#I wish I could have done better but I'm all drawn out after this

[pixelatedraindrops]

Happy Birthday Yuma! ☔️💜💧

Yuma Month: Day 22: Birthday 🎂

I wasn’t quite sure what to draw for his birthday. I thought of doing something similar to my birthday art for Makoto where I drew 2 different versions of him together.

So here’s the two yumas and the two shinigamis (before and after) I hope this is enough ;w;

Normal pic in case this one is too eye-straining

[reiderwriter]

can i request for a mean!spencer x bau!reader? like they are not enemies but there's just this really intense sexual tension with prompts 2, 30, 48, and 49? thank you!

#2 "I wouldn't fuck you if you were the last person on earth.” #30 "You're not as hot as you think you are.” #48 "You belonged to me before I even made you mine.” #49 "I'm so fucking obsessed with you.”

A/N: Thank you for requesting! Sorry it took almost an entire season to get it done 😭 I hope it's as good as you expected it would be :D

Warnings: slight BDSM themes, Dom!Spencer, dry humping, choking, thigh riding, finger sucking, cum play, facial, penetrative sex, use of contraception, probably more that I don't remember right now... 18+ Minors DNI

There was no one you wanted to spend the night with less than Spencer Reid.

He was annoying, and frustrating and most importantly never knew when to shut the fuck up.

No one was better at getting under your skin, and no one seemed to relish it quite like he did. It wasn't that you hated the man, just that he had the presence of an unkillable mosquito in your life.

He was irritating.

“Y/N, are you even listening to me?”

“I try not to make a habit of it,” you rolled your eyes, pushing past the man as you both finally made it to your motel room for the night.

You weren't sure if this was divine punishment or Emily's idea of a joke, but you'd ended up with Reid as your roomie for the next week.

As your case location was remote and as back waters as it could get, you'd ended up needing to bring Penelope Garcia along with you physically. And with only four rooms available, the eight members of your team had to all scramble for acceptable roommates and, having gotten off the jet last, you'd drawn the short straw.

Rossi had been quick to pair up with Luke, citing Spencer's snoring habit as reason enough, and the girls had happily fallen into two pairs. It was your lucky day.

With your hands busy with your bags, you tossed the key to Spencer quickly and waited for him to unlock the door, eager to escape the cold chill of the night.

“Hurry up, Spencer, or we'll both turn into popsicles out here.”

“Not only is that physically impossible, but it also isn't that cold out here, Y/N. Don't you think you're being a bit sensitive.”

You stuck your tongue out at him and he let out a sharp chuckle as he finally managed to unlock the door.

Despite your best wishes, stepping over the threshold didn't solve your problems. Instead it seemed to present even more.

“Fuck, how is it colder in here than it is out there?” You said, shivering violently as you stood in the doorway. If you thought that was reason enough to cure though, you thought you'd practically spit fire when you saw the sleeping arrangements for the night.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Your body forgot its fight to keep warm, letting your blood run cold as you found yourself face to face with one singular, though large, bed. Another cursory glance around, and the heart motifs on the walls and pink themes cushions on the bed suggested that this was likely the motels joke of a Honeymoon Suite.

“Emily did mention that we booked out their last four rooms.” Spencer said, walking up beside you and frowning deeply as he took in the same scene you did.

“She said nothing about the rooms being igloos though, Spencer. I never thought hypothermia was going to be my cause of death after spending the night with you in the room.”

“You think I'd shoot you.”

“I think I'd shoot myself.”

He scowled a little at that and moved to check the room's thermostat. Although it was presently reading 215° so you didn't know how much good that could do.

“There's no sofa,” you grumbled as you watched Spencer move to the small bathroom.

“And there's no hot water. And according to the sign on that table, there's nothing we can do about it until the morning.” You picked up the sign yourself, just to verify and practically moaned in frustration.

“This is insane, we'll freeze to death.”

“It has to drop below 32° in here for us to even possibly freeze death. There's no wind, rain and we have blankets, so maybe you should focus less on being dramatic and more on what we can be doing to warm up.”

“I'm sorry, Doctor Genius, whatever can I do to warm up? Please impart some of your wonderful knowledge on me, I beg.” His eyes flashed with some annoyance and you quietly enjoyed the expression, happy to have affected him as much as he affected you.

“You can start by stripping.” It was his turn to enjoy the abject look of horror that crossed your face in that moment, and you were convinced that of he let even a hint of a laugh out, you'd throttle the man.

“I'm sure you'd just love that,” you grumbled, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Well, there's no water, no thermostat and no other source of heat, so if you're so worried about hypothermia, there's only one solution viable to us right now.”

“You're joking. You want us to huddle together for warmth?” You backed yourself into a corner as you tried to distanced yourself from him as he suddenly began divesting himself of clothing.

As soon as he reached the top buttons of his shirt, you let out a quick squeak and turned around.

“Unless you want me to watch you get undressed too, I suggest you hurry up and do it before I get into bed.”

You quietly cursed and started unwrapping each of your layers, fingers fumbling with the cold already seeped into your skin.

“I am not getting naked, Spencer Reid.”

“I didn't ask you to. Just get comfortable.” You turned around to shoot him a glare, but when you noticed his back was turned - and bare - you lost all memory of the purpose of the movement.

You'd never quite realised before how broad his back was. His shoulders looked strong despite his lithe frame, twisting rather attractively as he pulled his nightshirt over his head. You were almost disappointed that he wasn't facing you, suddenly curious about Spencer Reid's happy trail.

You snapped yourself out of it and continued to change, wrapping your coat around your waist to hide your legs as you switched your pants to your sleep shorts. It was an awkward fumble, but at least the lights were low.

When you were finally ready, your steps back to the bed were hurried and near painful as you felt colder than ever.

Spencer was already there, and without a second thought, you pulled the quilts up and plastered yourself to his side. He was the only thing in the entire room offering you a modicum of warmth, and you weren't going to let your personal hot water bottle go just because everything that came out of his mouth was hot air.

“So you're a big fan of this now, huh?” He said, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you in. Your back was pressed against his chest as you both laid on your sides, piles of duvet and blankets laid out on top of you. You hated to admit it, but this position was comfortable.

Maybe it was just months of working cases non-stop and perpetual singleness, but the feeling of a man at your back was infinitely pleasing.

“Don't expect anything more Spencer Reid. I wouldn't have sex with you if you were the last man alive.” The words were harsh, and if you were being honest, a little bit untrue. Your small peak at his back earlier had definitely sparked an interest in you that was bubbling up in your throat. Like bile.

“You don't have to worry about that. You're actually not as hot as you think you are.” His words were tinged with the same faux bitterness as yours, but you refused to hear it. Instead all you felt was another unpleasant heat spreading throughout you, quiet anger plotting in your stomach.

You knew you probably shouldn't push it, but you needed Spencer to eat those words. Desperately.

Your mind ticked through a few options before landing on one. If you were so unattractive, then surely there's no way he'd physically react to you.

Scooting your body closer to his, you take advantage of the less than comfortable bed, making each of your movements similar to ones you would make when getting comfortable. Except, of course, with the added bonus of making sure your ass pressed directly up against his crotch, moving up and down and grinding into him.

You felt him slightly stiffen behind you, and decided that a few we'll time groans of frustration could go a long way to spurring him on.

So you began letting little gasps and sighs out, graduating to moans when you thought he wouldn't question it, each small movement rubbing against him deliberately.

What you'd failed to remember though, was his hand on your waist. Although you knew he was awake beside you, despite the now late hour and somewhat comfortable bed, his hand held you firm. Or it did until you risking bounced yourself gently against him, and his now limp hand slipped underneath your shirt.

The moan you released then was genuine, the cool touch of his fingers against your burning skin causing you to flush and shiver at the same time. You cursed your earlier self for valuing your comfort over your general peace of mind, because as Spencer's hand once again settles centimetres away from the edge of your boob, you desperately wished for your bra back.

You stopped moving, hoping that if you just pretended to sleep for a few minutes, his hand would reach higher and he'd prove to you that he did think you were attractive. He didn't though, showing off how gentlemanly he was. It pissed you off. Most of his good qualities pissed you off, and you were sure that said more about you than him .

You tried your best to just give in, to even out your breathing and let the black haze of sleep take over but his hands on you were maddening, and you found your body reacting in much the same ways you'd wished him to react.

It didn't help that he'd casually shifted his lower body away from you slightly in your stillness, letting himself fall onto his back rather than his side. As he made this shift, his hand trailed across the expanse of your body before cutting all contact with you altogether.

So much for huddling for warmth if all he had to do to return you to record heats was stroke you like that.

You needed to feel him again, so, feigning the most realistic sleeplike movements you could muster, you turned your body in his direction, and placed your head over his chest. You weren't finished, just proceeding with caution. Your hands obviously fell over his chest, if slightly lower than you'd expect.

It was only when your leg finally came up over his that he broke his silence.

“I know you're awake, Y/N,” he whispered in your ear, a solid hand on your thigh holding it down right over his crotch. You felt your prize and grinned in your sleep.

He was hard. You'd won. It was time to play.

You opened your mouth to purr victoriously at him, but he moved so abruptly you were never expecting it.

Shifting his hands to your ass, he hauled your body over him, letting his hands stay on your hips as he began to help you shift them back and forth. You moaned at the friction, even as your head stayed rested on his chest. The movements were shallow, just a teasing but you already felt more aroused than you had in months. Slowly, your hips started moving for themselves and his hands moved onto more important things.

“Am I suddenly the last man on Earth, Y/N?” He smiled, tipping your head up so you could make eye contact with him.

“Go to hell.”

“I think we're already there, don't you?” With that, his large hands sat you up, meeting with no resistance as you let yourself become pliable.

“Show me.” He whispered, hands right on your hips, pushing into your flesh just a touch part forceful.

“Show you what?” You narrowed your eyes, but you knew exactly what it was he wanted and that you weren't going to out up much a resistance before giving it to him.

“Show me how much you want to fuck me. Since your mouth isn't honest, I'm going to have to listen to your body.” You let your hands fall to his chest, pushing lower until you reached the hem of his shirt. He'd pushed the quilts off of your torso, letting the cold air attack your upper body, so you knew your hands were cold, and the hiss he let out at the contact was satisfying enough to shut up and actually start following his directions.

You shifted your body up and down, grinding and dry humping his crotch, wishing for him to stop being a tease and just get it over with.

He wasn't letting you compromise, though. Each small sound that left your body met with a soft smirk from him, each halt in your movements a prod from his hands. You'd tried to still your hips entirely once out of frustration, but he'd delivered a slap to your ass that had you gushing, desperate to reach a release even if he'd only allow you it this way.

“I don't think you're trying hard enough.” His voice was lower than before, something gravelly to it as he began pulling your clothing off one item at a time. Your sweater went first, before he flipped your positions and shimmered your shorts off your body, taking underwear soon after and then you were bare to him and he was rolling you once again.

