to get as big as it did, i made mistakes here.

but dont bloody well tell me this law isnt worth anybody’s attention and we should all just ignore it and ‘not get side tracked’. i think i have every right to be worried about this, and your reasoning for why i shouldnt be worried was just telling me things i already knew.

course this law is still a fuckin problem, a small portion of the population knowing how to bypass it and not get punished doesnt change anything.

and look, im genuinely sorry about this but im not gonna be replying to whatever response you’ve already been planning out as you read this, im probably not even gonna see it considering the amount of notifications i get every minute. correct me if i got any objective information wrong, but im bloody tired of all this, ive been hearing so much depressing shit these past couple weeks about the goings on of this miserable fucking planet and it’s making me miserable. and being told information i already know about some stupid law i vented about one night doesnt really make me feel much better about it, this law still looks depressing to me, it all does. i dont want a debate even if this is worded like the beginning of one, i only replied because i cant help myself sometimes and i probably shouldnt have been looking at my notifications seeing how bad i already feel.

fucking australia’s trying to get everyone to link their government id to their social media accounts else you cant use them anymore, the actual fuck is wrong with this country

[itslottiehere]

the one that could have been — (h.s)

hello beautiful people 🤍 welcome back! this is inspired by one on my favourite ‘friends’ episode — season 6 episodes 15 and 16 — named, as you can see from the title, “the one that could have been”. i had so much fun writing this, and i hope you all enjoy it. please, do let me know what you think! and if you have any requests, don’t be afraid of leaving them in my asks, i’ll look through them as soon as possible. if you wish to read something else from me, you can check the tag “my writing” on my blog (i still need to make a masterlist). thank you for reading! please like, reblog and let me know what you think! it really helps me a lot <3

tw: swearing, fluff, angst (?) a tiiiiny bit of smut (?)

word count: 5.1k

masterlist | let me know what you think here

—

he tried his best not to look so shocked, but the red on her cheeks told him he wasn’t doing a great job at hiding his surprise.

“stop looking at me like i’m some freak show! not everyone got to be the captain of the football team, someone had to be the loser in band.”

“you weren’t a loser, you were just quiet and-“

“harry, i was in band and i played the big ass drum in costume. it’s okay to say that i wasn’t the coolest person in school.”

“i thought you were cool.”

“you thought i was nice enough to let you copy my homework, which i was. but yeah, you must’ve found something in me if you stuck around even after high school.”

“hey! i talked to you because i thought you were nice, and cool and funny. and perhaps it had to do a little with the homework stuff, but mostly the other things!”

you threw him your napkin and laughed at how silly he was.

“but you can’t blame me for being a little surprised.”

and, here it was.

“i knew i shouldn’t have told you anything! now you think i’m weird and now everything between us is going to be weird and fuck, you’re a shit friend sometimes.”

“hey! i’m not! and i’m sorry for how i reacted, it’s just that i wasn’t expecting for this date to be your first... date. nothing wrong with that though! it’s perfectly fine!”

so, the thing is she was a virgin. she was 25 and hadn’t had a date yet, which isn’t something she was embarrassed about, she was waiting for the right person. but the look on harry’s face, who was staring at her with a “oh my god you have two heads” look, made her feel a little embarrassed. she knew who she was talking to, and having known him since high school meant that he told her all about his excapades, while she quietly listened to him and never said anything else. he was always so open about all his experiences, and he just figured she was more closed off, which was totally fine, and he wouldn’t pry informations about that part of her life: if she wanted to let him know, he would gladly listen, but whenever she is comfortable enough to do so.

though, if harry had to be totally honest, her not sharing that part of her life with him — until recently, that is — was maybe for the best: he doesn’t like it, but he can be of the jealous kind. and to think about anyone getting that close with his best friend, who was basically the best person walking on earth, made him feel something in his chest, something he couldn’t quite put a finger on.

“so, where’s this james guy taking you?”

“uhm, actually he’s coming over, i’m going to cook him dinner.”

“oh, that’s nice! your cooking is amazing, he’s going to love it.”

“yeah, i hope so.” she nibbled on her lip.

“hey, come here.” he held out his hands for her, waiting for her to take them. “if he’s not a total idiot, he will love it. and if he doesn’t, then he doesn’t deserve you. please, please don’t settle for someone who isn’t worthy of you. especially for something so important to you.”

she knew harry was a sweet person, who cared about her feelings, but it still shocked her a little bit, because he had such a serious look in his eyes.

“yeah, i know H, thank you for worrying.” she gave him a tight-lipped smile. “but now, leave.”

