#none of this is normal none of this is normal

[lymtw]

Comfort The Tired Soul

Toji comes home from work feeling a whirlwind of different things. He's starving, he's exhausted, he wants to bury his face between your thighs, but he also just wants to lay his head on your lap and have you play with his hair. His body is basically running on autopilot, holding off on giving out until he sees you.

He unlocks and opens the front door, hoping to smell something amazing. Something warm and made by none other than you and your precious hands. Instead, he enters a house that looks like his home, but lacks what truly makes it deserving of the title—you. You aren't there on the couch, ready to jump on him like you normally do. The house smells clean, the couch cushions are properly positioned, like you haven't laid there, at all. The TV is off, the shower isn't running, there's no music blasting from your phone—it's dead silent.

Toji keeps walking, keeps searching for you around the house, the occasional 'doll' and 'ma' being called out. He still peeks into the bathroom, despite the light being off, and rules it out when he sees there's no sign of you. The next room he directs himself towards is the bedroom. The light is off and the door is closed, so he isn't expecting anything from this room, either, but he checks, anyway.

Lo and behold, there you are, sitting on the bed, cross legged. The only light that illuminates your tear stained face and your nervous habit of biting your nails in action, is the screen of your phone.

"Hey, doll," Toji says, his voice calm and steady, so as not to scare you. His hand holds the doorknob and he keeps the door pressed to his shoulder, as he watches you quickly try to get yourself together. You stop biting your nails and you wipe at your face with the sleeves of your hoodie.

"Oh, hey, baby," you say, with enthusiasm that Toji knows you're working too hard to provide. "Sorry, I didn't know you'd be home so early. I didn't make anything for you to eat."

Toji instantly notices that your voice doesn't sound like it usually does. It sounds like you're trying hard to keep your emotions down, but there's an annoying lump in your throat that doesn't allow you to hold yourself up very well. You're also still pawing at your face with your sleeves, like your tears haven't subsided.

"It's six, ma. You know I always get home around this time. What are you doing in here with the lights off?" He flicks on the light to get a better look at you and your shrunken demeanor. Immediately, he notices the way you squint and furrow your eyebrows—a normal reaction to brightness after being in the dark. What wasn't normal, was the way you rubbed the space between your brows, like the sudden brightness of the room was affecting you more than it should have and you were trying to soothe the pained area.

"Nothing," you simply say, laughing, nervously. It's a sound with no detectable joy in it, and Toji knows very well that it's fake. You can't trick him into believing that you're alright, with it.

By instinct, Toji has gone into his protective mode. He steps further into the room, with newfound energy, and heads for the spot in front of you. The room is quiet, like the rest of the house, until he sits down. He tugs on the sleeve of your sweater, a silent way of signaling that he's there, but also a request for you to spare him your attention. You look up, facing him, and he sees it all. The slight puffiness and redness of your eyes, the wetness of your eyelashes. Something is tearing you up inside.

"Tell me everything," Toji says, setting a hand on your knee. Instantly, you blink and avert your gaze from him.

"Nooo," you whine, in an attempt to lighten up the mood a little. You didn't intend for your voice to crack and make his view of you more pitiful. "You're tired. You don't need this, right now."

The feeling Toji gets from seeing you this way, is like thousands of little needles jabbing at his heart. Your eyes are growing glossier by the second and you keep pressing your lips together, presumably to stifle the quivering of your lips.

"Sweetheart," Toji says, calmly. His voice carries love, patience, and understanding—all things that easily break down your facade and cause tears to begin freely streaming down your cheeks. Once again, words are lost between you and Toji, and silence nears, only kept away by the sound of your sniffling and soft, shuddered deep breaths. He takes your hand in both of his and brushes over your knuckles with his thumbs.

"I love you, mama. We have so much time," Toji, wholeheartedly, assures. His patience makes it hard for you to hold in your sobs—your chest and your throat hurt from not letting go of them. He sits there with you as your emotions pour out, playing with your hands and waiting for you to calm down enough to talk.

"I don't feel good, Toji," you finally manage to say, slowly shaking your head. You can't lift your gaze to meet his, again, even if you can feel him calling for your attention through the gentle squeezes he gives your hands. You feel vulnerable and you get this strange feeling in your stomach every time you think about how Toji is seeing you completely stripped of any strength to hold yourself together. You can't look at him, despite how attentive he's being. You don't want him to look at you, either, but you won't tell him to stop or push him away. You know it would be heartless of you.

"What hurts? Want me to get you some medicine?"

"No, no. I just..." you sigh, heavily. A fresh stream of tears roll down your cheeks when you shut your eyes. "I've had a massive headache all day and my chest hurts. It feels so heavy, like something is pushing down on it."

"You didn't tell me this earlier, when we were talking on the phone. You sounded just fine." His hands still, no longer squeezing your hands or gently brushing your skin. "Why didn't you tell me? I would have come home sooner, doll."

"That's why I didn't tell you. There's no need for me to share my stress with you while you're working. You have your own things to stress about, too. I'm not going to be another one of those things."

"Hey, come on, stop," he says, squeezing your hands, again, to signal that he isn't mad at you. You don't need more guilt mixing in with the rest of your feelings.

"I get home from work before you. I have time to wind down and... and clean up. The least I can do..." Your chest heaves, your harsher emotions catching up, again. "...is cook you a damn meal."

"My love, stop."

The room goes quiet again, nothing but the sound of your sharp, short inhales and sniffling. He got you to settle down with the remarks, but he wants to calm down your mind, as well. He gently wraps his hands around your shaky ones and brings them up to his lips. Soft kisses are planted on your fingers, your knuckles, and your palms—you feel his perfect scar, occasionally, brushing against your skin. After he sets your hands down on your lap and releases them, he moves up to his side of the bed and positions himself so that his back rests against the headboard. He calls for you, with a couple pats to the space he left for you between his legs and a warm, "Sit, doll."

You stay unmoving for a few seconds—indecisive. He just got home. You don't want to continue to drop all of this on him, but you can feel him watching you, and the more you feel his gaze on your back, the more you start to think about the time that is going to waste because you won't go to him. It's time that he can be using to rest—so, you make up your mind and crawl over to him.

Once your back is to his front, he molds around you. His arms envelop you, tightly, to ensure that you feel his warmth and understand that he physically has you, just as he does emotionally. He rests his chin on your shoulder, and turns his head to murmur a soft, "You listening?" You nod a couple times, while wiping your cheeks with the dampened sleeves of your sweater. "Okay." He tightens his arms around you a little more and places a gentle kiss on your neck, before facing forward, again.

"Ma," Toji starts, a soft sigh leaving him. He's really hoping that by the end of this talk, you won't be trembling in his arms, anymore. "You can't hide this type of stuff from me." The words don't come off as him scolding you or trying to be controlling. Instead, they sound more like a plead. A plead for you to trust him with your mental health the way you trust him with your physical safety, and for you to follow the rules of communication you've done so well at teaching him about.

"You just told me that you don't feel good. You're so stressed that your head hurts and your chest feels tight. Is that why you were in here with the light off?" Toji asks, tilting his head to look at you. You respond with a weak nod, not willing to use your even more weakened voice. "See? It's hurting you, baby. It's making things hard for you. There's no need for you to hold things in when you have me. Me being at work doesn't change a thing. When we're on the phone, I want you to tell me everything. Everything. Not just the good stuff."

He pauses, a brief intermission that gives you a chance to sit with everything he has said so far. He refrains from asking you questions, for now. Clearly, you aren't emotionally stable enough to explain everything going through your head, and it's likely you'll break down again before he even begins to grasp what has you in the condition of a wilted flower.

"You can tell me about anything. Know I'll do everything I can to help or make you feel better, because this? This isn't right, ma. You're my little sunshine. I can't have you dimming on me."

He notices you aren't shaking as much and you haven't been running your sleeves over your cheeks, anymore, so he squishes you in his arms and smiles softly when you release a puff of air—a stifled groan.

"And just so you know, I'm okay with you not making dinner every day," he says, planting a kiss on your jaw. "Don't get me wrong, I love when you cook for me, but I don't expect you to do it. I can make or get myself something to eat if you don't feel like cooking, alright? Don't ever stress about that, ma."

