#the others just need to feel more like themselves for me to like it

[procrastinatingfeminist]

Yeah this is this one thing i feel ambivalent about. On one hand a well known actor (any celebrity not grandfathered into their money and privilege, actually, actors ain't that speshful) has the reach and the audience that very few people in the world can command. Look how many people Taylor Swift compelled to register to vote, just with a few compassionate tweets. Look on the other spectrum of the example, of how many vicious, despicable misogynists has JKR managed to instrumentalize in ostrasizing an Olympic athlete, just because of her greed and because the only thing keeping her relevant anymore is tearing into women so deviate from the western white beauty standard. So, obviously, Pedro does have a lot of power that he can wield. And he often did it, for good cause, when he spoke out about being an ally to trans people, and probably other things too.

On the other hand, his job is being an actor, not the UN ambassador. An actor is, when you get down to it, only a person, who is encumbered by their own limited intelligence, their biases, their beliefs, their cultural upbringing. Why do we constantly harass them to demonstrate model behaviours, to have the right answers about god, and universe, and everything? It is not fair to them. It becomes even more ridiculous when grown ass men and women start asking barely grown up child actors for answers that they should have already intuited themselves, for fucks sake, if they weren't so morally and intellectually bankrupt!!! You don't need Daniel Radcliffe saying to you that bullying is bad or the Seamus, Dean and Neville actors declaring that being homophobic is actually kinda cringe. Pierce Morgan isn't going to be suddenly converted by their quotes, and if this old ass fuck still haven't haven't learned by now how harmful his beliefs are, no amount of badgering a celebrity into voicing their opinion is going to change that, because it is no longer about lack of knowledge, but about lack of moral integrity. Actors aren't superior human beings just because they are famous. They have a pretty specific skill set, and thats it. Some are smart, some are geniuses, but some are also actually pretty dumb, and some are vile. There are plenty actors who happily voted leopard party, before they discovered that their faces are not immune from being eaten.

And on the other other hand, the situation today is not what it was eight years ago, six years ago. US is becoming a full blown fascist state with no checks and balances. Last election period you could still go "lets agree to disagree" without facing career-ending - god, i would actually go so far as to say life-ending - consequences, because the plurality of opinions was still practiced. Now? If someone famous like Pedro fucking Pascal, someone who Disney corporation is invested in backing, because he is the face of one of their best known Star Wars franchises, feels unsafe to offer a public opinion? This is pure, unadelterated fascism. There is no quibbing about it. His career is tied to Hollywood. I bet he already thought about quietly disappearing to Denmark for a few years and starring in a couple of indie european movies - it's not like he hurts for money - but no country in Europe has big enough movie making market to be a long-term solution. And if Trump guts the movie industry with his tariffs as he spouted off, it won't even be an option, because once you go, you are out. And that kind of suffocating, gut-heaving existential fear changes a person. I thankfully remember it only with a distant haziness that comes from living your childhood in such a regime, and it still keeps me up in cold sweat from time to time, and he seems to have a similar experience, but what does it say about our timeline that this feeling is increasingly becoming familiar like it is here to stay, like an unwanted roommate that doesn't pay rent and mooches off your groceries, but you also cannot evict?

Pedro Pascal EDDINGTON - Press Conference - Cannes 2025

[little-jana]

"The Wrong Idea"

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x f!reader

Genre: fluff

Words: 1.2k

Warnings: Pregnancy misunderstanding (humorous), workplace teasing

Summary: The team thinks you're pregnant... why not have a little fun with them...

a/n: I think it's kinda obvious: I'm officially in my dad!hotch era and have sooo many ideas with this theme! Do you love it as much as I do? Do you want mooooore? 🪻

Being a member of the BAU often meant everyone on the team knew too much about each other. Spending countless hours together on cases and long flights left little room for privacy. Still, you hadn’t anticipated the whirlwind of chaos that erupted the moment they thought you were pregnant.

It started innocently enough, but as the speculation snowballed, it took on a life of its own—and the last person you expected to weigh in was Aaron Hotchner.

It began one morning at work, after a particularly rough case had kept alle of you up most of the night. You were leaning against the counter in the kitchenette, pouring yourself a cup of herbal tea instead of your usual coffee.

JJ appeared beside you, eyebrows raised. “Tea? Since when do you drink tea?”

You shrugged. “Just felt like it today.”

She tilted her head, studying you. “Are you feeling okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you said, a little confused by her sudden concern.

“Hmm,” she said, a soft smile tugging at her lips. “Well, let me know if you need anything.”

You didn’t think much of it until later that afternoon, when Garcia cornered you at your desk.

“You know, you’ve been looking absolutely radiant lately,” she said, her tone suspiciously sweet.

You glanced up at her. “Uh… thanks?”

“I’m serious,” she said, her eyes sparkling with something that looked a lot like mischief. “There’s just this… glow about you.”

“I think you’re imagining things,” you said, trying not to laugh.

“Oh, I don’t think so,” she said, winking at you before flouncing off.

---

By the end of the day, the comments were piling up.

Emily handed you her snack halfway through the afternoon. “Here, you should eat this. You need to keep your strength up.”

“Why?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

She just smiled knowingly and walked away.

Even Rossi got in on the act, offering you unsolicited advice about “balancing work and family life” while Derek kept smirking at you like he knew something you didn’t.

It wasn’t until you overheard JJ and Emily whispering in the break room that you finally pieced it together.

“Do you think she’s told Hotch yet?” JJ asked.

Emily shook her head. “No way. But he has to know, right? I mean, they’ve been spending a lot of time together.”

You froze, you teacup halfway to your lips.

They thought you were pregnant.

At first, you were too stunned to say anything. But the more you thought about it, the funnier it became.

You weren’t pregnant, obviously. But the team had convinced themselves otherwise, and their attempts at subtlety were laughable at best.

You decided not to deny it outright. If they wanted to jump to conclusions, who were you to stop them? Besides, watching them tiptoe around the subject was too entertaining to pass up.

Of course, your plan backfired almost immediately...

The teasing began the next morning, when Derek caught you yawning during the morning briefing.

“Rough night?” he asked, a sly grin spreading across his face.

You shot him a look. “Not any rougher than yours, Morgan.”

“Sure, sure,” he said, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “I’m just saying, you should take it easy. You know, for the... baby.”

The room went silent.

You felt your face heat up as everyone turned to look at you, their expressions ranging from curious to downright amused.

“The what?” Hotch asked, his tone sharp.

Derek froze, clearly realizing he’d overstepped. “Uh… no baby. I was just joking.”

Hotch’s gaze flickered to you, his dark eyes narrowing slightly. “Is there something I should know?”

You opened your mouth to respond, but Garcia beat you to it.

“Oh, no, sir,” she said, grinning nervously. “Everything’s fine. Totally fine.”

Hotch looked unconvinced, but he didn’t press the issue. "We'll talk later about it."

The rest of the day was a blur of teasing comments and stolen glances. By lunchtime, you were ready to tear your hair out.

Garcia kept hovering around your desk, offering me snacks and bottles of water. JJ asked if you needed help with your workload. And Emily… well, Emily just smirked at you every time you passed her in the hallway.

You did y best to ignore them, but it wasn’t easy. Especially when Hotch kept looking at you like he was trying to solve a particularly difficult puzzle.

It all came to a head that evening, after we wrapped up a meeting in Hotch’s office.

You were gathering your things when he closed the door behind you, leaning against it with his arms crossed.

“Is there something you want to tell me?” he asked, his voice low.

You looked up at him, your heart skipping a beat. “What do you mean?”

“The team seems to think you’re… expecting,” he said, his brow furrowing slightly.

You couldn’t help but laugh. “They’ve got some pretty wild imaginations, don’t they?”

He didn’t smile. “So, it’s not true?”

“Of course not,” you said, shaking your head. “Why would you even think that?”

“Because they won’t stop talking about it,” he said, his tone tinged with exasperation. “And you haven’t denied it.”

You hesitated, suddenly feeling a little guilty. “I didn’t mean for it to get out of hand. I just… didn’t correct them.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Why not?”

“Because it was funny,” you admitted, shrugging.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “You’re impossible.”

You smiled, stepping closer to him. “But you love me anyway.”

He stared at you for a moment, his expression softening. “I do,” he said quietly.

Your breath caught in your throat.

“And for the record,” he added, his voice even lower, “I wouldn’t mind if it were true.”

Your heart skipped a beat. “You wouldn’t?”

He shook his head, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Not at all.”

You felt your cheeks heat up, a rush of emotions swelling in your chest. “Well,” you said softly, “maybe someday.”

“Someday,” he agreed, pulling you into his arms.

---

The next morning, when Derek made another joke about baby names, you couldn’t help but laugh.

“You’re all ridiculous,” you said, shaking your head.

“Ridiculously accurate,” Emily said, smirking.

You glanced at Hotch, who was standing nearby with his arms crossed. He caught your eye and gave you a small, knowing smile.

“Not this time,” you said, grinning. “But you’ll be the first to know when it is.”

The team stared at you, their mouths falling open.

And for the first time all week, you felt like you had the upper hand.

[the-tarot-witch22]

Messages from the universe - Pick a pile

Pile 1 / Pile 2

My Paid Readings | My insta | My Monthly Goal Post | Paid Reading Feedbacks! | Pac Masterlist!

Liked my blog or readings? Tip me!

Hello everyone ! It's been a while isn't it! So, this is my another pick a pile or pac reading so please be kind and leave comment or reblog, and let me know if it resonated with you!

Note : This is a general reading or collective reading. It may or may not resonate with you. Please take what resonates and leave what doesn't. And it's totally okay if our energies aren't aligned!

How to pick : Take a deep breath and choose a pile which you feel most connected to! You can choose more than one pile, it just means both pile have messages for you!

I worked really hard on this pac please show some love by leaving comments, likes and reblogs!

