#particularly since i don’t actually want them to feel pressured into anything

[no-song-so-sweet]

i saw your name, for the first time in four years today. it wasn’t even really your name, but your social media handle. i woke up to it in my inbox; you reblogged one of my posts.

i have to admit something. i had forgotten we were mutals, and i had, quite frankly, never expected to see you again, in any capacity.

actually, i have to admit to something else - i didn’t attend new york pride for awhile because i was terrified i would run into you, and frankly, i don’t know how i would have handled it. i went once, with a group of your friends, and the following year, your girlfriend texted me to ask where i was, and the truth of the matter is that we had never talked about it. we never talked about it, and i wasn’t going to travel two hours to a place i wasn’t sure i was wanted, so i didn’t go. i attended pride events closer to home, and remembered you once a year when i thought about new york, and chose philadelphia instead, except this year, where a bunch of fellow researchers and i descended upon dc, and for one, glorious pride, i didn’t think about my first.

you became a ghost in my world, a string of text messages about cats where we last spoke, a string about student loans where we didn’t, and several months later, finally. a single message from the start of the pandemic, asking you to stay healthy. we hadn’t spoken in five months, but i still wanted you to be okay.

i don’t know if you’ll ever see this post. i don’t know if you’ll read it, if you’ll recognize yourself or me in my words. i don’t know that i care. because here’s the thing.

we were friends. and then we weren’t. you were the driving force behind my single most popular fanfiction on ao3, it still gets hits, and comments, and kudos. it shows up in rec lists, which always astounds me, because it was originally just a line of crack texts we sent each other. a joke that i put out into the world. you took me to my first pride event, my first con. we met in philadelphia, once. we were going to go to the art museum, and instead i spent half the night driving around the city.

we were friends, and then we weren’t, and i, with the exception of my refusal to go to new york, moved on. i wrote other things, i still do (little drabbles of things, but there’s a document saved that’s professional. i started it last year, and it’s nonfiction, but it’s my baby). i got a girlfriend, and lost her because we fell out of love (we still talk, still laugh. we fell out of love, not out of like, and i’m delighted she found someone new, and equally delighted that i’m friends with both of them). my roving band of researchers have also gone to comicon (we haven’t cosplayed yet, but there’s talk in the groupchat, and either way, i’ve got fabric and a plan). i go to museums on the regular, i take a different friend every time, and we always have a blast.

somewhere in between you vanishing and today, i fell back in love with life. i got passionate about things, i started exploring again. i remembered the things that i loved before i got depressed, and i got better. life got better, even as the world goes to shit.

and i want you to know, if you see this, that you don’t have to reach back out. this isn’t meant to be a guilt trip, but rather, a treatise on how sometimes people touch our lives in interesting ways, and how sometimes, they intersect again for brief moments that make us think about the person we used to be and the person we are now. so yeah, you’re welcome to pop back in. i won’t turn you away if you do. but if you don’t, that’s alright. we’ve drifted apart, and that’s something that happens. regardless of what you do, i just want you to know that i hope you’re having a great life. i hope you’re doing what you love, i hope that you’re in love, i hope that you’re happy. because i don’t think we’re friends now. but we were, once.

[transmascissues]

12 weeks post-top surgery thoughts

most importantly, i’m absolutely fucking in love with how things look! it’s still not set in stone yet, my surgeon said i won’t really see the final result until up to a year after, but I’m so happy with it already.

my surgeon’s default timeline would’ve had me starting scar tape at 4 weeks, but i still haven’t started yet because some little scabs are still hanging around even though most of my scars are completely healed. my surgeon didn’t seem concerned about it taking longer than expected, she just said everyone’s body is different. given that i have a connective tissue disorder and skin that just hates being messed with at all, i’m not surprised that it’s been slow going and i’m just happy that the rest is healing so well. i just had another post-op today and was cleared to start using scar tape because the scabbing is so minimal at this point, so i can finally move on to the next stage of healing.

i can (mostly) lift my arms now! they still can’t quite go all the way up, but i have enough of my mobility back that the only things i really struggle with are super high shelves like the ones above my fridge, and things like the washer and dryer that i have to reach really far to get into. technically, i was supposed to wait six months before raising them because that’s what my surgeon usually recommends for aesthetic purposes, but i have to be able to raise them to do my job anyway so i’m not limiting myself beyond the natural limits of discomfort at this point.

my chest muscles are mostly back to normal too, but they’re still very sensitive. when i flex them, it doesn’t hurt or feel uncomfortable but i am a lot more aware of the feeling than i was before. they also still tire out more easily than they used to — i’m back at work now, and i’ve learned the hard way that i tend to favor one arm over the other for certain tasks because when i do any of them for too long, i start to feel it in that side of my chest. it’s not anything too bad, but i’m still making sure my shifts are spread out because i don’t want to risk overdoing it.

i’m getting used to touching my own chest, but being touched by other people still feels super weird and honestly uncomfortable at times, particularly when it’s my bare chest and not over my shirt. i’ve been touching it a lot to try to desensitize it since around week 3 or 4, and it seems to be working as far as my own touch, but other people is a whole other story — when my boyfriend is touching my bare chest and their hand touches the scars, it doesn’t actually hurt but i react to it like it does. i suspect it’s more of a mental thing than anything, that since i’m still instinctively protective of it and not quite used to how it feels, touches that i’m not in control of just automatically set off alarm bells. it’s also just a generally foreign feeling even without the weirdness of healing because my boyfriend never really touched my chest before surgery since i was dysphoric about it, so it seems to require desensitization on multiple levels. i’ve given them permission to keep touching it even when i flinch (unless i explicitly ask them to stop) because i want to make sure i start getting used to the feeling.

i’m also still very sensitive to pressure against my chest, especially the front of it. it’s getting easier to lie down on my side now but i’m still using my body pillow to take some pressure off of the scars under my armpits, because if i don’t i usually can only stay in that position for a little while. my boyfriend can mostly lay their head on my chest for short periods of time now, but the position matters because if the weight isn’t distributed evenly enough or if it’s on the wrong part of my chest, it hurts. that being said, less intense pressure on the front like a hug or holding something to my chest is pretty much fine, i’m just still more sensitive to it (as with everything). i’ve been able to lay face down on top of my boyfriend a couple times without discomfort too, but i’m still erring on the side of caution and not laying on my chest too much yet.

when i was around a month in and thought i would be starting scar care soon, i was really nervous about it — particularly about the scar massage — because of the state my chest was in. i still didn’t feel like i could press on it or move the skin around or pick it up with my fingers at all, and the scar tissue underneath was still really thick and firm. i assumed that all of that would stay the same until i did the massages to break down the scar tissue and loosen things up, but i can now confirm after another month and a half of doing nothing while things healed, my skin is naturally a lot more mobile and a lot of that really thick scar tissue has already broken down. obviously i’m still going to start massaging now because i want to give myself the best possible chance of healing well, but i wish i had known how much my chest would be able to bounce back on its own. in hindsight, i’m glad i ended up having to wait to start the massage instead of doing it back when my chest was much less healed, because i’m much more comfortable manipulating it now.

every once in a while, i’ll get sharp pains in my chest. they aren’t horribly painful, mostly just unpleasant. they feel a lot like the nerve zaps i was getting earlier in recovery so it might be another round of nerves reconnecting, but it also happens more often when i’m working so it’s hard to say if it’s nerves or over-exertion. either way, i always make sure to take it easy when i start to feel that, just in case it is a sign of me doing too much.

i typically almost never eat meat, but i chose to reintroduce it into my diet after surgery to get more protein, because i wanted to make sure my body had everything it needs to heal and protein is a huge part of that. now that i’m pretty much all healed skin-wise and just waiting for everything to settle, i’ve decided it’s time to go back to my usual diet of not-fully-vegetarian-but-pretty-damn-close. i’m sure the diet change wasn’t strictly necessary but i don’t regret doing it, though i am glad to be switching back now.

putting on shirts still hasn’t gotten old. seeing how they look over a flat chest honestly feels surreal, but in the best way. hugging people and being able to press all the way into it js also still such a great feeling. i’m far enough in now that i can do all of that stuff without worrying about it, but still early enough that it all feels really new and special, and i’ve been thoroughly enjoying that.

wearing a more genderfucky outfit out in public for the first time post-op was a fucking blast. my boyfriend and i went to a new year’s eve party, and getting to show off my chest through a sheer lace top and my facial hair alongside makeup was so much fun. it was the first time i’ve been able to go all out without the lingering feeling in the back of my mind that dressing up means inevitably being seen as a woman. i definitely didn’t look like a cis man to any of the people who saw me, but they could clearly tell i wasn’t a cis woman at the very least, and knowing that made me so much more confident.

i’m far enough away now from being in the trenches of early recovery that the reality of the fact that i got such a big surgery has started to fade. when i really think about the fact that my body went through all of that and about how hard early recovery was, it doesn’t quite feel real anymore. i’m starting to reach the point one of my friends told me about, where my chest being like this feels so normal that it’s just like “yeah, of course, it’s always been like this, right?” it’s wild, really, the difference a couple months can make — it wasn’t that long ago that i was exhausted and arguably depressed from the early recovery process, and now it all feels so normal that i have to remind myself it took all of that to get here. i never really doubted that it would be worth it in the end, but i’m still more sure of that now than i ever have been.

the last couple months have been a long road, but somehow they’ve also flown by. it’s given me so much appreciation for my body — its potential to transform and what it’s been able to withstand. i wouldn’t trade the experience for anything.

[whimsicalwritingsandmore]

Want You Back | ateez x reader

Pairing: werewolf!ot8!ateez x werewolf!reader

Genre: fluff mostly, romance, poly, a little angst?

Warnings for this chapter: none

Word Count: 2150 words

a/n: hello!! hope you enjoy this chapter! I am curious, how is the pacing so far? while editing, I changed up a lot of scenes and spaced them out in other chapters. I'm curious to know your thoughts on how the story is flowing so far - is it too slow or is it okay? all your feedback is greatly appreciated! :)

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Chapter 5

It had been about a week and a half since Mingi's arrival, and for the most part, things took a turn for the better. Mingi was very thoughtful and patient, he was careful not to push or pressure you into doing anything you were uncomfortable with. It was difficult for him at first however, as he wasn’t sure how to begin to fix things with you.

Thankfully, when you introduced Mingi to Chan, the older wizard was kind enough to offer him advice and assist him.

“Give her space,” he explained, “Allow her the time to make her own decisions and think things through without feeling pressured. Show her that you respect her and her choices even if it might not be in your favour.”