It goes quiet for a minute or so, just you and Toji sitting in the intimate, guarded atmosphere created between you and him. You feel the pressure of his heavy arms around you, you feel the body heat that emanates from him, you can smell the aftermath of a busy day on him, and though your eyes feel heavy and swollen from the waterfalls of tears you've shed, feeling this safe makes you want to cry all over again. He covered you up and kept you warm when he found you trapped in a mental rainstorm. He soothed your aching soul. He deserves the remainder of your tears—two final liquefied crystals, gliding down your cheeks. They make up the words you can't say in the moment. 'Thank you.'

"You're the last thing in the world that could ever stress me out. Understand?" Toji asks, breaking the silence. He receives a slow, barely noticeable nod, from you. "You promise?" He asks, seeking certainty in your response. Immediately after, he hums in thought, considering the recurrence of your inaudible responses, and decides to find a way around your simple head nods. "You probably don't wanna talk, right now, so just squeeze my hand. Let me know, mama."

He puts his hand out and waits for a physical confirmation from you—your hand around his, offering even the smallest amount of pressure. As soon as he sees you lift your hand, aiming to place it on his, he's rolling the puffy sleeve of your sweater up, so that he'll be making direct skin to skin contact, rather than having the thick fabric acting as a barrier between your hands. Your fingers interlace with his and you give him three squeezes, before relaxing your hold.

"Yeah? You love me?" Toji asks, a soft smile curling onto his lips. You squeeze his hand once, emphasizing your response with a familiar, subtle nod. "Love you, too, doll. Gonna take care of you, I swear."

You release his hand and wiggle out of his arms, turning around, afterwards. You keep your eyes shut, knowing that the puffiness must look even more extreme when your eyes are open, and just fall into him. He's safety, he's home, love, and everything more.

"Your pretty eyes got a raw deal, huh?" His hands go to your back and rub up and down the expanse in slow, soothing motions. You nod against his chest and tighten your arms around him. "It's okay. You're still the prettiest thing," he assures, pressing a couple kisses to the top of your head. "Wanna take a shower with me? Get some food after?"

"Mhm," you hum, a quiet affirmation. Still, you don't make any attempt to move from your position. Toji notices this and pins the delay on himself. He steals your role and makes it seem like he's the one that doesn't want to move.

"Alright, just..." He sighs, reciprocating your embrace. "Just give me a couple minutes. Wanna stay like this a little longer."

[jo-speaks]

CROSSING PATHS

— right place, right time AU

summary: quinn meets an unlikely friend, and its owner.

warnings: none! wc: 1.6k

note: hope you guys enjoy this and the concept of this au :)

The captain was feeling incredibly overwhelmed- trying to find out why his team just couldn’t pull through in the end, no matter the amount of work and effort they put in at practice. It took a toll on him the hardest, his confidence going down the drain with every sound of the buzzer that announced their loss to the whole arena. 

While others would congratulate him regardless, giving him the whole, “You’re doing great.” spiel, he- for one- didn’t believe it, and two, he didn’t care for great. He wanted perfection. 

“Hun, get out of your apartment, forget about hockey for a minute.” His mother said over the phone after he had called her after a particularly tough OT loss, “It might clear your head a bit.”

Quinn groaned, his mother saying the impossible, “I don’t need a walk, Ma. We just need to win.”

Ellen’s laughter echoed throughout the apartment, “Q, you’ve got to unwind. I’m scared you’re going to blow up that head of yours.”

On some level, Quinn knew she was right. I mean, it was visibly obvious when his mind was running a million miles per hour. He hesitated before saying, “Fine. But if all I get from this is frostbite, you’re taking care of me.” 

“When am I not?”

Quinn let out a lighthearted laugh, saying his goodbyes before going to put his sneakers on and grab a warmer hoodie than the one he had on. He looked at himself in the mirror when he passed it in his hall, his hair disheveled and the exhaustion becoming more and more prominent every day. 