Pile 1

(The cards I got for you - knight of pentacles, the star, the hermit, justice)

Okay so first of all so major arcanas for you guys, trust me something life changing will be happening for you, it could be a major transition period, for some of you I am feeling you guys lost someone close to you? And you haven't been yourself for a while now, you feel lost? almost as if things aren't going your way atleast for now, I also feel the energy almost as if you are emotionally exhuasted. Anyhow let's dive deeper into your reading, okay loves, first of all universe wants you to be patient, this group is almost impulsive, or rather act on instinct or just without thinking, universe is saying "patience my child", i am also seeing you all or many of you try to manifest and when it doesn't work in try, you are like "why me?", "why must i suffer"? universe right now is dragging your ass out, that all you have to is listen trust me and you dont do that and you blame me back!? Damn it I am also feeling that universe wants you to focus yourself on your career or invest in your hobbies, and also look with in instead of distracting yourself with outer things, even if its uncomfortable more like "feel the feelings", I am also feeling that something about learning lessons, you dont have to go through one thing again and again, you can learn, but some of you guys here are stubborn, and don't see it that way, also i got a message that "no dont go back to your situationship", let's move forward and deeper into your reading, I am seeing and feeling that most of you guys here are intuitive , and do tarot/astro, universe is telling you to hone your skills, I am also feeling that the storm you are facing and faced in your life WILL NOT last forever, I am seeing and hearing you guys need a vacation or just some alone time for yourself, or maybe even open up about your feelings to people around you or close to you, no you won't be judged, there is hope guys, you are not alone, but again the message with pour the love you give outside to within you, you dont need external validation you are you are doing okay, its almost like universe is gently patting you on head, like our child you are enough, I am also seeing that some of you guys need to stand up for yourself you guys can stand up for others but themselves, so change that, you guys are truly embodient of balanced energy, but a small thing can rattle you, I am hearing "keep living, it does get better", universe is being very straightforward with you that you need to keep going, and not give up.

These are all the messages I have gotten for you my loves, hope it resonates and makes sense!

Signs - If you are a libra/Sagittarius/Leo/Taurus - Sun/moon/rising, and if you are wearing yellow/white/black/pink/blue tshirt/hoodie/sweatshirt, or i am seeing some of you guys lying, almost sleepy or like phone will fall on your face, if you might be near a charging port or refrigerator, or some of you could be drinking water.

pile 2

(The cards I got for you - ace of wands, 6 of pentacles , knight of pentacles, tower, 10 of wands)

Okay so the very first thing I feel and heard is "let your creativity shine", this pile might be very into artsy stuff, or enjoy the smaller art or moments in life, I am also seeing this group as who is most often percieved as "attractive to others" even if you don't see it yourself, you guys this pile had me, because I see you all go through you numerous amount of backstabbing or family issues, but still i see you, universe is proud of you my loves they will reward you too, and very soon! Okay so let's dive into your reading, so i am seeing and hearing that universe wants to say that, you guys need to apply for the jobs/colleges or even new type of hobbies, that you move, and be passionate about, I am seeing lots of procastination here, so don't actually do something even if its reading a book, it's like make the effort, the energy here is truly lazy ngl, hehe, so moving forward, I am seeing you will be the given a chance to work on a project soon, take that and you will shine, it will be kind of new opportunity for you, which you should take, I also am getting the message to wear what you want some of you could feel self conscious, but i am seeing you want that dress? wear that, step into your power, I am also feeling that you guys should might come across people from past, its upto you if you wanna talk to them or not. I am also feeling that you should help when you can small charity and donation, whatever you wish, and say you are grateful, i know it's cliche but small things like this truly help a lot, you might even start a new job soon, but be careful of the mental and emotional pressure, I am also feeling that, you guys need to rest just for a bit, not procastinating but actually breathe and journal, meditate, I am feeling universe is gonna send you a future partner soon/ or you may have already met them, anyhow! universe is telling you almost some of you might have gone through emotional upheavel or even harsh circumstances weeks/months ago, but don't worry you are gonna get back on track, you are again gonna feel better, you are not stuck you are just human, I also feel all of your stagnant work will be successful! "You are strong, but don't bear all the burdens alone", you don't have to, you dont have to pretend you are okay, cry it out, dance, heal, grow, and use your magic to build something for yourself!

So, that's it pile 2 hope you enjoyed!

Signs - If you are a aries/ saggitarius/virgo/capricorn/gemini - Sun/moon/rising, and if you are wearing tank top, striped tshirt, black/white/dark blue/printed, or some of you could be in car/or your dining room/kitchen while you see this.

Thank you for stopping by! Take care and remember you are loved <3

[billieswh0r3]

✩︎ ’𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬 𝐝𝐨𝐧𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐞’

𝐬𝐲𝐩𝐧𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐬 : billie is your girlfriend but they seem so close..you couldn’t help but feel jealous.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : mean!billie x jealous!reader, lowk angst, odessa being mean, hurt, name calling, no happy ending :(

𝐚/𝐧 : just needed to say i LOVE my baby odessa but sacrifices had to be made. also this is based in 2024 coachella soo yeah.

𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠.. ’𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐞’

✩︎✩︎✩︎✩︎✩︎✩︎✩︎✩︎✩︎✩︎✩︎✩︎✩︎✩︎✩︎✩︎✩︎✩︎✩︎✩︎✩︎✩︎✩︎✩︎✩︎✩︎✩︎

the sun was so fucking hot. you could feel yourself getting sticky in places you didn’t know you could get sticky. maybe the sun was the reason for your sour mood. or perhaps cause you haven’t eaten anything yet nor have you drank anything and you desperately needed both of those things.

or maybe..just maybe it was the fact that your girlfriend was all buddy buddy with odessa. yes they’re like best friends but..do best friends dance on each other like this. yes you used to do this when you were single. but your not single. billie is your girlfriend. your partner. she is not single. was this normal? should you not be feeling the things your feeling?

you roll your eyes watching the girls. your not upset. no that wasn’t this feeling. this feeling was like..you wanted to erase odessa from existence. like anger bubbling up more and more.

but billie? nah nothing she seems more than happy to have a girl who isn’t her girlfriend grind up on her. you scoff removing yourself from the crowd. if she could do that..why couldn’t you?

you would’ve done the exact same thing back to her but the feeling bubbling inside of your stomach spoiled everything. your stomach churned in disgust.

you were gonna get her attention. you knew how you were gonna do it. you smirk to yourself making your way to billie’s trailer. you sigh getting out of the sun as you begin to shuffle through your suitcase. you smile to yourself changing into a small frilly white skirt and a small cropped frilly white tank top, putting on your jewelry and boots as you feel confident to step out of the trailer.

if this didn’t get her attention then you were fucked.

you can feel it already. feel the eyes on you. the stares that are both from man and woman. you know this is petty. your leaving absolutely nothing to the imagination. this is gonna piss her off, you were excited for her reaction but nervous for what she’s gonna say..or do.

when you get back to the stage your surprised to see that billie and odessa finally managed to peel themselves off each other.

sure odessa was all over your girlfriend but.. your not a bitch. you hum walking over to her seemingly cause you can’t find billie.

‘hey’ you say softly standing next to odessa. you see her give you a strict nod. ‘have you seen billie?’ you say looking up at her. ‘yeah, she’s going to get me a drink’ her voice laced with venom. she knew what she was doing. she was trying to irritate you. ‘oh..okay’ you nod confidently not wanting to show her that she got to you. but oh she definitely did.

the tension in your stomach was back. it was an awful feeling. it was nervousness and anger at the same time. ‘uh you guys looked like you were having fun up there’ you say trying to make small talk to not make it awkward. ‘oh yeah, billie really knows how to make a woman look good’ she says chewing her lip ever so slightly.

your face fell. who was she to be talking about your girlfriend like that. you couldn’t deal with it anymore. you push past her shoving your shoulder against hers. you hear her laugh loudly. not a nice, kind laugh but a vindictive laugh. she knew she was getting to you and she loved every second of it.

that was your last fucking straw. you push through the crowd to find billie. your breath finally eases as you spot her by the drink table. why was she not wondering where you were? you hadn’t been with her in an hour. yet she seemed completely relaxed.

you smile approaching her tugging on her shirt. ‘hi’ you smile lightly at her. you feel her turn to see you as her eyes dragging down your figure taking in your outfit. ‘look good baby’ she says lowly her arms circling your waist. you hum in acknowledgement leaning into her side.

‘you and odessa seemed to be having fun on stage’ you say softly wanting to know what shes gonna say. ‘mmh, yeah shes great..i don’t like dancing but for her i’d do it.’ your eyes nearly fell from their sockets.

you’ve asked her to dance. so many times. its always ‘i don’t know how’ ‘i don’t like dancing’. but she’ll dance with her? that had to be wrong right.

billie noticing you stiffen up next to her looks down at you quirking an eyebrow. ‘what’ she says sharply looking at your disheveled state.

‘you always said that..’ you trail off looking up at her. you see her gaze harden as she realizes what your referring to. ‘don’t start’ your eyebrows furrow at her sudden hostility. ‘it’s just odessa stop being insecure’ she growls her fingers digging into your side. you take yourself out from her side putting distance between you guys.

‘insecure? no shit ima be insecure, you were letting another girl grind down on your on stage.’ you snap your expression hardening. ‘yeah? that’s why your dressed like a slut?’ the pit in your stomach deepens. you immediately feel even more insecure at her words.

‘fuck you, your an asshole’ you say holding your head high not wanting her to make you cry. ‘yeah go cry like you always do..annoying..’ she mummers taking a sip of her drink.

you stare at her in shock. did she fall out of love. she’s the one that brought you were. she fucking insisted. ‘w-why’re you being so mean’ you ask looking at her softly not being to mask your emotions anymore.

‘cause ‘ve been feeling it for a while but you being insecure and clingy just solidified it. we’re not fit for eachother’ its like you were being punched in the gut. she’s been falling out of love for a while?

‘is it cause of her’ you ask not caring if your gonna her hurt at this point. the moment you see her nod you felt the world crumble.

‘she’s just so much better than you. she’s prettier than you ever were, she’s funner, her personality is better and she’s not a clingy bitch like you are’ thats when the tears start to fall. your world was being ripped away from you. we’re you really that bad. ‘i don’t wanna be with you anymore.’ she says with a laugh.

was this really funny to her? cause to you this was everything but funny. you don’t say anything you just turn around walking back to the trailer to grab your things.

your head was spinning, tears blurred your vision you ran into multiple people. your ears start to ring as your chest begins to tighten. fuck. people are staring you can’t be crying.

you wipe your tears quickly making your ways towards the trailer. you try so hard to keep it in but you can’t. the pain is overwhelming. the tears fall without you even wanting them to.

you dont know when you reached the trailer. but when you do thats when everything finally snaps. sobs rack out of your body as you slide down against the wall. it smells like her. the sheets you were both in this morning when she was telling you how much she loved you. liar.

you let out loud strangled sobs as you run your hands over the sheets. her clothes neatly in her suitcase. was she planning this. breaking your heart so easily like this.

you care so much..but you can’t stay. you needed to get out of here. even the mere thought of her made you cry harder. she couldn’t give two fucks. and thats what hurts you the most. the three years you spent together down the drain. into the trash like it never happened.

as you were making your way to the parking lot you look towards the stage. you see them. again dancing like this never happened. you hear people begin to talk. ‘they’re so cute together.’ ‘look at how billie looks at her..she’s in love. eyes don’t lie.’

you scoff through your tears making your ways towards the parking lot again. you didn’t know how you were gonna get home but you would figure it out.

anywhere was better than here.

