#but it deals in a lot of serious subject matter so people who will be triggered by it should definitely not try it it will not be comfy

[polysyndetonaddictsupportgroup]

in my defense, i was like 90% sure u already knew what banana fish was and i thought u would call me out on my bs right away. i did have a moment of panic when it turned out that u didn’t so 🥺

Hahaha it’s totally fine. I’ve actually never heard of it before today but I did start watching it because of this because I was curious. I like it so far

[uyuartik]

bad idea, right? (obi wan kenobi x f!reader)

tags: slightly sith coded obi wan, no use of y/n, my unhinged take on regency era, (blaming bridgerton and pride and prejudice), probably historical inaccuracies, SMUT, mentions of oral sex (fem and male receiving), mentions of fingering, piv sex, dom!obi?, i really don't know what to write here it is just filth and it is gonna get filthier

a/n: HII! so i became haunted by historical!obi au's and spent six months writing a short series... this is the first chapter out of three, so i hope you stay tuned for the upcoming one (it is FILTHIER than this and about 19k words)

likes and reblogs are very much appreciated, and i can't wait to hear your opinions! i am also crossposting on ao3, feel free to interact there as well.

enjoy!!!

word count: 5.4K

chapter one: see you tonight?

“…Fuck, just like that-“

That voice. Yes, that’s how you ended up here, you think, as you roll your hips, feeling the exquisite contours of Obi Wan’s cock stretching your walls and pulling pleasure out of every cell in your body, and possibly from your soul too.

Ehem. Lord Kenobi.

And truth be told, that’s not exactly how things led here. Of course, his rich voice and the manner in which he used it were notable factors. The way he camouflaged his remarks under sweet quips never failed to make you giggle into the next day, and regardless of the topic (ashamedly, it was mostly about the other people in the room, and their rather obscene behaviors), the comments he made always reflected the intelligence behind it. He played the serious bit perfectly too, even though his reverent sentences carried some poetry, never pompous, yet deep enough to convey its origin and the realness of his sincerity… That’s why you started spending hours with him at balls in the first place. Ten minutes alone with him, undoing all the prejudice you had against the man. All the rumors about him were proven wrong, or at least, half true. And you liked that remaining part of the truth.

Only after that, came the subject of his charms. Not quite surprising, considering that there was no lack of handsome faces around, but a lack of brains in them. Or a true heart. You hated the hypocrisy of it all, and it was a blessing to find someone who shared that sentiment. Not to mention the benefit of him deflecting any unwanted company.

Likewise, he must've thought the same about you, thus your current position. It was obvious that both of you two had similar standards, even in these lewd matters. People didn’t call him a heartbreaker because he pursued a lot of women, but when he did and it came to an inevitable end, they were the shell of whom they used to be, like a person could be mummified by the absence of the joy he charmed people with it. And you, you weren’t the type to have somebody just because you could. No, you looked for a special connection, a click, and when you got lucky and found one among the countless candidates, you treasured it. Now, even the word click sounded wanting, there were sparks present between the two of you, a considerable, good dynamic you two had built, and that made everything just better.

You were almost sad thinking this was a one-time event, already knowing this is a moment you'll remember your entire life. (You weren't gonna push your luck on getting caught.) If there were such deals, two of you keeping it to each other forever in this aspect of life, you’d have signed that contract in a blink.

“Thought you said you were tired.” He breathes out, clearly an effort, yet the smug grin on his face leaves no room for doubt or pity.

“I’ve been sitting all day.” That’s how travel works in carriages, after all. “I think stretching my legs, is what I need.” You emphasize by raising yourself higher and slowly sink back down a few times, a motion that pulls moans from both of your mouths.

Travel. It took you half a day to reach your aunt’s estate, and you were fairly certain you wouldn’t attend the ball that is currently taking place. Then, you realized there was no way your gracious hostesses would see you tonight, you were forced to enter the saloon. It would be a quick in and out, maybe greeting a few more people, no dance, with the very valid excuse of I’ve been on the road all day and I am quite exhausted ready on your lips at any interaction. This was why you didn’t even bother to put much effort into your looks, opting for a change of dress, and nothing more. No jewelry, no retouches to your hair. After all, it would just add to your part if you seemed slightly off.

Somehow, it turned out to be a regrettable decision, when numerous eyes turned to you as you took a step into the room, and even longer after that. Maybe not every head turned or the music came to an abrupt stop, the sprouting silence broken by collective whispers, but it happened, subtle yet enough to make itself known. You were given the same treatment for years at this point, but there was no getting used to it. Color that had been settling in your cheeks seemed to be permanent, at least for the night, not leaving your side as you took your place among your relatives. The expensive fan you were gifted by- God knows who, you were in no mood to remember it now, did nothing to relieve your suffering. 

And, countless other greetings don't help either. You fastened the movement of your hand, curling your lips into a forced smile. You could truly get tired from all these repeated words and gestures.

"I'm afraid I forgot to bring my dance card." You said again, to the third man who came with the same offer, Duke Caldo, all true except the part "forgot". You left it, willingly, just in front of your vanity mirror. The mirror which you desperately wanted to see yourself in right now, away from the ball. 

"A great pity." The exclamation didn't come from him, though. 

Your fan dropped from your hand and closed itself when it hit your wrist, dangling from the loop around your forearm as you heard that voice, no introduction ever needed. Perhaps, not even his voice was required, for there was always that unexplainable change in the quality of air in the rooms he occupied, like he was casting a spell on those around him, trickling magic dust with every step, a rare perfume. You wouldn’t use such metaphors if it wasn’t for the simple fact that your body always figured out his presence before your mind, catching a sense of that hypnotic essence. You often realized all the hairs on your arm standing up, or a tingling sensation in the back of your neck, breathing getting a bit harder, only to quickly locate him in your eyesight. 

"Lord Kenobi." It is said in a contemptful respect, a greeting and a goodbye. “Goodnight, my Lady.”

You didn’t even bother to mutter a proper response, and frankly, the Duke didn’t wait for one either. So, all your focus can be reserved on the man in front of you. 

You raised your arm as if intending to extend it so he could complete his small tradition of placing a kiss on the back of your hand, like he has done every time your paths crossed, even multiple times a day (that’s exactly how you noticed it was more than a simple salutation), (honestly, you liked it, his daring movement revealing a lot about his nature), only to flick it to reopen your fan. The gentlest gust of it licking your skin was more than enough now, making it all too pleasing to watch him save himself with a deep bow of his head, the annoyance quickly turning into a satisfied grin, like he didn’t expect anything less from you. 

“That looks even more beautiful in your hand.” He pointed at it, but his eyes wandered all over your body. You did the same, though there was little notice, his usual beige suit far too familiar. Your focus was always on the fact that he looked so good in it, taking in the broadness of his shoulders, or his defined arms exquisitely pronounced over the fabric.

Right. So it was his gift. Why did you ever entertain other possibilities?

You weren’t going to disappoint him by mentioning it is only here because your panicked maid accidentally packed the first item she saw, for you never took anonymous gifts. You didn’t need the attention they brought.

"And I couldn't thank you enough for it. I can practically name it my savior tonight." You answered, making a show of lavishing yourself in the stream it creates.

"My only source of pride is the fact that it perfectly blends with the rest of your attire. Now, I can proudly say I know your taste."

Classic Obi Wan. Even his compliments, far from usual, borderline scandalous. He's been peppering you with them ever since the start of your friendship and you were never immune to them. You outright enjoyed them. Especially now, they didn’t help the simmering tingles forming at the depths of your belly, amplified by weeks of solitude. “Only a part of it I’m afraid, but you’ll learn the rest in no time, don’t worry.”

“Can’t wait.” He grinned and scanned the room for prying eyes. Finding none, he made himself more comfortable by your side, hoping to spend the rest of his night with you. 

“I didn’t expect to see you tonight.” You admitted, somehow managing not to sound like you’re overly joyous of that not happening.

“I could say the same about you.” Was that excitement, or disappointment in his voice? Was he planning of politely ravishing other women, when you were not present to entertain him? Something told you those were not among his intentions, the smile on his face too honest, his twinkling gaze focused solely on you. 

You tilted your head and curled your lips. Touché. “It is nice to attend the ball your acquaintances are throwing, even if you arrive late. But for you, sir, I'm afraid people will actually think you're looking for a wife."

He rolled his eyes. There was a hint of offense in them just at the mentioning of the subject, but the playful type, not the exasperated type he uses for others. 

"Curious. The diamond of the season is also here. Isn't it strange that she still hasn't found someone, it's nearly the end of the season?" You inhaled sharply, dramatizing further. "Do you have something to do with it, Lord Kenobi?"

He scoffed, the impossibility of it reflected in his voice. "The diamond of the season?-"

"I thought you deserve nothing less." You explained, but he interjected.

"I'm only interested in one diamond." He said, initiating intense eye contact.

It was your turn to scoff, and run away from his gaze. "I was never the diamond."

"Only because you saw how better you were than the rest, and fled just before the start of the season." His eyebrows were raised, begging for a denial.

"I had planned that trip months ago." You simply stated. "And I came back halfway through summer, didn't I?"

"Just like now."

"Do I need to remind you who you have been spending time with since June?" 

"And where were you coming from tonight, ending your visit of- how long was it?"

"I am fond of traveling. Balls and banquets can entertain someone so far. " You shrugged, "Lord Kenobi, are you trying to say that you missed me?" 

"I could never claim otherwise." 