As he grabbed his door keys to walk out of the apartment, he briefly debated grabbing his hockey bag that sat next to his doorway and going to the rink instead. He quickly talked himself out of that idea, ultimately deciding that it would be counterintuitive to forget about hockey for a bit, whilst playing hockey.

~~~

Quinn made his way to the park nearby, settling on just walking wherever his feet took him instead of following an instructed trail. It was chilly, the Vancouver air surprisingly warmer than it had been in previous winters, but still cold enough to send a sharp shiver through his body. 

His eyes wandered as he let his senses become filled with the sounds of nature and the conversations of people passing by. Everyone looked so relaxed and carefree, giving Quinn a sliver of hope that he, too, would feel that way after a few hours here. 

He had become so entranced by his surroundings that his brain barely registered a voice quickly approaching that yelled, ��Watch out!”

Quinn turned around, a sudden pressure coming down onto his lower stomach as a medium-sized golden retriever jumped on him with enough force to have him stumbling a bit, but not enough to knock him down completely. The animal’s tail wagged rapidly, its panting breaths reaching Quinn’s nose as it looked up at him. 

“Hey, bud.” Quinn cooed, petting its head, making the dog even more excited. 

You came up to him, leash around your waist as you panted, catching your breath before speaking up, “I am so sorry, she doesn’t normally do this.” He looked up, his jaw dropping slightly as he took you in. He noticed your hair had fallen out of your updo, now messily draped across your shoulders and back, your mascara running the slightest bit under your eyes due to sweat, but still keeping your lashes up and curled. But most of all, he noticed that gleam in your eyes that was a mix of joy and relaxation. 

The dog had now put her paws down fully on the concrete, beginning to circle around Quinn’s legs and even trying to go in between them before a snap of your fingers brought her back to those simple circles. 

“It’s okay,” Quinn muttered, trying to keep his composure as his heart thrummed rapidly in his chest. “Cute dog.” 

“Thank you.” You smiled, noticing her tail not slowing down in the slightest in his presence. “She seems to really like you, she’s not normally like this with strangers.”

Your words seemed to relax him a little bit, a grin appearing on his face as he squatted down, putting himself on level with the pup and rubbing her head, “What’s her name?” 

“Chilli.” You answered. 

Quinn gave you a look of confusion, “I was actually talking to her."

It took you a minute to realize what he had meant, but when it clicked, you let out a bubbly laugh that had Quinn’s head reeling, “Smooth. I’m Y/N.”

He gave Chilli one last pat before standing up, sticking his hand out like you were some lady in the office, “Quinn.” 

You shook his hand, laughing quietly at the formality before meeting his gaze fully this time, your brain registering his admirable features, which were all of them. 

The curve of his nose, his long lashes, and those eyes that reflected a look of relief. You caught yourself staring a little longer than you intended to, clearing your throat with a smile before looking down at Chilli. You hooked the link of the leash to her harness, ensuring she wouldn’t try this stunt again with another person. 

“Well, Quinn, if you’re not too busy, would you like to join us on the rest of our walk?” You proposed, growing enough courage to ask.

Quinn was sure his heart exploded. 

“Yeah. I’d like that.” He said as smoothly as possible.

The toothy smile that appeared on your face after he agreed had a matching one on his face immediately after. The two of you started walking, letting Chilli lead the way as she walked ahead of you, sniffing the ground as she went.

It was a comfortable silence that fell between you and Quinn, but he wanted to know more about the mystery girl and her dog that walked beside him.

“So,” He began, “Why the harness instead of a collar?”

You turned your head to face him, “I’m not a fan of collars. I know I wouldn’t like it if someone was tugging at my neck. Plus, this gives me a little more control of her without having to pull at her.” Quinn hummed, “Do you work with animals?”

“When I have time, I volunteer with this local animal shelter a few minutes from here.” Your words registered in his mind, the conversation flowing smoothly. Before he could ask you something else, you chimed in first. “What about you? What do you do?”

He hesitated. He knew he couldn’t just say, “I’m actually a professional hockey player.” Unfortunately for him, he did say it out loud instead of keeping it in his head like he had intended. 

When he caught the words spewing out of him before he could stop them, he braced himself, ready for you to grill him about his career, and income, or even pull out your phone to google him to find out yourself. So what you said next shocked him a little bit. 

“Oh, that’s fun. Do you like it?” You asked calmly, keeping your gaze straight ahead.

He let out a breath of relief, “Uh, yeah. I mean, not a whole lot right now.” You tilted your head, facing him again, “What’s that mean?”

“My team’s in a bit of a slump right now and we can’t seem to win anything.” He explained vaguely, not wanting to let himself fall into a deep conversation about hockey with someone he just met.

Luckily for him, you didn’t press. You simply hummed and switched topics that had more to do with him rather than his job. 

The two of you walked and talked about anything and everything, and by the time you returned back to where you had started, Quinn felt as if he’d known you for ten years instead of just two hours. 

And by the end of it, he wasn’t thinking about hockey at all.

“Thanks for joining us, Quinn.” You announced.

Quinn smiled, “Thanks for asking. I really needed that.” 

You stood there a bit awkwardly as Chilli licked at his shoes, her way of saying goodbye before you verbalized it and said, “I’ll see you around.” turning to walk away from him and back to your apartment.

Before you could, Quinn stopped you, walking to your side again so you would stop and face him. He stared at you for a minute before snapping himself out of his daze, pulling out his phone, and asking, “Do you think I could get your number? Maybe we could do this again sometime.”

His pupils nearly shaped hearts when you flashed him another smile, a small giggle coming from your throat as you took his unlocked phone from his hands and typed in your number and name into it. 

“Thanks.” He cheesed, “I’ll text you.” 

You bit your lip innocently, “Can’t wait.’”

He bid you goodbye, relishing in the way you turned around to look at him when you were a good distance away. He smiled to himself before making his way back to the apartment. On his way, he went to his call logs and facetimed his mom yet again. 

“You okay?” She picked up with a look of confusion on her face.

Quinn nodded, the smile on his face indescribably giddy, “Thank you for making me come out here.” 

“You look a lot better now, what happened?” She teased, but there was a hint of relief in her voice as he looked… lighter. 

“I met someone.”

[emacrow]

Siren song of Space by emacrow/the og prompt creator

The assignment has gone all type of wrong for the justice league.

They were investigating a mass sudden disappears of a town called Amity Park after finding out a neglectful person(*cough cough* flash*cough*) thought they were prank calling about ghosts and some group called GIW until John Constantine heard one of the voicemails.

The area where Amity Park was now a Mass ocean that looked like galaxy was dipped into it even if it was daytime and fog covered the greenish tint sky inside the Barrier.

This was deep world ending shit, but unfortunately, none of the adults could even enter at all nor high tech ships not even John constantine could pass through, but old wooden ships with food supples can easily slipped through, along with the except J'onn.

Who tried float a foot deeper in without gripping his head from the pure mass empathetic overload and pushed back out by an unknown force, going through an internal shock until one curious Robin tried stepping a foot in and successfully went through, stepping on the ship easily.

Seeing that only kids and teenagers could go leads to mass arguments between the Justice league until John cut in that the abnormal sea space dome is expanding, sucking in more ground until the very earth itself is swallowed whole.

Grumbly, internally, Batman called in the young justice league, teen titans, and a few robins to find what had happened and come back in 1 hour.

Now, the entire young justice league, main teen titans, and robins were on a wooden ship sail into the space like sea.

Cyborg and blue beetle had to stay behind due to being mostly technology along with miss Martian who might also had the dame reaction as J'onn earlier as Red Robins pulled the sail with a compass, Starfire, Raven, Super girl, Super boy and Tranformed eagle Beastboy flies around as the scout.

Aqualad couldn't get in the water the moment he tried to stick his head only to immediately pull away gasping for air. This water was too dense yet suffocating like space itself submerged in it.

Kid flash helps around with arrangements, tying up knots and untying when the wind blown hard with the help of bat girl, robin, and Artemis

The only sound they could hear was the sea roaring, the ship creaking with each wave they sail over, and an odd electric sound buzzing around, as the ominous greenish fog seemed to roll in.

Starfire, Super Boy, Super girl, Raven, and Beastboy flies back onto the ship the moment their vision was blurring by the Fogs. Super boy and girl couldn't detect any other elses' heartbeats others than their group, and that alone sent chills of what could have happened to the Amity Park residents.

The sense of danger was shivering up everyone's backs as they could hear a voice, low and quiet, that began to grow louder.

Beautiful like yet haunting young male voice that nearly pulled their attention towards as Raven yelled at them to cover their ears with ears plugs from one of the wooden boxes now.

Something massive white was swimming in the star filled sea near their ship.

There couldn't be anything alive in this sea, but their eyes couldn't betray what they have saw.

It was humanoid, with multiple arms with webbed fingers with white massive hair longer then foot ball station, a large slender body that had thousands upon thousands of green spots and hundreds scars too neat and professional align to be normal cut and a very long tail with shredded fins.

Super boy and Girl eyes widen seeing that the green spot weren't for show as they were bubbles with people sleeping, encased, young and old, most of them were green colored or off color humaniod while the rest were living human people asleep.

