#this is giving me a happy chemical boost

[dailydegurechaff]

I wanted to know how do you interpret Tanya's gender. After reading chapter 58 of the manga i got the impression that she is definitely trans coded, but maybe thats just me

Very good question.

To be honest, when I think too hard about Tanya’s gender (and sexuality, for that matter) it gives me brain worms. Fun brain worms, but brain worms nonetheless. I can’t explain it. Everything she’s got going on is complicated as shit there’s way too much to think about.

Like, she was a man, but now she's a girl. But at some points she says she still sees herself as a man internally so is this MtFtM? How does that work. And if she accepts she's a woman now, is that just MtF or do we add more letters. More importantly: Was Being X being Transphobic or being the Greatest Trans Ally of All Time with the free divinely issued sex change.

Ok ok, jokes aside. Confession: I actually do not keep up with the manga, so I had to go find the chapter and read it first. Having read it now though, I see what you mean.

The conversation she has with the Salaryman/herself in that chapter really does read as essentially saying “I’ve accepted who I am now.” It’s a far cry from a much earlier part of the manga I remember where she has a breakdown about being a man/people seeing her as a girl.

A friend of mine was actually showing me stuff from more recent chapters of the manga (don’t know which chapter tragically, but I know it’s not currently translated to English) and from what I gathered of it, Being X was showing Tanya a dream of being back in her past life and in response she basically demanded to go back to being Tanya immediately. It is definitely not just you, I 100% see the trans-coding you’re talking about.

As for my personal interpretation of her gender, I touched very briefly on it once before, but I honestly think she wouldn’t want to label herself as anything. At first, this is out of hesitance and not wanting to acknowledge that anything might be ““wrong”” or ““different”” about her. Later on it turns into character growth, more along the lines of, “I don’t need the label to define me, I just am what I am/like what I like. I don’t care about it any more than that.” Yes this is 100% projection on my part. No, I won’t apologize for it lmao.

Of course, that's entirely my own headcanon. I definitely am not saying it’s the only way to interpret her, it’s just my personal thoughts. Especially since my opinion is subject to change on a dime depending on what I’m reading/working on myself. The Tanya gender is, in fact, transient, shifting like water.

Like. A transfem Tanya fic that focuses on her adapting to life in her new world and coming to discover she doesn’t actually hate her new body? I’d totally read that. I’ve seen a few fics that include that as a part of the narrative and those scenes of acceptance were among my favorite parts.

I get the feeling this is the route that the manga is going as well. It’s a bit of a shame that we don't have those aforementioned scenes in the light novel (or at least, I don't remember them), but I don’t think that Carlo Zen really intended that to be the focus/narrative in the first place. And honestly, I also think that’s a good thing because it allows for so much more room for interpretation and headcanon around Tanya’s character.

Anyway, the other direction is also compelling to me. A transmasc Tanya fic where, after feeling uncomfortable and hating how feminine he looks for years and years, he finally goes ‘Fuck this, I’m gonna go back to being a man’? I would read the fuck out of that too.

Could also be paired with him finally choosing to defect, where they think about it like, ‘Well there’s nothing to hold me back now, right? I don’t have to maintain appearances anymore. Also, since I’m defecting this would be a great way to hide myself. They’d all be looking for the wrong person. Two birds with one stone, how efficient.’ …Now we’re getting to fic ideas I won’t ever get to so it’s time to move on I think.

Semi-related to the Trans Tanya Concept, this actually brings me to a bit of a lore/headcanon/idea/question I want to present to the public for opinions. In Norden, during the inciting battle of the war, Tanya uses magic to “dope up” so she could enhance her strength and reaction time and kill pain. I took this to mean she used a formula to synthesize the narcotics/adrenaline hormone/whatever else directly into herself, right?

Can you see where I’m going with this? As long as you know which hormones to make, how they’re made up, and what quantities you need… Well, don’t you think magic HRT is completely possible? Of course, as I'm not sure it makes sense for Salaryman to have known the detailed specifics about it from the modern world, it would require a lot of in-universe research/science advancement for someone to actually do that, but theoretically...

The magic system in this universe has so much potential to be explored, I’m fascinated by what you can theoretically do with it. Although, this is long and off-topic already I think this should be the end, lol.

I think I talked too much? I’m sorry, you were probably not expecting such an answer. I told you, Tanya gives me brain worms (mental illness).

I guess the TL;DR is this: that kid definitely ain’t cishet.

[quotidian-oblivion]

Of course, fellow evil tim drake au writer

It's a series actually. And I've planned the whole series out, but not the fics in it or even how many fics are there in it. But the name of the series is:

Found Him

Because by the end, the Bats might just have found the real Tim Drake.

I'm reading the outlines for my evil Tim Drake AU and I am SCREECHING.

[neopronouns]

aaaand now i can open requests tomorrow! they'll either open at like 7-8 cst or noon cst, it depends on whether i remember to open them when i feed my dogs in the morning.

[hydrangeadangea]

Everyone who has been liking my posts: I love you and adore you

[gretavanmoon]

S A L T Y

Jake x female reader

4.8k words

+ After indulging in a shared stamina-boosting treat in the dead of summer, you find yourself twisted up in a silly argument that's laced with jealousy... the salt is heavy in more ways than one with this one.

Happy Fourth of July! Keep this in your back pocket for your post-firework bedtime story. Gracias to @gretavangroupie for edits and forcing me to post this love yaaaaa

Warnings: 18+! Angst: Cursing, Substance Use in the form of Aphrodisia, Arguing, Mentions of Alcohol, Heavy Jealousy & Possessiveness, Overall Bossiness Smut: Kissing, Touching, Penetrative Sex, Unprotected Sex, Fingering, Oral Sex (M! and F! Receiving), Dom/Sub kinda

+

“Son of a bitch, if we keep it up like this I’m not gonna have anything left in me, baby,” Jake admits as he removes his right foot from the arm of the couch, the other standing weakly on the floor, barely holding his weight. Your body is bent in half, your arms holding you uncomfortably upright as he pulls out from behind you, hands still gripped and squeezing tightly around your waist. 

You and Jake had made the early afternoon decision to each eat a special pleasure-boosting chocolate that you’d been told about by a friend a few months ago, and saying that the effects always took perfectly for the both of you would be an understatement. Just one serving would have the two of you ravenous for each other for hours on end, and seeing as how neither of you had anything to do for the rest of the day, it only seemed right to end the weekend on a high note. It was only after you’d both eaten the chocolate and after you figured out that your air conditioning had decided to go out that you told Jake about your plans for next weekend, thus sending him into a pissed-off mood that was borderline a thrown tantrum. But you accounted his mood to the extra blood flow the chemicals in the chocolate had given him going straight to his dick, leaving little for his brain to process thoughts. 

“Hah, look at you calling me baby, after bitching at me all day,” you quip, turning to meet eyes with him as you stand up straight again, the feeling of your own wetness sliding between your thighs. Your muscles already feel weak as you turn to plop back down on the plush cushions of the couch, careful not to drip anything on your freshly washed covers.

He instantly falls to his knees, growling as he grabs the insides of both of your legs to pull you closer to the edge of the couch. His mouth is instantly connected to your core, his tongue already burying itself deep inside your deepest crevices. You’re both groaning from near exhaustion, willing your bodies to keep up with your desire.

“I can bitch at you and still call you baby, Y/N. Not my fault you said yes to a date with someone else without my permission,” he barks before diving back between your legs.

Your hands smooth back the strands of hair sticking to his forehead, pulling them away from his face as you bite both your lips in, finding it insanely difficult to stop yourself from wailing his name so loudly you disturb the neighbors. He’s being facetious and you know that, but his attitude makes it all the more challenging to not give in to him completely. You love it when he gets a little jealous.

Instead of yelling at him, you bite a quick “fuck me” through your tightly clenched teeth, hoping to god he doesn’t hear you. His brow furrows as he makes eye contact with you, a maddening expression painted on his sweat-coated face that you’re sure is only there simply for the sake of playing dumb. “Are you just raving, or is that a request?” he growls as he pulls away just long enough to breathe his words out.

“Neither, asshole,” you lightly tap your fingertips to the side of his temple, knocking him sideways as he presses your legs apart, giving him further access to work you. He likes it. He gets off on you being playfully scornful to him. He cracks a short-lived but devious smile before turning back into his whiney self. 

You take a quick breath, ready to explain yourself again. “And it’s not a date, it’s drinks. With my co-workers. How in the– aahhh, fuckkkk– how in the fuck is that a date?” Your eyes begin to roll back a little as he points his tongue directly over your clit, arrogantly knowing exactly what makes you fall apart for him. 

He pulls his head back with a hiss, making you disconnect your hands from his roots as he eyes you meticulously. He licks his lips, your slick still coating the 5 o’clock shadow that’s now adorning his face after going at it with you all day. His eyes never leave yours as he plunges his two middle fingers inside you, pushing his other hand against the inside of your left thigh. “How is it not a date, baby? Don’t be fucking coy. You dated the man.”

You groan in aggravation as he pisses you off even more, still pinning your leg to the side as his fingers work inside you, hitting your g-spot with so much fucking ease you want to slap him again. “I went on two dates with him! That hardly qualifies as dating, Jacob,” you retort as he flicks his fingers with more precision. Your head falls back again, the pleasure coming in rippling waves now as you feel your stomach tightening. “Plus, he’s my manager… invited everyone… how am I supposed to say no to that?”

The air shifts a little as he loudly clicks his tongue.

“Did you ever fuck him?” he asks quickly, sitting back on his heels as he completely halts all movement of his hand.

“What?”

He leans in, hovering over your belly as his face is dangerously close to yours, his fingers still buried deep but staying completely still. “Did… you…ever… fuck him? Simple question, love.”

You swallow, not expecting the conversation to even go here, let alone while you’re literally fucking him.

Your eyes dart side to side, the blurry memories of sleeping with the man who is now your boss those some ten-odd years ago flashing through your mind. That was a lifetime ago, you were barely in college a few weeks. And it was two dates and a hookup before the two of you decided to just stay friends, and that was that. You’d only seen him in passing a handful of times over the years, but to be quite honest, after sleeping with him, he barely ever even crossed your mind. 

You swallow again as Jake’s eyebrows raise, waiting for you to answer. He shoves his fingers deeper inside you to remind you that he asked a question, making you clench around him. “Fuck! Yes, okay? Yes. We slept together one time, Jake. Once. And it was ten fucking years ago.” 

He stays silent as he bites his lip in, a rush of what looks like disappointment crashing over his face for just a second. He slowly picks up the pace again, delving his fingers inside at a much slower pace, now. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he mumbles, still biting his lips. You can tell that your admission has defeated him just a little. 

“Tell you what? That I hooked up with him once? Probably because it feels like it was a figment of my imagination, at this point. I was eighteen. Why does it matter?” you ask, wondering if he’s really upset, or if he’s just pouting at the fact that you left this little detail out about this certain person you work with. 

“He’s your fucking manager, Y/N, I don’t know…” he says, shaking his head side to side. You can see the sweat starting to form on his chest, the drips starting to form into a stream that is dripping down to his stomach. You could feel the heat of the day starting to creep into the walls now that the A/C has been out for a few hours, and the sun practically baking everything it touches outside isn’t helping in the matter. But there’s nothing you can do about it right now, the both of you will just have to suffer until the chocolate wears off and you can act like humans instead of rabid animals.