Changbin also offered his own advice since he and Mingi shared the same birthday month and he took pride in that. 

“Do little things now and again for her. Don’t do anything over the top! Just small things like buy her a pastry or cook a meal. Send her a kind text during the day now and again. Maybe even ask to take a stroll in the evening at the park sometime.”

Most of your friends welcomed Mingi kindly even though they were quite apprehensive, given your history with him. The only one bold enough to stand his ground was Jisung. He made it particularly and significantly clear that he will not go easy on Mingi and will not hesitate to make him disappear. At first, Mingi found it humorous, seeing it as a baseless threat but Changbin indicated that Jisung could be a menace when he wanted to. So while Jisung smiled sweetly but intimidatingly in the corner of the apartment twiddling his wand in hand, Mingi blinked three times in concern and looked at you. You assured him everything was fine, but truthfully, you weren’t so sure about Mingi’s safety because you did hear about Jisung’s fearsome alter ego. But you weren’t gonna tell Mingi that. 

As for Mingi, he took a while to comprehend your new found life. Slowly, you both realised Mingi thrived better doing more physically energetic pursuits rather than standing behind the cash register with Jisung nearby watching him like a hawk. Chan offered to recruit Mingi at the apothecary to help with running errands with Hyunjin and organising and moving boxes and shelves with Felix and Jeongin. Mingi enjoyed it and felt that it was a good approach in giving you a chance to have space for yourself.

It surprised you how easy going he became with all of it, because though Mingi is kindhearted, he still was an alpha werewolf who does not necessarily do well with being told what to do. Maybe he was actually scared of Jisung? You were curious about what was going on inside his head and jokingly asked Chan if he could pick his brain.

Chan laughed and said no while Minho and Seungmin unapologetically agreed. Chan deadpanned at the two. 

"But I'm curious too!" they argued.

During the week, Chan suggested everyone should have a night out at the karaoke place. While you and Felix belted your hearts out trying to pass Seungmin and Jeongin’s high score, Mingi sat behind you, mesmerised by your voice. It was one of those moments as of recently, where he savoured your presence. He observed your newly dyed hair with streaks of blonde, your pretty hoop earrings, your beaded and charm bracelets adorning your wrists and your outfit.

He remembered vividly the first time the two of you met. You were with Hongjoong as the latter dragged you into the store for snacks while he complained that you ate all of his. Mingi was working at the store during that time and the moment all three of you came into contact, you felt the magnetic pull. It was enchanting and captivating. And meeting you introduced Mingi to another way of life. He began to feel more comfortable in his skin and who he was, you helped him to become confident and maybe even a little reckless when you appeared at his window in the early morning, recruiting him to go with you and Hongjoong to watch the sunrise. In the times when Hongjoong was unable to go, you and Mingi ventured out and spent the time talking and planning for the future.

And whereas Hongjoong was a stickler for not showing affection outside of your private space, Mingi would back hug you as you strolled down the street. The one time he did it to Hongjoong, they both rolled down the hill with Mingi landing on top of him while you watched in panic.

But at least, that's how you met Seonghwa and Yunho. 

In reminiscing, Mingi realised that you met all of them, excluding him, in smaller groups. He discovered that none of you really took the time to get to know each other personally or one on one. 

Mingi was snapped out of his daydreaming by Jisung who poked him with one of the mics. 

"Yes?"

"You weren't moving, so I was wondering if you became a statue.”

"I’m fine."

"Mhmm," he said, "Come on, let’s step outside for a minute."

Mingi was kind of concerned but still he followed him out the door cautiously.

"So are you okay?" Jisung asked.

"Why do you care?” Mingi questioned.

“I don’t really, but you are Y/N’s soulmate and I care about her. So I gotta make sure you’re not going to do something stupid and hurt her.”

“Wow.” Mingi drawled.

“So I shall ask again, are you okay?”

Mingi sighed.

Yeah I just...I realised all of us never really got to know each other personally. All of a sudden we just got together, a big group of nine, and we never took the time to spend with one another. Maybe only Hongjoong and Y/N have.”

Jisung eyed Mingi carefully before responding, "Yeah I know what you mean.”

“You do?”

Jisung rolled his eyes, “That was me when I met Minho, we clicked almost immediately and everything came so naturally, we never really took the time to just be friends and get to one another personally. You know, like really getting to each other for who we are, not just our likes and dislikes but how we operate and think."

"I feel like something happened."

"Something did…” Jisung contemplated for a moment before continuing, “We started to just expect that we would understand each other and meeting the others amplified that. So as we started to split our time, we expected certain things from each other and when it wasn't being met we would argue a lot. We expected that the other person would do things for the other and it became a whole mess."

"What did you guys do to fix it?"

"Chan intervened and we basically did what you and Y/N are doing now, and we also sought therapy from one of Chan's friends and it helped us better understand each other."

"Do you think Y/N and I should try therapy?"

"Do whatever works best for you. Therapy might be a good idea and I think you are doing well with taking your time for now. Maybe bring it up after a few weeks if you still feel like it would help. I've seen the way you’re trying.”

“Oh my gosh, did you just say something nice to me!?” Mingi gasped.

Jisung smirked, “I don’t dislike you Mingi. I’m just wary of you. I saw how broken Y/N was when she got here and she has told me little bits here and there. As her friend who also sees her as a sister, I don’t want to see her hurt again.”

Mingi felt a sense of appreciation at the way Jisung cared about you. 

"I feel bad about hurting Y/N like that,” Mingi confessed, “I’m a terrible person.”

"You’re not. You’re not a bad person, it was a terrible, terrible lapse in judgement if you ask me or whatever, but you’re learning and that’s the most important thing you can do right now, learn and not be ignorant.”

"Thanks Jisung, I feel a little better now."

"You’re welcome and I still will not hesitate to deal with you or any of the others if you hurt her. "

When it was time to leave, you walked side to side with Mingi hands in your jacket pockets as the two of you commented on the day’s events. The night was chilly but it provided the perfect opportunity in Mingi’s mind to stay in a little close proximity to you to give you more warmth. He was mindful not to overstep any boundaries but you didn’t mind this time, and allowed him to cosy up a little next to you. He had to leave to go back home tomorrow, Chan offering to open a portal and giving him a way back to you. 

Mingi didn't want to leave but the others were waiting for him. With Chan’s help, he got into contact with Yunho who he told that he needed to be away for a while after the previous dinner events. Now, he was going back to explain the matter, ask to be temporarily put on leave from his duties and express his decision to stay with you for however long he wanted. 

This time it was necessary for it to be one-on-one as Jisung educated him. He had to make it right.

He wasn't sure how the others would react but he hoped that they might come back with him at the very least maybe.

While the two of you waited for the others to catch up, you told Mingi that you were going to dispose of some wrappers in your pocket. As you rounded a corner that was a little far off where a trash can was located, your thoughts were interrupted by a strange voice.

"Well well well, if it isn't one of us." a sickly voice sang.

You turned around at the voice. You had no clue who they were exactly but judging by the tattoo on their arm, they were rogues. How were they here?

"What the heck do you want?” You questioned.

“Now, that’s no way to talk to an alpha."

“You’re not my alpha and I do not care to talk to you.”

“Aww but you’re hurting my feelings.”

"Bleh." You gagged.

They were not amused by your response and it didn't take long for them to swing at you. You dodged and tried to find a way out but after some scuffling you did end up with a bruised lip and your arm being pinned behind your back. You weren't scared at first but you needed backup and fast.

With every fibre of your being, you drowned out the taunts of the rogues and focused on your connection to Mingi. You called Mingi's name hoping he would hear.

"That's a nice necklace you have there." the sickly voice commented.

Your half moon necklace was given to you by your mates, representing your clan. You never took it off and it was your most prized possession. As the sticky finger rogue attempted to reach for it, a hand grabbed him with force and pressure. Every single one of his bones cracked gruesomely and his skin began to turn a grisly black and blue.

"Do not ever touch my mate." Mingi snarled ferociously. 

His eyes turned into his gold werewolf colour and he threw the rogue back effortlessly. You could feel the change in Mingi’s aura as he glowered dangerously at the other one that was pinning your arm and swung at him, hitting him right in the nose, a sickening crack ringing through. He scowled at the other two who stepped back seeing the infuriated alpha. They ran off leaving behind their members. 

“Pathetic.” he seethed.

As he composed himself on seeing you, Mingi rushed to help you and escort you back. He began to fuss all over you, his sentences rushing through like a waterfall.

"I got your pull, it freaked me out because I should've known better to let you go alone! I'm so glad you're okay! I'm not leaving again, I'll tell Chan to send a letter or something, are you okay!? Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Mingi…” you began, “You're going to have to go back."

"What!? No! Why!?"

You noticed something. Besides Mingi’s connection, you began to feel the pull and call of your other seven mates. Though you called for Mingi specifically when you focused your mind on him, being in danger and initiating your soul bond after so long, activated the connection for your other mates which meant that your connection to all of them that was once dormant, was now ignited.

They felt it too. You could hear their calls.

"They know."

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Tag list:

@eastleighsblog @sehun096rainbow @greensnakeglobep @satsuri3su @idfkeddieishot @zonked-times @sugarrush-blush

a/n: hi again! unfortunately, I was unable to tag you @greensnakeglobep :( I'm really sorry about this, I'm not sure why I'm not able to. if anyone could clarify how to fix this, please let me know, thank you!!

[oliver-quick-ens-my-pulse]

Let Me Show You

Ominis Gaunt x f!reader

Summary - Request by anon for "hiii! i love ur writing! could i request an ominis x slytherin!reader fic where there’s a slytherin party and they play a 7 mins in heaven type game and ominis is rlly nervous bc he’s never kissed a girl and she’s all “don’t be embarrassed i’ll teach you” and it only goes as far as like 2nd base before seb interrupts ??"

Word Count - 844

Warnings - 18+

It was near to graduation, NEWTs were all taken care of and it was easy to see why all the older students were celebrating. They had gathered in the room of requirement and you had never seen it quite as transformed as it was for your fellow Slytherins tonight.

Decorations, cakes, even some choice drinks where out. You couldn't believe you'd let yourself get dragged into such a childish game, though. Seven Minutes in Heaven they called it. It was apparently popular amongst muggle teenagers and a special closet had manifested itself for them.

You sat in a circle with an empty bottle that the lot of you were surely not supposed to have. The goal was to take turns spinning it and whomever you landed on you had to go into the closet with them for seven whole minutes to see what happened.

