#not tagging this with anything to involve it with the fray. don't want to drag them into this :') sorry sorry sorry sorry sorry!!!!

[wisteriasymphony]

Warning im gonna ramble: I’m happy someone is saying it out loud! This is always a trend when it comes to feminine men I think- I’m not a man, nor have ever been one myself, but when it comes to deconstructing male mental health and how we view femininity, I think making Adrien transfem/genderswapping them only works in a context where they are slowly regaining agency or are the ones regaining autonomy! More of marinette’s role in the narrative if that makes sense. And while it can be funny, I dislike it when it’s portrayed that Marinette will be the one to realize that they’re trans tbh. Like??? This guy is oblivious, but he’s also always stuck in his own thoughts? Let him be the one to analyze himself and conclude her own gender! This is true for any genderfluid Adrien tbh, even transmasc. I know ur a deathnoter, so I’m gonna draw on a death note fic here; “I think I was born blue” by anon (it’s fantastic give it a read if u want!). That fic has a lot of the repression that I think Adrien would struggle with esp as a trans person. Throw the sentimonster stuff in there and there’s no way in hell he’d confront it unless he had truly mentally reclaimed himself from the order to be his parent’s perfect boy. Same also applies to cis-swapped Adrien! When you make her a girl, you also have to appropriately grapple with the implications! (This is also ignored with Kagami, if to a much lesser degree.) If your female characters existence survives on the idea that she cannot live for herself and your story still claims to be centered on promoting feminism, that’s weird! I like knight princess yuri a lot, think rev girl utena, but the princess cannot just stand there and be a doll! The princess must also have thoughts! Also- how come Adrien gets this the most? I know it’s partially bcs he’s a “feminine pale boy “twink””, but even when you suggest characters like Nathaniel could be trans, it rlly just doesn’t pick up! I am a certified fudanshi and love yuri, but I need ur yuri to allow both female characters to participate in being people with a mind! TLDR: I love transdrien and I love yuri <3 (kiss ur girlfriends ppl), but analyze why one specific guy gets the fem beam! Analyze why a guy can’t show “feminine” traits and still be messy and masc and not get hit with the purity beam! Analyze why when a person is without agency why they are seen as a perfect partner! And if ur gonna write transfem Adrien, pls be more creative with names y’all! “Adrienne” is lame she would name herself either something simple (Marie idk) or smthing cool af ( Ysée). Ok thank you for the soapbox I will be back if that’s fine :3

You're welcome! I think some of the people I've talked to tend to say that Adrien would keep the name "Adrien" regardless of identity, which I think is cool as fuck. "Adriana" is also popular but I'm not a fan of it because it's so transparently just "Adrien + a" (as in common feminine modifier in English names). Like, come on guys... At least Adrienne is French.

I do think going the route of examining how repressed Adrien is and directing that towards transfem Adrien is an extremely cogent interpretation and also super valid. Like you said, it would just have to coincide with some self-reflection that the show only lets Adrien have in breadcrumbs.

I don't know, I'm aware that calling these things into question can be seen as trying to "debunk" theories or headcanons and I don't want to ruin anyone's fun, which is why I am so hesitant to discuss it. That's never been my intention. I just want people's ideas on them to be good and thought-out. That includes picking up on the implications and broader context.

God. Okay I'm finally over this I don't want to discuss it again. Every single time I feel like an awful person for bringing it up

[blackbloodteeth]

Ended up getting everyone else involved with the Sunday Snippetry and tagged again (thanks Cherry, haha), so here's another one that... ended up nearly 1k. Goddamnit.

Nothin' really major but there is a brief moment with a needle, so bit of a warning for that.

————

The ringing in his ears slowly drags his sorry-ass back into consciousness, but just barely as it feels like someone replaced all his blood with lead and also turned up the gravity on his bones. Using that special little trick he does whenever he doesn't want to get out of bed once the underwater sound of a siren going off sinks in, his fingers tense, untense, pound mercilessly against the cold, hard floor, and then drag his palms into his eye sockets to check to make sure he hasn't died yet – Only this time there's no dreading the workday when the ceiling of the maintenance room sluggishly blinks into view.

A breath haggardly escapes his hundred-ton chest while semi-blankly staring at the ominous shade of red lighting everything up, semi-panicked gawking at the alarm bouncing off the walls, and fully wincing into himself when his fingers feel for the lump on the back of his head- Shit, he's either concussed or got more brain damage than he already has, what in the h—

Soul's eyelids suddenly bug out as a loose wire in his synapses reconnects and the realization of just how bad the alarm system going all code-red is right now:

Space werewolves.