“That's better. Now, where were we?” He moved your hips for you again, but his eyes stayed focused in the rigid peaks of your nipples, bouncing with each rock of your hips. You weren't sure if it was the cold temperature of the room or your sheer need to cum that had them reacting, but you knew he was seconds away from wrapping his tongue around one and giving into you, so you just accepted it.

His hands stayed put, still on your hips, though the direct contact was heating you slightly more. If you looked down, you were sure you'd see a wet patch against his sweat pants, so you didn't.

You just moaned and whimpered searching for your orgasm on top of him.

“What's wrong, Y/N? Do you need my help to finish?” He noticed your every insecurity, your weakness and exploited it. You were running close to inconsolable, desperate to hit that climax now, more than ever before, so you just nodded at him profusely, desperate for him to touch you in whatever way he could.

It wasn't his hand you felt on your clit, though. It was your own, he wrapped a hand around your fingers and bought them up to the correct stop, showing you exactly what he'd like to see.

“Touch yourself, Y/N. Touch yourself and wish it was me.” With the friction from grinding against him for so long, the satisfaction from the rigid tent underneath you and your hands taking his guidance, it was really not long before your pussy finally twitched familiarly and sighed, soaking his pants underneath you as you shuddered in delight.

He had to ruin your moment of bliss by talking.

“Is that enough, slut? Or do you really need to be filled right now?”

You didn't care if he saw you sticking your tongue down his throat as you collapsed on top of his chest as an answer to that question, or if he saw it as what it was - a desperate attempt to shut him up. All you knew was that he tasted sweet and hot, and that his hand wrapped around your throat was also hot as he pulled you up and off of him.

“Let me be clear. I am in charge.” A simple shift of his legs was enough to flip your positions, landing on top of you ungrateful, but you didn't care.

Using his new high ground, he wedged your legs open and slid a single finger inside you as you moaned. He too found success in silencing you by sticking his tongue down your throat, forcing you to battle him for dominance you knew he'd never allow you.

Having cum only moments before, you truly believed that there was no way he was going to push another one out of you after so little time. The night was full of surprises though.

As you relaxed into his intrusion, he opened you up with a second finger, then a third. You already felt yourself building towards your end goal, but it was his head dropping to tour cold nipples that finally had you cumming around his fingers. His mouth was wet, tongue warm against your skin, and he toyed with you so effectively, you practically forgot your previous qualms.

“See? You belong to me before I've even made you mine.” It irked you that he was right. Had this been any other man, you're sure you'd be bragging about such passionate sex for weeks with your friends. You were resentful that it was him, but you didn't want it to end yet.

Your arms pulled up to hide your face as he traced kisses up and down your chest, fingers coming free to pay attention to your since abandoned nipples.

“I can't wait to fuck you. You're going to feel so good wrapped around my cock,” he whispered into your ear as he pulled your arms away from your face, making sure your eyes were focused on him before his next line.

“You have no clue what you started. I'm so fucking obsessed with you.”

His hands fell to your face, where his thumb pushed against your lips, slipping into your mouth where you sucked on it, getting it wet as his cock teased the folds of your pussy, running up and down with each gentle push of his hips. You entertained him for a moment before pushing up slightly, his thumb falling from your mouth as you blindly reached for the bedside table. Pulling it open, you were relieved to find what you were looking for.

“If you're so fucking obsessed with me, Spencer, show me.” Carefully unwrapping the package, you grabbed his dick and gently slid the condom onto him, making sure it was secure before you propped yourself back on the pillows, waiting for him to initiate once again.

“Pillow princess. You're acting like I haven't been dreaming of exactly this for the last 12 months.”

You couldn't waste time processing those words before he again ran his cock through the folds of your pussy, then sank himself deep inside you. And you meant deep.

The sudden impact robbed you of your thoughts, pushing out every miserable thought and leaving you with just Spencer and pleasure. The two concepts soon became synonymous as his hips lazily sent him careening in and out of you.

His strokes gained speed gradually until the only words shared between you were the animalistic pants of pleasure, his voice driving you insane as you tried not to get overstimulated before you could cum for a third time.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit, Spencer-” your moans turned to screams as your orgasm rolled over you, his dick hitting just the right spot inside you that forced your nails to bite his skin, and forced your voice to scratch at your throat as it pushed up from your gut.

Noticing your relentless twitching, Spencer immediately pulled out of your cunt, allowing you a moment of reprieve. Pushing up to his knees, he moved to your side, his crotch parallel with your face as he rolled the condom off his dick.

Stroking himself to completion, he came right over your lips, your eyes dripping with lust as you licked them clean, catching the dribbles that fell down your chin with your fingers and popping them into your mouth as well.

After your whorish display of desperation, it took a full ten minutes for your brain function to resume.

In that time, Spencer had cleaned both of you up speedily with a hotel towel, wrapped an arm around you and began spooning you once again, his chest warm and comfortable against your back, his scent intoxicating.

It didn't stop being so when you finally came down from your post-cum bliss.

“You're not allowed to tell anyone what happened tonight,” you said, turning over to look him in the eye.

“Nothing from tonight, got it. What about tomorrow?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, am I allowed to tell them how I plan to wake you up tomorrow, and how your current state of dress made it possible, if not directly invited it?”

You flushed at his words, tingling already at the mention of tomorrow.

“We're sharing a room, Y/N. If you think I'm not going to be inside you whenever were both free, you're entirely mistaken.” His voice was clear - not even a hint of hesitancy in his voice.

“I'm not letting you go that easily, Y/N.”

[footballffbarbiex]

Repeat After Me.

Okay I'm breaking the norm a little bit here, but I've wanted to do something nice for my doll @mvybanks for a while and tonight feels like a good time to do it.

If this is awful, lets just pretend I never posted it while I fake my own death, flee the country and we'll all just move on yeah?

There's probably mistakes as it's not been BETA'd but I'll die on my typo hill and that's that.

_

“Stop it,” your boyfriend’s voice pulls you from your thoughts but it’s the tone of it which makes you instinctively turn your head to look at him. It’s soft yet commanding. 

He’s sat propped up by a small pile of plush cushions behind him on the couch. One knee is drawn up to enable him to rest his book against his thigh while his arm is extended and rests over the knee. His beanie is pulled down, allowing a few unruly curls to flick out from beneath it. His tongue flicks a toothpick from side to side between his lips. 

He’s not even looking at you and for a moment or two, you’re both sitting in silence with you beginning to wonder if you had imagined him speaking. Furrowing your brow, you begin to bring your attention back to your phone but not before you catch his face turning ever so slightly to look your way. 

“I mean it.” He says. 

“I’m not doing anything.”

“You’re getting in your head again. Stop it.”

The temptation to huff and deny it is overwhelming but the last time you’d done this, he’d reprimanded you for not using your words to express how you were feeling and insisted on spending as long as it took between the sheets until you were capable of both saying how you felt and losing every thought that could form. In a way, some part of you wished that he’d take you back to bed and made it so that you didn’t have to think. Didn’t have to do anything other than be made to feel incredible and reciprocate it. 

“Do I need to come over there?” He asks, folding the corner of the page and closes it, ignoring the way you wince at the action. You’d left enough notes scribbled over pages of books while taking notes for your course to become desensitised by this, but to see it creased? That was something else. 

“Why? So that you can give me an up close and personal talk about how stressing over my answers now won’t change the result and I’m moping around for nothing?”

JJ discards the book and climbs from the couch, not stopping his movements until he’s not only in front of you but pushing your knees apart and covering your body with his own. His nose rubs against yours lightly, lips brushing over the curve of your own. “Are you going to stop?”

“No.” You say stubbornly. 

“No?” He repeats, eyebrow arching as he adjusts his weight to get into a better position. 

“No.” 

“Oh baby, what am I going to do with you?” he asks, more to himself than needing a reply from you. 

You open your mouth to give him one regardless but before you can do so, his lips are back on yours. He starts off soft, light kisses pressed to your lips, slowly building you up until your mouth parts and his tongue meets yours. Even then, he takes his time being ever so careful not to rush it. 

One hand clutches at his clothing, while the other one snakes up between his shoulder blades until your fingertips reach his beanie. It’s tugged from his head, only so that you can fill your hand with the softness of his hair. When JJ nibbles at your bottom lip, you give his hair a quick tug and feel the way he bucks his hips to yours. 

“Tell me you’ll stop stressing.” he mutters, barely allowing his lips to leave yours to form the words. 

“I’ll try.” You reply hurriedly. 

“No, I want you to say it.” He instructs, breaking the kiss to look down at you. There’s nothing he likes more than seeing you all flustered, with enlarged pupils and slightly swollen lips from kissing.

“Don’t play JJ. I thought you wanted to help.” Your tone is almost whiny. It should make you feel ashamed but you’re not. 

“I’m trying to. So,” He begins, hips grinding against you in a circular motion while his fingers stroke over your heated cheeks. His thumb traces over where his lips were only moments ago before dipping beneath your jaw and over as much of your throat as he can reach. “Repeat after me, I’ll stop stressing.”

“I’ll stop stressing.” you say obediently, swallowing hard when he smirks down at you.

“I’ll stop thinking about what I could have done better.”

When you groan with frustration at what he’s asking you to do. “Do I ha-”

“Yes. Unless you want me to stop?” He teases, dipping his head to your neck and you feel his mouth connect with your skin. Soft lips dragging over your pulse point, peppering the area with kisses, trailing them down to your shoulder where he playfully nips at the skin - knowing how shy you get about the idea of having a hickey in such a visible place.  

“I’ll stop thinking about what I could have done better.” You repeat and feel the way his teeth bare against you as he grins. 

“That’s my girl.”

[genevawren38]

I have a few things to say about Quackity's stream and the QSMP as a whole.

If you haven't watched the stream, please do so here, I refuse to paraphrase and believe it should be watched in its entirety to form your own opinions. [Here is the YouTube link]

First of all; I don't think any of the actions Quackity took were deliberately malicious. I believe, in my opinion, he got swept up in the excitement and hype surrounding this new project, and we all know how easily that can happen. It's so easy to ignore the small things when you are being showered in positivity.

I think the project got far bigger than he thought which opens up everything to a lot of criticism.

But he does not deserve to feel unsafe, nor is it any sort of appropriate to send him death threats under any circumstances. Nor to anyone, that is a line we should not cross.

Please, for the love of everything, remember this is one of the biggest projects he has ever attempted. Balancing management, his real life, and his public figure status must be incredibly stressful, and you can only do that for so long until things start to go unnoticed. Someone spread so thin is bound to crack, and unfortunately, I think that's what happened with the administration. He's an incredibly busy guy, and to expect him to be so hands-on with the project while keeping up with the rest of his life and future prospects is an inhumane task to keep up with.

Yes, I absolutely agree that healthy amounts of criticism are necessary in something as groundbreaking as this. But under no circumstances *ever* does that become something you can threaten another's safety over.

I also agree he should have said something and apologized to the previous admins who were brave enough to share their story. But I also can agree with the fact this might have been better done privately, at least as much as possible, because the moment you get the public involved someone malicious is going to rip their words apart to use in whatever fashion they wish.