As two people you didn't know very well stumbled out of the closet in disarray you watched Ominis take the bottle for a spin. You weren't particularly close, but the two of you did talk and you couldn't deny how handsome he was. His milky eyes were beautiful and had never failed to make your face heat up when it felt like they were on you.

That's probably why your heart stopped when the bottle stopped pointed straight at you. You saw a faint pink color on his cheeks and ears as well. He unfolded himself from his seat with an air of confidence you didn't expect as he walked forward, wand in one hand and the other extended towards where you sat on the floor.

You could hear snickers from everyone else as they were quick to usher you into the closed space and lock you right in. You stumbled in the dark room, catching yourself with your hands on his chest.

"Well, er, hello, Y/N." He definitely lacked the swagger you'd seen in his step outside the closet and it had your nerves put at ease a little bit.

You brought your hands up his shoulders, hooking your fingers behind his neck as you remained close to him. In your mind, you were thinking you might as well take your chance since he had been playing the game after all, but he cut you off before you could do anything.

"I — I haven't actually kissed anyone before."

You could now hear how his breathing had picked up, you could feel his warm breath as you had brought the tip of your nose to meet his.

"Oh. Ominis, I — I really wouldn't have guessed. I mean, I guess you can't see yourself, but you're...really handsome." Your words trailed off as you waited from a response from him, not wanting to pressure him.

"Really? You think so?" There was a shift in his voice and you could feel relax against you a little bit, carefully trailing his hands over yours, up your shoulders, and downward to find your hips.

You carefully brought one of your hands to his cheek, brushing away some stray hairs you felt.

"Do you want me to teach you?"

A husky "yes" barely escaped his lips before you closed the gap between the two of you. You clung to him tightly, running your tongue over his lips and finding out he was a quick learner as he did the same to you. You moaned against him when he tugged on your lip with his teeth, forcing you to let him in.

He brought his hands up your sides, massaging the soft sides of your breasts. He may have been clueless when he walked in with you, but he had been without sight his whole life and proved he was a quick learner.

You reveled in the way he tipped his head back into your palm as you tugged on his hair. You felt your lower regions starting to heat up and when you pressed yourself to him, he nudged a knee between your legs, giving you his thigh to grind against.

"Shit, Ominis," you broke apart from the kiss to catch your breath, "you swear you've never done this before?"

"No," his voice was pitched lower than you had ever heard it, "but now I'm questioning why I waited so long. It must have been just for you?"

Just like that the room was invaded with bright light from the room where the party was still going on. You squinted and saw Sebastian was at the door, with his jaw dropped in disbelief.

"Ominis! They told me you were in here and I had to see for myself. You've been a dog this whole time."

You rolled your eyes as you stepped back from Sebastian, wiping your lips off. You were surprised when Ominis grabbed you by the hand.

"Sebastian maybe you should go take a spin. We have somewhere else to be now, if you'll excused us."

You gave the auburn-haired boy an almost apologetic look as Ominis dragged you past him and to another room that was new to the room of requirement.

[audreyscribes]

PJO ROMAN DEMIGOD HEADCANONS:👰🏻 JUNO: GODDESS OF MARRIAGE AND WOMAN, PATRON OF WOMEN, QUEEN OF THE GODS, COUNSELLOR OF STATE, JUNE 👑

Author’s Note: So there may be some overlap and not neccessarily a clear distinction, but I also included some stuff from the HERA DEMIGOD H/Cs I did into this, and you can see a connection between Hera and Juno. Thanks for reading! ROMAN DEMIGODS H/CS MASTERLIST LINKS: [TUMBLR] // [AO3]

Oh boy, I hope you are ready for this. There are many similarities and many differences whether or not you are a child of Hera or Juno. But whether you are a child of Hera actually doesn’t change in this case when you find yourself in the company of the Romans.

You’re absolutely given the royal treatment with carpet being rolled underneath your feet with people at your beck and call, waiting and acting for your comfort. While it may sound nice, if Camp Halfblood has the aura of uncertainty, then Camp Jupiter is the opposite. The treatment towards you is with reverence but because Juno is so revered, being her child makes you feel isolated. They see you as your mother’s daughter but not yourself; an avatar of your mother and their idol. You also become Juno’s ambassador; a different tune but in a similar manner which Nico di Angelo is Pluto’s Ambassador. When you talk, they listen to you with silence and unblinking eyes and if you want to be friends with someone, they are either too scared to or too respectful to be even called friends. You feel much like a reverent statue and much less a person.

Unlike Camp Half-blood where people are a bit skeptical and luke-warm to you at all with how unusual your existence is, Camp Jupter is the opposite. They don’t question how you were conceived because to even insinuate Juno of anything would be utter blasphemy; so no matter how you were born or conceived, you can’t even say anything because of the pressure.

You find out the reason for both the reverence and fear, beyond the general respect towards the gods. You learn of the stories of Juno and you find out just as much as Juno is the patron goddess of Rome, she has just as many times from her time as Hera to Juno, inflicted much harm and trial towards the foundation of Rome; from interfering Aeneas from founding it from the Fall of Troy to supporting the Sabines against Rome. Thus honouring her with reverence and fear is a reminder that she is both the Patron goddess of Rome, but was also its greatest enemy; and that treatment extends to you. This changes the perception of adoration from reverent and celebrity treatments towards you to something else.

Gods forbid there’s an actual child of Jupiter because the people of camp will be expecting the two of you to get together regardless of your own thoughts of it. It’s like the whole expectation of being Prom Queen and the Prom King having to date each other and be absolutely happy in that arrangement. It's as if Venus has been conspiring with the people of Rome to put you together for her own amusement; and considering how much power Venus has with the Romans, that’s not far-fetched either. If Camp Half-blood has a son of Zeus, then expect the people of Rome doing their absolute damn best for the two of you to get together even if they have to make it happen in any way possible.

If a child of Jupiter is expected to be with a child of Venus as an alternative, aside from a child of Jupiter, you’re expected to be together with a child of Janus, god of beginnings and passages. This is because of the relationship between Juno and Janus is reflected in their association with the kalendae (Roman calendar) of every month, particularly the first days, belonging to them both, as well as the festival of the Tigillum Sororium. Though not in the same realm, you’re accompanied by a child of Mars, since Mars is Juno’s son and the guardian of the Romans, so it would only be natural to have a child of Mars to accompany a child of Juno. So you’re given a body-guard basically which you can’t refute.

You oversee many of the rites, events, and meetings of Camp Jupiter and New Rome. Its less of your own accord and much like a child of Jupiter, both Jupiter and Juno are part of Rome itself, so you’re going to be forced to listen and be involved in the inner workings of Rome whether you like it or not. You feel much like every prince and princess of any royal family, expecting you be just as much of a Queen/King/Monarch, with your every move and words being watched for, even your breathing. You feel the non-existent crown on your head weighing heavier and heavier, it’s band tightening over your head as you have to keep your neck and head straight up.

I don’t think you’ll be put into a cohort but if you have to be put into one, you’ll be associated with the 1st cohort. Again, not because of your own achievements but because you’re Juno’s ambassador with both the reverence and fear mixed in. 

[musicalmoritz]

Whose your favorite tbhk character?

Ahhhhhhh I’m so glad you asked this!! It’s easily Teru, no competition. I decided he was going to be my favorite before I even read the manga and I have stood by that decision, everything I read about him only makes me love him more. Since this is a primarily ship account, a femslash account at that, I don’t get to talk about him as much as I would like to but I absolutely LOVE Teru he is my son

It’s so refreshing to see an older sibling in anime that isn’t abusive, I’m so used to seeing ones that absolutely suck ass. Don’t get me wrong, I love a lot of those characters too, but it’s nice to see an older sibling character that actually acts like an oldest sibling. Everything he does is for Kou and Tiara, he adores both of them. He always looks at and talks to them so fondly but we still catch scenes of him teasing them like siblings do (the donut scene with Kou). He acts very parental with both of them which is sweet, Minamoto dad who?? I only know Teru

I also like that he falls into the Gandalf archetype of “strong character that everyone else relies on to save the day”. Part of me hopes he dies just so we can see what the characters would do without him lol, but there are other ways to write him out for that development. Put him in a box like Gojo, or have him get arrested like Dazai. Tbh anything would be more interesting than him ending the series staring sadly at Akane and Aoi as they walk into the sunset without him. Best case scenario, let him quit his job!! Let him be somebody’s malewife, I don’t care who just give that boy a break. Let him pull a Maki Zenin on the Minamoto Clan

And yeah speaking of the clan, Teru’s angst is obviously a large part of why I like him. He didn’t get a childhood, and he’s forced to continue with a job he hates so that his siblings don’t have to. I love those type of characters tbh, they make me so sad. He’s morally gray and I love that but I also find his reasons for doing what he does to be very admirable, I would do the same if I were in his shoes. He sacrifices all his free time to protect the city from supernaturals, bro is just casually the Batman of the TBHK universe. And he does it mainly for his siblings, which circles back to the “good big brother” thing. It’s not a reach to assume he has trauma from fighting supernaturals at such a young age (and for so long), so I understand why he has a hard time seeing the good in them. That makes it extra interesting when he decides Akane is an exception

I love his personality, he’s the embodiment of the word “silly.” I like his sadistic side, sadist characters are so fun to me (Minamoto Typical Sadism mention). I like that he’s charming to his classmates and generally kind to all humans, despite all the cruel things he’s been through. He doesn’t want any other humans to suffer like he has so he treats them with kindness and vows to protect them. And most of all I like the way he acts around his friends and siblings, particularly Akane!! He acts like a normal teenager around him and we get to see just how socially awkward he actually is when he’s being himself. But he also doesn’t hold back with Akane, he doesn’t feel the need to show him the same respect he shows others so his sadist side really comes out when they’re together. Many fans seem to assume that Teru ONLY acts his age around Akane but that’s not true, he acts that way around Nene and Aoi too!! And with Aoi he shows a bit of his darker side, though he’s not mean to her the way he is with Akane

I love his atrocious sense of fashion, I love his terrible cooking skills, I love how scheming and shady he can be, I love how caring he is towards others, I love his speech patterns. It’s the exact opposite of Kendrick and Drake, I love everything about this man. He’s my silly little guy, my gay best friend, my skrunkly dude. He’s clearly under a lot of pressure and he’s still super young so I cut him way more slack than most fans do, my little sister is also 17 and she’s a baby in my eyes so Teru is too

Oh, what are my favorite scenes of his? I like when he agreed to help Kou catch bugs without knowing the context, I like when he randomly started venting to Akane, him taking out the roof of that train, what he did with the pepperonis, the entire sequence of his first day off, the zombie chapter…ugh I love this guy. I love writing him. I need to write Teru again

Thank you so much for this ask, I love whenever I have an excuse to infodump about my favorite characters lol. And for those of you that were wondering, my second favorite is Kou. Ty ty

[pinkberrytea]

✨Writing Interview Tag Game✨

Eeee tysm for the tag @nyx-knox and @honeybee-bard! 🥹🙌❣️

When did you start writing?