Trying his damndest to scramble back onto his feet – or at least sitting up against the nearest solid surface with his muscles currently cashing out – the frayed thoughts well-shaken in his head play back fragmented moments before he'd ended up on the floor, not turning up much useful in his current state while he frantically pats himself down, at least some semblance of relief that he has no identifiable wounds (that he can tell, anyway). Let's see… definitely in lockdown right now, but he can probably bypass the doors he needs to get to evacuation or a security checkpoint, unless the werewolf (werewolves? Shit, just one is bad enough, actually…) ends up blocking his path or is the kind of problem that ends up taking out critical functions.

His hand runs along the stubble across his chin before he glances towards the ceiling, at the ventilation, the door and its very noticeable claw marks, and then his one untied boot.

He is totally screwed.

Wracking his brain for literally anything that can help him survive this mess – he's just an engineer, goddamnit why did he have to end up employed on a ship filled with dumbasses that get infected – while wondering if he even has any available equipment near him that can be used as a makeshift weapon so he doesn't die like a background character (to what is probably the worst-case scenario outside of space mimics), Soul is not only creatively bankrupt, but completely pathetic as the sound of the ventilation grate bursting off its wall makes him audibly squeal.

In the heart-stopping moment that follows (hand over his mouth isn't going to do anything at this point but goddamnit-), his eyes feel ready to likewise explode out of his skull when the shape of an animal's muzzle and fur- oh yep, he's dead, he's dead, he's dead-

But hold that thought – The rest of its head squirms out into the open, long ears springing up and swiveling like- goggles? Staring straight at him. And then its hand comes out and adjusts the lenses, continuing to stare him down as he's now snapped out of his blind ape panic to start feeling self-conscious, until- Oh it's out of the vent now, that's too fast—

The goggled vent-dweller now stands up on two legs, its shape more recognizable as some kind of rabbit but with the body of a guy wearing an unidentified uniform, their walk getting straight to business approaching him- Hi, please don't murder him, he's probably not infected maybe-

"Ow!" Soul recoils away after the gun that got pulled on him turns out to have been some kind of injection needle, which he really, really hopes doesn't cause his agonizing death or turn him hetero. Unfortunately, doesn't seem he'll get an answer on either of those, let alone massage his damn arm- with the manhandling, dude?! "Hey, hold o-"

Any and all thoughts are immediately cut short as they stand him up straight by the underarm, only granting him room to swallow nervously. "Yessir."

A loud, agitated snort whips toward his face, which he quickly backpedals beneath. "M-Ma'am. Yes, Ma'am."

With a lesser huff, he's pulled along over to where the grate still sits ventless- er, vent sits grateless before something mechanical is forced into his hand (and almost unintentionally dropped if she didn't have a death grip on him and his meager life), the lagomorph deliberately pointing at what he's been thrust upon and then the vent- Oh, come on.

Also unfortunate for him, Soul doesn't have an opportunity to wimp out or limp out as he is quickly hoisted by the legs and lifted into the unforgiving opening that is the ventilation system to anyone who isn't a murderous rabbit woman. Death is surprisingly less certain, though, as his hand (which in an equally surprising twist of events actually benefited from being crunched into his shoulder like a fizzy can) soon lights up his face and shimmers against the metal walls boxing him in with a beam of tannish (oh, that's probably green) light that shoots through to the end of the tight corridor and bounds around the corner.

Ah. Navigation guide.

Well, better make the most of it and worm his lanky engineer body through this nightmare – 'Spose getting rescued and-or held hostage by an angry furry is infinitely more ideal than the inevitable mauling by horrific wolf-people, though.

[irishhorse-blog]

I was feeling bored and I remembered how there were hardcore vmin shipper blogs once so I went through the vmin tag, and boy was it fun! I haven't laughed so hard in a while.

I came across old posts and they were talking about how vmin being dry all those months and taehyung not posting anything for jimin just shows that he's serious about his relationship with jimin and is protecting their love. they talk about him protecting their "unscripted moments" (ahem👀) and how Jikook enlisting together "solidified" their beliefs that there's nothing romantic going on there because of the stress jm and jk would have to go through having to hide their relationship.

These are the same people who made speculations just like Taekookers about two years ago saying they wouldn't be surprised if Vmin enlisted together because they always choose each other. And now Jimin opting to enlist with someone who isn't taehyung "solifidies" their beliefs that he's not romantically involved with that person and makes them believe in vmin more.

