#go into spaces for other minorities and derail

[artemx746]

Do people not realise that a person doesn't suddenly gain full maturity and knowledge of everything when they turn 18?

[communistkenobi]

if we want to talk about where trans men tend to be overrepresented in transphobic discourse, it’s in relation to scaremongering media profiles of detransitioners, framing trans men as misunderstood women with internalised misogyny who have mutilated our bodies and are now left ‘ruined’ because of HRT and surgery. This is used to argue for policies that restrict access to trans healthcare, especially for minors (notice how often we are talked about as “young girls”!) putting a ‘sympathetic’ face to transgender hysteria by talking about the “victims” of transgenderism. But this is still an incomplete picture without accounting for transmisogyny, as trans women are the “perpetrators” of this victimisation, convincing “confused young women” to cut off their breasts and take testosterone. It centres around the ‘corruption’ of femininity, as trans men forsake our ‘natural’ femaleness and trans women as ‘appropriating’ it.

This is why Matt Walsh, JKR, and other prominent transphobic figures asks the question “what is a woman?” and not “what is a man?”, it’s why Posie Parker advocates for armed cis men to go into women’s bathrooms to “protect women from men invading women’s spaces,” its why terfs are so fixated on trans women as ur-misogynists, it’s why right wing politicians like Pierre Poilievre & the Conservative Party of Canada focus their ire on blocking trans women from public spaces.

Saying this is not a denial of trans men as victims of transphobia (hello! I am a frequent one!) and its endlessly frustrating that these conversations get derailed into “well what about MY experience where XYZ horrible thing happened to me” as if the conversation about transphobia should only ever remain in the realm of interpersonal violence and victimisation. It’s very handy to stay in that arena because the only rebuttal to that tactic is to deny this random person’s experiences or “ignore their lived reality.” But I’m not talking about experience! Transphobia is a structural force in the world which means we don’t actually need to rely on individual accounts of violence to understand it. taking stock of that structure is only a “threat” to “trans masc voices” if you think structural discussions of oppression are de facto “misandrist”

[ugly-anarchist]

People are now calling aros homophobic for saying "love loses" and disliking the phrase "love is love"

I don't dislike the phrase "love is love" because I'm aro and I hate the concept of love and I want to trample on queer joy and I don't understand the meaning behind love is love.

I dislike the phrase "love is love" because I don't believe that minorities should have to say "we're just like you!" In order to be accepted. I dislike it because it doesn't apply to all queer people, (including bisexuals, gays, lesbians, etc) but people treat it like it does. I dislike it because it's a product of a sex-negative society that deems queer people to be disgusting sex pests and instead of going "that's fucked up because there's nothing wrong with sex" people go "that's fucked up because we're not like those dirty disgusting predators who want sex without romance (coughalloaroscough)". I dislike it because arophobia is rampant in the queer community and people will throw us under the bus for points and have. (Stonewall UK posted a tweet acknowledging aros during aro week and other queer people called us predators and implied we were cishet invaders) I dislike it because the word love is shoved onto aros and whenever we say "please don't" people just redefine it to force it on us. I dislike it because there are better alternatives. I dislike it because rainbow capitalism has taken it over. I dislike it because it just feels a bit overused and cliche at this point. I dislike it for plenty of reasons, from legitimate to petty. Because I'm a person, not an evil aro who wants to destroy the queer community.

Aros, for a very long time, have had the word love used against us as a tool for our oppression. (Yes, love can be used to oppress people) And a lot of aros are sick of not being represented in queer spaces. The community puts so much emphasis on romantic love in an effort to not be the stereotypical sex obsessed queer but that leaves out aros. And people will be like "it's to uplift gays, bis, and lesbians" but there are aromantic gays, bis, and lesbians! I'm an aromantic bisexual person! I am directly harmed by the whole "we're not dirty sex pests, we can love (romantically) just like you!"

I, and many other aros, dislike the phrase love is love because it leaves us behind in the dirt. We often feel like the dirty side of queerness that no one wants to acknowledge. Saying "queer love is real love" isn't a bad thing, but having that be the one and only thing queer people ever talk about leaves out a portion of the community and we're allowed to talk about it.

"Love is love" doesn't represent me as a bisexual aromantic person. Not everything has to represent or include me but it would be nice if just one thing did. My version of queer joy is not represented by love is love and I just want a fucking alternative that does include it!

[Don't tag as ace/aroace or derail]

[sigh-tofm]

if you have anxiety… (some 18+)

… price

- takes charge. understands how hard it is to be a functional human some days. removes all the unnecessary overthinking you do. breakfast? omelette. workout? yes, a run. dinner? steak, and he will do the hard part. you chop the veggies. movie? this cheesy romcom. sex? of course, you just lie back and let yourself get overwhelmed by his tongue. can’t do much overthinking when you barely remember your own name, can you? while you rest against the headboard in the afterglow and catch your breath, he fishes a magnesium pill from a bottle and makes you swallow it, holding a glass of water to your lips. ‘let’s calm that head down, baby.’

… kyle

- talks you down. he’s smooth and he knows it. when you run yourself in circles trying to find solutions to problems that only exist in your head, he has a way of breaking your head open and making you see the light with only a few soft sentences. he lets you ramble on and on about all the things that plague you until he eventually says something that catches you completely off guard and puts everything into a new perspective. suddenly you understand how it’s all connected and what previously felt like world-ending problems now seem like minor inconveniences, if that. he knows that making you putting your thoughts into words and talking about them with him is the best way to dismantle the thought patterns in your head. a simple afternoon walk with him is like a hundred hours in a therapist’s office. and of course you get a quickie on the sofa after.

… johnny

- helps you fight off the restlessness and other nervous symptoms. always catches the signs, your trembling hands and wavering glances, and tries to derail your trains of thought that he knows might cause a panic attack. his first method is always making you laugh, and his stupid jokes almost always do the trick. if that doesn’t work, he knows jumping jacks are a sure way to fire off the stress hormones and adrenaline building up inside you. and if you come home all frazzled, nerves fried after a day of stressful work tasks, impossible clients and rude coworkers, he makes sure to tire you out physically and mentally by way of eight different sex positions over the course of three and a half hours. you sleep long and well that night.

… simon

- is at your service. literally becomes like your service dog. when you’re out and about, you just need to hold on to his arm or put your hand in his pocket. he’ll take you where you need to go, you don’t need to worry about it. if the hustle and bustle of the world around gets to be too loud, he’ll put a heavy arm around your shoulders, literally grounding you. you can hold his large, scarred hand if you need something to focus on, running your fingers over the ridges and bumps on his skin. like any good service dog he creates space for you, simply by existing. no one bothers you when he’s around. if you fidget with the zipper on your jacket or pull on a strand of your hair, he knows before you even notice what you’re doing. he’ll gently redirect you, guiding your hand away from whatever it’s doing. if you’re at home, he’ll sometimes place it blatantly on his crotch instead, to really give you something to fidget with.

[hwanghyunjinenthusiast]

Baby fever

AN: I'm sure your shock has been imagined that I wrote this. I haven't even watched the video fully yet because I should be have been trying to work on my final assignments for the semester but, I've seen enough to prompt me to write this very impulsively. Apologies to all of the fics I was actively working on (glances at my 2Min drabble with apologetic eyes).

Synopsis: Seeing pictures and videos of your boyfriend with a baby inspires a stronger reaction from you than either of you could have anticipated.

Heads up: Hwang Hyunjin x Fem! Reader, established relationship, the plot is barely there if I'm being honest, dirty talk, usage of pet names, nipple play (f. receiving), oral sex (f. receiving), fingering (f. receiving), unprotected piv sex for the first time, both Reader and Hyunjin cry at points, one mention of Reader worrying she'll draw blood from Hyunjin but no actual blood and it isn't referenced beyond that, very apparent breeding kink and talks about breeding, Hyunjin says mommy once in reference to making Reader a mum, creampie and dacryphilia kink if you squint.

Word count: 3765

I will block you if you are a minor and have no easily visible indication of your age on your blog if you interact with me in any way.

You don't expect much when your phone buzzes with a notification from Felix. He always sends you messages throughout the day, even when he has a pretty packed schedule. Asking you how your day is, telling you about his and sending you short videos and funny pictures of the rest of the members that he manages to catch.

So when you open his message, you expect maybe a selfie with him and Chris or a video of Minho feigning annoyance at being recorded.

What you don't expect is to see Hyunjin. Well, that's not entirely true. Felix sends you pictures and videos of Hyunjin all of the time. What you don't expect is to see your boyfriend awkwardly and carefully holding an incredibly adorable, chubby baby.

He did mention a while ago now that he, Felix, and Jeongin were going to be on some variety show with children, but it had honestly slipped your mind. University has been eating you alive for the past month or so, so any space in your brain for anything that isn't response papers and projects has been minimal.

Now, as you as you sit at your desk with the Word document left untouched, all you can do is stare at the video of Hyunjin trying his best to soothe the baby. His hold on him is very clumsy and it makes you a little anxious but, it's all dwarfed by how softly your boyfriend looks at him and how his massive hands cradle the baby's tiny body to his. The smile on his face is positively radiant, and the little cooing sounds he makes do eventually draw a smile and giggle from the baby comfortably in his arms.

You don't think you've felt your heart constrict more in your chest ever in your entire life. Not even when he told you he loved you for the first time or when the two of you went on your first date or the first time you had sex. Sitting here, seeing him fumble his way through interacting with this baby and the unadulterated softness in his face, completely derails any other train of thought than wanting to have a baby of your own with him.

Which is absolute insanity.

Not only are the two of you nowhere near ready to be parents, your relationship is also not even a year old yet. You've spoken about children, and while you are on the same page, now is nowhere near the time.

Still, the more carnal part of your brain can't find it to care as you continue to scroll through the barage of pictures and videos Felix sent to you. An audible 'aw' leaving your lips when the baby's tiny hand wraps around your boyfriend's finger.

Yeah, there's no way you're getting any work done today.

You practically lunge at Hyunjin when he opens your front door. You swallow his noise of surprise greedily, wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing him to the door he just barely manages to close. Despite being caught thoroughly off-guard, he kisses you back. His hands coming to rest on your hips.

"Not that I'm complaining," he breathes out once he separates himself from your lips, "but, what brought this on?"

"Lix sent me pictures and videos of you with a baby," you mutter against his neck as you kiss along the sensitive skin there. Your blood turning into molten heat in your veins as he squirms and whimpers against you. You're sure you're wet enough already to take him. You've been wet for what feels like hours now.

"Okay?" He says, blinking at you in confusion through the lust induced haze he was momentarily in.

