#making me a non deserving for whatever I choose to do

[eleminim]

----

[novelconcepts]

The degree of RAGE I feel every time I listen to an interview with and/or about a nonbinary person/character, and the interviewer just is allergic to they/them pronouns. Like. My dude. My good bitch. My brother in Christ. The whole POINT of this conversation is the enby thing. How are you failing THIS badly?!

[trashfangirlsworld]

Hello! I've been inactive due to the current events in the mcyt community, but I've been keeping up with the qsmp admin situation and I thought I'd share some opinions because the amount of doomposting I've seen the last few weeks has been more than I've seen in any fandom in a while and I feel like it's reached the point where people really need to chill the fuck out because they're not thinking straight and actively not helping. Everything I'm gonna say is based on stuff I've seen on both tumblr and twitter.

they should not promote/release merch! : one of the things that baffles me the most tbh; how do you expect any employee to be payed then? Merch is so far the only big source of income for the server besides q's own cc salary or whatever income they get through the official qsmp channel on twitch and youtube (which I don't think is a lot). "I get that they said they have no funds, but still it doesn't feel right"... sorry but at this point I don't know what to tell you, do you expect them to pull money out of their asses? You can't demand that they stop making merch and then complain that they can't afford the twitter admins at the same time. If you don't feel comfortable buying anything from them it's fine obviously, but if your reason for it is that you're helping the admins then I have bad news for you. I have seen people propose that quackity sets up a patreon, and while I think it would be a good idea, I understand why he's not doing it, since with the merch he can at least give something back to the people that choose to support his project instead of people just giving him money for free, especially with what's happening now. Also with how much hate he's been receiving simply for the merch I can't imagine that a patreon would be recieved well.

we don't know if the money is going to the admins/ they should not use pomme's likeness! : the money is definitely going to go to the employees and admins because otherwise the server would not last. And as much as I understand people feeling protective over pomme's admin, quackity studios is very much allowed to sell merch of the character because it is not the likeness of the admin, it's a minecraft model made by the people that work there. Would you have rathered they skip her character entirely? Do you really think that would have been okay?. Also correct me if I'm wrong, but I've seen posts and tweets saying that pomme's admin has been confirmed to come back with the other eggs whenever it happens by pierre, who talked with her admin.

the admins of the update accounts got fired, it means they want to fire everyone, they aren't making things better! : it sucks that the updates accounts had to end and I feel bad for every twitter admin that clearly cared a lot about the project, but unfortunately it had to happen if there simply isn't enough money to pay them adequately like they deserved and ultimately the update accounts were not essential to keep the project going, so it makes sense that they were let go unfortunately. This is not gonna be the case for the egg admins because if they got fired (which they didn't), the server would basically end. Just because a cc does not know when they will be back does not mean it's not gonna happen. Just because tubbo randomly said that he's not sure if they will be back does not mean they were fired; tubbo is normally not a reliable source of information, even less so when he's been live nonstop for the past 20 days, which is prior to everything happening. If you genuinely didn't expect a reduction in non essential staff considering everything, then you have unreasonable expectations on how this stuff goes. As I write this, I'm seeing people saying that "they would understand this decision if q had set up a patreon to pay the admins", and once again I don't understand how people don't realize why quackity might not be keen on the idea of having his fans pay his own employees for his own project instead of, you know, doing it himself; and, again, do not fool yourself into thinking it would be recieved well. That being said, it's fair to criticize how everything was communicated to the admins, but I'll get to this in more detail later.

quackity should not have uninstalled social media, he's trying to avoid everything! : he's not avoiding anything, he's been off social media for a while now, which is why it took him that long to remove wilbur from the server. He has every right to not want to look at social media, as his focus should be on restructuring his server instead of doomscrolling on twitter because people think he needs to see how much people dislike him. The only people that he should talk to are those that have important information to tell him, like josè with the document. He explicitly said on stream where to contact him if you have helpful information and I'm sure that despite multiple well liked posts saying not to spam his email, people are definitely doing it anyway, which is probably gonna slow the whole thing down even more. I hope josè's document is able to be seen with pierre's help as well.

quackity studios is not communicating with their employees and leaving them in the dark and that's not okay : I agree with this. i think a huge chunk of doomposting lately has been due the lack of communication not with the audience, but with the admins, and they deserve to know what is happening behind the scenes more then us since this is about their current or future job.... that being said, I do kind of understand why they're being so secretive and shutting everyone out, and that's due to all the "leaks" that have been spread online. I understand the anger but I really wish some people would realize that discussing leaked bts lore stuff in ccs discord servers does not help the situation at all and instead makes it seem like they're only doing this to rile up the fandom against quackity studios by using the lore of people's fav characters.

At the end of the day, I think people just aren't used to dealing with a situation that does not have a clear cut solution and someone to clearly hate, so the result is this doomposting and the over aggressiveness toward anything related to the project. Personally, I haven't witnessed anything that made me lose faith in the qsmp like some people have been saying, as every change that we've seen so far coincides with what quackity said on stream a while ago. I only wish things were communicated properly to the admins clearly, as they're the ones most affected, so I hope that's resolved soon. Ultimately quackity is singlehandedly restructuring the server from basically zero, has had to fire people that were misusing money and power and, depending on what josè's document said, is probably gonna have to fire some more. This is not an easy process, nor a quick one, you're not gonna hear about sunshine and rainbows for a while and doomposting about everything you hear because you expected quick change is useless. Think before you speak, have a clear head and most importantly have empathy.

[melonsodypop]

H-hi! I hope It's ok if my first request is not a smutty one? Yakuza men and what makes them feel loved? Thank you in advance!

yakuza men and the things that make them feel loved !

❀ pairing -  kazuma kiryu, goro majima, taiga saejima, shun akiyama, y0!akira nishikiyama, daigo dojima, ryuji goda/reader (all seperate)

❀ tags - fluff, angst, gender neutral reader, probably sloppy character analysis, these men all really need therapy, love languages, alcohol/smoking mentions

❀ a/n - of course non-smut requests are welcome!! stares at my college degree on the wall that focused almost entirely on how people's experiences, relationships and environments affect them and their inner wounds/ways they want to be loved... i am so ready to break these down hehehehe (also i learned how to use gradient text are u guys proud of me)

kazuma kiryu ❀ spending time with him

deceptively simple, kiryu feels the most loved when you decide to just exist near him

oftentimes he feels like he's undeserving of company or that his mere presence is a danger to his loved ones, so frankly your insistence on being close to him is going to freak him out at first

he might even start avoiding you in the early stages of a relationship - don't take it personally, it's just that he loves you so much that he's anxious about hurting you

the more and more you stick by him, the more he realizes that he doesn't have to do everything on his own

in fact, he likes not doing everything on his own, a wave of relief every time he remembers that he has someone he trusts and admires deeply at his side

it slowly heals that deep emotional wound he carries that for someone to love him means for them to be hurt

the reason i hesitate to use the word 'quality time' with him is that he doesn't even really need you to be doing something with him

just being in the same room as him, focusing on whatever you both are working on separately

he's never been one to be comfortable expressing himself in words, the silence between the two of you like a warm blanket instead of awkward

i could get into my hc that he's autistic so it's a form of parallel play to him, but i digress

if you look over at him, you'll see that there's a rare soft smile on his lips

wordlessly will walk over to you and pull you flush to his side gently, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead

"i like when you're here," he'll grumble softly to you - which in kiryu-isms, really means 'please stay by my side like this forever'

goro majima ❀ letting him vent/talk about his feelings

oh boy i have so many thoughts about majima and how hard of a time he has accepting love

he's a master at self-sabotage - he doesn't know how to process feelings of love or affection, nor does he really feel that a piece of shit like him deserves it (see: how often he tells others that they'd be better off without him)

so he often chooses to bury his feelings instead of doing something about it

it was much the same when it came to you - he loves you so much, painfully so, but there was always that annoying voice in his head that told him that that you had better things to do than spend time on a mongrel like him

he'll keep his conversations surface-level with you at first, but ask him how he feels about everything and validate what he says

it'll catch him off-guard at first, and he might even try to put up a front and say he doesn't like talking about that sappy shit

but he'll eventually start giving in, going on long rants about all the crap he had to deal with that day or his 'tragic fuckin' backstory' while you listen intently

the more you wrench his ribcage open and force him to expose his real heart to you, the more he starts falling helplessly for you

not only are you letting him acknowledge and let out the emotions he keeps bottled up close to his chest, but you're seeing every ugly, rotten part of him and you still love him

now, that doesn't mean don't hold him accountable when he's kinda being a dick

praising everything he does will just make him feel like you're putting him on a pedestal or seeing some idealized version of himself you made up in your head

which will give his brain an excuse to run out on you before he eventually disappoints you

so don't let him run - from his feelings, from accountability, from you

the mad dog doesn't like to be collared, but for the person who looks past every facade he puts up and lets him just be goro majima - he'll happily put himself on a leash if it's you who's holding it

taiga saejima ❀ giving him physical affection

for most of his life, saejima was treated like a dangerous beast due to his size and that perpetual scowl on his face

it only got worse after the ueno seiwa hit - shackled like a circus tiger as he was dragged from jail to jail, never able to escape whispers of 'the man who slayed eighteen' and 'the stone-cold hitman' that make him sound more like an urban legend monster than a man

saejima has his own pride in his strength, and for the longest time he just accepted that he was the untouchable, scary beast that everyone made him out to be

it's not until you come into his life and start to subjecting him to little casual touches of affection that he realizes how touch-starved he is

grab his hand, cuddle him, catch him off-guard with kisses to his weary face - it makes his chest tighten in a way he doesn't understand just yet

he feels silly that such small, soft things are affecting him this much at first, but every casual little touch you give him makes him feel less like the boogeyman and more like a person

the fact that you trust him enough and feel safe enough to him to attach yourself to him... he feels like he could cry

it takes a while for him to start returning your touches, but when he does he suddenly turns into the biggest teddy bear

every time he holds your cute little face or holds you protectively against his chest at night, he's taught that his hands can do more than just inflicting pain

he'll never, ever admit it out loud but he loves it the most when you hug him, your arms barely able to wrap around his thick torso but trying your best regardless

he can't help but chuckle as he feels your body meld against his, patting your head and wrapping his arm protectively around your shoulders

he knows people would gawk if they saw how cuddly he gets with you, but he can't really bring himself to care

he's not a monster, a beast, stone-cold, or a killer when he's in your arms - just a big, soft tiger

shun akiyama ❀ taking care of his physical needs

akiyama SUCKS at taking care of himself, often relying on other people (i.e. hana-chan's scoldings) to remind him to eat or get his work done

it's not like he's completely helpless, he insists - he at least keeps himself clean and well-groomed

but being homeless for as long as he was, he eventually just forgot how to attend to his needs

even now, with all the money in the world, he's still unlearning how he had to just suppress his hunger pangs when food was an uncertainty and sleeping on a regular schedule when shelter wasn't always guaranteed

his body does it unconsciously now, often attending to his paperwork for hours on end without even noticing that he's hungry or tired

he feels embarrassed when you start slipping him bentos here and there when he's so wrapped up in his work, often giving you an apologetic smile and profuse thank you's

but the fact that you cared enough to notice, and cared even more to go out and get him something to eat makes him remember why he fell for you in the first place

he might protest weakly when you pull him away from his work when you notice his eyes are getting sunken and his body's lagging behind

or roll his eyes with a smirk when you snatch a cigarette from between his lips and smush it in the nearby ashtray, reminding him that he was whining about needing to quit smoking just yesterday

but he's truly, genuinely thankful that you're forcing him to take care of himself, the fact that you're invested enough in his wellbeing to scold him

he'll be damned though if he becomes one of those boyfriends that treats you like his mother, though - he may call himself a bum, but he's not THAT much of a bum

expect to be taken care of in equal measure, akiyama insisting to pay for your meals and run your errands for you to show with his actions, not just his words, how cared for you make him feel

akira nishikiyama ❀ praising him

yeahhh i couldn't not talk about nishiki's inferiority complex and how damaged his self-esteem is

his cool-guy bravado very thinly covers up a mountain of insecurities

he doesn't really feel like he does much of anything right, too pathetic to be a scary yakuza and too cowardly to stand up for himself or what he believes in

so anytime you genuinely praise him and tell him he did a good job with something, the high he gets from it is strong enough that he could probably quit nicotine, he thinks

he preens when you compliment how stylish he looks or how well he styled his hair - he takes a LOT of pride in his appearance, probably one of the few things he doesn't really have insecurities about

he can't help but grin ear to ear when you cheer for him at karaoke, or clap and whoop when he gets a strike at the bowling alley

he admires you so, so much, and that verbal affirmation that you think just as highly of him soothes that little boy inside that never thinks he's good enough for anything or anybody

every time you compliment him, he gets so giddy that he'll grab you by the waist and start pressing kisses all over your face