I used to write fanfiction when I was 13 years old, but as an adult, this is actually my first time dabbling in creative writing! I released my first work back in April, crazy to think it’s been barely four months since I started!

Are there different themes or genres you enjoy reading than what you write?

Horror and mystery are actually my favorite genres, though I'm not sure I'd be able to pull either off? I should give it a go one day, maybe!

Is there a writer you want to emulate or get compared to often?

To be honest any comparisons at all would make me plenty happy since I barely consider myself a writer 😅 There are some people in the fandom who are endless sources of inspiration for me though, all authors in my recs list and ao3 bookmarks, for starters.

Can you tell me a bit about your writing space?

No BG3 merch sadly, yet!

What's your most effective way to muster up a muse?

Just daydreaming honestly. Also listening to music helps plenty! Researching lore and brainstorming ideas with friends too. But mostly just daydreaming!

Are there any recurring themes in your writing? Do they surprise you?

Hurt and comfort, and also angst. Lots of it, for some reason. It does surprise me how angsty all my writing ends up coming across, but I try to balance it out with some melodramatic fluff, I guess? I do want to try my hand at some less serious/more lighthearted themes eventually though, branch out a little!

What is your reason for writing?

Coping, mostly. Also as a sort of therapy, to sort out my feelings about themes that are important to me and that I’ve been processing through media. And no less relevant, simply as a self-indulgent outlet! I write what I myself would like to read.

Is there any specific comment or type of comment you find particularly motivating?

Every single comment is incredibly motivating for me, but of course, I do twirl my hair and kick my feet whenever someone tells me about which passages they liked the best and how they specifically felt about a certain scene. Also, whenever people pick up on a detail I was sure would go by unnoticed!

How do you want to be thought about by your readers?

I want my readers to think of me as a friend, as someone who is always accessible and up for talking about writing, be it mine or just in general!

What do you feel is your greatest strength as a writer?

Oh, this is a toughie. I have a very flowery and verbose style, though I’m not sure that’s a strength? I guess it could be, depending on your preferences. It’s a bit of a double-edged sword, really.

How do you feel about your own writing?

I don’t think highly of it from a technical standpoint, but I do pour my heart and soul into every single piece, and that makes them all special to me.

When you write, are you influenced by what others might enjoy reading, or do you write purely for yourself, or a mix of both?

I can sincerely say I write mostly for myself, otherwise I wouldn’t even be able to write anything at all because I don’t think I could live up to anyone’s expectations. Though of course, the feedback I receive on a piece may in fact influence whether I feel inspired to expand on it or just move on to something new. Even if I’m typically my own main target audience, comments are always greatly appreciated!

No pressure tags ✨ @locallegume, @judasiskariot, @inkymoonbunny, @starryjuicebox and @kalmiaphlox!

[moonisthedoor]

ok here's the deal. i post this on here and then maybe i'll crosspost it to ao3 but this was actually originally posted on ao3 in 2022 i just deleted it after like 12 hours for no reason. but anyway

rated T for swearing, No Entities AU wth questionable timeline, GerryMichael <3

The bag hits the floor with a dull thump, and Gerry briefly considers joining it there before thinking better of it. With a heavy sigh, he closes a door behind himself and just stands in the hallway for a moment, his eyes half-closed. God, he’s a mess.

He takes off his headphones first; they’re big and thick-padded, chosen specifically to block out as much sound as possible even when he’s not playing music because otherwise public transport would be impossible to bear. Right now, though, in the quiet of his own apartment, they feel too obstructive and heavy on his head. 

The next thing he does is take the elastic out of his hair, hissing quietly as the pressure on his scalp lets up. He put it in a tight bun when leaving work so there’s less chance of it getting stuck somewhere – there were incidents – and he’s pretty sure that before that he’s been wearing it in a ponytail since probably lunch, so. Not good. Better now, but he knows it’ll take a bit for the headache to subside.

He lets out a quiet string of curses as he leans down to unlace his boots; he found that for some reason swearing helps with the stress and the various aches in his body and since there’s no one around, he doesn’t feel embarrassed about whispering “fucking hell” to himself at a particularly stubborn knot.

Well, almost no one.

“Rough day?” Michael asks softly, standing in the doorway to the kitchen. Gerry finally manages to take his boots off and straightens up to look at his wonderful and very pretty boyfriend who works a normal 9-to-5 job and has probably been waiting for him for…

“What time is it?” he asks and cringes at the way his voice sounds.

“Half past eight.”

“Shit.” For the millionth time in his life, Gerry seriously contemplates quitting. 

Michael winces in sympathy and takes a step closer.

“You want a hug?” he asks, opening his arms. Gerry falls into him instead of answering, still in his coat, burying his face in Michael’s shoulder. Michael pets his hair softly. “Let me guess: Elias was a bitch again?”

“Mhmm.”

“And then one of the statement givers said something that reminded you of another bad memory and you were already not feeling great?”

“Eurgh.”

“And you didn’t mean to be so passive aggressive to them because it’s not their fault and now you feel bad but also fuck them all and at least it’s Friday today so you don’t have to go back to work tomorrow?”

“You know me so well,” Gerry sighs into Michael’s shirt. He feels his smile even without looking up.

“Come on,” Michael says, gently coaxing him back up. “Take your coat off and then we can eat and you can bitch about work.”

“Mm. We have food?”

“I made pasta.”

“I love you,” Gerry says, putting his coat on the coat hanger. “There’s ice cream in the bag.”

“Oh?” Michael perks up. “Did you –”

“Yes, I got mint chocolate for you. Though I still think it tastes like toothpaste.”

“Maybe you should stop eating toothpaste then, dear,” Michael sing-songs, picking up the bag and waltzing back into the kitchen.

“Fuck you,” Gerry calls after him but he’s smiling as he heads into the bedroom.

He changes quickly; briefly considers keeping his binder on but by this point he knows pain would bother him more than anything else tonight. He usually wears oversized clothes at home anyways – and besides, it’s only him and Michael here. It’s alright.

There’s a bowl of pasta on the table in the living room when Gerry returns, and Michael’s already cross-legged on the couch with another one in his lap, flipping through the channels on TV. It’s so domestic Gerry has to stop and take in the sight for a moment. 

Something inside of him aches – but it’s a good ache.

“What’s the matter?” Michael asks, looking away from the TV. Gerry shakes his head:

“Nothing. Just… admiring the view.”

He’ll never get tired of seeing Michael blush.

“Oh, shush, you. Get over here and eat before the food gets cold.”

Gerry finishes his pasta surprisingly quickly; honestly, he hadn’t even thought he was that hungry but then again, the last time he ate was lunch and that was six hours ago. This is his third meal of the day, though, so Gerry mentally counts it as a win.

“More?” Michael asks when he sets his now-empty bowl back down.

“Maybe later,” Gerry says. He waits until Michael finishes his own food and then, with both bowls safely on the table, flops down into Michael’s lap face-first. Michael giggles, startled.

“I need to wash the dishes,” he says. “And we still have the ice cream.”

“Later,” Gerry repeats, turning on his side so he can see the TV better. Michael laughs again but doesn’t protest, his hands moving to slowly card through Gerry’s hair. 

“Okay?” he asks.

In two days, Gerry thinks, he’ll have to go back to work, and suffer through annoying statement givers again, and try his best not to strangle Elias. But there’s a weekend ahead of him, a whole forty-eight hours when he has full right not to do anything except hold his boyfriend close and watch mediocre shows on Netflix and order takeout. 

And maybe all of his problems won’t magically go away by Monday even if he desperately wishes they would. But it’ll still be enough to get him through another week.

“‘s perfect,” he mumbles, looking up at Michael and smiling.

Michael beams back. 

Yeah. It’s enough.

[intersex-support]

Hi! Questioning intersex here, kinda leaning on the side of “not intersex but still relates enough to the community to be curious and either way would want more resources on supporting intersex people.” I have PCOS, and my testosterone is higher than average. However it’s not so high that I appear particularly “not feminine” (eg having a beard (I have wispy things on my neck but not like an actual beard), different distribution of body weight, other stuff that testosterone does). I also feel like I was kinda forcibly feminized in a way? If that makes sense/is the right terminology? I had precocious puberty and people (2nd and 3rd graders, they weren’t trying to be hurtful but still) would always comment on my breasts and weight and acne, and I kept hearing people calling me “girl girl girl” and only focusing on the ways puberty made me more feminine, while never noticing the effects testosterone on me (I’ve had more leg hair than my (very hairy) dad since age 8 lol). Plus ever since I came out as trans, the people I didn’t hide my puberty from still misgendered me all the time so????

This is very long sorry so I guess what I’m trying to ask is I do have a thing that I’ve been seeing intersex people saying counts as intersex, but I don’t present in a way that other people respond to as anything but perisex, and if there’s any resources on stuff like this that you have I would appreciate

(also seriously sorry this is a very very long run-on sentence lol)

Hey anon,

Thanks for reaching out.

From my perspective, you are absolutely welcome to identify as intersex, and that the intersex community is your community. Major intersex organizations like InterACT, InterConnect, and tons of organizations globally all welcome people with PCOS as intersex. At the US national intersex conference this summer, I went there and met a ton of people with PCOS at the conference, and no one debated whether or not they were "intersex enough"--they were just valuable members of our community who have their own perspectives and intersex experience.

One beautiful thing about the intersex community is that intersex is an umbrella term for so many variations and experiences. There is no one intersex experience, and even within diagnoses, there is so much diversity in terms of what our lives look like. Some of us grow up our whole life knowing that we're intersex, while others find out in puberty or adulthood. Some of us are "visibly" intersex and experience what it's like to have visible sex traits outside the binary, while others of us have less visible traits. Some of us have a lot of interactions with the medical system, while some of us have very little medical intervention. All of these are real and important ways of being intersex, and one of them isn't "more intersex" than another.

