#otherwise you will be banned immediately

[eternalwanderer-stories]

[ the safe zone without Arcane s2 leaks]

I hate that I have to write this all the time now, but since this shit happened, I'll have to be patient.

Yes, no spoilers (I haven't watched any leaks), only my thoughts on the topic of the second season supported only by personal considerations and nothing more.

Actually, I'm afraid of the release of the second season.

The first season of Arcane came out surprisingly excellent, well thought out to the smallest detail and became literally a diamond of animation both in terms of drawing and plot, especially against the background of other not the most successful projects in the media industry over the past few years.

But at the same time, the show has set such a high bar for quality that I'm afraid the creators themselves won't be able to jump over it. Moreover, I know for sure that there will be no "Shrek effect 2", when the second part came out even better than the first and became literally legendary, because it happened just with the first season of the Arcane. I immediately decided not to build any high expectations, so as not to get upset at the end, because the credibility of the creators is really very high, but now that leaks have appeared and everything has begun to turn so rapidly into an information mess, my worries have returned again. I'm sure I'm not alone in this matter, but I really hope that the season will really turn out well.

[prying-pandora666]

I don’t know how to say this tactfully, but I’ll do my best.

If other fans online have convinced you to see the gentle, optimistic, empathetic, fun loving, whimsical, forgiving, wise beyond his years genocide survivor, as a sexist, racist, xenophobic, abusive, pro-colonization, sexual assault perpetrator who doesn’t care about anyone else and doesn’t understand trauma…

You have been LIED TO.

Please just think for a moment!

ATLA was banned in China from the beginning for a reason. Because they didn’t want anyone empathizing with a character based on Tibetan monks. Why? Because they are an actual oppressed and persecuted minority IRL. Their religious leader lives in exile. Their second most important spiritual figure is the youngest political prisoner ever taken (and to this day no one knows if he’s alive or dead!). China has actual prison and labor camps. Tibetan people get sent there for “re-education”.

Can you please think about what these “fans” are saying when they stomp all over this allegory in TLA and try to frame Aang as the oppressor?

Do you really think it’s appropriate or these people who call Aang all these horrible (and inaccurate) things are being in anyway fair when they call Aang “white coded”???

Even without the real world context, Aang is explicitly the only survivor of a genocide. The last of his people. He has lost more than anyone else in the entire franchise. There’s a reason he clings so hard to Appa.

Do you think it’s fair to compare a 12 year old misreading signals and trying to kiss a girl who already consensually kissed him before, and immediately backing off and giving her space when she says no, to rape?

Tweens and teens miscommunicating and trying to comfort each other with kisses, only to realize that’s not what their friend needed and immediately backing off is the same as having your body violently violated against your will? The same as having your “no” ignored?

How do you think this makes survivors feel? To see people use their experiences as a shield and cudgel for ship discourse? It certainly upsets me as someone who experienced intimate partner violence, let me tell you! And I know I’m not the only one.

And how is it in anyway feminist or pro-Katara to ignore her own agency and deep love she shows for Aang? Yes, that includes her own crush on him! It IS reciprocated!

Lastly, you don’t need to demonize Aang to ship whatever you want to ship. Please understand that the majority of these takes are bad faith and born out of bitterness and insecurity over a friggin FANON SHIP.

And none of it is necessary! You can ship whatever you want! You don’t need permission or excuses. You can just ship them! You can make your case for why you like another pairing better without misrepresenting what happened in the show and what these characters are like, let alone what they represent.

There’s already plenty to work with in the show as it is! Otherwise why bother?

I’m imploring fans taken in by persuasive and manipulative metas to please just think about it. Get off social media and rewatch the show for yourself thoughtfully.

It doesn’t need to be like this.

[luveline]

Hey Jade! I was wondering if you could do some Derek Morgan comfort?! Maybe reader who deals with headaches/migraines?

Hope you're having a nice day/night!!💛

thanks lovely, you too!

You're pinching the bridge of your nose pointlessly when Derek and Spencer arrive that morning. 

“D'you guys do a coffee run?” you ask, surprised to see them come in at the same time. 

“We did!” Spencer says, putting a paper cup down in front of you. “I got you a donut, too.” 

“Thanks, honey,” you say, rubbing the hot spot between your brows to no results. Spencer smiles, pleased, and sits at his desk with the bag of donuts to start a napkin dissemination. 

You wrap your hand around the coffee and let it warm your fingers. 

“You okay?” Derek asks. His brows are pinched upwards at the starts but otherwise furrowed. “You don't look happy.” 

“I have a headache,” you admit. Talking is twice as hard with the pain pulsing behind your eyes; you slur. 

“What?” 

What does he mean, what? You look up from the desk in confusion, but he isn't confused like you, he's borderline upset. “It's not that bad,” you say. 

“It looks pretty bad where I'm standing.” 

Derek grabs the back of your chair and turns you toward him, his expression a mirror of your own discontent. He's wearing a short-sleeved shirt that in any other circumstance would draw your attention, and the badge clipped to his shirt is wonky. 

You're in pain, but you like him. You care about him in the weird way that makes you want to make him breakfast and tie his shoelaces. He is not a man that needs coddling, but you can't restrain yourself, reaching for his pocket to right his badge. 

He laughs quietly. “You're squinting.” 

“Pain's in my eyes.” 

“Sweetheart.” He takes your face in one hand and turns it down, away from the harsh office lights. “You're impossible to understand.” 

You laugh but wince when a flame of pain sparks anew. “I think it's travelling. It's in my brain.” 

“That's your second best feature.” 

“Don't make me laugh,” you plead. 

Morgan gives your cheek a rub with his thumb before pulling away. He takes the few steps to his desk and opens the drawer, pulling out a familiar pair of sleek black Ray-ban shades. “Here. Try these on for size,” he says, opening the arms wide. 

You close your eyes, but there's no need. Derek's extremely careful pushing them over your ears and up your nose. 

“Too sunny in here?” Blake asks, bemused as she skirts past with her mug of tea, her baby bump nudging the back of your chair. 

“Poor girl's not feeling good,” Derek answers for you. 

“Poor girl thought you felt sorry for her,” you say, staring at him through the grey lense of his shades. They're immediately helpful. You won't tell him that, though. 

“I pity anybody stupid enough to feel sorry for you, sweetheart.” He hesitates for no more than a second, dropping his hand onto the stretch of your shoulder blade gently. “You take anything for it? Aspirin?” 

“I did,” —your voice wobbles of its own accord, the instability that comes with a pain that has no clear end in sight— “but it hasn't kicked in yet.” 

He rubs your back, pressing his cheek briefly to your forehead in a side-armed hug. “Let me get you a glass of water.” 

“Morgan?” you ask, catching his arm. He waits. “Kiss it better?” 

You say it because you know he'll crack a smile. It's not nice seeing him so worried, and your headache genuinely feels a little better when he laughs. “Don't start with me. I'll do it. You know I will, beautiful.” 

You sink back into your seat and push his sunglasses up. “I'll be here.” 

He leaves to get you a glass of water. While you're waiting, Spencer passes you your donut, which you pick apart and chew on feebly. Distracted, a warm, chaste kiss is pressed to your cheek as a familiar hand places a glass of water in front of you. 

Derek wiggles his eyebrows at you, asking, “Better?” 

“I'm telling Penelope.” You wince as you turn on your monitor. “In a bit. Just as soon as this screen gets less bright.” 

[pombeom]

remember this? | taesan fic (nsfw)

pairings: dance!au, enemies/exes to lovers, mean!dom taesan x sub!reader, street dancer! taesan x ballerina! reader warnings: mirror sex, slight exhibitionism, teasing from taesan (this is probs gonna be a given in all my future taesan fics atp), reader is tough until she soon isn’t…,name calling, slut shaming, nicknames, raw sex, hair pulling, dub con, tit sucking, dirty talk?, rough sex, creampie, fluffy ending a/n: i love myself a good enemies to lovers so this just had to be written :/

With the competition getting near, you found yourself seeing more of the studio than your own home. Out of all your teammates, you were the chosen one so naturally you felt the pressure this put on your skills and ability. Attending a renowned dance academy had its advantages but being given the responsibility to represent your school was both an honour and a burden. This only meant you had to put in the extra effort to show your worth to both the academy and the judges. You needed to prove yourself. 

Ever since being selected at the audition, your rehearsal schedule has been vigorous. Aside from the compulsory competition practices set by your dance teacher, you’d booked the studio for an extra few hours each day to get in the practice. With each step and each turn, you felt the choreography being etched into your body until till there was no more room for error, for the competition was now only days away. Everything you had worked for so far was about to play out in just a few days. 

“Alright, I think that’s enough for today. Just make sure to work on your turn out. It’s a little weak on your arabesques,” your teacher comments whilst packing her things away. 

“I noticed too. I’ll work on it now.” 

“Now? Aren’t you going home?”

“No, I booked the studio for a few more hours so I can practice a bit more.” You weren’t supposed to let her know, but it slipped out. Your dedication wasn’t as well-received as you’d expected. 

“Y/n. What did I tell you. Our class schedule is enough. The first few weeks I understand but it’s getting out of hand now. You practically live here. Soon you’re going to end up overworking yourself which will affect your performance at the competition. We can’t afford to lose it again. Do you understand?” 

“Yes, Miss Everett. But since I already booked it for today, can I just use today as one last extra practice,” you begged, trying to see her into reason. 

“Fine. But if I hear you in the studio past 10pm, then I might have to ban you from being able to book it for extra sessions in the future and I’m sure you don’t want that. Understood?” 

“Yes, Miss Everett.” 

“Good,” she nods approvingly, granting you one of her rare smiles, “I’ll see you tomorrow then.” 

“Have a good evening!” 

The door slams behind her as she leaves the room. It was just you in here. You and your reflection. Casting your eyes upon yourself, you pull your legs into an arabesque, noticing your sickled foot. Shifting its position, you attempt to get it into the right alignment when the door crashes open once again. 

Immediately dropping your leg back to the ground, you turn your eyes to meet his sharp gaze in the mirror. His lips instantly lift into a soft smirk, teasing you for being alone in the studio once again. He’d intruded on your private space and with that thought your blood boils as you grit your teeth awaiting an explanation. 

“What a surprise! You’re here again,” he exclaims, his tone flooded with sarcasm. 

“I booked the studio so of course I’m here. Can’t say the same for you though,” you scoff, ensuring your irritation was explicitly conveyed, “I don’t enjoy being interrupted mid-practice.” 

“I’m sure you don’t. But I booked this studio.”

“No. You didn’t. You’re in another one. I booked it for 8pm today.” 

“The confirmation message says otherwise.” He shows you his phone, confirming the date and time of the booking and you run to check your phone immediately. 8pm Tuesday. You’d booked it for the wrong day. Your face turns red, embarrassed to admit your mistake to him.

“Now if you don’t mind, can you leave. I’ve got to practice.” 

You slumped over as you begin slipping off your pointe shoes, complaining to yourself about his bad attitude. 

“Is that mumbling I hear?” The arrogance visible in his voice and composure as he crosses his arms, looking down at you in front of him. 

“No. You must be hearing things,” you state, standing back up once again, “now, if you move, I’ll be on my way.” 

“What if I don’t?” his smirk had only grown longer since the time he’d first entered, only causing your irritation to explode within you. 

“Han Taesan! Move out the way!” 

“Woah woah, calm down Shorty.” 

He knew you hated that nickname and yet he continues to insist upon using it. You dropped your bag back on the floor, pushing his shoulders with all your might. Your brows arched into that of anger as you continue to hit against his chest, pushing him towards the mirror until he’s cornered against it. 

“Call me that again and you won’t know what’s come over you.” 

“Is that right? Shorty?” 

It doesn’t take him long to turn you around, slamming your back against the glass. His arms cage you in between his chest, his face inching closer to you. Heart beating faster at the lack of space between you, you put up with your act of anger, grabbing the fabric of his t-shirt, moving him even closer to you. 

“I fucking hate you.” The words come out through the grit of your teeth. 

“Is that so? What are you going to do about it?” His infamous smirk once again plastered across his face, almost as if he was diminishing your sense of being. It didn’t help that he stood towering over you, standing at a head taller. 

Without a cue or warning, his arms shift place to instead wrapping around your waist almost swallowing your entire being. 

“Do you remember this? You used to love being wrapped up in my arms,” he taunts, giving your waist a squeeze. 

The past flashed in front of your eyes. The times when you were both so carefree, messing around in bed almost every other day and on nights when he wasn’t deep inside you, you’d be watching your favourite shows, or cooking dinner together. Before he disappointed you and left you to fend for yourself as he gave you up for his first love. Dance. You knew well enough that a dancer’s love will always remain with their art, you just didn’t know that that love couldn’t be shared with another person. Maybe you didn’t love your art as much as he did. Maybe that’s why you were so hurt by his betrayal. Those maybe’s slowly tore you apart after your breakup. You swore to yourself to love your art just as much as Taesan did his, if not even more. You became obsessed with the idea of being more dedicated to your dancing than he was. But where did that lead to now? 