[jandrichov]

Jindra. Jenda. And All That Comes With It.

I've got a genuine question for you all.

While writing Henry and Hans, I’ve come to realize I miss the emotional range of name variants they use in Czech — especially the way they address each other. There’s a wonderful post about this in the original game canon by @cibulovychleba, which explains it beautifully.

Yes, I know that in English canon, Henry sometimes goes by Hal, and I do use it in the fic — but Hal still feels different to me than the kind of tenderness their Czech names can carry.

In Czech, Henry’s full name is Jindřich. In tender or emotional moments, it becomes Jindra (pronounced roughly as “Yin-drah”) — or Jindro (“Yin-droh”) when used to directly address him. Hans, whose Czech name is Jan, becomes Jenda (“Yen-dah”) or Jendo (“Yen-doh”) in the same way.

You can hear it in that scene at Suchdol, when Hans turns to Henry with fear in his voice and calls him Jindro — and you instantly feel how much it means, even without any added description.

Names like these carry tone within themselves. You don’t need to write “he said it gently” — it’s already there in the choice of the name.

So now I’m wondering — would it be too strange or confusing if I occasionally used Jindra or Jenda in the English fanfic? Just in those rare, loaded moments, where tone matters more than literal clarity?

I truly don’t know. That’s why I’d love to hear your thoughts. Please feel free to leave a comment — or if you have an opinion but don’t feel like writing, there’s a quick poll below.

Thank you 🖤

[miaoua3]

Love your jeonghan period comfort. Could I request the same thing for Vernon?

Thanks! Have a great day!

hi! thank you so much for loving that hannie oneshot, and ofc i can do one for my boy bonon, hope you like it!

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••

(pairing: bf! vernon x f!reader)

you slowly open your eyes, blinking away the sleep. the room around you is dark except for the tv that is still playing the series you and vernon started watching. looking out of the window, you notice that it’s now dark outside as well, night having settled in the sky.

a mild hiss escapes you as you try moving your body a bit, cramps immediately making their reappearance upon your movements.

you give up on getting up and instead just settle in better. your hips are admittedly hurting from sleeping on your side while in the couch, but you don’t pay it any mind.

instead, you focus on your boyfriend.

vernon, a god sent angel apparently, took great care of you from the moment you woke up and noticed that you’ve gotten your period. from washing the sheets, showering with you (well, it was more you two just hugging while standing under the hot water stream but you did get clean in the end so), making you ramen, cuddling you, to taking care of you emotionally, giving you thousands of kisses on your forehead and lips, as well as babying you in his own vernon way that consisted of him gently holding your cheeks and saying “how can i help, babe?” while blinking with those extremely long eyelashes of his.

somewhere between the eaten snacks and you groaning in pain, you two settled on watching a series that you planned for a while, both of you settling on your couch.

vernon’s strong chest repeatedly pushed into your back as he breathed deeply, soft puffs of airs hitting the back of your head as he peacefully slept. one of his arms was under your head, actively acting as a pillow, while the other settled on your tummy, spread widely to provide your cramps with the much needed heat.

you heart swelled with love, noticing how his position hasn’t changed an inch for the few hours you two have been asleep.

somehow, that made you emotional. the way he loves you so gently and…adoringly, it made your eyes swell with a bit of tears.

you immediately turned in his hold, hugging him to yourself. tucking your head under his chin, you sniffle a bit as you pout at the emotions that you are feeling.

you moving was all it took for vernon to wake up, a deep breath being taken in by him. he immediately responds to your hug, hands wrapping themselves around your back as he quietly closes his eyes again.

they snap open, however, when he hears you sniffling again. his groggy but deep voice immediately starts investigating for a reason as to why.

“baby, what? why are you crying? are you okay? c’mere.”

the way he tries pulling you deeper in his arms because he knows how much you crave his touch in moments like this makes you break down even more, now starting to full-on cry.

he shushes you a bit, lips trying to find your forehead to kiss it as he whispers words like “it’s okay, i’m here” and “i got you”.

you finally tell him through your soft crying “i-i just-i just love you so-so much-“, stopping to let out a few sobs for a few seconds, “i can’t ima-imagine my l-life without y-you. you-you love me so-so gently i-i just-“, and that’s about all you can get out before you start sobbing into his neck even more.

vernon smiles to himself gently, adoring how cute you are. he knows this is probably just hormones talking, but he can’t help at how your words make him feel so proud-proud that he’s doing a good job at loving you, proud at how you are literally his girl, his sunshine, the centre of his universe, that he can’t help himself but to softly bring your face out of his neck and in front of his face so he can kiss you.

his lips gently part your own as his hands brush away your tears, trying to pour all of his love into you through this one kiss. he doesn’t use his tongue-he wants this hug to remain soft, gentle, and loving. instead, he switches between slowly kissing the upper and them the lower lip.

somewhere between the minutes of kissing, and just laying on the couch as you do so, he lets a few “i love you’s” slip out of his mouth.

he knew that you knew that as well. you just had a full-on crying session about it after all.

he just had to make sure.

yknow, for a good measure.

[cross-d-a]

First, I love Gurathin with all my heart. His bitchy energy is 10000/10 and it translates SO incredibly well in the new show. And I desperately love how even though Gurathin is presented as a very unlikeable character especially in relation to the other Preservation Aux members, the show makes an effort to show how much he actually cares about his friends. He’s so different from them and very standoffish, but the way he checks in on Mensah, quietly frets over Bharadwaj and how he confronts Murderbot and is incredibly protective and defensive of his friends (though in an awkward way that can be read as unpleasant)— it’s so clear he is full of anxious fear for the safety of his friends. He’s just a different kind of person than many people are used to, and it’s so beautiful to see that the Preservation Aux team recognizes that and loves and supports him anyway.

And let’s talk about the pronoun thing!!! Arada calls Murderbot “he” and Gurathin IMMEDIATELY corrects quite vehemently.

Gurathin: Do you get the feeling it doesn’t like us?

Arada: I don’t think he needs to like us

Gurathin: You’re right, IT doesn’t need to like us. IT needs to keep us safe.

OHMYGOD!!!!!!!! I smiled SO HARD during this part!!!! Without knowing Murderbot and its preferred pronouns it could come off as dehumanizing but- well. That’s kind of the point. Murderbot ISN’T human. It doesn’t consider itself remotely human. It is constructed of inorganic bot components and organic tissue and struggles with the concept of personhood throughout the series. But just because Murderbot isn’t human doesn’t mean it’s not a person. It’s just much more comfortable with it/its pronouns.

And Arada certainly meant no harm by calling Murderbot “he” because when Arada looks at Murderbot she definitely sees a person and automatically defaults to what she knows— but I adore Gurathin for correcting her. And yes, Gurathin is definitely supposed to come off as suspicious and unlikeable in the beginning, just like in the books. And yes, the series wouldn’t be as good without SOMEONE being kind of a dick and questioning Murderbot and creating inside conflict— but that’s what makes the Murderbot Diaries even more powerful. That we can go from Murderbot and Gurathin vehemently disliking each other, to a few books later when Murderbot asks for help and Gurathin comes running with Ratthi.

I love love love that Gurathin and Murderbot are so similar in certain ways and misunderstood in others, but are still so incredibly loved by the people who consider themselves their family.

Anyways, this is just me adoring everything about Gurathin in the live action series and the vehement validation of Murderbot’s pronouns :)

[heartyluv]

Not the same anon that originally requested this, but I absolutely loved your fic where Zayne and Sylus react to you saying you want to be the first to die. The way you wrote their reactions was perfect and wonderful to read, and (if you’re interested, of course) I’d love to see how the other three guys would also reply to such a statement c:

I only recently found your account and I can’t wait to read through more of your works <3

Note: I’m so happy that you enjoyed and even more so that you’re considering reading more. It makes me super happy. I’m really hoping I wrote Xavier and Rafayel accurately. I’m kinda nervous about theirs, but I hope you enjoy, luvly!

Warning: Mentions of Xavier in an accident, Mentions of Caleb dying (THEY ARE OKAY!!!)

Link to Zayne and Sylus’ <3

Creds to @/enchanthings-a for the divider!

Rafayel

You were elated when your boyfriend invited you over for a little date in his studio. Of course you said yes, because not only is Rafayel hard to say no to, but his studio is one of your favorite places to be.

It’s where you feel your safest to create, and it’s not just about painting. You draw, color, and even write poetry when you’re there. You completely understood what he meant when he told you that the energy in this place was so empowering because you’ve experienced it first hand.

As you and he work on your own respective projects side by side, he starts telling you about how he recently rewatched Romeo and Juliet. You listened intently, even if you already knew the story. But it was as he told it that you found yourself growing slightly emotional.

The story is something almost everyone is familiar with, whether they learned it in school or took it upon themselves to read it on their own time.

The story of two people loving each other so much and so hard that it kills them, because the mere thought of them not being alive to experience life with you, build a stronger love with you, makes nothing else feel worth it—it’s incredibly heartbreaking. And now that you have a boyfriend, the sentiment is much heavier. The thought of Rafayel dying, stirs a pain so uncomfortable in your chest that you know never, ever want to experience it.

“Hey,” he calls to you gently, noticing how dazed out you seemed. He sees the tears forming right above your waterline when you face him, and immediate concern is etched across his ethereal face.

“Let me guess? It makes you cry too?” he teases, gently rubbing your cheek and smearing a faint light blue paint on your skin. “I’m not ashamed to say that I succumb to the emotions every time myself. I don’t trust anyone who doesn’t.”

But when you don’t laugh, when your lower lip quivers the more you memorize his features like he’ll disappear, he began to realize this has become something he needs to take a little more seriously.

“Did I say something wrong?” he asks innocently, completely dumbfounded by your change in emotions.