But it's hard to be truly objective and honest when every word you ever say online could be misconstrued and twisted to suit another's fancy.

I think that's where most of the issue lies, at least to me. There are systems in place when handled in a law environment to protect those affected. The moment anything goes public, it's free game for someone to use as they wish.

I think in certain situations, getting the public involved in the good fight is a sound decision, for a group of people are louder than one individual. But it can also grow wildly out of control if not handled properly, and for a delicate situation like this, I think it's only drawn the whole situation out to a painful amount.

I dislike the fact that a lot of my passion has disappeared for the server because this server is full of people whose content I enjoyed previously and some I've only now discovered.

But, I still do believe it's possible for us to hold hope. I have to hold onto that because if there truly is a way for this to turn around it can serve as an example it's possible to recover and put your best foot forward.

I think there's been mistakes all around, blown wildly out of proportion, but I do still want to give this place a chance.

Because what an example it could become if solutions can be found that helps all the parties and the fandom affected by this all.

That's all. Again, this is just my opinion, and I want to discuss it if people want to talk about it reasonably.

Please form your own thoughts after watching the stream, and try to keep an open mind. I understand this might drive a lot of people away, but I believe in the heart of what QSMP is.

This server and community are meant to unite people from across the world. Let's give it a chance to continue to do so, eh?

Edit for some clarification ;

I do not blame the admins for doing what they had to. I'm proud of the brave actions they took facing such a massive community head-on.

I just wish it all could have gone down differently, but we can't change the past, only hope for a better future.

[Here is a transcript of the stream from Twitter, please watch the stream as a priority though]

Edit 2: adding this too

[things-arent-what-they-seem66]

The Devil and The Duck

Duck Adam Au

When Adam first realized that he was a duck after waking up in Hell, he was fucking pissed. What kind of bull shit was this?

It took him a while to get around to a pond in a park and realize that maybe it wasn't so bad. No one knew it was him, he could just swim all day, and eat what people gave him. The other ducks didn't seem to mind him.

Then one day Lucifer showed up, he was feeding the ducks when he noticed this yellow one with black and golden little horns. He was bigger than the other ducks. Lucifer didn't know why, but he was drawn to that duck.

Adam was surprised when the King picked him up one day and started taking him to the hotel. "You're so cute, would you like to be our pet duck?"

"Pet!?" Adam said, but the devil only heard a quack as a response and took it as a positive answer.

That was months ago, everyone at the hotel has voted on making Adam their mascot and named him Grumpy die to his demeanor.

You'd be fucking grumpy too in his situation.

Angel and everyone bought him outfits to dress him up in, Adam really loved the sunglasses he had. He looked bitchin.

Everyone loved him as a duck, well, Alastor that fucking asshole tried to eat him from time to time but Adam always got away or was rescued at the last minute.

There were times where Adam would perch himself on Lucifer's hat or he would sleep in the King's hair. It was surprisingly soft and smelled really nice.

Currently he was sharing a slice of pizza with Lucifer, being a duck meant he could only eat so much.

"Dad, should he be eating that?" Charlie asked, she wasn't an expert in ducks but she didn't think they should eat pizza.

Lucifer brushed the comment off. "It's fine Char, he's mainly getting the crust, sauce and a little cheese. No harm done!" Charlie didn't seem so sure. "If it makes him sick I'll take care of it I promise."

"Piss off girlie let me enjoy this." Adam said as he nibbled the pizza, not having to worry about what he said cause no one can understand him was nice. "Let me eat pizza."

Lucifer smiled and patted his feathers which Adam found he oddly liked. "See he likes it." Lucifer picked Adam up and walked back up to his room, Adam, or as Lucifer knew, Grumpy had his own special pillow in Lucifer's room.

Adam settled into his pillow and quacked happily. This was better than the pond.

Adam always knew that Lilith was crazy.

Lucifer changed and crawled into bed. He was looking at the ceiling. "I really miss him Grumpy." So it was one of those nights. Lucifer would tell Grumpy about how much he missed Adam and how he wished he could have saved him and how he was his first love back in Eden and why he chose Lilith was because she threatened to kill Adam. How Lucifer looked out for both his boys when they died and came to Hell.

And so many more things that made Adams heart swell.

Grumpy quacked at him, as if listening. "I hope wherever his soul ended up that it's at peace. He deserves it. I just wish I could have told him how much I love him." Lucifer said sadly, he knew what happened to souls like that. He didn't like to think about it.

He looked at Grumpy who seemed to be watching him. "I'm glad I found you Grumpy. You remind me of him."

Gee I wonder why that is, Adam thought.

Lucifer sighed. "Good night, my Grumpy duck. Sweet dreams." Lucifer leaned over and placed a little kiss on Grumpys beak before snuggling into bed.

Adam felt a tingling sensation in his little body. What was wrong with him?

He gasped when a flash of light took him over, Lucifer gave his own noise of surprise. When the light was gone, Lucifer looked on with wide eyes. "Adam?"

He wasn't an angel or a duck anymore, but a sinner with black and gold horns and red and black wings that looked fluffy like a duck.

Lucifer tried not to look down as Adam was butt ass naked.

"What?" Adam asked and he touched his face. He had fingers! He wasn't a duck anymore! "Holy shit!" Embarrassment settled in when he realized how naked he was. He used his wings to hide himself.

"You're alive?! You were Grumpy? Wait." Ooooh Lucifer told that duck so many feelings and secrets. "Adam, I-"

Adam launched himself at Lucifer and kissed him properly on the mouth. "It's okay Luci, I forgive you. Thank you for everything."

Lucifer swore he was gonna cry from how happy he was. Adam was alive and he forgave him. No better gift. He kissed him again and this time the kiss was longer and deeper. "I'm so glad you're okay."

They snuggled under the covers and talked about everything the last few months. They knew they would have to address everyone in the hotel about the situation.

But that could wait until morning.

[bbyobbyo]

To Mingyu, you were perfect. It was no wonder he was drawn to you when his long time best friend and roommate introduced you to him as his partner. Alas, you were perfect but you weren't his.

content: angst, fluff if you squint, suggestive (no actual depictions of sex), unrequited love, pining, gyu is a simp

wc: 729

notes: second attempt hehe, thank you everyone who read my vernon fic! feedback is appreciated, i'm still new here 😔👉👈

Truthfully, there was no better person for you than Wonwoo. Mingyu could at least admit that much. You complimented each other like yin and yang, supporting and uplifting one another in harmony. You were the much needed ray of sunshine and motivation in his life, and he was the structure and inspiration you wanted in yours. Over time your presence became a welcome constant in his life, first by association, then seemingly by necessity.

"She is the best thing to ever happen to me" his roommate would exclaim constantly, and Mingyu couldn't help but agree.

He tried to be happy for his friend, he really did. After all, why wouldn't he want the people he loves to be happy? It wasn't like he didn't want you visiting the apartment constantly, always with a delicious treat to share in hand. Nor did he dislike your genuine attempts to get to know him as a person, asking about his preferences and aspirations in life. In fact, it bothered him more and more that he wished you came over more often, even when his roommate wasn't home.

It was tortuous to hear the sounds in the apartment when you and Wonwoo thought he was asleep. Heavy moans and muted whines haunt his brain on those long nights filled with tossing and turning. The next morning he tries his best to pretend like he didn't see the hickeys littered on your neck just barely covered by your hair when he ran into you making breakfast. And yet, when you ask if he had a good night's sleep with an offer of making an extra serving for him, he doesn't have the heart to tell you the truth. That he spent the entire night wishing it was him in the bed next to you instead.

-

The day the world came crashing down on him was the day Wonwoo had told him about his plan to propose to you. An evening surrounded by his 12 closest friends that you have also come to adore, how perfect. It was so perfect that he didn't even have to think twice when saying yes when Wonwoo asked him to help film the entire affair.

"I trust you over Seokmin any day, that man can't keep a secret for his life. But if you tell her it's for a personal project, she won't suspect a thing!" he chuckles.

"Yeah," Mingyu mumbles back, not quite meeting his friend's eyes, "she won't see it coming."

-

Mingyu thinks he's going insane. There were hundreds, maybe even thousands of photos from tonight and yet he's enamored by this one. You're absolutely dazzling, looking at the camera like you just discovered the lens, eyes turned into crescents and smiling cheek to cheek. How long has he waited for you to smile at him like that? And the first time you do, he's behind a camera. At your fucking wedding reception of all places.

"You like her." His head snaps up from the viewfinder.

"What?"

His older friend snakes a gentle hand on over his shoulder. "You like her, don't you?" Seungcheol repeats, voice barely above a whisper.

Mingyu says nothing, slowly directing his gaze back downwards at the camera, screen stuck on the photo of you he took only a few moments ago. He can't do anything but sigh. Seungcheol's expression softens, giving his younger friend's shoulder a knowing squeeze.

"It gets better."

God, he sure hopes it does.

-

Mingyu's attention fades in and out when you're reading your vows. It's ironic that on one of the happiest days of your life, he finds it impossible to focus on you when it feels like that's all he's done for years. It was a welcome distraction, however. He can't decide what would destroy him more: listening to you profess your love to someone that wasn't him, or knowing that you meant every word. You end your monologue gracefully with a small smile, holding back a sob as the groom begins his.

"You're the best thing to ever happen to me," Wonwoo begins, voice breaking as he bites back his own tears.

In another time, another place, Mingyu would've agreed with him. But in this moment, as you look at his best friend like he's the center of your whole world, Mingyu decides that you might have been the worst thing that's ever happened to him.

[valkyrieandstrangeridingaragorn]

Episode 2 of What If Season 2 poked the Peggy hornet’s nest and did exactly what I thought it would. 

So, for context, in this reality Yondu actually handed Peter Quill over to Ego when he was supposed to, and within just 6 months Ego was able to corrupt his son into a conqueror, so they invade Earth together. Peggy is director of SHIELD at the time, and she and Howard work together to assemble a proto-Avengers team to stop them. The team consists of Hank Pym, Bill Foster, T’Chaka, Thor, Wendy Lawson (who I think is from Captain Marvel), and… wait for it… the Winter Motherfucking Soldier. 

Yes, for real.

And because I know you’re thinking it, the excuse given is that he is in the hands of the Russians during this time, so Peggy and Howard couldn’t possibly have known about it UwU. Anyway, when they see him there’s a super drawn-out moment where they both think they recognize him (and it’s while he still has the mask on, so while this probably wasn’t intentional I actually read that as yet another middle finger to Steve, as Peggy could apparently recognize Bucky even under his disguise while Steve couldn’t). And then, Howard says, I shit you not: “I'd heard the rumors, but even if they’re true, the man we knew is long-gone, Peg, and we have bigger fish to fry.” And then later in the episode, with no segway from that to this, there’s a scene where they’re all together and the Winter Soldier has his mask off, and actually speaks. 

