#because it's curated from your individuality

[headspace-hotel]

I am small and I can't do very much. That is the despair of an individual in a big and violent world. But the plants teach me it is okay to be small. Everything is either small, or made of things that are small. We are all connected. Symbiosis.

So, on the subject of bugs.

It is the fourth summer of the Meadow. My plants grow strong and wild and cover more space than ever before. I have worked to eradicate the invasive lawn grass and carefully curate large clumps of only native species (with a few esteemed naturalized weeds allowed---I have no quarrel with Chicory, it has a positive effect on the ecosystem).

I have tall, huge native Field Thistles, multitudes of tough and aggressive evening primrose, wild strawberry spreading everywhere, a dozen vigorous gray-headed coneflowers, giant clumps of cup-plant, and so many asters and goldenrods that I've had to start targeting them in my weeding.

Yes, yes, I have the showy ones like purple coneflowers and black-eyed susans, but I also encourage and cultivate weird little weeds that are too inconspicuous or ugly to be often planted on purpose. White avens, lanceleaf frogfruit, nettle-leaf vervain.

There are too many plants. I'll spend forever listing them all. What is really interesting, is what's happened with the bugs.

Every year, there has been a much bigger variety and population of insects. I am both seeing many more species, and seeing the same species in much, much larger numbers. Even on the same plants that were already there 4 years ago, I can see way more bugs.

Flower flies, for instance. There are tiny yellow and black flies known as flower flies that are very beneficial for gardeners, because their larvae are predators that attack aphids. It used to be that I could often see a dozen, but now I see hundreds of them every time I go outside!

Or wasps. There are more species of wasps than I possibly could have imagined. It used to be that I would only see the reddish paper wasps, the ones that make big paper nests in the eaves of your house, but now, there are dozens of different wasps. Some are black, others black and white, others black and yellow, others black and brown, and they come in all different sizes. A bunch of blue-black wasps with white stripes live in the log next to my pond.

I identified them and looked up the species, and they had not been studied at all since the 1960's. Supposedly they are solitary species, but several different wasps have made nests inside the log right next to each other. That's the first interesting thing. The second interesting thing is that the nests were first inhabited last summer, and the same species of wasp still lives in them, so their town has been inhabited for multiple years instead of being abandoned when the larvae emerge. Has the next generation taken over the old nests? I am observing something about the species that is not known to science.

Wasps are hated and feared, but my wasps have never been anything but peaceful and polite, and they have so much beauty and importance in the ecosystem.

And the bees! I am observing bees this year that I had never even heard of before. Many of them are so tiny, I doubt they could even reach the nectar in large flowers like purple coneflower. What if the small, inconspicuous flowers are essential for smaller pollinators like the tiny bees? That would make sense. Different flowers evolved to attract different bees.

Beetles, ants, leafhoppers, flies, moths, butterflies, all kinds of bugs. Specific plants attract specific bugs, but it is not the plants individually that restore insect biodiversity, it is the way the plants interact and form a bigger ecosystem.

What I mean is, as my garden grew, the increase in bugs was not linear in relationship to the plants, it was exponential. The combination of the many different plants into an ecosystem attracted many more bugs than would be expected from the sum of each plant individually.

I remember the emptiness and barrenness before. I see it around me when I visit other places. The disappearance of bugs. The insect apocalypse. It's so clear to me now. The cause is biotic homogenization. I call it plant sameness.

Everywhere around me, landscapes have been made into expanses of the same few plants. But when plant sameness is replaced by variety and diversity, many plants interacting in many different ways, everything changes.

[sweetness-doesnt-touch-my-face]

Hello

I like your post,

But what does infj mean ?

Hi!

It stands for: Introverted, Intuitive, Feeling, Judging.

It's a personality type based on the Myers Briggs theory.

In MBTI theory, the four categories are introversion/extraversion, sensing/intuition, thinking/feeling, and judging/perceiving. According to the MBTI, each person is said to have one preferred quality from each category, producing 16 unique types. The MBTI emphasizes the value of naturally occurring differences between every person.

[vmures]

I agree that people seem to have gotten different concepts mixed up when it comes to criticism. For me the key thing I remind myself of daily is that other people's opinions of me are none of my business...unless they go out of their way to make it my business at which point I have a right to block or delete commentary.

To explain the concept in examples, if I am surfing the web, scrolling tumblr, or in a discord and happen to come upon a discussion of me and/or my writing, then it's on me to not engage. Those discussions are not for me, I just happened to stumble upon them. Such experiences can really suck (it's why a lot of authors avoid their goodreads reviews and such), but those takes aren't my business. I just happened to stumble upon it.

However, when someone leaves you a comment on your work, sends you an ask or dm through social media, tags you on social media or discord, or otherwise goes out of their way to be sure you see their take, then it becomes my business because they insisted that I see their take. At that point, the best thing I can do if said opinion is upsetting or bothers me on any level is block the person and, if it's a comment or ask, delete it.

Because the thing is that I find most unsolicited critique to not be all that valuable, at least in terms of story structure and grammar usage. I've also seen too many people use supposed critiques to harass and bully authors. I say supposed critiques because they'll basically just say something is awful or the author is awful and that's it. It's not really a critique. It's an opinion, but there's no suggestion on why they feel that way. So there's nothing to be gained from paying attention to it. When it comes to unsolicited critiques on grammar and story structure, I don't know this person or their credentials. Why should I trust them when it comes to improving my writing? It's possible we just have very different styles, or we are writing in different dialects of English.

It's dangerous to assume that someone who states on their works that they do not want constructive criticism or any form or critique has no desire to improve their writing. They may well be working with people they know and trust to improve.

And for creators, it's important to remember that we can only control our own spaces. What people do outside of those spaces is absolutely none of our business. Don't go searching for what others think of you unless you are comfortable seeing the bad along with the good.

A common argument I see against constructive or negative opinions (even in For Readers spaces now apparently 🙄) is that they crush people's dreams of being a writer.

And like. I have diagnosed issues with rejection sensitivity, so sharing my work publicly was extremely difficult for me at first. But it was just something I had to get through if I wanted to be a writer. When I was in a university level creative writing class, I was stunned that they wasted a seminar teaching us stuff like you're/your and there/their/they're until I noticed that my classmates found it really useful. I realised 00s fandom taught me better grammar than the actual official school system, say nothing of charactisation, voice, pacing, etc. There were a LOT of resources to help new writers understand writing 101 and avoid annoying mistakes/cliché plots, which you don't really see anymore. I honestly feel like I got an expensive years long creative writing course for free.

And even as a melodramatic and oversensitive tween, I always had the attitude that I wanted my writing to be good, so if people pointed out typos or grammar mistakes I'd just thank them, fix it and remember for next time??? I never once felt "bullied" by legitimate criticism: as someone who actually was bullied a lot IRL, 00s fandom was actually one of the few spaces where I felt comfortable and safe. Whereas tbh I don't always feel comfortable with this modern culture where fanfic writers demand comments in return for creating "content" "for free" but setting strict demands for what kind of comments they want to receive. (And ofc it's for free! It's not their intellectual property!)

Which is all to say, if someone telling you "hey, maybe consider adding paragraph breaks" makes you want to quit writing forever then maybe you didn't actually want to be a writer all that much.

--

I think people mix a whole bunch of dissimilar things.

If you go to art/film/etc. school, you'll need to get used to group critique. It's partly about advice, but a lot of it is about toughening you up for future situations where your audience is not going to care about why a work isn't up to their standards. I think some of these practices actually can be pretty damaging. It really depends on the professor to make them constructive.

A key element is that people who are going through that are usually supposed to already have some experience and be pretty committed, so they aren't going to shrivel up and quit.

When I was a little baby writer, I was indeed pretty sensitive. Even while trying to finish the first draft of a novel, I need cheerleading or maybe goading to put my ass in a chair. The hard part is getting the words out, not making them good. So a lot of negative shit, even if well meant and useful, would just be discouraging.

But...

There's a big difference between having no interest in back seat driving from AO3 comments and opposing all review-ish conversation anywhere, whether it's bookmarks or discord servers or other archives that have more of a culture of reviews than of comments for the author.

I think you can want to improve but not want to do it via AO3 comments. You should still leave readers to do their thing outside of your comments though. Analyzing or reviewing can be a big part of someone's own fannish activity—a positive and fun hobby for them, not just an excuse to yell at the writer.

[bbokicidal]

Not a Need, but a Craving | Loser!Perv!SKZ

Warnings: Chris is lowkey a creep here lol, Perverted behavior; Panty stealing, slapping of tits/ass/face, hair pulling, up-the-skirt pics, one-sided masturbation, meandom?Jeongin Pairing: OT8 [individual] x Fem-implied!Reader Genre: Suggestive but not smut (well.. sort of. 18+) Notes: Based loosely off of this perv!skz post I did a while ago. <- read this first!

방찬

Relation: Trainees

❥ Chris tells himself he'll delete these pictures every time he takes them, but he always ends up adding them to the the album specifically curated towards you and your -- well, the panties he deemed so cute and so sexy, enough so that he needed the pictures on his phone or he'd die. It was the only thing that he could get off to at this point; Women just didn't ever seem to want to come home with him so he could actually get some pussy, so...

❥ He's almost... proud of himself with how slick he's gotten; Taking pictures up your dress at the club when you're dancing against him, sneaking a photo or two up your skirt on the train while you wait to get off, or even up your nightgown when you're in the kitchen making breakfast for him after he stayed the night because the ride home was hours long and you had too big of a heart to let him go so late in the night.

❥ And of course he knows you can never find out. You're pretty, popular amongst the trainees and he's -- yeah, he's been there a long chunk of time but he doesn't have a ton friends or go out with people like you do. If you found out, if anyone found out, he'd be kicked out of the company and he'd never see you - or your pretty pussy and cute lacy panties - ever again...

리노

Relation: College students

❥ Minho is always touching you. When he can, at least.

❥ It started all because you sat next to him when studying. He was there to help you, but you insisted on moving closer to look at the textbook he was gesturing to and the moment your thigh brushed against his own it was all over for him. He'd tensed up and choked on every word that tried to leave his throat, ears bright pink. He could even smell your perfume from where he sat.

❥ He knew almost immediately he needed more, so as he came over more often to help you with classwork - because that's all he was to you, a tutor - he would let you sit close or even ask you to come sit beside him instead of across the table so he could have you right there. He would think about it later, too; The way your hand lingered on his arm when you patted it and bid him goodbye that evening, the way your fingertips brushed over his own as you eyed the textbook together.

❥ Maybe he was a bigger loser than he thought, getting off just from the simple touch of a pretty girl he shares a class with. (Not that he'd ever admit to you that sometimes he comes in his pants when your thighs touch his own under the table...)

창빈

Relation: Gym buddies

❥ Changbin was... still shameless.

❥ But even less so, now. He'd begun asking you to come to the gym with him all three times of the week he went - his schedule a bit busier than normal these days - and every single time he would go home and right away hop in the shower to tug on his cock.

❥ He'd started doing this... thing. He swore it was so that at the end of the year, you could create a video that showed your progress over every day you spent together at the gym working hard - but really, Changbin took photos of you two together at the end of your workouts just so he could use them while he got off later that evening. The sight of your hair all messy, you in slightly damp workout leggings and a sports bra, skin shiny with a thin layer of sweat...

❥ He knew it was a little gross, using your body to get off like that. Especially when you were sweaty in all of the pictures - But he preferred it that way. He could hear your heavy breathing in his ears even hours after you'd parted ways, the way your chest bumped his arm as he flexed and you held up a playful peace sign and smile. Call him gross all you want - He knew what he liked, and what he liked was you.

현진

Relation: Friend of a friend

❥ The collection was growing day by day and Hyunjin was getting more and more bold with every move he made. He never got the real thing because girls just weren't interested in him with his long hair, glasses, and pretty round eyes; so this was the best he'd get.

❥ He'd started sleeping over more often, using Felix as a reason to even be there in the first place. You two were close, he was close with the Australian - so he was automatically invited too, right? Right! And when he was over at your house and you were distracted playing a game with Felix, well - what was Hyunjin to do but go through your drawers and find something to take home with him?

❥ He's got favorites, of course. Anything pink is by far at the top of his 'I want this' list, stealing a lacy pair the first time he came over - then two more pair, one set seamless and the other covered in cherries, the next time he visited. Luckily for you, he doesn't stay the night at your place too often, or you'd be running out of underwear constantly with how he's stealing them left and right.

❥ But Hyunjin swears he's seen you stealing glances at him here and there, so... maybe if you knew he was using them to jerk himself off every night or sleeping with them curled up near his face so he could rest with your scent right beside him, you'd be more open to just handing him a pair to keep.

❥ It's only a matter of time before he starts taking the used ones.

한

Relation: College Roommates

❥ Jisung can't help the way he's just so... submissive? Around you?

❥ Let me explain. Jisung's developed a real bad habit of acting like he needs help from you when you're around because if he needs help, you'll touch him. He'll eat messier than normal so you'll wipe his lips clean for him - and yes, he'll practically come in his pants at the feeling of your thumb so close to slipping in his mouth - or he'll almost act as if he doesn't know how to do something so you'll hold his hands while you explain or hold onto him as you help him learn how to do something. Even if he's just faking being a bit of a himbo so you'll help him.

❥ And one of the reasons he gets away with this ^ so easily? Is because he's a known loser around campus and he's constantly teased for it. And you..? Well, you're the pretty girl who takes pity on him.

❥ His favorite is when you come to check on him at night or peek in to see if he's sleeping before you shower. He'll hum out that his head hurts or that his back aches from training all day or working out - and you'll comb his hair through your fingers or rub your hands down his back until he's falling asleep under your touch. And while, yes, it does help him sleep in the long run - it also makes him rock hard. The moment you leave the room after he 'falls asleep' he's rutting his hips down against the mattress and whimpering your name into his pillow.

