#that which only time i know has the key to

[apolloendymion]

for the record btw, the answer is no, there is no such thing as an "addictive personality."

some key highlights from the article (emphasis mine):

During the 1990s, the term "addictive personality" was used by some pharmaceutical companies – and, perhaps ironically, to promote addictive painkiller drugs.

While marketing the opioid prescription drug OxyContin, for example, US pharmaceutical company Purdue Pharma instructed their representatives to tell doctors that only people with an "addictive personality" were at risk of becoming addicted, despite knowing that it was highly addictive and widely abused.

[...]

The idea that your personality determines whether or not you become addicted to a substance would have "suited the pharmaceutical industry very well", says Ian Hamilton, associate professor in addiction at the University of York in the UK. "It kind of lets them off the hook. The message is: 'if you're weak enough to develop a problem with our product, it's due to your personality, it's nothing to do with us'."

[...]

The addictive personality "is a black-and-white way of thinking about something that's highly complex", says Anshul Swami, a psychiatrist in adult mental health and addictions at Nightingale Hospital in London. "There is no one personality type [predictive of addiction] and there is no one person who is the same as another addict."

The article goes on to discuss various risk factors for addiction, which include high neuroticism, depression, childhood trauma, genetics, and even sex and gender.

The experts they interviewed also go to great lengths to point out that some of these traits are a "chicken and egg" situation. A study may find that addicts are more likely to be depressed, but is that what made them an addict, or is the addiction causing their depression?

They mention that establishing causility for genetics, sex, and gender is especially tricky.

But Hamilton warns that there may be significant data gaps as women are less likely to seek treatment due to childcare issues and stigma.

[...]

"Psychosocial factors like violence, sexual abuse and emotional neglect are strongly associated with addiction," says Swami. "Many people will say 'I've got a history of addiction, it's because of my genetics'. But when you drill down in their clinical history, you find that there was a lot of drinking, neglect, abuse, trauma and deprivation. That has been passed down from generation to generation and has surfaced as an addiction."

I'm reminded of my own family. My sister worked like hell to avoid losing custody of my niece due to her heroin addiction. I'm grateful that she could keep her daughter and receive treatment, but not everyone is so lucky. I can certainly understand women who are too afraid of losing their kids to seek help.

My father has been sober around 40 years, and he used to tell me allllll the time that we both had genetically addictive personalities, as did his father. This gave me a complex, to be honest! When I consume alcohol, cannabis, my own prescriptions, even TV, video games, and sex, his voice rings in the back of my mind. It's hard to have a healthy relationship with these things when you feel like you're constantly teetering over a precipice.

Nevermind the fact that my late grandfather's abuse and neglect, plus the family's abject poverty, created ripple effects throughout his descendants. Nevermind that my father abused and neglected me. Nevermind that I had undiagnosed ADHD, and I suspect he does, too!

The problem must be that I have some kind of inherent evil within me. I must avoid anything that makes me feel good, lest I fall into sin. (sarcasm)

From my own experience, and from watching my friends and loved ones go through it, addiction is a combination of self-medication and built-up chemical dependence. There's no inherent "weakness" in a person that makes them a potential addict.

People will fill their needs with whatever they have access to. Sometimes this negatively impacts their quality of life and they want to get off of it, in which case we must help them find another way to meet their needs. Sometimes they're chemically dependent as well, and we must provide education and treatment to prevent serious harm (do NOT quit addictive substances cold turkey, I don't care what your AA sponsor said, that can Kill You!! yes, that very much includes alcohol!!) Sometimes they aren't even addicted! Sometimes they just successfully medicate with a stigmatized substance like cannabis or opioids. Maybe this creates a chemical dependence (as many medications do, addictive or not), maybe it doesn't. Maybe it has negative side effects, but the benefits outweigh them. Maybe it only works temporarily, but it gives them the support they need to build long-term solutions -- like a cast on a broken bone. Or maybe they'll be on it for the rest of their lives! Ultimately, they know the pros and cons, and they've decided it's the best way to manage their health. It's up to us to believe them, and to give them the tools to reduce potential harm.

One final quote from the article:

"Addictions are highly complex biological, psychological, social illnesses, just like every other illness on the planet," says Swami. "Everyone is looking for a simple answer, but there isn't one."

Okay I do not give a shit about this article at all but where did they get this picture of the skeleton wearing prescription pill armor

Like this is the coolest fucking thing I have seen in a while who made this

[lukazade]

It's technically not valentines yet but like, here have a valentines gift <3

[chuellas]

Initiation | I is for Intimacy

⤷ Ft. Nakahara Chuuya

V. A. L. E. N. T. I. N. E.

Warnings | Fem!Reader, N.SFW, 18+ only, use of the names “Doll” and “Baby”, physical and emotional intimacy, oral (Reader rec), fingering, unprotected sex, WC: 2.2k

A/N | This one is a lot tamer than the rest and once again I got wayyyyy too carried away but can you blame me? My baby deserves the world 😔

His hands tremble slightly as you both reach your apartment building’s entrance. The two of you have been dating for about 3 months now and Chuuya has held off on being physically intimate with you up until now. But he could tell your patience has been waning and tonight was your tipping point. You’ve been hinting to him all night that you want him to follow you up to your apartment. The extra touches that linger just a little longer than usual, the longing gaze at any part of him you find attractive, which apparently is every inch of him. 

You fiddle with your fingers and keys, watching them before steeling yourself and inviting him. “Y’know, it’s still pretty early…Why don’t you come up? We could have a cup of tea or a glass of wine and watch a movie?”

Your eyes are filled with so much hope, how is Chuuya supposed to say no to that?

He doesn’t of course, as a matter of fact he’s quick to accept your offer and follows you anxiously to your apartment. The Port Mafia executive couldn’t figure out why he was so nervous. He’s slept with plenty of people before this. He’d even goes as far as to say he’s skilled in this subject, never having left a partner dissatisfied. 

So why are you different? 

Realistically Chuuya knows why but he doesn’t want to admit it to himself because if he does that then it means all of this is actually real. It would mean he cares for you far beyond anyone he’s cared for previously. So he’s avoided the subject with you altogether, letting himself stew in denial.

He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t also incredibly excited. It’s depraved, the amount of times Chuuya has fucked his hand to the thought of you, playing the little voice memos you like to send him every once in a while when you’re at work and typing takes too long. He always comes at the sound of your fluttery giggle, the sound casting a spell over his body every time without fail.

He wonders briefly, what the real thing will do to him when he’s nestled inside of you. 

The ginger can feel himself getting worked up just at the thought of it. He needs to calm himself down. The two of you just got to your apartment. You let him into your home and he’s immediately greeted by a small cat that can’t be more than 6 months old. He’s never been too keen on cat’s but the little ball of fur takes to him immediately and you let out an incredulous laugh.

“She usually hides when I have company, you must be really good with animals.” You crouch down and hold your finger out for the kitten to sniff, just as expected she does so and rubs herself against your hand, clearly recognizing you as her owner. “This is Rika. She may not look it, but this little girl is feisty. She started out as a foster but I fell in love with her and couldn’t fathom the thought of life without her anymore. Sorry, I should have asked if you were allergic before bringing you up…”

Chuuya smiles fondly at you and the small creature, crouching down and mimicking your actions to gain the kitten's trust. “Nah, don’t worry, Doll. I’m not allergic, just- Never been the biggest fan of these guys. She’s cute though, just like her owner.”

You let out a groan and fall onto your butt, knees still bent, to make yourself comfortable on the floor. Rika starts at the movement but once she realizes that it was just you, she continues to headbutt Chuuya and even starts to purr. His attention is still on you despite the little furballs attempts to get him to pet her. 

“That was so cheesy.” You’re covering your face with your hands and peek through them to look at Rika, then back up at the ginger. “...but, I suppose, she’s quite fond of you…just like her owner.”

Chuuya lets out a chuckle of his own because, yeah, that definitely sounded awfully cheesy now that he heard you say it. Yet, it still calmed his previous nerves. The Port Mafia executive stands up and offers his hands for help. You take them with an appreciative smile and he hoists you up. He’s aware that he used far too much force than he needed to but it’s entirely on purpose. You stumble into him and he’s ready to steady you, grip firmly set on your hips to hold you against him.

His lids droop down to look at you through his lashes and the air in your apartment thickens. Your lips part, Chuuya thinks you were going to say something, but he doesn’t give you time as he dips his head down and steals a kiss from you. Then another.

And another.

He continues to kiss you until you both find yourselves stumbling almost blindly into your room. You toe the door shut and start ridding Chuuya of his clothes with trembling hands. You’re nervous too, somehow that makes the ginger just a little more confident and he aids you in taking off his jacket and lifting his shirt over his head. He watches your reaction closely, the way your chest quickens with your breath, the way your pupils dilate in excitement, and most of all the way your face flushes in the prettiest way.

Chuuya is in trouble. Normally his interactions like this are only filled with desire and pleasure. Something only transactional or to itch a certain scratch. That’s it. But this is clearly different. 

The ability user wants to take his time with you, wants you to feel good. He wants to touch and kiss every surface of your skin. Chuuya wants to mold your insides to only take him, to remember the shape of only his cock.

You're the most dangerous person Chuuya has ever encountered and you don’t even know it.

Chuuya makes good on his desires, slowly and carefully peeling your clothes away, making sure to kiss every bit of new skin being exposed. You aren’t as patient but you have no control over what he does right now. The ginger had a plan and you weren’t going to deter him from it. 

When the executive gets you down to your underwear, he makes work of your bra first, expertly unclasping your bra with the snap of his fingers. You let out a pained whine, clearly enjoying just how easy it was for him to take off the usually tricky garment. He wastes no time in cupping your breasts in his now ungloved hands and kneading gently at the plush skin. His fingers run over your nipple and you let out a broken gasp. 

A grin stretches at his lips, he can’t help it, pleased with the reactions he’s drawing out of you when he hasn’t even come close to touching you how he’d like to. 

The ginger drags his hands down your abdomen at an agonizingly slow pace and you squirm impatiently in his hold. “Chuuya…Please, just- oh my god- just fuck me already.”

Your breath catches in your throat when Chuuya flips you around and has your back crashing into his chest and he dips his head to leave a trail of kisses down your neck.

“Gotta be patient f’me, Doll. I gotta make sure you’re ready to take me. Can’t have you uncomfortable, now, can we?” Your head falls onto his shoulder as you let out another whine.

You’re walked to the edge of your bed before you’re being flipped back around and pushed onto it, your legs hanging off the end. Chuuya kneels and pushes your legs together so he can guide them to one side of his head to slip your underwear off with ease. The ginger pries your legs apart once more and settles your legs on each of his shoulders. 

When you’re finally fully exposed, slick cunt practically drooling for Chuuya, he lets out a groan. He has a physical reaction to the sight of you, his cock jumping in his very tight pants. If you would let him, he thinks he would be content with drowning in your pretty glistening cunt. 

