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snekdood · 1 year ago

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im sorry that i had to block you because this topic is pretty triggering for me and I was worried you were going to be like “all content is fine” and didn’t want to be around that energy. I usually try not to knee jerk react like that but in this case it was hard due to my trauma. I can tell this is going to be a hard conversation for me for that reason. and before i even talk about it i wanna say- idk anything about antis or proshippers or whatever tf bc i dont care about fandom stuff and I agree with your other post that reducing it to fandom nonsense is stupid bc I think it ignores actual meaningful conversations around this.

im also sorry if my comment made it sound like I was downplaying your experience with (still assuming: a community within?) tetris, I read your comment as if the game itself was the issue and not the (supposed? im sorry i just dk about your history in this regard (or if there was a community or what)) community, and I get your point but I’d argue colorful blocks =/= cp in its ability to harm people and its a rocky comparison imo. i do genuinely believe drawn images can harm people, even the person drawing it. but regardless, i’m sorry if I made your experience sound trivial, as that wasn’t my intention.

back into the subject though: i do think having stuff like that online is harmful. i agree a lot of the issue is adult spaces mixing with kids spaces, but I really do struggle to believe that seeing something like rape being glorified doesnt effect people, even if they’re adults. no people aren’t gonna go “whelp, time to rape people” as soon as they read something like that, but exposure over time to explicitly non con (not consentual non con) stuff i think does alter your perception of whats “okay”. its in fact the reason id argue my abusive ex ended up thinking its fine to cross peoples boundaries, because of how many times they repeatedly encountered that stuff either online or in their own art after discovering it online.

i just dont buy this idea that fiction never effects reality. fiction that glorifies certain actions without making it clear its bad in some way will embolden people. and while i dont think someone just. plays grand theft auto and starts shooting everyone and stealing their cars, i do believe it can make someone (subconsciously, obv no one directly thinks like this) questioning if they wanna be violent become violent because of how much “fun” it seems in the games or that it becomes “less of a big deal”.

I dont have a solution for moderating this stuff. and I’m also very against censoring things, I literally have a comic thats about a self insert whos a rape victim and going into that story, but bc I worry people will completely miss the point and end up fetishizing the rape, i’ve decided not to actually add anything in the comic that is directly read as rape, rather just hint at it, because honestly it also effects me on a very real level, it’s very triggering for me to see that kind of imagery (and its already hard for me to write the comic bc of the villain being a rapist and how triggering he is to me) but also because I think it could fundamentally alter someones perception of whats fine, especially if they already hate me.

it’s not like *all* depictions of certain things are bad but it depends on whether or not its glorifying that thing and not making it at all clear that its bad. the stuff i was exposed to as a kid explicitly suggested that it was fine and normal, and id argue a lot of fucked up porn online is that- there’s so much fucked up porn made by (likely) cishet dudes that glorifies raping/torturing/killing anime girls or whatever and I just struggle to believe its just an outlet for what they want to do, like i dont think theyre just “getting it all out” in the image, if anything, i think those drawings they make embolden them more. they draw them because they want to see that stuff happen, not because they want to avoid actually hurting people. i really doubt these dudes, if they had access to a girl they could easily over power, wouldn’t try some of that sort of shit on her, at the very least rape her.

I don’t know what the solution is, but i really do not think we need to make space for dudes like that. and i also think its just factually incorrect to say that fiction never effects reality. of course, fiction is born from reality, but its the fact that that subject material is now being spread to a wider audience that makes it effect reality.

I’m worried when this topic comes up that people think the internet should just be a “free for all” and that “anything should go”, that bc we experience censorship in queer spaces that suddenly means everything should be on the table “because conservatives hate us anyways so why not just let it all loose?”. that people will do a 180 from whatever a conservative does, as if that’s helpful in this instance. I do think theres stuff that shouldn’t be tolerated or accepted in our spaces. not saying you dont agree necessarily but thats my general worry about all of this. I really dont think its as revolutionary as people think to go “conservatives think im a horrible person anyways for being queer so that means fuck it all and all kinks are created equal now”, I really do think theres stuff we need to keep out of our community or at least try to, no matter what conservatives say. I think people really need to figure out how to divorce whatever conservatives think and feel from what they think is the best course of action. just because a conservatives does A doesnt mean we should do B, etc. I think thats an attitude that can actually be easily exploited by the right and used against us.

Idk. I have a lot of thoughts on this. All i know is i never want to encounter cp or the weird rape/torture/killing fetish’s some dudes online have. i also dont think there should be any spaces for that. if people NEED to draw it for whatever reason (gonna be hard to convince me they NEED to, but) then they need to keep it to themselves. i dont think there needs to be communities built around this because those communities specifically with the dudes is gonna breed people who are even more misogynistic and who feel even more entitled to womens bodies since they have so many other guys around them agreeing with them. and no, not letting them build public communities isnt going to change or fix the problem, but it sure as hell will prevent people from having to encounter that shit and have their trauma be retriggered.

I want to be clear that I dont think this is necessarily what you’re advocating for, im not entirely sure what you think is the best course of action, but it feels like thats what some ppl on here thinks is the best solution, and that attitude worries me so much.

i will say though that i dont think the government, at least the current USA christofash one we live under, should be moderating this stuff, because they’re obviously just gonna ban content they disagree with (but thats a whole other topic). I at the very least distrust any of our current governments moves to censor things.

and i have once comment in regards to this comment:

obviously ideally we would live in a world where kids aren’t able to access that stuff, but even so, I really do think theres shit that people just shouldnt be posting, because it does effect other adults negatively too, speaking from experience. its not something i know if we can fully moderate but its something i dont think we should just let slide. i also just dont understand why anyone would feel the need to post their rape porn or whatever, anyways.

I think a lot of the issues around this “censorship” thing really falls back into who’s doing the censoring and why. bc while ppl like me might want to be more nuanced about it, the current people who have more power lean more into puritanism and decide all sexual content is bad. It really does feel like an issue of preventing puritanical christian bs from infiltrating our politics, yet again (its always the puritanical christian bs 🙄) and the ppl holding those values having more power and control over the content. idk. i hope this makes sense, ik its kinda all over the place. and im sorry for kneejerk reacting the way I did initially.

Hey, I'm a big time fan of your blog and the circle of blogs similar to it. I love the pro-kink stuff, I love the support of transfun and the general concept that you can vibe with whatever gender and identity you want, I love the positivity, I love bringing attention to trans masc issues.

But I've been seeing some alarming dogwhistles lately. And I've been ignoring them because I really really want to just believe that they were unintentional. But with a recent post you reblogged, I have to ask you something - not out of discourse reasons or to paint you a specific way but because I want to decide what type of people I interact with on tumblr. If you decide to answer my question, please be incredibly clear. I'm not going to hide it behind vague terms like "certain kinks" or "problematic media", I am going to also be incredibly clear.

Do you genuinely believe that if we were in a society where fictional child porn and incest was the norm, that it would have no negative effects on our society as a whole? That media does not represent or change our cultural norms, that fiction can not be used as either propaganda nor as a way to help someone see things in a new light (for better or worse)?

Please be straightforward in your response. Even if it's just a yes or no.

that's a tough question. a quick but unnuanced answer is that I know the meanings behind these when I reblog them, and I do so because I agree with their general messages

the longer answer is... if these things were the norm then people would definitely be interacting with it differently than they do now I think. in some ways they already are somewhat normal, schoolgirl costumes and step-family roleplay come to mind.

ideally, in a world where these fantasies are completely normalized so is education on consent and safety. I don't think there's any real uncomplicated answer to it. but in the world we live in now, as long as things are labeled and not put into spaces where they're inappropriate, there's not really as much harm as some people just feeling uncomfortable

even if these things magically disappeared entirely (which they won't, and as someone with OCD I'd rather have them labeled than out in the wild), they still aren't the source of harm

I said it earlier, but I was groomed with the game tetris. under this framework of media causing harm, where do you go from there? it's a game about blocks, should we ban it and legos too for good measure?

sorry for talking so much when you wanted a short answer, but there's so much nuance here and I like explaining context instead of putting just a little bit of my thoughts out

#im sorry for coming off as so defensive before. I hope you can understand why I might have that reaction due to my own trauma.#its unfortunately hard to read nuance when you're talking about something triggering. at least it is for me idk.#i might reblog this and add on more stuff later if i think of it but yeah ig this is generally my thoughts about all of this.#i will try not to knee jerk react by just leaving for a while if i feel triggered.

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scoonsalicious · 8 months ago

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Unwanted: Chapter 12, Unlucky - Pt. 4

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader

Summary: When your FWB relationship with your best friend Bucky Barnes turns into something more, you couldn’t be happier. That is, however, until a new Avenger sets her sights on your super soldier and he inadvertently breaks your heart. You take on a mission you might not be prepared for to put some distance between the two of you and open yourself up to past traumas. Too bad the only one who can help you heal is the one person you can no longer trust.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, mentions of violence.

Word Count: 1.2k

Previously On...: You learned the extend of Rhodey's condition and, based on Sam's testimony, Carthage is to be held responsible. When Tony ripped into her, Bucky came to her rescue. Much to your embarrassment, Tony called out his penchant for being there for Carthage over you in front of the entire team. Sam overhears how you want Carthage gone; he suggests you, he, and Natasha talk.

A/N: Some interesting information is revealed. Interesting information indeed. This is a scheduled post, so I hope I'm having a good time in NoLa right now! lol

Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917!

Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

Taglist: (Please let me know if you’d like to be added!) @jmeelee @cazellen @blackhawkfanatic @les-sel @marcswife21 @buckybarnessimpp @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @erelierraceala @hayjat @capswife @itsteambarnes @jupiter-107 @marygoddessofmischief @sebastians-love @learisa @lethallyprotected @rabbitrabbit12321 @buckybarnesandmarvel @fanfictiongirl77 @calwitch @fantasyfootballchampion @selella @jackiehollanderr @wintercrows @sashaisready @missvelvetsstuff @angelbabyyy99 @keylimebeag @maybefoxysouls @vicmc624 @sashaisready @j23r23 @wintercrows @crist1216 @cjand10 @doublejeon @pattiemac1

Moments later, the three of you were holed up in your room, as it was on the floor closest to the med bay. You and Nat sat on the couch while Sam, who had quickly rinsed himself of Rhodey’s blood in your shower, and was now wearing your terrycloth robe, sat in one of your armchairs. While passing Jade’s room, you’d put an ear to her door and heard her still crying, the low thrum of Bucky’s voice as he tried to reassure her.

“Spill,” said Nat eagerly. “Who knows how much time we have before Barnes gets back.”

“Yeah, on second thought, this might not have been the best place for a clandestine meeting,” Sam said.

“Just talk!” you urged him.

“Okay, okay!” he began. “So, I think we were set up.”

You and Nat both gasped simultaneously. “You’re not suggesting–” you said, just as Nat said:

“You think Carthage faked the intel?”

Sam shrugged. “I can’t prove it, but none of it adds up,” he said. “To be honest, she was pretty useless on the entire mission. Didn’t come up with a single piece of intel until that final night, and it just so happened to point to an abandoned Hydra base? Come on, man, what are the odds of that?” Sam scoffed.

“We told her protocol dictated we report it back to command, then wait for back up if the intel was deemed worthy of investigating. She got real insistent we check it ourselves, told us it was probably nothing, but even if it was something, it’d just be an abandoned spot. Said her source told her it had a motherlode of dirt on Hydra operatives in positions in international governments. If we could bring it home, we’d be single handedly exposing the very inner workings of Hydra, and how could we not do that? Rhodey wanted to go interrogate her ‘source’ himself, but Jade wouldn’t give it up; said he just had to trust her.” Sam snorted. “Girl, please. You’re a fucking snake.” You couldn’t help but giggle at that; you’d had essentially the same thought, once upon a time.

“Everything we do to try to convince her to hold off, she fights us on. There was nothing we could say to get her to let go of the idea. But we’re thinking Probie just wants to prove herself in the field, right? We’ve all been there. When she took off, we followed her. Figured we’d at least have her six if something went screwy, and we weren’t going to get reamed out by Cap and Stark if something happened to her out there. But here’s the thing:” Sam scootched forward until he was sitting at the very edge of his seat. “She went in there well before us. By at least three, maybe five minutes, okay?” You and Nat both nodded. “So, my question then becomes, ‘how come the shooting don’t start until after me and Rhodey go in?’ ‘s almost like she went in first and gave them the signal to start firing.” You and Nat stared at each other, wide-eyed. It was speculative, true, but…

“And she don’t come out with a scratch, or a drop of blood on her.” Sam continued. “Plus, I checked her clips when she was sleeping on the flight home. Girl didn’t fire a single shot. Me and Rhodey are in a shootout for our lives, and she doesn’t fire one bullet? Almost like she knew she didn’t need to defend herself.”