“That was then. Back when you weren’t a fucking jerk.” 

“Do you ever miss it?” 

“Miss what?” 

“This.” 

Within seconds he lifts you up, wrapping your legs around his waist, as he uses this as his gateway into getting even closer to you. The cold mirror presses against your half exposed back with the goosebumps travelling down your spine. 

“Do you ever miss me holding you like this, knowing what comes after?” 

“Taesan…let go,” your voice was weak, knowing you didn’t mean it. 

Your attempts to push him off only resulted in him tightening his grip around your thighs. It was embarrassing how quickly you folded, with each push getting weaker as your arms became jelly under his touch. 

“I’ll let go when I want to. Now be a good girl and take me like you used to.” 

Dropping you to the ground, his hands wandered around your body effortlessly, meandering through the familiar curves. The straps of your leotard fell down your shoulders as he pulled them down revealing your half naked torso. The only thing blocking him from you was the black bra he gifted you on your anniversary 3 years ago. 

“Still got this, huh?” He teases, pinging the strap of your bra. 

With ease, he removes it from your body, staring intently at your perky tits as your nipples hardened upon contact with the cold breeze of air. Whilst one hand goes up to play with your nipple, his mouth takes care of the other, sucking around the skin of your boob. 

“Fuck! Taesan. Stop!” Your words said one thing whilst actions meant another. Your handed tangle into his hair pulling him closer to your chest, heightening the sensations of his mouth on your sensitive buds. 

The sound of a pop bought you back to your sense as he released himself from your tits. He scans the rest of your body before ripping your nearly tied skirt off your waist and pulling down your leotard to the floor, along with your tights and panties.

You felt so exposed standing naked in the vastness of the studio. The studio which you saw as the holy grail as it stood by you through thick and thin. It felt wrong to be in such a vulnerable state in a place where you knew you were going to be in the next day with your unsuspecting teacher.  

“Turn around,” he commanded. 

One swift move and your facing your naked form in the mirror as he pushes your head against the mirror, pulling your lower half closer to his as he begins grinding his clothed dick against you. 

“Fuck, you’re dripping. Such a slut aren’t you?” You peer down at his grey joggers, noticing the evident wet patch you’ve created which only turned you on more.

His slow pace picks up and his actions almost emulate him fucking you despite being fully clothed as he grabs your hips, pounding them against his tented cock. 

“Taesan, please!” Your moans were stifled as he pushes against your head harder, the mirror fogging up against your face. 

“Please what? Use your words. You were given a mouth for a reason. Or was it so you could suck my cock like the slut you are? Remember how feral you used to go over my dick?” His chuckle echoed through the room, only further getting your closer to your orgasm.

“Taesan, fuck me. I need you inside me. I wanna cum.” 

“My bitch wants to cum does she? Didn’t you say you hated me just a few minutes ago? Now you want my cock inside you pounding you like I used to?” 

“Mhmm! Please!” Your begging was received with his devious laughter. He loved the control he had over you and deep down you knew you loved it to. You missed it. 

“Only because you insist.” 

He pulls off his T-shirt over his head in one swift move, then immediately removing himself of the remainder of his clothes, allowing his hard, long cock to spring free. He aligns the tip over your throbbing core, pushing in half his length before pulling back out again. 

“Is this what you wanted?” He asks before repeating the same action. 

Taking matters into your own hands you begin sinking your hips down onto his dick, taking it all in as it hits the top of your cervix. 

“Who said you could do that? I’m in charge, don’t forget.” His hands take their place on your hip, gripping it so firmly as to disallow you from moving it any further. 

He pulls out his length completely, leaving you whining over the loss of contact. It only takes him a few seconds before he slams it back in, sharp and strong as the vibrations hit your throat, leaving you gasping for air as you let out a strangled moan. 

“You like that bitch?” Your frantic nodding only boosts his ego as he repeats it once more, before he sets up a rhythmic pace of thrusting into you. 

It doesn’t take long for you to re-familiarise yourself with his veiny cock, going dizzy at the way he’s stretching you out. 

“Faster! Please!” 

“My baby wants me to go faster? Only if you look at yourself in the mirror. Watch how well you’re taking me.” 

You instantly move your head from the mirror, feeling hazy at the sudden shift in position, Taesan continuing to fuck your brains out. 

You see yourself in the mirror, face and hair disheveled as you look up to meet Taesan’s lust filled eyes. Just as he promised, his lace picks up making your legs wobble. If it weren’t for his hands holding you up, you were certain you would have passed out. You drop your head as the pressure builds up in your core, your vision going blurry with the build up of tears. 

“Look up. I told you to watch yourself in the mirror.” His hands grab ahold of your ponytail, pulling it backwards to your head faces the mirror once again, “I want you to watch yourself fall apart on my cock. Look at you. Fucked dumb already?”

“Taesan…Ahhh! I’m gonna cum!” Your whine screeches throughout the room, desperately praying the room was soundproof. 

“Fuck. Me too. Cum with me.” 

The last few thrusts were sharp and calculated as his hand wanders down to your leaking pussy, stroking your swollen clit. Seconds later, your orgasm explodes, the tingling travelling throughout your body as you drop to the floor, your legs finally giving up on you. Taesan’s cum erupts out of you like a volcanic eruption, staining the polished wooden floors in sticky white. 

“You missed this didn’t you?” 

You had no energy left in you to respond but that was enough for Taesan to figure out the answer. 

“I’ve missed you.” 

His confession appeared out of nowhere as you lift your head up to meet his. He was now crouching on the floor to be level with your glowing face. 

“Taesan…” 

“If you don’t want me back, I understand. Just know that there’s not a day that goes by where I’m not thinking about you. From the way you laugh to the way you fit in my arms, I’m always thinking about you.” His words were much more gentle than they were before. You were reminded of your past once again. 

“I missed you too Taesan, in more ways than you can imagine. You broke my heart yet you were all that I could think about.” 

“I never should have abandoned you. My dance is important but never as important as you, baby. I’ve realised that too late.” 

“It’s never too late. I want to be held by you again. I want to kiss you like I used to and simply live like we did before. Before we were all-consumed by dance.” 

“I want to go back to that. If you’ll let me, can I ask you out? Will you be my girlfriend again?” 

Pulling him closer, your arms wrap around his neck, attaching your lips to his, the kiss was soft yet passionate enough to have your stomach fluttering from butterflies. 

“Yes. Of course I’d say yes. Let’s have a do over.” 

Competition day rolled around as both you and Taesan paced around nervously in your respective changing rooms. You mentally go over the choreography which you had injected into your limbs and calm down the nerves. 

“Y/n, go up to the stage please. You’re on after Set 14. That gives you 3 minutes.” 

You nod your head and thank the runner before heading over to side stage where Taesan is already awaiting your arrival. He picks you up in a warm embrace, spinning you around before placing you back down, caressing your cheek fondly. 

“I know you’ll be great! Now go and show them that you’re my girl. Good luck, Shorty.” 

“Fuck you, Taesan.” You giggle, slapping his arm playfully at his teasing remark. 

“You can but after you perform. I’m on in a bit too. So how about tonight? We can have a celebratory fuck.” He raises his eyebrows, nudging you as you hide behind your hands. 

“We’re in public for God sake! Stop messing around.” 

“Who said I’m messing around?” 

“Ugh. You’re lucky I love you.”

“Indeed I am.” 

“Y/n, you’re up. Make your way to your starting position please.” The runner calls out as you give Taesan one last hug before making your way onto the stage. 

His mischievous smile removed you of all your nerves, leaving you instead with confidence that you’ll perform your piece to the best of your ability, which you did considering you came 2nd place in ballet out of 32 dance schools across the country. Moreover, Taesan won first place for street dance, having you both jumping around in your tight hug. 

“I guess we do deserve a good fuck after this then. I’m so proud of us,” he taunts, as you nudge his shoulder. 

“I guess we do,” you reply, running off as he chased behind you, catch you by your waist and wrestling you down onto the couch in your changing room. 

His eyes scan the room to make sure the door behind you was closed as he whispers, “Do you think you can wait or do you wanna let me fuck you now?” 

“Now? Are you kidding?” 

“Well, yeah. As long as you stay quiet.” 

[jiraisupportgroup]

Important Update:

It has been brought to my attention by several people that there was / is a blog that is impersonating me and posting very hateful & harmful things aimed at the jiraiblr community. This blog had a username very similar to this one (jiraiisupportgroup and then jiiraisupportgroup both with double “i”s at different points in the username) they copied my profile picture, header image, blog description, pinned post(?), and even went as far as to copy anonymous asks I have been sent and send them to themselves to reply to to create confusion and trick people into thinking that blog was me.

In light of this I want to make a few things clear:

- This blog is a side blog. It cannot follow you, it cannot like posts, and it cannot send asks. All of those things would instead link to my main blog. If any blog that looks like this one ever follows you, likes one of your posts, or sends you an ask please block them immediately.

- If this blog does get terminated for whatever reason, any back-up blogs to replace this one will be made as another side blog. So please know this warning to block any blog that looks like this one if they follow you, like one of your posts, or send you an ask will never change.

- In the event that this blog is ever terminated, the first few posts of any replacement blog will be proof that it is actually me. What this details I am not entire sure of at this exact moment, and likely will not share to avoid the case of another disgusting copy-cat.

I want to give so much thanks to @bpdgrrrl1312 @bl0odied-kittypaw @criminaldoenjangjjigae @twistedsweetheart @sakiyaki-sashimi @oneeyawn @jiraikasa-kun as well as any others I may have missed (and all the anons who contacted me) for bringing this first of all to my attention, but more importantly to everyone’s attention. Thank you all so much for spreading awareness about this impersonator, and for helping distance myself from the horrible horrible things this person was saying.

As far as I can tell at the moment it appears that the blog is deleted? (Can anyone help me confirm?) But I will keep an eye and ear out to make sure, and update everyone if they pop up again. Thank you all so much for reporting this blog while I was not online for the night T-T not only for myself but also for the jiraiblr community as a whole.

It really hurts my heart and sickens me to know that someone impersonated my blog to spew hatred and vitriol. I did not get to see a majority of the things the blog did post (I saw screenshots of maybe 2 or 3 of the posts), so I can’t even imagine what else they were saying (especially to get banned so quickly because tumblr typically does not ban accounts very fast).

If this blog targeted you or even if you had the misfortune of seeing this blog, I am so deeply sorry. Please know that no matter what this person may have said you are loved, you are important, you are valid, and you deserve to be safe and feel welcome. I truly believe that, and I am so sorry that anyone tried to make you feel otherwise.

I am sending all of you so much love and as much support as I can ♡ I know many of us are stressed going into holiday season and this whole situation did not help with that. From what I can gather you all handled it quite well and for that I am so so appreciative. ₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊ love all of you so much and I am sending everyone the warmest wishes and happiest days I possibly can ♡ ♡ ♡

[potatomountain]

CIY CH 23

Chapter Twenty-Three

📍Pairing: detective ateez ot8 x detective afab reader 📍Summary: "Made for you" 📍WC: 3.1k 📍AU: detective/mafia 📍Genre: action, dark themes, poly romance 📍Warning(s): 18+ rating, some angst, suggestive 📍Nets: @pirateeznet | @mirohs-aurora-society 📍Beta readers (and sole motivation): @flurrys-creativity , @candypop1611 , @yourfatherlucifer , @skteezcursed and edited(usually) by the amazing: @daemour 📍dividers made by: @cafekitsune

masterlist | Previous | Next

The two of you shared a moment before you pulled away, finding the spark of tenderness in his eyes alarming. Despite the trust you just spoke of, it was still hard to lean into it without anxiety.

Others had shown you tenderness.

“So, you said you wanted to know my feelings right? Now that everything is on the table.” You glanced down at your drink, only for your eyes to flicker up when you thought he flinched- but his expression was the same, just a new tilt to his head.

“Right right. Though I think I understand already, Angel. We're growing on you aren't we? But you're scared? After the way your last unit handled things, I can understand that-”

You sighed when he trailed off. “But not entirely huh?” At his nod, you know it's your turn to indulge some personal information. “It was more than just a betrayal of comrades. I was close with them, considered them family. Mingi didn't… he didn't tell you all?”

He shook his head, his undivided attention on you now, listening with encouragement that was making this talk a bit easier. “He said a few choice things about Captain Chan but otherwise didn't go into details why his negative feelings were so strong. We assumed he just felt that strongly about you, considering he admitted to punching him and pretending to be your boyfriend during an altercation.” The corners of his lips turned up vaguely, which you assumed was due to your own flustered expression.

