#Diffusion of Responsibility

[arcticdementor]

Sam Lowry: I only know you got the wrong man. Jack Lint: Information Transit got to wrong man. I got the right man. The 'wrong man' was delivered to me as the 'right man.' I accepted him on good faith as the 'right man.' Was I wrong? Sam Lowry: You killed Buttle? Jack Lint: Sam, there are very rigid parameters laid down to prevent such things happening. It wasn't my fault that Buttle's heart condition didn't appear on Tuttle's file… We're going to have to bring Mr. Tuttle in, aren't we? And interrogate him at the same voltage as Mr. Buttle - and juggle the books in electrical banking. Sam Lowry: What has Tuttle done? Jack Lint: We suspect him of, uh, free lance subversion. Then all I need to wrap up the case is the Layton woman. Sam Lowry: What has she done? Jack Lint: Oh, she witnessed the Tuttle, uhm, the Buttle arrest and essentially is going around making wild allegations, obviously trying to exploit the situation. She's working for someone and I don't think it's us.

—Brazil (1985)

[toughtink]

here's the thing about playing around with generative "ai" aka applied statistics based on stolen data: even if it's just for teehee haha laughs and funtime for you, even if you're not using it to replace real talent in a professional setting, it's a tacit endorsement of these shady as fuck, unethical training models and companies that will happily use your teehee haha generated memes to sell their tech to others who will then happily replace real creative people with technology that seeks to undermine them and then have to rehire those people at half the pay and with none of the credit to fix the absolute sludge they're generating in place of a proper job. and that's the optimistic outcome because the alternative is they say "good enough" about this meaningless, lowest-common-denominator sludge and send it out to consumers as is.

even if you're just the consumer in this system and not one of the creatives getting undercut, why in the world would you want to read or watch or interact with something that no one could even be bothered to make themselves? why in the world would you want to encourage that future?

[stuffedeggplants]

The resolution to the drama over the revocation of Oppenheimer's security clearance felt less like us hearing the final verdict--an inevitability we've known about for much of the movie--and more like the scenes where both Strauss and Oppenheimer are confronted by the reality that they had overestimated their own importance as individuals and actors in the world. And I don't think it's a coincidence that those scenes are also points where we briefly see beyond the Oppenheimer-centric or Strauss-centric points of view we've been watching things through.

Oppenheimer's moment is Truman's response to him telling Truman that he feels he has blood on his hands. All this time we've been following Oppenheimer as somebody tremendously important to the efforts at Los Alamos--the director of the lab itself--but it's during this scene that Truman most starkly communicates to Oppenheimer (and the audience) that there's an entire world of political/military decision-making in Washington and at the Department of War that Oppenheimer has nothing to do with and is even subordinate to, whether he's consciously realized that or not. Oppenheimer may have built the bomb, but he only did so at the behest of the government that made it possible. Then Truman decided to drop it, and the military made that happen. Oppenheimer is not the only protagonist here.

Strauss' moment is when surprise testimony ends with him failing to be confirmed to the seat of Secretary of Commerce--a first in the history of the United States government--and when he's confronted (for maybe the first time in his life) with the idea that Oppenheimer and Einstein's conversation years ago may not have been about him at all, but about "something more important." Despite years of maneuvering in Washington and successfully doing so to get Oppenheimer's security clearance revoked to snuff out the man's potential for influence on national security strategy, the culmination of years of Strauss' ambition is snatched away from him by a scientist (i.e. not a political rival) who chose to just show up and speak honestly about Strauss' character. For all the control and success that Strauss had in the political arena, Hill's damning testimony seems to come out of nowhere because Hill himself and his own thought process is so far outside of the realm that Strauss normally concerns himself with.

[daveinediting]

As always, once I start focusing my thoughts on a specific creative challenge, at some point something somewhere inside my brain starts connecting the dots and expanding the canvas.

I have no idea how that works, it just does. 🤔

Anyway, I've been at this for the last coupla weeks, considering how a particular stage production should manifest itself. How it should look, feel, and sound to an audience. And a few days ago I managed to set some objectives and strategies to the endeavor: the kind of experience being crafted... and some specific tools that could be used to craft the experience. An essential first step.

Over the weekend, I had the pleasure of attending the album release party for a local band. It was profoundly energized from start to finish, a show fit for even larger concert venues with its huge production value both in visuals and sound. I paid attention to my experience, how I responded to each song performance in the moment... and I paid attention to how the audience, packed wall to wall, front to back, responded. Which is basically me observing what excels, how performances land, the energy dynamic of the audience across the entire show, what the different experiences between the song performances are... and why.

The concert definitely gave me a heightened appreciation for production value and the impact it has on audience experience.

So then a coupla days go by and I'm hanging out with a friend who's a musician. They're sharing some music with me that's absolutely captured their reverence. So we listen to the songs and I realize some things.

The first is that some songs work better than others in concert. Because "in concert" is a wild sonic environment. It's not an environment made for appreciating subtleties and details. It's a crafted experience. And within that experience, certain things are possible and certain things are not.

I listened to one song that was simple in its production that would definitely land in a concert environment (which caused and still causes me to remember another such song that failed in that environment but I know why it failed). I listened to another, quite different song with spoken vocal loops and complex rhythms that would also fully land in a concert environment. And we did talk about the kinds of songs that wouldn't work as well and why. Among which are songs that are dense in language that doesn't get processed in real time when competing with complex music arrangements and just the energy of the room.

In a live environment, each word of a song can land and land hard... as opposed to other songs where the music might not be memorable and most of the words can sort of mentally slip by without leaving evidence of having been heard.

Or even written.

We kept listening because suddenly I was learning a lot. Having an insight-fest. As in traditionally what's crafted for record is performed for a live audience. The best recordings, of course. The most popular. Which makes sense in a prior world with older technology and different assumptions.

But how about this?

Certain creative endeavors are best experienced as recordings

Certain creative endeavors are best experienced live, and

Certain creative endeavors can exist at their best in both circumstances either as is or in some variation.

Meaning...

Release some efforts for recording only. Release some efforts for live experiences only. And release some efforts for both.

And then a fully formed experience came to me.

Why?

I'm guessing because of the critical mass developing during this moment of insight upon insight. So now I have an idea for the stage production I've been considering the last coupla weeks. Doesn't have to be the beginning of the show... but it can be.

The idea is based on one of the songs in the stage production that references the city of Paris. Which made me think of traveling. Which made me think of family vacations. Which made me think—because I'm of a certain age—of family vacation slide shows of old. Or family vacations as captured on 8mm film and shown in the living room with a projector.

And so on.

Later, I was talking to the composer of the stage show, pitching them my idea on how that piece of the show could work. And then they had an idea of how they thought what I described could be performed another way, each idea leaning into a different objective for the audience experience. Which is great. Because they're trying to craft an audience experience. And where the song lands in the overall performance and what the demands of that moment are...

Will determine the how of how the song should be presented.

Anyway... it was a helluva morning.

The kind I love most.

😁

[fingertipsmp3]

That last post just reminded me of something honestly mind-boggling that that friend did

[lionofstone]

i wish i’d watched top gun before i watched 911 because i think hearing “you can have my back any day” with the full context and understanding of what they were referencing would’ve completely altered my brain chemistry

[loonylupinblack3]

Jealous

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Reader

Warnings: swearing, suggestive content, slight violence

Summary: Logan see's a guy flirting with you and gets jealous

Word count: 1.3k

A/N: this was written while i was sleep deprived and had no idea where tf it was going so enjoy

Logan wasn’t a very jealous person. He never had reason to be; everyone knew you were his and he didn’t feel the need to scare anyone off. He knew you only had eyes for him, and he didn’t feel threatened by anyone else.

Usually.

Yet as he was watching you laughing with that guy at the bar, like he was somehow the most hilarious fucking person on this planet, all he wanted to do was walk over there and punch the guy square in the jaw.

He didn’t though, because he’d learnt from the past you were not a fan of his outbursts but fuck he wanted to. He could feel his claws itching to extend, to rip through his flesh and proceed to rip out that guy’s flesh. He knew you were dating Logan, he’d have to. He was a new mutant to the school sure but he’d been here for about a week. It was common knowledge you and Logan were in a serious relationship; he’d have to have heard about it by now.

So he was flirting with you knowing you were taken. He might as well have been flirting with death.

“Calm down there mate.”

Scott’s voice took Logan out of his stewing. He glanced at his friend, who had noticed his jealousy and was staring at him with an amused look on his face.

“Shut up,” was Logan’s gruff response, eyes going back to your smiling face, resisting the urge to walk over there and claim you as his right in front of the bastard.

He was also miffed with you, however. Surely you weren’t that dumb. Surely you could see the blatant attraction the man held for you. Yet you did nothing to diffuse the tension or let him know you weren’t interested.

“Dude, you’d think you had my laser eyes with the way you’re glaring at that guy,” Scott said, not helping Logan in the slightest. He wished he did have Scott’s lazer eyes so he could get rid of this irritating problem. 

Jean decided to walk up at that moment, casting Logan a weary glance. “I’m not sure how long he can take before he snaps.”

“I can hear you y’know,” Logan said through gritted teeth, though Jean wasn’t entirely wrong.

It was when the guy laid his hands on you, squeezing your arm the way Logan did, that he finally ‘snapped’ as Jean had called it.

His friends didn’t even try to stop him as he stalked towards you, knowing it’d be no use. Logan was ready to rip that man’s arm off his body if he kept touching what was Logan’s, and he wouldn’t even feel bad about it. He’d enjoy it. 

You turned towards him when he arrived, shining him a bright smile. God, you really were that naive when it came to other men. Logan knew he should be grateful, knew this obliviousness came from a place of love, where you simply didn’t see any other man that way so you didn’t pick up on the obvious cues, but right now it was doing nothing but irk him, seeing another man flirt with you and seeing you do nothing about it.

“Logan,” you greeted warmly, wrapping both your arms around one of his, and shaking the other man’s hand off in the process. A bolt of satisfaction struck him at the action, but it wasn’t enough to quench his overwhelming jealousy.

He tugged you closer, feeling a deep sense of contentment when you eagerly complied, and his irritation towards you lessened slightly. Noticing the man’s narrowed gaze as he watched the two of you however only increased it.

He raised an eyebrow at the man. “Something wrong?”

He tried and failed to mask his face, Logan seeing the twisted jealousy lurking beneath the surface. It was so similar to his own it caught Logan off guard for a second, and his own anger towards the man wavered.

That was until he opened his mouth. 

“Just the fact you can’t give your girlfriend more than five minutes of space before you’re crowding her again.”