필릭스

Relation: Best friend's brother

❥ Felix is affectionate with everyone he's close to. But you -- you're beautiful, and soft, and your tits are just so...

❥ Call him a loser if you want - he knows it's what he is. A desperate, shy, sweet angel who's booksmart and tries way too hard to be cool, who hangs around the pretty, popular girl because she's his sister's best friend. Just the precious little brother who sees that gorgeous girl once or twice a week at his home and takes it as an opportunity to hang around her; Hugging onto you, burying his face in your neck, cuddling up close during movies.

❥ And you let him cling to you because 1) He's hot, and 2) You know it's the only touch from a woman he'll ever get. And you suppose you don't mind the way his hands wander over your body when he swears he's just cuddling close and getting comfortable. You're pretty sure he doesn't realize you know he's feeling you up and groping every curve of your body, but. Ignorance is bliss.~

승민

Relation:

❥ It starts as an accident.

❥ Seungmin's hand caught in your hair when he laid it on your back and as he pulled away, his ring caught and pulled. He'd moved away so fast it had been enough to make your head lull back, a gasp and yell of pain and laughter falling from your lips as you reach to push his arm away.

❥ And Seungmin... -- God. He's weak in the knees. He spots the way your mouth falls open, your nose crinkles and eyes close at the feeling of your hair being pulled. And he knows in that moment that he needs to see you like that again.

❥ So he does it as a joke; subtle and cautious about it at first. You'll play fight or bicker about anything and Seungmin will pull your hair, fingers fisted tight in the strands until his hand was so close to your scalp that he had full control of your head. On one instance he had pulled you close until his face was inches from yours, cocking a brow and listening to you whine about how tight he was holding onto your hair - and another, you'd dropped forward into his lap in laughter while he was still holding onto you and he swore he almost shot a load in his boxers. That was the closest a woman had ever been to his hips - And if you didn't feel the way his cock twitched against the side of your face, it would've been a miracle.

아이엔

Relation: Close friends

❥ Jeongin loves being a little mean to you because you're the only woman in his life who will let him get away with it.

❥ You're one of his closest friends, even if he's kind of lame and everyone looks down on him for being the youngest in his group - and you're the one who openly bickers with him, teases him, and he does it all back to you and you take it, which surprises him a little bit. You let him pull on you and wrestle with you or cling to you when he's tired, even if he's all sweaty and gross. But sometimes the wrestling or bickering turns to pushing and pulling on each other until you're both on the floor and he's holding you down while you're kicking to be free.

❥ The first time he spanks you, all he remembers is the way you cry out and feeling of your ass against his palm. He plays it off by laughing because that's what you do, completely disregarding it and brushing it off before spanking him as well in retaliation - and he lets it happen. Not because he's into it, but because he's too distracted with trying to figure out how to hide the fact that he's so hard it hurts.

❥ He's going to need more of that feeling in the future. He knows he does - so he does it again to test the waters and when you, once again, laugh at it and take it as play-fighting, he dares to go further. These days the two of you are always slapping at each other's arms and thighs and ass - but if he's feeling really bold he'll slap your tits and sometimes, your face. Gently, of course, little taps here and there when it comes to your cheeks. And each time you take it in stride with giggles and slapping him in return, while he gets off to it later that evening in the bathroom stall after practice, remembering the way you feel under his palms when he spanks you.

❥ And that's how Jeongin discovered his impact play kink.

Permanent Taglist :

@dwaekkicidal @jabmastersurpriseee @possum-playground

@thatonedarkskinnedsiren @oc3anfloor @theyadorevalerie

@jeonginsleftcheek @felixleftchickennugget @byeon-bae

[txttletale]

hey what’s up, i think you’re pretty cool but disagree with you on the whole ai can make art thing. to me, without the purpose from an actual person creating the piece, it’s not art but an image; as all human art has purpose. some driving factor in a work, compared to a program which purely creates the prompt without further intention. i was wondering what your insight on this is? either way, hope you have a great day

well, first of all, does art require 'purpose'? there's this view of art which has very much calcified in "anti-AI" rhetoric, that art is some linear process of communication from one individual to another: an Artist puts some Meaning into a unit of Art, which others can then view to Recieve that Meaning. you can hold this view, but i don't! i'm much more of a stuart hall-head on this, i think that there is no such transfusion of Intent and that rather the 'meaning' of a piece is something that exists only in the interplay between text and reader. reading is an active, interpretative process of decoding, not a passive absorptive one. so i dispute, firstly, that 'purpose' is to begin with a necessary or even imporant element of art.

moreover i think this argument rests on a very arbitrarily selective view of what counts as "an actual person creating the piece" -- 'the prompt' is, itself, an obvious artistic contribution, a place where an artist can impart huge amounts of direction, vision, and so on. in fact, i completely reject the claim of both the technology's salesman and its biggest detractors that genAI "makes art" -- to quote kerry mitchell's fractal art manifesto: "Turn a computer on and leave it alone for an hour. When you come back, no art will have been generated." in the past, i've posed questions about generative art pieces to demonstrate this

secondly, of course, the process does not end after image generation from prompt for serious generative artists--the ones who are serious about the artform (rather than tech guys trying to do marketing for the Magical Art Box) frequently iterate and iterate, generating a range of iterations and then picking one to iterate on further, so on and so forth, until the final image they choose to share is one that contains within it the traces of a thousand discrete choices on behalf of the artist (two pretty good explanations of this from people who actually do this stuff can be found here and here)

third and finally, that very choice to share the image is itself an artistic decision! we (and by we, i mean, anyone who cares about what art is) have been talking about this since fountain -- display is a form of artistic intent, taking something and putting it forward and saying 'this is art' is in and of itself an artistic decision being made even if the thing itself is unaltered: see, for example, the entire discipline of 'found art'. once someone challenged me, yknow, "if you did a google search, would that be art?" and my answer to that is, if you screenshot that google search and share it as art, then yes, resoundingly yes! curation and presentation recontextualizes objects, turning them into rich texts through the simple process of reframing them. so even if you granted that genAI output is inherently random computer noise (i don't, of course) -- i still think that the act of presenting it as art makes it so.

since i assume you're not familiar with anything interesting in the medium, because the most popular stuff made with genAI is pure "lo-fi girl in ghibli style" type slop, let me share some genAI pieces (or genAI-influenced pieces) that i think are powerful and interesting:

the meat gala, rob sheridan (warning: body horror!)

secret horses (does anyone know the original source on this?)

infinite art machine, reachartwork

ethinically ambigaus, james tamagotchi

mcdonalds simpsons porn room, wayneradiotv

software greatman, everything everything (the music is completely made by the band, but genAI was partially responsible for the lyrics -- including the title and the several interesting pseudo-kennings)

i want a love like this music video, everything everything

cocaine is the motor of the modern world, bots of new york

poison the walker, roborosewatermasters (here's my analysis posts on it too)

not all of these were necessarily intended as art: but i think they are rich and fascinating texts when read that way -- they have certainly impacted me as much as any art has.

anyways, whether you agree or not, i hope this gives you some stuff to think about, thanks for sharing your thoughts :)

[hedgehog-moss]

Pls give recommendations for Odd books 🙏

Here we go, a list of literary oddity :) This post contains majestic spheres, alien taxonomies, cruel subway polytheism, a fourth-dimensional cat, disturbing earthworms, infinite space football, existential mussel terror, a Parisian absurdist time loop, and a picture of a telegraph-pole-man-cheetah. I'm not exactly recommending these books, in the sense that I won't take any complaints if you find them more odd than good, and some of them transcend the concepts of good and bad anyway.

• The Other City, Michal Ajvaz. It's all like this:

• Contes du demi-sommeil, Marcel Béalu ('Half-asleep tales') —is the book that prompted my post about stories that have no ambition or justification beyond being odd. I'm sad that it hasn't been translated :( One of the tales is about a strange opaline sphere that rolls on the road. It doesn't accelerate when the road becomes a steep slope but continues rolling majestically. At one point it floats away towards the sky. Someone wonders if it was the moon. Someone else says authoritatively "It was an angel's egg." Everyone is reassured by this explanation. The whole thing feels exactly like remembering a dream you had. There is also a man who reads too much and whose body atrophies so only his head is left and his wife puts it in an egg cup for better stability.

• Leonora Carrington— The Skeleton's Holiday, or maybe the Hearing Trumpet. I've read them so long ago but I think the latter is the one with the old ladies and nuns? There's also a guy who was murdered in his bath by a still-life painter because he said there was a carrot in one of his paintings, but it might not have been a carrot? It's hard to remember details from this book without feeling like I might be making them up. Bonus Leonora Carrington painting which kind of feels like a short story:

• The Codex Seraphinianus, of course. I wish there were more bizarre encyclopaedias out there.

Also I love this review:

• Sleep Has His House, Anna Kavan —I really liked the way this book used language; making life feel like a fever dream even more than in Samanta Schweblin's Fever Dream (which I really liked too.)

The eye is checking a record of silence, space; a nightmare, every horror of this world in its frigid and blank neutrality. The actual scope of its orbit depends on the individual concept of desolation, but approximate symbols are suggested in long roving perspectives of ocean, black swelled, in slow undulation, each whaleback swell plated in armour-hard brilliance with the moonlight clanking along it . . .

• The second half of Michael Ende's Neverending Story, where things get stranger! I remember the hand-shaped castle with eyes and the city of amnesiac former emperors and the miserable ugly worms who cry all the time out of shame then create beautiful architecture with their tears...

• The Gray House, Mariam Petrosyan. This is the one I had in mind when I talked about a 'museum of the strange, but one you wouldn't want to be trapped in after closing time'. Another book that made me feel uncomfortable in a similar (good) way was Edward Carey's Observatory Mansions, the protagonist of which is a man who curates an odd private museum and can't stand the sight of his own hands.

• Oh, speaking of uncomfortable, and hands—He Digs A Hole, by Danger Slater. To me this book was in the more-odd-than-good category but I liked its refusal to have a coherent philosophical meaning. It's about a man who can't sleep so he goes to his garden shed and saws off his hands and replaces them with gardening tools. Then he starts digging a hole. And then it gets weird. (Read at your own discretion if you have a worm phobia; there's some body horror featuring sexually aggressive earthworms. And then it gets disturbing.)

• 17776 — Someone sent me an ask a few years back to recommend this online multimedia narrative to me and I really enjoyed it! Here's the summary, borrowed from the wiki page: Set in the distant future in which all humans have become immortal and infertile, the series follows three sapient space probes that watch humanity play an evolved form of American football in which games can be played for millennia over distances of thousands of miles. The work explores themes of consciousness, hope, despair, and why humans play sports.

• Saint-Glinglin, Raymond Queneau —the author admitted that this book presents some "internal discontinuities." I didn't like it much but I respect the talent it takes to write a novel where everything feels like a random digression, including the key suspenseful scene that matters to the plot. The one digression I loved had to do with the way the narrator is existentially horrified by various sea creatures. It's like he dreads them so much he can't help but think about them when he should be telling a story.

The oyster... This gob of phlegm, this brutal way of refusing the outside world, this absolute isolation, and this disease: the pearl... If I conceptualise them even a little, my terror starts anew. The mussel is even more significant than the oyster and even more immediately admissible in the domain of terror. Let us indeed consider that this little sticky mass whose collective stupidity haunts our piers, consider that it is alive in the same way as a cow. Because there are no degrees in life. There is no more or less. The whole of life is present in every animal. To think that the mussel, that the mussel has, not a conscience, but a certain way of transcending itself: here I am once again plunged into abysses of anxiety and insecurity.

Near the beginning he philosophises about what would happen if a man and a lobster were the only two survivors of the apocalypse. The lobster would break the man's toe and the man would say, "We are the only beings that remain on this devastated Earth, lobster! The only living beings in the universe, struggling alone against the universal disaster, don't you want to be allies?" But the lobster would disdainfully walk away towards the ocean, and "the sight of the inflexible and imperturbable lobster pierces the sky of humanity with its unintelligible claws." (I can't overstate how little this has to do with the rest of the book.)

• Autumn in Beijing, Boris Vian —needless to say the story does not take place in autumn nor in Beijing.* To the extent that it can be said to be "about" something, it's about people trying to build a train station in a desert with tracks that lead nowhere. (I just went on goodreads to check the title, and it's actually called Autumn in Peking in English. I also discovered that it was featured in a list of Books I Regret Reading. I liked this book, but I understand.)

(* French writers love doing this—like when Alphonse Allais said about his 1893 book The Squadron's Umbrella "I chose this title because there aren't any umbrellas of any sort in this volume, and the important notion of the squadron, as a unit of the armed forces, is never brought up at all; in these conditions, hesitating would have been pure madness.")

• The Library at Mount Char, Scott Hawkins—I fear this one makes a little too much sense for this list, but you can't say it isn't weird; and I loved it and recommend it any chance I get.

• The Eleven Million Mile High Dancer, Carol Hill —this book was so wacky and made me laugh. I've not yet managed to successfully recommend it to someone; its brand of odd didn't resonate with the people I know who've read it but that's okay. You could say it's about a woman astronaut whose weird cat disappears into the fourth dimension (or the quantum realm?) and she goes to space to save him—but that makes the book sound more straightforward and less messy than it is. Her cat leaves her a note before he disappears:

• The Bald Soprano, Ionesco —fun fact, there's a tiny theatre in the Latin Quarter in Paris where this absurdist play has been staged every night for nearly 70 years, with the exact same set design and costumes and everything, like the actors are stuck in a time loop. They celebrated the 20,000th performance this year! There's an actress who has been playing her character for 40 years and said joining this theatre was like joining a religion. I've been going to see this play as a New Year tradition with my best friend since we were 14, so I love it madly, though I wouldn't say it's good, necessarily—the author said it was about "absolutely nothing, but a superior nothing."