You stay quiet as you feel the knot tightening in your stomach again, wanting him to continue so you can reach your high, but also feeling the heavy shift in the conversation. You glance at the sweat pouring from him, and some kind of carnal instinct to want to taste it takes over your entire being. You suddenly need your mouth on him. You need to lick up every droplet of sweat that’s rushing down his body, and swallow it down. Taking matters into your own hands, you grab his wrist and rip his hand from you, standing up as you pull him to his feet. The soreness sets in again, having been in nearly every position in the Kama Sutra already today. 

You pull on his hands, making him follow you into the bedroom. “What are you doing, Y/N?” he asks, trailing behind. 

“Come in here, come lay down,” you order, turning him to push him down into the already messy sheets. Luckily, there’s a fan in here, giving the two of you a little reprieve as the heat fills the house. You watch as his tanned body falls backwards into the stark white sheets, his hair falling behind him as he reclines. His skin is glowing, his eyes trained on you, watching your every move as you crawl up him, purposefully snaking your body so that he has a visual of every single curve of your sweat-covered self.

You lean down, outstretching your tongue and touching his navel, working your way up his stomach and to his chest, collecting the deliciously salty taste of him on your tongue. There’s something about it, the flavor and the scent and the way he feels beneath you… it’s not the most pleasant, but you’re positive nothing on this earth tastes or smells more like home to you. You’d always read about how animals are attracted to their mates’ scent, and you never understood how it could apply to humans, too, until you became serious with Jake. It’s something that’s just wired into your brain now, and the longer you’re together, the more you find yourself craving it. Craving him.

“I’m sweaty and gross, babe,” he complains as he leans up and twists his hair into a knot behind his head, remnant baby hairs still sticking to and framing his face.

“You think I care? You taste so good… like you just got out of the ocean…” you say honestly, making him laugh a little through his nose. You run your tongue all over him, his sides, his groin, his pecs and his neck… each place tasting better than the last, and each spot making him absolutely feral at the feeling of your mouth on him. His light moans of bliss fill the room as his hands search for any part of you he can grab on to, his eyes fluttering open and closed as you watch his face light up. 

You can tell he’s getting hard again as you let your lips lightly ghost over his shaft, the chocolate still putting in work in keeping him turned on. Finally, you find yourself starving for him again, too, letting your lips cup over the head of his dick as you give it one tight little squeeze. 

“Please baby, fuck…” he grunts, his knees bending up and around your body. One thing about the way this chocolate works is that it amplifies everything, making every brush, every touch, every sensation amplified by a hundred. You have already had your mouth on him a couple of times today, but you can imagine how he feels simply from your experience with his mouth on you earlier, begging and wanting and needing the feeling so desperately. Absolutely bursting at the seams to experience the euphoria.

You move your body to straddle him, letting your already completely soaked core drift over his cock, ready and waiting to fill you again.

“Don’t think I forgot about the conversation we were having, Jake,” you tease as you position your knees firmly on either side of him. He fills his cheeks and blows out a long puff of air, his hand hitting his forehead to wipe away the sheen of sweat. 

“I don’t remember us having a conversation, Y/N, but I remember me expressing to you that I’m not happy with this arrangement,” he says, smirking at you a little while he runs his tongue along his teeth. “You fucked him! And you work with him! And you never even told me!” he all but yells.

You let your opening line up with his tip, letting yourself fall on to it just an inch or so. Your body was begging you to sit all the way down, the fire burning within your veins way past its boiling point. But you held strong. 

“You think I fucked him, Jake?” you ask, swirling your hips gently on him.

He tries his best to stifle his words, but he comes up short. “Oh my god, baby, you feel so– please…” he begs, his jaw falling slack just from the tiny touch. His eyes pop open and look at you, his expression absolutely pleading for more. “Yeah, you told me you did…”

You pause, letting the heavy air hang for just a second as you laugh a little under your breath. You shake your head side to side at his naivety, wondering just how he thought the situation went down all those years ago. “I didn’t fuck him,” you answer, letting yourself fall another inch as your fingertips pause on his stomach. “I was eighteen, I didn’t even know what fucking was…” you purr, swirling on him again. 

His chest is heaving with want, his growls now turned into desperate whimpers as he’s doing anything but begging you to let him fill you. You know that if things were normal, and if the two of you weren’t caught up in this childish back-and-forth, he’d be on his hands and knees for you, falling to the floor at your every whim. His hips buck up into you, but you rise on your knees, not allowing him to have any control over the matter.

“But you… you and me… this…” you go on as you sit back down, giving yourself centimeters. “I didn’t know what I was even missing, until I found you…” you admit. “No one has ever made me feel like you do.”

He takes a deep breath, centering himself. “None? None of them?” His hand sneaks up and presses a thumb to your clit, adding just enough pressure to make your breath catch. 

You shake your head side to side again, as you’re almost seated to the hilt, the feeling of him filling you again already making your body shudder. “No baby, none of them. So you can cut the pissy attitude, or I’m hopping off of you, and taking care of myself.” With that, you sit down completely on him, your bodies finally resting together as you feel the tip of him buried as far as he could get.

“Ffffuckk, Y/N, god damnit, yes,” Jake howls into the room as his thumb still works your clit, his other hand rushing up to grip onto your hip. But you steady your movements. Though your body is burning for you to move, you want to give him the same lack of satisfaction he gave you earlier. But just for a second. 

“Answer me, am I going to have to take care of myself, Jake? Or are you going to quit being salty over something that doesn’t fucking matter and let me fuck you how I want?” 

You know the situation matters to him. And you’ll validate that later. But not right now. Right now it’s fueling too much angst and you’re having too much fun.

His grip on your hip tightens so hard that it almost hurts, his fingernails digging into the thick muscle there. You’re fully aware that both of you can get turned on from dirty talk alone, and the chocolate is only exaggerating the feeling. Your brain is buzzing with electricity from it. You love when he gets a little rough. He can tell that your body responds to the little bit of pain, and like a switch flipped in his brain, he lets it turn on all his lights. Suddenly both his hands are on your hips, switching the places of both of you in one swift movement. Your body is pressed against the mattress, your shoulders being held down as he hovers overtop of you. “How about you let me fuck you how I want, hm? How’s that sound?” he challenges with an air of greed. 

Like a petty little pet, you nod your head, completely losing the war of being the one calling the shots the second he squeezes your clit between his thumb and forefinger. The sensation almost kills you, cuts off your ability to breathe altogether as he begins pulsing his fingers quickly, causing the desire to pool up in your belly all over again. He’s never really concentrated his fingers this pointedly before; usually his hands are grabbing and squeezing wherever they can. But with the most sensitive part of your body being held so tightly and at the mercy of his fingers, you feel completely at his will.  “How about I show you exactly why you choose to stick around, and you’ll keep choosing it, no matter how many dates you go on with your boss.”

“God, give it up, Jake,” you complain, rolling your eyes dramatically as his movements set your whole body on fire again.

You’ve barely gotten the words out before his other hand is braced across your neck, applying just the right amount of pressure to your pulse points. You want to swallow, but you can’t, all you can do is let out a pitiful whine that sounds more like a choked sob than a moan. His other two fingers are still gripped on your clit as he balances on his knees, his eyes laser sharp as the sweat continues to drip from his chest. 

“Give it up? Give it up?! Baby, you’re being awfully bossy for someone who is in the wrong, here. And for someone who’s acting so bratty today,” he says, his voice sounding gentler than the words he’s spouting. “Tell me you won’t go to the bar with them. Tell me you’ll back out of the plans.”

Deep down, you know Jake doesn’t give a fuck who you hang out with. You’re both comfortable enough in your relationship that trust is paramount, and neither of you have ever tested it. He trusts you, and you him to come home to one another every night, never straying or giving the other a reason to be suspicious about anything at all.

He squeezes a little harder on your throat, sending a shockwave of pleasure straight to your core as his eyebrows shoot up. 

“Come with me. Come out with us. You haven’t met them yet, anyway… come let them see that I’m yours, we don’t even have to tell them. We can show them…” you suggest, honestly liking this idea way more. His grip on your throat loosens as bit as he contemplates the idea. 

“Show them, hm?” Finally he nods, giving in to your suggestion. “Okay, yeah, I’ll show up…”

You nod back at him as you give him the tiniest smirk, bringing your own hand up to cup over his, squeezing his fingers a little tighter on you. “What’s with you today, huh? Testing me every five minutes…” he asks. His teeth grit against one another as the wind from the fan hits the back of his head just right, blowing his damp hair over his face as he lets go of his grip between your legs, adjusting his body so that he’s positioned perfectly above you again. His hand moves from your throat straight down to your tit, gripping the whole thing roughly as he takes his dick in his hand, running it up through your wetness. The sensation is enough to floor you, every single atom in your body on fire and wanting to feel him completely. 

Your hands find his waist, pulling him into you with everything you have, your legs already wrapping around him. “Stop making me fucking wait Jake,” you spout. “I’ll stop bitching, I promise, just please…” 

“Oh now you wanna back down…? Not like I haven’t gotten you off three times already today…”

“You’re the one who’s been fucking bitching like a teenager all damn day! God…” you rouse, knowing that your voice is probably grating on his nerves right now. He presses himself harder against you, daring you to say another word. 

“Watch your mouth,” he warns, still holding himself in his hand. You can feel his pulse throbbing in the head of his dick as it presses up against you, and you know if you say another cross word, you’re in for it. 

“And what if I don’t?” you press, sounding as prissy as you possibly can.

He taunts you with the same ultimatum that you gave him earlier, “Then I’ll just have to go and take care of myself, I guess… and leave you here unsatisfied. Your mouth has been nothing but aggravating today, Y/N, I swear to god…”

You roll your eyes at him, knowing he most definitely hasn’t forgotten about your lips sucking at him for nearly an hour today, if you added it all up. 

“Will you just fuck me, Jake? I’ll keep my mouth shut if you shut yours…” you spout as you feel your core drip down onto the sheets. 

“Is that a fucking promise?” he asks, cocking both eyebrows.

“Swear.”

Like a wild animal that can no longer control it’s instinct, he presses all the way into you, stifling all the noises that you know he wants to make. His body lurches to hover over you as he picks up a slow pace, his hips cracking with extreme precision as his thighs smack against the backs of your legs. “God, you get on my fucking nerves,” he jests through his teeth.

“Mutual,” you say quickly, jutting your chin upward.

Your throat is burning with rage as you stop yourself from crying out, only tiny breaths of whimpers escaping as you hold your side of the quiet bargain. His eyes are dark and devious as his hips snap harder, hitting you more deeply than he has all day. Your vision blurs into a deep black with each thrust, the pleasure threatening to make you go nonverbal, anyway. 

An especially harsh breath falls from you as he bends your leg up, hitting you even deeper and at a new angle. He brings his left hand up to his mouth, pressing his pointer finger gently over his lips with a hushed ‘Shhh’. 

Your hand flies up and cups around your mouth as you follow his order, ceasing all sounds that could possibly escape you. His eyes stay trained on you as his hair falls across his face and yours, his scent wafting across your nose as you take in chopped breaths through it. You force your eyes closed as the pleasure builds in your stomach, the familiar feeling of the beginning of another delicious orgasm overtaking your psyche. It burns, the threat of overstimulation creeping up in your insides, but you ignore it simply for the fact that you are going to feel him so wholly again, letting him bring you to the brink of no return for the third, fourth, fifth… whatever time it will be today. 