"You looked really cute and happy."

He still doesn't seem to quite understand what about that would cause you to react like this.

"Seeing you with a baby was really attractive," you finally spell out for him.

"Attractive?!" He squeaks out, and you'd usually find that endearing and cause to smush his cheeks between your hands, but you're too highstrung right now.

"Yes," you breathe, resuming your kisses along on his neck, on part of his jaw until you reach his ear, "it was really, really attractive. I couldn't even focus on my work because all I could think about was you cumming inside of me and, putting a baby in me."

You're sure Hyunjin would have crumpled to your floor if he wasn't leaning against your door. He was blushing so hard you could feel the heat radiating off of him. You don't think you've ever seen him get this red, especially so quickly, ever.

"Wh-what?" Is all he can respond with and, in all fairness, you did drop a nuclear bit of information on the poor man, so this reaction isn't exactly unexpected.

You take one of his hands and slip it into the waistband of your shorts and panties, moaning quietly when his fingers come into contact with your soaked slit. Hyunjin isn't unaffected either if the glaze in his eyes and bob of his adam's apple are anything to go by.

"I've been so wet for you all day, Jinnie," you whine, your eyes fluttering slightly and your walls clenching when his fingers run along your folds all on their own.

"Fuck," he grits, catching you by surprise this time around and slamming his mouth into yours. This kiss is more carnal than the last one. It's all teeth and tongue and spit and, all you can do is fist his shirt to steady yourself while his nimble fingers stroke you. You're barely aware that he's pushing you backwards until you find yourself hitting your couch. His mouth remains firmly on yours as you two tumble onto it.

A disappointed whine leaves you when his hand leaves your panties and shorts. Your walls throb borderline painfully, and you feel acutely empty. "I'm sorry. I promise I'll make it up to you," he has the audacity to laugh, albeit hoarsely.

"Jinnie, I'm ready. Please, I want you inside of me. I'm beyond ready," you whimper, clutching onto his biceps. Giving him your best puppy dog eyes and pout while he clenches his jaw at your words.

"You're trying to kill me," he groans, resting his forehead against your shoulder. From the pressure you feel on your thigh right now, you're sure your suggestion sounds tempting right now.

He kisses you more slowly this time. Savouring every brush and press of your lips against his own and, the two of you moan into each other as your tongues caress one another. You thought you'd won until you feel his hands impatiently tug your shirt up, exposing your breasts to the cool air of your apartment. His mouth descending down your neck, lavishing your throat with kisses and licks while you arch into him. Your hands tugging on his dark locks while he kisses down your body.

"Hyun-Hyunjin," you whimper, your hips jolting up into him when his breaths ghost over one of your hardened nipples.

"Are you sure you still want me to just fuck you?" Is all he says before you find your nipple enveloped by his mouth and your other breast in one of his hands.

You're sure you've soaked through your panties and are close to ruining your shorts from the way your wetness trickles out of you with every lick and suck of your boyfriend's sinful mouth. The vibrations from the groans he presses into you only make it all so much worse, along with the precise way his fingers tug and lightly pinch your other nipple.

Hyunjin would happily spend hours with his mouth and hands all over your breasts if history is any indication. However, as eyeroll and toe-curl inducing as this all feels, you're determined to get your way.

Your hands cup his face and pull him up to you. The frown on his thoroughly kissed lips almost makes you laugh, but you kiss him before the giggles get the better of you, and he complains about you ruining his time with your tits.

"Want you," you mutter against his lips, palming his erection through his jeans. The evidence of his want for you clear as day and heavy in your palm. You're tempted to just flip him over and sink down on him yourself.

"An-And I'm the one always being called impatient," he retorts with an affectionate roll of his eyes and kiss to the corner of your mouth.

"It's not my fault you looked so attractive," you respond with a shrug, biting back the complaint on the tip of the tongue when he peels away from you to tug off his shirt. God, you really must be the luckiest woman alive.

"I didn't think you'd be so into it," he says distractedly, impatiently tugging down his jeans and leaving him in nothing but his black boxers that cling in a horribly tempting way to his slender hips and, outline his hard cock.

You're not sure whether your mouth or pussy waters more.

Hyunjin flushes under your intense gaze, as if you haven't seen him naked more times than both of you could count. It still boggles your mind sometimes how your boyfriend can turn from confident, sexy and suave to an awkward, flustered mess in an instant. Well, that duality is among the multitude of reasons you're so irrevocably in love with him.

"You're staring," he mumbles, avoiding your gaze.

"It's not my fault you're so hot," you retort, delighting in the deepening blush on his cheeks. He's just too easy for his own good.

He just huffs in parts exasperation and embarrassment, choosing instead to focus on getting you naked. The playful atmosphere quickly dissipates as he hooks his thumbs into your shorts and panties, and you lift your hips to help him tug them off.

Once he's tossed them somewhere to join the heap of clothes littering your floor, Hyunjin settles himself between your thighs once more but, on his stomach this time. You really, really wish he'd just fuck you and before you're able to verbalise that thought, your boyfriend takes a slow, deliberate lick at you.

A strangled gasp flies from your lips and your hips jolt but, his large hands hold you firm. "Just let me do this for you, okay?" He asks, his stupid, pretty brown eyes boring into yours through his dark hair. His mouth hovers above you, as if waiting for some sort of response from you.

"Fuck, fine Jinnie, okay. Please, just do some-" your words are cut off by a choked sob when Hyunjin takes your words as a green light. His lips attached themselves to your poor clit, licking and sucking in ways that tighten the knots in your gut and causes your toes to curl. Your fingers weaving themselves into his hair and tugging, which prompts a whimper from your boyfriend. The vibrations making your eyes roll into the back of your skull.

A pitchy moans of his name fill the air of your apartment when his slender fingers toy with your entrance. Barely breaching your hole and you want to scream.

"Hyunjin," you whimper out, impatiently tugging on his hair.

"I'm sorry," he mutters against you with a smile and, pushes two of his fingers into you gradually.

They don't fill you nearly as much as you need but, they're better than nothing. That thought is particularly bolstered when he curls them inside of you, only needing a few moments before he finds the spot inside of you that makes your thighs quiver and your mind to go blank. Combined with his unrelenting ministrations on your poor, sensitive clit and how needy you've been for him all day, it all becomes too much so quickly.

"Hyun-Hyunjin, Jinnie. I- I'm-" You're not even sure what you're trying to articulate but, the jumbled mess of words seem to only motivate your boyfriend further. He curls his fingers harder and laps at your clit with renewed enthusiasm.

That's all it takes for everything to fracture.

You're sure the grip you have on Hyunjin's hair hurts but, you can't help it. Everything seizes and your walls spasm viciously, clamping down so harshly on Hyunjin's fingers he can barely keep curling them inside of you. Still, he tries. He's not as intense as he was moments ago but, still fingers you through your orgasm while his tongue gently laps up everything you give him.

You sag against your couch once your body relaxes. You're half certain you'd float up into the air if Hyunjin's grip on you wasn't still so strong. Speaking of your boyfriend, he does eventually unlatches himself from your hypersensitive clit. His hair is completely dishevelled, and you could already see a thin sheen of sweat on his flushed skin. His tongue pokes out to chase every bit of you he can on his bruised lips, his eyes dark.

You're sure he feels the way you clench around his fingers despite quite literally just cumming. He leans down to hungrily kiss you, tasting yourself on his tongue that he pushes into your eager mouth. As if your mind isn't muddled enough. You moan into him when he very slowly pulls his fingers out of you. Now you feel so empty that it physically hurts.

"Jinnie," you plead, your fingers reaching down to toy with the waistband of his boxers. The muscles of his abdomen jumping with every brush of your fingers against them. One of his hands comes down to cup your jaw, pressing a delicate kiss to your lips.

"Fine, fine," he says after pulling away from you and tugging his boxers down. His cock bobs in the air between the two of you as he drops his boxers on your floor. Your heart hammers against your ribcage, and even more of your wetness leaks out of you, smearing your inner thighs.

Hyunjin gets up, and that kicks you out of the stupor you were in. Your hand shoots to grab his wrist, stopping him dead in his tracks.

"Where are you you going?"

"To uh...get condoms?" He asks, confusion evident in both his voice and handsome face.

"Why?"

"Wh-Why?"

"Yeah, why? I'm okay with not using them if you are. I wasn't kidding when I said I really want you to cum inside of me."

Hyunjin closes his eyes then. Gritting his teeth before responding, "What about...y'know? Not that I don't want to have children with you eventually but-"

"Jinnie, I'm on the pill. I have been since I was a teenager."

That stops Hyunjin. His big, brown eyes blinking at you as if he can't quite believe that this is real. That this is happening.

You soften then, slipping your hand downwards to intertwine your fingers with his longer ones, "Hey, we don't have to if you don't want to. We can use condoms if that's what you're comfortable with."

That seems to only make your boyfriend flail harder, "No, no. It's not that I don't want to. Honestly, I've thought about it a lot," that makes you raise an eyebrow, "I've just never- I've just never done it without a condom before."

"Neither have I," you respond easily.

"Really?"

The look you give him is enough for Hyunjin to recognise what a dumb question that was, "Right, okay, sorry."

That seems to ease his anxieties significantly, he doesn't look nearly as tense as he did when you suggested the idea. You tug him down into another deep kiss, wrapping your arms around him as he resumes his place between your thighs. Gasps leaving both of you when his cock nudges at your very wet folds, the barely there pressure and searing heat causing your nails to dig into his shoulders.

"You're 100% sure about this right?" He asks once more, his eyes swirling with nervousness and desire.

While you appreciate how sweet he's being, you're seconds from pulling out your hair if he doesn't just fuck you right now. However, an idea comes to your mind to finally entice your boyfriend into fully letting go.

One of your hands reaches down until you reach the apex of your thighs, spreading your pussy for him to see just how sure you are.

"Yes, Jinnie. Fuck me, please."

Something in Hyunjin snaps then. His mouth swallowing your whimpers as he finally sinks into you. You can feel him practically vibrating with the effort to keep himself composed.

He's so hot inside of you. You're not sure sex has ever felt so intense. You've had him inside of you hundreds of times but, this...this is completely different. You swear you can feel everything. Every twitch and every throb and every vein as your walls melt around him. Before you know it, you're blinking away tears from how overwhelming it all is and pull him closer to you, wrapping your legs around him.

"Fuck, wait. Shit, don't do that. Don't move," he chokes out into the hollow of your throat, his own hold on your hips growing harsh and his cock twitching repeatedly inside of you.