They all kept their ears shut with the ear plugs, But super boy and Girl could still hear the most beautiful yet haunting voice that sound like a Siren enchanting his neck victim.

Red Robin could see Super boy swaying in a dazed like state while Super girl looking enchanted nearly floating, motion the others to help tied the two to the pole with lightly laced Kyptonite rope to stop them from going over board toward the Entity.

Raven could see that this was likely the Entity that trapped the Residents of Amity parks, but the questions remains as how it got here and why this space dome was here.

Bat girl was signing that this creature seemed desperate, hurt, confused, traumatized, hopelessly scared, yet dazed in some typed of trance like over protective like state.

[luvmanifesting]

PERMASHIFTING SOON

haiiiii :3 okay so guys im scripting out this new world i’m creating, like a whole different planet entirely. ill be taking everything i’ve manifested here and bring it over to my new world im creating let me give you all a bit of fun facts about my planet/world im creating and some other stuff!

everyone who lives on that planet is automatically considered immortal

“human” race does not exist we can still obviously have human bodies but instead of “race” people will be categorized by rank in civilization (i have to figure out what our species would be called)

7 continents will exist

war will absolutely never exist

languages will be completely different the only language i might bring over is japanese which is my native language

before meeting anyone in that planet you will get a 10 second little mini-movie” of how a person acts and the experiences you will make with them

every choice you make will affect your life (butterfly affect) and you’ll know because everyone on the planet is given a little cute watch that monitors their decisions and warns them of the consequences it’ll have

this planet is absolutely and forever healthy, animals will never go extinct (im not bringing back the dinosaurs or whatever lol. maybeee idk)

everyone in this planet experiences has very strict morals they follow (crime doesn’t exist here)

wealth doesn’t exist and currency doesn’t exist (no, nobody steals everyone here shops normally and peacefully)

social media does not exist here (because there will always be something amazing and fun to do in this world, and people love creating memories with people in this world on polaroids instead of phones)

romance is genuine romance here none of that corny/harsh stuff people here know how to love

mermaids exist (friendly ones only), unicorns exist, Atlantis exists, cute fairies exist (but they only exist on a special continent and everyone respects the continent)

history in this world is completely different and rewritten

schools are immune to stressing anyone out and are always fun and the students here love coming to school

this planet is located in a different universe and different timeline

every continent respects each other (no racism here)

both genders are treated equally

religion does not exist (don’t come for me)

yeah lol this is just a slightly small but big preview after i finish this lol im perm shifting, so i won’t have any memory of this account!! i’ll miss you guys though 🤍

[ask-mirage-mews]

[Reply to @omniandco ]

Janus: “Fuji, the one you met, is…Honestly I see a lot of myself in him, which is surprising considering our relationship started off poorly and how absent I have been from his life. He is still as stubborn as he was upon our first meeting but has grown to have such a kind heart over the years. Then there is Bellatrix, who is essentially his daughter. Very independent for her young age, yet within reason. Both wonderful in their own right but…None of how I feel is any fault of theirs, yet I see them and experience an intense feeling of regret…”

Janus: “It is…certainly Odd. Are these things family normally make you contemplate?”

[darlinluxx]

𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐑 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 | 𝐊𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐀𝐄 𝐁𝐘𝐄𝐎𝐊 ౨ৎ

pairing : kang sae byeok x fem!reader

fluff

warnings : none

summary : you and your girlfriend decide to take a late night walk in the summertime

a/n : missing summer :( also in this she won the games cause why not

if you have any requests, feel free to message me <3

𝐓he city hummed with a low, thrumming energy, even at the late hour. the air, thick and heavy with summer’s humid breath, wrapped around Saebyeok and you like a warm blanket. streetlights cast pools of amber light, painting long, distorted shadows that danced with your footsteps.

Saebyeok, usually so cold and stoic, felt a strange sense of relaxation seep into her bones. the familiar tension in her shoulders eased a fraction, replaced by the quiet comfort of your presence by her side. she glanced over at you, her heart doing a small, unexpected flip.

You, with your soft, expressive features and a cascade of hair that framed your face, was the antithesis of everything Saebyeok was. where Saebyeok was sharp edges and guarded glances, you were gentle curves and an open heart. you wore a flowing, floral dress that seemed to catch every stray breeze, making you look like you’d stepped out of a summer painting. the contrast, Saebyeok mused, was both jarring and utterly perfect.

You linked your arm with Saebyeok’s, your touch light and reassuring. “it’s so nice out, isn’t it?” your voice was soft, like the rustling of leaves.

“yeah.” Saebyeok said quietly, her voice low. but a small, almost imperceptible smile played on her lips. she wouldn’t admit it, but she was happy. back in the bleakness of the games, any notion of peace or beauty had been a distant dream. now, here she was, walking hand in arm with someone she genuinely cared about, under a starlight sky. the absurdity of it all wasn’t lost on her, but this time, the absurdity felt good.

you two walked in comfortable silence, the only sounds the gentle slap of your shoes against the pavement and the distant rumble of a car. Saebyeok watched you as you occasionally plucked a stray leaf from a low-hanging branch, your fingers delicate and graceful. she thought about how you had been a lifeline, pulling her out of the darkness that had threatened to consume her. you’d seen the vulnerability beneath Saebyeok’s tough exterior, the pain she tried so hard to hide, and had held on, refusing to let go.

“are you okay?” you asked, tilting your head. your eyes were full of concern

Saebyeok looked away, embarrassed that she’d been caught staring. “yeah. why wouldn’t i be?”

you chuckled. “i just thought you liked a little pensive.” you stopped walking to face Saebyeok, your gaze unwavering. “you don’t have to pretend with me, you know? i know things are still hard.”

Saebyeok’s jaw tightened. she hated that you knew her so well, hated that you could see right through her carefully constructed walls. but she also appreciated it, deep down, with a firefly possessive protectiveness.

“it’s different,” Saebyeok admitted, her voice barely a whisper. “being like this. normal.” the word felt foreign on her tongue.

you reached out and took Saebyeok’s hand, your fingers intertwining with hers. your touch was a silent promise - a promise of understanding, of acceptance, of love. “normal is beautiful, Sae. and you deserve all the beauty in the world.”

Saebyeok couldn’t quite meet your gaze, her heart feeling like it might burst from her chest. she was used to violence, to betrayal, to having to be strong. but this, this soft vulnerability, this quiet intimacy, was both terrifying and undeniably intoxicating.

the two of you continued walking, the silence no longer heavy but filled with unspoken words and shared emotions. you passed by a brightly lit corner store, and you squeezed Saebyeok’s hand. “let’s get ice cream,” you said, your eyes sparkling with mischievous delight.

Saebyeok, despite herself, found a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. it wasn’t the forced, predatory smile she had worn in the games. it was a real smile, a genuine expression of joy.

she nodded, letting you lead her towards the store, the humid air suddenly feeling lighter, the city’s hum suddenly softer, and a sense of something akin to peace settling deep within her soul. the world outside could be cruel and unforgiving, but here, in the gentle warmth of your love, Saebyeok found a refuge, a haven where she could finally just be. and in that quiet summer night, walking hand in hand with you, she finally understood that maybe, just maybe, she could truly be free.

[soldearestsoulmate]

Warnings: Implied nonconsensual acts towards the reader, abuse, abusive relationship, kidnapping, and yandere stuff of nature. Proceed with caution.

Sol x GN!Reader

You hear the sound of the door unlocking to your room...You don't bother to look to see who it is. You know who it is, it's always the same now. It's always him.

Casually he walks in, he sets some things down on the table, checks his phone. A ritual of his now. Then like always, grabs something from the bag, a bouquet of flowers. Bright colors to grace the room, but none compare to your beauty he feels.

He walks over to you, repeats the same questions. Same lines "Have you been good while I was away, pumpkin? Of course you were. I know you were. You're so good, so well behaved. Heh...You're beautiful. I love you so much."

He touches your face, before you used to flinch at his touch, even move or fight away. Now you don't move away from it or even towards it as he wishes and hopes. You just accept it. Let it happen, until its over.

He shows off the flowers he got for you, a gift, then brings them in close for you to smell...Some you instantly recognize...Some are known to help calm one down...Relax them...

He sets them by your bed side, to look at, to let them do their job...As if its even needed now though.

Then he does what he always does...He checks your restraints. Not too tight, not too lose. No signs of tempering, no signs of unlocking. They are perfect. As it should be.

"I was thinking of making something nice again for our special date tonight. I'm sure you'll love what I have planned. A nice dinner, some wine, maybe soothing music..." He goes on about the plan, the fantasy he wants to make reality.

You try to power through it, to not let it bother you, but you know what comes after every special date now...What happens after the meal is finished. There's no romance involved, no love, or what a normal person would call love.

It's just a sick desire, obsession of his put into play...And you're his obsession...His sick twisted desire...

"--you'll love all of that won't you, pumpk--" So stops talking, as he notices the tears falling from your eyes. You haven't moved, haven't spoken, but yet your tears fall. "Oh pumpkin...It's alright. I'm right here now." He wraps his arms around you, holding you close, comforting you. He takes in your scent, your warmth, it drives him crazy but he tries to contain himself, for now... "You're safe now. Your husband is here again to always love and protect you. Now and forever, my love."