“excuse me? are you kicking me out?”

“yeah, i am.”

“but whyyy?” he whined like a grumpy child. all that was missing was him stomping his foot on the ground, to complete the picture.

“have you already forgotten that i have a date tonight for which i have to get ready?”

“yeah but i can still stay here a while, can’t i?” he was giving her those puppy eyes, that menace. she knew what he was doing.

“no! stop looking at me with those eyes.” she laughed. “i’m so sorry, i wish you could but i have to get dinner ready and get ready myself, and i feel like i’m already running behind.”

“alright, alright.. i’m leaving... all alone... by myself... kicked out by my own best friend... in the whole world...” he dragged every word, dragging his feet on the ground.

good god, he was such a man child at times.

“i promise i’ll text you if something weird happens and i feel uncomfortable. or else, you’ll be hearing from me tomorrow morning.” she really wished she was going to text him the following morning.

“alright angel, let me know if everything is okay. i’ll be over in a heartbeat if it isn’t. and remember: don’t overthink too much, try to enjoy your date.” he put his hands on her shoulder and looked into her eyes, because this was important and he wanted her to know she really had to enjoy tonight.

“i will, thanks H.” she ushered him towards the door, and opened it, basically shoving him out of her home.

“byeeeee. oh wait-“ he was almost out of the door. “please send me a pic of your outfit, i’m curious.” he said, raising his eyebrows in a teasing manner.

“yeah yeah, bye now.” she closed the door behind him, put her back against it, closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

now it was time to get everything ready.

she decided to prepare dinner and set the table first, before getting ready herself, so she went to the kitchen and started making her famous lasagna. harry went crazy for it, he always asked her to prepare it for his birthday dinner.

“it can count as my present! i won’t ask for anything else, i promise!”

she knew it was really good, it was her nonna’s recipe, so of course it was delicious. she grew up eating it, and whenever she cooked it, it was like she was brought back into that small kitchen, in the italian countryside, her nonna and nonno smiling at her because she had sauce all over her mouth. maybe it was stupid, but cooking this for someone held a level of intimacy that for now she only shared with harry. she told him the story about her grandparents and he listened to her, giving her his undivided attention. at the end, he just told her “i wish i could taste the one your nonna used to make.”

so, preparing this for james, already set the mood for tonight, how serious it was for her. she went out with him a couple times, just simple lunch dates — both cut short because he was called back to the hospital — but he was nice, albeit a bit boring at times, and she was kinda growing tired of not being intimate, so she thought he could be “the one”.

after putting the lasagna in the oven, she set up the table and went to take a shower, that kind of showers that consist on three different hair masks, face and body creams, serums and all that. after that, she went to check in on dinner, but it still wasn’t ready, so she went back to do her makeup and dress up. she put on a simple dress, her favourite one: it was of a dark red colour, with a bit of lace on the back, long enough to keep her comfortable but still not too long.

she snapped a picture for harry, just a simple mirror selfie with her hand up in a peace sign and sent it to him. it took him no more that 4 seconds to text her back.

“you look absolutely gorgeous. he’s going to love you. x”

she smiled, put her phone away and finally went to take the lasagna out of the oven, proceeded to put it on the counter to let it cool a little.

james should have been on his way now, so she decided to tidy up the last things. then, she heard the doorbell.

game time.

she was giddy, scared and over all a bit overwhelmed. this night meant so much to her, she just wanted it to be good.

she walked to the door and greeted him with a big smile.

“hello, you.” he said, smiling as well.

“hi!”

“this is for you.” he gave her a bottle of wine, one she liked a lot as well.

“oh my, that’s so nice of you, thank you. please, come in, make yourself at home.” she said, walking further into her flat, going to the kitchen to fetch a couple of glasses for the wine.

“this is a nice place, thank you for having me over.” he said from the living room, while taking a seat on her couch.

“oh thank you! and of course, it’s my pleasure.”

she walked back into the living area with two glasses, and set on the couch with james.

he was talking about some case he had at work, and she was half listening, half pretending to.

she could do this, couldn’t she? this was going well, they were drinking wine on her couch, making a bit of small talk, dinner was waiting for them in the kitchen... all was going to be fine.

her thoughts were interrupted when james took the glass from her hands and put it on the tiny table in front of her sofa.

what was he doing?

“you look beautiful tonight.”

oh, that was what he was doing.

“oh, uhm, thank you.” she smiled shyly. “you look handsome as well.”