Logan was going to kill this man.

You seemed to realise that too as your hold got a tad tighter, as if to hold him back. If you weren’t wrapped around his arm his claws would already be out, yet you knew exactly how to stop him, and had it so Logan couldn’t attack this son of a bitch.

“Excuse me?” was his response again, and the people around them quietened, as if sensing the danger.

He felt rather than saw Scott and Jean move closer, to protect Logan or the man he wasn’t sure.

The man scoffed, glancing at you who was certainly not smiling at him anymore. “You see her chatting to me and you have to barge in. It’s like you’re scared if she talks to another guy she’ll realise you’re not all that and fuck off while she has the chance.”

Yep, this man was dead. He couldn’t just run his mouth like that, in front of you, and expect Logan not to pummel him into the ground. He was going to make sure the man’s death was painful and slow, that he felt every cut and bone breaking.

Yet before he could do a single thing you stepped forward and gave the guy a glare so dirty Logan was relieved not to be on the receiving end of it.

“You speak about my relationship with Logan like you have any idea of what goes on between us again and I’ll fuck your shit up.”

The man looked so stunned he couldn’t even formulate a proper sentence. “But you- but he-”

“Did you ever think maybe I like having him around? That maybe spending time with my boyfriend is what I want? And even if I didn’t, did you really think I’d prefer you instead? A man who barely knows me yet tries to speak for me and insults the people I love?”

Logan was staring at you in awe. The way you kept going, stripping this man of his arrogance and self assuredness, ripping him to shreds verbally the way Logan would have physically, well, it turned him on. You matched each other so well he couldn’t help the smug smile tugging at his lips as he turned back to the now humiliated man.

“I think she said it all.”

He sent Logan one last glare, and he thought that would be the end of it when he caught the muttered “bitch,” the man sent your way.

Immediately Logan’s fist was in his face, slamming into his jaw, his nose, any piece of flesh he could find. He was barely aware of the gasps around him and you’re incessant tugging of his shirt as he grabbed the man by the neck and looked him in the eye.

“If you so much as look at her in any disrespectful way again, I’ll tear you to shreds.”

Then he dropped the man, watching him scramble upright and swear profusely at him- though not a single word or glance was directed at you- before getting the hell out of there.

Satisfied, he turned to find you glaring at him, hands on your hips with a stern look on your face.

Logan held out both his hands in defence. “What?”

“I had that handled.”

Logan grabbed you by the waist and tugged you close, and though you weren’t exactly happy with him you weren’t completely mad either, because the man had been a dick, and let him reel you in.

“I know Bub, I just couldn’t let him get away with calling you that.”

You sighed but pressed your head into his chest and Logan knew he was victorious. “Let’s just get out of here, yeah?”

He raised his eyebrows at you. “Yeah?”

You smirked, “I want to see how wild you get when you’re jealous.”

Logan grinned a purely animalistic smile as he brought you close, pressing his lips against your ear as he whispered roughly, “oh just you wait Sweetheart.”

[amiableness]

Dad!James Potter x Bsf!Reader ☼ 1796

"Y/n! You came!" Marlene exclaims, her eyes widening with surprise. Her usually confident demeanor melts into a mixture of shock and delight. Dorcas, sitting next to her, sends you a bright smile when she notices you. Lily practically flies off her barstool to give you a hug.

"You seem surprised." You giggle as you pull away from the hug you just shared with Lily. Noting the genuine astonishment on Marlene's face, you take in the lively atmosphere of the pub, which is buzzing with conversations and laughter, typical for a Friday night. You can't remember the last time you went out with the girls; it's been ages.

"Well, I mean, yeah, a little." Marlene admits, shifting slightly on her barstool. She tucks a stray lock of hair behind her ear and glances around, almost as if she’s trying to ensure that you’re really there.

"Why's that?" You ask, flagging the bartender down for a drink. The bartender, a tall guy with a friendly smile, nods at you in acknowledgment as he finishes serving another customer.

"You haven't been out with us in ages." She replies, a hint of concern creeping into her voice. Her eyes search yours, looking for an explanation.

"I've been busy, you know that." You say, smiling softly. The pub is so loud that Marlene's sigh goes unnoticed by you.

"With James." Marlene says blankly. Dorcas sends her a look of caution. Your eyebrows furrow, and you look over at her in confusion and surprise.

"Um, yeah, of course. Who else?" You ask, sending her an odd look. It's been clear since school days that you and James were close, so you aren't sure why she seems annoyed by this.

"Don’t you think you’re spending a lot of time with him?" Marlene asks, bringing her drink up to her lips and looking at you over the rim.

"With James? I’ve always spent a lot of time with James." You laugh, though you're starting to feel like Marlene is about to interrogate you. You love her, but she never holds back from stating her opinion, and sometimes that puts you on edge. You prefer to avoid confrontation at all costs. The lively chatter and clinking of glasses around you only add to your growing discomfort.

"It's true!" Lily chimes in, trying to diffuse the brewing tension. She broke up with James because everything for him always came back to you. Not that you knew that.

Marlene raises an eyebrow, clearly displeased with your answer. "I know, but lately it’s felt... more intense." She admits, her voice lowering as if she doesn't want everyone in the pub to overhear.

Dorcas, who has been silently observing, finally speaks up. "What Marlene means is that we miss you. It feels like we barely see you anymore, and when we do, it’s usually with James." You and Marlene remain silent, merely staring at each other blankly.

Your arms are crossed tightly over your chest, and your voice takes on a challenging edge. "Intense? What do you mean by that?" Dorcas and Lily exchange uneasy glances. Girls' night was not supposed to go this way.

Marlene raises an eyebrow, clearly incredulous. "He’s got Henry now."

A waiter sets your drink on a napkin in front of you, and you offer a quick, grateful smile. When you turn back to Marlene, your smile has vanished. "And how does that affect anything?" You ask.

“It changes everything,” Marlene says sharply. “You’re playing house with James. That isn’t your responsibility. If James wants that, he needs to find a girlfriend.”

You scoff, “I’m his best friend. Of course, it’s my job to help him out.”

“But you’re not just helping him,” Marlene counters. “You’re practically Henry’s mum.” You stand there, rigid. “Look, I want the best for you. Spending your twenties raising another woman’s child isn’t how you should be spending them.”

Your head jerks back as if struck, and you pull your lips tight. “She gave up her rights. Henry is James' son. If James doesn’t want me to help, he can tell me himself.” You sling your bag over your shoulder and down your drink. “And did you ever consider that this is how I want to spend my twenties? Being a part of their lives means everything to me. I’m sorry if you haven’t found someone you feel so strongly about.”

You're so upset that you don't even notice you've just confessed your feelings for James out loud for the first time.

By the time you reach James’ place, it's well past midnight. The streets are quiet, and the only sounds are the occasional distant car and the soft rustle of leaves in the breeze. Given that it's a Friday night, there's a strong possibility he’s already in bed, but you’re willing to take that risk. You know he might be asleep, but the thought of waiting until morning is unbearable.

It takes a second for him to open the door, but when he does he squints at you and glances back at the street in horror, “Did you walk-”

You interrupt, a bit impatiently, “You would tell me if you didn’t want me to help with Henry as much as I do, right?”

James studies you closely. Your hair is tousled by the breeze, and you’re huddled tightly into your jacket against the chill. The sight tugs at his heart, making him want to gather you close and warm you himself. He reaches out and gently pulls you inside, closing and locking the door behind you as you slip off your coat and shoes and place them in their rightful place.

When you look up, James stands there with his arms crossed, a concerned frown on his face. “Well?” you prompt. James sighs, clearly grappling with how to respond.

“Of course I would,” he says softly. “I’ve always appreciated your help. I’ve never once considered asking you not to help me.”

You hesitate, glancing at the three pairs of boots lined up by the door—James’s, yours, and Henry’s. “And you really don’t think I’m trying to be Henry’s mum?” you ask, your voice quiet and edged with tension. James follows your gaze to the boots, his expression neutral. He doesn’t reply immediately, simply looking back and forth between the boots and you.

“He calls you his mum.” James says finally, and your heart feels like it stops. The room seems to shrink around you as tears spring to your eyes without warning. You raise a hand to cover your mouth, afraid that a cry might slip out uncontrollably.

Your voice is barely a whisper, “He does?”

James nods, his gaze steady but gentle. “He has for a while now. But I asked him to keep it between us because I didn’t want to overwhelm you.” The soft light from the hallway lamp casts a warm glow on his face, and the quiet of the room feels heavy with the weight of his words. If you weren’t so overwhelmed with emotion, you might have noticed that he took your advice to turn off the overhead lights and use a lamp instead.

A tear slowly traces its way down your cheek, and James catches sight of it instantly. His expression softens with concern. “I’m sorry if that makes you uncomfortable.” You say gently.

There’s a pause between you both. You struggle to keep yourself composed, while James fights the urge to reach out to you. Neither of you is succeeding.

“Y/n,” James says, stepping closer with a hesitant expression. “You can tell me to forget it if this sounds strange, but—” He trails off, his gaze dropping to the floor as he nervously fiddles with his glasses. The soft hum of the heater fills the silence. “I don’t think you’re trying to be Henry’s mum. I think you already are.”

Your gaze snaps up to him, tears streaming freely down your face and leaving damp trails on your cheeks. “James, you can’t just say that. When you get a girlfriend and it gets serious—”

“Darling,” he interrupts gently, his hand coming to rest reassuringly on your arm. “Why do you think I haven’t gotten myself a girlfriend after all these years? Henry’s about to turn four.”

You sniffle, “I—I don’t know. I just thought you were waiting for the right person, someone who would be a good fit for both you and Henry.”

“I have been.” He says, stepping closer until you’re nearly chest to chest. His gaze locks with yours, and you can feel the warmth of his breath on your skin. The soft light from the lamp casts a gentle glow on his face, accentuating the earnestness and vulnerability in his eyes. Your stomach tightens at the sight of the tenderness in his gaze—eyes soft and honeyed.

“Jamie—” you whisper, but your voice trails off as you feel his hand settle on your hip, pulling you gently against him. Your heart pounds so fiercely that you’re sure he can feel it if he presses any closer. The space between you seems to shrink, the air thick with unspoken feelings.

“What, darling?” He murmurs, his voice barely more than a breath as he leans in. His lips, pink and slightly parted, are just inches from yours. The warm, intimate proximity makes you ache to close the gap and kiss him, yet a flicker of doubt makes you hesitate, wondering if you’re misreading the depth of the moment.

