#that's about the only 'community' i've had any contact with here

[supercantaloupe]

are there any jewish orgs or synagogues hosting seders that are open to non members close to you? that’s the best recommendation i can think of

i’m sorry you’re in that situation though, that sucks

not that i'm aware of. maybe there are, but at this point i don't know of any, let alone if they won't be sold out (or prohibitively expensive to join) at this point

[mariamlovesyou]

tuned into Plestia's live with Rahma Zein's second account (she got shadowbanned). key moments:

plestia talked about her adjustment to living in australia. "it's 1:30am now and it's normal for me and many palestinians who live abroad to be awake hours into the morning. i am scared of sleeping. because of the time difference, i'm scared if i sleep i will wake up to bad news. in gaza i was scared of the sound of the bombs, here i am scared of the quiet."

contacting family and friends in gaza is near impossible. "sometimes i feel like a crazy person, calling 20 times in a row hoping that on the 21st time the call might go through."

on the destruction of entire communities and neighbourhoods: "i'm scared when i go back to gaza i won't recognise it anymore. someone sent me a picture of my neighbourhood, and i couldn't tell it was mine at first. all my favourite places, cafes where the aunties used to give me extra food and ask about my day, have been destroyed. i dread looking at my gallery or seeing snapchat memories because most of these people in the pictures are no longer alive."

rahma asked plestia to talk about one story that stuck with her. plestia said "i remember walking one time on the 'safe corridor', that's what they called it anyway, and i saw an older woman clutching onto a donkey cart where her son's body was, refusing to let go of it. i asked my colleague what the smell was, he said it's dead bodies under the rubble. it was the first time i familiarised myself with the smell. the son's body was decaying and the woman told me about cats and animals eating away at it. i've had children talk to me about birds eating away at their parents' decomposing bodies and not being able to chase them away."

"it seems so silly to go to hospitals for minor sicknesses now. i can't even think about how many palestinian children are going to be terrified of hospitals now. there was a girl who was taken to the hospital to get treatment for injuries by one of the bombs, and while she was in the bathroom another bomb landed nearby. the impact from that sent the ceiling crashing down on her.. she got another injury while getting treated for her first one."

"i hate how people talk about our resilience - as if it's okay that this is happening to us. we are only surviving because we have to, because we have no other choice."

rahma brought up the way family homes are set up in palestine and asked plestia to elaborate. "basically, there are floors. someone will live on the ground floor, and then their married son lives with his children on the floor above them, and then their successors above them and so on. so when family homes are targeted, they wipe out entire families. many families officially no longer exist."

"i used to wear my journalist helmet and vest all the time, felt naked without it, even slept with the vest on sometimes until i realised it only made me more of a target. they didn't give me any protection, only headaches and back pain."

"i am an optimistic person, i loved covering sweet sentimental things, like at my graduation asking parents of top graduates how they feel about their children graduating. that's what i love reporting on. i wanted to cover things like that when i came back to gaza, show the beautiful side of gaza that the media didn't really show, but i didn't have the chance." "do you think they'll give you right of return?" "i can only hope."

plestia mentioned how hard it was being a journalist with limited access to the internet, charging facilities, no mics, lack of equipment and how difficult it was uploading things. rahma asked her what's one story that wasn't really recorded or posted due to these constraints; plestia said "the evacuations. sometimes they informed us about them, sometimes they didn't. you have no idea how hard it was, everyone looking for their family members, making sure every one was there, taking to the streets in 5 minutes and not knowing which way to go. i remember i went to my friend's house for shelter for 30 minutes before the first evacuation was announced and we ran to another family's house, stayed there for 2 days before another evacuation was announced. me, my friend, and that family all evacuated together to another family's house. there were already so many people there seeking shelter, it wasn't just one family staying there. none of us knew how long we had in any place."

before october 7th, palestinians were used to limitations on electricity. plestia used to plan her day's tasks around when the electricity was working. "for example when the electricity was on from 12 to 4, i would say i will do my laundry and charge the phones during this time. life wasn't exactly 'normal', but all of us pray to have those days back in comparison to what we are experiencing now." plestia also said that cars are running on cooking oil now because there is no fuel.

on hygiene: "many pregnant women have to give birth without any pain medication or medical attention. once we ran out of medicine, that was it. women who had to get C-sections couldn't stay to recover or get followup treatments because someone else needed the bed. we have no water, no tissues, no pads, barely any bathrooms. in the shelter schools you have to wait an hour before even getting to use the bathroom because of how many people are there."

"something you don't hear about is how many people die because of sadness. there's so many ways to die in gaza, because of the bombardment, because of starvation, the lack of resources, but i also know many elderly people who died because their hearts couldn't take it anymore. i have been in gaza before and lived through 4 aggressions, but nothing compared to this one."

a recurring sentiment that was echoed in the video: "sometimes i thought to myself: who am i recording this for? because we've already shown everything, we've already talked about everything. everything has already been said, the proof is everywhere, nothing i talked about today is new." rahma said the first video posted about what's happening in palestine should've been enough.

she is 22 today. plestia's closing words: don't stop talking about us, don't stop boycotting, don't stop protesting, please don't get bored of fighting for palestine.

[dovveri]

strike a pose

synopsis: momo’s the best photographer in korea and she’ll be taking your pictures for the annual haute couture magazine

warnings: swearing, 69, mutual masturbation, filming during sex, taking pictures during sex, reader has a praise kink

w/c: 4.6k

a/n: can be read as a standalone but also follows directly from sana’s part

⌞ ⌝

"momo!"

a pretty girl with bright blonde hair pokes her head out from around the corner, eyes brightening when she sees her assistant with you in tow.

"come in! i've been expecting you! y/n right? sana told me all about you!"

"s-she did?" you gulp nervously, unsure of what exactly sana told the world-class photographer.

momo grins, "enough anyway. c'mon- let's get you changed. we've got quite a few shots i want to try out today. sana really outdid herself with the outfits this time. i can't help but think she was a little more inspired than usual." there's a teasing lilt to her voice, like she knows something you don't.

you can only allow yourself to be ushered along as hands start pulling at your clothes, makeup brushes touch up your face, and hair rollers are placed into your curls.

after your appointment with sana, she had managed to get your contact number, either through your agency or whatever else. it was mainly just for business though, she’d ask for your opinions on certain colours or ideas she had, treating you as if she didn’t fuck you senseless in her workshop upon your first meeting. you just took her lead and pretended it never happened, though every time her name lit up your phone screen you’d feel a little tingle down your spine at the memory.

"alright! let's get going team we have a lot of shots to take today!" you hear momo's stern yet excitable voice over the pop music in the studio. momo's reputation was just as prestigious as sana's, though she was admittedly a lot less intimidating. people said it was because of her general airy obliviousness that made models feel at ease and comfortable when posing for her that made her a pleasure to work with. of course, that never diminished from her actual job at hand, she was the best photographer in korea, always booked out and only shooting for the best magazines and companies across the country. she could be a little awkward but her work spoke volumes, she was simply better at communicating with her tool than with her words.

you're rushed over in your first outfit of the day, an extravagant, floral piece with a set full of colour and vibrancy. once all the stylists are done touching you up and hurriedly move out of the camera frame, momo wanders up last, smiling and adjusting your body to her desired position.

her touch is soft, barely there, it leaves goosebumps on your skin, or maybe it was the fact that the a/c was on high.

"alright?" she checks in on you, eyes twinkling.

you gulp from her proximity, the only thing separating your bodies the camera hanging around her neck. you nod sheepishly, unsure of yourself.

she smiles, "just let me know if you want to take a break or anything yeah? remember you're the most important person in the room here, if we don't have a model, we don't have pictures, so don't be afraid to make any demands at all."

you nod again, not trusting your own voice to speak, but you appreciated momo being so accommodating of you.

with that, she steps back, holds the camera up to her face, and starts taking photos.

⌞ ⌝

momo isn't the type of photographer to yell out compliments or directions while she's working. she stays quiet most of the time, only asks you to keep natural and do whatever feels comfortable. it's not awkward though, you could tell how focused she got when she was working, how much effort she put into her job, what a perfectionist she was.

soon enough, you've run through all but one of the outfits and backdrops, the swimsuit segment.

your hair is being curled into wavy, ocean-swept locks when the stylists pull out the skimpiest bikini you've ever seen. after they're done clipping together the pieces, some of them even have the shame to look away despite having seen you in all your naked glory multiple times during the shoot. you thought it was a piece that was perfectly reflective of its maker. covering almost nothing yet leaving everything to be desired, teasing in the most erotic way imaginable.

the studio has already been cold enough with the air-conditioning on full blast, but now with the new beach backdrop and a mist fan blowing directly on your body and face to give your hair the appearance of being freshly blown through with a sea breeze, you're near shivering.

it doesn't help the chills going down your spine every time momo glances over at you. and momo makes it known when she likes something and when she doesn't. and the way she was stalking towards you like you were her prey, her eyes dragging over your body again and again, licking her lips, until she's almost nose to nose with you, it was pretty safe to assume she liked what she saw.

"alright?" her voice is husky, like she's controlling herself from doing something not so work-friendly.

you can only nod, breath hitching.

"hmm... are you sure? you don't look alright."

"h-how do i look?"

she gives you a devilish glare, "i don't think you want me to answer that y/n."

"why n-not?"

she leans in even more, you almost close your eyes out of habit before you realise she's breathing next to your ear, voice low, only meant for you, "is that how we're playing this? you're gonna act stupid? or... do you have a praise kink y/n? want me to tell you what a pretty girl you are? to tell you about how i think you look absolutely succulent and how badly i want a taste? how i want you riding my face with your perfect tits swinging back and forth while you leak into my mouth, my camera set up recording every movement, every sound, every scream you'll be making because of my tongue? is that what you want to hear?"

your ears were always sensitive, even momo breathing near them has you squirming and the inside of your bikini bottoms soaked. you whimper as she whispers filth into them, feeling light-headed and desperately needing to hold onto her or you'd be at danger of falling over and exposing just what she made you feel to all of her staff.

she smirks, turning on her heel quickly and barking , "out! everyone out! good job today but I'll be finishing up these final shots myself. thank you all for your hard work."

her staff exchange glances a little uncertainly, never having been told to leave early by momo before, so they were unsure if that was what momo really meant.

momo tuts impatiently, "did you not hear me? pack up! let's go!"

her staff are prompted into movement, hastily running around and collecting their personal items before bowing out of the studio. momo glares down anyone that looks to be dawdling for too long, tapping her foot and ensuring her studio was empty before turning back to you.

you gulp, grateful the makeup on your face was covering the bright red blush on your cheeks. you both knew what was going to happen. it was a little absurd this was happening to you a second time when both times it's been 2 of the most influential people in the fashion industry. you're still in disbelief that they wanted you.

momo eyes you again with a smirk, fully appreciating you without the burden of her staff bustling around and calling for her attention in the background.

"alright gorgeous. let's do some standing poses first. whatever makes you feel the most confident."

you nod, taking in her direction and pushing one hip out, raising both arms to mess around with your hair, face morphing into a practiced smile, going for the sexy, energetic woman on the beach.

momo starts snapping away, humming and checking the photos every now and then, there were a few she took from certain angles that were a little... questionable, but you weren't one to question, so you let her do whatever her creative freedom asked her to.

"now can you lean forward? hands on your knees please."

you blush, this was a classic swimsuit stance, it would be fine, there was nothing to be shy about.

you do as she asks, switching your happy-go-lucky smile to one that’s a little more seductive.

momo takes a second to raise the camera to her eye, staring at your chest like she had lagged out. but once she does, she’s back to work, making sure she gets all the best shots.

“now lie down. on your side.”

you gulp, following her instructions. momo moves the fan to be at your face level, so it’s still blowing through your hair. she lingers a little, adjusting your face, hand on your chin. her eyes are stormy, the hint of a smirk permanently etched onto her lips. her hands drift from your chin, down to your shoulder, gliding fingers leaving goosebumps in their wake. your breath hitches audibly when she slips down to your side. she hums approvingly, her smirk growing as she traces your side, your stomach.

then she slides backwards, leans back on her knees and brings the camera back up to her eyes. you’re caught as her shirt lifts, her very visible abs peeking through.

momo clears her throat, “camera’s up here darling.”

you lick your lips, not even needing to fake your next look, reeking of pure sex. all you can think about is momo’s abs, her thighs, the way her knees are spread, her biceps, her well-endowed chest, all that muscle she was packing underneath a teasing smile.

she takes the picture.

then she’s the one leaning forward, going on all fours, crawling towards you slowly.

you hold your breath as she reaches you, nudging your hip lightly so you’re lying horizontally. and then she’s hitching a leg over your side and sitting on top of you.

your hands instinctively go to her hips but she catches them, pushing them above your head, her chest smothering your face in the process.

she leans back too soon, bringing the camera to her face, adjusting herself to sit better on your hips. “there we go. you’re a pretty girl.”

you blush brightly at her comment, looking away shyly. she starts snapping immediately, grinning. you compose yourself and look back towards the camera, biting your lip, drooping your eyes, satisfied when you hear the stutter in momo's work before she starts clicking again.

once she's happy with those shots, she moves off your body, but keeps a hand on your stomach to keep you there, pushing down slightly letting you know who was directing you, who owned you. then she's propping up a beach ball, or an umbrella, you couldn't really tell you were too focused on the way her abs tensed as she lifted and shuffled things around.

she leans you back, then slides her hands down from your stomach to your thighs, pushing gently.

your eyes widen, unable to resist as she spreads your legs, licking her lips as she stares.

“m-momo.”

“hmm?”

“um- the- the photos?”

she clicks her tongue, “impatient are we? just let me enjoy the view for a little.” her eyes track back up your body, smirking at the hooded look you give her, breaths coming in and out visibly harder, your arousal too obvious to ignore.

after what feels like forever sitting in your own slick, she finally moves backwards, bringing that goddamn camera back to her face, her smirk only growing wider with each passing second, before she starts to click.

she takes a few shots, then feigns disapproval, frowning down at her camera in the most exaggerated pout you have ever seen, so you know it’s just for show.

“y/nnnnn~” it’s cute, too cute. “i don’t like these. will you… spice it up a little?”

you take a breath before responding, steadying yourself, “spice it up?”

“yeah. y’know…”

“…i-i don’t.”

momo’s expression changes immediately, scowling, her cutesy show over in a flash, “don’t be a brat y/n. you know what i’m talking about. you think i can’t see you dripping for me? you think i can’t see the way you’re squirming, how you’re imagining the way i’d feel under you, inside you? don’t make me spell it out for you. be a good girl and do what you want to do.”

she's completely right of course. her words only encourage the thoughts you've been keeping locked away since the moment you saw her. you didn't think it was professional for this to happen a second time, hell the first time you didn't think it was professional.

but you gulp, hesitantly bring your hands down to your stomach, tracing the skin there lightly. you feel your nails dig in just lightly and you gasp, hyperaware of your body and all its sensations. the cool air of the room, that fucking fan that's been blowing wet mist at you for the past 20 minutes, momo. god momo. she was so fucking hot. in that sleazy, greasy, nice-guy way straight girls found film bros hot. except momo had the face and body to match the arrogance she hid under practiced professionalism and niceties.

you whimper as a hand trails up and captures a breast.

momo grins, bringing her camera back up to her eye, more vocal now than she has been the entire photoshoot.

"there we go. now we're getting somewhere."

you feel your breaths go heavier, no longer able to hide yourself as you ache to rub your thighs together.

she notices of course. she notices everything about your body.

"don't you fucking dare. tease yourself. make it worth it. make yourself earn it."

you try and take a breath to steady yourself again, though you don't know why, each breath hasn't been helping at all, only making the matter worse as you become more and more aware of your arousal.

with difficulty, you bring your other hand to your chest, now groping both your tits, moaning fully, completely on display for her while she snaps away.

"there we go- that's good- more like that- mhmm-"

momo mumbles praises and compliments that make your head dizzy and your pussy clench. your fingers find two hard nubs that have been begging for attention since you had gotten in this glorified piece of cloth. you pinch simultaneously and let out a pathetic sound of lust.

momo gets it all on camera. zooms in even.

knowing you had an audience, that this was being recorded, it gave you a sick sort of thrill that made each squeeze of your hands feel that much better, each click of momo's finger, like she was rubbing your clit with each photo.

one hand slips under the bikini top, doesn't reveal it to the camera, but it's obvious where it is, pulling and twisting as you writhe, legs shaking, sweat collecting, desire building.

momo comes closer, sits right between your legs, keeps them open, captures your face mid-moan, anyone could hear the pornographic sounds you were making without needing film, the pictures momo took were enough. she was that good.

the heat of another person near you makes you grow desperate. "m-momo- p-please- i- i- i need-"

"hmm? what do you need darling? tell me. remember i said you're the most important person in the room. without you, we don't have pictures, without you, i don't have a job. so, what do you need?"

"y-you! please-"

"me? what do you want me to do to for you?" she cocks her head, acts confused, you know better.

"w-what you said e-earlier! p-please i'm please- i'm begging-"

"oh you're begging? why are you doing that? i'll give you anything you want darling. there's no need to beg. do you think i'm that mean?" she pouts, has the audacity to look completely innocent even while she has you under her, dripping onto the floors of her studio, hands groping at your chest, back arching trying to get closer to her.

"m-momo!"