• Statuary Gardens; or Les Mers perdues (apparently not translated) by Jacques Abeille. This man is obsessed with weird statues. Unfortunately I find his writing style rather dull—I feel like he takes strange ideas and makes them feel mundane in a bad way...! But his books still have a nice, quiet, oneiric atmosphere, and images that stayed with me, like a solitary gardener trying to grow stone statues in the depleted soil of a walled garden. Here are some illustrations from the second one:

I'll look into some of the books recommended on my previous post! (and I agree with the people who brought up Cortázar, Borges, and Junji Ito. <3) Some potentially-odd books I have on my to-read list: Clive Barker's Abarat, Goran Petrović's An Atlas Traced by the Sky, Salvador Plascencia's The People of Paper, Jean Ray's Malpertuis; Jan Weiss's The House of a Thousand Floors; Brice Tarvel's Pierre-Fendre.

[yuu-kantokusei]

Happy birthday, dear Prefect! 🎉✨️

POV: Twst characters (NRC, Grim, Rollo, Che'nya, Neige, Fellow/Ernesto, Skully, STAFF) wishing you a very wonderful "Happy birthday!"

PS: when it's your birthday, come here and let your favourite character to wish you fantastic wishes~

A/N: today is my birthday, so I decided to celebrate with my favourite boys because i love them so much and I wish them to be real

Heartslabyul

Riddle Rosehearts

“Happy birthday, Prefect. As per Rule #256 of the Heartslabyul Dorm, any individual celebrating a birthday must be properly honored with respect and festivity. I personally ensured today's preparations met the highest standards. I trust you'll enjoy the tea party we've arranged. Have a splendid day—you’ve earned it.”

Ace Trappola

“Heeey, Prefect! Happy birthday! Look, I didn’t even mess up the gift this time. Bet you’re surprised, huh? Anyway, let’s ditch the formal stuff and just have fun today. No weird rules or lectures from Riddle—just vibes!”

Deuce Spade

"Uh, Prefect! Happy birthday! I hope you like my gift. I wasn't sure what to get, so I asked Trey for help. Anyway, I promise to do my best to make today stress-free. You deserve it!”

Cater Diamond

"Prefect~! Smile for the Magicam! Gotta capture this special day, right? Happy birthday! Don't worry, I'll make sure today is totally picture-perfect. I even curated a playlist just for you!"

Trey Clover

“Happy birthday, Prefect. I baked a cake—your favorite flavor, I hope. If not, we can always make another one. Birthdays are meant for indulgence, after all.”

Savanaclaw

Leona Kingscholar

“Tch, birthdays are such a hassle... But since it’s your day, I guess I’ll play along. Don’t expect me to sing or anything, though. Anyway, happy birthday, herbivore. Do whatever makes you happy.”

Ruggie Bucchi

“Heeey, Prefect! Happy birthday! You better eat up—no wasting food, okay? Oh, and if you need a hand carrying all your presents, I gotcha. For a small fee, of course!”

Jack Howl

“Happy birthday, Prefect. I don’t usually get involved in celebrations, but today’s special for you, so I’m in. If anyone messes with your day, just say the word—I’ll handle it.”

Octavinelle

Azul Ashengrotto

“Ah, Prefect, our esteemed guest of honor. Happy birthday. Consider today an exception—no contracts, no negotiations. Just a day for you to enjoy yourself, courtesy of Mostro Lounge. Don't forget to savor the special limited-edition menu I curated for your celebration.”

Jade Leech

“Happy birthday, Prefect. What a delightful occasion. I trust today will be filled with pleasant surprises—some orchestrated by me, of course. Enjoy every moment.”

Floyd Leech

“Shrimpy-chaaan! Happy birthday! Let’s ditch all the boring stuff and do something fun! Oh, oh—what do you say to a wrestling match? I’ll go easy on ya since it’s your big day.”

Scarabia

Kalim Al-Asim

“Prefect! Happy birthday, my best friend! I’ve got a huge party planned—there’s music, dancing, and tons of food! I hope it’s the best birthday you’ve ever had. Come on, let’s go celebrate!”

Jamil Viper

“Happy birthday, Yuu. Don’t worry—I made sure Kalim didn’t go too overboard this time. I personally cooked the dishes for today, so I hope you enjoy them. Relax and have a good time.”

Pomefiore

Vil Schoenheit

“Ah, Prefect. How fortunate you are to celebrate your birthday in the presence of true beauty. I trust you’ll take extra care to look your best today—after all, every moment should be picture-worthy. Happy birthday.”

Rook Hunt

“Bonne fête, mon cher Trickster! Such radiance, such elegance on this special day! Ah, how splendid it is to witness your growth. I shall ensure every moment of today is worthy of poetry.”

Epel Felmier

“Hey, happy birthday, Prefect! Let’s make today wild, okay? None of that fancy frou-frou stuff Vil’s always talking about. Just good ol' fun!”

Ignihyde

Idia Shroud

“Ugh, social events... But, uh, since it’s your birthday, I guess I can make an exception. Happy birthday, Prefect. I even logged off my game for this—you're welcome.”

Ortho Shroud

“Happy birthday, Prefect! I calculated exactly 112 different activities to make today perfect. Let’s start with your favourite treats and work our way up to the surprise!”

Diasomnia

Malleus Draconia

“Ah, Child of man, it is your birthday today? How wonderful. A most sacred occasion indeed. I have brought you a gift—something rare and precious from Briar Valley. May this day be as unforgettable as your presence in my life.”

Lilia Vanrouge

“Happy birthday, Prefect! I’m so excited to celebrate with you. I’ve prepared a special meal—don’t be shy, have a bite! Hmm? Why do you look so hesitant?”

Sebek Zigvolt

“HUMAN! I—er, Happy Birthday! The young master himself has taken time to acknowledge your day, so you must be grateful! …But, truly, I hope it’s a fantastic day for you.”

Silver

“Happy birthday, Prefect. I hope your day is peaceful and filled with joy... Though I may fall asleep halfway through the celebration. Still, I wish you the best.”

~BONUS~

Grim

“Nyahahaha! Prefect, aren’t ya glad I’m the first one to say it? Happy birthday, minion! Let’s celebrate by eating lots of tuna and cake—and by cake, I mean MY share too!”

Rollo Flamme

“Though I normally detest such frivolities, I suppose it would be rude not to extend my regards... Happy birthday, Prefect. May this year bring you wisdom—and better taste in associates.”

Che'nya

“Heehee~ Happy birthday, Prefect! You look extra cute today! Or maybe it’s just me? Hmm, guess we’ll never know! Let’s see if I can pop by your celebration later... or disappear midway, who knows?”

Neige LeBlanche

“Oh my goodness, Prefect! Happy birthday! I hope today is filled with joy, laughter, and love! You deserve to be treated like royalty—just like a fairytale ending.”

Skully J. Graves

"Happy birthday, lovely Prefect. Life’s a journey, full of twists and turns, but you’ve got the guts to handle it. Keep walking your path with that steady resolve of yours and if you ever need a hand or some guidance, I’m around. Have a good one, yeah?”

Fellow Honest

“Heh, well now, sugarcube, happy birthday! I reckon you’ve been through a lot, so how ‘bout a deal to sweeten up the day? Only good surprises, I promise... this time.”

Dire Crowley

“Ah, my precious and most beloved magicless student! Happy birthday! As your humble headmaster, I insist that you accept this fabulous celebration I orchestrated personally—well, mostly! All for you!”

Divus Crewel

“Happy birthday, pup. I expect you to carry yourself with even more flair and refinement as you age. And don’t you dare let those unruly brats ruin your look today.”

Mozus Trein

“Ah, Prefect. Happy birthday. Remember, age brings wisdom—but only to those who study diligently. Now, do enjoy yourself.”

Ashton Vargas

“Happy birthday! Strength and stamina are key to a fulfilling life—so drop and give me twenty! Just kidding. Enjoy your special day, champ!”

Sam

“Hey, hey~ Happy birthday, my little imp! I’ve got just the thing for your special day—come by the shop later for a surprise on the house!”

[angrythingstarlight]

Bumblebee inspo!

So stylish! Was this Bee or Enzo's doing? 😂

Pairing: Mafia!Bucky x Reader, daughter nicknamed Bumblebee

WC: Drabble.

A/N: Written on my phone, unbetad.

Enzo has never worked harder in his life.

He's styled mobsters, socialites, and dignitaries, all while skillfully navigating around their demanding personalities, inflated egos, and time constraints that can turn a simple process into something complicated. He thrives off that. Lives for it. His own ego boosted by exceeding their expectations.

Enzo is the best in this industry. He is the standard. Just ask him. He doesn't follow fashion trends, he creates them.

No one is better than Enzo.

His unrivaled reputation is built on his ability to keep his clients dressed in timeless, luxurious pieces while curating individualized styles that make them stand out from everyone else.

And all his hard work is being tested by a toddler.

She's both his sweetest and most challenging client.

"Ms. Barnes, this material is imported from Varese. I designed and hand crafted this myself. The stitching is immaculate. It goes perfectly with the outfit Donatalle sent over for you. Your Tar–" Enzo presses a handkerchief to his mouth, fighting the bile rising in his throat as he struggles to get the offensive word past his lips. "Apologies. Your Target coat can't begin to compare to this."

He'll never forgive you for taking her to that place.

Bee grins, smoothing her hands down her pink and black jacket. "It's pwetty. Mommy boughts it for me."

That's what she said about the leggings, the shoes and her dress. He's lost every battle. He can't even properly argue with her because Pakhan, her father, will have his head if he upsets the toddler. She's confident in her choices. And stubborn.

Enzo was hoping that particular Barnes trait would have skipped her.

But alas, here he is, resorting to begging and bribery—because he will not let her leave this shop in department store clothes. He cannot have her showing up to fashion week in anything less than an Enzo exclusive. Panic flares up when he glances at her unbothered expression. He convinced Senator Stark to stop wearing tracksuits damn it—he can convince a toddler to wear Versace.

"I will make your Tato another costume if you simply try on the clothes I picked out for you," Enzo states, holding up the jacket he made. Bee already rejected his offer to buy her coat. She said she had enough of her "Papa's monies." He almost wept. Now, his hope hinges on a stuffed dino.

"You makes him two?" She counters, earning a proud smile from Bucky. The Pakhan has been quietly working on his phone, only occasionally chuckling as Enzo becomes more and more frantic.

"Yes," he quickly says. "As many as you want."

Enzo doesn't breathe until she comes out of the dressing room, spins around in front of the mirror, and says she loves her outfit. In the end, it was the shiny, 'pwetty' shoes that won her over.

When the Pakhan and mafia princess finally left his shop to go to the first fashion show, Enzo pours himself a shot of vodka and celebrates his hard-earned victory.

Then it hits him. He still has to dress her for the rest of fashion week. Her outfits need to be on par with her parents. The three of you may be mafia royalty, but you all represent him (according to Enzo anyway). It's a challenge he looks forward to.

He pours another shot, grabs his sketchbook, and prepares for battle.

[valalice]

જ⁀➴ FOR THE FAME. a violet modern musician au

punk rockstar!vi 𝑥 popstar!reader

summary. the music industry—known for its raw creativity, dazzling performances, and turning anyone into an overnight sensation. but what comes with newfound success is being able to maintain a steady stream of traction around your name (whether it's good or bad, because all press is good press. right?), for some artists it comes naturally, becoming chart climbers release after release, while for others they struggle falling down the charts and becoming known as just a one hit wonder. now, when two artists under the same label are both getting sly criticism from blogs commenting on their declines, their managers have no other choice but to curate a classic pr stunt to regain their public appeal again, while creating buzz around their respective upcoming projects. what could happen when the industry's rebel and sweetheart become the unexpected pair of the year?

warnings. fluff, angst, and eventual smut. modern au. fake dating. enemies to friends to lovers. slow burn. reader's stage name is angel, you guys can honestly change it if you'd so like since it's rarely used. no use of "y/n". musicians: powder, ekko, claggor, and caitlyn. choreographer!mel. producer!jayce. homophobia and talk of internalized homophobia & comphet. addiction: alcohol & substance abuse, as well as talk of rehab. inaccurate knowledge of the music industry. social media extras & extended scene cuts. please check each individual chapter for appropriate warnings!

a/n. i'm am beyond excited to finally share this series with you all! this series started as a one off idea, and, well it turned into this. i know some have expected this, i've been throwing out teasers (more will still come) for some time. and to be honest i should not even be posting this series right now, but i cannot contain it for much longer, i'm just eager to get it out for people to enjoy! and is it hypocritical for me to be posting a series with the amount of drafts and request in my inbox? perhaps! but i promise that i will try my best to dually post between the series and other works! i'm still working on a posting schedule, so be on the look out for polls!

biggest thank you to @topimpabunny for dealing with my rants constantly, and bouncing ideas back and forth off of each other. truly, everyone thank her, because without her this series wouldn't even exist! another big big thank you to @veramores my wife, my best friend, for putting up with me yapping her ear away for like over an over. but nonetheless she is also apart of this series for giving me different perspectives on things. lots of love to the both of you <3

main masterlist ⋆ vi masterlist ⋆ read it on ao3

table of contents ◞ TRACKLIST

' 🅴 ' indicates smut

prelude ♪ popularity contest.

label mandated events. everyone dreads them, but social networking is a must; an art form managers have mastered and a sport to artists in order to thrive in the competitiveness that is the music industry. and it’s here where the two of you were closer than you had even thought.

track one ♪ sold your soul for . . . this? ( releasing february 14th on all music platforms )

with albums set to release during the summertime, meetings ensue to keep the artists on track. however, unpleasant news is shared that gives wake up calls when careers are on the line. oh, and a not-so-meet-cute happens between the bubbling popstar and spunky rocker.

track two ♪ the master plan.

uh, oh! looks like the track is still being produced!

extras ◞ DELUX EDITION

social media post

coming soon!

exposed ◞ BEHIND THE SCENES

discography ⋮ series playlist. reader's. vi's.

meet the artist ⋮ reader ꒱ vi

WANT A FEATURE?

comment on this post (and this post only) to be added to the 'for the fame' taglist! (i'm no longer responding to individually to each person who asks to be on the taglist, but i do see the comments and you are added!)