You were touched by Mingi's feelings, remembering his many attempts to prove he did like you and wanted you. As well as the fact that he hadn’t seemed to give up details about your harsh rejection, just how he had stepped in and played the rough hero you hadn't wanted but needed. “I see… I owe him an apology then. I assumed he had told you all about what happened.”

“Camera in the hall. We have Mingi bring women there because we can get surveillance footage of it all up to when He takes them inside. So… Yeosang indulged a bit and we didn't give Mingi a choice. Though he didn't go into details…”

You sighed, somewhat appeased. “Yunho made a comment… So I assumed.”

“Ah, Yunho is a different story. Those two tell each other everything. They grew up together. Would you be comfortable telling me?” It was the fact he was asking, putting your comfort first, that eased your nerves enough.

So you told him, recounting the story with a detached tone to make it easier on yourself. You told him of how you confessed to Chan supposedly, how the next time you saw him he served you with the transfer papers. You told him of your outburst immediately after, demanding the others to tell you who agreed you should transfer since Chan said it was a team decision. Minho, you're best friend had agreed and he hasn't contacted you. And then there was Felix.

That's how you were banned from contact because of the hell you raised. Changbin had to remove you from the office with some uniforms, an ugly sight. The man had no doubt sported a bruise or two on his face afterwards.

You told him about Felix, how you were sure you had loved him, and that you couldn't have faulted him for it. He thought he was looking out for you. Always sweet intentions.

You ended the story with the altercation in front of your apartment, playing with the empty beverage cup and unable to keep the emotion in your tone as you told him of Chan's confession before Mingi stepped in.

Silence followed, the air heavy and weighing down on your shoulders. The longer it lasted, the more anxious you became until you finally sparred a glance at him. After pouring your heart out, figuratively, pure undiluted anger was not what you expected to see on his face.

“Angel… I-” He started off, gaping like a fish as he seemed to struggle with what to say. The way his expression hardened like cold steel, eyes still burning with that ire as he glanced behind you, had you shifting to turn. “Don't turn around. You have some bad luck it seems.”

You were quite confused until you heard it, heard them. “Chan, that's not what I'm saying at all.”

“Then what are you implying Minho?” The sound of chairs scraping behind you slid up your spine like nails on a chalkboard. “First her, then Hyunjin, now Felix. I'm losing the hold on the unit.” The familiar gruff voice told you just how stressed he was, and you knew he hadn't been sleeping again.

Guilt grabbed at you as if this was your fault, hands bracing on the table to stand up and leave because like hell you wanted to stick around and listen to this. To let them hurt you even more.

Yet Seonghwa's hand reached out and grabbed your wrist, shaking your head and bringing a finger to his lips. Whatever game he wanted to play, while it confused you, your hands relaxed and you stayed silent.

“Hyunjin will come around, he always does, he cares for Felix and the rest. He made it no secret he was unhappy about the transfer. And Felix… he'll listen to you. You just have to talk to him- properly this time.” Minho urged, his voice closest to you.

“Because I do that so fucking well. You told me everything would work out if I put in the transfer request, Min. But why haven't you talked to her either?” A beat of silence. “Yes I'm aware you haven't reached out. Hyunjin was loud about that when I pushed Felix for answers. You're her best friend, why are you silent? Did you fuck this up on purpose? I trusted you when you said I could have her this way.”

Panic surged through you at this revelation; is this why Minho hadn't talked to you? Your whole transfer was his idea? Why? You had believed he had known you best, that he would have been on your side. That, just maybe, he hadn't talked to you because he was just giving you space?

This betrayal hit harder than Chan's.

“I thought she would understand. You received enough warnings about her, they were going to take action against the whole unit at that rate.” Minho sneered out, the edge in his tone snapping you out of the dizzying spell the pain had you under.

Chan scoffed. “Please, you didn't want her to get in the way of your career. I know the higher ups talk down on you, even when they are bad mouthing her they still recognize her drive. You were in her shadow and-”

Seonghwa slammed his hands on the table, standing up now. He glared at the two behind you with such a menacing fury it snapped you out of the spiral in your mind and gave him all of your undivided attention. Especially when he growled out your name. 

He moved around the table and pulled you up by your waist. You were captivated by the wrath radiating off of him when you realized it was entirely on your behalf. “Vi-”

He shut you up with a harsh kiss, pulling you fully onto your feet with the motion. The sounds Chan and Minho made noticing your presence were distant noises to your own thoughts at Seonghwa's kiss. You could feel his anger, but also his desire for you with every harsh stroke of his lips. Heat flooded your body, drowning out the cold betrayal that had settled in the pit of your stomach a moment ago.

The groan he let out when you kissed back went right to your core. For a quick moment he deepened it, grip on your waist tightening enough to pull a moan out of your lips. It was that sound that had him pulling away, but only his lips to glare back at the other two. “Your trash, our treasure.”

It left you spinning, the emotion ringing in those words as he dragged you out of the cafe. You hadn't even bothered to look back at them, staring up at Seonghwa instead with a plethora of emotions on your open expression.

Seonghwa chuckled as he pulled you over to his motorbike; it was a dark and unhinged sound that added to the growing cotton in your head. He had just shown you how caring and sweet he could be: respectful even. And then the anger- you couldn't really untangle the mess of emotions that had you feeling, just that you didn't dislike it.

And there was a touch of horniness there. Well… that's interesting.

Seonghwa once more jostled you out of your thoughts as he lifted you up onto the bike facing him, stepping closer to slot himself between your open legs. You glanced up at him, once more with your thoughts and emotions worn on your features as you were still figuratively reeling. “Vice?”

“Call me by my name- no my nickname Angel.” He said as he leaned forward, pressing his lips to the apples of your cheeks, then the tip of your nose, forehead, and finally lips. “And tell me not to go in there and get violent.”

You couldn't help the gasp that left your lips, immediately getting swallowed by him in what felt like a desperate kiss. He had just told you he was a peacekeeper, a negotiator of sorts, so for him to say he wanted to be violent?

“Hwa-” It fell from your lips like a soft caress, your arms wrapping around his neck to pull him closer against you, “-Don't go in there and get violent.”

Despite doing what he said, he protested with a pout, lips trailing along your jaw to your neck. “Why not? They hurt you. Absolute scum. Treated you like trash when you're so… so much more than them. They lost a good fucking thing.” His angry words were paired with little bites and nibbles, grip tight on your ass now As he pressed the length of his torso against yours.

It warmed your heart, and turned you on even more. “Th-they deserve your anger, Hwa. Would rather- ah fuck- rather have you like this.” He had found your sweet spot, melting you further against him as his lips attacked it once more with a soft bite. “Hwa~ please I-”

Tugging at his hair to pull away, you tugged on it harder when you heard those two familiar voices calling out to you. He delatched himself from you, quickly turning you on the bike and pulling the helmet on. “Time to go.” Voice still gruff as he pulled his own helmet on.

He started up the bike just as the two reached you, this time you allowed yourself to look. Chan looked pale, distraught, tears in his eyes you weren't going to acknowledge. But Minho- it was the first time you saw him in nearly two months and he too looked ragged… and angry. But he always looked angry when he was upset about something, even if it wasn't you, so you didn't think about that either.

Instead, as the bike beneath you roared to life drowning their words, you gave them the bird as you latched onto Seonghwa’s waist with your other arm. He drove off in the next second, speeding through the streets to leave them both behind. Both literally and figuratively.

They weren't your unit anymore, especially those two. 

Seonghwa dropped you off at the club soon enough, the bike still running as you got off and handed him the helmet. You used the ride to really think about what had happened, what Seonghwa proved to you. 

You tapped on his helmet, asking him in a roundabout way to take it off. He shook his head in reply. So with a bit of a pout, you kissed the visor where you guessed his cheek would be. “Thank you for today Hwa. I appreciate it. You'll be picking me up?”

He nodded.

Smiling, you fixed your hair. “Then I'd like to continue later if we can.” With a wink you turned and headed inside.

Minho's betrayal felt like a distant memory now, wrapping yourself into work and looking forward to seeing the Vice-Captain again. 

You had loved Chan, loved Felix, but neither of them, or anyone else you knew, made you feel like this.

Seen. Respected. Cared for. Supported. Wanted. All of that and genuinely. 

Well, no one before this unit. Wooyoung popped up in your head. So did Hongjoong. San, Yeosang, and Mingi too, to an extent. There were moments with them all that had you feeling like this.

As if you weren't fully alone. In those moments you had felt like you could let your walls down, let them in, and feel loved and accepted as a whole.

Seonghwa had you feeling like that again when he picked you up, quiet on the ride back but once he was parked in front of your apartment again, he was a gentleman. He took your helmet off first, then his, and immediately pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Were you okay today Angel?”

You knew he wasn't talking about the work, but what happened. “Surprisingly… yeah. And I think that's because of you.”

His eyes went wide as he cupped your face, pupils shining in the lowlight from the street lamp. “What do you mean?”

Suddenly flustered, you tried to look away. Ah, feelings and admitting them: two things you struggled with. “I mean… the way you reacted, to what I told you and to them, was uh… oddly comforting? I didn't feel… well it's kinda like-”

He chuckled softly, placing a hand on the small of your back. “Take a moment to think about that but I think I know what you mean.”

“You do?” You looked up at him as he lead you inside, letting you put in the code before stepping in. 

“Yeah. I uh, don't get along with my parents. Didn't follow in the family footsteps. It's a choice I made alone and it was scary, I didn't really have anyone who would understand my situation either… until I met Hongjoong. I told him about it, when I found out they are setting my sister up to be married off to, well, one of the underworld. He got angry, but not at me. It was the first time I saw him so furious as well.” He sighed, walking you up the stairs, taking his time to just talk with you.

You caught on to the vital piece of information he dropped, realizing that while Seonghwa’s parents had Golden Circle connections, he was working hard to take them down. He had something at stake here, making him the fourth- no fifth one in the unit who had some tie to the underworld. 

Your vendetta against Taejin Hwon felt so small in comparison.

But you also noticed the fondness that settled over his features at the memories he brought up, an adorable curve to his lips and a soft light in his eyes at the mention of Hongjoong's anger specifically.

He cared for Hongjoong deeply, and you admired that about them; felt a bit jealous even.

“He was angry for me, because it hurt me, and it was the first time in a while I didn't feel so alone. It was comforting, and the weight on my shoulders was a little less debilitating.” Stopping in front of your door, he turned to you fully. “And it seems this was that moment for you… am I right?”

“Y-yeah. I mean I've had people get angry for me before, to an extent but this felt… different.” You couldn't meet his eyes, feeling unnaturally shy for once. Perhaps it was due to the amount of vulnerable moments you've had with him today; opening up in a way that took even Hyunjin a while to get out of you. 

You couldn't forget Han and Felix, he'll even Changbin and the two younger ones- they all had moments you knew they genuinely cared. But this was different. Seonghwa, and this unit was different. You just couldn't put your finger on it.

“Talk with San tonight, maybe tell him what you told me?” Seonghwa offered, lifting your chin so you would meet his eyes again. “Can I have your permission to confide today with Hongjoong? Only the details you want told of course, I wouldn't-”

“You can tell him everything.” You blurted out, grasping onto the bravery and courage you usually had and pulling it to the surface. “I trust you Seonghwa, more than I'd like to admit right now but… if you trust Hongjoong enough you get all doe eyed when you talk about him, then I trust he is as trustworthy of this information as you are.” 

Seonghwa blushed at that, a beautiful sight to behold, before he buried his reddening cheeks against your shoulder. “You are… truly a treasure.”

Now it was your turn to get flustered. “Hwa… will you come inside?”

“Want to… but can't.”

“Why not?” Your fingers carded through his hair, pout in your tone.

He hummed softly, leaning in closer. “Because if I come in right now I won't leave so easily. And I have somewhere to be before the sun rises.” When you whined again, he pressed a soft kiss to your collarbone before stepping back. “Sorry Angel.”

He left a moment later, and nearly an hour later you were calling up San while laying in bed, freshly showered.

“Finally! I thought you forgot about me sweetcheeks.” His voice in your ear had you flustered. 

“I just needed a little extra courage to call. Are you doing okay?”

“I'm fine… Why the extra courage?”

“No reason in particular, just, wasn't ready to talk about what happened in the gym. Especially since I know they know.”

You heard him hiss, picturing him physically flinching at your words. “I'm sorry about that I-”

“It’s alright. I know it was Yeosang. I'll be talking to him later about it. For now. I miss you. Is it okay to just talk?”

And you did. You told him, surprisingly, everything. About Wooyoung, the job, Seonghwa, and of your old unit. He listened, even reacted much like Seonghwa did.