You wish this nightmare would stop.

You wish you would wake up already and be free from this all.

But there's no waking up from this nightmare.

No freedom for you now.

This is your home now.

This is your life...

For now and forever, with your beloved husband Sol...

[unconventional-lawnchair]

Lily's Touch

Poly!Marauders + Lily x Reader who's experiencing her first heat...

Summary: The reader is experiencing her first heat, and nothing matter how hard she tries, she can't get the nest right.

WC: 1.4k

CW: Omegaverse, grammar and spelling, not proof read, references of intense emotions and the reader is elf conscious.

Remus knew it was coming- everyone did.

Seven years of Hogwarts, two years of living with your mates, and not once had you experienced a heat.

It didn’t bother him, not really. It didn’t bother any of them, but they all knew how much it bothered you. The way your shoulders tensed when Lily went into heat, how you’d quietly dote on her with sweet affections, offering soothing touches and cups of tea. But when it came to yourself, you withdrew, closing in on yourself like you didn’t deserve the same attention. You never said it outright, but they could see it- the way you felt left behind, as though your body had somehow failed you. It broke his heart.

They’d tried to comfort you in countless ways. Late-night reassurances, Remus’s soft words murmured over cocoa, James’s hand squeezing yours with that protective and reassuring energy, Sirius teasing you relentlessly until you couldn’t help but laugh, and Lily’s endless supply of comfort. They’d spent nights making sure you knew that even if you never went into heat, even if your body never did what you expected, it wouldn’t change how much they loved you. You were theirs, no matter what. But words only went so far.

Yesterday, everything changed.Remus was the first to notice.

It started small; little things, like the way you trailed after them through the house, never straying too far from anyone’s side. You clung to Sirius’s shirt that morning as he made breakfast, your fingers twisting in the fabric absentmindedly. Sirius had given you a curious look but said nothing, choosing instead to ruffle your hair and tease you lightly about being clingy. Normally, you’d respond with a sassy remark or a playful shove, but this time, you simply leaned into his touch with a quiet hum.

James noticed next. You curled up beside him on the couch, tucking yourself under his arm like you belonged there, and he didn’t question it. He simply wrapped an arm around you, pressing a soft kiss to your temple while Lily smiled knowingly from across the room.

By midday, it was undeniable. You were restless, unsettled in a way none of them had seen before. Your instincts were bubbling just beneath the surface, tugging at you in directions you didn’t fully understand. And by evening, it all came to a head.

The last sign was when Remus got up to move. You’d been half-curled in Sirius’s lap, Remus’s fingers absentmindedly tracing patterns along your ankle. But the moment he shifted to stand, you stared at him, wide-eyed and panicked, as if the simple act of him moving away was too much to bear.

“Hey, it’s alright,” Remus cooed softly, pausing in place. He hadn’t meant to upset you, but the way your eyes began to water sent a sharp pang through his chest.

“I’m sorry.” You mumbled, your voice small and shaky. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

“There’s nothing wrong with you,” Remus whispered gently, stepping closer again. “Come here.” He opened his arms, and you immediately clung to him, pressing your face into his jumper with a sniffle of a cry.

That night, Remus took you to bed with him, and the simple act of being close seemed to calm you. But it was only the beginning.

The next day, it became clear to everyone- this was it. You were going into heat for the first time.

No one said a word, not wanting to put pressure on you. The human body was strange, and any small thing could ruin this. They wanted you to experience it at your own pace, to live through it without the weight of expectations. But by afternoon, as everyone gathered in the living room, it became impossible to ignore.

You’d gotten it into your head that you needed to build a nest. It started with a pile of blankets and pillows in the corner of the room, but no matter how much you arranged and rearranged them, it didn’t feel right. You’d build it up, only to tear it apart moments later, frustration growing with every failed attempt.

Remus had seen it coming- how you were spiraling between uncertainty and instinct, your body and mind at odds with something new and overwhelming. It made his chest ache, watching you struggle to build your nest, tearing it apart moments later as frustration clouded your features. He wanted to reach out, to tell you again that it didn’t matter if it was perfect. That you didn’t need to prove anything to them. You were enough. You always had been.

But he knew better. You needed to figure it out in your own way. Still, he stayed close, crouched beside you, ready to help if you asked.

Lily’s voice was calm and soothing, her fingers brushing through your hair as she murmured reassurances. “It’s okay, love. It doesn’t have to be perfect.”

“But it feels wrong.” Your voice trembled, hands twisting in the fabric of a blanket as though it might somehow yield the answer you were looking for. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“It’s strange the first time,” Lily said gently, her hand never pausing in its soothing strokes. “You’re doing great, I promise.”

You didn’t seem convinced. Remus could see the doubt weighing on you, the way your shoulders tensed under Lily’s touch. It wasn’t frustration anymore; it was fear. Fear of doing it wrong. Fear of not being enough.

“You’re trying too hard,” he said softly, leaning in a little closer. “It’s okay to ask for help.”

“I don’t want to mess it up,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. “I just… I want to impress you. I want it to be good. I want to do it right for once.”

The words hit him harder than he expected. You didn’t need to impress them. You didn’t need to be anything other than who you already were. He reached out, gently taking your trembling hands in his own, giving them a soft squeeze. “You don’t have to impress us,” he said quietly. “We already think you’re incredible.”

James knelt beside you, hazel eyes warm with quiet affection. “We’re proud of you,” he whispered. “No matter what.”

Sirius plopped down on your other side, grinning as he draped an arm around your shoulders. “Come on then, what is it?”

You blinked at him, confused. “What’s what?”

Sirius shrugged, voice teasing but kind. “What’s that pretty head saying? What’s it want you to do?”

For a moment, you hesitated. Remus could see the conflict in your eyes, the way you bit your lip nervously. But then, something shifted. You let out a shaky breath, slowly rising to your feet. They all watched in silence as you paused, glancing around the room like you were searching for something. Your fingers twitched at your sides, your breathing uneven.

And then, as though pulled by an unseen thread, you turned and made your way toward the shared room. You hesitated at the door, casting a glance back at them, eyes uncertain, before stepping inside.

Remus followed quietly, stopping in the doorway as you approached Lily’s nest. He didn’t say anything, didn’t want to disturb whatever instinct was guiding you now. He only watched as you reached out, running your fingers over the soft blankets and pillows that made up Lily’s carefully crafted space.

You knelt down slowly, curling into the nest with a soft, content sigh, as though it was the only place you’d ever wanted to be. Lily covered her mouth with her hand, eyes glistening with unshed tears as she took in the sight of you nestled in her space. There was something unspoken between the two of you, something so deeply emotional that it made Remus’s throat tighten.

Of course. Of course, this was where you’d end up.

Was it really all that shocking? You had always been Lily’s girl. Always gravitated toward her warmth, her comfort. It made sense in a way that felt almost poetic, that your first heat would lead you to her nest, to the place where you felt safest.

Remus smiled softly to himself, heart aching with affection as he watched Lily crawl in beside you, wrapping her arms around you protectively. You sighed again, melting into her hold, and Remus knew- no matter how long it had taken, no matter how difficult it had been for you to get here- you were finally where you belonged.

[cheapshrimpysheep]

Hiii!! is it okay if I request a comfort(?) scenario/headcanons with Vil, Idia, Malleus and Lilia where a female protagonist feels self-conscious about having stretch marks and/or cellulite, thanks (Sorry if it's not spelled well, English is not my native language)

COMMENTS: So... even though I myself am a woman, I genuinely never saw stretch marks or cellulite as something bad or ugly, and I still don't. So maybe making the characters share the same vision as me would be accurate? The only exception to complete indifference is Vil, but not in the way you might be thinking.

Btw, I didn't see any point in writing this in a context other than an already advanced relationship given the topic. Fortunately, the 4 characters are 18 years or older so it doesn't end up being... you know, too weird.

I explain at the end why I couldn't write anything for Malleus or Lilia. But despite that, I hope you and all like what I managed to write. ❤️

CHARACTERS: Vil Schoenheit / Idia Shroud

TAGS: Fluff; Fem!Reader; Comfort; In a Relationship; Suggestive(?)

WORD COUNT: An average of 580 words per character

CONTEXT: I don't think it would make sense for two people to have this kind of intimate conversation outside of a romantic or even sexual relationship. So in that situation, he and you would be in a relationship.

This was an insecurity of yours from the beginning. After all, your boyfriend was none other than Vil Schoenheit. It would be worrying enough if he were a normal model, but he's not only a super model but one of the biggest in all of Twisted Wonderland.

He had already noticed that since you started dating you seemed more worried and less confident about your appearance and that was when he said to you:

“I am the one who needs to be perfect, not you. If I wanted to date a model I could do it, but my standards in romantic relationships are others. Different from some of my colleagues in this field. I will always help you to further improve your image if you wish and feel comfortable with it. Please don't see this as me wanting you to change your appearance, but as an attempt to make you as beautiful on the outside as you are on the inside.” He pauses for a second. “However, for some reason, there's something that bothers me about the possibility of making you start living the same lifestyle as me.”