[arouravis]

✳︎ 𝟶𝟹 𝙰𝚂𝚃𝚁𝙾𝙻𝙾𝙶𝚈 𝙾𝙱𝚂𝙴𝚁𝚅𝙰𝚃𝙸𝙾𝙽𝚂: 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚘𝚗𝚊𝚕 𝚎𝚡𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎!

✿: 𝚖𝚢 𝚊𝚜𝚔 𝚋𝚘𝚡 𝚒𝚜 𝚘𝚙𝚎𝚗, 𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜e 𝚛𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝙸 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚌𝚞𝚜𝚜 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚖𝚢 𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚐, 𝚒𝚝 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚋𝚎 𝚐𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚕𝚢 𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚒𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚍!

𝚂𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚗 𝚒𝚗 𝟷𝟸 𝙷𝚘𝚞𝚜𝚎 / 𝙲𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎𝚛 𝚂𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚗 𝚒𝚗 𝟷𝟸𝚝𝚑 𝙷𝚘𝚞𝚜𝚎:

These people have probably grown up with their mother/father, being their biggest bully in life. Or their parents have made them feel inadequate to a subconscious level. These people could also have religious trauma tied to their parents, or feel a sense of guilt for not continuing to believe in said religion, and the parents do not like that. I feel for these people, their parents' approval and blessing are something they either take very seriously or don't.

Like I said before, their parents' approval can be deeply ingrained within them, and they can have a hard time getting out of their system. They can do many things to try and feel as if the matter to their parents, but no matter how hard they try, they genuinely don't feel good enough.

These people can also have issues regarding tapping into knowing about their divine feminine attributes, or unlocking a more profound and emotional part of themselves that is lost within them. They are usually individuals who deeply yearn for the feeling of parental love, and tend to try and give that love to others because they know that everyone is deserving and entitled to it.

𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝙵𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚞𝚗𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝟷𝟶𝚝𝚑 𝙷𝚘𝚞𝚜𝚎:

Made for success, everything they touch is gold. Effortlessly good at what they do.

These people are absolutely made for success, someone you would definitely like to have by your side within business ventures. Usually, the type of people who like to go solo on creative projects, everything that they do is curated specifically to their name, and they know that the presence and style they give out to the public is authentic to them and only them, and is something unique that no one has ever seen before.

They are very hardworking and driven to finish any project they get their hands on, and can be known to be multi-faceted individuals. They have their hands in as many projects as they once did. Good leaders who are passionate about what they believe is not only the best for them, but the best for the team/company overall.

𝚂𝚞𝚗 𝚒𝚗 𝟾𝚝𝚑 𝙷𝚘𝚞𝚜𝚎:

Soft spoken individuals who are known to be quite shy and timid. Usually, depending on other placements, these people can be absolute sweethearts! Deep down very caring individuals who only wan the best for everyone around them, a great team player.

On the other hand, these people may have deep-rooted issues within themselves that they are scared to/will come to light. Or, they have a strong yearning to be someone else entirely from who they perceive themselves to be. They might feel as if they have a hard time finding a crowd that is for them, or having a hard time facing the other person who looks at them back in the mirror.

They feel as if the person that they want to be, or the person that they are, is deep within them, and that may or may not be able to come out.

For example, think of the genie from Aladdin, whose purpose was to serve others and be trapped inside a rubbing lamp for all of eternity until said otherwise. But deep down, the genie knew that his purpose in life wasn't to serve others; he knew he was all-powerful and knew he deserved to act like it and had desires of leaving the lamp and exploring the world from his own point of view.

These people must understand that they will only seek pleasure in life once they face the desires that they wish to have within the physical world. And once they desire to understand the depth that they mirror within themselves.

𝚅𝚎𝚗𝚞𝚜 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝟷𝚜𝚝 𝙷𝚘𝚞𝚜𝚎:

Known to be naturally beautiful at face value, but at times this is the only thing they are valued for. Sexual assault.

These people are known to be very conventionally attractive individuals. Effortlessly attracting people from left to right with ease, platonic or romantic... doesn't matter. But, the people they attract aren't always good. These people are known to only be valued at physical-face value. Sadly, some of these individuals have been known to go through some sort of sexual assault within their lives.

I feel that when people have this placement, they can be heavily fetishized and only seen within a sexual lens. Only being people who can be pressured into doing sexual things that they do not want to do, only being their person that they potentially engage in sexual acts with, only wants to try out their sexual fantasies/kinks on them.

For example, a friend of mine has this placement, and she is a poc, the guy that she was in sexual relations with suggested they do raceplay, and other kinks that she wasn't too comfortable doing. And she felt pressured to do them because her partner wouldn't let up on trying to do those things to her.

𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝙵𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚞𝚗𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝟷𝟸𝚝𝚑 𝙷𝚘𝚞𝚜𝚎:

These individuals were meant to seek spiritual clarity and do deep introspection within their spiritual journey. These people are most likely individuals who have sought religion for a higher sense of clarity and purpose within their lives, and this religion is something that is deeply ingrained within their natural ways of life. They are the type of people to actually go out of their way to truly understand their religion/spiritual practice instead of blindly accepting it for what it is.

These people truly understand what the spiritual journey is, and know the journey of the spirit is a lifelong venture that should be implemented within out lives in a certain manner. If they are not religious, these people are very much into the magical and occult. Very devoted to the spiritual aspect of life.

[tthoroughfare]

garden daisy (part 3) // ellie williams

*･゜ﾟ･* summary: things are sort of back to normal. ellie lends you the fuck ass gray hoodie, and you do what you will with it.

*･゜ﾟ･* pairing: modern!ellie x reader

*･゜ﾟ･* content: nsfw. masturbation and fantasizing, you're a loser

*･゜ﾟ･* length: 2.6k

this is part three of this series! find part one here

masterlist

i'm back for real!! thank you for your patience while i took a break. i don't wanna lose my momentum with writing so if anyone has any requests for blurbs feel free to let me know. i really love the way this part turned out, i hope you do too :)

for a little while, you feel comforted by your half-admission. you note that ellie, subconsciously or otherwise, draws back towards you. she starts planning more things for the two of you again, stops talking about haley so much.

while you feel a selfish relief, something still feels off. you get pangs of guilt out of nowhere, hoping she’s doing it because she wants to and not simply because she doesn’t want to upset you. she’s a selfless pacifist when it comes to your friendship, never wanting to disturb the balance. you’ve barely had three arguments the whole time you’ve known each other, each over pathetic things, each ending with her crawling back and settling herself at the side of you, quipping an ellie version of an apology.

while her pride would always get in the way of the words i’m sorry actually coming out of her mouth, you knew what she was trying to say. she’d always show, never tell.

you also feel guilty for lying to her. try to soothe yourself by saying you’re not lying, just not telling her the whole truth. is lying by omission still as bad as regular lying? you can’t decide. 

still, it feels a million times better than the anxiety clenching at your chest whenever you entertain the concept of telling her.

“no jacket?” ellie’s voice sounds as she emerges from down the hall, breaking your train of thought.

you snap out of it, glancing down at yourself. maybe not layering in early spring was a risky one; regardless, you’re too lazy to walk back to your room. “nah, last time they were blasting the hot air in there. and we’re only walking to and from the car, right?”

“your call,” she shrugs, shoving her wallet into her backpack and picking up her keys. “ready?”

“yessir.”

the drive to the nearest cinema is a short one, ellie nevertheless deliberating on which playlist to choose for the equivalent of half the journey.

“bro, just pick one,” you groan, head falling back against the seat as you watch her flick through spotify. “coulda’ fucking been there by now.”

“jesus, my bad for trying to curate the vibe.”

“you’re so stupid,” you reply, but the fond sheen in your eye and the way your mouth curves gives you away. “who says ‘curate the vibe’?”

“uh… me? thank you very much.” she catches your eye briefly as she finally hits play, putting her old ford into reverse and backing out of her spot.

“the only vibe you’re curating is that pink monstrosity dina got you for christmas.”

her nose scrunches as she lets out a chuckle, checking either side for traffic before pulling out of your building’s parking lot. “shut up.”

taking a pause, your gaze flits between your hands and ellie’s profile. you keep your tone light, teasing. “you actually used that thing?”

ellie answers without thinking. “nah, it sucks. it’s, like, a cheap ass battery powered one. i think she got it from a corner store.”

“damn. didn’t realize you were so picky about your… vibes,” you jest, noticing the way her freckled cheeks flower a light dusting of pink at the topic. despite your closeness, you never really talked about sex. “what’s wrong with battery powered?”

“nothing, just…” she trails off with a small shrug, laughing uncomfortably.

it’s hard not to continue poking at her when she gets like this. while a somewhat awkward individual, there aren’t many subjects that make ellie squirm. “is this why there’s an aux cable plugged in next to your bed?”

“stop.”

“what? i’m intrigued.” sitting back and folding your arms, you tut. “thought you were trying to play music through the walls.”

“i will turn the motherfucking car around,” she deadpans, unable to keep her act up when she takes her eyes off the road for a split-second to meet your gaze. the both of you share a laugh, ellie’s face still tinged beet.

you know you’re only joking, but you have to try and ignore how the thought of it makes you feel. the way your lower stomach twists a little at the idea of ellie making herself cum in the room next to you, skin the same pretty tone of pink as it is now, muffling her sounds so you can’t hear.

readjusting yourself in the seat subconsciously, you swat the image firmly from your mind. it’s one thing to fantasize about your best friend under the shield of nighttime and solitude — another entirely while she’s right next to you.

upon arriving, you begin to question your choice of clothing. the last few times you’d been to this particular cinema, you’d dressed for warmth only for them to apparently be attempting to cook the movie-goers. this time, once you’d gotten settled in and the trailers were rolling, a chill started to permeate. you don’t think they have the heat on at all. 

classic.

you do your damndest to convince yourself you’re not cold. not only do you not want to admit to yourself you made a mistake, you don’t want to admit it to ellie. ‘well, i did say…’ her know-it-all voice chimes through your head.

however, it gets much more difficult to pay it no mind. you shuffle and reshuffle in your seat the whole first half of the movie, tucking your arms around yourself. in your peripheral, ellie’s clearly taking notice; she turns her head each time before finally leaning in. 

“you cold?”

you’re stubborn, pausing before answering, avoiding looking at her. “no. these seats just suck. not comfortable.”

“dude, you’re cold,” she scoffs quietly. you think she’s just making to sit back again, until you realize she’s slipping her arms out of her hoodie. 

“no, no, it’s fine,” you whisper, resting the back of your hand on her upper arm to try and stop her. of course she doesn’t listen, tugging it off all the way and holding it out.

“it’s fine, i have my jacket.” when you don’t do anything, she shoves it gently into your hands with a smirk. “if you aren’t cold, don’t put it on.”

pulling a face at her, you relent to the playful challenge. ellie’s smell, the one you’ve grown to associate with home, envelops you as the fabric passes over your face. it’s still warm from her wearing it, the goosebumps prickling at your arms soothed.

satisfied, she grabs her jacket from the empty seat at the side of her and slips it on. you almost think you’re scot-free until —

“i did say ‘no jacket?’” she mumbles at you, leaning in once more. you just keep your eyes trained on the screen, flipping her off from the armrest with an amused smile.

after the movie ends, she doesn’t ask for it back. you decide to grab food after, and she doesn’t ask for it back then either. it’s only when you get home that you tell her you’re gonna take a shower, and try to hand it over.

“just give it back whenever,” she responds, looking at her feet when she continues. “kinda… suits you more, anyway.”

her eyes flicker back up at you, then across the room. you can feel your cheeks turning red, unable to help the way a smile spreads across your face. that could mean nothing, you say to yourself. tone it down.

“what are you gonna wear in the meantime?” you joke, a meager attempt to reestablish your footing after the way her comment flustered you. “never see you in anything else.”

ellie blinks slowly, corners of her mouth twitching and shrugging lightly. you’re sure she’s blushing a little, too.

there’s another pause, one that feels heavier than normal. after a few seconds of the both of you doing your best to avoid eye contact, you speak softly as you pass her to get to the bathroom. “whatever, weirdo.”

the whole encounter replays in your head while you shower, you convincing and unconvincing yourself she was flirting ten times over. there had been strange moments like that littered throughout your entire friendship with ellie.

most notably, the time you were both fifteen and she stole a bottle of whiskey from joel, the two of you passing it back and forth on the living room floor. it was childish, each sip and grimace getting your lightweight heads fuzzier, giggles increasing in volume. at one point, you were leaning back against the sofa when she inched closer to you, resting the side of her face on the upholstery.

“i gotta tell you something,” she’d stated lowly, trying to hide the slight slur in her words. you nodded, pivoting your body to face her. you’d been so close, you could smell the liquor on her breath.