"i did that for you, baby," he'll claim proudly, his eyes shining with affection

the first time he cried in front of you, he was shocked that you didn't call him a crybaby or told him to man up

you just held him gently and wiped away his tears, whispering that he did the best he could and that you were so proud of him

he absolutely crumbles when he hears that, hugging you close and crying even harder :(

it kills him (in a good way) that even when you see him at his most vulnerable, you don't think he's pathetic or weak, just someone who needs the reassurance and comfort he's been deprived of his whole life

i'm not saying you'll fix him, necessarily - but perhaps the entirety of 1 could have been avoided if someone just told him he was doing a good job

daigo dojima ❀ letting him be weak

from the moment daigo was born a dojima, he was expected to be as strong, proud, and cold as the rest of his family

even when he left the tojo clan after the ryuji incident to not have to carry that expectation anymore, he still had a gang of people who started to follow him and put them on a pedestal as their leader

and now, as the sixth chairman, he has even less opportunities to let his guard down, not with thirty thousand people looking to him as an example and his enemies lurking at all times

daigo's resolve is strong, having long since accepted his lot in life as a leader - but he can't deny that he just gets so exhausted sometimes

so when he can come home to you, who doesn't expect him to be the sixth chairman, a dojima, or hell, even a yakuza, just daigo, is when he feels the most loved

sometimes just lays his head on your lap when it's just the two of you on the couch in the living, the feeling of your fingers threading gently through his jet-black hair and just being able to relax making the stress in his muscles melt away almost instantly

his greatest peace is when you both lay down to sleep at night, holding him in your arms and whispering to him about how hard he works and to get all the rest he needs

he hums softly and nuzzles into the crook of your neck, not saying anything back as he revels in the feeling of your fingernails scraping against his scalp as your digits comb through the tresses of his hair

there's no expectations, no danger, nobody expecting him to make a decision on the spot or suppress his personal feelings for the good of many

just his darling lover who sees him for who he is, feelings and weaknesses and all, and still loves him

he knows that there's a long list of things he has to do tomorrow and put on a strong face again, but for now he lets himself cuddle in your grasp, letting your words and gentle touches soothe him to sleep

ryuji goda ❀ when he gets to show off for you

a very... simple method of affection for a very straightforward man

he's just got some somewhat dated ideas about what it means to be a man in a relationship, and a lot of them revolve around flexing how strong and skilled he is to you

nothing makes him more satisfied than seeing your eyes shine with awe when he helps you move an insanely heavy piece of furniture or when he shows you just how much whiskey he can knock back in one go

it's less of the showing off itself that makes him feel loved - he's confident in his strength and his skills so he needs no reassurance in that department

but your cutely surprised reactions and the fact that you're so openly proud to call him your boyfriend that you'd let him strut his stuff out in public to show the world how cool and strong he is... yeah, that's what makes him happy

he gets so determined to show off for you that he sometimes gets in way over his head about things he usually wouldn't give a shit about

for example, when he tried to get you the cute stuffed animal that you wanted from the ufo catcher

ryuji scoffed and told you to step aside, confident that he would get it first try

until he didn't. and didn't on the second, third, fourth, fifth tries-

he let out a string of colorful curses as he watched the claw uselessly pinch at the round little sparrow, his jaw tensed in concentration as he shoved another coin into the machine's slot

ignores your reassurances that he really didn't need to do this for you, retrying until he eventually gets the damn thing to drop in the hole

he feels stupid until he hands the round bun-chan toy to you, your eyes wide and a smile on your lips

as soon as you hug him with a squealed thank you, he laughs, patting your head and telling you that it wasn't a huge deal

ryuji's not one to usually lie, but your praise and admiration is, unsurprisingly, the BIGGEST deal to him

as he wraps his arms around your waist to walk the streets of sotenbori, showing off both you on his arm and the little plushie he won you, he knows he would move both heaven and earth if it meant it would make you proud to call him your lover

[peachetteprice]

heya, can I please request hc’s of how 141 boys would react to their s/o finding out they(141) cheated on their s/o (reader) . im in need of some angst 😭

Oh, boy.

Long disclaimer: this has been in my ask box since July, and I am well aware that it's unlikely you're still in need for angst. I quickly came to the realisation after working on it for a few days that I misread the entire prompt and had written for Price and Soap with YOU being the one to cheat on THEM (141). In my perfectionist state, I abandoned the whole thing, choosing to forgo the whole prompt even if it meant denying someone who was clearly interested in my work something that they'd asked for that I could (reasonably) provide. Nobody should have to wait this long for their ask to be answered, and I'm incredibly apologetic that I was so selfish as to leave it go stale in my inbox. Anon, sweetheart, I highly recommend that you search for another writer to fulfill this, because I'm sure they would gladly dive into the idea that the 141 are cheating on YOU, and not the other way around like I misunderstood. It is entirely uncouth for me to make someone wait this long for a simple ask – don't even get me started that it isn't even in HC format – and I can only apologise that even when it is 'out', now, it is not what you asked for and is my initial interpretation of your ask. I did not do it justice. You deserve better, anon. I sincerely aplogise.

Some of the Boys with Cheating S/Os

TW: General angst, adultery, mild aggression, mention of arson (mild)...

Captain John Price

Anyone knew it wasn't easy being married to a man such as John Price, himself included. He would have traded the life he had if he could, but he couldn't, nor wouldn't, because that wasn't the man he knew himself to be. Sure, in some perverted timeline, a thousand light years away wherein he didn't feel a sense of pride, responsibility, or accountability over the people with whom he shared his country, might he have taken that job as head of accounting he would have been promised, had he gone to university, or simply devoted his life to the blues and twos of the constabulary. None of it would have been harder work that he currently undertook, but it was honest work. And that was the sort of man he was: honest, dependable, and loyal.

That being said, much like the aforementioned, neither of those exclusive three things were easy to achieve. Nor adhere to. But when he stood at that altar in his pin-striped suit, pink and red corsage on chest, and spoke his vows to love you in sickness and in health - and, Christ, he didn't take them lightly - and you returned them, he hoped that you meant it.

And that wasn't to imply that you didn't. You did. Most ardently.

But the nights were long, cold, and unbearable without John. When he was back, he was often distant for a week or two, reeling from whatever madness he saw in the field. If he did make it back into his own mind, he was unlike the man who left beforehand. In fact, he would only return a few days prior to leaving, and then the cycle spun again. And again. And again.

He never spoke about it – the field. Never took a moment to cry in front of you – you heard him, of course you did, in the shower, when he thought you were doing the laundry – and if you did press him on the matter, he simply washed it away with a dismissive hand and a non-committal 'I'm fine, love'.

That might have been when it started. The distance. When the nights become longer, colder, and so unbearable that you needed something to warm the space beside you when he was away. That was all it was ever supposed to be.

John found the men's razor in the bin in the bathroom. It was your colleague, Mark's. He'd come over one evening to comfort you when John was away. It was supposed to be a bottle of wine and a walk home for him, but he woke up in your bed, and there was no stopping what had started, then.

There was no moment of doubt in John.

He knew it immediately; you had another man by your side.

He most expected it. That might have been the most devastating part of all. That, in sickness, he knew you might have longed for the warmth of a man to the point of committing adultery, even if you professed that your heart still lay with him. Even if he knew, himself, that it still did.

You knew he knew it, too, when he sidled into the kitchen with a hand palming his beard, and he placed the razor beside the pot of bolognese you were monitoring as it bubbled away.

"Got something to say?" He asked.

For some god-forsaken reason, there was no malice in his tone. He should have been near-boiling over the thought of another man with his hands on you – the body that he had sworn to cherish and to hold until the day he died.

But, as was the case when he took his vows, he did not take them lightly.

And though you sobbed, pitifully, and asked him to be quick with the divorce papers, so that you might quit your job and move somewhere else - somewhere less suffocating from the lies and the deception – John did not give up.

He threw the razor back into the bin. He sat you at the dining room table. He asked you to explain. Everything. From the very beginning – not since Mark, not since that bloody bottle of red wine, not since the gentle hand he placed on your knee when he should have been out the door – the complete, unabashed beginning when you first lost a modicum of care for him.

When you did finish speaking, the sun had come up. It must have been seven in the morning, but your eyes were so bloated, your words had torn such a scratch into your throat that you couldn't ask what time it was, nor even be able to see the clock on your kitchen wall.

It wasn’t pretty, the things you both spoke about, of the late nights spent texting John, asking if he was doing alright – to utter radio silence on the other end – as another man lay between your legs, suckling against your sopping cunt, and dragging every droplet of cum and sinful moan your voice had to offer, of the dissolved shared affection and broken trust that lined every sentence, of the nervousness as you walked into the pharmacy to ask for a morning-after pill, just to quell the shame you felt about having another man's uncloaked cock in your cunt, even though you were up-to-date on birth control that month.

But if anything permeated throughout the entire conversation, that cemented the idea that, if he hadn't asked you to be his wife, that someone else would have surely filled the role better than you – it was that he was not going to give up on you.

He'd given those vows as a promise, not as a suggestion. In sickness and in health. Till death do you both part. And you could have – and had – moped about how terrible a wife you were, how he should leave at the soonest possible moment and never look back, but that wasn't going to happen, so long as John Price was your husband. 

Because if there was one thing he would do, in every facet of life, perverted timeline or not, it was try.

For John Price would never give up on his lawfully-wedded wife.

John "Soap" MacTavish

There's a pair of underwear in the wash that doesn't fit him. He knows because he tried them on. They're initial-ed in sharpie on the inside label. JR. They're not his initials, that’s for certain. They're not his favoured design. They're not in the shade he wears. They're a lot of things that they aren’t and shouldn't be, like in the wash at all, beside your panties, one of your special weekend bras, and old bedsheets.

James Robinson, your pilates instructor.

It takes him too long to rack his brain before he happens upon the name, arriving at it after consulting your calendar magnet-ed to the fridge, spending the rest of the time thinking with them on the kitchen counter. He nurses a glass of milk as he does. It isn't right for alcohol at the time. It's only five in the morning, though if it were five in the afternoon he would have already taken the next bus to the White Rabbit pub and burnt them in the trash out in the alleyway, just to send a message to you to never give them back to the man who took you from him, when they better suited being strapped to one of his homemade explosives and thrown through the bastard’s office window.

The cereal you munch as he stares at you that same morning tastes sour. Seems like it’s gone off, but Johnny's drinking a glass – his third that morning – so you surmise it’s just about ready to turn. His eyes won't leave you. They often never did, particularly in the mornings, but not like this. Not with such intensity that your stomach draws bile from your liver.

The boxers are in the knife drawer.

You don’t know that the boxers are in the knife drawer, and if you did, you might have even fessed up before he had the opportunity to confront you about it. You’re a coward. You know it. He knows it, too. That’s why he’s waiting for the right time.

And when it is – the right time, that is – he digs them out from between the cutlery and throws them in your lap. It’s silly, really, the thought that takes the place of confusion in your brain. It’s stupid. Naive. Idiotic. Perverted.

"What was that for?" You chuckle, holding them up. Sure, if he wants that now, you're quite ready for it–

"–They're not mine."

All prior concern is embellished with fear. A gall builds in your stomach – you’re about to throw up, and a dry heave makes it to the base of your throat, a quick gulp forcing anything bitter back down. It’s simply foolish, how easily it makes complete sense. The nervous drinking all morning, the gaze that wouldn’t leave yours, the smell of cigarette ash on his fingers when he handed you the carton of milk for your cereal. And you think, oh-so naively, that there may be a chance to refuse his insinuation.

“They're not yours? Who else could these belong to, Johnny? They fit you, don't they?"

"Really? Seriously?" He bites back a disgusted scowl, you see it in his cupid’s bow, hunched up towards his nostrils exactly how it manifests in his nightmares, the scent of rotting bodies, dirty blood, unfinished business. "J.R."

You go blank. There’s nothing at all. You’ve never thought about nothing at all before. It’s a desolate place, the emptiness of your mind. It ruminates in your soul like footprints in a field at night. Who they belong to, why they’re there, why they’re no longer. There’s nothing to be seen, nothing to be heard, nothing to be felt – the trees are too far drawn into the night to be real; tangible.

"Johnny–" it spills out suddenly.

"–Don't you go sayin' my name with those dirty fuckin' lips!” He growls.

"We can – we'll talk about it.” Some things are coming to mind. Not many. Self-preservation related, mostly. “Sit down.” You wave your hands wildly. “I can explain everything, I promise–”

"–Oh," there was almost amusement in his voice, edging on the maniacal, certainly psychotic, "You take me for a fuckin' bampot, don't ye?"

"Johnny, please!"

He nears. He’s animalistic, right now, the way he's stalking you like a tiger who can’t pounce because you haven’t yet turned your back to him, and it wouldn’t be fun until you did. You've never seen that look on him. You never want to again, if he can help it, though you’re not sure he can. It's better suited to the field, staring down an enemy from close range, just before he sets a bullet straight through his head. A sharp fear rises behind the upset. It’s cold. It lingers like a needle beneath skin. It hurts.

