#i am simply turning off the reblog function on this

[fairy-writes]

then how about this: Akaza with a demon that's actually from hell and not from accepting Muzan's blood?

MAKE A DEAL

Reblogs and Comments are greatly appreciated!!

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Fandom(s): Demon Slayer

Pairing(s): Akaza x Reader

Word Count: 0.9k

Genre(s)/Tag(s): Gender Neutral!Reader, Demon!Reader

Notes: thanking everyone EXTENSIVELY for helping me with this idea!

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Akaza didn’t dream. 

Not really, at least. 

It wasn’t like he needed sleep. Demons didn’t require rest to function, but when you couldn’t go out during the day, sleep became a close friend.

So when he opens his eyes in his dreamscape, he is more than a little confused. 

Especially when he spots you. You were sitting with one leg crossed over the other on a log and watching him with eyes that, frankly, made him a bit nervous. They were yellow, a luminescent golden iris surrounded by an inky black sclera. The color was accentuated by what you were wearing—a pristine, white, knee-length, toga-like outfit. 

Something ancient from a bygone age. 

Long forgotten.

Just who were you?

Out of the blue, you said a name. 

Your name? 

He sat up (When had he been lying down? He never laid down. He always slept with his back against a wall.), taking in his surroundings. He was in a forest with massive pine trees surrounding him on all sides, with a small creek burbling and splitting the ground between you two. 

“Who are you?” He asks, and you simply smile at him, showing off pointed teeth that are too straight. Too white. Too unnatural.

“I already told you, silly.” You reply in jest, and he scowls. 

He already wants you to leave. 

You pout and stand, adjusting the hem of your toga and then your sandals before hopping down off the log.

“Fine then.” You huff and make to walk away into the woods when Akaza realizes something. 

“Are you reading my mind?” He asks, and you stop, looking over your shoulder to watch him with those glowing yellow eyes. 

“And if I am?” You ask, and he clenches his fists.

“Stop it.” Is all he says. 

At that, you shrug and go to take another step.

“Oh well. I was looking forward to a lovely conversation with the infamous Upper-Rank Three. But I suppose I can go talk to Upper Two. He’s usually asleep about this time.” You muse, and Akaza feels a jolt of rage shoot through him. 

Douma? 

“Why would you talk to that scum?” He snarls, and you turn around, eyebrow raised, and head cocked to the side. 

“Because I am looking for conversation. But you seem to have the conversation skills of a toddler. Telling me to “stop it” like a three-year-old.” You reply, tone teasing but surprisingly not upset. You sounded delighted that he was even talking to you.

Why?

But your comment has him gritting his teeth. 

Something about you irritates him. 

But… against his better judgment… he sits down on a rock when you gesture for him to do so. You sit back on the log, crossing one leg delicately over the other, and study him as if you were a bird studying prey. 

He hated feeling like this—like he was in the presence of someone more powerful than he. 

“So? What do you want?” He asks, crossing his arms over his chest. Your eyes narrow briefly, and then you roll them,

“To make a friend? See what it’s like being one of Kibustuji Muzan’s subjects? All of the above?” You say, and he freezes at the name of his master. 

Surely, you were a demon like him. 

How were you able to say his name so freely?

He waits for the screaming. 

The tearing apart of your body. 

The blood. 

Everything that comes with saying his name. 

But no such thing happens. 

You watch him with a curious sort of expression, and then a thought occurs to you. 

“You think I’m one of his?” You gape, and when he nods silently, you begin to laugh. 

And laugh.

And laugh.

It’s the type of laugh that shakes your whole body. The kind of laugh that makes it hard to breathe. A whole-body experience that goes on seemingly forever. You gasp and wheeze as you hunch over to wrap your arms around your stomach. Somewhere in the back of Akaza’s mind, he’s worried about you falling off the log and indecently exposing yourself. 

Eventually, you get your snickering under control, wiping tears from your eyes as you stifle more giggles. 

“That is simply a preposterous thought! To think I’d be lumped in with the same league as Muzan?! Ha! I’m much more powerful than he is!” You sneer, and Akaza has to stop himself from staring in astonishment. 

More powerful than his master? 

Was such a thing possible?

You seemingly read his mind (yet again) and answer before he has the chance to articulate his thoughts. 

“There are other ways to become a demon, you know. I’m living proof of that. Much more efficient, too. I can go out in the sunlight and everything!” You say, and Akaza is reeling.

Another way to become a demon? 

Just how—

“You just have to make a deal with me.” You interrupt his thoughts with that grin that makes him uneasy. Something about you seems off… Something he can’t quite place. But… he asks something on his mind.

“What sort of deal?” At that, your grin widens almost impossibly so, and you extend a hand. 

“You’ll just have to wait and see, won’t you?” You say, and against his better judgment, Akaza takes your hand in his and shakes it. 

Only to watch your eyes darken until the inky blackness swallows him whole. 

“Perfect.” 

[skzhocomments]

Hello can i request one where the reader and Taemin casually meet eachother in Paris, and they have flashbacks because the city was their last trip together before breakup? Thanks:)))

Hello! TYSM for submitting a request. I know it took some time, but I got to writing it, and I hope you will enjoy it!

Rencontre moi à Paris (Lee Taemin)

Pairing: Lee Taemin (of SHINee) x Reader / OC (story is written in first person and no name is mentioned)

Genre: angst, romance, mature

Word Count: ~3.8k

Warnings: mature, swearing, angst, explicit sexual content.

This is just a story that doesn’t describe Taemin's true character in any way. It’s just a product of my imagination and should be treated as such.

This story is also on Wattpad (click here) and AO3 (click here)

A/N: As any other writer out there, I would appreciate reblogs and your comments on this story. Please let me know if you enjoyed it, and most importantly, have fun!

Summary: basically the request

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Mature content ahead.

18+

©storminsidemycore All Rights Reserved

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Rencontre moi à Paris (Lee Taemin)

Paris.

Bustling cafés, crowded streets, and people rushing either to their jobs, or to the newest art gallery with temporary exhibitions opened in town.

The rampant palaces, domes and monuments built in a Gothic style contrast the tall buildings with intricate sculpted designs, making the city the perfect mix between modern and traditional, between functional and pleasant to look at.

It's already been 5 years since I've last been here, and walking through these busy streets again feels simply surreal. Many memories I tried to forget about are resurfacing, and even though I enjoy seeing this city again, my mind wanders off to that time, and it feels bittersweet.

I breathe in the November air and continue walking, the familiar unfamiliarity somewhat comforting, and after 20 minutes of going through narrow passages in-between boulevards, I finally reach my destination, and I'm glad to see it's still here, opened, despite the unappealing area that's surely deprived of tourists to keep it alive.

Rencontre moi à Paris – or 'Meet me in Paris', a café I accidentally stumbled upon last time I came here after getting lost with my then-boyfriend.

The weather that time was similar as it is now, and I, too, am similar, even if it's been 5 years since then. The only difference is that now I have an umbrella, whereas then we stumbled upon this café soaked wet and dripping from the merciless rain outside, both of us unequipped and powerless against the black November clouds. That was nothing new, though, as we almost always ventured into things unprepared, head-first as if we were invincible, and our relationship was no different.

Maybe that's why it all went down in flames, leaving me this acidic feeling in my stomach.

It's funny, really. I haven't thought about him in years, but being here, all of the sudden I'm the same 25-year old girl with hopes and dreams, madly in love with him, and heartbroken by his absence, to the point of no return. This truly makes me realise that I never got over him, and I probably never will. It's just that the gaps between thinking about him got longer, they became years instead of seconds, and I somehow turned 30 and haven't seen or spoken to him in 5 years.

After standing like an idiot in front of the café in the pouring rain, I realise that it's best to walk in. The smell of freshly roasted coffee beans immediately invades my nostrils, and I smile to myself noticing the décor is still the same, with vintage round metal tables and matching slightly rusted chairs in front of the large arched windows viewing the street.

I head to the table I once shared with him, displeased to notice a half drunk coffee cup with steam still coming out of it, and a discarded coat on the back of the chair.

Tsk. I utter to myself and sit down at the next table, my back turned to that space filled with good memories and laughter.

I lazily grab the menu and skim through it, pondering between a hot tea and a coffee. On one hand, I'm feeling pretty tired and could use the caffeine, but on the other, bad weather is most enjoyable with a cup of warm tea, so I settle for some green tea, the perfect mix.

Looking outside absent-mindedly, I follow the raindrops fallen on the large glass windows. There is no sign of anyone brave enough to set out in this weather. I don't hear the person behind me returning to their seat, and I get startled when they tap me two times on the shoulder.

I turn around, and my eyes can't believe what I'm seeing. I must've gone as white as a ghost, because he starts chuckling immediately, his warm smile sending alarm bells to my poor heart, that started beating faster.

There he is, dressed in black trousers and a black fitted turtleneck, with his brown hair and perfect pearly whites, looking at me with surprise in his eyes.

"It's really you! How weird to meet you here!" He exclaims with a soft chuckle, and I stand up, shocked.

"Taemin...?" His name plays on my lips, burning my tongue. I haven't said it out loud in years. In fact, I avoided it like the plague, afraid of what saying it would make me think about, but now that I said it, it felt like it was the most natural word that ever came out of my mouth, like my lips missed it, and they wanted me to shout it out all this time I've stayed silent.

All of a sudden, his arms encircle my body and he pulls me in for a hug, and my body reacts unconsciously, grabbing onto his waist and holding tightly, not wanting to let go.

However, we let go, as we can't possibly stay embraced in the middle of a café. I'm not sure he wanted to, anyway.

"What are you doing here?" I ask him, feeling my eyes swell up with tears that I try to swallow back. He looks like he's moved on, and his life looks amazing, and everything is fine, but I... don't really want him to know about mine. I tried so hard to stay away from him, but now...

"I should be asking you the same thing." He chuckles. "Would you join me for a cup of coffee? Or a warm tea, since I know it's your favourite drink when it rains."

I smile, remembering how attentive he's always been about my likes and dislikes. Even when we accidentally found this café 5 years ago, we got caught up in the rain because I mentioned in passing that I'd love to see an unknown painter's works and he found an exhibition in some obscure museum with 15 reviews on Maps. With his bad sense of direction and both our phones discharged, we unsurprisingly got lost, and ended up finding this place to take shelter in from the rain.

I nod and sit down at his table, in my exact same spot from the past, just as the waitress brings me my green tea, her eyes scanning the familiarity between me and the man in front of me.

"Being here, I kept thinking about us. What have you been up to?" He asks me with curiosity, slightly leaning in, as if he would hear me better. He always used to do that in the past, which I loved. It felt like being listened to, being heard.

"Oh, you know... just the usual. Work, chill in bed with Kkoong, meeting up with friends. Nothing much, and certainly not as interesting as what you've been doing." I smile, pointing at his successful career.

"Mhm. Even if my work took off, I truly am the same simple guy I was when we used to-" He abruptly stops and scans my face, before changing the subject. "Anyway, is Kkoong good? Ddaeng misses you two."

"I miss you- I mean, I miss Ddaeng as well." I correct quickly, mentally slapping myself for letting my heart take the lead.

Of course I missed him. So many years have passed, and I am still stuck in a state of inertia. Being with him here again, at this same café, feels like we are still the same clueless 25-year-olds, visiting Paris for the first time, full of hopes and dreams that would only end up crashing and burning in front of our eyes as the weight of the world got too much for us to bear, and love doesn't conquer all.

Taemin doesn't seem to mind my little slip-up. He knows how I've always worn my heart on my sleeve. After all, we've been together for many years, before ultimately breaking up. He knows me the best, and I know him like the back of my hand, still.

