#you're fucked if you can't labor so it's time you accept that it isn't a virtue and people who can't still deserve support because buddy

[naamahdarling]

Labor, on its own, has no inherent value. The willingness or ability to labor does not translate to virtue. It can confer financial value, since everyone should be compensated for their labor, but it absolutely does not have inherent moral value.

Disabled people are not obligated to perform for you. They are not required, morally, to break themselves in order to earn some sort of personal value and prove their "worth" to society. They do not need to exhaust every possible means of survival to warrant aid, or spend the entirety of their existence pursuing the same amount of production as others even though it takes everything they have and leaves no room for anything else. They are not obligated to push their limits.

If that pisses you off because YOU have to work to the limit, or beyond, your problem is that you are not being paid enough or you are being asked to do the work of more than one person. Not that disabled people get help for "nothing".

You deserve better, too, you lovable dingus! Every single thing that benefits disabled people will benefit you and the ones you love, either immediately, or eventually. All of it!

[kryannoy]

Hello! Hope you have a nice day~ If you are accepting req, could you please do a prompt where Mitsuya s/o's wanting him to choke her for her new kink. Like, legit choking hurting her. I wanna know how would his reaction be since he is truly a gentleman but a wolf in a sheep's clothing KYAAAH gosh. Thank you for your time! <3

genre: nsfw, smut characters: mitsuya x reader warnings: choking, mitsuya isn't a gentleman :(( but he takes care of you after a/n: choking isn't really my forte though i do not hate it. thank you for requesting and have a nice day too!

He would most definitely not initiate it, nor the idea ever crossed his mind. He would never want to hurt you and would never want to degrade you—he finds choking as an act of degradation.

However when you, his lovely partner, specifically requested him to do so, it's not that he can't say no. It's because you yourself wanted it. You want to be choked, you want to be hurt. By him.

"Tap my hand if it's too much, darling." He's hovering over you, shirtless. His hand on your neck but not squeezing just yet. You can tell he's nervous by how the tips of his fingers are cold and twitching.

You nodded in response and he can feel your throat moved when you gulped down your excitement. To reassure him more, you lightly tap him just like how he showed you.

He leans down to kiss your forehead so sweetly. He hovers over you again to look at your begging eyes. Gosh, how can he control himself when you look so desperate?

You start to feel pressure on your neck, surely he can feel your pulse beating through his fingers. He thrusts up into you, eliciting a moan out of you from surprise. Your throat is being pressed even more and it's getting harder to breathe or say anything but you can still take it. You still want him to do more, to go further.

His thrusts are consistent now, thinking that this is okay but to his surprise, it's not okay yet for you as you reach his hand on your throat to tighten his grip even more. You see a bit of fear in his eyes before he moans as he follows your lead. He trusts you to tap his hand if you can't take it.

He squeezes your throat harder like he would grip his sheets for dear life when he's jacking off of you. Your eyes roll back and your tongue is stuck out by instinct. He can feel you tighten around him. Picking up his pace, his pelvis keeps pounding into yours roughly. Wet squelching sounds fill the hot room, labored breaths mixing in creating the environment even more lewd and dirty. It turns him on to see you being aroused by this. The sensations lead you to reach your climax faster than usual.

White cream formed on the base of his cock, gliding in and out easily it drives both of you crazy. He moves his hips rapidly when he's close while you're sucking him in.

"Fuck, baby. Didn't know you were this kinky." He grins. That was it for you as you creamed around him so messily. His hips stuttered and he keeps nudging in more into your sloppy hole as he let a dragged out groan.

He releases you and he can see the red marks on your skin. He kisses them softly, all over it apologetically. His hands are on either side of your head, gently stroking your hair in reassurance.

"You alright, babe?" He kisses your ear. "Hm?"

You nod tiredly in response so he doesn't think you were hurt. You are, but in a pleasing way.

"Let's do that more often." Your voice came out hoarse and raspy which makes him chuckle.

"I'll put it into consideration."

[moodymisty]

Author's Note: Inspired by this post. You can blame all of the unhinged horniness there for this unhinged horniness. Someone there put the idea down as space wolves or Luna wolves and I chose Luna wolves because @bispecsual gave me the brain rot. And since I'm a massive masochist, I write.

Relationships: Like five unnamed Luna Wolves/Fem!Reader

Warnings: Vaguely NSFW, Very hornily charged bullying, Astartes are very curious and grabby, Demeaning speech, Just imagine you're that one girl on the couch in the meme surrounded by massive dudes but those dudes are 8 foot tall genetic abominations, Gangbang implications(?) my warning tags are getting weird as fuck

To the Luna Wolves, serfs are a new idea- a curiosity.

But after their good deeds upon a planet of little known renown and placement in the galaxy, a few of their population offered to serve them.

Before them, most serfs were primarily stationed on Terra, and on Luna Wolves ships instead those roles were given to low ranking tech priests, or penal labor. Even then however the Astartes saw them rarely, until now.

Some of the newly conquered planet offered sons as aspirants, of which they eagerly accepted. The Luna Wolves have been eager to grow their numbers now under Horus’ leadership.

Others, older and ablebodied, offered themselves to serve as serfs.

Many Luna Wolves can't remember the last time they've seen a normal human for more than a few moments, ushering them to safely into a Stormbird or pushing them from a firefight. Or seeing their corpse flung on the far reaches of a battlefield, out of sight and mind.

In their brief periods of reprieve from battle, it's now been a struggle for their captains and lieutenants to keep their men on task, now that serfs scurry around them completing various tasks. Particularly for the youngest marines among them, it's been a constant to stop them from reaching towards the serfs, interrupting their sanctioned duties.

They will get to you once finished with your brothers, is what the current quartermaster on duty or Astartes captain says. Though haste to have their armor cleaned or bolter clips loaded isn't the thing on their mind, but instead an almost dog-like curiosity.

But after their superiors leave, they always end up crowding around you again. These astartes have barely seen baseline humans in decades, let alone a woman.

It's suffocating.