Suddenly you feel his lips on the shell of your ear, his teeth biting in as he whispers. “I’ll go on your little work outing with you, but if I’m gonna endure being around a man who’s already fucked you, you’ll do things to my liking, got it?” he asks, and you know better than to say no right now. Your stomach muscles are tightening, jerking your body as the bliss builds up, so you nod in agreement as your hand is still clamped over your mouth. “You’ll wear that low-cut top with the lace straps that I like so much… and that black leather skirt that cuts at your thigh… wear my favorite perfume, and that pretty little necklace I got you for your birthday. Sound good, babydoll?”

You nod again as his teeth pull on your earlobe, his voice low and gravelly, still. “Good. Then it’s settled. Then everyone will see how tantalizing you look outside of your work clothes, and they won’t be able to do a goddamned thing about it… they won’t be able to touch you… They’ll just have to admire you from afar while I tease you under the table…” his hand ghosts down and his thumb finds your clit again, making your eyes shoot closed and your head tilt back into the pillows. Fuck, if he doesn’t always manage to win these things. And you know he isn’t lying, either. You know your entire work outing will be full of his hands secretly snaking between your legs under any table you’re sitting at, his hand gripping your ass at every turn, his eyes staring daggers through you from across the room…begging you to sneak with him into the bathroom.

You know how the game is played, and somehow, he always fucking wins whether you want him to or not. What you don’t know though, is that he thinks the exact same thing of you. You winning him over with the way you feel wrapped around him, your body drenched and buzzing beneath him. He always wins, even when he doesn’t. 

“You gonna cum, baby? Let me have it one more time?” he asks, his hand now pressing down on your stomach where he can feel himself entering you with each pointed thrust he’s still delivering. 

“Mhmm…” you moan into his neck, his mouth still sucking hard on your ear and everything surrounding it. 

“You’re mine… all mine… no one else’s… give me what I want, baby,” he gloats, and his possessive words send a slow shockwave through your body, the rippling effects of the most intense orgasm you’ve had today sending your mind into a noiseless world of white light. All you can feel is him, all you can think about is him… and when you finally catch your breath and let your hand fall to the back of his neck, your pitiful moan on the come-down reverberates off the walls, sending him to finish right behind you. 

When his breath finally evens enough to come back to earth, his body collapses on top of you, completely spent as he pulls himself out of you. You lean down to kiss his neck, his skin still coated in that sweet-salty goodness that is enough to get you going again, but you relax, feeling the effects of the chocolate beginning to slowly wear off. 

He flips his head around to face you as you both lie face-down on the bed, and a smile that you haven’t seen all day sweeps across his pink, pouted lips. “Do I still taste like the ocean?”

You let your fingertips tousle the hair around his face, drenched and sticky. “Better than the ocean. You taste like you.”

His cheeks blush as his demeanor completely shifts into softness. “You know I love you, right?”

“Yeah baby, I know,” you reply with sincerity. 

“And you don’t have to wear all that stuff to the bar. You’ll look beautiful in whatever you choose. You could turn heads in a burlap sack.”

You giggle as you pull his hand up to your lips, kissing his palm. “But what if I want to wear all that? What if I want you to tease me all night, make my boss even more jealous than he probably already is?” you press.

“Then it’s a no brainer. Do it up, baby. I trust you,” he says with confidence. 

“Maybe I will,” you reply, taking a deep breath. “Not pissy anymore now that I gave you what you wanted?”

He smiles coyly, snaking one arm underneath you to pull you on top of him again. “Nah. No more bitching from me. I think I was about to have a heat stroke.” His hands are ghosting all over your body again, but not in a wanting way. His fingertips drift over your curves as if he’s adoring the body that is sitting over him. Simply taking the time to appreciate you.

“Me too,” you giggle, and you know that the festivities for the day have most likely reached their bittersweet end. “I’ll go start us a cold shower while you call the landlord, sound like a plan?” you ask, holding your hand up as you await a high-five.

“Deal,” he says, clapping his hand to yours. “But you can’t try and seduce me in the shower, I don’t think I have anything left in me. You’ve drained me dry, girl.”

You laugh through your nose as you hop into the floor, rushing off to the bathroom. “We’ll see about that.”

+

xoxoxo Jules

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[dandylovesturtles]

Hey! So I was looking for the last Emotional Support Water Bottles part you posted for a reread (I LOVE IT SO MUCH!!!! I DONT THINK YOH UNDERSTAND) I don’t remember what it’s called but it was the part where Draxum got into a fight with Leo about food and stuff, but I can’t find it on Ao3 or in your tumblr posts. Help? 🥺

(Also feel free to ignore this but are you planning any more parts to the story? Every time I see you update it gives me a massive boost of happy chemicals heheheh. If you ever think your works are unappreciated I will RATTLE you)

Yeah, unfortunately I still don't have the 4th part up on AO3 yet. I keep thinking I need to do that and then getting sidetracked.

Part 4 A

Part 4 B

I really need to update my master post haha... lots of things I need to do.

I do intend to write at least one more part! I do admit my inspiration for this series is starting to die down so while I do have lots of thoughts about what happens later on in this timeline, I'm probably only going to write enough for the rest of the immediate aftermath and then maybe just do a followup tumblr informational post. I just haven't felt like writing a lot over the last month because, as I mentioned awhile back, I got laid off, and while I did end up finding a new job pretty quickly (thankfully), that + new job + various happenings in the US rn + I worked the polls on election day + family stuff going on = I just haven't felt too much like writing.

I've been slowly getting my feet wet working on something else randomly recently, and as my creative juices get flowing again I will hopefully get back to this soon! I thank everyone for their patience!

And I'm so glad you like my work! Thanks for the ask!!

[thegoldencontracts]

Do you think Azul is capable of falling in love? I mean, the way he sees love as transactions and weakness to be exploited makes me question this thought.

Oh my god anon I'm so happy you asked about the transaction thing because I have SO many thoughts...

Can Azul Love?

This is just a quick analysis my brain spurred off into.

First there's this scenario I made specifically about this concept - Azul Falls In Love And Can't Handle It (Just wanted to link it instead of repeating everything in this post)

But even in other fics, I love exploring that concept! Because - to me, at least - love isn't always a choice. It becomes a choice later on. That sounds confusing but allow me to clarify.

There are two types of feelings commonly known as "love" that I'm referring to - Infatuation, and love. These two have nothing to do with age, or even a person's maturity level. Infatuation is the first part of a relationship or a pre-relationship stage, where every interaction gives you butterflies, you feel like you're on fire every second you spend, and all that good stuff.

Love is a choice you make. You're not getting butterflies anymore. You are choosing to build a life with someone, to be there for them even without the boost of infatuation.

Infatuation can come and go - it's pretty short-lived, in all honesty. Love, on the other hand, is stable and much longer-lasting when requited. You care deeply about a person, in spite of all their flaws or weaknesses.

Very few people can't feel infatuated - even Aromantic people can end up experiencing the same thing, just from a platonic angle, where you really admire someone to the point of glossing over their flaws.

Azul is no exception. He can get infatuated with someone too. He's not immune, and god, he hates it. Seeing you gives him butterflies, he wants to do everything in his power to make you happy, but why? This isn't supposed to be how he acts!

Love is a separate matter. Love requires a level of emotional maturity that - let's face it - not many Night Raven students have. Azul would have to care for you in spite of your flaws and choose to invest his time into a relationship with you despite potential losses like time for his business. He'll have to choose you despite the lack of chemicals in his brain encouraging him to do so. And, in his current state, I'm not quite sure if Azul is capable of that.

But the thing is, Azul isn't stagnant. It may not seem like it, but he is gradually growing. And he's definitely capable of love - even if it isn't romantic - just look at the way he talks about his family! I meant it when I said I wasn't sure. Though there's a chance he might not be able to make that choice, there's a chance he can, too.

And hopefully, when the time comes, and Azul and whoever his partner is are a good way in their relationship, and the chemicals finally wear off, he can make that choice.

[newtthetranswriter]

Please may I have a Fairy tail headcanon of Gray Fullbuster with a female S/O who has Edward Elric's abilities from Fullmetal alchemist. S/O joined Fairy tail when she was a young child not long after Gray did..S/Os unlimited abilities meant that she can basically create anything that she can put her mind too..she isn't nicknamed the metal mage for nothing. She isn't proud of what she had done back then..she earned those abilities to be a metal alchemist at a consequence of trying to revive her late mother..she was damn lucky that she didn't lose her body parts..she is a independent young woman in Fairy tail and a member of Team Natsu.

So, I've never done headcanons before, but I'll give it a go, hope you enjoy these. I'm not sure if this is exactly what you're looking for, but I did my best, if you enjoy please feel free to let me now and don't be afraid to send ion more requests. Anyway Enjoy and have a good day/night. MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT

Alchemy isn't an exact science, things can go wrong, and that's what happened when you tried to bring back your mom.

Unlike past Alchemists who had tried to bring people back from the dead you were lucky, you saw the truths of the world but managed to hang on to all of your limbs.

With the knowledge of the universe giving you a major boost in your magic at such a young age, you needed to join a guild to help control and grow this power.

At the age of 8 you wondered into the guild hall of non-other than Fairy Tail, a legendary guild full of powerful mages.

You were welcomed with open arms by nearly everyone there except one kid who couldn't keep his clothes on, when you first meet Gray, he was cold to you, not to say you were really any better having just lost your mother for a second time.

As time passed you grew stronger and more confident in your abilities to manipulate the chemical structure of items and shift them into new things. You primarily specialized in turning things to metal to create more useful weapons.

Master Makarov saw your potential and by the age of 17 you had become an S class wizard known as the Metal Mage.

Along with growing your power the tension between you and gray only got worse, almost like him and Natsu's fighting but with a little more flirting

like I see you guys sitting at the guild hall ignoring each other until he pops off with something stupid about being better a making things with his magic and you just use your magic to make something to hit him with using the table and yell at him about covering his abs because in typical gray fashion he's probably in his boxers.

At first no one notices the more flirty comments until one of you calls the other handsome/beautiful directly making the other blush

Being as stubborn as you are you try to deny it for the longest time and so does he

Now if we add on the being a part of team Natsu, it gets more hectic

I'm talking Happy teasing you, Natsu trying to tease you but ultimately ending up fighting Gray for something he says, Wendy is just confused, Lucy and Erza think its kind of cute that the two stubborn mages wont admit their feelings, and then there is Carla who just thinks everyone involved is dumb

And when you guys finally get together i don't think a lot would change

like yeah you guys don't fight as much or the comments aren't as pointed but there is still playful bickering between the two of you

I just feel that Gray is the type to show affection by being sarcastic

also spend a lot of time just hanging out show off your magic to each other and getting ideas from each other

When you get together Happy still makes stupid jokes, Natsu still tries to tease you guys but fails, Lucy, Erza and now Wendy are secretly planning your wedding as soon as it announced you're dating, and Carla is happy for you two.

Now on to some other aspects of the relationship,

If you are having a bad day because of something reminding you of your past Gray will 100% understand, and try to help you calm down

He knows how hard it is to have a difficult childhood and lose your family so he's going to try to make it better

he may not be able to bring your mom back but he can try not to fight Natsu as much and stay close to you for support.

and vice versa, if he's having a hard time with let's say Juvia being annoying, You would be there to try and be a buffer, or if she doesn't take the hint just telling her off.

