#I can���t believe this is my first post on this site

[simpingforheros]

Bring Me To Life

Pairing: Arkham Knight!Jason Todd x Female! Reader

Summary: Destroy the Batman and get his companion back? Jason almost didn't believe Slade until... Warnings: Usage of female pronouns, Nudity (NO smut), Swearing, Character Death, Angst, Resurrection, Infantization ( I didn't know how to better describe this), Unhealthy relationship dynamics, Kinda Dark/Obsessive! Jason, Mentions Electroshock therapy, Implied Brainwashing, Slade being a creep, Mentions of Drug Abuse, Mentions of Child Neglect, Mentions of Child Homelessness and unsafe situations, SPOILERS for Death in the Family (Comic 1988) and Arkham Knight.

Author's Note: Hiya Everyone, This is the first fanfic I've written in a while and the christianing fic for this account. I may start a casual little series with this, but I don't know yet. Also any comic and game inaccuracies are either because I forgot or I adjusted it to fit the story.

Also while this post is mostly safe for work, MINORS DNF AND PLEASE READ WARNINGS. I DO NOT AUTHORIZE ANYONE TO STEAL MY WORK OR REPOST IT ON OTHER SITES.

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It was supposed to be him...

Those dark nights he had spent alone on the streets as a child didn't seem so bad looking back on it. Jason understood struggle even when he had lived with his parents who spent grocery money on alcohol and drugs. Living on the streets didn't feel so much worse, especially since he had... "Jason, Mr. Accetta gave me some scraps from dinner rush today! There's even a whole pizza in here!"

Her. His one friend had since he was thrown into this harsh world. She was the only person he knew at the time to never stop smiling or finding a positive outlook on things. He couldn't even remember when they met, but he could hardly remember them being apart.

Whether he was stealing or fighting, she was there as a faithful lookout or a willing accomplice. She taught him how to take tires off of cars like her granddad taught her and he taught her how to throw a punch like his dad used to throw. An unstoppable duo who ran the alley as well as two 11-year-olds could.

The harsh winter nights they spent crowding together were his favorite memories from that time. Even with the bite of Gotham's winds at their toes, his partner would never falter to talk about anything and everything as he listened. She would talk about her dead grandparents a lot and all the stories she had with them before they passed away, but his mind couldn't recall them at all. He just remembers the constant dream that she told him every night.

"One day, Jay, I'm gonna have enough money and get an apartment in Old Gotham..." Jason's nose turns up as he listens to his friend as he bites on his food. "Why Old Gotham? Isn't it just falling apart?"

She giggles as she pulls the oversized coat closer to her shivering body. The jacket was from a relative but the fabric lost those memories as its fibers were now bones. She still had it even after she left the streets...

"Because it's the most beautiful place in the world...I will get an apartment someday and you and I will live there. We can even get like a cat or something."

The familiar burn on Jason's face blooms as he asks, "Why would you want me there?"

"Because it wouldn't be my dream home unless you're there with me."

He wouldn't find out until a few years later that her grandparents used to live in Old Gotham until her grandfather died and her grandmother had to move as she would unknowingly follow her husband not even a year later...

Those nights in the streets melted into nights spent in the warmth of Wayne manor. As the two thieves became kings after a faithful night with the Batmobile, Jason was brought into the world of crime fighting along with his closest friend. As they trained and donned their capes, She would show a new side of herself to Jason. The overly happy young girl from the streets became an anxious teenager as he became angerier.

"Jason..." Her voice woke him up in the darkest of nights. His body ached from the nightly fights from the previous day as he turned to see a familiar sight.

A now 14-year-old Y/N standing in the crack of the door. Her fidgeting figure indicated all he needed to know before he raised his blanket as she scurried to get in the bed. This was a ritual that started when they moved in. Both would grow anxious at night as they went from the open streets to a large, confining manor. Alfred almost had given up on trying to scold the teens as they were found sharing a bed more times than being separated.

As she curled into his side as much as she could without hurting him, he could practically hear her mind tinkering as her E/C eyes stared into his chest.

There wasn't the need to discuss what was on her mind. At least not right now. She was concerned about the growing tension between Bruce and Jason. He was becoming reckless and Bruce was having none of it with her often getting dragged into the middle of the fights.

He hated that he never tried more...

It shouldn't have surprised him when all the conflict had finally caused a break in the family. Especially when Jason began looking for his birth mother. Y/N tried to be supportive of him as he investigated his leads. Those leads eventually led to Jason reuniting with Bruce as he investigated a possible arms trade in Lebanon. The reconciliation and the prospect of finding his mother left him blind to any form of common sense, but what kind of common sense could a fifteen-year-old make in the life they lived?

He should have listened to her concerns when they finally found Sheila Haywood, his real mother. Y/N had a bad feeling from the start but he dismissed her worries. Jason had no clue that the night he was supposed to meet with Sheila was gonna end up being one of the worst nights of his life....

"Jason, maybe you should wait for Bruce to be here so he can come with you." She suggested softly.

His eyes roll as he adjusts his costume. "Because it's none of his business. I'm just meeting with my mom and talking out some stuff..."

He didn't tell her about the blackmailing he witnessed earlier that day between his mother and the Joker. But, he would find out later that she already knew about it through Bruce.

Her hand reaches for his shoulder and pulls him around to face her. "I'm serious. You shouldn't meet with a woman you barely know in some fucking warehouse in the middle of nowhere!"

Jason can remember the hurt he felt when he heard her snap at him, Oh, how angry he got with her when all she wanted was to protect him. He remembers yelling at her the worst thing he thought he could say to her.

Why the fuck did he ever say that to her?

"I'm sorry your parents didn't want anything to fucking do with you, but I'm not gonna let your bitter ass ruin my shot to be with mine."

He remembers the hurt that filled her eyes and the string of regret pooling in his gut. With a fake smile on her face and tears pooling in her eyes, Y/N says softly,

"Okay...I'm sorry," The sharp sting in his neck as she pressed the vial of sedatives Bruce gave her into his veins. "I'm sorry to do this, Jason, but Bruce said you wouldn't go down that easily."

Jason couldn't remember what he said after the spark of betrayal hit him, but he hated himself that the last time he saw those eyes they were clouded with the tears he caused....

"Y/N! Please talk to me!" Jason begs into the coms as he rod on the back of the motorbike with Bruce.

He should have known. Her instincts are never wrong and he doubted her.

When Bruce found him unconscious and told him about how Joker was involved in all of this, Jason should have known that it was all a trap. His mother wasn't a poor blackmailed soul, she was a conniving bitch who profitted.

He also should have known that Y/N was gonna go meet with Sheila instead of him. Where the Joker was waiting for her.

"Y/N, please. Please be okay...." He begged to the coms as he can only think about what he said to her the last time they spoke.

"J...Jason...."

"Y/N!" Relief washed over him like a wave as he heard her voice. Her broken pained moaned of his voice made him sick as he tried to at least rationalized that at least she was alive. "Don't worry, honey. We know where you are and we're coming to help you."

He didn't know that she was laying battered and broken against the locked door as she stared at the bomb that was ticking away on the wall. Her labored breaths blocked out the ticking on the comms as she whispers out.

00:12

"Do you remember the apartment?..."

"What apartment? The one you talked about in the alley? Why are you-?"

She interupts him, he can hear the familiar curl of her smile in her pained voice as she whispered,

"I wanted it to have a window facing the east end...the stars always looked pretty over there..."

00:10

"Y/N, what are you-"

"I wanted one of those Tabby-looking cats like the ones we saw in the alleyway outside of Mr. Accetta's restaurant...Name it Frank after that old Italian fucker...I was hoping we could go back and actually buy dinner in that restaurant someday..."

00:08

"Are you okay? Why are you talking like this? We are almost there. I can see the building! We are almost here. I'M COMING TO SAVE YOU."

Jason's desperation was palpable as he heard his beloved talk like she was on her deathbed. His panic causes Bruce to drive faster as the Batcycle inches closer to the warehouse. "Jason"

00:04

"Jason, I love you...I have since I was 13..." She admits as her voice trembles. "I used to dream we would become the family we always wanted with each other...Thank you for being in my life and I'm sorry I let you down..."

00:03

"Y/N, I -"

00:02

"Wait!"

00:01

"Goodbye, Jason..."

.

.

.

It should have been him who died that night... It was supposed to be him. NOT HER.

Jason blamed himself for her death as soon as he helped pull her broken corpse out of the rubble. He tried to convince himself that it wasn't her. This wasn't his Batgirl. Not his best friend who would run around the manor with him or help him pickpocket pedo freaks on the street. This broken little girl that was in his adoptive father's arms wasn't his first love. She was a bright, kind light who protected her loved ones, not this broken shell who wore her skin...

But, it was her...

He blamed Bruce for it too. He was the one gave her the orders to keep Jason away from the warehouse. He had to have known that she was gonna go instead. Bruce should have known she was because she wanted to be wrong about Sheila so Jason could be happy...

He also blamed the Joker. He wanted that Clown dead... His opportunity presents itself after he tracks Joker down to an abandoned wing of Arkham trying to flee from blowing up a children's hospital.

Blinded by his rage and bloodlust, Jason went in alone and without any communication. Y/N would scold him in her grave as he fell for the trap, sealing him in a cycle of hell for a year.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

"What if I could?"

"Do what?"

"Bring her back. Would you be willing to work for Crane if I could bring back the little Batgirl?"

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He knew it was bullshit.

Bringing back someone from the dead was impossible.

Jason would have been satisfied if his pseudo-partner/ prisoner, Deathstroke, just told him that he would be able to kill the Batman and wipe the hell hole that is Gotham off the face of the earth. He already dedicated a full year after his escape from Arkham to building his army.

His only regret during this time was not killing Joker himself. Even after all the torture and pain that clown did to him, he regretted not bashing the Joker's skull in after their last encounter as Slade helped him escape. It wouldn't have mattered to him at the time that Slade would have killed him because it wouldn't have been revenge for his own torture.

it would have been for Y/N. For the hell she faced that night. After a few months in Arkham, Jason almost accepted his torture as punishment for not dying that day for her because he experienced everything she felt. Every day he experienced everything she had to feel those short agonizing hours for an entire year. She must have been so scared and Jason couldn't save her.

The only thing that kept him from giving up was the memories he had of her and the burning hatred for those who caused her light to be snuffed out too soon.

He just wanted to feel that warmth again...

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

"If you can do that, then I'll burn the whole world to the ground for that fucking lunatic."

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"Please Jason. Let us help you!" Barbara Gordan begged from her cell as Jason snaps at her.

"THERE IS NO HELPING! I CAN FIX IT!"

Jason was manic. His men were being tugged around like dog toys by Batman and Slade had left him hours ago to attend some matter he didn't care to ask about. His time was running thin and he knows he needs to end this soon. It didn't help that those he didn't want involved are here as well like Barbara.

"Sir..." A militia soldier says as he nervously walks into the room. HIs men were already aware how stupid it was to come near him when he's in a crazed anger. Jason's head whipped at him like a feral man as he grits out.

"What is it?"

"Deathstroke is here...and he uh..."

Impatience reaches a boiling point as Jason raises his gun and shoots the militia solider in the head as Barbara shrieks. The red puddle of death fills the sterile room with lead as Deathstroke walts in. Jason turns his back towards him as places his helmet back into place.

"My, what a mess you made." Deathstroke mockingly scolds. The hidden smirk almost causes Jason to snap again.

"Where have you been? Batman is out there taking down my tanks faster than my men can repair them. You told m-!"

The Arkham Knight's monologue was intruppted as he turns to scold Slade by his heart dropping to his stomach at the sight before him. He swore that if he didn't hear Barbara's gasp and the whisper of fate's name, he would have woken up back in that dreaded wing of Arkham Asylum.

Slade chuckles as he rattles the chain in his hand as he says coyly, "What? Am I not allowed to go fetch your payment?"

Standing behind Deathstroke was a naked woman. Her tangled up (H/C) hair ran down her shoulders as her wide innocent eyes shined through the now white tendrils framing her face. Her body seemed more mature but all muscle mass she had was faded. Her face seemed aged but he recognized the curve of her nose and those lips he imagined smiling at him through his darkest moments.

"Y/N?" He helplessly calls out to her as he feels himself pulled towards her like a magnet.

If it wasn't for the stark white streak and gnarly, painful-looking scars on her body, Jason would have thought this was Scarecrow's fear toxin. It couldn't be possible, right? She was dead. He knew she was because he held her body. He felt how cold she was and watched how her lifeless eyes looked up to the ash ridden sky.

Those eyes now looked at him with no familiarity, but a childlike wonder as she naively smiles at him.

"How?" Was all the Arkham Knight could muster as he reaches to grab her. To pull her into his arms and never let her leave.

Deathstroke grabs the collar that was wrapped around her neck and yanks her back behind him as she chokes on her breath. He chuckles as he looks back into Jason's voiceless mask.