The things you've described in your ask really resonate with me as things that I've heard a lot of other intersex people talk about. Your experience with high testosterone, the way other people react to puberty, sex characteristics, and your body are things that a lot of other intersex people can relate to. It makes a lot of sense to me that you would feel like there were ways that you were feminized coercively and forcibly, and I think that is a really key example of ways that societal intersexism can still affect us even if we aren't read as intersex by everyone in our lives. Even if people perceive and respond to you as perisex, your experiences are still shaped by your own internal knowledge, identity, body, and history.

Of course, you are under no pressure to label yourself any way that feels uncomfortable to you, or start participating in ways that feel overwhelming. You are the authority over your own life, and can use what terminology feels the most helpful and resonant for you. But know that the intersex community is here for you in whatever way that looks like for you. Some resources that might be helpful: Is PCOS intersex Video by Hans Lindhal, another article by Hans Lindhal, and this article by Gillian Giles.

Sending love and solidarity, anon <3

[twst-drabbles]

Savanaclaw 3

Summary: All three pets liked to be pat in different ways.

(Adorable, truly. Ah, I’m actually pretty bored so I kinda want people to come in and ask me questions. Or even just say something to me.)

Ruggie loves his face massages. Just, cradle his head in your palm and rub all you want, you can even squish it if you want to. The harder, the better. Sometimes he’ll get a little carried away and try to shove his head right onto your nails. It doesn’t hurt him, if anything he melts even more and releases these little growls that would cause all dog owners to clutch their pups in fear.

One time he even fell asleep with his face flat against your palm. It was a deep sleep too, complete with leg twitches and everything. You suspect that Ruggie often dreams of running, since that’s what his legs usually do while sleeping. A kicker. It’s funny and adorable.

Jack is a bit of a moody boy. Often he hates to touched in some spots, such as his back and ears, other times he wants you lather all your affection onto them. It really depends on what Jack wants. He usually makes it clear without any miscommunication.

His favorite spot that always gets the okay is the place between his shoulder blades. You don’t scratch it hard like you do Ruggie, you massage it as best you can. While Jack is bigger than most of the others, he still isn’t bigger than your hands. Usually a finger will do against his back. If Jack is feeling particularly huffy, you dig the pad of your finger right in that spot, circling it without end. Still no nails, it’s all pressure.

Jack doesn’t growl so much as he releases a very low, very long groan.

Leona is…surprisingly predictable, provided he wants you to get close. He’s not a pet that makes much noise. In fact, you seldom remember the last time he made any noise at all beyond the annoyed growls. So when you do get the chance to pet him, it’s usually a quiet affair.

Well, quiet, save for the firm smacks of your fingertips on Leona’s lower back. No head scratches unless he’s sleepy, and absolutely no belly rubs. Only fast and firm butt smacks. Anytime he wants them, he’s usually within comfortable smacking distance, laying on his belly with his tail facing you.

One time you tried to go light, just to tease Leona and he actually swiped at your hand, ears flat against his head. He really doesn’t know when to take a joke. Grumpy little thing, thinks he’s the boss of your house.

The best part about smacking Leona’s back was when he raised his butt higher. The base of his tail would fluff up, but other than that, nothing about Leona’s face would change. Though, his eyes are thinned to a comfortable glare. It’s one of the way to both lull him to sleep or wake him up. Really depends on what mood Leona is in.

[cursedonyx]

Okay so I just read your Professor Sharp and Garlick fic and I honestly can’t tell you how much I loved it. So I was wondering if you’d be interesting in writing any additional Professor Sharp smut.

It could be with Garlick again or perhaps someone outside of Hogwarts (like someone who works at Hogsmeade or the Ministry) or even a muggle if you wanted to go that route. Obviously I’m terrible at making decisions so feel free to pick whatever scenario intrigues you the most!

As far as the details of their relationship I guess it depends on the scenario but I wouldn’t mind something sort of similar to your last fic where they’ve at least known each other for a while and can call themselves friends who are in love with each other (I also wouldn’t mind a tiny bit of jealousy being sprinkled in somehow if that’s not too many things all in one🙈).

Also please don’t feel pressured to write this if it’s not particularly igniting anything for you! I love your writing so much so thank you for even just reading this!💕

Thank you for the request, and sorry it took longer than I thought it would, life can be a real sod sometimes!

I decided to use this as an excuse to continue the Sharp/Garlick fic of before, because why the hell not? Hope it’s what you wanted 💚

Word Count – 2.7k

Warnings – Smut (MDNI 🔞) Jealousy, PiV, Fingering, On the Desk

It had been almost a week since Aesop had allowed himself a single night of indulgence with the fire-haired enchantress that had captured his mind, body and soul with a single look. He could almost pinpoint when he had first become truly entranced with the young and beautiful Mirabel Garlick, the moment she had returned to Hogwarts as no longer a student, but a professor, and his curiosity with her bloomed into obsession.

The years of secret, seemingly mutual pining had paid off, for they had finally ended up tangled in the sheets together after a night of drinking with their colleagues, and everything about it had been perfect. Well, it would have been, were it not for the fact she’d been gone by the time he woke up, leaving nothing but single, long red hair on his pillow and an ache in his cock to convince him it hadn’t all been a dream.

The following days meandering through the quiet halls of Hogwarts reminded him somewhat of a Confundus Charm. When he saw her in the corridors or at meals, she was as cordial and polite and pleasant as she’d ever been, offering wide, warm smiles and engaging him in spirited talk, just as she did with the other professors. Aesop frowned. Surely there would have been some change? Had he really disappointed her so severely she wished to pretend nothing had happened between them?

He elected to remain silent on the matter. If Mirabel wanted to act like they hadn’t done utterly sinful things to each other, then that was fine. He had the memories, at least. She was half his age, and deserved better than a crippled, scarred former Auror. He would be cordial to her, and hope his infatuation didn’t drive him to do something stupid.

He made his way to Hogsmeade, his boots crunching in fresh snow, hoping his order of rare potion ingredients had arrived at J. Pippin’s at last. An afternoon of sorting out his stores would hopefully keep his mind off the shape Mirabel’s breasts made when he slammed his cock into her.

Unfortunately, Mirabel and her breasts remained firmly at the forefront of his mind, to the point where the thoughts of her actually seemed to summon her into being as Aesop rounded the corner and saw her in the flesh just outside of Spintwitches, holding a small, wicker basket, smiling and laughing and stroking her plaits and talking to another man.

Aesop froze, the cold air nipping his cheeks as a searing fury rushed through his torso. He knew that man, the gangly little fuckwit barely four years out of Hogwarts, and if the rumours were anything to go by, firmly in the pocket of Rookwood’s notorious little gang. And he was simpering at Mirabel, his gap-toothed grin wide, his weak attempt at flirting so painfully obvious it made Aesop want to cringe.

Or curse him into oblivion.

His ingredients could wait. Aesop strode through the crowd, coming up behind Mirabel, his glower searing over her shoulder and landing directly on the pimply-faced youth, watching with satisfaction as his gawky smile faded, his wandering eyes growing wide as he stumbled back a step.

“Professor Sharp!” he gasped, and Mirabel turned, fluttering her eyelashes as she saw how close he was. “H-how nice to see you-“

“Hop it,” Aesop advised. The aspiring Ashwinder bolted almost before the second word was out of his mouth. With a satisfied huff, he glanced down at Mirabel, and his breath caught when he realised just how close they were. Neither moved away.

“I see you still strike fear into the hearts of your former students,” she said, softly, ducking her head and fiddling with her basket.

“I expect that is because that particular former student is well on his way to becoming a Dark Wizard,” Aesop muttered. He’d have to notify his former colleagues in the Auror office, especially if the little gyp was sniffing around Mirabel. He raised a hand, hesitated, then laid it on her shoulder. “Allow me to escort you back to the castle.”

“I’d like that,” Mirabel said, with a shy smile. She rested a hand on his arm, allowing him to lead the way, his scowl clearing a path through the crowd more effectively than Bombarda.

Walking the path back to the castle, he was acutely aware of the gentle weight of her hand on his forearm, sliding around to rest in the crook of his elbow, their breath misting before them. He kept his silence, longing to say something to turn the steadily solidifying air between them into something light and jovial, but he’d never been any good at that. And besides, her stalwart refusal to mention their drunken escapade made it clear to him she’d thought it a mistake.

It irritated him. This was the problem with obsessing over someone so young. They never said what was on their mind. He should move on, and stop thinking about the way her skin was a gentle peach, the way the shape of her legs showed even through her robes as she walked, the way her breasts bounced with each step…

And she’d been talking to another man. Not a professor, not even a friend, just some oik she used to know. He glowered as they entered the castle, her hand sliding off his arm as he gave her a curt nod and moved off in the direction of his office.

She followed.

Mirabel followed him all the way to his office, her light footsteps scuffing over the stone floor. Merlin, even the sound of her footsteps was enchanting to him, reminding him how light she was, how easy it was to pick her up to manhandle her, to throw her down to the bed and-

Aesop clenched his jaw. He shouldn’t be thinking like this, not at all!

But then… she wasn’t fragile. She was stronger than she looked, if the strength of her grip on his cock was anything to go by…

He cursed under his breath, shouldering into his office. He swore again when he realised he’d completely forgotten to pick up his rare ingredients. He lowered himself to sit behind his desk, wondering if Pippin would be kind enough to send them to the castle by urgent owl.

“Aesop?”

Mirabel hovered before the desk, the basket held before her legs, the V her arms made emphasising the swell of her breasts, pushing them together. “Is something wrong?”

He almost laughed. Yes, a great many things were wrong, chief of which was her bloody refusal to even acknowledge they’d slept together! But he couldn’t tell her that. If he was to have any chance of lying with her again, like he craved, he couldn’t afford to frighten her away.

But he was still pissed off.

“You should know better,” he said, firmly. “Rookwood’s little gang are notorious, and it’s not safe to associate with any of them.”

Mirabel raised her brows.

“Aesop, I’m not a student anymore,” she said, defensively. “I knew him from when we were both pupils here, he just wanted to say hello. We used to study together in the library on Wednesdays.”

“Yes, I’m sure a hello was the only thing on his mind,” Aesop clenched his jaw as Mirabel placed her basket on the desk and put her hands on her hips, emphasising their curves and pulling the material of her robes taut across her belly. He tried very hard not to look. “As a teacher of this school, it’s even more important that you’re not seen to be… fraternising with dangerous criminals.”

She frowned. “I wasn’t fraternising,” she said. “I was just being friendly. I hope you don’t think you have to watch my back all the time, I’m quite capable of making my own decisions and dealing with whatever consequences stem from them.”