"Get out of my house."

"What? Johnny?"

"I said, get out of my fuckin' house!" He swells with an uncanny rage.

Only when you do leave, retreating into the hallway wearing your pyjamas only, does he heave a breath or two that turn solidly into anguished pants, choked sobs and lonely wails. It isn’t supposed to turn out like this, sitting before the lift of your apartment complex, covering the guilt with the ruse of having lost your keys if anyone stops to ask if everything is okay, though everything is most certainly not okay.

James was a nice man. Johnny was a nicer one. But the quell in your throbbing, begging cunt from months of being apart from Johnny was even nicer when James indulged, tongue lapping over your folds like a dog wishing to please its owner. You told him you enjoyed it, even left him with a kiss on his cheek, and he left as soon as it ended, though you hid from him the fact that you threw up in the toilet as soon as you locked the door, sobbing into the same sheets he had you dribble your cum, wishing you could reverse time.

Johnny will never forgive you. That much is true. No matter how much you plead at his doorstep for him to reconsider the relationship – his mind is not so weak, and he finds it endearing that you seem to be convinced otherwise. Though, he does regret one thing – not taking your things, too, along with James’, to the empty lot behind the correctional youth centre and paying the kids there to watch it burn.

BONUS: Phillip Graves

Totally not because I feel bad about letting down anon... no way...

It's three weeks after the fact of your adultery that a text pops up on your phone, unattended, that reads something to the effect of feeling guilty about your time spent with a man for the benefit of revenge, suspecting that Graves, too, has been cheating, as you delicately lament to your best friend, Emily.

Naturally, he confronts you, and you know better than to lie to a man with an arsenal of juggernauts at his disposal, so you confirm his suspicions, and explain that it was by no fault but your own that you slept with Adam.

He’s furious, ardently so – justly so – and you explain that it was undeserved on both sides, to which he seems inexplicably confused, until landing on the understanding that you thought a woman you saw at a hotel with Adam was his lover. And you realise… he wasn’t cheating on you.

And the confusion compounds in your mind, realising his naivité of your illicit relationship was fueled only by the fact that you’d been attending book club at such ridiculous times in the night. He’s pacing, gasping for air as you rightfully say;

“I can’t believe you thought I was going to book club this whole time.”

And he stills, like a lamb, crouches against the dresser, and exclaims with such anguish that you wish you’d never said anything about it at all:

“There’s no book club?!”

| Masterlist |

[dreamlifebunny]

bunny's ✨digital detox✨ + manifestation challenge!

hi friends! i've decided to do a little "dopamine detox" so that i can become more present in my day-to-day, connect with myself and my passions, and apply the law. instead of leaving you without any posts, i thought i would turn this short absence of mine into a challenge so that you can join me if you're interested! this is going to be a very simple challenge that mostly focuses on regaining joy in your life, but i hope it can bring you inspiration and peace.

purpose of challenge: to help your brain enjoy simple things again and fill your life with more joy, to get off of social media and apply the law, and to manifest anything you desire. as you can see, this is mostly a challenge to reconnect with ourselves and what brings us joy, but manifestation is the added bonus of this challenge!

step one:

delete or hide apps on your phone or laptop that involve mindless stimulation. for me, this includes tumblr, social media, checking things that give me notifications like my email, etc. normally, tumblr wouldn't be included in this because i use it for learning about the law, but part of this challenge is about getting offline and actually applying the law, so for now i will be deleting it.

step two:

make a list of activities that bring you joy that don't involve mindless stimulation. here are some ideas of things that i like to do if you're having trouble coming up with your own list:

scripting my dream life and coming up with cute scenarios in my head

writing a letter to a friend and decorating it with my own art or stickers

reading a fiction book and getting lost in the story

reading a non-fiction book to learn things about my passions and interests

singing and playing instruments

journaling or filling out writing prompts

going for bike rides or long walks with music

playing fun video games, but not for hours on end like i normally would heh

step three:

decide what you are going to manifest and choose your favourite methods to fulfill yourself! remember, this challenge is about connecting with yourself and what you love, so pick the methods that make you smile. i really enjoy daydreaming about my desires and feeling every emotion in my body that comes up and knowing that my desire is real.

REMEMBER: this challenge is primarily about doing a digital detox to give our brains more happiness. the main goal isn't to manifest, but it is SO much easier to manifest when our brains aren't constantly stimulated and consuming information. our desires manifesting is an added bonus for this challenge!

step four:

as you engage with your life and connect with awareness (who you are at your core) and as you enjoy activities that bring you joy, remind yourself in whatever way feels best to you that you have all of your desires, and that this extra space you're giving your brain is allowing more space for your lovely desires to show up in your life

step five:

report back during the end of any three-day period from when you start this challenge with your results! results could include how you feel, what you learned about yourself, what you manifested or realized about your manifestation, how your days looked without constantly stimulation, or anything you wish to share!

important note:

detoxing from constant stimulation is a HARD THING TO DO! they design apps to make us addicted, and your need for constant stimulation is not your fault. if at any point this challenge brings up feelings of shame or struggle due to the addiction of constant stimulation, make sure you are compassionate and loving to yourself; you're doing a wonderful thing as a gift to yourself and are a good person who is doing something very tricky, and you should be proud that you are even giving it a try. you are strong and badass and deserve the world and all of your desires! if at any point you need to dip out of this challenge, make sure to pat yourself on the back and thank yourself for trying it and know that you can always do it again in the future if you want to c:

love you friends! i am so excited to see the results of this challenge. i am proud of you, i am inspired by you, and i can't wait to see you all soon! 🥰

lots of love, bunny 💕

[tadpolesonalgae]

Dark!Poly!BatBoys x sex-worker!reader: Pleasure over Morals[***]

A/N: you’re going to want to settle down for this one. Grab a mug of tea, or some hot chocolate, or whatever your chosen comfort drink is, sit down, and get comfortable <3

Warnings: dubcon, reader having a CNC kink, dark content, implied use of force, implied disregard for safe-words, slight non-con in places, bondage, oral (everyone recieving), smut, degradation, masturbation, slight predator play, rough sex, 22.6k words

-Chapter 2-

——————————————————————————————————————————————

“It’s great, Az. It’s just—…” you cut yourself off, reconsidering your words.

He raises a brow in question and you wince. “I’m not sure how much is appropriate for you to hear… I don’t want to be too T.M.I., you know?” He gives you a mildly incredulous look, as if to say he really doesn’t care about any of that. You narrow your brows at him, returning the look of disbelief, “just checking… Better safe than sorry, Az.”

He just rolls his eyes, but continues listening from the opposite sofa in the House of Wind’s library.

He’s stretched out just as you are, the arm of the furniture supporting his lower back while his wings curve over it comfortably. His long legs are crossed at the ankle, resting at the far end of the sofa.

You nestle further into the cushions, surrounding yourself in that familiar coziness. “It’s just, it sometimes gets a bit…tedious.” He gives you a look that encourages you to go on. You sigh, giving out. “I don’t know…It’s just, I’ve been doing this for, what? A couple of centuries now? And at first, it was really fun. Great, even. I got to make a living off using my body, and it felt amazing. I know inner beauty and all that, but to actually experience people willing to hand their money over to touch me, it was incredible. And then when I started getting a steady flow of customers, who continuously came back? Choosing me? Trusting me with their pleasure?” You sigh again, while Azriel listens intently.

“Obviously there were a few scary moments, but nothing I couldn’t handle, and it was always taken care of, thanks to the strict laws here to protect people like me. That Rhys implemented—bless him.” Your eyes shut for a moment as you steady your breathing, trying not to get too frustrated.

“It’s just that after a while…I need more. I have a fair few customers I enjoy seeing. We work well together and they know the business, they don’t try to take advantage of me, or anyone else they see—to my knowledge. But recently…” you rub your temples, considering the merits of venting, getting caught up in a rant when you know you should be grateful you’re getting to live your life how you want without any particular repercussions.

“It’s fine,” Azriel speaks gently from the sofa, “you can tell me. I won’t think you’re being arrogant or unthankful or any of that nonsense.” You give him a look of appreciation. He shrugs it off, nonchalant as always, as if he doesn’t realise how much he helps. How wonderful he is to you.

“Fine,” you laugh, “if you promise not to think I’m an ungrateful bitch.” He shoots you a disapproving look. You wave him off, finally letting all that past irritation bubble up to the surface.

“It’s just, there’ve been more and more males coming in, who just don’t get it. Thinking they’re entitled to treat me and the girls wrong because they’ve paid for us, as if we don’t deserve the usual bedroom etiquette, like we’re below that basic decency, or something,” you snap. “Do you know how many males I’ve had come in, saying that they’re edgy, or hard, or they give out warnings, boasting about how un-vanilla they are but refuse to do anything else aside from choking or missionary?”

You could swear the edges of Azriel’s mouth kick upward as amusement dances in his hazel gaze. You huff in annoyance. “It’s not even bad if you are vanilla! Do what you want as long as it’s safe, but bragging and boasting about something like that can lead to some serious problems down the line,” you fume. “A male came in a couple of weeks ago who said he was pretty traditional and didn’t want anything too intense, so he got assigned to one of the sweeter girls, and then slapped her straight across the face—without once mentioning any tastes for impact play!”

You grit your teeth in annoyance, “how dense do you have to be to do something like that? The poor girl was so stunned it took a her a moment or two to use her safe-word, and the male had the audacity to yell at her for it.” The words come out as a growl. “Seriously, there’s a reason we ask for a list of preferences and kinks along with experience and fetishes. So nobody ends up getting wrongly assigned and so shit like that doesn’t happen.”

You inhale a calming breath, soothing yourself. The girl had been alright, in the end, though she’d been shaky and had been given paid leave for a couple of days to recover. Azriel’s eyes had shifted to a colder shade at the story. “Anything like that happened to you recently?”

“Aside from some small hiccups here and there, no. I’ve been fine…” you trail off, mind wandering elsewhere.

He shifts on the sofa, “what is it?”

You open your mouth, then hesitate. His attention narrows on you—it’s not often you shy from telling him things. “I’ve actually… I’ve been considering quitting.”

His brow knits together, “why? I thought you said you enjoy your work?”

“I do…” you admit, tension draining from your body. “It’s just been becoming a bit monotonous. Same old same old. If not quitting, then a vacation of some kind. Go out and find someone for myself, who’ll make me feel alive again. Someone who’ll…take an interest.”

Azriel opens his mouth to speak when a figure pushes the door open.

You smile, setting your mug down on the small table, swinging your legs off the chaise to make room for Rhys as he nods to Az. He settles beside you, an arm over the back—behind your shoulders—as he presses a quick kiss to your neck in greeting.

“You look exhausted,” you comment.

Indeed, he’s lounging on the other end of the chaise, slumping into the pillows, head tipped back as he groans, legs parted. He rights his position, “long day. Lot of work.” You offer him a sympathetic look, holding out your mug of tea that you’ve been drinking from. He takes it gratefully, finishing it off, before vanishing it into the air.

“Is it a lot of work, or are you refusing to let anyone help you again?” You ask pointedly, knowing his habits. He shoots you a lazy grin, one that’s designed to charm, and seduce, “I’d gladly accept your kind of help.” You roll your eyes, but can’t help the wave of relief that eases through you at the casual flirtation. It’s soothing.

“Anytime you fancy a roll in the sheets, High Lord, you know where to find me,” you drawl back, making him laugh, low and deep. Azriel watches intently, noting that gleam in your eyes as you trace the roll of Rhys’ throat. “I might have to take you up on that offer one of these days,” he chuckles.

“What scheming were you two up to?” Rhys inquires, eyes jumping between you and Azriel. You shrug, casually, “just catching up on life, in general. What’s going on and such.”

“Oh?” His violet gaze dances to yours in question.

You sigh, “I’m considering a vacation, is all.” Rhysand’s brow raises, opening his mouth to speak, no doubt to offer some suggestions, but Azriel beats him to it.

“More than a vacation.” He eyes you from across the room. “You were considering leaving permanently.” You shoot him a look, but sigh. “I love my work, but it’s becoming monotonous,” you explain to Rhys, summarising your conversation.

“How so?” He asks, already giving you his attention.

“Stop it, Rhys,” you chastise, lips quirking up. “I can see you scheming from here. It’s not a problem with my workplace, nothing like that. It’s just…I don’t know…” Your eyes trail back to Azriel’s unsurely.

You sigh heavily, “it’s getting boring. It’s not as exciting as it used to be. I’m not getting that…that spark. It’s the same thing over and over again, and I’m just…needing more.” You grunt, allowing your head to rest against Rhys’s arm.

“Needing more what?”

You perk up when you hear Cassian’s voice from the entrance as he pushes through the doorway. A grin blossoms across your lips as you take the male in.