"The Lazarus Pit brought back her body." He explains as he hauntingly twirls the chain in his hand. "Of course, after you agreed to work with Crane, I brought her back immediately. Unfortunately, the poor thing suffered from Pit Madness."

A cruel smirk appears on Deathstrokes lips as he pushes the girl's hair back to reveal circular scars on her temples. Jason felt rage bubbling up in his throat as he recognized what those scars were.

Prolonged Electroshock Therapy

"You sick!" Before Jason could throw a punch, Slade places his gun on Y/N's forehead as he chuckles. The woman didn't even sense the danger as she continued to observe everyone with a curious eye. Jason immediately backs off as Slade continues.

"Of course. Her treatment did cause her to be cured of the madness but at the cost of her memories. She barely remembers how to take care of herself so you make it like that. Especially when you want to fuck her."

Jason was thankful for his mask as he would have killed him from his glare. To imply that she was just a potential fucktoy made him itch to bury this man in the deepest bowels of hell. As he quietly glares at him, Slade finally offers him the chain. The Arkham Knight accepts the chain as the assassin warns him,

"Now since you got your payment. You better keep your end of the deal..." His voice becomes threatening as he says.

"Because I can easily kill her just as I brought her back.'"

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AN: I was gonna write more, but I got exhausted so this is all I got. Let me know if it's a vibe or not.

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@simpingforheros fanfic. I DO NOT AUTHORIZE THE COPYING, STEALING, OR REPOSTING OF MY WORKS ON OTHER WEBSITES WITHOUT CREDIT.

[ramp-it-up]

Football Season

Summary: It’s Football Season. But you want to play.

Pairing: Beefy Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word count: 2K

A/N: it’s the first day of Kinktober! Hope you enjoy! You can read this as a companion piece to Party Games

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. SMUT! Read at your own risk; curate your own experience. Sportsball. Mostly pwp. Established relationship. Thigh riding,  praise/degradation kink, P in V, creampie. Not Beta’d. All errors my own. 

I don’t have a taglist. Please follow @rampitupandread and turn on notifications to learn when I post!

I Do NOT Consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.

It was your first football season living with your boyfriend. You moved in with him in the spring and had wonderful weekends in bed and hanging out with friends. Steve and Sam warned you about Bucky’s obsession, joking that you would be a football widow.

You laughed at the jokes and Bucky pulled you close to him, kissed your temple and said, “Don’t listen to these punks. I would never ignore you, Doll.”.

You believed him. Bucky was so supportive of everything in your life, your job, your hobbies, your family, that you wanted to let him have the perfect supportive football girlfriend on opening weekend. Steve was away for work and Sam was in Louisiana visiting his sister and attending a Saints game. You were going to prove that Bucky wouldn’t miss out on having the guys with him to watch his team.

Bucky looked so fine sitting on the couch, in a t-shirt and basketball shorts with his team’s logo on them and that made you want to serve him the best homemade sandwiches and beer ever.

After you went to the grocery store, you slipped into the bedroom and slipped on your surprise for Bucky, a custom black jersey with red trim from his favorite team with Barnes 001 on the back. You had it made for him, so it hung down your thighs, which were covered by the tops of thigh high red socks.  The kicker was what was underneath the jersey, but that was for later.

Now was the time for some food. It was almost kickoff.

Bucky glanced up at you from his fantasy football app as you placed the tray of food down on the coffee table and did a double take at you in the jersey. Bucky beamed at you as he leaned back and spread his legs.

“What do we have here, Doll?”

His eyebrow raised as he asked the question. You tried to ignore his man spread, even though it was your weakness.

“Just a present for my favorite football fan. I thought I’d break it in for you while we watch the game.”

Bucky grinned at you.

“So thoughtful, Doll. You look great in it. I might never wear it, honestly you look so hot.”

You winked at him as Bucky reached for you. He pulled you onto his thigh and kissed your forehead, temple, nose and mouth. The jersey was tucked under your bottom so you weren’t bare thonging it on his thigh, but you could feel the power there. But now wasn’t the time.

“I love you, Doll.” 

You winked at him, kissed his cheek, stood up and padded back in the kitchen, dodging his hand as he reached for the hem of the jersey. 

“Watch your game!” you called.

“I’d rather watch you, Doll.” 

Bucky’s head followed you for a moment, but he was soon distracted again when his team got possession of the ball.

Once you got him set up, you sat up on the couch with your head on his shoulder and your legs thrown over his. 

Bucky was entranced in the game, drinking beer, pumping his fist and throwing up his hands when his team lost or gained ground, and it was so cute to watch. You man was in his happy place and it made you happy too.

You snuggled his arm and kissed his bicep, feeling all warm and fuzzy inside, when during a particularly energetic show of emotion, Bucky’s hand came down with a slap on your thigh.

“Ow!”

You laughed as Bucky looked at you with concern as he rubbed your rapidly reddening limb.

“Sorry, Doll. You okay?”

“I’m good, Jamie. Just let me get my lick back.”

You reached over and pulled up Bucky’s shorts from the thigh closest to you and delivered a sound smack to the corded muscles there. You shifted as you looked at his thigh ripple slightly. He was so fucking thick and the whore in you awakened. Bucky just flexed and smirked at you as you lusted after him.

“I thought you were actually gonna lick it.”

That grin.

“Hmmmph.” 

You gave him a side eye and snuggled in again as he returned to his game, the idea of licking his thigh, and other things, taking over your brain. You shifted, the red thong you had on under the jersey now uncomfortable in your wet folds as Bucky got engrossed in the game again.

This was turning into a situation.

You didn’t know if you could be still for two more hours. It was only the first quarter. You stared at his thigh at the muscles shifting and moving as he did, and you didn’t realize it, but you were shuffling down his arm, your mouth nearing his muscular leg.

You snuck a look up at him to find him smiling down at you.

“You good, Doll? What are you doing? Why do you look like you’re about to commit a crime?”

Bucky could read you like a book. And you loved it.

“Hmmm. I just want a little… snack…”

With a mischievous smile, you fully committed and leaned down to lick a long stripe from his Bucky’s knee until your head was halfway covered by his shorts. Your mouth nose bumped his ball sack and you felt him jump.

“What the…?”

When you resurfaced, Bucky looked at you, sky blue eyes wide.

“You said you wanted me to lick it.”

You shrugged your shoulders and took a drink of water.

“I said I thought you were going to…” 

Bucky eyed you gulping down the glass and stopped trying to explain himself.

“You thirsty Doll?”

You wiped your mouth with the back of your hand and nodded, smiling back at the man who was not paying attention to his game anymore.

“Liquid is collecting places, need to replenish.”

Bucky leaned back, and hiked the leg of his shorts even higher. 

“Are you wet, Baby Doll?”

That name. Bucky had you.

You nodded, your mouth open slightly to breathe. He had you open.

“Well, you already got me wet, little Baby. Might as well finish the job.”

Bucky patted his thigh.

“.. But.. the game, Jamie…”

“I can still watch the game while you use my thigh, Baby. Climb on.”

You stood up and lifted the jersey to pull down the thong but Bucky stopped you with a whistle.

“Shit Baby Doll. Look at how you’ve ruined that pretty little red thong. Turn around.”

You did as you were told and Bucky picked up the thong from between your ass cheeks and snapped it back into place. Then he smacked your butt.

“That is one lucky piece of material. Nestled in all that ass so pretty.”

He turned you around with both hands and then stared at your crotch.

“You’re so wet that you are making this red thong even darker.”

Bucky picked up the thong from the front and ran his finger down to the wetness, then he pulled so it moved even tighter between your legs. That, coupled with him giving you that ice blue sex god stare almost made your knees buckle.

“I think you need to keep this on and use it to help you get off. Climb on.”

Bucky leaned back again and slowly sucked his finger into his mouth, slowly pulling it out for you to see. He knew that got you hot.

You did as you were told, using your hands to brace on his broad shoulders. You were down closer to his knee and he reached for you, placing his hands on your waist to drag you closer to him.

“Careful with that knee, Doll.”

The warning made you giggle, because one false move would not be so good for Bucky’s balls.

“Get comfy for me.”

You shifted, widening your legs, so that your knee simply slid along his wide open other leg as you moved, nice and slow, grinding your core into his hairy, beefy thigh.

“That feel good?”

You nodded quickly, biting your lip. You surprised yourself at how close you were so quickly and you balled Bucky’s t-shirt in your hands as your hips moved faster and faster.

“There you go. Good Girl.”

He reached up under the jersey and tweaked one nipple, teasing your rapidly heating body.

“Now, stay quiet and don’t cum, because I’m watching the game. It would make too much noise. But don’t stop moving either Doll. Can you handle that? Don’t cum until I tell you.”

You nodded again, not caring that what he said didn’t make any sense. You were already lost in the feeling.

Bucky looked back up at the tv screen, as if he was really watching the game.

You moved, your slick allowing your folds to skate along his thigh, the flexing he was giving you the perfect compliment the your dripping, throbbing flesh that you owned. You felt his cock, hard now against your own thigh and you shuddered, a new need awakening.

Bucky hands slipped under the jersey and both hands teased your hard nipples.

“Mmmmmmhmmmm, Buckyyyy.”

You arched your back and went faster as you felt your clit quiver against his flesh. Your pussy reacted instinctively.

“Damn, Baby Doll,” Bucky took a drink of beer. “Your pussy is clenching on my leg like she could take it inside her. Fucking whore for my body, aren’t ya? Wanna use me any way you want, huh?”

You shuddered again, Bucky’s filthy words making you even closer to the edge.

“Look at you, arching your back like a slut.”

Bucky pulled the jersey off of your body and his eyes raked over you.

“My beautiful little slut.”

Bucky leaned over and started sucking your nipples, hard, alternating sides and sensations between sicking, licking and biting.

“Look at you, riding my thigh and holding it like a good little slut. So obedient. So good for me.”

“Ahhhhh! Bucky! Mmmmmmmm.”

“Love it when you moan for me. Being such a good girl. My best girl…ah ah ah.. Hold it.”

Bucky was feeling you quiver and shudder on his thigh, not able to move anymore because you felt like sparks were shooting from where you were connected. He reached for you and grabbed you, dragging your soaking wet slit down the insistent ridge of his thigh.

“I didn’t say you could stop moving. Do you want to come? Tell me?”

“Please…Bucky…”

Bucky grabbed your throat.

“Not. Yet.”

Bucky was staring at you as you bit your lip, trying with all of your might to control your release. He watched the tears start to fall and he licked them from your cheeks.

You were so mesmerized by his eyes that you didn’t notice that he’d pulled his cock out from his shorts. He lifted you up by your neck and you stood on shaking legs and practically impaled yourself on him.

“Come on my cock then, Baby Doll. Come all pretty for me.”

You slid down to the base of him, wider than you expected although you’d had him hundreds of times before and shuddered from the stretch. 

“Oh fuck. Take my cock, Baby Doll. Fuck.”

That shudder led you into an intense orgasm, partially because Bucky was holding you down, making you feel him stretch you out.

“Look at you. I don’t even have to move and you come all pretty all over my cock.”

You started sucking his neck as you came, vibrating all around him.

“Oh shit, give me that orgasm.” 

Bucky started moving then, the obscene sound of your wetness filling the room.

“Yeah, yeah, of fuck, yes, yes, yes…oh God yes…”

You were mewling and whining as he pounded into you, your orgasm extending, blooming and growing.

Bucky pulled pack to look at your bouncing breasts and you realized that it was you fucking him now, and he was enjoying the show.

“Yeah, Baby, fuck me. Show me who I belong to. Don’t stop, don’t fucking stop until you cum…”

You put your hands on his chest and bounced up at down a what seemed like warp speed. Bucky cupped the base of his shaft as you fucked yourself on him and fingered your ass and your cunt as you moved.

“Oooohhhhhh! Bucky!”

“Oohhhh my Good goddd!”

Bucky roared as he spurted hot come in your pussy, and you didn’t stop moving until he was soft and slipping out of you.

You collapsed on his chest listening to his heart thump. Suddenly you heard the game again. A roar came from the crowd and Bucky pumped his fist.

“Yes! Amazing Score!”

You laughed as you kissed Bucky’s cheek and moved to go put the jersey back on.

Bucky kissed the top of your head as you leaned on his arm again. He put himself back in his shorts as he put his arm around you.

“My fucking good luck charm. My best girl.”

“Love you too, Bucky.”

And you dozed until he woke up with his head between your legs at halftime.

As always, if you liked it, please reblog! ❤️

[smellslikechahnspirit]

Chaos - part 2

[You found out you're pregnant, but are too scared to tell him]

BangChan x Reader

🕸🤍 read guide lines in Masterlist!

THIS IS (OBVIOUSLY) ALL FICTION AND IS FOR ENTERTAINMENT PURPOSES ONLY! THIS IS MY PERCEPTION OF HOW I THINK SKZ WOULD BEHAVE IN SITUATIONS LIKE THIS AKA, NOT REAL.