That was true from your perspective as well. All these years of constant traveling, and this year was the first time you missed what you left behind at home, even during the buzzing, pretense-filled months. None of it seemed that intolerable, and somewhat fun, if you dare to admit. You knew this impression was his doing, and now after your while spent apart, the feeling came back tenfold, almost making you squirm over such loose confessions.

That was it. That was the turning point of the night.

“Truth be told, the night is going much better than I dreamed of, and I almost regret forgetting my dance card.” You raised your chin, and sent him a look. “Would you be so kind to help me find it?” 

You could basically see the gears turning, a fire behind his eyes, fueling the desire growing in the depths of your belly. His gaze was piercing, even after he’d long decided, the truth known to both of you. Your heartbeats must’ve been visible, you imagined, and felt it skip a beat as he licked his lip. “Lead the way.”

Now that’s, how you ended up here.

However, as you look down at his face, the story gets blurry, perhaps outright loses its importance, abandoning your mind. His hair is tousled, a rebel strand in front of his eyes, and moves with every bounce. Your hands are too busy to hold onto his sweaty chest, slightly tugging on the auburn fuzz. You wanted to do that ever since he took his shirt off.

(Then again, you’re not sorry for the amount of time you couldn’t, drowning in him. The moment you felt his expert lips on yours, all your will to protest anything had died. Later, as his fingers joined the show, you quickly realized you were fine with what he gave, but he, ever the gentleman, let you prevail.)

It is a sight. And the moans that fall from his lips surpass the delicate melody the musicians are playing downstairs in every way, which can still faintly be heard. (You never thought an orchestra would accompany you during this, but here you were. It is a detail you’ll remember with a smile while looking back at it, but now, you couldn’t care any less.)

“You’re taking me so well.”  He starts to thrust his hips up slightly, meeting your rhythm, but never overtaking it.

“I know.” You giggle, but the reaction he’s taken notice of is your fingertips digging in further, and your walls fluttering around his cock.

When you start to falter a bit, perhaps due to the fatigue settling on your muscles embarrassingly not long after his words, or his mere presence clouding your brain, his fingers that have been resting on your thighs slowly ascend to your hips. The fingers drenched in your juices, another element that has the coil in your belly tighter. The next few strokes, with his guiding hand, touch something deep inside you, and your jaw hangs open.

“Fuck…” is the only word you can mutter, and he chuckles at it.

“Is that so?” He mocks, but brushes your loose ringlets with a single hand, and caresses your nipple on its way down. The latter shows his true disposition, and that drives you to be more vocal, if you weren’t already.

“You feel… so… good.” You can hardly say, as your puffy clit drag against his skin all so deliciously like this.

He twitches inside you at the compliment, and you throw your head back with a whine. Despite the fact that he would kill to see your face, he doesn’t push, enjoying the state he’s putting you in with his voice. Every praise that falls from his lips earns him a melodic moan, along with the feeling of you tensing and relaxing, always responding to his call in one way or another.

You’re one step away from being a doll at his bend, though you couldn’t care any less, not when you are this close.

He likes it, very very much. Yet, not enough to silence his wishes of how to ruin you, in the best way.

In a blink, you find yourself on your back, and him on top of you. That’s not the first thing you see, though. It is his hand, lifted from wherever it fell, catching your chin to turn your head to him. Sounds of panting are all there is, no movement, no words, not even your rapid heartbeats drumming in your ears seconds ago as if the world stopped for a second.  

His thumb caresses your lower lip, and you let it slip in. God, you can still taste yourself. The revelation has your objections at the change dead, your face twisting, yet he tsks thrice, capturing your attention.

“Let me see those eyes.” Obi Wan commands, and you have no choice but to oblige. “You look so good beneath me.” 

Somehow, his words have you flushing and squirming as if that was the most inappropriate thing happening in this room. Funny, how he breaks your will, and you let it. Against all the talk of your friendship, until an hour ago, you’d have lashed out at an equivalent demeanor, even said in affectionate terms. (Any other way is simply impossible, anyway.)  But, that hour proved itself to be much precious, and now with that glossy gaze, snatched right from the brink of climax, you focus on the doting aspect, how he cannot get enough of the image of you.

You start to writhe, the new emptiness inside you unbearable. “Touch me, Obi Wan…”

He's not proud of the way your begging has his cock leaking, though that hardly stops him. He lives for mutual pleasure, even just yours at the moment, yet you look so pretty like this, grasping the sheets. 

"Like this?" He slides his thumb further into your mouth, relishing the feeling of your tongue swirling around it immediately. Or course he wasn't expecting you to suck him off if you didn't want to, nor would he ever ask for it, he can't help but imagine the feeling, his hips rolling in seek of stimulation.

You shake your head, and his finger is freed with a pop. You frown as the sole contact you have with him is lost. It is a warning sign for him, the fragility of your dream-like state, a reminder of how he has to do better, if he wants to take control. As a gentleman, he wanted to give you everything you desired, but since it was your first time together, a terra incognita, he had to be sure of your limits, so he followed your wishes gladly. The wishes which were masterfully balanced versions of both of your needs. The same problem troubled you too of course, but you were a quick learner, a connoisseur of his taste in no time. The fact that it was very similar to yours was an exciting discovery, certainly a pleasant one, and was a great help, so great that it almost felt like cheating. While he took no issue with your tricks; the urge to take you on his terms, the compulsion to show you how he wants to cherish you couldn’t be suppressed any longer. He had to let you know.

He leans in closer, his arms bend as yours find his shoulders like a habit, “Like this?” He murmurs, right before brushing his lips against yours, effectively swallowing your whine. Though it was a sound of protest, all complementary sentiments die when he nips at your lower lip, and you open your mouth, lost in the sensation of his tongue licking yours, and his sweet essence. In contrast to his other needs taken good care of, he hadn’t taken enough of the feeling of our mouths joining. God, he spent hours imagining your mouth, curling into every shape as smart words spilled from it, enhancing his fascination with you. It fires the flames of haze further, even if he’s not actually properly touching you. Your hand roams his neck, then etches itself into his silky hair. You’ve done that a few times now (and found his response most addicting), but it is hardly satisfactory compared to the amounts you dreamed of doing during these last couple of months. You saw him prim and proper mostly, not a strand out of place, making you marvel at its excellence, and the itch to mess it up growing stronger each instance, a stark contrast to your surroundings. Also, there were times the infamous piece fell in front of his eyes, and sometimes even more disheveled than that, riding a horse, enjoying sports with his friends, and once after a bath, when your family visit started a little earlier than planned. You were always admiring the way it reflected light, creating almost a halo around his head, especially in sunlight. It is the first thing your eye is drawn to whenever you’re in the same place, a beacon of sorts. You never thought you’d be this amazed by hair, yet the moans he produces when you tug on it, add to your astonishment, and you’re not sure if you can look at it again, without being reminded of this moment.

He breaks the kiss as for you to catch your breath, for he has long kept you away from it. Still, he continues to pepper you with tons of them, scattered all across your jaw and neck, in search of that sweet spot that has you cursing. It is not a serious journey, in fact, he does more than press his lips against your skin properly, tease you with his open mouth, drag his tongue along the taut muscle, nip and outright bite, once.

“No marks-“ You protest. Futile. You should’ve warned before he started to nibble, way before he sank his teeth, but it has happened after all, and you can already feel blood settling on the sites of his attack. “What I am going to tell my maid now?”

“The truth.” He retorts. “Of how you led Lord Kenobi into our bed, and did dirty, unspeakable things with him.”

That earns him a harsh pull at his scalp, and a pat on his shoulder. He meets with your glaring gaze, and cheeks redder than a minute ago. So, he’s still on your good side. Barely.

“Apologies, my dear.” He takes the hand that smacked him, and places a peck onto your palm before placing it back. You can’t break the eye contact as he does so, something about his appearance, perhaps his position, or the charming contours of his face, or the way he deals with your anger keeps you from kicking him out. Caressing your open legs, he massages them ‘til they relax afresh, squeezing at the soft flesh. You hiss when his movement nears your inner thighs, thanks to his beard, and the climax it brought you. The gesture hints, still, there’s the matter of fire burning in your belly. “Couldn’t resist, you know me. Let me make it up to you.”

He wastes one more second to carve this image inside his head, then fulfills his promise. He likes the way you tremble while you wait, a whimper leaving your mouth at him taking his cock into his hand and stroking it a few times. God, how you wish that was your hand. Damn your stubbornness, and demand for compensation. You put extreme effort into staying still, releasing a shaky breath when he places the tip at your entrance.

Remember when he said “ruin”?

He doesn’t push it in, instead letting it slide up your slick folds, and tap against your clit. You nearly jolt at the touch, yet again tasting bliss, even if it is in mere drops. He repeats the action, and you sob, digging your nails into his shoulders. Maybe you’re the one leaving marks now, but you don’t care. Eye for an eye you can say, in retrospect.

“You’re so wet.” He can’t stop looking into your glistening core. He also can hear it, the squelching sounds echoing at his every movement. He knows you can too, that it calms your nerves, though they act up for different reasons. “All this for me?”

Unfortunately, you are late to realize he doesn’t take your moans for an answer. You can’t help it, you are unable to form words. Even if you gather the strength, they die out at your throat, especially under his piercing look. Fuck, he loves how cockdumb you’ve become for him.

He takes pity on you then, dropping his cock to briefly rest on your opening, and forces his fat tip in.

Your back arches, a throaty sound filling the room. He shushes right next to your ear, in an effort to calm you down as he slips the rest in. It is as if you’re taking him the first time, like you weren’t riding him moments ago.