They are really coping hard. And not them adopting taekookers' narrative about scripted moments and fanservice. It's the only way they can explain away what jimin and jungkook have been doing with each other so they can feel secure in their unrealistic ships. Jikook really got people jumping through mental loops and being shameless hypocrites. Jikook you will always be famous❤️.

I've always disliked Vminies more than taekookers because at least with taekookers they don't disguise just how delusional they are, but vminies have always acted so superior and had a "us vs them" mentality, always referring to Jikookers and taekookers as "those other shippers". They'd pride themselves on not being toxic and using things that Tae and jk actually said and did for each other to prove their ship, "unlike those other shippers". Which- fine, I'll give them that. But it doesn't seem vmin have been as close as before for a while now and they've started to grasp at straws, sounding exactly like the shippers they think they are better than. I've seen a "big" vmin account talk about how Tae and jm forgot people were present and lmost kissed at tae's fansign event💀. It's not obvious because they are very small in number, but vminies are exactly like taekookers. And both sides really have no shame with how they are currently dismissing Jikook's companion system enlistment when in the past both sides made speculations about their ships enlisting together and even saying they are sure they will enlist together IF bts don't get an exemption.

I wanna give myself a day off and dedicate that time to just going through years old posts from vminies (it's a pity most of them deactivated, like that motherfucker who used to call themselves @vmindrift and later changed their name to @romanticdrift. I wanna post screenshots on X and make them blow up so they'll get dragged. I know it's childish and petty but I want them to be brought down from their high horse since they always try to act so smart and think they are better than other shippers.

Hey, you do you. We all have to have hobbies. ;)

Vmin shippers have always tried to hold themselves as if they were "above the fray," but at the end of the day, a delusional ship is a delusional ship. TKKs might be sailing the Titanic, but Vmin shippers are just behind them on the Lusitania.

[namesmox]

Pillows

Ok so it has been well over a year since I've written anything or been involved with the Lucky Batch so please leave me some writing tips<3

"I swear to Maker, if you skip one more briefing, I will feed you to Loth Wolfs." hissed Raffle as he dragged Skip by his ear down the hallway of the Republic base the Lucksters were currently stationed at. "Kriffing hell Raffle! Let go of my ear! You're gonna- ow oW OW" "You wouldn't be getting dragged by your ear if you just went to a briefing, you di'kuit." Ignoring his vods protests, Raffle finally made it to the briefing room, where he shoved Skip into the room ahead of him, finding the amused faces of his brothers, who had seen Raffle storm off less than three minutes ago. Jackal and Foxy snorted when the very offended trooper slunk off to the corner to sulk, Kenhla quickly regaining the squad's attention. "Oh, a newcomer, welcome!" she joked and was met with a stuck-out tongue.

Once the batch had retreated to their barracks, still amused by the small scene from earlier, Skip asked, "If you're gonna drag me to meetings can it be by a different part of my body next time?" Jackal had snuck up behind Skip and pulled his little bun. "That work?". Raffle, who Pepper was scolding, smiled. "That's a great idea Jackal thank you." "All I do is shoot down D-1s. I don't get why I have to go to those meetings." Skip muttered, knowing full well why he was supposed to be there. "Maybe in case Jackal has another one of those 'emergency landings' again." piped Ryder on top of his perch on Goose. Now it was the pilot's turn to be offended. "Would you rather be a giant fireball in the sky?" "I'd rather stay on the same ship for more than a month." Jackal gasped, pretending to be overdramatic. "How dare you!". "I gotta agree with Ryder" Cypher cut in, who had his back turned, looking at his data pad. "Cypher turn around." The trooper did and was promptly met with a pillow to the face from Jackal. Foxy, who had been silently laughing at the situation, burst into laughter from the confused look on Cypher's face. Snapping out of his confusion, Cipher grabbed the pillow just thrown at him and the one on his bunk. Foxy bolted off the bunk he was sitting on to find cover. Jackal barely dodged a pillow by diving behind Goose, only for Ryder to tumble on top of him with the pillow. "Pillow fight!" yelled Skip as he ran up and whacked Raffle behind the head. The entire squad scattered throughout the barracks; before long, pillow stuffing flew through the air. Eventually, all the pillows were in less than optimal throwing condition, and someone (Thumbs swears it was Rane) pulled the mattress off a bunk and chucked it into the fray.