You were nothing on your home planet. Insignificant. You’d hoped joining them would bring you purpose, something to be proud of. And to get off the planet that had you feeling so trapped. And while you got your wish, in a way the thing trapping you had merely changed form.

They have you cornered in the armoring room now; Like Wolves. You went from trapped on that no name planet to trapped by five different astartes. Your palms feel hot and sweaty, but not as hot as your face.

“You’re so small, you’re going to get lost on the ship,” One says.

He grabs for your chin and holds it for a moment, forcing you to look into his grey eyes. they're stoic, but you can see he's enjoying something about this. Though he allows you to shrink away and out of his grip, looking downward at their chest armor. Or anywhere else that isn't their faces.

“Or trampled,” Says another. The one who spoke previous gives him a sour look before passively aggressively replying.

“We’ll make sure that doesn’t happen.”

One who hasn't spoken yet has his top armor removed, his lower half unpowered. He was training, using it as dead weight. Training concluded blood now drips down from his nose and lips but is mostly dried, partly covered healing bruises. If he looks like this, you can't help but wonder how his opponent looks.

It’s distracting.

You don’t know if it’s some sort of illness or insanity from being locked in this ship for so long; It makes him look more attractive. You hope to whatever deity or god or whatever exists out in the stars that he doesn't notice you’re staring. That he doesn't notice the way your heart is pounding in your chest and what feels like your cunt as well.

He does. As do the others. You can't kid yourself and think that with their hearing and smell that they haven't noticed that you're boiling alive, and that your body is screaming fuck me fuck me fuck me fuck me-

“He won. Out of one hundred men.”

Your gut twists and the marine behind you laughs quietly. It's deep, enough so that you swear you can feel it in your chest. You would squeeze your thighs together for some relief, but you don’t think you can without stumbling over.

“She likes the winners. Looks like you’re out.” He gestures to a fellow marine that gives him another sour look. You briefly wonder what he lost at to deserve such a jab.

“I should return to my duties,”

You meekly say, hoping to remove yourself from the embarrassment and scurry away to another quarter of the ship.

One of them blocks your path and traps you from leaving, picking you up by the armpits and holding you before putting you back down between them all. It's like you weigh nothing to them, and that they can simply jostle and swing you around like a toy.

“I’ll tell your quartermaster you were helping us.” He jerks his head in the direction of a marine clad in only the casual clothing they wear out of their ceramite. Now the focus of your attention he rolls his shoulder, and you can see the muscles of his neck and around his collarbone flex.

You swallow a knot in your throat that felt like it was going to choke you. Your hands clench tight, nails sharp against your palms. You're going to have a heart attack, you swear it. Tears well in your eyes but they don't break your waterline just yet, from sheer will alone. If any of them say another word, call you cute, small, soft, that you smell so sweet, you swear they’ll roll down your cheeks like a waterfall.

“He wants you to put on his armor. The others are always so rough, you’re so gentle with those little hands.”

The marine reaches for you, and in your back step you stumble and accidentally bump into the one who hasn't spoken at all; Just watching and sitting. You stumble over his massive armored boot and end up falling into a sit on his thigh, legs parted over it. His massive armored hand comes to grip your waist, to keep you from falling over. It covers a good portion of your stomach in the process.

You’re so tightly wound just the simple pressure alone is enough to have you clamp a hand your mouth to avoid letting out a moan that would kill you right then and there, if you weren’t already dead. Your knees quiver, toes just barely touching the ground. His massive height makes it impossible to fully stand with his thigh between your legs.

You know they can smell the way you’re leaking and staining your underwear, hear the way your heart is racing like it's going to explode. You’re half afraid you might make his ceramite thigh plate slick.

You can feel their eyes on you. They look at you like you’re food thrown to a pack of starving wolves.

One suddenly steps forward, and pushes his battle brother out of his way with a harsh slam of ceramite on ceramite before undoing the latch his belt.

“I go first.”

[aibidil]

we gotta stop telling moms* to learn to ask for and accept help

this is a pseudo-mental-health bullshit way of subtly individualizing a multilayered structural and societal (often classist) problem wherein people in general, parents especially, mothers specifically, and neurodivergent mothers to the extreme, are left to fend for ourselves in ways that are frankly unprecedented in the history of human beings

I'm sure there are people who struggle to ask for help. (I've never been one of them.) What I'm saying is, even if they could learn to, it wouldn't solve anything!

Let's look at the assumptions behind "you need to learn to ask for help!"

That there's someone to ask. Who tf are we meant to be asking? If you live in a culture where families have scattered, you might not have any family nearby. Maybe you're lucky enough to have a partner, but if so, I feel like we can already assume you're asking for help from them, and them from you. (If you're not, that's a whole separate issue.) But often the overwhelm isn't such that an equitable division of labor between two parents can solve the problem. I have one non-partner family member nearby whom I can ask for help, and that actually feels pretty lucky.

That people you ask will agree to help. I recently messaged the entire school community list begging someone to drive one of my kids home on Wednesdays, figuring that many people must be going in that direction anyway and surely someone would be willing to stop the car and let my kid out at the end of my street. When I didn't get any responses from the wider community, I sent a smaller plea to the parents in my kids' classes. Nothing! Nada!

That our problems are such that others can (easily) help. There's a tragic het script that's like "I don't bother to ask him for help because I end up doing more work to get him to help than it would've been to do myself" (and yes that's fucked), but that's not even what I'm pointing to here. There are so many ways that the structures of our society make it so that people can't get help from others. School pickup, for example: most schools have policies that only parent/guardians or someone given prior permission can pick up students. If a parent is unexpectedly in a jam, this makes finding help a lot trickier and probably involves calling the school and trying to grant last-minute permission. Helping a kid with homework, for example: No matter what I do, teachers email/call me. This means that if I assign this task to my partner or some other person, I have to constantly be an in-between who is like, the arbiter of information. Going to the pharmacy: once I went to the pharmacy to help a neighbor with a kid who had been vomiting for 12 hours straight, and it was so difficult. First I had to pick up their insurance card, write down the kid's name, dob, etc. I still didn't know half the answers to things they asked me as I painstakingly eventually managed to pick up this kid's prescription.