“it’s, like, totally cool if you don’t wanna be friends with me after this—“ she paused, visibly thinking before interrupting herself. “—actually, no it’s not, you’d be a really shitty person.”

that had made you laugh, a burst escaping you before you could stop it. ellie had shushed you so as to not wake joel, trying not to laugh herself. “stop. i’m trying to be serious.”

“okay, be serious.”

“uh… i, uh… damn, lot of pressure now…”

you smiled and let out a groan of her name, her floundering around both irritating and adorable.

“okay, i… uh…” she’d looked down and her face had twitched before meeting your eyes again. “i like girls.”

you remember having a funny feeling in your stomach upon finding that out. you already knew you looked at girls differently, too. maybe even ellie.

still, all you could muster was an earnest smile and a quiet, “that’s okay.”

a moment had passed, ellie fidgeting slightly and swallowing. “okay.”

something hung in the air. in your state, you’d accidentally caught yourself looking at her lips too long. and you thought she’d done the same — no, you were positive. you even thought she could have been about to lean in, eyelashes fluttering, right when the ceiling light was hit and joel’s voice rang out.

“do you know what time it is? get the hell to bed,” he’d grumbled, rubbing at his forehead. you and ellie had leapt apart, and you’d felt so guilty at the proximity you’d forgotten all about the mostly-empty bottle at your feet. 

that is, until joel had rounded the sofa and spied it, grabbing it with a sigh and muttering under his breath as he made his way to the kitchen. “jesus christ, you couldn’t have picked the cheap shit.”

you sat like a scolded dog as he placed it back in the cabinet, messing awkwardly with your hands. you didn’t look at ellie once, not sure if you’d be more nervous to see her looking away, or at you. joel had turned back around and padded over towards ellie, more frustrated than angry. “you know tommy bought that for me? was supposed to be savin’ it.”

she’d pursed her lips, sheepish. “my bad.”

everyone in the room knew he wasn’t going to get an apology out of her. so, he’d simply blown air out of his mouth after a beat, turning with a hand on his hip and the other pointed towards you. “you’re lucky i’m not gon’ call your parents.”

“thank you,” you’d replied pathetically.

“what in the hell were you thinkin’?” he stated, looking between the pair of you before shaking his head, knowing there was no point attempting to debate. “you know what, i ain’t even — just get to bed. go on.”

you hadn’t said another word to ellie that night, slept facing the wall as far away as the bed allowed. sure, you felt terrible for being caught stealing alcohol, but your spinning head was honing in on the moment before.

in the morning, you woke up to raging nausea and ellie pretending she was too drunk to remember anything. you could see through her, though.

out of the shower, you sift through your drawer for something to sleep in, yet your eyes keep falling on ellie’s hoodie atop your chair. you pull out an old t-shirt you got at a concert, fingertips brushing against the sweater underneath that was relegated to nightwear when you spilled coffee down it. you don’t want to wear either of them.

“stupid,” you murmur to yourself, grabbing a pair of shorts and slipping them on then stuffing the drawer closed. the hoodie’s swiftly tugged back over your head, light flipped off and you’re in bed before you have time to scold yourself into taking it off.

as much as you try to settle, there’s too much on your mind. too much of someone. it starts off as ruminating over if you stand a chance, culminates in imagining what could happen if you do. 

how it would feel to kiss her; plush lips you try so hard not to look at working against yours. her mouth moving downwards and tongue darting out, wet and hot against the skin of your neck.

letting out a sharp breath, you turn over onto your back. you allow a hand to slide underneath the fabric of ellie’s hoodie, gently kneading at your breast, rolling your nipple between thumb and forefinger. as you trail the fingertips of your free hand over your stomach, you give a squeeze to your waist. you tell yourself you don’t know why you did that — you know. you’re pretending it’s her hands all over you.

you’re still pretending when you dip underneath the waistband of your shorts, allowing a gasp to escape as you arrive at your clit. you’re soaked just from thinking about it. beginning a steady rhythm, your brain flashes back to the conversation before, the one where you’d been messing with ellie. the consequential images littering your mind’s eye.

what if that’s what she’s doing now, too? pressure builds as you delve back into the concept you’d so intensely shut down earlier, allowing it to take hold. thinking of her fucking herself on the other side of the wall, mouth in the crook of her elbow as she grinds her puffy clit into the pads of her fingers. forgoing that to reach for her vibrator, desperately fumbling at the buttons as she presses it between her slick lips.

you know you could make her feel so much better.

the way she’d tilt her head back as you brushed over her pussy, stopping to firmly circle at her sweet spot. the pretty noises she’d make, sighs of your name punctuated by breathy moans. the way you’d suckle at her collar, easily sliding two fingers inside and savoring how blunt fingernails dig into your shoulder.

you’re right on the edge imagining it — grabbing for your throw pillow in an attempt to mask the sounds you’re incapable of holding back, you’re met with it just beyond reach. desperate, you go for the next best thing.

balling up the fabric of the hoodie, you tug it over your mouth. the familiar scent overwhelms your already on-fire senses, a layer of immersion. as much as you’d never admit it to yourself, you know that’s what tips you over; heat spiraling until it comes crashing down, waves pulsing through you.

you twitch your way through it until you’re spent, allowing one hand to drop to your side, the other resting over your sweat-sheened forehead. the collar of the hoodie keeps its position by your mouth, your breath fanning back over you.

fuck.

you’d just wash it before you gave it back.

tags: @abbysleftbicepp @dollinrehab @liztreez @vahnilla @xaaaavleg @fatbootymuncher @sqandroct14 @yasmilks @piercedome

[irrevocablecondition]

tiktok has been having a censorship debate for like two weeks now and i need people to understand that "as long as it's not illegal" is not what we mean by fandom etiquette.

there is no ethical level of censorship because when these spaces get taken down for the "immoral subjects"? you will come down with those. when ff.net got scrubbed clean it wasn't just cest fics and proship content etc etc, it was unrelated works because there is no standard of immorality. not here. we lost tens of thousands of works because of puritanical arguments and discussions about morality, and it wasn't just the ones you're debating about.

there is no ethical level of censorship and as long as these works are tagged correctly? you cannot get mad about their existence. you can disagree! you can say you personally do not engage with them, but you Cannot say "ship and let ship until it's -" because that is not how it works.

and i'm not perfect! when i first joined online fandom spaces i was very much like "if you have to change the ages then it's disgusting" "they're related" etc etc and whilst i still don't tend to engage with those themes? we cannot be censoring them either. not without losing these spaces.

it starts with you disagreeing with these things, and it ends with queer media as a whole because there is No Ethical Censorship.

this is less a discussion about fandom etiquette, and more a discussion of Having Fandom Spaces. i beggeth you, don't be part of helping what happened to ff.net happen again 😖

don't like, don't read - including "illegal" and "immoral" things. if they're tagged correctly, you can avoid them.

we also, less of a fandom note and more just a general media note, need to explore these things. yes, there are 100% times where these things get glorified. but on a general basis? we need to explore immoral things in media. we need to explore things to understand them - i'm thinking here about well-known books like the handmaid's tale getting banned because it's Important and it Explains what's going on right now. i'm thinking about morally grey characters/historical figures and how we need to be able to look at their motivations/backstory/etc not necessarily for justification, but for understanding and prevention. even in real life cases, they look at the backstory of the individual because that is how we form and improve preventative techniques and resources.

there is no ethical level of censorship and i've been there, i know it feels good to be like "this is illegal this is bad", you feel like you're doing some good in the world but you're actually causing harm unknowingly to These Spaces.

it is 2025, we do Not need proshipper discourse right now. arguably the worst time for people to be debating what's immoral to read/write about. all censorship ends up as mass censorship, and i really need yall to understand that

block the tags, exclude them from your searches, block the people posting them. do whateverrrr you have to do to curate your own fandom space but for the love of everythingggg, don't be part of the reason we lose these spaces as a whole.

[singukieee]

—my all time favourite bts fics (pt. 2) ᯓᡣ𐭩

consists of my personal favourite bts fics that I've read countless of times. including those from other platforms, such as Wattpad, AO3, and Patreon.

For some works that are cross-posted between tumblr and wp/ao3, I'd only link them to the latters bcs I find it easier to read and navigate the stories on those. but I also tagged all the authors I know are here and linked the rest so you can check their blogs out yourself!

I'll also separate this list into several parts simply because there's too many... So it'd be easier for you guys to navigate!

red means unfinished

blue means finished

🗯️ curator's note

(sorted by alphabetical order)

Dreams of You by seoktishie

You are a theater actress who dreams of becoming a successful Broadway star. You’ve dedicated your whole life hustling for the show, surrounded by a supportive family and friends you never thought you would lose your best friend and boyfriend on the same day. This puts your dreams to a halt, and you decide to take a break and a soul-searching trip to Korea, where you meet a successful artist that reconnects your love for the arts. OR You accidentally meet Kim Namjoon of BTS, and you had no idea of how an amazing person he is nor how he is the leader of the biggest boyband to date!

🗯️ the yearning and pining *chef's kiss*

Epiphany by 2stanornot2stan

Your soulmate mark seemed self-centred to you "I'm the one I should love" Who would ever want to love someone with that as their soulmate mark?

🗯️ this one is painful. but writing's so good, doesn't fail in pulling my heartstrings.

Escapade by bonnehh_

"Where the hell am I?!" He shrieked, stumbling over his feet like a newborn deer. He was a panicking mess, spinning around in circles to see the unfamiliar sight of giant trees and bushy plants covering the land. The forest was heavily rich with greenery, vegetation and strange fruits. Fallen leaves covered the ground, creating a crunching sound after every step he took. "Calm down, Sweets." I calmly voiced amidst his loud screeches. My words cut through his mess of a mind making him freeze on his spot. Turning on his heel, he noticed me. He stumbled back immediately, possibly because I was covered in angry, red scratches and the bandages covering my arms alerted the male. "What the fudge?!!?! Who- who are you??" He shouted, alarmed by my…seemingly beaten-up figure. "I'm Diana. Welcome to the game." I smiled softly. Hoping my excitement can keep a hold of itself for the sake of keeping the man from getting scared. Dumbfounded, He could only let one word out, "Huh?". Oh boy.

🗯️ a cool one! many adventures and mc has freakishly good survival skills. this honestly cured my longing for that one fic that's no more that was also survival, adventure and game themed with slight crack. I think it was called 'Ready Player One'? (not that famous book and movie). but I think it was a translated ver of a chinese ff on another platform. Idk I still missed it very much, it was also very good. (If you know anything abt this, pls dm me!)

Ethereal by @purpleyoonn

After leaving your home in need of a fresh start, you open a bookstore with the hopes that the words you read could bring you solace. You never realized that the books you loved would bring you home instead.

🗯️ I love soulmate stories, this author also has good writing so

Euphoric Endeavours by haveagreatday

Through a series of curious happenstances, the Boys of Bangtan - your campus' most popular and most handsome group of individuals - set their sights on you, a regular student with a stubborn streak and a wayward mouth. Strangely enough, the mere sight of them sets your instincts off, red-lights flashing in your brain - danger, danger, danger, danger. It's too bad that they can't seem to leave you alone, though. They like you too much.

🗯️ enemies to lovers, anyone?

Everything Falls (Into Place) by Hiromi_20 / @blog-name-idk

"I… I might know someone who has a spare room," your brother finally muttered hesitantly. You perked up from where the couch had been swallowing you. "What! And you didn't tell me?" You accused. "You'd be living with a bunch of dudes." "Oh my god Jackson," you groaned, rolling your eyes. "The fact that you're even suggesting them means that you know them all and they're good people, right? It's not like they're gonna murder me and hide my body in the walls or something." "Well, yeah, but…" "But WHAT?" you almost screamed in frustration. "They're all… hot." Silence for several moments. Then you started guffawing uncontrollably, unladylike snorts escaping from your lips. "You are such a dork," you gasped between laughs, tears coming to your eyes. "If I promise not to let them gangbang me, will you please ask?"

🗯️ another really well-written crack fic! goshhh this one's so goood! this one's the real friends to lovers, gosh the pining is just *chef's kiss*

Finding My Pack by @untaemedqueen (paid on Patreon but so worth it)

In which an all-alpha pack unexpectedly found their mate isolated in a sterile room. So the only right thing would be to pamper and love her to make up for all those years she spent alone and lonely.

🗯️ spicyy 🥵 but also cute. I love protective mates

Flaw in The System by Strayberry_

She has 8 moons on her wrist. So do they.

🗯️ honestly Idk what to say about this one. just prepare your tissues for this family of misfits that fit so well together.

Full House by fillomina

Y/N has a steady job and lives alone, that is, until she tags along with her friend to the shelter. Jimin, Hobi, and Yoongi have been waiting to get adopted, and their chance has finally arrived. With the small hybrid pack now living with Y/N, her life never has a dull moment. As Y/N gets used to her new family, she also begins learning more about old friends, making new ones, and getting a very full house.

🗯️ I'd say that I don't like the fact that yn's kinda treated as a doormat at some parts, but it's still good and quite well-written found family fic.

Getting Back Into The Swing of Things by @jellifysh

Hearing her voice now, Namjoon was reminded of the times when she was all he had. How she was his everything, supported him with everything she had, even if it meant giving him the shirt off her back. "Joon?" Y/n sniffled. "I know it sounds crazy, you don't even have to, its been years," "No," Namjoon was agreeing before he could even think, before he could even remember the other people who lived in the house just the next room over. "No, its okay, I mean, we promised each other right? We'd never turn our backs on each other?" "You can stay with us, it'll be fine I promise, I'll handle everything, don't worry at all, it'll be great! Like, old times, okay?" Namjoon was tripping over his words now, he just felt like if he didn't see her now, he would be too late for… something. What, he wasn't sure, but there was an urgent need to have her home safe.