You felt it again. That sense you were loved, that you weren't alone… but this time you figured it out.

It felt like you were finally home. 

And as San said, once again, you were perfect for them- You thought it went both ways. They were made for you.

Taglist (Capped): @mingsolo | @wowie-hockey | @crispybaguettes | @tiny-apocalypse

| @philijack | @lelaleleb | @isiloiale | @vannabanana1995  | @piratequeen-queenofgames

| @starstruckforyou | @minheeskitten | @amphiroxx  | @cloudysannie | @sugarnspice630

| @sanhwalvr | @plutoneu |  @sousydive |  @fatalt | @iwishiwasrichasfuck

| @bitchwhytho | @st4rhwa | @thesafecafe | @alextheweeb7 | @ddaeing

Taglist will be continued in a reblog!!

[lagomoz]

Proseka headcanons

-as rui’s childhood friend, nene has extensive fire safety knowledge

-shizuku is adopted, hence why she looks so different from shiho. she was adopted shortly before the moon rabbit event and it contributed to her clinginess

-shiho forgets this fact sometimes. she’ll casually mention something like shizuku got all mom’s good genes so unfair and ichika has to be. um. shiho

-kanade is mildly nearsighted/myopic but spends so much time at her computer she hasn’t noticed

-emu is buff. she climbs multiple stories without breaking a sweat and is canonically part of the swimming, handball and rhythmic gymnastic clubs, you can’t tell me she doesn’t have some muscle

-saki helps out as a human notepad for tsukasa, reminding of him things he would otherwise forget within 5 minutes

-the vocaloids also help. at first it was unnerving to have hatsune miku be an extension of his psyche that knows his darkest secret (stole saki’s candy when he was 6) but now his phone has a more reliable catgirl themed reminder system

-you know that classic nightmare of leaving the house without pants? tsukasa has legitimately done that as a kid. he forgor. (saki will never let him live it down)

-in the kamiyama student council/hall monitor room, an has put up at sign saying “_ days since last kamishiro incident”

-the shinonome siblings both figured out the other one was gay before they figured it out about themselves

-airi’s great at trivia from her time as a variety show star. she still can’t beat minori at idol trivia, though

-ena keeps a diary with fort knox level security. try to read it and you’ll lose a finger

-saki learned to crochet from the old ladies in the hospital

-shiho’s most treasured phenny is a somewhat lumpy crocheted phenny holding a very lumpy crocheted bass guitar

-tsukasa snores. he falls asleep in 10 seconds and sounds like a dying lawnmower

-mizuki has learned a small bit of french from their sister and uses it exclusively to teach rui and an how to swear in french

-emu still celebrates her grandfather’s birthday, even if he’s not there to celebrate with her

-ena is allergic to dogs, the middle point to airi’s cat allergy and akito’s dog phobia

-rui has various small scars from his experiments over the years, but nobody ever believes the real causes (rocket launcher, robot bite, exploding balloon animal, etc.) so he just makes up a new cause every time someone asks

-mmj! has had repeated incidents of minori and airi’s little siblings walking into frame when streaming at their houses. shiho understands the concept of a livestream but has still been caught failing at creeping past like that one new broadcast of the guy crawling along the floor

-kanade has pots & eds, this one I have a reason for look at her symptoms. chronic exhaustion, heat and cold intolerance, comorbid sleep issues and depression, dizziness when standing up, fainting after standing up, very pale skin, family history of medical issues, pain at normal physical activities, exercise intolerance, vertigo at mild exertion, she just fucking dies during the entire baseball event, I could go on. she canonically gets pain in her hands from opening a jar girl that is not just being out of shape that is physical disability. this one I will go conspiracy board on listen to me I’m right

-kohane ate bugs as a kid. an is horrified, toya is confused, akito is impressed

-ena and airi got in trouble in middle school because they’d keep starting fist fights in defense of the others honor. if they saw the other in a fight they’d jump in guns blazing no hesitation no questions ask ready to throw the fuck down

-vbs!rin and len were given a skateboard by an and then promptly had the skateboard confiscated by meiko for property destruction

-haruka is horrible with slang. she asks the stream chat what poggers means and immediately uses it completely wrong, killing all viewers on impact

-minori is torn between thinking it’s cute and wanting to die

-toya has been banned from arcades before because he made them lose too much money/they suspected he was cheating

-ena brought kanade over for girls night and nearly scared akito half to death because he went down to get a late night snack and there was some Ghastly Creature looming in his kitchen

-kohane's parents stick out like a sore thumb when going to her live shows. it mortifies her that everyone on vivid street can recognize them as the only milquetoast middle aged couple dressed in normal clothes loudly going YOU'RE DOING GREAT SWEETIE that don't know the first thing about music

-minori knows basic programming. she mostly uses it for forums, blogs, html, other web design things usually related to idols as a hobby, but she's become the groups designated anti-shizuku tech support

-mafuyu has always been able to see ghosts but after adults figured she was just playing pretend as a kid so she shrugged and figured it was normal and not worth bringing up again

-honami has one of those massive extended families and somehow keeps track of them all. at any given time cousin #57 can crawl out of the woodwork and she remembers their new job, favorite food, past three romantic relationships and list of allergic reactions

-mizuki does doll customizing as a hobby. they prefer making human sized clothes, but it's fun to make them miniature too. they've introduced shizuku to it and she loves it, but doesn't have the heart to do anything that would hurt the doll (sawing limbs off, dunking them in boiling water, shoving wires in them, etc.)

[vroombeams]

oh, OH, kee, please please please, if lando + 28 with whomever or on his own is anything, i'll be ever in your debt 🩷

from this prompt list - curse of obedience

"It'll only last the day," Jon tells him as he passes the bottle over. "Probably only just a bit past the race."

It's meant to be reassuring, but Lando's not assured. Re- or otherwise. The bottle's unlabeled, as tall as his thumb, full to the brim with a pearlescent-green fluid that looks vaguely radioactive. Might even actually be. Who can tell, with witch stuff?

He's never really bought into the whole magick thing. It's never really come up, considering most of this stuff is explicitly banned in Formula 1. But somehow Andrea or Zak or someone even more upper-level has gotten the clearance for this one. Pocioun of Obedience, the release form'd called it.

Why's it spelled that way, anyway? Witches. Bunch of freaks.

"Surely this isn't legal," Lando mutters, rolling the bottle between his hands. As if he hasn't brought this up a thousand times already.

"Unfortunately, it is," Jon says. He does sound appropriately regretful. At least he'll be around to keep Lando out of any questionable hands. "Just get it down, you'll be alright."

Like it's that simple.

Lando pops the cork. It smells a bit like marshmallows, something like liquorice when he brings it closer to his mouth. It doesn't taste all that bad either. Vague and sweet, thick on the tongue and warm on the way down his throat. It heats him up pleasantly from the inside. Doesn't feel all that bad, really. Did it even work? He doesn't feel—

"Stand up," Jon says.

Lando stands up.

Well. Shit and also fuck.

"Touch your toes," Jon says, and Lando does.

"So freaking weird," Lando says, folded in half, face buried in his knees.

Jon laughs, and says, "Alright, you're all good."

He straightens up without having to be told. He knows in theory how it'll work—Will, over the radio, will be able to give him solid orders and he'll have to obey. But it'll slip off once he's told something along those lines, given the okay. Carry on, Lando. You're alright.

He doesn't understand the mechanics of it, really, nor does he think it's really necessary. But the team can't afford another Hungary. No matter how many times Lando's promised to be good this time around.

"C'mere," Jon says, and Lando's across the room before he can think. Jon's grinning up at him, too overjoyed to be anything but endearing. "Give us a kiss." He taps his cheek, and Lando bends to kiss it.

"Would've done without the frickin' potion," Lando mutters, while Jon laughs up at him.

He nearly forgets that he's taken the potion—excuse him, pocioun—by the time he's getting ready to head out on track. He's gotten through media and all the other pre-race bits without any incident at all, which, as Jon keeps saying, is nothing short of miraculous.

Jon's run off to have a piss, and commanded him to stay out in the hall. Like an asshole. So Lando's just stood here staring at the wall, palms itching. He wants to stretch, do a jumping jack or ten, anything but stand here. But Jon's exact words had been just stand right here. So. He's just standing. Right here.

It immediately puts him on guard when Oscar rounds the corner. Racesuit down around his hips, water bottle in one hand, tugging at the collar of his fireproofs with the other.

This is the worst case scenario, Lando thinks. He doesn't know if Oscar's still pissed at him about the team orders debacle. This is not the time to sort all that out, probably.

Oscar stops, just a few feet away. Looks Lando up and down.

"How's it feel?"

Lando's brain goes to about seven thousand different places before he realizes Oscar means the potion.

"Oh," he says, shifting uncomfortably. He can move his feet, but not much else. "Not much different than normal, really."

Oscar's gaze sharpens, tightens up like a harness. Lando's chest does something similar.

"But you did take it," Oscar says.

"Yeah," Lando says, feebly.

Oscar says, "Get on your knees."

Lando gets on his knees. Shit. Shit and fuck and also hell. What's he gotten himself into? What is Oscar going to do to him?

What Oscar is going to do, apparently, is stare silently down at Lando for a long, long minute. The sort of sleepy ambivalence Lando's used to from him has taken a sharp turn into something more powerful, something more threatening. Oscar takes a step closer. Close enough that Lando can smell the garage on him, hot metal and fuel. The vague spice of his deodorant hovers somewhere under all of that.

Swimming under or in or alongside the fear, Lando thinks: this could be kind of hot. Oscar's hot. The situation is hot, minus the whole actually-can't-disobey-at-all bit. And even that could be hot, with some ground rules.

There are no rules, though. None that Oscar's obligated to follow.

Oscar smiles, then. This crooked little thing that's sharper than Lando's used to.

"See you on track," Oscar says, and turns, and just fucking leaves Lando there. On his knees. On the fucking floor. Stuck here, until Jon comes along and saves him.

Jesus Christ. What the fuck was that?

[mostlysignssomeportents]

The "religious liberty" angle for overturning the overturning of Dobbs

Frank Wilhoit’s definition of “conservativism” remains a classic:

There must be in-groups whom the law protects but does not bind, alongside out-groups whom the law binds but does not protect.

https://crookedtimber.org/2018/03/21/liberals-against-progressives/#comment-729288

Conservativism is, in other words, the opposite of the rule of law, which is the idea that the law applies equally to all. Many of America’s most predictably weird moments live in the tension between the rule of law and the conservative’s demand to be protected — but not bound — by the law.

Think of the Republican women of Florida whose full-throated support for the perfomatively cruel and bigoted policies of Ron Desantis turned to howls of outrage when the governor signed a law “overhauling alimony” (for “overhauling,” read “eliminating”):

https://www.orlandoweekly.com/news/this-is-a-death-sentence-for-me-florida-republican-women-say-they-will-switch-parties-after-desantis-approves-alimony-law-34563230

This is real leopards-eating-people’s-faces-party stuff, and it’s the only source of mirth in an otherwise grim situation.

But out of the culture-war bullshit backfires, none is so sweet and delicious as the religious liberty self-own. You see, under the rule of law, if some special consideration is owed to a group due to religious liberty, that means all religions. Of course, Wilhoit-drunk conservatives imagine that “religious liberty” is a synonym for Christian liberty, and that other groups will never demand the same carve outs.

Remember when Louisiana decided spend tax dollars to fund “religious” schools under a charter school program, only to discover — to their Islamaphobic horror — that this would allow Muslim schools to get public subsidies, too?

https://www.huffpost.com/entry/louisiana_n_1593995

(They could have tried the Quebec gambit, where hijabs and yarmulkes are classed as “religious” and therefore banned for public servants and publicly owned premises, while crosses are treated as “cultural” and therefore exempted — that’s some primo Wilhoitism right there)

https://www.cbc.ca/news/canada/montreal/quebec-francois-legault-crucifix-religious-symbols-1.4858757

The Satanic Temple has perfected the art of hoisting religious liberty on its own petard. Are you a state lawmaker hoping to put a giant Ten Commandments on the statehouse lawn? Go ahead, have some religious liberty — just don’t be surprised when the Satanic Temple shows up to put a giant statue of Baphomet next to it:

https://www.npr.org/2018/08/17/639726472/satanic-temple-protests-ten-commandments-monument-with-goat-headed-statue

Wanna put a Christmas tree in the state capitol building? Sure, but there’s gonna be a Satanic winter festival display right next to it:

https://katv.com/news/offbeat/satanic-temple-display-installed-at-illinois-capitol-next-to-nativity-scene-menorah-decorations-snake-serpent-satanic-temple-springfield-christmas-tree

And now we come to Dobbs, and the cowardly, illegitimate Supreme Court’s cowardly, illegitimate overturning of Roe v Wade, a move that was immediately followed by “red” states implementing total, or near-total bans on abortion:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/06/15/paid-medical-disinformation/#crisis-pregnancy-centers

These same states are hotbeds of “religious liberty” nonsense. In about a dozen of these states, Jews, Christians, and Satanists are filing “religious liberty” challenges to the abortion ban. In Indiana, the Hoosier Jews For Choice have joined with other religious groups in a class action, to argue that the “religious freedom” law that Mike Pence signed as governor protects their right to an abortion:

https://www.politico.com/news/2023/06/21/legal-strategy-that-could-topple-abortion-bans-00102468

Their case builds on precedents from the covid lockdowns, like decisions that said that if secular exceptions to lockdown rules or vaccine mandates existed, then states had to also allow religious exemptions. That opens the door for religious exemptions to abortion bans — if there’s a secular rule that permits abortion in the instance of incest or rape, then faith-based exceptions must be permitted, too.