The following morning Kenhla, accompanied by her Padawan's Luna and Brisk, arrive at their squads' barracks only to find them utterly destroyed. The remains of pillows were scattered around the room in the form of wads of fuzz and scraps of cloth. Mattresses were pulled off the bunks and spread around the room, with the clones fast asleep. The trio stood still for a minute, wondering what must have happened for the space to be in this state. Finally, Luna was the one to break the silence. "Master, why the hell weren't we invited?".

Tags (lmk if you want to be added or removed):

@lynnpaper @foxlocke @maygalodon @oo-hazel-oo @letsunity @burnthashbrown27 @generaltano @cosmicghostie @monako-jinn-stories @longearedowlfromouterspace@lusiawonder @just-another-dreamerr

[heresathreebee]

Brackish And Briny Waters (three)

[Ralph Lamont X Female Reader]

Summary: Spend the weekend painting the house with your husband. Previous Masterlist Next

Tags: 17+ | 1.6k words | Painting a house together, aka domestic stuff, oral sex (female receiving), unprotected sex, pulling out, vague mention of rats.

AN: part 4 is gonna get angsty I just finished it

Anything involving greens was a heavy battle between you two, as Ralph seemed to have some kind of vendetta against them. The more blue you got, the less you fought and you eventually settled on a cool tone to use for the laundry room with a compromise to paint floral accents in a forest green tone along the edges of the back wall. You did find an exact replica of one of the original wallpapers in your second bedroom which you wanted to move to the living room. 

Colors selected and purchased, you went home starving and managed to scrape together some left overs with a side of rice to fuel you to start on the real work. You also bought brown paper to cover the solar room window holes until you can finish that room as its own project. 

Ralph rolls up his sleeves and puts on his bleach stained lounge pants to help. You lay down tarp and use up 3 rolls of tape to cover the kitchen and the dining room. Every window and door is wide open as you set your record player to play some 'whistle while you work' type of albums. And whistle he does that husband of yours, enjoying your company and shaking his hips dramatically to make you laugh. You two haven't had this much fun in so long it feels like. 

The summer citrus color you chose for the kitchen was really working for you. Ralph intended to put the wallpaper up in the other room to get 'double the work done' but still you find him working the same wall just to be close to you. You talk about missing that classic NYC pizza and dinner tomorrow and Ralph promises to ask his colleagues about any music shops in the area. 

You take a nap on the porch swing to get away from the paint fumes, an iced tea almost slipping from your hand. When dinner time comes, you cook while he details the removal of the old wallpaper from the dining room to work tomorrow. He's rambling about using a third coat on the living room paint and you don't think it's necessary but you know he'll agree with you come morning. 

"Come eat Ralph Vincent," you scold him for getting paint on the door frame but all is forgiven when he sweeps you into a hungry kiss. 

"I'd rather eat you right now." 

Ralph's flirtations are interrupted by his own ractious growling stomach and you laugh at him as you shove a plate into his hand. You eat together by the window in the living room. While it hasn't been painted yet, you have moved the furniture to the middle of the room and the fumes from the kitchen and dining room are still very strong. You hope it doesn't affect your sleep tonight (or hope it puts you down like a dose of melatonin). 

"Floyd's got a boat," Ralph tells you. "Says he takes it out on the water almost every day. Asked if I wanted to join him." 

"And are you?" You spin another forkful of angel hair spaghetti on your plate. 

Ralph slurps his like a child. "Am I what." 

"Are you going to join him on his boat?" You speak slowly and patronizingly. Ralph pinches your breast and almost makes you drop your plate. "No. I hate boats. I hate water. I don't want to be trapped for hours out there listening to him talk about paintings and philosophers, at least at work I can walk away." 

You chuckle. "I think Floyd sounds very interesting. What do you have against him?" 

"Nothing," he protests, "he talks too much. He's loquacious– that's what Justine calls him, and she's one to talk. If you must know, he's actually my favorite– he knows when to keep his nose out of my business." 

Dishes are made slightly more difficult with Ralph hanging off your shoulders. He peppers kisses up and down your neck, even finds a hickey from the morning that's started to fade and he remarks you. You dig your dripping fingers into his hair when he finds that spot on your neck and gives it some much needed attention. 

"Ralphie, baby, please," you whisper, "I could use your help with these." 

Dishes are done in record time and suddenly you're being whisked away to your bedroom (not that you were complaining). This room has the wallpaper that you had no intention to change aside from a fresh upgrade. Ralph takes your hand to spin you around and back you into your shared room all the way to the edge of the bed. Along the way he plants kisses from your hairline to your collarbone before he lets you fall atop the thick quilted bedspread. 