He walks into the room, but instead of going to Az’s sofa, he stops by you, reaching down to pick you up as he sometimes does. Not that you mind. You’ve always enjoyed physical comfort, just like him. It’s a mutual understanding between the two of you. Which is why when he takes your seat, and sets you sideways on his lap, you settle into him comfortably.

One arm loops around your waist, keeping you still, while the other rests over your thigh. Your own arm snakes over his shoulder as you lean back against the chaise. You stretch out, legs crossing in Rhys’ lap, where one of his large hands wraps over your ankle, fingers grazing the bare skin.

“Thinking of quitting my job,” you summarise, knowing there’s no avoiding this conversation. Cassian looks like he’s about to ask more though, so you divert, “more importantly,” you emphasise, levelling a glare at the High Lord, “Rhys is overworking himself again.” Cassian joins you in your glaring, the Shadowsinger just watching with amusement.

“We’ve established that I’m fine. Especially granted access to your services,” he replies, giving you that easy grin. It switches into a look of contemplation. “Would you be halting all work, or do you think you’ll continue seeing some clients here and there?”

“I hadn’t thought that far ahead,” you answer honestly. “But hold on, how have you all been? I want to know what you’re all up to.”

A tense silence fills the air, and you cringe. “That bad?”

As usual, Rhys fills the gap with and easy smile, “I think all three of us will be requesting your attention by the week’s end.” You roll your eyes, but smile with him, vaguely thankful for the reprieve from that tension. Cassian—bless him—joins in. “Is that what you meant about needing more, huh?” He squeezes your waist and you jolt, a startled laugh coming from your from the sensitive press. “Want all three of us?”

You don’t have time to properly think through his question—offer?—before the Azriel diverts, “do you take multiple clients as once?” You peer over at him, settling back against the solid warmth of Cassian’s chest as you shrug, “sometimes.” You swear the two males on the chaise stiffen a little.

“It’s fun, though,” you reassure, trying to lessen the abrupt tension. “Haven’t had a bad experience so far. I think people seem to be more careful about how they act when there’s someone else in the room to remind them of the outside world. But that’s besides the point.” Azriel nods, satisfied with your answer.

“Have you three…?” You venture, carefully. Cassian’s grip tightens over your thigh, causing you to glance at him curiously. He’s watching you intently, pupils a little dilated. But it’s Rhys who replies, his grin feline, “are you asking whether we’ve ever shared a female, or whether we’ve bedded multiple in a night?” You don’t falter, dragging your eyes away from Cassian’s, “both, I suppose.”

The break in eye contact seems to reawaken the Warlord as he shifts beneath you, huffing with quiet laughter. “When we were young, and arrogant, we’d fuck any female that would spare us the attention,” he grins, “often in the same room as one another, with multiple partners.”

You send him a look, “good to know you’ve always been a shameless flirt.” He just laughs, a deep sound from his chest that makes your own lips kick up at the delightful noise.

“As for if we’ve ever shared…”

There’s that tension again.

Cassian’s mouth forms a cocky grin, “look at us, sweetheart. I’m not sure that sort of devastation should be wrought on one female.” Your own mouth quirks into a tauntingly sultry curve, “I think you’re severely underestimating me, General.” A muscle feathers in his jaw as his eyes flash at the title, but you go on. “I could take all three of you in my sleep.”

His grin turns vulpine at the challenge, hand squeezing tighter at your waist, tugging you against him, but something’s different about this contact. His eyes are molten as he drawls huskily, “is that another one of those nasty little kinks of yours, hm? Is this what you meant by ‘more’? Having someone who matches you for your depravity?”

The other two seem to be watching your exchange very closely… Whether that’s to make sure to keep Cass in line, or because they’re marking your reaction, you can’t tell.

You laugh, still under the impression of it being a friendly game between you two. “I think I have more kinks than all of you combined,” you taunt, and his eyes flash.

“Oh yeah?” He drawls, the pads of his fingers pressing into your thigh. “Maybe you should fuck Az. See who comes out on top.”

“Cassian.”

You’re both drawn out of your verbal sparring match to find Rhysand’s eyes narrowed on his General, in what appears to be warning.

You shift in Cassian’s lap, easing away from him a little as you laugh, “it’s fine, Rhys. We were just playing.” You wave you hand dismissively as you grin, “no harm done.” You’re vaguely aware of Azriel’s gaze on you, so you throw him a little smirk—a teasing quirk of your lips, to show that you’re fine.

The deep hunger in his eyes is like a kick to the stomach, but it’s gone in an instant, replaced by a gentle smile.

A clock chimes seven somewhere in the house, making you snap to. You sigh, easing out of Cassian’s grip as you hop to your feet. “Well, I’ve got one more shift for tonight then I’m off for a bit, so I’ll do some thinking and report back,” you offer an easy smile to the three of them, so grateful for their presence in your life.

Azriel stands from the sofa—as the one who flew you up here, he’s the one who’ll fly you back. You get the vague sense he has an ulterior motive for jumping on the escape but you silence your mind. You’re probably reading into it too much.

“How long are you working tonight?” The High Lord asks, gaze raising from Cass’ to your own. “I’m starting at eight and will be on the clock until seven.”

“That’s eleven hours,” Rhys frowns.

“I get paid by the hour, anyway.” You send a conspiratorial look to Cassian, “most of them don’t manage to last that long, so I get plenty of breaks.” He snickers in response, and you feel the slight weight lifting from the room.

You turn to leave, giving a reassuring smile to Rhys before you turn for the door.

“You know where to find us if you get tired of five-minute failures!”

You snort as you walk down the corridor to where Az will be able to take off. A smile lifts you lips and you fight back a laugh when a soft snarl echoes after the joke.

Azriel’s fingers graze the small of your back as he guides you through the house, despite you having been here so many times before. You appreciate those small touches, they’re grounding somehow; comforting.

You sense he wants to say something, but is holding back until he’s out of earshot.

It’s not until he’s flown you down from the house, and set you on the cobbles by the rainbow—a little way from your work house—that he speaks his mind.

“Before they came in,” he starts gently, in that peaceful quiet of his. “You said you were looking for someone.” Your heart warms at his attention to detail—he hadn’t forgotten that conversation. He’s always listening out.

You nod your confirmation, not looking at him as you set off into a stroll, the male keeping pace, close to your side. The sun’s setting, casting a warm glow across the streets of Velaris, the air feeling dry and warm—a storm’s going to be hitting in a few days. You can’t help anticipating it, that unrestrained hunger and fury that ripples across the sky, hailing down hot rain that would soak you to your bones.

“I think I’d like someone to give me attention, for a change. In…” Your eyes flick to his, hesitantly. He rolls his eyes, smiling slightly as he gestures for you to continue. “In bed.”

Azriel is careful to keep his gaze ahead, even as he feels yours piercing into him, searching for any sign of reaction—the tiniest show of discomfort—that will clue you to stop. He supposes that’s just how you’re accustomed to operating, always watching out for those emotional guides when you’re working. He doesn’t want you to feel like you have to be on guard around him, though.

“Understandable.” He nods, pretending to peer at some of the stores you pass to put you at ease. He swallows when you shift a little closer to him, lowering your voice. “I…sometimes feel a bit…worthless. Or tired. After a shift, I mean.” You take in a deep breath, allowing the air to circulate, loosening the tension from your body. “It’s draining, sometimes, to always be paying attention to my customers. I know it’s part of my job—I have to be the one who’s aware, make sure nothing gets out of hand, that they’re having a good time, and I’m performing to the expected level…” You go quiet, eyes trailing down to the cobbles as you continue on the path to your work.

When you don’t speak again for a while, he glances at you sidelong. Your brow is scrunched, seemingly in thought. He waits quietly for you to open up to him.

Then you raise your gaze, eyes certain, as you declare, “one day, I just want to be fucked. I don’t want to have to think. In fact, I want to be fucked so hard, I’m knocked out of my own head.” When your eyes look to his, a hint of vulnerability there, he has to force a comforting smile to his mouth. Ward off the jealousy, the envy that you aren’t considering them. Maybe this is their chance.

He’s about to attempt to persuade you, but you’re speaking now, pouring out all the words you’d sealed away.

“I’m tired of being the one who has to be attentive. I’m tired of not receiving my own pleasure. Doing this as a job is taking the fun away from it, and I feel drained, Az. I want to enjoy sex again. I don’t want to be stuck in the same two positions for the rest of my life. I want some adventure. I want someone who’ll come along and match me. I don’t want to keep suppressing my own desires, I want someone who’ll bring me new things to try. I want—…”

Again you cut off, eyes widening as they slide to his, in case you’ve said too much.

He fights the urge to grind his teeth.

“I’m just as depraved as you are. Stop worrying you’re going to scare me off.” His wings flare a little, shadows gently wrapping around you as you both turn down a street. “I’m not going anywhere.”

You take him in steadily, then your lips quirk at the edges. “Cassian mentioned that.”

He rolls his eyes, “please, ignore Cassian.” He gestures to you, “continue.” He doesn’t miss the twitch of your lips at the command, and for a second he swears he can see that hunger in your own eyes.

Your work place is in sight now, and when you reach the door, you allow him to follow you inside to your room. To carry on the conversation while you’re preparing yourself.

The room is lit with faelight that’s been spelled to take on a slightly red-ish colour. But with a flick of your wrist, it’s a normal cream. When you’ve finished changing, you return to the side room you’d led him to—so his scent wouldn’t linger in the room.

You’re clad in a silky robe, egg-shell white, the neckline plunging to your navel, where the fabric is held together with the matching silky belt, the gown pooling at your feet as you sit opposite him at what you call the recharging station—stacked with tea, biscuits, snack and fruit. As well as other, work-related objects.

“It’s rare that a customer comes in with…darker tastes. And even when they do, it’s difficult to feel it with them.” Your voice has dropped to a softer tone, as if you’re unused to voicing those thoughts. “Do you…” you hesitate, faltering. “What Cassian said, about…”

A smirk lifts his sensuous mouth, and you could hug him for the relief it brings you, to be on familiar territory. His dark eyes gleam in the low light, but with a devastating hunger you’ve never seen before. That makes you question your chosen relationship with him…because that grin…it promises something you’ve been craving for a long while now.

He shifts in his chair slightly, body relaxing, allowing you a clear view of his broad chest, powerful arms resting atop the edges of the seat, one leg tucked beneath the chair, the other stretching out, and you have to wonder how far it is from your own. His wings loom at his back, shadows wreathing them, curling around their tips.

“What Cassian said about…” he echoes, amusement dancing alongside that starving hunger, features remarkably neutral. Your eyes narrow at him as you observe his behaviour keenly, attempting to figure him out.

“I know what I like, Azriel.” You murmur, gaze never leaving his, like a lifeline of sorts.

“And what is it you like?” He drawls, watching you like a predator would. You blink, but shake off the tingling feeling in your chest. You can trust him. He’s been around for a while, he knows a thing or two about his own sexuality, how deep the fae mind can plummet.

“Sometimes, I want a little more than what I’m given,” you begin quietly, never breaking that connection. “I want more that a light pat on my cheek, or a slight buck of their hips. I want more than their hand keeping mine in place, more than a few measly rounds that don’t even satisfy me…”

Is it you or have his shadows thickened?

“What do you want, pretty thing?” The rough drag of his words has you examining him in a different way, looking at him not as your friend, but as a potential partner.

“Promise you won’t be disgusted?” You ask softly, and he picks up on the hint of vulnerability that he’s ready to pounce on.

He offers a smooth grin—the barest quirk of his lips—as he leans forward on the table, outstretching his hand as if to arm wrestle you, but extends his pinky finger. “I promise.”

The gesture is casual enough that you reach forward, twining your little finger with his own, tightening, but not releasing him. You lean closer across the small, circular table—really only large enough for one person. “Sometimes, if I have a smaller shift—one that ends around three or four—and I have to walk home alone, in the dark… Sometimes I wish someone would just drag me into an alley and take me there.”

Azriel’s mouth goes dry as you spill your secrets, those private fantasies, what you think about after a long night of dissatisfaction and you need relief that will knock you to your knees. He doesn’t show any signs of disgust, nor does he tell you to stop, so you take it a step further.

“Sometimes…I think about what it would be like to have someone lock me up. Strip me down, put me in a collar, and make me obey.”

He’s never seen you flush before, not from shame, not from embarrassment, nor humiliation. But there’s a flush of pleasure warming your skin now, and it’s taking most of his concentration to keep from launching across the table. The rest of his concentration is spearing for Rhys, letting the male into his head to witness this with him—inevitably dragging Cassian in, too.

He hears them curse in sync, catching up on the private conversation.

He tightens his hold on you, pushing closer, “what else?”

Your throat bobs, and he knows all three of them are sharing the same thought.

“Sometimes, I think I’d like to have choice stripped out of my hands. I think I’d like for someone else to be in control of me. To become something to be used…” Your eyes don’t shy away from his as you stare at one another, “…and shared.”

Cassian swears, low and nasty. Rhysand groans with dark pleasure. Azriel doesn’t have to guess at what each is doing.

We can’t let her go.