"Jinnie, move," you whine into his ear, you can barely recognise yourself. You sound so foreign to your own ears but, from the way Hyunjin's hips slightly jolt and he mutters a string of curses against your skin, he might be into this new state of fucked out you've managed to achieve.

You thought it couldn't be even intense, but then Hyunjin moves, and you're pretty sure your visions goes black at the edges for a few seconds. There's no way to tell who moans louder but, you both press your noises into each other's skin all the same. Your nails drag down his back so hard that you're briefly worried that you might have drawn blood.

"Baby," Hyunjin whimpers out, thrusting into you slowly and shallowly, barely satisfying either of you, "Baby, I need you to relax. I-I won't last if you don't."

His words only instinctively make you tighten around him, made all the worse since he's so deeply nestled of you. Your walls massaging him and generously coating him in your slick.

"I want it, Jinnie. I don't care, please," you don't know what's possessed you but, the realisation that he very really could fill you with his cum hits you like a train. You pull him even closer to you, "Fuck me all you want. Cum inside of me all you want. Breed me all you want, Jinnie."

Something broken and feral slips from his lips, his teeth ghost over your throat as he fucks into you without abandon. The sounds of your skin colliding and your respective sounds of pleasure echoing all throughout your living room, and probably throughout your entire apartment.

"Yeah? Want me to fuck my baby into you?" He grits out possesively, "Want me to make you swollen with my ba-baby and make you a mommy?"

"Please, yes, Jinnie," you moan, holding onto him for dear life as he seems determined to make his words a reality. Both of you completely lost in each other and delirious.

"Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck," he moans against your shoulder in-between kisses that are more spit and tongue than anything else. "Fuck. Gonna cum. Gonna fill you up with my cum until it's leaking out of you for days. Gonna breed you so good," he slurs, his heavy pants joining the symphony of sounds currently playing through your living room. You're certain you'll have bruises on your hips in the morning but, you couldn't care less. You want it. You want it more than anything.

It's always easy to tell when Hyunjin is about to cum. Your boyfriend isn't exactly great at hiding his emotions, and from the increase in the frequency of curses and moans and the way he holds onto you, you know he's teetering on the edge. You are, too, if you're being honest, but you're more invested in him falling apart. A choked sob of your name is the only warning you receive before you feel his cock twitch inside of you incessantly and warmth flooding your awaiting pussy.

You're surprised to feel some wetness on your shoulder and, concern trumps any other emotion when you register that. Your hands reach to cup his face, a few stray tears streaking his flushed cheeks.

"Hey, Jinnie baby, is everything okay?"

It takes him a few moments to find the words to respond to you, and you rub your thumb soothing on his cheek while you wait for him patiently.

"I-I-I don't think I've e-ever cum so hard. It-It was really i-intense," he hiccups out, nuzzling into your grasp.

Oh.

Well, that puts the tears on his face into a very different light and, perhaps you've discovered another new thing about yourself today.

"I'm sorry. I got a little...out of control at the end there," he mutters, his face speeding from pink to red as he avoids your gaze studiously.

"Jinnie, you have nothing to apologise for," you tug him towards you and plant featherlight kisses on his cheek, "It was really fucking hot, if I'm being honest."

That only makes your boyfriend blush harder and seek refuge in your shoulder after groaning in embarrassment. The movement quickly reminds you that he's still very much inside of you right now and that his cum is slowly starting to trickle out of you but, you feel too boneless to even entertain the idea of getting up right now.

"I'm still surprised seeing me with a baby resulted in all of this," he says after his embarrassment subsides, his fingers tracing nonsensical patterns on your thigh.

"Wouldn't see me with a baby make you feel the same way?"

He seems to ponder on that for a little bit before replying, "Fair point. You know, when we do eventually have one of our own, I hope they have your eyes."

This stupid man and the way he makes your heart race.

"Well, I hope they have your eyes and your pouty lips and your dimples," you retort, feeling very, very shy all of a sudden as though this isn't happening because of you.

"We'll just have to have more than one then. You know, just to make sure they get all of the traits we want them to get," he has the nerve to grin at you.

"Hyunjin!" You cry, scandalised, warmth flooding your face. However, you can't deny that a bunch of children with his smile and kind eyes doesn't sound like the such a bad idea.

Reblogs are greatly appreciated.

[demonicbaby666]

Tears on the Window Pane

One shot | Supergirl Masterlist | Masterlists

Fandom: Supergirl

Pairing: Lena Luthor x fem!Reader

Genre: Smut

Words: 2.6k+

Warnings: 18+, minors DNI, toxic ex, jealousy, alcohol, rough sex, fingering, humiliation (if you look hard enough), semi-public sex, degradation, hair pulling, asphyxiation, daddy kink, top!Lena, bottom!reader

Summary: months after a breakup, you bump into your ex. Though the relationship was filled with turmoil, and you’d long since believed you’d learnt some valuable lessons from it, it seems you’re not as strong to resist as you think.

A/n: this was originally going to be an enemies-to-lovers story but then a devilish creature crawled out from a dark corner of my room, muttered mean!Lena really seductively in my ear, and I was helpless to fight what came over me then...

It was foggy that Friday night. National city's streets pulsed with life as people filtered out of bars and clubs, only to move on to the next, then the next. When their wobbly steps turned solely to stumbling, they would wave their white flags and surrender to the night or, better yet, early morning. That, too, is what your plan had been - to wander aimlessly with a group of friends until your head spun and your feet hurt, till the sun rose from beneath skyscrapers and the morning breeze would snip away at the lingering effects of hard liquor and cheap beer. Those plans, however, had been wholly derailed when you made your way into a club, and tendrils of cold shivers made their way up your spine, forcing your gaze to flicker over the swarming sea of sweaty bodies, landing on one person. 

If it were a year ago, a mousy smile could be caught stretched across your lips. A sudden timidness to being perceived by this goddess whom you'd once called your girlfriend may have even sent butterflies flittering low in your stomach. But a year ago, you were naive, blinded by flashing lights that coloured red, green and toxic, sweet. 

You stood there, hand in hand, with a stray girl your group had adopted for the night, past feelings dwindling low in your stomach as your mind walked the line between now and then. Fear had the muscles in your stomach tensing, pupils dilating, and legs refusing to heed the commands of the arm tugging you towards the bar. The other emotion you harboured was similar in nature. However, it differed in that although its predecessor forced your legs to remain rooted, this successor wedged them closed to alleviate the quickening pulse, growing thick and lively. 

Trying to ignore that even from a distance Lena's eyes had locked onto your every move with chilling precision, you elbowed your way to liquid relief. It had been your intention to leave after slinging back a few shots of watered-down vodka, but then came the shift - the subtle twist in your gut that made you courageous enough to entertain the attention you were receiving rather than cower away from it. 

With a turn of your head and a feeling of which direction to turn in, you granted yourself a few moments to really take the CEO in. She appeared to have come straight from a business meeting, dressed in a navy suit, surrounded by white-collared men and women all fighting to gain recognition. And yet, she gave them nothing. She remained silent. Eyes cemented on the light sway of your hips and the shrinking space between you and the unknown body lurking beside you. 

With each boom from the speakers and the accompanying shake of the floor, bodies morphed together until there was only Lena and the blur of scattered masses. The music died in your ears, reduced to a faint hum, and the constant pounding of the bass became secondary to the pounding of your heart. The beginning of a slow-motion step forward was attempted, the heel of your boot hitting the sticky floor before, "You want to dance?" 

The spell was broken. Music assaulted your eardrums. The reek of alcohol polluted your nose, and calloused fingers brushed your elbow before a tall figure obstructed your view, sporting an aggravatingly hopeful smile. 

"What?" you snapped, not realising how harsh your tone was until the man’s unabashed beam faltered. You tried again, this time softer. "It's loud in here. What did you say?"

There was a charming awkwardness to him. The way he rubbed a palm over the back of his neck and let out a nervous laugh made you feel bad for the guy.

"Come have a dance with me?" he asked, voice gruff but not entirely unpleasant. 

The human blockade made it hard to gauge if Lena was still watching, and in the absence of her scrutinising glare, you allowed yourself to be led to the crowded dancefloor. 

As the music flowed and your body moved, you let your mind wander. You thought back to the breakup and how the following months were spent re-wiring your brain, re-learning how to make decisions independently and cultivating a life centred around yourself. You’d told yourself it had been worth it. The freedom was blissful, and opportunities popped up where they had never seemed to before. But with the merriment came the bittersweet - evenings spent alone, men thinking they had free rein to eye fuck you and, occasionally, get handsy. A day didn't go by where you wouldn't crave the guidance and praise Lena bestowed. But more than anything, you missed the feeling of being wholly owned. It was that deep-rooted longing that had you looking back to Lena. 

Despite not being in a relationship with the woman, the look she was shooting at the poor man behind you led you to believe her claim over you was still unconquered, and that single fact should have sent you running. But once again, strobing lights really did have a way of distorting things. 

Her gaze remained fixed, and though it was unnerving, it was thrilling. Being with Lena was always like this. She was intense and stubborn and so damn territorial it spoke directly to the servile side of you in a way that nothing and no one else ever could. It made you desperate to bend to her will, no matter the costs. The only problem then was you weren’t hers to bend, and it became clear in that second that that needed to change. 

You kept up the act, dancing as provocatively as stilettos would allow and laughing along to rehearsed pickup lines. The last straw for the fuming brunette came when a pair of hands snaked around your waist, pulling you back into a muscled torso, and a pathetic little jab touched your ass. Lena was up on her feet and charging towards you in no time.

"Hands off,” the older woman growled, digging her blunt nails into your forearm and yanking you forward. 

"Take it easy.” The man tried to make a grab for you, but Lena beat him to it, stepping forward to shield you from his grasp. Instantly, he backed away, throwing his hands up. “I didn't know she was spoken for." 

"Shut the fuck up." Lena was seething, her jaw clenched and her eyes vicious. “If you even think of you touching her again, I'll chop your dick off and feed it to you."

She didn't wait for a reply to come or give notice to the small crowd that had formed around the three of you. Instead, Lena hauled you into the bathroom in record time, practically threw you into an open stall door and pressed your front firmly against the wall. 

"A few months, and you're already whoring yourself out,” came the surly voice from behind you. "Did you learn nothing?" 

"I," you tried to answer, but a hand fell over your mouth, silencing you. 

"You're disgusting,” she sneered. "What makes you think I care what you have to say?" 

The palm over your lips was held tight. There was no space between slim fingers and no room to breathe from anywhere other than your nose. A woeful whimper arose from the back of your throat, sounding so pathetic heat rushed to your face and painted your cheeks pink. 