You reach for the ginger’s hair and let out another whine. “Chuuya…”

“Fuck, Baby. You been hiding this pretty little thing from me this entire time? A damn shame I’ve let this go to waste till now.” He doesn’t let you respond, diving right in and helping himself to your taste.

With expert precision Chuuya finds your clit with one swipe of his tongue up your folds. He’s quick to attach himself to the sensitive bud and starts sucking on you and then releasing, creating a delicious rhythm with his mouth. You grip at his hair with trembling fingers. It’s cute, really, how worked up you’re getting. The executive has a sneaking feeling you’ve never had someone who actually knows what they’re doing eat you out like this before. 

As if you could read his mind you gasp out, “How- shit- how are you s-so good at that? It feels s’good…”

The ginger knows better than to deem that with an actual response, so instead he brings a hand up to your entrance and coats his middle finger in your slick before inserting it and immediately pumping it in and out of you. It happens fast. You pant out his name and twist your body as you try to almost crawl away from the pleasure building up in your stomach. Chuuya doesn’t let you, of course. He makes sure to bring you flying off the edge. You cum without warning and the sounds of Chuuya drinking you up bounces off the walls. 

You twitch from the oversensitivity and subconsciously push at Chuuya's head. He gets the hint and pulls away. His face is a mess, lips, cheeks and chin glistening with your juices. What's worse is he licks it all off like a parched man, not satiated until he’s licked all of it off.  

Chuuya finally pulls down his pants and climbs over you, dragging you up all the way onto the bed. He takes another moment to admire your lucid state. Body sheen with a small layer of sweat, hair splayed around you in a halo, chest flushed and heaving from your pants. You’re more beautiful than he could ever have tried to imagine. Whatever Chuuya had previously pictured, was put to shame tenfold with you here finally bare right in front of him. 

He gingerly strokes some hair stuck to your face out of the way and lets his finger linger, traveling down the outline of your face. “Think you have one more in you, Doll?”

Chuuya doesn’t think he’s ever had to ask that question before. His usual partners are always selfish, having no problem asking for what they want. You on the other hand? You were far too soft, too kind to ever ask for more when this is your first time getting into bed with him. 

Your eyes close momentarily and he watches your intently. Your eyelashes flutter as you lean into his hand that’s now cupping your face tenderly. When you open your eyes to look up at him through your lashes Chuuya swear he almost cums right then and there. How the hell is he supposed to survive the night with you when you look so stunning underneath him like this?

“Yeah. I want you, Chuuya.” You’re killing him—you really will be the death of him he swears, no dramatics, it’s simply factual. 

He lets out a strained chuckle. “Okay, you got me, all of me.”

Chuuya leans closer into you and rests his forehead on yours before guiding his tip to your entrance. He swipes himself through your folds a few times, making sure he’s wet enough to slip into you easily before finally sinking into you. Your eyes screw shut and your arms fly to his back, desperately looking for something to slutch onto as he stretches you so deliciously. Your mouth drops open but no noise falls out. 

Instead of letting himself get overwhelmed by how velvety and warm and inviting your walls are, Chuuya distracts himself by crashing his lips to your. You finally let out small whines and whimpers and while he’s running his tongue across your lips, asking for another entrance, you impatiently roll your hips. He lets out a surprised grunt but gets the hint and starts a slow but pointed pace. 

Chuuya is used to having sex, he’s slept with countless people thanks to the nature of his job. It’s been seen as a skill for so long that he forgot that it could feel like this. This was something more than just a physical connection, it’s also emotional. 

Chuuya thought he knew everything there was to know about sex, but he has a lot to learn about intimacy, and he doesn’t think he’d want to learn it from anyone else other than you.

[rumplefuckingstiltzkin]

Keyki could have died from her Otohan wounds. She should have, but Vax intervened from the other side. Against the rules, but who's going to gainsay him when it was an act that was ultimately in the gods' best interest? (Either the gods had perfect foresight and knew what decision was coming at the end of C3, or they did not. If they did not know what was about to happen, they could not have prevented Vax from intervening because in this case his orbification was a surprise even to them.)

If Keyleth died, another of the Air Ashari would begin an Aramente, which would be extremely ill-timed, considering what Ludinus was up to. I posit that Ludinus would have found another shard of divinity to use before another of the Ashari rose to lead them.

As it was, they were still diminished without their queen on the chessboard, and the quest Orym's family went on would have failed without BH's intervention. Had she died at the Malleus Key, her story would be a tight and complete tragedy. Had she lingered injured, Exandria would be worse for it.

I must contend that Vax's return in C3 is actually what allows for further character development. It seems a miracle that Grog or Percy is still alive thirty years later, considering the strain and the stress on their bodies that they lived through in C1. The cast could have chosen to tell a story where Keyleth did outlive one of them. Or a story wherein one of the gnomes or Vex'ahlia was killed before their time. [Tiberius canonically did die defending Draconia. In fact, each of Vox Machina had crossed the threshold at least once before.] But the thing is, we already got that story, one which was driven home to none more forcefully than to the principal cast of CR. It is well established that due to the trauma of losing Vax so early, Keyleth never, not in thirty years, was able to grapple with the grief of losing someone.

But with the finale of C3, a new story forms. Both Keyleth and Vax'ildan will linger beyond any of the other members of Vox Machina, even the most long-lived gnomes. And this time, it will be Keyleth that goes first. This leaves open the possibility to yet come to terms with outliving her friends, but more importantly reverses Vax and Keyki's relationship. She now has the opportunity to grow, in light of their reversed situation. And that may not have happened if Otohan had killed her. (Although Vax may still have returned in the finale. Nothing is certain when we can only speculate about Ludinus' Batman Gambits.)

The thing that kills me about Keyleth getting Vax back is how anti character development it is for her.

Her horror at how her increased lifespan will inevitably result in her outliving people she loves is something introduced in campaign one, and losing Vax is the very first taste of that inevitability. Campaign three shows us Keyleth as a woman who has spent thirty years refusing to move on and develop a healthy relationship with grief, still terrified by the prospect of outliving those she loves. And then she gets her dead boyfriend back, and he's immortal now, so she'll never lose him again.

It's pathetic! It's sad! It's kicking the can down the road! What's she gonna do when Percy dies? Grog? Every friend she has besides her immortal dead bf? Is her social circle just gonna close up further and further till it's just her and Vax for a thousand years, because Keyleth never learned how to mourn people she loves while also forming new meaningful relationships, and was in fact rewarded by the narrative for refusing to do so?

[gloomykeis]

Tsukishima Kei's 18+ Alphabet <3

a/n: hello this is my first time posting on tumblr!! so if you read this and enjoy it pls lmk (also give me tips!) but uhh i plan on doing this for most characters bc i like doing these lol. But i hope you enjoy this!!

Warnings: smut obvi, timeskip!Tsukishima kei. male/female reader bc i feel he swings both ways.

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

I feel that Tsukishima, no matter if he's topping or bottoming, will put your needs before his after sex. Get you a warm towel to clean yourself up or if he's not too tired he'll draw you both a bath, get water, again if he's not too tired he'll also change the bed sheets.

But after all that he'll fall asleep very quickly.

B = Body part (their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

On him I feel he loves his hands not even just for volleyball purposes. But how his long fingers know how to pleasure you. He doesn't have to try hard to find your sweet-spot. But on a sweeter note he loves his hand because his hands get to hold you.

On you, your neck. He loves how you react when his long fingers wrap around it so easily. The way you tremble when he presses soft kisses on your neck or when he places hickeys to show that your his. Or how pretty your neck looks with the necklace he bought you with the letter 'K' on it.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

I like to think that he's very safe especially if he's with a women. He doesn't want to get someone pregnant on accident if it's something he can control. So i feel he has a pretty good pull out game but also has condoms on him.

(fem reader): He loves to have you cum on his fingers, just the thought that he makes you feel soo good with just his fingers.

(male reader) He loves when you cum down his throat (secretly wants you to cum on his glasses but he'd never admit that).

D = Dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Has jerked off to the thought of you, him, and yamaguchi having a threesome. Not even just because he thinks yamaguchi is adorable but he's the only person he really trusts THAT much y'know. He Loves you taking control even if he's being a brat the entire time.

Or like i said in the last letter if you're a male he gets off to the thought of you cumming on his face and glasses..

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

I don't think he's experienced before he met you, most of his knowledge is from porn which isn't the best teacher. But you were definitely his first. The first time is a little awkward but after a couple times and you helping him he figures out how to make you feel so good.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Missionary & reverse cowgirl (he can't choose) Missionary because he loves being able to see your face and being able to mark and wrap his fingers around your neck. But he does have days were you do most of the work due to how tired he is so thats were the reverse cowgirl comes in. He loves watching your ass bounce when you drop back down colliding with his hips.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

He's definitely serious except when you react Just how he wants you to his teasing which will get a cocky giggle out of him.

H = Hair (how well-groomed are they?)

He's groomed not even just for you but for him, he hates his pubes being long, it so uncomfortable for him.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Very intimate, he wants to make sure that you know he loves you even after all of his teasing. From leaving trails of kisses up your body to just him telling you how much he loves you and how much you mean to him while finishing, he makes sure you know you mean the world to him.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

He doesn't normally jack off by himself anymore but before you both had a sexual relationship it was pretty regular. But now most of his masturbation is done while he watches you and you watch him.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Marking. He hates it when he catches someone looking too long so. if you have a couple hickies or bites on you neck/collar bone he'll feel more secure (not that he thinks you're a cheater)

overstimulation. He feels that if you aren't trembling he didn't do a good enough job

L = Location (favourite places to do the do)

In your house it doesn't matter where in your shared home just as long as no one could see or hear you. He doesn't want anyone else’ eyes to witness how perfect you are for him and him alone.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

When you tease him he loses control or when you wear his clothes he fears he wont be able to hold back.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn-offs)

Weird role-plays things like ddlg or step sibling stuff freaks him out. He wouldn't do anything like that.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Likes to give more but definitely wont pass up the chance to get head. However he's dangerously good with his tongue it makes you wonder how he was a virgin before you.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

It depends on his mood or how sex started. If he's frustrated or feeling jealous it's fast and rough he needs to you to feel his emotion on each thrust. But if he or you need comfort its very sensual. Tsukishima is never really slow unless he's feeling like a tease.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Doesn't mind quickies but definitely prefers for you two to have longer rounds and so he can make sure that you feel as much euphoria as you can.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Depends what the risk is he doesn't want people to possibly catch you both but if it's trying a new toy or kink he's fine with taking the risk.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

last's a while even with foreplay. He can go 2-3 rounds depending on the day. If he's tired 2 rounds at most, but on the days he more energetic expect more rounds typically 3 though.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

He has a toy collection for both you and him, Vibratiors, cock rings, dildos, straps even. he owns at least one of each. Mainly uses them on you but he does enjoy getting pegged from time to time so you guys own a strap.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He teases no matter if he's on top or bottom. Always has something to say even if he's moaning like a whore.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Again depends if he topping or bottoming

Bottoming: sooo many whines and moans coming from his mouth.

topping: Low grunts with a few moans mixed in.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Had a pretty bad porn addiction in highschool but not just videos but audios, stories as well.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Soft i'd say about 4.5in Hard i'd say 5.5in but definitely a little on the girthier side.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

He doesn't need it all the time and there are days where he doesn't need it at all so i'd say 3-4 times a week will satisfy him.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Like I mentioned in aftercare he falls asleep after you both are cleaned up.