You barely have time to process your doubts before James leans in and presses his lips against yours. The kiss starts off tentatively, allowing you the space to pull away if you need to. But you rise onto your toes and slip your right hand into his soft curls, guiding him closer with a gentle pull. The deep, passionate groan he releases sends a rush of warmth through you, making your head spin.

His fingers find yours, and he intertwines them with a reassuring grip. He slowly walks you backward until your back meets the cool surface of the door.  The texture of the wood presses against your shoulders and the small of your back. Your bodies are pressed closely together, and your hands remain intertwined, resting next to your head on the door.

The kiss grows more intense with each moment. Your lips part, and James licks into your mouth, his tongue moving with an urgency that’s both surprising and exhilarating. His left hand comes up to hold your jaw, his thumb pressing into your cheek, holding you steady as he continues to kiss you. The soft whimpers and moans that slip past your lips are pathetic.

When he finally rests his forehead against yours, sending you a breathless, knowing smile, it becomes clear that you’re completely done for.

please reblog or comment with your thoughts! they are very appreciated and keep me motivated to keep writing! 🤍

[pillowfort-social]

Generative AI Policy (February 9, 2024)

As of February 9, 2024, we are updating our Terms of Service to prohibit the following content:

Images created through the use of generative AI programs such as Stable Diffusion, Midjourney, and Dall-E.

This post explains what that means for you. We know it’s impossible to remove all images created by Generative AI on Pillowfort. The goal of this new policy, however, is to send a clear message that we are against the normalization of commercializing and distributing images created by Generative AI. Pillowfort stands in full support of all creatives who make Pillowfort their home. Disclaimer: The following policy was shaped in collaboration with Pillowfort Staff and international university researchers. We are aware that Artificial Intelligence is a rapidly evolving environment. This policy may require revisions in the future to adapt to the changing landscape of Generative AI. 

-

Why is Generative AI Banned on Pillowfort?

Our Terms of Service already prohibits copyright violations, which includes reposting other people’s artwork to Pillowfort without the artist’s permission; and because of how Generative AI draws on a database of images and text that were taken without consent from artists or writers, all Generative AI content can be considered in violation of this rule. We also had an overwhelming response from our user base urging us to take action on prohibiting Generative AI on our platform.  

-

How does Pillowfort define Generative AI?

As of February 9, 2024 we define Generative AI as online tools for producing material based on large data collection that is often gathered without consent or notification from the original creators.

Generative AI tools do not require skill on behalf of the user and effectively replace them in the creative process (ie - little direction or decision making taken directly from the user). Tools that assist creativity don't replace the user. This means the user can still improve their skills and refine over time. 

For example: If you ask a Generative AI tool to add a lighthouse to an image, the image of a lighthouse appears in a completed state. Whereas if you used an assistive drawing tool to add a lighthouse to an image, the user decides the tools used to contribute to the creation process and how to apply them. 

Examples of Tools Not Allowed on Pillowfort: Adobe Firefly* Dall-E GPT-4 Jasper Chat Lensa Midjourney Stable Diffusion Synthesia

Example of Tools Still Allowed on Pillowfort: 

AI Assistant Tools (ie: Google Translate, Grammarly) VTuber Tools (ie: Live3D, Restream, VRChat) Digital Audio Editors (ie: Audacity, Garage Band) Poser & Reference Tools (ie: Poser, Blender) Graphic & Image Editors (ie: Canva, Adobe Photoshop*, Procreate, Medibang, automatic filters from phone cameras)

*While Adobe software such as Adobe Photoshop is not considered Generative AI, Adobe Firefly is fully integrated in various Adobe software and falls under our definition of Generative AI. The use of Adobe Photoshop is allowed on Pillowfort. The creation of an image in Adobe Photoshop using Adobe Firefly would be prohibited on Pillowfort. 

-

Can I use ethical generators? 

Due to the evolving nature of Generative AI, ethical generators are not an exception.

-

Can I still talk about AI? 

Yes! Posts, Comments, and User Communities discussing AI are still allowed on Pillowfort.

-

Can I link to or embed websites, articles, or social media posts containing Generative AI? 

Yes. We do ask that you properly tag your post as “AI” and “Artificial Intelligence.”

-

Can I advertise the sale of digital or virtual goods containing Generative AI?

No. Offsite Advertising of the sale of goods (digital and physical) containing Generative AI on Pillowfort is prohibited.

-

How can I tell if a software I use contains Generative AI?

A general rule of thumb as a first step is you can try testing the software by turning off internet access and seeing if the tool still works. If the software says it needs to be online there’s a chance it’s using Generative AI and needs to be explored further. 

You are also always welcome to contact us at moderation@pillowfort.social if you’re still unsure.

-

How will this policy be enforced/detected?

Our Team has decided we are NOT using AI-based automated detection tools due to how often they provide false positives and other issues. We are applying a suite of methods sourced from international universities responding to moderating material potentially sourced from Generative AI instead.

-

How do I report content containing Generative AI Material?

If you are concerned about post(s) featuring Generative AI material, please flag the post for our Site Moderation Team to conduct a thorough investigation. As a reminder, Pillowfort’s existing policy regarding callout posts applies here and harassment / brigading / etc will not be tolerated. 

Any questions or clarifications regarding our Generative AI Policy can be sent to moderation@pillowfort.social.

[kaiijo]

ok. bllk and jealousy rate. how jealous can they get over their gf and what do they do to cope lmao

HOW JEALOUS IS HE? — [BLUE LOCK]

characters: isagi yoichi, bachira meguru, itoshi rin, itoshi sae, kunigami rensuke, nagi seishiro, mikage reo, oliver aiku content: gn! reader (request says gf but reader is gender neutral) notes: some of these are lowkey toxic, minor spoilers for kunigami’s character arc, nagi is taller than reader

most jealous: bachira, rin, reo 

bachira meguru ✶

bachira has many, many insecurities. growing up isolated and without many friends, he is more possessive of those he’s close to, which obviously includes you. he just doesn’t want to lose you, which manifests itself in jealousy over anyone he perceives as a threat to your relationship

bachira gets really clingy when he’s jealous. he thinks that inserting himself into the situation, sometimes literally wedging himself between you and the other person. he usually chooses to drape himself over you, nuzzling into your neck and speaking low enough that only you hear, trying his best to divert your attention. third-wheeling is pretty uncomfortable for the other person, especially with the smiling sneer bachira’s shooting at them, so they make a quick irish exit 

itoshi rin ✶

an egoist to his very core, rin can get very jealous. while he’s very sure of himself in nearly every other part of his life, he knows that he is not an ideal partner a lot of the time, though he’ll never admit it. he’s not the most expressive or the most patient, and he’s sure that there are better partners for you out there. 

when rin’s jealous, it’s a silent but deadly thing. like when he’s locked in on the ball in a game, his focus you and his ‘competitor’ is unwavering. he stalks over to stand behind you, his chest bumping right up against your back, and he snarls, “what the hell do you want, you mediocrity?” usually the other person backs off after seeing rin’s bone-chilling glare but if they’re bold enough to answer back, rin bares his teeth and is poised to strike. it’s probably best if you diffuse the situation quickly before it gets uglier  

mikage reo ✶

we already know how jealous reo was over nagi so it’s safe to say that he’s definitely very jealous. having been bored with the world and other people for so long, he’s thrilled when you two get together. it makes his very protective of you and he wants to be one of the most, if not the most, special person in your life. 

reo can go a couple of ways when he feels jealous over someone else but it think his primary response is to tear down the person methodically. he tilts his head a little, looks the person up and down, and notes everything about their appearance — hair, skin, clothes (including brand and cost) and criticizes every little thing. it’s a strategic move in his opinion, using observational skills and knowledge he had given his upbringing to pick apart the other person. he also might make some underhanded comment that includes that he has a black card 

less jealous: isagi, kunigami, sae 

isagi yoichi ✶

he definitely gets jealous from time to time but he doesn’t feel the need to act on it a lot. he’s pretty mature and for the most part level-headed (plus his ability to piece together future events helps him keep his cool a lot). this doesn’t mean that he isn’t jealous 

when isagi is jealous, he’s sulky. he won’t take immediate action and watch from afar, arms crossed and a little pouty. he tries to look as dejected and as ‘wet-cat pathetic’ as possible to make you feel bad and come over to comfort him. when you inevitably do, looping your arm through his and kissing his cheek, he can’t help but smirk at the other person like a cat who go the cream 

kunigami rensuke ✶

i debated where to put kunigami since there are ‘two sides’ to him — pre- and post-wildcard. pre-wild card kunigami is definitely a lot less bothered; he trusts you 100% and is 100% confident and secure in your relationship and himself. post-wild card kunigami is less chill and more forceful. he’s not a hero anymore but even as he plays a more ‘villainous’ role in soccer, he won’t cross that line in your relationship. he’s still very secure in you and himself, but he’s more protective of your relationship. definitely a ‘i trust you/us but it’s other people i’m worried about’ kind of guy

when pre-wild card kunigami got jealous, he won’t act in the moment and will talk to you about it afterwards, in a private setting. open lines of communication were important to him and working out problems like this. post-wildcard kunigami is all stormy looks and intimidation. like rin, he also stands behind you but in less actively aggressive way and more just to be threatening. it’s 95% effective and the 5% of times it doesn’t work, kunigami is not above muscling the other person away 

itoshi sae ✶

i thought about putting sae in the ‘most jealous’ section but i just think that he is someone whose jealousy simmer just beneath his apathetic surface. he sees most other people as beneath him and believes that they are not worthy of speaking to you, let alone hitting on you, but because he’s sees them as so beneath him, he can’t be bothered half the time to do anything since they’re simply not worth it. he gets the most jealous when it’s people who he can potentially view as equals, like other professional athletes 

when he’s jealous, sae literally just pretends they don’t exist, only talking to you. if the other person tries to interject, he sends them a sideways glare — the only acknowledgment of their existence — and then turns away to continue whatever conversation, suggesting that you both get away from the other person as quickly as possible. if ignoring the person doesn’t work, sae doesn’t shy away from spewing vitriol at the other person

least jealous: nagi, oliver, michael

nagi seishiro ✶

simply put, being jealous is a hassle to nagi. it makes him too hot and too annoyed for him to want to feel it so he suppresses the feeling a lot. nagi’s height is already intimidating enough for most people so they don’t approach you when they see you two together but that isn’t a deterrent to everyone

when nagi gets jealous, he does one of two things: just gives a thousand-yard stare that freaks people out or he gets whiny and clingy. his stare is eerie and silent, and the lightness of his eyes doesn’t help it. he towers over you like some cryptid companion. when he gets whiny and clingy, nagi tugs at your sleeve and asks drily, “can we go yet? why are you still talking to them?”