Overall I see Gray and you being very close and comforting when its just the two of you, but if you're with the rest of the guild or on a mission you know how to be respectful of everyone around you.

[beddybites]

JYSADSJ hiii bite! i just wanted to tell you that every time i open tumblr i check to see if you posted anything bc i love your content and its just great to me and it really gives me a happy chemical boost whenever i see your art bc its just so awesome!!!

thank you for listening to my rambling and i hope you have a good day/night/whatever fits with the current time

i am going to sob this is so nice oh my god

thank you ahhhhhh!!!!!!!!

[retrieve-the-kraken]

Young Royals Season 2 play-by-play analysis

This is a much longer analysis because so much happens on this episode that sent me on a whirlwind of emotions and thoughts... I couldn't stop from writing a near essay worth about most crucial moments. Can't stop, won't stop.

EPISODE 5

Simon has been keeping Wille’s sweater under his pillow this whole time, probably sleeping with it. Does it still even smell like Wille? Is the scent fading? Is that why he needs to inhale harder, longer, deeper, wrap his whole face in it? He closes his eyes and licks his lips, like he’s trying to conjure the memory of the feeling of being with Wille, the taste of Wille’s lips. He’s still conflicted, just because he gave in at the ball and kissed Wille doesn’t mean that things have gotten any easier for them. He’s still technically with Marcus, he’s still aware that things with Wille are difficult, that Wille still hurt him, but he’s so drawn to him, he’s finally allowing himself to feel all the things again. He’s been fighting for so long and it’s exhausting.

Smelling Wille’s sweater is like a drug to him, he‘s conflicted, confused, and he needs a hit right now. It’s not going to help things become clearer, in fact they’re probably going to get more muddled. (Fun fact: smelling the person that you love can release the chemical oxytocin, a hormone and neurotransmitter that is also released when we hug and when we orgasm. That’s why it’s often referred to as the love hormone. Our brain chemistry combined with our feelings for a person can determine whether we think that person’s smell is the most fantastic thing in the world, even if they should smell stinky and unpleasant. Simon’s brain loves Wille’s scent. If his feelings for Wille had changed at all, Wille’s scent might not have had the same effect on him anymore. But he still has feelings for him, and so his smell is the most attractive and comforting thing in the world to him.)

Meanwhile Wille cannot contain his happiness, he’s full of hope again, and the shower intensifies that. He’s alone with his thoughts and he gets to mull over them. (Fun fact: did you know that showering lifts your mood because of negative oxygen ions? Sounds contradictory, but these are negatively charged atoms generated by the falling water, and they make you feel energized. That’s part of the reason why Wille is smiling like a madman here, the shower is boosting the way he already feels. Happy, elated, hopeful, invincible. Simon kissed him, he’s still majorly under the effects of oxytocin).

Wille making a sandwich for Simon… like a little callback to their first night together, and him making Simon a s… I love you, Wille, I love you with all my heart.

August being all smug about the fact that he’s gotten the speech, then looking over at Wille, knowing that he probably also got the speech, and he looks annoyed. Wille automatically bites his nail anxiously.

Simon desperately wanting to talk to someone about kissing Wille. He feels like a bad person because he “betrayed” Marcus. But baby, you had already told Marcus that you didn’t want anything serious, you were still getting over Wille, you weren’t ready to move on yet, and he’s the one who convinced you to stay in a “relationship” that you didn’t want. So maybe… it’s Marcus’s fault. (Not excusing kissing someone else when you’re in a thing, situationship with someone else, but… read the room, Marcus.)

“But does that make you a bad person just cause you do one bad thing?” Sara, are you comparing Simon barely cheating on Marcus with Wille to you betraying your brother or August causing a whole royal scandal? Or maybe she’s referring to her secret relationship with August, which is, in her mind, a direct betrayal of Felice. She doesn’t think she’s really doing anything terrible to Simon by being with August, and she thinks that August can still be redeemed. She’s giving him a second chance, which she often chastises Simon for doing to other people (Wille, Micke).

“You’re supposed to tell me to forget about Wille and be with Marcus.” Simon feeling so guilty, and conflicted. He feels like he’s betraying himself because he shouldn’t still have such strong feelings for Wille after everything that happened. He’s so conflicted and desperate for something certain, something easy.

“But you’re not in love with Marcus,” says Sara, leaving out the obvious which is “you’re in love with Wille instead.” But also talking about herself. “You can’t control your feelings. If you have feelings for the wrong person, it can still feel just right.” Poor Sara, you fell in love with the worst person. But she’s right, you can’t control your feelings. Simon has been trying to do that all season and failing fantastically.

Sara being all nervous about learning the protocol for meeting the royal family. August being a brown-noser with Jan-Olof. They both want it so bad.

Simon singing with all his heart, singing like he’s never sang before… and Jan-Olof with his frumpy face. I love that Simon stands up for himself, that he argues, that he states that they’ve been practicing. “It’s important to stick to tradition.” “But I thought the whole point was to prove that the school has been modernized.”

“We want this to be a group performance, not a solo.” And then when Simon storms out, Jan-Olof actually says to the teacher “Good.” THE GALL. All the other bullshit about tradition and continuity might be true, but at that moment it becomes evident that it was also about not giving Simon the spotlight, to make sure he doesn’t stand out. Fuck you, Jan-Olof.

I'm here for a Simon and Felice team-up. I want them to be hot curly-haired melanin-blessed fierce besties, especially after what happens in the next episode... Simon seems to be cool with her now, despite how she treated Sara at first, despite the whole kissing Wille in his room, despite everyone knowing that she used to be in love with Wille. And Felice is the supportive friend we all deserve.

Felice: “They don’t want new rumors about the two of you, you know?” (And then Wille goes and blows the lid off of that in the next episode. You don’t want rumors? No problem. Nothing but verified information straight from the source from now on.)

Again, they are sitting together, even when Simon is angry about Wille, if not directly at him. Simon, don’t reject the sandwich, please, Wille made it with so much love… don’t be like that, Simon, please, he wants to please you so bad…

One day they will have a nice encounter in the music room, from beginning to end…

“Everything I do becomes a problem when you enter the picture.” This was why Simon said that he couldn’t accept Wille’s role, because he still thinks that it’s somehow Wille’s fault, that it’s not something out of Wille’s control. “They don’t want you to be associated with me, as per usual.”

“How long do I have to be punished for that video?” It’s true, he’s constantly being victim-blamed for the video, as if him and Wille wanted to get caught, as if it was their fault that the video was recorded and leaked and became viral… It’s like when actresses have nude pictures and they get hacked, and the media reports it like they shouldn’t have had nude pictures of themselves, and how embarrassing for them and the negative impact it might have on their careers... Instead of condemning the hackers…

“You don’t get it because you haven’t felt the consequences.” Simon is so angry about his song that he says things without trying to see from Wilhelm’s perspective. Haven’t felt the consequences???? Have you not seen this sad boi puddle of anxiety mopey mess walking around the school this whole time, almost getting yanked out of his dorm by his bodyguard and dragged all the way back to Drottningholm??? Did you not see him seething every time August was in the vicinity???? Did you not spot his raw red eyes from crying in his ridiculous wig???

“Yesterday was a mistake.” Simon says it, not because he doesn’t have feelings for Wille, but because he’s jaded. It will never work between them, they are not equals, there’s a whole institution hellbent on making sure that they never get back together. And Wille decides to try to level the ground.

This whole argument. It hurts so much. Of course Simon is hurt, at being lied to, at feeling like he can’t trust Wille. But we know that he really doesn’t understand, that he really would not get anywhere by reporting August. The fact that he says to Wille that he is the royal family, that he’s just like them, just like his mum… But we’ve established that yes, Wille hid the truth to protect Simon, just like Kristina hid the truth to protect Wille, but their motivations were different. Wille really truly wants to protect Simon, whereas Kristina protects her son and by extension the royal family.

Wille trying to control his panic attack in the music room. He feels like he fucked everything right up again. My poor baby. (Also, he just told Simon that it was August, and Simon can do whatever he wants with that information, and he’s probably worried that the thing he was trying to protect Simon from will actually happen…)

“Okay, so it wasn’t because it’s him.” Jan-Olof doesn’t answer, instead changes the subject. Duh.

”What a fucking snake.” “We always knew that August was an asshole.” “Yeah, but I meant Wille.” Simon turns like he was about to say something, but doesn’t.

Rosh being as good a lawyer as August’s dad. Give me Lawyer Rosh walking into court with her cow-print coat, please.

“Wille is right, people like them never get convicted.” Depressing truth. Rosh has a good point too, but it’s still bad advice. “Don’t you want everyone to know what August did?” The thing is that the royal family can probably manage to cover it before it even gets out, even after he’s gone to the police…

“Erik never had to give any speeches before he was of age.” This points so hard to how different Kristina treats Wille. Erik was, for all we know, the perfect Crown Prince, he didn’t have to make up for anything. Wille has to make up for past “scandals”… he has to clean up his image a lot, become the perfect Crown Prince in no time. Kristina probably thinks of this as pushing Wille to power through into his role of Crown Prince. Fake it till you make it. She’s sizing him up for his role, for whether he will be committed to it.

Now she poses the possibility that Wille may be deemed unfit. Or wether he'll be able to produce heirs. He’s fucking sixteen… “We risk upsetting the entire system of government.” So much for modernizing. Kristina has proven again to be old-fashioned and homophobic.

“I can’t force you. And I shouldn’t have to either.” Bullshit, Krissy. You’ve just mindgamed/mindfucked him into doing it, by revealing strategically that August is his backup. That was your plan all along. This whole conversation is so manipulative. “You have to remember that your decisions not only affect you. I need you on my team, Wilhelm.” Fuck you, Krissy. What about being on Wilhelm’s team instead, for once?

Wilhelm touching the broken frog prince snow globe, like he’s consulting with Erik...? Or like he’s realizing that the frog prince is free from his snow globe prison. It was terrible at first, it felt horrible for the snow globe to smash, something precious broke, but… now the frog prince is free…

But I love that Wilhelm wants to think about himself for once. And not in a selfish way. He’s weighing his options.

Sara not understanding that it’s not Felice’s decision who purchases Rousseau, and storming out.

Wilhelm finally opening up completely during the session, trusting Boris, making the tea and being very expressive.

“There was the real Erik, and then there was Prince Erik.” Erik had more training for his role, he was the first born, Wille was the spare. As far as everyone knew, Wille was never expected to step into the role…

“I know that I should be grateful for everything that I get, the honor, the privileges and everything, but how hard can it be?” He is aware of his privilege and he is aware of what is being asked from him in return, and he hasn’t realized that he would give all those up in a second, if it weren’t because he feels bound by duty.

“I do owe them, I have to do all this.” “Do you really?” Good, Boris, good.

I’ve said it before and I’ve said it again. Wilhelm drinks hot tea like a Viking. Dear god boy, your tongue, your throat, the roof of your mouth... (@makingupachangingmind pointed out that water in psychologists’ offices is always lukewarm, but it’s not… Wilhelm just boiled the water himself, and as he pours both cups you can see the steam. That is freshly boiled water. Obviously poor Edvin was not made to drink boiling tea during the scene, but for all intents and purposes Wilhelm just drank really freaking hot tea because he doesn’t mind how hot it is. It’s like he’s trying to kill something inside of him.)