[sillylilsquid]

Real life Romance book pt 5/?

✨alternate universe Hyun Ju x reader ✨summary: in which you meet Hyun Ju at your work, and quickly become friends. you've never dated a woman, but something about Hyun Ju was different. She made you feel a fire in your chest, and though you didn't understand it you were ready to try.  ✨trigger warnings: afab reader, sexual themes. minors dni, 18+ ✨2.8k words

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。

The sun peaking through your curtains made the pounding in your head even worse. You groaned, stuffing your face into your pillow. Laying there you tried to play through the events of the evening before. You remembered going to the club with your friends and girlfriend, but not much after that. You knew you only got home safely because of Hyun Ju, and you were very thankful for that. Slowly you sat up, rubbing your eyes in hopes to sober you up a little bit more. You noticed your room looked a lot more tidy than the evening before, and you knew damn well you hadn’t cleaned it in your drunken stupor. A glass of water sat on your bedside table, you smiled, eagerly grabbing for it. Chugging it down you looked down at your clothes seeing you were in pajamas. Hyun Ju must have helped you change–and as sweet as it was, the thought made you nervous. You prayed you hadn’t made a fool of yourself last night.

Once you felt up to it you got out of bed and rummaged around for your phone. It was sitting in your purse, dead from being off the charger all night. Sighing, you plugged in and began to clean yourself up. You brushed your teeth and washed your face, and you found that it was much easier since your makeup had been removed. What a kind woman, you thought. You ran a brush through your hair and braided it to keep it away from your face. You knew you needed a shower to wash the smell of sweat and alcohol off your body, but you wanted to call Hyun Ju first. Impatiently you waited for your phone to charge enough to even turn on. As soon as you were able to, you dialed Hyun Ju’s number.

Hyun Ju had messaged you a few times that morning, but seeing they were green and not blue she assumed your phone had died. That was one thing she forgot to do before leaving last night; of course she cleaned your whole place but managed to forget plugging in your phone. That morning she did her usual routine after returning from the gym. She dressed herself in a pair of baggy sweatpants and a shirt, her hair messily pulled into a ponytail. Leaning against her kitchen island, she finished her morning coffee and she heard her phone vibrate against the counter. Quickly, she grabbed it. Seeing your contact photo of the two of you made her smile as she answered your call. “Good morning sleepy girl.” she spoke, setting her coffee mug down. You groaned on the other end, your throat feeling raw. “Sorry, I didn’t realize my phone died. Thank you for last night.” you responded. “You didn’t have to clean up my place…but I really appreciate it.” Hyun Ju smiled, trying to keep herself from laughing. “How many times have I told you? You can’t just let random people into your place; first it starts by them doing your chores, next thing you know you’re dead.” she teased, bursting out in laughter. You sat on the other end of the phone, shaking your head at her joke. “Ha ha, very funny. Better watch yourself or I’ll take my key back.” the both of you knew that was an empty threat. 

“Can you come over? I really feel like shit, and I just want to see my girlfriend.” you whined, and of course she agreed. “But maybe wait a little bit, I need to shower and change my clothes and stuff,” you explained, but she cut you off. “No need to wait, I’ll be over soon. You can shower once I’m there.” “Wait, why should I wait?” you tried to ask and with that she hung up. You sat on your bed, mouth hung open at her words. Shower? With her here? Surely she didn’t mean together, right? Shaking your head you headed to the bathroom, found some ibuprofen and quickly swallowed them down with another glass of water. With how close Hyun Ju lived to your apartment you knew she would arrive shortly. 

Hyun Ju made one quick stop to the coffee shop on her way over. She ordered you a tea in hopes it would make you feel a little better. Arriving at your place she locked her car and walked inside, up the stairs, and yet again politely knocked on your front door. This woman. You stood, feet shuffling to the door and unlocked it for her. When you pulled it open you were surprised to be greeted by her in such a casual outfit. You were used to her always being so tidy and well dressed, but you found this side of her just as attractive. Shyly you stepped to the side so she could enter. As she kicked off her shoes she stuck out her hand with the cup of tea, which you grabbed eagerly. “Thank you!” you exclaimed, sipping it slowly so as to not burn your mouth. The warm liquid soothed your throat as you swallowed it. “You’re welcome sweet girl. Now, if I remember correctly you need to shower, and change. It’ll make you feel a lot better.” you blushed as you looked down at yourself. “Geez I didn’t think I looked that bad.” you muttered. She chuckled, her hand forcing your chin up so you would meet her eyes. “Hush now. You know that’s not what I meant. Come on,” she leaned down, giving you a tender kiss. When she grabbed your wrist to drag you towards the bathroom you followed her obediently. 

She turned on the water, testing it with her hand before giving you the okay. You stood there staring at her with wide eyes. She raised her eyebrows as if waiting for you to either say something or undress. “Can you…could you turn around, please?” you asked, fumbling with the bottom of your cotton pajama top shyly. Hyun Ju laughed, her mouth opened briefly as if she wanted to say something but nodded instead and turned around. Once you knew she wasn’t looking you quickly undressed and stumbled into the shower snapping the curtain shut behind you. You heard her footsteps leave the bathroom and return a few minutes later, making you peek your head out. She had grabbed you a clean shirt and a pair of panties. You recognized the shirt as one of her own that she had let you borrow one time when you spilled coffee all over yours. The gesture made you smile. You tucked yourself back in the shower and tried to focus on washing off the night before. 

“I knew you wouldn’t remember last night.” she finally spoke. Her tone held a hint of disappointment, but you knew she didn’t mean it rudely. You couldn’t help but peek out again barely enough to see her leaning against the bathroom counter, her arms crossed lazily over her chest. The image made your knees weak. “Why? Did I do something stupid?” you asked, raking your fingers through your hair to detangle it. Her eyes drifted to you, admiring you and you blushed realizing you were standing with your chest barely covered by the curtain. You disappeared back into the water. She stayed silent for a moment then hummed. “You don’t remember trying to rip my clothes off? I’m offended.” she teased, giggling. Once her words registered you were mortified. She had to be playing with you. “No way, I–did I really?” you asked, your voice becoming small as you grew embarrassed. “Don’t feel bad, you were really drunk, I knew you didn’t mean it.” that made you gasp. “I did mean it! Wait, no–I mean like, well of course I want to do that but…” you stopped talking knowing you were only making things worse. “Sweet girl, it’s okay.” she responded kindly, her voice sounded like it was just on the other side of the curtain. Hesitantly you moved to look out at her, being met with her beautiful dark eyes. She leaned in, giving you a quick kiss. You finished your shower in silence, soon turning the water off. You went to reach for your towel and saw it wasn’t on the counter, but in Hyun Ju’s hands. She stood close motioning for you to get out. Clearing your throat you looked down at your body before taking a deep breath. You held that breath as you shyly pushed the curtain open. She helped you step out of the shower and proceeded to dry you off. As her hands explored your body you shivered, partly from the cold and partly from being so close to her.

Once she knew you were dry enough she helped you get dressed, and somehow standing there in front of the mirror in just a large shirt and panties made you feel even more exposed. Hyun Ju stood behind you, her height towering over your smaller frame. She began to brush your hair and you watched her in the mirror, occasionally your eyes would meet and every time she would flash you a smile. “I’ll be ready one day, soon even, just not yet.” she explained and when you didn’t answer she spoke again. “In the meantime at least let me admire you.” she sat down your hairbrush, and let her hands drag up your thighs. They landed to rest on your hips. It made your shirt lift slightly, your panties exposed. You blushed profusely. “Take all the time you need,” you whispered, craning your neck to look back at her. Her hands gave your hips a squeeze with a smirk. She removed them from your waist, your shirt falling back down over your thighs. Her strong hands now traced over your shoulders, down your arms, across your stomach. They left the feeling of fire every place they touched. “You know how hard it was to resist you? You sat there, so needy…you gave me this look with your eyes,” she spoke, her voice heavy with… lust?  You weren’t exactly sure, but you were sure that you were quickly getting turned on. Staring back at her reflection you knew the exact look she was talking about. You used it a lot to get what you wanted, something you had mastered throughout your dating history. Your eyes met hers in the mirror, and you gave her that exact look. She seemed to freeze, eyes widening. “Tease.” she whispered in your ear. You shivered at the feeling, and you knew you had to stop or else you’d be yet again trying to rip her clothes off her.

You leaned back into her touch briefly before bending down and slipping out of her grasp. “Let’s go watch a movie or something–my feet are killing me!” you exclaimed, running to your couch and flopping on it. Hyun Ju remained in the bathroom for a moment trying to collect herself then followed you out to the couch. You were also trying to force yourself to calm down and think of anything else, but it was so damn hard. When she sat down next to you her arm wrapped around your shoulders, and you tucked yourself into her side. She picked out something to watch but didn’t plan on watching most of it–she was too focused on you. On your body, and that look you gave her. Hyun Ju felt that familiar tight feeling growing in her stomach. 

Slyly you reached over to place your hand against her stomach, acting as if you didn’t even know you were doing it. As the two of you “watched the movie” your hand idly played with the hem of her shirt. She’d tense every so often when your fingers would brush against her skin. After a bit though you grew bold. You scooted closer, practically sitting on her lap so you could place kisses along her neck. Hyun Ju let out a sigh, it tickled your ear making you shiver. Before you could register what was happening, she had pulled you onto her lap. She kissed you, her lips moving feverishly against your own. She hadn’t moved your hands so you decided to take your shot. Slowly you started pushing her shirt up exposing the soft skin of her stomach. You broke the kiss to admire her, but to also check on her and see if she was okay. Her eyes were closed, head hung back to rest against the back of the couch. Her breath coming out in soft pants. You continued to move her shirt up, past her bra and Hyun Ju raised up her arms. 