oliver aiku ✶

sigh… oliver is undoubtedly someone who thinks and knows he’s the shit. with so many women and men alike fawning over everything about him, his ego is through the roof. he has very little worry about you leaving him for someone else. honestly, he finds it amusing most of the time when someone attempt to draw you away from him, and let’s it play out a lot for his own entertainment. of course, he’ll intervene if it’s making you uncomfortable but he also believes you can handle yourself 

when oliver gets jealous, he acts as casual as possible. he’s friendly towards the other person and but it’s not hard to uncover that it’s all fake, whether it’s from the glint in his eye or the way his smile is stiff and forced. common tells when he gets jealous is that he pokes his tongue against the inside of his cheek or he clenches his teeth and inhales softly but sharply.  he employs the good old tactic of calling the other person the wrong name and making all kind of underhanded comments that slowly chip at their nerves. (“haruya? haruki? oh! you’re haruto! right, right, you know, they’ve never mentioned you before! crazy, huh?”) 

michael kaiser ✶

kaiser in german literally means ‘emperor,’ and it’s no secret that kaiser views himself as one. similar to sae, he see himself as so above others that he’s not even bothered by other people hitting on you. it displeases him greatly, sure, but these cockroaches will never be able to steal you from him so why should an emperor deal with the plebians? the only time that ever happens is when a peasant is particularly forceful and then, kaiser intervenes

when he gets jealous, kaiser puts on a show. if there’s one thing about him, he’s a bit of a drama queen. he will absolutely posture and puff out his chest at the offending person, looking down his nose arrogantly and smirking. he makes a big display of wrapping himself around you, gripping firmly at your hips and saying, “liebling, you’re very charitable to entertain this insect, but it’s time to end this ruse.”

[sincerelyrki]

you don’t look like an angel

being heavens highest angel, lee heeseung was completely and utterly fucked. he’d made the one mistake that could cost him both his wings and his immortality- he had summoned a demon into the most sacred paradise on earth. it was only his luck that it wasn’t just a regular impure demon; no, it was worse. he had summoned a succubus.

paring : virgin!angel!heeseung x succubus!fem!reader

warnings + genre : smut. slightly dubcon (heeseung didn’t know what was happening). corruption. religious guilt. begging. unsafe sex. marking. oral (m). riding. slight degradation. begging. profanity. blood. cumming untouched. demons hiss and purr.

wc : 5.9

a/n : idk what this is but i had to read the entire thing out loud to make sure it sounded right and i think it’s safe to say that this might be one of my favourite works i’ve ever written so far? something about heeseung and corruption…anyways, as always i’d love to hear everyone’s thoughts 🤞

written perm taglist : @vousty @ilololoveyou @moon0fthenight

Heeseung was just finishing his final prayer when it happened, his hands still pressed together at the base of his forehead. Earlier in the day he’d heard about a new prayer, one that was said to be extremely popular with the rising youth. 

It was spoken in another language, one far too complex for Heeseung to understand. But the words were simple, easy to pronounce and fairly similar to a chant he’d heard his mother pray with. 

Due to its simplicity, it allowed more room for error. One small mistake could change the outcome of any prayer spoken through an angel's lips. Their loving prayers were far more powerful than any other beings, their direct connection with the lord strengthening their pleas. 

With the ability to heal an unknown disease with a singular sentence, an angel's voice was the most sought-after remedy.

But as the old saying says, with great power comes great responsibility. 

With a voice as strong as theirs it was bound to be heard. Whether it was heard from the lord or other angels, someone was always listening. 

What Heeseung failed to realize was that the language of his new prayer was the language of the unknown. No living human understood the language, their own interpretations being nowhere near the direct translation.

But like all other sayings, their false words made their way through the clouds. The wind was listening, the echoes of their translations meeting the ears of a few young angels.

They weren’t of the right age to learn about the wind's voice yet, so they did what they thought they had to. They spread the word, the listening angels hearing their prayers. 

It was a cruel game of telephone, the words jumbling together until it was forced to make its own poem. Heeseung just happened to be at the receiving end of one of one.

For a room that was well above the atmosphere, it was oddly humid. The freshwater flowers that thrived in his usual cold room were now completely withered. Their once vibrant petals were now dyed a terrific red, the hue straining their pure white appearance.

Heeseung watched with the utmost confusion as they contorted within seconds, the vapour diffusing into a puddle of red acid that gathered alongside the vase, identical red streams dripping from each individual stamen.

His hand moved on its own, his fingers a hairstring away from the mysterious liquid before a loud voice echoed from the other side of the room. Heeseung’s main light went out, his bedside lamp coming to life on its own. 

“You shouldn’t touch that.” Heeseung jumped in place, his wings springing free from their confinement in his attempt to defend himself. 

He was light on his feet when he spun around, unfortunately for him- he saw nothing but darkness on the other side of his room. Your figure blending right into the background. 

He grew panicked when his hand was met with air when he reached back for his bow, the situation drawing down fast on him. Not only was he stuck in a room with a mysterious creature but he was left defenseless in said room with the mysterious creature.

What were the chances that you were another angel?

“Are you looking for this?” The angel's jaw fell in shock when his missing bow dropped by his feet, the riser snapped clean in half. His heart sank at the sight, pain creeping across his chest. 

His bow was crafted with the finest materials, the limbs harvested from their most sacred willow tree’s aged bark- embezzled with an intricate carving for each of his greatest accomplishments. 

In an instant Heeseung grew nervous, he knew he wasn’t in the presence of an angel. Each angel was sworn by an oath, and the roots of the tree webbed across their every bone, making it impossible for them to harm such a sacred weapon. 

His jaw remained open when you finally revealed yourself, you were the envisionment of sin.

Yep, you definitely aren’t an angel.

Your breasts were held up with the tiniest fabric he’d ever seen, nothing but two small triangles hanging from your shoulders that were attached with a thin knot. The article did nothing to hide your body, everything except for your nipples out for him to see. 

His cheeks grew inflamed by an invisible force pulling his eyes down to follow the curvature of your exposed waist.  A slightly larger triangle sat hugging your hips, the right side of your hips was exposed, the fabric cascading in a diagonal slit towards your left thigh. It took him several seconds after staring at your legs to realize what he was doing. He slapped his right hand over his eyes, lips opening to recite his prayers.

Heeseung felt ashamed of his reaction, as angels weren’t supposed to observe nudity in a sexual manner. He’d never viewed another person's body in the way he did yours and he’d spent many hours aiding the other angels bathe during their sicknesses- this was a whole new territory that he’d never dared to think about. 

You, of course, noticing his ashamed prayers couldn’t help but take offence. Why would he beg for forgiveness after he called out to you? It wasn’t god who he should be worshiping, it should be you. 

“You can’t help your reaction, my body is supposed to make you feel like that.” You humoured him anyways knowing that none of this ashamed shit that he was feeling would matter in an hour. 

Heeseung vigorously shook his head in denial, your words not helping his inner turmoil at all. You were wrong, you had to be. He was supposed to be an angel and angels don’t act upon sin. 

He’d spent his entire childhood learning about each sin, spending hours of his life drowning in the promise of devotion. 

He had been loyal since the day he was born, temptations weren’t even a thought in his head anymore. He was the living epitome of purity. How could he honour his mother if he gave into the word of the demon? 

Heeseung kept his eyes on you whilst he completed his prayers, his final words building a sanctuary around his untainted blood. The blood of a virgin. 

You started your advance with small steps towards him, your bare feet making no sound as you neared him. The closer you got the more potent the blood’s smell became, iron heavy in the air as your body heat drew closer. 

You stopped halfway across the room, your mouth was practically watering by the time you were able to make out the small pool of red, the pretty flowers only making it seem more appetizing. 

“Do angels ever crave blood the way we do?” You knew they didn’t, it was against their entire existence but some sick side of you wanted nothing more than to see the angel’s reaction to your question.

Pretty boys were your weakness and Heeseung was so fucking gorgeous. You grew jealous of your future self, loathing that she got to touch him- to fuck him the way you’re imagining it right now. You couldn’t wait to watch him shake beneath you, begging to whoever was listening for you to stop. 

Heeseung’s mouth dropped in horror, you craved blood? He looked at you like you were insane for your completely valid needs like he couldn’t fathom craving something so inhumane. He wasn’t completely sure if you meant human or animal blood but after seeing the way you looked at him he’d say had a pretty lucky guess. 

“Because I've never craved it more.” Chills went down Heeseung’s spine while he tried reading through your words, were you a vampire who smelled him from Earth? He knew angels smelt the best to them. 

His questions answered themselves through the sudden wave of iron clashing with his sensitive nose. He looked over his shoulder towards the flowers that were now completely drenched. 

“Whose blood is this?” He was barely finding his voice before he forcefully stuttered his final question, his throat burning with a newfound emotion.

Your head cocked to the side while your lips pulled up into a side smirk, your pink tongue quickly coming out to wet them. It was almost an endearing sight, almost. 

Heeseung stumbled back with a small shriek when you suddenly appeared right in front of him, your chest pressing flesh against his for a few seconds too long. 

He watched the way you kept your eyes on him whilst reaching one of your fingers out towards the pool of blood, a gasp crawling up his throat when you brought your fingers to your lips.

You made a show of sticking your tongue out, trailing your finger from the bottom up before you stuck in between your lips. 

You let out a small hum of approval, the sweet taste of his blood tasting better than any you’ve tried before. You finally understood what your friends meant when they swore that a virgin’s blood tasted the best, however, they never got the pleasure of tasting it from an angel. 

“It’s your blood, who else’s would it be?” You watched in amusement as the angel’s face blanched, his wings twitching behind his back as he attempted to curl into himself. ‘Cute’, you hummed to yourself as you mentally took a shot at this moment. If there was one rule about angles that every species seemed to agree on was that angels have always been beautiful. But there was something about this specific one that felt so different. It could’ve been the fact that he was untouched, or it could’ve been the way his fear shone so obviously in his eyes that turned you on so fucking much. 

Typically angels smelled of a plethora of flowers, gardens growing from their untainted hands. Usually, the scent bothered you, your body being much more used to the fruit-like and sensual scents that the demons claimed as their own. 

Many angels assumed that demons would smell of burnt flesh and plied wood and sometimes they definitely weren’t wrong. But most smelled like you- after all, you needed to smell as good as you looked. No one wants to fuck someone who smells bad, even demons had class. 