The fact you knew, from experience, there was no way to get out of Lena's hold evaded you. From the surface level, it could be said you were under the assumption your sudden hike in mental strength extended to your physical. However, deep down, you knew the fight was what you and Lena needed. All that pent-up anger, resentment, and hunger required liberation, and together, that was something you always did well. 

"You're so desperate, aren't you?" Lena snarled, lodging her foot between your heels and wedging them apart until you were spread open for her. "I bet if I reached into your panties, I'd find you soaked." 

As predicted, the contentious grunt that heaved a puff of cool air out your nose and elbow to the gut sparked something primal in Lena. It forced her hand to the back of your neck, where she pushed your cheek harder into the wall and laid a stinging slap over your clothed cunt. The yelp that followed met a quick demise, cut off by bracketed fingers restricting your airways and survival instincts chose then to seek the help of your hands. They flailed about, aimlessly reaching out for Lena, begging her to stop or to give you more; you didn't know. All you knew was your mind's conflict. 

The top half of your body fought hard, shoulders driving back and forth, whilst the bottom speedily submitted, rocking against the minimal pressure Lena's palm offered and greedily pushing down to gain more stimulation. It was all in vain, of course. 

"Pathetic," she tutted, delivering another swift slap to your aching sex. "Little slut wants her pussy fucked?" 

"Lena, please,” you quietly sobbed. 

Swift as the wind, the brunette had your back to the wall, one hand gripping your jaw, the other holding your wrists above your head. 

"Please, what?" she goaded, pushing your head up to work the blank space of your neck with not-so-gentle bites, topping them off with soothing licks. 

"I d-don't know," you whined. 

It wasn't far from the truth. Your mind was hazy from alcohol. You were letting your body lead you into something you knew you’d later regret. But the scariest thing was that it didn't frighten you at all how willing you were to throw months of hard work away. You knew what you wanted. The problem was grappling with whether it'd be a good idea to say the words out loud. 

Your indecisiveness earned you a piercing pain that rang from the veins of your neck to the tiniest of capillaries in your toes. There was no way to see the irreparable damage done. Alas, there was no need. You felt the sharp edge of each tooth sink into your throat, marking you. The agony, however, was thankfully quashed seconds later as you received your second reprimand. Between the tearing of lace and Lena thrusting three fingers into your tight channel, there was no time to stop the ear-splitting moan that tumbled from your lips and bellowed over the bathroom stalls. The sound alone sent any remaining occupants fleeing in fits of laughter as your stomach sunk due to both mortification and arousal. 

With Lena's new hand placement came the opportunity to use your hands again. Instead of using this as a chance to fight back, you pulled Lena up from the nook of your neck and hastily interlocked your lips together in a frenzied kiss. She reciprocated at first, then drew a sharp breath before pulling away. You attempted to chase her. However, you were woefully mistaken in thinking you had the authority to initiate such an act again. A brutal strike of curling fingers taught you that, alongside the smirk you witnessed when your eyes flew wide open and a shove to your neck forced the back of your head to collide with the wall. Lena wasn't shy with her pace after that. It was like she was adamant about proving how easy it was for her to drive you crazy. 

Trailing fingers up your jaw to the back of your neck, Lena bundled your loose waves into a bun and tugged, forcing you to look into her blackened eyes as she frowned. "Do that again, and I'll bring you to the brink over and over again, then leave you here crying. Understand?"

You heeded the warning with fast nods and chants of 'yes, yes, yes', which seemed to please the brunette. She kept up her hurried movements, digits sliding rapidly up and down your hot canal, occasionally curling to stroke the rough patch of tissue that had you seeing stars. 

The closer you got, the harder it was to remain still, and when Lena didn't stop your hips from matching the flow of her ministrations, you were beyond grateful. In fact, the move garnered reward, specifically a svelte hand moving south to knead your breasts. It turned out this was only a distraction from the nimble thumb readying itself for work. A swipe to your clit followed the next hit to your sweet spot, and before you knew what was happening, your stomach muscles were convulsing, and pangs of liquid heat soared through every vein in your body. 

Your breaths were short and shallow. Lewd moans were given free rein to fill the four walls of the suffocating stall, and the thrumming bass coming from outside was being overtaken by the pulsing sound of blood pumping in your ears. Yet, somehow, through it all, you could still hear the shameful jabs Lena was throwing at you. 

"I'm going to,” you began, only to be cut off by a stern voice.

"I don't think so, honey,” she interjected. “Who decides when you get to come?" 

"Lena, oh god, Lena," you cried, squeezing around her fingers and trying to stop the tight coil in your gut from unfurling. "I can't!"

"Who tells you when you get to come?" Lena barked, slowing down. 

Tears were welling in your eyes, giving shine to the stars interspersed across your vision.

"You!" 

"Who?!" Lena sped up again, redoubled her efforts and slipped a fourth finger inside you, filling you so completely that your knees almost buckled beneath you. Even still, you weren't granted permission to release the strained muscles holding you from your orgasm. 

"Fuck!" you screamed. A tear spilt down the side of your face, your jaw shook, and blood coated your tongue as you bit the inside of your cheek, tearing into the smooth flesh. “You do, Daddy!" 

Just when you thought you might pass out, hot breath skimmed the shell of your ear, and Lena whispered the words that were your undoing. 

"I want everyone to hear you. Come nice and hard for Daddy."

Finally, you let go. All the pent-up tension rushed to the surface like a tidal wave. It submerged you in a whirlpool of flooding pleasure that had you shouting out for Lena, begging her to hold you steady whilst you shook and shook for what felt like hours. Her arm was around you in no time, providing a lifeline to hold onto whilst her fingers kept you under, massaging soft tissue. 

You stood there, mind numb, body useless, until the shudders passed, and Lena carefully pulled her fingers out of you. It wasn't until after feeling had returned to your legs and the strain of standing wasn't registering that you realised Lena was practically holding you up. Her arms were on your hips, and her body firmly pressed you to the wall, so there was no chance you'd keel over. 

When your eyes met, you detected the slightest bit of worry, making your heart skip a beat, and that alone was why you didn't argue when the next thing she said was, "I'm taking you back to mine."

It wasn't so much a walk to the car; rather, Lena stormed through the club, dragging you alongside her before slamming you against the back door of the vehicle and kissing you silly. At first, you were taken aback. Her reluctance to do just this only minutes ago was still echoing between your legs. You shook it off and accepted the moment for what it was: fleeting. That was when the rain started to fall, and the drunken mob's laughter erupted into roars of childlike amusement, and for the first time in a while, you felt content. 

You laughed and laughed and laughed, genuine bubbling girly giggles shaking your chest and vibrating between rain-kissed lips. 

"I'm so screwed," you half-whispered, half-sighed, nestling your head into Lena's neck. And as the sky cried a fresh set of trickling tears that splattered off the car's window panes, you happily bled a few of your own. 

"Mmm," the older woman hummed in agreement, kissing your temple lightly. “Yes, you are."

Tags: @anonslay @homo-oddity | Click here to be added to my tag list

[writingfromasgard]

Worship [Kyle]

AN: for this reader isn't married to him. It's more of a teasing joke

gif source cw: minor cockworship, dumbly long kiss descriptions, Gaz being too hot

[Masterlist] || Requests are Open

Kyle supports his weight on his forearm, putting it up against the wall beside your head. His eyes, rich pools of deep brown, gaze at you with an amount of love and admiration that leaves you breathless. His lips stretching into a that grin that shows his smile lines around his eyes, coaxing a similar smile from your lips. Your hands instinctively land on his chest, sliding up to rest on his shoulders.

"Do you have to look at me like that?" You ask.

"Like you deserve?" He leans in, nose bumping up against the tip of yours.

It's stupid how smooth he is when he talks to you, knowing how easily his pretty words sway you. If you were half as good as he was with words, maybe you wouldn't need to be so physical with him.

Your focus narrowed onto his lips, making the rest of the world fall away, your breath warming his skin. Your hand cupped the back of his neck, pulling him back in. Your lips meet softly, a gentle brush that brings a wealth of warm over your body. He leans in, moving his hands to your sides, fingers digging into your skin.

You pressed your lips more firmly against his, deepening the kiss with an intensity that surprised even you. His lips parted, inviting you in and eagerly, you teased his tongue with yours. It became more urgent, a soft moan slipping from him. You drank it in, reveling in the noise coming from him.

Your other hand traced the curve of his back, pulling him closer until there was no space left between your bodies. The heat of his skin, the scent of his cologne, everything enhanced the sensation of feeling his lips against yours.

You pulled back just enough to look into his eyes, his own dark with passion and adoration. Both of you slightly breathless, a soft smile tugs at the corners of Kyle's lips. His hand still rests on your waist, his thumb gently tracing circles that send tingles across your skin.

"Missus Garrick, you can't kiss me like that. It'll give a man ideas." Kyle softly whispers.

"Maybe I've got a few of my own, Mister Garrick." You tease, "We could head home right now and I'd show them as many as I can before you're too tired."

He groans again, his head falling back to look up at the ceiling. With the rest of his team just a few feet away in the dimly lit bar, it would be easy for the two of you to slip out unnoticed. His eyes dart to their direction briefly, calculating the time needed to sneak unnoticed

He glances back at you, a sly grin forming on his lips. "I'll take lead."

He takes your hand, and you both move casually towards the door. The noise of the bar covers your footsteps, and before anyone can notice, you're outside in the cool night air. The city lights cast a soft glow on the street, making the walk to his flat all the more enjoyable. A few laughs and softer kisses shared along the way until the door finally swings open.

Kyle's slick, pushing you up against the door the minute you close it behind you. His lips crashing into yours while his hand wraps around the back of your neck. His knee nudges your legs apart, forcing you to grind on his thigh. You feel yourself lulling toward a dazed state, warmth flooding low in your belly.

You gently push on his chest, not wanting to be derailed from those ideas you had in the bar. He pulls back without hesitation, taking a step back.

"No go?" Kyle rubbed the back of his neck, looking apologetic.

"Very much go.. But I said I was going to show you my ideas." You lick your lips, pushing off the door. "Let me take the lead this time."

Surprise colors his face, "My baby wants to take lead tonight? I'm not going to say no."

Confidence sweeps over you, your hands taking his to guide him into his bedroom. You adjust the dimmer to keep the room lights low, a warm glow illuminating the space. You guide him to stand with the back of his knees touching the bed's edge.

"I might not be good with words.." You say softly. "But I can show you how much I love you."