"what?!"

you almost cry, sliding your right hand down your stomach, straight into your bikini bottoms, the waterproof material did it's job too well. you couldn't tell from the outside, but the inside, it was drenched. you moan as your fingers meet your folds.

momo doesn't even glance down, keeps staring at you in mock ignorance.

you slide a finger up and down your slit, gritting your teeth as you rub your clit harshly. too harsh, you would come too soon. you ease up, sliding back down to your entrance, hips bucking up, other hand still twisting at a nipple.

snap!

you roll your head back as your hips rock against your hand, letting her slide down and position herself right in front of your cunt, lens pointed directly at it. you can't look at her, too embarrassed as you push your fingers in and out of yourself, just centimeters away from her face, from her instrument.

you've been groping at your chest enough that the material has ridden up, half of your chest exposed to the studio, to the flashing lights at each click of momo's fingers, and fuck you needed more space. so you hastily pull at the strings tying the bottoms together, just one side while your other hand keeps pumping in and out of you. it falls away easily and you feel yourself clench around your own fingers at the gasp momo lets out, snaps growing quicker in succession.

the hand that untied your bottoms goes right back to your neglected tit, rubbing and squeezing while you hump your hand.

you risk a glance down, and you almost cum at the sight.

momo's got one hand on her camera, the other down her pants.

it's a little pathetic, the way she's grinding down on herself, trying to alleviate the tension that's built up in her lower stomach, such a pretty girl reduced to a horny loser at the sight of pussy, but it gets you so hot knowing she was affected by you.

your eyes focus in on the hand trapped between the floor and her cunt, the rapid movements giving you an idea of what was going on inside her pants. you start to match her pace, bringing the hand that was palming at your breast to rub at your clit, pushing it around in little circles as you gasp and moan and clench for her.

momo curses under her breath, cheeks flushed as she stays on her stomach, a shaky hand still clicking away, changing settings, zooming in and out, capturing every moment of your build-up.

it was too much, her focus, the way you're pulsing, the flashes of the camera. you cum.

your vision whites out, throwing your head back, unable to hear the little curses momo lets out as she pulls her other hand out of her pants, frantically grabbing for her camera to be able to capture your full glory in your orgasm, her fingers still covered in her own slick, zipper undone as she scrambles to her feet.

you keep pushing in and out of yourself, slowing down the circling on your clit until a full stop, breathing heavily as your vision returns.

you blink, looking around hazily, pulling your fingers out of yourself with a wet squelch.

you find her eventually, stumbling around with her pants fallen to her knees while she fiddles with different cameras and light settings.

your post-orgasm haze finds her adorable. so different to the woman who said she'd have you screaming on top of her tongue. she was unpredictable, your initial canvas of her was wrong. she was simply... momo. she was unique, the only person who could possibly understand her was herself, and you doubted she understood herself. but that didn't matter, because she's good at what she does and she gets what she wants.

she notices you watching her after a little, blushing and kicking off her pants fully.

"sorry y/n just gimme a second."

you smile, shaking your head, "it's alright."

you watch fondly as she finishes up, but with her legs now exposed you can't help but feel the twinge of arousal in your core as your eyes follow the muscles of her thighs, her calves, her ass when she turns and bends. she acts so oblivious but she must know what she's doing.

you sigh, leaning back and running your hands up your stomach again, appreciating the view. you finally take off the bikini top, freeing your chest and groping freely at them as momo stands back up.

she checks the camera once more, then takes off her top. her bra follows quickly after, and she turns.

her eyes narrow as she stalks towards you, chest swinging proudly as you whimper, pinching your nipples and wishing you could just bite down on hers.

"i see you started without me."

"mhmm~"

"i told you to give me a second didn't i?" she stands above you, arms crossed over her chest, pushing her breasts together sinfully. you notice the wet spot on her underwear, trying to hide a giggle but failing.

she raises an eyebrow, pulling her panties off. that gets you to stop, your mouth watering at her cleanly shaven, dripping cunt.

"something funny?"

"n-no."

"c'mon. i like funny things. tell me."

"nothing's funny."

she kneels down in front of you, on all fours, your eyes go straight to her chest.

"impatient and a fucking liar."

you whimper.

she juts a finger behind her, her eyes never leaving yours, "i'm giving you what you wanted now. what i said. that camera's filming us, so are three others around the room, just so we get every angle. now you're gonna sit on my face and look pretty. understand?"

your eyes widen, wet already from your first orgasm, fresh arousal starting to build up. you nod.

"good girl."

you squirm at the term, watching as she lies down, then pulls on your thighs to get you to kneel on top of her. you're a little embarrassed as you lower yourself, but momo doesn't give a shit. she yanks you down and starts eating like it's her last meal.

your hand comes up to your mouth in an automatic reaction, trying to stifle the sinful moan you let out as she starts lapping at you. you can't control yourself. you never could around her. your body reacts on it's own. riding her face.

momo sucks your clit into her mouth and your knees buckle. you're afraid of suffocating her but she shares none of the same concern. arms pulling you down as you try to pull away, licking and suckling.

you look directly into the camera she has set up in front of you, imagining how messed up your hair was, how utterly ruined you looked.

momo's hands are on your ass, pulling you down still, but she lands a slap, the sound echoing throughout the empty photo studio.

you yelp, gushing into her mouth. she happily drinks it up, spanking you again.

the ripple of your cheeks must be captured on the camera behind you, maybe if momo had the quality settings right, it could even see the slick flowing from your cunt into momo's mouth, onto her tongue.

you can't bear to look into the camera anymore, eyes drifting down to momo's chest.

god you could finally see her. pretty dusk-coloured peaks sitting on top of the breasts you'd only be able to conjure up in your wettest dreams. her abs flex as she huffs with effort, making sure not to let a single drop of you go to waste, working efficiently and thoroughly at your pussy, licking into every wall, every corner. her cunt glistens, you notice her thighs rubbing together and you resist the urge to roll your eyes. you do it anyway but only because momo has her tongue inside you, hits a spot that has you seeing stars.

you test her, placing a little more weight on her face. she moans eagerly around you, pulling you down further.

satisfied she can hold you up, you shift your weight onto one hand, the other tracing down momo's chest, circling a nipple.

momo groans, vibrations sending shockwaves of pleasure up your core.

you grasp the flesh, squezzing as her tit spills out between your fingers. momo bucks her hips, almost shakes you off of her, but her grip on your ass is tight, she wouldn't be letting you go until you came all over her tongue.

you're still moaning uncontrollably when you lean down, still groping a tit, pressing your own chest against her abs that feel absolutely heavenly flexing under your nipples, rubbing and moving giving just the barest amount of friction that drove you insane.

you grip her thighs, resting the front of your body on hers so you could part them, licking your lips at the sight that greeted you.

her cunt was pulsating. clenching around nothing, slick dribbling out of her. she talked so much but she was just as turned on as you. you planned on giving her what she was too proud to ask for.

you dive in.

momo moans into your cunt, hips rocking up before you push her back down, lapping at her pussy.

she tastes divine. otherworldly. salty and sweet, uniquely hers, just like everything else about her was uniquely hers. momo's grunting and moaning so prettily, and you're cleaning her up, even while she continues making a mess, you know you're not much better.

you grind down against her while she rocks up into you, chasing your highs. you find her clit, sucking, reveling in the moan she sends through your body, not wanting to be beat, she doubles down, growing almost overly aggressive as she sends another slap down on your cheeks when you're least expecting it.

you can't hear each other, can't scream out the curses, her name, all you can do is grind and moan and suck.

the blinking red dot of the camera gets it all. every brush of nipples against stomach, every flick of tongue, every squeeze of ass.

it doesn't take much longer.

not when she just keeps sucking. you're sure she could draw your pussy by now, that she's memorised it all. you could probably draw hers.

your back arches as you cum, and you make sure she falls apart at the same time, massaging her thighs as she writhes and cums, whining into your pussy, drunk off your taste.

you roll off of her before she can get you going again, lying on your back, your elbows pushing you up as you finally get a look at her.

she's covered in you. huffing, throwing her head back to breathe, cum dribbling down her chin. you can't help but crawl towards her, licking it up, towards her lips.

she lets you kiss her, still catching her breath as she pants into your mouth, the taste of the both of you mixing on your tongues.

you break away, licking your lips and wiping your chin.

momo grins lazily, "i think we got some good content."

you snort, "you think?"

"mhmmm. mina will definitely be happy."

your eyes widen, "you're not showing these tapes to myoui mina?!"

"and to sana. she asked for them."

your mouth falls open, gaping dumbly at her while she laughs, patting your cheek.

"let me know if you ever need any shots done. i'll be happy to help. i'll send you the tapes too once it's edited." she winks, wobbling back up and going to check the footage.

you stare after her, still in disbelief that the three of them really were in kahoots this whole time. and then the self-consciousness hits. they were going to watch those tapes. they were probably going to cum to those tapes.

just what the hell kinda industry did you get yourself into?

[the-final-sif]

Dream's Response Summary

Dream posted a response to various accusations, covering just about everything ever because he was done with this shit. I've done my best to summarize it here, but I recommend going and watching his whole video. This is going to be extremely summarized for readability and I'm only going to cover stuff I consider serious so anything about speedrunning is getting skipped.

The tl:dr is: Dream never groomed anyone or had inappropriate contact with anyone underage, he provided proof that one accuser flat out lied, and the other ""accusation"" was from a third party who was never involved. The actual supposed victim released a statement that they were never groomed, nor a victim in any way, never was asked about someone sharing information about them, and wants everyone to shut the fuck up.

Police were never actually contacted, both twitter accounts were lying about doing so to make their claims seem real. Also the supposed snapchat video shown is a very obvious fake.

He covers Manatreed, the run down is the guy was a childhood best friend he grew up with and who was struggling with homelessness. Dream helped him, and never knew about the battery charge (Manatreed had lied to him about it). When Dream spoke to Manatreed's ex girlfriend, she was very clear she never wanted any of this publicly out there, that she was happy that Dream had been helping Manatreed and she wanted the best for him.

Dream still doesn't know exactly what happened with that situation, he has since lost contract with Manatreed, all he knows is he was trying to help a childhood friend and got lied to.

The first allegation from Oxy/Anastasia, he's extremely clear they only ever messaged in twitter dms and he disproves the claim about the texts/tik tok. He has a google voice number hooked up to his tik tok account for obvious reasons, and she was showing imessage texts. This is not possible, which means she was lying.

As part of this, Dream scrolls through his twitter dms and shows he responds to fans all the time and talks to people in his community from all over. He also shows how he's friends with and has hired people that were fans of his, including people like Foolish.

He discusses Amanda, the two of them messaged on instagram back when he was a much smaller creator. He showed/posted the transcript of the two of them talking about normal stuff. They had been messaging since 2020. He did attempt to post a complete transcript of those messages, but she had deleted some of her messages and he doesn't have a way to recover them.

Dream explains that Instagram has a "feature" where if you ever reply to someone, then you literally cannot remove their ability to message you without blocking them. Something I did not know about instagram and which is fucking wild.

Since he replied to her in 2020, that meant she could message him forever and her notifications would be constantly showing up for him. He attempted to delete her messages/her ability to message him back in 2021 and showed proof of this, but realized he couldn't. Dream also in doing so accidentally deleted the context to her messages that she was a fan and basically everything prior to 2021.

Since he didn't remember her (what with the prior messages deleted), she was dmnig him from her personal account without fan content on it and was talking about being a streamer, he assumed she was a smaller streamer he knew and was talking to her as such.

They were talking about music so he gave her his personal snapchat to talk and because he wanted to get some feedback on a new song he was working on. He wanted to send the song via snapchat so he could be reasonably sure it'd stay private.

Dream categorically denies any sexting with Amanda or sexual messaging at all, he goes through why she most likely did this (he had been ignoring her messages and made a new snapchat with only close friends). He also downloaded his own data (something Amanda refused to/failed to do), went through the snapchat logs and did see some messages, but never saw either of his supposed compliments to her.

Amanda claimed Dream deleted her dms and that's why she couldn't provide any of the evidence she claimed she had, but Dream showed those same DMs very clearly undeleted. The dms were never deleted and she lied as an excuse.

Amanda lied about going to the police. Dream had his lawyers file a bunch of requests, and track down the police station that she went to based on the photo. They filed every request possible for any information with this police station, and there was no record of Amanda visiting the station or any records relating to Dream whatsoever. So either she lied about filing anything, or she told a story such that the police filed literally no paperwork whatsoever about the situation. Not even a report.

Dream sent the police station a copy of his own drivers license and Amanda's information so they could contact him if anything did come up, and nothing ever did. Nothing was filed, nobody cared.

Dream got swatted several times as a result of online harassment, including his family, and the harassment was overwhelming and awful for him.

He addresses the gumball situation, he showed up to a birthday party for a friend, gumball's VA was there and kept getting aggressive with him. While on facetime with some friends, Cantu ended up hitting Dream to impress them. Dream was obviously put off by this, but at the end of the night people ended up ubering together and Dream ended up in an uber with Cantu. He thought it'd be fine since other people were involved.

Cantu dropped his phone out the window made the uber driver pull over to look for it and got in trouble with the police. The uber driver tried to talk to Cantu about handling the police in the future, and Cantu started calling the uber driver slurs and claiming the uber driver had "down syndrome".

Dream got involved, trying to defend the uber driver, and Cantu threatened to kill him and called him slurs. Later Cantu apologized and Dream wanted to forgive him. Only later, Cantu started spreading lies about him and calling him a pedophile, so Dream realized the apology wasn't sincere and called him out for his behavior.

The third party who had been filming all of this saw what Cantu was doing lying about Dream and trying to claim none of this happened. They reached out to Dream and gave him the actual video as proof of what happened. Cantu tried to threaten them out of sending Dream the video of what happened, but they ignored him and sent them anyways. Dream also had the uber driver in his video backing up what he said.

Finally, the Jamie Allegations

Jamie is a mutual friend of several people that Dream knew, she did not post the allegations, she was never contacted about any of this she made an explicit statement that she was never groomed or a victim in any way.

Dream and Jamie meet prior to Dream being a youtuber on bbh's minecraft server, they were both fans of Skeppy. Which is why Jamie was followed by Dream, Skeppy, Vurb and some other youtubers in their friend group.

Jamie is still active online and put out her own statement, the person in the screenshots never gave permission for any of this to be put out, and they are very clear that the messages were taken out of context and that the claims made are false. The person in the screens is clear Dream is not a groomer, they never accused him of that, and that the twitter account is lying.

The snapchat video shown is very obviously fake, because snapchat just magically opens itself, there's no finger or button use interacting with the screen.

The burner account never actually contacted the police, Dream records him calling to the department they claimed to contact, and the person answering is very clear they have no contact from this person.

The supposed recent document posted is a fake convo of someone using a fake twitter account to talk to "Jamie", Jamie did not talk to them and it's just fake.

All of this was incredibly damaging for Jamie, who had no idea what was going on, and was getting harassed/stalked/having her irls contact.

Dream has also faced waves of harassment over obviously fake allegations, people have just been taking them at face value. He also shows how easy it is to fake these things as I have done.

He's been swatted, harassed, his family has been swatted and harassed, he's been scared for his own safety several times. It's been awful for him, and all based on fake shit. He's not stepping back from minecraft, but he is stepping back from twitter and no longer engaging with people behaving this way.

Also his ping pong record was undefeated.

[harksness]

No Going Back

Summary: An incurable illness plagues you, something one of a kind that has never been seen before. It corrupts magic, leaving you unable to use your powers without risking death or worse. Someone wants all of your unused power themselves, and a reluctant Agatha Harkness is convinced to keep you safe after some bribing.

A/N: aaa I've had the idea for this for like 2yrs now!!! I'm super excited to be finishing it and posting it finally!! It's my first in depth, planned fanfic and I'm super excited to share it I hope you guys like it <3

(Also lowk paranoid that some of the creative decisions I made for this fic are gonna end up being explained in the show so just nevermind that if it happens we're just here for some fun romance and smut with Agatha ok)

WC: 3k

Anxiety gnaws away at your insides as you flick on your blinker, knuckles tightening around the steering wheel as you turn down that familiar dirt road that you hate so much. That long, winding dirt road that also leads to the house that you hate so much.

You try the breathing exercises your therapist taught you. The slow, calculated inhales, the holding your breath, and slow calculated exhales, but it does nothing to relieve the feeling in your chest that’s suffocating you. 

The cars headlights cut through the darkness, thick layers of tall, old trees swarming each side of the road as their branches bow overhead. You can’t even see the night sky through the thick layers of leaves.

You’re positive that if you had consulted your therapist about this little visit before coming, she would have told you that it’s not a good idea. That reopening old wounds after basically being no contact for four years would undo a lot of healing and hard work. 

But, when you listened to your fathers urgent voicemail, you knew you needed to come. You had no choice. The deal you made with him before leaving was more than fair. He agreed to leave you alone and only contact you if it was a necessary emergency. And you agreed to that more than fair deal.

He wanted you to be as far away from him as possible, and you wanted the same thing. To be far, far away from him and any reminders of what happened to you, your childhood and the toxic magical community you grew up in.

You’re sure that you were only able to get away because of your little defect. And because after your mother died, he immediately remarried and your father didn’t waste time popping out plenty of new babies, pureblooded heirs that could flawlessly wield their old blood magic unlike you.

If your father called you back home you know it’s a serious, urgent matter. And that only makes your chest grow tighter as you turn the last bend and your childhood home comes into view.

“Well.. Here we go..”

You grumble to yourself, the tall, menacing house looming over you amongst all of the trees. The night sky actually cuts through these parts, the moonglow illuminating the house and its surroundings as you pull up to the front door. Immediately you kill the engine and shift your car into park, leaning forward to peer up at the house.

The pristine white under the moonlight makes it look like it’s glowing. It stands tall and proud and perfect, no chipping or dirt in sight. A black roof sits on top, perfectly black framed windows spread along the sides of the house, and not a single one is lit up with evidence of life. Curiously, you keep peering, checking for a sign of anyone being in the house. With a deep breath you grab your keys and your bag and exit the car.

It’s dead silent, save for the sound of crickets and the rustling of leaves in the trees when a soft breeze blows through. You pause as you take a deep breath to steady yourself. Cautiously, you walk around to the other side of the house, leaning over and peering just enough to see if any lights were turned on. 

Nope. Nothing. All of the windows are black as pitch. You groan, pinching your eyes shut as you try to soothe yourself by rubbing your fingers on your forehead.

Whatever. You’ll just go inside and call your father. You’d be dead meat if you left without his permission, anyways. He sounded very urgent. Deathly urgent. With a deep exhale pushing past your lips, you walk back around the house, the wind chilling your cheeks as you start to make your way up the front steps. 

No door handle, just a block of smooth painted wood that looks like a door. A wave of exhaustion overtakes you as you press your palm to the smooth center of the wood, your features dropping as an electric blue glow flows in ripples over the door before it parts for you, splitting down the middle and swinging open.

The main hall is eerily dark and you have to force yourself to move forward. The moonlight is bright enough to where you can see, but everything is shadowed. The hall stretches out far, down the length of the entire house before leading to the wide, open stairs that would take you up to the expansive second level. 

A hard, loud slam echoes through the halls and shakes the house. It’s enough for you to let out a scream and jump as you fling yourself around to the source of the noise, noticing the front doors are sealed closed. Your face scrunches in confusion at the sight. It should just.. Close like a normal door as soon as you are comfortably in the threshold of the house. Never have you seen it linger or slam like that before, not even in your years growing up here.