“What are you?” Heeseung questioned, his wings still pulled behind his back. Even though he knew you weren’t an angel, he still had his doubts. Demon wasn't even a word in his vocabulary, it was one of the few words that were forbidden to be spoken in heaven. Sure, you had wings and the same flawless skin he sported but your wings… they couldn’t be any more different. 

Your wings were almost double his size and they appeared much more feathered, looking as if they’d been plucked from the most gracious birds and dipped into the darkest ink, black and red sunsets carving up each intricate row of feathers. 

He just never expected you to become his beautiful devastation. 

You ignored his question and continued observing the way his body reacted to you. His smell quickly became addictive, your adulterated temperament wearing thin the longer he lingered in your senses. 

“What do you want me to be?” You purred out in your most seductive tone. While waiting for his response you took it upon yourself to move closer to him, your steps much less hesitant than earlier. 

There was no denying that the man before you was truly captivating but there was something else that caught your attention much faster. His pearlescent wings were practically glowing in the dark, a layer of pale blue surrounding the smoothed edges. Which, after thinking about it for a few seconds didn’t make very much sense to you since the angels tended to constantly stay in the light. 

“An angel?” You made a sound of disgust at his disrespectful words, you? An angel? Honestly, you’d rather be a troll which says a lot considering their reputation. 

“I’ll be your angel if it helps?” Heeseung tried hiding his very evident fluster by attempting to turn away from your vision but when he tried to move, he couldn’t. 

You giggled out loud watching the panic spread throughout his face, your mind fogging with all the ways you could use him whilst he’s in this state. There was something so satisfying about having complete control over another person's body, whether it’s through your mind or actions. 

“Aw, what happened?” You cooed, acting dumb has always been one of your strong forts. It came in useful at times like this, the ability to feign innocence with a singular pout. 

Heeseung, unfortunately for him, fell right into your trap. He was naive enough to believe that you had nothing to do with his state, which is way beyond you. It would’ve been obvious to anyone else that you were controlling him but perhaps angels thought differently.

“I can’t move.” Heeseung nearly screamed when your hand pressed on the spot where his heart lay beneath his chest, his heart thundering louder than before. It was only racing because he was scared, there’s no way your touch was affecting him. Angels don't feel lust. 

Lust. The definition is described as a “disordered desire for inordinate enjoyment of pleasure.” Heeseung lived by the word of the lord. He’d spent his entire life bending backwards to live by the commandments that were shoved down his throat, his lungs choking against the words bubbling to come out. 

It wasn’t hard to drown into the mold that’s been made to best fit him but it was nearly impossible to escape. He thought he was fine in this confined space, lonely sure, but free of sin. He was accepted by the lord and that’s all that he’s ever wanted.

But he was made for sin because he was made for you. 

“Then I guess I'll have to take care of you. I can’t leave you here all alone, not when you’re this vulnerable.” Poison disguised as worry spilled from your lips and slipped through Heeseung’s mind. 

Your words drew more than reassurance through Heeseung, it drew guilt. Guilt for doubting your intentions, for believing that you could’ve been here to harm him. He felt so wronged for you, you must’ve been so angry at him. But still, you offered your help. Maybe he’d slip you into his nightly prayers, thanking the lord for gracing him with your presence. 

All the thoughts frozen when your hand touched the edge of his wing, his body electrified with a foreign feeling. No one else has ever touched his wings before, it was an action that was far too intimate to allow anyone else to try. 

He knew his wings were sensitive but he never knew they were this bad. His wing twitched under your touch, pushing itself closer to your hand. 

You watched in amazement as his wings awoke from their state, your touch bringing them to life. You never controlled his wings, the action far too cruel for even a demon to pull. 

You tested the touch again, pressing your palm flat against the parts that were attached to his spine. They fluttered again, a brighter light emitting from the edges, oh. His wings don’t always glow, they won’t glow when they’re being stimulated.

Your wing's nerves were linked to the ones that spread across your pelvis and down. You’d witnessed many demons talking about using it as a pleasurable advantage. Succubus was seen as a sex symbol, so obviously their experience matched the description. 

But you’d never gotten the chance to test the theory for yourself. Now that you have you weren’t sure if you’ll ever be able to stop. 

Without Heeseung’s knowledge, his cock jumped with each touch. It wasn’t that he was aroused, just overstimulated. He loud out a quiet whine, one that stopped as soon as it came. To you, he was so fucking pathetic. Whining after getting touched twice? But just as pathetic as he was, he was hypnotic. 

“Sh, I’m helping you in the best way I know.” You shushed his whines before you moved to stand in front of him, pressing your chest against his. Heeseung wasn’t sure what you were doing when you did that but then something surprising happened.

Your chest began letting out these small vibrations. Your eyes stared up into his whole you enhanced the force, your purrs reaching your throat. 

He was so pretty standing all pliant, unmoving as you controlled his body. The purrs came out of nowhere, the sudden affection catching you off guard. But you soon appreciated it, Heeseung deserved only the best.

It was at this moment that you decided that you wanted to keep him. There was no way in heaven or hell that you’d let anyone take him away from you, you’d let the world burn before a singular finger touched his- your- skin. From this second on he belonged to you, wholly and completely. 

You’d mark him after mating, your gums were already aching at the thought. As a demon, you could mate however many times you wanted. But you could only have one mate, your bite would solidify the union. 

But for now, you just returned your hands back to his wings. And as expected, he choked out another whimper, his mouth gaping open at the liquid heat gathering in his stomach. 

“Do you like it when I touch you like this?” Heeseung, thinking he was still sin-free, nodded his head. He adored it. 

You let out a cat-ish grin, your pointed canines poking from beneath your top lip. Heeseung knew of only two species who had pointed canines but only one had retractable ones. 

You were a demon. 

It didn’t scare him as much as he thought it would, but that doesn’t mean that he won’t say an extra prayer in the morning. 

And like always, you could tell that he had found out. “I’m a succubus, you summoned me.” Through Heeseung’s cloud of pleasure, he couldn’t make himself question you. Yeah sure, he totally summoned you. He’d believe anything you said as long as you keep making him feel like this.

His head flew back when your hand touched a specific spot on his wings, the only bare spot.

For both angels and demons alike there was a singular spot on the top corner of the right wing. It was bare of any feather, it was strictly skin. There was a small string of skin that held the strongest nerve in your entire body. 

The nerve was used for connections, it was what allowed them to converse with the wind. But it wasn’t until now that you both learned that it was much more because the second you touched it, you felt him.

You felt his every emotion, the warmth in his stomach, and the pounding of your cunt. 

It all happened too fast, gone before you could relish in it. But if you allowed it for now, there would be many other opportunities for you to test out the connection. 

After all, Heeseung would become yours for eternity. 

Your mouth widened in amazement as Heeseung came untouched, his mouth opening with zero sound coming out. You weren’t even sure if he knew what was happening, it made it all more enjoyable for you. 

“You came untouched?” It was a rhetorical question but still, Heeseung had no idea what you were talking about. All he knew was that there was a euphoric feeling rushing throughout his body, he’d never felt more alive than at this moment. 

All he wanted was to feel it again and again, uncaring about what you tabled it as. He didn’t know he could feel this good without sinning, he honestly couldn’t wait to tell his friends.

If only you could hear his thoughts, you’d bathe in them forever. It was cute how Heeseung thought that he was still sin-free, not knowing that he’d committed one of the worst ones yet.

The feeling faded away after a few more seconds, his mind clearing as his consciousness rushed back. He was now much more aware than before and finally noticed a new detail.

You noticed the way he was trying to look down and decided to be a bit kinder, allowing his head to move on its own. Heeseung didn’t seem to notice that he now had full control of his neck, all he saw was the giant wet patch on his bottoms. 

It was also now when he noticed he was crying, his tears making smaller marks around his wetness. 

“What is-“ He was cut off by your hand grabbing his chin, pulling his confused eyes away from his soiled pants. 

“I’ll make you a deal, hm?” Heeseung nodded through his crocodile tears, his puffy cheeks stained with his fallen tears. You gave Heeseung a small smile, making a point to soften your eyes to appear more trusting. 

“I’ll help you out if you promise to… I can’t say it, I know you’ll say no.” You knew how to play your cards with a man who was desperate enough to do anything. 

“Please, I’ll do anything!” Heeseung didn’t know a thing about being manipulated. It was a concept that didn’t exist in his world. Or maybe it did but was disguised as something much less sinister. 

“Do you promise?” A hiss. All it took for Heeseung to doubt himself once again was the small hiss that made its way through your throat. It sounded far less human than he was comfortable with, but he trusted you, did he not? 

The lord swore forgiveness to everyone who’s wronged him, why wouldn’t Heeseung do the same? 

“Anything, please I promise! J- just help me.” An angel's promise. It was the only thing you needed to know that you finally had him. 

The only other thing that every species knew about angels, was that they could never break a promise. It was the greatest sin of all, a betrayal that wasn’t worth forgiving. No one, not even the lord, forgave promises. It was the highest honour an angel could give, their promise. 

Heeseung knew that he couldn’t go back and undo what had been done, to take back the words that were spoken in a sense of urgency. And he didn’t really know if he wanted to, not when he was finally able to move his arms.

“Sit on the bed.” Heeseung’s legs moved under your command, the promise allowing you to control his every move. What he didn’t know was that you didn’t need his word to control him, it was part of your demon abilities. 

He had no choice but to comply with what you said, he wasn’t labelled heaven's highest angel for no reason. 

You weren’t completely sure where to start because usually you just did whatever you wanted, uncaring about the other person. All the other people who’d summoned you had already been asleep when you arrived and stayed asleep the entire time. Their mortal minds were far too weak to handle the pheromones releasing from your body, even the other supernatural species couldn’t handle it. 

“Mate me.” It was easier to get straight to the point, there was no need for any foreplay at this stage. The connection that you’d made with him was enough to prepare you for him, it was in your dna. 

Heeseung on the other hand, didn’t take it as well. He denied it right away, his head practically exploding at your words. Mate you? The lord would never forgive him, he’d be breaking his promise to him. 

Promise after promise, it was all Heeseung was good for. He’d promised his life away, his celibacy. He’d be banned from heaven, shunned of his wings. He’s already made the grave mistake of bringing you here, but this? This would cost him everything, his entire life. 

But still, you made him feel alive. You made him realize that he’d never felt anything before- not even joy. He’d been a cast of a person who he was forced to be, who even was he anyway?

A follower. And that’s all he’ll ever be for the rest of his life. He’s never hated anymore more than how much he hates you for making him come to terms with his life. 

It was his prayers that did this, why would the lord give you him if it wasn’t supposed to happen? You were supposed to be here, the lord approved of you. Why else would you come? It had to be what was happening, Heeseung was finally allowed a pass to be the person he’d locked away many lifetimes ago. 