“Fuck-“ That’s the only reaction, the only answer he needs. You fall back into the sheets, the first time he rolls his hips, and sets a new rhythm, a slow one to kindle the flame once more. Your hair probably getting tangled from the way it’s rubbing against the sheets, and your legs are split wide open. You feel every vein and ridge moving against your walls, the slight resistance disappearing in no time. His chest brushes against yours, and combined with the warmth of his breath, so close to yours, it’s easy to let go of your worries.

This is why you ended up here.

“Faster!” While he already feels great, it’s not the exact pattern to provide that sweet release, not in the timeframe you hoped.

“I want this to last, dear.”

Your eyes roll to the back of your head. A part of it due to irritation. Being subjected to that response before, he snickers to see you’re still you, even when you’re literally fucked out of your mind. As he does so, his lips skim yours. You take it, greedily, one hand first on his neck to ensure he stays, then to his unruly tress, aspiring to compel him into the middle ground. That earns you a few groans, yes, but his will doesn’t seem to falter even a little bit.

Perseverance, is a mutual quality, as you already know.

You slowly release the grip you have on his head, emphasis on slowly. It goes unnoticed, thanks to your timely bite, the same assault he once carried out. You don’t waste the access to his tongue, sucking on it. You’re not sure if his moans are increased in number, or if it feels more because you swallow every single one of them, but the fact that his beard starts to prick your cheeks harder gives you an idea.

Your free hand falls into sheets and slithers across the length of your body. Just a little more- you’re almost about to touch your –

His fingers wrap around your wrist instantly, dragging it up, a little further away from your face. You twist your neck, a wail coming out as you reject his kiss.

Only to be met by the sight of that said fingers running up your palm, and interlock themselves among yours.

Your breath hitches, for reasons unknown to you.

“Ah- ah -ah.” He tuts, though there’s not a hint of disappointment in his voice. “What kind of a gentleman would I be if I let you do all the work?”

You can’t believe one physical contact, and his words, are enough to carry you to that previous peak. Your pussy contracts around him, beyond your control, an indication of your closeness, nothing compared to before.

“Ngh- that’s it.” He encourages, “Just relax and take it.” That’s more sincerity than you’ve ever heard from him.

It goes on and on for a while, him doing exactly what he promised to do, and fulfilling his wishes in the process. He already knows this could go on ‘til morning, and he still wouldn’t be completely satisfied, longing for your presence the second he leaves the bed. Still, he continues, pushing himself to his limit, and that’s getting quite harder when you clamp on him that hard. He feels his cock leaking, begging for that sweet end.

When his arm that’s not supporting his weight travels down, caressing your hip before pressing his thumb to your clit, finally, you reward it with a whisper of his name, a sound he won’t dare to forget. Your back arches impossibly higher, and he has to lean back, abandoning his other hold.

Your limb stays in the spot he left it.

He curses at the realization, perhaps its effect mirroring yours when he first initiated the contact. Fuck, how are you so perfect? He snaps his hips harder, and circles his thumb, feeling it throb.

“Obi Wan-I’m c-“

He loves how your words are cut with the need to scream that you gulp down, only resigned to breathing as your face contorts with pleasure. “Cum for me, love.”

Your moans blend into each other, as he cannot stay still at the feeling of your walls squeezing him so tight. He holds your trembling thigh, fondling the soft flesh, adoring the way it spills from his grip. He doesn’t stop ‘til they settle again once more, and even a little longer than that, pulling out in the last minute to cover your belly with his spend. 

That act keeps you from turning to your side, and feeds the desire to hug the sheets, a soft but firm ground for your senses to return. You're not complainant of it anyways, you have a far better view in front of you, defined muscles undulating with each heavy breath, glistening due to the light coat of sweat covering them, lips puffy and slightly flushed with blood, as well as his cheeks. You always thought he was devilishly handsome, but this, this is something else. The world should consider itself lucky, or it would bend to his will just from his looks. Or unlucky, for the honor is bestowed upon a handful of people. 

He believes he's blessed with the sight upon him, too. Still holding onto your thigh, he delights in spontaneous tremors that possess it. If he looks closely, he's sure he can see the faint mark he left. Your hair is sprawled around, much in contrast to the delicate up-dos you and every noblewoman fashioned, its most natural form, and the intimacy of it definitely causes a small breakdown. You belong in a painting, depicting goddesses and nymphs, a grace outside the limits of time and culture. Your droopy lids and tired pull at the corners of your mouth fill his chest with pride and more adoration, like after his every successful attempt to elicit a reaction from you. It happens often, thanks to the understanding that grows between the two of you, but every example is still treasured in in his mind.

“Well, I don’t know any better way to spend the night.”

You giggle. “I agree.”

“We should’ve done this before.”

Your lifted brows are the perfect answer. Like it’s that easy.

But he has a point, too.

In the comfortable silence, he gets up from bed, a sigh at the roar coming from downstairs, drowning the music. That’s still going, huh? You watch as he wets the nearest towel, and returns, cleaning the mess with unexpected gentleness that it almost tickles. There’s no aim to steal one more touch at his movements, no personal gain except an easy conscience, and even that is a stretch because it’s most natural to him, his understanding of tenderness.

“Well, thank you, sir.” You sit up, with a yawn, and scooch backward to your pillows as he retreats to give himself the same treatment. “And my nightgown, please.” You point to it, and amusingly follow his subtle headshake, and efforts to hand it over. He hesitates for a second at the last minute, considering rebellion, a last joke. You see it, and snatch the fabric from his grip before he can tighten it. He can feel it sliding over his skin, the light material flying. You slip it on, aware of his voyeur. with a victorious smile cut too short as exhaustion creeps into your bones. You’re no different, in any case, settling into the fluffy pillows, curiously examining each piece of clothing he puts on from afar, the unwritten rule of his habits, his hidden glances at your mirror in a feeble pursuit to tame his messy hair. You’re willing to be charged guilty for that.

He stalls, though, you can feel it after a while, around the time sleep clouds your vision. How could anyone blame him for not wanting to leave, carve your picture to his mind, and calm his yet again straining cock at it?

“You should be going. Servants are going to be wandering these corridors for orders, soon.” Your heart winces at the warning, because he's not the type to need it, or disregard you to put you at any risk. But your cognation runs thin, and he needs to know the dangers he might face. 

"True. Right. You're correct." Is that a stutter? "Good night, my lady."

"Good night, Lord Kenobi.

"Glad to be of help in stretching your legs." 

The cushion falls short to exactly hit him, but the sentiment is clear. 

In the morning, you uncover the reasons behind his diversion. 

Bastard signed every slot in your dance card.

[theprismyyy]

Honestly, I read on several different platforms, both here on Tumblr, and on Wattpad, ao3 and others... and so, in general, they are all great apps with great stories to read, but there is one thing that bothers me about all of them, mainly and especially on Ao3, and the amount of disgusting content involving serious subjects like incest, rape and others that I won't bother mentioning here; What irritates me most about this is the lack of filter in the app.I'm only saying all this because the following happened, I was simply reading some stories about Gwen Stacy on the said app (ao3) when I came across atrocities like a fanfic whose plot was literally an incestuous relationship between Gwen and her father....man , I just wanted to read some fluffy fluff and not come across unnecessary and unsolicited material, I didn't bother opening this (obviously) and I didn't even want to, I was honestly disgusted... Also, I came across another whose plot idea was even more horrible... I don't know, it all just made me think that maybe these apps need more serious and firm rules and punishments in the face of these things; such serious and criminal topics being written in a sick manner to normalize and entertain more disgusting and sick people is still dark, it's even darker how little we talk about it and how little the developers seem to care, I imagine dealing with demands so big ones must be extremely difficult but we don't even see a movement to deal with these things...IT DOESN'T MATTER IF IT'S JUST A CHARACTER, IT DOESN'T MATTER HE OR SHE DOESN'T EXIST, FUCK YOU AND YOUR SICK SHIT THAT USES THIS AS AN "ARGUMENT" TO WRITE CRIMINAL THINGS AND FEED YOUR FANTASIES DISGUSTING!!!! WHAT WE WRITE AND CONSUME SAYS A LOT ABOUT THE TYPE OF PEOPLE WE ARE AND IF YOU CONSUME IT AND DON'T SEE A PROBLEM WITH THIS TYPE OF CONTENT THEN PLEASE FUCK YOU

Anyway, this was just me venting because honestly I was extremely uncomfortable, I just wanted to read some nonsense and I had to come across something so sickening.

Edit: Apparently this is necessary as I may not have been as specific on some points and some people don't seem to understand (or don't want to understand)

It wasn't a personal "attack" on the Ao3 platform, I just used it as an example because that's usually where this type of work ends up appearing more.

2. Yes, I know and use the filtering system, Still, I think they are very often very flawed... besides, many of the people who write this type of content use tags that have nothing to do with the plot of the story to achieve greater visibility.

3. Yes... teenagers have sex 😱 wow what an incredible discovery!!! I know a lot of movies, shows, etc. portray this openly, I personally don't feel comfortable writing smut in general and everyone has their own opinion about it, but I understand there are a lot of writers who do this normalization and trivialization of a CRIME!

4. I know that many people use writing as a coping mechanism, but I think it is very unlikely that a person who has been through a situation, such as rape, for example, You'll write about it like it's something sexy or the best experience you've ever had in your life, like a lot of these types of writers do.

5. Yes, one of the joys of writing is that we can explore the deepest, most complex aspects of humanity without directly hurting anyone, and I love that, but we need to take responsibility for that.

