#i need to see myself as someone who doesn’t fit in simply bc it is missunderstood or as a whole concept hard to grasp and decipher

[wngweis]

unsatisfied, bored. unsettled. yeah

[formereldestdaughter]

ok wait i need to hear more of your thoughts on peeta owning a bakery....

This is one of those rare times where I’m pretty sure this anon isn’t someone I know personally bc I’ve subjected anyone who will listen to my rant about the Peeta Bakery Headcanon. Anyway, you’re gonna regret asking this anon bc there are fucking Layers here.

I know this is probably a controversial take based on the number of fics where I’ve seen it, but I simply do not think that Peeta would open a commercial bakery after Mockingjay!! Like on a metatextual level, I don’t think it really fits with the point of the ending of the series. It actually sort of fascinates me that it’s just such a common headcanon because the ending of Mockingjay is exceedingly vague. I think that vagueness invites us, as readers, to imagine a better world post-revolution. A world where Katniss would feel confident that her children would be safe from injustice, where she’d feel confident that her children would never know want the way she did as a child. A just world. A kinder world. Can a capitalist society ever be just? Is a capitalist society where a disabled teenager has no other means to subsist himself (or feels like there’s no other way he can be a contributing member of his community) really the post-revolution world we dream of? Is that really the best we can imagine?

(This got so insanely long I’m adding a read more lmao)

I get that showing a better world is not always the point of post-mockingjay headcanons/fics. Like there are plenty of really great post-mockingjay fics I’ve seen where, yeah, part of the fic is that society like ISN’T all that different or all that much better. I’ve seen that really well done! Hell, I’ve written them myself! It’s easy to imagine how a lot of aspects of society would not get an overhaul, a lot of the same structural inequalities would continue to exist. One headcanon that really stuck with me (I can’t remember which fic it was from) was that Peeta sells basically mail order baked goods to people on the Capitol, sending them iced cakes and pastries by train, because there are still people who were “fans” of theirs during the Games. And idk this doesn’t actually have much to do with my point lol but I liked it because it’s kind of fucked up and like! Yeah! It makes sense! If he needed money that would be a good way to make it! War often makes people rich, often for horrible reasons, and often it’s people who already have capital in the first place.

Anyway, more about the hypothetical bakery because alright. I bring up the fact that “yeah society not being all that different post-revolution and still being an unjust capitalist hellscape” could be a reason why Peeta re-opens a bakery because that’s actually never the types of fics where I see the bakery headcanon. Fics where Peeta opens a bakery are usually trying to make the exact opposite point. Like. Things are getting better, now he can open a bakery! Look at how much better the world is now, plus he’s got a bakery! Peeta is healing, that’s why he can open a bakery now! And I am so, so sorry to inform everyone who’s never had the grave misfortune of owning a family business, but there is truly nothing further from the truth lmao. Like just putting aside the immense amount of emotional baggage that Peeta has about his family, running a small business is an insane amount of work in any context and being a baker especially is physically grueling and involves early hours (and long hours) that aren’t really the best fit with the multiple ways that Peeta is disabled now. (I could go into this more because I have a lot of thoughts. But I will spare you.). I also think it’s seen throughout the books that Peeta is someone who needs time to pursue creative outlets to process his feelings and someone who values leisure and values quality time with his loved ones. And having grown up in his family’s bakery, I think he’d understand the reality that running a bakery wouldn’t leave much space of those pursuits and wouldn’t leave much space for him to have the things that keep him healthy and stable. I think he’d know that the way he is now— after two Games and the war and unspeakable torture at the hands of a dictator—isn’t compatible with the lifestyle necessary for running a commercial bakery.

And tbh with that in mind, I don’t think he’d push himself to re-open a business (one that would be a constant reminder of his dead family and his complicated relationships with them that got no closure) that would require him to sacrifice his physical and emotional well-being. Like I think he might look into the possibility, I think he might even start trying to open a bakery out of a sense of obligation/duty, maybe harboring some idea that this is who he was supposed to be, who he would've been without the Games, or that it’s this last piece of his family that can live on, or that it’s this last connection to his family so he can’t let it die too. But ultimately, I think any attempt to open a bakery wouldn’t get very far. Maybe he'd start wading into the logistical nightmare that is small business ownership and realize it's not for him (because it's probably also true that as much as him and his brothers were involved in the business, there's almost certainly parts they weren't involved with and didn't see, i.e., filing taxes). Or maybe looking into opening a bakery— how triggering it is, the stress of it— causes a downward spiral. Maybe he hates how much he's worrying everyone by unraveling. Maybe having a breakdown from the stress of just trying to open a bakery makes him realize, yeah, maybe in another life he would have ran his family’s bakery but the way he is now just doesn’t work with running a bakery, not without great sacrifices he's not willing to make. I just can’t see a bakery coming to fruition.