"The name of this café is pretty ironic." He says, and I raise an eyebrow.

"Ironic? How so?"

"I mean, Meet me in Paris? Isn't it funny that I've searched for you everywhere in Seoul, but I ended up finding you here, in a café lost in time on the outskirts of Paris?" He looks at his coffee cup, now empty.

Perhaps as empty as the two of us.

Taemin has always been like this, expressing himself in cryptic ways, especially when it comes to feelings that don't easily lend themselves to words.

He searched for me? I wouldn't have known.

When we broke up, I decided to let go of everything I once knew, and left my life with him behind. I took Daeng and I left, I changed my number, deleted my socials, and did everything to stay out of radar, while Taemin did the exact opposite, being everywhere: on billboards, in magazines, on TV...

We were simply too different from each other. We lived in incompatible worlds.

"I also didn't expect you to be here." I smile. "Isn't a star like you too busy to waste his time in a deserted café?" I mock his fame, and he blushes. "Also, I assume the drinks are on you."

"Of course they are!" He exclaimed quickly.

"I don't know, you used to be pretty stingy with money." I shrug playfully, and his cheeks only grow redder. He gets embarrassed and avoids my gaze, before scratching his nape and starting apologetically.

"I was kind of an ass, wasn't I?"

We both laugh, and we talk about anything and everything, watching as day turns to night and noticing the exasperated gaze of our waitress.

"The poor girl wants to go home." I say after a while, noticing her sighing for the 10th time in the past 3 minutes. We've been her only clients today, and she probably hated us for spending so many hours and ordering drinks one after another.

"Would it be so inappropriate of me... to invite you back to my hotel?" Taemin asks hesitantly, and I so desperately wished I had the power to refuse him.

But I don't refuse him, because I missed him, and I want him so much still, and just for these few hours spent talking to him, I felt like breaking up with him might've been a mistake, because I was so painfully still in love with him.

He is perhaps but a guilty pleasure.

We walk out of the café at the end of the world and begin walking slowly next to each other. The rain has stopped, and even if the ground is still wet, Paris stays pretty.

The way we are quietly walking next to each other is in such a stark contrast to how we left the café 5-years ago, embraced, and in love, and loud, that it's almost funny. Maybe we've matured in the meantime, or maybe we just aren't brave enough to grab onto each other so openly in the street anymore.

Maybe we simply aren't as happy. Taemin used to smile so much more brightly, being able to light up any room he was in with his cheerfulness. I've never been that joyful, except for when we were together, because he used to bring out the best in me, until he didn't.

Actually, thinking about it, Paris was not only our last trip together, but also the last time I recall being happy next to him. We broke up not even one month after, and it felt so life-altering in that moment, that it's funny to think that it was simply a regular Wednesday morning. Caught in the moment, he said things he regretted, and I paid him back in the same coin, and it was just the last drop that filled the glass of on-going arguments and differences between our life choices.

I know that we didn't work out because we wanted different things from life, but at the end of the day, it's just water under the bridge.

We continue walking to the hotel without saying much, and I wonder how people see us. In the past, they would be looking at us and chuckling to themselves seeing two dumb idiots in love, but now, there was a palpable tension in the distance between our bodies, that wanted nothing more than to touch each other again.

Of course, his hotel is 5 stars in a good area, and his room is on the last floor. We hop on the elevator and wait and wait and wait, and it's moving so slow, it's eating at me and making me reconsider if this really is a good idea.

Last time we were together, we made out everywhere. On the street, on empty hallways, under the burning eyes of the paintings at the museum – but now?

I turn around with determination and watch how awestruck he is still looking at me, 5 years later, and I wrap my arms around his neck and let my body take the lead, remembering his. Our lips brush against each other shily, but after a few seconds, automatism kicked in.

It's way too easy to fall back into each other's arms.

We start kissing passionately, his hands holding onto my hips so tightly, it might bruise, as if he were afraid I would disappear if he didn't hold onto me, and he pins me up against one of the walls and sticks his tongue down my throat. It's so obvious that my mouth missed him, as they sync perfectly, and it feels as good as it feels bad, like we're eating popping candy each time our tongues touch.

Thankfully no one joins us in the elevator, and Taemin keeps grabbing onto me as we make our way towards his room, that's so large it's ridiculous.

We had limited financial resources back then, so our rooms when travelling were always small and cramped, but we were in love, and it didn't matter. A room this large must've felt cold, when he was here alone.

My back finds the mattress of his king size bed quickly as he undresses me hungrily, and soon enough I am naked waist-down and he is towering over me with a look of raw desire in his eyes.

He presses small pecks on my abdomen and kisses downwards slowly and sloppily, until his mouth makes contact with my thigh, and he spreads my legs apart. I let him do whatever he wants, I just revel in the feeling and let my body remember how he felt like on top of me.

When his mouth connects to my core, tongue licking stripes up and down, I roll my head back and put my hand in his hair, caressing him gently, letting him know what a good job he's doing. He's always loved praise, especially in bed. I wonder if his partners after me knew how to praise him; these small gestures and touches that make him feel appreciated.

His tongue continues working on my clit for a bit, before he moves it down, teasing my entrance, just as he knows I like it.

"You taste so good, baby." He says, letting his tongue enter me, and I moan.

"Taemin, please." I whine, impatient to feel him more.

"Please what?" He chuckles, and I playfully slap him on the head, when he looks at me, a dumb smirk playing on his lips.

"I want you so bad." I whimper, and his smirk drops. He immediately gets on top of me, pressing his body against mine, as if he were my knight and I, his Queen, and I've commanded him something.

There is no time to think anything through with the urgency he's undoing his belt, and the feeling of fullness is quick to overcome me as he slips his dick in me, thrusting mercilessly as if it's the last time we're ever going to be together.

And it might be.

The room is filled with moans and whimpers, and we hang onto each other desperately, our bodies remembering each other perfectly. Our clothes are quick to disappear completely. He slips my blouse off and clasps off my bra, his mouth instantly connecting to my nipples, and I, with the same neediness, grab on his turtleneck and help him take it off. Seeing his naked body, I involuntarily clench around him, and the way he moans sends shivers down my spine.

"I missed you so fucking much." He says, voice full of painful beauty as he kisses my collarbones and nibbling on the sweet spot between them and my neck, and I melt once again against his touch, and I know that I'm going to get my heart broken again, but once you start something and the lines start blurring, it's already too late to stop, for you get greedy and you want more.

"I missed you too." I cry out and indulge myself in his touch.

The way he caressed my body was still the most intimate someone touched me. I've had my fair share of partners before him, and many others after, and this still hasn't changed. Taemin's body and mine are made for each other, and this fact gives my heart a sharp pang.

"My love, ever since I lost you, I searched for you in every woman I've been with. I am no longer creative, and I so desperately want it all back, the way it was. I want us back." He confesses while he's thrusting in me.

But what point is there in wanting? I think, but it's so hard to stay focused, with his dick grazing against my sweet spot over and over, when I'm almost seeing stars.

My toes become a curling mess and I wrap around him, and oh, how well he knows me, for he realises I'm so close, and knows exactly how to move his hips right, and I reach my high and hold him so tight, our shadows become one, completely indistinguishable. It's so good that I start getting ashamed of the loud sounds I'm making. Taemin, however, doesn't seem to mind, it even seems to send him over the edge, because his thrusts become sloppy, and his eyes are closed tightly; he looks focused, faint lines on his forehead giving him away.

I am moaning his name, and he is moaning mine, and dancing the Devil's tango has never felt so right, but in the end, if what we're doing is a sin, then we should just be sinners.

He presses his plum lips on mine, muffling both our moans, and he comes inside me, cupping my face with his hands.

"My muse, please don't leave me again... I promise you I won't make the same mistakes..." He kisses me hard, and if until now I was able to control my tears, they are now breaking my wall of strength, and he wipes them off my cheeks with his thumbs and kisses them away.

"Taemin... empty promises will wear..." I say, and he shakes his head.

"Please... don't leave me again... I've just found you..." He insists, sounding so needy, I melt. But how can I go back to how we were in the past? What if what he's feeling for me is not love, but limerence?

I no longer want to make any mistakes. We were so wrong for each other; what guarantee is there that this time we'll get it right?

At the end of the day, we are still different people, living our lives in different ways, so...

He guides me to the bathroom and we wash each other, just as we used to do. Five years ago, when we came here, we had such a small bathroom, we barely had space to shower at the same time. This bathroom now, however, is so much bigger, it's almost uncomfortable.

There's too much space between us we simply can't fill.

We then head to bed and fall asleep embraced, but as I always used to, I wake up way too early, and being tangled up in his sheets like this makes me think that maybe giving us another chance wouldn't be so bad. However, even if we share the same bed, we still have different dreams, and that's not something that can get changed easily. If it were, we would've never broken up in the first place.

I get up, careful not to wake him up, and get dressed slowly, thinking thinking thinking thinking.

I could get out and make sure he'll never see me again.

But... is that what I really want?

~

~one year later~

Paris is still the same bustling city I remembered it to be, but my safe corner is as quiet as usual.

Rencontre moi à Paris still smells of coffee beans, the chairs are still rusted, and not much has changed in a year, except for the wallpaper on the wall that's slightly ripped around the corners.

I slowly head to my table, occupied by a brunette man in a black fitted turtleneck, who sits with his back turned.

I don't say anything, I simply walk over and sit right in front of him, in my empty chair, and he raises his gaze from the cup, his eyes glimmering in the soft lights.

"Taemin." I smile. "You really came."

"You're fucking crazy." He shakes his head in disapproval. "Who leaves like that?"

"Like what?" I chuckle and play dumb.

"Like what?" He imitates me, and I stick out my tongue at him. "Normal people leave their phone numbers at least, but you?! You fucking- who the hell leaves a note like this?!" He angrily takes out a napkin carefully folded and throws it on the table in front of me.

Rencontre moi à Paris, 18 November, 15:00. Is what is written in pen in my handwriting.

Seeing it, I chuckle.

"You kept it!"

"What if I wouldn't have been able to change my schedule and come here?" He scolds me, but I just shrug.

"That would've meant nothing's changed, and that I made the right choice to not give you my number last year."

"I told you, didn't I? I won't make the same mistakes again. I really want to make us work."

"Then... shall we go back to your hotel? I really missed you. Besides, we don't want the waitress to stare daggers at us again, do we?" I whisper with a slight laugh and stand up, giving him my hand, and he takes it quickly and kisses it tenderly.

"I missed you too, my love. Please never disappear on me again..."

I smile and nod, and we get out of the café hand in hand. His thumb slowly brushes against the back of my hand, and I smile, because I truly missed him, and I was glad he actually listened to the stupid note I left on the napkin and came here.

Perhaps we won't fuck it up this time around, and we will finally be happy together, for we are already in madly love, and time apart hasn't changed that.

After all, two negative signs added together make a positive, right?

~The End~

[decepti-thots]

I was in the tumblr tf fandom for a hot second a few years ago and i just wanted to ask, is it still really aggressive here? because back then there was a lot of shipping drama, there were a few callout posts going around (can't really remember about what) and just...a lot of bad stuff. I personally had someone tell me to kill myself because I liked one of the villains. guess I'm just wondering if, in your opinion, things have chilled out? Cuz I'd like to get back into it but I'm a little hesitant;;;

I'm going to try and give the fullest answer I can in the best faith to this! For context, this blog is a couple years old now, I have enough followers that I get a lot of active engagement on my posts etc, I am very active in TF fandom here, Twitter, and IRL, and while I did not used to be active I have been lurking in TF fandom as long as I have been on Tumblr.