Some of the challenges to abortion rules seek to carve out religious exemptions, but others seek to overturn the abortion rules altogether, because the lawmakers who passed them explicitly justified them in the name of fusing Christian “values” with secular law, a First Amendment no-no.

As Rabbi James Bennett told Politico’s Alice Ollstein: “They’re entitled to their interpretation of when life begins, but they’re not entitled to have the exclusive one.”

In Florida, a group of Jewish, Buddhist, Episcopalian, Universalists and United Church clerics are challenging the “aiding and abetting” law because it restricts the things they can say from the pulpit — a classic religious liberty gambit.

Kentucky’s challenge comes from three Jewish women whose faith holds that life begins “with the first breath.” Lead plaintiff Lisa Sobel described how Kentucky’s law bars her from seeking IVF treatment, because she could face criminal charges for “discarding non-viable embryos” created during the process.

Then there’s the Satanic Temple, in court in Texas, Idaho and Indiana. The Satanists say that abortion is a religious ritual, and argue that the state can’t limit their access to it.

These challenges all rest on state religious liberty laws. What will happen when some or all of these reach the Supreme Court? It’s a risky gambit. This is the court that upheld Trump’s Muslim ban and the right of a Christian baker to refuse to bake a wedding cake for a same-sex couple. It’s a court that loves Wilhoit’s “in-groups whom the law protects but does not bind, alongside out-groups whom the law binds but does not protect.”

It’s a court that’s so Wilhoit-drunk, it’s willing to grant religious liberty to bigots who worry about imaginary same-sex couples:

https://newrepublic.com/article/173987/mysterious-case-fake-gay-marriage-website-real-straight-man-supreme-court

But in the meantime, the bigots and religious maniacs who want to preserve “religious liberty” while banning abortion are walking a fine line. The Becket Fund, which funded the Hobby Lobby case (establishing that religious maniacs can deny health care to their employees if their imaginary friends object), has filed a brief in one case arguing that the religious convictions of people arguing for a right to abortion aren’t really sincere in their beliefs:

https://becketnewsite.s3.amazonaws.com/20230118184008/Individual-Members-v.-Anonymous-Planitiff-Amicus-Brief.pdf

This is quite a line for Becket to have crossed — religious liberty trufans hate it when courts demand that people seeking religious exemptions prove that their beliefs are sincerely held.

Not only is Becket throwing its opposition to “sincerely held belief” tests under the bus, they’re doing so for nothing. Jewish religious texts clearly state that life begins at the first breath, and that the life of a pregnant person takes precedence over the life of the fetus in their uterus.

The kicker in Ollstein’s great article comes in the last paragraph, delivered by Columbia Law’s Elizabeth Reiner Platt, who runs the Law, Rights, and Religion Project:

The idea of reproductive rights as a religious liberty issue is absolutely not something that came from lawyers. It’s how faith communities themselves have been talking about their approach to reproductive rights for literally decades.

The Clarion Science Fiction Writers’ Workshop (I’m a grad, instructor and board member) is having its fundraiser auction to help defray tuition. I’ve donated a “Tuckerization” — the right to name a character in a future novel:

https://www.indiegogo.com/projects/clarion-sf-fantasy-writers-workshop-23-campaign/#/

If you’d like an essay-formatted version of this thread to read or share, here’s a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/07/11/wilhoitism/#hoosier-jews

[Image ID: Moses parting the Red Sea. On the seabed is revealed a Planned Parenthood clinic.]

Image: Nina Paley (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Moses-Splits-Sea_by_Nina_Paley.jpg

CC0 1.0 https://creativecommons.org/publicdomain/zero/1.0/deed.en

 — 

Kristina D.C. Hoeppner (modified) https://www.flickr.com/photos/4nitsirk/40406966752/

CC BY-SA 2.0: https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0/

[royalarchivist]

Fit: It would, um... Uh, how should I put this... It would be like a date. Because... um... gosto de você.

Pac: [Delighted laugh] Gosto de mim?

Fit: Uh yeah. I'm s– did I butcher that? I'm sorry.

Pac: No no no no no no no! It was good! It goes: gosto de voce também.

Fit: Oh. [Laughs] Um yeah. But uh, I just– just think you're cool and I– Tuesday if you wanna– yeah! I got something cool that I think you might like. Is all.

Pac: To be honest with you, I never had a date in my 10 year life in Minecraft.

Fit: Yeah, you know, I've– I don't– I've never had a date in Minecraft either, now that I think about it. [Laughs]

Happy 1 year Anniversary to Fit confessing to Pac and asking him out on a date! 💕🌹

[ Full Transcript ↓ ]

—

Pac: Yeah, Tuesday sounds great!

Fit: It would, um... Uh, how should I put this... It would be like a date.

Pac: Oh! It would– [Realizes] Ohhhhhhh

Fit: Because... um... gosto de você.

Pac: [Delighted laugh] Gosto de mim?

Fit: Uh yeah. I'm s– did I butcher that? I'm sorry.

Pac: No no no no no no no! It was good! It goes: gosto de voce também.

Fit: Oh. [Laughs] Um yeah. But uh, I just– just think you're cool and I– Tuesday if you wanna– yeah! I got something cool that I think you might like. Is all.

Pac: No, yeah yeah!

Ramon: [Audibly takes a photo]

Pac: [Laughs] Ramon! Can I hide behind the bench just like you? [Laughs]

Fit: [Laughs]

Pac: You know, I think you're cool too Fit, you know? I'm down for the- for the date you said on Tuesday, you know. I– to be honest with you? Like, I never had a date in my 10 year life in Minecraft, you know?

Fit: Yeah, you know, I've– I don't– I've never had a date in Minecraft either, yeah, actually, now that I think about it. Yeah, so it– [Laughs] Well, hey! I mean, may– you know, I bet it'd be cool!

Pac: Yeah, you know– you know, I– I- when you- when you started like, giggling, I thought you would say like– [Deep voice as he leans into the mic] "In the oldest anarchy server in Minecraft!"

[They both laugh]

—

Not included in the clip, but they have this fun little exchange immediately after this scene:

Pac: I hope that date is not on 2b2t, you know? Otherwise I'm gonna be scared as fck.

Fit: No, it is not– it is not gonna be on 2b2t! No, don't worry.

Pac: [Laughs]

Fit: That would be... That would be... No.

Pac: That would be– right? That would be something!

Fit: If- if it was on 2b2t, we would be both banned from Twitch, so no, it will not be on 2b2t. [...] Plus, a bunch of fire and destruction and a bunch of hate is not... the most appropriate place for a date, you know? So...

[werywrenniethoughts]

"Security Alert!! Security Alert!!!"

Allow me to overanalyze this ONE line and its implications if you don't mind.

Sun shouts this immediately after throwing Gregory out of the daycare. Instantly, every other main animatronic we've encountered up to this point is there, ready to grab Gregory. Their only deterrent is Glamrock Freddy. (However, it's worth noting he was "unable to reach" Gregory until that moment to prove my point.)

GUYS, I think we just got a glimpse at what could have been a standard MegaPizzaPlex emergency protocol. It's the equivalent of a panic button. JUST IMAGINE: There's a parent or relative attempting to swipe a kid from the daycare during a separation, child abuse case, etc. Sun gets that unruly person out of the daycare and sounds the alarm. All the main animatronics are then priority directed to come to the daycare to neutralize the threat while Sun protects the little ones inside. FazBear Entertainment may be shady, but I'd like to think they've come a long way at this point in the series to avoid SOME liability situations.

Even Moon is the most aggressive he is within the game directly after this moment. If you step out of Freddy on purpose or by accident (which, I did lol), Moon insta-kills you. No countdown, no warning, no idling with his cool moves. Straight up ENDS you the second you're on the ground. Normally, you're perfectly fine to walk around Moon whether you're in Freddy or not up until you hit the hour.

Sun calls someone to get you again if you attempt to go down the slide after being banned, too. In that case, I've only ever seen it be Monty pre-shattering, but I don't think anyone has tried to shatter him before Chica, so I am unsure if this would change who comes to stop you. If Monty has already been defeated, it seems to just not do anything.

(Not directly related, but, Freddy's speech explaining how the Attendant is free to roam the building when the lights are out also implies that otherwise, he is NOT allowed to leave the daycare. He is the one who WILL find you if you're in Freddy, no matter what. It's like Fazbear is purposely hardcore limiting Sun/Moon's mobility within the Plex for one reason or another.)

To see this place on a normal day of operation, pre-virus, would be so amazing. I'm just SO proud of Sun for taking such good care of his charges. A shame that after the lights were turned off during Gregory's visit, Sun felt he was safer away from him.

[mochinomnoms]

The idea of a octotrio polycule is so cute Mochi pliz hear my rambling

Why settling for one when you can get a buy one get two for free deal?

I can't think of much ideas other than the situation that Azul does something similar to what happened in book three so now they are punished by not getting cuddles the most decent option is to actually put your foot down and keep the punishment even if your boyfriends cry out about how "working at the lounge was so exhausting! Please spare some cuddles for these three poor fishies!!" and even if some of your friends call you out (Jack for Jade, Ace for Floyd +Jamil, Azul for literally anyone?) because they are causing trouble:

Jade keeps following around Jack to ask him questions about beastfolks (I think this happened in the playful land event Jade wanted to make Jack wear silly clothes) he is willing to drag anyone you know into hearing his fully dramatized history of your harsh punishment and it comes with the incredible acting skills of Jade Leech!!

Floyd isn't even trying to even walk to every other activity he does it looks like he does it against his own will (on classes, on club activities) and that's why Ace told you about the latest club practice where Floyd just stayed face first on the gymnasium floor? Please prefect Jamil is about to invent new seafood dishes from how much annoyed he is with this "squiggly, slimy bastard eel"

Speaking of slimy eels... Epel called you because he discovered the whole reason why Vil has been more snappy than usual is Azul not being able to provide his moisturizer because "My workers and myself are in a heavy emotional break, I am afraid that we will be canceling production until stated otherwise.." he genuinely made a little domino line that ends connecting to you and your personal friends?

Of course that's the more decent option of you still going along with the punishment I am saying decent because the other option is to give up and get teased by the tweels and getting your time and affection fully capitalized by your octo darling

After the punishment is over (if you actually have decency and choose the first option) surprisingly when the three immediately drag you to the usual cuddle session everything is planned to fit each of your likings the series you three been watching/a movie playing in the tv, tasty snacks and a thing similar to a pillow fort/a nest? Filled with soft blankets and couches for the best of the best cuddle sections and after this everything will go back to its regular flow!!

(i want to force my brain to have more ideas for this dynamic but I haven't come up with anything else)

BUY ONE GET TWO FREE ASKJDKLAJSFKJGLGJ

They are a delightful package deal, tbh. But they guilt you for your affections so often, it's a miracle that you haven't wrung their necks yet.

They indeed make it everyone else's problem when you decide to ban them from any form of affection other than quick cheek kisses and handholding. But it's 10 times worse when only one or two of them are banned, but the others aren't.

Floyd gets in trouble with you a lot because he tends to bite into you a bit harder than he should, leaving deep marks. It's not the marking itself that's the issue, you'll admit, but it's the fact that he'll leave them in visible areas like your forearms, neck, collar, and even your ankles. All spots that others will see and ask, “Wtf, you good bro??” Sometimes he'll do the same to Azul, who will do the same and ban Floyd from touching him in any form. It wouldn't be as bad if Jade didn't rub it in his face, coming up to hug you from behind, leaning in close to brush his lips against Azul's ear to whisper something, all things that Floyd can't do! It leaves Floyd incredibly annoyed, sometimes angry, and every so often devastated that he can't hold his mates. If the latter occurs, he's coming after you. A weak thing to his tears, Azul has had years to build up resilience and hold firm, but you are weak to a whiny, teary-eyed Floyd who is begging for a kiss and cuddle. It's not faaaaair, Jade's been rubbing it in his face all day, and he loves you both so much, but Azul's not budging and if he can't even hold his shrimp, he doesn't even know what he'll dooooooooo! The day ends with Floyd and you in bed, his arms tightly wrapped around your middle and legs tangled in yours as he blissfully naps. Azul's annoyed that you caved in, but Jade's amused and tries to push Azul into joining the cuddle pile with him.