6. There was a guy here who literally said that it's because of people like me that you can't have porn on Tumblr anymore...but why would there need to be porn here? Why just not open on an adult site like pornhub or xvideos?

7. I was indirectly called a facist through a Hashtag.... not supporting the normalization of rape, incest, etc. apparently makes me a facist😍

(I really am completely willing to hear opinions and comments, but I will not tolerate disrespect in the comments. That's it and thank you)

[crimeronan]

hey what is wwaitsoatl?

oh! it's what we are is the sum of a thousand lies, my most popular toh fic by FAR and the thing most toh people here started following me for. back before i got sucked down the princess luz hyperfixation rabbit hole. it's a fic that takes more work to write than any of my others because it has an incredibly involved drafting & editing process. bc i am a perfectionist.

the premise is a canon divergent timeline wherein belos suspects that hunter lied to him at the end of hunting palismen. and completely wrecks hunter's shit forever. and infects him with curse goop in the process. and darius (who, Very Importantly, does not yet have a friendly rapport with hunter) trips over the kid's half-dead body.

and freaks.

and kidnaps hunter n takes him to the owl house. bc that's the one surefire place of refuge on the isles.

there are a bunch of emotional threads, hence why it's novel-length and not even finished yet despite being about just four characters chilling in a house together.

mainly it's about:

hunter unraveling his cognitive dissonance and cult brainwashing in an AU where he doesn't have all of hollow mind's answers; his feelings are Incredibly complicated and messy & he gets incredibly mean and snarly about it

darius grappling with the fact that his own grief and resentment blinded him to a kid who Very Much Needed Him, darius dealing with the fact that actually he never DID grieve his mentor or his mentor's dead family

darius and hunter developing a rapport in a timeline where hunter very much has Not broken out of all the cop shit that darius disdains So Much. so darius is so fucking exasperated and tired all the time

eda trying desperately to help hunter learn to live with a curse / chronic pain / chronic illness, while having very little faith in herself to begin with

luz feeling Horrifically guilty about hunter's curse and injuries, bc she thinks she should have clocked the abuse and brought him home with her or otherwise stopped it

hunter developing an almost immediate and pathological emotional attachment to luz because of her kindness, which complicates all of his complicated feelings WAAAAAY MORE

eda, darius, AND luz all desperately trying to get hunter to admit that he's been abused and that what happened wasn't his fault. you would not believe how fucking long it takes.

i'm actually really, really, Really proud of it -- it's rare for one of a writer's best works to be their most popular, but this genuinely is one of mine. if not my best work, period. there's a lot of nuance and messiness and emotional complexity and grief and arguing that i'm SO happy with.

also, despite the subject matter, it's often extremely lighthearted. some of the funniest dialogue i've ever written is strewn throughout all these serious emotional threads.

i'd apologize for how long this response is but this story is a heart project and has 67,000 published words on ao3 so far. (the chapter i'm writing rn will likely be another ~8,000 words, then there are a couple more chapters to come.) so there's a lot to say!!

it's my most popular ao3 fic for any fandom, ever, in the 12 years i've been on the site. the response has been WILD. if you sort by kudos, it's the 31st most favorited owl house fic Of All Time, the 7th most popular fic involving darius, and the 5TH most popular hunter & luz relationship fic. again, of all time. which is. insane.

people have been very kind and patient with me having been too sick to work on it for a while. there was a seven-month break between chapters 8 and 9, and if i finish chapter ten soon then there'll have been a nine-month break between chapters 9 and 10. so i don't know how many people are actually going to come back to read it, a lot of ppl have moved on from the fandom and such. but i'm extremely extremely extremely grateful to everyone who's given it a look!

[loverofpiggies]

Hey guys, I got something I’m ready to talk about under the cut. It’s super long! And it’s pretty serious, so feel free to scroll past. It’s also about some serious subject matter regarding transphobia, so if you’re not in a good place and ready to read about something like that, take care of yourself first and foremost. Okay?

Okay.

Hey guys, I’ve been doing a lot of self discovery these last few…. I guess technically my whole life, but I only got serious about focusing and working on it these last few years, and it has to do with my history of transphobia. I want to talk about my journey of growth, and what I’ve done to grow, and maybe it could help anyone else dealing with similar issues.

I was a pretty…. Hateful kid, to put it lightly. I was very angry, VERY angry, and obsessed over all this anger and hatred I had at everyone, but especially at myself. I’ve been in therapy as far back as I can remember, and more meds than I’d like to admit, trying to figure out what was ‘wrong’ with me. Which was a lot, by the way.

Anyway, around 2016, I got really serious about therapy. As a kid I didn’t take it seriously, but by 2016 I knew I needed help. I realized how my anger was ripping me apart, and how deeply it was rooted in hating myself. So, without therapy, and without the tools of therapy, I’d try to alter thoughts as they’d happen. I’d see someone dressed in a way I didn’t like? My thoughts immediately turned to hatred and judgementality. I taught myself to step back, and go, ‘hold on. You don’t know them. That’s a lot to assume about someone you’ve never talked to.’ and it helped curb a lot of my most angry and judgemental thoughts, at least, I thought so. In truth, all it did, was bury the issue, instead of addressing it.

Going into therapy seriously this time as an adult, I started unburying my own trauma, small bit by small bit. I started journaling a lot of it out, and my therapist put it best. Going to therapy is like trying to untangle a ball of paperclips. You might be like ‘ah, I just want to take this one paperclip out’ but it’s attached to so many other things you wouldn’t have guessed, and eventually you just. End up with the whole ball. You go to therapy for one ‘small’ thing, oops, you’re talking about this huge other thing that you never knew was related.

Also at this point, I was pretty serious about my spirituality. I was sick of being so angry and judgemental, I got deep into meditation and learning about compassion, because… well I lacked so much of it for so long. My favorite quote, that helped me grow the most, is “If your compassion does not include yourself, it is incomplete” by Jack Kornfield. Another one I adore, is, “Holding onto anger is like drinking poison and expecting the other person to die.” attributed to lots of people so I’m not actually sure who the original quoter is. If you watched a lot of my early streams, I was pretty obsessed with kindness and spirituality at that point! Half the time the streams turned into talks about that, lol. Sorry if that was a bit much, I was in a ‘place’ at that time.

After realizing how angry I was, and being so exhausted from it, I swung the opposite way pretty hard. I knew what it felt like to be angry and judgemental, and hurt people because of it. I’ve seen people I was very close to in my life, destroy relationships because of anger. And I was trying so hard to make up for it, to stop being so angry. I didn’t want to hurt people anymore, I didn’t want to hurt myself, and I wanted to be kind and understanding about perspectives I spent so long cutting off. And the therapy helped, a lot! I worked on a lot of deep issues, and my mind, more and more, started being less angry. I also got on meds, because we *finally* figured out what my issue was, and got me on the right medication. At least, once I got over my ‘I don’t need medication’ phase. Which was an absolute blessing.

I thought to myself, ah ha! Look at me, look at all this progress! I’m not angry or judgemental anymore. I’ve opened up so many doors, learned so many new things, I’m okay now, I don’t need any further help.’ With all the progress I had made, I really believed I didn’t need anymore work. The growth I made in just a couple years was astounding, and I wasn’t where I needed to be, but by this point I had the tools I needed to work on things myself. This was what I told myself anyway.

Also around this time, I was making my first close trans friends. And there was this weird, nasty feeling in my head, that I thought I had gotten past. These angry, judgemental thoughts cropped back up again, and they shocked me. I thought I was past this sort of anger, this judgementality. I didn’t want to look at it. I didn’t want to acknowledge it, or look deeper. I didn’t want to think that I could be so mean again, especially after all the work and growth I put in. So, I shoved it away, as hard as I could. I didn’t want to see it, and I didn’t want to think about it.

The problem with trying to shove angry, and judgemental, hateful thoughts away, is they don’t actually go away. They stay, and force themselves out in other ways. They come back as ‘jokes’ or ignorant angry comments. They come out subconsciously, as a defensive reaction. But… I didn’t want to acknowledge that I might be transphobic, or have transphobic thoughts. I didn’t want to be angry. So when I’d ‘joke’, or make a comment, I’d feel ashamed, and try to bury it deeper. And deeper. And it just made it worse. I also used my therapy as a defense mechanism too, without realizing it. “I’m fine now, I’ve gone to therapy, I don’t need any more work, I’m fine!” So. I buried it. I think there’s a pattern here.

After years of therapy, you’d think I’d realize what was going on. I was trying to bury this, the way I tried to bury all my anger for so many years. I knew from experience, that burying the issue does not work, and just makes it so much worse in the long run. But, I didn’t actually realize I was burying it. I was so deep in my own denial, that I couldn’t see it. Because there was a lot of deep shame there, too. I had so many amazing trans friends, and the experiences they had dealt with by this time, JUST for being trans, horrified me. I never, *ever* wanted to be a source of pain for them. But I’d still make comments, or ‘jokes’. Then, I’d feel horrible, crushing guilt, and try to force that bad side of me down even further.

By this point, a good majority of my friend group was either trans, or non binary. I loved them so much, and didn’t want to acknowledge my issues, or the fact that I had thoughts that could hurt them. Eventually, one of my trans friends approached me, and my god, I’m so lucky to have them in my life. But they approached me, telling me “I know you don’t mean to hurt anyone. I think… maybe it’s time to talk to your therapist about this.”