🗯️ just re-read this one again literally yesterday, still as good as the first time. I love strangers to friends to lovers.

Her by untouchablerave

The question hangs between you, and you’re desperate to ask it. Usually, you don’t mind much who is on the other end of the appointment, as you’re so focused on a list of kinks, trying to map out a scene in your head, but this time, the ‘who’ is all you can focus on. Your boss looks at you. “I can’t believe I’m about to say this but… do you know BTS?” Your head snaps up in shock. “You’re fucking with me,” you gasp. “I’m dead serious,” your boss replies. “Jeon Jungkook just came of age. He wants to lose it right away.”

🗯️ spicy but soft soft softtt

Hidden Marks series by Havenesa

❶ Hidden Marks

What does it mean to be soulmates? What do I love about her? What is the reason? Does there need to be a rational reason to love someone? Maybe I love her amber eyes, or the way she tries to hide her smile whenever we get into playful arguments, or her love for just living. Maybe I just love her because she is simply just Han Sera.

🗯️ This one's so angsty yet so good, the writing's also so good at making the characters so human that I'd always end up sobbing at every re-read.

❷ Connecting Hearts

What defines a soulmate? Is it the mark that you were born with, only shared with a selected few? Or a bond which was created through pain and suffering? You'll have to read to find out.

Highlight by Alphathyx

Hana attends Atlas Academy of Arts also known as the AAA to pursue her passions in Hiphop with best friend Hoseok and Prince Charming Jimin. The school gets selected along with other arts schools to compete in an inter-school competition which prize could open doors to any arts students dreams. She along with seven boys, discover what it means to love, but a tragic incident spirals the competition and them into a mystery no one saw coming.

🗯️ friendship and struggle to success <3

Hotel California by Deliebre

You are a badass business guru that works for a huge gaming company. Your home is Korea but you travel often. You are in California for work but keep bumping into hot Korean men, which makes you want to do more than bumping...

🗯️ immediate connection... yes please!

In The Dark by BearPawBeach

"How can that be? I am looking right at you. I am speaking to you right now." "That's the thing. I don't know! That's why I came here today. Yesterday, when you laughed at me, you laughed at me. I almost didn't believe it myself, but the more I thought about it, the crazier it sounded. So I came here to see you and to know if you can see me!" she blurted out. He could not believe the words that were coming out of her mouth. "Look, you don't need to lie to me. There is no need to make up some crazy excuse to meet someone." "I'm not lying! I really am invisible," she argued back. The man just threw his hands up to concede and turned to walk away from her again, walking right out of the building. The girl followed in hot pursuit. "Do you really not believe me? Why would I make something like that up? Yes, I know it sounds crazy. If I were you, I would probably think it's nuts too, but I am telling you the truth!"

🗯️ mc is invisible in this one, story's kinda sad and cute!

In Your Roots by sweetinsanityy

Jungkook is the perfect alpha, a little too perfect. Being the youngest in Bangtan, a group full of alpha's, friction has been happening between him and the boys. He's too strong, too dominating, too wild, and too much for Bangtan to handle. The perfect solution? An omega just for himself. You happen to be the perfect candidate. But the other boys want a taste of you as well. Or, you're hired to be an omega for Jungkook to take care of, and maybe he and the rest of the boys get too attached.

🗯️ another one about the boys being absolute simps!

Iridescent Love by @imnotlauriane

From a fated meeting to a life filled with wonders, the path of discovery is much, much harder than what I had prepared myself for. Especially when my identity, the only one I knew of ends up being a total lie.

🗯️ sad... but it got better. and what did I say abt imnotlauriane's stories? they're all good!

It's a Little Complex? by Infired_Mochi

Starting college and moving into a new apartment with complete independence has been your goal. Due to all the hard work at the cafe during your high school years, and your parents pitching in a few dollars, you can afford to stay in the apartment that is just the right size. However, did you get more than you bargained for? A few other college students occupy the rooms next to yours, seven to be exact. Eight rooms reside on the third floor of the apartment complex and yours is on the farthest right wing, apartment number 308. Just wait until you meet them.

🗯️ sooo it's a little complex... just read it!

Late Bloomer by basicwitch13

Despite growing up in a wolf pack, you were never able to shift nor had a second gender present itself. It seemed, by all accounts, that you were a typical human. So you carried on, burying yourself in your work as a sociology professor—until one of your students introduces you to his pack and changes everything.

🗯️ yes to yearning, pining, and healing.

Like Crazy by @euphoricfilter

The story of seven loves across eight lives.

🗯️ so freakin well-written

Little Do You Know... by @yoongiofmine

In a world where idols and actors can’t date, whether it be because of contracts, lack of time, or the dangers that involve having your personal life leaked, the market opened up for a new work field. Playmate Agencies emerged to supply the entertainment world with highly trained companions for hire. Bangtan is looking for new playmates. And you just happen to be the one all of them choose.

🗯️ another idk what to sayy, just read bcs it's so gooood.

Magic Shop by AriZedd

In which Yn is meeting new friends (and an old one) getting charmed day by day.

🗯️ just read this crack fic, strangers to friends to ... I'm obsessed.

PART 1 | PART 3 | PART 4 | NAVI

[cuephrase]

as someone who loves comics, hell as someone who got into this fandom because of comics, the comics-reading fandom commentary i keep running into that seems set on villainizing non-comics reading and fanon-enjoying members of fandom by complaining about the fic that gets published is seriously exhausting at best and deeply frustrating at its worst.

and let me preface this by saying, if you actually want to try and analyze perceived trends in good faith, by all means, do your fandom meta, so long as you are not treating other people like problems that require solutions. the solution starts with you. focus on changing your mindset from that of entitlement to appreciation. you are not owed quality fic- whatever that looks like to you. a fic not being to your preference doesn’t make it any less a labor of love, a creation that someone spent their free time putting together and sharing.

also i do scroll/block. i am not being “forced” to engage with this rhetoric. still, the prevalence disheartens me because this attitude runs in direct contradiction to what my understanding of fandom/ao3 is.

is fandom not the space to have fun with our blorbos? to share headcanons and art and analysis and connect with those who share our love and vision? do you forget that the A in AO3 stands for Archive? that the T in OTW stands for Transformative? why is it so offensive for someone to write and post a fic, to an archive, that is OOC to you that you have to complain about it in a public tumblr post? why does seeing someone enjoy and/or create something you dislike warrant you going to the town square and bitching? what gives you the authority to tell someone whether or not they deserve to exist in the fandom? are we not all guests?

just because we’re all in one fandom doesn’t mean you are the target audience for every creation. especially in big fandoms, where the breadth of interpretations is vast. like. you do know that even if every person who posted a batman fic read the comics, you still wouldn’t like every fic? something not being canon to you, while perfectly valid, doesn’t change the fact that it is or was canon and therefore may very well be canon to someone else. and vice versa! not to mention that someone can read the exact same comics and reach an entirely different conclusion. they can love the same character and see them totally differently.

y’all stroll up to a sprawling potluck, see some dishes you dislike, and start crashing out like. pause for a second. damn. you don’t have to eat any of that!! i don’t really care if you have a hard time finding fic you like, because, what? you think that makes you special? do you want a medal or consolation prize for doing what literally everyone who uses ao3 has to do to find fic they like if they’re picky? should i marvel at your commitment to only consuming that which has the finest of characterization, the most artful prose, the deepest, most esoteric insights? give me a break. what a first world problem.

“but they’re not even really fans of-” shut up. just shut up. keep that stuff in dms or the appropriate discord servers. private places where someone can’t accidentally stumble across them and get hurt. people come to fandom for so many reasons, why risk ruining something that is bringing someone comfort and community just because you dislike seeing blorbo written that way?

yes, it is up to individuals to curate the experience they have in fandom. it is their prerogative to block/scroll/not click on that fic that is clearly tagged with something they dislike. but it is not up to you to try and curate the Fandom itself. do you see the difference? you can make your own discord server and decide the rules, you can make your own archive and decide the TOS, you can and should make your space a space you enjoy being in. but the Fandom as a whole? that’s not yours.

like tagging is a very important part of good etiquette on ao3 imo, but the discourse over what fic can/should be has gotten so out of hand that my friend, who loves superboy and reads his comics, worries about what fandom tag to use for their fics that aren't canon compliant. hell, i tag all my fics that do not directly deal with a comics canon incident as "Batman - All Media Types" and not "[Character] Comics", even though i've read tons of comics and they are solely what i base my characterization off of because i'm paranoid about someone coming into my comments and giving me grief about it not being canon accurate enough, or being the inspiration of a vaguepost. what a sad environment that has been built. why should there be any stress over whether a transformative work belongs under the applicable fandom tags? what a bastardization of fandom etiquette to push for people to only tag with X fandom if they've "earned" it, if the fic is something that a Real fan would want to read. dgmw, i'm grateful that the Batman - AMT tag still exists, i think it's an extremely useful catchall, but the way that people weaponize the fandom tags is just so disappointing. and also? honestly? a little chronically online. because it presumes that ao3 authors will also be present on other fandom spaces to know the "rules", which is absurd. someone should not need to be involved on tumblr, or any other site, to know how to tag on ao3. following the rules as outlined on ao3 itself should be sufficient.

“well i enjoy venting-” yes, okay, i’m sorry that you lack the empathy to understand why your actions are discourteous. and like, to be crystal clear, i am strictly opposing vent posts/vagueblogging that calls out/complains about fic specificially. stuff like “i’m so sick of seeing people write X fic” or “saw this fic, why would anyone write a fic like this?” it’s not a legitimate question. it’s not a legitimate question, because the answer is simple even if you dislike it. they wrote it because they wanted to. that’s the only reason anyone needs to write a fic. and guess what, the great thing is that there’s an equally simple answer for why someone may not want to read a fic- because they don’t want to!

not that it matters, but i’m not saying this because i just love every single part of fanon and every fic is right up my alley- no. not only am i incredibly picky, but my tastes have shifted over time. past me adored some fics that i would scroll right past now- and those fics aren’t bad, i can re-read the ones i remembered to bookmark and see why i liked them. and i read fics now that past me would/did scroll past. i just don’t think my personal enjoyment of a fic should have any bearing on whether or not that fic should be allowed to exist- unless ofc, it’s my own fic. and even then, i, personally, orphan stuff, i don’t delete akdhfkdhf.

we are all guests. we are all playing with IP we don’t own. we do a disservice to ourselves and others when we forget that.

[ironinc]

My Dearest Situationship.ᝰ.ᐟ (Pt 1)

Tony Stark x F!Black Reader.  (Smut/NSFW)

˗ˏˋ You and Tony are in a passionate yet confusing relationship, with him longing for something more serious and you cherishing your independent lifestyle. When you're together, the spark is undeniable, but when apart, you each lead your own lives. He envisions settling down with someone like you, but you question where your relationship stands. How will this whirlwind romance unfold between two individuals with differing expectations?

⤷ Oneshot, smut so here’s the warning! Lowkey sugar daddy, sex occurs twice, yearning and romance of course~

⤷ A/N: I fear I’m obsessed with writing things for tony. I just can’t not have a good idea for the plot!!!

⤷ Word count: 4,658

⤷ Special song to add spice: Make It To The Morning by Partynextdoor.

ᥫ᭡

The penthouse was quiet, save for the low hum of the city below. Too quiet. The kind of silence that made you hyper-aware of your own breathing, your own heartbeat. You leaned against the floor-to-ceiling window, staring out at the glittering skyline, but all you could think about was him. Tony Stark. He had this uncanny ability to occupy your thoughts even when he wasn’t there. And tonight, he wasn’t. Not physically, anyway.

You swirled the wine in your glass, the deep red liquid catching the dim light. It was his favorite. Some ridiculously expensive vintage he insisted on stocking for you. For me, you corrected yourself. 

Because that’s what this was, wasn’t it? A carefully curated arrangement where he provided… everything. The clothes, the jewelry, the apartment. But what did he get in return? Your presence? Your affection? Or something more elusive, something neither of you could quite define?

The sound of a key turning in the lock snapped you out of your thoughts. You didn’t turn around, not yet. You knew it was him. Only he would barge in unannounced as if he owned the place. Technically, he did.

“Still up?” His voice was smooth, confident, and just a little teasing. “Waiting for me?”

You finally turned, your gaze meeting his as he stepped into the room. Tony Stark. The man who could make your pulse race with just a glance. He was dressed impeccably, as always—a tailored suit that fit him like a second skin, the faintest hint of stubble shadowing his jaw. His eyes, though. Those were what got you every time. Dark, intense, and filled with a hunger that matched your own.

“Not waiting,” you lied, taking a sip of your wine. “Just couldn’t sleep.”

He smirked, loosening his tie as he approached. “Liar.”

The word hung in the air between you, charged with the tension that always seemed to exist whenever you were together. It was electric, undeniable. You felt it in the way your breath hitched when he stopped just inches away, in the way his cologne wrapped around you like a second skin.

“You don’t have to lie to me beautiful he murmured, his voice dropping an octave. “I know you missed me.”

You raised an eyebrow, trying to maintain some semblance of control. “Confident, aren’t we?”

“Always.” He took the glass from your hand, setting it aside without breaking eye contact. 

“But I’m not the one who’s been pacing all night, am I?”

Damn him. Damn him for seeing right through you. You wanted to argue, to push back, but the intensity of his gaze left you speechless. Instead, you swallowed hard, feeling the heat of his body so close to yours. Too close. Not close enough.

Tony reached out, his fingers brushing against your cheek. The touch was gentle, almost reverent, but it sent a shiver down your spine nonetheless. “Why do you fight it so much?” he asked softly. “This thing between us. It’s real, and you know it.”

You shook your head, stepping back slightly. “It’s complicated.”