Now, if Jade's the one that being iced out for something, he'll actually return the favor tenfold. He's just an innocent little guy, what do you mean he can't just secretly feed you two an aphrodisiac mushroom? You had lots of fun afterward, even Floyd agrees (he does, but his firm moral stance on mushrooms doesn't). But Azul's pissed that he was used as a test subject again, and you had to call Ace and Deuce to watch Grim as an emergency. Again. So when you both ban him to only quick smooches and side hugs, Jade returns the energy. He's refusing any form of affection, and not giving them to you. Unlike Floyd, who's begging harassing you for cuddles, he's going to make you two come beg for him. After a few days of no Jade, you're both missing him, it's surprisingly Azul who reaches out first when Jade comes to deliver some paperwork for the dorm. The octomer had leaned in to give him a kiss, when Jade stepped away with a sly smile and told him, “Oh, but I thought you weren't giving me your affections? Let's not go back on our word now, Azul.” Jade is a tad bit nicer to you—taking after Floyd—to guilt you into loving on him again. But Azul? He's gonna make him suffer, simply because he enjoys making him squirm. It's honestly a sight to see, as neither are willing to back down. At least until the two of them fall asleep in Azul's office after working a late night, curled into each other's sides on the couch.

Azul probably has it the worst, as he has both twins teasing him. Floyd and Jade are flaunting you around him, being extra handsy. They're cooing at him, whining about how they can't cuddle both of you at the same time since he was dumb enough to piss you off. How could he do this to them? Such a mean, mean Azul! By far, though, you're the weakest to Azul's charms and silver tongue when compared to the twins. Maybe it's due to the knowledge of Azul's childhood, or maybe it's just because he's extra cute, but you can't find yourself away from him for more than a day. He sniffles, murmurs something about missing your embrace, and you're rushing into his arms, kissing away his tears. The twins get incredibly annoyed that you're so quick to let Azul back into your arms, while they have to wait at least a week sometimes. But then you're both reaching out arms and cooing at them to come to bed, batting your eyes, and all complaints are out the window.

I love them they make for a wonderful polycule. After all, they're a package deal, no matter how much they might say they're not.

[aerynwrites]

Bound by The Heart (And Other Things)

Dammon x Afab!Reader

A/N: yeah uh…I don’t even have a reason for this other than I have my own personal HC that Dammon would be into bondage lmao. But like…the pretty kind. Hope y’all enjoy :3

Word Count: 6.1k

Warnings: 18+ ONLY! NSFW. Smut, PiV sex, cunnilingus, oral (fem receiving), multiple orgasms, creampie, unprotected sex, bondage, rope bondage, restraints, discussions of a safe word but it;s never used, aftercare, fluff.

The weathered leather book is heavy in your hands as you examine the title. 

A Pleasurable Deal. 

The text immediately strikes you as one you’ve seen before, and heat rushes to your cheeks when the memory of a banned books list in Sorcerous Sundries comes to the front of your mind. 

You remember Gale lamenting the list, saying no texts - no matter how obscene - should never be banned. 

You hadn’t given much thought to the list until now, as the book sits in your hands. And the fact that you found it hidden away in Dammon’s side table. 

Despite having been with the blacksmith for months now, you’d never seen this specific tome. Either because it was a new item he’d acquired or…a well loved one he'd kept hidden away. 

You’re assuming it’s the latter if the worn corners of the leather cover and the bent pages have anything to say. 

You move to put the book back, not wanting to intrude on your partners privacy, but as you move to slide it back into place, another book catches your eye. This one tucked behind several other blacksmithing texts. 

It looks rather ornate, the black binding inlaid with gold colored trimmings. 

Before you can stop yourself, you’re already reaching for the book, fingers sliding along the smooth cover and pulling it from its place. 

Your eyes fall to the cover, eyes widening as you read the title. 

A Madam's Guide to Pleasure. 

The cover falls open before you can think better of it, your eyes immediately flicking to the small piece of paper sticking out from a section farther into the book. You yearn to flip to that page first, but your eyes instead fall to scan the table of contents. 

Your face gets even hotter as you read over the various section titles. Everything from the basics when it comes to sex to the more debauched. 

Finally, you flip the pages to where the paper sticks out, only to have a few pieces of folded parchment fall into your lap to reveal the title of the section they were tucked into. 

‘Bondage’

The otherwise wicked ideal behind the term is hidden by the pretty flowing script on the page. Your eyes follow the words easily, slowly feeling your heart rate pick up as you take in the text. 

You’ve only made it halfway through the section when you remember the papers that fell into your lap. Setting the book down gently and open to the page you left off, you reach down and unfold the pages. 

The first thing you feel is shock followed by a sudden stab of arousal as you take in the charcoal images sketched onto the pages. 

It’s Dammon’s work, you’d be able to tell his artistry from anywhere thanks to the hundreds of sketches he’s shown you of blacksmithing plans. 

But these…these are not blueprints of swords or daggers or armor. No…

These sketches are something else entirely. Light and dark lines coming together as he depicts various different types of bondage scenarios. 

None of the pictures are lewd in anyway besides their obvious connotation. In a way…they’re quite beautiful. 

You see the vague shape of a body, legs tied together with an intricate weave of rope and knots, as if it’s meant to decorate the wearer rather than restrain them. 

Almost all of the drawings seem that way, the rope and bindings tied and wrapped in a way that’s almost artistic. 

The one that catches your eye the most though, is a page that depicts the front and back view of a woman kneeling and sitting on her heels. 

The sketch of her from behind shows her hands bound behind her back, the ropes binding her arms together in an intricately woven pattern that spans from her wrists all the way up to just beneath her shoulders. 

The other view seems to be part of the same design, the ropes snaking to the front of her body, twining delicately over her breasts, sternum and chest in complicated knots and patterns. 

You’ve just reached up to trace your finger over the sketchings of rope, when a startled call of your name rips you from your reverie. 

“What are you doing?”

Dammons voice is raised louder than he usually speaks to you, face several shades darker than usual as he practically lunges for the items in your hands, a look of utter fear and panic on his face. 

“Oh, gods,” he mutters, hastily collecting the papers before shoving them back into the black bound novel. “You weren’t supposed to see that, I-“ 

“Dammon it’s okay! I promise-“ 

He turns to you then, book clutched tightly in his hands, as he looks at you with something none other than utter betrayal. “Why were you going through my things?” He asks. 

You shake your head, heart sinking to your stomach and dispelling any feelings of arousal the drawings drew forth. 

“I didn’t mean to, I came up here looking for one of my books and I saw you stored some in here and so I thought-“ 

“You thought you’d go through my books instead?” He asks, voice now tinged with accusation as he stands, the book still clutched tightly in his hands. 

“I’m sorry Dammon,” you say from your position still kneeled on the floor. “I didn’t mean to upset you-“

“I-I’m not upset, I-“ the tiefling cuts himself off, running a hand down his face as he lets out a sigh, avoiding your gaze. “I just…need some air.”

You watch helplessly as Dammon turns and leaves the bedroom, a pit of guilt stirring deep in your belly. 

————

Dammon spends the rest of the day in the forge, which isn’t unusual, but it feels like an intentional choice today. One you don’t begrudge him considering you snooped through his personal things. 

It’s well into the evening before he comes into the house, and you’re just finishing up dinner. You watch him between plating your meals as he hangs up his blacksmith apron next to the door before heading to the water basin to wash his hands. 

You’ve just placed the last of the food onto your plates when he approaches you, taking one of the plates from your hands with a quick kiss to your cheek.

A small weight is lifted from your shoulders at that small action, and you follow him silently to the kitchen table, taking your habitual seat to his right side. 

The meal is pleasant enough, you tentatively asking about his forge projects and feel the tension lift as he tells you about them. It goes on like that - like normal despite the nagging in your mind. 

You don’t want to ruin the mood by bringing up the earlier incident. But you also don’t want to leave it how it was. You owe him an apology, a real apology, and…there’s something else you want to talk to him about too.

You finally find the courage to bring it all up as you and Dammon clean up after dinner, you drying the washed dishes as Dammon puts them away. 

“I’m sorry about earlier, Dammon,” you say softly, not missing the way his shoulders tense as he takes a plate from you, eyes avoiding yours once more. 

“It’s…It’s alright,” he says with a sigh. “I’m not angry or upset with you, not over something so trivial. I was just…” he lets out a dry chuckle. “I supposed I’m a bit embarrassed for you to have come across such things. I know they aren’t…Common desires.” 

He’s still turned away from you when he finishes, stashing the last dish before his hands fall to his sides. You immediately reach for him, taking his hand in your own as you urge him to face you. 

“There’s nothing to be ashamed of,” you tell him, feeling that familiar heat creep up into your cheeks as you contemplate your next words. 

“I actually…Liked them. The drawings, I mean.”

Dammon’s eyes finally snap to yours then, bright blue iris’ completely visible to you as he stares at you wide eyed, mouth slightly agape. 

“You…what?”

You take your lip between your teeth coyly, courage slowly building up in your chest as you move to slip your arms around his waist, hands resting on his low back as returns the lose embrace. 

“I liked them,” you repeat. “It looked…beautiful really. The intricate designs and knots and I…”

You pause then, shyness creeping in one more as you look up at your lover. 

“I think I’d like to try it sometime. If that’s - if you’d want too, of course.”

You can practically see the way Dammon’s heart rate picks up, cheeks darkening with blush as his breath stutters. 

“You’d…You’d try that? With me?” 

A small chuckle slips past your lips. “I hope it’s with you.”

In an answer of his own, Dammon captures your lips with his in a fierce kiss. It’s needy and desperate and filled with a relief only you can understand as he pulls you tighter to him. 

“I love you,” he mutters against your lips before pulling down to trail kisses down your jaw. “We can’t do it tonight,” he says. “I need to prepare.”

You try to hide the small swell of disappointment, but Dammon must sense it anyways, nipping at the spot just below your ear as he tugs you closer to his body. 

“I’m still going to ravish you tonight though. For making me the happiest man in Baldur’s Gate.”

You smile, pulling him up for another kiss before he whisks you upstairs. Anticipation for tonight and what’s to come in the future simmering low in your belly.

—————

It’s only a few days later when Dammon brings it back up, asking if tonight you’d like to try what you all had discussed. When you agreed, a bit too eagerly, he had just let out a small laugh before laying out all of the boundaries. 

He had you pick a safeword in case you wanted out of the restraints, as well as asking you about anything you’d be uncomfortable with. In the end you’d just told him you trusted him completely and once again stated your excitment. 

Which led you here, blindfolded on the edge of your shared bed in nothing but your smallclothes. 

Dammon had tied the soft silk fabric around your eyes before leaving the room to fetch something, asking that you not remove the blindfold before he got back. You obeyed easily, but as the seconds turn into minutes, you feel yourself start to grow impatient. 

What is taking him so long?

Your fingers twitch against your skin from where your hands sit on your thighs before moving to be by your side instead, toying with the soft sheets beneath you. Every creak and faint footstep has your ears perking up, waiting in anticipation for Dammon to return. 

Finally, you hear his familiar footsteps coming up the stairs and to your shared room, the floor boards creaking beneath his weight. His steps are softer than when he left, the sound of bare soles on the wood greeting your ears as he approaches your position. 

He must have taken off his shoes. And you silently hope he took off other things as well, wanting to feel him at least a little bit before you're restrained. 

“Are you still alright?” he asks, his voice much closer than you anticipated. 

You jump slightly as you realize he’s right in front of you now, and you can feel the subtle heat radiating from his body. You nod, reaching out instinctively to touch him. 

He allows it, sighing lightly when your hands bump against his bare stomach, flattening against the taut muscle there before sliding upwards. You can feel the faint ridges and bumps unique to his skin as you continue upwards, gliding over his chest before coming back down again, mapping him in your blinded state. You only stop when your fingers meet rough fabric - the waistband of his pants. 

You hear the faint sound of his tail brushing the ground intermittently, and you can’t help but smile as your fingers curl beneath the band of his pants. But before you can get any further, familiar calloused hands stop your own, pulling you away from his skin. 

“If you do that, I’m afraid we won’t accomplish what we planned to do tonight,” he says breathlessly. 

You are still amazed that such simple touches drive him crazy, but you can’t help but relish in it, because you feel the same anytime Dammon touches you. As if your body can’t get enough. 