That you have money to pay for outsourcing. Often, when it comes down to it, the only way our society seamlessly allows for help is through monetizing the tasks. It's possible to hire housecleaners or a nanny, for example. You can pay for grocery delivery. But (even if you're totally fine with becoming an employer, which I've never been) is that financially within reach for most people? No!!!

That the tasks that are hardest for you are tasks that can be outsourced. With adhd, my biggest chore struggles are getting myself to water the plants and getting myself to fill the pill organizers. These are not the easiest chores to get help with! I mean, even laundry would be easier, as you could chuck it all into a giant bag and hand it over to a service to be washed. But plants? They're all over my house and on different watering schedules. The pill organizers? That's controlled substances (Adderall, baby) and it's confusing with multiple times of day, etc -- who is going to take that on? Even my partner is too worried to get it wrong.

That, even if you have money, the service you need exists. I really want help with food preparation, but I have MCAS and specific dietary needs. Also, I don't want help with dinners (my partner does that) so much as I want help with snacks/lunch. I know what I would make if I had the energy to. There are no services in my area that could help me. I guess I could hire a personal chef, but I can't even begin to afford that and even then, many wouldn't work bc they're not all willing to work with different dietary needs. I tried finding something I could order by mail, but there's nothing that's a great fit and it's all too expensive for me.

The problem is not that moms don't know how to ask for and accept help. Every time we say that, we reinforce the idea that the problem is an individual one, that the fault lies with moms. It's a structural one, and it doesn't. Many of us are well aware of how to ask for help. If we aren't asking, it's because we know it's futile.

*The choice to gender this as "moms" is a conscious one, even though it also applies to some men and nb people. In my view, it really is a gendered problem that overwhelmingly affects women who are mothers. Because of that, generalizing to "people" or "parents" seems to me like it would be watering down the problem, at best, or erasing the gendered component of the problem, at worst. We also shouldn't say "you need to learn to ask for help" to dads, nonbinary parents, and non-parents—but we generally don't say that to those groups anyway! The vast majority of the time, I see this being said specifically to mothers. Moreover, the response that dads get to asking for help is often different. A dad asking for help strikes people as going above and beyond and is therefore more likely to trigger people to actually help him. Think about dads whose wife goes out of town and all these people bring him casseroles. Our society is often really good at giving some help—but only in extreme cases (emergencies like acute sickness or hospital stays, grief, ….a dad alone with kids for some reason, etc), and moms asking for help with mundane things simply does not count as a justification for help in most people's minds.

[nothorses]

i regularly help my mom with door dash and i see this all the time. sometimes we get an order that's, say, $6 going down the road and we think "oh that's really good!" and we assume that would be like, a $2-$3 tip, right?

no.

often when someones food hasn't been picked up in a long time, door dash will raise the base pay drivers are given to entice people to take it. we've taken entire family dinners to people for 0 tip because of this and it pisses us off every time... my entire family is disabled and other than our social security this is our main income.

if you can't afford to pay someone for their labor, you can't afford the fucking food! go eat somewhere else!

Also, like, doordash calculates the cost based on the price of the meal rather than the distance driven; your one-person Wendy's meal that takes me 20 minutes to get to you (between the drive-through line, the drive itself, finding your place, and the handoff) still only pays me, like, $2.50.

Your tip might be another $1.50 on that, and that's $4 for a half hour of my time; then I have to wait and possibly drive a ways back into the dash zone just to get another job, and by the time I'm on my way to the next job, I might have made $4 for, at minimum, 30 minutes of labor. If you short me the tip on that as well, I made $2.50. If that happens to me again, I make $5 for the whole hour.

Bear in mind that the hours you're most likely to make any money during the day amount to like, 2 hours in the afternoon and another 4 in the evening.

And like you said, drivers don't see the tip until after they deliver the order, at the soonest. You can finish a whole order thinking you're getting paid fairly, only to find out afterward that the customer fucked you over.

The zone I started working in also had the only Safeway in the area, and the Safeway contracted us for deliveries; customers didn't have access to the Doordash site/app, and literally could not tip us except in cash when we showed up (which I only ever had happen once).

Safeway doesn't tip.

At one point I drove 20 minutes from the Safeway to the customer, and that's after waiting in line for 15 minutes to pick the order up, and before another 20 minute drive back into the delivery zone to get my next order, plus the handoff. About an hour of labor. The Safeway order paid me $7.

That's less than half of minimum wage in this area.

Drivers in that zone tell each other not to take Safeway orders because they don't tip, and they're never worth the pay. The catch is that every time you turn an order down, your % of orders accepted lowers; if it drops under 70%, you receive less orders for less pay.

So even if you do turn down an order that you know isn't going to pay well, you're punished by the app, and given fewer opportunities to make money, period. You are pressured to work for less, and to gamble on shit orders in the vain hope of a decent tip to compensate.

Servers rely on your tips. They do not have an option. This isn't a hypothetical; you are causing direct harm. Yes, Doordash needs to fucking do better, and it's not your fault they're set up like that. But your asshole choices have an impact on us because of that, and knowing that, you can choose not to cause harm.

[zevranunderstander]

living and being born in a western country, especially as a white person is so infuriating. like. you're privileged and you can get everything you want at a store and all that but like, so many of the things you can buy are direct results of genocides and massive exploitations and labor rights abuses, and you can't even do anything about it. no one even really tells you about this most of the time. everyone here has a phone and it's just kind of accepted that black children die in some mines *somewhere in africa* for this, but that doesn't stop anyone from buying a fucking phone each year

and trying to bring this up always shows how comfortable everyone is exploiting the global south, because then it's always 'well, me not doing this won't change anything so why should I stop? everyone else is doing it too!', and the deeper you dig the more you realise that really any action you take makes the life quality of everyone in the global south so much worse

and if you advocate for climate change action, or go vegan, or stop buying plastic, or try to only buy fair trade, your impact obviously is only very marginally doing anything, but your interaction with the fact that western civilization is built entirely on exploitation makes everyone around you so fucking uncomfortable, that they need to turn you into the laughing stock for being such a hippie or whatever, when it should be our basic fucking responsibility to try not to be complicit in systems of systemic exploitation if we can, and people who are so comfortable in their luxury fucking laugh at people for protesting climate action and call them delusional while people in India die of heat strokes en masse

and this is just my personal take, but I hate (hate!) the sentiment on here that's like 'well it's all corporations fault, *they* need to change, we need regulations', which isn't wrong, but it's literally not gonna happen without pressure being applied. corporations only care about the profit margin and if that means burning everything on the planet alive so be it, and government regulations are slow and usually even slower because of relentless lobbying, they aren't gonna do anything if their user base is comfortable with their exploitation.