“Or you,” Nat added thoughtfully.

“Sam,” you began slowly, “I hate her more than everyone else in this building, but you’re making a really heavy accusation. We would need real, hard evidence in order to do anything about it. She could just really be that incompetent.”

“That’s why I’m comin’ to the two of you,” he grinned. “Computer genius and a super spy. Shouldn’t be hard for the two of you to help Ole Sammy out.”

“Ugh, I hate it when you refer to yourself as ‘Ole Sammy,’” Nat bemoaned. “But I’ll reach out to some of my old KGB contacts. See what they drum up. Pocket, can you go through the Tower’s systems, see if she’s tried to access anything she shouldn’t have? Anything that sets off alarm bells?”

You nodded. “Yeah, that’ll be easy enough.”

“Good,” said Sam, standing up. “In the meantime, this stays between the three of us. Pocket, you gonna be able to keep this from Tin Man? He’s a little too cozy with her for my taste.”

You snorted at that. “Yeah, mine, too. Don’t worry, I won’t say a word.”

“Neither will I,” Nat promised.

“Alright then, ladies, meeting adjourned.” Sam said as he walked to the door. You followed him, wanting to see him out. As you opened the door for him, you met Bucky in the hallway, leaving Jade’s room.

“Hey there, Buck,” Sam smiled cheerfully before giving you a peck on the head. “Thanks for the chat, Baby Girl. I’ll see you later.”

You and Bucky watched him walk down the hall before he turned to you, eyes narrowed. “Care to tell me why Big Bird is coming out of our room wearing nothing but your robe?” he asked carefully.

“We’re obviously having an affair,” you said dryly, walking back into your room, him right at your heels.

“Well, if it walks like a duck,” Bucky’s voice was angry as he entered your room.

“Are you serious with that right now?” you asked.

“In that case, you’ve been quacking like a duck for a long time now, Barnes,” Nat said from her spot on the couch.

“Oh, hey Nat,” Bucky said, relief washing over his features at knowing you and Sam hadn’t been alone.

Nat stood up and made her way to the door. “I’m gonna head out, let you two work through your ducking issues. See you later, Pocket. Barnes; nice projection work just now.” With a nod, she was gone.

“Listen, Pocket,” Bucky, blatantly ignoring Nat's jab, began, “about earlier…”

“I get it, Buck,” you said, sighing. “You were just trying to protect your friend. I’ll be honest and tell you that I didn’t love the way it looked, and it was embarrassing. But I’m not holding it against you. How can I when you wherefor looking out for someone you care about, even though I really wish you would care about literally anyone else but her? Sorry– that was petty.” You sighed. “Tony made it worse. He’s the one I’m furious with, not you.”

“Thank you for understanding, doll.” He kissed your forehead. “Stark had no right to yell at her like that. He was way outta line.”

“Oh, I’m completely on Tony’s side about that,” you said, holding up a hand when he began to argue with you. “But you and I are going to have to agree to disagree there.”

The corner of his mouth turned up in a cute half-grin. “Alright, sweetheart.” He pulled you to him. “I’m just sorry your special day got overshadowed by all this other shit. I know!” He looked down on you, grinning. “Why don’t you pack a bag and first thing tomorrow, you and I’ll drive Upstate, find ourselves a nice little BnB, and spend the rest of the weekend celebratin’, just the two of us? Maybe we can drive out to the Catskills, find a nice spot to look at the stars. You always complain how you can never see them in the city.”

“Yeah, Buck,” you said, snuggling close to him. “‘S long as we know Rhodey’s gonna be alright, I would love to do that with you.”

<- Previous Part / Next Part ->

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #james bucky buchanan barnes #james buchanan barnes #mcu bucky barnes #james barnes

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rebouks · 8 days ago

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Do you have any recommendations for starting a story? Yours is so good and it really inspires me to try and make one of my own but idk where to start

Hmmm a tough question! I think we all just kinda start and learn as we go? It's the best way tbh.. if you look back at the beginning of most simblr stories they've usually come a long way! Here's a couple tips that I think might be handy tho...

Maybe we could start a thread and everyone could reblog this with their own tips?! 🤩

Decide if you want to build your own lots/sets or not. If you do you'll probs wanna start off with the main places you'll use that're full of personality, like a main characters house or place of work etc. you can always download some neat lots and edit them to your liking if you're not a builder, or maybe even download a whole save file!

Start a character page (or make an intro post for em if you can't be arsed with the technicalities) - not essential but useful for you and the readers to keep track of who's who and maybe state a few facts about them etc.

Start collecting some poses and ideally rename them so they're easy to find! I personally like to add smth like [PETS] or [KISSING] etc to mine (in s4s) in conjunction with twistedmexi's pose finder to make things easier to grab.

If you use reshade/gshade, taking the time to find or create a nice preset will save you a bunch of time editing.

For the love of god if you're gonna make a bunch of extras, try and dress them in maxis clothes/hair.. I'm so SICK of having to redress everyone every time I clear out a bunch of cc skjdksj 🙈 you can always give em an extra, fancy cc outfit for specific scenes on the day but yeah, do yourself a solid where possible to save time/pain in the future. Same goes for lots you don't use often, try and limit the cc you use!

Figure out if you're a planner or not! If you can't manage without a plan it's okay to take some time before starting to figure everything out and get a detailed outline going. If you're more of a pantser (like me!) you can always just get going with a rough idea in mind and see what happens!

If you're gonna go with the flow I'd still recommend creating at least a rough outline, you don't have to stick to it like glue but it'll probs help you stay on track and I wish I'd have done this in the beginning, esp if you're gonna have a plot heavy story.

Characters > plot.. (imo!) like.. you could have a super interesting plot in mind but if no one really knows or cares about your characters it's gonna have a limited impact/amount of interest. They don't even have to be likable lmao

Give your characters some flaws! It's fun and it makes them more relatable.

Start with a small cast - not a complete must but it'll be probably be easier for people to get to know your pixels if they're aren't a million of them right off the bat. You can always add more later.

Try not to shoehorn your characters into situations they wouldn't end up in just to further the plot.. a hard one to explain and mostly based on intuition but if a scene feels boring, out of place or forced, it probably is! aka.. be willing to kill your darlings. Maybe you've already established that your character is poor or smth but have this fun idea of a road trip montage or whatever.. like you can't just give them a car and the money to drive a million miles just cos you HAVE to see that scene y'know? Maybe they're gonna have to hitch hike, get the bus, or take out a loan? Probs a bad example but hopefully you get the idea! It can sometimes be more fun to force your characters into a different situation than you imagined anyway, like maybe they meet someone really neat on the bus and they join the trip, or maybe whoever they borrowed money from gets all pissy when they can't pay em back quick enough etc etc.

Let your characters guide you - sometimes characters talk to us! You could've had a whole storyline planned for them, or a romance of whatever, but when it comes down to it, it just doesn't feel right and that's okay! Let them lead you in a different direction now n' then.

Write for you! (ugh becca stfu with this shit) I know, I know but really.. if you're not having fun, what's the point? Don't write what you think other people want and learn to be okay with cutting ideas/scenes/characters/whatever! that you aren't excited about anymore. It should never feel like a chore to create, and if it starts to feel that way, take a break or change it up!

I feel like this is super rambly and I've missed a million obvious things but my brain is mashed potato rn lmao.. pls feel free to add your own tips in a reblog or a comment - everyone has a different take on things! I think it's really important just to start and see what feels natural tho 🤸‍♀️🧡

#ranswers #<3333333 #story tips #??#idk how to tag this #my bio says it all u kno.. we're winging it here n have been from the start weeeeeee #i just daydream my sims into ✨situations✨ and then create them like 9/10 times #lmaoo

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turvi · 1 year ago

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id like to request an older!remus x wife involving them waking up together on a rainy Saturday morning 🥹

Ayee thank you so much for this request I hope you enjoy this.

Remus was up before Y/n, enjoying the sound of the rain pattering against the roof and the feel of the cold wind. He loved it when the sky wasn't too dark. And the rain wasn't too heavy.

He saw Y/n sleeping peacefully by his side. She looked so beautiful, but Remus wanted to share this peaceful moment with her. So he woke her up in the most chaotic way.

Remus blew raspberries on her shoulder. He smirked when he heard her groan. When they had first started dating 10 years ago, he would wake her up like a gentleman would. With sweet kisses. Now Remus couldn't help but be annoying to her after they had spent so many years together.

"I'm up...I'm up." Y/n's voice croaked. She opened her eyes to see Remus smirking.

"Morning dove, look, it's raining."

Y/n looked at him in disbelief. "You woke me up to see rain?"

"Yeah, look, it's such pleasant weather. I want to enjoy it with my wife." Remus said, kissing her neck and shoulders, knowing she would melt.

His breath tickled her neck, and she was no longer groggy and pissed. Y/n let Remus tug her closer to him. His stubble pricked against her skin. She gasped. "Growing a beard Mr Lupin?"

Remus smirked and ran his hand across his stubble. "Well, you did say beard might look nice on me, Mrs Lupin."

Y/n leaned in and whispered in his ear. "Are you trying to seduce me?"

She gasped when he pushed her back gently and got on top of her, his nose touching hers. "Maybe I am. What will you do about that, Mrs Lupin?" He loved calling her that. A part of him still couldn't believe this was real. That she chose to spend her life with him.

"Remus, we will get late if you don't stop." she giggled as he continued to kiss her neck and collarbone.

"Just 15 more minutes."' He mumbled against her skin.

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

2 hours later, the couple held each other as they regained their breath. Y/n lightly smacked Remus' arm, which made him jolt. "You said 15 minutes."

Remus smirked at her breathless sight and shrugged. "oops. Let me make it up to you. How about round 2?"

Y/n scoffed and hit him with a spare pillow. In reality, she was just glad to see Remus happy and healthy. The war had taken a nasty toll on him, and Voldemort was growing in power and she was worried whether she and Remus would be able to see each other again or not.

This led them to get married while the war was going on because if their life was ending now, at least they spent it together, in each other's arms.

Y/n thanked the stars that she could see his bright smile again, hear him laugh, trace his scars, and let him know she loved him in this life and the next.

She wanted nothing else, but to be his forever, and Remus needed nothing else but her to be his side.

Remus was so thankful for her that he kissed her again, the kind of kiss you feel in every essence of your living, the kind of kiss that reminds them that it's over and they have each other again.

He leaned back. "Stay here. Let me make you breakfast." Remus didn't move until he drew circles on her hip and cheek, feeling her skin and taking a deep breath his heart reminding his mind she is here.

Y/n smiled "ok...but I will make tea. You add too much sugar."

Remus chuckled as she followed him to the kitchen, quickly preparing their breakfast to enjoy it in each other's presence.

A/N: I hope you like this. REBLOGS AND COMMENTS ARE APPRECIATED

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riacte · 11 months ago

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🥁 Welcome to the first ever "Choose an unhinged Renchanting moment" ✨ALL STARS EDITION✨!!! 🥁

In which winners of the previous nine (!!) polls and the Last Life burning tower scene will battle it out for ULTIMATE UNHINGED RENCHANTING MOMENT!! Deliberately made to cross over from 2023 to 2024 to wish for a new year full of Renchanting <3

If you don't want to read my lengthy and dramatic sports guy commentary you can skip to the poll right at the end.

Now, let's introduce our beloved competitors! With some clips sponsored by @ani-craft, thank you as always <3

Starting from Round 1, the OG, the beginning of this series in Feb 2023— congrats to "Ren calling Maidtyn "very very sexy" completely unprovoked"!. Now, fellow Tumblr users, this is a historical moment because the Maidtyn trend was the Tumblr response to Martyn being active on Tumblr, and it snowballed into the Mint Mistletoes of MCC19 wearing skins of maid dresses (and a butler suit). This is the tangible impact of the Tumblr fan community on MCC. And of course it's about maid dresses.

Round 1 was quickly followed up by Round 2, and narrowly winning by FOUR votes is... [drumroll] "r/place (2022) when Martyn helped place a pixel of blush on RK Ren"!. Truly a chaotic moment that somehow became a highlight even in the overall chaos of those few days.