Kyle's eyes don't leave yours as he takes a seat on the edge of the bed. There's a magnetic pull to lean down, pressing a soft kiss to his lips before starting on your plan. Your knuckles graze his stomach as you lift up the edge of his shirt over his head, eyes taking in every gorgeous inch of him. The single scar he had on his upper chest, close to his collar bones.

You lean in, kissing it like it'll make it disappear. You two weren't together when it happened but he's told you the story. You've seen bruises and cuts on his skin; you kiss every spot you can remember until you're kneeling in front of him, working off his shoes. When you look up at him, he smiles softly, reaching to cup your cheek.

"Help with your pants?" You reach for them, unzipping them.

He nods, lifting his hips up for you to take them off, boxers included. It's the first time he looks away from you, turning bashful as his hard cock springs out. You can feel yourself wanting to drool all over it, let your spit drip down his shaft. You wet your lips and lean forward, kissing the underside.

Kyle digs his hands into the comforter, moaning softly. You look up at him, catching his eyes darkening with lust. You lick at the path your lips created, going back to play with his balls. You gently cradle them, fondling the weighty orbs. He lets out a throaty groan of your name when you suckle one softly, hips bucking up.

You switch to the other, hand wrapping around his shaft to stroke it gently. His mouth falls open, head tilting back. Your mouth moves up to kiss the base, unable to resist when he was getting louder with each stroke. You pulled back to spit on your hand, slicking up his cock with it. A fat bead of precum leaks out of the tip, and you can't resist covering the head with your mouth to clean it off.

His hands tighten on the blanket below him, hips bucking upward to get more of his cock into your mouth. You moan, eyes locking with his half-lidded ones as you take him deeper. His body tenses, muscles flexing in his abdomen. You work his long cock until your nose is pressed against his curls nestled at its base. Your eyes flutter closed; something about the weight of him against your tongue makes you want to stay there until your lungs beg for air. You pull off, spit dripping down his shaft.

"I should do this more often. I love feeling your cock in my throat." As you speak, your hand is stroking his shaft, keeping his pleasure building.

"Baby -"

You wrap your lips around his tip again, taking him to the base before he can finish his own sentence. There's a strangled sound from his throat, his hands holding your head to move you faster. You revel in the sensation, letting him fuck your throat at a hypnotic rhythm. His cock slides in and out with ease now, your throat willingly accepting the intrusion.

Your hands find his thighs again, squeezing them. You suck harder, the taste of his precum mixing with your spit. You can feel it drip down your chin, eyes looking up at the man using your mouth as he pleases. His breath hitches as your eyes connect and his legs tense, like he's close to spilling every drop in those heavy balls into your mouth.

You take him down to the base one more time then slowly pull off of him, savoring the groan of protest. You clean off your chin with your thumb, popping it into your mouth. Kyle swallows hard, breathing ragged. He drags you up for a kiss, shoving his tongue into your mouth. You break it off with a chuckle, hand wrapping around his cock, slowly stroking it.

"I've came so many times on your dick.. Always fills and fucks me so good." Your cheek nuzzles the slick side of it as your hand starts pumping just the head of his cock. "Always takes work to fit you inside my cunt because you go so deep."

Kyle drops his head back, thrusting into your closed fist. "Filthy mouth on you tonight. Don't stop. I'm close. Please fuck don't stop, babes."

Your lips spread into a wicked grin, waiting for the signs that he was right on that edge. You mouth the underside of his cock, sucking lightly on it. His groans egg you on, making you move your hand faster.

You watch for the tensing again, his hips moving faster.. You jerked your hand away, smile growing as curses slip from his mouth. Your hand pushes on his stomach, careful not to touch his dick. His breathing is labored as he falls back on the bed, arm thrown over his eyes.

You take the take to strip, tossing your clothes beside his before straddling his hips. You push his arm up, looking into his gorgeous brown eyes. You know the burn from his cock stretching your walls is going to come as you sink the tip into your wet pussy.

You're deliberately slow, savoring every inch of his cock. His hands grip your thighs, helping you sink down at your own pace until you're wiggling down the last inch inside. You lean forward, kissing his lips, feeling his head drag against your walls. You moan softly, rolling your hips to make sure he's fully embedded inside you.

He grips your hips, listening to the soft thwap of skin on skin as you build your rhythm up. He starts rolling up, meeting you when you drop down. You sit back, putting your palms on his thighs to give him a better view of his cock disappearing into your greedy cunt. The new angle is hitting your g-spot, making your legs squeeze his sides.

"Kyle." You moan, hips moving faster now.

Kyle's eyes bore into yours, one hand slipping between your bodies, "I can't last much longer. All your teasing.. and this tight pussy. Taking me so damned well - fuck."

A whine leaves your throat and eyes trying to maintain contact with his. Your fingers squeeze his thighs as your breathing becomes erratic, hips moving faster. His jaw clenches tight, veins in his forearms bulging.

Sweat beads down the back of your neck, your lips part, breath catching in your throat. Your walls flutter then clench around his cock - a long, drawn, cracked version of his name leaving your throat.

Kyle grips your thighs, hissing as he releases a groan of pure pleasure. He's slamming you down on his cock one final time, ensuring he's balls deep inside your tight pussy. Liquid warmth fills you, your walls squeezing every drop he has to offer while you two come down from your respective highs.

With a lazy smile, you lean over him, kissing his lips in several soft pecks. "I hope you understand how much I love you, Mister Garrick."

His hands cup your cheeks, pulling you to press your forehead against his. "Missus Garrick, I don't have any doubts about how much you love me. I love you just as much."

[bluebells-and-dragonflies]

Can I request Reader asking Astarion nervously if you can spank him? Only if he's interested & after discussing about his boundaries & safe words!

Just for you, beloved anon.

NSFW below the cut! Mind the tags, and minors, please don't interact!

"So, I have a proposition for you," you begin, leaning back against the counter. Your heart pounds in your chest, but you try as hard as you can to push your apprehension down. He'd told you to be honest, after all. He'd told you to ask.

Astarion lifts his head from the book he's reading at the table in the middle of your kitchen, attention immediately redirected to you. He closes it without looking away from your face. "Oh? Do tell. You always have the most interesting ideas."

You grin at him at the same time he grins at you, and you both have to stifle a laugh. Your ideas are very interesting, if you do say so yourself. Astarion certainly tends to think so, if the way he'd flushed the time you suggested fucking him instead of the other way round was any indication.

It takes real effort to draw your focus back to the conversation at hand instead of reminiscing on where that particular discussion had led. "I was thinking about things I might like to try, like we talked about."

Astarion straightens in his chair. "Go on."

"And I came up with something else." You take a breath. There's really no good way to say it, so you just brace youself and hope for the best. "I want to try spanking. Spanking you. So do with that what you will."

There's a heavy silence once you've spoken, the two of you staring at each other in a beat of mutual thought. Anxiety surges in your chest as you watch his face, looking for any sign of discomfort or disgust. The last time you talked about sex and limits, you'd promised each other that you'd share any fantasies that came up. Astarion wants to experiment as much as possible, wants to find out what he likes, and he said he would at least consider virtually anything. But this is something you haven't tried yet: you haven't ever taken the more dominant role when those dynamics come into play. It could be a problem, you know that, and of course you're afraid that even asking will remind him of things he'd rather forget. But you want to give him the opportunity to say yes or no instead of making his decisions for him.

A slow smile starts to spread across Astarion's face as he stands up from his chair, crossing the space between you in two strides and pressing so close that you have to crane your neck up to see him properly. His fangs flash over his bottom lip, his eyes darken, and when he croons "Well, darling, I think I could be amenable," you're flooded with the heat of knowing he wants it as bad as you do.

So it is that you find yourself watching Astarion undress himself before you as you sit on the side of your bed, fully clothed. You're long past any need for modesty with each other, and he flashes you a sultry smirk as he pulls his shirt over his head.

"Same safe-words as always?" you ask. Astarion tugs his trousers down, and you get a rather delightful view of the toned muscles in his thighs as he kicks them off (and across the room, but that's something to deal with later).

"Fine with me," he says. "'Dagger' for stop. Snap of the fingers if we can't talk." His underwear goes the same way as his trousers, and before you know it he's straddling your lap, arms thrown around your neck. His lips are on yours almost instantly, and you kiss him back with pure muscle memory, raising your hands to cup his face and run your fingers through his curls. When you tug ever-so-gently, you're rewarded with the smallest moan into your mouth.

It takes the better part of fifteen minutes to get completely situated- you're entirely unable to keep your hands off of each other, and at one point Astarion nearly derails the whole thing by pinching your nipples through the fabric of your shirt- but you get there eventually. Astarion lies over your lap, facedown, his ass exposed to you. He rests his head on his arms and wiggles a little as he settles.

"Are you ready?" you ask, sliding your palm over the smooth skin of his lower back.

"Yes," he says, and no more than that. Before you have time to talk yourself out of it, you cup one of his cheeks, then quickly smack it with the flattest part of your hand.

It's not a particularly hard blow, but Astarion jolts a bit anyway, his cock dragging against the inner part of your thigh. He takes a breath- one, two, three- and you see his fingers flex in the fabric of the bedspread.

"Again," he hisses. "Gods- again," and his voice is low and strained and almost unbelievably fucking hot, and you've never been good at saying no to him. Every time you hit him, he tells you again, more. Every time you hit him, he seems to grow harder against you. You spank him again and again, alternating between cheeks, hitting every part of his ass until his skin glows pink., and you're raising your hand to deliver another blow when he stumbles on his demand.

Your hand stills. "Is this alright?"

Astarion lifts his head to look over his shoulder at you incredulously. "Are you serious?"

"I just want to hear you say it."

You can almost physically see him biting back whatever quip or barb has sprung to the tip of his tongue. "Yes, darling," he says instead, letting his head fall back down to the mattress. "It's alright. It's- it's good."

Reassured, you raise your hand. Astarion tenses when you pull away, already anticipating the next blow. it's obvious that he's expecting it (and that he wants it- he's grinding shallowly against your thigh, little aborted thrusts of his hips that he's clearly struggling to keep control of), but you refuse to give it to him, just for a second. Instead, you trail your fingertips up his side and relish in the reaction you get: a soft sigh and a gorgeous shiver.

He does look good like this, you think to yourself as you squeeze his hip just enough to win a short little gasp. What a privilege to be the one to get to see it. His ass has blushed a very pretty shade of pink where he's taken your blows. Something deep in your belly twists at the knowledge that it's your blood that courses through his veins. Your blood that fills the hard cock digging insistently into your inner thigh.

"How many more do you think, darling?" you murmur, running a soothing hand up his spine and into the downy hair at the nape of his neck. "Tell me what you want. Tell me what will get you there."