And then Boris gives him permission to think about himself. To be a bit selfish.

By possibly giving August everything he’s ever wanted, Wilhelm might gain something much more important and valuable: his freedom, and the freedom to be with Simon.

August is playing chess with the same third year boys that turned on him before (they’re even almost in the exact same places and positions as the day they voted for Vincent). Like there’s no longer bad blood between them for voting him out of his prefect position. But knowing August, it’s simply because he doesn’t have to be resentful about that anymore, because what he knows that they don’t is that he’s about to be the top dog, once it becomes obvious that he’s the next in line to the throne.

I like that Malin calls Wille by his first name, not Crown Prince. I know that most of the time, people don’t have to address him that way, but often they do, so for Malin to be so familiar with him it’s nice.

Sara seeking comfort in August, and August being sweet. Ugh, I hate him so much, stop making me like you.

“If I let him take over, I could be free. From all this, I could be free with you. But if you go to the police, then I won’t have a backup anymore. I won’t have a choice. I can’t be free. I’ll be betraying my whole family, betraying Erik. I don’t want that.” This whole speech, it’s so simple and beautiful. Wille is finally doing what Simon asked him to do last season, to figure out what he wanted, something that he had to do on his own. And Wille figured it out, but even when he did it on his own, he was thinking of what Simon wanted too. Wille wants to be free, but it’s only worth it if it’s to be with Simon… so he exposes his feelings, he tells him what he wants, and what he hopes, and then leaves the choice completely up to Simon.

“Did he just say that he’d give up the crown for you?” Is one of the most iconic lines from this season, along with “they don’t have names”. I need a t-shirt of each. The look on Simon’s face as he realizes that yes, the boy he loves would literally give up everything for him, he would give up being King of Sweden, if it means he gets to be with Simon... If Simon will have him...

Jesus Christ, August is also giving up a part of himself, something that he felt was so important… for love. AND He looks so freaking cute looking at Sara… Goddamn you August.

Him talking about being King August and Queen Sara… like it’s in the bag…

Sara being sour still about Rousseau and making Felice feel terrible… it’s not the people that are buying Rousseau that she’s angry about, it’s not entirely about Rousseau being sold either, Sara feels helpless because it’s just another way in which she’s acutely aware of how much she doesn’t fit in with her peers. If she had the money, she could buy Rousseau for herself… But instead she has to depend on Felice’s family making “the right choice” of new owners for Rousseau, which let’s face it, Sara wasn’t going to be happy about absolutely anyone who might be interested in buying him. “What does she expect, for you to keep Rousseau so she can keep riding him?”

Wille waving his pencil to catch Simon’s attention… And that whole conversation whilst talking about the book… ugh, my heart. Simon finally understanding the pressure that Wille has on his shoulders, and Wille apologizing for it, and Simon forgiving him and understanding that it's not so simple and that it's not his fault, and basically saying that the ending is unknown so there’s hope… And Sara in the background being like “what’s going on between these two”. And Henry being Henry, of course.

“I mean she killed herself.” Ugh, let’s hope this is not foreshadowing of anything. (Unless it could be something about Erik…?)

LINDAAAA MY LOVE. We didn’t get enough Linda this season and it’s really upsetting. What’s even more upsetting is that Linda is so excited that Simon is in a relationship again with someone “caring” as far as she knows, that she doesn’t realize that Simon is uncomfortable with the conversation. Linda, I love you, but read the room. And of course Simon won’t say anything because he technically IS still with Marcus.

“Tampoco los voy a abochornar si vemos a la Reina (I won’t embarrass you either if we see the Queen)”. Now please let THIS be foreshadowing of the first time Linda and Kristina meet, PLEAAAASE. Not the embarrassing part, the meeting part. Please let them meet, please let them interact, please let Wille and Linda be super sweet with each other and for Kristina to realize that they have a warmer relationship than she has with her own son. Please let Kristina watch how Linda and Simon interact and realize how different that is from her relationship with Wille.

Sara tells August that Simon knows, like a little snitch, but she truly hopes that August will do the right thing, because she doesn’t understand how August works. What August knows that Sara doesn’t is that he gains nothing by confessing to the crime, as his stepdad told him. So now he has to find a way to save his ass. And that means sinking Simon somehow. (The game of chess is foreshadowing, though, throughout the whole show. August needs to be several moves ahead of Wille and Simon somehow. And someone pointed out a while back that, in the first episode, when Wille and Alexander are playing chess, Alex checkmates Wille, which is also foreshadowing to the next episode, where he has a role in pinning Wille and Simon…)

Simon thinking about how to tell Wille that he’s still going to the police… But Sara and Henry interrupted… Simon added a “But…” and then they came in and Wille had to leave because he felt physically ill.

EDIT (2023/03/23): I just realized I was wrong as I was rewatching most of this scene yet again (for fic research purposes, strictly) and it’s Wille who says “but…” then trails off when Sara and Henry come up. I don’t even want to know what he was going to say, because it doesn’t matter anymore, because after he has a breakdown and Simon comes by his room, Simon clarifies that he’s not doing it to hurt him, that he needs to do the right thing, and Wille says he knows and that he’s not trying to stop him. So we know already that whatever he might have said before the interruption was best left unsaid , perhaps. Maybe he would have protested, bargained a little, tried to sway Simon’s decision, and that would have negated what he said before, about it being Simon’s decision. So he kept quiet. He could have easily asked Simon to talk in private, try to talk him out of it, try to stop him, but he kept quiet, letting the reality of Simon’s choice to sink in, accept his fate. He needed to accept Simon’s decision, whatever it was, for Simon to trust him fully again.

After he throws up and as he’s brushing his teeth, he sounds like he's wheezing, he’s having trouble breathing. He's feeling weak, getting into bed without even taking his shoes off and rolling himself into a blanket burrito of pain and sadness... Because he knows that he will never be free, he will never be with Simon… he’s trapped forever… my poor baby…

“Are you mad at me?” No, Simon, you know he’s not… it’s just a tiny little thing of his whole world crumbling down…

Wille understating how sick he felt, because he didn't want his own feelings to influence Simon's decision. He's putting Simon first, because he loves him, even if if it's at the cost of his own freedom and happiness.

Simon seeing the frog prince/frog king snow globe smashed and Wilhelm keeping it on a little plate in his room, with all the jagged broken pieces, he probably doesn’t know the story behind it, but he must deduce then that it held a lot of meaning to Wilhelm, that he wouldn’t simply throw it out just because it smashed.

“But it’s scary.” “It’s scary for me too.” They're both scared, of the consequences of their actions, Wille is scared of having to be Crown Prince, of disappointing people, and Simon is scared of fighting for nothing, of things staying the same, of pointlessly fighting the system and perhaps other consequences… but they’re also both scared of the same thing, of being without one another, of having to be apart, of losing each other… they were so close, and suddenly everything goes up in smoke…

Wille tentatively reaching for Simon’s hand, and Simon letting him take it, caressing his fingers. They're both so resigned. “What will happen to us?” “I don’t know…” Kind of like the ending of Kris by Karin Boye…

They hug, and they both get a hit of oxytocin. It’s like Wille’s dream at the beginning of the season, breathing in each other, feeling at home and safe in each other’s arms…

And then they give in, for one last kiss, perhaps… then they look at each other, silently asking each other “can we at least have one last time?” So much has been written about this scene already, about all the built-up desire and yearning and aching bubbling to the surface, about them thinking that this might be the last time that they get to be together, so they decide they will have one last night together, just in case, to cherish forever. To assure each other that it’s the circumstances that are keeping them apart, not themselves. They are in. They are it for each other. To know that they love each other, that this was real and intense and worth fighting for, even if they can���t be together in the end, might help them survive.

I just want to fixate on three instances: this moment when Simon’s aching and yearning come through in his face again, in that little frown, and then it disappears in an instant as he melts into the kiss, into Wille’s arms, and he breathes in and relaxes and lets himself enjoy this, enjoy the taste and the smell and the feeling of Wille again…

And the best kiss in my opinion is this moment, when Simon takes control, as he climbs onto Wille’s lap like he’s been aching to do for so long. Because it’s obvious that Wille has always been hung up on Simon, it’s obvious that his feelings for Simon never went away, that he was in it the entire time… But Simon tried to hide/push his feelings away so much, get over him, move on, he tried so hard, but now he’s done fighting it, and he lets his desire take over. Get on top, take control, ravish him. Hands on his hair and on his face, kissing him desperately, grinding against him, chests rubbing, heavy breaths, devouring his neck. It’s so intense and beautiful… the song choice is chef’s kiss. It is holy.

And of course, the moment where Wille manages to ignore his own pleasure, his own elation, long enough to have the presence of mind to close the fucking curtains. Simon looks momentarily conflicted, at the sudden darkness, but then Wille lets out a nervous little chuckle, as if he’s asking “is this okay?” And Simon smiles. Yes, it’s okay. With that simple move, Wille regains control of his own narrative, for him and for Simon. They regain their privacy. They are safe with each other. At this moment, the world outside disappears, shut out completely, and it's just them.

I don't know how many times I've rewatched this episode, but I never not lose my shit over every single beautiful Wilmon moment...

Next episode is just me screaming and yelling at the screen...

This episode is brought to you by OXYTOCIN™.

[chronicallyblyrie]

TMAGP HIATUS OVER YAYAYA

Heres my live thoughts of TMAGP 21! I didnt realize the hiatus was over today i am so happy

-I do NOT like the incident elements listed for this episode at all

-Sam stop being sad :(

-oh it totally boosts it

-oh saaaaam being a corporate slave doesnt suit you

-sam being a double agent working against the government is an arc I wanna see

-something tells me sam cant quit even if he wants....

-celia seriously what the fuck is up with you

-immigration status??? immigration from ANOTHER UNIVERSE?? (sorry that was bad)

-CHESTERRRR

-MAGNUS INSTITUTE??

-proposal?

-who tf is dr. welling

-the insitute had a lot of financial and political resources for some reason?

-oh I really dont like this

-transmutation, definition is something changing entirely from one thing to another, often used when describing chemical ELEMENTS transmutating. ELEMENTS, like gee idk MORE ALCHEMY BULLSHIT??

-WHAT IS THIS DOME THING??

-yeah tired construction workers probably wont look that great dude be nice to them

-yikes

-WHY ARE PEOPLE BEING BURIED ALIVE GUYS

-oh boy

-ALICE NO

-oh my god she knows its sentient

-SHE KNOWS SOMEONE IS IN THERE

-STOP IT

-god lena please shut up security risks are the least of your problems

-MAYBE SHES LATE BECAUSE SHES FUCKING DEAD LENA

-Lena WORRIED?? oh she knows she fucked up

-what the fuck gwen

-INK5OUL WHAT

-YOU JUST CUT A MAN TO DEATH

-tape recorder??

-TAPE RECORDER??

-BRUH WHAT

-WOAH WAIT WHY IS SHE BEING COMPELLED?

-WOAHWOAHWOAHWOAH

-WHAT IS THE ERROR CREATURE WHY IS IT A DARK GHOSTLY FIGURE??