Tonight might be the night that it does. 

“Can you give me your hand?” he asks, and you hear him rustling around with something. 

“Of course.”

You offer him your hand and he takes it, turning it palm up and placing a long thin object in your palm. He curls your fingers round it, and when he offers no complaint, you reach up with your other hand to further investigate what it could be. 

“It’s the rope I’m going to use,” he informs you as your fingers trail along the braid material. “It’s…This is why we had to wait. I had to find someone who…dealt with these kinds of things.”

You let out a small hum as you run the rope through you hands, and you slowly begin to understand what he means. It’s smoother than any rope you’ve ever used, so smooth in fact that it feels like silk. It’s sturdy too, not too thick but not so thin it will dig uncomfortably into your skin if it gets tight. It’s like it was created for this purpose alone. 

And perhaps it was. 

You’re no stranger to the more debacuhed happenings in the city. Hells - you’ve been inside Sharess’ Caress. They probably use rope like this in abundance there.

“It’s so…soft,” you say finally, reaching out to offer the rope back to him. 

“Yes I…” He trails off for a moment before continuing. “This isn’t supposed to be painful,” he informs you, and you feel the bed dip beside you, his voice shifting to your right side. “It can be of course but…Not tonight. It’s more about the control I suppose. The art of it.”

You nod as you feel a warm hand settle on your hip. “That makes sense. The drawings I saw were beautiful in a way and also…” you trail off, heat creeping into your cheeks. “Let’s just say I was never put off by the idea once I saw it.”

You can hear the way Dammon’s breath catches, his nails digging into the flesh of your hip ever so slightly. “I should have suggested it sooner, it seems.”

You smile, leaning in to where you think his body is. “You should have.”

He lets out a sigh, and you feel the way it brushes against your temple as he speaks. 

“Well…We’re here now,” he says, slowly dragging his hand from your hip up your back before settling on your shoulder. “Are you ready for me to start?”

You let out a breath of your own, anticipation bubbling in your veins as you shift in your place, eager to get started. “Yes, I’m ready.”

Slowly and with whispered instructions he guides you so your are on your knees on the bed, sitting on your heels as you face away from him. Once you’re in position his fingers skim up to unhook the clasps of your bra, sliding it gently from your shoulders before tossing it somewhere off to your left. 

“If you wanted me naked you could have just said so,” you tease, smiling when it earns youa  chuckle from teh man behind you. 

“That ruins the fun,” he says, and you finally feel the cool slide of rope against your arms. “This is…a lot of this is about the anticipation,” he tells you, breath ghosting over your ear as he gently guides your arms into position behind your back. “The gentle touches, the slow act of tying the rope, the build of what’s to come…”

He has you bend your arms behind your back, forearms almost crossing as he starts to slide the rope beneath them, wrapping it over just a few times before starting to tie the first knot, securing your arms together. 

He continues like that for long agonizing moments. The cool rope sliding against your heated skin as he pulls, tugs, and knots the smooth cord into a masterpiece only he can see. The design soon travels from your forearms upwards above your elbows, as he begins to connect your arms together once more. He threads the rope beneath your right arm, hands ghosting across your back as he brings it over to your left, looping it over your bicep and back again, creating an intricate set of loops and ties that secure your arms behind you further, pulling your shoulders back to just the bare edge of discomfort. 

Dammon was right. This is about the anticipation.

Because with each slide of the rope, with each brush of his fingers or ghost of his lips on your skin, you feel a new pang of arousal pool in your core. You shudder with each pass of the cord on your skin, breath hitching with each knot he tugs into place. 

And Dammon, who’s never known to keep his hands from you for too long, can’t help but to touch you in between. His sharp nails ghosting along your skin, kisses pressed to your shoulder as he mutters words of praise…you can feel yourself getting wet already, and he’s barely even touched you. Not in the way you desire most, at least. 

A whimper slips past your lips when he finally pulls away from you, the last piece of rope in place agasint your arms. But his absence doesn’t last long before he’s back again, his arms snaking around you as a new rope presses against the delicate skin of your lower belly. 

“Are you still alright?” he asks, warm breath ghosting over your cheek as his head comes up beside yours to look down at your exposed body. His chin tucks perfectly against your shoulder as he presses a kiss to your cheek, waiting patiently for you to answer before he continues.

When you do find your words, they come out small, a mere gasp on your lips. 

“Yes,” you assure him. “I just…wish you would touch me. I didn’t…this is more than i expected.”

You feel him tense behind you, his hands stilling. “We can stop at anytime-”

“No!” you almost shout, leaning back into your lover in a silent plea. “Please, don’t stop. I only meant…I didn’t expect to react so strongly to just this.”

Dammon clicks his tongue, letting out a low hum of understanding as his hands start to move again, the rope sliding softly against your skin. 

“If it makes you feel any better…” Dammon trails off, wrapping the rope around your front again, allowing him to press himself against your back, the hardness of him pressing into your low back. “It’s having the same affect on me.”

His words, and the feeling of him hard as steel pressing into your skin is enough to send another bolt of pleasure through you. You expect him to pull away to continue his work, but he does no such thing, instead aiming to stay pressed as close to you as possible as he works on his art. 

Each moment feels agonizing as he slowly winds the ropes up your body, fingers braiding and knotting the pieces together, fingers brushing against your skin, but never doing much more. 

Your breath leaves you in shallow pants, and you can’t help it when you press your hips back into his own, desperate for any kind of touch, any friction to sooth the ache simmering in your veins.

A small groan leaves Dammons lips, and you feel a small tug the the ropes around your arms. “We’ll get there,” he whispers, leaning down to brush a tender kiss to your shoulder. “You’re doing so well, my love. I’m almost done.”

You fight to hold back the whine that threatens to slip past when his lips retreat from your skin, but you do, instead moving to lean back against him as he looks back over your shoulder once more to see his work. 

You can feel the way the cords constrict around you, knotting in the center of your body as it travels upwards and spans out to wrap over your ribs and around your back. Soon enough you can feel them start to settle beneath your breasts. His hands barely brush the plush mounds as he ties a secure knot between them before taking the two ends up and over your collarbones to secure at the back of your neck. 

He ties the last knot, a quiet sigh of admiration leaving him as his hands skim over his work, calloused palms ghosting over your skin. 

You feel the bed shift, his warmth leaving your back. You wonder for a moment if he’s leaving again, but you continue to feel him move, until you think he settles in front of you on the plush mattress. The bed creaks softly as he settles, and despite the blindfold, you can feel his eyes boring into you, admiring his work much like he does that which he produces in the forge. 

Dammon is a lot of things, and a proud man is one of them.

He’s never boastful or arrogant. But he loves his work - he’s always proud of what he can accomplish. And it seems that extends to you as well.

You don’t flinch when his hand settles on your cheek, thumb brushing the skin their gently, as he continues to admire you. 

“You’re absolutely beautiful,” he whispers, his other hand coming up to cup one of your breasts gently. 

A gasp slips past your lips as he runs a thumb over the stiff peak of your nipple, nails scratching the sensitive skin deliciously as he pulls away to trail further down your body. He traces the ropes he tied into place, fingers slipping beneath them every now and again to tug gently. 

“Is it-“ another gasp interrupts you as his hands slide down to brush over your thighs instead. “Is it everything you imagined?” 

Dammon leans forward then, his hands slipping around your hips as his lips fall to your shoulder before trailing down lower to nip sharp teeth at your collar bone. 

“It’s even better,” he breathes. “You’re more magnificent than anything my mind could conjure up.” 

A moan leaves you as his mouth finally reaches your breast, his teeth scarping against the sensitive swell before taking a pert nipple between his lips. 

“Oh, gods…” you gasp, arms tugging at the rope as you instinctively want to reach up to cradle his head in your hands. 

But the restraints keep you in place, completely at his mercy as he continues to lavish your skin with praises and gently love bites. 

You’re burning up now, blood boiling in your veins and desperate for anything Dammon wishes to give you. Something he seems to sense as both arms move to slip around your back as he gently lowers you to lay back on the bed, his lips traveling lower the whole way. 

Your arms are trapped beneath you in this new position, adding to the arousal pooling in your belly as you lay completely open and bare for the man before you. 

His teeth tug at the rope around your hips, hands moving to spread your legs so he can settle between them. 

“Are you still alright, my love?” He asks, fingers creeping slowly up your inner thighs. 

Gods you love him. You really do. But in this moment you want nothing more than for him to ravish you, to tear you completely apart before putting you back together again. 

He can be sweet later. Right now, you want him to fuck you. 

“Yes, yes, Dammon I’m fine,” you assure him, bucking your hips up into his hands. “Just please…fuck me. I cant wait any longer.” 

You would usually be embarrassed by blatantly begging like this, but the feel of Dammons mouth on your wet center removes any and all thoughts but him from your mind. 

His tounge parts your folds running up to tease the small bundle of nerves that sends bolts of pleasure through you. 

You squirm in Dammon’s steel grip, your back arching as he devours you, his fingers digging into your thighs, nails no doubt going to leave behind evidence of his hold on you come morning. 

His name falls from your lips in a lewd prayer, as you buck your hips up into his mouth, seeking more despite the way his tongue moves ravenously against you. 

You feel his hands slide up to the rope around your hips, fingers slipping beneath the cord as he uses it to tug you closer to him, as if he wishes to drown in you. 

His nose nudges at your clit as his tounge prods your entrance, desperate to taste you, his moans sending vibrations through you that make that coil in your belly pull impossibly taut. 

“Fuck,” cry out when he slides one hand to rub expect circles on your clit. “Dammon, I’m close I-“ 

An expert flick of his fingers cuts off your warning, sending you hurtling over the edge into oblivion as Dammon continues to work you through it. 

Incoherent babbles of his name fall from your lips until you finally say back into the bed, chest heaving and legs twitching as Dammon continues to lick at you, certain to leave nothing behind. 

You want to push him away, but without the use of your hands, you squeeze your thighs around his shoulders gently, urging him away from you. 

He obeys with a small sigh, his hand sliding up your body, as his lips follow suit, leaving a moist trail of kisses in his wake before he’s finally pressing them to the underside of your jaw. 

“You’re doing so well, my love,” me mutters against your skin, fingers toying idly with the smooth cord beneath your breasts. 

You smile as you turn your head to capture his lips with your own, tasting yourself on his tounge before pulling away just enough to speak. 

“Can you…Will you take the blindfold off?”you ask. “I’d like to see you.” 

Dammon lets out a low hum, pressing one last kiss to the corner of your lips before reaching up to tug at the silken fabric. 

While the sun has long set, the bedroom is still well lit, lanterns and a few candles lighting the space enough for you to need to adjust to the brightness. 

You blink a few times, leaning into the hand Dammon places on your cheek as his face comes into focus. 

You’ve never seen anything so breathtaking. 

His lips are tilted up in that small smile of his, pupils blown wide with lust as he looks down at you. His cheeks are flushed and errant strands of hair fall from his usually well kept style. 

You yearn to reach up and tuck them back, to card your fingers through his hair or trace around the base of his horns, but you’re once again reminded of the impossibility of that as your arms tug uselessly at your bindings. 

It’s then that you start to recognize the ache in your arms, your hands tingling as they start to fall asleep form their position pinned under you. 

You shift beneath Dammon, and he notices immediately, brow furrowing in silent question. 

“Does it hurt?” He asks, voice laced with concern. 

You shake your head. “No it doesn’t hurt. It just-“ you let out a small chuckle. “I think my hands are falling asleep.” 

Dammon nods, and immediately goes to help you sit up, but you stop him with a shake of your head, an idea popping into your head. 

“Wait.” You tell him, nodding your chin up towards where he was previously sitting. “Sit back.” 

He gives you a curious look, and for a moment he hesitates, but he obeys, scooting back to sit on his heels between your legs. 

You notice the hard bulge in his trousers, and any hesitance about your idea flies out the proverbial window. 

With less effort than you expected, you manage to roll over onto your stomach, gathering your knees below you enough to raise your ass in the air, presenting yourself to the man behind you. 

The sharp intake of breath is enough to tell you that Dammon understands your presentation for what it is. And soon two warm hands settle on your hips, trailing up your sides before coming back down again. 

The warmth of him surrounds you soon after, his chest pressed against your back and arms as he leans over you, pressing gentle kisses to your shoulders. 

“Are you sure?” 

You let out an exasperated sigh, turning your face so it’s no longer pressed against the sheets. 

“Dammon I swear to the gods, if you went through all this and don’t fuck me-“ 

His lips leave yours in an instant, the heat of him disappearing from behind you as you hear the faint rustle of fabric from behind you. 

His hands settle on your hips again, nails biting into the skin harsher than before as you feel the head of his cock nudge at your entrance. 