There is absolutely still some toxicity; all fandoms have their bad faith actors, their drama hounds, their shipping Diskhorsers TM. I have gotten hate mail, I know folks who have issue with weird anon haters who are persistent, whatever. But no, it is not as bad as it has been in the past, IMO, not at ALL, and it is 100% possible to have an active, sociable and nice time in this fandom so long as you curate your engagement, with basically no drama at all. Many of the worst folks burned out and left when the fandom got less active and their shitstirring paid lesser and lesser dividends, IME.

People sometimes ask how I maintain such a vocal presence without falling into the still-there drama, and I have some advice that I promise you will mitigate like, 99% of the possible issues you could encounter:

Block whenever you feel like blocking. If you get a bad vibe, if you just don't personally like someone and don't wanna see them, if you see them throwing what looks like a temper tantrum you don't want in on, just block 'em. Remember: blocking is nothing personal towards the person you are blocking. It is not insulting and doesn't need to be 'earned'. Block every single person you think not blocking might even just theoretically cause stress or drama. (I am blocked by several people for reasons no more serious than 'I hate your OTP', and I commend every one of them for doing it and having a better time on this site!)

Delete any and all anon hate. Block anyone and everyone who sends you hate. No exceptions. No witty comebacks. No takedowns. Nothing. You see it and the actual literal second you do, you block and delete. None of it is worth one second of your time. Deprived of the oxygen, they will leave. And you won't be tempted to re-read it and stress out.

In that same vein, if it causes issues, just turn anon off! Turn it off. Personally I keep it on because I simply do not care about the odd troll, but if you care even slightly? Fuck 'em, turn it off, anon is a privilege your followers need to earn by acting in good faith.

Find people you like and follow them, ignore blatant shitstirring in the maintags (again: block people!) and try to curate content and follows and mutuals based on what you do like and not what you don't. Curate positive engagement; do not rely on the general fandom slurry, find what you like and hang out in your own corner of things that bring you joy. If the maintag stresses you out: don't check it. Check the blogs of folks you know are cool instead. Stuff like that.

Fandom should be fun. Fandom should be finding people you like and sharing good times with them, not stressing about avoiding folks you hate, or who hate you. Tumblr lets you moderate how you engage, when, and where more than almost any current social media site; now you can even turn off reblogs and oh my GOD is that a lifesaver function btw. If you want, you can make your blog unsearchable! It means you will need to be more proactive in making friends. But TF fandom is pretty tight knit these days, and folks want to talk a lot of the time. You'll still be able to engage with cool people.

There's way less aggro losers around these days, but more to the point, you can absolutely avoid the ones that still insist on being annoying and starve them out without much effort, tbh.

[virtueisdead]

tumblr is the only corporate social im willing to use at this point, purely because of how vastly different it is from its contemporaries, structurally and culturally, but they're very clearly doing something that is quickly turning me away. for lack of less sensitive term, staff is practically gentrifying the platform. (forcing shit from other socials that tumblrs lack of were the only reason i still used it)

given i use spacehey daily, im sure youre already aware that im not a big fan of the contemporary concept of the "social media". i wont go on my whole pedantic/esoteric rant about distinguishing the definition of a social media and a social network because thats a whole other essay for another time and its not worth the argument given im already trying to discuss something else at the moment. (ive literally written a research paper about this because i seriously am that obnoxious about the subject)

so; one of the most substantial changes that happened to social websites in general over the past 2 decades was the introduction of algorithmic feeds. for those unaware, tumblr is in fact the very last major social platform that still doesnt operate (primarily) off of algorithmic content, and this is direly important to the continued use it receives from older bloggers. the majority of people who regularly use tumblr today and have for years are still here because it is the last bastion of chronological dashboards. this also plays a huge role in why theres such a dramatically different atmosphere on tumblr compared to other platforms.

reblogs are literally the only way that things can "go viral". posts do not ever spread if people dont actively decide "i want to share this with my friends" and hit the reblog button, as well if their friends dont think the same. whats especially important is that this system is entirely end-viewer-oriented; it does not particularly favor reactionary content like an algorithm does. on a platform like twitter, any kind of engagement at all (replies, likes, qrts, etc) will be taken by the algorithm as an indication that the post is likely to resonate with people in some way, regardless of whether the post in question is receiving positive or negative engagement, and regardless of whether or not it is thoughtful or warrants that- not to mention how this problem is even further exacerbated by the character limits on microblogging social media platforms like twitter.

so people love tumblr for the fact that posts that you wouldnt share with your friends simply will not garner any popularity most of the time. this fosters a far more unique and interesting community and types of viral content, but youll notice that a little while ago, tumblr quietly added the "for you" page. realistically, nobody who actually has used tumblr since before that tab was added would ever even touch it because it is a spit in the face of what makes people love the platform. but they they knew most people dont vocally give a shit like i do.

the first problem arises when you consider that new users from places like tiktok and twitter will naturally assume the tab was always there and likely use it as their primary means of discovery. they wont learn or understand the way that the proper system tumblr uses of follows and reblogs actually works, which is steadily creating an enormous and frankly insurmountable divide between new and old users of the platform. its already fostering the kinds of passive interaction from people who dont understand tumblr's mechanics that is honestly genuinely harmful to the community overall. people misusing the tools that the platform has due to not understanding their function or assuming similarity to things they already know from other platforms. honestly, this in itself would not even be that much of an issue because we could simply ignore the new users who refuse to make the effort to understand how to use the app and fall for the advertising trap that is the for you page...

but the problem is getting way bigger as tumblr is slowly but surely pushing the "for you" page onto other dashboards. youll see posts with a little "based on your likes" banner at the top crop up more and more. theyre quite literally trying to subtly force an algorithm into place where there wasnt one before. (ive been made aware you actually can turn this off from within an entirely seperate settings menu from the regular one that you open on the notifications screen for some reason?? the fact that i didnt even know this after using tumblr for this long is wild, but it doesnt invalidate my argument in that they turned it on automatically without asking or telling users) its not egregious enough to make me leave yet but its definitely been happening more and more frequently to the point that i am seriously doubting if i should consider continuing to use the website/app. this is the biggest structural issue, but its not the only example of what im talking about where tumblr is trying to pretend to be like other contemporary social medias in order to lure in new users without teaching them how things work so that they can use them as advertising guinea pigs.

another example would be the abrupt and frankly pointless introduction of tumblr live, which is entirely unnecessary and has received near unanimous criticism from older users. but a bigger one is something that a lot of people, especially newer users, mobile only users, or those straight other platforms have probably not even noticed- the completely silent removal of subdomain urls. (which is why people here call usernames urls in the first place) this one is way more apparent of an issue as far as my questionable use of the term 'gentrification' goes.

if i asked you the question "what is tumblr?" what would you say? more than likely, you would answer that its a social media- and to be clear, you would certainly not be incorrect in that assessment, but thats not the important part. as far as i can see, thats the first thing that comes to mind when they think of what tumblr "is" in its contemporary state. but if i asked somebody that a decade ago, they would likely give a completely different answer; they would say its a "blogging site". that's because fundamentally, that's what tumblr actually is and is supposed to be. a social blogging host platform. the dashboard and tumblr.com screen was always only half of it as far as the functionality went.

everyone used to have a personal website for their blogs, and people would often hook their tumblr blog up with its own custom domain as well. tumblr was first and foremost simply a blogging platform with social elements. while that subdomain (personal website) functionality does still exist, and you can see it on my blog because i customized my blog's css themes, they actually completely silently added a switch that gets rid of it, and they automatically turned it off for anyone that hadnt fully configured that page already which slowly consolidates everybody towards the exact same uniform tumblr-blog style like what you see on the mobile site. it forces a uniform visual aesthetic and functionality, which is one of the things i hate the most. in the first place, the enormous number of people who hadnt set up their page properly is largely because tumblr has for a few years now actively discouraged, hidden, or obfuscated the 'personal website' aspect of the service for whatever reason they may have using a method ill get into in a moment. it may be because they thought it was too convoluted for newer internet users who dont understand, or it may have been a more calculated effort to abandon older infrastructure and replace it with replicas of more contemporary systems like are used in other social medias, but it doesnt make a difference to me.

blogging is all about self-expression, and restricting that defeats the point so fucking hard. on the mobile app, my page will look something like this.

though this screenshot is taken on desktop. the url here is "https://www.tumblr.com/virtueisdead". this is an entirely separate and pretty recently added functionality called the profile view, which is entirely different from how the website used to operate, which is demonstrated for clearly by the fact that this is not what my blog is actually supposed to look like. in fact, you cant even see what blogs are supposed to look like on the mobile app at all. if you open your browser and go to my actual blog url, "https://virtueisdead.tumblr.com/", you can see the intended design, which is very similar to my spacehey profile.

im honestly not unconvinced that they intend to eventually completely distinguish the old blogging system (akin to wordpress and blogger) from the social media aspect of the site entirely, though thats more of a crack theory. the fact remains that they began to silently get rid of people's actual blog pages, slowly forcing uniformity with the mobile app. (this is less important, but another part of that that drives me up the fucking wall is that i cant even use the tumblr website in my main browser anymore. they made it so it only works in certain browsers, and im sure i dont need to explain why that is absolutely insufferable behavior)

tumblr is absolutely trying to mimic other social media platforms like tiktok and twitter in order to attract users from them or give them a more 'familiar experience' and its absolutely a detriment to the experience for people who use tumblr specifically because it isnt like other corporate social platforms. this is a separate gripe, but...

ive said before and will say again, twitter users should not look for an alternative to twitter, they should just stop fucking using it. thats like going from smoking a cigarette brand that uses slave labor to one that doesnt. youre a more ethical person but youre still giving yourself lung cancer.

[dumbdomb]

Hi, by using numbers and symbols to alter keywords in your content it makes it impossible for people to use important tools. Importantly it makes it impossible to screen out content by keywords or tags that might otherwise be pushed to a person's feed.

It also makes it impossible to use a screen reader. A dni list says r@pe will read as "are at p-e" not "rape" for example.

I know this, and I'm sincerely very sorry. I understand how this site works, but many other people do not. I've received messages about this before, which I just reblogged before answering this one.

I try to add captions on my images, and type appropriately in my original posts. I use legible tags whenever possible, unless a censored version is being used temporarily because that tag got wiped.

I think more people need to learn how to use tags here, and turn off any settings that show posts based on likes, etc. I think many people rely on search results, that now use keywords in post and tags, instead of actual tag results.

I'm just trying to exist here, and lots of people keep telling me how I should write my boundaries. It doesn't seem to matter to anyone that other people are choosing to ignore those, previously legible, boundaries and instead focus on telling me what to do and how to prevent being harassed.

Whether I write my boundaries clearly and simply, or use inaccessible and censored versions, many people still do not observe or honour my boundaries. I am truly at a loss, because either way is somehow incorrect. The best I can do at this time is add a line for people to send a message to me if they want to read that section uncensored. Hopefully, from reading the previous messages I've received, this will make more sense.

If I add the uncensored, legible part here or in my pinned, more people will tell me that it is attracting those users to my blog. I've been told my blog was one of the "top recommended" for having an uncensored word listed in my "do not interact" section! You may have good intentions, and certainly an important point about accessibility in text posts, but you are acting as another person telling me exactly how to write things.

I need a real, functional solution. That, or people should spend more time posting PSAs and messages like this to those who do not respect boundaries, instead of trying to pull my strings like a puppet. "Use this word! No, not that one! Write it like this! No, spell it wrong. It doesn't matter what you write because I'm going to harass you anyway! Just don't exist!"