-WOOOOOOAAAAHHHH

-OH MY GOD

-OKAY SO MUCH TO UNPACK HERE

OKAYOKAYOKAYOKAYOKASO WHAT I HAVE GATHERED IS FOR SOME REASON THE ERROR CREATURE THAT JUST APPEARED STARTED COMPELLING GWEN TO GIVE A STATEMENT AND THAT THING CARRIES TAPE RECORDERS AND SPAWNS THEM IN TO LISTEN TO THE STATEMENTS OR SOMETHING??

THIS MAKE SENSE BECAUSE WHEN ALICE MET WITH THE DEAD LADY WHO WAS TELLING A STORY THAT WAS HEARD OVER A TAPE RECORDER TOO

WHATEVER THIS FIGURE IS ITS TRYING TO LISTEN IN ON EVERYTHING,AND ALSO WHAT DOES IT MEAN THERE'S MORE SOMEWHERE???

GOD I AM GOING FUCKING FERAL

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

is it normal to like, sometimes need to come in order to finish school assignments? i don't think im hypersexual or anything, i jack off like once or twice a night and not often outside of that besides in this context. the way ive been thinking about the habit, is that with my adhd it's hard for me to stay on track when writing a paper or whatever, so making myself come gives me enough happy chemicals and energy to get up and finish that shit. it's like post nut clarity, except i don't have nuts. if it's a project that i Especially don't want to work on, sometimes it takes two or three times before the stupid thing is done. i don't really want to *stop*, because i don't have meds, and i haven't found anything else that works. i mostly just wondered if that's a relatively common, or at least not unhealthy, thing for someone to do? sorry if this is me getting anxious over nothing, this just isn't exactly the sort of thing you can bring up as an everyday conversation topic. thank you for doing what you do!

hi anon,

we don't need to worry about whether or not this is common; it's literally irrelevant. what other people do with their genitals does not matter to this conversation!

the much more pertinent discussion here, for me, is whether this is going to be something that's functional for you in the long run. I want to be so clear that I am entirely, 100% sympathetic to being unmedicated and needing to generate dopamine boosts in other ways, but I worry that you're conditioning your mind and body to need sexual release to accomplish tasks. you've already said you sometimes need to masturbate two or three times, and that number is unlikely to decrease unless you make a conscious effort to curb it.

again, this isn't me saying you're wrong for jacking off for the free dopamine, but I do worry about you becoming too reliant on this particular method of upping your ability to focus, especially as there will (presumably) be a lot of scenarios where you need to get something done but masturbating isn't a viable option. human brain loooooves patterns and rewards, and habits can be hard to break once they're too entrenched.

so if you want my totally honest opinion, this isn't something I'd advise.

[freakydoq]

Fish out of water - Merman TF

(This story is intended 18+)

Kennedy nervously waited in line at the clinic. He had been on an hrt waitlist for a few months now, and while the original clinic hadn't called him yet, a new one, just a half an hour away, did. Ken felt alright with his body, but he wanted to feel at home, and he figured trying couldn't hurt. After all, if it doesn't help, he could just stop, right?

His boyfriend, Shrimp, was supportive of this endeavor, and originally wanted to go with him to the clinic. Unfortunately, however, he had a family emergency, and would be out of town for a week. They had planned to call every night, but Shrimp had been really busy after arrival, and was unable to call at all.

As the line got shorter, Kennedy's heart raced. He was both nervous and excited, his life was, hopefully, going to change. He was ready to love his body. He approached the counter and handed the receptionist his documents. They smiled at him, scanned his I.D., and gave it back with a clipboard.

"Here you go! Fill this sheet out and we'll call you back shortly." she said, her voice was pleasant, and Ken relaxed a little.

"Thank you!" he said, and found himself a seat. Looking at the paper, it started out normal, with some general medicine and self history questions, but as it went on, it had some silly questions that you might ask a child. One in particular being the following;

-

Which do you wish to become most? (circle answer)

Mermaid | Dragon | Centaur

-

Maybe it was to calm patients nerves? Kennedy thought, harder than most people would, about this question. When he was a kid, he loved to swim. He doesn't swim nearly as much now, but he still enjoys the feeling of water flowing around him. Imagining the fish swimming around him, and the gorgeous underwater reefs, his mermaid friends collecting seashells and helping hermit crabs into their new homes just made his tail wag with joy.

He circled 'mermaid', and went to answer the next question, but a door opened and he heard his name being called. He jumped.

"Kennedy?"

"Yes! I'm here!" He said, as he jogged awkwardly over to the nurse. She took his clipboard and began leading him down the hallway.

"Sorry," he said quietly, "I wasn't able to finish the whole questionnaire."

"No worries," the nurse said, taking a look at the page. "You filled out everything important. Right this way, you'll be in room 3."

Room three was fairly empty. There was an examination chair, a counter with a sink, and an intimidating syringe on a wheely cart. His heart sank.

"Um, excuse me," he whined. He was supposed to be being put on pills. "What's... the syringe for?"

"Dear, that's for your replacement therapy."

"I wasn't aware it was a one-time... injection." he said. He didn't know if he was ready to do this anymore, he was very scared of needles.

"Don't worry dear. It's not as bad as it looks, and we're very certain that it's safe. The doctor will be in shortly to give you your injection, and in only a week or so, you'll feel undeniably yourself!"

"How does it... work?" he tentatively asked. Only a week? It seemed pretty fast compared to the hrt he originally planned to be on. He would've had to take weekly suppliments over multiple years. Maybe he could just suck it up, this one time.

"Well, the injection contains a chemical similar enough to your own dna, that your body will accept and slowly integrate into your being. Over time, it replaces your dna. Instead of constantly artificially boosting certain chemical levels, it makes it so that your body naturally changes itself into your desired expression."

Kennedy gulped. This seemed scary, but also, really cool. He would be completely changed by Shrimps return! Sure, he wanted to be there during it, but imagine coming home to a confident and happy partner after a long, stressful trip.

"Is there a reversal treatment?" Just in case he wasn't happy with the changes, he had to ask.

"If you so desire one, yes. We offer it here at the clinic, however, nobody who has taken our form of hrt has asked for it. We're quite confident here that you'll be satisfied." the nurse checked her watch. "I apologize, i have other patients to get to. Don't worry, dear. It will be over in no time."

She gently closed the door, and returned to her duties. Ken sat down on the chair, and tried to relax. He decided to go through with it before, and there's no backing out now. He heard a knock outside, and the door swung open once more. A tall, pink-haired nekomimi came in. He had round glasses and a lab coat- very stereotypical. If Ken had been any less nervous, he would have found it silly.

"Hello, how are we feeling today?" the doctor said, as he snapped some latex gloves on his hands. "I'm Sebastian, I'll be administering your shot. You ready?"

“Awuf!” Kennedy yelped. That sneaky doctor, he had lowered his guard. But, as much as it startled him, it didn't hurt as bad as he thought. His arm tingled, so he pawed at it, but the doctor gently blocked him.

Ken's tail was stiff, and his heart pounded. He nodded and closed his eyes tight. The doctor rolled a chair over beside Ken, patted his back, and rolled up Ken's sleeve.

“You know, I would've chosen mermaid too.” said Sebastian. “Dragons are way too big for a lab, and a centaur can't properly experience a recliner.” Kennedy loosened up for a second and looked at the doctor quizzically. He had good points, but on such a silly topic. Especially when you work as a-

“I don't recommend doing that just yet. Your cells and dna will be hard at work very soon, and we wouldn't want to risk the process. For the first few days, you're going to feel ill, but that will all clear up in no time.”

Ken looked up at him, and Sebastian smiled down. The lights glinted off his glasses and completely obscured his eyes in an almost sinister way.

"Have a good rest of your life, Kennedy"

"Ahm... Thank you." Ken said as he moved towards the door. Sebastian opened it for him, and he exited down the hallway. He resisted the urge to rub his arm all the way home.

Part of the way through the drive, Kennedy felt awfully thirsty. He saw a drive-thru restaurant, and pulled in to order a cup of water. It was tastier than usual, and he just couldn't get enough of it. He stopped by several more drive-thrus on the way, and when he finally reached home, he immediately hit the sink.

He felt unbearably hot, and so incredibly thirsty. It had been less than an hour since he got his injection, could the 'ill feelings' be starting already? He lapped cold water right up from the faucet until he couldn't drink anymore, and then he just kept drinking. He went down the hallway and turned the a/c on blast before stripping down and collapsing onto his bed. He didn't bother with a blanket, he was much too hot for that. He thought, his last thought before passing out completely;

"I hope this is over soon."

Kennedy felt as if he couldn't sleep enough, though in actuality, he had slept for two days. He deliriously rolled over and contemplated a third, but his body felt unusually stiff- alarmingly stiff, in fact. During his sleep, his fever had passed, and he was now all wrapped up in his previously discarded blankets. His legs felt wrapped up especially tight, and felt very odd as he tried to move them. As he woke up more and more, he noticed how bad he had to pee. He sat up, rubbed his eyes, and began unwrapping himself out of the blanket.

Kennedy swung his heavy legs over the side of the bed and began to stand up- when he buckled atop them. He groaned and pushed himself to the side, stretching out, and seeing for the first time, what was really up with his legs. He gasped in horror as he processed what was in front of him- his legs were no longer legs; they were fused together right down the middle, and where his feet once were, was now a large nub of flesh and bone.

He put his hands over his mouth and tried not to panic. He wouldn't be able to walk on this, whatever his legs now are. His first instinct was to call Shrimp, but when Ken looked up at his dresser, he cursed- his phone was in the kitchen. He felt pressure on his bladder again, he still had to pee, but how could he? His legs weren't the only change he had experienced, his penis was no longer external, it had receded into a newly formed slit in the same area. He felt it inside, but how the hell was he supposed to pee with it like that?

He had too many things happening at once. He took a deep, shaky breath, and used his arms to push himself towards his bathroom. He was going to tackle these problems one at a time. As he dragged himself along, he realized just how heavy he is. He wasn't sure if he was heavier due to his new lump leg, or if he'd always been this heavy, but man, his arms were getting tired. He shoved open the bathroom door, and his frustration grew when he saw the toilet.

He looked down at himself, back up at the toilet, and then at himself once more. There's no way he'd be able to use a human toilet if he couldn't stand up to aim. He was already about ready to burst, and he did not want to add cleaning the bathroom to this mess. He looked around for a cup or container he could go in, and his eyes settled on the shower.

Quickly heaving himself over the side of tub, he propped himself up against the wall and took a moment to breathe. He was trying his absolute best to keep his panic under control, but the more he looked at himself, the worse he felt. He gingerly touched the area around his slit, and when he did, the tip of his penis poked out. He was startled by it, but relieved to see that it still looked the same as before. He relaxed, knowing he could use it like normal, but as he did, everything flooded out. It extended completely, and two days worth of piss ran down him.

Kens angst returned more intense than ever as he was unable to stop. He felt humiliated as the hot piss continued to stream. Just as he was truly gaining hold of his situation, he had to go and ruin it all, and that was almost a tipping point. His eyes watered, but instead of giving up, he reached up and turned on the shower head. It was detached, and Ken was easily able to wash himself off. He didn't bother to wait for warm water, but his penis felt the cold, and receded into the seemingly protective slit once again. He hoisted himself back onto the side of the tub, finished rinsing, and finally dried himself off. He exhaled again, and began working his way towards the kitchen.

He took another towel from the floor cabinet, and folded it up before lowering himself onto it. This way, he could slide across the floor instead of drag. He still didn't know what was happening to him, but the longer he was in this situation, the more it weighed on him, and the more he wanted to ignore it. He just had to get to his phone. Then, it would be okay. He wouldn't be alone.