“Hyunnie,” you whispered, it was the nickname you knew was her favorite. She cut you off before you could finish your sentence by sitting up to pull off her own shirt. There she sat before you in just her bra and sweatpants. Her eyes searched your face, and as much as you tried to look back at her you couldn’t help but stare at her body in admiration. Her body was lean and muscular, but still held femininity. You tore your gaze away to meet her eyes. You couldn’t speak, your mind not allowing you to form any words. “It’s okay, I’m okay.” she assured you, leaning forwards so she could kiss you. Her hand rested on the back of your neck to keep you close. Your hands hovered, not knowing where you could touch–so you decided to just rest them upon her shoulders. She chuckled against your lips. “I know you love looking, you can touch.” she offered, slowly pulling away so she could watch. You cleared your throat, now nervous. “Don’t be shy now,” Hyun Ju whispered, grabbing your wrists. “Sweet girl.” her voice was soft, laced with a teasing tone. Her hands tightened on your wrists and pulled them off her shoulders. At that moment you started to get over your nerves, realizing she was letting you do this. In fact, she took her shirt off. For you. She wanted this, with you. 

Your hands traced across her collarbones, playfully snapping one of the straps of her bra against her skin. Her breath hitched, eyes glued to your hands. Slowly, your hands drifted over her breasts. You didn’t try to take her bra off, if she wanted it you were sure she would’ve discarded it along with her shirt. Swallowing, you gently squeezed her breasts. A moan, though barely audible, escaped her lips. Your heartbeat pounded so hard in your chest you were sure she could hear it. Seeing her like this made you drool. What a beautiful woman, you thought. As your hands slowly moved down her stomach you felt her abdominal muscles, reminding you of how strong she was. The skin of her stomach was soft and supple. Hesitantly your fingertips traced the waistband of her sweatpants, but you stopped yourself. Don’t ruin this, you reminded yourself. So you swept your fingers back up, resting on her breasts again as you leaned in to kiss her. She needily kissed you back, hands wandering your body. They had pushed your shirt up enough to rest against your butt, kneading it briefly. As you two continued to kiss you felt her body relaxing more underneath yours which made you smile. She was comfortable with you. The movie on the television soon finished, and when the apartment became silent she slowly pulled away. She was panting underneath you. “Like what you see?” she teased, reaching up to swiped her thumb across your bottom lip. You nodded eagerly, which made her laugh. “Hyunnie, you’re beautiful.” you whispered. You brushed her hair out of her face, trying to fix it after destroying it earlier by threading your hands so desperately through it. “You’re beautiful too,” your name fell from her lips so effortlessly. Her voice smooth, still thick with desire.

You slumped against her, burying your face into her neck. She wrapped her arms around you and her muscles flexed. You felt yourself grow tired; you weren’t sure if it was because of last night, or because of your heated kissing with Hyun Ju. “Sleepy?” she asked you, and you just silently nodded. Hyun Ju reached around you to grab her shirt, briefly pushing you up so she could pull it over her head. You whined, but allowed her to do it anyway. Hyun Ju stood up with you in her arms, legs wrapped tightly around her waist. She carried you to bed, setting you down. “Don’t go!” your voice desparte, making you blush at how needy you were acting. “Sweet girl, I’m not leaving.” she crawled over you, tucking the both of you into bed. Her body snuggled up behind yours, pulling your back against her chest. As your breathing slowed you felt the feeling of sleep take over you, and you could’ve sworn you heard her whisper three words. I love you.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。

✨a/n: i appreciate all the love i get from writing, y'all are really sweet. enjoy!!

[andy-15-07]

Hey! I really like your Aaron Taylor-Johnson story. Maybe, if you have some time, would you write an Aaron × reader in which he has an accident on set and they bring him to a hospital. Reader is his girlfriend and visits him in the? Tysm

In Sickness and in Health

pairing: Aaron Taylor Johnson x female!reader

word count:629 | requests are open (send requests, I will gladly answer them all)

Aaron Taylor Johnson Masterlist

The sun was just beginning to dip below the horizon when Y/N’s phone buzzed on the kitchen counter. She glanced at it, expecting a message from Aaron saying he’d be home late from set. Instead, the screen displayed an unfamiliar number. Frowning, she answered.

“Hello?”

“Hi, is this Y/N?” The voice on the other end was strained, hurried. “This is Mark, the assistant director on Aaron’s film. There’s been an accident on set.”

Her heart dropped. “What? What kind of accident?”

“Aaron took a fall during a stunt. He’s conscious, but we’re taking him to St. Mary’s Hospital. You should come right away.”

The world spun for a moment. She barely remembered grabbing her keys or how she navigated the traffic to the hospital. All she knew was that Aaron was hurt, and she needed to be by his side.

The fluorescent lights of the hospital lobby felt harsh against her eyes as she rushed to the front desk.

“I’m here for Aaron Taylor-Johnson. He was brought in from a film set accident.”

The nurse nodded, her expression softening. “He’s in the ER. Second floor, Room 214. Take the elevators down the hall.”

Y/N mumbled a quick thank you and practically sprinted to the elevators, her mind racing with worst-case scenarios. When the doors opened on the second floor, she saw Mark pacing in the hallway.

“Mark!” she called out.

He turned, relief washing over his face. “Y/N, thank God you’re here.”

“Where is he? How is he?”

“He’s stable. The doctors are checking for any internal injuries, but he’s awake and asking for you.”

Without another word, she pushed past him, her feet carrying her to Room 214. She hesitated for just a moment at the door before pushing it open.

Aaron was lying in the hospital bed, his head bandaged, a bruise blossoming along his jaw. But his eyes—those beautiful, familiar eyes—lit up when they met hers.

“Hey, love,” he rasped, his voice hoarse but warm.

She rushed to his side, her hands trembling as she cupped his face gently. “Aaron, what happened?”

“Stupid stunt went wrong,” he murmured, trying to give her a reassuring smile. “Didn’t tuck and roll like I should have. Landed hard.”

“God, Aaron, you scared me.” Her voice cracked, tears welling in her eyes.

“I’m okay,” he whispered, covering her hand with his. “I’m okay now that you’re here.”

A nurse entered the room, checking his vitals and giving Y/N a sympathetic smile. “We’re going to keep him overnight for observation, but he’s a tough one. Should be back on his feet in no time.”

When the nurse left, Y/N pulled a chair up to Aaron’s bedside, never letting go of his hand.

“You have no idea how scared I was,” she whispered.

“I’m sorry, love. I didn’t mean to worry you.”

“You’re not allowed to scare me like that again,” she said, a tear slipping down her cheek.

Aaron squeezed her hand gently. “Deal.”

They sat in comfortable silence for a while, the beeping of the heart monitor the only sound in the room. Y/N stroked his hair gently, careful to avoid the bandage.

“You know,” Aaron said softly, breaking the silence, “this made me realize something.”

“What?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

“How much I need you in my life. I don’t ever want to be without you.”

Her heart swelled, and she leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead. “You’re stuck with me, Taylor-Johnson.”

“Good,” he whispered, his eyes fluttering closed, exhaustion finally taking over.

She stayed by his side all night, holding his hand, silently thanking the universe for keeping him safe. And as the first light of dawn filtered through the hospital blinds, she knew they’d face whatever came next together.

[butterflydm]

WoT trailer thoughts

Okay, I gotta run off to work soon, but I wanted to poke at the trailer some more first.

After consultations with @markantonys, who is better at recognizing people who Change Their Hair And Clothes (how dare they!), I now know that it is Josha in the river scene and Alanna in the orchard scene with Perrin and Not Elayne (and thus Morgase) in the Lion Throne scene.

So, thoughts on the season ahead of us...

Though I want more than one episode with everyone together, if Rand & co are going to the Waste on foot, they might want two 'travel' episodes to let time pass in the other plotlines, so it might be both Rand's group (via land) and Perrin's group (via the Ways) who leave at the end of the first episode. I'm currently leaning this way because it doesn't look like Egwene is in the scene where Galad fights Gawyn (and which is likely to lead into the Mat vs the princes fight) and the only reason I feel like she wouldn't be there is if she is already on the way to the Waste.

Hopefully Rand & co will leave in the middle of ep2 and we get some more time with everyone together! And Egwene & Gawyn could at least meet each other, lol.

The implication from some of the marketing is that Rand is going to try to tempt Lanfear to the Light while she's trying to tempt him to the Shadow. They've really set up "Rand only lives if I die" with Moiraine in the marketing and the trailers, so I also lean towards us getting the Moiraine & Lanfear confrontation at the end of this season. And Rand seeing past!Lanfear in the glass columns could lead him down the path of believing I Can Fix Her, while she is continuing to try to weave her manipulation around him.

So in the first episode, we're going to get Liandrin & co busting out from the White Tower, Egwene's Accepted Test, a bit of the new group all bonding together, and Egwene meeting Amys Bair in TAR. Ihvon is probably dying in ep1. I do think that the show probably originally planned on killing off Maksim but when they had to recast Ihvon for s3, it made more sense to keep the actor that the audience will know than the brand-new one. We see Maksim in shots of the Battle of the Two Rivers, so we know he lives (at least that long).

I think long-haired Rand in the river is probably from Egwene's Accepted Test, because his coat makes me think of Rand-as-Dragon type clothes. He basically has book!Rand hair. I'm guessing this is paired with the Wondergirls in their fancy clothes on horses.

I think we'll get the bubble(s) of evil in the first episode and it might be what makes Rand realize he needs to get moving and not stay in Tar Valon.

And then ep2 might focus on the White Tower and meeting the Caemlyn Crew, with subplots in other places -- so we'd get Mat fighting the princes, us seeing Elayne with her family. Maybe a flashback to Elaida becoming Morgase's adviser and showing us her 'talent' at Foretelling (her saying that the Andoran royal line is key to winning the Last Battle only a couple of episodes before we learn that Rand is of the previous Andoran royal line).

Ep3 could focus on Perrin in the Two Rivers -- finding out his family is dead and/or visiting Laila's grave. Maybe meeting Faile and Luc. Alanna and Perrin talking about grief, since she would have recently lost one of her Warders, and this might be the moment where we see Perrin let Laila go.

Ep4 then focuses on the Waste plotlines -- Rand in the columns, Moiraine in the rings, Egwene learning TAR.

Ep5 could focus on Tanchico and Moghedien (interrogation scene, etc). And, if my speculation (along with @markantonys) is correct, also the introduction of Tuon. It just seems like a good season for introducing end-game love interests to each other! And one of my big arguments re: Tuon is that she needed to be on the board so much sooner than Jordan put her there, so that she would have time to get a character arc.

And I think I might place Ep6 as the White Tower Coup, because in the new trailer, we have both Moiraine and Egwene bringing up points about the Tower being divided being bad and how Rand will need the White Tower for the Last Battle. Feels like set-up for the coup happening this season.

Ep7 as the Battle of the Two Rivers and wrapping up Perrin for the season. I think that Tanchico might be saved for Ep8, especially if we do get a little doorway action for Mat as well and Moiraine, and he potentially ends up in Rhuidean (I will only let this speculation go when it is proven untrue lol).

Mat is wearing a cord in the new poster, so I feel like that implies we're getting snakes and/or foxes this season, so that he can get the medallion (or he gets the medallion in the Tanchico museum, but our hints about having a special character in the final episodes who was a collab between practical effects department and make-up makes me lean towards the 'Finn).