But the numbers really peaked in Round 3, aka. the Limited Life edition when Martyn's lore stream repeatedly dropped bombs on us. 100% of these moments are from Martyn, by the way. But which unhinged moment was the most unhinged? Which moment will win like Martyn? Unsurprisingly, the most popular option are those two words that basically sum it up— "UNGUIDED HAND". An unhinged moment that won with a whopping 404 out of 1913 votes.

Things did not calm down after Limited Life. Some might say the moments only became more unhinged. 2.5 months after LimLife ended, Round 4 began. Most of these moments are also from Martyn. Most unhinged of all: "Martyn declaring in a low voice: 'Third Life never ended for me'." Yeah it sure didn't, buddy.

Fast forward to September 2023. Treebark Week 2023! Surely the perfect moment for a poll! Also, I need to add that I was so excited about Round 5 that I posted it before TBW ended and... let's say it immediately got worse the day after I posted the poll. My hubris for assuming it was the end... Anyways, Martyn's Tumblr shenanigans kick in once again. Congrats to "Martyn saying nothing about an ask that claims his character is in love with Ren", which also ended up being a significant post to Scurvyblr. For reasons.

Two months after TBW, the pining gets exponentially worse. And I do mean exponentially. Enter Round 6, which has a lot of insane moments, but there was one clear winner, a moment that swept with 32% of the votes— everybody clap and cheer for "Martyn's 50 word 3L AU drabble - "Luck be with ye.... Hand"!! At the time of writing, that post has 4.1k notes. Martyn's just like us. He's writing fanfiction and that's so real of him.

Merely ten days later, fires are crackling, demons are giggling— it's the Decked Out open day! And we got a Renchanting feast! Round 7 emerged from That Iconic Burning Stone Box and was dedicated to moments the stream day. With 39% of the votes, the unhinged moment that swept was "Ren to Martyn: You have very fine lips there and a wonderful neck for kissing". Honorable mentions go to Martyn's Twitch chat (for surviving), Martyn's viewers (for clipping it with varying degrees of "what did he just say??"), and of course, False (for locking them in and kickstarting whatever the improv demon roleplay was).

A few weeks later, the flames have died down— or have they? Round 8 enters with a steel chair and Ren has more unhinged moments now. Martyn's Tumblr takes home another win with "Martyn reblogging a post that calls Ren his “Minecraft boyfriend”!! This is the third win that's from Martyn's Tumblr blog. You love to see it.

Last but not the least, Round 9 from last week! It's finally Ren's turn to dominate. Our winner is.... "Ren mentions going to sleep and dreaming of Martyn’s 'beautiful, beautiful eyes'"!! Appropriately clipped with the caption "Insane".

But that's not all! In Round 1 + 2, I purposefully excluded the altar scene and the burning tower scene because I felt those two would sweep. Now, I think the altar scene is still untouchable but the burning tower seems almost normal now. (As normal as an unhinged moment could be.)

A new unhinged moment has appeared! Challenger approaching! Last Life Ren purposefully sets his tower on fire after knowing Martyn is watching him and Martyn runs to save him while screaming "Ren, what are you doing to yourself! Stop burning yourself!".

Okay, okay, my dramatic commentary is done. Hey, I'm not a Renchanting fan for nothing. Here's the poll. Have fun :D

Much love to all of you <3 here's to another year of unhinged Renchanting moments!

(Also sorry the r/place should be in 2022 not 2021)

#renchanting #treebark #polls #rendog #inthelittlewood #trafficblr #life series #traffic series #i spent like 40 mins writing the commentary lmao #im dramatic it runs in my blood #also i genuinely have no idea what to vote for #so focused on making this poll i forgot i have to vote #RENCHANTING SWEEP!!!!! bc it's all renchanting anyway!!!

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aaivii · 5 months ago

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Just a ramble which I'll elaborate on later, but imo this is the correct number Oscar Piastri dads in F1:

1. Mark Webber, duh obviously

2. Fernando Alonso, learned from him at Alpine and he is also Mark's smthng smthng, y'know (we all love Webbonso)

3. Charles Leclerc, you must be living under a rock if I have to explain this

4. Max Verstappen, those two are just same people in different bodies, I dare you to change my mind

5. Andrea Stella, need not elaborate, but have you guys seen that clip of Andrea congratulating Oscar for his points in Australia'23, and how Oscar goes for a handshake but gets a hug instead, melted into a puddle istg

6. And lastly, my latest discovery, Tom Clarkson, if you guys don't know, he conducts the official F1 interviews and also hosts the F1 podcasts on YT. And OMG!! This guy can give Stella a strong competition if it came to praising Oscar, it is just an opinion of mine. We all kind of go British bias this n that, but at times he feels so Oscar biased sometimes, I lurv it..like yeah be more Oscar biased, someone meeds to praise this babyboy everytime 🤌🤌. It has been I think 2 or 3 podcasts in a row where he has said that Oscar might win one this year, or will definitely have good qualis, loves comparing him to Mark Webber....AND in the latest one where he was talking to Damon Hill about the Spain GP, he said, and I reiterate this, well it's all about fast corners and high speed so it's Oscar's territory really, just like his manager Mark Webber..........🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️🤌

FYI.. I'll reblog this with gifs and audio if I find them, but I really needed to vent about how loved OP is as being so young and doing so good in F1. Might add in some Prema too.🤧🤧🤧

#op81 #oscar piastri #mclaren f1 #f1 #formula 1 #mark webber #hes so loved #hes precious #oscar piastri and his f1 dads

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x-press-it · 29 days ago

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What Loneliness Craves

One touch might be all it takes to feel whole again 🎞️🖤🌹❤️‍🔥✅

Worshiping!Logan Howlett x shy!fem reader

Summary: After a long mission, all you want is to sleep for a week. But Logan, determined to keep tabs on you, makes you realize just how lonely you feel in his absence.

Content Warnings: Smut 18+ Explicit scene (Fingering - F receiving, unprotected p in v, multiple orgasms) - Worshiping!Logan - Pet Names (Kid, bub, sweetheart, darling, baby, goddess...) - Reader Notes: No Y/N, no physical description of the reader, no mention of powers, reader is shy and feel emotional hypersensitivity - Emotional Intensity and Mental Health: strong emotions, including moments of vulnerability and anxiety, deep feeling of loneliness and exhaustion, mutual pining, self-worth struggles, overstimulation, worship - religious imagery and reverent language - Mention of alcohol - Fluff - Angst -Trope: Coworkers to lovers I'm back after 10 years of iatus and fairly new to how things are done on tumblr now, so sorry if I missed any warnings. Also english isn't my first language so there might be typos/weird sentences...

Notes: Worshiping!Logan is leaving rent free in my head since I opened the door for him ^^" - Cover made with canva from an idea I got from this post, Art by me, don't steal and don't forget to credit if you share/reblog - Click on the dividers to find the creator - Need a song to go with it? Don't worry, I got you.

Word Count: 9K (Sorry, not sorry and you're welcome 😜)

The knock at the door is soft but unmistakable. Part of you wants to ignore it, to sink deeper under the covers and hope whoever it is just takes the hint. But then you hear the voice—low and rough, that familiar rasp that somehow feels more comforting than you'd ever admit.

"Hey, kid. Just checkin’ in. You alright in there?" His words float through the door, muffled but distinct.

You blink, processing the last few hours of frustration: the long mission, the awkward trip back with Scott and Jean, the eternity of the debrief, and now Logan standing in the hallway just as you were finally, finally about to get some rest. All you manage is an exasperated sigh.

After a couple of seconds, you call out wearily, "Obviously, no. I just need some damn sleep, and everyone seems dead set on preventing it." Your tone is sharper than you intended, but exhaustion has frayed your patience to threads.

There’s a pause, then Logan’s voice comes again, softer this time, "Mind if I come in?"

With another sigh, you check yourself, making sure your t-shirt and sweatpants are at least somewhat presentable. "Yeah, sure," you reply, sounding resigned.

Logan cracks the door open and steps inside, his gaze immediately finding you sitting on the edge of the bed, a mixture of irritation and weariness etched on your face.

He studies you, eyes narrowing slightly as he takes in the tension that’s all but wrapped itself around your shoulders, the deep fatigue that’s visible even in your posture. His mouth shifts, a faint tug at one corner, almost a smile—maybe even a touch apologetic—before he nods.

“Right. Didn’t mean to add to the racket.” He sounds sincere, like maybe he gets it, more than most would. “But… you’re wound up tighter than I’ve seen in a while. Don’t reckon you’ll relax anytime soon unless someone helps you out with that.”

You look up at him, caught off guard by the unexpected warmth in his tone, not sure what he is hinting at. But before you can respond, he jerks his thumb toward the hallway. “Look, just stay put, alright? Be back in a minute. Promise I’ll make it worth the wait.”

Before you can answer him, he’s already turning away, leaving you with just enough curiosity—and exhaustion—to keep you on the edge of the bed, wondering just what he has planned.

True to his word, he returns just a few minutes later, carrying a worn leather pouch. There’s a small smile—almost sheepish—as he steps inside and closes the door with a quiet click, muffling the mansion’s constant hum. Crossing the room in a few easy strides, he gestures for you to lie on your stomach, his gaze softer, more intimate.

“Trust me on this,” he murmurs, as he settles on the edge of your bed. He pulls a small bottle from the pouch, uncapping it to release the soft, calming scent of soothing oil. “Didn’t figure you for the lavender type,” he says, pouring some oil into his hands and rubbing it between his palms, warming it, “but it does the trick.”

Before you know it, his strong hands slides beneath the collar of your t-shirt, finding the tight muscles of your shoulders. His fingers, precise and steady, easing the tension out of muscles that have been screaming for relief since the mission began. His thumbs knead into the knots at the base of your neck, his touch deliberate as he shifts the fabric, lifting and tugging gently so his hands can reach every bit of tension without asking you to expose yourself. He’s quiet, focused, his touch somehow both grounding and gentle, guiding you toward a feeling of calm you haven’t felt in a long time.

You exhale slowly, the last remnants of frustration beginning to melt away as his hands move with that practiced touch into the tense muscles along your neck and shoulders. Each press of his fingers feels purposeful, as if he’s intent on unraveling the weight of the week with every stroke, and the sensation of his warm hands just beneath the shirt’s collar brings a kind of quiet intimacy that stirs a few butterflies in your stomach.

“Just relax,” he says quietly, his voice softer than usual, as though he’s speaking directly to whatever’s gnawing at you from the inside. “No one’s bothering you for the next while. And if they try… well, I’ll deal with ’em.”

There's a pause, and you’re almost certain you catch the slightest shift in his tone, something gentler, almost… tender.

His hands finally comes out from your shirt’s collar, leaving a cold emptiness, and a shudder shakes you at the thought of him pulling away from you. But he doesn’t. Not really. Instead he clears his throat, his fingers finding your waist, sliding just under the hem of your t-shirt, and he lets his hands drift along your back.

He never asks you to take off your shirt, never even makes a move to remove it himself. There’s something surprising in his restraint, the way he carefully works around it, as if respecting a boundary he somehow senses. Or maybe… maybe he just isn’t interested in you that way. But before you can dwell on the thought, you find yourself adjusting, lifting the hem just a little, almost without realizing it—just enough for him to reach the places that need his touch the most.

He takes it in stride, his hands gliding down your spine with more intent now, applying a gentle but firm pressure that works through the aches and pains buried there. “I read the report. You did good out there,” he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper as his hands trail along your lower back, slow and sure. “Hell of a job, bub.”

His words are simple, but somehow they reach into that part of you that’s been neglected for so long, easing a sense of loneliness you didn’t realize had settled in. Logan’s touch, his voice, the weight of his presence—all of it feels like the kind of comfort you’ve been craving, whether or not you’d admit it out loud. And maybe it’s the exhaustion or the way his words eased the ache of your heart but you feel yourself drifting slowly as the warm press of his hands continue to work over your shoulders blades and down your back, coaxing you closer to the edge of sleep. Another deep sigh escape your lips and just as you’re about to give in, you feel him pull back the hem of your t-shirt and settle beside you, still watching, as though he’s making sure you’re okay.

“Get some rest, sweetheart,” he murmurs, low and close, his voice a quiet promise that you’re safe—wrapped in his presence, shielded from the world, if only for a little while.