But he would only get the answer to why that bothered him later.

“The truth is: you are my escape. I don't feel the pressure to be perfect with you because... you know I'm not and yet you look at me with more admiration than anyone else. You are my escape from the superficial and futile parts of my professional life. When you live in these types of environments, you start to lose track of what really matters and what really does you good. Thinking about you being swallowed up by this... and losing your genuine smile... because of me... I can't allow it! Please know that no opinion about your appearance matters other than your own. And it wasn't just that that made me fall in love.”

This may have made you feel more comfortable and confident about your appearance again, but as the relationship became more serious and you became more intimate, eventually your problem with stretch marks and cellulite began to affect your mood again.

At home, Vil had massage sessions from time to time not only to help him relax but also for other healthy effects it had on his body. He thought that now that he was dating you, maybe it would be interesting for him to buy massage products and for you to start having these sessions with each other.

“You deserve a massage probably even more than I do.” He tells you, referring to the hardships you go through with Grim and the others.

And that's when he realizes from your hesitation that something about your appearance has bothered you again. He asks you to tell him and that you can trust him. After all, if you couldn't, what kind of boyfriend would he be? And you end up talking about your stretch marks and cellulite.

“I see.” He says understandingly. “I've never had them myself, but I've met many women in the beauty industry who talk about it to each other. Not to mention the advertisements for products for it. Do you remember what I told you when we first started dating and you felt less confident about your appearance? I am the one who needs to be perfect, not you. Furthermore, from what I understand, these marks are usually found on areas around the stomach, hips, breasts, and thighs.” He looks at you seductively. “You don't really think I would have any kind of criticism if you gave me the honor of seeing these parts of your body, do you? Why don't you let me give you that massage? I'll show you what I truly find beautiful about you.”

At first you didn't even think about it. It was only when the relationship started to get more serious and you started to sleep together from time to time that you started to worry.

Especially when Idia started having less of a problem walking around you shirtless. And giving hints about how he would like to see you wearing his shirts, without pants.

One day he says he wants to acknowledge the elephant in the room, but instead of asking why you hide your body so much, he asks if you still don't consider him worthy of seeing his girlfriend comfortably sexy.

“You never hid the fact that you like to see me shirtless.” He says while playing some game on the computer. “I also want to see you like that. Not necessarily shirtless, that's another level, but like, you know I don't like to embody the confident handsome guy who likes to walk around with little clothing on." His hair starts to turn hot pink.” But... I like how you look at me when I do. And what you say. Which I never understood ‘cause I don't even have good physics. But you do! You would be that character that every player simps for.” He sinks into his chair. “But I understand, getting that kind of look from me is disgusting...”

You may have your insecurities, but he has them too. And finally you feel the need and the comfort enough to reveal to him that that isn’t the problem, that you would also like him to find you hot as you find him and that the problem is your marks.

“What marks? Like scars? Don't tell me you have cool battle scars, like doesn't that make a person even sexier?”

You say you're not talking about scars, but stretch marks and cellulite.

“... Yah... sorry, I think I rolled a natural 1 in intelligence for this. What was that again?”

You say they are marks, irregularities and dimples in the skin and that he can search them on the internet. He does that.

“It says that these are natural things that don't do any harm. But they can impact self-image.” He researches a little more. “Wait! Are you trying to tell me that you find these strips and irregularities ugly enough to the point that you have to hide them? THIS?” He smiles mockingly “Oh no! How horrible! Your skin looks like... skin! What a tragedy!”

He will be very happy if you can laugh with him.

“As if I would even notice that. It says here that these marks are usually found on areas around the stomach, hips, breasts, and thighs. Do you really think that if I saw these parts of your body it would be little stripes and dimples that would catch my attention?” The pink in his hair becomes more intense. “I may be a shut-in but don't lump me in with those worms who define their standards based on adult videos. I can assure you that's not what you'll have to worry about if you take your clothes off in front of me.”

He finally looks at you with a seductive look and smiles confidently when he sees that you are flustered.

I really really really tried to imagine scenarios with Malleus or Lilia, but I couldn't think of anything very meaningful.

Malleus wouldn't understand the problem even if you tried to explain it to him because... it doesn't make sense to him. They're just marks. He also has marks, like, on his forehead. Is there something wrong with this?

And Lilia would just laugh for you thinking this is a problem and just tell you to forget about it.

They wouldn't understand, because it wouldn't make any difference to them at all. And that's it.

With Vil and Idia I was able to think of something because they are, like, from this generation, and because one is in the beauty industry and the other is, probably, chronically online, they can see where your insecurity comes from. But for someone like Malleus or Lilia, this type of insecurity has no basis whatsoever. I really don't know what to write with them.

Sorry. 🥺

If you dropped in here out of the blue and want to read more from me, you can find it in my pinned post: INDEX

[hadesoftheladies]

‘Sex strikes’ aren’t the feminist win they appear to be. Here’s how to get really radical | Finn Mackay | The Guardian

So just read this entire article, and while there's worthwhile information on the history of separatism, 4B and political lesbianism, there's several statements Finn Mackay makes that grind my gears.

The main problem with the idea of a women’s sex strike is that rape exists. Much of the commentary in response to women’s videos and content openly makes this point, as young men reply that women don’t always have a choice. The slogan “your body, my choice”, which has circulated online since Trump’s victory, bleakly summarises this stance.

Rape is, obviously, never done with a woman's consent. But one must really ask, why are so many young women seeing celibacy as a legitimate solution? I recall a scene in Bottoms (2023) when the highschool girls gathered in a cirlce in the gym and the protagonist asked them how many of them had been raped. None of them raised their hands. When the protagonist asked, "Okay, what if we allow for grey areas?" all the girls raised their hands.

Rape is largely seen as something that is done to women walking home alone at night, outside on the street. It must be overt, obvious and completely unavoidable for it to be legit to the public mind. But many teenage girls and women experience rape in romantic relationships with men. SO MANY experience sexual abuse in initially consensual relationships. A LOT OF RAPE occurs during an initially consensual sex act and in initially consensual marriages. We've heard the stories of girls being choked in the middle of making out (without consenting), or being brutalized and disregarded when asking their romantic partner to stop. The normalization of rape in marriage is also proof of its prevalence.

THAT is why so many girls and women are willing to do away with it altogether. Even if it is not likely to change the hearts of men (and here I agree with Mackay), it is WISDOM and COMMON SENSE to close the bedroom door on a man or boy hyped up on violent pornography and indoctrinated by male supremacist notions.

Celibacy is not going to keep out every rapist, but it will reduce the odds of rape endemic to the culture of heterosexual dating/marriage. And even if it wasn't very effective in doing so, the solution certainly wouldn't be, "Hey, I know 60-80% of boys and men are literally primed to sexually brutalize you, but just follow your heart and take a chance anyways and maybe you'll find a good one despite your dogshit odds." Why are we sending girls to the lions' den because the lions will prowl anyway??? Hello?

It is also debatable whether the idea of a sex strike is inherently a feminist act. A problem with seeing a sex ban alone as somehow revolutionary is that it plays into the very problems that arguably created the need for activism in the first place. In this framing, sex is labour – work that women do for men, and can then limit, manipulate or withhold alongside demands for improved conditions. That is not radical. Sex has long been defined under patriarchy as something men want and women should do. Such understandings of sex are why it took so long for rape in marriage to be recognised as a crime, for example – because how could a husband take from his wife what was rightfully his by the law of marriage? Framing sex as women’s labour for men results in sex being commodified and objectified, and the problem is that what can be bartered, exchanged or sold can also be taken. This is not an empowering position from which to call for revolution between the sexes.

Except on a SOCIOECONOMIC SCALE, sex for women is very much already commodified, already labour and already exploited. Prostitution, surrogacy, etc are thriving industries at the moment, so sex (in addition to marriage and motherhood) can very much be defined as a kind of labour in modern society. Even if calling sex labour is also patriarchal rhetoric, it is also an economic fact. Marriages and reproductive labour are invaluable to a patriarchal economy.

SECONDLY, 4B rightfully recognizes sex as the domain men use to exercise their power over women. Patriarchy is fundamentally sexual and deeply intertwined with the heterosexual dynamic. In fact, for the most part, however unfortunate, it defines it. The question isn't whether sex is labour we can use to get men to give us our rights, but whether it is a reclaiming of power and the female identity by refusing men access, by refusing to acquiesce to the fundamental domain of patriarchal power.