A chill shivered over his shoulders, and he rose, striding to her and taking her face in his hands. Her skin was soft and warm and smooth, nothing like the rough stubble that coated his coarse skin.

“I won’t allow it,” he rumbled. “Mirabel, you must be more careful. If something happened to you…”

“I don’t need you looking out for me,” she whispered, her hands rising to his.

Aesop took a breath. Another denial, another refusal. It hurt more than he cared to admit, more than a single night of passion warranted. He had to hear her say it properly, to move on.

“I want to look out for you,” he said, brushing his thumbs over her cheeks. “Mirabel… I understand if you don’t want me, that night in Hogsmeade was… well. But I understand if you feel it was a mistake.”

Her slender brows drew together. “Mistake? Aesop, I don’t think that at all.”

He paused. A mixed signal. He didn’t like mixed signals. “You haven’t said a word about it,” he said. “You’ve been acting like nothing changed.”

“I didn’t think anything had,” she said, taking his hands from her face and slowly lowering them, his fingers drifting along her neck. “My feelings for you haven’t changed, why should my behaviour? I rather thought you believed it was a mistake, you’ve barely said three words to me since.”

He blinked. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying I still want you,” she whispered, lowering his hands to her breasts, small and firm under her winter robes. “I still want to be with you. You’ve cast a spell on me, Professor, and I have no desire to escape its bonds.”

Her words sent a bolt of electricity through him, stiffening his spine and cock simultaneously. Hearing her call him Professor in that soft voice of hers, the mention of bonds conjuring the image of silken ropes around her velvety wrists in a candlelit chamber, the fact that she still wanted him, despite his fears. There was no butterbeer to smooth the way this time, no, they were both stone cold sober, and by the flush blooming over her throat as he cupped her breasts, she was as invested in what was to come next as he was.

He tucked a hand around her waist, the other winding under her plaits to cup the back of her neck, drawing her close to him. Her lips were an inch away from his own, and he hesitated, the old fears bounding through his mind. Relationships between the staff was frowned upon, and if Phineas caught wind of any affiliation other than one that was strictly professional… besides, she was too young, he was too old, she was too beautiful, he was too gruff, she was lithe and supple and perfect and deserving of more, he was in his forties and crippled and scarred and…

Mirabel closed the distance, sealing her plump lips to his with a gentle sigh. Aesop responded without thought, kissing her fiercely as she wound her arms around his neck, relishing the softness of her lips, the gentle, rose-scented breath that rushed over his tongue. He gripped the back of her robes, his hand flattening against the small of her back, and the temptation to tear them from her form was almost overwhelming, each of her soft moans slipping between her lips, into his ears and straight down to his cock, throbbing against his leg.

He pushed her back against the desk, her tongue flicking out to run over his as he lifted her onto it, her legs parting for him, rising to wrap around his waist and tugging him against her. He repressed a growl with difficulty, but a low sound rumbled in his chest all the same, and Mirabel sighed, sinking against him.

“I love it when you do that, Aesop,” she said, batting her eyelashes at him, a wicked smirk on her lips. “You have no idea what it does to me.”

He did growl this time, and he didn’t think he could have held it in if he tried. He groped for her robes as her hands slid over the buttons of his waistcoat, the cold air of his office nipping at his skin as his waistcoat and then shirt came undone under her nimble fingers. He slid her robes up over her slender thighs as she brushed her fingers over his chest, tracing the dark hair spread over his torso. Aesop returned the favour, prying apart the buttons at the top of her robes, revealing the small peaks of her marbled breasts, ducking his head to take one of the rosebuds into his mouth.

Mirabel moaned, the sound music to his ears as he wound his tongue around her nipple, savouring the sweetness of her flesh. Her hands gripped his hair, encouraging him, and with a wicked grin, he denied her, raising his head to kiss her again, his hand sliding along her slender thigh to dance over the tight curls hidden between them. She whimpered, tilting her hips up to his hand.

“Aesop…” she whined, writhing. “Please touch me.”

The keening words cut through him, flaying his desire open and leaving nothing but hunger for her. It was all he could do to restrain himself from the sinful sounds she made as he sank his fingers into her, pressing his thumb to her most sensitive parts. Mirabel whined, grasping handfuls of his coat as she rutted herself against his hand, each drawn breath expulsed in a sharp gasp.

It was a struggle to keep his focus as she whimpered and wailed against his movements, his fingers curling up to rub over the most sensitive parts of her, buried deep in the core of her being. Her hands slid down to his belt, fumbling with the fastening as he attended to her, her face pressed to his shoulder, her luscious hair coming undone from its plaits as she drew his cock out, her slender fingers gliding along him and making him shudder.

With a yelp, Mirabel pushed his hands away, the force of it enough to make him stagger back a pace. A frown crossed his brow as she gazed up at him, her expression wild. She leaned back on the desk, parting her legs further and gracing him with a full view of her sex, her parted lips and glimmering green eyes failing to draw his gaze away.

“Come on in,” she purred.

He launched forward and slammed into her, the force of it pushing her back onto the desk. She let out a cry of passion, her hands grasping at his back as she hooked her legs around him, muffling her voice against his shoulder. Aesop’s mind scattered as he was enveloped in fire, gasping some himself as she tightened her walls around him. He gripped the desk, a hand braced against her back as she writhed, a heat condensing in his abdomen as his hips flexed faster of their own accord.

Shit, not yet, not yet!

With a low growl, he drew back from her, his cock drenched, ignoring her whine of protest. He tugged her forward and turned her around, bending her over the desk, yanking her robes up to expose the perfect peach of her arse. He slid back into her, her high-pitched whimper music to his ears, pressing his chest to her back as he thrust into her repeatedly, his teeth at her neck, one hand rising to wrap gently around her throat. His other hand found hers as she began to gasp and cry out in earnest, her legs taut against his, her arse shaking with each merciless pound of his cock.

Aesop’s release was sudden and breathtaking, pitching him forward to crash against her back with an almost startled yelp as she clenched around him, draining him dry. He took a moment to catch his breath, each ragged inhale taking in the scent and taste of her luxurious hair, dishevelled and coming loose from its plaits. He raised his head, seeing her cheek pressed to his desk, her eyes half-lidded and clouded with bliss, a line of drool sliding from her lips to pool on his paperwork.

“Aesop…” she murmured. “I-if this is what it’s going to be like all the time…”

He managed a low laugh. “I hope so, Mirabel.” He pressed a gentle kiss to her cheek, unwilling to withdraw from her just yet. “But next time, let’s find somewhere a bit more comfortable.”

[acti-veg]

I’ve been vegan since before I met my partner, and he’s been a bug and reptile enthusiast since before he met me.

He REALLY wants to buy something. Tarantulas, snakes, cockroaches, fish. He has bought bugs and reptiles from breeders in the past but we currently have nothing but my childhood cat, and feeding him is emotionally taxing enough. Every time he asks i say I’m unsure, i need to do more research. I dont want to debate him on anything but he is insistent that breeders are vital for species conservation.

Ive come to the conclusion absolutely no carnivorous pets, no reptile breeders. A reptile is relatively easy to find as a rescue where I live and I think animal rescue is one of the most vegan things you can do. But what about bugs? Can you rescue a bug? I still feel very wrong about buying and breeding them and keeping them in a tank like little decorations. We have a couple snails in a jar that hitched a ride on some apples we harvested and I feel real terrible about not just letting them go. I feel at a loss, bugs and reptiles are his passion and i dont want to take that away from him but I dont know if he’ll ever see them the way I do. I grew up watching my reptiles suffer in poor conditions because my mom looked at them like toys, i used to beg my sister to release her buckets full of hundreds grasshoppers dying all over each other and be told no, shes “learning” about them. The thought of being back in a home surrounded by miserable animals makes me feel sick.

I used to be deeply involved in this world when I was younger, and none of it is about conservation. Most reptile and exotic enthusiasts more generally are little more than collectors, and the live trade of endangered animals in particularly is inextricably linked to poachers and wild caught species. That’s how they get here in the first place.

There is really no way to argue that breeders who sell exotic animals to the public are essential for species conservation… Most actual conservationists would point out how the exact opposite is true, given the problem of wild-caught exotics, and the problem of feral populations establishing themselves extremely quickly in many places, and they’re very hard to dislodge once they get a foothold, as Florida has found with many reptiles and arachnids. He wants to acquire an exotic animal because he likes them, which is fine, but he can’t really pretend he’s doing it to support conservation.

You can adopt these animals, including arachnids but they’re far less commonly available. They are generally sold, because the exotic pet trade is alive and well, and quite profitable for breeders. Why give away an exotic animal when you can sell them? Regardless, the point of doing that should be to save an animal who won’t otherwise get adopted, not to acquire an exotic animal, which is too often the motivation.

I also found people massively underestimate just how much space these animals should have, the 3x4 vivariums most are kept in are just miserable for them, and they need a lot of stimulation and attention. You’d need the space for it, the money to feed them a high quality diet, all the equipment, he’d need to find a herbivorous animal up for adoption, and be able to guarantee he has the time to give them what they need. If he can do all that and you’d still not be comfortable, then your vote matters on this as much as his does, since you’re also going to have to live there.

I do want to emphasise though, that not wanting to share your home with exotic animals is not taking away his passion, and you shouldn’t feel pressured. I’m passionate about reptiles too, it’s just that now that I’m older I know that I don’t need to own any to do that. He may have to learn the same lesson too, if you’re really not comfortable with it.

Regardless, I think that he needs to be the one to do the research and show it to you, he needs to tell you what this would actually look like, show you adoptable animals, tell you where in the house they’d live, how the set up would be, how he’d feed them, what species, how many etc. You can’t really make an informed decision on that and come to a compromise without that information.

[tomorrowxtogether]

YEONJUN: “I never want to forget that I can’t take anything for granted”

TOMORROW X TOGETHER The Name Chapter: TEMPTATION comeback interview

2023.02.06

Everything, everywhere is full of passion. It’s cheerful. Friendly. This is YEONJUN’s world.

You brought a book of poetry for the gift exchange you held with the other members for your holiday Weverse Live.

YEONJUN: I’m not a heavy reader but I got inspired after seeing some nice quotes and poems on social media. And I thought it would be nice to show them to those who are having a hard time around me. I think I’m good at using wordplay in my lyrics but not so much at incorporating my emotions, so I thought poetry books might help.

The lyrics you wrote for the track “Farewell, Neverland” off the latest album are sentimental.