Thankfully, their house was relatively compact. It was a straight line, from Shrimp and Ken's bedroom, through the hallway, and to the kitchen. He could see his phone on the table, and he pushed himself up on to a chair to get it. His phone was powered off because of inactivity, but not dead, amazingly. As he waited for it to turn on, he draped the towel over his lower body. Sitting on the chair, so long as he didn't move what were once his legs, he felt close to normal. He watched the loading circle on his screen go round and round before fully powering on, and once it did, he went straight to dial Shrimp. It rang, and rang, and rang.

His breath caught in his chest as it continued on and on. He heard the robotic voice of the voicemail taking over. He shook his head, hung up, and dialed again. Voicemail again. He balled up his fists and called another time. Voicemail. Shrimp wasn't picking up.

At once, all of the emotions he had been suppressing so hard flooded out. He broke down completely, tears flowing from his face as all of the questions he didn't want to ask himself alone barreled into his mind.

What's wrong with my legs?

How is this possible?

What the hell was in that shot?

What kind of freak am I becoming?

And most importantly:

Is Shrimp even going to love me after this?

He put his head down and buried his face in his arms as he cried, and he cried until he had no energy left. Finally, tired and empty, he folded the towel once more, dragged himself to the nearest couch, and fell asleep, silently hoping that when he woke up, his legs would be normal, and it would have just been a nightmare. Deep down, though, his soul knew that it wasn't.

Another nine hours passed, and Kennedy woke up. Still stiff, and still changing. He didn't even have to open his eyes to know, he could feel it from the first moment. Pushing himself up, he leaned up against the arm of the couch and uncovered his lower half. Even though he knew what he'd see, his heart still sank. There were new developments, his skin was very dry and had begun to flake off, revealing a hot pink, scaly layer, and he had started growing what looked to be fins on the sides of him.

Very slowly, his mind turned. If there had been someone else in the room, they would have seen it all over his face; He was beginning to understand. When he had first entered the clinic, they had given him the clipboard. The clipboard with all the childish questions, the clipboard he had circled 'Mermaid' on. His legs were forming a tail, his anatomy was that of a fish, and now he knew why he was so damn thirsty. The hrt shot wasn't a hormone replacement therapy shot, it was a Human replacement therapy shot; and he had just taken his first, and last, dose.

Kennedy completely shut down. He absent-mindedly picked the skin off his new tail. It stung, but he continued, as he stared off into nothing. The clinic claimed to offer reversal, but Sebastian said nobody had ever asked for it. He was now unable to drive, and even if he took a taxi there, he felt too much like a freak to go out. He still had his floppy ears, which are canine, and not a mermans trait; However, they hadn't shown any signs of change. He looked genetically mismatched, and felt wrong.

In the back of his mind, he could hear his ringtone blaring in the other room, while his phones text-to-speech called out: Call from Shrimp- Boyfie <3

He left it to ring. He didn't have the energy to go and pick it up, and if he had, what would he even say? How could he break this to him over the phone? His puppydog boyfriend, whom he loved so much, is different. He wasn't even the same species anymore, what if his mind began to change too? What if this wasn't the end. These questions devastated Kennedy, and even though this transformation had not affected his mind, and didn't seem to have any plan to, his anxiousness and newly intense self-hatred were working as a team to propose the worlds worst 'what-ifs'.

His phone rang again, again from Shrimp. Kennedy just grabbed the back pillow off the couch and buried his head in it, crying once more. He felt utterly hopeless and alone, there was nothing he could do about himself that would fix this. He waited until Shrimp finally stopped calling, and then looked up the living room. The remote for the tv was next to him on the side table, and since he didn't want to get his phone, he decided to watch that.

He booted it up and started flipping though channels. He could watch Bluey, or, they seemed to be rerunning Gravity Falls, though he had already seen both of those. The news channel was documenting an activist groups arrest... oh? It was in his county. That interested Ken, he sniffled and clicked the channel.

On the screen, he saw cops from all kinds of areas, a sealed off building, some confinscated vials, and what looked to be scientists, angry and screaming while being loaded into the back of police cars.

"The activist group known as 'The agency of Equality' has finally been located, and apprehended, for their biogenetic crimes against unsuspecting civilians. The group, originally known for their passionate stance on ending species biases and day-to-day discrimination, had their agenda turn dark, just this past year, when the head scientist, Sebastian Nicholson, which we suspect may not be his real name, named peaceful protest ineffective. "

Kennedy watched in silence, as a mugshot was thrown up on screen. The doctor who administered his shot stared back at him.

"Under interrogation, Sebastian revealed that their plan of action was to 'tip the scales' over on species who have never experienced organized discrimination, using the chemicals in these vials, a supplement of his own development."

A set of vials appeared on screen, and Ken recognized them as the same as the vial he had been injected with earlier this week. That made no sense! He had gone to a real, certified clinic... he wanted to say, but he couldn't.

He watched further in hopes of the reporter announcing a reversal or cure for the victims, but that never came.

"We extend our condolences to the affected. If you, or someone you know, is a victim of this crime, call the number below, and join our research team."

Kennedy's hope disappeared altogether. That "research team" was most likely just a place for people to be experimented on. There was no way he was calling that number- if he did, they couldn't guarantee reversal anyways. They arrested the only guy who could.

"Arghh!" He grabbed his head. All of his combined emotions were splitting his thoughts into fractions, and the more he tried to escape thinking about his situation, the more he learned about it. Now he knew for certain; he was stuck like this, forever. Slowly, he picked up the remote, and shut off the tv. As it clicked off, something also clicked in his brain. He had gone through almost all the stages of grief already, and it was time for acceptance. This wasn't going to change, nothing could fix this, and it was time to move on.

For the remainder of Kennedy's time without Shrimp, He learned how to move around efficiently, and properly take care of himself. He bought a furniture dolly and had it delivered to the house, which was much better than the towel method. He still couldn't hardly bear to see himself, but thankfully, he was too close to the ground to look in the bathroom mirror. He had two more days left before Shrimp was set to come home, and then he'd have to face him, but until then, Kennedy was going to ignore that problem until that moment; unfortunately intentionally avoiding checking his calls and texts.

He wanted to write out what he'd say, and what he'd do if Shrimp took it badly, just to be prepared for the worst- and he couldn't with good conscience, text him normally after so much had happened. He settled into bed, thinking of a full plan for the next couple of days. The plan that was effortlessly shattered the next morning, by the 'click' of his unlocking front door.

The closer he came, the less Kennedy remembered what he wanted to say to him. He opened his mouth to holler that he was alright, but the words were held back by his shock.

He woke up in a panic. What was happening? Was someone breaking in? Kennedy heard the door open, and within seconds, his nose picked up a very familiar scent. Shrimp was home- early. He didn't know what to do. What could he do? He scrambled out of bed, falling on the ground with an embarrassing thud. He hit the ground hard, and his eyes watered. His heart pounded in his chest as fear and adrenaline took hold of his mind. He dragged himself to the bathroom and shut the door.

"Ken?" Shrimps muffled voice called. "You alright? I heard you... fall?"

"Kenney, honey, I'm coming in, okay? You're worrying me, I can hear you breathing pretty hard."

"I saw I missed your calls, you never call me first... You didn't call me back, so I cut things short and came home. Are you in there?" Oh god, Kennedy thought. This wasn't supposed to happen! He was supposed to have more time!

But now, Shrimp was outside the bathroom door. He didn't have time to prepare any more. The doorknob wiggled, then turned.

"No! Don't!" Kennedy yelped, but the door was already opening. He jumped into the bathtub and pulled the curtain over himself to hide. He could hear Shrimp pause, confused. He didn't understand, not until he pulled the shower curtain back, and saw Kennedy, for the first time in six days.

“What… happened?” He looked Kennedy dead in the eyes, and Ken could read his emotions like a book. He wasn't disgusted or afraid, he was concerned, and it was plain as day. He took a breath, and explained everything, starting from the surprise clinic call, all the way to the news report. Shrimp nodded along as he talked, still holding his hand. Kennedy felt so good getting it all out; seeing Shrimp be so understanding eased his worries and soothed him to the core. After he finished recounting the events, Shrimp reached over and hugged him tightly. 

Kennedy couldn’t shield himself any further, no matter how small he wished himself to be. Shrimps mouth hung open as he took a step back, his eyes darting all over Ken. He covered his face with his hands, rubbed his eyes, and took a deep breath. Kennedy trembled in the bathtub, waiting for a response- any response. Shrimp said nothing. He reached into the bathtub, slowly with both hands, and began to lift Ken out. Kennedy swallowed his tears and held on to Shrimp, as he walked him to the bed, placed him in it, and sat on his usual side. Ken started to cover himself up with the blanket, but Shrimp placed his hand on Kens, stopping him. 

 

"I'm so sorry I wasn't here for you."

"I... should have waited for you." Kens heart twisted. He really should've, and that made him feel guilt like no other. 

"Don't fret it. Promise me?" Shrimp said. He caressed Ken's cheek. "Looks like we'll just have to find a morning jog alternative! I'll go make us some breakfast." 

Honestly, for Ken, that didn't sound too incredibly bad. Shrimp was very athletic, and he loved to run in the morning on the weekends. Kennedy did not like to run, but he loved his boyfriend, so he always went with. Now, he would never have to run again... but he didn't want to stop Shrimp from enjoying his weekend morning routine. He started to brainstorm ways that he could still go with, and he got quite lost in thought while Shrimp himself brainstormed in the kitchen. He imagined himself in a wagon first. That would put stress on Shrimp, to pull him along, and that's the opposite of his goal. Next, he thought about laying longways on a longboard, using his hands to propel himself! He'd be quite low to the ground, however, and he could get hurt. Plus, would he even fit on a longboard? Finally, an image appeared like lightning in his brain. He needed to get a wheelchair. 

Shrimp came back to the bedroom with two trays full of breakfast. He started to hand one to Kennedy, but halting halfway through the motion to give him a side-eye, before asking if he can still eat regular food. Ken nodded and reached out. He hadn't encountered any new allergies, so he figured it was a safe assumption. As they ate, Shrimp told him about his trip. His sister was in the hospital, thankfully nothing extremely major, but his family is full of worriers, so they had him come down anyways.

Kennedy proposed the idea of a wheelchair, and they began to look into it. It would be quite expensive, but way worth it in the long run. He would be able to go out again! The prospect was exciting. Ken and Shrimp set up a donation page with his story, and people moved by his experiences helped them to save up enough within just a few weeks. He slowly worked up the courage to call his mom and siblings, and while they were completely shocked, they still loved and supported him. His youngest sister, who was only six, was very excited to have a merman in the family. She didn't understand the gravity of the situation, which everyone agreed was alright.

Slowly but surely, Ken and Shrimps lives went back to normal. Occasionally, friends of theirs they didn't think to tell would find out and be surprised, but that became far and few between. Nobody except old and closed minded individuals mocked Ken for being a semi-mer 'freak,' and while Ken occasionally struggled, overall, he grew to be alright.

[winke77e]

Good Intentions?

So my mom asked me an interesting question: "Don't you ever feel like an asshole when you think you're correcting people? Especially if the thing they believe makes them happy?"

In this conversation specifically, about science and health facts, my answer is "No."