“well, thank you.”

he inched closer, putting a hand on her thigh, the other stroking her cheek. she felt her breath hitch, how long has it been since she had been kissed? probably years. god.

his face came closer and closer, and when he closed his eyes, she did the same, preparing herself for what was going to happen next.

and when his lips touched hers, she felt... okay. nothing weird. no fireworks, no butterflies. it was a normal kiss.

she can’t say she wasn’t a bit disappointed. wasn’t this moment meant to have her feel like she was walking on air? head and body all floaty and tingly, stomach filled with butterflies? she always thought it was going to feel like this. she daydreamed every time she read about it in her books, how even the tiniest touch could bring up the biggest spark between two lovers.

but this wasn’t it.

this was okay, really, it was a good kiss. he was touching her not too roughly, and it wasn’t making her uncomfortable. it was just not what she thought it was going to be like.

“maybe those were all just fantasies, maybe the real thing is supposed to feel like this.” she thought. so she decided to suck it up, and just let herself enjoy this moment.

she had one of her hands on his chest, the other around his neck, playing with his hair.

and when she heard a small moan from him, she thought she was doing a good job. he was enjoying it!

but soon, it got her to overthink about how she didn’t make any noises: was she supposed to? was he expecting them? was she weird for not making any?

her interior freak out was cut short by a phone ringing.

“shit.” james said, disconnecting their lips.

oh no, not again. it’s the third time this has happened; although, the other times it happened she didn’t really care all that much, because their lunch was almost over, so it wasn’t really cut all that short.

he checked his phone and sighed.

“i’m sorry, i have to take this.”

“yeah, yeah, of course.”

he gave her a tight-lipped smile, apologised again, and got up to answer the call.

she sighed and slouched on the couch. maybe it was a friend just wanting to say hi? maybe they could still have dinner and a nice night.

“i’m sorry, i really am, but i have to go back to the hospital, they need me.”

of course not.

“oh.” she stood up, straightening her dress and looking down. she was disappointed of course, but it wasn’t his fault, wasn’t it? the hospital needed him so he had to go.

“i’m sorry, maybe i can get off early and-“

“oh no, don’t worry! do what you have to do, don’t worry about me.”

“we’ll do this another time, yeah?”

“yeah, of course. let me walk you to the door.”

after bidding goodbye, she closed the door.

“yeah, this night blows.”

—

she decided to put some more comfortable clothes on, and also took her makeup off, so she could enjoy her — now, solo — dinner.

there was going to be so much leftovers, she thought. so, why not ask someone if they wanted some?

—

harry was at home, fresh out of the shower, thinking about what to do for dinner. having cereal and milk again didn’t sound too appealing.

when he heard a ding from his phone, he thought it was from the guys, asking him to go out.

but when he heard a second and then a third ding, he actually went to check who the texts were from.

and when he saw his best friend’s name pop up, his heart skipped a beat. she said she would’ve texted him only if something bad was happening, so what happened?

“hey, date finished early. pretty bummed tbh.”

“did you already have dinner?”

“because i have leftovers. want to keep me company?”

as if he could ever say no, both to her and to her home cooked meals.

“yeah of course! i’m on my way. x”

he put on the first sweatshirt he found, and he was out the door.

—

when the doorbell rang, she just answered with a loud “it’s open”.

harry let himself in, took off his shoes and looked around to see where she was. when he saw her in the kitchen, his heart acted all weird.

he couldn’t understand if it was from seeing her in sweats and his old fleetwood mac shirt, feeling warm at the sight of her wearing his clothes, or if it was by seeing that she wasn’t in the dress she was wearing in the picture he received before, meaning that her date didn’t go as planned, which made him a bit sad. he doesn’t know much about this james, but from what she’d told him he seemed like a nice guy. so why didn’t the date go through?

“hi, angel.”

“hey.” she answered, with a somber tone.

“is everything okay?”

“are you ready to eat? i made lasagna.”

that struck harry. she made her date one of her (and his) favourite home cooked meals, he knew how much it meant to her.

“yeah, of course. but you still have to answer my question.”

“can we eat first? then we can talk about how miserable my love life is.”

he chucked a bit. “of course, let me help you with the plates.”

they ate almost in silence, the only sounds you could hear were harry’s praises about her cooking.

“angel, you should be a chef.”

“if i pay you, can you cook me meals for dinner everyday? i’m tired of having milk and cereal five days a week.”

“harry, you can’t have milk and cereal for dinner everyday!”