Please y/n...could you sit down with me for a second so we can talk about this? He already had such a hectic day and he didn´t expect you to come home to this kind of chaos. Felix walked out of the bathroom. Y/n is pregnant. He said very soft. But even though he said it soflty you both were instandly quiet. You looked at Felix, shooked, not believing what he just said. How dare you? You started tearing up again. Chris was so confused, and looked at the both of you, back and forth. Well, someone had to, and you clearly weren´t going to any time soon. I know it wasn´t up to me to say it, but I cannot stand seeing you both argue any longer. You´re both stressed enough as it is. It had to be done. Right after he said that he left through the front door. Leaving you two alone. Baby, are you for real right now? You´re really pregnant? You finally calmed down a bit, cuz the big secret was out now anyways. You nodded. I´m sorry for not telling you first, I just didn´t know what to do. It´s alright baby. He finally grabbed you tightly in his arms and stroked your hair. After a while of you both just standing there he went down on his knees, kneeling so his face was near your tummy. So were really having a little one aren´t we? You looked at him surprised. Wait, really? You want to keep it? You looked excited yet concerned, due to how much work it would be. Ofcourse I want to keep it baby, it´s ours. I know it´ll be hard, but we can figure it out, just like everything. I want to be the father of your children. You pulled him back up towards your face and kissed him. Afterwards you both smiled and he hold onto your belly softly. Now, should we go to the hospital, to see how our little one is doing? You nodded and both of you went on your way. 

04:12 PM 

And do you guys want to know the gender yet....oh what a second. Is everything okay? Chris hold your hand tight, worried there might be complications. You looked at him with fear too. No everything is alright, but...it looks likes theres 2. You´re having twins! You two instandtly looked at each other overwhelmed. Oh no....I got it wrong. As the doctor said that Chris looked slightly relieved, since he obviously had 7 ¨kids¨ already. You´re actually having triplets! You couldn´t believe your ears and were amazed by this new information, while Chris was now passed out on the floor. Hahaha well, this is gonna be one hell of a journey I guess. 

...Masterlist...

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☁︎

© 2022-2024, smellslikechahnspirit • No posting on other sites or platforms, rewrites, or translations

[imyourbratzdoll]

𝒑𝒆𝒂𝒄𝒉 𝒄𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒎𝒑𝒊𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒄𝒖𝒕𝒆 𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒖𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒏𝒆𝒓𝒅

🍓the strawberry shack masterlist🍓

summary - jake finally got time off work, and desperately needing some release, he decides to test out the strawberry shack.

warning - smut, gloryhole, swearing, slightly sub jake, creampie

18+ only please, the gif and headers I use aren't mine.

Warnings and Reminders - Please do not plagiarise, copy, repost/republish, adapt, or translate any of my work on any social media platforms, apps, or third-party sites. The only platforms I post my work on are: Tumblr and Wattpad. I do not own any character of any franchise (Marvel etc.) All my works are fiction and may be dark or triggering content: READ ALL WARNINGS BEFORE PROCEEDING.

Jake headed inside The Strawberry Shack, feeling slightly nervous and giddy. He desperately needed a release, and he hadn’t even been able to touch himself because of how complicated, tiring and busy the mission had been. He had heard many good things about this place, knowing the women were well looked after and treated right. Jake decided to give it a go, dressing in comfortable pants and a band t-shirt, his hair spiked and glasses perched on his nose. 

He walks toward the woman at the counter, giving her a small smile. “Hi, I uh…” Jake turns pink, clearing his throat, not exactly knowing what he wants. The woman before him smiles, telling him where to go and how much. Jake hands the money over. “Thank you!” He blushes as he walks past her, heading down the hall and into the room. He chokes on his saliva, staring wide-eyed at the many holes and women. He didn’t know where to go or who to go to. 

Jake looked around until he settled on you, noticing how his cock twitched as his gaze landed on your plump arse. You looked like a peach, a delicious juicy peach from where he was standing. Jake begins to head in your direction, practically drooling and nearly tripping as Jake continues to stare, not taking his eyes off you. He whispers gently before touching you, not wanting to startle you. “Hey, peach. I uh, this is my first time at one of these places, and I want to make sure it’s okay to touch you…” He pouts down at you, unable to stop his cock from twitching.

You giggle, feeling your heart warm as he asks. You wiggle your arse, pushing it back against his clothed cock. “Yeah, sugar. You can touch. I’m all yours for however long you need me.” You release a breath as he skims your plump cheeks with his hands before moving them to the front of his pants, unzipping them and pulling out his hardened cock. Jake’s hand moves up and down as he strokes himself, swiping his tip against your soft folds. “You’re doing so good for your first time… Such a big boy.” 

Jake whimpers, feeling his eyes slip closed as he places his swollen tip against your entrance and pushes in, grunting at how tight you feel around him. “J–Jesus… You’re so tight.” He groans, thrusting his hips and gripping yours. He’s never felt someone so tight and warm before. It was like Jake had entered heaven. He couldn’t stop the moment he slid into you, slamming his cock harder and faster into your soft cunt. “I–I can’t stop… It feels too good!” He cries out, one hand moving from your hip and slamming against the wall. Jake can feel your walls pulsating around him, making his eyes roll to the back of his head. 

Your hands curl into the pillow beneath you, burying your face into the softness as Jake slams harder into you. You couldn’t believe you had been getting every man who knew how to bring pleasure. Your cunt throbbed at the thought, causing Jake behind you to whimper and fuck deeper into you. His mushroom tip slams into your sweet spot, causing your toes to curl and your eyes to roll to the back of your head. “O–oh, feels amazing…” You manage to moan out, feeling your end near as he continues to thrust into your g-spot.

Jake feels the sweat building and his balls tightening, but he doesn’t want to cum until you do. He holds back, gritting his teeth and moving his hand underneath you, locating your swollen clit and rolling it between his fingers. “Mmm…” He groans as your walls flutter around him, sagging into the bed as your juices flow out of you and all over Jake and the floor. He begins to thrust harder, shuddering when his orgasm hits and his balls empty, burying his cock deep into you and filling you with his cum. 

You sigh dreamily, eyes fluttering as he pulls out of you and groans. Jake’s eyes lock onto your cum-filled cunt, watching it leak out, dripping down your legs and onto the ground. He gently tucks his softened cock back into his pants while he catches his breath and cools down his heated cheeks. “T–thank you…” Jake shyly replies, still not as confident. “You felt… Fantastic.” He blushes again before slowly walking off with a soft goodbye and a promise to return. 

You lie there, wondering what man you will get next. 

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

[motherofdragonflies]

The Elevator Game: A Choose Your Own Adventure Fic

Written by: @motherofdragonflies / bexgowen

Art by: @xfancyfranart

Rating: Explicit

Word count: 95,000

Tags/Warnings: Major Character Death, Choose Your Own Adventure Style, Psychological Horror, Canon Divergent, Post 15x03, Case Fic

Summary: 

The game is simple.

Get in an elevator, alone, and follow the rules. If you follow them correctly, the elevator will rise and when the doors open, they will open onto a world that is not your own.

When his brother goes missing after investigating the death of a teenage girl in a hotel in St. Louis, Dean Winchester is dismayed to discover it involved an internet legend called “the Elevator Game”.

He’s even more dismayed when Castiel—who walked away weeks ago and hasn’t been returning Dean’s calls—shows up, also looking for Sam.

Dean doesn’t want to work with Castiel, and Castiel doesn’t seem thrilled about working with him, either. Can they put their differences aside when  they discover that Sam disappeared after playing the Elevator Game? Will Dean and Castiel play the elevator game and travel to the Other World themselves? Will they find Sam before it's too late? 

The choice, dear reader, is yours. You are in control of the story.

But choose wisely, for once you play the Elevator Game, things may never be the same again.

Excerpt:

“Where did Ali hear about the game?” Sam’s voice asked. 

“She, uh, she loved scary stuff. Horror movies, urban legends, that kinda thing. I think she found it on reddit, in one of those scary story subreddits? I don’t know, I don’t…I don’t like that kind of thing. But, um, she was always talking about wanting to try it but you need a tall building and we’d never been anywhere anyway tall enough until…”

“Until that night. Did you tell the police?”

Lilah scoffed. “I told them. They didn’t believe me.”

“Lilah…what do you think happened?”

“I... I think…I think it worked.”

The audio file ended, and Dean sorted through the rest of the papers from the envelope Lilah had given him. The first page was a print out from a true crime subreddit: Dean recognised it as one that Sam checked constantly. His brother had highlighted a post on the page, one consisting of a single line that was posted four days after Alison and the others had disappeared:

Ali Bleaker played the elevator game.

Frowning, Dean turned to the next page and found that it was an article from a website called “The Ghost In My Machine”, titled “The Most Dangerous Games: The Elevator Game Revisited.”

Dean snorted at the title but read on:

"Some people know it as ‘Elevator To Another World’. For others, it’s the ‘Elevator to Hell’... But no matter the name, this peculiar…game, I suppose—although there’s nothing playful about it—it always said to have the same outcome, as long as you follow its rules to a T: By riding an elevator alone, visiting a handful of floors in a particular order as you go, you can transport yourself to another world entirely."

Dean stared at the words on the page.

Another world.

“Jesus, Sam, tell me you didn’t.”

Once upon a time, Dean might have dismissed the claim of ‘another world’ as something out of a science fiction story. But having visited several other worlds, Dean knew that alternate realities, multiverses—whatever you wanted to call them— were real. He doubted that something as simple as riding an elevator could take you to another world, but the idea wasn’t as far-fetched as he once would have believed it to be.

Snatching up his computer, Dean quickly pulled up the phone tracking site that he’d bookmarked and searched for the location of Sam’s phone. 

He was not at all surprised when the map showed Sam’s phone was at The Millennium Hotel, where Alison Bleaker had died.

Going up at @deancashorrorfest this October!

[folklorelover22]

Taylor swift endorses Kamala Harris for president 🚨

“Like many of you, I watched the debate tonight.

If you haven't already, now is a great time to do your research on the issues at hand and the stances these candidates take on the topics that matter to you the most.

As a voter, I make sure to watch and read everything I can about their proposed policies and plans for this country.

Recently I was made aware that Al of 'me' falsely endorsing Donald Trump's presidential run was posted to his site. It really conjured up my fears around Al, and the dangers of spreading misinformation. It brought me to the conclusion that I need to be very transparent about my actual plans for this election as a voter. The simplest way to combat misinformation is with the truth.

I will be casting my vote for Kamala Harris and Tim Walz in the 2024 Presidential Election. I'm voting for @kamalaharris because she fights for the rights and causes I believe need a warrior to champion them. I think she is a steady-handed, gifted leader and I believe we can accomplish so much more in this country if we are led by calm and not chaos. I was so heartened and impressed by her selection of running mate @timwalz, who has been standing up for LGBTQ+ rights, IVF, and a woman's right t her own body for decades.

I've done my research, and I've made my choice. Your research is all yours to do, and the choice is yours to make.

I also want to say, especially to first time voters: Remember that in order to vote, you have to be registered! I also find it's much easier to vote early. I'll link where to register and find early voting dates and info in my story.

With love and hope,

Taylor Swift

Childless Cat Lady”

[redbelles]

four? thousand? four thousand followers? cannot believe so many people are along for the ride as i cycle through various interests like a clown on a stationary bike!

okay seriously though, thank you! 4k is a milestone i never even imagined back when i first started giffing. to celebrate, i've decided to do a little mini prompt fest! to join in, just follow the rules below:

⬩ pick a color palette from this site (you can go ahead and create your own or use a premade palette) ⬩ pick a number between 1 and 50 ⬩ send me an ask with the color palette (either the name or a direct link) and the number and i'll make you a surprise gifset!

finally, i want to shout out some of the incredibly talented people i follow! tumblr doesn't allow more than fifty mentions per post these days (why this) so it is by no means a complete list, but these are some of the writers and gifmakers who brighten up my dash and inspire me every day! check them out below the cut ♥

A-D

@alethiometry @alinaastarkov @anya-chalotra @anya-chalotra @bamf @berthas-russells @bladesrunner @boozerman @brittany @caernua @carry-the-sky @charmtion @chris-evans @christophernolan @denvilleneuve

F-M

@facinaoris @floencepugh @gresit @ivashkovadrian @justadram @karenpage @kylos @ladyverdance @lucrezia-borgia @maddenrichard @madeline-kahn @marazhaiaezyrraesh @moonlight

N-S

@neuxue @ninzied @oberynmartell @onewingedangels @rhodeys @romanimp @sheryl-lee @sjoongki @sluttyhenley @stephsu @stevienick

T-Z

@therectoress @timothyolyphant @tomcriuse @ughmerlin @useragarfield @usershelby @villainelle @wolfes @yenvengerberg @zombeesknees

[goxjo]

HII I LOVE UR BLOG SM ITS SO PRETTY😭❤️

I wanted to ask how you make your cute PNGs with no bg and the animated thin lines???