idk maybe it's just me but if you are comfortable explaining to a mother of some child that just died in some mining accident in africa, that yeah, you produced more plastic waste in a week than any of them do in half a year, and yeah, you bought two phones in two years, and yeah, you love shopping on shein and going to primark, and yeah, you eat cashews imported from the southern hemisphere that are produced on slave labour and that use massive amounts of water for one fruit, but really none of these things are your fault because it's not you who needs to change its the corporations, and I don't think you're entirely wrong, but like, I won't just sit in fucking Omelas paradise and enjoy a comfortable life on the blood of the other half of the world population just because I got lucky and was born in as a white person in Europe.

[lemonspurple]

Stuff That I've Read Around 2024

Reading has always been a means to an end for me, as in for school or maybe to learn a necessary skill. Totally unexpectedly, this lead to me associating books with labor. Believe it or not, but if you remove any expectations or goals and accept that literature can also be something that purely serves as joyful activity, it makes for a rather neat hobby. In the beginning I fell into the usual pitfalls of trying to get the best book. Whatever the fuck that is. This is where most people quit again, as being the guy who reads Shakespeare at the café and being the guy who actually wants to read Shakespeare are two completely different things, yet often confused. Good books, in my case, make me think things like "I hate that I love this". If you open yourself to genres and topics you might normally not interact with, ratings lose their meaning and what remains is a lust for the unknown. In this spirit I'd like to catalogue what I've read and enjoyed recently.

Exhalation - Ted Chiang

Together with "Story of Your Life & Others" it became one of these moments that leave you a bit empty, once you're done, knowing that it will take a while until you find something that changes your perspective as dramatically. It also became a favorite thing for me to gift, as I think it is very "beginner friendly". What I mean by that is that it hooks people who don't read as much with it's exotic subjects, often leaving them surprised that such things exist. Secondly, both books are a bunch of short stories, that are easier to digest than a trilogy. Some of them are a bit boring, but so is this review. So who am I to judge?

Fukushima Devil Fish - Susumu Katsumata

I can still vividly remember how I said "???" out loud after reading the last pages. As I read the German version, I'm not aware if the order is the same for the English translation, but the first and last story somehow stuck with me. I can't tell you what I like and I also don't know why I would recommend it to anyone. But somehow this work left footsteps in my brain that I revisit every once in a while.

Snuff - Chuck Palahniuk

Someone gifted this to me with the disclaimer that it is a rather controversial book and it really only takes the blurb to understand that. The work bent my expectation multiple times and surprised me in ways I never saw coming and still managed to almost read as if I'm listening to a strange chorus. The book sure isn't a miracle, even better, written in poor taste, depending on who you ask, but if you're willing to see past that, it becomes a rare refresher in the world that is overrun by heroes journeys.

The Box Man - Abe Kōbō

By now the impression grows, that I either enjoy confusing books or authors, which last name gets highlighted by grammar correction. The Box Man was my first encounter with literature that broke linear storytelling and introduced me into the realm of the surreal. Not as in the sense of Murakami, where he blends in some fantastical elements (you can read between the lines that I'm not a big fan), but by warping the entire book. In addition, I also read his work "The Woman in the Dunes", but as with older literature, I perceive it as slow burn, which is my way of avoiding to say chewy at times. But again, it depends on who you ask. Often, especially with new literature, I get the impression that the characters are written in a way that the reader can relate to quickly. Older works, seem to give less of a fuck. Hello, I'm the weirdest sucker you ever knew and for the next 20 pages I'm going to describe the room I'm in.

Uzumaki - Junji Ito

This book is rather popular and often praised in reviews. Honestly speaking, I don't think anyone is reading this post anymore, which means that I'm probably only talking to myself. Hence, there is no one to mind some off topic. I imagine, that everyone has had an intrusive thought or two. If you've ever seen one of these pyramids made out of champagne glasses you know exactly what I mean. In my case, every time I order a kebap that is wrapped into aluminum foil, I have this urge to throw it as far as I can. It's so compact and has a nice density that would make it perfect for that. Would it remain intact or explode when it lands? I haven't done it yet, because I find it difficult to waste food and I also struggle to decide if I were to just throw it or hurl it like a frisbee for the best result. Anyhow, that's why recommend at least one book of Junji Ito.

You can find more books I read on goodreads here.

[ivoryminitower]

Echoes of Home: 24 - Tsu'na ("limitations")

Echoes of Home: FFXIV AU OC – WoLs on Earth

I pushed a man with my hand and he fell down.

Husband picked a man up with one hand and threw him.

I have not thought about my strength before.  My strength was needed to wear my armor and swing my weapon.  My strength versus another's strength was never an issue, unless I needed to kill them.

But this seems to be a world full of people who are not as strong as Husband and me.  With things made for people not as strong as Husband and me.  I can perhaps break things easily.  I can perhaps break people easily.

People here are limited in many ways...though if all people are limited, I suppose Husband and I are the unusual ones.

Husband took time to compose recipes, but actually made the table in less than two hours.  Yet he did not deliver it for two days because Earth people need more time than that to make a table.

The table could have fit in his inventory.  He could simply have taken it out at the bar.  Yet he wanted it carried from the Hartman house to the Pit because Earth people do not have inventory.

Either of us could carry the table with one hand.  Yet he wanted the two of us to carry it together because Earth people do not have our strength.

So many limitations, so many restrictions.  All to seem like Earth people.