The room is still as you blink awake, the quiet pressing in around you. The sheets beside you are cold where he once sat, his warmth replaced by the chill of an empty bed. The softness of his hands, the scent of lavender oil—fleeting, half-faded memories slip through your mind, dreamlike. If it weren't for that faint trace of him clinging to your skin, you'd almost think you’d imagined it, that it was a dream.

But it wasn’t.

The thought should bring you comfort, but instead, it cuts deeper, the hollow ache in your chest growing sharper with each breath. Your hand clutches the sheets, fingertips brushing over the fabric he’d left behind, but there’s no warmth to hold onto. The room feels heavy in his absence, the silence thick and pressing down around you.

Finally, you pull yourself up, feet meeting the cool floor as you wrap your arms around yourself, your chest tightening against the urge to cry. You don’t even know why you feel this restless ache—just that something inside you feels cracked, raw. And the only one who might know how to put it back together… isn’t here.

The room feels stifling, a heavy weight pressing down on you. You need to escape, to breathe. Unable to stay still, you slip out of your room and into the shadowed hallways of the mansion. Your bare feet tread quietly over the carpeted floors, the vast, darkened hallways swallowing each step. The silence settles in, but it doesn’t bring peace; instead, it pulls you deeper into the emptiness he left behind. Even Scott and Jean, even the tense missions and the unspoken glances, had felt less draining than this—the feeling that all the calm he’d left you with, all that gentle ease he’d brought, had somehow vanished into the air the second he left. Now, it’s just you… and this hollow, aching quiet.

In the stillness of the night, your restless feet carry you down the hall without you fully noticing where you’re going and before you realize it, you’re standing in front of his door. The sight of it jolts you out of your haze, your hand already lifted to knock before you even register the decision to come here. Your knuckles brush the wood, a hesitant noise that barely breaks the silence. The second the sound leaves your hand, a thousand doubts surge up, freezing you in place.

What are you doing? It’s the middle of the night. You should leave, before you ruin everything—before you make a fool of yourself, before you shatter whatever gentle thread connected you two in the quiet of the evening. You feel your heart tighten with regret, and you take a shaky step back, cursing yourself for even letting yourself hope for something more.

Then, the door swings open.

Logan’s sharp senses had picked up your approach long before you’d even arrived, and the soft, hesitant knock felt like a whisper of your heartbeat reaching out to him.

When he heard your footsteps retreating something had stirred in him—an instinct, a need. Before he could think it through, he was already halfway across the room, hand on the doorknob.

As he pulls the door open, you freeze, just a few steps away, caught in the soft glow spilling from his room.

God, you’re breathtaking.

For a moment, neither of you moves. His clothes mirror your own, but his eyes feel sharp. Wasn’t he asleep despite the hour? His brows furrow slightly, and a glint of worry twists something deep in your chest as his gaze takes you in—the loose shirt, bare feet, the lingering haze in your eyes from interrupted sleep. You can see questions flickering in his expression, a quiet alertness that wasn’t there a moment ago. But when your gaze lifts to meet his, the sadness there hits him like a punch to the gut. It’s raw and vulnerable, tugging at something deep within him, squeezing his heart until all he wants is to close the distance, pull you in, and promise that everything will be okay.

“Everything alright, bub?” he asks instead, his voice low, but laced with genuine concern. It’s not like you to come to him, especially not like this, and the worry behind his words—the way his hand almost instinctively moves to steady you—makes your heart stutter.

The surprise in your eyes fades, replaced by something softer—something that almost makes him forget to breathe. He lets the silence stretch between you, his eyes searching yours, trying to grasp all the unspoken emotions lingering there. You open your mouth to respond, the words catching in your throat as his gaze waits, steady, braced for whatever brought you here. You shrug, uncertainty settling in as you look away.

There’s no good reason you can find to explain why you’re standing here in the middle of the night outside his door—except maybe that you need him. But you can’t say that. The words are stuck in your throat, leaving only the weight of the ache you’d been trying to stifle. The smell of lavender clings to you, a reminder of his hands easing away your exhaustion, his voice quiet, and his presence just close enough to hold you steady. Somehow, that only makes it harder.

But Logan doesn’t press. It doesn’t matter; you sought him, so there must be a reason, even if you’re the only one who can grasp it. He’s no stranger to struggling with complex emotions that simmer under the surface, knowing the words are there but unable to bring them up, caught somewhere just out of reach.

You shift awkwardly, vulnerability clawing its way up. You try again, opening your mouth once more to say something, anything, but he cuts you off gently. “It’s okay, bub. Don’t have to explain yourself.”

There’s no judgment, no questions. Just him. “Come on in,” he says as he opens the door wider—a silent invitation—and the warmth from his room spills out like an embrace. It looks like the simplest thing in the world. And maybe it is, for him. Stepping back, he gives you the space to step in if you want. In that moment, all the restless ache, all the sadness, begins to fade just a little, as if his presence alone eases the pain.

You hesitate, but in his eyes, you see nothing but quiet understanding laced with concern. He knows you’re holding back and offers a safe space without a word. Finally, your feet move on their own, and you step forward, crossing the threshold. He closes the door softly behind you. The dimly lit room feels smaller now, but not stifling like yours; it’s like stepping into a cocoon of warmth and cedar and him, wrapping around you, steadying you in a way that nothing else could, chasing away the shadows that cling to you.

You’re still a little unsure, your hand nervously playing with the hem of your t-shirt, feeling like one wrong move will shatter whatever delicate balance is holding you both together right now. He doesn’t say anything else, just gestures to the edge of his bed for you to sit, and the unspoken trust between you is almost tangible.

And for now, just this—just him—is enough.

Logan watches as you settle yourself at the end of his bed, your fingers still fidgeting with the hem of your shirt. His gaze softens even more, that raw edge in his eyes easing into something you almost don’t recognize—like he’s trying to shield you from everything weighing on you in that moment.

He doesn’t sit, though. Instead, he steps over to the small cabinet by his bed, pulling out a bottle and pouring a measure into two glasses. With a gentle smile, he presses one into your hand before taking his place on the chair across from you, facing you. “Maybe this’ll help,” he says, his voice soft, lightly clinking his glass against yours before taking a sip.

The whiskey is warm, smooth, chasing away the lingering chill and melting some of the stiffness that’s been weighing you down. You drink in silence, your gaze on the floor, until you feel his hand come to rest over yours, warm ad reassuring, without expectation.

You try to keep your composure, but his touch—solid yet gentle—dissolves what little is left of your resolve. And before you realize it, the tears you’ve kept at bay pool in your eyes, catching you off guard. But Logan doesn’t pull away.

“You know,” he begins softly, his voice as gentle as you’ve ever heard it, “you don’t have to handle everything alone.” His thumb brushes gently over your knuckles, and for a moment, his words reach the ache in your chest, like he’s giving you permission to let your guard down. “I’m here whenever you need me.”

The words burrow into the ache in your chest, breaking something open inside you, and a tear slips free. Logan doesn’t look away. Instead, he reaches out, his calloused thumb brushing it from your cheek with a gentleness that makes you feel fragile, breakable, and yet somehow, like you’re the safest you’ve ever been. His gaze is soft, unguarded, none of his usual rough exterior, and the dam you’ve been holding back finally breaks, tears spilling down your cheeks before you can stop them.

Logan, still holding your hand, doesn’t look away. Instead, he smoothly sets both glasses aside on the chair he’d been sitting on, his movements unhurried, while he takes a seat next to you.

Before you know it, you’re wrapped in his arms, his solid warmth softly eroding the loneliness you hadn’t realized had settled so deep. His free hand rests at your back, drawing soothing circles as he murmurs, “You’re alright, sweetheart. I got you.”

And right now, with him holding you like this, you almost believe it.

That makes the tears come harder, raw and unbidden, and as you rest your head against his chest, Logan’s hold tightens, anchoring you in a way that makes you want to stay right here forever. Each wrenching sob feels like it shakes you both, echoing through the stillness, and in his arms, you sense the way he’s taking in every tremor as though he can shoulder it, piece by piece, with you. The emptiness you’ve been carrying slips free, finally heard and understood without the need for words.

You lean into him, letting everything go, letting yourself be vulnerable in a way you haven’t let yourself in a long time. And he doesn’t shy away—he’s solid, present, his hand still rubbing slow, steady circles at your back, each one easing the ache just a little more. The weight of his head rests against yours, and he lets out a quiet breath, one that feels almost like it’s unraveling along with you. It’s as if your pain, your loneliness, is something he’s felt in his bones too, something he understands as deeply as you do.

Your breathing finally starts to steady, the silence folding around you both, and you become aware of how close you are, how easily you fit against him. His hand is still on your back, his fingers gentle but firm, keeping you grounded, safe.

He doesn’t let go, not yet. He keeps holding you, like he knows just how fragile the moment is, how much you need this. And maybe he does, maybe that’s exactly why he’s here, still holding you as if to say that he’s not going anywhere.

When you finally pull back, his hands linger a little longer than necessary, brushing along your arms before he lets them fall away. You look up, meeting his gaze, and the softness there—the warmth that you almost never get to see—is so clear it nearly takes your breath away. There’s something in his eyes that’s raw, unguarded, as if he’s letting you see right into him, the way he’s been letting you into his heart all this time, even if neither of you realized it until now.

“You good?” he murmurs, voice hushed in the quiet, but there’s a hint of a soft smile tugging at his lips, the kind that makes you feel a little lighter.

You nod, and his smile grows just a bit, a spark of something warmer, softer, flickering between you.

“I’m sorry, I…” you start, but he cuts you off with a gentle shake of his head.

“Nothin’ to be sorry for, sweetheart,” he says quietly, and his hand reaches up to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear, lingering just for a second. “Sometimes it’s just… better not bein’ alone with it, y’know?”

His words settle into you, and once again, you feel the ache ease, a peace seeping into the hollow spaces.

You both sit there in the quiet of his room, comfortable in a way you never thought you could be, the space between you feeling less like a distance and more like something shared—something solid, something real.

And with Logan there, his warmth close enough to feel, you almost start to believe that maybe you don’t have to carry everything alone anymore. The thought gives you just enough strength to voice what you need, a soft whisper leaving your lips before you can second-guess it.

“Can I… spend the night here?” The words are barely more than a breath, and you almost want to take them back, worried he’ll say it’s not a good idea. What you really want to say is, With you. In your warmth, but the words catch, too vulnerable to release.

But he doesn’t hesitate or throw up any walls. Instead, he just nods, voice soft, a steady warmth in his eyes. “’Course you can.” He gestures to his desk, then adds, “I just gotta finish up something, but make yourself comfortable.”

Relief floods you, and you nod shyly, barely believing he’d let you stay. He offers you a soft smile and as you settle onto his bed, you watch him put away the glasses before returning to his desk, the quiet sounds of him flipping through papers filling the room. You take in the comforting familiarity of his place, the faint scent of cedar lingering, grounding you, and his calm presence nearby.

The warm light of his lamp casts a soft glow, creating a rim around his silhouette that makes it nearly impossible to tear your eyes away. As he grades, he asks you about the mission, his voice a low, comforting rumble that eases the tension knotted up in your chest. You tell him about the contact, the files—how it took some time to track them down, but everything went smoother than expected when you finally met them; perhaps even too smoothly. He listens with that rare focus of his, asking about Jean and Scott, prompting an involuntary frown to tug at your lips.

“Jean and Scott are fine,” you say, a hint of frustration threading through your voice. “Though Scott could probably learn not to glue himself to her side every five minutes.”

Logan lets out a quiet laugh, finishing his last mark on the page. Then, with a stretch that pulls his folded arms above his head, you catch the faint shift of muscles beneath his shirt, the strength and ease in his posture.

But he doesn’t let the silence linger long, rising from his chair and making his way to the bed. You feel every inch of space tighten as he stands beside you, his expression unreadable, though his eyes hold a softness that makes your pulse race.

“Alright, scoot over,” the words are a gentle rumble that makes you shiver.

Your heart hammers in your chest, louder than you’d like, but you shift over, trying not to look too eager, as he settles beside you. Gently, he pulls the covers over you both, his arm coming around your shoulders, drawing you closer with a tenderness you hadn’t quite expected. The warmth seeps into your skin, anchoring you, yet leaving you a little breathless all the same.

“This okay?” he murmurs, his voice low, almost like it’s more than just a question—it’s the quiet way he’s asking if this is where you want to be, if the trust you’re giving him feels safe.

You nod, barely managing to find your voice. “Yeah… yeah, it’s perfect.” You can feel the tension melt from his shoulders, and he draws you in just a little closer, his fingers brushing gently along your arm, reassuring you, steadying you.