They’re so cute (T T)

Hi nonnie, thank you that's honestly so sweet of you!!! Sorry for the delay, I got a little busy and tried to see if there are any free sites you can use to make these. Before I get to the tutorials tho I’d like you to know that you can totally request animated dividers from me lol (I’ve taken a couple before here!) just send me a few hex codes / theme colors + bg / transition colors (optional) <33

Anywhoooo I use photoshop for everything but the tutorials below the cut have free-to-use friendly options (I believe!!) ++ I made a separate post for the animated thin lines because tumblr only lets me upload one video per post!!

Tutorial on how I make my banners <3

⟢ ┈ for this tutorial, you can use Photoshop (Paid) or GIMP (Free)

GIMP was my 'training ground' for photoshop lol and the tutorial is pretty much the same for both editors.

I use the wand tool to remove plain / obvious BGs and the pen tool to remove any stubborn parts that the wand tool can't detect (some people prefer masking but this is just how I like to do it)

++ YouTube tutorials are pretty much available for both tools, and unfortunately I don't think there's any way around learning how to use them + the pen tool might be a little tough to get the hang of at first, but you'll get there!

FYI, I tried to use a few 'free bg remover' sites and they don't really do the trick for me :c Canva Pro has one bg remover tool but I haven't tested it out for myself!

Here's a quick little vid lol, I used my darling Eliza as an example + it's sped up to 4x!! Tip: You may add a green (or any vibrant color) layer at the bottom just so you can clearly spot any "strays" (also, my apologies just bc this is a very rough clean up pffft)

After 'cleaning up' I like to color panels with my signature colors <33 I usually just add a color overlay (double click / right click the layer + select ‘blending options’) and play around with blend modes

FYI, some people use Picsart to color their banners but tbch, I played around with it once before and I really just have no patience for the tool I'm sorry ;-;

I'm using Vivid Light @ 50% opacity for this example (it's also more or less what I used for the one on my pinned)

The rest is really just about layering + framing!! (if you're happy with the colors of your panel, you can absolutely do everything else on Canva Free)

For my banners, I almost always use this heart shape I got off google:

For the heart layer itself, I set 'Fill' @ 0% and use the outer glow feature in blending options so it looks something like this: (it looks transparent now but it becomes more vibrant when uploaded)

Then I put my 'cleaned' PNGs inside the heart, crop / remove borders (using the wand tool!!!), add sparkles (totally randomly placed lol) or other brushes, add a BG if I want, and that's it! All that's left is to export as PNG <33

BUUUUT AT THE END OF THE DAY If cleaning up panels / images is too much work (I know it is lol), you can always try to look for 'transparent [keyword]’ (e.g., transparent manga) images / panels here on tumblr or on pinterest. Most of them are free to use anyway + recolored too!! That way you can edit them more liberally on sites like Canva (Free) that more or less have similar options.

[callalillywrites]

Steve's Choice

I've been listening to a bunch of music (old and new) while working on various projects. A few songs have struck inspirational chords and are bringing about a few different upcoming stories.

Find Version 2 of this song here.

Here is the first story based on this song:

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader (can be read as gender neutral)

Word Count: 695

Summary: The time heist had been successful. Thanos was destroyed. It was time to put the Stones back where they belonged. Steve volunteered, and you knew it would be the last time you saw him.

Warnings: Bittersweet ending, angst, amicable breakup

A/N: It’s proofread but all mistakes are my own.

I do not give permission for my work to be copied or posted on other sites or fed into an AI machine.

*****

Steve was leaving.

You could feel it in your bones.

He stood near the platform Bruce had quickly assembled after Tony’s funeral. The Stones packed neatly and carefully in the briefcase Steve held. He’d just hugged Bucky. An inner joke shared between them.

Then, Steve stepped back, swiveling on his heels.

The distance between you had never felt longer though he covered it in a few steps.

A watery smile graced your features as you looked upon the man you loved for the last time.

“Hey, I’ll be back soon,” Steve said, the promise falling flat. His gaze never quite reached yours as he said the words. It confirmed the truth you’d known was a long time in coming.

You shook your head. “No, you won’t, and it’s okay, Steve.”

“But –”

“Steve, I love you. I think I’ve loved you since we met in New York eleven years ago,” you paused to gather yourself and retain what composure you had left, “but I’m not where you belong. I never was.”

“Angel, I…” Steve let the words die.

You could tell he wanted to lie to you. To tell you everything you wanted to hear.

A week ago, you would’ve wanted to hear the lies. You would’ve wanted to cling to him and believe them. But it wasn’t meant to be. It never was. His heart has and will always belong to Peggy Carter.

Before he could try and regroup, you pressed a hand to his mouth. “Please, I don’t want or need you to lie to me, Steve. This isn’t your fault, and I don’t need you to make this better. You didn’t do anything wrong. I won’t have you thinking you have.”

This time, you paused to swallow the emotion clogging your throat. It took you another minute to collect yourself and give him a genuine smile.

“Go and get your girl, Cap. She’s waiting for you. I just know it.”

You rose on your tiptoes one last time. With a soft kiss to his cheek, you whispered, “Be happy, Steve. You deserve everything this world has ever offered and taken from you. You’ve settled and compromised since you came out of the ice. It’s time for you to be a little bit selfish, even if that means you’re not mine.”

Steve stared at you for several moments, his eyes growing misty at your words.

Before you could step back, he’d set the briefcase down and grabbed you. His arms wrapped tightly around you while his cheek nuzzled against yours.

He didn’t say anything at first, but he finally whispered, “I really hope you find your one, Angel. You are not someone’s compromise or someone who should be settled for. I do love you, and I always will.”

A single tear streaked down your cheek. “I know. Maybe saying goodbye won’t be a bad thing. At least that’s what I’m hoping.”

His arms tightened around you, impossibly tight, then he slowly released you.

When he picked up the briefcase again, he tapped your chin like he was prone to do all the years you’ve known him. In the same soft voice, he said, “Don’t hate me too much, please.”

“I could never hate you, Steve. No matter how hard I might try to.”

With that, he gave a final smile, then turned toward the platform and suited. It was time to return the stones to their rightful places along the timeline. He had some branches to nip before they took hold and created issues within the universe.

In a blink, he was gone.

Five seconds, Bruce had said.

Those seconds came and went without Steve’s return.

Then again, you knew they would.

He’d gone back to Peggy. Just like you knew he would.

Bruce and Sam argued on how to get him back and what to do with whatever had gone wrong.

Turning to Bucky, you nodded towards your car and asked, “Want a lift? I think there’s a bar in town, and I know I could use a drink.”

Bucky, forever a friend, fell into step beside you. After a moment, he asked, “You okay?”

You spared a glance at the platform, then met his gaze. “I will be.”

*****

Main Masterlist / Song Fic Masterlist

[cody-00]

Euclase and Motivation Boredom

Note: this has been taken from my Twitter thread, but there's some edits I've been wanting to make, and generally multi-platform access is a good thing, especially here with how tags work on this site as well the amount of Euclase metas already present here.

It may feel awkward for this post to be based off of a source based in Western philosophy knowing the series' Buddhist influences, but the former's concise terminology helps illuminate the series without any evident conflicts. Conveniently, I have only needed to base this thread off of one article: "Immortality and Boredom" by John Martin Fischer and Benjamin Mitchell-Yellin.

If one believes that immortality necessarily causes boredom, Fischer and Mitchell-Yellin have observed two notable ways in which one could make this argument. One way, coined as "content-boredom", argues that immortality would eventually exhaust the supposed finite amount of desires that would drive a person to live (Fischer and Mitchell-Yellin 355). This is partially shown through the Lunarians. Their desire to pass on stems from the resignation that they have done everything that could bring any sort of pleasure. The Lunarian's problems regarding immortality do not stem from content-boredom, for there is a more existential component present, but it is a real factor. Content-boredom is limited to the Lunarians, for they, outside of Kongo, have lived much longer than anyone else.

The other way to argue immortality that causes boredom is to say that an immortal life would not be constrained by time, and, therefore, lack a certain urgency. Lacking the energy to actualize one's desires and complete projects would make life dull. This is labeled as "motivation-boredom" (361). While perhaps not as intuitive argument as content-boredom, motivation-boredom is an application of the common practice of procrastination at its most extreme. Where one may put off a task until the last possible moment despite wanting and knowing that they should have started that task earlier, people who support the idea of motivation-boredom believe people can and will put off everything indefinitely since there is no last possible moment. Motivation-boredom is best substantiated through the Earth Gems, but most importantly, through Euclase, an elder gem who displays more apparent control over the Earth Gems as the series progresses. Showing how this is the case is what the real substance of this post is.

First of all, Euclase's role in demonstrating motivation-boredom is something only Euclase can properly do. The other elder gems (i.e. Yellow Diamond, Padparadscha, and Alexandrite), are caught in problems regarding immortality that are outside of boredom. The same reasoning applies to Kongo.

Ironically, they acknowledge the idea that immortal existence fundamentally differs from mortals in a psychological sense, but they (through their own admission) ultimately seem unaware of how motivation-boredom affects their judgments. Before any budding criticism comes to mind in how the previous tweet is phrased, Euclase does only mention that an immortal being's sense of danger being distorted—not necessarily an immortal being's sense of urgency being distorted. However, the following paragraphs should demonstrate the compatibility and sometimes interchangeability between the two traits. Euclase's distorted sense of danger is actually rooted in Euclase's distorted sense of urgency.

Relative to other gems in the series, Euclase's conversations take a lot of focus on temporality. There are many examples. In fact, Chapter 4, their first major appearance, foreshadows this tendency. The third image shows a juxtaposition between Euclase and Phos in valuing time.

Another example early in the series (one in which credit goes to Shamu, for he pointed this out during our note-taking process of this video) takes place during Chapter 7 when Jade reports that Euclase dropped their schedule and is in need of more time to reassign roles for the future. The reason is indirectly linked to Phos, which hints at how Phos will impact Euclase’s future.

Euclase, contrasting from the Lunarians, values the benefits that come from the lack of urgency. With infinite time comes the infinite opportunities for conflicts to resolve. The earliest moments where this sentiment shows itself is through Chapter 41 and Chapter 58.

While a bit digressive for this post, Euclase's word choice incorporates time once more to compliment Phos' condition by returning from the moon in Chapter 58. There is an irony here in that Euclase's support for the idea that a lack of urgency eventually will towards positive outcomes through patience is vindicated through Phos. Euclase's encouragement to Phos could have only happened through the systemic neglect that Phos is under.

Chapters 60 and 61 display where motivation-boredom's consequences start to directly impact the plot. Euclase recognizes the threat Phos poses but fails to enact any action outside of sharing their suspicion to Jade and expressing an ambiguous threat towards Phos. Euclase failure here stems from two reasons. One is that Euclase misreads the identity of Phos. Lapis is a gem known for their analysis paralysis. Euclase, by believing Lapis has the most control over LaPhos, assumes that Phos would not follow through any plans with such haste. Furthermore, by predicting their actions through the Lapis-colored lens, they fail to consider what would happen if really is Phos in control, a gem that carries human-like tendencies to carry out tasks with an urgency.

The second reason originates from Euclase's inability to detect time constraints. Notice the juxtaposition between Euclase and Phos here: the threat not only fails to prevents the gems departing for the moon but actually hastens the result.

Even though Euclase manages to prevent a few gems from leaving the moon, it's a pyrrhic victory, suggesting once more how Euclase's inability to feel urgency causes negative results. Consider Rutile, whom Euclase successfully prevents from going to the moon. Rutile could have served as a pivotal piece in preventing the departure to the moon, for they were the only one to consider disseminating Phos’ plan to Kongo. Instead, Rutile’s psyche starts to take a turn for the worse in the series. Euclase’s failure here is multilayered.

Euclase starts to recognize urgency more due to Phos. Kongo's pending request for a self-imposed exile forces Euclase into action. Why Euclase feels compulsion to stay on Earth is slightly outside the scope of this post, but Euclase's argument for staying on Earth lies in identity and its connection to time. Note that Euclase's urge to make up each other's shortcomings results from Phos' actions as well as Kongo's response being tied to the relationship future life forms and the present day.

The scouting mission in Chapter 69 implies that Euclase's natural state is one that tries to maintain a state that avoids urgency when they can. Pad's analysis, considering their constant state of inactivity, suggests that Euclase's character has been unchanging for a while. The threat of Phos does urge Euclase and the Earth gems to respond with a defensive plan, however, as seen in Chapter 70. The following interaction between Phos and Euclase centers once more on time.

Euclase's decision for everyone to rest after the night raid lies upon the premise that relationship between Phos and the Lunarians is currently one of dysfunction. Urgency to act only comes when the danger is immediate and the time constraints are evident for Euclase.