You understand? It's difficult when it needn't be. And, I recently updated my pinned post YESTERDAY to be more streamlined, and easier to read... 😞

[b-blushes]

the whole 'only being able to leave the house once a week thing' is really killing me atm. if i go out more than that i'm so much sicker to a point where i'm barely functional at home and can't keep up with house stuff that i need to be doing. like. cooking and cleaning haha however if like this, like, month, i have necessary appointments (medical, dentist, haircut) every week at least once that means i'm literally just surviving at home the rest of the time, cannot see the one friend who lives close enough for me to see in-person, can't do anything fun because i literally can't think straight and i'm so physically weak/fatigued as well (along with all the other symptoms, it is simply too depressing to list every disabling one :P). even with 'only' leaving the house once a week for the last however long, i've still only been well enough to independently get to a single one of those appointments recently (which was today) and for my follow up in a couple of weeks the appointment's long/strenuous enough that i've gotta get help getting there + back. buddy i'm languishing!!!!! i want to make plans for the future but i feel like i'm living day to day whadda hell!!! where's the future for disabled people i'm gonna weep! what're we meant to doooooooo! :P SO i guess on another note, does anyone know of anyone that's sharing daily life/autobio stuff (blog, videos, art, etc) as a disabled person who's unable to work? preferably not teenagers no offence but i'm in my late twenties and am trying to look forward. not to say that young people can't do incredible things i just would like to see people like me who are getting older you know. a big part of becoming chill and then positive (most of the time) about being autistic for me was getting to know other autistic friends and learning how we can make our way through the world, it'd be really neat to see/know more disabled people who are unable to work who're building lives for themselves that they enjoy. (would love to be able to join in-person communities but unfortunately i literally cannot get there even if they exist locally. my world feels so small i don't know anyone! but it is what it is for now!)

(turning reblogs off but if you know of anyone please leave a reply or you can send me an ask (if you include 'please don't share' I'll answer privately))

[savage-rhi]

Please read this post before sending me an ask/request

Here’s a quick summary of an important thing: 

Make sure you read my blog page Da Rules. I know its lengthy, but it’s thorough. 

When you have finished reading Da Rules, message me with the key word (if you read through, you’ll know!) 

**Important: Da Rules do not pop up on mobile. Even after checking the correct coding etc. I can’t get it to work. If you’re on mobile, just read through this post and we should be good 👍🏻💯. I strongly encourage you to read Da Rules when you’re on desktop. 

Here’s a summary of content I will write: 

I will write for any characters–canon or oc

I will write most themes and prompts

I will write ships

I will write gore and violence

I will write sexual content 

Here’s a summary of content I will not write: 

Whatever I am personally not comfortable with. 

As stated, I will write for any fandoms and characters. Even ones I am not familiar with, provided I am given enough information and/or I can seek it out myself. 

Here are a list of fandoms I participate in and have written for at one point or another: 

Resident Evil 

Death Stranding

Final Fantasy (XV, VII, VIII, X, X-2 & additional) 

Game of Thrones 

Hades

Horizon Zero Dawn 

Yu-Gi-Oh 

Cowboy Bebop 

Outlaw Star 

Supernatural 

Important tabs on my blog page:

Da Rules--(insert snape voice here) obviously 

Prompts--If you are not sure what to send in, or need writing inspiration go here. I archive many writing prompts and ideas here. 

Drabbles--I tag all requested work with #drabbles. If you want to comb through and find old works I’ve done check here. 

3 important things you should take away from Da Rules page: (if you decide to skip over..cause let’s face it, I think we’ve all done that before. We’re human.) 

If you are younger than 18+, I recommend you don’t interact with this blog as I am open to prompts that may be offensive, sexual and or disturbing to some individuals. I may also reblog offensive, sexual, and or disturbing content. I am not responsible for your consumption. Please be aware and enter at your own risk.

If the anon function is abused, I will turn it off until further notice. This sucks for folks who are shy, don't want to comment on posts, or don't feel comfortable with me/the public. Please be mindful.

I believe we curate our own individual experiences in our little corners of the internet. That unless we are directly hurting somebody, everyone should be allowed to cater to whatever passions they have on their blogs. If there is something I post that offends, makes you uncomfortable etc. simply unfollow or block me. 

Most of the time I will happily:

Answer personal questions.

Offer emotional support, encouragement and validation to people who need a place to vent or share--within reason (please do not use me as a therapy resource. I am in the mental health field and even I need space from it. I can provide you peer delivered resources, but that’s it). 

Share my personal opinion on something you want an opinion on. 

If you’re a writer, offer feedback and would be more than happy to read your work. Link me your AO3 or other projects!

Thanks for reading! If you cross the boundaries I've listed here, I will probably ignore you. If you do it repeatedly, I will block you.

[pizza-is-my-buziness]

I see one little gif set of 1666 and suddenly I am too overwhelmed with emotions to function.

Also I gave myself this prompt from the list I reblogged earlier: "sweaters and mittens" (but only mittens) and "gift"

It had pleased her mother to no end to see her daughter spending the past several nights seated in front of the fire, diligently working on her knitting and providing absolutely no reason for a scowl to cross Grace Miller’s face.

Hannah assumes her mother would be less pleased to know that she had been doing all that knitting on behalf of Sarah Fier. 

But the possibility of risking her mother’s ire is worth it, in exchange for the chance to go see Sarah for a reason other than one created solely off the top of her head to give her an excuse to darken the Fiers’ doorstep. December is still in its infancy, but the cold has long since pervaded all of Union and that particular afternoon smells of snow, so what better time to make her way across the settlement, basket dangling from the crook of her elbow, chill creeping through her petticoats and into her bones. 

Despite the cold and the rapidly freezing ground, there are still plenty of people about, attempting to chop wood before nightfall or dig up whatever root vegetables might still be salvageable. Only Isaac bothers to acknowledge her as she passes, pausing from plucking a freshly dead chicken to give her a nod and a smile. Hannah barely remembers to return the gesture, her thoughts already straying ahead of her, toward the house on the outskirts of the settlement, toward the curl of smoke she can already see emanating from the chimney. 

The yard is devoid of both person and beast when Hannah approaches and she can only imagine that the Fiers have more sense than she does, attempting to avoid being out in an afternoon that is only growing colder by the moment. Still, when Hannah casts about for any feeling of regret, it simply does not exist, especially not when the door swings open in response to her knocking and she finds herself facing Sarah herself. 

There is no mistaking the way Sarah’s face brightens when she sets eyes on her visitor, no hiding the grin that immediately turns up her lips. Hannah has seen more than a few forced smiles of Sarah Fier’s and this is certainly not one of them. The warmth of being on the receiving end of Sarah’s crinkling eyes and toothy smile spreads all the way to the soles of her boots, chasing away the bite of cold that has been freezing her solid throughout her walk. Hannah is certain that she could feel no warmer if she had tucked herself carefully beside the fire.

“Hannah. This is certainly a surprise.” Sarah steps back, opening the door wider in a clear invitation.

Hannah is all too happy to enter, and not just because it would allow for a reprieve from the cold. “A welcome one, I hope.” 

Sarah smiles as she latches the door back behind them, giving Hannah her full attention. “As if there could be any other where you are concerned.” 

The words and the ease with which Sarah says them threatens to steal the breath from Hannah’s lungs, just like they threaten to flood her with so much warmth that she might be tempted to shed a layer or two. More than a tiny part of her is tempted to step closer to Sarah, to reach for her hand, to let Sarah’s fingers warm her own. Or, better yet, to allow all of Sarah to envelop her, to warm her skin the way that Sarah’s smile has warmed her heart. 

Instead, Hannah forces herself to look away, to fidget with the basket instead. “I brought you something.” 

“Hannah! You didn’t need to-” 

“Well, I’m still learning,” Hannah cautions, interrupting Sarah’s enthusiasm before she can get too carried away. “So keep that in mind when you see what it is. Consider it…practice.” 

Sarah smiles, though her eyes are still settled on Hannah’s face, rather than the basket and impending gift. “So I’m expected to take your castoffs?” She teases. 

“Something like that.” Hannah grins, pulling the mittens she’d been so carefully knitting for the past several days from the basket and holding them toward Sarah. “It’s nothing, really. But I…” 

She trails off suddenly, feeling a prickle of embarrassment, a rush of heat that she hadn’t anticipated when she’d spent those evenings in front of the fire, when it seemingly hadn’t occurred to her that she would actually have to look Sarah in the eyes while she presented her with the gift. And now it seems ridiculous, the idea that she could just hand them over and not have to account for why she’d made them in the first place.

“Made these for me,” Sarah finishes, a touch of wonder to her voice that Hannah is not entirely sure that she deserves, especially not for a pair of lopsided mittens with a dropped stitch or two. Sarah takes them, brushing her fingers along the yarn. “Hannah, I-” 

Hannah shakes her head, shrugging, unable to keep from tightening her grip on the handle of the basket. “It was just a first attempt,” she reminds Sarah quickly. “I know they’re hardly as beautiful as-” 

“No,” Sarah says quickly, curling her fingers around them protectively. “No. They’re perfect. Thank you.” 

And it sounds like she truly means the words, that the soft expression of delight on her face is sincere and not just polite. That sincerity does little to cool the sudden heat in Hannah’s blood or slow the way her heart is galloping in her chest. 

If anything, it only serves to make her heart beat faster. 

“Thank you,” Sarah says again, letting her gaze return to Hannah’s face. “But…why…” 

There are easy ways to answer this, ways that don’t leave Hannah feeling flushed and uncertain, unsteady and nervous. Another lie about how she was simply practicing and needed someone to pass the attempt onto. 

Instead, what Hannah says is, “You mentioned before that you didn’t have a pair, that they’d grown too frayed and worn and…it’s getting so much colder now so I thought they might…” She swallows, uncertain as to why there’s something about being around Sarah Fier that makes conversation so much more difficult than usual. “I thought they might be useful.” 

Sarah is still holding the mittens tightly in her fingers, as though she worries Hannah might change her mind and take them back. Now she uncurls her fists, instead pulling the mittens on and beaming and seeing Sarah wearing the mittens, wearing these things that Hannah had created out of nothing just for her only makes Hannah feel all the more unsteady.

“See?” Sarah holds her hands up as proof. “They really are perfect.” 

Hannah swallows and manages to unstick the words from her throat. “I’m glad they fit.” 

“I will certainly be glad to have them tomorrow when I have to go out to feed the pigs.” Sarah hesitates, her smile faltering somewhat. “I would try to return the favor but I’m not entirely sure that I could create anything even resembling a glove or-” 

“Oh, no, that’s not…” Hannah quickly shakes her head. “It’s a gift.” 

Sarah studies her for a moment and Hannah dreads what might come next, dreads that Sarah might ask exactly why Hannah is bothering to make gifts for her. Because she’s certain if Sarah asks her, she’s not going to be able to come up with a lie, that it’ll be the truth that comes out.

How she already spends most of her evenings thinking about Sarah Fier, so what better way to use that focus?

How she had hoped that Sarah would look at her the way she is now, that she would smile like that when she’d received the gift.

How she wanted to be the one to make Sarah smile like that.

How the idea of Sarah putting on the mittens and thinking of her makes her feel a little bit dizzy and out a breath. 

Thankfully, Sarah doesn’t ask. She simply says, “Thank you. I will treasure them always.” 

Sarah reaches out to take Hannah’s hand in her mittened one and despite the fabric between them, Hannah can still feel the warmth of Sarah’s skin against her own. 