I don't feel like I'm being an asshole when I tell you the thing you believe about a health fact is wrong. I feel like I'm helping you learn the correct way to keep yourself healthy. I know I might sound like an ass, and be perceived as an ass, but I know your intentions are good, you might just be understanding 'the thing' wrong and I want to help you actually be safe.

For context: My mom has a fear of having a heart attack or stroke, but she doesn't talk to doctors or health professionals about staying healthy or safe. Instead she found this "Influencer" who gives "health advice", but this person has also been banned from Australia because their 'advice' was so wrong, it threatened peoples' health. My mom thinks eating excessive amounts of Celtic Salt will provide her with minerals that will boost her health, and EVERY TIME we talk about her salt, I tell her that she's eating so much sodium, those minerals mean nothing.

I know that often, people feel like they're being insulted when someone corrects something they say, but that's not always the case. In the above situation, I correct mom's misinformation because I know the thing she is doing, is going to greatly increase the chances of her experience the thing she's trying to avoid. I'm not mean about it, just persistent. I don't tell her she's stupid or anything. I don't really tell her "you're wrong". I remind her of a health fact she used to know as true, but has since been convinced to forget it?

I did tell her, when she asked why I keep talking about it, that "you might be lucky and nothing will happen, in which case I'm just annoying and we cannot have a good conversation about salt with each other. But a majority of cases show, the excessive amount of salt people eat can lead to greater risk of stroke or heart attack. And if you are unlucky and have an event, don't be surprised if the doctor talks to you about your salt."

I've been corrected too, but I've always thought it of someone trying to teach me something. And sometimes what they say is wrong, but I appreciate their attempt to help me. They state their case, I state mine, then I move on to another topic that we don't disagree on, but sometimes something they say has me questioning, and then I get to do more research :D

There's another guy at the homeless shelter who is giving me advice on how to start my own business. I cannot talk health facts with him because he believes changing his body's PH balance will protect him from cancer and that the oncoming eclipse is caused by excessive amounts of chemicals the government is exposing us to. He speaks so often and with so much confidence and authority, that I still feel bad voicing any opposing opinions. But I still try, sometimes.

( other side note, as a presenting woman, anything I do is often brushed aside as me "being a bitch", so very often anything I say or do is dismissed or taken with skepticism. Occasionally, I do find someone who is interested in learning and we ask questions together and do research and have good fun :) )

What do you guys think? I genuinely want to know your stance on correcting people or being corrected.

[leeknowslaughh]

Chemical Reaction - Bakugou x (F)Reader

I don’t write a whole lot but Bang Bang by K’Naan and Adam Levine made me really inspired! 

Background: You are a vigilante whose quirk is Chemical Manipulation: The user can manipulate the biochemicals within others by infusing a chemical reaction into an object, causing various effects. Special moves would be serotonin changes (makes the target incredibly sleepy, or nauseous,but can also speed up healing processes), dopamine rush (causes the target to get so happy they don’t want to attack her or fight back), and endorphin boost (gives a boost to pain receptors causing everything to hurt more). For safety reasons, you like to stay far away from your target, opting to use a bow with felt tipped arrows to transfer your quirk into. But you can use a rubber knife as well. For your quirk to work, the object just needs to touch the other person. 

Running down the alley, you could hear the angry yells of a certain blonde haired hero student. It wasn’t your fault that you stumbled upon his training with pro hero Endeavor, but how could you resist messing with the two hotheads. 

A few moments earlier…

Watching their training from an adjacent rooftop, you were surprised it took them so long to notice you. ‘Some heroes they are, if I were a villain I could have ended both of them,’ you thought, sighing at their obliviousness. 

This is why you decided to become a vigilante instead of applying to hero school. There were too many politics and rules involved with being a hero, so instead of signing a deal with the devil government, you decided to just save people. 

And you were dang good at it too. News article after news article argued about whether or not you were a threat or a good samaritan. The people seemed to like you, there was little pushback against your actions within the general public. Aside from the fact that you sometimes killed the villains you ran into, you were no different than a hero. 

Stretching, you stood, pulling your bow from your shoulders and notching a soft arrow, aiming right for the student hero. A smirk graced your lips as you released the arrow with a soft thwap as it quickly crossed the distance, hitting the boy in his chest with a soft thud. 

Both of their attention was quickly on you, the boy's palms heating up as he prepared to attack when he suddenly doubled over, a giddy laugh breaking through his lips as he fought the urge to lay back and relax. 

Endeavor looked at the boy curiously before turning his attention back to you, “Hi! I’m a big fan of your hero work Endeavor! Your job as a father leaves much to be desired though.” you called out, a big grin on your face. 

“Oh and don’t worry about your student, the dopamine rush will go away soon!” you called out as you moved to get off the roof quickly. Playing a trick was all well and good, but the look on Endeavor’s face told you that this may have been a mistake. 

Once you were on the street, you pulled off your mask, folding your bow into its pocket on your hip as you blended into the crowd of civilians. All was well until you heard a series of small explosions behind you and a bellow of your vigilante name. 

Turning around in horror, you were met with the blonde student, a fierce glare on his face. Yelping, you took off through the crowd, running with a newfound energy. 

Current time…

“Get back here you extra!” he yelled at you as he maneuvered through the alleyways. “No, thank you! You seem awfully angry!” you called out over your shoulder, not looking where you were going when you ran into a trashcan. 

Tumbling onto the ground, you began crawling to your feet when you froze. Heavy footsteps stopped just behind your crouched figure. Peering up at the angry boy's face, you cringed, ‘this really might be it for me’ you thought. 

He growled as he grabbed you by the shirt front, lifting you off the ground as his face got closer. You knew he was yelling at you, his face contorted in anger, but you were mesmerized by his beautiful crimson eyes. 

“You’re really hot up close” you blurted out when he paused for breath, ‘oops, didn’t mean to say that outloud.’ You just smiled as he froze, his face morphing into confusion. “What the hell!?” he yelled, but there was a lot of malice in his voice as he tried to sort through what you had said. 

Reaching a hand down to your thigh, you pulled out a toy gun, putting a large amount of energy into the faux bullet as you pushed the barrel into his chest, “sorry handsome, but I really don’t feel like getting beat up by you today” you said with a smile.

Pulling the trigger, he was hit by a soft foam bullet before looking down at the weapon. He scoffed, “what is it with you and soft weapons huh!” he yelled, shaking you in his group when he was suddenly overcome with exhaustion. 

He fought the heaviness of his eyelids as you slipped from his grasp, gently helping him to the ground. “You’ll just have to take a quick nap here, but you should totally find me some time when you’re not mad at me!” you whispered to him, running a soft hand across his cheek before he succumbed to your quirk. 

When he awoke a few minutes later, he felt his face go red as the memories of his interaction with you flooded his mind. He went through a wide range of emotions, he was angry, embarrassed and definitely more than a little curious about you. “She shot me, twice!” he groaned out in the empty alleyway. 

He was definitely going to find you again, he had a score to settle, and maybe he also wanted to know more about you. 

[giankumar-blog1]

The Spiritual Path

Without any doubt, we humans are the most advanced, aware, and enlightened among all living creatures. On top of all that, besides achieving tremendous technological, biological, and digital advances, we exploit and destroy nature from land and sea to air. Our phenomenal minds have enabled us to create the divine and the devil, discover from the stars to the subatomic particles, and, of course, now we have artificial intelligence as the latest buzzword. Despite all that, when we see anger, anxiety, and destruction, we wonder how we can consider ourselves to be homo-sapiens – wise when we are not. All because the mind drifts excessively toward the material side, identifying and attaching egoistically to all we can accumulate rather than balancing the mind with spiritual insight. We desperately need to align our body and mind with the third quotient, the soul, which we do not know much about what it is and how to experience. 

Let me elaborate on some spiritual features we commonly ignore and do not follow. 

The mind is an abstract concept transmitting the electro-chemical flow of energy carrying information through neurons via neural pathways, which we refer to as thoughts. It is not who we are but what we are since we always claim body and mind as ours. The mind tends to operate in dualities of opposites, primarily towards external benefits to choose for its material wants. The spiritual way to transcend this phenomenal mind is first to check and guide its wandering nature from its random and reckless behaviour, overwhelmed by constant needs, identifying and attaching to all its demands and desires. 

First, seek clarity and contentment. The clarity in all that we presume to know makes realizing our objectives and goals easier, giving our lives a boost of meaning and fulfilment. Further, contentment offers a sense of happiness and serenity with one's current situation rather than continuously aiming for more or comparing oneself to others. It is about embracing contentment in the here and now instead of constantly seeking approval from others or wanting more material benefits.

The second is social companionship; we spiritually grow higher through contact with learned and wise ones. You should associate with those insightful ones and walk with them to become clear-sighted because of the indirect psychological influence wise companions impart in making what we are at any given time. 

The third is to be in meditative awareness, existentially celebrating life from one moment to the next rather than unduly brooding over the past and overly anxious about the future in the display of your living to show more to others what you are rather than be what you indeed are.

Fourth, the mind can be your foe or friend. It is an instrument for you to use and not get used to through its ongoing demands and emotional desires. In this way, living in a higher consciousness is possible without being dominated by the subconscious section of the mind. Always be alert and aware to introspect as an impartial and uninvolved witness of how your mind operates at every given moment toward your feelings, thoughts, and actions, and not get carried away with mindless beliefs in a superstitious mindset. 

Fifth, please remember freedom from the mind prevails when love dominates hate, kindness replaces meanness, and selflessness triumphs over selfishness. Further, the mind remains uncontrollable without being able to experience its superconscious section, which we refer to as the soul. For that, we need to know and understand what the soul is, which most of us are ignorant of. It is for this reason that the mind runs on auto-mode, from its egoist thoughts, collecting, processing, and deciding from its lower or subconscious section randomly and recklessly in dual opposites, creating bouts of happiness and sadness, taking us on a roller-coaster ride in dualities to choose this or that for its likes and dislikes in a selfish manner.

Sixth, you are that spiritual being going through human experiences. A subtle and sublime connection exists between the observer observing the observed through the mind. You are that absolute aware energy (spirit) contained in the individual soul to make the mind first aware and, if attentive, conscious. You are that pure observation, which spontaneously witnesses unquestioningly without any justifications, neither identifying nor attaching to the mind's emotional desires. Spirit is the supreme universal ability of energy in the form of awareness; the soul is that individual observer representing the superconscious section of the mind containing the spirit, and the remaining cognitive section functions in duality under conscious and subconscious thoughts to feel, think, and act to appease its body and mind.

Seventh is that self-realization of knowing "That Art Thou," the divine nondual aware energy playing in the illusions of life in dualities to experience what life is all about OR, according to the Second Law of Thermodynamics – creating that disorder, characterized as a quantity known as entropy, which always increases. In our case, making the mind recklessly go into disorder via thoughts that create, sustain, and destroy so that the absolute indivisible supreme energy can recreate itself from its cyclical vibrations. 

Hence, you are that universal abstraction in mind, the Absolute spirit without any personal "I, me, or mine" or the ultimate unchanging reality, which Vedic science calls "Parabrahman." Contained in a temporal body and mind with a name and gender, appear and disappear, experience dualities of life to exercise the power of choice. Hence, while your body and mind are active and alive, choose to balance the two by materially being rich and healthy and spiritually human on the other end. 

For more information please visit www.giankumar.com