You expect him to check in with you again, expect him to ask if you remember your safe word or any amount of other precautions. But he doesn’t. 

Instead he presses into you in one swift thrust, his cock guided easily by your earlier orgasm. 

But it still never prepared you for the size of him. He always stretches you perfectly, the small ridges and bumps unique to his race adding to the sensation of him sinking into you. 

The groan you let out is sinful, and you can’t help but turn to muffle it in the sheets. 

But Dammon isn’t having that. 

A strong tug in the rope between your arms has you pulling up from the bed, the force of the movement pulling you further back onto him until your hips are flush with his own. 

“Don’t hide from me,” Dammon says, tugging at the restraints again, sending him deeper and making the rope dig deliciously into your skin. “I want to hear you.” 

“Oh, gods. Dammon…”

His name falling from your lips finally makes him move, pulling out of you before thrusting back in with one solid movement. 

Your name falls from his lips as he sets a punishing pace, something so different from the reverent way he worshiped your body earlier. 

He curls himself over you, his chest pressed against your back as he plants one hand by your head on the bed, his sharp nails digging deep into the sheets as he holds himself over you. 

He nuzzles his face into the space between your neck and shoulder, nose nudging your jaw as he takes your earlobe between his teeth and tugs. 

Another whimper escapes your lips as he continues his mind blowing pace, hitting that spot inside you as you writhe against the ropes fully now. Hands clenching and unclenching as you press your hips back into his own, seeking your second release of the night. 

“Gods, Dammon, please..” 

you're practically sobbing now, tears wetting your lashes at the intense pleasure that courses through you and the slight frustration of not being able to touch anything - touch him. 

“I’ve got you,” he murmurs, his free arm wrapping around your hips to hold you to him as he presses you down, further into the bed his cock pressing impossibly deeper inside of you at the change of position. 

“Let go for me,” he says, voice sinful in your ear. 

His words, and his fingers that slipped down to rub at your clit send you into oblivion for the second time. 

You clench around him, crying out his name in a desperate plea as you squirm against him, veins alight with utter pleasure.

Dammon is not far behind you, just a few more stuttered thrusts and he comes in you with a groan of your name from his lips, his chest rumbling against your back as he sinks down into you, breath coming out in short labored breaths against your cheek. 

Your mind is blissfully blank as you sink into the plush bedding beneath you, completely boneless as your lover adjusts his weight above you. 

You whine when you feel him pull away from you, the room seeming so much cooler without his body next to yours. 

“My love…?” His voice feels a million miles away as he brushes a few strands of hair from your sweat soaked forehead before pressing a kiss there. “Are you alright?”

You chuckle, but it comes out hoarse and weaker than intended. 

“You just…gave me the best orgasm of my life. I’m more than alright.” 

You watch through bleary eyes as Dammon blushes, his earlier dominant demeanor disappearing into the Dammon you know and love. 

“I’m going to untie you.” 

You nod, trying to help as much as you can in your blissed out state as he helps you to sit up, maneuvering you until you sit straddling his lap so he can more easily work at the ropes. 

He moves quickly, fingers deftly untying the intricate knots and letting the ropes fall away from your skin. When he loosens the ropes at your back, your hands fall to your sides, a dull ache running from your shoulders down to the tips of your fingers. 

You must have let out some kind of noise or flinched, because as soon as the ropes fall away, Dammon’s hands are on your arms, calloused palms running up and down your arms as he tries to sooth the aches and indentations left behind. 

“They were too tight,” he mutters softly. “I’m sorry, my love I-”

You shush him softly, pressing a kiss to the corner of his lips to quiet his concerns. “I’m alright, Dammon. I promise,” you assure him, smiling as he continued to rub at the light indentation marks left by the ropes. “I liked it,” you finally admit. “I really liked it.”

His minstrations pauses momentarily, hands sliding down to wrap around your waist as he pulls back enough to look down at you, brows furrowed ever so slightly. “You’re…not just saying that to please me, are you?”

You can’t help the playful groan that you let out, followed by a small chuckle as you wrap your arms around him and bury your face in his chest. 

“Only you could give a woman the best orgasm of her life and still question whether she liked it,” you tease, practically feeling the way Dammon rolls his eyes at you.

A small squeal escapes you as Dammon wraps his arms around you more securly as he flips you onto your back again, head hitting the pillow as he hovers over your, lips turned upwards playfully.

“If you think that was the best…I think I have more work to do.”

Your brows wing up in surprise, lips aprting slightly as your mind runs wild with the possibilities. “Is that a challenge, you’re proposing?” you ask.

Dammon smiles, humming low in his chest as he leans down to press a kiss to your jaw. “It might be,” he aquecies. “But for now, i’d just like to hold you and maybe run you a bath. If you’d be so inclined.”

Warmth swells in your chest at his words. Even after something most would consider debacuhed, Dammon still manages to be the sweetest thing in the room. You turn and press a quick kiss to his lips before reching up to wrap your arms around his neck. 

“I’d Love nothing more.”

He smiles and plops down next to you on the bed, gathering you in his arms as he does so. His chin rests on the top of your head as you nuzzle into his chest, your leg tangling with his own until you’re both settled comfortably against one another. 

Comfortable silence fills the space, Dammon trailing light patterns on your back, as you do the same on his chest - both of you just taking a moment to bask in the other's presence. Until Dammon finally speaks up.

“Thank you…for trusting me enough to do this,” he tells you softly, voice gentle. 

You nod, moving to slip your arms around his waist, scooting closer to him. “Of course,” you say, pressing a kiss to his chest. “I love you, Dammon.”

You feel his lips press against the crown of your head. 

“I love you more.”

[thingstrumperssay]

So women will have to do some things in order to keep them from getting pregnant and possibly dying or getting arrested for having a miscarriage.

In Korea there's a "4B" movement (called the "4 No's" in America):

No sex with men

No dating men

No having babies

No marriage

Needless to say, you should uninstall any dating apps you've been using.

But most of these men are losers who won't be getting any consensual sex anyway, so I'd like to add something to the list:

No meaningful interactions with a guy, period. I've seen incels assume that the slightest piece of positive attention from a woman means that they're into them, and they fly off the handle when their dick isn't sucked right then and there. Don't give them that.

Also, arm yourself with anything you can. Mace is legal where I live. You can have brass knuckles in some states. (Look up "wild cat key chains.")

This isn't to punish them. This to keep you as safe as possible.

Of course there are some exceptions to this. My husband is a left-leaning guy who immediately assumed that we're not going to be having vaginal sex if birth control (including condoms) is banned. If he wasn't so concerned about my health I would've gotten a divorce while it's still legal. If you're married to a man like that, then keep him. Otherwise-

Part of Project 2025 is banning divorce, period. I'm also almost positive that this includes making marital rape legal. (I'm pretty sure it is still legal in some states.) If you were thinking about getting a divorce, do it now.

[mewvore]

On a "real talk" note the reason I haven't posted that much art is mostly because a lot of what I do is like immediately censored and it gets a little demotivating to work on something knowing that even when I post it the people who I'd like to see it the sickos I mean fans wont even get to, because it got flagged and my account got shadow banned. I draw a ton of really horny stuff but I only get around to posting the far and few between more tame things and joke drawings because otherwise you might not even see me on your dash anymore all because I posted naked boob drawings, like cmon 50% of the human race has tits it feels like putting nsfw tag on oxygen at that point y'know but I digress

[thollandsgirl2013]

𝐒𝐩𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫-𝐌𝐚𝐧 𝐕𝐬. 𝐒𝐩𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫

Parings → Tom Holland x Reader

Warnings → fluff, arachnophobia, sex talk

Summary →Tom faces his fear of spiders to save you, motivated by an ultimatum.

(gif not mine)

Tom was lying on the bed, casually scrolling through his phone while waiting for you to finish up in the shower. The soft sound of running water from the adjoined bathroom filled the otherwise quiet room. He was comfortable, sinking into the mattress, one hand lazily holding his phone above him, eyes half-focused on some random reel.

He could hear you humming lightly in the background, and he smiled to himself, thinking about how cute you always were when you thought no one was paying attention. Everything felt peaceful.

Suddenly, a piercing scream erupted from the bathroom, breaking the calm like a slap. Tom jolted up so fast he nearly dropped his phone on his face.

"Love?" He called, panic immediately flooding his voice. His heart was racing as his feet hit the floor, “What happened?”

Before he could move closer, you burst out of the bathroom door, dripping wet, holding only a towel in your hand but not even wearing it yet. Tom’s eyes went wide, not just from concern but from the fact that you were completely naked.

Instinctively, you wrapped yourself around him like a koala, your wet skin clinging to his as you buried your face into his chest, shaking. His hands came up to your back, steadying you, but his brain was now torn between two very different reactions. He bit down on his lip, trying to suppress a grin that threatened to form because, honestly, he was getting a lot of ideas right now.

But now was definitely not the time. He shook his head to clear his thoughts.

"Love, baby, hey, look at me," Tom coaxed, tilting his head to try and meet your eyes. You were trembling in his arms. “What happened?"

“There t-there's a spider in the shower!" You managed to stutter out, clinging even tighter to him as if the spider had somehow followed you out of the bathroom.

Tom’s eyes immediately went wide. "A what?"

"A SPIDER, TOM!" You wailed, your voice shaking with fear.

"Oh..." he whispered, his face paling. Tom hated spiders. His instinct was to drop you and run. "You sure the spider didn't come out with you?" He asked, trying to peer over your shoulder nervously.

You shook your head wildly. “No, I left it in there!”

“Right…” Tom cleared his throat, awkwardly prying himself out of your grip. As much as he loved you, there were some limits. "Good, good," he muttered before diving back onto the bed and yanking the blanket over his head like a shield.

"TOM!" You yelled, standing there half-shivering, half-annoyed, your towel still clutched in one hand but completely useless.

“What?" His muffled voice came from beneath the blanket.

"It's huge, and I can't finish my shower knowing it's in there!"

"You’ll be fine, just—just shower in the guest bathroom.”

“You gotta kill it, babe!” You insisted, stomping your foot, getting more irritated by the second.

"Nope," he answered from under the blanket. "You saw it first, you kill it."

You let out a frustrated groan. “You’re Spider-Man!"

Tom peeked out from the blanket, his brown curls a mess. He blinked at you. “That’s right, I’m Spider-Man. Not a spider killer.”

You glared at him, your frustration reaching its peak. "Tom, I’m serious, go kill it, or—" you hesitated for a second, trying to think of something that would convince him to leave his cocoon. "Or I'll ban having sex with you."

That made him freeze. Slowly, he pushed the blanket down, now fully sitting up on the bed, his eyes wide in disbelief. "You wouldn't."

You crossed your arms, leveling him with a firm look. “Oh, I would.”

He squinted at you, clearly conflicted between his arachnophobia and his desires. After a few seconds of contemplation, he sighed dramatically, throwing his head back as if he had just been asked to do the most exhausting task in the world.

“Fine! But you owe me, babe,” he whined, sliding out of bed and glaring at the bathroom door as if it were personally offending him.

“I know,” you said sweetly, trying not to laugh at his grumbling. You slipped the towel around yourself finally, feeling a little less exposed now, and leaned up to kiss his cheek. "Thanks, love."

Tom huffed, standing at the bathroom entrance like he was preparing for a battle. “Okay…okay, I got this,” he muttered to himself, giving himself a little pep talk. "Just one spider. You can do this."

He peeked inside cautiously, his eyes darting around the tiled walls, and the moment he spotted the small, harmless spider casually chilling in the corner of the shower, Tom practically jumped out of his skin when it moved a bit.

“THAT’S IT?!” Tom exclaimed, turning around to look at you accusingly. “That little thing?”

“It’s not little!” You insisted, hiding a smile at how serious he was being.

Tom glared at it one more time before grabbing some toilet paper and, with a surprising amount of bravery, squashing it as quickly as possible and flushed it away in the toilet. He stood there triumphantly for a second, wiping his hands off on a towel like he had just saved the world.

“See? No big deal,” he said, strutting back towards you with a smirk.

You smiled sweetly and kissed him on the lips. "My hero."

“I expect a proper reward for this later,” he said with a cheeky grin, wrapping his arms around your waist now that the threat was gone.

You laughed softly, feeling warmth bloom in your chest. "Fine. But only if you never make me face a spider again.”

“Deal,” Tom grinned, pulling you close before nuzzling into your still-wet hair. “Now, finish your shower. You smell great, but you’re a little wet for cuddles right now.”

You rolled your eyes, smiling. "Shut up, Tom."

As you turned back to the bathroom, he called after you, "But seriously... thank me later, yeah?"

You laughed, shaking your head. "Only if you behave."

"No promises, love."

°:. *₊ ° . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ° .•