[five-thousand-loaves-of-bread]

my personal opinion on the AAC user survey by Assistive Ware (linked). personal opinion and i admit i very opinionated and very biased and very cynical and very not friendly so uh, take my opinion with grain of salt. turned off reblog for this reason. if want to reblog, can reblog original post linked.

i warned ya

"intermittently nonspeaking": i hate this term. i HATE this term. sorry to people who like it. my opinion is leave the term nonspeaking nonverbal to people who are that all the time. if you lose speech or intermittently have or don't have speech, coin another term.

also i have sneaking suspicion on why "intermittently nonspeaking" more preferred than "intermittently speaking." because align self with nonspeaking people cooler and more brownie points than speaking people. ofc this is cynical suspicion and know there are other reasons but. i suspect this reason is left unsaid because of many things.

"part time AAC user": my issue is not the term itself but who uses it. because have had people who uses AAC once in a blue moon (very infrequent), like once or month or less, use this term to speak over me. but also know part time AAC users who regularly uses AAC and they very nice. i am not the police on "you can only use this term if you use AAC x times a day/week/month because very much not my place, but wish the first group of people get some sense knocked into them.

found the different opinions between neurodivergent AAC users and non neurodivergent AAC users on term nonspeaking vs nonverbal interesting. it makes sense tho because the advocacy for switching to nonspeaking instead of nonverbal is very exclusive to (one corner of) neurodivergent spaces.

i wish they also surveryed other "not speak" terms like mute. because know people who really hate this term but also people who identify with this term.

i was suprised "talker" was not more popular. i personally don't like it but i suprised because i see it used a lot in a facebook AAC user & family group i in. maybe because in the group most people who use the term "talker" is parents of nonspeaking AAC users who are kids?

i hate the term preverbal. if your child like is 2 or even 4 and not speaking, sure preverbal may make sense. but if your child 8 or teenager or above, you're most likely using term preverbal to avoid using nonverbal nonspeaking and have internalized ableism against your child .

suprised about functionally nonspeaking. because yeah all communication valid but.. only able to gesture and speak simple words like "eat" and "want" (and have no access to AAC) won't get you as far in life as able to fully speak and that is simply fact. it's not just a matter of other people not listening. why are we avoiding this fact?

even more suprised about unreliably speaking. i wonder how many people who dislike the term actually have severe apraxia.

and also surprised at sheer amount of non neurodiverent AAC users who hate the term mouth words (81%). should have put this in original post.

[titoist]

after turning it over for god-knows-how-long, i think i've come to an a conclusion that i can't in good conscience deny. my addiction to consigning my experiences to an other have really driven me into a corner, made me run around manically in circles, chasing my own tail, fearfully examining myself, interrogating all sources of unease relentlessly - it emboldens & reinforces all of my other insecurities... but hasn't my core conduct here been a little strange? in a way that just comes off as nonsensical... ok, here's what i mean: i drove myself into a situation where... by publishing my inner thoughts to my blog, i came to judge the degree of interaction they received to the degree of validity that i was receiving. centralizing my character onto my blog, my blog naturally took the form of my character... my solution to this was to simply block my notes, to add an extra dynamic into play that would weaken the validation i received. but that's not actually getting rid of the issue, it's just... lowering its volume, in a way... but wouldn't have been more sensical to cut the issue at its root? to stop using my blog as a diary, &, ergo, disconnect my visceral identity with it. to conclude that... when my internet presence no longer functions as an extension of my brain, the need for that approval will cease - because that approval won't have anything to do with me. there have been a lot of personal consequences over this type of thing. consequences i'm not sure i can totally root out... like, for example, uh - in my desire to make myself as maximally appealing as possible, so as to court positive attention, i cultivated a specific sort of melancholic, pseudo-intellectual character for myself - one which extrapolates some of my existing features, true, it's not as if i invented a completely different person to be... but is more-or-less a slight exaggeration. in attempting to conform to this character as much as possible, i feel that parts of my own honesty were corroded, that i suffocated the personality that comes naturally to me... it's paradoxical; in maintaining what amounted to a maximally honest documentation of my most private thoughts, i inadvertently hollowed out my own sincerity. i'm scared that i did something really stupid because i don't like myself. therefore... let's try an experiment for a little bit, just you and i; this blog will cease to be act as a diary, at least... to the extent that it is now. that's right - a complete u-turn! which is not to say that i will not post my own thoughts & feelings, but that i imagine they will decidedly be of a less... viscerally personal nature. this will, i can only extrapolate, correspond to me going back to reblogging posts & making jokes, like i once used to do. it will also remove my incentive for treating interactions as a degree of personal validation. (or... this so i hypothesize, at the very least.) i will reactivate notes, & disable ublock, and all that implies(will be able to see asks, replies, etc.) as i feel that they're stopgaps which were... helpful to let me clear my head of my addiction in the short-term, but were nonetheless ultimately an unfitting prescription long-term. i suppose i'm leaving the option open for myself to go back on all these, if i come to the conclusion that it's untenable, that i've taken a wrong turn somewhere, that i need to go back to the drawing board... but i am also personally optimistic enough, personally loving of myself enough to have a sincere doubt that such will be the case - barring any actions of god that force a relapse. i guess... it feels a little absurd - like the monumental weight of the last year or so of fixed & conditioned self-contortion feels a little too monumental to simply leave off with this post, with such a brief, unceremonious explanation. but i'm also not sure what else there is to say. thanks, i love you. let's try being sincere.

[fairy-writes]

Hey! Just saw your post about sending you darker than black requests! Glad there's still some other fans out there! 😀

Could you write something with an hei x afab! Civilian! Reader? But honestly I'll take anything at this point. There's so little darker than black content these days!

TO CATCH THE HEART OF A STAR

Reblogs and Comments are greatly appreciated!!

__________________________________________________________________________

Fandom(s): Darker than Black

Pairing(s): Hei/Li Shengshun x Reader

Word Count: 3.1k

Genre(s)/Tag(s): Female!Reader, Civilian!Reader, Reader is described as shorter than Hei

Notes: I am trying so hard not to vibrate out of my seat in excitement.

I LOVE HEI OKAY

(Not as much as November 11… but Hei’s… my second choice.)

__________________________________________________________________________

Meeting Li Shengshun was a total accident, really.

You first meet him in the park in the middle of the night. The streetlights do little to illuminate the pitch-black space, so you don’t see the telescope until it’s right in front of your face. 

You yelp, stumble backward, and fall over onto your rear. Even in your haste, you make sure not to damage the undoubtedly very expensive scientific instrument. 

“Are you okay?” Comes a voice, and you swallow a scream of surprise. 

Turning around—still on the ground, mind you, you come face to face with a young man, maybe your age, with dark hair and a concerned look coloring his features. 

He’s handsome. Maybe a bit plain, but something about him has your heart fluttering. 

Abruptly, you realize he’s still staring, having extended a hand to help you up. You take it hastily,

“Uh… yeah! Yeah, I’m fine! Sorry for almost knocking over your telescope!” You quickly bite your tongue to keep from rambling. He pulls you to your feet easily, an apologetic smile on his face.

“It’s alright. I should have said something when I noticed you.” He says, and you huff out a laugh. It’s high and reedy, filled with nervousness, and you’re mentally kicking yourself. 

“I really should have been watching where I was going.” You retort almost playfully.

The conversation dies down before you brush off the seat of your work trousers and jab a thumb in the direction you were initially heading. 

“I really got to head home. Gotta feed my cat and all. It was nice meeting you…” He jolts as if not expecting you to speak. He’s speechless for a few moments before shaking your outstretched hand,

“Li Shengshun.” He says simply, and you grin, offering your own name in return. 

The two of you part ways, and you honestly don’t expect to see him again.

Until… you do.

You meet Li next at a work function. 

Some fancy-schmancy gala that you really didn’t want to go to. But hey, you were being paid to schmooze with rich folks, so you really couldn’t complain. Not when your job was on the line. 

So there you are, dressed to the nines in a smart-looking black dress and heels, nursing a glass of wine and laughing at some joke that wasn’t all that funny, when you feel a tap on your shoulder. 

And you turn to see Li Shengshun looking sheepish and uncomfortable. 

“Li? What are you doing here?” You hiss, and he offers a crooked smile. 

“Working, how about you?” He replies, and you sneak away from the group to follow the young man. 

You really hope he isn’t about to murder you or something.

No… he seems too sweet for that.

“It’s a work function. I have to be here.” You groan, and he lets out a quiet laugh. You glare and swat at him with an indignant “Don’t laugh at me!” He ducks under your sorry attempt at a hit with ease. The two of you make it to the hallway, and the noise from the gala dies down as the doors swing shut.

You lean against the wall and sigh, head thumping against it with your eyes closed. Your heels make your feet ache, and the wine makes your head spin slightly. 

Your friends had always said you were a bit of a lightweight.

“You okay?” Li asks, and you open your eyes to look at him. He has that same look of concern as when you first met. You shrug,

“I’m feeling absolutely smashing.” You say, and your words slur a bit. 

As you begin to sway, he holds you upright. And when you say you feel like you are about to throw up, he gets you to the restroom and makes sure you don’t vomit on your clothes or on the floor.

Perhaps you were more drunk than you thought. 

Hopefully, your boss doesn’t see you like this.

“Thank you, Li.” You mumble once he gets you situated in a taxi that is going to take you home. You have the window rolled down and are leaning out to say goodbye to the young man. 

But… instead of brushing you off… he offers that slightly crooked smile and shakes his head,

“It’s not a problem. Get home safe, yeah?” He says, and you nod, waving as the taxi pulls out into traffic.

“That was nice of your boyfriend.” The cabby comments, and you hide a surprised noise with a forced cough. 

“Oh, he’s not my boyfriend. He’s… just a friend.” You say, and the driver just laughs.

Could you call him a friend?

Surely, he thought of you as a nuisance. You took him away from his job and nearly broke his telescope. Undoubtedly, he thought you were annoying.

Right? 

You begin to see Li everywhere after that. 

Well… maybe not everywhere, but you see him around more often than you don’t now.

It’s a bit odd at first. But you discover later that it’s because Li lives in the area and does odd jobs at all hours. 

“So, what do you do for a living?” He asks one day as you are walking home from work. He had taken to walking with you when he gets home around the same time, seeing as you both usually got off the bus at the same stop. 

“Me? Oh… well… I’m a secretary for a businessman. Coordinate meetings and all that.” You explain sheepishly. Li takes it in stride, nodding once as he takes in the information. 

“So, do you work in like a big business?” He asks, and you shrug, 

“I guess? I mean, my boss does business with PANDORA and their resea—I wasn’t supposed to say that.” You cut yourself off once you realize you almost spilled some very important secrets to a civilian. 

And, of course, Li had to pick up on it. 

You’re discovering he’s much more perceptive than he lets on. 

He looks at you out of the corner of his eye in interest,

“PANDORA? That’s the people who research Hell’s Gate, right?” He says, and you nod grumpily. You were usually better at keeping secrets than this! But something about Li made you want to spill everything.

He seemed so… trustworthy.

“I didn’t know you had a cat!” You exclaim, startling Li from a conversation with an older man. They are sat on a bench in a park, having what seems to be a very serious conversation when you spot them. 

Li looks surprised before that same goofy smile crosses his face, and he raises a hand in a brief “hello.”

“He isn’t mine. He’s more of a stray that follows me around.” He explains as you jog over and crouch in front of the black cat with a red collar lounging in the sun. It studies you with narrowed eyes, and its tail flicks when you offer your hand, palm down and fingers extended. 

“Hey, kitty kitty.” You coo as he sniffs your fingers, and you scratch under his chin. 

Seemingly against the cat’s will, he begins to purr. 

It’s apparently against his will because his eyes shoot open—wide with surprise—as you gently move your fingers to scratch under his collar.

He is awfully emotive for a cat.

Almost like a human in a cat’s body.

Wouldn’t that be funny?

“He’s very well taken care of for a stray. What do you call him?” You comment, taking in his glossy fur and the slightest chub in his belly. Li just gives a rather noncommittal hum in response,

“I call him Mao.”