When Phos is separated for 220 years, Euclase once again approaches the problem under the assumption that the amount of time to solve all the conflicts with Phos is not constrained by time. The following chapter shows Euclase's belief that Phos no longer endangers their safety; the small amount of motivation they have to ask Kongo to pray is caused not out of sympathy for Phos but instead of out consideration of the possibility that that Lunarians might invade.

While Euclase's reasoning to delay cleaning up during Kongo's birthday party may have justifiable reasoning, it does show how motivation-boredom even plays a part in casual situations.

Upon recognizing danger from Phos' imminent invasion, Euclase's response is to buy time, which seems rather indicative that their response to urgency is infinitely delay whatever causes urgency.

Through Alexandrite's action sequence, due to the positioning of Euclase at the start of the sequence compared to the other images, it almost seems as if Euclase is trying to delay inevitable danger by using their companions to buy time.

Based on Euclase's previous actions, their reasoning for their negotiation plea towards Phos expresses sincerity. However, as time has proven before, Phos shows that they need to be the danger in order for goals and desires to be reached. Euclase's shortcomings show that becoming immortal does not mean everything can be put off until later.

When wondering why Euclase fails to get anything done later in the series, a serious factor to consider is the influence of motivation-boredom. Euclase's passivity may not be entirely based on intentional callousness, for their existence and their relation to time distorts all decision making, and living as they have distances themselves from a perspective like Phos' and reinforces those distortions.

To wrap everything up, Houseki no Kuni frequently criticizes immortality. Does the depiction of both kinds of boredom claim are aspects that necessarily happen to those who have immortality? No. In a sense the two types of boredoms oppose one another, yet they coexist in this story. However, having these two kinds of boredoms correspond to a respective immortal species shows how these criticisms could happen to those who are immortal. Additionally, unlike content-boredom within Houseki no Kuni, motivation-boredom does not directly lead to unhappiness for reasons concerning the lack of energy to fulfill desires like its supporters suggest. Instead, the manga shows that those in power who lack urgency due to their immortality can lead to excessive and idle conservatism and eventual, destructive consequences by not recognizing and responding to time-sensitive issues. To me, that sounds more like a warning rather than a criticism.

The paper summarizes both types of boredoms, but interestingly, they reject these two concepts as sufficient reasons to oppose immortality. Originally, before making this post, I did not think either forms of boredoms had any merit, but analyzing Euclase has shown me that immortality would, while not necessarily causing motivation-boredom, a distortion of urgency within projects that would require it, thereby risking to harm one's quality of living. Furthermore, for supporters of content-boredom, reading "The Makropulos case: reflections on the tedium of immortality" by Bernard Williams may interest you. For supporters of motivation-boredom, I cannot say I have read them, but Fischer and Mitchell-Yellin's response on content boredom is based off of Todd May's "Death" and Martha Nussbaum's "The Therapy of Desire".

Fischer, John Martin, and Benjamin Mitchell-Yellin. “Immortality and Boredom.” The Journal of Ethics, vol. 18, no. 4, 2014, pp. 353–72. JSTOR, http://www.jstor.org/stable/43895884.

[circledotdestroy]

Retrospective - Chapter 5: Let’s Rock

Pairing: Shouta Aizawa x F! Pro-Hero! Reader (the slowest burn)Main summary: After 12 years, you, Pro-Hero Strife, has to return to Japan. Your objective: discreetly track down and capture Akari Kaneko, a.k.a. Pro-Hero Aegis— your old classmate who attacked you during her visit in America. In the aftermath of All Might losing his power, however, using UA resources has its complications. The most unexpected complication being Aizawa, someone you never expected to see again. Why does your past have to come back to haunt you now? Masterlist First Chapter Last Chapter Word Count: 3,869 words

A/N: Hey, I'm back. Sorry for the long gap between this chapter and the last. I know I said i was supposed to be post more frequently last time. This chapter was a struggle for me to write because I lost my grandmother to cancer a few weeks ago and that kinda caused a depressive episode. I think I'm better now tho! There's a lot of stuff going on with the anime and manga (I can't believe its ending) so if anyone wants to discuss, i'm here Anyway, thank you for stopping by, and I hope you enjoy the show!

The screeching device rattled from your hand to your skull.

A child-lock. Uh huh. If the past was in the past, what’s this about? You shoved the gym doors wide open letting all the heat escape the room. As you take a step forward, you wince at explosions blasting through the room. You forgot how hero training areas can rival a construction site in terms of noise. A tight grin cracked on your face as you scanned the potential disaster zone.

Where’s Eraserhead?

Around the rocks? You wondered about walking the perimeter.  Behind the towers, you tilted your head. Hiding?

Mere seconds and the adrenaline in the room burrows into your nervous system with the heat waves. You did the math from the time he left— from the time he left you were supposed to have at least 20 minutes, but you were caught off at 17. Three minutes can start and end a fight, you thought as you weaved through rocks falling from the sky. Did he really think you’d intentionally waste his time?

A rock the size of a steroid-addled moose hurdled toward you.  A loud CRACK traveled through the room—fragments raining around you. Holding your arm out you looked around you. Where the hell did that come from?  

“Are you okay?!” You turned your head to the direction of fast, frantic steps toward you. It was the boy in the knight outfit running toward you with smoke coming out of his calves. You glanced at the scratched knuckles of your gloves then gave it a shake to take the remaining dust off. 

Turns out there was dust all over your uniform. That’s no way to make a first impression on the boy who was racing to meet you. As you continued brushing yourself off you took a good look at the state of his uniform, also covered in debris, especially the guards on his legs. When he was close enough to speak to you nodded at him. “Kicked that rock pretty far—are you conditioning?” 

The boy's eyes widened behind his glass as color drained from his face. He “I am so sorry! I didn’t mean to—”  

“Hey, hey, hey,” you interrupted him as his arms went to his side. The boy was confounded by the disruption. “You don’t have to say sorry. I’m not hurt. I conditioned my hands a long time ago. I was a little older than you then, and I’m extremely old now.” You scanned the room swiftly to see if Eraser had decided to investigate the noise, to no avail. “You can go back to your training,” you finished, waving the boy off. 

Before you can go back to your mission the student stopped you. “Wait, I’m the class representative, and a student at UA. I should've been a better example…”

“Then do better next time? There’s a lot of people in here, think about that before you kick the big rock somewhere.”

“I see…” The boy’s hand came up to his chin as he pieced together what you said. You couldn't help wondering if your accent somehow got worse between the meeting and now.  “All of the students training in the gym together is not only about our ultimate moves, but about our awareness of our environment as well,” he commented, although it was clear he was talking to himself. “I take your advice to heart! Thank you—uh?

“Strife. I’m the Pro-Hero Strife.”

“And I am Iida Tenya.” The boy said bowing before you. “Thank you for your advice, Ms. Pro-Hero Strife.” 

You pressed your lips in a tight line looking across the room as the boy continued to bow in gratitude. In all your years, you’ve never quite understood what you were supposed to do in these types of situations. Having someone bow at you was up there with people singing happy birthday or crying, in terms of you not knowing what to do. The best thing you knew to do in either of those situations was move it along as fast as possible. 

Luckily it didn’t last for as long as it felt it would. The boy stood upright and gestured toward the device you held. “Ms. Pro-Hero Strife? I don’t mean to be rude but your tablet has been ringing this whole time.”

“Yeah,” you lifted the tablet higher. “I was borrowing this from Eraserhead. The screaming won’t stop until I get it back to him. Have you seen your teacher?” Apparently he was exactly the one to ask, giving you precise instructions on where to find him. Mic should really take up some lessons from this kid.

By the time you spotted Eraser standing by the side entrance, the one that came from outside, your need to roll up and say “What the hell is wrong with you? I thought we were cool—” was gone.  Explosions and the sound of bowling balls striking drowned out the sound of the tablet. Getting closer to Eraser your spine heats up like a wire. Your eyes locked onto the girl with pink skin above you on a plateau immediately. You crossed her path like a black cat, giving her a slight wave, but not truely stopping to interact with her. She waved back before nearly getting hit on the head by a Smile Man. Two steps later your spine increased by a few more degrees. Still feeling her eyes you glance back to see she was drawing the pathway between you and her teacher. When you reached your destination, you held out Eraser’s stupid little tablet.

“You’re here.” He took the tablet off your hands and tapped at the screen disabling the alarm. “Did you get the information you needed,” he asked with holding the tablet closer, swiping and tapping at the screen. 

A passive aggressive half-thought bubbled in your mind, but floated away just as quick. You weren’t trying to start anything and you were just relieved there was no more high pitched screeching in the menagerie of sound. “For now, yes,” you answered, turning to stand next to him. 

The mountain range ahead was truly something else. Three of the mountains had their own light show going on. One of the mountain tops had a laser beam, another had a full solar flare that made the mountain look like a volcano, and the third was capped with flaming ice. From your time in both countries you can confidently say that pretty lights were one of two things that people across the world could get excited about. Think about it, fireworks, lasers, glow-in-the-dark toys, neon lights— who doesn’t like those things? The only downside these things could have is that they’re often paired with loud noises. Like the explosions in the air and bone rattling booms hitting the pavement.

As you watched the lights, Eraser fiddled with his device, reading something you can’t see on the screen. He didn’t look confused at all so he couldn’t have read your notes.

“I spoke to your class president,” you continued, putting your attention on the flaming ice. “Your students are very serious.”

“That’s how it’s supposed to be.” 

“All of them, or just Iida?” You grin at the swaying flames in the distance. Eraser lowered his tablet and set his eyes on you. Your spine started to heat up and you didn’t have to mention moose-sized rock or how his student tried to apologize to you. “You shouldn’t get nervous, he was training and he’s supposed to improve… I can see—I think he cares more about training than we did.”

“When did you ever care about anything?”

You chuckled and looked at the flames again, “I cared. Less than you but I still cared.”

“I’m sure you did…”

“Iida should work on his aim for his Ultimate Move. I’m sure we both know a giant flying rock could really hurt someone.” Eraser doesn’t respond. Warm air begins to suffocate you next to him. Out of all the dumb jokes you could’ve made that’s what you chose? Adjusting the guards on your arms you looked off. A few Smile Mans— Smile Men(?), were still with the students you could see. The other man, the Cement Snowman was missing, either having left or camouflaged extremely well. That left the only actual adult you’d rather be with— “Where’s Midnight, anyway?”

“She’s helping a student on the other side of the room,” Eraser stated plainly. The explosions from above shook the room as it did before. Bits and pieces shatter and fall onto the main path connecting the mountains and plateaus together. 

“Alright then…” Somehow the steep slants and the narrow trails with falling ruble looked more comfortable then how this conversation felt.

Shifting your weight side to side, the image of stumbling, toppling over the side consumes your thoughts. Yet you still took a step forward. With Midnight on the other side of the gym, and Mic not around at all, you needed to make your own exit. The only practical excuse you could think of was observing the students close and that meant… Looking up toward the looming peaks you gulped.  The looming peaks made you gulp. 

Another heat wave flushed your skin and buried into your bones. Your skull felt like it was expanding. If you weren’t working then you wouldn’t have been okay with this. Eraser of all people should know damn-well you wouldn’t have, maybe that’s what he was relying on. Here you were though, poised and marched into your work as you always did. 

Adrenaline was in the air. 

You’ll work with this.

Eraser called out after you before  you left his sight. “You're not taking notes?” He held the tablet out toward you, but you put your focus on the path ahead. You declined. He’d probably put another one of those god-awful alarms again. His head turned from where you stood to what was behind. 

“Are you sure you can walk okay?”

Your lungs filled with sand. “Why wouldn’t I be?” You smiled as your heart picked up the pace. Did he notice it when you were in the observation room? Or was it the meeting? It’s possible he noticed before than and chose not to say anything before now. The way he tucked the tablet under his arm told you nothing about what could’ve given you away. “The path isn’t smooth. I can ask Cementoss to make a wall if you’re worried about falling.” 

“I’m good,” you said, your smile turned tight. So he didn’t notice your injury, he just wanted to use your past fears against you. Go figure. “I’m going now. Bye.” You didn’t give him a chance to respond before you turned and dropped your grin. You sighed and prepared yourself for the journey ahead.

Having to ignore your fears for the sake of a mission was nothing new. You’ve had to climb and jump off objects at great heights to face opponents and beasts alike. Occasionally you had to jump from one rooftop to another when you worked in a main city. The main difference between then and now was you had a goal. If that’s all you needed…. All you had to do was approach every trainee. Get enough information on their quirk to have an idea then move on. That’s easy! You already saw the class rep, who has speed. He has a good amount of power if he was able to kick that boulder at you. When you punched it, it felt like it was about 1200 pounds–good to know…

You walked past a few more students. The boy with super strength, the other boy with the tail, diaper boy… The next student on the roster was a girl with a frog-themed uniform. She worked on camouflage, which could be seen as strange considering she’s wearing bright green. Then again you wore bright red and she hasn’t noticed you. Actually now that you think about it, the last three didn’t either…

Well that’s awful!