He can’t even tell who the thought comes from.

Teeth flash as you bite your lower lip. “What about you?”

Azriel’s head goes quiet, and he can feel the others’ stillness. “Sometimes…” he doesn’t even recognise his own voice, so warped with starving hunger. “I think it would be fun to set my shadows on someone. They know everything about how to torture…I think they should learn how to bring pleasure too.”

His eyes nearly roll as he scents your arousal, but he keeps his eyes trained on yours. He notes how still you are, as if sensing that one tiny move will set the predator in him hunting.

“Sometimes, I wonder what it would be like to let go, too. To just indulge, in everything I want, and not care about anything else. I think I’ve been searching for a long time to find someone who could match me, and I think I’m catching a trail.” He can see your breasts peaking through the thin silk, and it takes everything in him to hold his shadows—and himself—back from wrapping around you.

It’s like you’re enraptured, never once moving, hardly even breathing as he leans just a little bit closer—almost imperceptibly so. “Sometimes, I think it would be nice to keep someone. Not love them, or care for them, but keep them.” Keep you. “I think it would be a free-for-all, without rules or restraint, without any limitations. And I think I know a few other people who would also like to indulge in that.”

You hear that offer clear as day, heat rushing your body as you suddenly become aware that the only place he’s touching you is the joining point of your fingers.

A bell chimes in the hallway—the five minute signal—but it barely registers in your mind. Not when you’re staring so deep into his eyes, swallowed in that depthless swirl of arousal and hunger. Hunger for you.

Azriel releases his hold on you, and it takes a moment for that cool space on your little finger to register. “I should leave you.” You nod, almost vacantly, and he takes a damn long time committing your scent to memory.

He stands, and he can see the awareness return to your eyes. He watches as you steadily shut down your arousal in preparation for the night, but you’re unable to banish the heat in your eyes.

He heads to the door, satisfied when you follow behind him silently, padding on cat-soft feet through the room. The barest seed of an idea forms in his mind, and he can’t help himself, firmly raising those mental shields as he kicks Rhys and Cass out for the moment. He wants this between the two of you—he can report back later.

When he reaches the threshold, he stops, turning to you, and he knows he doesn’t mistake the excitement dancing in your irises, as if hoping he’ll change his mind and force you to bed. He has to grit his teeth against his instincts, roaring at him to take you.

“What safe-word do you use?” He asks, gently.

“Huh?” You blink your eyes, coming back from wherever you just went. “You said earlier one of the other girls used her safe-word. What’s yours?”

“Well, to make it easier for customers to remember, Red,” you answer. You wonder why he’s asking.

The slight lift of the edges of his mouth are more arousing than any smirk he’s given you. “But for yourself. What would you choose if you didn’t have to do it for someone else?”

You level him with an assessing look that he weathers, allowing you to make your evaluation.

“Vanilla,” you reply. “I’d choose vanilla.”

[third-generation-female-warrior]

Okay, so, fair warning, this is an anti-Reylo, anti-Kylo Ren, long analysis of The Acolyte, so if you choose to read this and get mad at me for bashing Kylo Ren, that's called a you problem.

Basically, seeing people compare the "situationship" between Quimir and Osha with whatever the fuck Reylo was and putting them on equal pedestals gives me the ick and I think I figured out why.

For clarity, I can't fucking stand Reylo for a lot of reasons, but for the sake of my analysis, I'll keep it condensed for why I can't stand Kylo Ren.

He is the warm mayonnaise of characters.

Don't get me wrong, he was generally interesting in The Force Awakens, when he was framed as the monster with a human face, and that's because the narration in TFA treated him like the goddamn villain he was supposed to be.

And then the pants were shat and the spine was broken when the narrative with The Last Jedi and The Rise of Skywalker was doing backflips on a trampoline trying to give him pathos, trying to make him empathetic, while also decimating literally every other character to put him on a pedestal he didn't deserve on his spit-washed "redemption" arc.

To me, it was like they didn't know what to do with him. Those movies might have been okay if they just stuck with making him the villain and continued to treat him as such. But they didn't, even when he was making bad choices and did nothing but make BAD choices up until the actual last fight, and instead, framed all of this BAD CHOICES as "he's complicated~~ <3" and that's where it all fell apart because the narration didn't like, punish him AT ALL for making these bad and barely even framed these as objectively bad choices.

Now, the Acolyte is different.

In the middle of lavishing us with the eye candy that is Manny Jacinto, and Qimir's apparent lack of threat and honesty to Osha, the narrative did something interesting and brilliant that I hope they continue to lean into.

While showing us how non-threatening Qimir can be, we are given a very rude awakening.

When we cut back to Khofar, it is a very long, very uncomfortable lingering shot of Jekki's dead body, as she is positioned towards the audience with open eyes, not quite looking at the camera, but forcing us to look into the eyes of Jekki all the same.

It is a rude awakening, a reminder that Qimir is a deceiver, and, most importantly THE VILLAIN OF THE SHOW!!!!

Under the facade of the hapless sidekick to Mae was the Sith Master waiting to strike her down should she fail.

A reminder that, through his honesty and intentions with not harming Osha, he is a murderer who could remorselessly justify his own slaughter of an actual child.

We look on as it shows Yord in the dirt, and the pile of dead Jedi bodies and we see that what Qimir has done was terrible and devastating he does not care, even if we do.

And THEN, ohohoh!!! AND THEN! We see how his dark deeds were not solely committed on Khofar, but he is continuing to do terrible things on Ahch-To the Unknown Planet.

Oh, we thought, we thought Osha was safe because she could pin him with his own lightsaber, she could kill him, she could leave!

But it becomes very evident in the last 30 seconds that Osha was never safe as she puts on his helmet, surrounds herself in dark, and symbolically succumbs to it as she closes her eyes.

He has been corrupting her this whole time and that's treated AS A BAD THING, and THAT'S where The Acolyte succeeds and The Sequels failed!

Qimir for his apparent defensiveness, is still treated as the villain, his act of corruption and seducing Osha to the dark side is treated as a scary thing, where you shake your head at the t.v. and beg her to not do it even if you know she's going to anyways.

And then you realize the answer to his riddle to Mae.

You realize this is how you kill a Jedi without a weapon.

And it's all very very wrong.

And, better yet, to finish this off, even though the narration establishes MOTIVE for his anti-Jedi stance, with his scar leading to his supposed backstory of betrayal (that we have to take at face-value for now, even if I think there's more to reveal), the motivation is just narratively justifying him or his actions, and he is STILL THE VILLAIN WHO MUST BE STOPPED!!

[mywitchcultblr]

I find it amusing how some anonymous users call you a hater and a child throwing a tantrum (as if sending hateful messages wasn't). How can they be so blind to this?

The DLC writing is dogshit at best, and I am being generous. FromSoftware not only butchered Miquella's character but other things too. What happened to him wanting to cure his and Malenia's curse? There's no mention of that. The Haligtree—supposedly a home for the shunned and mistreated? Nothing. Granting Godwyn a true death? Nada. The Eclipse? Pfff. The Outer gods and the unalloyed gold? What about him being Torrent's former master? (As the promotional art implied) And the steed choosing the Tarnished? If I recall correctly, wasn't Torrent meant to pick lords? So this means Miquella trusted Torrent enough to let it choose him a consort, yet our role there is practically non-existent. Besides that, as far as I'm concerned, for one to become a god, one must be in contact with the Elden Ring, such as Ranni did, yet we don't see that in the DLC. And the thing that bugs me the most is Miquella abandoning parts of himself, like his love. Like, yeah, "Age of Compassion," but there's something you need for that and it is, y'know, love??? Where's the sense in that? Wasn't the whole point of him become a god and fix Marika's mess in the Lands Between? Not following her steps.

I'm not even going to mention Radahn because his presence here is as irrelevant as in the game.

THANK YOU ANON! Finally someone with sense! People who are saying "Oh you are just angry because the DLC doesnt confirm your headacanon or expectation." The expectation exist because of hints and lore that already exist in the base game, of course you will want to see the big pay off in Shadow. Imagine if you are Dr. Who fan and seeing 13th Doctor turned into a weeping angel but then in the next episode it doesn't go anywhere and she's immediately fine again

I will list others things that aggravate me about SOTE

The battle between Malenia and Radahn: In the base game, their battle is implied to be over runes, and because he was halting the stars and thus Miquella's fate. Malenia invaded Caelid to get Radahn's rune and solving the halted fate business, while general boi also wanting to accumulate more power so he can be Elden Lord with taking hers. Simple but effective.

But now its over a marriage with Miquella?

While it made sense for him to ally with the Haligtree so Radahn can get into the fast track of becoming Elden Lord through marrying Miquella, there's 0 build up anywhere in the base that will led us to believe Radahn even got to do anything with Miquella.

Also while he is a warmonger and certainly not a good person (I dont care what chuds on reddit said, just because a guy likes his horse that doesnt make him nice, I don't even hate Radahn or anything) he genuinely cares about HIS OWN HOLDING.

Now from what I gather from the DLC, he will agree to become Miquella's consort if he got an epic battle first. So now the motivation for Malenia vs Radahn iconic battle is... It was a deadly sparring ritual before the groom settle down? Radahn can you at least do it in a neutral zone so this battle wont destroy your OWN LAND?! There's no way Radahn didn't know that sparring with Malenia could endanger Caelid, especially with the fact that she has ROT. Radahn might be a brute archetype but he's not stupid, yet this DLC made him looks like an absolute oaf who doesn't care about whatever Caelid will survive or not...

2. Mohg: I always thought he will return, he gives me the vibe of a villain who say "I'll be back!" and I thought there's no way the Formless Mother will allow her champion to die just like that. Yeah he's back but in the worst way possible that will make his fans despairing and his haters say "I hate Mohg but he didn't deserve this."

His arc in the base is good, it is conclusive and it made sense.

A guy who was born hated, abused, and shunned by his own mother decided to say FUCK IT and created his own order, cavorting with an Outer God, committed heresy left and right, then kidnapped his half brother so he can force/convince/manipulate/doing blood ritual whatever so Miquella will make him a consort. Then the Tarnished ruined his plan, killed him. It was a well-rounded arc. Its good enough. I always admired his tenacity to give a middle finger to his family. But now? This weird over engineered brainwashing-kidnapping thing undermined the authority of both Mohg and the Formless Mother. Did she even care about Mohg? Why the Formless Mother didn't try to stop Miquella or at least warned Mohg about it?

And what the fuck Mohg is actually doing down there? What was his plan to elevate his order and replace Marika's? How he will do it if he never wanted to become Miquella's consort? With his drip alone? Maybe there are things that I missed about Mohg's plan in the DLC?? But this DLC narrative now undermined his arc and the Formless Mother.

3. Mesmer: While he is still intriguing and judging from youtube (No i havent reach him personally, because you know I'm busy but I spoiled myself, I always do for something as big as BG3 or Souls) I thought he would play a bigger role in Shadow, but not really? He's kinda overshadowed by Radahn who is not supposed to be there

Also Rellana's existence sounds like a sitcom level plot twist? Its kinda funny LMAO "Oh you think Renalla's boss fight sucks and you think she is weak? HERE WE HAVE HER TWIN SISTER RELLANA! ITS THE UPGRADED VERSION OF CARIA 1.0!" (I do like the expansion and exploration of the Carian's family tho)

4. "What about him being Torrent's former master? (As the promotional art implied) And the steed choosing the Tarnished? If I recall correctly, wasn't Torrent meant to pick lords? So this means Miquella trusted Torrent enough to let it choose him a consort, yet our role there is practically non-existent." : THIS YOU ARE SO RIGHT ANON, Torrent chose the Tarnished and Miquella asked Ranni to give the spirit calling bell to whoever Torrent chose. THAT'S MEAN THE TARNISHED ALREADY HAS A CONNECTION WITH MIQUELLA, I'm willing to bet over my right arm, this Promised Lord that Miquella/Malenia mentioned is either supposed to be Godwyn or THE TARNISHED THEMSELVES!

Look Miquella need a lord strong enough to back his claim and help him to change the world right? Why insisting on chasing after Radahn (that never mentioned to have any connection or alliance with Miquella) WHEN YOU CAN HAVE THE GUY WHO DEFEATED RADAHN AND MALENIA THEMSELVES! The Tarnished is already strong enough to challenge MOTHER FUCKING GODFREY and won! It make 0 sense for us not able to become his consort. What do you mean you can make the dream of a guy who is literally called THE DUNG EATER came true and subjugated everyone into a world of pain because shit eater is an edgelord who thinks omens and their suffering are totally cool, but not MIQUELLA'S? Its so bullshit. In the grand scheme of things, Dung Eater is as relevant as a random Tibia Mariner.

I'm still hoping we can see Miquella's ending, I hope its gonna be added. I saw someone mentioned that there's actually Miquella's ending but not implemented? I hope it can be added and at least some aspect of the missing story/plothole fixed, because Elden Ring 1.0 was quite different than what we have now...