“I’m so sorry,” you finally speak, your words fumbling out as you wipe the tears from your eyes. You feel embarrassed, but you know better than to feel that way around him. He always makes sure you know that embarrassment will never be a real thing between you two. Nothing is off-limits. “It just…the story. It makes me think of you—of us.”

He tilts his head, his soft purple hair swaying across his forehead. “Oh? What do you mean?”

You sigh, taking a deep breath as you get ready to lay your little heart out on the table like you’ve done for him dozens of times.

“Rafayel, I legitimately cannot lose you,” you emphasize, feeling your heart thump harder in your chest from intense emotions. Your voice is shaky as you continue. “And I know this is so random and I didn’t mean to make you telling me about your movie night into a whole thing, but the thought of me experiencing anything in this life without you makes me..sick. It would break me. It makes me realize that I have to be the first one to go the day our time on this Earth is up.”

He smiles softly as you, cupping your cheek in his hand. “Have you seen how I act when you take more than five extra minutes to come home?”

That makes you laugh, a joyous feeling sparking in your being. Most people dislike anyone who turns something serious into something lighthearted, but your Raf always has a way of making heavy situations and conversations feel weightless.

“But in all seriousness,” his face shifts to match his tone to let you know that he takes your worries and thoughts seriously. “I don’t want to hear you talk like that. Ever. You know why?” He stands from his stool, walking to stand between your leg where you sit. “Because we are never going to be apart. I’ve already told you before, you’re not allowed to leave me.” He winks, making the tension ease.

“I’d swim across every ocean for you a million times over. For a man like me to find and experience the love of someone more glorious than himself, it’s not a privilege I take for granted. I’ve always been Rafayel, but I can admit that I will always be a better him, with you beside me. You add too much value and good to my life for you to ever think that I could actually survive without you. I can deal with a lot, but a world with no you? That’s too harsh.”

He presses his forehead to yours. “You have nothing to worry about. I feel just as intensely as you do, pretty girl. I don’t want you thinking of what could be. Think of everything in between, yeah?”

He leans down to kiss your lips and you desperately cling to him. “You’ll never lose me and l’ll never lose you, fair?”

You chuckle, knowing that conversations like this make his heart hurt, too. Similarly to you, your boyfriend hates the idea of abandonment or being separated from you for any reason. He doesn’t take the idea of it lightly. But when he needs to be stronger for you, there’s nothing powerful enough to crush his will to protect your heart.

“Fair,” you nod with a smile.

“Good. I’m glad we understand each other.” He kisses your nose. “Now, why don’t we go for a walk on the beach? We can see about getting something sweet on the way.” He holds his hand out to you and when you slide your hand into his, you know that no matter what the further holds, thinking of what you have now will always be more important.

Xavier

You almost had a heart attack when the hospital called you to let you know that your boyfriend has been in a car accident. They assured you it wasn’t serious, but the only person you’ve ever loved and accident being in the same sentence, made you experience emotions you never thought you were capable of.

They said he couldn’t have called you himself since he was going through some tests and check ups, but not being able to hear his voice made you feel…insane.

When you ran into the hospital, begging for his name and room number, a nurse walked you to him with too much ease. You needed her to be faster, much faster.

“He’s right there. Room 410,” the lady politely smiles. You can’t bother with kindness, moving past her and rushing into the room. He’s sitting on a hospital bed, his blood pressure being checked by the doctor standing beside him.

“Hon,” he says with slightly wide eyes. “I guess the hospital called you.”

“Xavier, oh my god,” you cry, running towards him. You cup his face in your hands, running your eyes over him like your scan is better than a doctor’s. “Are you in pain? How’s your head? Your body?” His eyes stay on you the whole time as you examine him, the doctor chuckling softly beside you both.

All you smell is alcohol, rubber gloves, and oversaturated—but necessary—cleanliness. You don’t like him here. You don’t like it one bit.

“You’re free to go home,” the doctor confirms. “Just make sure you take the pain medicine if you need it. Other than that, nothing to worry about.”

When the doctor leaves, you finally weep. You thought the absolute worst. You thought you lost him.

“I was so scared,” you cry, resting your head on his shoulder as his hands comes to the back of your head to soothe you. “What happened?”

“The taxi I was taking to come see you…A car came out of nowhere down the intersection on a red light, and it was a hard collision against the backseat area where I sat. I saw it last minute before I was able to move, just barely.”

“Xavier… I..” you trail off, not even wanting to finish. “I can’t lose you, Xav. I would rather die than lose you.”

“You don’t mean that,” he says gently, his hand going down your back.

“I do. I can’t live without you. We can’t control how it ends, but however it does, you can never be the one to go first. I’ll never survive it.”

“And neither would I,” he asserts. “A life without you is a life I don’t care to have. Losing you is essentially the death of me.” It falls silent between you two as he makes you pull back to look at him.

“How about this? How about both of us make it a point to be present for as long as we can. Like you said, while we can’t control the end, we can control what our current reality is. And that’s you and I together, loving each other, being here for each other.”

You nod, melting into his touch as he wipes your stray tears. “Don’t say things like that though, okay? Even in extreme situations as concerning as this. I don’t like to think of anything happening to you just as much as you don’t like it for me. Your life is too important to me for you to say anything so drastic over yourself.”

“You’re right,” you sniffle, making it a point to kiss him again—this time extra hard. “I won’t, I swear. But YOU,” you point a finger at his chest. “You’re not allowed to leave the house for the next…forever!”

He smiles, kissing your hand then pulling you close again to kiss the side of your neck. “I’m sure you’ll make sure of that?”

You run your hand through his hair, giggling as he sporadically places kisses wherever his lips will land. “You can count on it.”

Caleb

You shot out of your sleep, your heart racing and your body dampened with a thin sheen of sweat. Cold wet tears fall down your cheeks and you quickly wipe them away, not liking how they feel on your skin. You blink tiredly in the dark bedroom, looking over to where Caleb is supposed to be. Not only was he not there, but it was cold when you placed your palm against the bed. He’s been gone awhile.

You had another nightmare. For some reason, they’ve been plaguing you more and more lately, their origin not making sense when the events occur in your sleep state. But this one, this was the worst by far.

The imagery of Caleb dead. Shot and killed. It replayed over and over until your mind finally won the right battle, letting you wake up to see your reality. But the fact that Caleb wasn’t beside you, it made you panic.

You threw the blankets back, put your slippers on, and exited the bedroom to search for him. You wouldn’t allow that dream to make you think it was real, that he was actually gone. You refused.

He wasn’t hard to find at all though, sitting in his hobby room, putting together another aircraft set he collected. He heard the door open, turning around to see you. He smiled widely, turning fully in his office chair. You didn’t waste a moment more, walking up to him briskly. He pressed his head to your stomach, kissing it tenderly before looking up at you.

“Why aren’t you in bed?” you question softly.

“Couldn’t sleep,” he shrugs. “Didn’t wanna wake you, so I just came to mess with this.” He sees the sadness on your face, the dewdrop tears that rested on your lashes that you didn’t wipe away when he looks up.

“You’ve been crying?” he stands immediately, ready to handle whatever has his girl in distress. “What happened?”

You try to smile the sadness away, but you see it all over again. You rest your forehead on his chest, your body shaking as you silently cry. You understand that it’s okay—normal, to be emotional about something like this, but you feel like no one will ever get it unless they’ve experienced it. His death… it felt so vivid. It makes your whole body ache.

“I had a nightmare,” you weep, trying to push it out. “That you died, Caleb. It felt so real…I had to make sure. And when you weren’t in bed I…”

“Oh, baby, I’m so sorry,” he whispers, kissing your head before wrapping his arms around you. You press your hands to his back, pressing close just to make sure he’s real.

“I’d die without you, Caleb. I wouldn’t be able to survive…” You choke on your sobs. “I’d rather it be me than you, every time. You don’t understand.”

“Never,” he says sharply, but not to cut. Just to make his point abundantly clear. “Death is never an option for you, do you understand me?” He’s stern, holding your face in his hands.

“I do understand what it’s like to love someone with your whole being, so much so that you can’t differentiate what’s you and what’s them because you’re so intertwined. It’s why I will never let you put me above you. Ever. Because you are what makes me. There is nothing for me if you’re gone.”

You only cry harder, trying to wipe the scene away from your brain and embrace this moment and all the good ones that’ll follow one day.

“I don’t want you to ever speak over yourself like that again. No matter what’s troubling you, causing you pain, rather than wishing it would happen in another way that would only bring you harm, just tell me about it so I can deal with the brunt of it. I’m meant to protect you, let me do that.”

You nod, letting him ease your overwhelming emotions. “I’m sorry,” you say meekly. “Can we go to bed, please? Together?”

“You don’t even need to ask. C’mon.”

He takes your hand, not pushing for details on the dream or the particulars. He’d never imagine making you relive something so traumatizing, even if it was fake. It was real enough to actually hurt you, and that was enough for him to make sure he comforts you to the best of his abilities because you in any type of pain is something he has always vowed to keep you safe from.

[tamzzz69]

Title: “Second Chance Skin”

The studio locker room smelled like sweat, cheap soap, and leather benches. Sunlight poured through the windows, casting long shadows on the tiled floor. Two shirtless guys stood in front of the mirrors, still catching their breath from the last scene.

But these weren’t really Jace Norman and Asher Angel.

Inside Jace’s body was Ezra — a ghost who’d been lost for years, now breathing again.

And inside Asher’s was Kian, another spirit, long forgotten but just as alive now.

Ezra ran his hands over the smooth muscles of Jace’s chest, eyes wide. “Bro, this is insane. Like, look at this,” he flexed lightly. “I’ve never felt a body like this before. It’s like walking art.”

Kian chuckled from the bench, towel around his neck, admiring Asher’s reflection. “Right? I was a twig back in the day, now I’m this... hunk. Feels kinda wild.”

Ezra turned, grinning. “Honestly? You look mad good. Like, I lowkey wanna steal you.”

Kian smirked, stepping closer. “If you’re trying to flirt, you’re killin’ it, man.”

Ezra shrugged, feeling heat creep up his neck. “We’re ghosts. Rules are kinda optional.”

They both laughed but kept glancing at each other in the mirror, noticing how good it felt to be seen like this—not as ghosts, but as real people with skin and muscles and breath.

“You ever think we’ll wanna keep this? Like... actually be them?” Ezra asked.