The older man stands, fishing cigarette from his coat pocket (who wears a coat in this weather?), and moves to leave.

“Oh, sorry! I didn’t see you there!” You scramble to your feet and bow in greeting. The man looks like a deer caught in the headlights but nods his head anyway.

“Nice t’ meet ya.” He says gruffly and offers a calloused hand for you to shake. You do so and introduce yourself. 

“This is my… uncle…. Huang.” Li says hesitantly as he gets up from his seat on the bench. You grin at “Huang” and wave as he leaves you two alone with Mao. 

“How’s work going?” He asks as you begin to pet Mao, who has dozed back off to sleep in the warm sunlight. You shrug at his question,

“They’re beginning tests on their next big project. Something about Saturn and a ring? I don’t really know. They don’t tell me much outside of asking to schedule more meetings with PANDORA.” You reply, and your shoulder brushes Li’s as he watches a family pass by the park. 

You really shouldn’t be telling Li any of this.

But you can’t bring yourself to care.

What they don’t know won’t hurt them, right?

You’re broken from your inner dialogue by Li abruptly standing and offering a hand.

“I’m starving. Let’s go get something to eat, yeah? My treat.” He says with that same warm smile that sends your heart into a tizzy

And then you have a revelation. 

This wouldn’t be love, would it?

Your little outing turns into two. Then four. And before you know it, you’re regularly going out on your days off.

Were these dates?

You didn't have much experience dating. The last person you dated seriously was back in your first year of high school. The star of the basketball team. And that turned out fabulous, with you discovering he had slept around with several members of the volleyball team. 

So it was safe to say you were hesitant to call these little excursions “dates” or even put a label on your relationship past “friends.” But… part of you wanted to do these things with Li. You wanted to hold hands. You wanted to go star gazing. 

You wanted to do cute couple-y things! Was that too much to ask?!

That first step in that direction was really an accident, just like your first meeting. 

The months had passed, and soon, it was Halloween. 

In an attempt to throw a “team-building exercise,” your boss had paid for employees and a plus one to attend a haunted house. It was a rather stupid idea if you had to admit, but you snagged two tickets anyway and invited Li to tag along with you.

Which, in hindsight, was not the best idea. 

He was as skittish as a rabbit and jumped at every jumpscare or scream from the people in front of or behind you. Granted, you did too, with the occasional scream escaping your lungs.

After one particular jumpscare, you realized you were holding Li’s hand. He had surprisingly strong and rough hands, calloused from a long time of handling tools and whatever else he did for work. 

When you went to let go, he surprised you by squeezing tighter. He offered an uncomfortable smile,

“Sorry, I can let go if you want—” He started, but you gripped his hand in yours, and your other one wrapped around his arm,

“It’s fine!” You sputter, and the two of you finally make it out of the haunted house with one last shriek on your part. 

He doesn’t let go of your hand the entire time you walk home. 

After the haunted house, you find yourself toeing the line of “more than friends” more and more. And you noticed that Li didn’t seem to mind whatsoever.

He walked you home from work. He held your hand. He even showed up to your work at one point on Valentine’s Day with flowers. (your coworkers still have yet to let you forget that fact.)

You would’ve returned the gesture on White Day but realized you still didn’t know where Li worked. So you walked the thirty minutes to his apartment and gave him a bouquet of flowers.

It was the only time you ever saw him blush. From his neck to the tips of his ears.

Li invited you inside his apartment and cooked you dinner despite your attempts at politely declining. He promptly shut you up with a kiss on the cheek. Your brain stalled, and by the time you comprehended what he had done, he had already pulled away with a smug smile on his face.

“Cute.” Was all he said.

Now, it was your turn to be embarrassed.

You sputtered and gaped while he gently ushered you to sit against the wall while he finished making supper. You were still in shock even as he handed you a plate with a delicious meal that you eagerly dug into. 

It was perfect, as always.

Things progressed even more after dinner.

Li had protested, but you had wormed your way under his arm and took over cleaning all the dishes from the meal prep and supper itself. You nudged him out of the way with your foot and elbow and even threatened to smear soap on his face.

He had simply rolled his eyes goodnaturedly,

“I’d like to see you try.” He said.

So you did.

It only ended up with him caging you against the sink with your hands pinned to the counter and Li looming over you. You blinked in surprise and looked up at the young man. He had a look in his eyes that had your heart thundering in your ears.

And—before you could even process what you were about to do—you leaned up and pressed a kiss to his lips.

He stiffened in shock, and by then, you realized what you had done. You pulled away frantically and started babbling apologies. You tried to move away, to duck under his arm, but his grip tightened, and he was kissing you in earnest.

What?

This was not what friends did.

But you couldn’t find it in yourself to care nor complain.

So you let your eyelids flutter shut, and you pressed back.

You awoke in the middle of the night to the sound of your front door opening.

Jolting upright, you reached beside your bed, where you kept your baseball bat. 

Should you call someone?

The police?

Would they even get here in time?

You dove into the closet and shut the door as quietly as possible, just as the door to your bedroom opened, and someone stepped inside. Through a crack in the door jam, you could see the person.

Taller than you, black hair, a white mask, and a long black coat.

The mysterious man stared for a blank moment at your rumpled futon before shaking his head and tearing apart your room. 

Almost quite literally.

Your dresser drawers were pulled out and dumped. Your desk was almost overturned, with all its drawers also being pulled out. Papers were rifled through. 

And it was then that you realized what this man was looking for.

 Your planner.

You kept the thing under your pillow specifically in case of something like this.

“Hei! You find it yet?!” A familiar voice, and Huang, of all people, enters the room, looking rather miffed at something. The man in the mask shakes his head silently, and they both freeze when you accidentally knock your baseball bat against the wall. You curse and scoot backward just as the door is flung open, and you are dragged out by a rough hand.

“I thought you said she’d be outta town!” Huang shouts at the masked man, and you realize something else.

You know that hair.

And only one other person knows the code to your front door or even has a key to get in if the code doesn’t work.

You start to struggle against Huang’s grip,

“Li!” You shriek, and both men freeze.

“She knows you like this?!” Huang demands, and “Hei” shakes his head,

“She doesn’t.” Is all he says, his voice not at all like how it usually was. He didn’t sound happy. He sounded… sad? Monotone? You weren’t even sure what word to describe what you yourself were feeling, much less what the man in front of you.

But you didn’t have much time to think about anything. Huang hauled you upright and shoved your body at the masked man. 

Did you call him Hei? 

Or was he Li? Your boyfriend of six months. The man who kissed you goodbye when he walked you home. The man who always asked about your work and how you were doing?

It was then that you figured out what word you could use to describe yourself.

You felt betrayed. 

You stumbled into Hei’s chest and immediately backpedaled, shoving his arms away when he reached to hold your hands.

“Stay away from me!” You cry, tears welling up, and you stand between him and Huang, tears stinging your eyes.

“You used me!” You accuse the man in front of you with such venom he takes a step back. He holds his hands out, saying your name in a pleading tone. You plug your fingers in your ears, feeling a bit childish, but you don’t want to hear his excuses.

He had used you. 

Used you to get at your boss and get into your work. Sure, you were a secretary, but a secretary at a very important business who worked with PANDORA on Hell’s Gate.

All of a sudden, you feel something cover your mouth and nose. You panic. Hei panics, but you hear Huang speak as you sink into unconsciousness.

“We have to wipe her mind.”

The sun is setting as you step off the bus and begin your trek home.

Work had been exceedingly stressful. The project your boss was in charge of was getting closer to the deadline, and it still wasn’t done. You had stepped up and helped with paperwork, but you were just a secretary, so what could you do?

You run face-first into someone solid and go tumbling to the ground.

“Are you okay?! Sorry, I wasn’t—” You look up to see a young man. He’s handsome. Maybe a bit plain, but something about him has your heart fluttering. But his face looks so utterly heartbroken and torn as you frown up at him.

“Uh… It’s fine. No big deal.” You say as he helps you up and quickly brushes past you, shoving his hands in his pockets and ducking his head without another word. 

You watch after the man with black hair and broken eyes, and only one thought sticks out in your mind.

“I’ve never seen him before… so… why does my heart cry at the look on his face?”

[casbeeminestiel]

I posted 8,480 times in 2022

That's 7,842 more posts than 2021!

1,025 posts created (12%)

7,455 posts reblogged (88%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@bitingmp3

@thenightwemetnatural

@ledzeppelinmixtape

@castielsupernatural

@xofemeraldstars

I tagged 2,593 of my posts in 2022

#duckposting - 690 posts

#supernatural - 64 posts

#grey’s anatomy - 55 posts

#duckacrossthepond - 50 posts

#grey’s anatomy spoilers - 39 posts

#castiel - 35 posts

#dean winchester - 34 posts

#florida - 33 posts

#destiel - 26 posts

#prev - 24 posts

Longest Tag: 137 characters

#all it takes is one common interest or nonsense exchange and suddenly you’d die for your faceless mutual from the other side of the world

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Day 2: Pillow Talk

They get home well after midnight, stumbling into the bunker with errant bits of corn silk on their clothes and the lingering warmth of cider on their breath. Sam and Eileen lead the way, Sam turned as much towards her as possible as he signs something Dean can’t quite make out.

That’s okay though. He squeezes Cas’ hand three times and shoots a wink his way. Cas smiles like he’s never been happier. Dean knows for a fact that he hasn’t.

Earlier, at the corn maze, they had stayed together the entire time. It wasn’t a plan exactly, but Dean was certainly pleased with the outcome. He still feels the ghost of Cas’ stubble on his lips, barely refraining from reaching up to touch them with his free hand.

It would be ridiculous if it wasn’t so damn sweet.

They peel off into separate directions. Sam and Eileen go to the kitchen, and Dean and Cas head down the hallway toward the bedrooms.

When they reach Dean’s door, they stop, unsure.

Do I invite him in? But wait, what does he expect tonight? Am I ready for sex?

Castiel, as if sensing his thoughts, rushes to assure him.

“I would be amenable to spending more time with you tonight. I thoroughly enjoyed kissing you, but I hope you know that I don’t want anything you don’t want. Your happiness is the most important thing to me, Dean. We could do anything, or we could do nothing. To me, it would still be everything.”

And Dean, well. Dean damn near sheds a tear. To have someone anticipate his anxiety and for him to know that Cas means every word of reassurance? Dean thinks he just fell in love all over again.

As it is, he can’t stop himself from cupping Cas’ face and kissing him sweet and slow. Cas closes his eyes and sinks into the sensation immediately, his hands coming to rest on Dean’s heart over his flannel. His lips taste like cinnamon. When they pull apart, Dean nips at ‘em.

“Fuck, c’mon in, Sunshine.”

Dean opens the door with shaky hands and lets them both in. As soon as the door is closed, Cas is up in his space (as if he ever really left it), catching his eye in a clear request.

Dean nods. Of course he does. They’ve spent twelve years not kissing each other, and it’s a damn shame and an error that must be amended immediately.

They fall into each other in an instant, restraint checked at the door. Dean’s higher function shuts off, leaving his brain in a state of primordial mush. Cas makes a sweet sound into his mouth and wraps his arms tight around Dean. Dean closes the remaining gap between them, pressing their bodies together heads, shoulders, knees, and toes.

It’s desperate, in a way. But it’s not demanding. Dean marvels at this. So rarely has he been with a partner who wants him, but also simply wants him to be comfortable.

They keep kissing through the lump in Dean’s throat, and they only break apart when a tear rolls down his cheek and meets Cas’ hand at the seam of his jaw.

“Dean,” he brushes another tear away, tender. “Are you alright?”