He gazes at you with a warm expression. The soft "my girl" he whisperes makes your heart swell. 

You expect him to pick up your legs and pull you by your knees to the outside of his hips (want him to even), but Ralph has other ideas it seems. It's not until his head is between your legs that you realize what he's up to (or rather down to). You gasp a lung full of air and grab him by the hair of his head. 

"Jesus," you sigh. 

Your husband's rumbling laughter causes your thighs to twitch. "Say my name, I'm the one doing all the work." 

"Yeah but you love– aha!" His beard brushes your inner thighs and leaves a delightful burning sensation in the deepest part of your soul. "Fuck…" 

You pull his hair harder and feel the soft locks stretch in your bloodless grasp. You can feel that immortal coil wind tighter and tighter inside you as Ralph devours you. You start chanting his name, the pitch of your voice beginning to crescendo the closer you get to that fire cracker ending. Ralph doubles his efforts, eager to have you fall apart on his tongue and fingers. 

He's more than making it up to you tonight. 

When you come, your body curls in on itself and your thighs lock around his head, effectively deafening him. You have no idea if he can hear the scream that rips from your body but you can't either as your eyes rolls back in ecstasy. 

You relax onto the bed and feel it dip with an additional weight to your side. You slide into Ralph's easy embrace, his dry hand coming up to hold you to him and just rest for a bit. 

"Fuck," you say huskily, "you're really good at that…" 

Ralph kisses you in answer, trying to deepen the connection but you have to twist away to catch your breath. Instead he plants lingering, sweet kisses on your neck, your cheek, your hair. His hand caresses your back in circles until you're nearly asleep from the motion. 

You flinch when you feel his nose brush against yours. "Baby… don't fall asleep." He sounds so sweet until his voice darkens and he says, "I'm not done with you yet." 

You lose track of time and all you can feel is Ralph Lamont. You're both covered in a sheen of sweat and his hips rock leisurely into yours. You don't know who grabbed who but your hands are tangled together and refuse to let go. Ralph's breath dusts over your neck, cool in contrast to the fire of his physical form pressed against you. You want to come again but you let him draw it out, let him love you tonight. 

"Ralph." You whisper in his ear, begging with no pressure to change pace. You're happy if he's happy and he is very content to keep thrusting into you to his peak and slow down, never stopping but always making you want more. Your man kisses you flush on the mouth and adjusts his position. His thrusts change. They grow from hypotonic and shallow to a little hard and more purposeful. You moan at the feeling, your legs locking around his hips to draw him deeper despite your exhaustion. 

Your orgasm washes over you nice and gentle, nothing like the force of the first time. You're conscious enough to lock your ankles around Ralph's hips, but it still doesn't prevent him from slipping his flushed and reddened cock out and finishing on your stomach as he always intended. You feel a strange tickle of disappointment as you come down from your high but push it to the back of your mind for later. 

Some way, somehow, Ralph still has enough strength to clean you both up and tuck you into bed. He curls around your body despite the near unbearable heat and falls fast asleep, his soft snores right behind your ear lulling you under the tide of sleep. 

DAY FOUR

"Morning." 

Your Saturday is awash of more painting and moving furniture with Ralph. He made coffee and eggs and brought it to you in bed, then dragged you down to look at the frayed wires on the clothes dryer machine. 

"Might be rodents," you muse. "I'll get some traps on Monday and find my soldering iron." 

"We'll get traps tonight," your husband countered, scratching his chin, "the sooner the better." 

You finish removing the old wallpaper in the living room and carefully put up the new one with little fuss. The kitchen still smells of paint but it's dry (it had better be, you left the windows open all night and it's freezing in here) so you put the kitchen utensils and appliances back and remove the protective tape and brown paper. Ralph is proud of the precision work done in the corners and edges, patting himself on the back and yours. 

"We did good babe," he said, "by this time next week, we'll have the whole house done!" 

You laugh at his optimism. There were still cobwebs to dust, cracks to spackle, floors to polish, windows to replace. This was the very reason he picked this place… 

To keep you busy. To keep your mind from wandering to those dark places that linger in your past. 

At least it was working.

Tagging people who might like to know: @werwulfy @hoodoo12 @escape-your-grape @go-commander-kim @fundamentally-lazy @mimiscappinisideblog do y'all wanna be here? If not lemme know please 😅 DM me