And… they were right. I spent so much time in denial, once they said this to me, it clicked. Yes, I do need to talk to someone. I can’t live like this anymore. If compassion is as important to me as I’ve always said, I need to work on any parts of me that still hold anger. But I was also so terrified, after spending so long trying to avoid it, now I was going to open up to someone? And say whatever my thoughts were out loud? What if I couldn’t be fixed? What if I was destined to be hateful and angry forever, no matter how hard I worked? I didn’t want to hear my own thoughts. I didn’t want to see this awful side of me, after spending so long trying to ‘defeat it’. I didn’t even know how dark it got, and my mind conjured all sorts of nasty ideas of how ‘bad’ of a person I was.

So. I walked into my therapist’s office, and said… out loud. “I think I’m transphobic. And I hate it.” I’ll leave a lot of details out, because it’s pretty personal, but I’ll go over the important things I discovered. After she let me speak for a bit, we turned to my gender identity. She asked me things in detail. I’m a cis woman, so I didn’t think I had any issues with my gender identity, so her questions confused me, but deeper than that, they scared me. There was still something inside of me that wanted to fight back, to protect me from whatever was coming. But I pushed forward.

As we pulled apart the paperclips, and started getting to the root of my true, deeper issue, I started to realize something. See, I’m pretty confident and comfortable in my skin. At least, I believed I was. I told myself, anyway. In a similar vein as I used ‘compassion’ to shove away parts of myself I hated, I used ‘confidence’ to shove away the insecure parts of myself as well. Which, I mean, couldn’t be a more false version of confidence OR compassion if you ask me.

I started to realize that I had a deep insecurity about my own femininity. A deep, crippling insecurity. See, my face and body are pretty androgynous. With long hair, I can look like a girl, but with short hair I can look pretty boyish. I don’t have much of a figure, or a chest, so I can be mistaken for a boy under lots of circumstances. That, combined with the fact that tight clothes are uncomfortable for me, meant overall I looked very unfeminine. And I was bullied a lot for it, growing up. Kids would call me a boy. In highschool, I was made fun of a lot, too. I’d be made fun of for not looking like a ‘girl’. This was only one factor of my bullying at the time, like I mentioned before. I had a lot of pretty severe behavior issues, so it sorta made me a prime target for bullying. I wanted to be viewed as a girl, as a woman. But because my looks didn’t fit enough into their ‘boxes’, I was made fun of. I was laughed at, and I can’t tell you how often people would say things like ‘are you SURE you’re a girl down there?’.

And this was the smoking gun. I finally had the realization I needed. This is hard to write, but. Because I didn’t fit in the mold of what my peers thought a woman was, I felt guilt, and I felt shame. And I shoved it away. And realized… subconsciously, I was doing what was done to me, to my trans friends. To the trans community. And it hurt. It hurt so much, to realize what I was doing. But now it also made so much sense. The guilt, the trying to ‘play it off’, the avoidance, the burying. It was so painful to grow up with those comments, that my mind was trying to shove away and hide me from realizing I was continuing the cycle of pain.

Not only that, but in therapy I learned something else. I’m still working through this, but. I realized as well I have dysphoria, and some mild dysmorphia. The fact that I was perceived so differently then I felt about myself in my adolescence, followed me deeply into adulthood.

I realized that when I would have friends talk about dysmorphia, my defense mechanism would kick in, to avoid me thinking that I might have the same issue. In fact, all my defense mechanisms would kick in, to avoid me from reliving the bullying and the trauma.

And anyone who knows anything about therapy, knows how much this shit hurts. It hurts SO much to open up wounds you’ve tried to hide, to look in and see where the real issue lies. To realize that maybe you haven’t been as kind as you wanted, even if it wasn’t intentional.

But… after the tears, and the pain of reliving this, and ripping open all the doors I was trying to close, to shove away… there was relief. I finally knew what was wrong. And that I knew where to start working. How to start helping myself grow, and be better.

So many things clicked, and my issues with transphobia evaporated. Finally facing it, finally confronting it, and realizing the deeper sides of myself, took away all that power my anger was holding onto. I had to reteach myself that, ‘hey, thanks for trying to protect me, but I’m okay now. You don’t have to protect me anymore.’

I’m still working on my issues with my femininity. After realizing this, I went through my closet and got rid of everything that made me feel ‘unpretty’. I went thrift shopping, and found looser clothes that still made me feel like a girl. I’m slowly growing my hair out, to see if I’m happier with long hair, or happier with short. In truth, I’m rediscovering myself again. It’s easier to look in the mirror.

The defensive reactions went away. The ‘jokes’ disappeared, and I didn’t have to fight to bury anything anymore. And I could be the supportive friend I always deeply wanted to be. To push back at a society that doesn’t like people ever sitting outside specific ‘molds’. To help make a world be safer for anyone who doesn’t align with the mainstream idea of what being a person is. To what being a man, or a woman is. To being whatever a human is.

This has been very long. But. I wanted to go through the entire experience, every step, to show how I worked on myself. And how I grew, from this darker, angrier, unhappy version of myself. And that maybe it could help anyone else who’s had the same experience. I also wanted to go through all of this, to show the steps I’ve made. And to my trans and nonbinary friends? To all the people in the trans community that I may have hurt in the past? I’m sorry. Genuinely, and truly. I never wanted to be another source of pain, especially to trans people, who already experience so much discrimination.

This was a painful experience to go through, but one I definitely needed. I’m still journaling, working on my issues and working on becoming a happier me. I had to take my time to discover myself, and wanted to open up about my journey to yall. I was finally ready to talk about this.

Anyway. I hope you have a beautiful day, and I hope every day is happier than the last. Cheers yall.

[itsabouttimex2]

I love your platonic yandere writing! Your characterization and dialogue is one of my favorite things. You can tell you really thought hard about how these characters might get to this state. I wanted to say I also love your multi-target Primal Moon Sun Wukong! He's down from tens of thousands of subjects! Let him have a whole family to grab up and hoard! (RIP Y/N and Macaque. I'd say MK too, but honestly, Primal Moon MK seems pretty here for it lol.) (Also not gonna lie, Y/N is the center focus of course (and special RIP to them for being a human caught up in the middle of a group of monkeys! It's exactly as stressful and dangerous-feeling as it should be!), but Macaque's particular dynamic with Wukong and MK have caught me heart and soul here. The actual monkey social structures you're translating have really made this my favorite part of this AU, honestly. It's really good!)

Oh, thank you so much! I spend a lot of time cross-referencing my dialogue to that of the characters I write, so I’m glad my efforts have been paying off!

I really liked the idea of Sun Wukong going yandere for multiple people- part of his backstory is that he just wanted more and more.

So when his inhibitions are artificially stripped away, he sort of temporarily devolves in terms of character development, going back to “I want everything I can have!” but in a familial way, this time. So he builds himself a new troop for the week, no matter how much Y/N and Macaque might try to resist.

As you’ve said it, MK is living for this. One loving family member who doesn’t want to leave you under any circumstances (SW) and two who can’t. (You and Mac)

It helps that being second in command gives him a serious sense of control and power, which he does exert frequently.

I’m glad you think it felt stressful and dangerous! The Primal Moon definitely… messes demons up, and none of the three are the best at dealing with it.

Macaque definitely comes the closest, but he still has a lot of his own nonsense to deal with, like his own overwhelming urge to obsessively engage in stress-relieving behaviors. This can easily lead to Sun Wukong and MK putting him under lock and key, if not outright physically restraining the shadow demon to keep him from accidentally committing some form of self-harm.

I’m glad you like the dynamic he has with these two! Macaque tries to portray himself as some kind of “edgy badass”, but the Primal Moon strips away his ability to do so- there’s so much that Mac needs now, like affection and reassurance and warmth. And, even if he gets them, there’s still the harmful stereotypies that he’ll engage in, any form on self-soothing that makes things feel better.

So restraints and forced cuddles and genuine love from his “troop”… though Y/N is the only one he openly accepts the doting of, given their respect of his boundaries.

And I’m super glad you like the social structures! Monkeys are absolutely fascinating creatures, after all- if also brutal and complex.

Thanks so much for the comment!

[mourninglamby]

its actually cool to see people dissect minecraft roleplay like this, like to me yeah it was just a block game but the dark subjects matters just intertwined in a way that made it very... strange? i guess?

i feel like to really get it you have to have a certian amount of respect for the story and medium but also scorn of it, like i have sooo many problems with how things went in a million different ways, but i also think that when it worked it worked wonders. so its interesting to me for someone to dig deeper then the surface and really see it for what it was objectively

i hate that its attatched to the minecraft youtuber fandom in general because for the majority of time i was wathcing I was soley in it for a story, I dont think i even checked out a non story realated stream until like... june of that year

and i hate dream but like you said him being there and playing such a character just ads to the levels of weirdness and rawness

c!tommy got me through a dark dark time in my life, esp exile. I dealth with abuseful neglect and manipulation all my life, and i was in deep bouts of depression when those streams were coming out. but literally seeing a character portray such a raw and ugly realality of those things and yet still get back up again was comforting and cathartic

to me it was the colaboration between actor and audience that really made it unlike anything else, and also what really led to its destruction. but im glad it was there when i needed it

This is well said anon and I’m so sorry you went through something like that. Dsmp found me at a very terrifying time in my life in regards to trauma. I don’t want to get into it just as I’m sure you don’t either, but when youve been a victim of abuse, you gain a perspective that nobody else has. Your mind is permanently altered. We see things that might not be as easy to detect let alone digest for those who havent experienced that reality. or even people who are currently working through that trauma who don’t understand how to deal with it or approach it yet. And that’s not good nor bad. It just is.