This guy on reddit also echoed my statement

5. Godwyn: I don't care what some people said "Oh Godwyn is not supposed to be there, its just your headcanon." Brother... This DLC is about Miquella and Mesmer (even though sadly Mesmer's role seems to be diminished :/) there's should be any mention about Godwyn because Miquella and Malenia loves him very much.

There's a statue of them hugging each other, and if I'm not mistaken there were people who data mined and found tidbits about Miquella trying to resurrect him and there's stuff about Miquella giving up his throne

Show us Miquella failed to resurrect Godwyn, show dont tell! (so it wont impact Fia's ending) or please give us a mentions about him by Miquella, or knights who used to serve pre-dead and rotting Godwyn appearing in Lands of Shadow, something, anything! its like his own family, doesn't give a fuck to solve the problem that his rotting body caused.

6. The gloam eyed queen and Melina: I thought GEQ will be mentioned, since this DLC also delved into Marika's past, I mean GEQ was her rival and she's nearly becoming THE God instead of Marika. But eh nothing about her or Melina :/ Tho I do like tidbits about Marika's past and her village

There's other things... But eh I'm tired of typing lol. I do enjoy Elden Ring, I really do, and I had such a high expectation for SOTE :/ so yeah I became loud about my disappointment because I'm invested

[deathblacksmoke]

24, 78, 64 w/ your sworn enemy noah who’s always getting under your skin but this time he just went to far ://

- @somebodyels3

24. “I’m going to jerk you off until I get every last drop out of you.” 64. “I am going to do what I want with you and you’re going to lay there and take it, understood?” 78. “What did you say to me? Do you want to try that again?”

okay. had to crack the laptop open for this one.

content warnings: hate sex, douchebag noah lol, fuck buddies who hate each other's guts, overstimulation, these two fucks being annoying for absolutely no reason at all :) non-band au

****

It's always much of the same with Noah, plucking at your nerves until you have no choice but to snap. He delights in your short fuse, giggling like a toddler, while you curse whatever came over your boss that made her think he was an appropriate hire.

You curse yourself for letting him into your bed over and over again.

There's not much that prepares you for tonight, having been running the bar alone for the entirety of the day into the early evening, when he tries you at the exact wrong time on the exact wrong day.

"Can you do your job once in your fucking life?" he mumbles under his breath, lugging in a keg and only struggling slightly. You can feel as your blood boils beneath your skin.

"What did you say to me? Do you want to try that again?"

The patrons sitting at the bar are regulars, and you don't want to cause a scene, but you can't fucking stand the way he speaks that way to you so effortlessly.

"I said," he starts, taking a deep breath like he's trying to choose his words wisely. He doesn't. "It wouldn't kill you to help me for once."

Your shoulders tense as you turn your back to him. It takes all of your strength not to walk out, call your boss on the way to your car and quit. Say you're done. Say it's either Noah or you.

You take a deep breath and keep your back to him for the rest of the night. You've gotten through worse nights than this.

"Come to mine when you're off," you whisper in his ear as you leave for the night. You know him well enough to know he'll be at your door in 3 hours flat.

****

It's 2 hours and 58 minutes later when he knocks meekly at your door, texts you an I'm here.

You drag him to your bed and climb on top of him, allowing him to pull your head down to his but denying his kiss. You delight in the way his eyes go wide, a mixture of confusion and hurt. Good.

“I am going to do what I want with you and you’re going to lay there and take it, understood?” He's quick to nod and you almost feel soft for him. Almost. "I don't like the way you talked to me tonight."

"I'm sorry," he says in a way that's uncharacteristically bashful. If you hadn't known any better, you would believe him.

You despise the way you grow soft for him when he doesn't deserve it. He doesn't deserve to be graced with your presence, to lie in your bed, but he's so pretty beneath you that you don't know what else to do. You adjust yourself in his lap and feel him already hard beneath you. It takes all your power to not roll your eyes into the back of your skull, let him take you how you normally do.

Instead, you slide back to his thighs, unbutton his jeans and take his cock in your hand. You need something different tonight, something to think back to later, to reference and embarrass him next time he tests you.

“I’m going to jerk you off until I get every last drop out of you.”

By the third time you let him cum, he's a whimpering, whining mess, writhing under your weight in a way that makes your stomach swoop. You've completely forgotten about using it to humiliate him later, unable to help yourself when you kiss the salty tears away from his cheeks.

You'll let him sleep next to you, play with his hair and let him hold you, both pretending for tonight that you don't want the other dead. It always happens, and he always leaves you cold and empty the next morning. You stop yourself from wondering if he feels the same.

[homelanderbutbig]

You're Just The Right Size (G/T Homelander x Reader)

2120 words. Hurt/comfort and fluff. Homelander is 8 feet tall. Reader is non-descriptive. Established relationship.

Homelander feels self-conscious about his height, and you make him feel better with expert big boy appreciation.

Homelander has a meeting today with Stan Edgar, the CEO of Vought. You personally have never met Mr. Edgar and barely know anything about him, but you have noticed Homelander's anxiety spike whenever they have their little 'discussions'. Somehow, this man not only shows no fear of Homelander, but managed to turn the tables and actually scare the giant supe. On days like these, whatever words he exchanges with Mr. Edgar tend to leave him a bit more gloomy than usual, so you have scheduled in to get off work early to spend more time making him feel better.

When you enter Homelander's penthouse, you call out for him but hear no response. Perplexed, you drop your belongings off at the entrance and start walking inside, expecting to see him moping in the living room. Instead, all you see is his large body huddled into a ball on the couch with his back facing you. You can hear him sniffling and trying to stifle his sobs in your presence; even in times like this he still wants to uphold his bravado and not be completely vulnerable in front of you.

"Oh, honey," you breathe. You've never seen him get this distressed before, and it pains you not knowing how long he has been up here by himself. You climb up onto the oversized couch, nestling yourself into the edge by the armrest. His head is buried in the corner, leaving you enough of a sliver to sit down without being knocked off by his massive back and shoulders.

When you try to console Homelander by placing your hand on his shoulder, you are disheartened when he jerks away from you. Usually he will do anything to get closer to your contact, but right now it appears like he doesn't want anything to do with you. However, you are not going to just leave him alone to collapse further into his sadness. He deserves better.

Again, you put your hand on his shoulder, refusing to back down when he attempts to shake you off. After a while, he huffs in an annoyed acceptance that you aren't going to give up on him, even if it's what he really wanted all along. Gingerly, you begin massaging him as you gauge where he is mentally.

"Mr. Edgar hurt you pretty bad?" you ask, trying to choose your words carefully, as the last thing you want is to trouble him further. When Homelander gives you a tentative nod, you move your hand from his shoulder up to pet the back of his head.

"I'm so sorry sweetie," you try to cheer him up, combing your fingers through his hair. "You know I'm not going anywhere. We're going to get through this together."

Seeming to appreciate your words, Homelander pushes himself back slightly to angle his head into your lap. You still aren't able to see his face as he has buried it into your chest, but you can feel from the wetness growing on your shirt how much he has been crying.

"Can you tell me what he said?" you inquire. You want him to open up and relieve the heaviness he's carrying in his heart, hoping your soothing can keep him grounded.

"H-he… h-he s-said…" Homelander stutters, tensing as he struggles to let his walls down. There is so much that he wants to tell you, to bare his soul about everything Edgar told him that's left him so insecure. But right now he finds it so difficult to talk, trapped in this mute headspace that's stopping his mouth from forming the sentences that are swirling around in his mind. Instead, he settles on getting out the simplest sentence, and what bothered him the most. "I-I… I-I-I'm a-a-a… m-m-monst-ter…" he manages to whisper before breaking down, the weight of those words hitting him like a freight train.

You are unsure of what you can say in this situation, powerless to stop this colossal mountain of a man from bawling and hyperventilating in your lap. He is desperate for any form of tactile comfort, but he still refuses to touch you with his gigantic, destructive hands. Despite knowing you have no fear of him, he is terrified that he will injure you if he attempts to hold you right now. Instead, he wraps his arms around himself in a pathetic simulation of a hug.

Regardless of your own feelings of helplessness, you decide to hug his head tightly while you let him work through his emotions. You bring your heartbeat closer to his ears while you breathe deeply in and out, doing your best to help him focus on you. Thankfully, after a few minutes of uncontrollable sobbing this seems to work as his shaky breaths begin to slow down and match your steady ones.

Once he has calmed down enough, or at least ran out of tears, you give him a light tap on his head to signal him to separate himself from his hiding place and look at you with his red, puffy eyes. As if he is completely in sync with you, he understands what you're after and slowly flips over onto his back and moves further up onto the couch to rest his head on the armrest. This allows you to prop yourself up on Homelander's abs, finally letting you get a clear look at him. He looks like he's been through the wringer, eyes saturated and face physically drained, with his hands clenched tight by his sides. The trauma of his childhood has broken through the armoured exterior he's tried to hard to maintain, and now its fragility is entirely exposed to you.

"You aren't a monster, baby," you reassure him, leaning closer to stroke his cheek. "You might be a little larger than most people, but that just means there's more of you for me to love. There's nothing about you that's scary."

"Can I show you?" you ask, smiling warmly as you sit back upright. Although he is apprehensive at how you could possibly make him feel better about being a giant freak, he cautiously nods. He doesn't want to disappoint you, especially if you already have this speech prepared.

"Well… for starters, you have these lovely big hands," you say, picking up one of Homelander's hands. You take your time to run your hand down his large fingers, each one longer than your entire hand. When you look up at him, he is thoroughly engrossed by your every movement, unable to tear his vision away for a split second.

"They're the perfect size to pick me up with," you continue, gesturing for him to turn his hand over so you can make the same motions along his palm. "They're so warm, soft… and gentle," you note, drawing little hearts along the creases.

"And then you have these big arms," you proceed, brushing your hand up from his wrist to his bicep, which is practically the same circumference as your head. "The right size for me to fit in so snugly," you comment, giving his bicep a firm squeeze. "For the world's best hugs."

"And your big pecs," you detail as you pat Homelander's chest, the length of which is wider across than your shoulders. "They're the best size for me to rest my head on," you remark as you feel along his pecs with your palms, pressing into the soft cushion from his suit's padding. "For first-rate cuddles."

"And your big shoulders," you tell him, moving your hands up to lightly knead his trapezius muscles. His shoulders are twice the length of your own, not even including his eagle pauldrons. "They're the proper size to wrap around when you hold me," you proclaim, lifting your hands up to his neck to caress his jawline with your thumbs.

"And then you have this big head," you say, continuing to raise your hands up from Homelander's jaw to his hair. "It's got a lot of great things about it."

"You have such beautiful hair, which I can't stop combing my fingers through," you explain as you run your nails through his undercut, causing him to whimper. He really can't stop himself from making such happy little noises when you scratch his head like that; you just have this power over him.

"Your big eyes," you add, moving your hands down to his temples. You feel Homelander stiffen slightly as you stop his favourite head scratches, but he quickly softens when you delicately wipe the remaining tears away from his eyes. "That never fail to make me smile, because they always look at me with such love that I can't help but feel happy."

"This big nose", you go on, lowering your hands down to his cheeks. When you rub your nose against his, you can feel him fighting not to use his full strength to push completely into you. "It never forgets to let me know that it appreciates my cooking… or my choice of shampoo", you giggle, kissing the tip of his nose.

"And finally, your big mouth," you state, at last resting your hands back down to Homelander's jaw. "Sometimes it says some really stupid stuff. And sometimes it can be really mean," you reflect, ghosting your fingers over his lip to feel them tremble at your featherlight touches. "But it also tells me how much you love me, and it always makes me feel like I'm the most important person in the world," you reveal, subsequently leaning in for a kiss.

Homelander closes his eyes and breathes deeply through his nose, letting go of the tension he was reluctantly holding onto as he becomes consumed by your affection. Absentmindedly, his hands shift from his sides up to your back, finally allowing himself to hold onto your tiny body.

It doesn't even register in his mind anymore that your frame is so much smaller than him, or how his lips are twice the size of yours. Right now, all he can observe is how easily you've silenced the negative voices in his head, just by being yourself. Truly, you are the guardian swaddling this lost little boy in your blanket of love, protecting him from the vicious beasts that want nothing more than to wound him more than he already has been.

When you eventually break from your kiss, Homelander's gaze flutters open to reveal how dilated his pupils have become from your heartfelt praises. At long last, his body feels like it's been released from the all of the internal torment he was holding onto from Edgar's words, melted into a malleable dough from your compassion.

"It doesn't matter what everyone else has to say," you declare, still cupping his face. His raw eyes are utterly fixated on you, soaking in every word of your admiration. "They're all wrong. They don't know how special you are."

"You're just the right size. My perfect, big boy," you promise him, giving him a gentle peck on his forehead. You leave one hand on his cheek while you gently stroke the top of his hair with the other. "Who are you, Homelander?"