YEONJUN: And yet it wasn’t particularly difficult. I always watch a lot of movies and have a good imagination. My MBTI has N, after all. (laughs) I’ve had a rich imagination ever since I was young so I used to imagine myself as a movie character and act like one. I wrote the lyrics to “Farewell, Neverland” by picturing myself as one of the boys who wants to play with Peter Pan. They don’t want to grow up but they have no choice but to leave Neverland if they’re going to keep developing and moving forward. I wrote it from the perspective of resisting Peter Pan’s temptation.

Conversely, the lead single “Sugar Rush Ride” and the song “Devil by the Window” explore what temptation and giving into it looks like. I’d say you tried recording with some new vocal styles that you never used before.

YEONJUN: You know, if you’re tempting someone you don’t just say, (dryly) “Come here.” You have to say it in a sly and sexy voice. (laughs) So I went over the top for some parts, abandoning my normal self and getting into the role of the devil, then for other parts I really exaggerated my vocals and tried to make the expressions as strong as possible.

What was it like writing lyrics for “Happy Fools” (feat. Coi Leray)? I was curious to see if there would be a moment you give into temptation, seeing as you’re usually so hardworking.YEONJUN: I really sympathize with the idea of wanting to have fun, so I kept that in mind while writing the lyrics. But, to be honest, even when I’ve had a hard time, the worst it ever gets is I can’t concentrate quite as well or I practice a little less. I never once completely gave up on anything. So you’re saying you’ve always done everything you have to. (laughs) Don’t you ever feel like blowing everything off, even just occasionally?YEONJUN: Even if I thought about it, I don’t think I could actually go through with it. It’s already such an inborn habit and just the way I work. What if you magically had one day where you’re allowed to live life however you want—a day where you won’t get tired for tomorrow no matter what you do and it won’t have any effect on all the effort you’ve put in so far?YEONJUN: (laughs) Could I have that? (After thinking it over) I’d probably just do something fun, I guess? Hang out with friends, go somewhere cool to listen to some music. But that’s not something I absolutely crave anyway. Why’s that?YEONJUN: I’m so ambitious and eager that it outweighs any inconveniences. This job is my pride and joy. I’m pretty easygoing but I also have a lot of dignity. (laughs) I want to keep feeling proud when it comes to my work. It’s interesting to see your photos in that sense. You usually aim for perfection, even under pressure, but you look so natural when you have your picture taken—like you don’t even notice anyone’s looking.YEONJUN: I always enjoy photoshoots. Today’s shoot for Weverse Magazine was no exception. I feel enough pressure on a day-to-day basis so I try to have some confidence when I’m doing a shoot. And anyway, it’s the real deal. It’s like how actors really try to become another person rather than just read lines from a script. It’s the same with me: When I’m doing a shoot or on stage, I’m not just making facial expressions and striking attractive poses—I’m usually trying to become the kind of person who fits in with the given mood.

That helped make the Daydream version of the concept photos for the new album memorable. Whereas showing off your bare chest and back could’ve been burdensome, you make it look like a breeze, and you stuck out your tongue in a unique way.YEONJUN: I was okay with showing some skin. I think everything from the background to the outfits, hair and makeup were perfectly orchestrated to set the mood. I think they really helped sell the particular idea of dreaminess for the Daydream version. But I also worried that taking off my top would come across as leaning too hard into sex appeal. As I understood it, it was never meant to be like that. It should be really clear from how I’m sticking out my tongue, but it’s meant to be mischievous. Mysterious but mischievous. So I was trying to convey a mix of feelings. You worked yourself very naturally into the atmosphere of your concerts during last year’s ACT: LOVESICK world tour and at Lollapalooza. You really couldn’t hide your excitement over the festival atmosphere at Lollapalooza.YEONJUN: You’re right. It was a valuable time to reflect on why I do this line of work. I got started in this because of how much I love the stage. Is there an area you want to explore more of? In an earlier interview in Weverse Magazine, you said you wanted to try writing more intense lyrics, and you said in a vlog you recorded while in the US that you used all your energy on the Lollapalooza stage and even said, “This is what a performance is.”YEONJUN: We can’t do everything we want in the course of our everyday lives. There’s so many restrictions. But when it comes to the stage, I can do anything I want. So I think I want to do whatever I want to the fullest no matter what people say. That’s true for music, performing and photoshoots, too. So you must’ve been really energized while interacting with MOA from so many different countries.YEONJUN: It meant a lot because I’m the kind of person who wants to experience everything. I was especially amazed how the mood and energy differed between cities. I was impressed how calm and extremely focused on the concert itself they were in Japan, and then Southeast Asia they sang along really passionately to the songs and were jumping up and down. In the US they sang and danced in front of us however they wanted without feeling self-conscious. After Lollapalooza, I really thought I just want to be a massive rock star. (laughs) So I tried writing songs that everyone could dance to and have fun and just enjoy themselves to.

You continuously contribute to the music and lyrics of the songs on your albums. Can we expect to hear some songs that are about your personal stories?YEONJUN: I still want to work on it a bit more before I reveal anything to MOA. I’m the type of person that cannot show if I’m not confident or if I’m not fully ready. (laughs) You’re quite the perfectionist. (laughs) Because of the nature of your job, though, it’s always the case that you have to have something to show by a specified time. How do you deal with that? I’m thinking especially about how you have to play many different roles, like when you performed “Lonely Boy (The tattoo on my ring finger)” at 2022 MAMA last year and the dance covers you did at 2022 SBS Gayo Daejeon.YEONJUN: In my personal opinion, none of those performances were perfect. I just tried to put on performances that were as close to perfection as possible. I just practiced as much as I could until time was up. I didn’t want to feel anxious right before I got up on stage and worry about whether I could do a good enough job. In the end, I tried my best and did it all without any mistakes. (laughs) I’m surprised someone with such a strong stage presence is so hard on himself. You garner a lot of attention, too: You earned the nickname 4th Gen It Boy and now have over 12 million followers on Instagram.YEONJUN: I do love myself and have high self-esteem, but apart from that, I’ve never felt fully satisfied with myself. I’m always finding something I could be doing better. Aside from the title you mentioned, I trained for this job long enough that I always feel like I need to be doing better.

That makes me think of the lyrics to “Tinnitus (Wanna be a rock),” which you helped write. Do you ever feel like you’re “just a rock” after spending so much time thinking and putting in the effort?YEONJUN: I’m sure every artist has that feeling at some point. As an artist, I’m always following a big dream when I work, but sometimes when I see myself I feel like I’m not good enough and I feel useless—like I’m nothing. That’s what I was thinking about when I wrote those lyrics. So you’re always aiming higher.YEONJUN: I want to be a role model and to be able to have a good influence on people. My friend told me a really good story yesterday. Apparently, a friend of a friend is my fan. When that MOA saw I had written “study hard” when I signed their CD, that was enough to get past being bullied, study hard and make it into the university program this friend wanted. I just wrote that short message. When I heard that, I thought, I’m at a place now where I can change a person’s life. What about this job could be more rewarding than that? You don’t hold any prejudices and you respect everyone for who they are. For example, you wore a skirt and made a post saying boys can wear skirts too, and when you first saw iced tea with a shot of espresso and confirmed that that person ordered it that way on purpose, you responded, “Okay then, no problem.”YEONJUN: I try not to hold prejudices. I fell into some preconceived notions in the past, but the world keeps changing and there’s still a lot more that needs to change. So I took a careful look at myself, didn’t really like what I saw and thought I better not let myself get stuck in those mindsets. Are you always fully conscious of what’s happening around you? I recall on Weverse Live when HUENINGKAI was feeling camera-shy because of his messy hair but MOA really wanted to see him and you carefully smoothed over that situation.YEONJUN: I try but I don’t know if I’m doing a very good job. (laughs) I try to organize my thoughts by priority at least. I start by talking about what needs to be taken care of immediately and wait a little to bring up other things when there’s an opportunity. I also take each of the members’ styles into consideration. They’re all very different. (laughs) I felt a lot of pressure last year to get us more in sync and practicing more when we had to get a lot of performances ready in a short time because I tend to be ambitious about wanting to do a good job. But it takes some time for everyone to get on the same page and that’s just the way it is. So I talked about the most pressing issues first and waited to talk about the other parts till the next time and we got in sync that way.

I imagine spending so much time together during the world tour must have made it a major turning point for the group, too.

YEONJUN: We definitely had more of a chance to talk. Things have always been good between us, but we got even better at being open with each other than before. I think it can actually be harder to be open with someone the more time you spend together and the closer you are. I tried to be more open, too, and we all tried really hard on the things we felt were important or necessary. That’s how we got better.

In an interview with GQ last year, you said, “We have to try harder so we can be extremely good.” That seems to be your default attitude toward both the other members and toward MOA.

YEONJUN: I think you can always do better, no matter how good you already are. I know I have my weaknesses but I can always do better despite that. I think, if you have your thoughts set on some specific standard, you’re done for. And I’m always YEONJUN from TOMORROW X TOGETHER before just YEONJUN. I couldn’t have done any of the things it took to get me to where I am today on my own. The label helped and because I have the other members and MOA with me, we can all shine brighter.

Is that why you’re always showing the people around you how grateful you are? You shared the heartfelt messages you wrote to the staff you work with on Weverse and you even got snacks for hosts Jjoonijjoon and the rest of SBS’s Inkigayo staff.

YEONJUN: I think it’s really important to be grateful. I really hate when I take things for granted. I think I’ll fail as both a person and as an artist the moment I start taking others for granted. We’re going to get more and more the more we grow, and I never want to forget that I can’t take those things for granted. I think I need to be a person first and an artist second.

Personally, the lyrics to “Tinnitus (Wanna be a rock)” made me think of the movie Everything Everywhere All at Once. If you could pick one version of yourself from the multiverse, like in the movie, which YEONJUN would you choose?

YEONJUN: Me? I’m just … I’m happy the way things are now. (laughs) I hope I would be a happy YEONJUN. If it’s good, it’s good. (laughs) I want the YEONJUN who lives in a world where everyone’s happy and worry-free.

I wonder if that happy YEONJUN is doing the same work that you do.

YEONJUN: Yep.