 Grabbing an outlying curve in the wall beside you broke off a chunk. Staring at the back of the girl's head, you counted to ten, but she hadn’t sensed your presence. You squeezed the chunk with both hands until it crumbled to bits. Twenty seconds and the girl still hasn't seen you. You picked a pebble to place between your fingers. Pointed, aimed, then fired toward the wall behind her. She leapt out of the way as a projectile pebble flew past her. 

You hummed. The lack of awareness was concerning, for her and the other students you walked past. However, her reflexes are good for a first year. Shrugging you continued your hike ready to find your next target. 

Flicking pebbles toward students yielded some interesting results. Out of the ten you launched pebbles toward, eight students with the first girl included, had excellent reaction times. Then of those eight, three students– a tall boy with extra arms, a girl who created a giant iron bar, and the girl with pink skin, who shrieked and melted the pebble on instinct–spotted you after stones were thrown. Of course you apologized and said they could ignore you. 

What you weren’t prepared for was student eleven. Unlike the first ten, he stood by a giant generator. The coat of paint was the same green of the robots used for challenges and tests when you were a student. When you entered his vicinity, he faced the path and waved enthusiastically. “Oh, hey!” It caught you off guard. You tried to subtly put the pebbles into your pocket as you met him halfway. The pebbles scattered across his platform when you felt your work phone. The boy, one of the little rockstars from earlier, buffered as he saw them roll away. “So that’s what you were doing— I was wondering when you were gonna get to me! You’re a Pro, right? I’ve never seen you before, where are you from?”

You thought of how to answer the question, but was interrupted by someone below you. “Kaminari! Is that mystery woman up there with you? Who is she?”

“I don’t know! She was about to tell me before you had to interrupt!”

“Well, excuse me for— AAHH!” The girl shrieked. You jumped to the edge of the platform with grit teeth leaving the boy behind you. “Aizawa-sensei!” The girl became pastel at the sight of her teacher drawing closer. 

“Do you have an ultimate move ready, Ashido?”

The girl slumped, “no… But who is SHE,” the girl pointed up at you. Standing upright again, you waved at the two beneath you. When you stopped waving, you used that hand to brush on top of the itching wound and dug your nails in. Eraser kept his eyes on you and you tilted your head back at him. 

The boy, Kaminari, stepped closer to the ledge. “Yeah, she just showed up unannounced in the hallway. We’ve been dying to know!”

Eraser’s hair raised toward his student, but the energy flowing through you stopped leaving you cold. You forced your weight to bended knees. “Does it make a difference to your training?” Dizziness struck you at the distance between where you and they stood. Your side was burning hot, probably because of your little hike. Stepping away, you’ll look suspicious; but if you did nothing you could topple over. You swallowed. How were you supposed to make him stop? Kaminari was downtrodden— he and Ashido didn’t get there answer

“Good morning, I’m Pro-Hero Strife,” you said as kind as you could muster despite yourself. After a split-second of confusion, the students brightened up. “I’m here to help you with your license exams.” You looked toward Ashido who beamed with energy as Eraser’s hair fell back in place. “I’m sorry I didn’t say my name earlier. We wanted you to focus on Ultimate Moves.” As you explain, the warmth of your energy creeped back into your spine. You took your focus off the girl to say a half-hearted apology to Eraser, a simple “my bad, I won’t distract your students again. I mean it— forever, for life.” Now came the exit strategy: “You will know more about me later with everyone in your class okay? Focus on training for now, cool? Cool. ” you and the girl waved goodbye at one another as you stepped away with a sigh.

“I know— Aizawa is scary sometimes,” said Kaminari. 

You chuckle at the statement. “Really? And he lets you call him ‘Aizawa’, casually? My old teacher would’ve made you run laps around campus.”

“Wait, you went here?”

“Yeah, fifteen years ago– I’m like really old.” You nodded.

Kaminari hummed, “doesn’t that make you the same age as Aizawa?”

“Are you ready for that exam now,” you asked. You didn’t feel like giving a history lesson on your personal life at the moment. The flare in your back spiked as the trainee’s curiosity dropped into horror. “No? Alright, then I guess it’s time for me to go,” you held your hand out to the boy catching him off guard. “Right, we don’t usually shake hands with—”

Kaminari shook your hand enthusiastically, “it was cool meeting you!”

After shaking hands, you went back to scaling the mountain. If how you felt earlier told you anything, time was ticking. You needed to hurry before you made your condition worse. Patting at the phone at your side, you thought of whether you should call the medic. When you’re alone you’ll make the decision. You could only call when you were in your hotel room. If anything, after training you can find a way to leave if it gets to that point. 

After Kaminari, you passed by three other students— the boy with red hair punching away at the wall, the other rockstar who made smaller rocks explode, and the boy with the burn scar who was responsible for the flaming ice. You didn’t bother launching pebbles at them. Moving things along, three more students were left at the top. Two of them, a boy and a girl, were in the sky–you don’t know how to work with that, the other one you couldn’t see was shooting something from the platform above you. You squinted at the shiny line in the distance, as you approached closer. Was this plastic—

The ground slid beneath you, then it was gone. You fell parallel to the plastic piling on the floor. The length was the same as a three story house. You attempted to grab the knife at your side, you moved the phone in your pocket, but grasped at nothing.

That’s right… Campus visitors couldn’t bring weapons into school; and you didn't even sign the official papers yet. Falling down, your body twisted until you faced the wall. Generating as much force as you could, you jabbed at the rock.

Fireworks burst your eardrum when your right hand pierced a hole in the wall. A tight coil squeezed around at your side. Thundering explosions rattled your skull, split your brain down the middle.

“What were you doing falling like that for!” A rough voice boomed over the explosion. Two more sounded off before you were slumped on the ground breathless. When you opened your eyes a masked boy with gigantic grenade-style gauntlets and an orange X across his black tank top blurred across your vision. “Aren’t pros supposed to watch where they’re going?”

“Wow. One interesting way to speak to a person you saved—” you commented, pushing yourself up to stand. The shattered remains of your work-phone scattered across the top of the plateau caught your eye. “And my phone’s broken now too…” you finished, looking onward wistfully. 

“You flung yourself off the tower on purpose,” the trainee asked, irritated and baffled at your vacant diatribe. 

Behind you Eraser rushed toward you, and that girl who was in the air floated down. “What do you think will happen when it’s your turn to take the exam?”

“Hey, are you alright?” The girl asked when she was shot in earshot. She touched her fingertips together in a diamond shape– it must be how she activates her quirk. You raised your gloved hand, the one you put through stone, to show off to her. The material had damage, but it was minimal. Just a few scratches. Eraser was getting closer too, anything you’d say he’d hear. 

“I put my hand through the rock a little hard. Your classmate caught me and he did good. Thank you for—”

“Just GOOD?”

“Bakugo,” Eraser called out, the blond student snapped his head up bearing his teeth like that security guard at the entrance. “That’s not how you speak to guests, or people who are helping you with the exam.”

“You made a choice and you acted fast,” you explained. “Your catch was done well, you didn’t hurt me more. If technique was the only thing judges grade on, you would be great.” The boy muttered before walking off. Eraser’s hand clutched at the binding cloth bunched at his neck. 

You raised yours distracting him from grabbing the kid to tell him to respect his elders, you shook your head at the man. He lowered his hand on his weapon, thankfully. God-forbid makes the kid bow to apologize to you. Walking away you went to inspect the remnants of your phone, so much for calling the medic later. 

 “Well…” Eraser opened disturbing the silence in the hallway. After all the improvised excitement happened you were called in by the PA system to Nezu’s office. You signed some papers, got your badge made, and then he wanted to get your opinions on the students you watched today. Eraser entered the room when the conversation was almost finished. When the meeting with Nezu was over, you decided to excuse yourself for the day. Eraser being the gentleman that he is, offered to show you out the gate. The moment he approached the office doors, you could feel he was worked up by something. “What did you think?” 

 “One day in the country and my phone broke,” Eraser didn’t appreciate the joke though. You didn’t think he’d get worried about your evaluation today. “Don’t stress, your students are fine.” You thought about bringing up how most of them didn’t notice how you walked by them and even had pebbles thrown at them, but you figured you’d save that for another time.

“I’d say they’re better than fine considering one of them caught you… what was that anyway? I can’t see the logic behind you falling on purpose.”

“That one student knew why in seconds— you shouldn’t think too much about what happened.”

“So you grew out of your fear of heights then?”

You thought about a moment from when you were younger. A time where you would complete these types of assignments. You held your head high, confident as a lion in front of your classmates; but when classes were over and it was time to tutor Aizawa on some moves, you’d joke about how freaked you were. At one point, you told Shouta all the times you thought you were going to fall before practicing his takedowns. “We grow up eventually, don’t we? I’m not a child anymore, Eraser.” 

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Taglist:

@lonelyghosts-stuff

[transgenderteensurvivalguide]

Hello 🌼 I was thanking about facial hair. I'm AFAB. I don't plan on going on T (and I heard it can make you grow facial hair naturally?) but I still would want to grow a beard, or a mustache perhaps, in the future. Would hair transplant help me with that or would my hight estrogen/ lower testosterone make it not work out?

Lee says:

For folks who are unfamiliar, a facial hair transplant involves taking hair from a donor site on your body (usually the back of the head) and transplanting it to your facial region.

It's a common procedure for individuals who cannot grow facial hair naturally or who have patchy beards, and a beard transplant is a viable option for people who do not want testosterone, or were not happy with the amount of facial hair they grew on testosterone.

Transplanted hair behaves like natural hair. Once it's transplanted, it will fall out initially and then start to grow back over the next few months, eventually growing like regular facial hair, even if you're not on testosterone.

AnotherPascal has posted about his beard transplant on Instagram and TransLife&Wife has posted about his on YouTube.

There's an article about beard transplants for trans folks called Facial Hair Transplantation for Transgender Patients: A Literature Review and Guidelines for Practice that was published in the Aesthetic Surgery Journal in 2021. I believe it's open access and I would highly encourage you to read the whole thing!

Like natural facial hair, transplanted hair may require regular trimming or shaving, depending on your desired look.

Testosterone & facial hair:

However, as you've heard, testosterone can indeed stimulate facial hair growth, which is why individuals who take testosterone (T) may experience increased facial hair over time.

You mentioned you do not plan on taking T, which is perfectly valid, but if you think there's a chance that you may change your mind in the future then I would consider waiting for the facial hair transplant until you're at least a couple of years on T because it can take time for your facial hair to fill in.

If you choose to not take T and just go straight for the transplant, having higher levels of estrogen won't necessarily negate the effects of a hair transplant. The transplanted hair is genetically programmed to grow in its new location.

In theory, the lack of testosterone might mean that the hair grows less densely or slowly than it might for someone with higher testosterone levels, but I don't think that's necessarily the case here because the follicles being transplanted are from the head so they'd behave more like head hair than beard hair.

Finding a Trans-Friendly Provider (for a facial hair transplant):

If you're considering a facial hair transplant, the first step is to consult a doctor specializing in hair restoration. They can assess your hair quality, discuss your expectations, and determine whether you're a good candidate for the procedure.

Referrals: Consider asking for referrals from local LGBTQ+ groups, transgender support groups, or healthcare providers known to be trans-friendly.

Consultations: Schedule consultations with potential surgeons. Use this opportunity to ask about their experience with transgender patients and facial hair transplants specifically.

Online Research: Look for reviews or testimonials online. Some websites are dedicated to reviewing medical professionals, and others are focused on the LGBTQ+ community.

Professional Organizations: Check if the surgeon is a member of professional organizations like the World Professional Association for Transgender Health (WPATH), which could indicate they're up-to-date on best practices for transgender healthcare.

Keep in mind that any surgical procedure comes with risks and costs. Ensure you're aware of these, and don't hesitate to seek a second opinion if you're unsure.

It might also be helpful to connect with others who have undergone similar procedures or are exploring similar options. Online communities, support groups, or LGBTQ+ centers can be great resources, but it isn't a very common procedure so you may have more look looking to cisgender men who have done similar things.

Facial hair transplants are often considered cosmetic procedures, which many insurance plans do not cover. However, coverage varies widely, so it's important to check with your insurance provider. It may be possible to appeal a denial for coverage by saying testosterone isn't indicated for you so this is a necessary treatment to resolve gender dysphoria etc.

If a procedure can be deemed medically necessary (for example, as part of gender-affirming treatment), insurance might cover it. A therapist might be able to help you make this case to your insurance company by writing a WPATH-style letter of support saying that you need it for Gender Dysphoria Reasons tm. It's also helpful if the office of the doctor doing the hair transplant writes a letter of medical necessity too.