Yet as far as I can tell Earth people have jobs that pay money.  Husband does not seem concerned about money, even though we have very little.  Though we are at least able to gather our own food and make our own clothes, which some Earth people can do but most do not seem to.

When we brought the table to Sam at the Pit, he looked at it and said, "You're kidding, right?  I can't afford this."

Husband said, "Not asking you to.  This is a replacement for the one I broke."

"Yeah, but that was a piece of crap.  This...isn't."

"Thank you.  I like to think we don't make crap."

"You really made this?  Outa what?"

"Hand-cut maple.  Linseed oil.  Glue."

Sam bent down to look under the table. "No screws?"

"Just joints."

"Well...I mean...if you want, sure, but...the rest of the tables are crap too, to be honest.  This is kinda nice for this place."

"Hm.  Wanna replace them too?"

"I can't afford that!"

Husband smiled. "Well, tell you what.  Why don't you open up a tab for us, and when you think we've had enough to cover however many tables we do for you, you let us know.  That work for you?"

"...You seriously wanna remodel my place for beer?"

"Honestly, no.  Can you get hard cider?"

Husband calls this "networking", establishing "connections", building reputation.  We are starting to have a reputation as people who work for things other than money and who are willing to pay our debts with labor.  And, thanks to that first broken table, as people not to be fucked with.

He seems to think this is the sort of Earth person Earth people can understand and accept.  It did work with the Hartmans, it seems to work with Sam, and it may be working at the diner and the bar.  The pretzels and tarts continue to sell well and people like the music.  And some people compliment Husband on how he put Dewey Brower in his place.  Dewey Brower and his friends may not be as accepting, but we have not encountered them since that night.

But I tire of restrictions.  I miss being able to fly to a distant land, take out my sword or my bow or my grimoire, and hunt dragons, or chimeras, or bears.  Husband says this world has bears.

Perhaps we need to look for a higher-level area.

[truckfreaks]

hi! if you’re still doing readings, i’d love a reading on a certain area of my life: my transition (ftm). i’d love if you could use the tarot of the unknown deck. i’d love to know how people will react to my transitioning, and/or when i’ll begin my journey of physical changes (i.e cutting my hair, starting t, top surgery, etc). if this makes you uncomfortable in any way, please disregard! thank you 🩵

hey bud! sorry for the delay on this one, i wanted to give it a proper writeup and I had lent the deck to my friend. For you, I drew Two of Cups reversed, Two of Wands reversed, and 5 of Wands. Page of Cups also fell out during shuffle.

✨️👁✨️👁✨️👁✨️👁✨️👁✨️👁✨️👁✨️👁✨️

Transitioning is a goal that you're passionate about, but you may find it somewhat overwhelming. Poor planning can cause issues here in your ultimate outcome, so please make sure you take care to slow down and really consider all of your options*. It could also be that you are, justifiably, a little afraid of what could happen - but nothing ventured, nothing gained. Trust your gut, and look out for yourself. Don't compromise your vision - but first make sure you've got a clear picture of it in your head, too.

Transition is, for some folks on the outside looking in, difficult to wrap your head around at times. Expect tension, confusion, poor communication, misunderstandings that devolve into arguments - it doesn't inherently mean anything negative, so don't feel as though you're being rejected just yet. It could simply be that just as you may feel overwhelmed by transitioning, maybe they are overwhelmed by the concept of it. At the end of the day reaching understanding will always require some degree of emotional labor. But also be prepared to accept that, unfortunately, some people are just assholes, and you may feel those relationships will be hurt by their reaction.

Honestly, the vibe I get from 2 of Wands reversed and 5 of Wands being sandwiched around 2 of Cups reversed is that you may encounter someone in your life who doesn't *explicitly* mean you harm by conflicting with you regarding your transition, but plays devils advocate with you in that really annoying and condescending way people do sometimes... like, concern trolling? But that isn't to say they aren't actually concerned, they just suck at trying to see your perspective. Have some patience with em, if you can bear to, but if you can't - they can get with the program, or fuck off, you know?

The reason I say it isn't overtly malicious is because of Page of Cups. Which sometimes signifies some kind of happy, unexpected, pleasant surprise, or a hopeful feeling... So that's why I say have faith in this person and keep trying, cause they might surprise you.

I don't really get anything from this reading regarding time frame *specifically*, but I do get the overarching vibe that it is telling you, "Hey! I know you're excited, but hold your horses. Take your time to do this right - it's gonna affect your life, and you deserve the best the world can offer you!"

✨️👁✨️👁✨️👁✨️👁✨️👁✨️👁✨️👁✨️👁✨️

*(IMO, good advice for anyone looking at transition anyway. It's so important to do thorough vetting of the medical team you decide on, and it takes TIME. I've been looking for *just* a top surgeon for 4 years, at least.)

[frenziedslashers]

bestie i really wish i was strong and had like the endurance or stamina or whatever to do physical work 😭

instead i sometimes gotta sit down when doing the dishes

and i can't go to the gym cause social anxiety

working out on my own doesn't work cause no discipline

if i have no one to hold me accountable nothing happens 😭

i wanna be cool like you qwq

- ��

Awh Knifey, don't think that way about yourself! Just because you have to sit down while doing dishes doesn't mean you aren't strong. Honestly, house chores are very draining for me. I have a habit of overworking myself the moment I step outside in attempts to outwork my brothers(Which I always do because he is very lazy tbh...) I also have this fear at jobs that if I don't work hard enough I'll be fired. So I do my best to work my damned hardest, even if I hurt myself in the process 💀

I have an issue with being unable to do indoor chores due to the fact that I just get bored with them? They're so boring and time consuming, and I always feel more productive with chores that I do outside. I HATE doing the dishes, cooking, cleaning my room, etc. But I always do by the end of the week lmao. I also hate dirty houses so 👹🔪 my brain is whacky.

You're doing great things though! Physical work isn't for everyone. Personally I can't go to gyms either due to social anxiety. Closest to a gym I've been to is when they forced us to do weights class in 9th grade and I out squatted everyone in my class because a guy challenged me 💅💅 I will always accept a challenge fr.