So, at least in this universe, Howard and Peggy are 100% aware that Bucky Barnes is in fact the Winter Soldier. Later on in the episode Howard attempts to get through to him, but only when it becomes a necessity to save the world (because he is about to kill Peter Quill while Hank is trying to convince him to turn on Ego), but it’s still pretty damning. And then at the end of the episode, rather than trying to rehabilitate him, they just let him go. Like, it’s not the same situation as Steve where he was out cold and unable to do anything, they could have taken Bucky in and tried to break his programming, but they didn’t. It’s left ambiguous what will happen to him after that, so it’s not like they sent him back to Hydra, but Hydra is still out there in this universe, so my hopes aren’t high.

TLDR; this episode attempts to handwave away the very strong possibility that the Howard and Peggy of the Prime Timeline knew what was happening to Bucky, but in doing so unintentionally made them look so much worse.

I don't... I can't even... WTF did I just read? (not you of course, I mean, what is wrong with Marvel?) 🤦‍♀️

So they use Bucky while brainwashed and/or still with Hydra's BS in his mind, and they don't even care to help him out after? They see a victim and they use him and then turn away from him, not caring about his well-being? And, I assume, Howard and Lady Brexit are still framed as good guys? And how are they any better than Hydra in that story?! The absolute nerve...

Once I read the spoilers a few days ago and saw they were going to have her as Director of SHIELD, I just knew they were going to absolve her of everything and never have her answer for any of her actions. And of course the only one who says he had "heard rumours" was Howard, not her. She's an angelic glorious being incapable of doing anything wrong. What in the absolute narrative protection is this...

Howard and Miss Brexit couldn't possibly know about Bucky... yeah, right. Except for the fact that they knew what Zola had done, because Steve told them, and they still willingly worked alongside him, even gave him a nickname. Oh Arnie, my beloved, wasn't it fun when you tortured Steve's best friend? Let's have some beer. I don't see how Miss "I shoot innocents when I'm jealous" Brexit could have recognized Bucky considering she didn't give a damn about him after Steve risked his own life against her wishes to save him, but apparently in this she can tell who he is even with a mask on? Damn girl, did you inject the serum in him yourself?

And I'm sorry but what is this... “I'd heard the rumors, but even if they’re true, the man we knew is long gone.” Excuse me? Oh, good enough to use but not good enough to save? How is the everloving hell is that even a line?! Oh my god, Marvel, just say you hate Bucky and go. I don't get it, what, he's the guy who ruins their beloved Steggy nonsense and they can't help themselves, they have to drag him through the mud for daring to be more important to Steve than Miss Brexit here? (And I say that as a non-shipper but holy crap, this is nuts.)

Not even in another timeline are these two somewhat redeemable. And Bucky is fucked up no matter what. Typical.

So the Infinity Saga had Stark as their golden boy and now it's Agent Brexit's time to shine... Will the Hero Cinematic Universe ever provide any heroes of narrative protection or are they going to choose the bad ones only? Oh, you're a soldier kidnapped, tortured and brainwashed? Go ahead and make amends, you monster. Oh, you willingly worked for the TVA and tortured and killed because you wanted to? Poor you, let us frame you as good and pat you on the back, you sweet thing.

Wow, I got mad in this one. Sorry. I have the Bucky feels right now 😜😂

[loveislandthegame]

thoughts on today's volume...i don't even know where to begin, this sucked and i'm honestly just appalled 😭 FB somehow managed to make a reunion worse than boat party

FB is trying way too hard to make season 5 iconic, and it's just not happening. season 5 isn't bad in a camp way, it's just bad. a sensible company would've shelved that misogynistic, biphobic, & racist gaslighting-fest and apologised

and this is a major problem throughout the entire volume so i'll just condense it into one thought right here: whoever wrote this clearly doesn't understand their playerbase. absolutely nobody cares about these unemployed messy flops hooking up with eachother, sexting, cheating—shawn forcing max to sleep in the hotel foyer so he can have mechanic roleplay sex in their shared room ???—and whatever other nonsense they're doing. i was not gagged, i was gagging

i didn't take the diamond scene to upstage sophie or whatever because i don't care, but of course we're still forced to kiss somebody else that's not our partner for the sake of some corny drama. i wish MC could've walked out of this villa the moment liam decided to recommend a "kissing game," like she's not in a whole committed relationship

then we get a podcast challenge i guess . at first i was happy to see theo, only for him to immediately blow MC off because he's ... a little hurt ? even though he was fine in the last volume ? literally everyone except claudia, bea, and tyler was treating MC like garbage this entire reunion. (once again, MC doesn't have any friends . just enemies and people tryna smash)

several drawn out scenes of pure agony later, and my bby girl bella finally showed up !! she's the only saving grace of this pile of shit, and at this point i'm just glad they didn't ruin her too

(RIP to the finn girlies, at least bella & my s6 MC are happily together ❤️)

bea confessed to MC, i still picked claudia . this would've been the perfect moment for an "I love you" from your chosen LI but instead they ask to move in. Lmao

claudia my love, you deserved so much better than this reunion </3

for the first time ever i straight up skipped a group hug option, that's how you know i really was done with these mfs

i cannot find the words that could properly describe how horrible this reunion was. a complete dumpster fire of an ending to an otherwise okay-ish season. to top it all off we have confirmation that season 9 is dropping in three weeks. FB is not even giving season 8 some time to marinate, stew, simmer, or whatever. you get what i mean ? (tbh more like rot...😭)

i need a nap after this. venus out 🫡

[achaotichuman]

This is another fic my lovely friend @lorcandidlucienwill sent me <3

I think @kateprincessofbluewhales made a post about this ages ago that I just remembered. But imagine Feyre wants to be with Tamlin but she is mated with Rhysand and Tamlin feels her slowly drifting away each time she comes back and and and... Part 1 until I come up with more shit.

"Feyre! Feyre, are you alright?" Tamlin rushed to her, needing to touch her, smell her, see her face, just to know that she's alright- "I'm ok," Feyre gasped. She looked at him, and Tamlin scanned her face. No visible wounds, but the worst wounds were often internal. Tamlin knew better than anyone. He still hadn't told her that she wasn't the only one who had been sexually assaulted under the mountain. That he had been raped again and again by Amarantha while she had been safe in the human lands as he had planned. He still couldn't bring himself to do it. He loved her so much, his angry feral little woman. But Tamlin knew that if he showed her the full extent of his darkness, 500 years worth, she wouldn't be able to handle it. Not now, maybe not ever.

She hurt so much, but even then, she was twenty years old. So young, so hopeful. Her human experience, enjoying and being in awe of everything at once, feeling all emotions in such a small space of time, living a full life in an eighth of his, was incredible. Tamlin couldn't help but be drawn to it. And although her body might have been changed, Feyre was still a human at heart. Tamlin couldn't, wouldn't break her with his own pain. He only wished he had the courage to ask her about her own. Thankfully Lucien had got a bit out of her, but Tamlin wanted her to open up. Wanted her to continue being open and human. He didn't want her to become like him.

"Did he torture you? Did he...touch you?" Tamlin hated that he had to ask it, hated that he hadn't been powerful enough to stop Rhysand from taking her away from him. Unbidden, he recalled his conversation with Feyre before he had sent her back to her human family.

I can hold my own, Feyre had insisted. Beautiful girl. Beautiful, angry, naive girl. She was good with a bow, but she stood no chance against this woman. He had to ensure she understood that. You can’t. Because I can’t. I can’t even protect myself against them, against what’s happening in Prythian. Even if we stood against the blight … they would hunt you down—she would find a way to kill you. I don't understand. Tell me, she had demanded. Sweet, brave girl. All that was good in the world. He had to keep her safe. Far away from Prythian.

He felt just the same as he had mere months ago. Only instead of Amarantha, it was Rhysand who he was helpless to stop. He despised it, the stupid Fae bargain, everything. He hated everything about the Fae. Everything Fae was why they were in this position now. "No," she reassured him. "He mostly left me alone." Tamlin tried to scent out a lie on her, but nothing. Truth, then. Tamlin heaved a sigh of relief. He had been torturing himself for days, ripping furniture to shreds, else bawling in his room. Finally, Lucien, tired of playing babysitter, had demanded he use healthier coping habits.Tamlin had started writing depressing fiddle songs that he knew were terrible, but Lucien had listened to each one and even clapped when necessary. Truly the greatest friend one could ask for.

They kept searching all of Prythian for solutions to the bargain. Even after Day had offered up nothing. They'd search the whole damn world if they had to for their cursebreaker. Their Cursebreaker. For she may be Tamlin's bride, but she was also Lucien's friend, and Prythian's hero. A fully-fledged war hero. Tamlin could still scarcely believe it. A mere human girl. Her fierce heart never ceased to amaze him. Though the silly woman had taken months to figure out a simple riddle, she had done it in the end. In a far more incredible, epic fashion. And she'd been gifted with immortality. Immortality with him.

"Come and eat. When you feel up to it, tell me what you remember of the Night Court." Tamlin hated to do it, but he couldn't waste this chance to learn more of Night- not when they were sworn enemies and knowledge could free Feyre. Although...daemati. Fuck. Was there a way to check if someone's mind had been meddled with? He asked Lucien about it later when his future bride had fallen asleep. "I could ask Nuan to talk to someone in Dawn about it," Lucien said. "They're the foremost experts in this healing shit, they could probably tell instantly whether or not her brain has been meddled with, and probably fix it too."

Tamlin breathed, "What if it can't be fixed?" Tamlin started breathing rapidly, feeling the panic attack coming on. Lucien's hand gripped his forearm. "Tamlin. Tamlin. Relax. I will bring Thesan himself here if that's what the fuck it takes." "Thesan? Would he even come?" Deep breaths, Tamlin. Deep breaths. Lucien snorted. "For the Cursebreaker? Zero hesitation." He walked away. Right. Feyre was something of a demigod, an idol, to these people now.

Tamlin tried to enjoy his time with Feyre, but it felt like a ticking time bomb. Every day her inevitable trip to that monster's house loomed closer. Who knew what he would do this time. Maybe he was trying to lure her into a false sense of security. Maybe he was making her forget things. Tamlin's imagination ran wild; so wild he had to vent to Lucien so as not to scare Feyre. Lucien sometimes outright facepalmed at his idiocy. "Well, if it makes you feel better, I managed to get Thesan to come here soon." "How soon?" Tamlin asked. He hated how desperate his voice was. It had been nothing but desperation his entire life, like some kind of rabid dog. Would he ever be free?

Lucien said, "A couple of weeks. He's doing some rebuilding and reconciling, but he can come around then." Tamlin slumped in relief before stress began to surge through him once more, causing a headache. "That's after Feyre goes back to Rhysand. By then, he could've caused irreparable damage to her brain." "It was the best I could do," Lucien said. "Tam, Thesan is the High Lord of Dawn. If anyone can do something about it, it's him. I can assure you, a week or two won't make a difference."