Look for a surgeon who is board-certified in plastic surgery or dermatological surgery. This indicates they've met specific educational, training, and professional standards. It's also beneficial if the surgeon has experience with transgender patients, as they may be more attuned to your specific needs and goals, and may know how to get insurance to cover it.

It may seem obvious, but you have to make sure they have extensive experience with hair transplants, particularly facial hair transplants. Unfortunately some doctors are in it for the money and don't put patients first and/or think they're more capable than they are. To make sure they're up to the task, ask to see before and after photos of previous facial hair transplants they've performed, especially for patients with similar goals to yours.

And again, look for patient reviews or testimonials about their experiences with the surgeon. Pay particular attention to the experiences of trans individuals. I can't emphasize how important we are as a community-- we need to look out for each other and make sure that people don't see predatory providers!

Finally, it's crucial that you feel at least somewhat comfortable with the surgeon. They should treat you with respect, listen to your concerns, and provide thorough, honest answers to your questions. You don't need to be best buddies and they don't need a stellar personality either, but you need to feel like they're competent and that you are comfortable asking them questions about your care and could speak to them if you had complications.

While you wait for your consult, there is one alternative that you can try.

Minoxidil (Rogaine):

You can try minoxidil to increase your hair growth. A lot of people use minoxidil (rogaine) on their faces, and a few use it for body hair. It’s considered an “off-label” use- it’s officially approved for head hair and not other locations. Lots of medicines are used off-label, even prescriptions can be given off-label safely. Topical minoxidil is generally safe, as long as you use the dose recommended by the doctor/the bottle.

There's anecdotal evidence that minoxidil can stimulate new facial hair growth and may help thicken existing hairs. However, its effectiveness can vary, and there's limited scientific research on its use for facial hair specifically.

You can get it over-the-counter (aka without a prescription) online through Amazon or other sites, or at a pharmacy like CVS or Walgreens (it’s usually in the isle with men’s hair products like beard dye, and razors).

Minoxidil is generally safe but can cause side effects like dry skin, itching, and irritation. It's also a long-term commitment; you'll need to continue using it to maintain any new hair growth.

You shouldn’t use more than the recommended dose per day, no matter what body part it goes on (i.e. you shouldn’t cover your legs in it, unless you can stretch the normal dose that far). This is because minoxidil is a vasodilator, which lowers blood pressure. You also shouldn’t use oral minoxidil for hair growth because oral minoxidil is used primarily to lower blood pressure. 

Will minoxidil (i.e., Rogaine) enhance my facial hair growth?

Using Minox for facial hair

Minox is deadly to some pets like cats and may cause hair growth in unusual places

A high concentration of minoxidil (like 12.5%) can cause low blood pressure

My Personal Experience with Minoxidil Pre-T

If you have some peach fuzz from Minox, dying your existing hair darker with facial hair dye might make it more obvious. This is also true for your body hair.

Will facial hair dye make my facial hair appear thicker/denser?

Remember, there's no one "right" way to be you. Whether through medical procedures, hormone therapy, or personal expression, what matters most is that you feel comfortable and authentic in your own skin. If you're sure that you don't want T, then maybe a facial hair transplant might be the right option for you!

Followers, anything to add?

[orangepeelshortbreadcookies]

Hello!!! sorry i jum in here but i saw many post of your as a polin pen hater. You can hate what you want of course but its necessary to lie just to hate a character because of her body??? it wasnt that bad, she was not mean.

yes, what she did telling the ton marinas secret was not the best choise but it was what she thought it was the only way. Do you all wish for colin a marriage with not love?? and in a more practical way this is fiction and we all now he was going t end with pen , they are end game and thi is romance, its suppouse to be romantic that theu found each other, and for me it is. She didnt told marina secret because she wants colin for herself , she never thought she cold have him. maybe yo dont understand this but we, fat girls who are foung unattractive NEVER expect love or having a man, even less somone like colin. I think you, as many sadly, jugdge Pen actions too strong and deep down its all becuase of how she looks. Depp down i know you judge her action strongly becuase you can't accept that a woman who looks like that get something. I know you will keep hating, just want to say my opinion

(2) I saw you ask once why we ( pen fans) are mad when people hate her like you do if we got everything, saying like she happy and get married and LW. i will answer that from my perspective. Im fat, people is mean and that herats and yes, maybe it not a good things but it nice to have a revenge for all that suffering , but beside that i feel represented FOR THE VERY FIRST TIME in a romance show, ALL THE ROMANCE FEMALE LEADS AND THIN WOMAN and for the first times she looks like me but everyone is hating her becuase of how she looks and the worst is anyone accept its becuase of that, you all write long essays jugdging her actions but as i said, Were her actions that bad???? think about it fr......

Others please also refer to this post for more context.

I did not intend to answer this ask, because honestly, I'm really very lazy. Since there are only so many ways I can make my argument against the same accusation over and over again, especially to someone who clearly doesn't want to listen, I figured ignoring was the right decision. I'd rather spend my creative energy and efforts on my own writings, instead of figuring out another elaborate wording on how being critical of a character's actions does not equate fatphobia, and that personal adversity does not equal a 'get out of jail' free card for repeatedly inflicting pain on other people on a mass scale. I've talked about it in depth in my own blog, as well as reblogging other eloquent, well thought-out posts from others, Polin fans and anti-Polin fans alike. You can just scroll through my blog to see that. But I don't think you have come after me, time and again, to be convinced.

Even now, I still think ignoring you would have been the smarter, or at least, easier course of action for me. But I digress. Maybe it's one of those days where I feel more confrontational, maybe my ADHD is acting up and my meds are not hitting as well today, maybe after weeks of stress-filled personal achievements I'm feeling talkative seeing someone trying to disturb my peace. Nontheless, since you've made diligent efforts in seeking out my response, today's your lucky day, once and for all.

Something my mutuals and followers might have learned about me, is that I, being pretty fucking lazy, don't post/write a lot. To remedy this, when I do post, oftentimes I try to be as thorough as I possibly can. So, in the spirit of being thorough, here's a little log of the things I have received in the past weeks, on this site as well as on AO3, some of which, @cherryblossom970sblog, I have reasons to believe came from you

So you feel represented by character. Awesome. Good for you. You should celebrate it with like-minded people. You think nobody likes Penelope the way you do? Find the ones who do. I can assure you, they exist. I saw them daily on my dash. Read fics that bring you joy. Don't read the ones that don't. I have seen way too many Penelope/Anthony, Penelope/Benedict or even Penelope/Gregory fics, or fics where Penelope just straight up abused Colin that are celebrated in the comments. I don't like those and you know what I do? Scroll past those fics or click out of those and not read them. You know what I don't do? Go after the writers, try to police their writing, and accuse them of bigotry for not catering to my preferences.

Accept the fact that it's not going to be a 100% percent approval rating. And that's fine. That's part of life. I'm a primary Benophie fan, I've seen people wanting Benedict to end up with different people. It's their prerogative, I leave them alone. I have mutuals who have different takes on actions of Kate, Edwina, and Anthony, with varying degrees of feelings regarding how season 2 ends, and I have my own opinions. Personally, I find all three parties were wrong in that triangle, especially Anthony, and the sisterhood between Kate and Edwina in that season ought to have been handled with more respect and care. And my mutuals and I have civil, nuanced discussions about such things and ending those with still different opinions. That's okay. They're fictional characters and their actions are up to character analysis. It's fine.

What ISN'T fine is obssessively stalking inboxes of strangers, REAL people, unleashing insane level of hate and prejudices in defence of a FICTIONAL character, and accusing them of crimes they OBJECTIVELY did not commit, all because they don't share your opinions. I know you don't think this kind of behaviour is okay, you said so yourself that it's not a good thing. You've experienced fatphobia, you have my sympathies for that, but it doesn't give you the right to be shitty to other people. Your own bad experiences do not entitle you to disrespect, dismiss, invalidate and insult the people you harassed, including me, many of which are WoCs who have valid concerns regarding how their own experiences are represented and treated on the show. My struggles of being a bisexual, Asian, immigrant woman does not excuse me from being toxic to people who have done me no harm. I will not be vindicated in demeaning someone who have criticisms against the actions of fictional character who share my traits, criticisms that I just happen to disagree with.

And frankly, I find reducing the nuances of a character or person to only their bodies, to contribute (as either condemn or excuse) their actions to be only the result of their bodies, fucking insulting. It's infantalising and dehumanising.

Have a nice day and happy shipping. Leave us alone.

[flamebringer0]

More About Nightwing Powers

I decided I had more to say about this post, so I reblogged it and wrote some more. It seems like when you do that Tumblr doesn't put the post into tag searches, so nobody can actually find it. I'm just going to copy the full text into a new post. I'm sorry if this spams anyone's feed, I just don't understand how this site works yet. I've never actually had a blog before.

-----

Ohhhh damn I just had another thought about this. This is my problem, I think about this stuff all the time and I keep coming up with new things I think are cool, but now that I've written all this out and published it for the whole world to see I can't change it so easily.

It's actually fine though. These thoughts are kind of a mix of things I think are canon but sufficiently non-obvious to be worth stating (All Nightwings have powers at hatching and then lose them), things that are definitely not canon but I feel like it doesn't mess with the story too much to change them (Prophets have a silver scale on their foreheads), and things that are ambiguous and I'm just filling in the blanks (fake Nightwing magic is based on their sense of smell). But there's a fourth category, which is things that I don't like about canon but changing them would basically entail writing a whole new story. I'm pretty sure this new idea falls into the latter category, so I wouldn't really have put it in that post anyway.

But let's explore the hypothesis that Tui T Sutherland and Scholastic collectively lose their minds and give me the rights to Wings of Fire, and also I have infinite time, resources and motivation to make my own adaptation of the story. Then what happens? Well, the first thing is obviously to change animus magic to be something other than total omnipotence, because omnipotent characters are the kind of albatross (tee hee) you don't want around your neck when you're trying to write a coherent story. And the second thing is to make it so the terrible Rainwing queens in book 3 are hereditary royalty and Glory is not, because I've never liked the valorisation of hereditary royalty in WOF (or in general), and that would be an easy way to subvert that. And THEN I would turn scavengers into lizard people, because I am a furry and I think that's cuter than making them humans. Lol.

But somewhere down the list would be the fact that I don't actually vibe with the idea that normal Nightwing seers/mind readers apparently have a built-in power limiter that varies randomly according to the specific individual, and the special gift you get for hatching under three moons is just to have that limiter set to 0. I don't like this because, first of all, the fact that it works like that just doesn't fit into my brain in a satisfactory way. Hatching under zero, one, or two full moons each results in a qualitatively different outcome, so in my mind, the third full moon should also do something qualitatively different. But it doesn't, it's just the same as two full moons but better. And then I'm left to assume that there are probably very rare cases of twice-moonborn Nightwings who have all the power, just because whatever secondary factors there are happened to line up in their favor? Weird.

But the more important reason is, I don't really like the idea of Clearsight as someone who has extraordinary power because she just hatched that way. Nor do I like the fact that the reasons for this are, on the one talon, unexplained (maybe inexplicable?), and on the other, not a function of who she is as a character. I think it would make for a much stronger motif if run-of-the-mill seer Clearsight were able to take down once-in-a-generation chosen one Darkstalker because she's diligent and doesn't believe in destiny while he's entitled and sure of his glorious future. At its core this feeling is actually the same thing as what I said about the Rainwing queens above: I just don't find it satisfying when the hero has some kind of special trait that makes them naturally better than everyone else. A villain can have that, but a hero I want to prove themselves through their own efforts. But that's explicitly not what happened in canon: Clearsight IS naturally more powerful than all the other seers, that's an essential part of her story, and changing it requires basically rewriting the books. I don't love it!

So anyway in the universe where I'm rewriting the books, here's a thought about how Nightwing powers might work. This partially contradicts what I wrote above, but I've decided I'm cool with that. I love contradicting myself actually, and maybe next week I'll contradict all of this again. There are no laws.

Some Nightwings are seers, some are mind readers, a few are both, and most are neither. But aside from the fact that an individual might or might not have these powers, they don't vary in strength from dragon to dragon. All seers have equally strong abilities, and all mind readers have equally strong abilities. But the strength of the abilities does vary: not per individual, but over time. Specifically, the current state of the moons affects the abilities of empowered Nightwings. On a hypothetical "darkest night" with three new moons, all Nightwings are effectively powerless. On the brightest night, empowered Nightwings experience the full strength of their abilities. Seers can easily look down many different paths into the distant future, and mind readers can easily examine any information in the mind of another dragon. Of course, the phases of the three moons are not synchronous. Most of the time, the moons are all in different states, and empowered Nightwings experience abilities somewhere in between those extremes.