You sigh, deciding to brush it off even though you know something is wrong, more so because you know that you’re incapable of protecting yourself like a normal witch would be able to so gaslighting yourself is just the easier option for now.

Besides, whatever’s wrong can’t be life endangering to you. The property is warded and safe, it’s basically impossible to get through to the house let alone inside of it. Hundreds of years of magical wards and barriers make sure of that. So, you grab your phone out of your coat pocket, your fingers cold as you pull up your fathers contact and press the call button.

You raise the phone to your ear as the sound of the monotonous chimes ring through the silent rooms as you pass through them, cautiously walking into the family room. The sound of your boots is muffled by the thick carpet as you walk over it to peer out of the window. The wind rushes against the side of the house, the echo of the noise whispering through the silent halls of your childhood home.

“Okay, I’m at the house. What’s going on and where are you? Please… Just call me back.”

Lowering the phone with a tense sigh, you drop it back into your coat pocket before turning back to the window. You decide to analyze the treeline for any sign of something being off, and you see something that makes your heart drop into the pit of your stomach.

One of the protective runes carved into one of the trees has been singed off. You can tell by the sizzling burn marks that it was magic, the bark of the tree burned all the way through and to the wood underneath, leaving no sign of the runes that were previously there. Your throat dries up.

Whoever did that had to have broken through two other protective barriers on the property. It’s tough magic and in order to break through it… You’d need some scarily powerful magic on your side.

There’s only been a few times over the decades since the house was built that someone has been able to break through the protective barriers. The last time was when your mother was assassinated and you were left for dead when you were a child.

You can’t stop the panic from bubbling in your chest this time, not knowing what to do or how to protect yourself. Your mind is frantic as you search for a solution, your hand moving to fist the pendant hanging from your neck, but something catches your eye and you freeze. In the reflection of the window you see her, a woman reclining in your fathers favorite chair. The back of the extravagant, plush red chair reaches high, the woman is slumped down in it, her black heeled boots dangling over one armrest of the chair as she gently swings her feet back and forth, the fabric of her purple skirt swaying with each movement.

Her body is twisted just a bit so that her front is tilted towards you, her chin resting in her palm. She’s donning a very traditionally witchy getup. Her wild, brown curls fall off of her head in crazy waves as it cascades over her shoulders. Her lips are quirked in the snarkiest smirk you’ve ever seen, your chest tightening even further when you notice her bright blue eyes are planted right on you. 

You whip around to face her, your eyes widening when you see her with your own two eyes and not in the window's reflection, confirming this is real and not a figment of your imagination.

“Oh my goodness! It took you long enough to notice me! If this were a horror movie, or if I actually wanted to kill you, you would’ve been dead the second those doors slammed shut, sweetheart.”

The woman's smooth voice has a taunting edge to it. She swings her feet over and around and they land against the carpet with a dramatic thump! before she pushes herself out of the chair and onto her feet.

“Thank god I don’t want to kill you.”

Her smirk drops into a warning smile, her voice doing the same. You’re gripping your pendant so tightly that you can feel it cutting into the skin of your palm.

“What do you mean? What do you want?”

You ask, your voice shaky and soft. She drops her gaze to your fist, pointing at it.

“That’s what I want.”

Her eyes meet yours again as she takes a few steps towards you. 

“Are you gonna be a good girl and give it to me? Or do I have to take it from you?”

She holds out her hand, and that’s when your gaze catches on the pendant on her neck. Your eyes widen in horror, taking a slow step backwards.

Every witch knows about Agatha Harkness. About her long list of crimes, both magical and not. Especially those of you connected to the elder families. She’s successfully stolen from some, even killed a few. She was a suspect in your mothers murder and your assault, but was ruled out for having been out of the country at the time.

“Why do you want it?”

You stutter through the sentence, trying to distract her for a moment as you mentally prepare yourself for what you’re about to do. You just keep hoping, praying to whatever god is listening, that you can get your magic to work right just this once.

“Stop stalling, honey.. You know exactly why I want it.”

You take her words as your signal to call on your magic, and it appears in a sickly blue-ish yellow glow, enveloping you as you feel it wash over you, turning you invisible. You start cursing internally, knowing your magic won’t last long enough to keep you safe. But you have to try something. 

You don’t know what to do. Just run to your car, which probably won’t work, hide, which also probably won’t work, or somehow try to distract her which is your best bet but also probably won’t work.

So, you start booking it down the hall, the hard thumps of your feet on wood rattling through the old house as you dart for the stairs. Your fingers wrap around the bannister and you start running up the steps, taking them two steps at a time as you desperately search your mind for a good place to hide. 

“It’s funny you think you can hide, sweetheart.”

Agatha calls after you, and you can already hear her making her way up the stairs. She’s taking her time as she follows after you. You bolt down the hall, finding your old bedroom. When you throw open the door you’re not surprised to see that they renovated it, it seems to be an art studio for your step mother now.

You step back into the hallway, remaining invisible as you quietly move out of the way. Agatha is making her way down the hall, her robes and long hair flowing dramatically behind her as she approaches the door you flung open.

“Oh, come on.. Just make this easier for the both of us and come on out.”

She laughs as she sticks her head into the room, surveying it. She must be suspicious that you’re not actually in there. You take the opportunity to do something you’ve never tried before, something stupid that could kill you- and you call on your magic.

You raise your hand, closing your eyes as you carefully begin to draw your power from the pendant around your neck. It’s unstable in its pure form like this, your anxiety bubbling in your chest as you draw it into your hand, feeling it crackle and pop like a fire. You feel the invisibility spell wash off of you like water, your fingers flicking backwards in time with the powerful bursts of magic.

You build the magic steadily, higher and higher as you wait for her to turn around.

When she finally does, you twist your arms, using all of your strength to fling the yellow-blue ball of magic right into the woman. She flies backwards, and you hear the crashing noises as she falls right into all of the easels and canvases.

Peering through the door, you see her in a clump on the floor with the broken and tattered art supplies. She blows a long piece of thick brown hair that hand landed in her face out of the way with a dramatic puff of her lips.

“I thought you couldn’t use magic..”

Agatha grumbles as she climbs to her feet, dusting herself off. She pauses, an uneasy look overtaking her face.

“What.. What was that?”

She groans, wrapping her arms around her stomach where your magic had landed. You let out a breathy, surprised laugh. 

“What did you do to me!? I thought you couldn't use magic!”

Agatha yells at you, rage seeping through her voice as it booms in the halls of the house. Fear grips you again as you straighten up, not bothering to give her an explanation.

She groans out in pain behind you, and you start running. Your feet heavy thumps as you book it down the hall, thinking you finally got a chance.

Not only does she need to realize what's happening to her, she needs to purge it from her body. Someone that powerful shouldn't have an issue dealing with it, but fighting it out should stall just long enough for you to get away.

Or so you thought.

Something hits you so hard that you fall to the ground, landing roughly on your right arm. The force of your body hitting the hard wood beneath you causes your head to snap against the floor too, a loud yelp of pain pushing out of your throat as pain shoots in hot flashes across your skull and down your arm.

A few seconds later you’re blinking dumbly as you try to regain your senses, your head ringing and vision blurry from your hard fall. Your eyes roll in your head, a groggy groan escaping your lips as you desperately try to pick yourself off the ground.

Your right arm is stuck. Shoulder to hand, as if it’s superglued to the wood beneath you. Desperately you pull on your arm, trying to sit up to no avail as you hear the woman approaching you from behind.

You’re basically a bug that walked into a sticky trap, helpless as you watch your impending demise approach you. You turn your head to the sound of boots on the wooden floor, seeing Agatha sauntering towards you, purple skirt swaying around the ankles of her black boots. You’re just barely able to make out a coherent thought through all of the pain and fog clouding your mind- you’re fucked.

Your heart is pounding in your chest, your head throbbing in time with every beat as the woman crouches down before you. You’re unable to focus on her features, desperately wincing and pinching your eyes shut to try and get rid of the pain. Her fingers wrap around your jaw, biting softly into your cheeks as she focuses your lolling head on her gaze.

“I’m sorry.. I didn’t mean for you to hit the ground that hard. Don’t wanna risk damaging that pretty face, hm?”

You blink rapidly as she starts to come into focus. You try to gargle out a response, but find yourself unable to as pain shoots through your skull. She coos at you with wide eyes, raising her free hand to run softly over the top of your head.

“At the very least, there’s gonna be a bump. At the very most, a concussion.. I really am sorry, but I needed this-”

Her hand is reaching towards your neck. Panic spikes in your chest when you realize she’s going to grab your necklace.

“N-no!”

You force the word past your lips in a desperate stutter, your voice echoing through the long hall so loudly that it surprises you. The witch before you even seems a bit taken off guard, curling her fingers back as she retreats her hand only slightly.

“What’s wrong with your magic..”

She asks, her voice soft and firm as her eyes narrow at you in curiosity. Panic is bubbling in your chest, rising in your throat.

“I don’t know.”

You whisper in return, before that all too familiar flash of blue-yellow magic lights up between the two of you. Agatha raises her hands, manifesting a wide, purple shield the exact moment your unstable magic collides with it. A loud noise sounds right when it collides with hers, shaking the house and echoing loudly in your ears. Your head flies in the opposite direction at the force, smacking against the floor once again as your vision goes black.

[jessejaredstories]

Walk on the Wild Side

Sergio was a walking gay man’s fantasy. He was tall and muscular as fuck. Beefy could barely even begin to describe him as everything from his biceps, chest, thighs, back, and even ass were massive! He made his living off of flexing his hot body as well as fucking other beefy dudes on camera. Sergio was truly living the life many could only dream of having.

But although Sergio was living the good life, he couldn't deny that something was missing. More specifically, something about his sex life. Sergio loved his very active sex life and was more often than not satisfied after every hookup he had. Yet at the same time, Sergio found himself wanting more. He wanted something new, and he knew exactly who to contact. Kris the Kink Witch.

Sergio reached out to Kris through Twitter DMs. Kris, like Sergio, also made his living off of recording and selling the videos of his gay escapades. He was known to be one incredibly kinky motherfucker online, and he took great pride in it too- as evidenced by his self proclaimed title the Kink Witch. But unlike Sergio, Kris took a much more professional approach to his line of work. For Kris, it wasn't about pleasure, it was about money. He meant business, and he never shied away from demonstrating that fact.

Fortunately, Sergio was also pretty well-known in the online gay community. Kris recognized Sergio and responded back to him within a couple of minutes. Their conversation went as follows...

S: Hey, you're the Kink Witch right? I've got a request in mind.

K: Yo. Yeah that's me. You want to film a collab together?

S: Not at all. I was actually thinking you and I can link up and have some fun. No cameras. 

K: Sorry, I don't do charity work. 

S: Trust me, I don't either. I just need to have some real fun and I know someone like you can help me out with that goal. I'll pay you a good amount too if you're interested.

K: Go on, I'm listening...

Sergio and Kris went on to negotiate the deal. In exchange for a kinky night of fun, Sergio would pay Kris $2500 in cold, hard cash. However, in order to earn that money, Kris needed to get Sergio to cum and to feel real pleasure while doing it too. But before they could seal the deal, Sergio gave Kris a heads-up by saying that he had already done almost everything anyone can think of. If it wasn't something new and exciting like he wanted, then Sergio had no problem calling the deal off. Yet despite his stark warning, Kris accepted the deal without any hesitation. It slightly unnerved Sergio how confident Kris was. He was pretty sure they both had more or less the same amount of experience when it came to sex. Could Kris really know something Sergio didn't?

Regardless of the initial unease Sergio felt, it was too late to back down now. Kris was already on his way to his apartment. Sergio passed the time by doing the usual prep work of cleaning himself out, just as Kris told him to. Yet despite his best efforts to distract himself, Sergio couldn't help but wonder what Kris had in store for him.

Does this twink really think he's gonna satisfy me just by fucking me? Ha! I've already taken on plenty of men, there's nothing new he can do there! 

Sergio chuckled at his own thoughts. His curiosity was making his mind run wild. Luckily it didn't take much longer for Kris to arrive. He showed up at the entrance of the building and Sergio buzzed him in. Sergio then welcomed the young man into his home, and although he was excited to hook up, he couldn't help but wonder if he was in over his head by hiring some 20 something year old dude with messy hair and a dirty hoodie. 

"Alright, you ready?" Kris said as he began to strip down to nothing but his underwear. 

"Yeah, do you wanna go-" 

"Wrong answer," Kris interrupted Sergio. "I'll excuse the first mistake but you'll only address me as Sir, Daddy, or Papi from here on out. Got it?" 

Sergio was thrown off by how to-the-point Kris was but decided to just ignore it. 

"Yes, Sir." 

"Good boy, now whip out your cock. Get hard too,"

Sergio did as he was told. Kris did the same. Sergio was impressed with Kris' member. It was long and hairy with some decent girth too. Although his was definitely longer, Sergio's cock was the thicker one. They were both hung, Sergio like a bull and Kris like a horse. Once they were both erect, Kris reached down to his pants. He pulled out two rings out of the back pocket, one gold and one silver. He put the gold ring on, then handed the silver cock ring to Sergio.

"Put this on, then on the count of 3, twist it to the right."

Sergio held the cock ring in his hand. The silver hue of the ring almost seemed to glimmer under the light. He hesitated putting it on. It definitely wasn't the first time he wore a cock ring, but Sergio got an inexplicable feeling telling him that he shouldn't put it on. Kris noticed his hesitation right away.

"C'mon, don't be shy, put it on!" Kris said firmly. Sergio looked up and met his gaze but didn't say anything. A moment of silence passed, then Kris sighed.

"Look man, you paid me to do a job and I plan to deliver. You trust me, right?" 

Kris seemed slightly more empathetic now. It was just enough to make Sergio trust him. Sergio nodded, then proceeded to put on the ring. He placed it on the tip of his dick and slid it down to the base of his rock hard member. 

"Alright, ready? 1... 2... 3!!!"

Sergio and Kris then twisted their cock rings to the right at the same time. The moment they did, a wave of orgasmic sensations hit their bodies, causing them to throw their heads back with pleasure. 

"UURRGGGHHHHH!!!" They both moaned obscenely loudly. 

Sergio's vision blurred as he felt the wave of pleasure overtake him. His body trembled as the ring grew tighter around his cock, making it engorged. Then suddenly, Sergio became extremely lightheaded. He could feel his very soul leaving his body. As his soul stepped out of its vessel, Sergio lost all physical feeling as he became nothing but a mass of light. He looked ahead and saw the same had happened to Kris. Both of their souls had just stepped out of their bodies!

Sergio was mind blown by what he was seeing. But before he could even react, his soul began moving on its own. His soul was floating towards Kris' body. At the same time, Kris was floating towards his body. During the brief moment they passed each other, Sergio could've sworn he saw Kris smirking. His soul continued its march towards Kris' body, and as soon as it made contact, it began sinking into the soulless body. Sergio's soul aligned with its new vessel within seconds. Every single cell of Kris' was invaded by Sergio's soul, and he could feel ecstasy wash over him as his soon-to-be new body surrended itself to his control. Once it was done, Sergio immediately felt the difference as he longer possessed his jacked, beefy body but instead a hairy twink like Kris. 

"Arghh fuckk.. what the fuck..." Sergio said with his new voice. All of the extraordinary sensations he just experienced made him fall to the ground. While he was busy trying to recover, he could see his body moving out of the corner of his eyes. 

"Bro look at these fucking pecs! These are some massive slabs of meat on your chest!!" 

Sergio watched as Kris bounced and groped his pecs with shameless joy. Slowly but surely, while Kris was enjoying himself, Sergio came back to his senses. He sat up, then kneeled down onto his knees. Well, Sergio was mostly back to his senses anyway. The sight of seeing a burly man play his own chest was filling him with lust. The only thing on Sergio's mind was how to best worship and please his master. 

Kris noticed Sergio was basically drooling and smirked.

"What's the matter, you want something?" Kris stripped down naked, then bounced his pecs again. Sergio nodded his head vigorously. "Then ask for it, tell Daddy what you want."

"I want milk Daddy..." Sergio said with bated breath and dilated pupils. "Please, Sir, let me worship your beautiful pecs!" 

"Good boy," Kris put his thumb on Sergio's chin and flicked it down, leaving his mouth hanging open with his tongue out. "Now show your Daddy what you can do with that mouth."

As soon as he heard he got permission, Sergio couldn't contain himself anymore and pounced onto Kris. He immediately planted his mouth on one of Kris' nipples and began suckling away while Kris enjoyed getting serviced. He was smirking all the while. His plan had gone off perfectly; the cock rings switched their bodies! That was the kink Kris had planned for Sergio, and he knew it would be the fun night he could've never predicted. After all, nobody knew how literal his title of Kink Witch was. But while Sergio was aware that they switched bodies, there was one little detail Kris kept to himself. Both rings would allow a body swap, but only the gold one would let the user retain their original personality. Because Sergio used the silver cock ring, his soul was forced to absorb Kris' hidden total sub personality when it took over his body. It might still be Sergio in mind and spirit, but it was now Kris in personality. With Kris possessing Sergio's muscular body with his mind still intact, the conditions were now set for him to complete the request Sergio made. 

"FUCK yeah, just like that!" Kris moaned. He could feel as Sergio alternated between licking, sucking, and flicking his nipple with his tongue. His warm mouth felt amazing against his sensitive nipples. Kris pressed Sergio's face down into his chest. Sergio let out a muffled groan of pleasure as he motorboated Kris. They were both having the time of their lives, filling the room with their sensual moans. 

Kris let Sergio worship his chest for a while longer before moving onto the next phases. Within the span of the next half hour, they made out passionately and intensely. Kris stuck his tongue inside Sergio's mouth as they grinded their bodies together, sharing their body heat together. Kris then began moving his mouth down Sergio's body, covering his neck and torso with hickies as he bit and sucked on his body. All while Kris had his middle finger firmly set inside Sergio's ass, massaging his hole and making him squirm while he claimed him as his sub. 

Then, before the final act, Kris tore Sergio off his body. He had a hand wrapped around his throat, lightly choking the panting young man. Sergio's eyes were lit with an intense lust, begging and desperate for more. Kris smiled internally. He had him right where he wanted him.

"Fuck, Boy!! You really know how to please your Master, I wanna give you a reward... Are you ready? Are you ready for Daddy's present for his favorite sub?" 