Tamlin gripped the edge of the table so hard wood came off in his hands. "Get out," Tamlin said quietly. Lucien opened his mouth to continue, but Tamlin roared, "NOW!" Lucien scurried away.

He felt guilty for how he'd yelled at Lucien, but Tamlin had to be alone now. He just had to. Not even Lucien knew the true extent of the darkness in his heart. Lucien was nearly two centuries younger than him. In spite of all the torment he had been through, he was still a living flame. Nothing like Tamlin. Full of tangled thorns, but outwardly a rose.

The second time Rhysand came to pick up Feyre, Tamlin damn near ripped him to shreds right there. Goddamn his superiority complex convincing himself that he's the most powerful guy around, Tamlin could take him on. They'd been friends once. Rhysand had learned all those oh-so-great Illyrian techniques of fighting. Hadn't stopped Tamlin from beating his ass to a pulp every time they'd sparred. He was a pale, skinny, dorky little man. Fighting was not his strength. But a High Lord fight here in his territory, with Feyre in his arms, that bargain in his favor...not the best idea. So, Tamlin controlled himself, even as his mind screamed, even as his heart pumped so hard he knew he gave away every feeling in his heart to Rhysand. Indeed the asshole smirked, as if he thoroughly enjoyed it. Brat.

A broken chair. Another broken table. Lucien had stood there, blood streaming down his face from the shrapnel, trying to get him to stop. When he'd finally gotten him to stop, Tamlin had taken the thoroughly scratched fiddle in Lucien's hands, trying to express himself through his music, the beast within longed to shred faeries to pieces. So, he played sad fiddle songs to appease Lucien, and when Lucien was elsewhere, searching for solutions to their little problem, Tamlin went into the forest.

And he shredded whatever ilk remained in the forest with his bare hands. Savored the scent of blood in the air. Tore out throats with his teeth as he had with Amarantha.

He didn’t come home until blood dripped from either side of his mouth, till his face was marred with scratches, his clothing ripped to shreds, his wrists sore from killing so many creatures. It took longer to let out his anger now that his power had returned. It was easy now-too easy. So, while Lucien was gone, he’d sometimes be out there for days at a time. It was the only way he could play the perfect, noble High Lord. No one needed to know the roars in the forest were him.

When Feyre returned, Tamlin checked her again. She looked the same as she had last time, but Tamlin trusted nothing. He didn’t trust Rhysand as far as he could throw him. He was now certain some kind of mind manipulation was happening here to make Feyre forget her torment. Otherwise, why would he even make such a bargain?

Unless he had done it for the simple pleasure of taking something from him. For the simple pleasure of torturing him. Or even more simply, he wanted Tamlin’s attention somehow. Some way. Tamlin couldn’t for the life of him figure out why. Was it his friendship that he desired so badly? After all this time? Rhysand was worse at making friends than Tamlin was; now that he thought about it, Tamlin might be Rhysand’s only friend ever.

Feyre shook her head in disgust when they were sleeping beside each other on the bed. “He can sense my emotions through the bond,” Feyre whispered. “He can spy on me- has seen me many times.” She shook her head. “I don’t feel safe anymore, Tamlin.” He was going to kill Rhysand. Inch by inch. He would savor every bit of it. And he’d do it in fucking beast form. Then he’d put Rhysand’s head on a spike and parade it around Spring like a fucking victory flag. He pulled Feyre into his arms, tucking her head into his chest. “I’m sorry sweetheart,” Tamlin murmured onto her head. “I’m sorry.” He vowed to remember it. Every bit of sorrow, of hurt he had felt from Feyre. And he’d make sure Rhysand felt it all before he died at Tamlin’s hands.

“Kiss me,” Feyre whispered against him. Tamlin stilled. “Are you sure? After all that-” “I want to forget,” Feyre insisted, and some of that old snappiness and anger returned to her voice. “Can you do that?” Tamlin understood better than anyone the need to forget. So, he obliged her.

Thesan examined Feyre, a soft glow emanating from his hands. “There’s no mind manipulation or brain damage as far as I can tell,” Thesan assured Tamlin afterwards. “The daemati think they’re sneaky, but a powerful healer can detect changes. There have been none in Feyre. She is still your bride, Tamlin.” Bride. Right. Tamlin had almost forgotten amidst the massive pile of horseshit that was Rhysand and his stupid bargain. Well, that was one thing off his chest, at least. “Not even memory loss? Or stolen memories?” Thesan shook his head, clasping his shoulder. “Worry not, my friend. Lady Feyre is perfectly alright.”

Tamlin ought to have felt comforted by the thought. But his paranoia got the better of him. Was it just him or was something different about her? Every time she left, she felt a little more distant. Tamlin could’ve sworn he saw her staring back at Rhysand in longing once. It was that look that had worried him more than anything else. “Is it the bargain magic? Is he manipulating you?” he had asked. Feyre had shaken her head. “The bargain magic has its limits. But…he tugged on something else last time. I couldn’t tell what it was; it was in the ribs, and it made me long for him. I didn’t like it at all, Tamlin. My heart belongs to you.”

Tamlin’s heart stopped. Simply stopped beating and dropped out of his chest. It was more still than it had been in Amarantha’s time. He had a very bad feeling about what it was affecting Feyre. And he knew why Rhysand had made that bargain. He had known before even Tamlin had.

Mates. Mates. Mates.

His beloved Feyre, unversed as she was in Faelore, did not understand. But Tamlin did. And he hated Rhysand even more. He hated him so much he couldn’t breathe. He hated him so much that he made an oath right then and there.

He swore to the Mother herself that if he didn’t kill Rhysand within the next twenty years, may the Mother claim his body as hers.

Amazing writing as always. Kate, you are also a genius. this is a very good theory and Amita you executed it incredibly well. The anguish between them, and the feeling of Feyre being so far away and Tamlin wanting to protect her is so heartbreaking, I love it.

Also fuck Amarantha, I want to murder her more than anything in the world.

Feyre still clearly wants to be with Tamlin. And I love how her mating bond is portrayed as almost similar to Tamlin's mother's, where it's fake love for Rhysand, the mating bond making her long for him rather than her own head. It's deliciously angsty and I want nothing more than for Tamlin to rip Rhysand to shreds.

This was amazing. I loved every inch of it, thank you so much!

[yuseirra]

Hello~ I have something to say because there's been something that's been on my mind, leaving me very depressed and concerned for the past couple months. I've been trying my best to be cheerful and uplifting but it's hurting me so much I just can't stand it...I have to be true to myself and let it all out, I feel like a stone's being pushed onto my chest, and I won't feel better without addressing it somewhere, so please pardon me, okay?

I'd been drawing a lot of project moon's fanworks earlier, remember how there's been an incident regarding limbus company and the artist being fired and whatnot? and then there's this stuff going about how fingers are drawn in maplestory, I have no idea about the details but something happened in arknights?? too? I don't play that game but still, well I'd been seeing a lot of these stuff happen for the past couple of months and since I come from a country where that's directly being taken place, I saw a lot of it happen firsthand except for some recent ones, it made me to go terminate my twitter which I had for a decade (I think I had it since 2013 or 2014. not that it matters now anyway, but I miss my friends I had there so much.)

I'm really hurt. It pains me so much to see people dig up a tweet someone's made several years ago using some kind of data crawler or archive and decide to get the mass to bring down a person over it, a person has many sides, how can you determine how exactly someone's feeling about something? and how can it lead to things like death threats, how can people be so eager to make someone "pay", I understand that people can be frustrated over some things, but where's the limit of these things? I felt so threatened and scared and upset, nothing bad's happened to me in person. All I've experienced is kindness and I am very grateful about it, but I can't say I'm not affected. Seeing a lot of things going around secondhand's been enough to put me through a lot of stress.

Some of my videos regarding projmoon's works had been very popular, you may have seen them if you're in the fandom! I used to be very proud of it. Now I'm upset and scared and I am pained, why can't I be as proud of them as I used to be, I put all my love into it back then. It's a terrible feeling. I have mixed feelings about having it up on my channel.. there's a part of me who love my works a lot.. and is happy about it having been able to give a lot of people joy. People have been enjoying it, and they've all been so kind about it. And then there's another part of me wishing I never made it in the first place because it really hurts and I'm reminded of these incidents whenever I see them. Which is such a pity, since I did a really great job with those. I'm still getting new comments with people telling me they are so impressed and all I could think about now is the.. all the, I don't know what to call all that..,

I'm scared that people might come after me and accuse of me being someone I am not, try to dig up my old tweets and find me problematic for doing something unfavorable for the fandom(not that I've said or done anything harmful in the past, I'm sure of that..I've ALWAYS tried my best to spread love when I could. I am confident about that.) maybe I'm being full of myself. Maybe people don't care about me or my works as much and I'll be okay but I have no idea how things will play out. I've been holding out till now, no one can say I didn't try..the fact that I've been keeping my works up there, I've been trying very hard to be strong in my own way (but at the same time I also felt like a coward for remaining in the status quo)

earlier I saw yt recommending me that library of ruina is getting a switch edition and I get reminded of all these stuff, I can't bear it. It hurts me so much. I've been holding this all in by myself since last july, maybe I'll have to take the videos down to make me feel better, but I'm not sure if I'll be safe that way. I deleted my twitter and now it comes to this, I won't delete my tumblr though. I love my experience as yuseirra and I'm happy for all I've received. I wish I could continue feeling that way, I want to believe in people, I want to care for them, and I don't want to think people will try to come after me and hurt me over the choices I make. So let me be strong, whatever I do, I'll do my best to be that way.

Thank you very much!! Lots of love!!

[bored-writer101]

Eddie Munson X Reader More Bats

A/N: this is a pretty self indulgent fic because the reader is an artist. i had the thought for this while staring looking at pictures of eddie. hope you guys enjoy :)) (gender neutral reader)

Warnings: none

Summary: you can’t stop yourself from drawing more bats down eddie’s arm in pen, but you didn’t think he was actually going to get them tattooed on him.

Words: 1194

(not my gif)

More bats. That's all you could think as you looked down at Eddie's bare forearm. The sleeves of his hellfire tee stopped right above the bat tattoos that were just below his elbow. More bats. You thought again as you twirled around the pen you were holding. You couldn't resist the urge to draw more bats, so before you could stop yourself, you clicked your pen and leaned forward.

The clicking sound had somewhat gotten Eddie's attention, but he was a little preoccupied with the metal magazine laying open on his bed in front of him. What did get his attention though, was the feeling of a pen against his skin. He furrowed his brows before looking down to his right arm.

Your tongue poked out from between your lips in concentration as you drew more bats down Eddie's arm. Eddie could feel his cheeks begin to heat up at the close proximity. "Uh... Y/N?"

"Mhm" you hummed in response, continuing to draw. "What are you doing?" he asked, even though he knew exactly what you were doing; he was watching you finish your second bat that was just below the first. "Drawing" you answered simply. Eddie chuckled, opting to not bother you and just let you work.