Ep8 is then left for Rand announcing himself at Alcair Dal, Couladin getting in the way, and the Moiraine & Lanfear confrontation, plus the Nynaeve & Moghedien confrontation in Tanchico.

Then it leaves Elayne & Nynaeve in a position at the end of s4 where they can either merge up with Rand's storyline or they can go to Salidar first, depending on how many seasons Rafe feels like we're going to get (this idea first floated by @markantonys! it makes so much sense).

[muttsupreme]

wide awake, breathing hard

just started my period after a prolonged ovulation (no one cares mutt) and i decided i missed being horny. written for people with periods that use she/her pronouns.

TW: smut, just about straight from the get-go. typical roman hijinks. somno that seems soft but he has ulterior motives because he loooooves you and your poor period pussy. i can’t tell if this is misogynistic or just romantic being ironic, but believe me, he loves you. PERIOD STUFF! CRUDE LANGUAGE! DUBCON (well…maybe noncon)! praise and degradation but kinda fucked in a sweet way. he finds you cute-slash-as beautiful as a goddess. roman films you without your consent and whispers commentary. rimming, roman eats your ass. breeding at the end.

A/N: technically thus far, nothing on my blog is 100% canon to My Roman Storyline (oh shit gotta actually write that — forgot i had to write my own story). this is just for fun. self-indulgent as fuck; nothing more, nothing less. also no beta. no anything actually i wrote this on my phone mostly in the tumblr app and said yeah that’s good enough send it out. so don’t take this as some sort of literary pièce de résistance of fanfiction, it’s 5k words that i would compare to a tangled ball of yarn. ur welcum

Roman kind of cares that you’re struggling, but not really? Because like, you love him. That’s it. You’ve always been a giver, and yeah, he’s always taken advantage of that, because that makes you feel good — useful, nice, hard to abandon is what Roman thinks you consider yourself. Aren’t you already? He doesn’t think too much into it.

He brings painkillers, he knows exactly what combo to use: three ibuprofen, two tylenol. Makes you some warm blackcurrant tea his mom gave him a long time ago that he keeps stocked up, which to him tastes like warm Ribena. He nuzzles your noggin instead of kissing it, not because he’s weird about menstruation, just because you’re in a ‘no touchy’ mood. Until you’re not. And he thinks that’s all good, fun and games, puts on a movie, Only You from 1994. A nice romcom should — will most certainly — soothe a chick on her period, he takes it as a life hack: a romcom and a warm hand on your tummy.

You fall asleep with some time. It takes time, he’s okay with that. He’s still in his work clothes, his dark blue button-up with the sleeves rolled up to show his forearms and those kinda stubby, wide fingers. They’re so soft and warm that they almost match your heat. His belt holds up his black slacks and your hand rests on it, like he was the one shedding his uterine lining. Your palms are warmer than his.

Roman’s dick twitches. The vein in his forehead just pops out, his eyes just lock in on you like if he looks away you’ll disappear. You’re warm, and soft, and malleable; you always take good care of Roman, because he needs it, he knows he does. But right now, you’re in pain to the extent that you’re allowing him to take care of you. You’re asleep on his side, halfway lying on him, not even paying attention as the movie finishes up. Your toes twitch and you occasionally make a little “mmn” noise in your sleep. It isn’t sexy by any means, but it’s so you. He thinks he’s sort of addicted to seeing you so intimately, open, vulnerable. You can’t take care of him like this. It’s his turn to baby you and he’s already plotting what he can do now that you’re so pliant.

Fuck, he feels awful. Not that he should, though, right? You’re like, maybe his soulmate. He adores you. He pays for your existence and you love him. And he loves you, in a Beauty and the Beast, trap her in my tower-slash-penthouse sort of way.

His black socks scoot against the bedding and blanket as he reaches for his phone. He goes to his text messages and searches some familiar key words from one day, scrolls until he finds a message from that day and opens it. Yeah, that’s exactly it. Pictures of his own dick hanging out of his fucking Calvin Klein tighty-whities, soft, limp, his untrimmed pubes peeking out.

He doesn’t really get off on his own cock, but he’s enough of a freak to hope she would. To hope her little clit would get all puffy and irritated and fuck — maybe her hole would clench around nothing. Flutter and squeeze like trying to milk a load out of him.

A few minutes after he sent that text, after she just gave a quick heart reaction to the prior, he sent another pic. His balls, full fucking sack on display. His texts after are almost frantic at her lack of verbal response.

Have fun playing out your fascist fantasies and ignoring me. I’ll be waiting here like a good little cuck. Come home whenever you’re done.

Can you just come?

Yes I mean that as a double entendre

You’re a bitch of a wife. When I actually marry you I’m gonna put a shock collar on you because of this

He’s always been supportive of your career. He’d just really like it if you could get it all out of your system sooner or later and become a good girl for him. You know, sucking his dick every morning, getting knocked up and worshipping his nuts to thank him. It’s really not that difficult.

He almost jumps out of his hot, horny skin when you move in your sleep. Just a little adjustment, tightening your leg around his thigh, squeezing it tighter like a pillow. His phone immediately turned closer to him, but slowly, he turns it off and lays it down, still on the bed. He may have use for it. He likes documenting you, likes knowing he has it even if he can’t bear to hear himself on camera. Still feels proud he has it. Maybe he’ll show it to Kendall one day, the folder of pictures and videos of you that you’re scarcely aware of.

His dick is half hard when he gently scoots his hand beneath yours in his belt buckle to unbuckle it, flinching at the sound of his belt clanking. He moves on to unbutton his slacks, unzip them, and palm himself through his too-tight briefs.

You’re there, you’re asleep, your poor, puffy pussy is free bleeding in black shorts, and his dick feels like a bull at a rodeo. Fucking jerking and bobbing at every new thought, which really, is every new opportunity. You’d let him do anything as long as he slipped in some shit you liked, something about how you’re a goooooood girl, or something about him being a daddy, or if you’re really out of it, something about emptying his balls so deep into you that you’ll be waddling in a few months.

Gently, so gently, he moves your leg off of him by the underside your knee, rubbing his soft thumb against the even softer skin of the underside of your calf. He’s surprised it soothes you so easily.

Eyes glued to you and his breath huffy, kind of sharp, he eases his slacks and briefs down to his knees, tugging off his socks as well, tossing those to the floor. No room for anything getting in the way on the supposedly sacred space of your bed.

His dick is flushed, but flagging. You’re on your side as he lays down on his, facing you — his hips where his face should be. His fingers pet your hair, slowly bringing your lips flush with his balls, your nose nuzzling the base of his cock. Like instinct, you shift your face a little. Maybe it’s some evolutionary psychological theory of propagation or maybe it’s just because you’ve done it so much, but you pucker your lips to kiss his balls, nuzzling in closer.

Fucked? Sure. But beautiful? Like Christopher Doyle on steroids. Wong Kar-Wai couldn’t fucking visualize how he feels.

“Uhn-uhn. Open, open up honey,” he says as you try to move away. His voice is quiet and squeaky, and he hopes you think it’s all a dream. Your tongue lolls out on him and you breathe out a pitiful little whine. Sweet girl must be having a good little dream, huh?

“Okay, okay. I know. I’ll do it for you. You just rest,” he says, sticking his thumb in your mouth for you to suck on. You do, and it makes his dick jump against his tummy. Bringing it out, slick with your spit, he rubs it along his cock as best he can. He should use some more, some of his own spit. It’s not wet enough. But he’ll deal with it. He doesn’t want any spit but yours on his dick, and he doesn’t wanna disturb your sleep. Yet.

He pumps his cock a couple times, but by the time he’s hard, he isn’t even sliding his hand up and down his cock. His jaw is clenched and he’s fucking your pussy — his hand mimics your pussy squeezing, trying to milk him, and his thumb occasionally brushing against his tip is a shitty imitation of your cervix.

He likes bending you, feeling his sticky cocktip kiss your cervix as he kisses you, thinks it’s real sweet. He’s kissing you with his lips and his cock, how domestic. Maybe he’ll drool his spit into your mouth as his cock drools cum into your cervix. The memory makes him throb.

He gasps quietly and removes his hand from his cock. Hands push your face further into the pillow as you naturally roll on your belly, tits smushed against the bed through your stupid oversized tee that he’s stolen from you countless times. “Up, up,” he whispers, not expecting you to hear him, but he makes you obey.

Waddling behind you to sit on his knees, arms around your lower abdomen from behind, his chest at your back, he lifts you just a little to remove your shorts. He pulls them all the way down your legs and off your ankles to throw them the floor, the same treatment that his socks got. Situates you so your hips are up, one of your more limp pillows beneath you, barely noticeable.

Fuck. Holy fuck. He spreads your legs with a quick, quiet mumbled whisper of, “Spread ‘em,” and stares at your hole for a while. A while, meaning a solid minute, maybe more. It’s bloody and he knows it’s a little tighter than usual.

You’ve been really struggling, haven’t had much time to take care of your pretty little pussy. Haven’t told him what you need. Poor, pitiful thing. Not that he would’ve helped you.

A glob of his spit drips onto your pucker, down to your pussy and further down to your clit. He leans in close to smell, smell the blood, your pussy. He doesn’t have any particular affinity for your period, but he does have a special interest in your pussy. Not just pretty pussies, just — your pretty pussy. Like Venus de Milo of cunts. Maybe that’s why he took you to see it at the Louvre.

Spreading your pussy lips, he spits directly on your hole. One thick finger pushes the spit in, see-sawing it in and out of your hole until your hole sucks it in to the knuckle. He’s entranced. With your asshole still slick with his spit, he feels the urge to rim you. But oh, you get so embarrassed when he does that, and he wouldn’t wanna make you embarrassed while you’re cramping. A tongue outlining that ring of muscle wouldn’t be very soothing.

So he does it.

Leaning down, scruff tickling your cheeks, he drools on the hole as a second finger just barely presses into your pussy beside the first. He lap at it, swirling, before the tip of his tongue dips in. He sees you squirm.

“Just a li’l taste test,” he assures in a hot breath against the hole, getting the idea to blow cool air on it. He does, watching it clench spastically, making him absolutely fucking delighted. “Calm the fuck down, Jesus. Just my tongue.”

Leaning up from your holes, he slowly tugs his fingers out of your pussy. He sniffs them with a quiet, soft groan before he licks them, basically makes out with them, until they’re clean of you.

His tip is basically fucking purple, not a drop of blood in his brain anymore. He lets his dick lead the way, notching in your hole with accuracy rarely shown. He’s thankful for it; now’s not the time to slip it in the wrong hole. Probably.

Just the tip, and he’s leaning his head back. His eyes squeeze shut and his balls tighten, and he bites his lip but it does nothing to stop the whine from escaping through his closed mouth. “Ah-fuck,” he moans your name, or rather, whimpers it. He’s entranced by your hold the minute he moves. The tip pops in, and out, and in, and half way out until he sees your hips jerk away, and he can’t help but push his dick in a little farther down past the tip out of instinct.