“Only because you make it that way.” His hand dropped, but his gaze never wavered. “I’m offering you everything, ____. All of me. But you keep holding back. Why?”

Because you’re scared, and not being independent would be something new for you. The thought flashed through your mind unbidden, but you didn’t say it aloud. Couldn’t. Admitting that would mean admitting how much he meant to you, how deeply he’d already gotten under your skin. And that was dangerous. Terrifying.

Instead, you deflected. “You’re used to getting whatever you want, aren’t you?”

His lips curved into a slow, knowing smile. “Usually. But you’re different. You’ve always been different.”

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, but you forced yourself to stay composed. “Flattery won’t work on me, Tony.”

“Good thing I’m not trying to flatter you, then.” He closed the distance between you again, his hands settling on your hips. “I’m trying to show you what you mean to me. What we could be.”

His touch was firm, and grounding, but it only heightened the buzzing in your veins. You wanted to pull away, to preserve the distance you so desperately clung to, but your body betrayed you, leaning into him instead. His lips brushed against your ear as he spoke, his breath warm against your skin.

“Let me in, ____. Just once. Let me show you.”

The words were a plea, a promise, and a challenge all rolled into one. And they broke you. Whatever walls you’d built, whatever defenses you’d erected, they crumbled in that moment. You looked up at him, your resolve faltering, and nodded.

That was all the invitation he needed.

Tony’s mouth crashed onto yours, fierce and demanding, as if he’d been holding back for far too long. You responded in kind, your hands tangling in his hair, pulling him closer as the kiss deepened. There was no hesitation, no pretense. Justraw, unbridled desire.

He backed you toward the bedroom, his hands roaming over your body with practiced ease. Every touch, every caress, was deliberate, designed to unravel you piece by piece. By the time he pushed open the door, your dress was already pooling at your feet, leaving you bare before him.

Your breath hitched as his eyes raked over you, dark and hungry. “Beautiful,” he breathed, the word barely audible but dripping with sincerity.

You felt exposed, vulnerable, but also… powerful. Like you held him in the palm of your hand, even as he claimed you with his gaze. He stepped closer, his fingers tracing a path down your arm, sending shivers skittering across your skin.

“Tony…” Your voice was soft and uncertain, but he silenced you with another kiss. This one was slower, sweeter, as if he was savoring the taste of you.

When he pulled back, his expression was serious. “Tell me what you want, ____.”

You hesitated, your mind racing. What did you want? Him? Yes, always. But more than that? That was the question you’d been avoiding.

“I want… you,” you whispered finally, the admission tearing free before you could stop it. “All of you.”

A flicker of triumph crossed his face, but it was quickly replaced by something softer, more tender. “You’ve got me,” he said simply. “Now and always.”

The words should have scared you. They did scare you, deep down. But in that moment, all you could focus on was the feel of his hands on your skin, the heat of his body pressed against yours. He laid you down on the bed, his movements slow and deliberate, as if he was memorizing every inch of you.

His lips trailed down your neck, planting soft kisses along the way until they found your collarbone. You gasped as he nipped gently, his tongue soothing the sting. “So sensitive,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire.

Every touch, every word, was deliberate, calculated to drive you wild. And it worked. By the time his hands slid lower, you were already trembling, your breaths coming in short, uneven gasps.

“Tony, please…”

“What do you need, sweetheart?” His voice was low and rough, but there was a tenderness there that made your chest ache. “Tell me.”

You opened your mouth to respond, to beg, but then his fingers brushed against you, and all coherent thought fled. You arched into his touch, a moan escaping your lips as he teased and tormented you, drawing out sensations you hadn’t even known were possible.

“That’s it,” he coaxed, his thumb circling slowly. “Let go for me.”

And you did. Wave after wave of pleasure crashed over you, leaving you breathless and trembling in his arms. He held you through it, his lips pressing gentle kisses to your forehead, murmuring words you were too overwhelmed to process.

When the last tremor subsided, you looked up at him, your vision still hazy. His expression was one of pure adoration, and it made your heart ache in ways you weren’t ready to examine.

“My turn,” he said huskily, his hands moving to his belt. You watched, transfixed, as he undressed, revealing the taut muscles and perfect skin beneath. When he joined you on the bed, you could feel the heat radiating off him, tempting you closer.

His hands roamed over your body, rekindling the fire he’d just stoked. You gasped as he nipped at your earlobe, his breath hot against your skin. “Are you ready for me, Y/N?”

You nodded, unable to form words. He positioned himself above you, his eyes locked onto yours, full of intensity and something deeper. Something that made your heart pound even harder.

“Tell me if it’s too much,” he whispered, his voice rough with need.

You nodded again, biting your lip as he entered you slowly, giving you time to adjust. It was overwhelming, the sensation of being so completely connected to him. But it was also perfect.

As he began to move, you wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him closer. Each thrust was deliberate, drawing out gasps and moans that echoed through the room. His name fell from your lips like a prayer, and he responded with a groan, burying his face in your neck.

The rhythm increased, becoming more urgent, more desperate. You clung to him, your nails digging into his back as waves of pleasure built once more. 

Without a word he stopped you from moving, flipping you around flat on your stomach. He grabbed your hips and pulled them up. Helping you arch your back. He teases you for a second. Using your wetness to tease you with just his tip.

“Tony, don’t tease me—”

With a swift move, he inserted every inch of him, without letting you re-adjust. His strong hands rested on your waist. Controlling your movements he brought your ass to meet his thrusts. His moans were low and so attractive. It added to everything you were feeling. 

In this position, you could really feel all of him. It was toe-curling. (BAHHSHHSHA) 

“Come for me, sweetheart,” he urged, his voice strained. “I’ve got you.”

And just like that, you shattered again, crying out as ecstasy consumed you. He followed soon after, his body tensing before collapsing beside you, both of you breathless and spent.

For a long moment, neither of you spoke. The only sound was the steady rhythm of your breathing, slowly syncing as you lay tangled together. Finally, Tony broke the silence, his voice soft but firm.

“We can’t keep doing this, Y/N.” He stood up and went to the dresser. Getting himself something to put on and gettingyou one of his shirts to wear plus some pajama shorts. He gave it to you and then sat beside you. 

Your stomach dropped at what he said. You thanked him for the clothes and put them on. “What do you mean?” 

He turned to face you, his expression serious. “I mean… I’m tired of pretending this is casual. I want more. With you.”

You stared at him, your mind racing. More. It’s what you’d been secretly longing for, even as you denied it. But now that it was out there, hanging between you…

“Tony…”

Tony’s eyes held yours, unwavering, as if he could see straight through the walls you’d built around yourself. The weight of his words pressed down on you, making it hard to breathe. More. It wasn’t just a word—it was a promise, a demand, a fear all rolled into one. You swallowed hard, your voice trembling as you finally spoke.

You hesitated, your hands clenching and unclenching at your sides. “I don’t know if I can give you what you want. I’m not… I’m not built for this. For us.”

His brow furrowed, but he didn’t pull away. Instead, he took a step closer, his presence overwhelming in the best way. “Why not?” he asked, his voice low and steady. “What’s holding you back?”

You looked away, your heart pounding in your chest. “I’m scared,” you admitted, the words slipping out before you could stop them. “Scared of losing myself. Scared of depending on someone else. Scared of getting hurt. And scared to not be independent.”

For a moment, there was silence. Then Tony reached out, his fingers brushing against your cheek. His touch was gentle, almost reverent, as if you were something precious. “Look at me,” he said softly, and you did, your eyes meeting his once more. “You’re not going to lose yourself with me. I don’t want to take anything from you. I want to give you more—more of me, more of us. And as for getting hurt…” He paused, his thumb tracing the curve of your cheekbone. “I’ll never let that happen. Not if I can help it.”

His words wrapped around you like a warm blanket, soothing the edges of your fear. But still, the doubt lingered. “You say that now, but what happens when I’m not enough? When you realize I can’t give you everything you need?”

Tony’s expression softened, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “You already are enough. You’ve always been enough. And I’m not asking for everything—I’m just asking for a chance. A chance to show you that we can be something real.”

Your breath caught in your throat, the sincerity in his voice breaking down your defenses. “Tony…”

He leaned in, his forehead resting against yours, his breath warm against your skin. “I’m not going anywhere,” he murmured. “Not unless you tell me to. And even then, I might not listen.”

A laugh bubbled up in your chest, unexpected but welcome. “Stubborn,” you muttered, shaking your head.

“Guilty,” he replied, his lips brushing against yours in a soft, fleeting kiss. “But I’m also serious. I meant what I said earlier. I want to take care of you, ___. In every way, shape, and form. Let me. Please.”

His gaze was so intense, so full of raw emotion, that it was impossible to look away. “I don’t know if I can,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

Tony’s hand slid down to cup your chin, tilting your face up to his. “You don’t have to know right now,” he said. “All I’m asking is that you trust me. Trust us. Let’s figure it out together, one step at a time.”

Your heart raced, the walls around it crumbling with each word he spoke. “You’re not making this easy,” you said, your voice trembling.

He chuckled, the sound low and warm. “Good. I wasn’t trying to.”

You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath as his words sank in. One step at a time. He was right. You don’t have to have all the answers right now. All you had to do was take the first step. And maybe, just maybe, it would be worth it.

When you opened your eyes again, Tony was still there, waiting patiently, his gaze never leaving yours. “Okay,” you said softly, the word leaving your lips like a confession. “One step at a time.”

A smile spread across his face, bright and genuine, and he pulled you into his arms, holding you close. “Thank you,” he murmured into your hair, his voice thick with emotion. “You won’t regret this.”

You buried your face in his chest, his heartbeat steady against your cheek. “I hope you’re right,” you whispered.

“I am,” he said, his fingers gently trailing up and down your back. “And to prove it…” He pulled back slightly, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Let me take you out. A real date. No business, no distractions. Just you and me.”

You raised an eyebrow, a small smile tugging at your lips. “A date? Are you sure you remember how to do that?”

Tony laughed, the sound rich and full. “I might be a little rusty, but I’m sure I can manage. Besides, it’s you—you make everything easy.”

Flutters filled your stomach. He had a way of making you feel seen, and cherished, and not just physically. It was in the way he talked to you, how he held your gaze, how he seemed to understand you without having to say a word.

“Tomorrow night,” he said, his voice firm but soft. “I’ll pick you up at seven. Dress for whatever you want—fancy, casual, it doesn’t matter. Just be ready for me.”

“Understood,” you replied, feeling the warmth of his words sink into your skin.

Slowly, his hand drifted to the small of your back, and he leaned in again, his lips brushing against your ear.

 “Good. Now,” he whispered, his tone dropping into something deeper, more intimate. 

“It’s late,” he murmured against your skin, sending shivers down your spine, “and I’m not done with you yet.”

His palms slid down your sides, trailing heat everywhere they touched until his fingers hooked into the waistband of your pajama bottoms and tugged gently. “Take these off for me,” he said, his voice husky as he took a step back, just far enough to give you space but close enough that you could feel the heat radiating from him.

Your breath hitched, but you didn’t disagree. Slowly, you slid your shorts down your legs, kicking them aside, leaving only his thin t-shirt covering you. The look in his eyes darkened as his gaze traveled down your body, his lips parting slightly, his jaw tensing. He let out a low exhale, and your stomach tightened in anticipation.

He strode forward, the intensity in his eyes making your heart pound, and he slipped his hands under the hem of the shirt, fingers brushing against the softness of your thighs as it fell over your body. His eyes roamed your bare skin, making you feel exposed, vulnerable, and yet utterly desired. His fingers trailed up your sides, sliding the fabric up, inch by inch, and you raised your arms, letting him pull the shirt over your head.

Tony’s breath caught as he took you in, his gaze lingering as his hands began to explore, trailing lightly over your skin. His fingers brushed your shoulders, tracing the curve of your collarbone, and then he leaned in, his lips following the path his hands had taken. “You’re so fucking beautiful,” he murmured against your skin, the words sending a shiver down your spine. His hand moved down your back, his fingers trailing lightly, sending sparks of pleasure through you.

He pulled you closer, his body flush against yours, his erection pressing against your hip. Your breath hitched as he moved his mouth to your neck, his teeth grazing your skin, making your knees weaken. His hand slid down to your thigh, gripping it firmly as he pulled you even closer. “You feel so good,” he breathed, his voice deep and rough. “So fucking good.”

His hands moved over your body, stroking and caressing you, exploring every inch of skin he could find. He kissed along your shoulder, his lips traveling up to your neck again, his tongue flicking out to taste your skin. His hand cupped your ass, squeezing it gently before sliding down to your thigh again, pulling your leg up to wrap around his hip.

Tony’s breath was heavy against your neck as he kissed and nibbled at the sensitive skin there. His hands moved over your body, his touch firm but gentle, making you shiver and moan. His erection pressed against you, hard and insistent, and you could feel the heat radiating off his body.

“Tony,” you breathed, his name a plea and a prayer as your fingers fisted in his shirt. He leaned back, his hands framing your face, his thumbs brushing against your cheeks, and his eyes locked with yours. His gaze was intense, almost unrelenting, but it wasn’t forceful. It was… possessive, but in a way that made your chest tighten and your breath hitch in your throat.

He leaned in, his lips feathering against yours, and you melted into him, your body softening as you kissed him back. His tongue slipped into your mouth, and you moaned softly as you kissed him deeper, your hands sliding down his chest and gripping the hem of his shirt. You pulled it up, breaking the kiss as you tugged it over his head and tossed it aside. His bare chest was warm and solid against yours, his skin smooth and taut over the muscles beneath.