“i know! that’s why i’m asking you this!”

after they finished eating, she took the plates to the sink, and he followed her.

she started washing their plates, when harry cleared his throat.

“what?”

“what are you not telling me?”

she sighed. “the date was cut short. james was called by the hospital, and he had to leave, exactly like the two times before tonight.”

“oh.” he didn’t know what to say.

“yeah.”

“i’m sorry.”

“it’s okay, it wasn’t meant to be, i guess.”

“you really liked him, huh?” he said, and why was it so hard for him to get these words out of his mouth?

“i mean, i wasn’t in love with the guy, he was okay. i don’t know, we kissed for a bit, i didn’t feel anything, and now that i think about it i probably wouldn’t even have gone all the way.” she said all in one breath.

harry listened closely to what she said, and he had one single thought.

“can i just ask you something?”

“yeah, sure, go for it.”

“why haven’t you ever asked me?”

she dropped the plate she was drying in the sink. did she heard right?

“uh- uhm, what?”

“why haven’t you asked me to help you out with.. that?”

she couldn’t bear how weird the situation was. so, naturally, she laughed it off.

“you’re so funny H, always said you should be a comedian.” she dried off her hands and made her way to the living room.

Harry followed her, gently grabbing her wrist to stop her from running away, putting his chest to her back.

“i’m not kidding. i’m genuinely asking you why, in over 10 years of being best friends, you’ve never asked me.” his hands started travelling from her wrist to her waist.

“isn’t it obvious? you’ve just said it: we’re best friends. doing that would make everything weird and complicated, and i don’t want that.”

“are you sure that that’s it?”

“yeah, of course it is.”

“angel, i can’t even see your face right now and i know you’re lying: you’re a shit liar, you know that. and i’d like to think that i know my best friend a little too well to not know when they’re lying.”

she huffed, she hated that she couldn’t lie to him, ever. but she hated more that she had to come clean now, so she tried convincing him one last time that there was nothing more.

“i’m not lying. that’s the only reason.”

he sighed, and turned her around.

“now look me in the eyes, and say that.”

the fucker. he knew for a fact that she wasn’t able to lie, especially if she looked in the eyes of the person she was trying to lie to.

“alright, fuck, you win. it’s not the only reason.”

“and do you mind telling me what is it?”

she took a deep breath, she really doesn’t want to, because she knows for a fact it’s going to make her sound like an idiot.

“it’s just.. i know that you don’t like me that way, and that you never did, back in high school or college. i’m not your type and that’s fine! i don’t blame you for it, everyone can have a preference.”

he was stunned. she took his silence as a way to tell her to go on.

“and so, i’ve never asked you any “help” because of that. i didn’t want to put you in an uncomfortable position, of having to tell me the ‘no’ i already knew was coming, and ruining our friendship. never in a million years i would want that, so i never did.”

she released a breath, and looked up at him.

he was looking at her with wide eyes, that held a certain softness.

“and now i’ve made it weird all the same, fucking hell, i told you i wasn’t supposed to-“

“no angel, no, it’s okay. i just.. i don’t understand. have i made you feel ugly? is that it?”

“no H, no, it’s just that i saw the girls you went out with and we aren’t the same. they were gorgeous, like drop dead gorgeous, and so sweet and just incredible. some were even wayyyy out of your league, but you charmed them all the same.” she laughed, and it made him laugh as well.

“heyyy, that’s rude.” he whined, making her roll her eyes.

“but i am sorry, if i ever made you feel this way. i‘ve never wanted to. i think you’re beautiful, breathtakingly so.”

“oh stop it, that’s not true.” she tried to leave his grasp, but it only tightened on her waist.

“no, i’m serious. i think you are probably the most beautiful person i know, and not just on the outside. you’re a beautiful person all over, you look great and your soul is beautiful. you’re sweet and caring and just amazing, and i can’t believe you think i didn’t think this about you.”

she looked up at him and couldn’t believe how sweet he was being. was he saying all this out of pity?

“i can see the wheels turning in your head, what are you thinking about?”

“i was just thinking that maybe you’re being so sweet out of pity. because my night didn’t go the way it was supposed to.”

he scoffed. “you’re just so dense sometimes. i’m telling you this because i really do think those things. why can’t you just accept that?”

“uhm, okay then.. thank you H, for saying all of this.”

“you’re welcome, angel. now... would you want to?”

“what?”

“would you want me to kiss you?”

what the actual hell was happening. was he actually asking her this? her best friend of ten years was asking her if he could kiss her. harry. her harry. her best friend harry. no way.