I think it’s. Hard. It’s very hard to talk about. And it’s by design! I definitely agree some of the performances were amazing but with very little consideration for what to do next or how to conclude those arcs, things got messy quickly and I think they relied on their dogmatic rabid fans to deflect any serious criticism of that. And I expected them to! I expect people who tread dangerously to know what they’re doing, but they didn’t know what they were doing. That became clear to me very quickly.

And ya it is still very important to me as well… I have never seen myself in another victim in fiction quite as well as I have c!tommy. And I have found so many like minded people that I cherish and love so much. I just got back from hanging out with someone who I got close with online during dsmp! So as disgusting and scary as the community was, yes, I am also very glad it was here when I needed it. Because I needed it.

I hope we can all continue to heal from these experiences and move on to make/consume kinder art together 🌈💫💗

(Oh also I didnt/don’t(it’s complicated) care about the real people either. I actually was so detached I believed dsmp was all they did! It’s crazy how much of a second thought a lot of this was in hindsight. Which is both infuriating and worrying)

[xerith-42]

Minecraft Diaries Stoner Headcanons

Part 2 in the Aphverse Stoner Series!

Disclaimer: I haven't watched Season 3! I mean, I have, but I don't remember any of it other than that Blaze was in it-- And I just checked the wiki and he's a villain? Uhm. No, he isn't. Hatsune help me I'm going to have to make a whole post about that now... anyways, pretend Blaze is just like another guard Irena gathered because she just collects them like they're pokemon.

Blaze our beloved to start us off. Uh, pipe weed is really common in Ru'aun, it's actually a primary export. And well, Blaze is a pretty big fan of it. Once when he's smoking weed with his friend, he comes to a realization.

"Listen, listen. We use earth with the plant, fire by lighting it, and air to inhale it. What we're missing is water." I am saying that Blaze made the first bong in the MCD universe. Or that he at least came up with it and was credited for the original idea. These two are very proud of their idea and want to spread it everywhere.

Pipe weed is not allowed at the guard academy, and guards are expected to remain sober, even though alcohol is okay?? Doesn't really make sense to a lot of new cadets, including Laurance, who's able to smuggle it in, and hide it from Garroth.

Vylad does actually smoke pipe weed, particularly while on his own during those 15 years. It helps relax their muscles, and causes a sort of numbness that helps keep the calling quiet.

When he tells Laurance of this, both of them share it together at some point.

Dante used to smoke weed with Laurance on slow nights in Phoenix Drop, and even smoked it with Nicole a few times. He quit when he found out Nana was pregnant.

The number one smoker is Travis. His mom had a stock pile of it he found, enough to last years, and it's one of the main things he brings with him to Ru'aun.

When Travis and Blaze meet, they are instant friends. I don't know what happens in Season 3, but this is all that matters to me. They would be BESTIES!!

Despite being banned by the church, Zane is in a position of power so the rules don't apply to him. He never does it when he has something serious going on, but when Zane has some downtime, he'll light up a bowl to take the strain out of his shoulders.

A downside of being a Shadow Knight is that your lungs are much more used to inhaling smoke and dealing with heat thanks to the Nether, so they have some insane tolerance. Like, Vylad was smoking so much, and Laurance is never not frustrated at how much he has to go through in a single sitting just to feel something.

And Aaron? When he was a father? And a Lord?? Of course he was smoking. He was very careful about it, and kept it away from Jacob. And as he traveled with the rest of the cast, he was always careful to hide it from the kids. He didn't quite mind if anyone else saw, as long as they were smart enough not to ask for it.

Travis is not smart enough.

Also Aaron likes wearing the bandana when he accidentally gets a little too high so no one can see how bloodshot his eyes are. Irena can tell by the way he stumbles a little more than usual.

Zoey? Pot head. She's literally an immortal elf, she has tried every drug Ru'aun has ever had and then some. She stops smoking it as much when she's taking care of the kids, but after the group is gone for a few years and she spends more nights searching for a way to bring them back, she picks it back up to try and seem less stressed when people talk to her.

I feel like all Lords smoke just a little. Like, it's such a stressful job. You're constantly having to care for so many people, be a master of subjects you might not have studied, and who knows when one day you wake up to the news that you have to ready yourself for war. People need a way to relieve the stress.

Except Irena. She tried it once when she caught Aaron smoking and it tasted so bad and she did not enjoy the feeling at all. When she becomes friends with Blaze he tries to coax her into it, but she never caves, and he backs off.

LUCINDA on the other hand!! She's a witch! She's a bit of an herbalist! Does she know the perfect growing conditions for the plant of origin and how to cultivate it's harvest for maximum output?? You bet your ass she does!

Blaze x Lucinda x Travis polycule when?

The first time Lucinda and Blaze meet each other he tells her about his innovation of using glass devices to create water vapor that you can smoke, and Lucinda very eagerly drags him into her brewing room and just proudly goes "I have a cauldron!! >:)" And Blaze gets so excited!! He's already trying to figure out what he would have to custom order to work with this, but he needs to try it.

Wait why is that adorable I need to write that now.

[effemar]

hi are there any trc fics you would recommend? (saw your tags on that one fandoms with good fic post)

ohhhhh tumblr user after my own heart...

First of all, some of my thoughts on the subject. I love fanfiction -- both as a phenomenon and as a genre of writing. I have a deep and sincere appreciation for the earnest engagement with media it fosters, the creative potential it holds, and the way it can be truly and deeply bad. This being said, what I think makes a fic good is different from what makes a book or a movie good. To me, a good piece of fanfiction is simultaneously a story and a piece of analysis. It should respond to the work it's based on, even (or perhaps, especially) to the detriment of its functionality as a standalone narrative.

This is all to say that the fics I'm recommending here rely heavily on knowledge of the books, and their main merit is in how they engage with the canon narrative. So bear that in mind.

TRC has a lot of fic in a variety of niches and tones. I will try to give you a diverse sampling. That being said, the vast majority of TRC fic that exists is Adam/Ronan (because fandoms are predictable like that) which means the recommendations here are slanted that way.

In no particular order:

Son of the Nuclear A-Bomb -- This is the fic I recommend most among this selection. A clear divergence from canon, it nevertheless extrapolates perfectly on existing themes, to the point that it straight-up predicted several plot points regarding Ronan's family in The Dreamer Trilogy. It's the TRC fic of all time.

Out for Re-henge -- Among TRC fics, there's a surprisingly substantial percentage that are, simply and exclusively, about Blue and Ronan having platonic bonding moments. It's just two teenagers having unmagnificent adventures. Like, as a distinct genre. I've never observed this in any other fandom. You can find more of these under the 'Ronan Lynch & Blue Sargent' relationship tag, with Gen checked as the work category. There's some real gems.

empire that runs on its own -- MIND THE TAGS. I said I'd give you diversity, so I'm giving you diversity. I hesitate to recommend this fic usually, as it can be unpleasant to read and has genuinely upsetting subject matter, but if I'm going to talk about how good TRC fic is, I have to pull out the big guns. It's genuinely incredible work. There's imagery and themes in this that still echo in my head, years after I first read it.

feels better biting down -- Everything by this author is incredible, but I enjoy this fic in particular because it's set in an unexplored bit of time before the series actually starts. It has a unique, lethargic tension that mimics the state of the characters' relationship at this point. It is almost pointedly unromantic, despite dealing with characters who we know have/will have a romantic dynamic during the events of the books.

my bones into your bones -- This fic frustrates me so much. It's incredibly emotionally intense, it has lines that are tattooed on the inside of my eyelids, and it's completely and unapologetically About People Fucking so I can't recommend it to anyone without paralyzing embarrassment. I skipped over this fic in the tag for like three years because of this, but eventually I decided to see what all the fuss was about, and gave it a try. When I tell you it's good, I mean that I felt like I'd been put through the fucking laundry.

Those are mostly pretty serious fics, so here's some light(er) runner-ups as palate-cleansers.

see you somewhere, someplace, sometime -- Ronan assholery, feat. Declan

Hey, Brother (PUNKBITCH) -- Ronan assholery, feat. Blue

in your manner of speaking -- Ronan assholery, feat. Adam (are you beginning to notice a pattern)

[linesonscreens]

Stuff I Watched in 2024 – Godspeed (Cartoon Pilot):

What is it?

Godspeed is a 30 min pilot that was Kickstarted by the guy who made Final Space, an absolutely wonderful show which is sadly now lost media (please consider pirating it from somewhere if you get the chance). It's about a young woman named Iris and her struggles to survive on a post-apocalyptic earth after any hope for rescue has long since gone.

Things of Note:

Available for free on YouTube so it's a real easy watch. I watched it on BluRay though because I helped fund it (Yes, my name is in the credits somewhere).

Content warning for some pretty bleak subject matter including grief and suicide. It's handled well for what it's worth.

I'm both really happy that Olan Rogers got this done and really impressed at how quick the turnaround was.

I really think that Final Space fans will like this one. It feels a lot like that show did in it's more serious moments.

Animation is a bit choppy but the colors are very nice and it's got a good atmosphere. I suspect a full show would look phenomenal.

You don't get much time with the characters but what you do get is fairly impactful.

It's a bit meh in the humor department, which is weird for an Olan Rogers deal, but humor is barely a focus so who cares. I can see a full show developing this aspect (specifically the robot friend) into something pretty good.

My biggest complaint is actually the DVD menu music. It's only ten seconds long which meant it looped in a very obvious way a LOT before I actually started the thing. Such a weird and obvious oversight.

No, you don't understand. I ~really~ think you will enjoy this if you were a fan of Final Space.

Final Verdict:

A solid start to what could be a pretty engaging show. I really want this one to succeed.