A few more minutes passed by before you sat back, satisfied with the three incredibly detailed bats you had added. You didn't notice Eddie had been looking at you until you looked up to meet his gaze. The realization of what you had just done hit you like a truck.

I just started drawing on him. I didn't even ask, I just started doing it! What if when he had asked what I was doing, he actually wanted me to stop? Your mind was racing as your eyes began to widen. It was as if Eddie could read your mind. He smiled warmly before looking down at his arm, brining it up closer to his face to inspect your drawings.

"These are fuckin' metal! They look even better than my old ones!" Eddie did his best to make sure you knew he appreciated them. He had wished you'd added more, just so he could feel the warm skin of your fingertips and watch the way your tongue stuck out of the side of your mouth as you concentrated on getting every line right.

"You like them?" you asked. "Like them? I fuckin' love them! You'll have to draw me some more stuff sometime" you couldn't help the smile that tugged at the corner of your lips. "Okay!" you said happily.

You glanced down at your watch, realizing you should have left at least fifteen minutes prior. "Shit. I'm gonna be late. My mom is gonna kill me" you mumbled. "I gotta go, but maybe I'll draw on you some more later" you got up off Eddie's bed before walking toward the door. "See you later" you said with a wave. "See ya" Eddie waved back before you turned and headed out of his trailer.

                                              ~

You didn't see Eddie for a few days after that. You had gotten busy with work, and he had gotten busy with school(a.k.a. hellfire club). The next time you saw him he had come over to your house.

It was late at night, and you had snuck Eddie in through your window. You talked in hushed whispers, trying to keep your giggles quiet every time Eddie made you laugh. After a bit he had finally pulled his jean jacket off and thrown it to the side. It hit your carpeted floor with a soft thump. "Oh please, just put that anywhere!" you joked, chuckling as your eyes wandered to Eddie's now bare arms.

Your laughter stopped abruptly as you noticed the bats you had drawn on Eddie's arm were still there. Had he really not showered in four days? You knew he wasn't the most hygienic guy, I mean you've seen his room, but he usually showered before seeing you. You remembered he had told you that after you teased him about not showering one time.

You didn't notice Eddie had stopped laughing and was looking at you with furrowed brows. You reached out and rubbed your thumb across one of the bats toward the bottom. Eddie smirked at your realization.

"I couldn't let those masterpieces go to waste. Besides, they matched anyway" Eddie said before you could speak. You looked up at him, noticing now that you must have leaned in closer. "I suppose I underestimated you when you said you loved them" you said with a quiet chuckle. "Haven't you learned not to underestimate me yet? There's nothing I won't do, sweetheart"

Sweetheart. The word echoed in your head as your eyes glanced down at Eddie's parted lips. You quickly looked back up at his eyes, hoping he didn't catch that, but the look on his face told you that he did.

His lopsided smile turned into a full on grin as his gaze admired all of you. You watched as his eyes scanned down your body. Even with your clothes on, you felt naked and venerable under his gaze. Your eyes were open wide like a deer caught in headlights.

Eddie laughed, a hand quickly coming up to cover his mouth to muffle the noises. "Don't need to look so scared, princess. I don't bite" you felt a shiver run up your spine at the pet name, and also at the close proximity as he leaned in to whisper in your ear. "Unless you want me to"

You couldn't take it anymore. You leaned back slightly so you could see Eddie's face, before you gripped the fabric of his already torn metallica tee and pulled him in. Your lips met in a messy kiss that was all tongue and clashing teeth. Eddie wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you into his lap as you wrapped your arms around his neck. You continued to make out as your hands snaked their way into his long hair.

You started to get lightheaded, but you didn't want to stop. You could barely believe you were kissing Eddie, and you weren't planning on stopping anytime soon. Eddie pulled away for both of you though, leaning back as you both panted, trying to catch your breath.

"You have no idea how long I've wanted to do that" Eddie finally spoke, though he was still a bit breathless.

"Me too" you replied with a shy smile.

"How about tomorrow I take you out on a real date? And maybe you can draw me another tattoo" his grin made you melt, and you didn't hesitate before replying.

"I would love that" you leaned in and kissed him again, slow and sweet this time.

"Can I just stay the night? Please?" Eddie asked once you pulled away.

"I don't see why not. Just be prepared to jump out the window if one of my parents knock on the door" you said with as you stood to lock your door.

"Don't worry, sweetheart. After we almost got caught last time, I'm always prepared" Eddie said before you jumped back onto your bed, straddling his waist and pulling him close for another passionate kiss.

[omkookie]

⚠️•⟨WARNING⟩•⚠️ 15+ Yandere Themes, Implied murder, Blood, Gilbert slitting his own wrist. This is more of a desperate Gilbert finally getting his darling. All that // Not proofread || Fem!Reader \\

"You're mine. I've decided." Gilbert's words ring throughout the ballroom loud and clear. All attention is drawn to you, and the curious gazes of those around you soon turn into whispers. A cold sweat runs down your back as you think of a response, "Oh... Haha, you're such a jester Prince Gilbert." You laugh nervously and scan the room, looking for Sariel. Maybe he could help you out of this hell. "I'm not joking." Gilbert's smile is sinister as he picks up your hand and presses a kiss against your ring finger.

No no no, He's playing with you again, Forcing you into an uncomfortable position where you're not sure how to respond and exposing you to the ugly malice of those around you. With those words alone coming out of his mouth, You're sure somebody in this ballroom is already plotting your death. After all, being the woman Gilbert von Obsidian is infatuated with immediately draws a red target on your back. "Hahaha, why the stiff face?" Gilbert laughs.

"Prince Gilbert. You're already engaged."

"Oh?" The temperature in the room feels even colder as Gilbert's voice has a sharp edge to it, his crimson eye glimmering dangerously, just like the blood that you're sure would be spilled in the future if you didn't find a way out of here. Gilbert looks intently at you, and you can hear his voice in your head whispering to you, "You can't refuse me. You either accept willingly or be forced to."

"I do have a fiance, yes? but it isn't uncommon for royalty to have multiple lovers is it?"

You take in a sharp breath and put on your best smile. Then you begin speaking, "Prince Gilbert, I am honored to know you favor me so much, Unfortunately... I am not a side piece. You would be better off with a lover of a higher rank than me."

Gilbert grins widely at you, "You're not trying to refuse me, are you little rabbit? It wouldn't do your country any good to refuse an honored guest and prince of an enemy empire." he speaks, his voice laced with venom as he speaks.

"No, of course not! However..." You voice trails off.

"After everything we've done together and the relationship we've built, you say this... Ah, So you've been toying with me this whole time? I can't believe you can be so evil after everything we've shared." Gilbert retorts.

'Seriously... what is he on?!' You think to yourself. Alarm bells begin going off in your head. Gilbert is trying to make YOU out to be the villain now.

"Prince Gilbert. I believe cooking for you and being dragged into your shenanigans is not that much. Let us end this conversation at that, and I wish you all that is best." You speak loud and clear. You're not going to let him say anything more. Ending the conversation like this with him is the best course of action you can take. The more he talks, the more his words would twist and turn until he eventually has you wrapped up inside his web.

"You're so cold to me. you wound me." Gilbert makes a sad face before he pulls you closer to him by your waist. He whispers in your ear, "Hehe, I'll leave it at that for now but don't forget to entertain me, or else I'll reveal your secret. Okay, "Belle"? I already told you that you're mine."

You angrily whisper back to him, "I am not yours, And I will never be. There is no secret. Whatever crazy obsession you have with me should end soon because I'm tired of it."

Gilbert hums at your reply before speaking, "A villain has fallen in love with you. You will never be able to escape."

His words send a shiver down your spine.

He looks you up and down before licking his lips. "I won't give up on you." He declares

…

One night you can't sleep.

You think back to Gilbert's words from the ball.

"A villain has fallen in love with you, and you will never be able to escape."

Gilbert appears to be even worse than before Since you told him to get over whatever obsession he has with you.

He's been irritably latching onto your arm whenever he can, constantly demanding your attention be on him and pouting when you ignore him. He's been following you around like a lost puppy. Recently Sariel has found himself taking even more medicine for his stomach as he has to deal with Gilbert's appalling behavior. Even Chevalier has started paying attention to you- albeit merely because he's confused by Gilbert's recent behavior

Nobody can wrap their heads around what is going on with Gilbert and you. Even Clavis, whom you would expect to understand Gilbert best, doesn't understand what is happening anymore.

Finally, You decide to get yourself a cup of water.

You slip out of the soft covers of your bed, Quickly fixing your bedhead before leaving your room.

On your way to the Kitchens, you begin to think once more.

If Rhodolite's future wasn't at stake here and you were a selfish woman, then you wouldn't care about displeasing Gilbert, and you would have given him the boot long ago.

How could you possibly be overthinking so much right now? All because of him? You sigh, finally arriving at the kitchen.

"You're thinking about me, aren't you? You have that frown on your face," Gilbert's voice cuts through the silence, startling you. "What are you doing here?!" You yap at him, taking a deep breath and trying to calm down the growing irritation of him being here.

Calm down... Right now, You need a cup of water and sleep.

Ignoring Gilbert, you get yourself an empty cup.

"It breaks my heart that you always wear such a look of disgust when it comes to me. How come you always look sweet thinking about anyone but me? Don't you love me?" Gilbert strides toward you before enveloping you in a hug from behind.

"How do I explain it in a way that will get my words through that thick skull of yours?" You speak. Gilbert, seemingly used to your cold attitude, rubbed his cheek innocently against your shoulder.

"I thought you liked me?" He asks

"I did. That was before finding out you're a complete lunatic." You reply.

"You must even love me if you compliment me so sweetly" Gilbert presses a kiss to your cheek.

You pull away from him before hissing, "I think you should go away, Prince Gilbert."

"You're always so mean to me..." Gilbert sighs, tightening his arms around you once more instead of letting you go.

"Little Rabbit, what will it take for you to like me?"

"I don't like you, and I never will."

"So rude... But it's alright. I love you just the way you are right now."

"Your feelings aren't reciprocated." it doesn't matter what you say or what you do. he doesn't listen.

"It's okay..." He whispers soothingly in your ear, the action feeling disgustingly sweet to you. "I wonder if you ever knew about all of the things I do for you, would you love me then?" "Would you resent me? Fear me? If you found out the truth, Would you find a silver lining to it?" Gilbert's voice is so quiet and melancholy you don't hear everything he whispers "Don't turn out like her." contrary to his voice a moment ago, his tone is now cold. And his few words were a warning.

"Like who?" You ask him. You're both confused and curious to know. 'Could he be talking about his fiance?' You accidentally voice that thought out loud, making Gilbert Chuckle. "Oh no, she's already dead."

Your heart beats uneasily, and you feel yourself turning cold.

Dead.

His fiance is suddenly dead.

And he doesn't seem the least bit concerned about it, he infact looks relieved. You shove Gilbert as hard and far away from you as you can. You just know he killed her. who else but him?

You can't deal with this anymore. You need Sariel, you need Rio, You just need somebody here with you right now."