Sergio whispered "yes Sir, please Sir." Kris then pulled out a couple more things he brought and gave them to Sergio, who put them on enthusiastically. 

Sergio laid there with his ass perked up. Kris came up from behind and laid his big, strong hands on Sergio's perky cheeks. He massaged him first, letting Sergio's bubble butt jiggle in his hands for a bit. He then spread his cheeks apart and leaned down to stick his tongue deep inside his ass.

"Nghh..." Sergio groaned. He could feel Kris' tongue swirl and flick around inside of him and it. Felt. AMAZING. 

Kris ate Sergio out for a while, making sure his ass was nice, wet, and ready for his girthy cock. Once he had enough of using his tongue, Kris got back up and positioned himself just above Sergio. He let his dick rest in between his cheeks and moved it up and down, making Sergio squirm in anticipation. Then, with a wide grin on his face, Kris stuck his dick inside of Sergio. He let out a silent "fuck..." as he watched his cock head penetrate his bound up sub. He thrusted slowly, letting inch by inch of his fat member disappear into Sergio's hole. Kris was proud of his tight and warm hole, and now he finally got a chance to fuck himself in a very literal way. He waited a bit to let Sergio's wall expand to accommodate his dick, then began pounding away at him. 

Loud obscene moans, guttural groans, and boorish grunts filled the room as the two men fucked. Kris found the perfect rhythm to move his hips, fucking Sergio like he was a jackhammer. Sergio closed his eyes as he took the dicking down like a champ. Somewhere in the back of his head was the vague memory that he and Kris had switched bodies. The thought of getting fucked by his own body made his pleasure increase tenfold. It was his own cock stretching out his hole and rearranging his insides. It was a strange thought, but Sergio didn't care. All he could think about was how he was Daddy's personal fleshlight and how much he was loving servicing a big, strong man like Daddy. 

They fucked for a while longer until Kris couldn't hold his load in any longer. He pulled out, flipped Sergio over, tore off the jockstrap, then stuck his cock back on.

"C'MON! CUM FOR ME! COVER ME WITH YOUR- FUCKKKKK!!!!"

Kris finished mid sentence. He rammed his throbbing dick deep inside Sergio and let out all of his loads inside of him. Hearing Kris' satisfied groaning as he cummed along with the sensation of getting filled with his seed made Sergio shootout ropes of warm jizz all over. Within seconds, they had both become incredibly sweaty, potently musky, and drenched in Sergio's spunk. Sergio got his walk on the wild side and Kris completed his job.

Once they cooled down and cleaned up, Sergio collapsed onto his bed. Aside from the mind blowing sex, he was also exhausted by swapping bodies. He was a first time swapper after all, it was only natural. 

But just before he could drift away into a deep sleep, he noticed Kris was still moving around with his body.

"Hey... what are you doing?"

"Daddy's gonna go have a night out with his bros. Don't worry about it, just go to sleep."

Kris hopped into bed with Sergio. He kissed him on the forehead, snuggled with him, and watched as he fell asleep in his embrace. Sergio was way too tired to question it, and Kris was glad. Kris then hopped out of bed and let Sergio rest inside his body while he went out to complete his next assignment: find a hairy, muscle bear with a big ass. Now it was his turn to bottom, and although Sergio woke up the next morning not knowing where Master was with his body, he had no problem patiently and eagerly waiting until Daddy returned home.

[joelscruff]

one thing i'm missing (joel miller/reader) PART ONE

hi there ! i'm new to the tlou fandom but not new to fic, and watching the show over the past few months inspired me to return to fic writing. the idea for this has been milling around in my head for a good chunk of time now and i finally felt ready to put pen to paper and get this thing started. i've already posted this to ao3 if you prefer that medium, but i'll also be posting it here now. let me know what you think!

summary: you and joel accidentally end up falling asleep together, and what follows is the beginning of a quiet and tender relationship neither of you saw coming. rating: 18+ explicit (this part is not explicit but this fic will be) warnings: (for future parts) smut, age difference (reader is in her mid 20s and joel in his mid 50s), praise kink - will add more as fic progresses word count: about 2.6k

You don't, under absolutely any circumstances, talk about it.

It started about a month ago, after all the shit that happened with that monster, David. After Ellie had decided she wanted to start sleeping alone.

It hadn't really been a conscious decision on her part, but you'd noticed that first night how she'd distanced herself from you and Joel when it was time to sleep. She'd curled up against the far wall of the basement with barely a word, shutting herself off entirely while you'd tended to Joel's injury. Prior to this – ever since Joel was stabbed – Ellie had started sleeping at his side, head on his chest, listening to his heart and hoping against all hope that it kept beating. You'd slept a few feet away, hoping desperately for the same thing.

After David, she avoided physical contact entirely. You and Joel wordlessly understood, though you could tell it alarmed and concerned him. Though he'd been in and out of consciousness for the past few weeks you know he'd become accustomed to having her at his side, curled into him with that familiar daughterly affection he'd been missing for twenty years. Seeing her ultimately decide that she no longer wanted that closeness, probably feared it, distressed him greatly.

“Fuckin' bastard,” Joel had murmured to himself that first night as you cleaned his wound – you'd learned what to do from watching Ellie, “I'll fucking kill him.”

“Shhh,” you'd hushed him, keeping your voice low in case Ellie was still awake, “He's dead and gone, she took care of it.”

“Shouldn't have had to,” he'd hissed, “Fuckin' bastard.”

He'd slept poorly. You knew because every so often you'd hear him mutter something else to himself about David between short fits of sleep. You didn't sleep much either, partly because in the wake of Ellie's sudden distance it was now your job to monitor Joel's wound, but also because you felt the same way Joel did. The thought of that monster... what he'd done to Ellie and what he'd tried to do... you'd never felt so much disdain and hatred for one person in your life. Every time you closed your eyes all you could see was the look on her blood-spattered face when you'd both found her, the way she'd barely been able to speak... you could only imagine how much worse the images behind Ellie's eyelids were.

So she slept alone now, which meant Joel slept alone.

For a little while, that is.

-

After a few days of short spurts of travel and staying in more abandoned houses (Joel wasn't well enough to walk much, though he tried to deny it, much to the frustration of you and Ellie) you'd set up camp on the outskirts of a small community. Ellie hadn't talked much and Joel hadn't been fully in his right mind since you left that first house, so the decision-making had fallen to you for the time being. Truthfully, you were done with the mouldy mattresses and hard concrete of those suburban basements, the smell of rotting food and being bothered by mice and cockroaches while you tried – and failed – to fall asleep. Neither Joel nor Ellie argued when you suggested setting up a campsite in the woods for a change of scenery.

The snow had melted quite a bit and there hadn't been anything fresh in almost a week, the temperature rising rapidly the further you walked. The idea of sleeping underneath the stars again with fresh air in your lungs and the sound of the wind blowing through the trees was enough to keep you going that day. That night, you'd watched as Joel made a fire with the materials you'd collected, Ellie already bundled up inside her sleeping bag a few meters away.

“Hey, you sure you're not gonna be cold over there?” you'd called to her gently, already knowing the answer.

“I'm good,” she'd replied, sounding earnest enough, “If I get cold I'll move.”

You'd sighed quietly, turning back toward the fire. Joel was blowing lightly on some kindling, eyebrows furrowed in thought. You used this rare moment of him being distracted to analyze his face; the dark circles beneath his eyes had been growing more prominent over the past few days, and he'd gotten into the unconscious habit of blinking very slowly, like he was always just a few seconds from sleep. You'd never seen him look this exhausted.

“You need to sleep,” you'd murmured, and his eyes had snapped up to meet yours instantly, “I'm serious, Joel, you look...”

“I'm fine.”

“You don't look fine,” you shifted your eyesight to the fire, lifting your hands to warm your palms, “You look like you haven't slept in days, which you literally haven't, by the way.”

“I've slept,” he'd grunted, turning his attention back to the fire as well.

“Yeah, for maybe twenty minutes at a time.”

“Well, maybe if I wasn't bein' woken up every twenty minutes by you checking if I'm still breathin',” his voice was hard and cold, but you were used to it.

“Don't be dramatic,” you'd snapped back, “I check you maybe twice a night now, if even that. Sorry for wanting to make sure you're okay.” The last few words had come out shakier than you'd intended.

He'd inhaled deeply, and you could see him looking at you again in your peripheral vision, “You're right, I'm sorry. I'm being an asshole. As usual.”

“You're not an asshole,” you'd muttered, “you're tired. And so am I.”

You'd sat together in silence for a few moments before Joel had reached behind him for his pack, digging out the blanket he'd started using in lieu of his old sleeping bag. He'd decided to leave that behind; it was what you and Ellie had used to get him back to that first house, the one Callus had dragged across the icy terrain with a bloodied and near-death Joel as its only occupant. He'd pissed himself in it, which he'd attributed as the main reason for leaving it. But you knew the truth: he'd spent too long wrapped up inside of it during that period of time to ever get a good night's sleep from it again. It needed to be put out of its misery.

Both you and Ellie had offered to give him your own but he refused every time, repeatedly stating that the blanket Ellie had found was warm enough, if not even warmer than the sleeping bag had been. You honestly didn't know if he was telling the truth, but he gave you no choice but to believe him.

“You take first watch, then.” he said quietly, “We're out in the open again, gonna have to stay alert.”

“Got it,” you were a bit embarrassed by your brief moment of vulnerability, but you'd quickly busied yourself with picking up the rifle to hold it in your lap.

You'd watched as he spread out the blanket on the ground, carefully kneeling down and wincing at the pull of his stitches. He laid down on the edge of it, then reached over and pulled the other side over his body like a makeshift sleeping bag. Sighing contentedly, he'd closed his eyes.

Despite how much older than you he was, the word adorable couldn't help but cross your mind.

“Goodnight,” he mumbled quietly to you, and you'd forced yourself to look down at the rifle so he wouldn't catch you staring.

“Night, Joel.”

-

You'd quickly learned that Joel's new blanket was in fact not warmer than his sleeping bag. After a few hours of keeping watch, you decided to check on both Ellie and Joel to make sure they were doing alright. Ellie was fast asleep and didn't look to be shivering or experiencing a bad night's sleep; she actually looked more peaceful than you'd seen her for a long time. You'd smiled fondly, fighting back the urge to push her hair out of her eyes; she'd made things very clear and you weren't going to overstep.

You wandered over to Joel and the contrast between he and Ellie was staggering; there was no peace here. He was wide awake, shivering ferociously and hunched in on himself with his hands cupped around his mouth as he blew on them for warmth.

“Jesus Christ, Joel,” you'd immediately dropped the rifle and leaned down to him, “why the fuck didn't you tell me you were freezing?”

It actually wasn't a very cold night, but the combination of Joel's thin blanket, his injury, and the fact that he was overwhelmingly exhausted were just making everything ten times worse. He also hadn't slept outside for weeks. You immediately began to regret the decision to camp tonight.

“Hold on,” you'd said quickly, scrambling back up to grab your own sleeping bag. You unzipped it so it was wide, then draped it over Joel's shivering form, “I'm gonna give you some body heat, okay? Don't make it weird.” You'd only said the last part because you knew he would protest.

You'd crawled underneath both layers of material and without any hesitation wrapped your arms around Joel, ignoring his shaky mutterings of “I'm okay” and “you don't need to”. He'd surrendered very quickly, relaxing into your embrace as you ran your hands up and down his arms at the fastest pace you could muster. You alternated between his arms and hands, taking them in yours and rubbing your palms against them like you were trying to start a fire, huffing hot breath against his skin. Beneath the blanket, you entwined your legs with his, pulling his socked feet against your ankles and trapping them there to warm them up.

It only took a few moments for the heavy shakes to stop and for Joel's breath to even out again. Despite this, you stayed where you were and kept doing what you could to keep his temperature stable. As he warmed up, he began to feel more like himself; he was no longer a cold statue but the warm and solid man you'd come to recognize, and you were hyper-aware of the fact that despite spending so much time with each other you'd never actually been this close to him. His arms, strong and steady beneath his coat, the same arms that carried around that heavy pack all day, the arms that cradled the rifle, they now laid loose and tender under your touch. His hands, calloused and rough around the edges but soft at the palms, the same hands that set the fire still burning a few feet away, the hands that once held his daughter and had learned to hold Ellie's – and now yours, feeling like in some way they belonged there.

You'd known you felt something for Joel, but you'd never realized how strong and real that something was until it was literally in your embrace.

Without speaking you'd laid your head on his chest, closing your eyes and doing your damnedest to fight back the sudden tears that were threatening to well up. Holy shit, was all you could think, a warmth you'd never felt in your entire life radiating in your chest and somehow extending toward him. Holy fucking shit. It was like time had stopped and all you could feel was him.

You'd looked up at his face, needing to see if he felt it too, felt you the way you felt him, but your eyes widened slightly when you saw that his were closed, mouth slightly agape. There it was, that peace you'd seen on Ellie's face, now transferred to Joel's. For a brief second you felt panic, but it was immediately interrupted by the light snore that emitted from his open mouth. He'd fallen asleep.

And a few moments later, so had you.

-

That was the first night you'd slept solid without waking up even once. Not just since Joel had been stabbed, but since the pandemic had started to begin with. You can't recall ever having such a peaceful, dreamless, absolutely soul-refreshing sleep. And neither had Joel; when you woke the next morning he was still fast asleep in your embrace, that peaceful expression still sculpted on his face like he was a living Michelangelo. In the night you'd only gotten closer to him, legs still entwined and head still on his chest. The only difference was that your arms had obviously stopped their rapid movements to keep him warm, and they'd ended up snaked around his torso, the palm of your left hand laying flat against the hot skin of his waist, just above where his stitches were.

Maybe you should have pulled away when you realized, gotten up and pretended it didn't happen. The thought did cross your mind, but then Joel had shuffled a bit in his sleep and you'd become aware of the fact that his arms were around you, hand pressed flush against your bare back underneath your jacket and shirt, holding you to him. And that was enough to make you stay.

About fifteen minutes later, he'd woken up.

He didn't flinch or yank himself away when he realized the position you were in. He'd blinked slowly at you, and you'd peered up at him just as quietly. His lips had parted and then closed again, as if he was going to say something but then thought better of it. Instead, he just kept staring at you, and you started to feel his hand on your back slowly and tenderly stroke the skin there. In return, you gently brushed your thumb against the bare skin of his waist. It was a moment that felt like it went on forever, both of you touching those small intimate parts of each other without saying so much as one word.

You felt butterflies in your belly when the hint of a smile twitched at his mouth, and you smiled back, sleepy and soft. You never wanted to leave this small piece of existence. You just wanted him to keep looking at you like that, his gaze holding yours with an expression you could only describe as contentedness. You'd never seen him look so relaxed; the dark circles had faded and even the lines on his face had receded into his skin. He looked younger, healthier, like all the bad things that had happened to him had vanished in one good sleep.

“Uggghhhh,” Ellie moaned a few meters away, and both your heads snapped in her direction. She was sitting up in her sleeping bag, back facing you. You could see her arms stretching above her head as she began her typical morning wake-up routine: stretch, groan, flop, repeat.

Without saying anything you'd both untangled yourselves simultaneously before she could see the sleeping arrangement you'd found yourselves in. The loss of warmth and familiarity was palpable as you quickly stood up and grabbed the rifle, walking over to the now completely burnt out fire. Joel silently folded up his blanket and your sleeping bag behind you, then muttered something about needing to look for more shit to burn.

That's how it started.

And you don't, under absolutely any circumstances, talk about it.

[alphajocklover]

So for Halloween, what about a story of a geeky "vampire" that goes around ducking the muscle out of alpha type jocks and bodybuilders?

The first thing you need to know about Vampires is that, yes, Vampires are real. I’ve only really talked about Alphas and Camous, but there are actually a lot of nonhuman creatures in the transformation community, and in the world itself. Some are way less human than others, and many are very hard to find, but they’re out there. 

The second thing you need to know about Vampires, is that they’re nothing like the ones you’ve seen in the movies. Vampires like that, ones who feasted on blood and burned in the daylight, used to exist, but over time they’ve evolved. They’ve evolved much faster than humans do, to the point where they’re completely unrecognizable. They don’t have super strength or speed, they don’t have to be invited into a building to enter, and they don’t drink blood. Today's Vampires feed on something else entirely. They feed on traits.

It’s hard to explain exactly how they do it. Traits, even the more measurable ones like physical traits and IQ, are fairly subjective. So how do you feed on something like that? It’s so hard to wrap my mind around that I’m not entirely sure how it's possible. What I do know is that they can do it easily. Prolonged skin to skin contact with a victim allows a vampire to drain a trait out of a person. They devour the potential that person had, consume that part of their victims' Identity. The trait doesn’t just go away though, itt transfers over to the Vampire. Vampires don’t just eat traits, they steal them. 

I know this sounds kind of scary. In a world of transformations, where we already have such little control over who we are, real life Vampires who can steal your traits can be a little threatening. They could take a physical trait, a mental one, a social one even. Any part of your identity is up to grabs for them, like you’re a walking buffet. But there are ways to stop Vampires, or at least ways to spot them before they get too close. 

I want to start by telling you what won’t work, because there are a shocking amount of inaccuracies out there. Holy Water is powerful, but it works on Demon and Devils, like my Uncle’s boyfriend Nick, not Vampires. A stake to the heart will kill a vampire, as will chopping off their head, but only because either of those would kill anyone. Don’t try it, you’ll go to jail. They’re slightly sensitive to garlic, but not enough anyone will really notice, and both running Water and sunlight don’t have any effect at all. You may be a little concerned because that's actually a lot of their weaknesses I've just struck out, but they still have a couple key ones that could help you. For one, they hate silver. It won’t truly harm them, but they get unnaturally uncomfortable around it, so it acts as a repellent. Some sort of leftover evolutionary trait from when they were like the creatures in the movies. Another is their age. One thing Vampires are constantly doing is stealing youth. Usually just a couple months here and there from different people, so no one notices any discrepancies. It’s why vampires never age in the myths and stories, because they don’t seem to age in real life. If someone has been young, or looked young, for a long time, that may be an indication they’re a vampire. They also do have fangs, but to most they appear to just be slightly larger canine teeth The best way to figure out if someone is a vampire though is their reflection.