“Y-yeah, Cas. I’m… I’m not good with all this touchy-feely emotional stuff.”

Cas’ eyebrows knit together.

“Do you want to stop?”

“What? No. No, man.” The very thought.

“Then what…?” The question is implied. What can I do to make you feel good about this?

“Cas, listen. I have my hang ups about this kinda stuff, ok? I’m not saying I won’t trip up down the road. I mean, you know me,” he breathes through a chuckle.

“This though? Right here? I’m good. I’m more than good. Fuck, I’m finally kissing the guy that I’m in love with, so y’know.”

“Dean,” Cas melts against him at the words. He folds him back into his arms, tucking his head in the crook of Dean’s shoulder. Dean releases a shuddering breath, knowing Cas feels it when he clings tighter.

For a while, they just sway in place like this. There’s none of the urgency of earlier to be found in their embrace.

That is until Cas pulls back just enough to draw Dean back in against his lips. Then, Dean is lost to bliss and ignorant of time as they move together. It’s all heat and honey bee buzzing.

They land on the bed, they lose their shirts, and they find each other over and over and over again. It’s a crescendo with nowhere to go, a taste of what’s to come and a dose of perfect medicine.

See the full post

89 notes - Posted October 2, 2022

#4

Day 3: Digital

Jack pops into Sam’s room abruptly, completely engrossed with the Nintendo Switch in his hands. Sam sits up with a yell, prompting Eileen to startle and smack him in the face with a sleepy hand. The kid seems to realize his manners a second too late and shoots a sheepish look at Sam.

“Jack, remember what I said about knocking?” Sam pinches the bridge of his nose, blearily checking the alarm clock on his nightstand to discover it’s 7:00 AM. 

Eileen raises her tousled head from where it was soundly buried in her pillow, squinting at Jack and offering him a quickly signed hello before falling right back into the blankets. Sam can’t help the smile that grows on his face despite his exhaustion. They were up late last night scheming… among other things.

“Sorry! I meant to appear in the kitchen, but I was distracted by my game.” Sam wants to be mad, he really does. But Jack is a good one.

“Maybe uh, don’t fly and game at the same time, yeah?”

Jack nods firmly. He gets that from Cas, that same cruciality with which he takes to everything. Something as silly as this is treated with the same consideration that a life or death mission is.

“What made you so distracted anyways?” Sam thinks he might as well catch up with Jack since he’s certainly not catching up on sleep anymore. Eileen on the other hand- Sam absently brushes a stray hair out of his fiance’s face and envies her ability to return to her slumber so readily.

“Oh! Well, I’m playing Animal Crossing. See?” He tilts the screen around to show Sam. “I was just fishing in the game, and I found it very peaceful. Dean and I went fishing once, remember? Anyways, I went to his room first to show him, but he and C- he was sleeping, so I tried to go to the kitchen. But then I ended up here!”

Sam bites the inside of his cheek, knowing fully well that Cas ended up in Dean’s room last night. He wants to tell Jack that his secret is not as much of a secret as he thinks, but he decides to let it slide under the radar. He still wants to let Dean take his time with this one.

For now, he settles for asking Jack more questions about his game until Eileen wakes up again and asks what’s for breakfast.

The three of them make their way to the kitchen, Jack chattering away about his adventures for the past few weeks. He’s been making the rounds with Jody, Donna, and the girls as well as Amara and Rowena. When he’s not with them, he’s been doing cool stuff like spending a day under the ocean with a pod of dolphins (he rescued a calf from a fishing net and befriended the group) or bowling with a biker gang in Baton-Rouge (“Terri-May looks scary, Sam, but she actually is very nice”).

Sam doesn’t even pretend he isn’t fascinated by Jack’s adventures. The kid just seems to make friends wherever he goes. He has that effect on people, apparently. And the way he approaches life, all genuine curiosity and an undaunted kind of love for the bizarre, reminds Sam that this is what they fought for.

He lets Eileen take over some of the conversation as he makes pancakes and coffee for them, though he still listens and offers input every now and again. He watches the two sign back and forth in glances while he stirs the batter, mentally rattling off his breakdown of breakfast the whole time.

Pumpkin pancakes for Dean, Jack, and Eileen, and banana pancakes for me and Cas. Coffee, black for Dean and I. Two sugars for Eileen. Honey for Cas. Apple juice for Jack. Bacon for everyone but me, and an extra piece for Eileen. Fruit on the side for all of us. 

Like clockwork, Dean and Cas wander into the kitchen as soon as he slides the last pancake onto a plate and spoons some sliced strawberries to the side.

“Mornin’ everybody.” Dean is more free of tension than Sam has seen him in years, loose-limbed and wrapped tightly in his beloved dead guy robe. He won’t think of the implications, but he does leave a mental note of gratitude for Cas, who looks as equally pleased with life this morning as Dean does. Their hands aren’t quite brushing, but it’s a close thing.

Cas spots Jack and makes a quick detour to hug him on his way around the table. Jack reciprocates instantly in an embrace that absolutely no one would mistake for anything other than a son hugging his father. If Sam catches Dean’s fond smile at the two of them, he doesn’t mention it.

“I missed you, Jack.”

“Missed you too.” Jack steps back and addresses Dean, “And I missed you.”

It takes all of two seconds for Dean to break. “Shit, bring it in, kiddo.”

Dean wraps his arms around Jack tight. Sam knows his brother has a complicated history with the kid, but he also knows his brother too well to think he doesn’t love Jack like family. Dean will spend the rest of his life making up for his past mistakes with the boy he considers his own. That determination to make things right is one of Dean’s best qualities.

The thought almost makes Sam forget about the corn maze retribution plan he’s hatching with Eileen. 

Almost, but not quite.

He thinks about it some more as he eats his pancakes and enjoys the casual domesticity of their makeshift family, pretending he doesn’t know Cas has a hand on Dean’s thigh beneath the table. Turns over scenarios and logistics in his mind between bites of strawberry, drinks revenge in with his coffee.

Jack’s digital mishap this morning may have given him a wonderful, horrible idea. 

Dean, he thinks, enjoy your peace and quiet now, man.

90 notes - Posted October 4, 2022

#3

I’m talking about Florida a lot today, so I should also emphasize that there are thousands of LGBTQ+ kids whose education and mental health are being put in potential danger by a recent legislative decision. We’re under a red majority here that tends to lean conservative on many social issues. You may have heard of the “Don’t Say Gay Bill” that recently passed through the House and has Governor DeSantis’ approval. If you haven’t, it’s essentially an ambiguously worded bill regarding parental involvement in education. The bill claims to restrict conversations about sexuality and gender to age-appropriate subjects, but it does not define what is considered inappropriate for the classroom. Parents can also opt their children out of learning what they deem to be “inappropriate”, and teachers can be reported for violating this bill. Furthermore, people are concerned that the implementation of this bill can give schools the liberty to out LGBTQ+ students to their parents, which is an infringement of their privacy and a potential danger to their lives. This bill is just vague enough to sound harmless, but the consequences could be damning. Religious schools hardly teach sexual education, let alone LGBTQ+ history. This bill has the potential to do the same thing to public schools here. I will attach the link to the bill below-

https://www.myfloridahouse.gov/Sections/Documents/loaddoc.aspx?FileName=_h1557c1.docx&DocumentType=Bill&BillNumber=1557&Session=2022

Below are some Floridian LGBTQ+ initiatives, organizations, and funds. Do your research before supporting any organization, please. But I’m worried that whatever progress being made in my state will be set back if this bill is weaponized. I’m not going to guilt anyone into reblogging, nor donating. That sucks. But I’m going to pin this to my blog and ask you to consider looking into this bill and it’s implications. Florida and Texas and other red states are known for political decisions like these, but not every citizen supports how things are being done here. And kids and teenagers deserve better.

https://www.jaxcf.org/lgbtq

https://www.thetrevorproject.org/blog/fighting-for-trans-youth-in-florida-and-beyond/

See the full post

195 notes - Posted February 8, 2022

#2

I love how fanfic authors decided that half of Dean’s sexuality problems could be solved if Cas pushed him against a wall and made out with him because honestly they’re right

219 notes - Posted June 19, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

It’s a beautiful day to remember that Red, White & Royal Blue is going to be a movie

266 notes - Posted February 11, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[sagemoderocklee]

truly so appalled by that screenshot about a*3 that i cannot sleep. i used to talk about this a lot more but the way ppl in fandom spaces absolutely don’t respect writing as a craft… like this is it!!! this right here is the culmination of that!!! this is killing actual literature and why we get bs like that r*ylo fic that got published and is supposedly a nyt best seller

genres exist for a reason!!! genres are what you’re looking for when you go to a book store!!! not tropes and tags!!! and guess what a poorly organized bookstore is partly because ppl are underpaid and overworked, and partly cause customers be lazy af and don’t put shit back cause “it’s not my job”

i love going to bookstores. i love looking through shelves of books. i love looking at covers and reading summaries. i don’t wanna pick up a published work that’s actually just fanfiction masquerading as something else with blurbs like “enemies to lovers!” on it cause it doesn’t tell me anything!!! the reason those work for fanfic is because fanfiction exists within an already established story!!! we already know what the story is and who the characters are!!! so you can tag it with “there’s only one bed” and have that be enough because the actual story already exists separately!!!!!!

i love to write and read fanfiction, but it has done something to yall, this whole entire fandom culture becoming mainstream has ruined ppls respect for storytelling. like it is truly and sincerely wild (and awful and disheartening) to me the utter lack of respect for writers and the craft of writing ppl who claim to love reading/writing are espousing rn. if all you ever wanna do is read/write fanfiction no one is stopping you, but published books need to behave like literature. and if you truly believe and want others to believe that fanfiction IS transformative then you have got to stop dismissing and disrespecting literature

[heavenlydevine]

THINGS NOT TO SAY TO A PERSON DEALING WITH DEPRESSION:

NOTE: If you have never suffered from mental illness, it may be difficult for you to completely understand what it is like. It cannot just magically go away. So instead of blurting out what seems like rational advice to someone with depression, try to take a moment to consider the depths of their despair and the effects of your speech. Words have power.

SHARE AND REBLOG. THIS MIGHT HELP SOMEONE OUT THERE.

↠ Cheer up, it isn't the end of the world. No, it isn't but it certainly feels like it. Having depression is different than having a bad day. We can all bounce back from a bad day. A person with depression may need treatment for weeks, months, or years before they feel well again. Do not make light of a serious affliction. You have absolutely no idea, unless you've been through something similar, how much harm those words can cause.

↠You'll get over it. No, it isn't that simple. Depression feels relentless and never-ending. When you do your best to plaster on a smile and pretend everything in your life isn't falling apart, bit by bit, then it will most certainly not feel like you'll ever get over it. Some people just can't heal.

↠What do you have to be depressed about? A person might have a terrific job, a nice home, a beautiful family, and many friends. I for one, have a beautiful family. I have a beautiful little girl who keeps me in place, but even then, when people tell me constantly that I have nothing to be depressed about, is to ask them if they could walk in my shoes, knowing what I've went through, and still come out 100% fine in the end?  Just because things seem terrific on the surface of their life, does not mean that they are not hurting. Open your mind to the possibility that everything is not as rosy as it seems.

↠Stop being so dramatic. In truth, the behavior of a depressed person might not even begin to reveal the extent of pain that they are suffering, so don't judge someone when they finally break down and give insight to what's been bothering them. There is no set of rules for how a person should behave when they are consumed with sorrow. I deal with it in three stages: denial that it's real, anger that I can't make it go away, and then a haunting truth that something is wrong, yet instead of talking about it, I hide. Because too many times has someone told me that I'm being dramatic. Instead of judging their behavior, realize that mental illness is a ruthless and formidable opponent. Have compassion.