You let yourself lean into him, feeling the comforting weight of his arm, the steady beat of his heart, and something inside you loosens. In his warmth, you finally start to feel like you can let go of the weight you've been carrying alone.

"Want to talk about what made you cry this much, sweetheart?" His voice is so gentle, it stirs a thousand butterflies in your stomach, soft wings fluttering wildly.

You hesitate, the words lodged somewhere between your mind and heart, tangled up in a mess you’re not sure you want to unpack—not when he’s holding you this close. What if he pulls back? What if saying it out loud makes him realize that the walls you’ve built around yourself are too heavy to break down? So, instead, you give a small shrug, gaze fixed anywhere but on him.

He’s not letting that slide, though. His fingers find your chin, lifting it so his eyes meet yours, and the look in them is something that cuts straight to your core. He’s searching, looking for any hint of understanding on your face, any clue to ease the worry etched into his own.

“Talk to me, darlin’.” His voice is barely above a whisper, warm and rough all at once, a touch of desperation woven into the words. “I hate seein’ you so raw. Tell me how I can help you… Tell me how to make you smile again.”

It breaks something in you. His voice, so soft, so full of a care you’re not sure you deserve, leaves your heart aching in a way you can’t put words to.

“I…” Your voice trembles, and you drop your gaze, the heat of emotion rising, cheeks flushing. But finally, you look back up, letting your eyes roam over the details of his face—the lines of his jaw, the warmth in his gaze, the way he’s watching you so intently. “I felt… empty.” The words come out, quiet, as though admitting it might make it more real.

He nods slowly, waiting, giving you the space to open up. But when you don’t say anything more, his eyes don’t waver, the silent question hanging in the air between you both.

“Is there a way… you could fill up that void?” he asks, voice low, like he’s afraid of breaking the moment.

You shrug, feeling the vulnerability creeping up, the fear that if you answer, if you tell him everything, it might somehow shatter whatever’s here between you two.

“Can I?” His words catch you off guard, a question with a weight you can feel pressing down on your heart, and your breath hitches, your pulse thrumming just a little faster. You try to look away, but his hand shifts, moving from your chin to your cheek, cradling your face in a touch that feels almost reverent.

“Would you… allow me to?” he asks, and for the first time, there’s a raw uncertainty in his voice that you’ve rarely heard.

Your eyes widen, snapping to his. Is he serious? Every inch of you feels frozen, the words lodged somewhere deep, caught in the shock of realizing what he’s asking.

“Do… do you want to?” The words are barely a whisper, breaking in the middle, your voice unable to keep up with the weight of what you’re asking.

“Of course I do.” His voice is soft, steady, like he’s been waiting for this moment, his thumb brushing against your cheek in a way that sends a shiver down your spine. “Been wantin’ to for a long time now.”

Your heart skips, and you finally let it slip out, the confession that’s been haunting you all this time. “Me too.”

A small smile curves his lips, warm and tender, and you feel the heat in your cheeks spreading, creeping up to the tips of your ears. You watch as he leans closer, his gaze steady, the closeness making your pulse thunder in your ears until it feels like this one moment is going to consume every heartbeat you have left.

And maybe… maybe if you did, if you spent the last of your breath in his arms, it would be the perfect way to go, the only place where you feel you truly belong.

You close your eyes just for a second, and then his lips brush yours, soft and tentative, and your breath catches, your lips parting instinctively, inviting him in. The kiss is gentle at first, careful, and it feels like both of you are slowly pouring everything unsaid, everything you’ve held back, into this single moment.

“Damn,” he whispers against your lips, voice rough, his breath mingling with yours. “How am I so lucky?”

As your eyes flutter open, you’re met with his gaze, heavy and full of wonder, like he’s trying to memorize every inch of your face. You give him a small, shy smile, feeling a bit too seen under the weight of his gaze.

“Maybe…” You hesitate, warmth flushing your cheeks as you search for the words. “Maybe I’m your lucky charm?”

The line is cheesy, and you feel heat rushing to your face, fighting the urge to bury yourself against his chest just to hide the embarrassment. But he just chuckles, low and warm, his thumb brushing lightly over your cheek as his eyes roam your face like he’s drinking you in, committing each detail to memory.

“That you are, darlin’,” he murmurs, leaning in again, voice like gravel softened with something sweeter. “That you are.”

His lips find yours again, slow and unhurried, tasting, savoring, like he’s taking his time with his favorite indulgence. The heat between you flares, your body instinctively arching toward him, pressing your chest to his as if they’re two pieces meant to fit together. Your hands find their way to his shoulders, fingers curling into his shirt as the world narrows down to this—just the two of you, here, together.

Your legs entwine with his, pulling him closer as he keeps kissing you, each touch lingering, like he’s trying to make this last forever. There’s an intensity to it, a quiet desperation, like he wants to remember everything—the feel of you, the taste of your lips, the warmth of your body against his. And you know, somewhere deep down, he’s making a promise he can’t quite say, a vow wrapped in every gentle, fervent kiss.

His hands roam gently, as if they can’t bear to leave your skin for more than a heartbeat. Every touch, every kiss, feels like he's staking his claim, like he’s savoring the feel of you under his hands, the softness of your skin against his lips.

“I remember…” he murmurs, his voice a rough whisper between kisses trailing along your neck, each one setting a spark to life. “…the first day you came here.” Another kiss, and you shiver, feeling the warmth of his breath on your skin. “How the sun played in your hair…” His words feel like a prayer, spoken in a reverent hush against you.

Your heart hammers as he continues, his lips brushing your collarbone. “How your eyes shined under it.” He breathes you in, and the tenderness in that single moment makes your heart ache. “And how your lips seemed so soft, so perfect…” His voice dips, roughened with memory and desire. “I wanted to taste them.”

A shudder runs through you, and as his arms tighten around you, it’s like every crack, every empty space inside you, is filling, piece by piece. The walls you built around yourself feel like they’re crumbling, and in their place, there’s only him—holding you close, grounding you, making you whole.

A flood of tears blurs your vision at his words, the intensity of his affection almost too much to bear. Your heart feels like it might shatter, overwhelmed by the rawness of his attention. You want to ask him to pause, to let you catch your breath, but a deeper part of you needs him to keep going, to pull you under until you can’t feel anything but him.

Your fingers slide into his hair, holding tight, and you’re both so entwined that it’s impossible to tell where you end and he begins. His solid thigh presses between yours, igniting a heat that settles low in your core, and the ache becomes an insistent, undeniable need.

"I want you," you murmur, your voice trembling with the weight of it, as if just speaking those words could release the ache, the longing that’s gripped you for so long.

His lips brush along your neck, sending another shiver through you. "You already have me, darlin’," he murmurs, his words laced with a gentle finality. “Ain’t goin’ anywhere.”

A soft whimper escapes you as your hips press against him, the friction driving you deeper into the haze of want. A flush of embarrassment runs through you, but your body has a will of its own, hungry for him, desperate to drink in every bit of warmth he’s offering.

“Shhh…” he whispers, his voice a calming balm, “don’t rush this.” His lips find the line of your jaw, brushing a trail of warmth as he presses you closer. “We got all the time in the world.”

He slows you, anchoring you in this moment. His touch, his steady breaths against your skin, gently pull you back from the edge, letting the need pulse just below the surface, allowing you to feel—truly feel—what it means to have him right here, as close as two people can be.

But even as the urgency eases, a deeper ache remains, simmering low but insistent, drawing you to him.

“Please, Lo…” Your voice is raw, your eyes glazed, pleading. “I need this.”

He lets out a low chuckle, his arms tightening around your waist as he studies you, his gaze soft and unreadable. "Alright, darlin'," he finally murmurs, a spark in his eyes. "Anything for you."

His hand slips beneath the sheets, his touch warm as it traces along your waistline, sending shivers under your skin, then dips under, finding the heat between your thighs. A reverent “Damn…” escapes him as he discovers just how ready you are. One of his finger slips into you, slow and steady, as he shakes his head with a dark smile. “Look at you, darlin’… all set for me.”

Your breath hitches as your eyes meet his. The way he’s watching you, so focused, as if he’s memorizing every expression you make, every soft sound—he’s completely lost in you, his gaze heavy with both desire and adoration.

You can’t hold back; your hips move, seeking more, and he obliges, adding a second finger, building a steady rhythm that has you panting. The friction of your clit against his thigh adds to the rising pleasure, making you gasp, “Oh, god…”

“For you, it’ll just be Logan,” he teases, the corners of his mouth quirking up. You let out a soft laugh, your body shuddering with pleasure even through your chuckle.

And then it hits you—the realization slipping in alongside the mounting pleasure. You love him. This never was just a fleeting crush or harmless infatuation; it’s deeper, the kind of ache that takes root, the kind of feeling that leaves marks.

His fingers keep their pace, curling just right, and he leans close, voice a murmur against your ear. “But you… you’re a hungry little goddess, aren’t ya?” His words make you shiver, your heart pounding with a desperate, heady ache. No one’s ever spoken to you like this, made you feel this way—like you’re both worshiped and needed all at once.

Tears fill your eyes as you hold onto him, fingers tangled in his hair. He captures your mouth in a slow, tender kiss, pouring everything he feels into it, and when the tears finally slip down your cheeks, he doesn’t let go. He just holds you tighter, kissing you as if you’re the only thing he’ll ever need.

“You’re so damn gorgeous…” he whispers, his breath warm against your lips. “The things I could do for you, darlin’…” His voice dips low, almost reverent, each word soaked in devotion. “Anything you ask.” It’s a promise without conditions, the kind that sends a shiver straight through you. You can feel your body teetering at the edge, aching for that final release, and he can sense it too, his fingers curled inside you, urging you on.

“Come on, goddess,” he murmurs, his tone coaxing, steady. “Take that leap. I’ve got you, darlin’.” The words settle over you like a safety net, and all you can do is hold onto him as your body finally lets go, every muscle tightening before the wave of pleasure crashes over you, leaving you breathless, clutching him like he’s the only thing keeping you tethered.

“Logan…” His name is a whisper on your lips, barely a sound, but he hears it, feels it. Your body trembles, and he doesn’t stop, guiding you through every second of your high, his quiet voice a thread grounding you, keeping you anchored. “That’s it, darlin’. I’m right here… All yours.”

You melt against him, laughter spilling out, soft and blissful, until your breath slows and your limbs relax. And then, as the high fades, reality sharpens around you—What have you done? The thought hits hard, like a jolt, and your face heats as you come back to yourself, feeling the full weight of your own boldness. Yet there he is, watching you with that gentle smile, utterly unfazed, as if he’d been waiting for this all along.

“Is my goddess’ hunger finally satisfied?” His hand slips from you, resting on your hip as he pulls you close, like he’s sealing you to him.

The weight of his words, the way he says “goddess” with such warmth, makes you shrink a little in embarrassment. You nod, unable to do anything but smile, a whispered “thank you” escaping as he watches you with that familiar, affectionate gaze. His smile deepens, a hint of pride there, as if he’s just as grateful to be here for you, to be whatever you need.

“Do you want me to…” you fumble with your words, your hand finding his length under the sheets.

His breath catches in his throat as you touch him, and for a moment, he closes his eyes, like he’s savoring every second. When he opens them again, you can see the desire flicker in his eyes. “Only if you want to,” he murmurs, his voice a low rumble, lips grazing your temple in reassurance. You can tell he wants this—you can see it in his gaze, in the tension held in his body. But he’s holding back, leaving the choice entirely to you, and that makes your heart ache with the depth of his care. You offer him a soft smile, feeling your confidence build.

"Of course I do," you say, your words barely above a whisper as you grip him a little more firmly, feeling the way he pulses under your touch through the fabric of his pants. His eyes flutter shut for a handful of seconds, a deep groan slipping from his lips, and it sends a thrill through you. You want to see more of that side of him—the one that unravels under your hands.

“You deserve it,” you say tentatively, and the way his pupils dilate, the sudden, open look of vulnerability in his face—it leaves you breathless as you contemplate the power your words, your voice, holds over him. “You served me well,” you continue with a teasing smile, testing the waters, emboldened by the way he craves your touch. “You deserve a reward for your devotion.” Your words are shaky, but he doesn’t seem to mind; if anything, he seems to fall further under your spell, watching you with a look of pure reverence.