I live out, about 10 miles from town so I just go for runs or bike rides on the paved back roads away from people lmao. The people that pass me on the road are all farmers and ranchers that I know and are like family to me so it doesn't fluster me as much as working out in a gym does. I'm just livin' my best life away from society, because fuck people.

If you DO want to get better as physical labor and shit I suggest a lot of mental love and some small stuff first. When you accomplish ANYTHING and I mean ANYTHING, always compiment yourself. Be all "Hey, I did that!" You could have literally swept off the porch or picked up and moved a lawn chair, but praise yourself for it. Remind yourself that what you do is great.

I grew up doing hard yard work, and cutting down trees, and I'm not sure what your home is like, but if you go out and do one thing a day that helps me to. If you're able to! Literally go out and rake a section of your yard, or pull a handful of leaves (Keep hydrated though, I've made the mistake of going outside dehydrated and the sun licherally murders me.)

Also indoor at home exercises are BOMB. I have a small routine I do before bed, and itt wears me out enough that I'm then able to fall asleep faster! 50 Squats, 50 sit-ups, 25 spider-man's, a 30-second plank, and a 30-second wall-sits is what I do anywhere from 1-4 times in a row depending how tired I am. YouTube and TikTok have a lot of simpler and easer exercises to do so you don't overwork yourself when you first start! And if you miss a few days, or even weeks, so be it? It happens, I have self-discipline issues too 😭 I mainly only do them when I remember, feel bad about myself, or I just can't fall asleep.

Yoga is also really good! You can do it while doing other things depending on the pose! I really enjoy it tbh, I should get back into it but I have no time anymore or I forget it exists when I could be doing it lmao. If anything, just drink water, and accomplish small things and remind yourself that you're doing your very best. Remember that your very best will never be the same and everyone elses very best either, because we all have different life styles, body types, and mental types, and hey, that's okay. It's what differs us from everyone else. You're doing great, hon.

I know you didn't ask for advice but I felt like sharing so 👹 take it as you will. AND REMEMBER THAT YOU'RE SUPER SEXY AND AMAZING AND ILY, MUAH

[ink-flavored]

for the writer's ask game: #5 and #20!

Thank you! <3

5. What is your favourite trope to write for?

Perhaps I've been noticed, but I really love writing "idiots to lovers" stuff. Where they're both so stupid about each other that they can't recognize that they're having someone be stupid about them. That's the good shit. Exquisite 🤌

20. Do you have one piece of advice for your fellow writers?

Normally, I find these questions really hard, but I've been thinking about One Particular Thing I see a lot of my writer friends—all my artist friends, really—struggle with all the time.

Be kind to your past self. Be kind to your past projects that are maybe a little cringe and you could totally write them better now. Be kind to your inexperience, because how were you ever supposed to get better as a writer (artist, musician, etc. plug in your favorite trade here) if you didn't create all that art in the past? How were you supposed to know how to improve if you didn't write that cringey one-shot, or that half-baked short story with the shitty plot twist, or the novel that didn't really have a plot and went nowhere? Are you going to look back on the projects you really love now in five years and disparage them because you'll be better? Is that what you'd want an experienced writer to do to you? Everyone talks about how you should be kind to new artists of any age—so how come we don't follow the same example for our past selves?

When I go back and re-read my old writing, yeah I can see how it could be fixed, but I don't hold that against it. I accept it and love it for what it is, whether the problem is messy prose, weird pacing, conflicting motivations, too many plot contrivances, or what-have-you. There are plenty of things I wish I could fix about even my recent projects, that are too late to fix because it's just out there now.

And it's funny, because every time I say that, "Oh, I would rewrite the whole beginning," or "Oh, I would change this here and put that there and cut out this whole part," anyone who has ever read the story in question comes at me with pitchforks immediately. They don't want it to be different, because they love it the way it is. They can't see the mistakes I do. And if you think about it, isn't it insulting to your audience to say that the thing they like is bad? Are you not insulting the people who genuinely, honestly love your story for what it is, by telling them it sucks? You aren't the only person who your story belongs to anymore.

Just... be nice to yourself. In two, three, five, ten years, everything you're doing right now will look just as messy as the things you're disparaging now. You wouldn't tell someone else their project fucking sucks and you can do so much better because you have sooo much more experience, would you? Especially if they loved that project, labored over it for hours, if not weeks, if not months, if not years? Would you tell them their efforts are wasted, that they might as well not have bothered until they could write something better? Probably not. I hope not. Because that makes you an asshole.

TLDR; Don't be an asshole to your writing, folks.

[send me a writer ask!]

[geminidarksidehasawoken]

Unbreak Me

Hey guys!

This chapter has been a long time coming

@fromthedeskofpaisleybleakmore @iplaydrake @drakesensworld @carabeth @sashatrr @blznbaby @dcbbw @hopefulmoonobject @candy702-blog-blog @ao719 @furiousherringoperatortoad @ladyangel70 @angi15h

Can you handle the truth?

After a few more Advil the pain behind my eyes dulled enough for me to drive. Leanna and Sabrina said their goodbyes with Sabrina asking her father if she could accompany us to the airport.

The drive was long and too quiet, with way too much time to think, Leanna sleeps beside me as we head to the Beaumont estate, and I couldn't wait to put this place behind us.

The house is still, quiet, there is no Hana at the piano, no Maxwell in the day room with music the place is just still. A sleepy Leanna walks to her room, mumbling something about chocolate later with lunch. And I smile as I watch her until she's finally in her bed, exhausted, a testament that they spent all night talking.

I take my time slowly going up the stairs and enter the room I share with Drake.

I'm not sure what to expect... But nothing could have prepared me for this.