↠It's all in your head. This one, this simple little sentence has such a big impact on someone struggling with depression. Yes, it is. It's a mental illness. And the mind is jus as important as the rest of the body is. Imagine being trapped in your own mind, constantly being plagued with sinister thoughts of unworthiness. Whether tomorrow actually comes, whether it would be worth it. Try being trapped in a cage, wishing for a glimpse of freedom, only to throw away the key because you'd rather deal with your own thoughts and emotions than lay them out in the open, waiting for someone to understand.

↠You don't look depressed. Oh, I'm sorry. What does depression look like? What am I supposed to look like? While it is true that some people stop caring for themselves physically due to serious depression, it is also true that people can appear completely healthy. Depression affects people differently. People with depression can sometimes function in a seemingly normal way. They might take care of themselves, go to work, and even smile or laugh. This does not mean that they are not experiencing internal anguish.

↠Snap out of it. Oh, if we they could. Do not make the mistake of thinking that a person can simply choose to turn off their depression. We can't pull off a Damon Salvatore from the Vampire Diaries and switch it off. This is reality. If they could, they would. Nobody wants to feel the debilitating sorrow that accompanies depression. It is not a pleasant feeling. It may take counseling, medication, and months of healing before a depressed person feels relief. Instead of suggesting that they turn it off, let them know that you understand that they do not have this power. Understanding is a rare gift to someone who is struggling.

↠It could be worse. Depression skews a person's world view. Logically, they know that things could be worse. They could be suffering torture or enduring homelessness. However, when people are depressed, knowing that it could be worse does nothing to ease their pain. Their mind can be consumed by thoughts of loneliness, being misunderstood, and unimaginable emotional turmoil. These feelings can make a person physically ill. Highlighting the fact that people are starving in foreign countries will do nothing to soothe the pain of someone with depression. Instead, be sure they know that you take their suffering seriously.

↠Don't be selfish. Those with depression may seem like they are only focused on themselves. The truth is that depression can consume a person's thoughts and actions. When people are overtaken by feelings of hopelessness, it is difficult for them to see beyond their own pain. This does not make them selfish. It makes them hurting human beings. By calling them selfish, you are adding to the guilt and shame that accompany feelings of worthlessness and isolation. Instead, suggest that they take care of themselves. Offer to give them a break by babysitting for them or bringing them groceries. Help them practice self-care, such as getting a massage or meeting with a therapist.

↠You think you have it bad. Do not minimize the pain someone is going through by suggesting that you have it worse than they do. You cannot possibly know what is going on inside someone else's mind. By stating that you somehow have it worse than they do, you are completely devaluing the seriousness of their condition. Instead, tell them that you cannot begin to imagine what they are going through - which is, in fact, true. Just be there for them and listen. People with depression do not expect you to solve their problems. They just want to be heard and understood.

It's difficult to explain depression to someone who hasn't, or still is, experiencing it themselves. You get days where you can barely see the sun shine, and then days where it feels like you just can't anymore.

Depression kills things slowly. You can't see it, but it's there. All around is. It isn't nice to judge someone—especially when you have no idea what they've been through, or is going through. 

So when someone tells you that they are in a dark place, or whether they feel lost, or find themselves in a constant loop that seems never ending, try to be more understanding. It takes a lot out of a person to let go. 

Be kind.

If you are dealing with depression, or know of someone going through a rough time, please reach out. It never hurts to check up.

Because the haunting truth is the little old saying, you'll never know until its too late.

MY DMS ARE ALWAYS OPEN.

[paidcontent]

hello, everyone! i hope you’re having a fantastic day. there have been a few changes over here at what is now @paidcontent!

              supportpaidcontent → paidcontent

firstly, i’ve clearly changed the URL. this is only due to the fact that i didn’t want anyone to confuse us for the lovely people over at SCC, nor did i want anyone to have the wrong idea of our intentions here at paidcontent! i completely hadn’t even realized the similarity at all when i made the blog, but someone pointed out that they had thought that i had malicious intent with the url. if you know me, you know that’s impossible! i support SCC so much, and want that notion to be far from anyone’s mind! i hope this changes that. 😊

secondly, our tag will also change! our tag is now #aidpaidcontent. i think this still has the same effect as support, and i kinda like that it rhymes! 

the anonymous function has been turned off. this is due to a very large amount of anon hatred. i apologize to anyone who has sincere questions, but typically wishes to remain anonymous. however, i am an adult with things to do, and i simply do not have the time or patience to frequently delete spammy anon hate from people who do not have anything better to do. if you’d like to contact me, dm’s are open, and so is the askbox without anon!

                                                  reminders

tag us! and if you have old posts you’d like me to reblog, please, send me the links! <3

this blog was founded by me, lauren! you can find me over at @tifffanyvalentine, where i make gifs, share resources, etc! <3

and lastly, a reminder to take ur meds (with water), don’t worry about things you can’t control, and make the most of ur day if you can! 

[kaz11283]

I Think I'm in Love (pt 2)

Announcement: this is the second part of my "I think I'm in love....shit" Loki prompt that just got completly away from me. I just absolutly love writing all the request and the prompts sent my way. I have another song insperation that I am working on (in my head) that I will be starting on after I finish this one up then it will be back to writing for Fire and Ice for a bit. Thank you guys so much for all the suppost that I am getting and all the shares and reblogs. I didnt get to meet my goal for last month of 200 followers but i hope to be at that by the end of this month then I will try to think of something to do as a celebration so keep your eye peeled! 💚💚💚💚💚

Loki Masterlist

"Lady y/n, Thank you very much for the dance. I shall find you again before the night is through to have another dance." He bowed taking your hand and kissing it.

"That would be a pleasure Sir Fandral. I shall save one for you." You curtised to him and turning to walk off. Before you knew it you had been swept up by yet another guest spinning you around the dance floor causing you to loose track of time.

"My Lady, may I have this next dance?" Thors voice boomed next you to causing you to smile.

"Of course you may, you did promise me at least one tonight." You took his hand and let him lead you across the floor where the crowd opened up leaving the dance floor open for you and the prince. You smiled as he wrapped his arm around your waist pulling you closer to him.

Loki huffed next to his mother and rolled his eyes. "Honestly, the way he looks at her."

"Loki Odinson!" His mother swatted at his arm. "That is your brother out there simply dancing with a good friend, if you are so jealous then why dont you go out there and dance with her?"

"I am not jealous of Thor." He said.

"You could have fooled me. The way you have been watching her all night? The way you act around her? You act more like yourself, and dont you tell me other wise. You would give that girl the moon and stars if she asked and you know it." Hearing his mother say it out lound stund Loki, sure hos brother had dropped hints and asked him multiple times about the two of you but all Loki could normally do was laugh about it.

"She doesnt feel the same mother. How could she? I am second best, I am not the one that will take the throne one day." He sighed looking at Frigga.

"Shut up Loki. You are not second best. You are my son. And not all girls want the future king, they dont wamt the crown or the popularity that it brings. Beleive it or not some girls just want to love and be loved. I see the way she looks at you with love and passion, you hung the moon for that girl at a young age and she will always beleive that. Go dance with her before I call you both out." Frigga gave him a gentle nudge forward shooing him away.

As Loki walked to were you and Thor were dancing his stomach was flipping and he was straightening out his top as best as he could. Walking up he tapped Thor on the shoulder causing his brother to turn around.

"May I cut in Lady y/n and possibly save you a few toes from being stepped on?" He took notice of how your face lite up and you eagerly nodded smiling he returned the smile and offered you his hand.

"We shall finish another time lady y/n." Thor bowed walking away.

"I was expecting to see you sooned Loki." You smiled up at him as you placed one arm around his neck and placing you other hand on his chest.

"I was talking with mother about some things." He placed his arm around your waist pulling you close just like the others had done but with him you felt more at ease like you belonged there in his arms, more protected, no one would dare cut in as long as you was right there with Loki and you liked that. He took his free hand and tucked a peice of your hair that has fallen down back behind your ear before placing his hand over yours on his chest. To others around you this was normal you and Loki behavior but to the two of you there was something diffrent settling between you.

"You look absolutly beautiful tonight y/n, my colors look absolutly amazing on you." He smiled looking you dead in the eyes. He took his hand and traced the sleeve down to your bare arm. Your breath caught as you meet his eyes.

"And you, my prince of mischief, look just as stunning." You grinned.

"Darling I always look good." He laughed cauing you to giggle. "I do tend to look just a little bit better though when you are around." It slipped out before he could even think.

"What?" Your mouth dropped slightly.

"Well this has seemed to make things slightly awkward." He said giving you a slightly forced smile. You pulled him tighter to you almost forcing him to look in your eyes.

"Dont try to joke your way out of that little comment Loki."

"Y/n, I think I'm in love, with you." He leaned in slightly looking you right in the eyes.

You let out a sigh of relief. "Oh thank the Norns, I think I'm in love with you too Loki Odinson." You pulled him the rest of the way toward you so that your lips could finally meet after years of dreaming of this moment. His lips were soft and welcoming, they felt like what you had always imagined and you never wanted to stop.

"Ah, see mother. Harmless tricks and small little fibs. I knew they would fall into each others arms before the end of the night. Everything is as it should be." Thor gave a big smile turning to his mother.

"Well you weren't the only one planting seeds tonight." Frigga laughed at the look on Thors face as it dropped. "Me and Loki had a wonderful heart to heart while you danced with her."

You pulled away from Loki and placed you head under his chin as he laced his fingers together behind you. "Would it ruin the moment if I told you I had nothing to do with the outfit choice tonight?" You asked looking up at him.

"No my dove it wouldnt, though I must ask, who picked it out." He laughed.

"Dont ask me why but your brother had it delivered to my room this afternoon with shoes." You could see the wheels turning in his head.

"Now may I ask you something with out sounding crazy?" He asked.

"Of course Loki."

"Fandral, did he ask to escort you tonight?"

"Norns no! Do not get me wrong, he is a very nice man but I would not have came with him tonight. Who told you that?". Loki turned away from you facing toward Thor and Frigga. You followed his gaze.

"Oh dear my eldest. It seems as if you have been found out." Frigga simply stated taking a sip of her wine as she watched the two of you walk thier way.

Thors eye widened as he took a few steps back. "Mother, what would be the plan?"

"I warned you that you was playing with fire when it came to those two. Loki and y/n are bad enough seprate when it comes to tricks, them together though? Much worst." She took another sip from her glass. "Dont forget that they are doing some redecorating in the west wing so that is completly blocked off." Thor kissed Friggas cheek mumbling a thank you amd turning to leave right as you amd Loki were walking up the steps.

"Mother-"

"West wing is beimg redone so hes not there. He wont leave the castle, not tonight at least, but I do remember him turning to the right as he ran out." Lol I took off after his brother.

"So my dear? The mystery man you had mentioned so many time turned out to be my son? I dont know if I should be hurt or thankful that he has someone like you to keep him calm." She smiled at you.

You blusjed before looking back at her. "Yes, Allmother. Please forgive me for not tellimg you the truth."

"All is fine, of course you will have to finish your teachings since you will one day be a princess of Asguard." She smiled at you.

"Of course Allmother you smile taking a few steps back. If you will please excuse me, I must go find your sons so that Loki doesnt kill Thor." You laughed turning to run in the direction the two princes had ran.

~~~~~

If you would like to be tagged in any of my requests, one shots, or my series you are more than welcome to drop a message or a ask. 💚💚💚💚

Tag list:

@kgirardin

@sophlubbwriting

@supbeeches

@high-functioning-lokipath

@rosaline-black

@drbaureid