“we don’t have to, angel. just... if you want, i could kiss you and we can see if it feels good for you, and if you feel comfortable with that. i just want to make you feel good, and i hope you know you’re safe with me. i don’t expect anything to happen, nothing more than a kiss, if you even want that.”

“uhm. i-“ she was afraid of what was going to happen to them, but she so wanted to be selfish. just this one time. one kiss, that’s it.

“i think i’d like that. i feel safe with you.”

“yeah? you do?” he looked down at her, and a sheepish smile spread across his face.

“yeah, i really do. but do you?”

he could swear his heart was about to jump out of his chest. how cute was she? he was the one who proposed the whole ordeal, but she still wanted to make sure he felt comfortable.

“of course angel, it’s you. i always feel safe with you.”

they couldn’t lie to themselves, they both thought about this moment from time to time. 

the first time harry wanted to kiss her was at their junior prom, when he saw her in that long, beautiful dress, but didn’t because she had a date — and so did he —, especially when he saw she was having so much fun with aaron (her date), dancing around the school gym and laughing, and he thought he wanted to be the one who made her laugh like this forever. but he was late, and aaron already filled that position. so he made his peace with it, and spent prom night with his date, a lovely girl of course, but she wasn’t her.

and the first time she really, really wanted to kiss him was during a football game. it was their first year of college, and she was busy with finals, but harry begged her to come because he was the quarterback and promised her his team would win if she was there. so, when his team scored the winning touchdown, before even celebrating with his teammates, he looked for her in the bleachers and when he found her he had the biggest smile on his face, running towards her shouting “it’s because of you! it’s you!”. she never wanted to kiss someone that badly ever in her life. thankfully, when she came down from the high of his victory, she just hugged him tight, while he picked her up and spun her around. no kiss.

but now, how could she turn him down? how can she not kiss those lips? they seems so soft, like soft pink pillows.

harry couldn’t wait for it anymore. ever since he was a teen, he asked himself what it’d feel like kissing her, tasting her lips. he got close to do that too many drunken nights, but never did because either both of them were intoxicated or because he didn’t want to make her uncomfortable.

but now? they were both trembling with anticipation. so, he put his hands on her face, and slightly turned it upwards, looking deep into her eyes.

“are you sure?”

“yes, i am.”

“positive?”

“yes.”

“swear on your mum?”

“would you kiss me already?”

he didn’t have to be asked twice. he leaned in and softly touched her lips. the kiss started slow, like they wanted to test the water first, make sure nothing felt wrong.

‘wrong’ was the last word she would use to describe this kiss.

this is what a kiss should feel like: all the butterflies she didn’t feel before with james, here they were, batting their wings away in her stomach, making her feel like she could fly away.

harry’s hands travelled down her waist, one towards her bottom, and he broke the kiss for just a second.

“is this okay?” he asked.

she nodded, but clearly that wasn’t enough for harry.

“angel, i need words. is me touching you okay?”

“yes, harry, please.”

hearing her begging him made him groan in pleasure. he wanted to stay in this moment till the end of time.

he left his hands wandering on her waist, and a little lower, and brought his lips to hers once again, this time more purposefully. he licked her bottom lip, silently asking her to open up for him, and she happily obliged. her hands travelled up his shoulder, playing with the hair on the nape of his neck, tugging lightly on the curls, making harry moan a bit.

and fuck, was it hot to hear.

she kept playing with his hair when harry pulled his lips from hers, a small whimper leaving her mouth.

she fucking whimpered. he was going to heaven, that was the only explanation.

he brought his lips on her neck, leaving a trail of wet kisses and sucking here and there, making her unconsciously moan softly at his actions.

“does this feel nice, angel?”

“yeah.” she said in a breathy voice.

he could not get enough of her.

his lips reluctantly left her neck and he decided to sit on the couch, looking up at her.

he didn’t even have to say anything, because she gladly climbed on top of him, straddling him, and connecting their lips once again.

she wasn’t sure if a kiss ever felt like this. she didn’t know if it was because of how safe she felt with harry, or if he was just really good at kissing, but never in her life has she been kissed like this. it felt too good to be true.

his hands travelled to her hips, holding and squeezing her love handles, which made her a little uncomfortable, and she didn’t know if she made a sound or if harry could just read her mind, but he stopped kissing her.

“is everything okay?”

“yeah, yeah, everything’s good.” she went in to kiss him again, but he turned his head.

“you have to be honest with me. is it the position? does it weird you out?”