Stuff I've watched so far:

Godspeed

Orion and the Dark.

Day Job

--------------------

I actually have a bunch of these I've been putting off doing so I'm going to try and just hammer them out over the next few days. Apologies in advance for people who are just here for the Peanuts stuff.

As always, let me know if there's anything particularly good out in the animation world that I should see. I'm always looking for new stuff to watch.

[crippled-peeper]

(same anon) so if i punch myself in moments of distress, even if i do my best to NOT punch myself- would that be a tic? this is something that happens when im in extreme distress and a lot of the time no matter how hard i try i still end up punching myself in the face rather hard. its really one of the only things that happens to me that even resembles a tic so it confuses me

I’m really sorry you go through that, having struggles with the impulsion to self-harm can be scary and isolating

Self-injury and self-harm are not “voluntary” in the sense that you willingly chose to hurt yourself and that’s what you wanted to do. I don’t think anyone WANTS to hit themselves, its just the only way they feel they can get relief. when they have no control over their environment or what is happening to them, in response to abuse, and because they learned that self-hitting or self-injuring provides a very temporary sensation of relief or distraction. that doesn’t mean it’s good, but a lot of people resort to it when they feel trapped and under attack

By saying self-injury isn’t always a tic, I never meant to imply it’s not real or serious or a very hard thing to have to deal with. People who self-soothe by injuring themselves deserve compassion and understanding, they are the most likely to be brutalized by police or hospitalized involuntarily. people who tic are subjected to the same level of scrutiny and are more likely to be labeled as dangerous, too, because ppl are uneducated about both and conflate them.

[giveemgreef]

15 People 15 Questions

thank you @babygirlboberrey for the tag!!! <3

1. are you named after anyone?

no & tragically I am named one of the most popular names from the 1990s. always several emilys no matter where I am....

2. when was the last time you cried?

oh god before last saturday I probably wouldn't have known?? but then I hit some ice and flipped my car which sure was a way to end 2023!! anyway. there was lots of crying after that 🙃

3. do you have kids?

no children, just truly too many house plants!! if anybody wants some house plant cuttings. hit me up

4. what sports do you play/have you played?

I played softball for most of middle & high school!! I was a catcher and this has led me to have lots of unearned confidence in the notion that I would kill the game as a goalie if I ever played hockey. this is based on absolutely nothing grounded in reality. anyway yeah love the residual wrist knee shoulder pain <3

5. do you use sarcasm?

not so much anymore??? I seem to have transitioned instead into "straight up lying" and expecting everyone to know that I'm not being serious. if that makes any sense.

6. what’s the first thing you notice about people?

tragically it's probably height because I'm always shorter than everyone. possibly also hair color

7. what’s your eye color?

blue!!

8. scary movies or happy endings?

horror movies for sureeeeee. we are all about the worst horror movies imaginable in this house

9. any talents?

I will eviscerate anyone & everyone at scrabble. unfortunately this is all that's coming to mind at the moment. I promise I am also good at other things

10. where were you born?

colorado!!! this is why my beef with the avs is personal. get fucked

11. what are your hobbies?

hiking!! reading. baking & cooking. hockey. exceptionally bad movies. experimental literature.

12. do you have any pets?

no pets either, just the aforementioned plants that take up so much space in my apartment

13. how tall are you?

just under 5’2"!!

14. favorite subject in school?

biology or chemistry! science my beloved...

15. dream job.

something in the horticulture research field I guess??? @ university of mn hort department...hire me....though I guess I'd also be pretty into running a joint yoga/greenhouse deal with my friend?? but who can afford real estate in this economy RIP

tagging:

@babygirlspurgeon @wildaboutmnhockey @cecishockeyblogging @masonshaws @devils-wild @nastybastian @amandaleveille @wildaboutmnhockey @letkirillfight @stanleyoffseventh @get-hockeyed-idiot @zuccarella @girldewar also whoever else wants to participate!!

[veinsandknuckles]

It's a bad life if you don't weaken, pt 9 (Tallahassee/Reader)

pt 1, pt 2, pt 3, pt 4, pt 5, pt 6, pt 7 (explicit) pt 8

Out of all the morning after-breakfasts Tallahassee had ever had, this might go down in his personal history as the most uncomfortable one. Columbus had at least had the decency to leave almost as soon as Tallahassee had come in, but the stare he’d subjected him to before he refilled his coffee and headed out the door would’ve been enough to unsettle anyone. Tallahassee couldn’t exactly decipher that look, but it did seem clear that there’d have to be a serious talk sometime in his future, one way or the other. That’d be something to look forward to... 

Little Rock could never be trusted to take a hint so he didn’t risk trying to shake her. The kid could get very clingy for someone who insisted she was too cool to care and he could tell by her way of talking that the more he tried to exclude her, the sooner she’d challenge him or demand he tell her why. At least she was busy bragging to him about all the symptoms of her hangover, half of them made up, and didn’t seem to have enough attention to spare to read the room. She was never one for leaving an uncomfortable stone unturned, and any time she paused and looked at him, he braced himself for being questioned on his body language or his relative quiet.

If only he could act natural. Kid around like usual, slip in a hint about what had happened to catch your attention and make it appear like he felt it was no big deal. 

And you... he couldn’t read you. You’d drifted over from the dishes to sit across the table from him, which was a good sign, but you barely looked at or spoke to him. You were clearly embarrassed, and that was no surprise, but what else were you feeling? He wanted to see you smile at him - and he realised then how often you had smiled at him before, sometimes cheeky, sometimes shy, but always real - but you just pecked at your food and sipped your drink and shot him the occasional quick glance. 

With a sinking feeling, he realised that, right now at least, it actually mattered. What you thought and felt when you saw him again, it mattered. Tallahassee helped himself to some crackers, coffee and canned fruit, working on autopilot without knowing what he did. 

What had happened to him? You were cute, sure, you were a lot less annoying than most people he’d met, but why the hell was he so unsettled by all of this? The two of you hadn’t ‘made love’, you’d fucked - there’d been no tender sighs or unbroken eye contact, ‘feelings’ hadn’t been mentioned by either of you, other than the ones of the flesh. 

And you’d done the right thing by leaving before he woke up. In any other situation, sneaking out like that would be a pretty unequivocal signal - if he hadn’t been so exhausted, he would’ve woken up early to sneak out himself. So why did it bother him? 

True, he’d had nothing much on his mind besides you for well over a month, but what else was there for him to think about? It’s not as if he could ignore you, you were the only woman around. Given the circumstances, it couldn’t possibly count as obsessive. And yes, technically he had dreamed about you every other night, but that was only because half the time the two of were literally drifting off in each others arms, huddling together for warmth. 

It must be the hangover fucking with his head. It hit him like that sometimes and then it usually took him until noon to stop going over everything he’d said and done when he was drunk, even if it was no more stupid and inappropriate than what he said and did when he was sober. What was it Columbus’d called it? Oh yeah. Hangxiety. Damned stupid expression.

Still, knowing the cause didn’t make those impulses go away. He felt it now: his hand itched to reach over and hold yours. Give it a squeeze, hope you’d squeeze back and give him the smallest signal that everything was still normal between you. 

Ghost a finger over your wrist and see if he could make you shiver again... Jesus, this was pathetic.

“...you look sick.”

“Huh?” he managed. Yep, Little Rock was staring at him now. Great.

“You look like you’re going to be sick. If you are, you should just go ahead and get it over with. You know, like you always say... better out than in.” 

 You were glancing his way again now, waiting for him to smooth this over.

“That’s just the sight of your face on an empty stomach, kid.”

“Uh-huh. Good one.”

“I guess none of us can recover from a party like we used to,” you said with an apologetic little smile. Shit. By now it’d be too late to backpedal and pretend like Little Rock had imagined it.

Tallahassee sighed and took a deep drink of his sour, black coffee. He’d been so sure he’d be able to play this cool, shrug this off, treat the whole thing like just a bit of harmless fun, and he was doing a miserable job at it. But even that wasn’t true, was it? The truth was that he hadn’t thought about the consequences at all, good or bad. It hadn’t mattered as long as he got to have you, to the point where he’d forgotten that there’d actually even be an after. And instead of getting you out of his system, now the old familiar pressure was building in him again faster than it ever had and all he wanted was to hurl Little Rock head first out through the kitchen window and then pull you down to the floor. 

And until he could have you again, he wanted you to smile at him, hold his gaze instead of slipping away, let him skip all of this awkward shit, skip the talking stage and let things be okay. Oh, he was fucked.

He cleared his throat. “I dunno. I’ve definitely had a lot worse.”

There it was, a flicker of a smile. He had to bite down hard on his lower lip to stop himself from grinning with relief like a complete idiot. 

Little Rock watched him with narrow eyes and Tallahassee quickly shoved an entire cracker into his mouth. This way, if she questioned him again he wouldn’t be able to respond. 