"Please don't look at me like that," Gilbert pleads, "I did it all for you." Gilbert's porcelain-like face crazed. As if the mask he was wearing was finally breaking in front of you. "I Did it all for you, so don't look at me like that." Gilbert sounds somewhat panicked as he tries to grab ahold of you. He just knows that if he let you go right now he would never be able to see you again.

"Don't touch me." Your voice is cold while you quickly step back, getting away from him.

"I know you're afraid but, please don't be. I would never hurt you" Gilbert almost sounds frantic as he chases after you, eventually driving you into a corner. Raindrops tap against the windows. A violent storm is raging outside, One very much resembling the murderous intent that Gilbert radiates right now. Gilbert wraps his fingers around your neck so tightly you're almost choking. "We'll be together, you and I. you're the only person who makes me believe in true love." his words sound outlandish as he looks into your eyes.

Before you know it, he's pulled out a pocket knife, and you shut your eyes, expecting him to kill you, but when nothing happens, you open them again. Within a few moments, You see blood dripping down Gilbert's wrist. His hold on your slackening as he smiles at you "I told you I wouldn't hurt you."

"If they find out you slit my wrist, I'll be able to take you with me without any obstacles in the way." He leans his head on your shoulder as you panic, grabbing whatever cloth is nearest then wrapping it around his wrist as tightly as you can. If he blamed you, there would be no escape this time. after all, it's a prince's word against yours.

Despite having his wrist slit he looks as happy as a child that just got a new toy.

This time he caught you.

His quiet laugh is wicked as he tucks a stray hair behind your ear. You're finally his.

🤍— @queen-dahlia !

[cuubism]

that idea about dream having once had wings is living in my head rent-free so have some hcs for the other endless & wings

imo destiny wouldn’t have wings. he is chained to his book, to reality, to the future and the past. he is a force that supports the laws of nature, rather than denies them. he is fixed in a way that dream & death are not. he does not have wings because he is the walls that keep us from flying, the ceiling hanging low over our heads. he is the limit, the boundary, the end. he has no flights of fancy. he is what is, not what can be. destiny does not have wings. 

death has wings, of course. it’s partially because we imagine her as the angel of death, come to bear us away to another world. death is an ending, a reality, like destiny, but the line between life and death is permeable (albeit in only one direction) in a way destiny’s lines are not. death is what brings people to another world. she guides us, lifts us up, brings us comfort at the end. death as the anthropomorphic personification is not only an ending, but a beginning, and it is the sound of her wings that conduct us from this place to the next. she is a doorway, a path, a light at the end of the tunnel. death has wings. 

and then dream. of course, dream. he is a literal flight of fancy, defined as that which is not, the essence of unreality. he is not limited by what is, he is free, he is dream. of course he has wings. 

later, he does not, but i think you’ve done a far better job talking about that than i ever could. 

desire is nebulous, hard to pin down. they are not concrete, they are emotions, they are everywhere & everywhen. if you shut them up, shut them away, they will destroy you, because they cannot be caged. desire has wings. 

despair… she is her twin’s darker shadow, their balance, the falling to their flight. desire lifts you up, whispers that there is freedom above if only you try. despair tells you that there is nothing up there, and you couldn’t reach it if there were. all that is left is to sink, to let the water weigh you down and to drift. to fall. to slumber in viscous tar that will not let you free. despair does not have wings. 

destruction is anchored in reality, in carnage, in ruin. he is a crumbling, a falling, a flame. he does not fly because he is inevitable, because he is not meant for such graces. but he wants to fly, longs for it, wishes hopelessly to escape the destruction he wreaks like a bird that flutters out of a window the moment before the whole of it tumbles to ruin. when he paints himself, he adds wings. 

delight flew, long ago. her wings were myriad colours and full of light. she was the rainbow at the end of a storm, the glint of a smile, the shimmer of light on glass. she flew with purpose, with luminescence, with glory. the flutter of a heartbeat, the uplift of joy. delight had wings. 

delirium does not. she drifts, unmoored by gravity or by reality, separated from everything more sharply than dream ever was — even dream must obey the line drawn between the waking and the dreaming, but delirium simply floats through such boundaries. she is disconnected, a speck on the wind, a hallucination, her movements unpredictable and bound by no laws. delirium is a ghost, and needs no wings.

i love these so much, thank you! particularly the idea of destruction painting himself with wings. i'm trying to decide if i want to posit desire having wings sometimes, my thoughts on it won't fully form... but desire as a concept can be so fickle, so on-and-off, that i wonder about their wings being so too. i really like your headcanons :)

add dream losing his wings to the list of Fucked Up Things That Messed Up The Endless As A Family, particularly if having wings is like an Endless thing at least for some of them. strong headcanon that it's just Not Talked About since dream won't speak of it after how things went down with destiny and nobody really knows how to address it anyway. if it's brought up it's usually desire being a dick about it (though deep down they actually do feel sympathy for dream, plus the fear of this happening to them too). everybody very functionally ignores it and dream doesn't mention it for 5 billion years 👍 nothing like NOT grappling with the sudden knowledge that you can be permanently changed against your will. it's fine

anyway this reminded me of how morpheus is sometimes depicted with wings in art. such as

In the Arms of Morpheus, W. Reynolds-Stephens

Morphée, Jean Antoine Houdon

Morpheus, Jean-Bernard Restout

you get the gist 😂

[illneverbesorry]

Don't Stand So Close To Me- Part 6

Don't Stand So Close To Me - Part 6

Warnings: Swearing, Teacher-Student Relationship

____________________________________________

Y/N POV

You wake up to a rather loud owl on the first Saturday of half term. Your dorm was empty as most of the students had gone home for the week. The owl screeched again as you try to rest your head back onto your pillow "Ok! Ok! I'm up!" You stumble to the owl, taking the letter from it and giving it a treat before it flew off, clearly it didn't want to wait for a reply.

You smile as you recognise Sirona's handwriting, you break the wax on the envolope and pull out the letter.

'Hello my friend,

I have a big favour to ask of you.

Would you be able to work the lunch shift with me today?

Its going to be very busy and I need the help.

Yours

Sirona'

You never minded helping Sirona after all she'd done for you. You head to bathe and change before grabbing an apple and decided to slowly make your way to Hogsmead.

Aesop POV

Aesop grumbled at the tapping at his window. It's was too early and he was too hungover for this, he pushes open the window and pulls the letter from the owl's beak, he offers the creature a treat and it seems to roll its eyes at him and flies off.

Shrugging at the fussy owl he closed the window and turned his attention to the letter, Aesop frowns not recognising the handwriting. His eyes scan the words before him and he visibly shudders, now thr stuck up owl made sense....

It was a letter from Widow of a former colleague from the Aurors office. She wanted to 'meet up' for a drink in Hogsmead this afternoon. Her name was Helena Steele, she was a half blood witch with the ideals and attitude of a pure blood.

Even at her husband's funeral she was trying to look for her next parter.

Sadly while Aesop's colleague lay dying in St Mungo's he made a promise to check in on Helena every now and then.

The letter said to meet her for Lunch outside the Three Broomsticks. Sighing Aesop checked his pocket watch and grumbled, he'd have just enough time to floo to Hogsmead. It was going to be a long day.

Y/N POV

It was a beautiful day and you were happily walking through the streets, it was bright day in the Highlands and if you were going to be inside all afternoon you were going to enjoy the weather while you could.

Your eyes were drawn to the figure of a woman dressed in the most gerish dress and enormous hat you'd ever see.

You chuckle to yourself the sight, you laugh right up to the moment she rushes up to a man and throws her arms around him.....not just any him.....around one Aesop Sharp.

You dive behind a building only peaking your head out to see them. Aesop wraps his arms around her in return and your heart sinks. Had he met someone else? Had he moved on?

The woman leaned up and kissed his cheek, weaved her arm around his and pulled him out of sight.

You fight the urge to cry as you pull yourself back around the corner, you push your back against the wall trying to ground yourself.

Had you really lost him? All these months later, even after all the pain and heartache you still held out hope that somehow you'd find your way back to one another. But it seemed that you were truly too late.

You enter the Three Broomsticks with a fake smile and a heavy heart, but ready to help your friend.

Almost instantly Sirona grabs your arm and stops you further entering the premises.

"Y/n, I tired to reach you. Its not that busy, I don't want you to waste your afternoon" Sirona looked flustered and suspicious.

You glance over her shoulder to see Aesop and his lady friend sitting at a table near the back.

"I've already seen them Sirona, I saw them on my way here" you smile tight lipped and make your way around the bar grabbing a towel and serving tray before putting yourself to work.

"Aesop I do wish you'd have chosen a better establishment, this place is so.....beneath the likes of us" the snotty woman said loudly, you catch Sirona's eye to the side of you. Her shoulder tightened but she shrugged it off.

"And these people, they're so.....simple and dress so terribly. Oh and don't get me started on the hostess...oh, service! Service!" The woman shouts snapping her finger at you. Aesop with his back to you didn't even speak a word, you doubted he even knew you were here.

You glare over to the table and back at Sirona, that was the last straw. You smiled evily "that's about all the bullshit I can take"

Sirona grabs your hand "Y/n no, I'm used to it, people say things like that all the time" you smile and squeeze her hand sweetly.

"Well it's the last time they do it infront of me" you grabbed your tray and turn as the woman snaps her fingers again.

When the woman sees you're moving towards them she turns her attention back towards Aesop. Putting her hand on his arm.

You lift your tray above your head and let it drop to the table with an almighty bang. The woman jumped with a scream. Aesop's gaze snaps towards you "Y/n...." you can hear the worry in his voice.

"Oops, sorry guess I'm just so....simple" you fake apologise.

"These people are just so rude, even this poor child has been....infected by this hideous place. Don't worry dear, one day I'm sure you'll find a man with money who can supply you with the finer things in life and you won't be trapped here any longer" she straightened her hideous and obviously expensive dress, while grimacing at your outfit.

Your outfit is more form fitting than hers and the way you can feel Aesop's gaze burning its way over your curves you'd dare say you look so much better than she does. You chuckle humourlessly

"Wow, while your insult disguised as advice was.....charming" you rolled your eyes "you have reminded me that money can't buy everything, take you for example. Money may have bought that hideous dress but it hasn't bought you class or manners" you smile brightly "or a basic sense of fashion" Aesop smiles but drops his head to disguise it but not before Helena see him. "You insolent little...."

Helena raised her wand towards you, "and I'm not a child which means I can legally do this" you raised your hand and with the very limited wandless magic Natty had helped you master, you knocked her wine over the monstrosity she was wearing. "MY DRESS!"

"Oh dear" you fake pouted your lip "I would apologise but honestly that dress is so terrible I doubt people would notice the difference" you smile and walk away stopping only for a second to pull off your necklace before turning back momentarily "Oh I almost forgot, here Professor I believe this is yours." You drop the locket down onto the table and walk away.