Kian smiled softly. “Honestly? I think I already do.”

They stood there, close enough to feel the warmth between them. Then, like something electric sparked in the air, Ezra leaned in slowly.

Kian met him halfway.

Their lips touched — soft at first, testing — then deeper, like they’d been holding back forever. The world faded, and it was just them. Two souls who had no business being alive again but found a heartbeat worth fighting for.

A couple weeks later, they were fully in the groove of living as Jace and Asher. They’d mastered the moves, the voices, the fans. Social media was a whole new playground.

One afternoon, Ezra (Jace) snapped a photo in the mirror, shirtless and dripping with water from a quick shower. He posted it on “Jace’s” Instagram with a cheeky caption:

“Who needs summer when you got these gains? #Blessed #NoFilter”

Within minutes, the likes and comments exploded.

Kian (Asher) smiled, pulling out his phone. “Bet I can top that.”

He went live on “Asher’s” Instagram, shirtless, flexing his biceps and joking around. “What’s good, guys? Just out here, keeping it real. Y’all better keep up or I’m stealing Jace’s spotlight.”

Then Ezra popped into the live, waving and grinning. “Yo, don’t listen to this dude, I’m the real deal.”

The fans went wild watching the two “stars” joke and tease each other on live cam — shirtless, laughing, vibing like best friends.

And behind the screens? Ezra and Kian kept stealing glances at each other, the line between pretend and real blurring with every smile and touch.

One night, after a long shoot, they found themselves alone again in the locker room. Shirtless, tired, but buzzing from the day.

Kian caught Ezra’s eye and said softly, “You feel this too, right? Like... this is more than just playing a role?”

Ezra nodded, heart pounding like never before. “Yeah. I think I’m falling for you. Like, for real.”

Kian smiled, stepping closer until their chests almost touched. “Me too.”

Without thinking, Ezra pulled Kian into a kiss that was rougher, urgent. They’d tried to hold back, but now the floodgates were open.

The kiss deepened, hands exploring, breath mingling. The locker room faded into nothing but the two of them — alive, shirtless, and finally free to be exactly who they wanted.

Months later, they weren’t ghosts anymore. They were Ezra and Kian, living in Jace and Asher’s bodies — and more in love than ever.

They had their whole new lives ahead of them.

And for the first time, it felt like home.

[scribbledlovenotes]

distracted. p.t.r

mdni. professor tom riddle. good grades. bad distractions. age-gap sex.

Months. For months you’ve trapped within the flickering candlelight of the libraries restricted section, parchment and quill in hand as you scribble down notes, pretending to care about the intricacies of advanced magical theory. It’s a ridiculous assignment for a stupid class and the only reason you’re even committed to finishing it is him. Your obsession. The one thing that causes your heart to race and forces your thighs to clench uncomfortably beneath your desk. Him. Professor Riddle. Potentially the one and only reason you returned back for your seventh year. You can’t get enough. Come to notice it; either can the other female students around you from the whispers you’ve heard them speak.

He’s forever tailored to perfection, the robes which drape over his lean frame as intoxicating as the silken menace of his voice as he discusses topics such as the ‘seduction of power linked to dark arts’ or your personal favourite, the ‘elegance of a well cast spell’, as if the words were a spell themselves. You’re hooked; lustful. He knows it, surely. Those dark, melted chocolate eyes of his catch yours just a little too often. Lingering with a heat that feels like what you presume legilimency would as he peels back the subtle layers of your restraint.

It was last Tuesday, after a lecture on the morality of the dark arts that left your head spinning that he stopped you as you gathered your textbooks and piled them neatly into your arms. His presence standing before you was polished yet predatory. Almost like a knifes blade wrapped in velvet. The curve of his smirk; stealing your breath.

 “I’d like to discuss a recent essay you submitted”, Professor Riddle explained, taking his time to fold a piece of parchment between his fingertips tat you couldn’t for the life of you, pull your gaze from. The simple movement almost ritualistic in practice. “Come to my office tomorrow evening. Any time after 6.”

Your heart lurched at the proposal; frantically thudding against the inside of your chest as you felt the back of your neck warm up with a scarlet style fever you’d potentially have to see a nurse about. Every sensible part of you knows that this is just a student-professor discussion. Nothing more, nothing less. However you can’t help but wonder. Should you agree, should you tell anyone, should you brag, should you mention something to your absolutely oblivious Hufflepuff boyfriend who you loved dearly but ugh – god, he was fucking useless when it came to feelings. Your wants. Desires. Needs.

“Of course, Professor”, you responded with a small smile; innocently tucking some hair behind your ear which you flicked up on and over the back of your shoulder. “Um, should I bring my boyfriend? He did help me with the paper. Perhaps he could learn something.”

The question came out as pure innocence whispered from between your gloss coated lips as you’re waiting, patiently to try and catch any look or expression that might give away a little more than what Professor Riddle already has; but the shadow in his eyes that transpires like a storm is gone in a blink, as his smile sharpens. A chuckle, rumbling just at the back of his throat. “Just you will suffice. I prefer… focused discussions.”

And with that; the air crackled as if there had been some kind of sudden declaration of a silent challenge.

This evening; the castle is as quiet as the fields of Scotland midwinter as you climb, step by step the stone staircase to Professor Riddle’s office. The air surrounding you on the way thickened by the scent of burning ensconces and a shimmer of magic which leads the way. You knock against the hard wood door before his voice commands you to enter. As the door creaks open, he’s revealed to be sitting behind a desk – quill in hand, grading papers as the roar of the fireplace lights up the office almost.. romantically.

Professor Riddle’s features are sharp. More so now than when you see him during class. He looks absolutely devastating in what he’s wearing; robes hooked up on a wall behind him, the crisp white shirt he’s wearing pulls to sit exactly as it should on his shoulders, sleeves rolled up to reveal forearms twilled with a quiet strength. You swallow harshly, eyes tracing up one particular vein that you notice beneath his skin almost poetically and he gestures to the chair across from him as you hesitate before taking a seat. The office’s intimacy – shelves of tomes, trinkets and artefacts on display in a curated yet chaotic fashion closing in like a charm you might just become.

“Your essay”, he begins, picking up the work almost delicately off a pile of others before he hands it to you, “…is bold. I’ll give you that. Yet your research clearly lacks precision.”

You gaze down at the essay; eyes taking in the corrections and question marks scattered over it in a dull, red ink – the grade scribbled into the top corner something you’re vaguely satisfied with but Professor Riddle is clearly not. You attempt to stammer out some kind of response; some knitted reply as an excuse for work you were actually content with, yet you notice from the corner of your eye the way he rises from his seat. His critique a pretence to a game you know you both shouldn’t be playing, yet as he circles around the desk, coming around to where you start, you can’t help but note that each step seems deliberate. Like a wolf closing in on a lamb or in this case, a snake on a mouse which is desperate to feast.

“You have potential”, he murmurs as his steps stop behind you. he’s standing close enough that you can feel his breath graze the back of your neck. “…but clearly you’re distracted.”

Your pulse hammers; skin beginning to gleam with a soft sweat that coats your brow and a thin line down the nape of your neck. You’re suddenly grateful that you never told your boyfriend about coming here; about this little meeting – just that you’d see him tonight, as always for a little alone time and well…

“I’m not”, you manage as a response. Words clear. “Distracted – that is.”

Professor Riddle’s hands find your shoulders as he scoffs a chuckle; running down to the small of your back, burning through your robes. He leans in; lips to your ear, his voice sounding like that of a velvet hex. As his fingers trace along the curve of your skin; slow – possessive, you feel a slick heat that you want to curse away blooming between the chaffing of your thighs.

“Aren’t you? Well..”, he gently guides you up onto your feet, pushing you forward so that you’re pressing against the edge of his desk as he cages you in, body warm pressed up against you. “I still think I’m right. You see that’s a perk to teaching. With a little experience, you begin to learn to read a classroom and see through masks that students prevail while hoping to fool you… and you dear, most definitely, are, distracted.”

A hand slips up beneath your skirt, finding the dampness of your underwear which his fingers push aside with ease and before you know it, both skilled and merciless; he parts your folds, a slick drag up towards your clit that rather quickly swells with need. It’s a blend of a gasp and a choke that escapes you. You lean forward; hands clawing at the wood of his desk and as his fingers continue to circle exactly where you need them, your body trembles; like a wanton secret of his to please.

What follows? That’s a blur. Professor Riddle twists you around; his mouth claiming yours in a kiss that’s bruising. One that tastes like a rich red wine. He manages to muffle your gasps with a firm hand as he undoes his belt with the other and before you know what you’re doing yourself, you shift back and lift onto his desk – lips parted; eyes glued to that wicked smirk he wears before they drop down to his waist, taking in full view of his cock; thick, glistening, that he pumps twice before pressing against your entrance with a friction and tease.

You shouldn’t have. You’re not meant to. Either way, you whisper a desperate ‘please’, and without any patience as what he’s known for, Professor Riddle shifts your thighs further apart to wrap lets around his waist as he fills you with a single deep thrust that takes your breath away. The office falls into silence. You fall back onto the desk. A bottle of ink is spilled. Papers go flying. You hear a quill crack beneath you but couldn’t care less. His thrusts are both torture and bliss. Each movement a revelation. It’s forbidden; it’s fucking perfect. Your thighs split further as he grasps at the soft flesh and you bite down on a knuckle to try and keep yourself quite; relishing the fact that he’s thorough and rough, satisfying. Not quite like your boyfriend.

You hear him spit; saliva hitting your clit which he draws out a series of wand motions you – you know them, they’re the unforgivables and yet you couldn’t care. Your cunt begins to clench around him. You claw a little further at his desk. The desk lamp gets knocked over; you hear the bulb shatter as you cry out a moan through gritted teeth and your back arches up as he spills out inside of you. A warmth flooding in but also dripping down your legs as he withdraws – the both of you breathless.

“Much improved”, he mutters, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear almost tenderly before he taps a teasing slap against your clit as a reminder of what’s just happened. It’s about a minute before you can stand. A minute before you make yourself look a little more decent that you just had been. A minute for your cheeks to swell down from a harsh red to a soft peachy pink and by this time, Professor Riddle has already returned to his seat.

“Same time next week. We can discuss any course work you might be struggling with.”

Is that an offer, or a request? You fix your hair; running your hands through it before you lick your lips and nod. Unable to shake the feeling of what’s just happened.