Unlike the movies, Vampires do have reflections. They appear in mirrors, just… not as they appear in real life. The mirror, for whatever reason, will always reflect the Vampire’s original, natural form. It doesn’t matter how many years a vampire steals, or how much muscle they take from unsuspecting jocks, they will always look in a mirror and see themselves for how old and skinny they really are. This doesn’t apply to pictures, so a lot of Vampires just avoid mirrors and look at themselves through cameras, but if you suspect someone is a Vampire a mirror is the quickest and best way of sniffing them out.

Even if you’re covered in silver and carry a pocket mirror, don’t think you're automatically safe. Vampires are masters of deception, and are skilled at working their way into people's lives. Not only that, but they can steal traits from other mythical creatures, not just humans. An Alphas dominance, a Camous camouflage, a devils magical power. The best Vampires have an arsenal of powerful tricks from those they’ve taken advantage of before.

Vampires are, frankly, a very interesting and terrifying part of the world. But because of their ability to pick and choose their traits, they’re also incredibly attractive. Take this one, who just stole the muscles of his latest victim. The former jock hasn’t even noticed yet, and the Vamp is reveling in it. That’s not uncommon, Vamps like to play with their food

*This isn't technically a trick or treat ask, but it's halloween themed so I'm going to group it with those. I hope you guys love the idea of trait vampires as much as I do!*

[drdemonprince]

Hey Devon. This is related to community-building ask, as I feel it kinda hit something in me, and that is my frustration with my local queer "main community", who is mostly made up of people who can work/hang together (people in visual and performative arts, LGBT NGOs, event organisers and so on). It's so closed off and so circlejerk-y that it's demoralising. I've been trying to fit in ever since I started being an adult, almost ten years ago, but I have never made any progress on getting to any of its members. I have made queer friends who are wonderful people, and as you said in the previous ask, that is enough and makes a community of our own already. Nevertheless, it is frustrating for all of us to go to a queer space/show/event just to see that the crowd there is made up of people who know each other and talk to each other and make big groups, while we're just sitting there. It brings us down to know that for queer political events like protests (which are ofc organised by them), we have no one left to fall back on except us. It makes it weird when only one of us is able to go protest, they'd rather not go because it feels so lonely to be sitting around all those people who just know each other, who have been passing by us for so many times over the years, and yet never take interest in even saying "hi" or whatever. It makes us think that they're fucking disingenuous and their "community building" is a load of crap. And I don't really want to feel like that about my people, but look at me, after almost ten years in my city, I fucking do.

Hi there, thanks for your message.

Let me just say that while I understand where the perception comes from, the queer people who put on shows, run nonprofits, and go out clubbing are not "The main lgbtq community" in your city. They're just a bunch of cliquish, careerist, young, privileged people who market themselves as such because they've been convinced that's what the "queer community" is and because doing so helps them get butts in seats at events.

I've seen theater kids, drag performers, DJs, comedians, party promoters, and other various people of the attention-seeking arts (said neutrally) do this all my fucking life. They stake a claim on building "feminist spaces" and "anti-racist" spaces, too, among other things, and use those higher values to sell tickets to their shit too. It's a way to make every tragedy that strikes oppressed people into an advertisement for their burlesques and shit. Don't let the self-important myopia get to you.

The real queer community? In any given city? Well, it's not any one thing. There is no singular "queer community". What people often refer to as the LGBTQ community or the queer community is a demographic, not an actual community. That demographic is marketed to, including by fellow queer people, but that does not a community make.

A community consists of people who know one another, and have enduring bonds, and who have shown up for one another mutually in multiple ways. A lot of these hot cool stylish young queer people are actually merely colleagues of one another. When there's a conflict, or a cancellation, or a venue that closes, they will be tossed to the wind like so many dandelion seeds. Compare that to you and your friends, who can and do remain in contact as the seasons of life change.

It is demoralizing to see so many people who talk a big game about community fail to show up to do activist work that is meaningful to you. I can't deny feeling the same way. For many years, I dated an actor who was very plugged into the local scene, and while his theater company had a reputation for being progressive, trans inclusive, even left-leaning, almost nobody in that collective did anything for the broader 'community' at all. They were all too busy being overworked five nights a week for like a $200 per week stipend, writing plays in which they repeated leftist platitudes but did relatively little.

I'm being a big overly cynical here -- the theater did just put on a big pro Palestinian fundraiser -- but the fact is that running a club, a theater, a local education org, or a regular drag show is a business, and in the end the business always comes first. Even when the members of that business might not want it to. They're often extremely exploited and underpaid, which is part of what makes them so hungry to market themselves and maintain their careers. I have sympathy for it. But meaningful social connections and local impact it does not make.

All of which is to say: please try to remember that these people presenting themselves as the symbols of the local "community" are just a bunch of artistic kids who are trying to make a living doing what they love. They're naive, exploited, a little self-absorbed yes, but they're ultimately not that important. they just deal in a very self-important line of work.

There are SO many queer people all around you who never go to those fucking clubs and shows and aren't even on instagram. The "main" queer community, demographically, is more like the nerdy 40 year old gay couple that lives down the street from you who goes out to the movies once or twice a month and holds board game nights with their friends. The "main" queer community is volunteering at the zoo, going camping with their fraternity brothers that they met 20 years ago, working at the car dealership, planting tomatoes at the local community garden, taking care of elders with dementia, organizing weekly running groups.

You can find people like this -- total normies -- who will care about causes greater than themselves and want to contribute to community building efforts. Many of those people are already doing a ton to make community. It's just less sexy and less self-consciously queer than like, the dance parties. It's also more diverse, accessible, and capable of meeting people where they are at.

It does sound like you would like to meet more activist friends / politically engaged friends, and for that I'd say try looking at pro-Palestinian (for example) events and spaces and seeing who turns up there, checking out a local food not bombs chapter, looking up local mutual aid groups or buy nothing groups, getting involved in hyper-local initiatives, and putting what feelers you can on local forums and personals boards (like Lex, local Facebook groups, local Meetup groups, etc). You probably wont find a perfect space, but you will find worthwhile people scattered everywhere you look!

[brucewaynehater101]

Look maybe it’s just me but if I saw my little brother spiraling I wouldn’t just corner him in a graveyard once to talk about therapy then let him fuck off to go globe trotting

I mean... kind of I'm trying to be more canon accurate in my posts, so I apologize for correcting ya.

Cassie was the one to meet Tim in the graveyard. Dick met him at the city bounds.

Here's a funny pic of Dick as payment

Bruh. I'd either be so intimidated or so mad if Dick did this to me.

"We need to talk." After what Tim walked into of Damian wearing the Robin suit because Dick didn't talk to him until after the suit was made? I'd be mad (this is not an anti Dick. This is just how I would feel).

Anyways. Dick didn't let Tim go. Tim held him at staff point and guilt tripped the man into letting him go (not anti-Tim either).

Re-reading it again, I still think Tim is an unreliable narrator.

However, Tim is all like, "Hey, I know I sound nuts. I know how it looks, but I know I'm right." He provided examples of how he can, in fact, understand where Dick is coming from.

And then Dick is all like, "I know how you feel, but you need a therapist." Which... yes, but that's not the point. Tim is bringing up all this horrid shit in his life and acknowledging how he understands Dick's viewpoint (while also saying Dick is only there cause Cassie called him). Then Dick claims to understand Tim's perspective, but only from Dick's "Tim must be seeing things where isn't anything instead of grieving" viewpoint.

Basically, they aren't communicating with each other efficiently (they are also physically fighting each other while doing this too).

It's a mess. A hot mess.

Dick is trying:

But he's also just not listening to Tim. He's not giving Tim the benefit of the doubt. He's concerned af, but he's not listening or trusting Tim. He's just going at it from his own worried mentality that Tim's going down a conspiracy bender. I don't blame Dick for not communicating well (poor man is going through so much at this point [Damian, JLA, switching to Batman, etc]).

However, I also understand Tim's perspective. He doesn't trust Dick to actually listen to him. Dick wants to help Tim Dick's way and not what Tim believes he needs.

I personally get very very triggered if my boundaries are not met. If someone held on after I told them to let go? Yeah. Hands are being thrown. I also get triggered if people try to force me to do shit, don't listen to me, or try to do "what's best for me" when I've told them no. Real quick way to get cut off by me.

That's off topic, lmao.

Anyways, Dick kind of let Tim go, but that's because Tim forced him to. It wasn't because Dick didn't care, but he didn't care in the way Tim wanted him to (debatable if that's not how Tim needed either).

I'm curious. Are there any comics that cover that scene from Dick's POV? I'd appreciate it if anyone could let me know ^^

Also, I agree I would not do what Dick did here. On the other hand, my siblings and I have worked very very hard for the relationships we have. It's taken years of trial and error to get the boundaries and level of communication the way it is. We all agree to allow the others to make decisions for themselves and fight their own battles unless otherwise asked (I had a habit of trying to help and fix the situation for them when I was a teen. Now we just inform and offer help. Lots of acknowledgment for boundaries as well). If my siblings want to make dumb decisions, I let them. Just as they would for me. I might tell them I think that's dumb as hell, but it's their life.

If Tim was my sibling, I'd say something like, "I'm not sure I believe you, but I trust you. If this is what you need, if you think this is true, I'll support you. Would you like my direct assistance with this?"

If they say no, then I'll respond with, "Okay. I can handle Gotham as long as you keep me in the loop. If it's been 48 hours without contact, I will hunt you down. I love you."

Then we'd hug goodbye.

On the other other hand, there's not this age gap between us. Dick is 7 or so years older than Tim, and Tim is a teen. Dick may feel it's his responsibility to look after Tim and might be hitting the road bumps I did with my siblings (of giving them the respect and trust to handle their own issues as well as know what they need).

So, the situation is a hot mess :)

[caslyra]

Why Wolfstar makes sense canonically

Call me delusional but welcome to my TED talk

Most of this has been said repeatedly by others over the years. I don't mean to steal anybody's credit, so if you feel like I have, please reach out.

This is me 'defending' Wolfstar, I'm not hating on another ship here and I won't engage in a discussion about which ship makes more sense. I'm just trying to elaborate why I can 'see' Wolfstar - even from a canon perspective.

I'm trying (and hoping to succeed) to be respectful and I'm not attacking a specific person here. This is just a general post with all my thoughts on the matter and all the arguments I've heard against it.

Brace yourself because this is going to get really really long, and there'll be a lot of quotes from the original source material.

The original source material

I feel that many people who claim the ship doesn't make sense fail to see that we're in this fandom because it did make sense to us after reading the books. The fandom exists, because many people saw it. Because it's possible to see it. It's not the other way around.

The thing with Wolfstar is, that it's all in the 'show not tell' which I suppose makes it 'easy' to overlook. Obviously it is, with the author not intending the ship - I'm not saying wolfstar is canon, but it makes a lot of sense with what we have in canon.

Their nonverbal communication

They have a lot of nonverbal communication going on, which shows a great level of understanding for one another. But they're not only able to read one another, they're actively (and both of them) communicating via eye contact - a lot. They're searching for the other person's eyes and are passing along 'thoughts', are reaching silent understandings just like that. That hints at a great emotional connection.

Let's do that 'chronologically':

It doesn't take more than a single look from Sirius to convince Remus that he is innocent. At this point Remus doesn't know shit about what really happened. He admits so himself later on, he keeps asking Sirius questions later on. And yet again he's so ready to believe Sirius,

Professor Lupin came hurtling into the room, his face bloodless, his wand raised an ready. His eyes flickered over Ron, lying on the floor, over Hermione, cowering next to the door, to Harry, standing there with his wand covering Black, and then to Black himself, crumpled and bleeding at Harry's feet. 'Expelliarmus!' Lupin shouted. [...] Lupin caught them all defty then moved into the room, staring at Black, who still had Crookshanks lying protectively across his chest. [...] Then Lupin spoke, in an odd voice, a voice that shook with some suppressed emotion. 'Where is he, Sirius?' [...] Black's face was quite expressionless. For a few seconds, he didn't move at all. Then, very slowly, he raised his empty hand, and pointed straight at Ron. 'But then… Lupin muttered, staring at Black so intently it seemed he was trying to read his mind. “'Why hasn’t he shown himself before now? Unless...-' Lupin's eyes suddenly widened, as though he was seeing something beyond Black, something none of the rest could see, '-unless he was the one… unless you switched… without telling me?' Very slowly, his sunken gaze never leaving Lupin’s face, Black nodded.  [...] Lupin lowered his wand. Next moment, he had walked to Black's side, seized his hand, pulled hm to his feet so that Crookshanks fell to the floor, and embraced Black like a brother.

And then he says, still without having received any explanation, just like that,

'I haven't been Sirius' friend for twelve years, but I am now... let me explain...'

They are so in synch with their actions without even having to talk about it; they're forming a united front (I'm getting to that later on), they're again reaching a silent understanding just by looking at one another (again),

Both Black and Lupin strode forwards, seized Pettigrew's shoulders and threw him backwards onto the floor. [...] Black and Lupin stood shoulder to shoulder, wands raised. [...] Black and Lupin both looked staggered. [...] Black and Lupin were looking at each other. Then, with one movement, they lowered their wands.

I think it's also important to note that they do not just look, but look to check for each other's opinion on the matter. Harry asks them not to murder Peter and of course they listen to him, but they first look at each other as if checking to be on the same page. So - they've just reunited after over twelve years and immediately take the other person into consideration (I'm getting to that later on).

Then in OotP there's the famous fourty line stare where Remus is just intently staring at Sirius while he and Molly are arguing, as opposed to the others who are watching the conversation (who does that?),

'Lupin, who had been about to take a sip of whine, lowered his goblet slowly, looking wary' [...] Lupin's eyes were fixed on Sirius. [fourty lines of back and forth between Molly and Sirius] 'Personally,' said Lupin quietly, looking away from Sirius at last.

And it's not just Remus doing it. It's mutual. They act like a unit (again, getting to that). They care for each other's opinion and they do know each other so well that a single fleeting look is enough for them to check in with the other,

He [Harry] thought he saw Sirius and Lupin exchange the most fleeting of looks before Sirius answered [...]

And again when Harry contacts them via floo to discuss Snape's Worst Memory, they do it again,

They exchanged a look of great surprise [...] Lupin glanced sideways at Sirius, then said, [...]

They communicate via touch, too:

Black's wand arm rose, but Lupin seized him around the wrist, gave him a warning look, then turned again to Pettigrew, his voice light and casual [...]

So - Remus does not only convince headstrong Sirius to back down nonverbally just by looking and touching him, no I think it's also important to note that Remus, who isn't a 'touch person' (he's awkward when comforting Molly, he (as far as I recall) never hugs Harry, always just shakes hands), doesn't even seem to think twice about touching Sirius. No, he immediately pulls him into a hug, then is restraining him physically when he tries to launch at Scabbers, then continues to communicate via looks and touch. After twelve years of separation he's immediately comfortable enough to initiate it.

They're super in synch - also with how they say things

It carries through the whole of OotP, really. Sirius says something just for Remus to say something immediately afterwards or the other way around. When they're together in a scene, the vibe is always them carrying the conversation together, one adding to the other's thoughts.

It already starts in PoA,

'They didn't say what they thought they saw !' said Black savagely [...]. 'Everyone thought Sirius killed Peter,', said Lupin nodding.

But in OotP it's taken to whole new levels. It's too much to put here, but in that conversation where they tell Harry about the Order it's basically:

said Sirius / said Lupin /said Sirius /said Lupin... throughout the whole scene. One of them says something and the other one adds. And again. And again. And again.

And it happens again (though not to that extent) before Harry's Ministry hearing. In the Boggart scene. And then again when they discuss 'Snape's Worst Memory'.

They're also portrayed as being close to one another (distance-wise) repeatedly throughout OotP.

Like when Remus is there chances are Sirius isn't far. That doesn't have to mean anything of course but the frequency puts out a certain vibe to me,

'I said - shut - UP!', roared the man [Sirius] and with a stupendous effort he and Lupin managed to force the curtains closed again

Honestly, I think it's kind of funny that even when there're a number of people the two of them are always mentioned right after one another. Before Harry's ministry hearing, at Ron and Hermione's party, when Mrs Weasley is battling the Boggart, in the Department of Mysteries,

He pushed it open and saw Mr and Mrs Weasley, Sirius, Lupin and Tonks sitting at [...] Sirius, Lupin, Tonks and Kingsley Shacklebolt were already there Lupin had come running into the room, closely followed by Sirius [...] [...] and five more people sprinted into the room: Sirius, Lupin, Moody, Tonks and Kingsley.

And then when Harry floos to see Sirius after he has seen 'Snape's Worst Memory' Remus is there again-, casually sitting at the table and reading and Harry mistakes him for Sirius even (because he's looking so at home?). But Remus immediately knows where to fetch Sirius and comes back with him quickly after. That just has such a domestic vibe to me.

[...] long wooden table where a man sat poring over a piece of parchment. [...] 'Sirius'? [...] It was not Sirius, it was Lupin. [...] 'I'll call him,' said Lupin. [...] And Harry saw Lupin hurry out of the kitchen. [...] Lupin returned with Sirius at his heels moments after.

Remus and his relationship to his friends

Remus mentions Sirius first when he speaks about his friends, although in every other occasion it's always James who's mentioned first. He always says 'James and Sirius'/'your father and Sirius'; it's always James first, Sirius second, but when he's talking about him finding friends for the first time in his life, it's suddenly Sirius first,

'I had friends, three great friend. Sirius Black... Peter Pettigrew... and, of course, your father, Harry - James Potter.'

I don't think that necessarily means anything though, but I felt like adding it just for the sake of it... (I know the author stated James supported Remus after Hogwarts, not Sirius, implying they were (always) closer, but - and that's just my general personal approach - I don't care much for what she said in any Interviews/on pottermore/wizardingworld.com or whatever. She's contradicting herself so often there (see below). To me it's always books first and the books show that Remus and Sirius are close as adults whereas we don't have much information about Remus/James).

Then Remus is very obviously operating on double standards when it comes to Sirius as opposed to Peter. In his conversation with Harry it's insinuated that he doesn't want Sirius, who he believes to have betrayed Lily and James and killed Peter and twelve others, to receive the Dementor's kiss.

'He deserves it,' he [Harry] said suddenly. 'You think so?' said Lupin lightly. 'Do you really think anyone deserves that?