“Ro — Roman, no, Rome,” you say in a shaky voice, the left side of your lower abdomen aching just a bit as the pain meds wear off. “Why the fuck — mmgh,” you squirm, feeling the wetness of his spit on your asshole and his dick a couple inches deep. “Please, out, take it out,” you whine, scared, trying in vain to pull him out by scooting away.

“No — no, no, fuck,” he scrambles to keep you still, pins you down by the back of your neck. “I’m not doing what you think. ‘Kay? I’m not — raping you. I’m making love to you. That’s what I do, remember? Feel that ache? I’m tryna make it go away. See?” He pops the tip of his cock out and rubs it on your clit. Takes it slow, rocks his dick from tip to down near the base, lets you feel the ridges and veins and how his blood pumps through it.

You let out a noise that can only be described as distorted. It’s broken and scared and still sleepy; your body is begging for him to just stick his dick back in and blow his load in you, cunt clenching at every bump, ridge, and vein as he rocks your clit back and forth on his dick.

“Shhhh-sh-sh-shh,” he soothes you. His left hand goes to warm your front again, like a heating pad, as his right goes back to your pussy. His cock is rubbing your clit as he humps, and one finger slips slowly back into your pussy.

“You don’t — y’don’ have to,” you slur out, your speech still sluggish and slow with sleep. It’s uncomfortable, just a little, but his hand on your lower abdomen is so warm, so soft, that it makes you lean into him against your better interests.

“If you — ah — if you want, I c’n just blow you, or,” you trail off, embarrassed by the blood seeping from your pussy. It’s messy, and Roman generally just isn’t the most giving kind. Or maybe you just don’t give him the chance. Yeah, that rings a bell. Wonder why.

Roman knows. Roman sees straight through you the same way you see right through him, but you’d never expect it. He uses it as leverage whereas you use it for — what, love, comfort? Maybe his leverage is sort of like that. Manipulating you into calming down.

“Awww, is someone feeling insecure about their little puss puss?” Roman coos mockingly. “Don’t you worry. She’s doing juuuust perfect. Though I can see why you’d need some reassurance. You have, what, a whole lotta hormones and shit surging through you right now, huh?” He says in a tone where you can practically hear his scrunched-up face, filled with mocking disgust.

He giggles drunkenly, “That’s okay. Isn’t it? I don’t mind if my fleshlight is a little, uhhh…” His left hand on your lower abdomen makes a stupid gesture that goes with this face, both unseen by you but easily predictable by his pause and tone. And if his fingers nudging into you mean anything, that stupid gesture is that typical curl, where he raises it in a sort of confused fashion. “Fucking — bloody? Kinda hot. Like you’re already lubed up.”

He does not fucking help. It’s almost a game, seeing how embarrassed you can get, and he’s impatient to win. Roman likes to think he dabbles in cruelty (whereas he may say you have a PhD in cruelty just for not letting him lay all over you while you work), but he makes sure never to break his favorite toy. Well, not to the extent to which it can’t be fixed, at least.

And you can be fixed. The tears start bubbling over as the pain from before starts subsiding. It’s the worst thing of all, that you’re suddenly liking it.

Your pussy makes squelching noises, literal squelching as he fingers you, cock still under your clit, letting you lube him up by just dripping on him. He sputters out a giggle after you grind on him a couple times.

“Sorry, sorry,” he says, definitely not sorry. “It’s just — you’re fucking grinding your clit into a diamond on me and — squeezing me like I’m the King of Cooch. And you were just begging me to stop earlier. Isn’t that a little, I dunno. Ironic? Fuckin’ hilarious?”

You know this game. It isn’t fun.

“Oh — come the fuck on. Don’t gimme that crybaby bullshit,” he jokes with a mix between a chuckle and a scoff. His fingers push deeper and his tone takes on a certain clarity, that mock seriousness, as if he’s in a courtroom, swearing in. “I will not…leave you, like this. M’kay?”

It’s a double-edged sword. Will he not leave you like this, or will he not leave you like this? Is he saying he’s not gonna walk out of your life, or is he saying he’s not gonna leave your pussy full of cum and sore, denied any chance of cumming?

You whimper. Your cheek is smushed cutely against the pillow and he has just the perfect view of it. He presses down, pushes you into the pillow. His fingers are quick, they push deeper, spread out, wriggle around a little bit, enough to push more pained whines out of you.

"Yeaaaahhh, I know it hurts — but you're the one who went and got yourself all worked up, aren'cha?" Roman says with a teasing lilt in his tone, like a schoolboy tugging at his crush's pigtails and then gaslighting her into thinking it's her fault for wearing them. It’s cruel to blame you for your own business, for not fucking — playing with your pussy enough.

“It’s okay. Daddy’s got you, just fall asleep. You hear me?” Roman says, and it sounds like the words reverberate in the room, like you’re in a cave where only his voice echoes and your cries and whines, your tears falling onto the pillow, are all just background noise.

You nod. It’s like a code word, a trigger that he’d Pavlov’d into you to calm you down. When you’re scared, or can’t sleep, or freaking the fuck out, that ‘daddy’ comes right out. It’s not like he likes it, not like he cares that he’s your ‘daddy’. He just finds himself crooning the word softly. Sometimes feels some weird inverse reaction to the word that makes him feel all nice. His jagged edges being cushioned in real-time.

His fingers pump and curl, wiggle around like he’s taunting you. A (not so) silent ‘I’m in control, boo-hoo, cry me a river’. He adds a third, squeezes it in there to hear you wince and whimper. Sees your blood, dark red on his fingers. You’re creaming on him, he sees it at the base of his knuckles. God, he could cum from this alone.

“Mhm. I know it’s a stretch. Poor little girl,” his cock jumps up against your clit at your broken whine. It sounds like you’re already fucked out. You gush blood, and to some extent, he doesn’t wanna imagine this being ‘actual’ blood; on the other hand, he feels the vampiric urge to sink his teeth in and get as close as he can to you, digest you. Maybe cannibalistic in a non-sexual, ‘I eat you, you eat me’ way; like how he’ll steal and wear your panties to feel close to you.

“Daddy knows. You’re gonna be fine,” he promises with a teasing lilt. It’s a false promise that you can’t help but believe. He pulls his fingers out, nice and slow, as everything has been; it feels like a whirlwind, like your head just can’t keep up, too dizzy, but he’s been so patient, so sweet, so slow. He licks his fingers clean again, letting the bitter iron and sweetness marinate in his mouth, then wipes them off on the back of your shirt.

You don’t see, you’re too busy being caught up in that brain fog, that nice dizziness that makes you feel drunk. You’re too busy letting tears fall down ever so often, feeling your legs twitch, feeling that ache return with a vengeance. Why is he doing this? A sob bubbles up and you let it out before you can catch it.

“Why’d you—?” Roman cuts you off, quickly. His cock lines up, he takes special care with pushing his tip in just a little bit, just enough to give that testing stretch of the elasticity of your pussy. You let out a breath, one you didn’t know you had in you.

“You gotta calm the fuck down,” he leans down, kissing the nape of your neck, one hand going over your eyes. You close them, you obey, even once he removes his hand. “My dick’s gonna help your cramps, but you gotta let him in. Gonna…shit, holy shit, gonna help you sleep.”

It feels good, his dick pushing deeper as you ease up a little. He’s about halfway in, and fuck, he whimpers like he’s the one getting fucked. You’re nice and slick, and his dick is all too eager to cum in you, fuck you nice and raw how he always does. Your cunt is so fucking warm, it makes his balls clench. It’s fucking scalding hot, holy shit.

Unbeknownst to you, Roman’s hand reaches for his phone near where he was lying earlier. He swipes to the camera and leans up, pressing record. He gets a quick shot of your pussy, too tight around his dick, the hole trying to draw him in deeper with every thrust.

“Daddy’s feeling a little neglected,” he pushes all of her buttons, knows she’ll let him do what he wants if he plays the right cards — fuck, even if he doesn’t play the right cards. “Can I kiss you, hm? Kiss-kiss?”

You nod and let out a broken little noise, knowing just what that means. He quickens his pace, pushing deeper, and deeper, until his cocktip nudges your cervix. His tip is fat and sticky and leaking pre against your cervix as he kisses it with his dick. It’s vulgar, and he’s getting it all on video. But he’d just as well get it on an audio recording, knowing your fucking squealing is what makes it.

Roman feels you squirm on his cock, feels you trying to push back. “Oh, good girl, huh? You feel that?” he praises in return. He places the phone beneath your spread legs, getting a view from beneath of your clit pressed into the pillow, humping it as his cock pushes into your hole, the sway and plap of his balls against you, his taint. And you do sound like such a good girl.

Leaning down against your back again, he grinds into you. He’s deep, it feels almost like you’re a bitch in heat who’s been pinned down, a bitch being used. Your cramps feel entirely second to his dick in your hole, varying from gently nudging your cervix with soft kisses to slamming into it brutally. He has no rhythm, and as he was before — he’s letting his dick lead the way.

His hand reaches down to your clit pressed and grinding into the pillow, his other against your lower abdomen, efficiently both pressing down for you to feel his cock even better and acting as a human heating pad once again. His thumb and forefinger pinch your clit gently, your hips jolting as he giggles sluggishly.

“Awhhh, don’t wike dat? Okay, okay. I know. Sweet little fucking…thing, here you go, bitch,” he rubs your clit, feels your pussy flutter around him. “You close already?”

“Mmuh-huh,” you murmur out through the pillow. “Fuck — oh, fuck, mmfuck,” you sob pitifully as he fucks into you harder, initially knocking the breath out of you.

He moves his legs over your hips, slamming his dick deep, balls smacking against you with loud, wet noises, the dark red that has trickled down even onto the pillow beneath you transferring onto them as well. “Gotta catch up,” is his only excuse. He’s seemingly forgotten about the camera beneath them both and any semblance of attractiveness.

His hand warming your lower abdomen angles you up even more, coaxing you into fucking yourself back onto him again despite how hard it is. “Wow. Lazybones. Come on, c’mere, help yourself.” He stops, a complete and full stop, the fingers on your clit pausing their movement.

He chuckles proudly as you pitifully squirm beneath him, unable to really do much of anything with his thighs around your hips and him lying on top of you, but you tried. You think that’s all he wanted, just to watch you try, know you want it.

“Good job. Still lazy, but hey, shark week and all that — I get it. Still love you,” he means it, even if he says it sort of jokingly. And to prove it, he starts pumping his dick into you again, rubbing his fingers on your clit real nice, just how you like it. You squeeze.