He hesitates only a moment. "Twenty." His voice is steadier than you would have thought. "Give me twenty. I..I want to know how it feels."

"Alright, love." Your hand returns to the curve of his ass. You gently press your fingertips into his reddened skin and admire the pale marks left behind.

Later, you'll remember as clearly as if you're living through it again. On the first hit, Astarion gasps, a sharp inhale of breath that he doesn't need or mean to take. On the fifth hit, he starts making sounds in the back of his throat, punched-out little ah-ah-ahs as your hand connects with his ass again and again. On the eleventh hit, Astarion begins to lose control of the movement of his body, and the restrained grind of his cock against your thighs becomes more and more frantic. On the sixteenth hit, he cries out, genuinely cries out, a wordless shout of pain and pleasure. He doesn't say his safe-word, doesn't signal you, just writhes in your lap alive with arousal and need. And on the nineteenth hit, he comes with a wanton, aching moan, unable to stop himself from leaving your thighs an absolute mess. You stop there, and when you gently brush the sweat-soaked hair from his forehead and whisper "thank you," Astarion smiles at you like you've lit the sun.

Afterward, there are hours (maybe even days) of aftercare, and the two of you discuss every single part of what you've done together: what you liked best, what you want to do again, what felt good. The next time you find yourself in the same position, it's him who asks you, a pink flush at the tips of his ears. For now, though, you're content to take care of him.

[report-rqs]

Step-by-step: Let's report a radqueer for inciting violence

This is a tutorial on reporting. Don't find this user, don't contact them, don't harass them, etc - I am showing how you should report these posts instead. Content warnings: Radqueers, murder, torture

Here is our post in question:

"transtorturemurderer: a transharmful term for one who wishes to or identifies as having commited torture murder"

Archive the post.

Report the post to Tumblr.

Block the blog and everyone in the notes of the post.

Tutorial on each step is under the cut:

Archive The Post

When a radqueer advocates for violence, child abuse, animal abuse, abuse of a corpse or actual CSAM material, it's very important that you archive the post. Saving evidence of radqueers promoting harm is important, especially if this user later comes back after their account is removed.

(It is important to note that I am specifically saying "advocates for" as in in real life. If a radqueer coining post doesn't specify, it can be reported to Tumblr as IRL. I'm noting "IRL" here because so many people think that fictional child sexual abuse material (and similar things) are perfectly fine, although I would like to note that I do not support/endorse "fictional CSAM" and it is recognized as being equally harmful to IRL CSAM/CP by places like MissingKids.com (organizations dedicated to stopping child abuse). But I'm not dedicating this space to arguing about that - Do not derail this post by arguing with me about this. This is a tutorial for something specific.)

You have two main options for archiving:

Archive.Org

Archive.Today

I tend to use both archivers, but if you only want to use one I suggest Archive.Today. Open the main page and copy-paste the URL of the RQ post into the field. Press enter, and it will store an archived version of the post. (Sometimes this takes longer than other times, this is based on how many people are using the site at once.)

If you plan to do a lot of reporting, install the Firefox extensions for Archive.Today and Archive.Org, they let you archive your current page with one click.

If a page has been archived before, you get this message. If it looks like a post has been edited or there are new replies in the notes from radqueers encouraging it, I suggest archiving it again.

Now you've got your updated archived URL. Hold onto this URL.

Report Them To Tumblr

You'll need to view the post in dashboard view if they have a custom theme. Custom theme URLS go like blogname.tumblr.com, and dashboard view is tumblr.com/blogname/post122121212121212121.

Once in dashboard view, click the hamburger menu (the three dots), and you'll see the red option that says "Report blogname."

This takes you to a basic categories menu. Select "Report something else."

That takes you to a sub menu which lets you pick from the following options:

Copyright violation

Trademark violation

Harm to minors

Privacy violation

Impersonation or Non-Genuine Behavior

Suicide or self-harm concern

Hate speech violation

Suspected terrorism

Sexually explicit material

Gore, mutilation, or bestiality

Violent content or threat

I’m being harassed

Unlawful uses or content

Spam

Election Integrity

I bolded the options which radqueer posts will most likely fall into. For the post I'm reporting, I am selecting "Violent content or threat."

You'll enter Tumblr's permalink (the post url), enter a name, your email, solve a captcha and most importantly describe how it violates Tumblr's Community Guidelines. Since I'm reporting this for violence, let's go right to the Community Guidelines on Tumblr:

What Tumblr is not for: Violent Content and Threats, Gore and Mutilation. Don't post content which includes violent threats toward individuals or groups - this includes threats of theft, property damage, or financial harm. Don't post violent content or gore just to be shocking. Don't showcase the mutilation or torture of human beings, animals (including bestiality), or their remains. Don't post content that encourages or incites violence, or glorifies acts of violence or the perpetrators.

You can use the way a website's phrased their guidelines as a sort of base for writing your report. However, on Tumblr remember that it needs to be fairly short because there's a character limit. So, questions to answer:

Does this include violent threats towards a person or group? Is this a label/"pride flag" about committing violence against a person or group?

Does this encourage violence - is it telling people to commit acts of violence?

Is it glorifying acts of violence or their perpetrators?

In this example, this is a pride flag, which denotes pride, and it says "one who wishes to or identifies as having commited torture murder" That is reasonable enough cause to call this post glorifying violence. So, here's what I'm saying in my report: (Changed phrasing slightly from the screenshot above)

This user is posting "pride flags" for people who "identify as" and "wish to" into murderers and other violent perpetrators. In this post, they made a "transorturemurderer" pride flag, for people who wish to commit torture murder. This is very concerning, this blog seems to be completely serious. Please take this blog and other radqueer blogs down.

If a user has many posts right on their blog that violate the Community Guidelines, you can say something akin to "More examples: (Link)" and link to the archived post/s.

Once you're satisfied with your report, you can click submit and Tumblr will say "Got it" and let you know it was received.

Block the blog and everyone in the notes

If you still have the post open, quickly go through the notes and block everyone interacting positively. (Don't spend time looking at these blogs, it will likely be upsetting/disturbing)

Closing Notes

I could've phrased the part about removing other radqueer blogs better. My reason for adding that is that I want Tumblr to start becoming aware of what radqueers post. I believe firmly that once enough people report radqueers for their content, Tumblr might respond to future petitions or requests to ban all radqueer content.

Don't reply to radqueer posts. Don't reply to radqueer posts. This can be tempting, but I don't think it's a good idea. Even if you've got good intentions or make some great points, radqueers like to screenshot anti radqueer posts and post them as examples of "antis harassing them". Your post could even be shown to someone who is questioning being radqueer, grooming them into the community with a sort of "Look! See? All of those mean antis will never accept you, all they do is harass people for disagreements!" air.

I'm autistic and can't read tone well, and I also have OCD that makes me overexplain my intentions. If parts of this post were hard to read, please help me make them shorter.

Tagging some relevant blogs for visibility and critique on this post: @anti-radqueer-zone @radqueer-repellant @radq-blocklist @antiradqueer

[germiyahu]

If someone derails your conversation about Israel to be about Israel's treatment of this or that group, Mizrachim, Beta Israel, etc. you may just want to consider their motivations, and do a little digging into the kinds of subjects they normally talk about on their own blogs.

If someone who has staunchly antizionist views, like I'm talking thinly veiled genocidal fantasies about destroying Israel and reveling in the chaos that would bring, and having no concern for the future of 7 millions Jews, their concerns about Medinat Yisrael's treatment of minority groups are not valid.

This is Concern Trolling.

If someone is derailing you to accuse Israel, through accusing you, of sterilizing Ethiopian women, stealing Mizrachi babies and having them raised by "white" parents, trying to destroy Yiddish, all these alleged violent assimilationist policies that Israel employs against fellow Jews?

A non Jew barging into your space and bringing up intra-community issues and grievances is a red flag. Do not fall for the sealioning trap. Do not turn out your pockets. Do not fall for the concern trolling.

Because what is their solution to these problems? To eliminate Israel as a state? And what about these minority groups within Israeli society then? Their answer is the same as their answer for the Ashkenazim: who cares? They largely imagine all Israeli Jews can simply move to the United States or France or something. The fact that over 95% of Israelis cannot just go to the countries of their parents or grandparents is of no concern to them.

That's why it's concern trolling. They're trolling you by pretending to be concerned, and baiting you into discussing an intra-community issue because they think that'll be the argument that finally gets you to disavow Israel. Because now you'll have no choice but to agree Israel is irredeemably problematic, because now it affects other Jews. So they are exhibiting a kind of bitterly envious brand of antisemitism. They think that all Jews believe in Jewish supremacy. They're quite mad about it. This is an aspect of the Chosen People canard.

But the main reason concern trolling is bad is because they don't care about these groups they bring up. They're not defending them, they're not championing their rights. They're trying to distract you and make you look like a hypocrite. When they cheer for Hamas raping and pillaging and spraying bullets into Israelis, they don't care if it happens to Beta Israel women who've supposedly been mass sterilized against their will. They cheer all the same. So much for their legitimate concerns that Israel is antisemitic in of itself I guess?

If the solution to a problem faced by a minority group within a country is "destroy their country which they also believe has saved them from ethnic cleansing and mass death, and figure out the rest later," you're not an ally to that group; stop pretending you are!

This is tied into pinkwashing, but from a sort of opposite approach. If any societal progress that Israel makes for minority groups is a psyop and a marketing ploy to cover up Palestinian Genocide, the concern trolling is antizionists holding Israel hostage to any societal progress it has not made. But they never intend on letting Israel improve these relationships. Israel is too nice to gay Jews, and not nice enough to African Jews. The only course of action therefore, is to let Hamas butcher them alongside straight Jews and "European" Jews.

So if you see someone trying to engage in this game, ignore them! Your time is worth so much more, and the vulnerable minority groups of Jews (both in Israel and the Diaspora) are much safer with Jews who discriminate against them than goyim who tout social justice rhetoric but want to see them dead. Plus, so many Jews are already doing the work, learning and listening, and trying to improve. This enrages the concern trolls like nothing else.

Call out Israel's bigotries, but you know, maybe don't trust the people who aren't affected by those bigotries invading your space and demanding your allyship to groups of people they'd be content seeing die en masse. Like "Israel is actually antisemitic against this vulnerable group of Jews!" and "All Israelis are settlers, none are truly civilians, and any form of violence against settlers is justified" are two stances that do not mesh very well...

Because at the very least, they're separating good Jews from bad Jews again, just based on what they perceive intra-Jewish oppression to be like. And they expect these good Jews to cheer and happily live as dhimmis in the absolute chaos that is a 100% inevitable Hamas-Fatah civil war and total societal collapse... and spit on the graves of their kinsmen.