Yet later when he learns the truth he has no qualms whatsoever about killing Peter. He doesn't stop Sirius, he doesn't hesitate, he's joinng in. Why's this so different suddenly? Selling away your friends lives and framing your other friend (Peter) isn't worse than selling away your friends' lives and killing your other friend (allegedly Sirius), is it? So if their 'alleged' crimes are comparable, why is Remus acting different about Peter's than he is about Sirius's?

'Shall we kill him together?' 'Yes, I think s,' said Lupin grimly.

It's not about him thinking the Dementor's kiss was worse than death either. Because he as no qualms to bring Peter to the Dementors when Harry stops them from murdering him. So... why the double standards again?

Sirius/Remus also so do 'relationship behaviour'. I mean the whole nonverbal communication already, but also,

'Sirius, sit down.' [...] Sirius sank slowly back into his chair, his face white.

Remus gets Sirius even after over twelve years of being separated. Sirius is impatient in PoA, because he - finally - wants to take revenge on Peter. Remus not only sees that but tries to stop him. To me it reads as if he knows that Harry's opinion is important to Sirius, will be, once he sees clearly again and that he doesn't want him to destroy his chances with Harry by acting too impulsive. Because his intervention isn't rooted in his concern for Peter's life obviously, because he's ready to kill Peter once they explained everything,

'[...] I think Molly's right, Sirius. We've said enough.' Sirius half-shrugged, but did not argue. 'I'm coming up there to have a word with Snape!' said Sirius forcefully, and he actually made to stand up, but Lupin wrenched him back down again. 'If anyone's going to tell Snape it will be me!' he said firmly

Sirius doesn't exactly react well to being emasculated (and that's an understatement). He doesn't react well when Harry doesn't want him to come ro Hogsmeade as Padfoot - he lashes out and answers with a low-blow ('You're less like your father than I thought '). And yes, that's in OotP where his mental health isn't the best. But the rest of those scenes also happen in OotP. And he lets Remus call the shots, lets Remus stop him, in front of all the others. Remus is giving him a direct order like he is a f**** dog (not going deeper into this because I *hate* all those pup/pet play fics) and Sirius does not only not fight back, he complies. I'm not saying he respects/likes Remus more than Harry, I'm just using this example to point out that, considering Sirius's character it's a really big deal.

Remus understands Sirius and is looking out for him

'Sirius, NO!, Lupin yelled, launching himself forwards and dragging Black away from Ron again. “WAIT! You can’t do it just like that - they need to understand - we’ve got to explain -“ 'We can explain afterwards!,' snarled Black, trying to throw Lupin off, one hand still clawing the air as the tried to reach Scabbers, who was squealing like a piglet, scratching Ron’s face and neck as he tried to escape.  'They’ve - got - a - right - to - know - everything!,' Lupin panted, still trying to restrain Black. 'Ron’s kept him as a pet! There are parts of it even I don’t understand! And Harry - you owe Harry the truth'

And then again he's stepping in when Sirius is not doing himself any favor with Harry (again),

'And why did he fake this death?' he [Harry] said furiously. 'Because he knew you were about to kill him like you killed my parents.' 'No', said Lupin. 'Harry-' 'And now you've come to finish him off!' 'Yes, I have,' said Black, with an evil look at Scabbers. 'Then I should've let Snape take you!' Harry shouted. 'Harry,', said Lupin hurriedly, 'don't you see? All this time we've thought Sirius betrayed your parents, and Peter tracked him down - but it was the other way around, don't you see? Peter betrayed your mother and father - Sirius tracked Peter down-'

And then Remus is stepping in - again - when it's getting too much for Sirius,

'Harry... I as good as killed them', he [Sirius] croaked. 'I persuaded Lily and James to change to Peter at the last moment [...] I was scared. I set out for your parents' house straight away. And when I saw their house, destroyed and their bodies - I realized what Peter must'v done. What I'd done.' His voice broke. He turned away 'Enough of this,' said Lupin, and there was a steely note in his voice Harry had never heard before.

And in this scene in OotP he's also looking out for him,

'I'm coming up there to have a word with Snape!' said Sirius forcefully, and he actually made to stand up, but Lupin wrenched him back down again. 'If anyone's going to tell Snape it will be me!' he said firmly

They're forming a united front - not once, but it's a recurring motive.

Both are ready to handle the whole Peter thing together. They haven't seen each other for over twelve years, they didn't part on good terms and still they're immediately including the other. Even Sirius who's (in this situation) either failing to see how his behavior isn't doing him any good with building a relationshio with Harry or is incapable of stopping himself, is including Remus,

'Ready, Sirius' said Lupin [...] 'Together?' he [Sirius] said quietly. ‘I think so', said Lupin [...]

And then again, they're ready to kill him together, too,

'Of course,' said Black, and the ghost of a grin flitted across his gaunt face. He, too, began rolling up his sleeves. 'Shall we kill him together?' 'Yes, I think so,' said Lupin grimly.

And also non-verbally they're an united front (see above),

Both Black and Lupin strode forwards, seized Pettigrew's shoulders and threw him backwards onto the floor. [...] Black and Lupin stood shoulder to shoulder, wands raised. [...] Black and Lupin both looked staggered. [...] Black and Lupin were looking at each other. Then, with one movement, they lowered their wands.

Then they're portrayed as 'shoulder to shoulder' (figuratively speaking) in other situations as well. Remus is taking Sirius's side in the argument with Molly although he has no business doing so, although he usually prefers to stay in the background. He's usually keeping quiet, usually not speaking up - Molly even thinks she's getting an ally when he joins the conversation,

'Personally,' said Lupin quietly, looking away from Sirius at last, as Mrs Weasley turned quickly to him, hopeful that finally she was about to get an ally. 'I think it better that Harry gets the facts - not all the facts, Molly, but the general picture - from us, rather than a garbled version from ... others.' [...] 'Molly you're not the only person at this table who cares about Harry', said Lupin sharply.

Remus is always taking Sirius's Side - he keeps making excuses for James and Sirius's behavior at Hogwarts, he keeps playing it down - even as an adult. He's damn biased, he doesn't move an inch - as long as they're in public at least,

'Sirius thought it would be - er - amusing, to tell Snape all he had to do was prod the knot on the tree-trunk with a long stick and he’d be able to get in after me.'

'a schoolboy grudge' [Remus to Snape]

Lupin looked sideways at Sirius, then aid, 'Look, Harry, what you've got to understand is that your father and Sirius were the best in the school at whatever they did - everyone thought they were the height of cool - if they sometimes got a bit carried away-' 'If we were sometimes arrogant little berks, you mean',, said Sirius. Lupin smiled.

And I think it's important to point out that Remus does this even though it's not his real stance on the matter,

'[...] it would be - er - amusing, to tell Snape [...]' 'We were in the same year, you know and we - er - didn’t like each other very much. He especially disliked James. Jealous, I think, of James’s talent on the Quidditch pitch…'

The 'er' and 'I think' is a speech pattern of his that indicates he's not being completely honest/doesn't truly believe what he says. ('So he - er - accidentally let slip that I am a werewolf this morning at breakfast.' / 'Er - perhaps it will be best if we don’t revive him until we’re safely back in the castle.). He doesn't truly think they were as harmless as he's portraying it ('Did I ever have the guts to tell you I thought you were ought of order?').

So - united front on the outside, no matter what. But it's insinuated that behind closed doors Remus is taking a different stance. He's blaming himself for not stepping in with the whole Snape thing, because that's just who he is - blaming himself for everything (sometimes rightfully so, sometimes not) While I do think he didn't say anything outwardly, there must have been something that made it clear to the others that Remus didn't approve of their behavior,

'Of course he was a bit of an idiot,' said Sirius bracingly, 'we were all idiots! Well - Moony not so much', he said fairly, looking at Lupin.  But Remus shook his head. 'Did I ever tell you to lay off Snape?”' he said. 'Did I ever have the guts to tell you I thought you were out of order?'  'Yeah, well', said Sirius, 'you made us feel ashamed of ourselves sometimes… that was something….' 

Remus is suddenly living at Grimmauld Place

So at the end of GoF Remus obviously has his own place (or is living with his father again, although he didn't want to because he didn't want to disturb his quiet life according to the author? But then again I don't care what she said on Pottermore).

'Sirius, I need you to set off at once. You are to alert Remus Lupin, Arabella Figg, Mundungus Fletcher —the old crowd. Lie low at Lupin's for a while, I will contact you there.'

So that's at the end of June. And then at the beginning of August when Harry arrives in London, just six weeks later, he's living at Grimmauldplace already, and not only at Grimmauld Place, he's living with Sirius

Lupin, who was staying at the house with Sirius but who left it for long periods to do mysterious work for the Order [...]

And then rhey give away joint Christmas presents,

Sirius and Lupin had given Harry a set of excellent books entitled Practical Defensive Magic and its Use Against the Dark Arts, which had superb, moving colour illustrations of all the counter-jinxes and hexes it described.

They act differently with / because of one another

Sometimes they even defy their core character traits.

Remus's primal drive in everything he does is to be liked/fit in/be seen as good by others (and not as the monster he sees himself as deep down). He's even sometimes manipulative and hypocritical because of it. For example he doesn't tell Dumbledore about Sirius's animagus form because of it (or at least it's part of the reason, or he believes it to be). But when Snape enters the Shrieking Shack he doesn't care about himself getting into trouble for - allegedly - helping a supposed mass murderer break into the castle and everything. Even though he stated before that he didn't tell Dumbledore about Sirius for fear of losing his respect, all he cares about suddenly is Sirius's safety:

'Severus, you're making a mistake,' said Lupin urgently. 'You haven't heard everything - I can explain - Sirius is not here to kill Harry-' [...] 'You fool,' said Lupin softly. 'Is a schoolboy grudge worth putting an innocent man back inside Azkaban.'

Also Remus is able to get through to Sirius even in a state of utmost agitation. Sirius is trying to murder Peter and Remus stops him and Sirius listens, even though his goal is finally in reach. Although, up to that point, he didn't exactly act very sensible (slashing the Fat Lady, breaking into Harry's dorm with a knife),

'All right then,' Black said, without taking his eyes off the rat. “Tell them whatever you like. But make it quick, Remus. I want to commit the murder I was imprisoned for…' 

And he continues to listen to Remus, Remus continues to be able to get through to him even when he's getting emotional. And Remus, who's always trying to appear mild (for fear of being perceived as aggressive which he can not afford because of the werewolf-thing), who even spoke quietly before in that very same conversation, is losing parts of his composure when Sirius is attacked,

“Molly, you’re not the only person at this table who cares about Harry”, said Lupin sharply. “Sirius, sit down.” Molly’s lower lip was trembling. Sirius sank slowly back into his chair, his face white.

Remus is letting loose around him (and the other marauders). He quips,

'Did you like question ten, Moony?' asked Sirius  as they emerged to the Entrance Hall. 'Loved it,' said Lupin briskly. 'Give five signs that identify the werewolf. Excellent question.'  'D’you think you managed to get all the signs?,' said James in tones of mock concern.  'Think I did,' said Lupin seriously, as they joined the crowd thronging around the front doors eager to get out into the sunlit grounds. 'One: he’s sitting on my chair. Two: he’s wearing my clothes. Three: his name’s Remus Lupin.'

'Well, as everyone thinks I’m a mad mass-murderer and the Ministry’s put a ten thousand Galleon price on my head, I can hardly stroll up the street and start handing out leaflets, can I?,' said Sirius restlessly.  'And I’m not a very popular dinner guest with most of the community,' said Lupin. “It’s an occupational hazard of being a werewolf.' 

[As @remusawoooo put it: let's form a comedy duo <3]

And Remus is obviously very comfortable with Sirius. He's always restraining himself, Harry narrates his way of speaking as 'mild' or 'quiet' so many times, but apparently he's different when he's alone with Sirius. That hints at a great level of trust. He doesn't bother to keep up his act around him, because he doesn't worry about being perceived as mild with him and just speaks his truth ( e.g. about Umbridge). He can just be and oh boy, thinking about Remus's character that has to be the greatest fucking deal ever.

'I know she's a nasty piece of work, though - you should hear Remus talk about her.'

And then Remus, who is so good at appearing restrained, is losing his composure when Sirius dies,

'He can’t come back, Harry,' said Lupin, his voice breaking as he struggled to contain Harry. 'He can’t come back, because he’s d-' [...] Lupin's face was pale. [...] Lupin turned away from the archway as he spoke. It sounded as if every word were causing him pain.

In this moment Harry himself is in huge (emotional) pain, but he still notices - must've been rather obvious, then?

Edit (because it's been pointed out to me): and then Remus goes into self-destruction mode after Sirius's death, signing off for dangerous Order missions, obviously falling into some sort of depression..

Their mutual respect for one another

So, I've read how Sirius wouldn't/couldn't possibly respect Remus / see him as an equal. How they wouldn't fully 'trust' one another. No matter if you 'see' Wolfstar or not, that is just plain wrong.

Sirius respected Remus already as a teenager. He (and James, too), cared for his opinion, otherwise they wouldn't have been affected by whatever he thought about their bullying. But they were ('you made us feel ashamed of ourselves sometimes').

The whole Sirius thinking Remus was the spy thing also shows that he respected him. He saw him as capable - not just as capable of betraying his friends, but also as a capable person in general, a person with an own agenda, not just a copy of him or James. He didn't see Peter like that.

Sirius lets Remus take the lead in the scene in the Shrieking Shack even though the whole taking revenge on Peter/avenging James (James!) thing is most important to him. He does not only let himself be swayed by Remus and lowers his wand instead of killing Peter right after they forced him to transform, he also let's Remus lead the conversation. To me that shows a huge level of trust. He only joins in after Peter accused him of having learned tricks from Voldemort. But before that it's just Remus talking for some paragraphs?

And Sirius listens to Remus not only in that scene, but also in OotP. First he sits down again in his argument with Molly simply because Remus told him so. Then he's waiting for Remus to come back to the room before he even starts telling Harry about the Order business.

Lupin hurried of to the portrait to restore calm. It was only after he had returned, closing the kitchen door behind him and taking hs seat at the table again, that Sirius spoke.

Then he just accepts when Remus says they've said enough without arguing,

'[...] I think Molly's right, Sirius. We've said enough.' Sirius half-shrugged, but did not argue.

Headstrong Sirius, who's even challenging Dumbledore's orders by insisting on telling Harry stuff, who's challenging Dumbledore's orders by accompanying Harry to King's Cross (as Padfoot), who's willing to challenge Dumbledore's orders when he suggests meeting up at Hogsmeade (as Padfoot). But Remus says we've said enough and he is just like 'okay'. Remus says 'sit down' and despite him having been attacked personally he just does. He clearly respects him a great deal.

On a more subtle note (and maybe I'm reading too much into the source material here, but it makes sense to me)... The Prank was not a big deal in canon. At least not initially. But adult Remus tells us in PoA,

'That was still really dangerous! Running around in the dark with a werewolf! What if you’d given the others the slip and bitten somebody?' [Hermione] 'A thought that still haunts me,' said Remus heavily. 'And there were near misses, many of them. We laughed about them afterwards. We were young, thoughtless - carried away with our own cleverness. I sometimes felt guilty about betraying Dumbledore’s trust, of course… he had admitted me to Hogwarts when no other headmaster would have done so and he had no idea I was breaking the riles he had set down for my own and others’ safety.[...]'

And he's still making excuses for the prank in this scene and Sirius still says how, 'it served him [Snape] right'

But then in OotP when they discuss Snape's Worst Memory with Harry, Sirius obviously has some introspection and to me it easily reads as if they had talked about that behavior - as adults,

'I'm not proud of it,' said Sirius quickly. Lupin looked sideways at Sirius, then said, 'Look, Harry [...] if they sometimes got a bit carried away-' 'If we were sometimes arrogant little berks you mean,' said Sirius. Lupin smiled.

He cuts him off and to me it reads like, 'okay Remus, you can stop making excuses for me'. Maybe adult Sirius came to that conclusion himself with being out of Azkaban for almost two years at this point. He's certainly emotionally intelligent enough to do so. But then again, he's incredibly blind when it comes to Snape in general, even as an adult, so I'm not so sure about that.

Other things

Sirius was lounging in his chair at his ease, tilting it back on two legs. He was very good-looking, his dark hair fell into his eyes with a sort of casual elegance neither James's nor Harry's could ever have achieved, and a girl sitting behind him was eyeing him hopefully, though he didn't seem to have noticed. And two seats along from this girl - Harry's stomach gave another pleasurable squirm - was Remus lupin.

I personally think that's over-interpreting the source material, but I've read someone pointing out how it reads like,

'Hormonal male teen doesn't care for the attention of a teenage girl, why could that be, why could that be... oh, here's why: ...'

(let's not forget about asexual people though)

The Original source material getting ridiculously obvious without the author intending so

Okay, so I personally don't set great store by this, but I think it's funny:

Their names being the biggest cliche ever

Remus 'Moony' Lupin and Sirius ' the Dog Star' Black. Moon and stars, come on. All this from an author who's taking the name game to ridiculous levels. (I mean Remus Lupin = Wolf-son Wolf?, even Lyall = Wolf. And Sirius = the Dog Star Black. And he's a black dog.... really?)

Nearly matching Patroni

They have (supposedly) nearly matching Patroni. Remus's is a wolf while Sirius's is supposedly a dog because it usually aligns with the caster's Animagus form. Anyhow, it's supposed to reflect the caster's personality. Matching Patroni are a huge deal in HP. And a wolf and a dog are pretty damn close, meaning that even if they're not 'matching' technically speaking, they (the caster) are pretty damn close character-wise?

But what about...?

All your 'proof' doesn't necessarily mean they're a thing romantically

No, that's right. I'm not saying wolfstar is canon, I'm just saying it makes sense, even from a canon perspective. Obviously the author didn't intend them to be canon. My point is that it's no stretch to read them as being a thing (whatever that means - being together or just having some sort of unresolved feelings) even in canon.

I'm aware that the things I pointed out don't mean much if you look at them individually. I agree. Like, of course joint presents don't have to mean anything, maybe Sirius is just being 'nice', is including Remus. But it's the sum that give off that vibe—at least to me.

But hey, I'm not trying to convince anyone of Wolfstar; I'm just trying to elaborate. I'd be happy if we could all agree that, no matter any romantic feelings, they were very close friends. Because that, as I hope to have pointed out, is definitely canon.

They don't make sense because of the prank

First - they don't have necessarily to have been a thing back in fifth year already.