“Felt that. Oh-ho-ho, you think I wouldn’t? I’m literally in you,” he taunts. He feels you shaking — too emotional, too on-edge, too fucking close. “Hey — ‘s okay. Remember? It’s aaaaall okay. You can cum. It’s okay if you cum before me. You’re the girl,” he says, the weird misogynistic statement not really registering, just comforting for now, telling you that you can cum.

“That’s it. You can cum — if, if. You lemme give you a creampie,” he says, suddenly making this a condition, creating a conditional offer that you can’t really fully comprehend right now. “…Or, cherry pie? Strawberry? Raspberry? Red and cum-colored. Whatever.”

“Uh-huh, yeah,” you agree, to whatever the fuck he’s saying. You aren’t sure if he’s saying all of this extra bullshit intentionally to confuse you or not, but it’s doing the job.

“Good. Good,” he reassures, close to cumming himself. “‘Cause, y’know, I’m gonna empty my balls in you anyway. It’s just, the difference between ‘the wonderful conception of our firstborn’ and ‘rape’,” he says in a flagrant voice, and it clicks: oh fuck. You aren’t on the pill, he isn’t wearing a condom, and you just told him to cum in you. You’re surprised Roman knew that the whole ‘can’t get pregnant on your period’ myth wasn’t real.

You cum. Fuck, you cream on his dick so hard you can barely breathe. And it takes him maybe one, two, three pumps of his hips to blow his load. Whole time, he’s breathlessly mumbling shit, “Fuck, gotta make sure it takes. Milk it, yeah, milk that shit, suck that load real deep, mama. Fuck you with your fertile fucking — shit.”

He doesn’t pull out. After you cum, and moments after he finishes, he moves his legs down to lay on the outside of yours, pushing his dick deeper in you one last time, plugging his load up. You still drip, leak just a few droplets of pink-ish cream, a mix of his thick load and your own cum, with the tint of your liquidy period blood. He wipes what’s already dribbled out and brings it to his lips as he lays his fully body weight on top of you like a smothering weighted blanket.

“Mmh, cherry cream pie for sure,” he finalizes. “All-American. Taste so good, bring a tear to your eye, right?” he quotes with a grin you can feel against your nape through his scruff, then a kiss to your back through your t-shirt.

“Ho-holy shit, no, nope,” he stutters when he feels you shift, your cunt clenching around his dick on instinct, like some biological imperative to keep his cum inside while his dick’s still there doing that job for you. “No moving for another, like…hour? Whore. I’m too sensitive to just. Fuck you like a fuck train. So wait. Let it…I dunno, seep into your uterus.” Another kiss to your back. “Go to sleep. We’re sleepy, sleepy time.”

Your cramps are subdued throughout the nap. His phone records the visual of his balls against your cunt and the sounds of him snoring softly, for hours.

[yume-writes]

MCB x TFP crossover

Just some random stuff which I can't really make posts of their own

The tfp kids being the ones to be thrown into the MCB universe and just not be able to talk to the MCB human characters because they speak Korean. So a good chunk of the time it's the kids using google translator to talk to them or even having one of the cardbots translate for them. I feel like Crest would be able to speak English though, all the kids would probably know a few English phrases but not enough to hold a long conversation

If Arcee is the one who gets transported she's like that one meme, "I've only had these idiots for a day and a half, but if anything happened to him, I would kill everyone in this room and then myself." (I imagine she's saying this about Blue Cop and Jun when they first meet)

Blue Cop low-key kind of looks up to Optimus. Like, ok, he's supposed to be the leader of the cardbots, he has taken up that position, but a lot of the times he doesn't feel like it's a position that he actually deserves. So seeing Optimus and how, seemingly, effortlessly he does as a leader makes he want to be a bit like him.

To no one's surprise, Mega Ambler and Ratchet do get along. I mean, they're both medics, it's no shock to anyone seeing them talk to each other. I feel like later on, if they do grow closer or just an event that hits too close to home happens, Ratchet would open up a bit about how being a war medic weighs down on him

Buster Gallon and Raf get along as well, surprisingly. Listen, the kid is so incredibly smart, managing to understand cybertronian things very easily. It's no wonder why Buster Gallon takes an interest in him. You can see them hanging out and just talking about technical things which just goes over everybody else's heads.

Megatron and Heavy Iron fought once and knocked each other out with their respective cannons

Every Cardbot finds Soundwave creepy, like they look like a cryptid and never talk, they just stare. It creeps the cardbots out.

Agent Fowler would not be able to last a day with the cardbots without his blood pressure getting dangerously high. They just don't know how to stay hidden well and new ones are always showing up in the middle of the street. The bots are the masters of hiding compared to the Cardbots in his opinion

Last one for now, Yuri (Jun's mom) and June Darby both get along really well and have lunch together once a week. This is to the dismay of Jack and Jun who now have to deal with the embarrassment of their mom's telling embarrassing stories about them to one another

[hockeyboistrash]

Another part to my cat mom!reader x joseph woll blurb series because I love writing it and I've got a bunch of ideas for it. The cats are good at comforting Joseph after a loss.

Joseph was drained. No matter how many saves he made, how hard he tried the team still lost. He wanted to forget about that game and move on to the next one but with Toronto media that was near impossible. The blogs and so-called experts will be all over him, dragging his name through the mud demanding he's traded because he should've made that save, he should've won the game. Joe loved playing in Toronto but he also hated it.

It was late and Joe knew it was likely you'd be in bed but he couldn't face going to his empty apartment right now. Using the spare key you gave him, a way to signify the next step of your relationship, he let himself into your apartment. You knew it was a possibility he'd come round, having texted you after the game.

"Hey." You softly greeted Joe when he rounded the corner. You were in the kitchen making a cup of tea for your boyfriend, ready for when he came over.

"You didn't have to stay up, Y/N." Joe told you, knowing you had work the next day yet he was secretly glad you were up as he wanted nothing more than to see your smile.

"I know but I wanted to." You shrugged, finishing off the tea before handing it to Joe. He held the mug in his hand, gently blowing on it to cool it down before taking a sip, grateful for the warmth. "And I know you might not want to hear it right now but you were amazing tonight. It wasn't your fault you lost." You told him, pushing his hair back. You've been with your boyfriend long enough to know he's beating himself up about the loss.

A chorus of soft chirps could be heard making their way to you both, Winston and Louis wanting to join in the impromptu late night get together. They hated the thought of missing out on something. Louis jumped up onto the counter, immediately brushing up against Joseph, purring as he did. Winston wasn't far behind, pawing your boyfriends hand as his way to say he wanted fuss. You were quick to move the mug of tea, not wanting any accidents.

"Hey guys." Joe greeted, effortlessly giving both cats fuss. A slight frown that he wore when he walked in soon turned into a soft smile. This was why he wanted to come over, so he could be with you and kittens instead of alone with his thoughts. You stood back, watching the sight before you with love. You knew Joe was still feeling the loss but at least Winston and Louis could keep his mind off it even if its for a moment. "You been good today?"

"Yep. Only had one incident of attacking the tv but other than that they were sat watching the game." You told him.

"Really?" Joe playfully gave Winston a stern look, knowing he was the culprit as it wasn't the first time this has happened and it probably wont be the last.

"In his defense the refs were on the screen." You said making him laugh.

"Well I can't be mad at that reason, can I?" He said giving him a head scratch which Winston purred happily at. "Thank you for this, Y/N. I really needed this."

You didn't need Joe to add anything else, knowing exactly what he was on about. You leaned up, pressing a soft kiss on his cheek. "Of course. We're always here for you, cheering you on. No matter the outcome we're proud of you." Joe smiled at the three of you, grateful for having you in his life.

[bayoubashsims]

it seems your plantation lot has caused some controversy😵 I know your username has bayou in it but I'm still curious why you made a playable plantation for the game

Background

Hi anon and everyone, I wanted to address some comments regarding my post about creating a plantation in The Sims 2. This construction was based on the Felicity Plantation which was featured in The Skeleton Key, and I posted about this months ago--it's the same building, but in a different hood.

I was cautious about how it would be perceived as I only know two other people who recently made plantation-themed builds: BourgeoisBanana who was criticized for making the one from Django Unchained and there was also luvsimskaos who made historical depictions of a plantation to talk about history and life as enslaved people.

I am also not ignorant of plantations and their history with racism. I am Indonesian and it was only 80 years ago my own country was independent from being colonized by the Dutch and we too had plantations, indentured servitude, and enslaved people (though clearly not in the same extent as the Atlantic Slave Trade). American history is no stranger to us in the third world as everything that is American affects us culturally and politically.

If you see from some of my Indonesian builds, many of them are buildings from the colonial times in Indonesia and it was not to glorify their imperialism over the socioeconomic structures of Indonesia or to romanticize them in any way, but to recognize its part in history as well as the architecture of the structures that remain today. Many of them today are museums and galleries that remind us of what those structures were built on.

My re-creation of a plantation that was historically used to profit off the labor and wellbeing of enslaved people was not to glorify that or to even fantasize slavery to exist within The Sims. My intention was to appreciate American culture and history, specifically on the architectural aspect.

In The Sims

I am well aware that the estate of the real Felicity Plantation still have the residential quarters of the enslaved people, which is why I did not choose to recreate those structures as Sims history, despite its many similarities with American culture and history, does not share that part of history. Nor do I wish to recreate slavery in my game.

I’m a strong proponent of not forgetting histories by whitewashing them and I am mindful that, by choosing to exclude them in my game that the real basis had quarters for enslaved people, that, it would be the best option. Or perhaps, it could be whitewashing it, but the alternative is certainly not ideal. I don’t know, I’m open to how others view and think of it.

There was this Reddit thread that discussed about the word ‘plantation’ and I’ll post some screenshots on what other Simmers have said about it.

Though I know I took the basis of the structure from American history, there are plantations all over the world that did not use slavery or exploitation for them to run (well, capitalism still exists, but that’s another can of worms), and that’s applied here. Though I didn’t elaborate on it, historically, the building that I created does not share the same history. It just happens to be inspired based on the period architecture.

My construction of the building was only to show my appreciation of the architecture, my fascination with American culture and history, and my love for The Sims and horror films like The Skeleton Key. I also recreate many structures from Louisiana, like the shotgun houses and the French Quarter townhouses, all of which are also part of that history.

My neighborhood itself is a re-creation and tribute to the culture of Louisiana and New Orleans and I just wanted to be as accurate as possible. I didn’t set out nor did I intend to ‘fantasize slavery in The Sims.

My Context

The structures of such plantations also mirror many colonial Indonesian houses (which explains my interest), and today we Indonesians appreciate these 'heritage' houses while also being mindful of their histories and how they were built on the sweat and blood of colonized peoples. That is all I thought I was doing and I am coming from that point of perspective.

Many colonized nations of the third world would say the same regarding similar structures in their own countries; appreciate them as works of art and preserve them as a part of history, but no need to romanticize or glorify them as parts of darker aspects of history.