“You’re an exceptional student. Just – don’t get distracted.  Wouldn’t want you being dissatisfied; it’s a shame about the boyfriend.”

Ugh – that prick. He’d been inside your head the whole time.

“Yes Professor”, you respond as you make your way towards the door to exit; making a mental note to keep this little rendezvous to yourself forever and ever and e—

“Tom.” He corrects you. “Professor Riddle is merely a formality we must maintain within the classroom.”

Fuck. Why’d he have to wait until seventh year.

[substantial-exposure]

Not Shaving Cream

Rick Grimes x OC

Summary: After he shaves once they're in Alexandria, Rick has his girlfriend sit on his face and reap the benefits.

Warnings: Smut, 18+ MDNI, Swearing, making out, face-sitting, brief non con (if you squint), slight dacryphilia?, idk man

Wet feet padded along the floors of the house as they entered the master bedroom. After weeks spent crawling and scavenging in the woods, a nice hot shower was much deserved and well needed.

Rick ran a hand over his chin and jaw, getting used to the feeling of smooth skin. As he pulled his hand away he noticed multiple pinprick small dots of red on his hand as well as one rather large one. He'd cut himself once or twice from the look of it.

As the man looked up, he noticed his minx of a lover staring at him with a devious look in her eyes. Personally, he couldn't barely bring himself to look past it. Although Rick did think that she looked great. Tulip stood in front of a mirror with damp hair and fresh clean clothes.

In his eyes, she looked like she was glowing. It wasn't far off from the truth. Weeks worth of dirt and soot were washed away and finally Tulip felt like she could breathe.

Tulip stared at him and it was like her jaw had hit the floor. She closed her mouth to try and hide the shock. Instead she walked up to him, smiling wide and unabashedly. Her fingers reached out for his face, his skin was smooth. Her fingers running over his jaw and chin as she inspected him.

"I almost forgot what you looked like under all that." She cooed happily. Tulip walked right up to him, admiring the freshly shaven face of the man she adored. Her hands wound themselves behind his neck, pulling him down for a surprisingly tender kiss.

Rick stood there in nothing but a towel as his hands landed on her waist. He smiled against her lips. "Think I nicked myself a few times." He said laughing off his mishaps. It had been a long time since he'd actually used a fresh razor.

He leaned down and pressed his lips to hers once more. Rick could happily say he was getting used to this, to the affection, that is. Both the giving and the receiving. He almost forgot what it was like to be vulnerable. To be loved and to be seen and not have every conversation be a battle. He didn't need the complications and the worry and stress. Rick was slowly learning that he just needed the companionship. It took him a long while to figure it out. But right now, right here, in between her kiss and her breath against him, Rick figured out just what he needed.

Tulips kisses had turned from loving pecks to full on loving. From there, Ricks fingers tightened around her waist. He pulled her in closer as their kisses deepened and grew hungrier. He already knew where this was heading, he didn't mind one bit.

His point was proven right when he felt one of her hands snake down from behind his neck down his chest. Slender fingers traveled towards his naval and right up to where his towel was folded in and bunched. It had been the only thing keeping him decent. His eyes had shot open and he could feel his cock stirring near instantly. It had been far too long for his preference.

Tulip knew they'd be here sooner or later. There were walls around them. There was a roof. There was a bedroom door that locked. The only other factor she needed was that Rick was standing there looking like he did. A girl can only hold out for so long.

"I missed you." Tulips words were mumbled between kisses. She could feel strong eager hands run up her sides and start pulling her shirt over her head.

Rick pulled back smiling, taking her shirt and tossing it to the floor. "Missed me?" He asked her. "You just saw me ten minutes ago" he chided. His eyes lowered to look at the bra she was wearing. His breath caught in his throat, that was new too.

His hands moved to the buttons of her jeans, he was tugging them down before he'd even gotten a proper look at them. They had a moment alone, they had an actual bed, what else did he need?

He had been leaning down to help his girl finish removing her clothes when his towel fell. His head picked up, looking up at Tulip who was biting back a giggle as she held the towel in one of her hands. Rick brushed it off with a smile. God he hadn't smiled like this in weeks. He didn't have a reason to ever since the church.

"C'mere baby." Rick's voice dragged out lowly. His hands wrapped around her, holding her close and letting his hands wander around clean exposed skin. He was half hard just letting his fingers graze over the fabric of her bra. He left his hands planted on her hips. This was a sight he hadn't seen before. Seeing Tulip in a matching set made him wonder if hell had finally frozen over. "Could get used to this." He said to her.

Tulip held onto him by the back of his triceps and tried to lean up slightly. Thankfully he got the message and he was leaning down to kiss her once again. Their lips didn't part, they each held onto the other desperately. Their lips danced and their tongues began to hesitantly mingle. It had been so long since they'd done this properly.

Rick let his hands wander everywhere, groping and grabbing, kissing and kneading, he needed every part of her. He couldn't decide what he wanted first. He took one last look at her fully in the matching pink velvet set. It was pretty in and of itself . It looked even prettier on her. In the back of his mind he wondered if it would look even better on the floor.

His fingers slipped down the front of her panties. Rick was surprised to find out that she'd already shaved as well. But as his hand ventured further he found the growing wetness that resided between her thighs.

Tulip let out a gasp, her hand holding onto his forearm as he practically inspected her. It was almost demeaning. But still, she'd be lying if she said it didn't get her going.

"Baby.." she whined, gasping slightly and feeling as he played with her folds and teased her clit. It had been so long it was overstimulating. It was so much at once she almost couldn't process it.

"Yeah, sweetheart?" He asked her. "What's wrong?" Rick asked her. He removed his fingers from her panties and brought his slick covered fingers into view. Rick contemplated tasting her himself but his eyes went wide at the idea. His smirk spread in the blink of an eye, his next idea had him antsy.

"Open up." He said. Rick held out his fingers and he watched as Tulip opened her mouth. He smiled proudly in response, she was always so good at following his instructions. He raised his other hand to cup the side of her face, silent praise as he had his fun.

The man eased one of his fingers into her mouth and let it press down against her tongue. He could practically feel her salivating around his one finger, so naturally he added in the second. Rick watched the way she let her lips close around them.

He felt his dick throb. His eyes were entranced on her lips and the way they wrapped around his fingers. After a few more seconds he removed them from the girls mouth. Rick let out a breath he didn't even know he was holding. He raised them to his own now, the taste of her faint. Her saliva and slick mixed together and hitting his own tongue.

Tulip stared up at him now, her pupils expanding and shrinking and expanding again with every breath and heartbeat. The woman was reaching up and throwing her arms around his shoulders quickly, she pulled him down with a force that left him stumbling. Her lips smashed into his, there was no reason for him to tease like this. To leave such filthy images in her mind.

Rick planted his hands on her waist and let his fingers slide beneath the fabric of her underwear. He didn't stop urging them down until they were pooled at her ankles.

"I missed this." He muttered against her lips. Every second they paused for breath, Rick was right back pulling her closer. He had officially decided he needed her more than required air. He'd let the kiss last up until he was nearly gasping for air. He was too preoccupied trying to bully his tongue into her mouth and pull her almost completely bare frame into him.

Tulips hand dropped and trailed the side of his thigh inwards. Her hand wrapped around his length, he was hard and heavy in her palm. She slowly twisted her wrist while giving his cock an experimental tug. Tulip watched the big scary man that Rick had become crumble in front of her. He melted into her touch, hovering over her and slumping down to meet her.

He groaned into the open air and he shuddered. There weren't many things that got Rick weak in the knees. He liked things done his way, he was the man in charge, he liked to be in control of things. But there were times when he liked to turn his brain off. Times like when his girlfriend was grabbing him by the dick and smiling like the devil that made him ease up on the reigns. He'd never fully give them up, not a chance but sometimes he needed this.

Rick didn't need every time they were intimate to be some elaborate thing. He didn't need the dirty talk or the shameless filth they chose to enjoy in each other. The only thing Rick needed was the intimacy and cherished love he held for her. All he cared about was that his lover was well taken care of. Whether it be physically, like the way he protected her whenever a situation arose. Or emotionally, when the nights were long and the exhaustion left her too tired for tears. Sexually, when the fire inside her couldn't be dulled by anything other than him. Rick would give her whatever she needed, however she needed it. But right now, he just wanted to make sure she was well taken care of in every sense of the word.

Tulips voice wasn't hesitant, but her voice wavered. "Wanna ride you." She croaked, still gasping for breath as desperate eyes looked up at him.

"Yeah?" Rick asked her, his hands grazing over the front of her bralette top. The fuzzy velvet was pretty but not all too practical. He didn't care too much at the moment. He reached his hands behind her back and unclipped it.

"Yeah."

Rick knew exactly what that meant. Tulip never asked to ride him. She was asking if she could tease him until he lost it. Every time she asked it would result in the same thing, she'd roll her hips until she just had his tip securely inside her. She would go even further as to pull him out completely and leave the dripping tip of his cock just against her and slowly sink down on just the tip. Tulips definition of riding him more often than not resulted in teasing him until he was bending her over and splitting her open.

He moved himself to sit up on the bed. That was until he actually laid down on it . Rick splayed himself out on the bed, it'd been the first time he'd actually properly laid on it. He propped himself up on an elbow and watched as the woman hurriedly moved to join him. The bed dipped slightly as she climbed on and went to swing her leg over him. She straddled him a little further up his stomach than she'd originally intended.

It was like a lightbulb went off above Ricks head. No, if she wanted to tease, he could do much worse. As Tulip tried to move further back down, trying to bring his cock closer to her, Rick stopped her.

"Wait-" he blurted out. His hands were grabbing her sides and pulling her further up towards his chest. The man was certain he was flushed. "I got an idea, sweetheart." He confessed. Rick looked up at her, he wet his lips before speaking. "How'd you feel about sittin' on my face?" He asked her.

Tulip felt her cunt pulse near instantly.

Rick could only describe the look on her face as unsure. She always looked shy at first, but he learned what that look behind her eyes meant a long time ago. He would swear sometimes it was just an act. Tulip would hit him with those wide doe eyes and the next thing he knew she was giving it her all. No matter how timid she'd appear, he was starting to not believe her. He moved further down the bed and guided her into a comfortable position over him. His hands now wrapped behind her thighs, giving him the perfect hold to move her and hold her down.