Second - the prank was no big deal in canon. I've already ranted about this in another post, so I won't repeat myself here. But canonically Remus didn't make a scene. Like it or not, think it's in character or not, but he didn't.

But Sirius disregards Remus's feelings in 'Snape's worst memory

So this is, what we're talking about, right,

'I’m bored,' said Sirius. 'Wish it was full moon.'  'You might', said Lupin darkly.

Again, they don't have to have necessarily been a thing back in fifth year already. Most of the 'show' we get from the original source material is from when they're adults.

And: Sirius being flippant is just how he is, it's not unique to his relationship with Remus, it doesn't mean he disrespects Remus or anything. He's sarcastic with James in that very same scene, too, even though James had just been insulted and turned down by Lily in front of numerous bystanders (maybe not the nicest thing to do?).

'Bad luck, Prongs' [...] 'Reading between the lines I'd say she thinks you're a bit conceited, mate.'

We - as a fandom - are turning the full moons into a much bigger deal than they were - or at least than Remus wanted them to be. ('And they didn’t desert me at all. Instead they did something for me that would make my transformations not only bearable, but the best times of my life. They became Animagi.')

But Sirius thought Remus was the spy - they couldn't have been close in 1981

'Being close' is a matter of definition, like, I can be super hurt and disgusted by someone's behaviour and still the person can mean a lot to me. So I think it's possible that they cared for each other even though Sirius suspected Remus to be the spy. But in the sense of them 'emotionally getting' each other I definitely agree. But - even if they weren't close in 1981 - what does that say about their teenage years? Or about them past PoA? Right, nothing.

But Lily's letter didn't even mention Remus and Remus isn't standing with them in the Order photograph

See above.

But you don't just move past something like mistrusting each other so deeply

Maybe you don't. They did. Because they did, no matter what you think about wolfstar. Btw, Sirius is asking for Remus's forgiveness, so there's that for the whole 'he can't forgive him for not having him gotten out of Azkaban'-thing.

'Forgive me Remus', said Black. 'Not at all, Padfoot, old friend,' said Lupin, who was now rolling up his sleeves. 'And will you, in turn, forgive me for believing you were the spy?' 'Of course,' said Black, and the ghost of a grin flitted across his gaunt face.

The ghost of a grin. Yes, Sirius is obviously very resentful.

And even if they had a chat about it during 'Lie low at Lupin's', even if they worked through some old baggage - by the beginning of OotP they're definitely super casual with one another.

Their whole dynamic is super toxic... The mistrust and everything. That's not a healthy basis for anything

Unfortunately, being toxic doesn't stop people from being in a relationship. But I don't think they are toxic, not necessarily. While I agree that they definitely have issues (I don't see either of them being good at healthy communication; how were they supposed to learn? Besides, both of them have problematic character traits), I do think, in general, they treat each other with respect. And there's no evidence whatsoever for either of them holding grudges about the spy situation. I know people want Sirius to be resentful because they feel Remus deserves it for letting him 'rot' in Azkaban, but there's no evidence for that.

But Sirius didn't seek out Remus's help in PoA when he was after Peter

That would have been risky, wouldn't it? And I don't think there was much on Sirius's mind except for the revenge thing. Sirius is usually quite calm and way less dramatic than fanon makes him out to be. But he loses it completely with the whole Peter affair. I mean slashing the Fat Lady and acting like the mad mass murderer everyone thinks him to be by breaking into Harry's dorm with that knife? (Stupid and also super risky with no wand)

But Sirius isn't with Remus in GoF but rather lives in a cave

Yes, to be close to Harry. Because Harry is his top priority (see below). So what does that prove? He's rather with Harry than with Remus. Agreed. But it's not like he was roaming the UK instead of being at Remus's before. He was somewhere south, far far away to evade seizure. He only comes back because of Harry.

It's understandable, because he feels responsible for Harry (and perhaps guilty because he blames himself for James's death). He doesn't feel responsible for Remus, who is a grown man - and Remus's safety isn't at stake. His own safety is more important than just being with his friend/lover/whatever, but it's not more important than Harry's safety. I think that's a pretty healthy dynamic actually.

Harry doesn't notice so they can't be a thing

Harry is great at noticing some things. Others, not so much. For example Harry thinks Tonks is in love with Sirius, so so much for Harry's perceptiveness. The books being from Harry's perspective is part of the point of Wolfstar making sense.

What about James?

What about James? Is this a contest? No one says Sirius and James weren't best friends (I won't step into the shipping James/Sirius debate here, I respect the ship eve though it isn't my cup of tea). We all agree they were super close. We all agree they were inseparable and that Sirius was devastated about James's death. Following this line of argument Jily makes no sense either (as @myheadsgonenumb pointed out). People are capable of loving their partners (or loving someone unrequitedly or loving someone without realizing) and having a close best friend at the same time.

Plus, who's to say he wouldn't have been devastated if Remus had died, too? People have the ability to care deeply about more than one person (and again, it's not a contest)

BANG! Thin, snake-like cords burst from the end of Snape’s wand and twisted themselves around Lupin’s mouth, wrists and ankles; he overbalanced and fell to the floor, unable to move. With a roar of rage, Sirius started toward Snape, [...]

Yes, Sirius is obviously completely indifferent to what happens to Remus.

BUT it does annoy me that a lot of wolfstar fics are erasing James / are turning Remus into everything James was for Sirius. Like James was just a side character for.Sirius. That's unrealistic. Sirius needs James, Wolfstar or not.

But it's stated Sirius and James only cared for each others opinions, no one else's

Is it really? I've basically already tackled that one above, but, while I agree that they were most important to one another, Sirius himself says to Remus, 'Yeah, well. You made us feel ashamed of ourselves sometimes… that was something….'

What about Harry - the books state he was the most important person to Sirius (and vice versa), not Remus?

Agreed and again - is it a contest? That line of reasoning would mean that parents aren't capable of loving their partners because they have children.

But Sirius wouldn't be with someone who let Harry suffer at his aunt's / who allegedly endangered Harry's life in PoA by withholding information from Dumbledore...

He wouldn't? The backbone of this argument is that Sirius would not trust/forgive someone who did these things. And wether you ship wolfstar or not, that is just canonically wrong. They were canonically close in OotP (see quotes above) - if you're negating this you're being delusional.

I don't think I have to deep-dive into Sirius's character here because it's obvious that he didn't hold a grudge against Remus.

Remus is too much of a loser for Sirius to want him as a partner

I feel like that's pretty much the same argument, so it get's pretty much the same answer: He wouldn't?

The backbone of this argument is that Sirius was too cool for Remus, had not enough respect for Remus, which is, canonically simply not true. No matter if you like it, no matter if you think it makes sense considering Sirius's character, it's fact that adult Sirius respected him very much. He listened to him, he cared for his opinion, he backed down because of him, he allowed Remus to take the lead. He doesn't treat him as inferior. Not a single time.

But Sirius is so much better than Remus, he has a better moral code, he's a better man, a better [insert statement here]...

Again - it doesn't matter much if you think so, or what I think about it. But Sirius didn't think so. Not a single proof he's resentful towards Remus, not a single proof he thinks Remus is inferior to him, not a single proof he doesn't respect him. The opposite actually.

But Remus is such a pushover, it just doesn't fit personality-wise. Sirius needs someone strong

Is Remus really? Because he isn't as an adult. At least not as long as he isn't concerned personally.

I see Remus as someone with deep-rooted self-worth issues, hence he's struggling to stand up for himself (his worst decisions are all linked to his poor self-esteem). But he has no problem in PoA to stand up to Snape (in the scene in the Shack), he has no problem to stand up to Sirius (multiple times in that scene), he has no problem to take the lead in the conversation with Peter. He has no problem to stand up to Molly when she's attacking Sirius and he tells Sirius to leave it to him to deal with Snape when they learn that Snape stopped giving Harry Occlumency lessons (and wrenches him down again). He's not as gentle/soft/pushover-y as people sometimes think.

Besides, we don't know much about how he really was as a teenager. He himself says that he didn't call them out for the whole Snape thing, but his self-perception isn't the best and he tends to blame himself for everything, so we don't really know how true that really is... As mentioned before, Sirius himself says,

''Yeah, well. You made us feel ashamed of ourselves sometimes… that was something….'

And also (before that),

'Of course he was a bit of an idiot,' said Sirius bracingly, 'we were all idiots! Well - Moony not so much.'

But Sirius is depressive in OotP - the long hair, the drinking, his moods...

Yes, of course, he's trapped in his childhood home without being able to do anything, he's feeling useless. No wonder he's depressed. Having a relationship doesn't save you from depression (although having no fulfilling platonic/romantic relationships at all can be a major factor for getting depressed).

If one or two pillars have crumbled that is possibly already enough for the roof to tumble down - even though the third is still standing (surprise!).

[On a personal note: I know what I'm talking about (although not everyone's experience is the same obvs) because I'm suffering from depression despite having a wonderful partner, great sisters and great friends.]

But Harry inherited all of Sirius's money/belongings when he died, not Remus.

I don't know about you, but I don't peg Remus as somebody who would've accepted it. Apart from that, Remus was an adult whom Sirius saw as an equal, just as capable as himself, whereas Harry was Sirius's godchild, whom he felt responsible for (and probably still guilty towards).

But Sirius had his wall plastered with pictures of bikini-clad girls

And I had a poster of my favorite (male) singer over my bed at the age of fourteen. Guess what, I'm not straight.

What about Remadora?

I'm not stepping into the 'Is Remus gay'/'Is Remus bisexual' debate right here because I don't think it's necessary. Remadora was after Sirius's death. Period.

And the whole Remadora ship is awful - for both of them. @lizlemonbennet wrote a beautiful post about that

Tonks deserved better - she was so unhappy pining after him, it was literally sucking joy and confidence out of her (her hair changed and her Patronus changed). Lets talk about her Patronus actually. Before Remus it was a rabbit, after she fell in love with him it was a wolf. If Patroni represent your personality, what does it say about you when your Patronus is your lover's literal prey? To me that's a pretty obviously unhealthy dynamic.

But you're erasing women from the story

No, we're not. Wolfstar was a thing before Remadora and Sirius doesn't even have a canonic love interest. Besides - I love Jily and doesn't Hermione get paired with just about anyone?

But the author stated on wizardingworld.com that Remus had never fallen in love before he met Tonks.

I think the whole killing off Sirius and marrying off Remus thing was just the author dealing with fans interpreting her story in a way she didn't like. So, that's point Pro Wolfstar in my book. Either way, I don't care much about what she wrote on Wizardingworld or elsewhere when it contradicts the original source material. Because the author contradicting herself in interviews, on Pottermore, with the films, and even within the books is really nothing new. Just a short list of her making no sense:

James Potter being a seeker, no a chaser, no a seeker, actually nvm

Saying that Snape was in a gang with the Lestranges ('a married couple') at school, when Bellatrix had already left school when Snape arrived at Hogwarts

Saying James was fifteen in 'Snape's Worst Memory' when he had to have been sixteen. It happened after O.W.L.s and students turn sixteen during their fifth year of school. With his birthday being stated as being in March in the very source material itself (DH), sorry, but that's just wrong.

The whole timeline of the Order deaths in 1981

Halloween 1981 being a Wednesday when it actually was a Saturday (Wednesday - Saturday, close, huh?). The story starts from Vernon Dursley's perspective who's on his way to work and Harry's been brought to Privet Drive the same evening. According to the 'real calendar' this means baby Harry spent over a day alone in the ruins of his parents' house? Cool

September first, 1993, being a full moon, meaning Remus has to have transformed on either the train ride to Hogwarts or during the Start of Term feast. Meet your need DADA professor, he's a werewolf, like, right now. Ups, I guess the jig is up.

Remus not transforming in PoA when he hurries to the Shack despite sun already having set just because the moon is blocked by clouds??? It's that easy to evade transformation, yes? Why not lock yourself in the basement, then?

.... (don't get me started on plot holes, I could rant about this to no end)

Other reasons the ship appeals to so many people

Friends to lovers (with a bit of enemies to lovers because of the spy thing?)

I don't have to elaborate on that do I?

Just the right measure of opposites attract / Like will to like - They're good together or at least have the potential to be

I didn't mean to turn this into some Remus Lupin / Sirius Black meta, but...

In some ways they are super similar. It's very important to both of them to be viewed as 'good' by others (although their definitions may differ). Remus because he needs that sort of validation because of his poor self-worth. Sirius needs to be seen as 'good' as opposed to his family. They get each other partly because they know how it's to be reduced to a single trait. But then they act very differently about it - Sirius plunges into action while Remus retreats and masks.

They're both dark in some ways; they were both ready to kill Peter.

James didn't believe one of his friends would betray him. Both Sirius and Remus weren't so naive (Although drawing the wrong conclusions):

You think I'm a fool?" demanded Harry.  'No, I think you're like James,' said Lupin, 'who would have regarded it as the height of dishonor to mistrust his friends.'

Remus is kind/gentle but he's also passive-aggressive at times and sometimes manipulative. Whereas Sirius is harsh, sometimes even cruel, but that means he's also blunt. That has the potential of them dragging one another away from the extremes a bit, meeting in the middle (although Sirius probably would be able to do so on his own, I think most times he simply doesn't care).

While Sirius is much less dramatic and rash than parts of the fandom make him out to be, he has a tendency to act impulsive (acting like a mad mass murderer when he breaks into the castle / wanting to murder Peter without thinking about what that means for his relationship with Harry / jumping to his feet to immediately have a word with Snape when he hears about him dropping the Occlumency lessons). He can do with some sort of counterforce just as Remus needs somebody who forces him to crawl out of his shell.

The drama

They get each other without really getting each other. Sirius thinking Remus is the spy is super tragic because he's (probably) in one way or another reducing him to the werewolf thing, which is the one thing that really hurts Remus.

But he doesn't do that for malicious intent - he does so because he sees Remus's struggle, because it makes sense to him and because he deems Remus capable. But he doesn't really *get* Remus. Because if he did, he would have realized that for Remus it was always most important to be liked/fit in. He'd never betray his friends' trust, because he's so grateful for having them in the first place. He would have rather died, - he doesn't think his life is worth much anyhow (as opposed to Peter). Remus would rather die than risk being shunned.

So he sees Remus but misses the point spectacularly. Which just breaks my heart. And still they're finding back to each other (as friends at least)

Goodbye

Thanks to everyone who's read that far. Again, I don't mean to bash any other ship, this is just about my 'love' for Wolfstar - canon wolfstar especially, meaning keeping their canon personalities and not erasing James or playing down his importance. Don't tell me I can't write a canon compliant Wolfstar story just because the fandom has transformed the characters into something else.

I'm also not saying that you have to read it the way I do, it's always interpretation anyhow. But I hope I managed to shed some light on the whole matter.

I didn't check the text because I didn't intend it to get that long tbh. I only had time to write it down because I'm sick at the moment. But I hope there's no holes or anything.

[fleursbending]

𝐀𝐓 𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐓, 𝐈'𝐌 𝐓𝐑𝐘𝐈𝐍𝐆. 

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : sully!family x daughter!reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 : you try to prove to your family the endurance you behold. but your trials and tribulations get the best of you.

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 : requested, yes | no. based on a few chosen lyrics from the song this is me trying by taylor swift. not proofread sorry!

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : angst no comfort, dialogue-heavy, character death oops, deviates from the original atwow movie plot!

𝐠𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐚𝐫𝐲 : - ‘eveng - child // tsmuke - sister // iknimaya - rite of passage // muntxate - wife // ngaytxoa - i'm sorry // 'ite - daughter // sa'nok - mother // olo’eyktan - clan leader // tsamsiyu - warrior // 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 : 2k words.

I've been having a hard time adjusting.

Life in the Hallelujah Mountains was a direct juxtaposition from whence you came. The ruggedness of the rocks, the sound of your feet making contact with the stones beneath you. There wasn't any shrubbery to whack out of your face. Instead, it was squeezing around the commune of people and narrowly avoiding knocking into tents.

You missed the plushness of the earth that would encompass you, guiding you to another adventure. Instead of your feet aching at the impact, they'd sink into the soil. When you'd inhale, the oxygen granted you serenity.

Up here the air was a little thinner, not enough to affect your oxygen on a larger scale - but it didn't pass you. Nothing did.

You made sure your father knew of such grievances.

I had the shiniest wheels, now they're rusting.

A prodigy had been birthed within you the moment your soul graced the world. The people were more than hyperaware of it. Especially Mo'at who looked like she'd seen Eywa herself as Neytiri cradled you for the first time in her arms.

That was before. When wielding a bow and arrow came easy to you, when you'd been the youngest to have a successful hunt, when you'd come back from a fishing trip with your dad with enough to feed the whole clan.

After coming in the form of your brother who was proving to be someone who looked and felt like he was more deserving of the role of Olo'eyktan one day.

The berries on top came in the form of leaving the communities rendition of Home Tree up to the mountains where the Sky People could no longer target them.

She'd never felt this weathered down, this loneliness ebbing away at all her wasted potential. The regrets anchor themselves then, a stark reminder that this war was brooding and vicious. At a young age, she must force herself to become capable.

I didn't know if you'd care if I came back.

When the day came for you to prove just that, you did so within a blink of an eye. You didn't know the consequences that would come for doing so, all that was drilled in your mind was "my family."

So when your mother's arrows came flying in the dark of the night to try to save you from your kidnappers. The rain casts itself over and your little sister Tuk is getting choked out by one of the soldiers. This was your time to truly try.

I have a lot of regrets about that.

You barreled in, ripping the soldier's hands from your sister's neck, and pushing her behind you.

"Go tuk, run!" Urgency is crystal in your voice, and Lo'ak can only give you a quick glance of fear before grabbing your sister in haste.

He was waiting for you.

"No, Lo'ak - go! I'll follow after you, okay?" You grunt, trying to battle this soldier off.

He soundlessly nods, gulping and blinking the tears that prickle at his eyes before disappearing into the foliage and eclipse of the night.

If only her stubborn self just kneed the soldier in the groin and left with them.

Could've followed my fears all the way down.

The trepidation began to bubble in the pit of her belly, and it sunk deeper and deeper the more the soldier overpowered her.

A wrangled cry escapes her throat as a very distinct "pop" echoes through the brewing chaos. He'd dislocated her shoulder. She didn't have time to dwell on it though, her uninjured arm reaching for the knife and unsheathing it from the soldier's grasp.