"I… I-I'm your… b-big boy," he mumbles, desperate to hear more validation. He is doing his best not to blink, refusing to miss even a millisecond of your adoration.

"That's right", you hum, smiling at this sad child masquerading as an intimidating eight foot tall superhuman. "You are my big boy. And I think you deserve to know how good you are, right?"

Swallowing thickly, he nods at your honey-laced request, trying not to seem too enthusiastic. He wonders why he even had doubts that you would make him feel better about himself, you always know precisely what he needs.

"Mmmmph…" he sighs soundly when you resume scratching his scalp, purposefully giving him the most attention in his favourite spots. Chuckling, you feel your body vibrating from the deep purring emanating from Homelander's chest, a telltale sign that he has become putty in your hands. He grips onto you tightly, not enough to hurt you, but just to reassure himself that you aren't going anywhere.

When he's in this vulnerable state, you could ask him to do anything for you and he would do it without any hesitation. He would bring the moon down from space, steal the Eiffel Tower from France, rob the Crown Jewels from the Tower of London, or even wipe any city you desire off the map. And yet, he knows you never would. You aren't placating him for selfish reasons, it's purely because you love him and want him to be happy.

And one day, Homelander wishes he could find a way to show you how much he loves you too.

[111angelstheme111]

𝐀 𝐆𝐮𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐓𝐨 𝐁𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐆𝐢𝐫𝐥—𝐈𝐧 𝐒𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐥

DEFINITION— Simply put, ‘that girl’ is who everyone wants to be. She’s healthy, knows her priorities, and most importantly, she puts herself first. She is determined and sets her goals straight, no one can distract her and she knows she’s bound to achieve whatever she wants. 

STEP 1— Set A Goal

As previously mentioned, that girl is the epitome of determination, a true girlboss and she knows exactly what she wants and stops at nothing to get it. Now, let's take a moment to envision her daily routine and lifestyle. Picture how she's always striving toward one goal or another, whether they’re academic or fitness achievements, she’s always in constant motion with an occasional break. 

Here's the exciting part: those qualities you admire so much, you can make them your own. You can turn those aspirations into your reality. It's not about copying her, but rather drawing inspiration from her and crafting your unique path to success.

So, take a list and start setting milestones. Imagine the perfect girl and write down everything you admire about her. Is it her perfect grades? Her body fitness? How she’s never procrastinating? Her time-management skills? Determination? Write it all down!

Now, with everything written down. You’re going to make these points of hers into yours. You’re going to stay committed and actively pursue these qualities until you find yourself in a place you once deemed remarkable. 

STEP 2— Plan Your Success

In this stage, you might be a little overwhelmed. There are things you want to work on but you don’t know which one to choose, or whether you have the time to do so. But don’t worry, because it’s all about choosing your priorities and having to manage your time. 

The first thing you want to do is get a journal or you can use Notion/Google Calendar if you’re lazy like me. Then, write down all of your fixed schedules (like classes, tuition, or part-time) and make out at least an hour at the end of each weekday. 

Ask yourself specific questions to clarify your priorities. Is your main goal to get fit or have an academic comeback? Or do you want to focus on both fitness and your studies?

Build your schedule around your key goals. This means you should prioritise and allocate time for the most important objectives or ambitions you have in mind. 

 !!⠀if you’re having trouble with making up a schedule, feel free to dm me/send in an ask. I’ll be more than willing to help ♡︎

STEP 3— True Competition Is Determination and Discipline

It’s not about how much you’re doing in a period of time, in the end, you’re going to be burnt out and tired. It’s more about how consistent you are. Yes, it might get tiring at one point; and that is when you slow down and cut yourself some slack while keeping the drive going.

You are really training your discipline instead of running on motivation that is bound to run out. That’s why you don’t see ‘that girl’ everywhere. Because everyone lacks discipline and commitment, they’re afraid of being in uncomfortable situations and would rather mindlessly scroll on tiktok than really challenge themselves.

Working on a goal is all about determination. It tests how badly you want it and how much you’re willing to sacrifice for it. But let me tell you, your sacrifices will never be a waste.

STEP 4— Breaks Are Part of The Process

What I hate seeing the most is how people work non-stop with no breaks. If your goal is to be burnt out within a or two week, feel free to be my guest and do what you’ve got to. Your body and mind is not a machine, because you are human and you deserve breaks. 

Whether that is self-care nights, going out with friends, or literally just laying in bed and watching Netflix. You choose your breaks and how often you get them. But be careful not to get carried away and lose sight of your milestones (because I’ve fallen into this trap once too many times).

In the end, balance is key! You want to be on the grind, and still be able to maintain connections and have fun. If you’re capable of finding your balance, let me tell you you’re just on your way to success. 

TIPS— 

ꕤ Romanticise The Hell Out of The Process 

One of the best advice I can give is literally romanticise everything. Get cute stationaries to study with, dress up all pretty just to go study at a cafe/wear your pretty pink gym outfits, listen to songs that put you into the mood, or imagine yourself as the main character of your movie to success (I use this sometimes when I’m really desperate and also bc I’m a delulu).

ꕤ Don't oversleep on weekends; wake up early to make the most of your time.

Tbh I get low-key annoyed when people sleep in during the weekends because of the time wasted you could’ve used to get ahead of others!! 

ꕤ Use Social Media To Your Advantage

I’m never one to be against social media unless you’re not using it to your advantage. For example, your tiktok feed is most probably about trendy videos and memes. But, why not make your feed about motivation, videos that educate you on certain matters and actually bring you knowledge? 

ꕤ Take Inspirations/Motivations From Others

I’m personally a pretty competitive person so looking at people who received Academic Achievers awards really pisses me off and makes me motivated to study harder lol. Try to find your tick and make use of it.

Now that you’ve finished reading this post, it’s time to set your mind on your goals and girlboss your way to it. So my angels, good luck and don’t stop working until you are her.

[queerprayers]

any tips/advice for someone who is not catholic who wants to participate in lent? like how to choose what to give up etc?

Cheers to not letting Catholics have a monopoly on Lent, beloved! Last year I answered a similar ask that might be helpful. Here are the thoughts I have right now!

[CW: discussion of eating/fasting in italics] My most important note/disclaimer: Fasting is not for everyone. It is a beautiful tradition (for Catholics and non-Catholics) that can change people's lives, but if it's going to be a part of your practice, do it on purpose, knowing yourself. It inherently changes your relationship with food--and for people who have always had enough to eat, who have never struggled with disordered eating, who have never been seriously ill, there can be a solidarity and new perspective in fasting, in realizing how sensory experiences and comfort and mortality go together, how privileged you are to have the choice to go hungry. But for those who have struggled with food insecurity, or have lived through/live with eating disorders/disability/illness, or any other experience/relationship with food/the body that changes your perspective, fasting will often be a re-traumatizing or triggering practice that doesn't change your perspective so much as reinforce unhealthy ones. Something I think about: why fast if you cannot feast? Lenten fasting brings us to Easter feasting--if that's not accessible to you, if that wouldn't be joyful or affordable or healthy, fasting probably isn't either. Okay, all that said:

There is so much diversity in what a Lenten practice can look like, and I can't tell you what will be most meaningful for you, but I'll give you some ideas and some questions that have been helpful for me to ask myself! Lent existed way before the Catholic/Protestant divide, and exists among so many diverse communities, and there is a path here for you if you want one.

"Giving up something" is the most common language used for Lent--fasting technically refers to anything abstained from--and generally that's really useful! Jesus's forty days in the wilderness was time that he had nothing but God, and during Lent we can get closer to that experience. I give things up not as punishment or a test of self-control (those ideas trigger unhealthy behavior patterns for me), but as a letting go of something that is in my life but doesn't need to be, and may deserve reconsidering. Sometimes it's a bad habit, but sometimes it's just a conscious allowing of my life to grow simultaneously smaller and bigger. There is space for grief during Lent, but we're not just making ourselves feel bad--I've never found forced emotions to be spiritually helpful. Emotions come and go--we're doing this on purpose, and whatever we feel about it, we make space for that.

Ideas of things to give up:

eating out/getting coffee/buying drinks/little treats

impulse buying/nonessentials (you could pick a category, like clothes, or go all out)

alcohol/drugs/smoking (if this would be starting a recovery journey, I am not the person to ask for advice on that but please do seek help)

social media (you could choose one app to give up, or set time limits--it doesn't have to be all or nothing)

scrolling-on-your-phone time before bed/another time when you get sucked in

another form of casual entertainment (like TV/video games--again, you can limit this rather than cutting it out)

sexual activity (I talked about this here)

makeup/other appearance-related thing (I must confess I have considered doing this and always chickened out. I know that's because it would force me to rethink too many things, which is a probably a sign I should do it one of these years.)

a social habit, like gossiping or getting into arguments online

overscheduling/not having rest days (this is often unavoidable, but rest is necessary and holy, and perhaps this is the season for sacrifice in honor of rest)

single-use plastics/another environmental choice

Note: I don't think any of these things are inherently bad things. This is a list of things we can change/investigate our relationship with or have a season without them as a distraction, not things I think we shouldn't be doing or we should feel bad about.

One of the most important things I've realized is that so often I have given something up and not done anything about it. Like I didn't watch TV for forty days and was mad about it and then Lent was over and I watched TV again. Perhaps this strengthened my self-discipline, or made my life better in a way known only to God, but ultimately nothing happened. I didn't consciously do anything else, I didn't learn anything.

Now, when I give up something, I purposely do something with whatever space it leaves. If I'm not watching TV, what am I going to do when I would usually watch TV? Am I gonna pray? go to bed earlier? call my grandmother? Am I gonna cancel my Netflix subscription for a couple months and donate that saved money? Or maybe I'm gonna give up watching mindless TV, and find stories that resonate and make me think. Don't give things up to check a box, but to reexamine your relationship with them, make everyday things sacred, fill the space/time/money/energy you now have with God, and ultimately to set this time apart.

The other way of looking at Lent practices is things you can add. Often, as I mentioned, they go together--you can pair up something you're no longer buying with somewhere to donate to, or give up an activity and replace it with a new one. I always caution against Lent-as-self-improvement--obviously I can support improving our habits, but I've seen too many people use Lent to restart their new year's workout plans, and while exercise can be a way to care for ourselves, if new year's and Lent are treated the exact same way, what's different about this season? What makes this Lent?

One of the questions I've been asking myself recently is: What are you gonna do about it? When I'm investigating a belief, or learning something new, or reframing an old thought process, I ask myself: What am I gonna do about it? Lent is a path to Holy Week--something I and many others commemorate as the week when God was put on trial and literally killed. I genuinely believe God died and was resurrected--how does this affect my life? Believing something like that and not letting it change you is, to me, inauthentic. When I'm considering a belief, I think, if this were true, how would it change me? Would it lead me to Love? Lent (and Christianity itself) over and over asks us to do something about what we say we believe. Faith without works is dead--and faith is a work, something I do.

It's almost Lent, which is preparation for the Resurrection, which fundamentally changes our understanding of what it means to be alive--so what are you gonna do about it? Not because doing something will make God love you more or make you a "better person," or even because you'll succeed or change your life, but because how can we not? We are of course welcome at Easter having done nothing, but I can't imagine knowing what's coming and not letting it change me.

Ideas of things to add to our lives:

start a prayer/Bible routine--I can now wholeheartedly recommend (as a Protestant who connects with ancient traditions but not always Catholicism) Phyllis Tickle's Divine Hours books! For Bible study, I like The Bible Project's videos.

read a book--it can be anything that connects you with God! (I had a lovely experience with Lenten Lord of the Rings last year, and this year I'm properly going through the Quran)

pick a subject to research (theological or anything else)

start to attend worship services or commit to attending more--this could include going to several different places if you don't currently belong to a church

research places to volunteer for or donate to

do something politically active, like calling your representatives, researching the next local election, or attending a protest

donate to the next [insert number here] posts you see online requesting mutual aid

start a physical practice like taking a walk or stretching

write a letter or call someone regularly, especially with people you've been wanting to connect with more or have unresolved conflict with

start/commit to more regular therapy/other health treatment

ask for help--maybe you're the one who needs mutual aid, or reaching out to, or support cleaning your house or with your kids. there is no shame in this.

These are all obviously things we can be doing year round, and certainly we can use Lent as a season to start something we want to keep with us! I'd also encourage us to have something that's only present during Lent, or something that we do more or in a different way.

You asked how to choose, and I don't have a one sentence answer to that (...obviously), but perhaps in these days before Lent you can look at your routine/habits, the places where God is present, the things you do to distract yourself from life (not a crime--just something to be mindful of), and you can see where Lent might be able to come in and change you. The thing that's nagging at you that you know might be helpful, the thing you're not in control of and just do, the time you take up or the money you spend that might not be bad but also doesn't lead you anywhere. We can't expect every aspect of our lives to be purposeful and present, or to be continuously improving ourselves (in fact, that sounds terribly stressful and unsustainable)--but we can look around us. We can have a season that looks different because everyone I've ever known has a brain that craves ritual in some way--and either we do it on purpose, or we fall into it. Do something (or don't do something) a little more on purpose this season.