While she'd yet to fully relax and let herself actually sit down, Rick was inches away from her sex. He held her thighs apart still, using his hold to drag her closer. Up until his tongue could finally reach her and he could set to work.

He listened to her gasp. The initial reaction had him in anticipation. Who knew how long it had actually been since she'd been touched properly. Rick pulled her down further, while silently urging her sit completely he licked a flat stripe up her center.

There was a hand buried in the man's hair almost instantly.

Tulip let one hand lay on his chest to balance herself. Her other hand held the top of his head, her fingers running through his hair and grabbing onto it. Her mouth opened and refused to close as she gasped out at the feeling. Her hips rocked down towards his mouth, desperate to feel his tongue again.

The feel of it all was so different somehow. She'd grown so used to the scratch of his facial hair. After all she hadn't seen him clean shaven since the day she met him. However Tulip didn't sit and think about it for long. Not once he set himself to the task like a man starved.

Rick used his grip on her thighs to hold them apart. As he finally started, her hips moved involuntary. Naturally he made sure to hold her in place he was getting closer to actually achieving his desired goal. In a show of dominance and strength, Rick hiked her up closer, compelling her to stop hovering and let him get to work already.

His tongue laps at her already swollen pussy. Something about the sight above him has him doubling his efforts already. To see her so at ease and so relaxed made him proud. He knew he'd feel even better about himself when he made her cum though. His nose budged slightly as he moved.

Years ago Rick would never have seen himself as such a messy eater. Then again he couldn't say he'd ever had a woman whose pussy leaked after almost every conversation with him. The man's tongue would slip inside her as far as he could manage, hell he'd pull her closer trying to get deeper. That was usually when she'd almost hyperventilate.

Her hold on his hair was tight as she rolled and rocked her hips, craving less and more at the same time. It was starting to be too much. The way he'd groan and his own hips would sputter. His cock was lying over his stomach, dribbling precum over himself as Rick's attention was solely on her.

Tulip was gasping for breath. Unable to catch it as the man worked her over. His lips moved further up her pussy until he was sucking on her clit, the sensation had her shaking. She didn't know what to do, what to hold onto, she wanted to scream and cry from the sheer force of it.

"Its... s' too much" she whined , her thighs shaking and trembling on each side of his head and in his hands. "Rick" she moaned out his name, placing her hands behind her and down onto his chest. She tried to push herself up slightly, trying to put some distance between them.

Rick wasn't having it. He pulled her right back down. It might have been his favorite thing. She never learned this. For some reason Tulip always thought she could fight him, that she was stronger than him and could get away. She'd yet to have a single attempt that made it past him. His hands held her securely and yanked her right back to where she had been. He subjected her to more of the overwhelming pussy numbing stimulation she'd been trying to escape from to begin with.

Her whines were frantic and drastic. Her hips didn't stop moving and Tulips hands scratched at his chest and stomach. She was trying to grab onto him somewhere, she needed something to hold onto. Maybe it wasn't ethical but when she got to this point, it only made Rick want her more. The look on her face, the desperation.

"Baby." She pleaded. Tulip raised her head and she faced the ceiling while her eyes fluttered to a close once again. Her dark hair cascading down her back as she continued to rock her hips against the man's eager tongue. "Fuck I can't take it... please" she begged. Her voice was pouty and her bottom lip trembled. She was about to start crying. This was his favorite fucking part.

The woman above him was short of breath, with her cunt pulsing, and her heartbeat racing. A harsh bite was placed to her thigh, one that would bruise and occupy her thoughts for the foreseeable future. The pleasure ceased for a minute but Rick offered no time to rest.

"Sweetheart." He groaned before teasing yet another nibble over the now sensitive skin on her thigh. "I'll stop eating when I'm damn well ready." He told her. Rick could feel how wet his lips and chin were now. It was another thing that seemed to fill him with pride.

As he dove back into his meal perfectly served up above him, he was salivating. He could taste her everywhere inside his mouth. In every crevice and every nook and cranny, he could fucking taste her. He could feel her on his breath and he refused to be believe for a second that she wasn't enjoying it. Judging by the way she immediately went back to rocking herself back over his mouth and riding his face like a rodeo, Rick was rather proud of himself. She could bitch and moan about how it was 'too much' for her all she wanted, but the way she held onto his hair, whined his name, and the tears that were welling up in her waterline told him all he needed to know.

Rick wiped at his forehead. The sweat that gathered there wasn't surprising, his aching cock had been so sensitive it took a lot of his energy just to not cum untouched. Truthfully he hadn't been inside her more than a few minutes before he'd spilled himself out into a towel beside the bed.

He'd spent so much time building up his stamina all that time ago and he was back to square one.

But the knocking at the front door of the house was repetitive and urgent. In fact it had Rick rushing to throw on his pants and go get it to stop already.

Tulip was still at the bedside, looking for where she'd thrown the ratty old inhaler that Daryl had managed to snag for her some time ago. It was nearly empty. Her undergarments were back on and her shirt had been thrown over them carelessly. As Tulip was missing her pants, Rick was missing his shirt. He was already making his way out the bedroom door towards the entrance of the house.

Rough and tired hands wrapped around the door handle and yanked it open. He could see a woman through the glass. What could possibly be so goddamn important?

He stood face to face with the woman. Rick blinked rather confused as he looked her over. The woman was holding a large storage container in her hands.

Rick carefully took a step back. He put space between himself and the stranger, he didn't trust these people. Not yet anyway.

"Hey." The blonde woman said with her best welcoming smile. "I work in the pantry. Deanna asked me to bring these over for you and your friends." She told him whilst holding the container out to him.

Rick grabbed it and looked it over. It was a variety of things, it was food, dish soap, paper towels, random stuff and some essentials. He held it in arms loosely. This was so awkward. "Thank you.." he told her nodding along. Rick licked over his lips, he could still taste it on his lips and all through his mouth. He swallowed deeply. "We were ugh, just cleaning up." He told the woman.

"I see that." The woman stated. She gestured to the side of his face. "I think you still have shaving cream or something on your chin there." She chuckled looking at him.

Rick froze for a second and secured the container with one hand and held it against his side. It was a rather dangerous feat but he freed his one hand to wipe at the side of his face. That definitely was not shaving cream.

I was 'bullied' into posting this. This is my contribution to the fandom 🫶🏻

[gay-dorito-dust]

Imagine being Bob's s/o who says overdramatic shit on the daily (like "why has god forsaken me" or "i require substinance") and accidentally infect Bob with it

For example:

Walker was bitching about Bob being a lil useless and not going on missions, so bob hits him with the

Bob: Thine presence here is makes everyone feel abyssmal

Walker cannot even be mad, Ava is stealing that one, everyone is proud

I went a little mad here but I couldn’t pass it up.

Bob can be a little dramatic himself, this I firmly believe with my whole heart.

Your dramatic sayings were funny enough with how you’d rest your head upon his shoulder, causing him to look up from his book to address you with a soft: ‘are you okay there?’

You’d hit him with; ‘I have been in a turmentulohus battle with my bedsheets for the past ten minutes, it was awful, nasty brutal that I even got an injury from it.’ You then shove your arm in front of him to show the bruise your got from falling out of bed when the bedsheets got tangled with your feet.

Bob plays along as he’s gentle with his hold on your arm, kissing your bruise, muttering: ‘you fought valiantly my love, the win is yours and this bruise is merely a sign of such a victory as will the many more you shall bear in the future.’ Your dramatics have rubbed off on him a while back and now he couldn’t help but indulge in those said dramatics of yours, as it was one of the only things that truly felt like your own little thing as a couple, something that was made special when only you two did it as though it was a kind of love language you made all by yourself and Bob wanted to reciprocate it back to you.

There was multiple times where you’d walk over to him or crawl under his sweater, claiming that the ‘light was threatening your mere existence by being a shade brighter then it was yesterday,’ as you took respite against his chest and leeching off of his warmth. Or like the time where you came back from a mission, rushing into his arms, proclaiming to the others that ‘your reunion with your lover was long overdue, never wanting to part from his side ever again even if it was by the will of god themselves, willing to fight such a higher being if it meant being held and loved so gently by a man of such kindness and compassion such as him.’ His face was red as cherries but the smile upon his face didn’t lie as he tried to calm his heart before it bursts from his chest.

Yet the one time Bob had used such dramatic language was when John was talking out of his ass and needed to be humbled somewhat. So when the opportunity arrived where he could say something, Bob said: ‘does the sound of one’s voice must permeate the peaceful silence, a silence so peaceful of which was pre established before one’s distrustful presence was introduced? No? Then silence must be restored to it’s rightful place.’

You were proud as fuck hearing Bob put John in his place, finding it hot as fuck, while the others were struggling to understand what had just happened. Did…did Bob really did that? Was this your influence rubbing off on him? And why did it sound cool and eloquent yet sounding so brutal and humbling at the same time?

John’s still trying to comprehend it all.

Ava is definitely going to use such language against John from now on.

Yelena is just proud and smirking at John’s expression.

Alexei is laughing loudly, equally proud of Bob for stunning John into silence.

And you were just staring at Bob with love and adoration in your eyes, happy for him in verbally handing John his ass on a platter, planning to smother him in celebratory kisses later when you both went back to your room. He deserves that at the very least.

[lokavisi]

I know I've had my struggles with this. I think if you grew up in a certain brand of Christianity like I did, where you were taught that Jesus/God/the Church, etc. should be Everything™️ to you; it's easy to feel like our devotion and relationship to deity needs to be very visible and apparent in all facets of our lives. And not just being present, but being the entire focus of all aspects of your life.

Inviting Loki and other deities into the life I'm already living has been so much more rewarding and healthy for me mentally and emotionally. It can be hard to remember sometimes because of my upbringing, but it is much simpler to invite Loki to join me on my daily commute than to go out of my way to forego social obligations or community bonding that I would otherwise benefit from just to spend time with them. Restructuring my life to focus on them deprives me of so much of life that Loki has repeatedly told me to live. So it would contradict our work together, which makes doing that seem all the more bizarre.

I also feel like it makes the relationship more reciprocal. When thinking about the gifting cycle and hospitality, both core values in Heathenry, it feels better to be yourself and share that with them than become something you're not in an effort to please them. I feel like the more authentic you are with them, the more authentic they will be with you. Your relationship with them, like all others, is a two-way street that works best when everyone is honest and true to themselves.