Everything slows down then.

Somehow she's being pushed onto the floor, and the knife that was once pressed to her perpetrator's neck was now inching into her stomach.

Oh, she's hurt. Blood pooled in her mouth then, the man letting out a menacing laugh - gun in hand and about to land a bullet to her head when an arrow shot into his instead.

And maybe I don't quite know what to say.

"My dear 'eveng, no!" She hovers over you in worry, looking around before muttering apologies. The knife was still lodged in your gut as she tried her best to lift you up and carry you to safety.

Your hand gripping the handle of the knife weakens, slipping in and out of consciousness as your mother tries her best to find the others.

"Ngaytxoa, sa'nok." You rasp out, chest shuddering at the sheer effort such a minor action took.

She hushed you, worries growing at how pale you'd already gotten as she enters a clearing.

"Muntxate?" A hushed whisper comes from in front of you.

It makes your mother jump in fright, jostling you a little making you let out something akin to a wail.

"Ma Jake, help her! I do not know what to do!" Your mother sobs in defeat, crouching to gently lay you down on the soft patch of grass beneath you.

"D-dad..." You grunted as his hand pressed on your dislocated shoulder.

I just wanted you to know, that this is me trying.

"Ma 'ite, what happened?" Your sempul's eyes glaze over in worry taking in your form. He did not know anatomy well, but the placement of where you'd been stabbed would have definitely gotten some of your organs.

"I had to save her dad, I had to save Tuk" She mumbled, eyes lost and looking at the night sky peering at her through the branches of trees.

"Tsmuke!" Tuk whines out, kneeling by your head at the mention of her name. She'd forever be in debt to you, and while she was young - her heart knew what was coming.

Lo'ak, Neteyam, and Kiri, follow her movements. All of them settled by you, not knowing what on earth to do but be there for their sibling.

Jake gave them all a look then, a twisted confirmation - an ending to your chapter. This wound was lethal, and you were suffering.

They told me all of my cages were mental.

Neytiri and Jake had never felt such utter distraught until today's events. Sure their kids were mischievous, always finding themselves up to no good. But they thought they had this handled, each battle they've gone into - they've lost some...not all.

Yet this felt too cruel, too world-altering and crumbling. Their child, is so frail and withering.

You and Neteyam were their mighty tsamsiyu's. Never did they want to have to see you go like this. Not when you had so much ahead yet to experience and live through.

They knew you were going through your own external crisis, and now more than ever - your parents wished they'd been more of a lending hand.

So caught up in raids, so caught up in making a stand - protecting their people. That their daughter had swept herself under a mat right before their eyes.

Her cages were going to finally win today, how ironic.

I was so ahead of the curve, the curve became a sphere.

As the eldest Sully daughter, you were more than self-aware of the baggage that came with who you'd become. The mantle to live upon and make yourself a dazzling star to gain the approval of your people.

You won over the people, and their hearts and souls. Strong in their eyes, almost the exact replica of Neytiri.

A healer apprentice under Mo'at, yet still going hunting with your father and brothers. There was a balance you'd manage to create that aided in you spreading out all the help and effort you could give.

But spreading yourself out so thinly can only last for so long.

Fell behind on my classmates, and I ended up here.

Even if you were the eldest though, you knew Neteyam was the one to become Olo'eyktan. It was what your Tsahik wanted, after all, Eywa had spoken it to her after Neteyam successfully finished his Iknimaya.

The tasks that filled up every inch of your day began to dwindle, and the people's hearts swayed to another. Your own brother, yet you didn't blame him for it.

For now, he to had to bare the weight that comes with a treacherous amount of responsibilities. The weight that comes with being named the future Olo'ekytan of your clan.

Therefore your uselessness began to amount...to nothing. Your father began to pour his efforts and lessons into Neteyam, who before used to just be a bystander - it was his turn to be molded.

Sure, you still were a daughter of the infamous yet famous Sully's, but the desire to be more than that no longer was set aflame.

Pouring out my heart to a stranger.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, - I just wanted to live up to you both. I wanted to be better, I just wanted to protect our family." She whispered, voice growing fainter as time ticked by.

"That's not on you to do!" Jake wept then, infuriated at the circumstances. It should have been him who suffered at the hands of the sky people, it was him they wanted anyway.

"At that moment - it felt like it, sempul." She insisted, her weak hand grasping his own that hovered over the knife still embedded in her.

"Leave it, I'm going to be okay. You're going to be okay."

A sharp gasp leaves his lips, before forcing them closed. His head shakes, shoulders quaking as he tries to muffle his cries.

Neytiri lets her hand rest on his shuddering shoulder as she leans down to press a feather-like kiss yet filled with so much purpose to your forehead.

She tries to explain.

"What your sempul is trying to say, is that it should be us who had been there. Not hiding in the dark, by your side."

At least, I'm trying.

A broken scoff escaped you then, "Can you just say thank you? I'm trying, I tried. I just wanted to show you guys I still had it in me. I wanted to save my little sister. I wanted to be of use, I wanted to help."

Neytiri doesn't care for the tears that cascade down her face, instead thumbing her daughter's ones away instead.

"I knew you always had it in you, baby girl. I'm sorry if it seemed like I ever stopped. I'm so sorry." Jake's voice wavers, cracks, a tear of his dropping onto your cheek - masked by your own that moves like a silent ship.

He was determined then, your efforts would not go down in vain.

And it's hard to be at a party when I feel like an open wound.

A smile graced her face then, one of acceptance. The clock was going to halt soon and she hopes that her intentions did not come off as something vengeful and selfish. But from a place of genuine protection and vigilance.

One fleeting look at them gave her great comfort though, they knew.

She etched the faces of her family into her heart then, even if they looked like they were in as much pain as you currently were. You wanted them to be the last thing you'd see.

The pain numbed then, the cries of anguish from the people that love her the most in this unsure world - muted.

The one thing that never faltered was the tight grasp of your father's hand that held onto your own, a gentle reminder that he was there as his thumb rubbed a soothing motion on the back of your hand.

Right by her your mother caressed your hair, occasionally leaning down to press another kiss to your head. Her cries oddly quieting, instead, revenge began to paint scenarios in her mind. All while she reminisced of everything you had been and what you were becoming.

"We're here, Tsmuke." Neteyam whispered, Kiri and Lo'ak chime in with a wavering hum of unfortunate understanding.

Hidden between the lines of such a simple statement, it's alright - you can let go and rest now.

Her heart stills then.

I just wanted you to know, that this is me trying.

𝒇𝒍𝒆𝒖𝒓𝒔𝒃𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈 ━━━ 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑

⤷ feedback and reblogs are always much appreciated ! feel free to ask through my inbox if you would like to join my taglist. ♡

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 : @pandorainmymind @eywas-heir @spicycloudsalad @missdreamofendless @prty-poisxn @scarlettwitch-4 @23victoria @avidreader3107 @theycallmesia @mazemymirror @tsireyasgf @nijirozzz @useryourbut @yua-himari @sweetheartlizzie07 @grierpilots @reneehillary69 @fruitsalad1 @forasgaard @iwaslikeblah @dumb-fawkin-bitch @theicemav @narutoboi @hai-kbai @goosemothersblog @audigay @cyberfreaky @worldofmunson @ihonestlydontknowwhattonamethis @wwwellacom @starl1g4t

[yandereworlds]

「 INDEX + INTRODUCTION 」

˚₊‧🔪WELCOME TO MY YANDERE BLOG! I mainly make content for my own original characters and occasionally, fandom related stuff. This blog is strictly 16+ and run by two people.

My name is Kiki (She/Her) and I am 18+. I’m the one that mainly provides the art and bots that you’ll find throughout this blog and sometimes, I write headcanons/imagines as well. My writer is Rose (She/Her, 18+) and she’s responsible for writing the fanfictions and some of the drabbles. To make it easy for you to know who's behind each post, you'll see either 'Mun Kiki', 'Mun Rose', or both credited in the tags.

We started this blog because we had numerous ideas for yandere characters. Given my background as an artist and Rose's talent as a writer, it seemed like a natural fit. I'm primarily creating this post to serve as a guide for navigating the blog. I've received numerous asks about accessing the characters' backgrounds, information, as well as questions regarding my bots, projects, commissions, socials, and other related topics. You can use this post as a reference FAQ or as a comprehensive guide to streamline your experience on the blog. 

Find that you enjoy our work? Consider leaving a tip, it’s greatly appreciated and helps the blog. Also, if you’d like to be able to be more involved with our creative process and engage with the community, you can join our Discord server here. 

╰┈➤ ASK RULES - OPEN!

✦ Absolutely no NSFW asks. This blog is 16+ for a reason, so obviously, we will be trashing asks related to sexual topics. 

✦ We’re allowed not to answer certain asks. If you’ve been spamming the same ask and we haven’t responded to it for months, it’s most likely because we aren't comfortable doing so OR we’ve already answered an ask similar to yours.

✦ We will not be answering any asks regarding self-harm, eating disorders, extreme gore, noncon or any topics that could be associated with them. 

✦ Finally, we kindly request your patience. We understand that it may take some time to address each individual ask, as we both have busy lives and there may be periods when we don't post asks for weeks. Please refrain from rushing us, and rest assured, we will eventually get to your ask. 

╰┈➤ YANDERE MASTERLISTS 

Original Yandere Masterlist

Fandom Yandere Masterlist

╰┈➤ CHARACTER AI + JANITOR AI

If you've been following this account for some time, you're likely aware that I frequently share my character bots here. I've received numerous asks about which bots are available and where to find them online. While I plan to compile a list of my bots soon, for now, I'll provide links to both of my accounts for future reference.

It's worth noting that I'm currently on a temporary hiatus from Character AI due to site complications. Consequently, most of my recent bots can be found on Janitor AI, where I'm more active. Before visiting either site, please be aware that Janitor AI is intended for users aged 18 and above, whereas Character AI caters to a younger audience. In other words, minors stay off JanitorAI!

My Character AI profile - 1, 2, 3, 4

My Janitor AI profile (18+) - 1, 2, 3, 4, 5

Wish to request a bot from me? You can find the information here.

╰┈➤ ART COMMISSION INFO - OPEN

Pretty self explanatory. If you're interested in commissioning artwork from me, simply click the link to access my commission page. Currently, I'm accepting payments through both PayPal and Cashapp. Below is a brief FAQ regarding my commissions. Should you have any further questions, don't hesitate to contact me!

Can you draw my OC with your characters?

✦ Yes, absolutely! Just provide me a reference and what you'd like specifically. We can discuss all the details in DM's.

Can you draw a character from 'this fandom' for me?

✦ I'm completely fine with drawing fandom related content. The only fandoms I will not draw under any circumstance is youtubers, Your Boyfriend, Country Humans, BTD and Killing Stalking. Otherwise, I'm open to whatever.

Can you draw a comic for me?

✦ Yes, but only short comics. You can let me know what you'd like the short comic to be about and all that fun stuff. Just know comics from me will likely be around $20-$40+ dollars depending how detailed and complex you'd like it to be.

[littlespacefella]

Many of you may know about Maria, a pedophile in the everymanhybrid community. It had been a while since I saw her around, so I assumed she had stopped. This is not the case. On her Instagram, she claims she has a new boyfriend. After messaging her "boyfriend" I found out that not only is he a minor, they aren't even dating. Here's screenshots of the conversation I had with them (name censored for privacy)

This conversation broke my heart. They are obviously unaware of what is happening to them. I am disgusted and enraged. The fact they feel unable to leave her is deeply concerning.

Also, I have confirmed that the animal jam account abbbbb56 does in fact belong to Maria. I've been digging and found out some more information about her as well. Her real name is Olivia Heirs. I have some of her family member's contact information but I will not share any of it for privacy reasons.

Finding out info has been difficult because she lies constantly. No, she is not from Denmark. She lives in the United States. At one point she was telling people she has a daughter. She does not. She's in her 20s and still lives with her parents. As far as I know, her family is not aware of what she's been doing.

I finally decided enough is enough and messaged one of her family members. They haven't responded yet, and I'm not sure how often they use Instagram so it may take a while to get a response.

I hope we can finally bring her to justice.

[tigirl-and-co]

Specks of Dust in Hallowed Halls

Part 2; Linguistics

Part 1, the introductory chapter, is here!

Now we get into the shippy stuff! And bonus points for anybody who recognizes the book I've chosen here

"Howlsong, who had fallen asleep at the outer edge of the canyon while he waited, led them silently back through the forest. Fritti, full of vague resentment and doom, had no conversation to offer, either. After a long stretch of unspeaking travel, Pouncequick finally broke the stillness.

"Just think, Tailchaser," he said, "we've actually been to see the Queen of Cats!""

You were curled up in a nook that you had unofficially claimed as your own somewhere in the human residence. Made more comfortable by a few blankets and pillows, you had chosen it for its out-of-the-way location and because Metroplex could both see the spot with a camera and use a nearby speaker to talk with you.

In your lap was your phone, currently accessing his personal communication line, which let him hear your voice.

Metroplex loved your voice. It was his favourite sound, the most wonderful melody he'd heard in all his unfathomable eons of existence. Every syllable, every stutter and stumble was permanently caught in his memory circuits, and he wouldn't have it any other way.

And when he learned you had a collection of books back on earth, he had practically begged you to import some to read to him. Not only was he desperate to hear your voice, Metroplex was also curious about you. What you liked to read, what the human culture you hailed from was like, what you thought about things...

So, you found yourself contacting a friend on earth to bring a few books to the supply ship every so often, and spending a bit of extra cash to get them shipped here and back. You didn't mind. It felt nice to be heard. To have your interests acknowledged and considered important.

And, quite honestly, you simply enjoyed hearing him speak. The deep rumble was both soothing and impossible to ignore, and his contemplative nature gave every statement the gravitas of some ancient philosopher comprehending the universe.

"So, Metty, what'd you think of that chapter?" you asked, keeping your own opinions out of it. You were just as interested in his thoughts as he was in yours.

A few moments of pause. "Hm... are human noble courts typically like that?"

You chuckled. Of course that's what he picked out- he'd borne witness to much more sophisticated councils time and time again. In fact, some other part of his processor was probably preoccupied with one now.

"Honestly? Never been. But if I walked in to one and it went like that, I wouldn't be surprised in the least. Fancy people looooooove making overly complex routines and rules and then not actually doing anything to help." You looked up into his camera and beamed at him. "But I get the feeling that sort of behaviour isn't unique to my species."

You felt as much as heard his merriment at that one. "No, it truly is not. Although I've found Cybertronians prefer bureaucracy to bloodlines."

You snuggled back into your nook, still making eye contact with the camera as you got ready for what was certain to be the nerdiest bout of flirting any human had ever partaken in outside of a lab. "Ah, humans most definitely get up to red tape and government nonsense too, but I'm afraid that compared to millions of years of rule-writing, ours would pale in comparison."

You smirked. "Although I'd like to see what would happen if somebody addressed Prime as 'Your Regal Softness.'"

Metroplex desperately wished he had finer control over his internal mechanisms so that he could embrace you right now. But he would have to settle for watching you curl up against his walls. "Knowing that mech, he would assume it was an actual title and wear it with pride."

You burst out laughing at the image, and how it didn't seem all that far-fetched. You both respected Optimus, but that didn't mean you couldn't be irreverent about him in private.

And as you chatted with the titan, book now just conversational fuel, you were struck by how easy it all was. The meandering levity, the way you each made both space and time for each other...

And how easy he was to love.

[harkre]

I don't know where to post this—

But it isn't like she and her "group" can't drive me off the server—because I've long left it behind. And it was I who originally introduced them to "Minecraft" which I had made a realm and invited them alongside friends. However, when people were suggesting I made a server—I told them it would take me awhile to make one. Well—Niklos couldn't wait and took everyone off from my realm and invited them to 'their server' without inviting me which I had to third-party to get a invite because I didn't even know about it!

And many don't know the actually reason why I left Moon Guard—it was due to "Niklos Adamant" Guild Leader of the Remnants of Lordaeron and it wasn't due to the "Minecraft" incident. They are manipulative and most of this stems due to lack of communication from them and other people. The only person that really communicated to me about any complaints was the leader from the Residuum. Apparently "Niklos" had a problem with me for months but never communicated about it once despite our close proximity in-game and being friends in discord. They never contacted me to expression their complaints to me directly for "months" and when they did contact me about it—

Literally didn't communicated back with me for "months" via discord and accused me of "siccing" my friends after them. When I wasn't even online in-game for that and don't know the full context of what had happened. Just that I was doing a role-play that involved someone wanting to role-play with people from the Cathedral group and that wanted to be involved with my story. But something happened and it blew way out of proportion and was never given screenshots of what actually occurred from either party. But as you can see Niklos hadn't contacted me since December of 2021 and all the way until May of 2022 and /whisper communication in-game was non-existent.

And the screenshots in regards to the conversation that had with Hillsbradian below were originally shown to me by Niklos herself before I joined their discord back in 2019 when I had originally joined Moon Guard and was desperate for friends. I should have taken screenshots but I never thought anything like this could occur in the future with "drama"

Basically they whispered me this tinyurl link that they were "sad" that these screenshots were going around framing them in a bad way and that they were fake. And basically said something like this: "you know that isn't my discord profile picture and name" and I was dumb enough to believe them—because I didn't know better and was just desperate for a friend. However the conversation always hit me as fishy because—"you can change your profile picture and name" at any time!

I stumbled back on the screenshots here on tumblr and clearly other people seem to be aware of them and that they aren't "fake"

I've made even more people aware of them. For example: "Gnews" "Eveneah Rosewood" and some of the core officers and the leader for the "Residuum of Icecrown" are aware of the screenshots and if there is more evidence apparently this Maxen has them.

Including of Bishop "Tyragonfal" which the Residuum of Icecrown does have a document about them with evidence for why they are "blacklisted"

Tyragonfal also stalked my character from the Residuum of Icecrown various times until I had to join a voice chat for the "Midnight Repose" to tell them to stop parking themselves right nearby me in emote range. They would also metagame using their alt in the Residuum of Icecrown at the time called "Nightravens" and they are a 38+ female player who was sending inappropriate messages to the officers from the Residuum of Icecrown in a very "s*xuel matter" and seem to target young men for their "r*pe" kinks and even wrote an inappropriate fanfiction with them and another character without their consent. Eitherway "Midnight Repose" defends them and Niklos gave them a high role in their Remnant of Lordaeron discord.