“no, no H, the position is great, it’s just... your hands squeezed my hips, and i don’t feel very comfortable with that, because i don’t like how squishy they are. it makes me a bit self conscious. i’m sorry.”

“hey, no need to apologise. if anything, i’m sorry. but angel, just know that there’s nothing wrong with them, i fucking love them. but i won’t squeeze them anymore now, alright? i want you to feel good and safe.”

“yes, thank you.”

he started kissing her again, softly at first but it soon became more heated, tongues touching and hands roaming over each other’s bodies; soft moans and the wet sounds of their lips connecting were all one could hear.

unconsciously, she started grinding her hips on him, making a deeper moan leave his mouth.

“angel, fuck.”

“i’m sorry, did i do something?”

“no no, fuck, it felt great. but are you sure?”

she didn’t answer him this time, she just kept kissing him and grinding on him, feeling him buck his hips to match her movements. she hoped this was enough of an answer for him.

“dear god, why didn’t we do this before?”

she let out a breathy laugh. “i was thinking the same thing.”

“what are you doing to me, angel?” she felt his hand on her hair, brushing them out of her face. she felt the coldness of his rings on her cheek, it all felt so real. almost, too real.

“mmh...“

“angel.” her pet name sounded a bit more distant, and she felt a stronger hand on her shoulder.

“angel.” the voice was getting closer, she thought. but how could it be closer if she was kissing the source of that voice right now?

“angel, wake up.” wake up?

she opened her eyes and the soft light from the tv burned her sleepy eyes. through her blurry vision, she could make out a figure, a curly headed man with green eyes was looking at her, smiling softly.

“hey angel, welcome back to planet earth.” he chuckled. “i woke you up because one of your favourite episodes of friends is coming up.”

“uh, what?” she was still a bit confused from her sleeping state. when did she fall asleep?

“yeah, season 6, episode 15? “the one that could have been”, i think that’s what it’s called, it’s one of your favourites. i would’ve let you sleep but i know you like it.”

oh.

oh.

“thank you, H. it’s one of my favourites, indeed.”

“no problem, angel. so, did you have a nice dream?”

boy, did she.

“yeah, it was good, i think, i can’t remember it right now.”

“mmh, i’ll try to believe that.” he looked at her as if he knew what she was just dreaming about. oh my god, she didn’t say anything out loud, did she? the embarrassment.

“so, where’s this james guy taking you?”

oh fuck.

–

so here it is!! i hope you all enjoyed it <3 love yaaaaaa

[ms-demeanor]

I believe in a lot of things but because I’m not gung-ho about murder and the destruction of the system, you’ll always say I don’t believe strongly enough. I know there’s nothing I can do to get you to respect me, I just want an answer to the question: where are these new, lefty voters going to come from, and why is “preventing total collapse into fascism” not a good enough reason for them to vote? To do this really minor thing? Why do you all default to guillotines?

And, like, as far as I can tell, your position is that I should die, everyone I love should die, all the fucking poor and queer and black people who live in this red state hellhole should die, so that you can build the beautiful anarchist future in our ashes and maybe call us “martyrs.” It’s cold fucking comfort. We have no chance of winning a fight and you want to force us into a fight because you “believe in something” and are therefore morally right, I guess.

"As far as I can tell, your position is that I should die, everyone I love should die, all the fucking poor and queer and black people who live in this red state hellhole should die, so that you can build the beautiful anarchist future in our ashes and maybe call us “martyrs.”

If that's what you can tell about my political positions then I don't have to respond to anything you're saying because I am *very* vocal about my positions and they are mostly "form parallel structures" and "join unions." (I will respond anyway because I'm a contentious fuck)

@politicalmissdemeanor and @how-to-do-activism are were I store my politics reblogs. You can go check them out. On both of those you will find several reblogs of the essay "against the logic of the guillotine," which I reblog frequently because my OTHER big political stance is prison abolition and prison abolition doesn't exactly sit comfortably alongside the idea of *any* executions; suggesting that I - or most anarchists - default to guillotines suggests that you're not familiar with many anarchists. It is, of course, not your responsibility to be familiar with many anarchists, but if you're going to accuse me of wanting you dead and a utopia built on your ashes then it IS your responsibility to be familiar with *me.*

Also I think that everyone should be clear, when I talk about "fully automated luxury gay space communism" that is a tongue-in-cheek way of discussing a post-scarcity world. I don't think we're actually going to *get* fully automated luxury gay space communism, but I also think that scarcity in the modern era is largely constructed and political, and that is something that should be addressed.