Just my thoughts and opinions on the matter. I hope I didn't stray too far from OP's intended message. 😅

you know, something i've been thinking about recently is identity in relation to worship and devotion.

so often i see people rearranging their entire lives to accommodate what they think a devotee should look like. but i've always thought, isn't it so much more meaningful to incorporate your deities into who you are?

i have so many interests that have nothing to do with my deities. my main hobby/interest that i spend most of my time and money on doesn't involve paganism at all. i work with loki and freyja, yet my room and the area around my altar are filled with pastel pinks/blues and the walls are covered with posters.

i wanted to make bracelets for both of them that i could wear everyday, and so i coordinated palettes for both of them that fit with my usual wardrobe. i had some alone time at home the other day, and instead of using it to sit at my altar and do some typical divination (that i would normally do), i decided to light their candles while i had a dance party.

everyone's practice is their own, and i encourage you to do what's comfortable for you. if that means revolving a lot of your life around your deities, i totally respect that! but i also think there's beauty in balancing other things with your devotion, and maybe letting your gods into it too. letting them know that they matter to you and you want them to be part of it. that you'll carve out a space for them, no matter what it is.

[absolutebl]

When it comes to problematic content in QL, everyone has different tolerance levels, and different definitions for it. For you personally, how much is too much? And given that some of your faves/constant rewatches may not have aged well, do you adjust your tolerance as you go, do you just ignore it/tune it out, or do you watch, cringe, and carry on? Does problematic content make you lose love for something with time?

Hum, complex question.

I guess it's usually context and origin for me. Like I forgive Japan stuff I won't take from Thailand because it's... Japan, kinky and boundary pushing is what they do. I don't always like it, but I will usually watch it. I understand their POV and style. And more importantly, so do they.

Certainly that has to do with how well established Japan is both in BL and as a film industry. But there's something more going on. They usually have something to say when they trigger, something thoughtful and provoking about culture, or queerness, or the BL genre.

Where as Thailand doing something similar will come off as clumsy and puerile, like they are teens who don't know any better and are just poking at their audience to see what kind of reaction they get. Or worse, don't even realize when they make a misstep - they just needed it for plot or are executing a tired trope.

I want finesse with my abuse!

I don't mind being manipulated, but I can't catch it in the act. I need to notice it after, and then I make tiny clapping noises.

For me too much is often when it's too predictable in the wrong way, or when it's poorly executed. Like rape just for a plot point. Or lack of consent when it makes no sense for either character or story arc.

I don't like it when poor writing hits me up side the head. Like (and I will harp on this forever) did he have to steal that key and break into his hotel room? Did we all have to overlook it and think, for some reason, that was okay? It wasn't necessary for the plot. It was lazy writing.

I hate lazy writing.

I'd rather bad writing.

How do I put this?

If Japan had done that, it would have been some weird creepy edgy stalker aspect to the seme's character and it would have been purposeful. The dirtiness of it would have been part of characterization. Undies would have been stolen. The lens would have told us to find it off-putting. It would have been done with intent.

Thailand's lens often makes bad/stalker/creep behavior seem normal or acceptable.

If Japan reads your private journal we, the audience, will all know how gross that feels. The grossness will be part of the creepy kinky plot. If Thailand does it... it's just passed over as fine. Or worse, romantic.

Japan does its violations with intent. Because they like the edge. They want to make us a little bit uncomfortable... at all times.

Thailand does it with a blunt butter knife and expects us to overlook a character flaw.

Back to your question...

So given it's a BL producing country that I know is clumsy about this (like Thailand) sometimes I notice and get annoyed, and sometimes I sigh and it doesn't bother me. Often that has to do with my mood. Sometimes it's the chaos of the show. Like with say Pit Babe, or The Sign, eventually I'm just overwhelmed by the absurd crazy of it all. Probably because they clearly aren't taking themselves seriously, the whole darn show: cast, crew, production, everybody.

Sometimes the violation in question is simply not a trigger for me so I don't mind.

Sometimes it reads as a kink and then I kinda like it (Taiwan will do this a lot).

Sometimes I don't even notice.

Yes, certainly I have dropped show or moved on from rewatching older stuff because now it bothered me, where once it did not (cough cough TharnType).

But others I still understand (if not love) because they say something about the time they were made and what the genre was then, like Takumi-kun.

Some stuff I loved so much when it first aired and still love with such nostalgia that I don't really see its flaws. UWMA is likely one of those. It's always great to me, even on rewatch, even after 810 other shows.

But I think UWMA might not be great to someone who started watching BL in 2022 or comes to the genre out of Korean BL, for example.

Does problematic content make you lose love for something with time?

Sometimes but not always.

It's all in the nuance, I guess. Mine, what I bring to the show, my willingness to understand its origin and forgive it its sins, but also the show's nuance and its execution of story.

(source)

[the-kr8tor]

Thinking of minotaur Hobie yet again because the last fic made me sad and it's forever stuck in my little heart

Spoilers for minotaur Hobie fic if y'all haven't read Katy ripping everyone's heart out😔

I love to imagine minotaur Hobie very curious about the things he's never seen or heard of: a market? He would love to go, he worries that he might be a bit too big to fit or that he'll scare the merchants but he just wants to learn. He wants to hold your hand and go see people play music in the square the way you've described it to him.

If and when that happens (HE NEVER LEFT, HE'S ALRIGHT THEY'RE BOTH ALRIGHT, NO FALL, THEY ACTUALLY JUST GOT A SLIGHT BUMP ON THE HEAD AND CONTINUED BEING IN LOVE AND THE ARROWS WERE FAKE DAMN IT) he stays near you, sticking to your side in an incredibly shy manner. Just watching in awe as you keep him close to you and braid his hair out of his face, letting him enjoy the peace amongst men that he's been seeking his whole life. His place is found, the people around him no longer regard him meanly except from a few odd or angry stares. But does that matter when he's finally around others? When you tug at his hand and laugh it reminds him of what he hadn't had as a child, a small docile creature of the earth, of a mother he never knew. He knew this was somehow all he ever wanted, they did not have to love him for him to feel loved. He smiled softly, tears forming in his eyes as he danced with you. So careful of your form, gentle hands and tender stares all for you. The same way you treat him, an equal and a tender new formed and founded love. He did not need to understand love if you were with him, to him you might as well have been love itself. Grandiose in the smallest of ways.

He would demand, although politely, for you to help him learn how to read and write. He wanted nothing more than to understand the world around him, to flirt with words the same manner poets do. To read, just as the great scientists and philosophers do. He wished to be man. The truth to you was that he was more of a man than anyone else in the land, more human than the people who took your wings, more human than the people who kept him in the forsaken labyrinth. So learning, he would. He would drink up your words, ambrosia to his senses every time you'd excitedly praise him for doing well. He caught on quick, he'd survive. So would you, he'd read to you once he was finally comfortable enough to do so. Carefully threading his fingers in your hair while reading in the softest voice he could manage for you as you rested in his lap, the birds humming their morning tune.

-🪦 the denial....

MINOTAUR! HOBIE MY BELOVED YOU DESERVE BETTER (I say as if I didn't give them that ending 😂😂)

AHHH IF YOU HAVEN'T READ THAT FIC YET PLEASE DO!!!!!!

Oh goodness 🥺🥺🥹 I can just imagine him staring at a seashell curiously with his big brown eyes and r wishes that she could draw like the master artists of their time to preserve that moment

HE WOULD BE SO HAPPY TO BE AROUND PEOPLE AND NEW THINGS HE HAS NEVER SEEN BEFORE 😭😭😭😭😭😭 But alas the fates didn't give them what they wanted

Sure... Sureeee there's so fall they just tumbled over a puddle and the arrows were just nerf darts 😆

GAHHHHH he would be so careful and tender with you like every touch would be gentle and every word he says to you would be soft and full of love 😭 they'd have a love that even Aphrodite herself would envy 😭🥹

HIM LEARNING HOW TO READ AND WRITE AND R TEACHING HIM PATIENTLY WOXNKWNXIWNS like i can imagine them doing that in the middle of a flower field next to the hut they made themselves as their new home 🥺

Anyway i love u minotaur hobie

[calebslittlecrow]

Your Shifts Are Valid, Even The "Mini" Ones

Let's start with this, before I change my mind about being motivational for once: Your. Shifts. Are. Valid. Even if you only stayed for 30 seconds before you yeeted yourself back into your CR as if you saw taxes approaching at a rapid pace. Even if you couldn't make out the thread count of your DR sheets or recall what your carpet tasted like. Still counts. Still real. No refund needed. Before someone jumps in ready to fight: no, this isn't about people who say "mini shifts don't count for me personally, but I respect them for others". That's none of my business, go and do your thing ^-^ This is about the people who feel the need to barge uninvited into posts celebrating a mini shift and drop gems like: -> "It only counts if you stayed longer than a month" -> "You're not a real shifter if you only mini shifted" If, even for just a moment, you find yourself in your DR or another reality, saw your DR bedroom, smelled it, heard it, all of that, congrats buttercup, you shifted. You did it. You touched another reality. Just because you got startled, distracted or kicked yourself back by your own surprise doesn't mean it's invalid. Feels like shit, but it happens. The mechanics on how to do it? Still worked. The duration? Irrelevant The validation? Yours alone. Look at it this way: If a kid hops on a bike without training wheels for the first time, wobbles forward three meters, before crashing into the next hedge available, would you lean over them and tell them to their dirt covered little face: "Well, that didn't count because it was under 5 meters". Probably not, right? Unless you want to make kids cry. So why are we holding ourselves and others to those high arbitrary standards when it comes to shifting? Because some people are insecure? Because gatekeeping makes some people feel important? Because projecting their own failures onto others is easier than doing the inner work themselves? Maybe. Possible. Not really my problem. What ruffles my feathers is watching people share their excitment about a mini shift, all wide-eyed and buzzing with happiness, only to be told by some twat that it isn't valid because "it was under a month, so it doesn't count." And most of the time it comes from people who haven't even shifted themselves. From people who need others to fail too to feel better. Shifting isn't a sport, we have no leaderboard. No ones is handing out trophies for "who stayed the longest". This isn't a speedrun and sure as shit there is no reason to be a twat online over what people consider mini shifts. Stop comparing yourself to others, stop downplaying what you have accomplished and stop letting people tell you what counts as a shift and what not. Those five seconds are a lot more than what those people have managed. So celebrate it! Brag about it, be happy, you licked the multiverse and it looked awkwardly back. That is not nothing, that is everything.