And at worst, the concern trolls won't bother distinguishing these vulnerable Jews from their alleged oppressors anyway, and happily watch as they all flee with the clothes on their backs or get gunned down or enslaved by Hamas "Resistance" Fighters.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

WIBTA for telling the blunt truth to my roommate, that shes immature, irresponsible, and rude?

[-.-] < so I can recognize

so I (20) have three roommates, A(20), B(21 or 22), and C(20). We all attend the same college. I have lived with A for 2 years, but we only started living with B and C in fall 2023. so far there have been some issues, and most of them revolve around interacting with C. C has a cat, and they keep the litterbox in their room of our apartment, so they always have their door open. This itself isnt really a problem, but I feel like its eroding the distinction between common space and their personal space for them. Often when there is another conversation happening at the table or on the couch, C will come out of their room, sit on the couch, and watch loud videos on their phone without headphones. Then, they will hear a small part of our conversation, react in TOTAL shock and awe, demand we recap the last 5-10 minutes of conversation to catch them up, then go right back to their video. On another occasion, I was talking with either A or B as well as C, when C said they were overstimulated and needed some quiet time (no problem with that, it happens) so they were going to put in their headphones and. stay in the living room on the couch. instead of going to their room.

They also will completely derail conversations into complete dead ends and traumadumping. I was driving, C was in the passenger seat, and B and our friend G(18 or 19 iirc) were in the back. we were chatting about our parents being silly and making harmless fun of us at various points, and C multiple times said "we're not talking about times my parents took away phones bc Trauma!" like. If you dont want to talk about it DONT BRING IT UP. C could have chimed in w a time their friend did something like that and it would be fine! but instead they latched onto the parent part. They do this fairly often, and it makes it really hard to have a conversation where we casually mention our childhoods, bc its always a minefield w C, as they will make a point to bring up that they lacked the circumstances for whatever experience we are talking about, either due to bad relationships w parents or due to growing up poor.

On top of all this, they also are not financially in a good place. They routinely dont have money for food and end up eating mostly communal stuff. Sometimes when they are low on money I will end up buying something communal just so they will stop carrying on. IMO if they are in that sort of financial situation they shouldnt have gotten a cat, bc I honestly dont think they can afford it. tbh I feel like they pretty much live on the cheese and tortillas I buy, and i'm starting to feel the financial stress of it.

They are constantly making every interaction about themselves in ways that make it really hard, even when they arent even part of the conversation.

Repeatedly i've wanted to tell them that they dont have to be involved in everything, and that they dont have to always be talking or generating noise. That when other people are talking, they need to either contribute constructively to the conversation, wait their turn, or at the very least stop and apologize when they interrupt someone instead of talking right over them for minutes at a time. And that its not our responsibility to help them when they are low on money, that maybe they shouldnt have gotten a cat if they werent able to financially support it, and also that it shouldnt be our (me, A and B)'s job to walk on egg shells bc they have emotional outbursts over incredibly minor things (they do take mood stabilizers and have a disorder that effects their mood, but that doesnt mean its ok that they will sometimes seem really angry and aggressive out of absolutely nowhere, yelling swears with no provocation).

What are these acronyms?

[liaromancewriter]

Day One (2/6)

Series Premise: What happened when Cassie met Sienna? Small moments that defined their friendship.

Book: Open Heart Characters: Cassie Valentine (F!MC), Sienna Trinh Rating/Category: Teen. Fluff. Words: 1,140 TW: Mention of minor character death

Catch up: Part 1

A/N: Submission for @choicesficwriterscreations You Go Girls event, and to @aprilchallenge prompt "laughter".

The penthouse apartment at the edge of Boston’s Beacon Hill neighborhood was quiet. Too quiet. Sienna Trinh glanced around the empty living room and kitchen. She thought how strange the apartment felt without Cassie Valentine in it.

From day one, she and Cassie had felt an instant connection as roomies. Sharing confidences and midnight snacks when neither could sleep. Baking cookies on a Sunday morning while the others slept in. Unwinding after a long day with a binge session of trashy reality TV shows and popcorn.

This apartment had become a home in the past year and a half. A refuge from the hard choices they faced as residents.

Eight months ago, Sienna had almost abandoned her dream of becoming a doctor. The realities of medicine were too harsh, even more so now with everything they’d been through.

In the space of forty-eight hours, Sienna had lost a dear friend to a senseless poison attack, watched another fall into a coma and urged her best friend to fight with everything she had. Except for a brief moment, Cassie hadn’t let despair derail her determination to live.

She closed her eyes and sighed deeply. It was late, and she should be asleep. She was working a double shift starting tomorrow, which was brutal without proper rest. But she knew sleep was the farthest thing from her mind right now. What she needed was her bestie.

Sienna wanted Cassie here, in this apartment that represented everything safe and good and right in their lives. Not in a sterile hospital room with machines beeping at all hours and the acerbic smell of antiseptic that permeated the walls.

An idea formed, and before she could talk herself out of it, Sienna marched into the bedroom to set everything into motion.

Almost an hour later, Sienna ducked inside the staff entrance, reflecting on how different Edenbrook was at night. The access to the Emergency Department and ambulance bay were always busy, but this part of the building was quieter. Most residents on the night shift were either on the floor or in the on-call room.

She first dropped her bag in the resident’s locker room, clipped her hospital ID on the lapel of her cardigan and then took the elevator to the medicine floor.

Visiting hours were long over, thought Sienna, but there were distinct advantages of working in a hospital. The nurse on duty would just assume she was on shift and checking on a patient. And that’s precisely what happened.

Not wanting to disturb Cassie if she was asleep, Sienna creaked open the door and popped her head through the crack. The ceiling lights were on low, and adjusting her eyes took a few seconds.

Sienna smiled when she saw Cassie was awake and thrumming her fingers against her stomach, as she did when she was bored.

“Want some company?” she called out.

“Hey! What are you doing here?” Cassie smiled in welcome, pressing the button to raise the back of the hospital bed.

Sienna entered, gently closing the door behind her, and placed a carry-on bag at the foot of the bed.

“I come bearing gifts. If you’re in the mood, of course,” she added quickly. “I can come back tomorrow if you’re tired.”

“Don’t you dare!” Cassie warned. “But, you’re not allowed to ask how I’m doing. Deal?”

Sienna pursed her lips as if considering, and then she grinned. “Deal!”

“I didn’t see you all day,” Cassie commented as Sienna pulled the visitor’s chair closer. “My parents were here earlier. I wanted them to meet you.”

“I’m sorry,” Sienna said. “I know Max wanted Twin Time, so I made myself scarce. And then I got busy with patients. I’m on the ICU floor this week.”

“It’s not a complaint, Si,” Cassie assured her. “I missed you, that’s all.”

She glanced curiously at the bag at the foot of the bed. “I’m dying to know what’s inside.”

“Well…” Sienna beamed and unzipped the bag, reaching inside with all the dramatic flair of Elijah’s unboxing videos. “I asked myself, if I had to stay in a hospital room, what would make that tolerable?”

Cassie gasped when Sienna pulled out her favorite nightgown. It was black silk with a scooped neckline and trimmed with lace. The matching robe followed.

“I can’t tell you how much I hate this hospital gown,” Cassie murmured, hugging the folded gown and robe to her chest like a teddy bear. “I’m going to get changed. Right now.”

She shoved the covers aside and climbed out of bed. Cassie waved away Sienna’s concern as she held on to the bed’s guardrail for a minute, letting her tired leg muscles adjust to gravity.

Cassie straightened once she had her bearings and carefully walked into the attached bath.

Sienna waited near the bathroom door in case her friend called for help, but Cassie returned a few minutes later with a pep in her step. Still, Sienna could see she was out of breath and helped her back into bed.

“What else?” Cassie asked, rubbing her hands in excitement.

Sienna pulled out an emergency make-up kit and portable mirror and set them on the tray trolley in front of Cassie. She also showed her the curling iron but didn’t remove it from the bag.

“Si!” Cassie exclaimed loudly before lowering her voice. “Omigod! You’re a miracle worker. A saint. They should name buildings after you.”

Sienna cheerily winked, grinning at the happiness on her bestie’s face. She still remembered how Cassie had looked in that room, sunken eyes, face drawn, a sense of defeat threatening to ruin everything.

“I mean, I know Ethan’s seen me at my worst, but I felt haggard every time he came to check on me,” Cassie said, unzipping the make-up bag and removing a few essentials. “Max just doesn’t get the life-affirming qualities of a good concealer and pretty lip gloss.”

“I know Max knows you best. But, as wonderful as he is, he’s still a guy.” Sienna shook her head in mock dismay. “And therefore clueless about what women truly need.”

Sienna rolled her eyes, and they both giggled. Soon they were doubled over in laughter, unable to stop even as they sucked in air.

“He tries his best,” Cassie said, wiping at the tears spiking her eyelashes. “Bless his heart.”

She held out the foundation to Sienna. “I know it’s the middle of the night, but I don’t want to wait till morning to feel like myself. Will you help me? My hands are still a bit shaky. The after-effects of everything, I suppose.”

Sienna sat down on the side of the bed and helped her friend feel like herself again. Later, she would think it was the best sleepover of her life, but thankfully not the last she would share with her best friend.

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

All Fics & Edits: @annfg8 @bluebelle08 @coffeeheartaddict2 @crazy-loca-blog @doriopenheart @genevievemd @headoverheelsforramsey @lucy-268 @jamespotterthefirst @jerzwriter @lady-calypso @mainstreetreader @peonierose @potionsprefect @queencarb @quixoticdreamer16 @rookiemartin @socalwriterbee @takemyopenheart @tessa-liam @trappedinfanfiction

Submissions: @choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics

[blueinkphantom]

season 2 didn’t even start and I already have an angsty idea but i don’t know if it’s too early for it and it got longer than i thought it would so it’s under the cut

everything is going relatively well the first weeks/months. more people find each other, connect, become friends. there are still conflicts but this time they manage to solve them before they escalate and derail. some minor conflicts can’t be solved/don’t get solved but it’s ok because it doesn’t get worse at least. it doesn’t develop into major conflicts.

many that drifted/split apart in the prior timeline found each other again. this time most stay. fiancés marry, old trios reunite, allies and friends that stayed till the end stick around once more. buildings stand, created by more than one pair of hands. laughter comes from a house that looks big and inviting. nights at a campfire and singing along to music.

no one knows who experienced it first. the faint deja-vu. this slight feeling of familiarity accompanied by a brief flash of a similar picture to the current scene with a different amount of divergence each time.

it’s not always bad. some give off warmth and happiness. (another house built for everyone by multiple hands. the repetitious ringing of a bell. a big bed with enough place for a cuddle pile.)