Another think to think about is what Sundays will look like for you--the "forty days" don't count them. There's no fasting on Sundays--my mom says every Sunday is a little Easter. "Sundays in Lent" is such an interesting concept because it's very much Lent, but the rhythm of our weeks breaks through. When I give up soda, I'll have one as a celebration on Sundays, but a prayer/reading practice I'll continue through. It's up to you and depends on what your rhythm/habits ask of you.

Ultimately, let God interrupt you. Let Them seep in the cracks of everything you do and let go of. To be loved is to be changed. Even the smallest thing--like wearing a cross necklace every day--can cause our lives to be filled with noticing God's presence. I keep saying to do this on purpose, but know that I find Them much more often by accident.

And an obligatory note: starting Lent late, stopping your practice halfway through, not meeting a goal, whatever comes up--Easter still comes for you. Lent is for paying attention, for making space, not for perfection.

I also want to add that while a lot of Lenten practices (including most I've mentioned here) tend to be personal, ultimately what is asked of us is interpersonal. We make space in our life and be more present in the name of Love--which we cannot do alone. If a practice is not specifically about other people (like volunteering/donating), ask yourself how it will serve the ways you love others? This isn't a trick question, just something to think about. Personally, my study of the Quran this season will connect me with my Muslim siblings through time and enable me to more fully love the Muslims around me, and my rhythm of the divine hours will connect me with the wider Christian community and center me as I go about my day, allowing me to be more present in my relationships.

Easter comes whether we're ready or not--and I don't think we can be ready. But we can look at the small parts of ourselves, set this time apart, see what we can change our relationship with, and perhaps when Easter comes, we will every year have come that much closer to understanding what it means to live out the resurrection by honoring the death that came first.

Wishing you a blessed almost-Lent, and praying for you and your practice (as well as all those reading this)!

<3 Johanna

[askew-d]

Can I ask your top 10 fav fics ever (from any fandom, if you don't mind)?

Also, just curious, is there a story behind your name "askew-d "?

hello, there! sorry for the long wait, i forgot to check my notifs :( i will do better next time. thank you for this question! i feel like i’ve waited ages for someone to ask me exactly that, lol. i could talk about well-written fanfics forever!! can i give you a hug? because this is wonderful, really.

let’s go for it! my range of fanfiction that i enjoy vary, but one thing remains: i will adore your fic, no matter the fandom, if it’s written with passion and if it contains good, poetic introspection. i love poetry. for me, if there’s melancholic tropes of any kind i’m into it. immortal character and reincarnation? give me now. supernatural elements or slice of life with doomed narrative? i’ll ignore sleep to read it. angst with happy ending? my endgame, for sure.

however, i also adore silly, comedic, cute pieces of domestic life or otherwise. i had a hard time choosing from my bookmarks for this, and i also reviewed some of my favorites, it was fun. before we continue, here are some of the tags that i don’t dive into for whatever reason: porn without plot (it personally just doesn’t interest me at all), non-con, gore, a/b/o dynamics, soulmates au. sorry if you were hoping for it! i’ll try classify them into an order of what i like most.

1. jellyfish, by mystery twin, for the haikyuu!! fandom — i read this when i was finishing high school and coincidentally the story talks about finishing high school! i have a personal attachment that makes me reread it every year. it’s some sort of tradition at this point. not to mention i love kagehina dearly.

2. teen project to change the world, by animeloverhomura, for the mo dao zu shi fandom — respectfully speaking, i would find this author and give them a big hug. their writing is spetacular! if you've never seen this one and you're into mdzs, know it's a story where the characters get to see every event from the novel and donghua, even the dead characters. they watch wei wuxian journey, can you believe it? so goddamn entertaining. promptly waiting for the next update!

3. a hundred or so hellos, by iwillstillopenthewindow, for the haikyuu!! fandom — remember i said i love melancholic stories? well, this one broke me so hard, i had to mention how i hold it with tenderness (we love things that breaks us, dont we?). this fandom manages to write the cutest, most unhinged things sometimes. even it's an anime about sports. i always get amazed by it.

4. no certainty of doors between us, by betts, for the mo dao zu shi fandom — certainly the most silly little fanfic i've ever seen, it's hilariously sweet. i want everyone to read this masterpiece because, seriously, whoever did this deserves only the best. so, so, cute. it had to be in my top 10!

5. their kindred encounters, by fireflavoredwhiskey, for the untamed rpf fandom (bjyx) — you know those kinds of shows, books, any piece of media, that tears up apart? well, this one was it for me. it's a very famous one that deserves all praise, certainly well-written and enjoyable to the core, with doses of angst, romance and beauty overall.

6. as the clouds part and clear, we finally meet again, by 12262325, for the mo dao zu shi fandom — aaaaa, i was truly torn between putting this in the third or fourth place, but i ended up putting it here. come on, i love an age difference kind of story, especially for wangxian, and this one was perfectly done. sweet and funny. the development? the yearning?? outstanding!! i read this many times already, i'll never get tired.

7. pursuit, by emleewrites, for the haikyuu!! fandom — mystery, romance, lawsuits, poker games, adventure, slice of life, AMAZING depictions and so, so goddamn well-written? that's what you're looking for in any fanfiction. the author dedicated herself entirely for this story, and, like i said, i love stories that are written with passion, you can see it pouring through every paragraph. besides, highly entertaining. i'm not very into long fics, but once i started it off, i couldn't stop. that's how addicting it is.

8. linger by the door (i’ve always been yours), by piecrust, for the mo dao zu shi fandom — epistolary?? have i mentioned how i love it?? some of the phrases in this are gold, in my bookmarks you can check some of them (i ought to make a list of my favorite fic quotes, btw, i will sure do it). through each letter i could comprehend more of wei wuxian's feelings and his internal conflict. i love feeling this connected to a character.

9. all the world is ours to take, by khrys, for the fugou keiji fandom — i have more than one favorite fanfiction for this couple. you know these kinds of developing relationship where the transition from (maybe enemies too) friends to lovers happens so smoothly that it feels like they've been soulmates first and foremost at the end? i don't even know how to explain. i just love how, when they finally are together, it's like they've been together for years. and they just... made it official? i like it. i love my mr. kambe haru.

10. he won’t tell you that he loves you, by hellshandbasket, for the house m.d fandom — i found this to be the most fitting, perfect story for this specific couple. they deserved more stories like this, but we dont see it anymore. i would hightlight the feelings realization in this one, that is so fucking real? haha in any case, it's a fanfic that i enjoyed a great deal.

that's it, i guess! i wanted to add link click fanfics also, however i barely started reading fanfictions from its fandom, i'm drowning in it lately but it's just a start. perhaps very sooon!

oh, i’m gonna finish explaining about the name! in my native language, i’ve heard someone tell me before that ‘life’s a little askew, nothing’s ever perfect’, and that quote remained in every biography of any english website i ever went to. then in literature class someday i had to write about historical women and came across this one named anne askew (i wanted to write about the mostly barely-spoken women). it was the second time i saw this word. i didn’t think of it as a proper name before, but then i had to create a nickname for my ao3 profile and thought, humn, why not just ‘askew’? the quote has been engraved in my heart anyway, so i went for it. we’re all flawed and askew. so, yeah, it just… fit? the ‘d’ here on tumblr it’s only because my surname has a ‘de morais’ in it. i also liked that it resembled ‘alaska’, the john green character i was kinda of obsessed with back in my teenager grunge phase. i don’t like these kinds of books anymore, but i guess some details stay with you. do you think it’s weird? never thought of changing.

thanks for this outstanding ask, it certainly entertained me. and hope you have a nice sleep today, big hugs coming your way! 🤍

[littlemessyjessi]

I feel, deep in my bones, that one could summon fae!Felix by repeating that bit he does in Topline thrice over in a mirror: BOM DIGI DIGI BOM BOM BOM BOM and maybe it works faster if you try to 'go deep' with it... or maybe this is just stuck in my head in an audio stim kind of way and I live in the land of delulu

A Guide to Summoning Your Faelix: AKA Faerie Felix / the most sweetest thing in the world.

FAE FELIX?

Ok!

SO let's do this!

First, we'll need to set the mood. Obviously, we're gonna need blue. It is his favorite color. Even though poor baby was recently heartbroken because the color analyst told him that blue doesn't work for him. Even though OBVIOUSLY that is incorrect! He is gorgeous in blue. Precious baby. How dare they? Unacceptable.

So, I just feel like it's absolutely NECESSARY that we include blue for the baby chick. Fuck them color swatches.

NEXT! Brownies as an offering. Non negotiable. Here is his recipe. Enjoy. They are fantastic.

Third.... we must call on the spirit of Bang Chan for he can always find his Lixie. Plus, he's our resident source of Lixie information. If he doesn't know, he'll figure it out for us. Bang Chan for President.

Now, it's time to get down to business. This is very serious. Set the lights. Turn on the music. Look in the mirror and say it.

Put all the bass you got in your voice and ..... POOF!

Congratulations! You have completed your very first summoning.

Now, let's discuss care for your Fae Felix.

First and foremost, he is going to require lots of love and affection. If you do not feel as if you can provide adequate love and affection for your Faelix then please reconsider.

If your Faelix does not receive adequate time, care and affection then he will cry. And subsequently, I will come to beat your ass.

BECAUSE HOW DARE YOU! WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE?! DON"T YOU DARE MAKE THIS BABY SUNSHINE CHICKEN CRY! THIS MEANS WAR!

And! I'm telling Minho! And he'll help me whoop ass. So be prepared and think about that when moving forward with your Faelix.

Minho is watching...

Always watching.

Perhaps, a Hyunjinnie would be more suitable for you or perhaps a Minho. They still require love and affection but they do understand that everyone needs alone time.

Though, if you do choose to summon Minho... god help you.

If you have an aversion to copious amounts of physical displays of love and affection, PLEASE AND I AM BEGGING YOU... do NOT summon yourself a Changbinnie. He WILL be giving you his love and you WILL like it.

Fair warning.

But back to Faelix.

Now, please remember that your Faelix can handle some spice but not exceedingly so.

Be mindful of his dietary needs.

If not he'll scream.

On that note, you are going to need to stock up on rice cakes. Trust me. And probably fried chicken. Just do it.

It is also important to note that your Faelix is also sensitive to scary things so he's not likely to be a horror movie buddy for you. If you really, really, REALLY want him to... he'll do it to make you happy. However, he will basically turn your room into a nest at night and cover you with cuddles all night long... because he's scared to death. Poor Lixie. You will have a much better experience if you pick a comedy or action. He'll still cuddle you (if you want it) but it won't be out of fear. And nobody wants a scared Lix. He deserves to be happy.

Also, on this note of Fae Felix. Just so you know, you're not supposed to give fairies your name. No matter how much they beg.

However, Felix is literally the one that you could tell anything and he wouldn't use it against you. You're secret is safe with him. As is your soul.

Now, in summary : It's all important but here are your TOP 3 to remember!

Number One: Please provide adequate love, affection and care for your Faelix.

Number Two: Please mind his dietary needs and plan accordingly. Give him whatever he wants. Or else he is going to become insane.

Number Three: The Final and Most Important Rule of All

Remember that Minho is watching... always watching.

He sees all.

He knows all.

I know, You know, We know, Lee Know

Thank you for coming to my presentation and have a nice day.

Please help yourself to a treat on your way out. We're serving brownies. Obviously.

..............

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this crazy tangent of mine and thank you so much for sending it in!

Love, K

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[444meat]

i would like it if people stopped assuming that all progressions of physical symptoms are due to deconditioning and that if you just worked harder to "push through" your disability and "stay active" you would not have symptom progression. it is Not Always True and it just comes off as you blaming me for aspects of my health that i Cannot Control that are already Actively Distressing to me. this is something that i see a lot in disability spaces. like i'm already struggling with A) my condition itself worsening & B) the mental toll & implications of that. i don't need to see a ton of people who should be understanding make assumptions about my health and tell me that actually it's my fault for not continuing to be active in ways i am physically unable to, especially when this is just not true in my case.

if you are able to recondition yourself and be more healthy through that, that's so cool for you. i mean that genuinely, and i hope that you are able to maintain your lifestyle and be as healthy as you desire. but you are not every disabled person. i have tried that, many, many times, and it has only caused more flare ups that i've never fully recovered from, leading me to end up feeling worse than i felt beforehand. i should not be barred from compassion because of this.

also, even if my condition had worsened due to deconditioning, consider that some disabled people cannot recondition themselves due to other factors in their life. maybe they have other non-physically-active obligations that take up too much time and energy. maybe they have a comorbid condition that gets in the way of reconditioning. maybe they literally just don't think the outcome will be worth the process. and consider that these people have the autonomy to do whatever with their own health & body and that they still deserve compassion and support even if they're "choosing" to be deconditioned. okay thanks