You glance at Sirona who had a small smile pulling at her lips "anything else you need boss?" She smiled shaking her head at you and told you to head home. You strut towards the door with a skip in your step.

"A little over the top don't you think?" You hear the distinctive accent of one Ominis Gaunt who was leaning. You smiled over at him and pulled him into a hug.

Ominis pulled you out of the Three Broomsticks and back towards the castle. You didn't see Aesop jump to his feet at the sight of your arm wound through Gaunt's. "Heading somewhere PROFESSOR?" Sirona shouts towards him when he goes to follow you, her eyes set hard believing he'd once again broken your heart.

Aesop clutches the locket in his hand sinking back into his chair and turning to glare at the woman before him who had ruined everything.

Ominis walked you back towards the castle, explaining that he needed a break from a Sebastian and his new collection of books in Feldcroft and that he'd walked into the Three Broomsticks just in time to see your performance.

"There is one thing I wanted to ask....whats going on with you and Sharp?" you head snapped towards your friend who smiled. "I was probably the only person who noticed you pulling off the locket you've worn for over a year and slam it down before him. So I'm guessing he's the one who gave it to you...which would lead one to believe that you and he...."

You sighed heavily and stop walking turning towards Ominis "What? Are you going to report me?" Ominis smiled slyly

"Y/n, if I didn't report Sebastian for what happened with his Uncle I'm hardly going to report you having a fling with a Professor" you rolled your eyes pulling him back along the path.

"It wasn't like that, it's not like I was trying to get help with my grades...." You trailed off shyly

"I never thought for a second that that's what you were doing, if you're willing to take such a big risk for him, if you both are willing to risk everything, then your feelings must be very much real" you look over at Ominis with a teary smile and throw your arms around him. He laughs and hugs you in return.

You felt the weight of the world lifted off your shoulders, someone knew and they didn't judge you, or hate you. "Thank you, but things are over."

You wiped your eyes and smiled sadly. "He's made that clear time and time again. Now I need to let him go, like he's obviously let me go"

"I wouldn't be so sure, considering I heard him try to follow us, Sirona stopped him." Ominis grabbed you hand tightly

"I've seen things, in my own way," you laugh as he waves his wand infront of your face "I see the way his gaze follow you, how his demeanour changes around you and how you both changed and not for the better at the end of last year."  He sighed squeezing your hand "and I've seen how in the last few weeks how you're both been happier"

"Yeah he's so happy he's on a date with another woman Ominis" you interrupt your friend causing him to scowl at you.

"Does that heinous woman really seem like the type of person Sharp would put up with? He barley tolerates Black on a good day!" You laugh "things may not be as simple as they seem, don't lose hope" Ominis reaches for you face and wipes away a tear he seemed to know was there.

"Lets get you back to the castle, then I can go and see if Sebastian has been buried in a book avalanche"

[rekishi-aka]

The Mars House by Natasha Pulley

So somehow...I managed to finish the book already? Not sure how, actually. (Well, I sort of do, I spent a few hours in bed with a hot water bottle on my chest to relax the muscles in case that's causing some of my issues.)

Anyhow!

In a way, it was a very typical and also a very un-typical Pulley book. I like her style a lot in all her books (we shall not speak of the Pepperharrow book and I have not read the Bedlam Stacks) and there are enough twists in the story to keep me entertained. Some of it was utterly predictable, but in a good way where I want to know how they pull off a trope.

I've been rereading some of the Pulley books recently and they're all much more minimalistic than I do remember them after the first read. Which is...weird, sort of, but I think is actually a perk of her style. It looks like a hole when you scrutinize it, but your mind actually makes up for it.

The Mars House is a bit denser written than her previous things, but in a good way, it's fun.

It has a lot of Mandarin (and footnotes!!), but often the hanzi are missing in favour of only giving the Pinyin. As someone with a basic language and C-ent background, this is mildly annoying. I think the random Pinyin would drive me even more bonkers if I didn't have that background. I like it! I genuinely do and I think it's nicely done. But also...I'm not sure how people other readers are experiencing this.

The characters are nicely drawn, I like them all even if I want to bash January over the head sometimes.

I especially like the gender abolition topic and the friction it causes within the society, but also the display of how if a non-issue it is in the end.

I do recommend it!

Spoilers under the cut

A list of thoughts:

January. I love him. He has no clue what kind of story he's in. Which is fair! But he makes some Really Dumb Decisions, which are understandable in his position - he's not a politician, he has only been paying surface attention to the politics, Gale is being cagey about a lot of things, he's traumatized, marginalized, and has good reason to believe he'll meet the same fate as Max - but argh. January, honey, get with the program and pay attention. (He comes around.)

Gale (River) is a smart idiot. I love them. But for all their intelligence, they are a bit stupid. I get why. It makes sense for them. But they could have made this a lot easier on everyone if they'd just come clean to January.

I wish we'd learned more about the naturalization process, because it sounds fascinating

I expected the Canadian shack (or well..tent in the cold wilderness), but not like this, that was nice twist

It's also quite meta since it references both a certain shop on Filigree Street, as well as radio-dosimetry on film

As I said, I need to suspend my disbelief here, simply because I mean

Mammoths?!

What do the mammoths eat and drink, if water is the limiting factor? How do they have pine forests, if they are low on water? I mean I get it, pine do better in cold climate, but pine also needs water. There are examples of arid cold climates on earth, but....hrm idk. Weird.

Why are mammoths relevant for the ecosystem anyway?

The resistance cages are such a central part and idk if it really makes sense. Like yes, gravity is lower on Mars, sure. And yes, people will probably grow taller in lower gravity. But one the one hand, evolution doesn't work that quickly (sure, they do genetic engineering), but also people who come to Mars will have less muscles after a while. We see it with ISS astronauts and they exercise a lot up there. So the danger would actually be less after a while if they just left people out of cages. There's even a point of that in the book, where Sasha and his staff train with the cages.

[amysubmits]

You mentioned that when you brought up the D/s relationship to your husband, you sent him articles about it. Do you remember where you found those articles? My husband and I have been married 14 years, and together 19. We had a very limited sex life in the past due to sexual trauma I had from my previous relationship. I always had very bad feelings towards sex and viewed it as something that just hurt and the sooner it’s over the better and you just have to get him off to be done.

It wasn’t until I started reading erotica novels about BDSM that I even changed my view on sex and had my first orgasm…3 years after being married (5 years after I first had sex). Now I have a much healthier relationship with sex and I can have multiple orgasms, multiple ways.

My husband is very Alpha and amazing at making sure I’m taken care of and he prioritizes me and my safety. We’ve always sort of had that D/s dynamic. But I really want to go deeper into it. He’s open to discussing it. I just don’t know where to start other than the stereotypical stuff you see everywhere. I almost wish we had someone that could guide us and I don’t know how to bring it up to him that he needs a much better understanding of it just from having no familiarity of how in depth the dynamic is. The thing I’m mostly drawn to is the psychological aspect of it and when the Dom knows what the sub needs and demands it, regardless if the sub is aware what he’s doing. Thank you for all your posts and putting everything out there for people wanting to expand from a long term vanilla relationship to a new D/s relationship!

Hi there!

I'm so sorry that you've had the traumatic sexual experiences that have made it harder for you to find your way with your sexuality - but it's so cool that you've managed to do so now! Mine was a bit different from yours it sounds like, but it took me a while to figure out my sexuality due to trauma as well.

As far as what I shared with CD when I was first sharing the concept with him...

I came across the idea of domestic discipline (aka DD) before we knew about 'regular' D/s. It took a while before I realized that DD is basically a form of D/s. There's often a lot more D/s content out there than there is DD, so being limited to just knowing to search for DD made it especially tough. But anyway, the articles that I found early on where all on DD sites. There was some DD site that had a forum that was most of what I used as a reference from what I recall, and that site has since shut down. It was already really inactive by the time I was finding it like 10 years ago. But another that I can recall looks like it's still up. That is

I also recall a blog that was called A Shrew Tamed but I can't seem to find that. I think it may have been a Wordpress or blogspot blog?

That's what I recall starting with, anyway. While I gained a lot of info from those sources, I remember feeling frustrated that I couldn't find anything that was "spot on" for what I wanted. There are plenty of non-sexist DD people out there, but DD does bring in the sexist people more than regular D/s does, so there's a lot of sexism that can get mixed into most of the content I was finding early on... and that was always really offputting to me, but at the time it was the closest I could find to what I wanted. So I'd just share stuff with Cd but then point out the parts that I disagreed with or whatever. And he sometimes had additional parts that he disagreed with. So we had to kinda patch together our own path using some ideas from others but then crafting the rest based on our own ethics and needs and so on. Which I thought was kind of 'wrong' at the time, but I'm so glad we did that rather than feeling like we had to copy some guidelines from someone else that weren't right for us.

It took a ton of talking to get started, and that was pretty uncomfortable for me at the time as my communication skills were pretty bad and I had a lot of shame wrapped up in all of this so it was hard to talk about. But, to do D/s safely, I really had to get to a place where I could talk about it pretty in depth and openly so in hindsight, I'm glad that we did push ourselves to do all that talking. It was needed. Some of what we had to explore in depth were what both of us were wanting to feel about different aspects of D/s, what things we thought would give us those feelings and what things we thought would definitely NOT give us those feelings. And then once we started, we talked about what we were doing all the time in the beginning. CD wanted to know how everything he did felt to me, and we tried to keep adjusting if anything didn't feel good or right.

It's great that you know that a big part of what you're looking for is for your partner to know your needs and to prioritize them. Most likely, making it possible for him to know your needs in different situations will require you to share your needs with him a lot for a long time so that he can learn the patterns of what you need. And I know that sucks because a lot of times when we want someone to know our needs, part of what feels good is them 'just knowing' without us asking or telling, but realistically, our partners can usually only learn our needs in extreme detail like that, if a lot of communication happens early on.

It sometimes feels like CD 'reads my mind' and 'just knows' things - but that's almost always because at some point in the past, we openly discussed that need in some way or another. It also helps that he is very observant of my behavior and reactions to things, so he notices if I have a positive or negative reaction to something that happens or is said, and he tries to catalog that for future use. But that alone wouldn't be enough for him to know my needs most of the time.

I wish I had some specific article to point you to that would be exactly what you want, but I don't know of one. I do know that there's lots of great content here on tumblr that you could maybe use to send to your partner with commentary about what sounds good about it and what doesn't sound so good about it, the way I did with those early articles years go. I have a tag on my blog #vanilla to D/s that I use to tag any content I write or reblog that I think would be of interest to people transitioning from vanilla to D/s. @cherishedproperty has some of the best d/s content on tumblr in my opinion. Off the top of my head, I believe @tinybitsubby and @cybister015 are two more blogs you can follow for vanilla to D/s experience. And there are lots of others that are just good D/s examples even if they aren't vanilla to D/s. I tag most reblogs with #other writers if you want to browse that to see other blogs I've reblogged from and check out their content.

Hope this helps! If you have any additional questions come up feel free to reach out again. Best of luck to you guys. :)