A blissful smile, like you’ve given him a gift he’d only dreamed of, blossoms on his lips, igniting a warmth in your chest. You lower the waistband of his pants along his hips, and he helps you, propping himself on his elbow to create space for his pants to slide down. With a shared sense of urgency, you quickly follow suit, shedding your own pants, feeling a thrill in the closeness and vulnerability.

For a moment, you pause, breath mingling in the space between you, before he reaches for the hem of your shirt, his fingers brushing your skin as he lifts it over your head. You follow, slipping his shirt over his shoulders until he’s bare beside you. Exposed and unguarded, your bodies mirror each other, every inch shared with nothing between you but a deep, unspoken trust.

“God, you’re stunning,” he breathes, his voice low and reverent, the admiration in his gaze making you feel cherished.

“Lie down,” you order, cheeks warm as you push against his chest with a finger, your voice still shaky yet inviting. He holds your gaze, a spark of warmth and willingness in his eyes as he murmurs, “Yes, goddess,” his tone layered with a promise that he’d do anything you ask, gladly. He sinks back into the mattress, anticipation and excitement radiating from him as he watches you push back the sheets. Your heart races as you straddle him, your core pressing against him, feeling the heat radiate from his skin.

As you settle into position, you reach for his hard length, guiding it towards you, a rush of electricity coursing through your body as you align him with your entrance. His breath hitches, and his hands instinctively settle on your hips as you lower yourself onto him, inch by inch, until you’re both tangled together, bodies fully aligned, savoring the stretch and warmth as he fills you completely. For a few seconds, you both go still, reveling in the sensation.

Logan’s hands grip your sides, fingers pressing into your skin with just enough firmness to keep you close. His chest rises and falls with a shaky breath as his eyes, pupils blown wide, never leave yours, darkened with longing and something deeper, reverent, like he’s been waiting for this, for you, longer than he can say.

“You sure know how to make a man feel lucky,” he whispers, hands trailing up and down your thighs with a gentleness that sends a shiver down your spine. His fingers press into your skin, tethering you both, as if he’s afraid you might disappear.

You can’t take it anymore and start to move, slow at first, testing the waters, rocking your hips in a rhythm that has him groaning low in his throat, the sound vibrating through you. His hands travel to your waist, tightening their grip, encouraging yet still letting you take control. You set the pace, finding your rhythm, feeling every reaction, every ripple of tension in his muscles, the way his mouth parts as he lets you take him, guiding him. You revel in the exquisite blend of pleasure and fullness that makes your heart race.

The friction, the closeness—everything feels overwhelming yet so right. His eyes flutter shut for a heartbeat, but he forces them open again, locking onto you like he doesn’t want to miss a single moment. With each roll of your hips, his breathing quickens, and you can feel every shudder, every quiet murmur he lets slip.

“Damn, you’re everything, darlin’,” he whispers, a mix of awe and reverence in his voice, as his gaze locks onto yours, filled with desire. His words wrap around you, the steady warmth and adoration anchoring you as you ride the waves together, each breath, each movement bringing you closer, binding you tighter, like he’s willing to worship you, soul and all.

“Logan,” you breathe, your voice barely a whisper, and he responds by brushing his thumb over your cheek, drawing both of you deeper into the moment as you keep moving, the intensity building stronger between you.

He groans again, low and guttural, the sound vibrating through you and encouraging you to press on. His hands travel down to your hips again, his grip tightening as he urges you to keep going. You can feel the heat building in your core, a delicious pressure that you both chase.

“You’re incredible,” he breathes, his eyes filled with admiration, and you find strength in his words. The connection between you deepens with each movement, each gasp, each whispered encouragement, making you feel as though you’re lost in a world of your own, where nothing else exists but the two of you.

“Just like that, goddess,” he whispers, his voice hoarse, and you shiver at the praise. You continue to ride him, feeling the tension in your body rise, both panting as you approach the edge together.

“Come on, let go,” he encourages, sensing how close you are, his words a plea, like a prayer, each syllable pulling you closer to that edge. Every muscle in your body tightens, as if you’re standing on the precipice of something divine. You clutch his arms tightly, anchoring yourself to him in the overwhelming storm of pleasure.

“Lo…” your voice is breathless, a whisper that speaks of need, and he responds by grounding you, coaxing you further into ecstasy. “I’m right here, darlin’,” he murmurs, his words an unbreakable promise that fills you with warmth and security.

And then, the rush of pleasure bursts through you, overwhelming your senses as you seize against him. Every gasp, every moan is a testament to the depth of what you share. “Oh fuck…” The words slip from your lips, dissolving into soft laughter as the world fades, leaving just the two of you, bodies entwined in bliss.

You feel him tensing beneath you, his breaths coming in heavy pants that send a thrill through you. “May I come, goddess?” he asks, his voice thick with need.

“Yes,” you reply, still riding the waves of your own release. “Come for me.”

He grips your hips hard, his fingers digging in, and you know it’s going to leave bruises, but you don’t care. You relish the thought of him marking your flesh, each pressure heightening the sensations coursing through your body. With a few more thrusts of your hips, he joins you in rapture, emptying himself within you, giving you everything he is without holding back. You feel the warmth spreading inside your core as you watch him come undone under your gaze, a sight so beautiful it sends another wave of pleasure crashing over you.

It’s a strange thing to tower over him like this, to have the Wolverine at your mercy, to command the beast in him with a simple word or glance. But you love it; no, it’s more than that—it empowers you in a way you’ve never experienced before. As he loses himself to you, you feel another ache building inside, an insatiable hunger that suggests you could easily go another round.

But just as you prepare to move again, he stops you, grabbing your hands and pulling you to his chest. “Shhh,” he soothes, kissing your knuckles, his voice a low rumble. “Please, let me have this for a sec.”

You smile, leaning in to kiss his chest before settling there, your fingers playing with the soft hair beneath your fingertips. It feels warm and comforting, a safe haven that makes your heart race with a mix of excitement and tenderness. “Okay,” you whisper back. “You can. You earned it.”

A deep sigh escapes him, one filled with a sense of relief and belonging. “I dreamt of this so much,” he confesses, his hands brushing through your hair, tender and reverent.

In that moment, as you nestle against him, you can feel the weight of his words, the vulnerability wrapped in his admission. It feels monumental, the connection deepening with every heartbeat, every shared breath.

You still feel him rock hard inside you, promises of more pleasure lingering between you, but you don’t move. You’re just content to be here, to enjoy this shared moment.

“I imagined it so often too,” you say, comforted by his words. “But I thought… I thought you didn’t…” Your voice breaks under the emotions and tears well up in your eyes again, a mix of relief and vulnerability spilling over.

He senses the hint of despair in your voice, and he sits up, pulling you closer with a gentle hand on your back. “It’s okay, sweetheart,” he soothes you softly, his voice wrapped in warmth. “It’s over now. I’m here.”

It feels as if all the pain and fear were just a distant nightmare, and you’ve finally woken up in his arms. You kiss him, desperately, as though it’s your last day on earth, and he leans in, his hands wrapping around your waist, anchoring you in the warmth of this reality.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he murmurs as you part slightly, your foreheads pressed together, his breath mingling with yours. “I’ll always be here to care for you, my goddess.”

His words resonate deeply within you, filling you with an overwhelming sense of joy. You can feel the reverence in his tone, the way he honors you, making you feel like the center of his universe.

With trembling hands, you hug him back tightly, tears sliding down your cheeks once more, a testament to the joy he brings you in this instant. He holds you firmly, and in that embrace, everything feels right—safe and cherished, as if you’ve finally found your home in each other.

You stay in that tender embrace for a few moments until he pulls away, his thumbs gently drying your cheeks. “You good?” he asks, worry flickering in his eyes. You nod, feeling the warmth of his concern wrap around you like a comforting blanket.

Shifting your knees, you wrap your legs around him, your ankles crossing at his back. “Still hungry?” he teases, a playful smile spreading across his face. You respond with a low laugh, feeling a rush of warmth at his question.

“Just a little peckish,” you admit, shyly biting your lip while your gaze drift away. But he chuckles, his arms around your waist pulling you closer. “Then I should feed you properly,” he replies, a hint of humor dancing in his words.

Your breath catches in your throat as you feel him moving inside you, the new angle bringing a fresh wave of sensation through your body. The shift sparks a thrill that sends a shiver down your spine, and you chuckle softly, matching his own low laugh. He buries his nose in your hair, inhaling deeply, and something primal flares within you, urging you to start grinding against him once more.

“Yes, darlin’” he murmurs, his voice low and sultry. “Use me to satisfy yourself.”

In the crook of your neck, you can feel how much Logan is lost in you—in your warmth, the love he feels for you, and the pleasure that pulses between you, a beautiful cycle of give and take. You feel overstimulated, but stopping now feels impossible, as everything—the heat of him inside you, his skin against yours, his hair tangled in your fingers, his breath hot on your neck—drives you crazy.

With each thrust, you get closer, faster, to the edge once more. His movements quickens, each thrust more desperate, more consuming, stoking the fire between you to a near fever pitch. It’s as if he’s lost control, chasing something unspoken, a force that drives you both to the breaking point. Every motion sends a jolt through you, a spark that ignites in sharp, dizzying bursts, each one building, spiraling higher, until it feels like you might shatter and fuse together in the same breath. The intensity crashes over you, drowning everything but him, the world narrowing to just his heat, his touch, his name on your lips.

“You close?” you whimper, voice breathless, and he nods in the crook of your neck, breath hitching. “Me too, baby,” you reply, heart racing. “Let’s come together.”

“As you wish, goddess,” he breathes, his panting matching the tightening tension between you. Pressing your ankles in his back, you lock your arms behind his neck as he draws you closer, his embrace grounding you both.

It doesn’t take long—just a few more deliberate, powerful thrusts, each one pushing you both closer, the pleasure cresting like a tidal wave poised to crash. You can feel him trembling against you, the last of his restraints slipping, and the anticipation is almost unbearable.

“Yes…” you cry out, your head tilting back as laughter bubbles up, spilling into a gasp. “Yes, baby. I… I’m—”

Coherent thoughts slip away as a low grunt escapes his lips, the two of you riding the wave of pleasure together. The intensity, raw and pure, consumes you, and tears prick at your eyes, spilling down your cheeks in the blissful haze.

“Oh, Lo… I love you so much,” you blurt out, unable to contain the overwhelming emotion filling your chest.

“I love you too, darlin’,” he replies through gritted teeth, his voice hoarse as you both come down from the height of sensation, holding each other close.

Finally, the world blurs and fades around you, leaving only warmth, your breaths mingling, and the erratic rhythm of your hearts beating as one as you rest against him. Logan cradles you, his arms enveloping you as if you were always meant to be right here, with him. The thumping of his heartbeat slowing beneath you becomes a cocoon of safety and love, a silent promise that feels like forever.

“I didn’t know you were that hungry,” he finally says softly, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head as his breathing steadies. You bury your face in his chest, feeling warmth rise in your cheeks.

“Sorry,” you murmur, voice barely above a breath. He chuckles, the sound like a warm embrace, wrapping around you.

“Don’t be sorry, love.” He cups your cheek, turning your face toward him, his eyes a tender blend of love and understanding. “I’m here now, and I’ll always take care of you.”

Taking a deep breath, you try to gather your thoughts. “It’s just… it’s been a while since I felt anything close to satisfying that… hunger I had for you,” you admit, voice tinged with embarrassment as the words slip out. “Nothing and no one ever came close.”

His lips curve into a small smile, a knowing glint in his eyes. “I get it. But you don’t have to hold back anymore. I’m yours—fully, completely.” His thumb brushes the lingering tears from your cheek, and the sincerity in his gaze makes your heart swell.

“Just tell me what you need, and I’ll make sure you get it,” he adds, his voice low and steady, a solemn promise between you. You nod, feeling a deep sense of relief, knowing you’re safe, cherished, and free to explore every corner of this love together, without fear.

Notes: If you enjoyed it, don't forget to comment and spread the love 😊 More on the way!

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creatingblackcharacters · 7 days ago

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Some of my thoughts for your conversation about inaction towards antiBlack/racist behavior in shared online spaces (particularly fandom).

1. "I dont see it / I dont go here" - this was my first thought/defensive reaction and in reading others responses I think its a shared one.

Tumblr is perhaps unique in how purposely you can shape your experience and limit what you interact with. Blocking someone just cause is fully acceptable and expected here.