I mention that because utopianism is controversial among anarchists and if you see me talking about "in the future anarchist utopia" you should read that in the same tone that I am using in discussions about "fully automated luxury gay space communism." I don't think we're going to *get* a future anarchist utopia (and I actually think the idea of utopias specifically is harmful) however I do believe a better world is possible and that people should work toward that.

But what it sounds like is you've looked through my blog for the past week only and see me talking about the democratic party attempting to retain white, educated suburban voters instead of reaching out voters on the left or attempting to retain them and have extrapolated my entire political philosophy from a single paragraph and a link to an AP story.

So, point by point:

I believe in a lot of things but because I’m not gung-ho about murder and the destruction of the system, you’ll always say I don’t believe strongly enough.

Then you should probably base your arguments on why you support the system and think it works instead of building an argument out of "well it's better than what republicans want." I clearly exist within this system and I have posts about how it could be improved (postal banking, automatic voter registration, ranked preference voting, universal ID) even though I don't particularly want to perpetuate it.

You don't act like you actually believe what you're saying, you act like you're clinging to it out of desperation. You are not positively arguing for your system, you are holding it up as a shield against something worse. I'd recommend taking some time to sit down and think about what you consider the merits of this system are. "Checks and balances" are one of the things that people seem to like about the American political system; I will agree that it's good that presidents are not kings and can't just will law into existence (it's part of why I'm so critical about the use of executive orders!), and that a legislative system doesn't have to be terrible. However my criticism, as an anarchist, is that these checks and balances don't actually seem to be checking or balancing anything and that presidents *as a concept* are bad and there are probably ways to make this system more democratic while still protecting people from the tyranny of the majority so perhaps if you want to keep the system going you should investigate what ability you have, as a supporter of the system, to change those things. (the thing is, you don't actually have the ability to change those things and it's part of why I don't think the system works).

I know there’s nothing I can do to get you to respect me,

Friend. Buddy. Pal. I think that all humans are inherently worthy of respect. What I am never going to *agree with* is your political system.

I just want an answer to the question: where are these new, lefty voters going to come from, and why is “preventing total collapse into fascism” not a good enough reason for them to vote? To do this really minor thing?

I'm not sure if you're aware of this but, as time passes children stop being children and eventually gain rights as individuals, including the right to vote.

And actually, I am arguing that leftists and young voters already ARE voting for you, but they're doing so because - as you have stated - the other choice is fascism.

But "vote to prevent fascism" is not a party platform and it is a concession to let the fascists control the conversation. It enables the ratchet effect. Republicans get into power and drag politics further right and then Democrats run against them on the bare promise to "hold the line." Progressive candidates within the party rarely get support from the party because of the need to keep the centrist voters, to "heal the soul of America," and when progressive democrats DO get elected they are often blamed for falling approval ratings or low voter turnout or people switching parties.

I have been explicit about the fact that I voted for democrats; that was the harm reductionist stance in 2020, right? "Hold your nose, vote like hell, then hold their feet to the fire." You see why this doesn't actually work, right? Because I can't hold their feet to the fire. Because all I can say is "support policies I believe in or you'll lose my vote" but they don't have to worry about losing my vote because my alternative is to vote for the lesser evil or "not voting is a vote for republicans." So either I was going to vote for them anyway or I wasn't going to vote at all, so they don't have to give a shit about my vote, which is why many anarchists see voting at all as harmful.

You are saying "not-fascism is good enough, I have to accept what I'm given and be grateful that it isn't worse" and honestly take a look at what you're saying. That's slop. That's dreck. They are feeding you garbage and that should be more radicalizing than it has been. You deserve better than that. EVERYONE deserves better than that.

Anyway yeah the new voters are going to be young people. Young people have historically participated in elections at a lower rate than the rest of the population and your job as a supporter of electoralism is to convince them that voting for democrats will do more than not voting. That's kind of a hard sell when the democratic party pitch since at least 2017 has been "stop the fascist creep in America" but fascism has kept right on creeping (which I don't think is the democrats' fault, per se, just that they don't actually have the power to do anything to stop it so it's a bad pledge to campaign on).

Well, and also this:

"stop fascism by voting for dems" is also a hard sell when you can't raise the minimum wage but you can increase funding for police.

Here's the thing: you've got your votes. Leftists hold their noses and young people are voting in historically high numbers, and are generally voting for democrats. There you go. You've got the votes. People ARE doing this tiny thing. And democrats are still yelling at leftists and young people to vote harder while courting center votes.