Above, I said that the "strength" of Nightwing abilities doesn't really vary per dragon. Strength, as I use the term here, only refers to the raw potential to look into the future or into another dragon's mind. But different individuals do have different levels of adeptness when it comes to applying their abilities. On the brightest night, any seer can look with relative ease into the far future, down multiple timelines, examining subtle ripples of possibility. The rest of the time, most seers can't use their abilities on that level, but a particularly adept one can get closer. What makes one seer more adept than another? Well, it's really just training. If you're someone who, for whatever reason, keeps looking into the future, over time you'll get better at it, just like anything you keep doing. This is what sets Clearsight apart from her peers. She isn't more blessed by the moons than them, because no seer is more blessed by the moons than any other. Clearsight just looks into the future all the time, to a degree nobody else does. She works harder on her visions than any other seer, so her abilities are more advanced than those of any other seer.

There is one exception to the maxim "no seer is more blessed by the moons than any other". The special gift of the thrice-moonborn is that they are exempt from the cyclical waning and waxing of power with the phases of the moons. They hatch on the brightest night, and its power soaks into them and becomes permanently part of them. And so, they live as if every night is a brightest night. They always have the potential to see the ripples that spread into many distant futures, and they can always pluck any information they want out of another dragon's mind. What other Nightwings may train and train for, these dragons do as easily as they breathe.

There are few Nightwings who never dreamed as dragonets about what it would be like to have hatched under three full moons. How different their lives could have been from those of the common powerless Nightwing, or even ordinary seers and mind readers! And not just directly because of what they could see: the thrice-moonborn are almost inevitably beloved by their tribe, showered with attention, and elevated to the highest strata of society. Wouldn't that be nice, think the dragons who could have walked that path but for something as meaningless as the sky under which they hatched.

It's unsurprising that many covet that life, but it's not entirely as pleasant as they imagine. The adulation that surrounds the most powerful Nightwings is instrumental. As laid out in excruciating detail just behind the eyes of smiling dragons, few love them for who they are; many more love them for what they are. They will never have any interaction with friends or family that isn't fundamentally shaped by the asymmetrical power dynamic implied by their abilities. It's easy for a dragon in that situation to become profoundly isolated, especially without support. But the brightest night comes so rarely that most Nightwings who receive its gift will grow up with neither peers, nor mentors who can relate to these experiences. That many ultimately respond in unhealthy, self-destructive ways is a given; that the self-destruction of such powerful dragons often also destroys those around them is a recurring tragedy in the history of the tribe.

But it's not inevitable. No dragon's fate is actually written in the stars or sealed by the moons. It's always possible to choose a different future.

[veronicaleighauthor]

Embracing My Inner Marian Brook

SPOILER ALERT!!!

First of all, Praise Jesus, we’re getting a Season 3 for “The Gilded Age!”

::WARNING:: ::THIS IS A LONG RAMBLING POST::

::sighs::

I can’t believe Season 2 of “The Gilded Age” is over. Why did we get nine episodes in Season 1, but only eight in Season 2?!?!?! Not that another episode would have been enough for me. The costumes, the snobbery, the grandeur, the upstairs/downstairs relations – I love it all. It may even surpass my love for “Downton Abbey.” I think it’s because I’m American and this is based in America, and we just don’t have the period dramas that Britain has. We had “Mercy Street” for only two seasons – I’m still not over the cancelation of that show. Anyway, I can easily get lost in the show’s world, even though my ancestors of that era were farmers, laborers, and factory workers in the Midwest. There’s a derogatory comment made in Season 1, that in the past, Bertha Russell dug her own potatoes before she married George and they made their fortune. My people would be closer to that than anyone else on the show.

Last season, I was really drawn to Peggy Scott’s character. I still adore her, but during my rewatch of season one and watching this season, I’ve realized something. My personality is closer to Marian Brook’s. According to a Myer-Brigg’s personality test, I’m an INFJ-T and though I’ve searched around on line, I found only one site that claimed Marian was an INFP. We’re not twins, but I really feel I’m closer to her in personality than I am with any other character on the show. Except maybe Gladys Russell. I might be similar to Gladys…Poor girl.

We’re introduced to Marian Brook in Season 1 when her father dies and she learns she’s left with nothing. Her world is turned upside down. She receives a letter from her Aunt Ada in New York; it contains a train ticket and encouragement to come live with her and her older sister, Agnes van Rhijn. Marian accepts, arrives in the city with Peggy Scott who helps her on the journey, and she is thrust into New York society. Since Agnes married into an Old Money family, Marian is considered part of that family by connection. She makes friends with the Russell siblings across the street, who are New Money! She is also friendly with Mrs. Chamberlain, who broke the rules and is ostracized. ::gasps:: As she navigates society, an attorney friend from her hometown in Pennsylvania, Tom Raikes (who lives up to his surname) shows up and much to Agnes’ disapproval, he pursues Marian. She is persuaded to believe she is in love, and maybe in a sense she was. Maybe it was a first love kind of thing. The audience, and Aunt Agnes especially, knows something isn’t quite right. Tom proposes, Marian accepts, and an elopement is planned and attempted…Well, Marian follows through with the plan, Tom fails to show up and later dares to show his face at Mrs. Russell’s ball. ::boo, hiss, boo:: Marian is brokenhearted, but she’s young and resourceful, she will heal.

Season 2 opens and as the Opera War is being waged, we discover that Tom Raikes is newly married and though Marian is a little affected, she is moving on. She has taken a position teaching water colors painting at a school. ::gasps:: Aunt Agnes is horrified. No one from an Old Money family works. It’s not done, it’s not genteel. While Marian loves her life in New York and the society she belongs to, she finds purpose in teaching her class. It eventually involves into teaching other pupils how to read and write. Just when she finds her place in the world, a cousin of hers (or is it a nephew) by marriage, Dashiell Montgomery arrives on the scene. Newly widowed and the father of a daughter, he soon sets his sights on Marian as a prospective second wife. Marian appreciates his company and likes him and his daughter (despite them insulting her by saying “she’s not a real teacher” and making an off-handed comment that the poor people can wait to learn to read, her attendance at this fancy gathering is necessary). Dashiell is…not a bad man, and in Aunt Agnes’ eyes, he’s a good catch. I have a hard time getting past the Tsar Nicholas II beard that he sports (I swear, whenever he was on the scene, all I could think of was Tsar Nicholas II). But when he puts Marian on the spot by proposing to her in public, to be kind and show compassion to his daughter who desires the match, she accepts…

When the van Rhijn’s encounter financial troubles, I feared Marian would be pressured to continue with the engagement. Thankfully, she waited for a private moment to part ways with him. Aunt Agnes reminds Marian she must be careful – her reputation has taken two hits, society won’t accept a third. But she is free. Free to teach, to help with social causes, to perhaps find love with the Russell boy.

The internet seems divided about Marian’s personality type. One site claims she is a INFP and that’s close to what I am. In my recent binges of the show, I have seen parallels between our personalities. She seems more traditional at first, relying first upon her father and then Aunt Agnes for support. She and Peggy Scott befriend and support one another, yet it is not without some troubles. Though Marian believes all people are created equal and treats them as such, she originally thinks Peggy is poor and calls on her at the Scott family home bringing a “charity bag.” Thankfully their falling out only lasts an episode or two. We are horrified when she misses the racism Peggy faces at a shop she likes to buy from. A well-meaning person, she misjudges Tom Raikes. The audience can see he’s more in love with New York society than he is Marian herself. This nearly leads her into scandal. When Dashiell obviously begins to pursue her, rather than bluntly dissuade him, she permits his attentions because he does some kind things and he’s closely connected to her aunts. For me, that one hits close to home. Marian is nice, but when compared with the more dynamic Bertha Russell or force of nature Agnes van Rhijn, she doesn’t stand out.

A Collider article criticizes her for being the “least interesting character.” I initially overlooked her too. Maybe it was my acceptance of that I’m closer to Fanny Price of “Mansfield Park” than say Elizabeth Bennet of “Pride and Prejudice,” encouraged me to give Marian Brook of “The Gilded Age” a second look. Marian is more introverted; she often has her nose in complicated books like Henry James’ “The Portrait of a Lady” and she doesn’t make waves until she really has to. She enjoys fashion and pretty things, wishing for a fancy fan, that Bertha later gifts her. When pressed, she will stand her ground and fight for herself and others. The criticisms she’s received from articles and online comments, reminds me of the criticisms I received over the years. That I was too shy, not outgoing enough, that I rarely talked, that I could be a Miss Priss. I don’t always have the best judgment about people and I can be swayed into doing what others wish. I prefer to handle things privately.

You know what, there’s nothing wrong with being shy, introverted, reserved, traditional, etc, etc. Shy girls deserve a place in the narrative too. Marian Brook is this “least interesting” girl’s favorite character. I can’t wait to see what Season 3 has in store for her. ::sighs:: 2024 is going to be a long year.

Who is your favorite character from “The Gilded Age?”

[sleepyhollands]

important

hi my loves. as many of you know, i’ve been sleepyhollands on tumblr since 2020. since then, i’ve written fanfiction about tom holland and co., peter parker, and harry styles. most recently (and i say this loosely because this was a year ago) i posted a demon!harry blurb that received a lot of attention, and i announced it would become a mini-series. however, after much deliberation, i’ve decided against moving forward with writing on tumblr altogether.

i didn’t come to this decision lightly, because i feel like i have so much left to create, and the fanfiction community i run in has been so lovely and supportive of me over the years. i also feel guilt over letting go of a project i promised to complete. but at the end of the day, i know this is the right choice for me.

there’s a few reasons. for starters, i feel as though my life is really fast-paced at the moment (and for the foreseeable future), and i don’t quite have time to write in day to day life. for a couple years now, every time i’ve sat down to start writing, it’s felt like a chore. for the demon!harry mini-series, i wrote (i kid you not) at least 20 drafts of the first chapter, which is why i kept promising the release “soon,” but it never came. it felt so forced each time i read it back, and once i realized i had fallen out of love with writing, i knew i would never end up finishing the series. so i figured it would be best to not start it at all for the sake of saving everyone from a story they would never know the end of.

additionally, i’ve lost interest in the people i’ve written about. that’s not to say i don’t love them as people/characters and won’t continue to support them in their careers, i just don’t feel motivated to create or consume content about them anymore. again, it feels more like something i have to do rather than something i want to do, and that’s no fun for anyone.

finally, and i truly hate to say this… i’ve honestly come to dislike what reading and writing fanfiction has come to. now, i’d like to make it very clear that i am not attacking any creators either on tumblr, wattpad, or ao3. i love all my mutuals and the writers i consume content from. that being said, this new culture of “social media alternate universes,” “text message alternate universes,” and my least favorite: capitalizing on fanfiction through patreon or other related sites has just made me less and less inclined to engage in the fanfiction community.

our generation is so phone/social media-oriented that it’s made its way into the content i’d prefer to just read. and if that’s your cup of tea, that’s totally fine! consume whatever content you enjoy, seriously. but i don’t get fulfillment from reading make-believe text threads or instagram posts, and i’m noticing it more and more, to the point where blocking tags such as “#smau” just isn’t cutting it anymore.

and the patreon thing…. listen, i get that we live in a world where people are just trying to make money in any way they can. i’m not judging in the slightest. it’s hard out here, i understand. that being said, the beauty and allure of fanfiction to me is that it’s free— it’s pure and accessible to everyone. and i’ve found that i’m simply not willing to spend money on a non-essential product i used to be able to consume free of cost. i mean that in the least petty way possible, truly. i’m not calling it immoral, or a scam, or unfair for creators to earn money for their work. i just miss when everything around me wasn’t subscription based, and now that even fanfiction can cost money, i’ve developed a bit of an aversion to it.

(as a quick, unrelated side note, i’d like to mention that the fanfiction circles i’m in are all hyper-fixating on tropes i’m really not into, such as heavy bdsm-centered content, major age gaps, dad’s best friend, best friend’s dad, etc., and this is making it hard to continue engaging with them and their content. while i will always love and support the writers on this site, i want to avoid coming across this content entirely.)

all of this to say, i’m not sure if i’ll keep this account. i’m not planning on leaving tumblr, but i’m heavily debating deleting this account and creating a new one for a fresh start. that, or i’ll leave this up and move to a new account. i’m not sure yet. in any case, i’ll try to make sure there’s a place you can go to access my writing if you choose to come back for a re-read.

i want to thank everyone for being so kind to me over the years, and i’m sorry if i’ve disappointed anyone with this information. i’ll be tagging people from my taglist, and those who mentioned they wanted to be tagged in the demon!harry mini-series below. much love. 🤍

@callsign-scully @lnmp89 @keepdrivingkisses @tenaciousperfectionunknown @landosangel @tom-hlover @voguesir @iadoresleep @lmaotshollandd @starkscosmos @st-ev-ie @axelinchen @pleasinghellfire @kimmi-kat @mopeymousey @coolhotsexygemini10 @harrys-cherrry @vamprry @sunflowervol18 @lillefroe @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @bbontenswhhore