Tony’s hands slid down to your hips, his fingers digging into your skin as he walked you backward until your knees hit the edge of the bed. He didn’t push you down. Instead, he leaned in, his lips brushing against yours, his breath warm on your skin, and murmured, “Lie back.”

Your heart raced as you followed his command, lying back on the bed, your legs bent and your feet flat on the mattress. He knelt down, his hands wrapping around your knees to spread your legs apart. You let out a shaky breath as his head dipped between your thighs, his lips brushing against the sensitive skin on the inside. His tongue flicked out, teasing you, and your back arched as a shiver ran through you, a soft moan escaping your lips. His hands slid up your thighs, squeezing them gently before moving down to grip your hips again. His tongue moved faster, flicking over you, and your body trembled as pleasure built inside you.

Tony’s mouth moved lower, his tongue sliding between your folds, and you gasped, one hand gripping the sheets as the other reached down to tangle in his hair. His mouth pressed against you, his tongue flicking over your clit, and you cried out, your body trembling as waves of pleasure washed over you. His hands moved up to cup your breasts, his thumbs flicking over your nipples, making you moan as your body writhed beneath him.

“Tony,” you gasped, his name falling from your lips like a prayer, your hips grinding against his mouth as the pressure built inside you, your body trembling with need as he teased and pleasured you. His eyes lifted to yours, and he smirked, his lips glistening with your arousal.

“I like hearing my name on your lips,” he said, his voice low and husky, his breath warm against your skin. “Say it again.”

“Tony,” you whispered again, your voice trembling with need as his tongue worked its magic between your thighs. His name hung in the air like a promise, and he groaned against you, the vibration sending another wave of pleasure coursing through your body. He pulled back slightly, his darkened eyes locking onto yours, and you could see the hunger there, raw and unrelenting.

“Say it again,” he demanded, his voice low and gravelly, his breath fanning over your slick flesh.

“Tony,” you moaned louder this time, your hips lifting off the bed as if to chase his mouth. His grip on your thighs tightened, and he chuckled softly, a sound that sent a shiver down your spine.

“Good girl,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your inner thigh before returning to their delicious task. His tongue swirled around your clit, teasing, and flicking, and you gasped, your fingers tightening in his hair as you arched into him. The room was filled with the sounds of your combined breaths and the wet, intimate noises of his mouth on you, driving you closer and closer to the edge.

You were teetering on the brink, your body coiled tight with tension, when Tony suddenly pulled away. You whimpered at the loss, your eyes flying open to meet his. He smirked, his lips glistening, and climbed up your body, his hands sliding under you to grip your ass as he positioned himself over you. His cock brushed against your entrance, and you shuddered, your nails digging into his shoulders.

“Not yet,” he said, his voice thick with desire. “I want to feel you.”

His words sent a jolt of heat through you, but before you could respond, he shifted his weight, rolling onto his back and pulling you with him. You straddled his waist, your knees pressing into the mattress on either side of him, and he gazed up at you, his dark eyes full of something you couldn’t quite name.

“Take what you want,” he said, his voice soft but commanding. His hands slid up your thighs, his thumbs brushing over your hip bones, and you felt a surge of power, of control, that made your breath hitch.

You leaned forward, your hands resting on his chest as you positioned yourself over him. His cock pressed against you, and you sank down slowly, inch by excruciating inch until you were fully seated on him. Tony’s head fell back, a groan tearing from his throat, and his hands gripped your hips tightly.

“Fuck,” he muttered, his voice rough, and you smiled faintly, moving your hips experimentally. His breath hitched, and you did it again, harder this time, relishing the way his eyes fluttered closed and his jaw clenched.

“You feel so good,” you whispered, your voice trembling as you began to move, rocking your hips against him. His hands moved to your breasts, his thumbs brushing over your nipples, and you gasped, your movements growing more urgent.

Tony’s eyes opened, and he watched you intently, his gaze burning into yours as you rode him. His hands slid down to your hips, guiding your movements, and you let him take control, surrendering to the rhythm he set. His thrusts grew deeper, more insistent, and you cried out, your nails scraping against his chest as pleasure built inside you.

“Don’t hold back baby,” he urged, his voice rough and demanding, and you obeyed, your body convulsing around him as waves of ecstasy crashed over you. Tony swore under his breath, his hips slamming into yours as he chased his ownrelease, and moments later, he followed you over the edge, his fingers digging into your skin as he came with a guttural groan.

You collapsed against him, your chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath. His arms wrapped around you, holding you close, and you listened to the steady thud of his heartbeat beneath your ear. For a moment, neither of you spoke, the silence broken only by the sound of your breathing.

When Tony finally stirred, his hand brushed your hair back from your face, his touch gentle. “Stay with me,” he murmured, his voice soft but firm, and you nodded, curling into his side as exhaustion washed over you. His fingers trailed down your arm, leaving goosebumps in their wake, and you sighed contentedly, your eyes drifting shut.

But as you lay there, your mind began to wander, the blissful haze of afterglow giving way to thoughts you’d been trying to ignore. Tony’s hand stilled on your arm, and you glanced up at him, finding his eyes already on you.

“What is it?” he asked, his brow furrowing slightly. His thumb brushed over your cheek, and you hesitated, unsure how to voice the feelings swirling inside you.

“I just…” you began, biting your lip as you searched for the right words. “What are we doing, Tony?”

His expression softened, and he cupped your face in his hand, his thumb sweeping over your lower lip. “We’re figuring it out,” he said quietly. “One step at a time.”

You wanted to believe him, to trust that this could work, and you kinda did, but it lingered in the back of your mind. Before you could say anything else, Tony leaned in, capturing your lips in a slow, tender kiss that left you breathless. When he pulled away, his forehead rested against yours, and you closed your eyes, savoring the closeness.

“Get some sleep beautiful,” he murmured, his hand sliding down to rest on your hip. You nodded, smiling at the compliment and too tired to argue, and snuggled closer to him, letting the warmth of his body lull you into a restless sleep.

ON MY SOUL, ON MY GRANNY THIS HAD ME GEEKED OUT GAHHHHSHH. ESPECIALLY THIS EDIT WITH IT V 

(Credits: Robertsdesert on TikTok)

I hope you all like this one. Trying new story ideas and this will also have a part two soon, since it was requested 🤍

༘⋆ Part two awaits you now... ⋆˙⟡

[lurkiestvoid]

I have a couple things to say about the current tidal wave of harassment happening in the VG fandom bc of, apparently, surveys? Mostly for my DA mutuals and their moots:

Hey hi. I'm Jack. I know I'm not super active in the fandom and my presence is spotty at best; I promise I'm trying, it's a wild combination of anxieties and trauma and agoraphobia and digital privacy. I'm obviously not any kind of authority on fandom or community.

But I've been in lots of communities, and been involved in community/action organization irl. I have a moderate amount of experience, here, and that's where I'm speaking from. Cut for length but formatted for skimming:

1.) You can safely assume the vast majority of this "VG crit" is bad faith, and block liberally.

I've been seeing the kind of shit being sent y'all's way, and every. single. post. I've seen in this manner, the posts/anons throwing around "leftist" terms and "morality" and shit, are all chock full of red flags most often associated with saboteurs.

It's not good-faith criticism of a video game when it posits things like "There's no way anyone could enjoy this game ever without a baseline comfort for oppression" to imply fans are just Evil and Bad (character assassination), or that all fans/devs are "racist," "sexist," "xenophobic," etc (weaponized in-group vocabulary), among other things. This is further evidenced by the fact that they have now doxxed several people (terroristic 'mob justice', attempt at forced conformity/high control group).

2) While it's possible that maybe even most of these assholes are real genuine people who are just emotionally dysregulated and need to fucking touch grass, it is virtually guaranteed a non-zero amount of them are intentional antagonists, for one reason or another.

I know, the whole 'theyre not real' thing feels like trying to remove the blame from people doing literal harm and instead point to a vague conspiracy of bots as the culprit, but it's actually extremely common; as of 2025 more than half of all internet traffic is non-human and over a third is malicious. (Source: 2025 Bad Bot Report)

The thing about bad-faith community sabotage is that it's contagious. Just one or two assholes (who may or may not have multiple profiles, a suite of bots, etc) is enough to stir the pot, and because this is the internet, like-minded individuals will flock to them and parrot their dogshit witty one-liners and punchy "analysis" purely for the dopamine of "righteous" dog-piling, giving saboteurs a whole crowd to not only hide within, but a platform from which to amplify their toxins.

That's also what makes it virtually impossible to hunt them down. Witch hunts and callouts are a legitimate division tactic, because they often end up ostracizing innocent randos or peripheral participants rather than the few people at the core of it all. It makes for great amounts of infighting and high levels of suspicion, with a very low chance of success.

The only way to shut them down in digital spaces is to, essentially, stonewall them: do not engage, do not amplify, and curate them out of your existence. They will simply starve.

3.) Bad-faith antagonists and saboteurs REQUIRE "normal" interests and activity to blend in outside of their toxic behaviors.

It can sound maybe unhinged to assume trolls/antagonists have it thought out this thoroughly, but the best ones are multipurpose and well-disguised. Think of it as a marketable skill to certain types, called "evil social media marketing" where their whole goal is disruption and division. How much engagement can they generate? How effective are they at polarization? How long did it take them to get discovered/banned/kicked out, if at all?

This phenomenon isn't unique to the Dragon Age community in the slightest, and these strategies aren't new; they're actually decades-old but I've found if I mention that history by name those posts mysteriously disappear but it rhymes with "shmointel-bro" and it's a whole literal How-To manual that explains how to effectively disrupt and destroy grassroots movements and communities.

Anyways since this kind of thing is a little more "visible" on places like Reddit, it's easier to see in action there: like checking someone's user profile and finding they post random harmless comments in random hobby/interest subreddits, but they'll have one or two Specific Fandoms that they spend all their time leaving hate comments and ragebait. You can then scroll through their history and see things like, oh, this person has literally never played these games before the newest release. Or, what a surprise, they're also posting in the 'critical' subreddit, and oh look, they're enticing others to "raid" the fan sub because it's fun and free.

Sometimes, these folks will buy or even just hack regular randos' Reddit profiles, so theyll have an unsuspicious/hobbyist comment history to hide behind; these are a little harder to pinpoint, but things like a wide gap in comment history before they returned to spend weeks/months hyper-focusing on trolling a specific group, etc, can be flags.

However, Tumblr doesn't work like Reddit, so all we have to go on are usually recent posts/activity mixed in with all the reblogs of random content.

Trolls, definitely. Absolutely. "Fans?" "Community members?" No, not in the slightest. They have zero interest in community building, and they find community destruction to be fun or "good".

Saboteurs. Block and ignore.

The ones that don't "diversify" their "interests" and spread out their activity are more quickly flagged as bots and antagonists, and end up banned before they can do enough damage; these are the basic haters and trolls that don't do this shit like a full-time job. It is vitally important that saboteur profiles/blogs/etc seem as real and genuine as possible, for as long as possible.

4) The "why" comes back to that "marketable skill."

These kinds of bad-faith agents and their bot minions/duplicate profiles are very, very valuable for many, many organizations and many, many purposes. This isn't conspiracy so much as an open secret often called by other names: "PR campaigns," "astroturfing," "culture war," etc etc.

People get paid to do this shit. The better they are, the more they get paid. Sometimes they do it for free -- going back to the contagion of antagonism, tons of regular trolls and maladjusted goobers will happily jump on that bandwagon just for funsies, or for that "righteous" feeling. It's like superpowered fertilizer for the invasive, toxic weeds planted by random assholes.

But the paid ones, the roots, probably don't actually give a shit about anything they say. They don't care about this game, or that game, or that tv show, or that celebrity, or this or that Cause, or this or that stock ticker; they might not even know hardly anything about it, might just be frankensourcing their "opinions" from the community itself.

They don't actually give a shit about whatever 'discourse' about any particular topic, but they're here because you DO care, and because it's just another job to them, more metrics to put on their resumé. The more active/more popular a community, the more hype or socmed mentions about it, the more likely they are to flock in droves and set up camp on one side of the aisle or other (or both).

5) Healthy communities require pruning sometimes.

I know it's tempting to throw the doors open wide and just ask everyone to behave, and that digital spaces are unique in that you often can't just ask someone to remove themselves the way you can at irl actions, and that there is a very fine line to walk between tolerance and intolerance.

However, this is the paradox of tolerance: too much of it allows intolerance and bad-faith to creep in, and it's always contagious.

Curation =/= censorship. Pruning antagonists =/= censorship. Intolerance of antagonism =/= censorship. Those people are free to continue the discussions away from you, you have no power to actually force them to shut up (nor vice versa), and if they're Real Genuine Extra-Salty People they'll just continue bitching amongst themselves, elsewhere. The Antagonists will always seek to come back, though, whether by using sideblogs/accts to get around blocks or by spamming anons or threats, etc. They REQUIRE access to your community to be EFFECTIVE at their goals, and being shut out can make them act out wildly in desperation.

This is already hella long so a quick rundown of other signs/behaviors to watch out for:

- the massive astroturfing campaign of negative reviews immediately on release, often parroting each other (strong sign money is involved somewhere)

- thought-terminating "critique" with heavy moral implications ('if you like this game at all you're racist/not an ally/a bad person/etc')

- logical fallacies (STRONG contender, easy ragebait: black-and-white thinking, moving goalposts, refusing burden of proof, etc)

- outright false "critique" ('this has NEVER been mentioned before' when it has, 'this wasn't addressed at all' when it was, etc; more easy ragebait)

- weaponized in-group vocabulary, virtue signaling

- character assassination and smear campaigns

TL;DR: the antagonism on display in our community since VG released is majorly inorganic bad-faith deliberate division; you don't have to tolerate it, and actually probably shouldn't.