But it stung, deep. His guilt came out in a wail of tears, angry fists banging against the bed beside him. His tormented thoughts roared with life, he was finally letting go. 

Fuck the commandments, fuck his promises, and he only hoped the lord would let him fuck you. 

And so with a wave of fresh tears and forgotten fears, he did what you said. He stood from his spot, your mind open and free of the handles you had strapped to his wrists. 

He’d pulled his pants down in one yank, his underwear pulling down with them. He wasn’t sure what he was doing, but he was alive. alive. Lee Heeseung was finally alive. 

The air smelt different, curtsey to your pheromones. Your hands felt rougher when they met his now bare chest, the bed feeling softer as his wings cushioned his fall. 

His head was clear when he felt your hand grab his cock, his heart void of guilt when he felt your mouth wrap around him.

But as the circle goes, it comes back around. 

Knowing that other men enjoyed thinking that they’re too big for you, you fake choked on him. Your eyes filled with fake tears as you pretended to gasp for air. Your chest heaved at an uncontrollable speed, fingers numbing at the thought of making him feel good.

Sex came naturally to Heeseung, which was something the two of you didn’t expect. His hands pulled your head back toward where he needed you the most, his thumb pulling your lips apart before he pushed you down to suction around him.

“God- you feel so fucking good.” He doesn’t even recognize himself anymore, his mind too full with the feeling of you to realize that he’d spoken the lord's name in vain. 

He wasn’t just betraying himself, he was giving up heaven. He'd give it away a million times more if it meant that he’d spent his life with you. Your name was the only one rushing from his mouth, the only one getting worshiped as your tongue wrapped around his bulbous tip. 

You used your tongue to trace circles around the small slit at the top of his cock, collecting everything he was giving to you. He tasted so sweet, nothing like anything you’ve tasted before. 

He didn’t warn you before filling your mouth, his amateur thrusts being overshadowed by your much more experienced lick.

You’d pulled away from him after holding him in your mouth, waiting to feel him soften before pulling him off. Heeseung’s head tilted to the side in confusion when you opened your mouth, sticking out your tongue. 

He wasn’t sure what he was supposed to be seeing- oh…

You felt a surge of confidence rushes through your body at the feeling of him hardening against your hands. “Already? you’re so needy.” 

You rose to a stand, grabbing his hands to pull him to stand instead. All it took was a snap of fingers for your clothes to be gone, leaving you completely nude. 

Heeseung felt like every moment of his life had led up to this, you were his final destination. Without him noticing, he whispered one final prayer. Right when he went to recite the trinitarian formula, he noticed.  

Guilt was unforgiving but so was hesitation. He hesitated to give in earlier, but now? 

“Are you ready?” Heeseung didn’t recognize his voice anymore, a much deeper one coming out. His hands moved on their own when he pulled your legs around his waist, pushing his hips forward until his cock pressed against your lips. 

You nodded once, pushing your legs further apart as you waited for him to make the move. He looked down at you cunt in appreciation, the lord really did take his time creating you. It’s too bad that his favourite creation was going to ruin it.

Heeseung wrapped his hand around his base before giving an experimental squeeze. Heeseung had never touched himself before today, having no idea what was supposed to feel good. 

He ignored his embarrassing inexperience and used his other hand to open you up for him. His mouth watered at the sight of your bare in front of him, you looked so welcoming. 

He tried not to stare for too long because he knew that if he did he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from using his mouth first. But he’d much rather finish it all off by licking you clean, drinking everything you have to offer. 

He tapped the head of his cock against you, watching from under his eyebrows at how you reacted. From the way your hips pushed up, he knew exactly where to touch you. 

He kept his head pressed against you as he pushed down, stopping once he reached your entrance. This was the moment that would change his entire life, he was never going to be the same way he was before. 

And when he finally pushed in, his head fell forward with a loud moan. The blood of the virgin became the blood of the demon, he was no longer considered an angel in the lord's eyes. 

Your hands grabbed his biceps as he pushed in deep, his cock hitting places you’ve never felt before.  He sped up, his hips slamming against yours over and over as he grew into a routine. 

You obviously liked the way he was moving if your moans meant anything. 

“Bring me to heaven.” You managed to plead through your now real choked gasps. Your head was filled with explosions of colours, real pleasure rushing through your blood. His big cock felt too good pushing against your gummy walls, each curve of him fitting perfectly in your crevices. He was made for you. 

Heeseung sucked in a harsh breath, a teasing smile growing on his opened mouth. His eyes were now open, staring into your own as he ravished your body for what it was. 

“But you’re a demon, and we’re already here…” He let out a small grunt at his harder thrust, his eyes closing once again. He’d lost count of the number of times he’d reached this specific spot in your body, but he was certain that once he found it again he wouldn’t let it go. 

“Not that heaven-” your smile matched his as your body burned with the same flame, your impurities mixing with his. You shakily raised one of your hands up towards his face, your fingers wrapped around his jaw as you forced his face close to yours. 

His eyes opened once again, his irises now completely black as he let himself fall into the pit of pleasure. “Your heaven” Your back arched with a moan while your legs tightened around his waist.

Heeseung swore he was in love. With you, and the feeling of you. Nothing could turn him back now. He pulled your legs over his shoulder, his chest pushing away from yours as he pushed all his weight into his legs and hips. 

He pressed kiss after kiss against your ankles, biting down to create indents across your calves. He knew this angle hit deeper into you because finally, he felt that spot and and over.

Both your volumes rose into near screams when you both reached your peaks. Without thinking twice Heeseunf pressed your knees flat to your chest, his neck stretching out to bite against yours. 

Your blood filled his mouth 

Angels too sealed the mating process with a bite, but it was different. The magic was stored in each individual tooth. The pockets of their poison were located in their mamelons. And so when the angel bites into their mate, the pockets open into small needles. Three sharp needles accompanied each tooth, it was the only part of the tooth that got pushed through the skin. 

Heeseung wasn’t lying when he mentioned not craving blood, but now? His arms shook when had to pull himself away from you, the desire to drink from his new mate stronger than anything. “Thank god-“ He didn’t know what he was thanking anyone for, but he needed something to fall back on. It just happened to be the roots that caught him. 

Your broken moans were drowned out by your returning purrs, your eyes white as they rolled into the back of your head. Holy fucking shit, Heeseung marked you first?

Without allowing Heeseung to pull out you flipped him over, his back flat against the bed while you sat flush against him. He looked up through tired eyes, his mind coming back to normal as he softened inside of you. 

“Don’t thank god, he had nothing to do with this.” You growled at the angel before you released more pheromones. They seemed to do their job as he was hard again within seconds. 

You felt him throb inside of you before you rose the tiniest bit, dropping down right away.  Heeseung’s hands gripped your ass, helping your waist move forward and back with each raise and fall. 

His hips buckled to meet yours, loud slaps echoing across the room as you sunk into him over and over. Heeseung forced his head up enough to look at where the two of you were connected and god, the sight didn’t fail. 

There was a thick ring of cum formed around his base, sticky strings connecting the two of you with every new raise. He’d almost come on the spot once again, his body way more sensitive than yours due to his inexperience. 

You saw the way his face scrunched up and automatically knew that he was trying not to cum. You used your mental hold on him to remove his hands from you and pinned them by his head. 

His eyes were wide when they met yours again. He felt his heart stutter at the glare on your face. Has he done something wrong? Is he not pleasing you correctly? 

“Don’t keep anything away from me, give it all to me.” Your hips momentarily stopped, only his tip remaining in as you stared down at him. 

“Breed me.” Your quiet whisper caused an eruption of pleasure to burst through his chest. He had you lying back on your back in seconds, his instincts putting you into the mating press. 

“Don’t start what you can’t end.” He didn’t say more before he pushed into you once again. He leaned his head down to meet yours, his lips pulling your bottom one between his teeth.

He gently tugged at it once before he forced his tongue between your lips, your mouth tasting of his earlier release. “You don’t look like an angel,” He ignored the harsh look you threw at him, giving you a small smile before he pressed his lips against your pulse point. 

He breathed in a deep inhale, his body welcoming your new scent, one that was mixed with his. He bit the skin twice, the second much harder than the first before he soothed the wound with his tongue. 

He trailed small kisses up your neck, all the day until he reached your ear. He pulled your earlobe between his teeth before placing a gentle kiss against it. “But you definitely taste like one.”

[astxroiid]

queen sized bed // mcu!peter parker

❥ one bed, motel after midnight, friends, young love, nsfw/18+, smut with a side of plot. dom!reader, mommy kink, unprotected sex, oral (m receiving), cream pie. ib: a little death by the neighbourhood.

wc: 2.7k (of pure filth + some fluff at the end)

navigation

You huff, flopping down on the motel bed, still a little frustrated from dealing with the receptionist at the front desk.

He had definitely been more of an asshole than he needed to be. And considering you and Peter have just gotten off a rough mission, you definitely aren’t in the mood to deal with him.

Poor Peter ended up having to step in and diffuse the situation before you decked the concierge. You rub your face, trying to think less angering thoughts.

“I think I’m gonna take a shower,” you announce, while you sit up and start rifling through your black duffel bag.

“Okay, just let me know when you’re in the shower. I wouldn’t want to turn around and catch you naked because of this stupid open floor plan.” yes you would. Peter laughs nervously.

“Sure thing,” you grab the last of your shower supplies and walk through the bathroom archway and begin to strip.

Peter tries his hardest to focus on unpacking his stuff but his ears keep returning to the sounds of items of your clothing hitting the ground. His mind following suit in wandering to you slowly undressing. Revealing more and more of your soft body.

“I’m in now, Pete,” you call, pulling him from the thoughts he definitely shouldn’t be having about his best friend and team member.

“Okay,” his voice cracks. Peter mentally face-palms.

He hears the water running and his mind slips back into his thoughts of you; the water cascading down your body, the way the soap will flow from your hair down your spine, or how the body wash would look after you ran it all over your—

Thud. “Shit!”

You dropped a bottle, bringing him back to reality.

Stop thinking about your friend like this, Peter. Be real with yourself, man.

ﾟ+..｡*ﾟ+

You finish washing all the soap off your body and reach past the curtain, grabbing your towel and begin drying yourself. Attempting to get as much water off of your person as possible.

Once you’re dry, you wrap the towel around your body and step out of the shower.

You look up, eyes landing on Peter’s bare back.

He’s looking into the sink while brushing his teeth - wearing only his black sweats that you love so much.