But some leave the person with unease. A feeling of wrong, run, hide, DANGER! help... please

(A haircut with shears too loud. An explosion done for quick clearing of space. a sleeping figure in blue.)

It started small. only every once in a while. then it happened more often. and then, the seal broke.

dream was hanging out with two of his new friends, sapnap and george. they clicked easily when they first saw each other just like he did when he met some of the other people like punz or tina.

none of them knew afterwards what triggered it. what cut the last string holding it back. what opened the cage of memories that don’t fit in with the last months. they don’t know if it was words spoken or an action done.

what they do remember is seeing another life flash trough their minds in seconds. snippets that their mind tries to fit in with what it had prior. it hurt, it was agonizing and even that word did not fit the amount of pain that surged through them and knocked them all out.

when dream got a semi-grip on consciousness, he found himself on the floor. his mind was still trying to fit everything in but struggled. there are still parts missing that made it hard to connect the newly received memories with his but at least he could now somewhat think again.

he stood up, legs shaky which he blames on his recently unconscious state. sapnap and george’s eyes were open and he debated on what to do. stay or run go?

they are his friends. they have been for months. they have been before. they are safe. its best to stay with them, find out if they experienced something similar and then figure it out together. after all, these memories don't make sense. if they were true, where are his scars that would replace his birthmarks? Where are the few leftover dirty blond streaks among his white hair? if these memories were true, there should be something left to prove it but there isn’t.

so he should stay. stay and talk with them.

it's when one pair of eyes catches sight of him and the part of his mind with the new memories takes over that the decision falls and he runs, his panicked thoughts circling through the same few words. left, promise, run! punz!

there’s hardly any thought as he moves. mostly instinct and it’s instinct that leads him to one person that brings up feelings of safety. It leads him into the arms of a person who seemed to have the same thought as him if the speed at which they neared each other had anything to say.

it leads to a tight hug that means more than when they hugged in greetings or goodbyes. it leads to the person that his mind, still overwhelmed and overloaded with new memories, experiences and pain, deems secure enough. it leads to a short period of comfort before they tackle the issues these memories will probably bring

[electricbluebutterflies]

Jess/Leto + needing their cuddles even though they have something else to do

Choice-era, PG-ish, also on ao3.

Jessica was not mentally prepared for any of this.

The general theory of pregnancy, fine, she’s known what her body was fated for since she was barely old enough to understand any of it. The nuances and emotional changes… not so much. The self-inflicted simultaneous misery and beauty and-

The rising problem, roughly midway through this hellscape, is that she has suddenly started to understand casual touch.

Again, her own past is something close to useless in this new phase of her life. Wanting proximity for the sake of it, no ulterior motives just desire, is… starting to get her in a lot of trouble, even before the exact nature of her actions becomes visible, her partner suspects but she claims she doesn’t know and he leaves that be because he’s at least starting to figure out what rabbits not to chase and-

She should know better. She should know better than to do a lot of things. She does them anyways.

It is the middle of the day, and she is well aware that her partner has priorities that are understandably not her, and she is well aware that most of his advisers are polite to her in public only because they’ve noticed the positive effects of her presence and no one will appreciate her deciding to be a distraction, and-

She just needs a few minutes. She’s getting in the way of mundane paperwork, not a meeting or an emergency. Improper, but not the end of the world.

She steadies herself in the hallway first, makes sure everything looks perfect, hair up and cocoon dress adequately concealing her changing form. How she feels about the state of her body is yet another problem she’s going out of her way not to deal with; it’s only temporary, she thinks, she’ll be pretty again afterwards, she’ll be-

Oh, who is she even trying to convince, that word barely applied to her even before this. Afterwards… even with her abilities, even with every bit of care available on this planet, the body is never quite the same. Maybe it’ll be for the better, maybe her angles will soften enough to stop the playful comments her partner makes about being worried he’ll cut himself on her when they entwine, she knows those aren’t meant harmful but it still hurts her and-

Either be a minor pest now, cause more problems later in the day, or wait until nightfall. Least of evils in option one, Jessica thinks. Least of evils.

She sticks her head through the open door – always a good sign, accessibility in her favor – and manages to make eye contact with her partner. “Can I…”

The rarity of her midday adventures thisaway – at least adventures that anyone knows about, how much time she spends lingering in hallways is between her and the stars – is enough to get her what she wants. The space clears efficiently enough, whispers she chooses not to hear, and-

“Is something wrong?”

“I just need a few moments.”

“You realize that’s not an answer.”

“I need warmth.” She is trying to be vague and tactful, and her patience is not what it was before the current interference, all of her moods have become more volatile, and-

“Warmth,” her partner replies, taking the hint and crossing the distance between them. “Did something…”

“You can ask that however many ways you like and the answer is still no,” she laughs. “I just… need. And I know it’s bad timing and-“

“Giving me a few moments to breathe is not-“

“A few moments,” she repeats as his arms wrap around her. “Not… not enough to derail anything. Promise.”

They fit differently now, she thinks, her body occupying slightly different space, but still like they were made for each other. Jessica’s belief in fate has been fading since she decided to rebel, and-

Is that even the right word for it? Will her child ever get to be anything more than a living manifestation of her stubbornness and corruptibility?

The fear is enough to overpower her control, to make her eyes water and in turn her face hides against her partner’s shoulder. She can’t get anything she wants without making someone else’s life difficult; even this little interlude will cause problems, they’ll blow over but-

“It’s going to be a long few months,” she murmurs, and at least she’s coherent, at least-

“We’ll get through.”

She admires him, she thinks, the earned confidence and the determination more optimistic than her own. It does take multiple people to make such a dramatic choice, and ideally their son will be a good combination of both of them, ideally-

She slips out of the embrace before her mind can go down that tangent, before she can let herself believe that anything she’s done was right. Desperate, yes. Caged animal trying to survive. Not… not…

“I’ll see you later?”

“Is that what you want?” Always the caution of him, made more noticeable in the current phase of their dynamic, always-

“I risked ruining your day because I wanted to be held for a minute. If you think I don’t want you in my bed after that…”

She walks away before anything else can happen, before any of her uncertainties can become even bigger problems. She’s done enough damage, and her other needs can wait until night, and-

Oh, she’ll ruin everything with enough time on her hands. She’s not sure that’d be a bad thing either.

[cabinofimagines]

Because of your rough and poorly made responses, this blog is stopped. Improve your attitudes or else stop answering your followers aggressively, it doesn't make you better 🤮

I wanna be very clear about this and I hope you read carefully cause i'm not gonna repeat myself

I'm assuming you're talking about the last ask where the anon talked about their cousin bc on the first one I made sure to explain my intention was to not sound rude but to explain why I think is bad to have such mentality and demean yourself over that kind of stuff

This blog is run by adults, and we're extremely careful now about what kind of things we allow in here, bc we're aware most of our active followers are minors. That ask was well-intentioned but it was talking about some contents we are not comfortable sharing in the blog anymore. That's why I said in the tags not to send more about it.

Maybe I shouldn't have posted it at all, but we thought it was a little funny how they wrote the whole thing so nonchalantly and if you really have been following us, or used to anyway, you would know this is how we've always responded. We've gotten weirder asks, we've deleted those, this one was only a little TMI, so we thought it was ok to post as long as we made it clear we weren't encouraging them to send more stuff like that.

We're not trying to be better than anyone else, if we don't want to be reading asks like that one we're gonna say it and that's it, we've established many times this is our blog and we're going to prioritize our preferences over the followers' every time, cause we're the ones handling it.

We've turned this blog into something that actually gives us joy and that inspire us to keep creating content that many people appreciate, more importantly, it's turned us (the admins) into really good friends, and if you think i'm going to let one of them be uncomfortable having to read those kind of asks they don't like to read, you are sorely mistaken.

I said what I had to say about the whole subject the first anon brought up, I posted the other cause, even though it derailed in the middle, still had a nice message in the end, so I let it pass. And i'm answering this one to remind you we are not working for you and we don't really have to explain ourselves or appeal to you, but we still try to keep our blog as a safe space for all of the visitors. If you think that setting boundaries makes us rude, then you did the right thing by unfollowing us.

Have a good day/night.

-Danny

[magnowlia]

Embrace her name, Nathalie Hayes Deraile.

Entry #1 ; Bits Of Sunshine

Now that you’re familiar, I may go by Nath, Alie, Lilie, or any other alias that does not make you forget me. I am still a minor (if you consider 17 as underage), born as a cancer under the summer haze. I’m most comfortable being addressed with feminine terms. Please do note that my account is what I consider as a public diary, my own safe space—unlabeled.

Entry #2 ; What My Closet Looks Like

I am a big fan of Formula 1, apologize in advance if you see me stressed every Sunday (if you can’t tell already, i’m a tifosi).

I’m into books as well, currently obsessing over fantasy genre (The Poppy War, Six Crimson Crows, A Study in Drowning, anything by V.E Schwab), I’m also trying to get myself into literary fiction, a never-ending TBR on my hands yet so little time to read all of them.

As a scaredy cat, of course I enjoy watching thriller & horror movies even though my eyes are closed for the whole entire 2 hours. Some masterpieces I’ve watched are Get Out, Us, The Conjuring universe, Halloween, Incantation. To stop my heart from exploding from so many jumpscares, I love love love easy series such as Gilmore Girls, Modern Family, Everybody Hates Chris. Also other movies like The Princess Diaries, Legally Blonde, Mean Girls, Pitch Perfect, La La Land, Confession Of A Shopaholic.

Music keeps me going, I have dozens of playlist for different occasions and situations. Most of them are filled with Jeff Bernat, Frank Ocean, Billie Eilish, Sabrina Carpenter, Tyla, ENHYPEN, The Cranberries, Novo Amor, LANY, Lauv, Hozier, Mac DeMarco, John Mayer, Omar Apollo, ZAYN.

One last thing, I’m in love with mornings. Spending the little time of peace I have with pilates, journaling, jazz, yummy breakfast, and morning walks make me feel like a better person.

Entry #3 ; Help A Girl Out!

Before you enter my space, assure that you’re not a homophobic, a private qrt-er (it makes me anxious!!!), and a NSFW oriented account. I strictly do not accept any kind of hate on my page as well, let’s be kind…. Other than that, I’m welcome to everyone, greet me and I’ll be your bff in two seconds! ^_^ If you have anything to say, reach me on my DM or retrospring