[fipindustries]

i remember my first serious real brush with queerness was when i was like 13 and i identified as a boy back then.

i grew up in an interesting time period, within an interesting generation. back then, smack dab in the mid 2000's, gay acceptance was spread enough that it was generally uncouth to be overtly homophobic but not so accepted that it wasnt still a huge deal if someone turned out to be gay. most media depicted gay people with general acceptance (albeit with a lot of cheap stereotypes) but it was still treated as this radical controversial topic to talk about openly. calling things "gay" as an insult was still socially acceptable. and people overall were still very awkward with it.

point is, i was aware of gay people from a relatively young age, and what's more, i was aware that once i hit puberty hormones were going to kick in and who knew where that coin was going to flip, i might end up attracted to boys! i had enough self awareness that i considered this a genuine possibility to worry about and prepare for beforehand.

so what i did was basically test the waters with my parents (who were divorced). first i went to my dad, and let me tell you that was a really fucking scary conversation, i rehearsed it a million times in my head and when the time came to drop the subject i was sweating all over. what's funny is that it wasnt like i had a crush on a specific guy or i had felt any particular attraction to men back then, there wasnt any reason for me to do the coming out the closet number. and yet here i was acting at 13 like i was about to full on "confess".

anyway, i dropped the "how would you react if i happened to be gay, not that i am gay, in fact i have a girl im super attracted to in school and her name is this and this is her social security number and her adress and a picture of her i have under my pillow that i kiss every night" (it wasnt quite like that but sort of).

he, feeling extremely uncomfortable, said that he would be very upset about it but that i would still be his son and he would try to be a good father to me. so that was a clear signal that i was probably not going to be super safe with him.

a few days later i did the same thing with my mom and she was like "oh yeah, i would love you and accept you no matter what in fact you uncle, my younger brother is gay, and also this other cousin" and i was like "WHAT" and i had to go to the bathroom for a few seconds to stare in the mirror because that was kind of a mindblown.

bottom line, i was living with my mom at the time, not my dad, so that helped me decide that i was probably safe if i happened to be attracted to boys, i was still a little worried about the subject but i decided i didnt have to think about it until i actually ended up crushing for a guy and until then it was all very theoretical and not worth worrying about.

like a couple of months later i happened to come across brokeback mountain while doing zapping on tv and i actually got horny watching those cowboys go at it and i ended up masturbating to it. afterwards i was like "huh, ok, i guess that settles that question".

anyway, i ended up being trans so that was all kind of moot by the end of the day, lol.

[cinnamonest]

Yanderes that have the, “I will NOT let you interact with the outside world, especially filthy males!” mentality and a darling who doesn’t care about anything the yandere does, just really wants to go to the dentist cause they need jaw surgery and its incredibly painful. - 🍪

Okay this is more generalized but I actually really like the concept of "darling has a medical issue but to help you have to take them outside and interact with others", like what do you do? They're torn between wanting to keep you locked away, but not wanting you to get worse or be in pain.

Of those, though, a lot of it depends on how bad your problem is. If it's as simple as an ache like the mouth, or a minor wound or a common illness, well... you don't need to see a doctor or dentist or whatever. There's a good chance it'll heal on its own, right? You'll be fine. The problem is when sickness progresses to a more severe state, or more serious medical complications.

Of the core group fitting that descriptor, though, it's ultimately a matter of the resources available to them (as well as, of course, individual stubbornness). Diluc and Ayato both have a significant advantage that more or less ruins any opportunity you could have to fake an illness or wound and get away that way. Being wealthy and important, they can very easily just pay for a house visit from a doctor, dentist, pharmacist, any sort of medical professional. So basically it's a non-issue, as this way of taking care of it means that there's no chance for you to slip out of their grasp and go running off, but also, he can sit there and observe the entire time, ensuring nothing happens he wouldn't want. Even then, both have spent the entirety or the vast majority of their lives in their respective areas of residence, so they most likely have a few connections of individuals they trust to not ask too many questions and not say anything to anyone else. And even if trust isn't enough, doubling the payment will essentially ensure confidentiality.

Zhongli, Tighnari, and Albedo all have a similar approach: thinking they can take care of you themselves, and that there's no need for seeking outside help without first attempting to deal with it themselves. This is, obviously, a bit of an issue, as neither are really suited to be dealing with medical problems.

Unsurprisingly, this is most likely to work out under Tighnari's care, given he has an expansive knowledge of medicinal plants and the general ailments they're known to cure. However, this strategy is more likely to work out under Zhongli's efforts than Albedo's. See, while Albedo has more scientific knowledge, his is mostly in the realm of plants, inorganic materials, and raw chemicals. These are, as you can imagine, significantly different from people. Medical alchemy is one of the core subfields of the subject, but it's actually not his best area, he's much more inclined to synthesis and creation and chemistry and... you get the idea. Sometimes this ends up creating more problems than it solves. Zhongli on the other hand, despite not having any real medical background, actually knows a great deal about how to fix various ailments, cultural knowledge passed down over time. Think of it like how grandmas usually have little tricks of common items that work wonders, some even better than actual medicine. Aches and pains are cured with this, nausea with this, drowsiness with this... expect to drink a lot of various teas, too.

For something that isn't within their realm of knowledge, though, like anything needing to be removed or surgical procedure... they'd put it off as long as possible. But they're all three very realistic people, so eventually, they'd reach a point where they know they have to do something to spare you the pain or potential infection or rot. You'll be given a long, unsettling speech about the consequences of doing something you shouldn't, and you'll be watched like a hawk the entire time, but they will eventually let you go.

Xiao and Kaeya are in a similarly bad spot. Neither has any experience with medicine as a practice in any capacity, both are very strict on keeping you tucked away from the outside world, and perhaps both a bit inconsiderate in terms of prioritizing their imperatives over your discomfort. Xiao in particular also vastly overestimates the human body's capabilities, which is potentially dangerous for you -- what do you mean, you need to see a doctor for a broken bone? Doesn't it heal on its own in a couple of days? And a 106°/40° fever isn't really that bad, is it? You're probably making that up… at least at the opposite end, though, both will give you alcohol to help with the discomfort. Kaeya knows from experience, Xiao has heard that it helps human pains, both will procure it for you... but that can't solve the issue forever, of course.

In the end, similarly to the ones above, they'll take you to someone if it becomes bad enough, but it has to be like life-threatening bad, whereas the ones above would do it if you were just in a lot of pain. Not with these two -- pain is just something you'll have to endure… but hey, Kaeya will give you alcohol to numb it, so that's something.

Razor is by far the worst to be stuck with, though. In his mind, human medicine is unnecessary and useless. He's survived everything without it, so that means anyone can. You just need water and to sleep a lot. And if the condition of your issue gets worse? Drink more water. Infection of some kind? Clean it with water. Fever and chills? He'll carry you over to the river and set you down in it for a bit.

Your condition has to get really bad before he's willing to take you to a human medical professional of any kind. Like, verge-of-death bad. So unfortunately, if you have a minor issue like an ache, you're gonna be stuck with it for the foreseeable future.

[bloodxhound]

COMMON MISCONCEPTION(S).  That Ray hates his father. He would like people to believe so, as he would like to believe it himself, but the truth is—he doesn’t. When he was a child, he outright idealized him. To Ray, he appeared larger than life, untouchable, almost god-like. The man was surrounded by people who respected him and coveted his recognition. Ray was no different, until that feeling slowly gave way to fear, resentment, anger, and disappointment over the years. What remains after his father’s execution is a lot of confusion, regret and the question whether there couldn’t have been a better end to all of this. It’ll take him quite a while to work through his emotions.

AN IMPORTANT HEADCANON.  Sometimes when he’s being arrogant or obnoxious it’s intended as a defense mechanism, rather than a manifestation of his high confidence or enjoyment of exasperating others. To some extent, that behavior is how he weasels out of situations that make him feel awkward or vulnerable. He struggles to take someone’s gratitude or a genuine compliment. Someone complimenting him on something superficial like his appearance? Whatever, no big deal. But someone giving him a heartfelt thank-you? No, thanks. He’ll let you know how great he is himself so you can roll your eyes and he can move on from the situation.

A USELESS HEADCANON.  You know that embarrassing moment when you accidentally push against a door you’re supposed pull? Couldn’t be Ray. He’ll just keep on pushing until he unhinges the entire door and then walks through. There, problem solved.

POTENTIAL TRIGGERS.  In general, you can expect anything that you’d find in the A.ce A.ttorney games. Murder, death, violence, etc. Other sensitive subject matters that may crop up are mentions of emotional and physical child abuse, mental illness ( depression, dissociative amnesia ), and alcoholism. Personally, I’m fine with mostly any subject matter in threads / backstories, as long as it’s handled respectfully. Since A.ce A.ttorney isn’t a terribly dark franchise I’m more than happy to keep subject matters limited to what is discussed in the games though.

SOMETHING YOU ENJOY ABOUT (WRITING) THEM.  Getting to write dog metaphors / similes to my heart’s content? Bullying my friends’ muses? Getting yelled at in d/iscord because he did something stupid? < 3 More seriously though, there’s so much I enjoy about writing Ray that I struggle to pinpoint just one thing. He’s the culmination of all the crime / thriller / detective media I love and all the character tropes I enjoy, and I like that I get to explore those in my own way!

SOMETHING YOU WANT OTHERS TO KNOW BEFORE WRITING WITH THEM.  He may be a grump generally speaking, but it’s not necessarily his default attitude towards everyone. Defense attorneys, prosecutors and authority figures are received with antagonism until they’ve proven their integrity to him. He cannot stand journalists, politicians, and criminals ( who committed serious offenses ) — and he will let them know that. But everyone else? Entirely depends on them. Some types of people are met favorably from the get-go, too. Forensics, other detectives, beautiful women, kind people who remind him of his mother, etc. He often cares more about people than he lets on. Even if he bullies them. Sometimes especially if he bullies them.

tagged by: @clemencetaught (●'◡'●) / tagging: @kagoshou, @virtusdemonte, @lovlorne, @silenthcwl, @tenacquity, @kamipyre, @edgelord-dl6 ( miles! though i would love to know your takes on james as well :flushed: ) & you, reading this ! ♡