The sexual exploitation of women is the gist of patriarchy. That's like it's main thing. By opting out whenever and wherever possible, the woman redefines herself in patriarchal society as explicitly the opposite of what Mackay and many Western liberals suggest she is doing by "sex striking." She is defining herself outside the heteropatriarchal framework and declaring herself an individual independent of the patriarchal state. Men would not be so enraged by this loss of sexual access if this meant nothing to patriarchal power.

It is a little funny to me that Mackay insists that 4B women are agreeing to patriarchal rhetoric by literally refusing to give men what they want and expect of women. These women know sex is expected of them, which is why they're saying no. But Mackay sees it as them adopting the patriarchal narrative themselves. Just . . . fascinating.

Additionally, sexual relationships with men, with or without abuse, are often the gateway to domestic and maternal exploitation. Part of 4B is refusing to marry men and mother children from or with them, both legitimate modes of socioeconomic patriarchal power. Women get pregnant and married purely in relation to sex with men. So sex with men is either the gateway to such exploitation or the justification for it.

The mainstream take on 4B frames it as a sex strike by young, marketable, heterosexual women. An alternative would be to reject such sexist constructs of sex and sexuality, and to imagine, and work towards, an egalitarian future where men and women are not divided up into predator and prey. Rather than a sex strike, there is another tried and tested form of activism, utilised by women and men the world over: a workers strike, the withdrawal of our wage labour that fuels the systems of capital that dare to govern us. Ban patriarchy, not sex.

This is one of her more mistifying statements. I agree with the first sentence entirely. But it goes downhill quickly from there. Imagining a world where men and women are equal does not erase the fact that for a huge chunk of history to the present, women are prey and men predators. That's just the reality. Imagining will not make it go away, and it isn't wrong for women to use language that highlights this reality, no matter how crude.

The second half is even more vague. To me, it's the equivalent of a shoulder shrug. Mackay has spent so much of the article discussing the pitfalls of 4B and separatist thought, and when pressed for an alternative, she just says "capitalism bad."

This is what I mean when I say the zeitgeist is severely divorced from women's experiences. Of course, class struggle is important, but women and men do not experience class struggle the same. We have had all sorts of revolutions over the course of history and a diversity of governmental structures to bat. Yet, communism, monarchy, capitalism and socialism have all failed to eradicate patriarchy. The nuclear family, the home, remains a stronghold in post-revolution societies. So the home, this cell of society, must be the primary battlefield on which human progress--women's liberation--is fought and won.

Like, this article is so shallow in its conclusions its tasteless. How will women "ban" patriarchy exactly? How will they do it on a governmental level if they can't even do it in their homes? How will they find the time and energy to fight for their own rights if they first have to fight for every other cause and then use the rest of that energy on their boyfriends/husbands/children?

The biggest flaw in anti separatist/celibacy/4B posts is that they all consisntently ignore the primary modes of women's socieconomic exploitation at the hands of men: sex, marriage and reproductive labor. AND LET'S BE CLEAR: all these aspects of women's sexuality and sex have been commodified LONG BEFORE our modern age. Girls and women were bought and sold into marriage in order to bear children for men's estate. Critics also frequently ignore the fact that female-only spaces consistently bolster feminist thought and activism. Female solidarity is a huge threat to patriarchy.

So if we as women aren't striking against the very spheres that men use to dominate us, then how on earth can we claim to be advocating for our own cause? How can we combat patriarchy and ignore it's primary functions? If we aren't getting rid of patriarchal institutions and reclaiming power from domains male supremacists have invaded (e.g. our sex lives) then how on earth could we possibly measure the progress of our own liberation?

We cannot keep "let them eat cake"-ing our way to women's liberation. Radical feminists more than ever need to embrace being anti gender, anti marriage, anti religion, anti cosmetics, etc. Or we're fighting for everyone and everything but ourselves.

[foolishaetherguardian]

Also how difficult will it be for him to get a job after this? Even if he’s proven not guilty in court the whole world knows his name and associates it with the CEO executioner. His life has been irrevocably changed by this. He’ll forever be the guy accused of gunning down Brian Thompson. And if he just wants to move on? Live his life? He can’t unless he basically witness protections himself. New name new town none of the old friends maybe even surgery or hair dye too. Just to live a somewhat normal life after all of this.

i don’t have anything else to add

[prickleestull]

The idea of Batman being the youngest League member is actually so funny to me right now

We all know about code switching, which is like when people change their personality depending on who they’re with - completely normal to have different vibes with your family than you would with your friends. But Bruce? Having to act older? Hilarious.

I can imagine teenage dad Bruce picking Dick up from school with smoothies and Hilary Duff music and just letting him decompress from his day however he wants, just as easily as I can imagine Bruce intently studying the teachers and older parents at PTA meetings just so he has a reference of how to act the correct kind of Old™️

And maybe this is totally fine and everything goes smoothly, but maybe little Robin is just trying to figure out why his dad is acting like his friends mom out of nowhere.

The main scenario bouncing around in my empty skull is when one of the YJ members are intentionally using internet slang to throw off the adults, so that none of them know what they’re talking about. Only for Batman to respond way too easily. I have purse Batman. You’re cute jeans Batman. Idk idk idk idk

[spoopyandtired]

awesome, super cool, and like. totally awesome. like really awesome.

[lunebulous]

How would Xavier react to seeing you dressed as a bride? - Bonus Chapter

C.w: fluff, non-established relationship, silly, xavier x reader, sfw, corpse bride mentions, not proofread.

Stirring a purple juice that seems to be thicker than it should, Xavier is startled by his own doorbell. He’s not waiting for anyone - didn’t ask for any takeout today - so he knows it’s you. He tries not to smile to himself as he dries his own hands in a dish towel nearby, only then realizing the mess he made in the kitchen. He starts desperately trying to tidy up before you ring again - so this will have to make do. He turns off the oven and rushes to the door. 

“Coming.” He says in a soft and happy voice. And as if you didn’t hear, you start repeatedly ringing it again just to annoy him. 

He opens it. “What’s all this for? Is someone chewing your arm off?” He smiles, just genuinely content in seeing you smiling at him, even if there is a hint of suspiciousness in your eyes. “No, but with the time it took you to answer me, I already could have started decomposing!” You retort, making him softly roll his eyes before taking a look at you. You are so adorable. There is what seems to be a pink photo album in your hands. He furrowed his eyebrows before letting you in. “It’s from the photoshoot my friends and I did, the pictures are ready and Anne just delivered it to me!” You say, taking your shoes off. Xavier giggles to himself when he sees your shark socks, but decides to not tease you about it - for now. “Since you were very kind and brought me food, I wanted to have my first look with you!” You walk towards his sofa, and he follows soon after, gazing at the top of your head. He wishes he could kiss it. “First look, huh. Did you have fun?” He asks, taking the photo album from your hands. It’s a baby pink hard leather cover, his fingers grazing against the texture. There is embroidery in the middle of it: a heart with an arrow through it. First look… Now he could say he had this experience once. “A lot. It was very funny, none of our costumes blended with each other so we were laughing the whole time.” You scoot closer, signaling for him to open it already. 

“What were you again..? Dead bride..?” He places his arm on the back of the couch behind you, giving some space for you to move freely. “Corpse Bride, Xavier! I thought you knew who she was!” You stare at him, slapping his knee playfully. 

“I do!” - He doesn’t. - “I just.. don’t remember the names, that’s all.” He shakes his head, looking down. “And you didn’t look like a corpse.. You looked like a cute-” “I know I didn’t! I wasn’t ready yet. You’ll see! Open it! Hurry!” Xavier sighs softly, his heart beating out of his chest. He doesn’t know if he’s relieved or disappointed he didn’t get to compliment you. But he opens the album anyway. The first few pictures are you and your friends arriving, holding lots of bags. The photos are mostly made of ‘backstage’ moments, just as you and your friends requested. Throughout the pictures you can see the process of you guys taking out the makeup, some of you suddenly in costumes, Sam opening a package of a bald cap while Lexy laughed in disbelief. You haven't appeared in a lot of pictures yet. “Here Lexy is laughing because Sam chose to be Pitbull. It’s an old singer known as Mr. Worldwide. He’s bald, so she had to be too.” you’re grinning from ear to ear. “Pit. Bull..? Why did she choose.. a bald man? Out of so many..” He takes a look at you, meeting your ‘why-not’ gaze. “You girls...” Xavier is smiling too. He’s happy you’re happy with your weird little friends. “It’s the only time she’d have the opportunity to be photographed professionally as a bald man. That’s enough reason, I think. I get her.” You simply say, as he turns one more page. Finally, his pretty girl. You’re still in your normal clothes, painting one of your friend’s face orange. The picture is - in its own way - beautiful. It captures you both smiling to each other, even if your friend is half-orange in it. You’re not wearing that hairpin yet though. “Where did you get that hairpin..? It was pretty.” He stares at you in the photo. “Oh, Anne, the short-haired lady that photographed us gave it to me. First she just wanted to try making a hairstyle on my hair but she decided I should keep it after all.” You answer, mindlessly getting closer to him and turning another page, against his will. He wished he could look at you longer but he’s happy you’re leaning on him now.