So, when Ive seen depictions of 'Black' characters that made me go, "Mmm idk man" its been my policy to just block and move on. Less chance of seeing a racist in the tags I like in the future *shrug*

Now on other sites perhaps there is some consideration that could be given to not wanting to boost something racist via interaction...but that's not how Tumblr works. Furthermore your reminder that seeing things go unopposed is the problem hit me like a frying pan to the face. Because...yeah duh.

We know the 'social rules' of this platform, you report/block the porn bots, you dont spam tags for engagement (or report if you see it), add image descriptions, reblog things you like etc. Would it be so hard to leave a simple comment on the things you want to see be changed?

2. "What if I do it wrong/I dont know this fandom/Not my place to speak?" - I firmly believe the main reasons people dont meaningfully engage with posts here or on other platforms is two fold: Responses and Outting.

If you were to post a mild comment saying for example, "Hey, feels kinda weird how you're only talking about this Black character being violent in this show. Why dont you check out this blog post by CBC, a Black artist who really digs into this topic more?"

Now you are expected to 1. 'deal' with whatever that persons response is and 2. Anyone an see and respond to what you said.

I think we generally expect random stranger interactions on the Internet to be unpleasant but, like if we are putting the focus on caring about Black people in out spaces...shits already 'unpleasant' for them.

Its time to start firing fireworks off in our neighborhoods to keep the rents low so to speak. You, non-Black folk (i.e me), dont have to wage endless comment battles with someone who wont listen. Just stating what you are seeing is enough, its marking that post for other people coming along. Forcing the question, "Y'all are we cool with this?"

As for messing up/having a record of things you said someone else might take issue with later on. Yeah but thats already happening whenever you reblog anything.

If you actually spoke out of turn just say, "Im sorry thanks for letting me know" and move on with your life. Otherwise folks on here will actually harass you over your shipping preferences so your rolling those dice already. Why not do it for something better worth it?

3. A Note - Genuinely thank you for posing these thoughtful question and just honestly expressing your frustration/hurt. It helped me think more deeply about some old habits.

Thank you!

Hm. And you're welcome

#creatingblackcharacters #racism #allyship #antiblackness

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roadhogsbigbelly · 11 months ago

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ok i didn't really want to do this because i deleted the original posts when it had only 70 notes because i was under the assumption noone would see it but t/xttletale ended up reblogging it anyway and now i have people telling me to kill myself in my inbox so i guess i might as well give details

honestly did not know she was trans until people accused me of pedojacking her, for some reason it never registered because i guess i only see her blog when her posts pop up on my feed but you know my bad i guess

2)yes it's true the term "loliporn" never shows up but someone does say "don't say you're pro-kink and nasty gay sex if you're not supportive of ageplay, cnc, or incest shipping" and than she said "yes, and" which like. seems slightly like an endorsement? but i assume that loliporn was just kind of included with the package, because i do have evidence that toonimal would not be against that

3) i never directly called her a pedophile just that it's really fucking bizzare to have that hot take about "wholesome games" when you agreed with a take that said not liking incest porn or ageplay is "anti-kink or whatever

now did initially censor the names in the post because of reasons i'll explain later but i did realize with no context it looks like both posts were from the same person so i did end up mentioning in the tags that there were two different people before later deleting it all together. but i honestly don't feel THAT bad attributing it to her because she did both reblog the post and than also add on to it, which kind of negates the possibility she didn't fully read the post? still i did censor it again for reasons i'll explain later.

4) i kind of went out of my way to not attribute anything to her. when i talked about her weird stardew valley take i still censored them, because after being told to kill myself for having a lukewarm hot take on sex work last year i usually always censor posts when criticizng/making fun of them. i'm honestly surprised she managed to find it because i deleted it when it only had like 60 notes, and the only reason i found out she found it is because one of her followers sent be an ask telling me to kill myself. and out of curiousity i checked her blog.

i deleted this post before i post this just so her follower doesn't get harassed or whatever. but you know. not fun.

and 5) while i insist i didn't directly accuse her of being a pedophile i DID in fact accuse the person she was agreeing with of being a pedohpile. cause they are.

i'm not going to post the entire callout post cause it's honestly really fucking gross but tldr they run a "contact positive paraphilia forum" which is a basicly code for "actually fucking pedophiles" which kind of recontextualizes they entire post right? that's also why i went out of my way to censor txttletale's name and than later specify there were two different people before deleting it. because i assumed she didn't know the person she was agreeing with was an actual pedophile, but accidently agreeing with a pedophile is uh. not good. i think, someone actually informed her that toonimals was a pedophilia and she said this.

now i'm not saying you have to do a background check on every person you reblog from but if that post talks about "how pro-sex freak people need to be more supportive of people who are into incest" than actually yeah you do sort of have an obligation to make sure they aren't an actual fucking pedophile. the entire basis of that post is "people should stop being mean to actual sex freaks" and you not only reblog it but add onto that yeah that's a fucking issue because 99 percent of time the people who make those posts ARE actual fucking pedophiles, so yeah you probably should be a bit wary. because like.

this is my issue, i don't think you're a pedophile because you don't think there's anything wrong with fiction/sex acts that depict immoral things, my issue is that that logic is used and agreed upon by actual pedophiles. pedophiles are agreeing with you! that's not great! there's my issue with your logic!

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wangxianficrecs · 1 year ago

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💙 Stunted, Starving Juvenility by TomatenMark

💙 Stunted, Starving Juvenility

by TomatenMark (@tomatenmark5)

E, WIP, 686k, Wangxian

Summary: At sixteen Wei Wuxian is—through some strange twist of fate, or a nick in the layer between parallel universes, who knows—out of the blue confronted with that one incense burner dream one night. While his curious mind is left unable to stop poking at this new perspective on Lan Wangji, circumstances in the Cloud Recesses begin to change and Wei Wuxian is suddenly presented with life-altering opportunities. Maybe Gusu isn’t so bad after all? (Or alternatively: The fic where I get to give Wei Wuxian the academic scholarship he deserves while simultaneously getting him hitched early on.) Kay's comments: Honestly, if you haven't heard of this fic yet, then you've probably lived under a rock this past year, haven't you? It's definitely The Fic™ and has been for a while now and it's already been recommended a few times by followers already, but I need to give it a personal shout-out as well, because I adore this story. It's living rent-free in my brain and despite already having more than 600k words, I re-read it like every other month and never get tired of it. One of the highlights is definitely TomatenMark's incredible attention to detail. Something will get mentioned once in chapter five and ten chapters later it'll suddenly be a major plot point. I also really adore the numerous characters TomatenMark has added to the story, they are all working so beautifully in the story and I find myself caring for them very much! As for the plot, it's basically a Cloud Recesses canon-divergence where WangXian get together and get married during the lectures and it kickstarts a canon-divergence that looks much better than the original timeline while also staying true to the characters and not sugarcoating things. If you haven't already, you should definitely check this story out! Excerpt: “I regard Lan Zhan highly,” he tried to reassure and Lan Xichen interestedly hummed, prompting him to add, “If I ever make him unhappy in some way I’d be the first to beat myself up over it.” Lan Xichen nodded and twinkled at him but Wei Wuxian didn’t dare to relax. “You seem to be quite dedicated,” the other noted. “And Wangji seems to return the sentiment given how he returned without any protection from the storm when I was quite sure I had seen him leave with his coat that afternoon.” “Ah. Er, yeah, Lan Zhan was so kind as to lend it to me when it started to rain,” Wei Wuxian explained, feeling on edge from the other’s roundabout way of hinting at something Wei Wuxian wasn’t sure he was even knowingly hinting at. “However, I have noticed that your neck was quite bruised when you returned, Wei-gongzi,” Lan Xichen went on. Wei Wuxian’s head snapped up from where he had held it politely lowered before. Lan Xichen’s eyes were overflowing with mirth. He definitely knew what he was hinting at!! “I hope you two didn’t get into a fight?” the Lan sect heir innocently mused and Wei Wuxian felt his resolve break. “Zewu-jun, please don’t torture me like this,” he begged.

pov wei wuxian, canon divergence, cloud recesses study arc, sunshot campaign, getting together, falling in love, first time, first kiss, developing relationship, period-typical homophobia, kink exploration, fluff and angst, cultivation sect politics, genius wei wuxian, inventor wei wuxian, marriage, minor character death, scheming nie huaisang, burning of the cloud recesses, wei wuxian has a family, bad parent jiang fengmian, top lan wangji, bottom wei wuxian

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(Please REBLOG as a signal boost for this hard-working author if you like – or think others might like – this story.)

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ashecampos · 9 months ago

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Anyone but her 6

JANIS IMI-IKE X FEM READER

Warnings - swearing, mentions of anxiety. smut (my first time writing smut may I add), ptsd/past relationship trauma, y/n and Janis being idiots.

The POV switches between reader and Janis (I use — when I change the POV)

there will be more parts to this, make sure to reblog and comment and I will get the next few parts up as soon as I can, happy reading lovelies 🫶🏼

🪿🪿🪿🪿🪿🪿🪿🪿🪿🪿🪿🪿

3rd person pov <3

“It’s been two weeks and all we have been able to achieve is getting them to kiss multiple times” Damien looks at Cady and Tessa. The three have been trying and failing to get Janis and y/n together for nearly three weeks, they scheme and plot but nothing seems to stick. “Hey they have plans later, y/n is excited, this might be the night if you catch my drift” Tessa wiggles her eyebrows while nudging the boy. He makes a shocked face, leaning closer to the girl “girl spill, what plans do they have?” He smacks the girls knees repeatedly, desperate for answers. “Well I couldn’t get too much info, buttt, they are having a little ‘movie night at Janis’ house’ and y/n is panicking about what to wear” Tessa smirks knowing her best friend’s little quirks all too well. She pulls out her phone and hands it to Damien, the chat with y/n open with a multitude of messages from the girl panicking. Laughing, Damien starts typing telling y/n that the group will come over after school to help. Cady sits on her phone ignoring the chaos, replying to chats from the plastics. Cady stares at a chat from Regina about how Aaron is annoying her and how she ‘wishes she was just a lesbian’ and how she should just get with a girl and how Aaron would be so jealous of it.

The bell rings, interrupting their conversation, they all stand up from their spots under the old oak tree. Saying their goodbyes, they all go to their last few classes.

———————————————————

This day has been one of the longest to ever exist. And it’s all because of her. I haven’t even told Damien or Cady yet, well that’s because I haven’t seen them yet today, I haven’t seen her today. Maybe she’s avoiding me, I doubt it though. Thankfully I have this class with all of them. One by one they all walk through the doors and get to their seats. Cady is first, followed by Tessa and Damien. My eyes linger on the door a second longer to see her walk through but to my surprise she isn’t here. My eyes shoot to Tessa looking for answers “where is y/n?” I turn to Tessa who is sat next to me. “track meet, did you forget? She told you this yesterday Janis” she looks at me like she could kill me for being so stupid. Shit her track meet. I was going to buy her flowers. Too late now I guess. “Oh yeah sorry” I say looking at my phone seeing a notification from y/n. I smile, grabbing everyone’s attention, Damien looks over my shoulder, him and Tessa making kissing noises, I swat them away before opening it.

The photo shows a few people sat on the grass with a time stamp on it, all of their backpack on the floor, Tessa looks over and speaks before the others can “they must’ve just finished, I wonder if they got to the next stage” she checks her phone and opens her text from y/n

Tessa stretches her arm over to show me what y/n sent to her, a photo of her, showing the ground with a little bit of text saying “home time” cute. I laugh a little. “God she’s cute” I blurt out before thinking against saying it, my hand quickly covers my mouth as a blush creeps its way to my cheeks. All three of them stop what they are doing to look at me. Silence. Damien and Tessa look at each other smirking, Damien opens his mouth to say something but before he can the teacher walks in, thank god for that.

The class goes by unbearably slow, I sit staring at the wall for the better part of the hour, praying what I said wouldn’t be brought up. Tessa and Damien kept sharing knowing looks with shit eating grins. Looking up at the clock I acknowledge that there is only 15 minutes left. I quickly go back to staring at the wall. That is until my thoughts are interrupted by my phone buzzing in my pocket. I grab my phone and open the notification seeing it’s y/n again. I open the chat and smile a little “hey pretty girl, can’t wait for tonight” I save the chat and reply “can’t wait, dress comfy” I turn my phone off and wait for class to end, my mind drifting back to her.