My heart bleeds at the sight before me, Drake sits by the floor with tears streaming down his face. "Drake?" I call worried about him. Never seen him this distraught in all the years I have known him. His brown eyes haunted with pain and too much hurt finally meets mine and the rawness I saw there undid me

"She left, she chose you" he whispers and I'm not sure what he means. He rest his hands on his forehead covering his face. His pain resonates with me and I sit with him, pushing away the pain of his betrayal I pull him to me just like he did all those years ago, for me. Preparing to give him whatever he needed

"Drake, what do you need?" I ask, in that moment knowing that he was my best friend and I would do anything to stop his pain, to heal his hurt. "I need Hana, I need to know that you will be safe... I just need to know that you and Leanna will be okay, I need Hana to know I love her." He says and I know his heart has broken, shattered and its because of me. I've held onto him as a crutch too long, using the fact that I was legally married to keep attention away. My friend was hurting for my own selfish reasons.

"Where is Hana?" I ask, feeling his pain flowing through me, it was as though a tsunami was tearing my insides apart, too much to bear.

"She's gone to Shanghai, she's going to marry the man and merge her fathers company with his" he tells me gripping his hair as though doing so would stop or ease the pain, but nothing would, only her.

"Drake, " I say not sure how to put my thoughts into motion. "Let me fix this for you"

I hear myself say as I pull him from the floor and lead him to the bed, his eyes are wide at my statement, and usher him to the bed. He crawls in and I cover him, his head in my lap as I stroke his soft hair. "I wish you had told me, but more importantly I wish I hadn't been so weak" I mumble hating the sting in my eyes at his pain.

"White, this is my own doing, I knew you could handle the truth, but..."

"But?"

"I didn't want you to hurt seeing us, I knew it would cause you to think of him" he mumbles on a cough, "and I wanted to preserve Leanna childhood, I don't think she would understand why I left mommy to be with aunty, so I didn't because I didn't..."

I shush him and stroke his hair. While I thought about the last twelve years.

"I think it's time we told him the truth, so that I can set you free, Drake it was an honor to be your wife" I whisper.

"Are you sure, what happened to when she's older?" He asks looking up at me with wide eyes.

"Your happiness matters, and she's a big girl she will understand, its her truth and we will all be there to help her process, you, me and Hana, the three amigos"

"Wait, you would do this for me?" He asks doubtful."

"Drake, I love you, how can you not know that I would do anything for you"

He pulls me unto him in an awkward hug so my body is close to his, and I lay there with him, while silent tears fall from his eyes. "I can't lose her" he whispers turning into me and I just hold him until he cries himself to sleep.

Slowly I crawl out of bed so that I don't wake him, there in my mind was a plan hatching in my thoughts as I called Liam's phone.

"Hello?"

"I need to borrow your jet" I say before I lose my nerve.

"Oh okay" he answers clearly confused

There is no time to waste as I head to the airport.

I just prayed my plan would work as there is no way I could go on knowing based on my selfishness I hurt my best friends, because the truth was I should have known better, should have done better once I was able to find my footing.

**Liam***

Sabrina is tired and I walk her to her room and offer to read for her. "Sure, top drawer of my favorites" she answers. She is so much like her mother as who else would have a drawer for their favorite things? I open the draw and my fingers brush against a pearl bracelet I haven't seen in years. My heart feels sadness at the sight of it, remembering my declaration of love and the promises I had made for the future. Unable to put it down, I hold it

"Brina, where did you find this?" I ask curious knowing she was always holding onto lost things.

A tired smile plays on her lips as she see it. "I didn't find it, Leanna gave it to me, it was a gift to mother from her father" she says "did you give mommy fancy things just because you loved her?" She asks innocently but the questions doesn't register as my mind calculates. Fear paralysing me. " Father?" She calls her brow knitted with worry as I must be as white as a ghost.

"Sabrina, how old is Leanna?" I ask the question terrified of the answer yet needing to know anyway. Because I think I always knew, I just didn't want to accept it.

"She's eleven and a half, why?" At her answer, I grip the chest of drawers for support knowing I very well may fall if I'm not careful.

"Oh... I need to sign some papers, can I get a rain check on that story?" I asked knowing I can't concentrate now.

I feel as though I am swaying under the new realization, I have another child. A child who calls another daddy. I feel, what the fuck did I feel! Getting to the office I dial the Beaumont's

The phone is answered on the second ring by the butler on duty. "Get me Drake" I roar.

"I am afraid, he isn't taking calls at the moment" he says.

"I do not care! I Liam Ryes demand his presence now, a car will be waiting for him!" I bark and disconnect the phone. Anger vibrating in my blood, sadness haunting at the lost years. How could they do this to me?

I hear the door click close and I turn around to see Drake anger burning in his eyes. "What the fuck was so damn important you had to drag me here?" He roars glaring at me, his anger tangible in the office.

"How could you?" I demand, the words too new too raw to be spoken out loud.

"How could I what?" He challenges grabbing the whiskey bottle from my desk and taking a swing.

"Leanna, she is my daughter," I say. It wasn't question but a statement, it was a fact, I knew, I felt it in my veins.

I watch as Drake opens and closes his mouth nothing coming out, he stands defiant. "So?" I prompt and he glares at me.

"What do you want? Congratulations you finally figured it out?" He spits the words at me, only causing my anger to burn more.

"I trusted you with my life, yet you, you keep something of this magnitude from me" I say my hands twitching from the need to punch something, to do something.

"And?"

"How could you betray our friendship this way..." I can't imagine her pregnant and laying beside Drake, having him kiss and touch and play with her in utero. "I could never, would never betray you by dating one of your exes, yet as my friend you not only dated but married the mother of my child, Drake where the fuck is your loyalty?" I demand and he throws the glass into the wall, he looked as though he had just crossed the line.

"My loyalty?! It's been with fucking you! The woman I love is going to marry another man because my best friend had his head too far up his ass to put the pieces together!" He says pointing his finger at me.

"So this is my fault?" I can't believe what I am hearing. "You always wanted her, you took advantage of her while she was weak, you are despicable"

He laughs and its loud in the office "Li, I've never touched White, I never kissed her, I seen her naked yes, but I've never, never touched her inappropriately. So get off your high horse before I knock you off"

It's my turn to laugh, obviously he thought I was gullible "Knock me off I dare you"

"I hate you for what you did to her! You, you broke her! I watched her hurt, I listened to her cry for months when she thought we were sleeping. I saw her bleed for you, in order not to think of you she worked and went to school, saying maybe if she was good enough, maybe if she was worth it you would have fought for her. And not once did you reach out to find her, to talk things through... You're the despicable one. Did you know she still breaks down on your wedding day?"