“I understand.” Now he’s facing a picture of you, just the way you were when he saw you in-person there. In a bride dress, hairpin in place holding your bun up, with a smile so bright and beautiful it makes his heart clench. You’re leaning against the window, looking to your side and probably laughing at something one of your friends did. The natural light casts an ethereal glow around you. He can’t help but place a hand on his chest, disguising it as an itch. He quickly glances at you as you’re concentrating on the picture beside it. You are so precious to him and you have no idea. But someday he'll show you, by having you wear a white dress again, accompanied by a beautiful blue sapphire ring on your left hand. And you turn the page again. He frowns imperceptibly, letting you have your own special experience. After some chuckles and curious questions, you guys are almost at the end of the photo album, where lies a group picture. Xavier suddenly snorts at the scene. Getting startled by it, you look down to see what made him get that reaction, and your hands immediately press on your mouth, shoulders starting to shake from how much you’re holding back a loud laugh.

It’s you - Corpse Bride - along with Lord Farquaad, Morticia, Lorax, Gojo and Pitbull. There is no possible way this photoshoot made sense and you started thinking that this was the most irresponsible financial decision you have ever made - but worth the laugh. At the same time, all Xavier can see is you, almost melting on his lap over the album - laughing so hard it’s silent. It doesn’t take long before you sit up correctly again and he takes another look at the picture, now chuckling. You try to say something but there’s tears in your eyes and everytime you look at the picture you find something new to laugh at.

Finally getting to the end, he closes the album and you let out a heavy sigh, two tears streaming down your face. Xavier looks at you, and carefully dries them with his thumbs, using a light touch as to not ruin your makeup - just the way you taught him. 

He himself sighs a bit too, feeling a mixture of love and pure admiration for your laugh and your own kind of weirdness. He cradles your face in his hands, the moment suddenly intimate between both of you. Calming down, you look at his eyes, searching for a feeling’s name you don’t even know. 

He is not drying up your tears anymore, just.. holding you with adoring eyes. It makes you blush and panic a little, suddenly getting up. “Xavier, I-!” He looks at you with parted lips and wide eyes, before quickly going back to his smirking face. You try to not feel like there’s a lingering desire to hold each other close as you look down at him in silence for some seconds. “Uhm..Oh!” You start patting your pockets. “Anne said you paid her a sandwich before you came to the studio! She told me how she forgot her money and all, and how lucky she felt when you appeared and offered to pay for her!” You take out an envelope out of the inside pocket of your jacket, as Xavier stares at you with the most confusing expression you have ever seen etched on his face. But you keep going. “So she.. wanted to pay you back. Here it is.” You give him the envelope. Xavier takes it hesitantly, immediately noticing that the envelope feels firmer than it should. He has an idea of what it may be in mind, but he’s not so sure of it. You quickly take the photo album from his lap, breathing deeply as your heart starts calming itself down. You take a last glance at him - he’s staring at the envelope. 

“Tell her I said thank you.” Xavier softly analyzes the envelope, not opening it. “I will. Then.. I should get going.” you point to his door behind you. “I left my windows open and I don't want all of my reports flying down the window.” You blurt out, making things up just to leave. Xavier can tell you’re nervous, so he doesn’t insist. He gets up and accompanies you to the door, waving bye. Slowly walking back to his living room, he opens the envelope. He knew it. It's two pictures of you, his beautiful pretend-bride. Both of them are identical - taken moments apart. You are sitting on a low stool, legs close to your body and a bottle of orange juice at your feet. In one of them you are taking a full bite of the sandwich he brought you, and in the other one your eyes are squinting in pure joy as you chew with round cheeks. There’s a soft blush on your face and he can tell how happy you were. Xavier caresses the picture as if you could feel it. As if you could feel how much he wants you by his side. He’s just waiting for the right moment. For the right moment to hold you close, to kiss your soft lips, to claim you as his. To ask you if he can be your boyfriend, just to wait some more before asking if you’d like to be his wife. But right now, something takes him out of it. He sniffs something. He startles like a cat, running to the kitchen. Shitshitshitshitshit! Instead of turning off the oven, he turned it all the way on. He sighs. “Not again…!” Turning off the oven - correctly, this time -, he takes a look at your pictures again. Turning them, he found out Anne had written “Your future bride looks cute enough to make a grown man cry, indeed.” And he blushes immediately. She still has no idea Xavier isn’t even her boyfriend yet, but it’s not like he’ll correct her anytime soon. He looks at the overheated oven, smelling like burnt iron.

First, he must learn how to cook to be a good husband, after all.

I hope you guys enjoyed this little series - and if it's of interest for anyone, Xavier kept these photos under a pile of clothes in his wardrobe - but he took some pictures of it with his cellphone so he could gaze at his bride anytime he felt like it - constantly.

[marxalittle]

If someone is trying to sell you the morality of Dr Kellogg, but pitched to appeal to you on the basis of your intrinsic traits, still laugh at them. They're still a bran eating prodnose obsessed with the behaviour of other adults. They're still peddling shame and calling people degenerate, even if they're also telling you that you, on account of your intrinsic traits, are superior, pure, moral, intelligent, powerful.

If someone is trying to convince you that any intrinsic trait you have, or they have, elevates them above the morass of mere humanity, throw rotten fruit at them until they shut up forever. They're peddling slavery and offering to let you hold the whip.

Essentialism, the conviction that there are certain immutable characteristics shared by all persons with a certain set of traits, experiences, or particular physiology, and not shared by any humans outside that defined group, is bullshit. There is no next step in human evolution. We're none of us intrinsically better than any of the rest of us, and over-application of the principle of non-contradiction to the contrary notwithstanding, we all have more in common than not.

The category is "human," goddamnit it, and we are all in it.

Anyone who says otherwise (and I'm not talking about people who have become dissociated from identification with humans or humanity, because in this case they still fall under "if you prick me do I not bleed") is doing so for a reason, and the reason is typically "defining a set of humans as not as human as another set, or defining a set of humans as more human than others," and that is-- again!-- how you get genocide.

I get that when one is marginalized, oppressed, abused, disenfranchised, degraded, etc for a trait, one wishes to valorize it. One wants the redemptive hero arc in which the very trait which one was reviled for becomes not just one's salvation but one's vindication, one's mark of superiority. Normal is overrated. Freak power.

It feels good. But celebrating oneself is good. Elevating oneself, declaring that one is not just full and equal in one's humanity but actually better and fuller and more human than other people, because of the reviled or denigrated trait, isn't it.

i don't care if it's nazis, mormons, or a bunch of misguided autistic people. if anyone ever tries to tell you your soul is from another planet and you're actually part of the class of impressive people that secretly did everything cool in the world but is now extinct and lives on through your broken genome, you RUN. YOU WILL RUN AWAY. YOU WILL SPRINT FULL SPEED AWAY FROM THAT.

[lmaowhatt]

utterly obsessed? - six

summary: actress y/n I/n has recently skyrocketed into stardom after her breakout film 'castaways' alongside sarah cameron, kevin hart, chris evans and chris hemsworth. weeks after the movies premiere, she drops her debut single, further cementing her place in the spotlight. as millions of people around the world begin to idolize her, and as she struggles with her own demons, she catches the attention of rafe cameron, who doesnt shy away from becoming utterly obsessed in what seems to be the cutest way possible.

main masterlist | series masterlist

five - six - seven

your phone

youruser

liked by jjmay, rafecameron and 986k others

youruser my life and my friends🤍 pic creds to @/jjmay for half of these i guess..

jjmay you guess?? js say u hate me atp

➯ youruser i hate u

➯ jjmay oh wow

jjmay everyone be quiet i got a whole slide to myself🙂‍↕️

➯ jjmay also those are MY guitars just to lyk

➯ youruser this screams "🤓☝🏽"

➯ jjmay im blocking you.

user the weeknd?? marry me😫

kiekie muah muah

user she got a lil weigth on her💀

➯ user learn how to spell 'weight' before judging💀

sarahcam lets just elope pls

*liked by creator*

cleopatty how are u aesthetic

➯ youruser genetics😔

➯ jjmay i chose the pics for her

➯ youruser #hater energy will not be accepted

popeh lets not forget her almost falling out the window

➯ rafecameron i had a pic she made me delete it

➯ youruser for good reason too

user HELLO??? he was at her apartment?

➯ user OMG!! so was pope!! literally shut up.

user guys the rafe comment😫

➯ user oh.. this is an online COMMENT (reply) btw..

user oh she getting passed around for suree😭

➯ kiekie yeah thats... NOT.

rafecameron

liked by popeh, sofiapalomo and 837k others

rafecameron my weekend

sofiapalomo 🤍

*liked by creator*

user notice how this got almost 200k less likes than normal?💀

sarahcam huh.

➯ user what type of 'huh' is this supposed to BE!

user yeah.. its concerning when not even SARAH likes..

user yeah.. this is not..💀

➯ user its his life regardless??

popeh omg!! a rafe feat!!

➯ rafecameron had to😘

user yo whats going AWNN!?!!?

jbr so thats why you left early.. huh.

➯ user why are sarah and him SO similar LMAO

user why are NONE of them commenting??!

➯ user y/n probably told them not to😭

➯ user they have minds of their own?

user HE replied to popes comment but not whoever she is??

➯ user i feel bad for her tbh

his phone

your phone

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a/n: i had to guys..