Who are you mad at? Who do *you* think is not voting? How much do you think it's worthwhile to compromise your political goals to get their votes? Clearly the democratic party thinks that centrist suburban white people aren't voting for them and they're willing to compromise enough that "better than the other guy" is a platform.

Why do you all default to guillotines?

I've been over this but I don't think that support for execution is a coherent anti-state position. Again, here is Against the Logic of the Guillotine.

And, like, as far as I can tell, your position is that I should die, everyone I love should die, all the fucking poor and queer and black people who live in this red state hellhole should die, so that you can build the beautiful anarchist future in our ashes and maybe call us “martyrs.”

Did you *look* at any of my political positions? Or did you make up an anarchist to get mad at?

I've gotten yelled at kind of a lot for "well obviously your politics state that my people don't have value and should die" from people who seem to have never interacted with me or my politics. Do you think that all anarchists are anti-civ? Do you think that doctors and factories won't exist in an anarchist system? Have you ever looked at ANY mutual aid projects? Are you not aware of black anarchism? You know what I'm just going to post a quote from that link on anti-civ views because that seems to be the center of a lot of the belief that anarchists want all queer and disabled and marginalized people dead:

Civilisation comes with many, many problems but it is better than the alternative. The challenge for anarchists is in transforming civilisation to a form that is without hierarchy, or imbalances of power or wealth [...] To do this we need modern technology to clean our water, pump away and process our waste and inoculate or cure people of the diseases of high population density. With only 10 million people on the earth you can shit in the woods providing you keep moving on. With 6 billion those who shit in the woods are shitting in the water they and those around them will have to drink.

Of all your off-the wall statements in these asks this is the one that makes it the most clear that you don't know who I am or what my political positions are and are just yelling at a stranger.

anyway, back to your asks:

it’s cold fucking comfort. We have no chance of winning a fight and you want to force us into a fight because you “believe in something” and are therefore morally right, I guess.

I think there's a broad misapprehension that all anarchists are militant insurrectionist anarchists. I think that this is because most anarchists are operating from the belief that the existing system cannot be reformed, which people often interpret to mean "it must therefore be torn down in a brief and violent revolution and replaced only with the system that I say will work best."

I don't believe in reforming the system (though if you've got it and you want to yell about improving people's lives you might as well make it better but that is not what I'm putting my energy toward because even a united states with universal healthcare, postal banking, and constitutionally protected abortion is still a hierarchical power structure that will serve capital and its interests) but I'm also not a fan of violent revolutions (I am not 100% critical of them either; sometimes revolution is self preservation - the world is complicated and it's hard to model history and regional differences on different places in different times).

What I am a fan of is creating local networks of people to do things in their community for themselves, without anyone's permission or approval. I'm a fan of meal shares, I'm a fan of mutual aid, I'm a fan of libraries and free stores and community gardens set up in empty lots that nobody gave you permission to use.

If you want an example of this with something where a real-world need was not being met by a government and individuals took initiative to address it, look at the FIRST Collective in Columbus. Shelters were not providing adequate housing so a group of people have worked together to create a safe, sheltered environment for people who were not being served by the system. Is the solution ideal (where ideal is 'permanent safe housing with no limitations on residents')? No. Is the solution better than what was being provided by the state (limited-stay shelters with restrictions on possessions, pets, couples staying together, and whether residents would be locked in at night)? For the people in that camp, yes. It was a better solution. Does it replace the shelter system? No. Does it suggest an alternative to what is provided by the state, and by its mere existence illustrate that what the state provides is not enough? Yes.

Is this sort of thing possible on a large scale? And possible to improve on a large scale? Yes. Is it possible to do that *tomorrow*? No. Is it possible to *start* tomorrow so that you have a better place to work from in a week or a month or a year? Yes.

I am tired. I am tired, you are tired, we are all tired. My back hurts and I don't get enough sleep and if shipments of certain medications were stopped for three months my spouse would die. Quickly and inescapably. I don't know who you think I am, but I am not somebody who is shouting about guillotines and advocating for the immediate overthrow of society in all its forms.

I think the world is broken and needs to be fixed. Do I think that burning down everything wrong with the world and picking through the cinders to build something better is a good idea? No. I think it is possible to seek revolution without wholesale destruction, and I don't think that you need to tear the world down to ashes in order to rebuild.

I'm not trying to raise a gallows, I'm trying to grow a garden. If you are looking at one of those things and seeing the other, that is a failure of your understanding, not of my philosophy.

Also if anybody wants to donate to the FIRST Collective this is their GoFundMe.