I grab a bottle of whiskey from the shelf and turn it to my head loving the way it burnt going down.

"Stop! I don't want to hear it!" I say, it's too much his words outing the fire I had caused.

"No you dragged me here, to talk so let's talk... The day she found out she was pregnant it was after working a double shift and online classes, she came out and saw you on the television speaking about how delighted you were from your honeymoon"

"Drake, stop!" I begged but he didn't

"No! Where was your mercy for her? Remember my last phone call?"

"The one you smashed the phone in my ear"

"Yup! That was the call to tell you that you were gonna be a father, and you ruined it. That was the last time she ever cried openly. She thinks that this was her karma for sneaking around with you."

"Oh God!" I cry, knowing I was the cause of this pain.

"And to top it all fucking off, she went into labor the day you and that witch announced you guys expecting. Imagine Li, feeling that level of pain, you broke her! You did this, so don't stand their telling me how could I? How could I place my life on hold ensuring that your child was always out of harm's way, knowing her importance to the history here." He continues, but I can't take anymore.

"Liam, I didn't betray our friendship, but you, you are the one that let her get away." His words ring true and I continue to drink.

He's laughing, and its sad and I turn to see the tears mirroring in my eyes shining in his "I did the same thing to Hana, and now I have lost her."

We sit on the sofa, tired emotional and I'm speechless. The one thought in my mind was how did I fix this?

Riley

The flight was long, and I had more than enough time to put my speech into action. Mr Lee greets me warmly and tells me that Hana will always head to the horses in need of comfort. "You flew all this way to apologize?" He asks with a smile.

"She's my best friend, I'd move heaven and earth for her if I needed to."

Hana found me, on the back of the estate looking over the stable where horses were neighing, "Riley, "

I turn to look at her, and I see the pain weighing on her, the hurt she never intended to cause. "Why didn't you tell me?" I ask after we stand in silence for just too long. She swallows, tears glistening in her eyes

"Was Drake the fling?" I ask, unable to take the sting from my voice.

"Yes." She answered quietly. "I've wanted to tell you, but it was never the right time, and Drake is so terrified of losing Leanna, of what it would mean for her..."

The tears stung my eyes but I couldn't cry, "Leanna will always be Drakes daughter, I wouldn't dream of taking her away from him, " I reassure her.

"Do you love him, truly love him?" I ask her and she answers her breath hitching on a small sob.

"Too much" she replies wiping her tears.

"Hana, you saw me at my lowest, I deserved your respect, your honesty to tell me you had fallen in love, I would have moved heaven and earth to ensure that you guys got your happily ever after" I whispered. The ghost of a smile skips her lips and I want to pull her into a hug but my pride stops me, for some reason her betrayal seemed to hurt more and I couldn't understand why.

She clears her throat and straightens her spine. "I hate it that you found out about it that way, I have dreaded telling you for so long-"

"Why?" I interrupt, not understanding the need for her to keep this from me.

She closes her eyes and a single tear falls. "Riley, you'll never admit it, but Liam I think he may have unintentionally scarred you... for life" she whispers softly.

"This isn't about Liam-"

"Isn't it? You never gave yourself time to heal, the day you found out you were pregnant, you just came back to life and behaved like Liam never happened, but how can you, when she looks and acts so much like her father"

"Point Hana?"

"My point is this, after everything you are still very much in love with him"

My laugh is humourless, I didn't want to hear this, this wasn't about me. I open my mouth to say something but nothing comes it. ".I"

"No, I'm not done! For 12 years, you haven't been kissed, for 12 years every year you cry on his wedding day, then for the rest of the year you are devoid of any emotion. I know and that is why every year I ensure that I am there"

At her words I feel as the she's picking at the scabs the wounds that never really healed and the realisation that she is right floors me and I can't take it...

"Enough! That man hurt me, he shattered my heart like a piece of China and never bothered to pick up the pieces. So yes, it still hurts and I can't take the touch of someone else because... I'm... I'm scared... Scared, that I knew all along, that I was never good enough for him... That I was gullible, I compromised my morals for him, for a moment to bask in the sun with him... Hana, I... I'm still hurting, I'm still trying to get over him when he's found love, had a family, and I'm still stuck hurting that he never came for me."

Hana pulls me into a hug, like she did all those years ago after cutting me free. "Oh Riley, he doesn't deserve that kind of commitment, he doesn't deserve you" she tells me. But I can't believe them. This was my karma, because deep down I knew that had he asked me to stay as his mistress, I would have because I didn't know how to leave him, I wanted to be his happy place even with Madeline.

"Oh my gosh... I'm the Madeline in your story, trapping Drake in a loveless marriage" I say looking into her sad eyes.

"Hana, I love you... You deserve the happiness I couldn't have... We'll figure it out"

"Drake chose you, we don't have a chance" she says walking away from me.

"No. Drake didn't choose because he would always choose you" I whisper

"Hana, I got home to find Drake crying, Drake doesn't cry... This wasn't his choice but my own selfish one" I say as we walk through the blossoms.

"He needs you"

"Then why are you here and he isn't? I'm done settling... He needs to show me, that I am more to him that his constellation prize" she whispers her face set in a determined line.

"Hana, "

"No Riley, Drake, Drake may damn well be the love of my life but I intend to find happiness without him... For years, I've settled and he's had no problem letting me go, which means he can always let me go and I won't ever feel like that again"

There is anger and hurt swirling in her voice. "But this is my fault," I say.

She holds me by my shoulders and looks me into my eyes with tears streaming from hers. "No, this is not. Drake had a choice and he chose to let me go... He chooses to let me go..." her voice cracking with pain. "He let me go, again" she whispers, her breath hitched and the storm blew in, raging taking no prisoners the pain the hurt just too real, top raw and open and I hold her... Anchoring her, as we slipped to the floor under the weight of the pain.