[transmascutena]

I’m curious, do you think refusing to raise kids is an inherent part of rejecting conventional family structures? I never particularly thought about utena & anthy as adults because of the open-ended way the show ends, but I definitely like the idea that they just don’t want/wouldn’t be fulfilled by raising children. Since that’s such a huge expectation for AFAB people. But also many people want/will keep having children, so I guess I’m curious about your thoughts on how young people relate to family abolition in general. Since this would means more freeing ways that utena & anthy themselves could have grown up. I’m not really sure how to phrase it, hopefully I’m getting myself across.

i don't think raising kids in general is something that inherently feeds into patriarchal or otherwise oppressive structures, but the expectation that it's something everybody should do and that the only/right way to do it is within the structure of a nuclear family is harmful. the pressure put on people by their own parents and society in general leads to people having kids before they're ready or without really wanting them, which obviously leads to bad parenting (even from people who have good intentions.) but of course there are always going to be kids who need to be raised and there will always be people who genuinely want to do that, so it's important that we explore ways to do it that are less likely to lead to abuse or kids feeling isolated, etc. i think the most important thing is probably to expand the number of people (especially adults) that kids can trust, and to get rid of the idea that immediate family is something that has to be more important than anything else and that they're people you always have to love and forgive. kids need to know that you don't have to stay with someone who hurts you and they need to have healthy alternatives

i need to read more actual theory on family abolitionism, since this is still kind of a new topic for me, so take whatever i say about it with a grain of salt. these are just my thoughts immediately after waking up so they may not be the most profound or coherent

[maxdurden]

WIP Wednesday

I was tagged by the lovely @johaerys-writes!!

tagging forward to @dearestaeneas @sarcasticbeanie @deadchannelradio and whoever else wants to share a wip fic or fanart or literally anything (also no pressure to the people tagged lol)

this is. literally the first time i've ever posted writing about any of my ocs publicly. and also it's really kinda long so it's under the read more lol

Wes carefully counted the paces–all sixteen of them–until they were standing in front of their grandfather’s desk. If he were any smaller of a man, it would have dwarfed him. It stood long and wide enough that Wes could have easily slept comfortably on it, though the methodically ordered surfeit of knick-knacks and photographs would have made that difficult. They grinned back at themself from a photo framed in sleek black, riding on the back of the family dog Titus. A small sea of family pictures smiled back at them, actually. They weren’t the stuffy, overly formal things kept in the foyer, but candid and sometimes blurry pictures of their entire family. Half were turned out toward whoever might sit across from Bruce as if to say Look, look at my happy family. Don’t we just look delightful? And the other half were turned towards the tall backed office chair where Bruce sat. 

The stuttering sound of a throat being cleared pulled Wes’ attention back to their grandfather. He sat with his back perfectly straight, his expression was the picture of seriousness. Even without the mask, Wes knew they were speaking to Batman, not their grandfather who had laughed and snapped a picture of them riding on Titus’ back. It was times like these that Wes thought Bruce looked most like he belonged in this sad, old house. 

Wordlessly, he gestured for them to take a seat across the desk. The chairs here were plush and, ordinarily, Wes let themself sink into them but today they sat at the very edge of the leather upholstery.  Under the desk, they fiddled nervously with the zipper on their hoodie. If this was meant to be good news, it didn’t feel like it. But their grandfather had never been particularly good at expressing joy or pride. There was a chance, however slim, that this would be good news coated in a heavy handed reminder that lives depended on them. 

But Wes was starting to feel that chance slipping away. Just before Bruce opened his mouth, a sour thought congealed in their mind: Jason being here was a consolation prize. Or worse, they weren’t going to L.A. They were being sent until they worked through whatever fit they were going to throw. 

Their heart tightened itself into an impossibly small and painful ball in their chest as Bruce spoke, “Dick and I have been talking.” He said, and Wes resisted the urge to fling themself over the desk. Spit it out. “I understand you’ve been… Hopeful about the possibility of becoming Robin.” 

Fuck. Dread had been lingering in the back of their head, but it suddenly settled on them now like a bag of bricks. If this were good news, if they were going to be Robin, they would have been getting this news in the Batcave. They stood but the motion was more like a muscle spasm than a conscious choice. Bruce’s eyebrows inched closer together in preemptive concern. It was already almost enough to be stifling.

“Wes.” Bruce’s tone was gentle, but it was a warning too. “I think I’m too old to take on another protege. I wouldn’t be able to provide you with all the training and attention you’d deserve and, regardless–”

“‘Wouldn’t be able to provide me with training’? Bullshit! You’re Batman!” It was the kind of outburst that Wes had been trying to get better about. Really, they’d been working on it since they moved into fancy mansions and apartments with a new family who at least liked to play act like they were polite, decent people. They hadn’t made much, if any, substantial progress. 

“Regardless,” Bruce droned on, a little louder now and through gritted teeth. “Dick has done an incredible job himself. Nightwing and Bluejay make a good team. There won’t be anymore Robins.” 

Wes stared down their grandfather, as if he might admit it was a joke or take it back. Blinks had to come in rapid succession, because they’d be damned if they were going to cry in front of him. They had half a mind to pinch themself. It wasn’t that they felt entitled to the mantle–far from it. They had never worked harder for anything in their entire life. They had never wanted anything more in their entire life. 

They opened their mouth, and no sound came out. There was too much weighing down on them all at once. The past three years hadn’t exactly been a waste; Being Bluejay was the best thing that had ever happened to them, and regardless of what name they took, they wanted to help people. But it was starting to feel like it had all been a lie. How long had Dick known he was training them for a day that would never come?

The perfectly practiced neutral expression on their uncle’s face moments before danced in their vision. He had known. And what about Jason? How else could they have possibly convinced him to come all the way to Gotham? 

Wes blinked faster now, hand curling into a fist at their side.

“Frankly, you struggle with taking instruction.” Was Bruce completely oblivious? Or did he revel in the ability to lord this over them? Or was it actually possible he believed further explanation would help? These were questions Wes had pondered before and they were questions that would continue to haunt them for most of their life. Their fingernails dug into skin–they wouldn’t cry in front of him. “You’re impulsive. You rush into danger. Dick has done well tempering this in you and he works better with Damian than I ever managed. I don’t want you to be discouraged, you show great promise, but–”

“But what? You only do well with kids who already act like perfect fucking soldiers?” In any other situation, Bruce might have chided them about their language. Wes had never paid that much mind before–they were eleven years old, for fuck’s sake, and Jason had been cursing in front of them since they were adopted–and they certainly weren’t going to start now. “Not much of a mentor then, are you?” The heat of tears pressed at their eyes and clawed at their throat and they dug crescent moons into their palms until crimson seeped under their nails. 

And then there were plump, embarrassing and hot tears streaming down their face; and they were being crushed by the realization that their uncle had known and sent them in here anyway; and they spat the most venomous, awful thing they could think to say, and they meant it with every fiber of their body: “I quit.” 

[thislovintime]

Photo 1 by Bill Chadwick.

“‘Actually, I wanted to leave the group over two years ago when the first season ended, but the guys convinced me not to. I didn’t care about all the things that were happening, all the acclaim. I hated the work! It was tough, and I didn’t like it. I just wanted to record for all my life. 
Also, the pressure was awful. We were working in an incredibly new environment. Half of the crew on the show was young and had very little experience at that level of work. Many of them were getting their first big break. 
Actually, after the TV show was canceled it was easier for me to leave. Doing the TV show was the worst. Then came the movie, and I couldn’t forego the movie, so I did it. You know, there were moments here and there — lots of good, funny stuff happening throughout — but the only time that I was really happy was when we were recording the ‘Headquarters’ album. The concerts were fun, but during the concert tours you are removed from your friends except for the guys. And even when we did take a few friends along it was only a mild relief. This last tour of Australia and Japan wasn’t fun because I felt hideously under-rehearsed. I was constantly pushing for rehearsals, and they were constantly saying well, like later. We couldn’t get together. Also, we didn’t play any new music this last concert tour. It was all old tunes, nothing from our newer albums, and it was a bore. But I think they suspected I was leaving anyway. For me, a lot of the pressure was off. When I felt a part of the group every time someone said something that jarred my sensibilities, I’d raise a huge ruckus and everybody thought I was out of my mind. While we were making the TV Special, knowing I was not going to be there any longer, I just thought to myself — I don’t have to worry about this thing — and I just let everything slide off my back. They must have though something was screwy. Then I finally told them, ‘Gentlemen I’m in negotiations to resign from the group.’ And they said, ‘Okay, well, there’s not much time, we’d better get to work on this Special.’ So we taped the thing and that’s the last I saw of them. The last day of the taping they gave me this little testimonial memorial watch.’ From his pocket Peter drew out a silver, antique-looking timepiece with the back side engraved, ‘To Peter Tork, from the guys down at work.’ ‘I’m free, I don’t know what I’ll be going. I’m actually a little apprehensive, because there’s no doing that there are three other incredibly talented fellows out there. They’re very talented guys. 
Mike is one of the funniest people I’ve ever known. Micky is even funnier and Davy is just cute as a button. Who could ask for anything more? Davy dances so great, did you see him dance in the film? I’ve not seen dancing like that on the screen except from Fred Astaire. The only other thing is that I’m both really relieved and really, really apprehensive. I’m terribly glad and also terribly sad.’” - NME, January 25, 1969

Q: “Why did Peter leave?” Michael Nesmith: “He just finally collapsed. A lot of people asked us, ‘How did you get through the whole thing without going stark raving mad?’ Well, the point is we didn’t. He was a lot less stable than any of us — I was probably the most. I’m a street fighter, always have been. I grew up with hot rods and fists. Peter just finally went crazy and wanted to quit. He was a very tired person.” - Hit Parader, February 1972

“To tell you truth… I… I never was able in those days particularly — I’m getting better at it these days — but in those days I was almost entirely unable to fight for what I saw as quality. If I didn’t get somebody fighting on my behalf then it didn’t, just didn’t come to pass. [...] I just basically think that I wasn’t feeling a part of anymore already by that point, I’d already felt like I was odd man out, and of course I quit almost immediately thereafter.” - Peter Tork, Headquarters radio, 1989

“I’d always had deep doubts, ever since the session for ‘Last Train To Clarksville.’ I walked in there with my guitar and Tommy Boyce and Bobby Hart looked at me with derision and scorn, like, ‘Guitar in your hand, you fool!’ That was the end of it for me. Right there I was done with The Monkees in large measure. I struggled against it with some success at one point. But after Headquarters nobody wanted to be a recording group anymore. I did what I could, but I didn’t feel like there was any reason for me to be there anymore. I wanted to be in a rock group.” - Peter Tork, Head 1994 liner notes

“Headquarters was by far the best album in the sense that it was us. It was honest, it was pure, and we had a great time. Peter says that the reason he quit was because after we did this album, we decided we weren’t going to be a group anymore. It broke his heart, because Headquarters was the whole reason why he’d become one of The Monkees.” - Micky Dolenz, Headquarters 1995 liner notes