Feeling a wanton throb between your legs and a small burst of confidence - you walk up to him, wrapping your arms around his torso.

Peter continues bushing his teeth while he moves his free hand down to yours, lightly rubbing his thumb over your knuckles.

You both smile.

It’s clear Peter doesn’t understand the energy you’re trying to set. So, you help him get there a little faster.

You glide the hand he’s not holding down his chest. Using just your middle finger to make a path to the waistband of his sweatpants.

Your finger trails from side to side, following the line of his pants seam, lightly brushing over the small patch of hair that disappears beyond his sweats.

You can feel his breathing faltering and hear his heart pounding in his chest. Though; you’re not sure if that’s due to your ear being pressed to his back or the fact that his heart is just beating that loud.

You let your finger dip just beneath his waistband, loving the way his breath hitches in response.

You keep moving your finger back and forth, teasing the poor boy.

Feeling satisfied with how flustered he is - you back away and Peter tries his best to focus back on brushing his teeth.

“Pete?” You call softly.

He glances up, looking at you through the mirror right as you let your towel drop to the floor. Peter flips his head around to look at you - unobscured by the foggy bathroom mirror.

He lets out a breath, letting his eyes rake over your entire body.

“Well? Are you just gonna stand there and gawk or are you going to come over here and touch me, Parker?” You tease.

“Right,” Peter shakes his head, pulling the toothbrush out of his mouth and quickly moving to you. He stands tentatively in front of you, unsure of what to do first. He looks down at you questioningly.

You giggle and grab his wrists. “Have you ever done this before?” The question is genuine.

Peter’s face goes red. “Uhm... no," his response barely audible. He tilts his head down in shame.

You smile while you move his hands to your breasts. “That’s okay. Let me teach you.”

His hands gently caress your chest and you let out a soft noise that makes Peter’s knees go weak.

“Please?” He begs, feeling a pull on his groin as you arch your back into him. He massages your breasts, attempting to - and succeeding in getting more noises from you.

He slowly slides his unoccupied hand between your thighs, rubbing between the folds, finding your clit with such ease you have to wonder if he lied about his inexperience.

Any coherent thoughts you had left the moment he pressed his finger into you and started rubbing at an amazing and yet still agonizingly slow pace.

You glide your hands up his arms and to his face. Bringing it down to yours. You kiss him softly, moving your mouth in an easy rhythm for Peter to follow along with.

Peter moves his middle finger to your entrance and pauses for your permission. You grind yourself against his hand, hoping that’s enough of a yes.

He takes it and slides his fingers in with ease, surprised at how wet you already are.

“Fuck, y/n,” he moans into your mouth. His sweats tighten as he starts to pump his fingers in and out of you, lewd noises already making their way out of your mouth.

He’s lost in the feeling of you. It’s all he’s ever wanted and more. Just you and him. Melding together in such a beautiful way.

The hand on your breast moves to your hip where he rubs his thumb over the bone lovingly.

You move one of your hands to the side of his throat as you start to kiss his neck, leaving marks everywhere while grinding your hips back and fourth on his hand.

Pete’s breath leaves him almost completely, knowing anyone could see what you’ve done to him turns him on more than he thinks you could know.

You pull away abruptly. Peter feels as though he's missing a piece of himself as he watches you walk away.

You're at the bed, beckoning Peter over with a finger.

He wastes no time. Quickly walking to you and smashing his lips into yours.

Your hand trails down Peter’s chest and beneath his sweatpants. You massage him through his boxers and he groans into your mouth.

If he hadn’t already told you, it would have been an easy guess that he’s only ever touched himself.

“You’re so responsive,” you tell him as you part from his kiss to catch your breath. “I love it.”

Your hand moves out of his pants to his hair, tugging lightly on the soft brown locks. He groans again.

You smile.

“Lay down on the bed for me?” you ask softly.

He nods his head, eager to oblige any command you give to him.

He spreads out on the bed, propping his head on the pillows and making sure to get exactly how he thinks you want him.

“Good boy.”

Peter can’t explain the pride that swells in his chest at the praise. All he knows is that he’ll do anything to get you to say it again.

You crawl on top of him, straddling his waist as you lean in to kiss his neck again. Peter’s hands grip at the sheets as he attempts to hold himself back.

You move your mouth down to his collar bone, sucking on sensitive spots. You feel peter writhe and moan beneath you

You slowly move down his chest, taking your time the lower you get.

You smile up at him and pull on the elastic with your teeth, releasing it and letting the material pop back down on his skin. You tease him more by lightly trailing your finger around his lower stomach.

Peter makes a strangled noise. “Y/N... please,” he begs breathlessly.

“Please, what, Pete?”

“T-touch me. Please. I don’t think I can take it anymore,” he’s on the verge of whining.

“Since you asked so nicely...”

You pull his sweats down at an agonizingly slow pace, then doing the same with his boxers.Savoring every inch of new skin being revealed to you.

Once Peter’s dick is free, it springs up and lays flat on his stomach.

You feel heat rush to your core, along with a familiar wetness.

You bite your lip and take it in your hand, rubbing your thumb over the head.

Peter’s own head falls back against the pillow as his hips and legs shake.

“I’ve barely touched you, baby,” you note and peter could probably cum just from the sultry tone in your voice.

He whines and grips the sheets.

You use his eyes squeezed shut to your advantage and surprise him with your tongue licking up his cock.

Peter gasps and looks down at you. You smile back as you take him in your mouth, moving your lips all the way down to the hilt.

The noise that comes from the man beneath you is divinity. You to moan around him. His legs shake and he can’t help but thrust into your mouth.

You gag, which only causes him more pleasure and a small mmph noise makes it’s way out of him.

He grabs a light fist full of your hair, pulling you away from his cock.

"y/n, if you keep going I'll finish now," he's out of breath, sweat starting to form on his chest.

"That's the plan," the deep tone and tantalizing wink you give him as go go back down have chills running all across his body.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," Peter's while lower half convulses and you wrap you mouth back around him, grabbing a handful of his balls.

You wrap your free hand around the base of his cock. "You wanna cum peter?" You slowly pump his cock.

"'Wanna cum inside you... please," he struggles.

"Oh, baby. There's plenty of time for that," Peter feels like his heart is gonna explode from the leisurely pace you're stroking him at. "I'm asking you if you want to cum in my mouth."

He throws his head back and says through gritted teeth; "Fuck... yes, god, please..."

"Yes, what?" You prompt.

Peter's mind swirls with every possible word he could respond with in a matter of milliseconds. And, without thinking, he mistakenly says the one he's only thought about in his most intimate fantasies.

"Yes... mommy."

Fuck.

Peter looks down to see you smiling at him with mischievous grin.

"Mommy?"

His blood runs cold. Fear holing him still.

"I could get used to that," you wrap your mouth around Peter's balls, sucking hard as you go back to pumping his cock. Languid movements driving peter crazy as his mind swirls.

"Uh, fuck. Oh my-- shit, y/n..." he's loud, almost enough to make you worry about any residents in neighboring rooms.

You take your time, moving from sucking his balls to his cock, using any movement necessary to make him feel good. Completely focusing on pleasing the man beneath you. And you're doing an amazing job, you can tell by the noises. The occasional curse word surrounded by your name, blasphemous words, and a lot of whimpering.

He's close. The way his knuckles turn white as he grips the bed sheets. His thighs tightening, muscles flexing. His lips are pressed together and his whole body is stiff.

You bring your mouth down on his dick, taking all of him and squeezing his balls up to his shaft. You bring your pace up as fast as you can, relentless.

"H-holy, oh fuck- y/n."

Warm ropes of cum shoot down your throat, coating your esophagus in him. You swallow it all, continuing to suck at him until his whole body is shaking violently.

You pull off him with a pop, smiling like the devil.

Peter's out of breath, looking like a shell of a man and yet, so fucking hot. He's covered in sweat, chest, face, and thighs glistening. His cheeks are a rosy red you haven't seen from him before. His chest is heaving for air.

You kiss him so hard it steals any oxygen he might have gotten straight out of him. He grabs the back of your head, tangling his fingers in your hair and pulling you harder into him.

He's the one to break the kiss, still attempting to breathe. "You're amazing."

You smile. "C'mere," you lay on your back, pulling him on top of you. He props an arm on either side of your head, leaning down to kiss you as you place your arms around his neck.

You wrap your legs around Peter's waist, rubbing your soaked core against his cock. He whines for you in return.

His legs shake at the sensation, due to his sensitivity and a near-feral need for you. You pull away from the kiss, biting your lip.

"Peter," you breathe, almost a moan. "I want you inside me."

Words Peter Parker never believed he'd hear except when dreaming. He feels his cock start to harden again.

You feel it as well. Taking it as a sign to keep on.

"Peter... please," you pull his ear next to your mouth and whisper low; "i wanna feel your cock inside me."

He shudders, fully erect by now. Peter quickly grabs his dick, lining himself up with your entrance, waiting on your consent. He looks at you, the question in his eyes.

"Yes, peter. Fuck me," he needs no more reassurance. He slowly pushes into you, both yours and Peter's legs shaking from the pleasure.

"Ffffuck-" you interrupt yourself with a moan. One that makes Pete's brain go foggy, the only thought being fucking you.

He grabs your hips, expertly sliding himself in and out of you at a pace near divinity. Your mind is wiped of any coherent thought that could've ever been there except for the question of how he is do good at this.

"Fuck, shit. 'So tight." Peter rests his head on your shoulder as he fucks harder into you.

It's beautiful, in the most obscene way. The way your warm bodies are practically glued together, moving in a rhythm only your souls know. The noises flowing from your lips already have Peter rocking on the edge of release, and the groans from him are doing the same to you.

You place your fingernails at the tops of Peter's shoulders, dragging them down his back then around his ribs.

He takes in a breath, shuddering. "Fuck, fuck, y/n. I'm close. So close..."

"Cum inside me, Peter. Please," your walls clench hard around him and the sounds of his whines.

The feeling of your warmth wrapped around his cock, mixed with your sounds are the purest form of ecstasy for Peter.

He reaches between your bodies, pressing his fingers against your clit and circling fast.

"Oh fuck, oh my god," you moan loud, your whole body tensing as you cum harder than you ever have in your life around Peter's cock.

You look down, seeing you've squirted all over his lower half. Fuck. There's no time to think about it because Peter is following behind you.

He grabs your hips tighter, pulling your body as close to his as possible. Peter cums deep inside you, filling you with hot, thick ropes of his seed.

The way he looks in this millisecond of a moment will forever stay in your brain. Toned abs covered in sweat and glistening. Chocolate curls a mess, falling in his face. Face towards the sky, screwed up from a pleasure he's never felt before.