Once class ends, we all leave and stand outside of the school, Cady waiting for Regina to pick her up, me and Damien waiting on a bus, Tessa waiting for. I actually don’t know what she’s waiting for, normally y/n drives her. As if on que a bus pulls up, not mine and Damien’s but the school bus. And out comes the track and field team. Oh that’s why we were waiting here. Out walks y/n after everyone else. She says her goodbyes and congratulations to her team mates before jogging over. Time freezes in the time it takes for her to run over. She is clad in grey Nike shorts and an oversized hoodie, the schools logo on the front reading ‘north shore lions’ I smile a little at her before snapping myself out of my daydream. She jumps into my arms, wrapping her legs around my waist, a massive smile on her face. I pull her away a little to look at her properly “hey pretty lady” I say placing my hands around the back of her thighs to keep her up and as close to me as possible. She smiles down at me “we won” she says before hugging me closer “we won” she repeats as if to convince herself that this is real.

I put her down much to my dismay, and we all walk to the bus stop so we can all catch the bus. Tessa pouts at the fact y/n didn’t bring her car because she was busy being sporty instead of being at school. Y/n just laughs at her, reminding her that she does the same when it comes to rugby, which shuts the other girl up. We all continue our conversation on the bus, we reach my stop quickly and I decide to be bold, just as I stand up, the bus stops and I lean down, kissing y/n on the cheek before saying “see you later” and getting off of the bus quicker than ever. Behind me I hear Damien and Tessa whisper shouting at the girl for freezing up. I get in the house, saying hi to my dad and running to my room.

———

As soon as Janis gets off of the bus I let myself breathe. Tessa and Damien shouting at me for freezing up. It feels like my whole body deflates. I allow my shoulders to drop, my leg bopping up and down. But before they can notice it I place my backpack over my legs and look at them with a smile. “What the fuck am I meant to wear?” I say my voice raising a little, they both laugh before saying “girly” at the same time. I look at the both of them in disgust, making us all burst out in laughter. Tessa hits the button to let the driver know the next stop is ours, we all grab our bags and stand up, heading to the front of the bus. Once off we walk towards my house. Opening the door we are hit with the scent of brownies. My mom must be home. We enter the kitchen, my mom dancing in her apron, once she sees us her face lights up, she lets out a little shriek, coming over and hugging all of us one by one. We introduce Damien and she welcomes him with open arms. We talk and eat the brownies for around half an hour before she tells us to shoo. We run upstairs and throw our bags to the floor. I run and jump onto my bed “oh how I have missed you” I say dramatically making the other two laugh, they come over and sit down with me. Tessa looks over to me “go shower we will pick you a few outfits for tonight” she nudges my leg. I groan while getting myself up, I grab a towel from my closet and walk towards the door. “Please nothing too girly, my body can’t handle it” I say, Tessa grabs a pillow and reads herself to throw it. I quickly make my escape, shutting the door behind me.

—-

“Tessa she is not and I repeat NOT leaving this house in that” Damien points at a skirt and crop top combo that is more Tessa’s style than her friends “one she will quite literally freeze to death and two she would not be comfortable in that” he finishes before laying whag he’s picked on the bed. A Joan jett T-shirt with some black baggy jeans. Okay this is totally Y/N’s style but nooo, she’s having a date at Janis’ house for Christ sake” Tessa argues back and forth with the boy. “Okay how about we both grab a pair of pants and shirt then try style them together yeah?” He says, putting back the other clothes back where they found them.

Damien picks up a grey Chicago hoodie and a pair of plaid joggers. While Tessa picks a pair of green acid wash cargo pants and a cropped vest. They both look at what they have and Tessa snatches the hoodie, pointing at the boy “put the pants away this is perfect” she nearly screams as she places the outfit down “mh grab a pair of her airforces” she demands, the boy obliges grabbing some white ones to match the hoodie and vest, he brings them over placing them on the floor. They both stand there staring at the outfit they both picked before turning to eachother and high-fiving. Just then y/n walks in “aww look at you two, you didn’t murder eachother over an outfit” she says laughing, a towel wrapped around her body, her hair in a messy bun. “You’ll never guess who just walked in on me naked” y/n says looking embarrassed “what wait who” both Damien and Tessa say at the same time. “Regina, she came into the bathroom thinking Aaron was in the shower, she like just stood there staring at me before I shouted at her to leave” she says laughing “that’s messed up” Tessa says cringing at what her best friend had to go through.

——-

I have checked my phone at least twenty times in the past five minutes, Damien nor y/n has texted me. Which is weird. What’s even weirder is that Tessa has texted me. I open the message and see that she’s asking about what I have planned for the date, I reply telling her what my plan is and how I want to ask y/n to be my girlfriend, she takes a few seconds to reply, but eventually sends me a thumbs up emoji which I’ll take as a sign to be ahead with the plan.

Not even a minute later someone is knocking on the door, I run downstairs nearly tripping over air on the way, I open the door and look up to see her stood in my doorway, clad in cargos and a hoodie, she has a little eyeliner on, nothing else. I smile which makes her smile wider, taking the opportunity I grab her by the collar of her hoodie and pull her in for a hug. “Hey chica bonita” she says in a whisper, giving me major butterflies. I think for a second about what she even said before pulling away from the hug and slapping her shoulder playfully “hey Nuh huh no Spanish, you know im bad at it, what did you even say?” I blush a little which she laughs even harder at. She grabs my hand and I lead the way to the basement where I have laid out an impromptu cinema room, I have moved the sofas to make a makeshift bed with multiple pillows and blankets on it. She looks over, her eyes glistening, she’s smiling again, god I love to make her smile, it has to be one of the prettiest things in this universe.

——

How did she even know I love movies. Oh wait Tessa, goddamit tessa. I look at the basement that has been converted into a cinema room, led lights brighten the room in a red haze, a projector screens Netflix on the wall, the couches are pushed together to make a bed, blankets and pillows thrown all over the makeshift bed. I look back at Janis and smile before tackling her to the couch in a hug “omg this is soo pretty j” I shriek. She holds onto my waist and makes sure I land on top of her so she takes the blunt of the fall, I look down at her and she is already staring at me, a smirk plastered on her face. We both slowly inch closer until we are inches away, she makes the first move, lifting up a little so we are kissing, kissing turns into making out, I don’t know about her but I could do this forever. That is until we both run out of air and have to pull away. Breathing heavily and faces red we both stare at each-other. We are both pulled out of our trances when her phone starts ringing, both of us groan before looking over at her phone, we see that it’s Cady so I get off of her and we both sit cuddled into each other as she answers the FaceTime. “Hi Kaddy” she says, her husky voice rings through the room and it’s all I can focus on. I lay my head on her chest as she talks to Cady, she plays with my hair until Cady says “wait are you with y/n right now?” I look up at her and roll my eyes, tonight is all we have been talking about to her this week. “Yeah wanna say hi?” Janis asks her, Cady must’ve said yes because the phone was then lowered so Cady could see my face. “Hey caids” I say smiling, the girl waves, saying hi, she takes a few seconds looking at her phone with a puzzled expression before blurting out “oh my god im totally ruining you guys’ date night aren’t I?” She covers her mouth “I meant movie night frick” she continues to stumble her words, I look up at Janis and laugh, she smiles at me and grabs the phone “yes Kaddy you are in fact disturbing our very important date night” Janis says sarcastically “wait omg you guys are finally da-“ Cady starts to talk but is interrupted by Janis “right we are gonna go now bye” she hangs up abruptly, blushing intensely because of what Cady nearly said before she interrupted. I draw stars onto her band T-shirt with my index finger as we sit in silence for what seems like forever until she randomly blurts out. “Teach me how to dance?” I look up at her with a puzzled expression before laughing. “Sorry, Tessa told me you are a really good dancer and I just thought it would be cool to learn, y’know in preparation for the spring fling dance” she rambles on and on about why she randomly asked to dance. I roll my eyes and stand up, she whines a little until I grab her hands and pull her up with me. “How do I work your very weird projector?” I lean against the sofa a little as she hands me a remote, I quickly open Spotify and play the first song that comes up. Which happened to be ‘Looking at me’ Sabrina Carpenter, I look back to her with a confused face and laugh “how very gay of you” I wheeze out making her step closer to me, trapping me between the sofa and her body. She grabs my waist and stares at me “teach me” she replies. I blush and take her being smaller as a chance to take control, moving so we are both stood in the middle of the room. I place her hands on my waist, moving mine so they are laid over her shoulders. “okay follow the beat” I say while swaying my hips to the rhythm. She tries to mimic my actions but fails, a groan escapes her lips and she places her head in the crook of my neck, admitting defeat. “I have two left feet” she mumbles. I allow myself a second to think before tapping my hands on her shoulders “turn around” I say while spinning her so her back is against my front “this okay?” I ask before putting my hands on her waist, she nods so I continue, I make her hips move with the beat, singing along with the song.

——

⚠️ SMUT WARNING ⚠️

(THIS IS YOUR FINAL WARNING, I will put another one when it’s done so just skip until you see this emoji 😇)

——-

She places her small hands on my hips and starts moving them along with the beat of the song, not long after we are dancing, she is singing, never would I have thought dancing to a pop song would actually be fun until now. I turn on her arms and wrap my arms around her waist, pulling her closer, I look down at her lips for a brief moment, forgetting whatever we were doing. “Hey look your dancing” she says earning a smirk from me. I walk us back over to the sofa bed, pushing her down onto it, I follow after her, landing on top this time, the remote ends up falling off of the bed, turning the projector off, leaving the room a dark red colour. I look back down to stare at her, she’s looking at my lips, so I take the opportunity to kiss her again. She leans into the kiss, smiling into it before pulling away, using her teeth the drag my bottom lip with her. Oh my god I can’t with this girl. I open my eyes and clutch onto her hoodie “this off now” I say lowly. I lift her up so we are both sat looking at each other, she happily obliges and throws the hoodie off along with the vest under it, leaving her in a bra and her jeans. I let out a puff of air I didn’t know I was holding in. I have seen her in bikinis, sports bras but it always manages to take my breath away. Every goddam time.

I push her back down, my hands finding their way to her waist again, gripping onto her tighter than ever. I trail my hands up and down her torso, biting my lip before making eye contact with her. “This okay?” I ask wanting to make sure whag was about to happen is consensual and that the feelings I have aren’t just one sided. She nods slowly, a blush creeping onto her cheeks again. I make quick work of unclasping her bra before taking a second to saviour this moment. I then start aggressively kissing her with purpose, with one hand I play with the belt loop of her jeans, the other I slowly slide up until I am gently playing with her breast, I stroke my thumb over her hardened nipple earning a moan from her, I take this as a sign to go further, I trail wet kisses down from her lips to her jawline, then to her neck, I suck on parts of her neck, leaving multiple marks all over her, I quickly move to her collar bone leaving more until I am face to face with the waistline of her jeans, I look up again asking for permission before going ahead and throwing them to the floor with the rest of her clothes, her underwear then follows quickly being forgotten about.

——-

All of my clothes are long gone and on the floor, I am naked in my longtime crush’s basement.

She grips onto my thigh while her fingers. Her magical fingers are dipping in and out of my vagina at an ungodly rate, my breath shortens, my moans getting louder “j-Janis please im so close..fuck”I breathe out, my knuckles turning white with how hard I am gripping into the soft blanket on the sofa. She starts to use her tongue to circle my clit, drawing me closer to my climax, I try to clench my thighs together but she is quicker than me and pushes them apart again, she moves her face a little “cum for me pretty girl” she mumbles against my clit, the vibrations sending me over the edge.

….

😇SMUT OVER😇

….

She comes back up, kissing me while picking me up, thank god for there being a bathroom in the basement because if not mine and her relationship would be very obvious to her family. She carries me to the bathroom and sits me on the counter. Grabbing a damp towel and cleaning me up. She gives me a few more pecks before we go back to the sofa, she wraps me in a blanket and kisses my forehead. “Wait here yeah?” She says while running up the basement stairs and going somewhere else.

I rest my head one of the many pillows, getting comfortable. My eyes start to close, until I see her stood in front of me. I smile widely, she is holding a pair of dark green plaid pyjama bottoms and a smashing pumpkins band tee. I try to keep my eyes open as she gently gets me dressed into her clothes. That’s when I realise she is also in comfy clothes, I smile and wrap my arms around her. We end up wrapped in blankets and falling asleep with not a care in the world for anyone else but the two of us.

Heyyyyy lovers, if this part does not scream ‘A SINGLE LESBIAN WROTE THIS’ then I don’t know what does. I hope you enjoyed this, not too much obviously jk jk, see you in the next chapter😙

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