However, I am also aware that plantations are a sensitive issue in the US. I know people who are criticized for having weddings in plantation estates, because though they think they only show appreciation for history by throwing events there, for many other people especially African-Americans (some of whom could be guests or workers at that wedding), that history meant actual horror, on grounds and structure that subjected real people to unimaginable things.

So I understand how some people might feel about such a structure in The Sims, but I don't, to my knowledge, feel that these two things are the same. Willow Creek in TS4 as well as Old Town in TS1 all pay tribute to the rich history of Louisiana in their own ways; how appropriately and accurately they paid that tribute is another matter, but I was just , as a foreigner, playing along with that theme with no ill intent.

Though it is not comparable, Indonesians were subjected to similar horrors and I live in a society where, like Americans, many still remember what the past was like and are still affected by it. However, I thought that by re-creating the building on The Sims 2 merely on the basis of appreciating American architecture and history and a horror movie that I liked, in a game that only I’d play, that I wouldn’t be really doing anything materially harmful.

I’m open to listening and learning more on this issue, especially from Americans (considering how I took a part of American history by creating this), but…I would venture so far as to say not everything has to be from an American-centric view. And I say that, again, while still being mindful of how actual Americans who are affected by this part of history think of a plantation structure being reproduced in a game.

If anybody re-created a colonial Indonesian structure, most Indonesians would appreciate that they paid attention to the architecture and history of such buildings, and I wouldn’t say anything else unless there was explicit glorification or recreation of the more problematic parts of history.

This is my view of the issue. I apologize that I’ve created and shared something that is offensive, it’s the last thing I want to do here (genuinely surprised because I’ve always been kind of laying low and chill on this platform 😅), though I think the criticism is valid and I understand where it’s coming from. I am the last person to have malicious intent and neither am I ignorant of the context--but I could be better informed.

References

Below are my references regarding the portrayal of plantation houses in historic and aesthetic terms as well as the reactions to portayals such as that:

Dahm, K. (2013). " To Preserve, Protect, and Pass On:" Shirley Plantation as a Historic House Museum, 1894–2013.

de la Torre, O. (2022). The well that wept blood: Ghostlore, haunted waterscapes, and the politics of Quilombo blackness in Amazonia (Brazil). The American Historical Review, 127(4), 1635-1658.

Locke, H. J., & Mackay, T. A. (2021). “You Are a True Progressive”: Red Dead Redemption 2 and the Depiction and Reception of Progressive Era Politics. The Journal of the Gilded Age and Progressive Era, 20(1), 174-193.

Phillips, A. (2022). Fixing the Past: Memory Tourism, Multiraciality, and White Innocence in Video Games. ROMchip, 4(1).

Smith, M. P. (2018). " Ridiculous Extremes": Historical Accuracy, Gone With the Wind, and the Role of Beauty in Plantation Tourism. The Southern Quarterly, 55(2), 171-190.

Walcott-Wilson, E. J. (2020). Cultivating Memoryscapes: The Politics of Language at Plantation House Museums in the American South. Handbook of the Changing World Language Map, 901-913.

[doorlesscub00]

The Last Goodbye

Spencer x reader drabble authors note: Hey guys!! This is the first time posting a fic I've written, so please let me know what you think!! all feedback it appreciated and welcomed!! Short write- Less then 500 words, but potential for a second part!! Not proofread either!! The reader isn't mentioned of gender- It's written in second person point of view. Theirs mention of yelling, a bit of toxicity and Spencer out of prison. It is angsty.

He's been more distant lately. You were growing more and more concerned about him. Ever since he got back from prison, he changed. He grew cold. Pushing you away. The constant fights, unable to even hear you. You tried, tried to your last bone in your body... but everyone has their breaking points. 4 years withering away like it was merely a facade.

Here he is. Dismissive and angry. Why is he shouting so loudly and incoherently? You asked him how his day was, and if he was alright, and then the split happened. Spencer is turning into this unrecognizable person, yelling at you for being too invasive, too pushy and nosey. You just wanted to help. And now he is screaming in your face...

Ring... Ring...

He answered the call in two rings, it takes him two calls to answer you. It was like his entire personality shifted... He was kinder, sweeter, understanding... reminds you of the Spencer you once knew... the one you lost.

He looks at you and answers the line... "Yeah I can make it in right now. I don't have anything special going on. Yeah, I know. I'll see you in 20 Emily."

He hung up the phone and spoke coldly, telling you he needed to go back to work, went into the bedroom and grabbed his to-go back, and went straight to the front door and left.

This time would be different, you knew it. You didn't weakly tell him goodbye and to be safe. No. No more of that. You've done it every time he left, but not today. Did he even notice that.? Probably not. He left, and it gives you at least one day to get everything out, at best 12 days. But you wouldn't risk taking your time. Straight to your room and grabbing all of your belongings, throwing them into your car. Questions swarm through your head. Where would you go. What will happen to the thing you can't fit in your car to bring. Would he care you left.? Would he notice your absence when he gets back.. Would he be happy. Maybe try to find you and try to change. Could he change back to the man he once was.. You hope he could go back to Spencer you fell...

Wait! No. Stop thinking about him. You're leaving him to be happier. Free. So then why does it feel like you have a 50 pound weight on your chest. It doesn't matter. You had to do this. You had to leave.. Staying would only make you loose your mind. Be driven to insanity. it's time to hurry. Not another night here. Booking a hotel for the night and going from there would be the safest option. It's already 11:27pm. You threw the rest of the belongings you could carry in your car, leaving quite a bit behind but you needed to prioritize what you took, went back and left your key on his counter and walked out the door..

Looking back one last time, leaving behind all the forgotten laughs, all the petty fights... Your new start begun now. As you started the engine of your car, you started your new chapter in life. A chapter of which you can only go up. Find joy once more. Backing out of his driveway, you knew you could never go back on what you're choosing. And so there you were, dead of night with the street lights to show you the way as you drove away from the empty shell, the once you once considered to be a warm and loving home..

A/n: Okay so I am debating on making a second part to this- or maybe like 2 different endings to the story.? A sad one and a happy one. But let me know what you guys want!! If I should leave it as is, or continue onto it. Anywho, thank you so much for reading my Drabble!! Means the world to me, but for now, goodbye my lovely dreamers!! Till next time, have a wonderful day or night!! Better yet, both!!

[sapphiresaphics]

I think labeling it as a music video is part of the problem though. It’s not a music video. It’s a musical montage. Every scene in this show has significance. The depth of which is so meticulous that the animators hide details within single frames sometimes that you’d only see if you pause it. As such, treating these montages as music videos that you don’t need to pay attention to is disingenuous isn’t it? If you miss key information because your brain tuned out the “music video” then that’s kinda on you, isn’t it?

As for how easy is it for audiences to pick out the details that explain Isha’s past? I think it’s really easy if you just remember simple details. Here are the key things you need to piece it together:

1. Remember that Silco talked about how awful it was working in the mines from Season 1.

2. Remember that Silco used child labor in his Shimmer factories.

3. See the Chem Barons literally grabbing kids off the streets during the “SUCKER” montage.

4. Remember the helmet that Isha wears.

6. See in Vander’s watercolor flashback his friend Felicia (Vi and Powder’s mother) returning home wearing the same helmet.

That’s really it. Most of that is just observing the show. It doesn’t spell it out for you, but it’s pretty obvious and they intentionally have that helmet constantly falling off Isha’s head to draw your attention to it. So when you see Felicia walk in through the door wearing the same helmet you should be able to piece together that if she worked in the mines, and the chem barons use child labor, then Isha was likely running to get away from the child labor mines.

I don’t know anything about Life is Strange so I’m not gonna comment on that. But I will say that the crucifixion that I’m seeing for Season 2 is a LOT like the crucifixion I saw for Steven Universe. Which was and still is bullshit.

I’m gonna let you in on a little secret. Just because a show wasn’t nominated for “best writing” a second time, doesn’t mean the writing sucked. That’s not really how nominations work? And it’s also really nitpicky and petty? Cuz they still won ALL of the categories they were nominated for, BOTH seasons. That’s…. Like HELLA impressive! To try and use them winning all their awards as some sort of quantifiable proof that the show sucked is so… bizarre to me. Like it’s literally cognitive dissonance. You can’t win a category you weren’t nominated for and you can’t guarantee that you’re going to be nominated for the same things every time. That’s ridiculous.

When people complain about the run time I just remember when people were angry at how fast The Owl House had to go to finish its story after it was cancelled. A lot of people blamed the writers for cramming so much into 3 episodes, rather than take stock in the fact they were only GIVEN 3 episodes to work with.

We KNOW that they wanted to do more seasons. We KNOW that Netflix cut them down to 2 seasons. If that’s the case, why is it the writers fault for doing everything in their power to ensure that all the main story beats and important events happened even if it comes at a cost of a slightly faster paced season?

Like seriously, why in the criticisms of the show isn’t that considered and given grace? If they PLANNED on 3 seasons, and then after all the setup work in Season 1 was done they were told they only had the budget for 2 seasons… what are they supposed to do? Just… make season 2 and leave it on a cliffhanger? Completely drop all the setup they just spent a season building up? Or do they work to cram as much as they can in there in as natural a way as possible using montages and music to skip time ahead and get to the juicy parts?

Which of those 3 options would YOU choose if you were in their shoes? And why do we blame the writers for something out of their control?

I do not know what’s confusing about what Amanda has been saying. I’ve read her articles, I’ve seen her interviews. I haven’t had any issues with what she’s said. Christian… you really shouldn’t listen to him. I know hes a figure head and he talks a lot, but given his history, and the apparent lack of actual input he had on the show, I wouldn’t put much stock in anything he says.

I don’t think people are allowed their opinions if their opinions are stupid. Not all opinions should be treated with equal consideration and respect. I’m just calling out all the DUMB ones. And unfortunately the Arcane Critical hashtag is filled to the brim with DUMB ones.

Maybe use a different hashtag instead? Cuz frankly right now the Arcane Critical one is dogshit and toxic.

Seriously why are some people defending Arcane S2 like their life depended on it. The music was top tier, some parts were good, Fortiche has topped their game. Marvelous job by Fortiche. While acknowledging the good we also must acknowledge the bad just to be real and so Riot can improve upon their future seasons. Incoherent writers, shitty plot, so many loose ends, the lack of showtime, Cait? Caitvi? Vi??? All the random undeveloped characters (this did not happen in s1)? The discontinuation from season 1?? Using parallels just for the sake of it without much meaning? ...

This is like a flip side to defending Rachel Amber all over again... See both sides of the coin people 😪

[kiisuuumii]

this life is a lesson. a sentence

[luck-of-the-drawings]

OH ARTHUR BENNETT.. such a gorgeous and intriguing character. terribly burdened by a GRUESOME set of crimes, his light suffocated by a HEAVY century of GUILT. so tragic, so dark and broody, and yet PAINFULLY awkward in any social setting ever