The way the light falls around his face illuminates him beautifully. Angelically even.

Peter pulls out of you slowly, both of you too sensitive. He walks to the bathroom, bringing back a damp rag.

"Here," he gently helps clean you up. Afterwards he cleans himself, tossing the rag and putting a new pair of boxers on. He hands you one of his shirts.

"Thank you," you pull the shirt over your head, feeling incredibly loved by Peter. Which prompts you to say; "Peter, I love you."

He smiles and looks so giddy he might float away. He crawls into bed, cuddling up to you. "I love you, too."

This one's been in the works for a while but holy shit, even I'm all hot and bothered from this lmao.

Reblogs and comments are always greatly appreciated! Thank y'all for reading!

[transgaysex]

slowly realizing that i might have to be the second to last kid to leave this fucking household

[elumish]

In the wake of what's going on in the world, I see a lot of rhetoric that basically boils down to the idea that everyone has a responsibility to watch every bad thing that's going on in the world all the time. That awareness itself is a responsibility that everyone has always.

I'm not going to say that people do or don't have a responsibility to be aware of things, but I want to talk about how to take care of yourself and others while doing so.

For some context, I spent close to a year and a half reading about every terrorist attack in the world as part of my work on the Global Terrorism Database. It was 2015/2016, so this was the height of ISIS/Daesh, it was a major time for Boko Haram, and it was when there was a lot of political violence that we weren't sure how to classify in places like Yemen, Crimea, and Libya (stuff the GTD didn't know how to classify had all of is information recorded, and then it went into purgatory until someone above my paygrade decided what to do with it). What this means is that I was spending 10-20 hours a week reading about hundreds or thousands of attacks a month and, in my case, recording infomation about the type of attack and the type of weapon. Much of my life was reading terrible things.

Limit what you do in isolation. One of the worst changes for me during that time, mental health-wise (even though it was great for my commute) was when I went from working in-person to working remotely. With other people, there are ways to diffuse the pain. A burden shared is a burden halved and all that. That may mean talking about it, or joking about it, or finding some other way to engage with it that isn't just reading about the most horrible things in the world and then stewing in your own thoughts about them.

Find something to do that's totally unrelated. I highly recommend finding something to do with your hands, if you can (knitting, Lego, cooking, whatever), but regardless of what it is, you should have some time when you entirely switch away to something different. During a fair amount of my time with the GTD, I was also doing my undergrad thesis about terrorism on TV, so a huge amount of my life was about terrorism in some way. The only other thing I watched was Great British Bake Off, and I would just rewatch the episodes, over and over.

Be compassionate about how you share information and with whom. Use trigger warnings, and consider using consistent tagging on places like Tumblr so people can blacklist it if they need to. Also consider whether it's appropriate or necessary to share photos of bodies or other results of horrible violence. What is it accomplishing, to show that? Can that goal be accomplished other ways that don't require the equivalent of jumpscares of unexpected photos of dead or brutalized people? Are you just showing it because you think that everyone should have to see it? If you are showing it, are there ways to mitigate against harm it may do?

Do what you can to avoid an echo chamber. Sometimes, when everyone around you is upset or angry about the same thing, it just amplifies itself, and you all get angrier and more upset in perpetuity without accomplishing anything.

Work towards action. Watching terrible things happen for the sake of saying that you haven't looked away isn't as meaningful as taking action in some way. Write to your Congressperson. Donate. Do whatever is appropriate for the thing you want to stop. But penance via watching terrible things happen doesn't accomplish anything.

Recognize compassion fatigue and do what you can to mitigate it. If you spend long enough doing this, you start to lose context, and you start to become less able to have compassion about things. If you're reading about attacks with dozens or hundreds of deaths regularly, five can start to not seem like that many. If you're reading only about the worst suffering in the world, "lesser" suffering of those around you can start to seem unimportant and petty. Do what you can to mitigate that.

Be kind to yourself. You do nobody any good if you burn out. Look away, if you need to. Take a break. Do things so you can enjoy life, because otherwise you are just another person suffering in the world. Other people's pain isn't a hair shirt for you to wear.

[phoenix-fell]

As someone who is both an older sister and raised their younger sibling, let me tell you why this scene was so good

It would be so easy to misinterpret Yang’s protectiveness over Blake here, but that’s not what’s happening. We’ve always seen Ruby as happy-go-lucky, follow-your-heart and do-the-right-thing, and it’s easy to forget that Yang raised Ruby, and the implied subtext there is that it *wasn’t* always sunshine and rainbows.

Yes, Yang is protective over her newfound relationship. Yes, she’ll maybe feel a little wounded that her sister is lashing out. But what we see here is Yang shifting ever so subtly into mother-mode. Yang knows this isn’t about Blake, or her and Blake’s relationship, she’s stepping in front of Blake to protect her before Ruby can say or do something she regrets. In essence, protecting both of them and trying to control the situation from escalating. Yang is stepping in front because she can take it, she’s GIVING her someone to yell at, because god knows she’s probably had to, at some point, take some lip in the past while the others have only ever known her as a strong, positive leader. She doesn’t shout at Ruby, she’s calm, lets her get it out and just looks sternly with a simple “Hey!” as in, ‘hey, that’s enough now’. 

Yang has expressed concern, and is concerned, but this is 100% Yang shifting into parent mode. This is brilliant because earlier in the episode and even last episode we’ve seen examples of Yang’s ‘concerned big sister’ side which is soft and supportive. There’s no malice in Yang’s expression, and it’s difficult to catch it because we haven’t had the best representations of ‘good mothers’ in the show, especially not ones that have had to chastise their kids at some point, but you can bet your ass that this is Yang’s parental mode stepping in to bring calm and stability to a chaotic situation. And that doesn’t always present as ‘let’s hug this out’, sometimes it’s stern, tough love and recognising that the younger one isn’t in the space to receive comfort, so the best you can do for them is diffuse the situation and be an authoritative voice of reason because she recognises her sister’s fragile mental state.

This is without going into how amazing Ruby’s portrayal was. Going after your sister’s new relationship is RAW, and personal, but it’s also what siblings do - they lash out sometimes when they’re under stress. The way Ruby says ‘we’re sOoOo happy for you by the way good for you’ - just SMACKS of younger sibling cutting loose and saying something they don’t mean, which makes Yang’s response all the more realistic for me. She recognises the tone, the almost-petulance and steps in before it can go any further.

It’s so subtle, but it SPOKE to me so massive kudos to Miles Luna and the animators for this. And god bless the clowns that use it as some sort of Anti-Bees discourse - the nuance is entirely lost on you.

[fwibblefwobble]

Jason Todd loves a lazy Sunday morning.

He wakes with his cheek smushed against the pillow. Blinking slowly, he lifts his head to assess his situation. The first rays of morning peek through the weave of the curtains, dousing the bedroom in a soft glow. The comforter bunches around your bodies, insulating your shared warmth. His left arm dangles lazily from your midsection. Your slow, even puffs of breath warm his chest through the thin cotton of his sleep shirt. He tilts his chin to look down at you, and relaxes. You're snuggled close and safe in his arms, right where you should be. His head falls back against the pillow and he closes his eyes. For once, he allows himself the indulgence of falling back asleep.

The second time he wakes, the clock face reflects 10:36. You begin to stir from sleep, slipping your hand from his back to rub at your eyes. He yawns, exhaling the funk of morning breath right into your face. Your nose scrunches and you feign offense before doing the very same right back at him. He recoils playfully, swatting at the air in front of his face.

The two of you lay in bed for another five minutes before he pulls you up from the bed and into the bathroom. He smiles at the way toothbrushes lean against each other in their container. It's the first thing he looks for in the morning, small but tangible proof of the life you've built together. He needs them, sometimes - reminders of the life he's living, the reality he has trouble trusting. Little pinch-me's litter the bathroom: his razor next to your face wash on the counter, two pairs of bathroom slippers tucked neatly against the wall, the mingled medicine cabinet. He smiles at them all as he brushes his teeth next to you. The two of you make eye contact in the mirror and exchange sleepy grins, sudsy mouths and all. He hums contentedly when you rope him into your morning routine, dutifully rubbing in the various serums and creams you dab onto his face.

He follows you into the kitchen afterwards to perform your respective morning tasks. It's a mutual compromise: Jason decides food, and you decide beverage of the morning. Today calls for tea, you think, reaching for the tin of lapsang souchong in the pull-out drawer. The pan sizzles softly behind you and you turn, interested. The sight of Jason, bedheaded and domestic, makes your heart squeeze in your chest. You can't help but walk over and press a kiss between his shoulder blades on your way to fill the kettle. He turns, gesturing at you to kiss him proper before going about your way.

A comfortable silence hangs between the both of you as you eat, intermittently broken by the scraping of silverware and sounds of eating. Diffused sunlight warms your skin to a glow, swathing your body golden against the shadows of the apartment. Jason admires you over the tilt of his coffee mug. He loves you like this, tousled and swallowed by your sleep shirt. He loves watching you eat the food he makes you. It helps him reconcile with the hands that made it, that they’re still capable of loving and nurturing despite the brutal take, take, take of his night job. You catch his stare and slow your chews, swallowing.

“What?”

“Nothing. Just lookin’ at you.”

“Something on my face?” You brush off the sides of your mouth.

“No, dumbass. I just think you’re pretty.”

You blink, your brain lagging in a response to dumbass and pretty said in succession.

Your face reflects your hesitation, and he laughs. He takes the opportunity to reach for your hand, kissing the inside of your palm and cupping his face. The display warms your heart and numbs your retort. You exhale through your nose, quirking your lips. It’s impossible to be miffed at him when he blinks slowly at you with those stupidly gorgeous eyes, blue and gleaming with mirth like burnished sea glass. He flutters his eyelashes at you, and all your remaining fight acquiesces.

“Was there anything you wanted to do today?”

He hums, considering. His head shakes no.

“Lazy day in, then?”

His head tilts, interested.

“What do you have in mind?” he asks.

“Well… we could finally do that read-a-thon thing we’ve been wanting to do for a while.”

You pause, considering. “I read your favorite, you read mine, and we can live react to each other?”

His face splits into a wide grin. “Deal.”

The rest of the day is spent on the couch with his head on your lap and a book in his hands. You mirror him in an upright position, fingers threading lazily through his hair in between flipping pages. Every so often, you look down at your hulking lap cat of a boyfriend to check in. Each time, you find contentment resting soft and easy on his face. Your heart squeezes with affection, proud of the little slice of heaven you’ve carved out of his day off.

Peace looks good on him, you think.