I know a lot of fics include Peeta deciding to reopen a bakery as a big step in his healing or include him rebuilding a bakery as part of his healing process but honestly, I think the opposite would be more true: I think Peeta either trying/failing to open a bakery or ultimately deciding not to open a bakery would be hugely healing for him. I think it would be a huge part of him accepting the way he is now as a person, his new limitations but also his strengths. I think it would be a huge part of him accepting the way his life his now and accepting that he likes his life the way it is, that he’s satisfied with his life without needing to own a bakery. I think it would be an important part of him coming to terms with the loss of his family. I think he knows he can never have things back as they were and I don’t think he would try to recreate them, especially because his family’s legacy isn’t a business. I think he’s emotionally intelligent enough and self reflective enough to realize that what mattered to him about the bakery— taking care of others by feeding them, being integrated into his community and being actively involved in it, brightening people’s days with delightful things whether that’s beautiful cakes or hearty food or delicious treats— and the things he learned from his family through the bakery, are things that he can carry on in other meaningful ways.

(Do you regret sending this ask yet, anon? Because if not, you will soon. I’m not done yet. There’s more.)

I wasn’t really sure where to put this next part in what is rapidly becoming an essay because it sort of combines the points about like “what do we imagine a post-mockingjay society to look like” with the practical difficulties of starting this bakery but here’s another thing: do people really think that the Mellarks owned the land the bakery was on?? Like, sure, the merchants are the petit bourgeois of Twelve but I still don’t imagine they really own anything. In a society where houses are assigned to people upon marriage, where property ownership and capital are so closely interconnected with citizenship (as shown by the Plinths who, by having immense capital, are able to leave their District and become citizens of the Capitol) do people really think the Mellarks would be allowed to own the land their bakery is on?? I always imagined it sort of like a tenant farming situation: the Capitol gives them the raw materials for the bakery and in return the bakery give them some absurdly high portion of their profits, or the Capitol sells them a year’s supply of raw materials at a premium on credit and at the end of the year the Mellarks have to use the money they made with those materials to pay it back, except it’s never enough to turn a profit so they always have to buy next year’s materials on credit and the cycle continues.

We (understandably) get a really skewed view of the merchant class through Katniss’s perspective so I can see why people come to the conclusion that his family owned the property and, as the last surviving member, he would’ve inherited it. I’ve seen the inheritance thing in fics a lot or a hand wavey “well Twelve was decimated to no one owns anything anymore so it can be his” or even like an almost sort of reparations type situation where he’s entitled to the land as a surviving refugee of Twelve. But I don’t know. I guess I don’t think it fits with everything else we know about Panem that the Mellarks would’ve owned that land and I think the question of whether the government would’ve let him take ownership of the land post-revolution brings up a lot of issues about the structure of society post-Mockingjay that I find more interesting to explore in other ways, especially when, from an emotional perspective, 1) I find the idea of Peeta not opening a bakery more compelling and 2) I don’t think it really fits his character arc by the end of Mockingjay to reopen a bakery, as I went on about at length above lol.

On the flip side: literally who cares!! Do whatever you want!! Headcanon whatever you want!! I get why people go for the bakery!! It’s fun, it’s wholesome, it’s a built in bakery AU that isn’t even an AU. It doesn’t matter if it’s practical or realistic!! It doesn’t need to be practical or realistic!! It’s fanfic of a dystopian YA series!! My unfortunate affliction is that I grew up in a family that owned a restaurant and that I have multiple degrees in the social sciences so I can’t see the bakery without being like “What about the overheard? What about the start up costs? Who’s spending long nights balancing the books? Is Peeta covering shifts when an employee calls in sick? Is Peeta the sole person working there until the bakery is open long enough (often a year or more) to start turning a profit? How does that sleep schedule work with his nightmares? How does that work with Katniss’s nightmares? What happens when he has an episode and suddenly needs to take the day off before he has any employees? Does the bakery just remain closed for the day? Can the profit margins withstand regular unexpected closures? Can the supplies withstand regular unexpected closures?” And if the answer is “Elliott none of those things matter he’s not doing the bakery because he needs the money but because he wants to”, then my question is why does he want to? Does he not get the same sort of satisfaction out of feeding his loved ones? Doesn’t Peeta seem like someone who would rather give away baked goods than sell them?? Doesn’t Peeta seem like someone who would prefer to make cakes for people’s special occasions upon and then when they insist on paying him for it, he only lets them “pay for the ingredients” which actually cost significantly more than he says they did??

So yeah my point is that it’s a matter of personal taste! It doesn’t fit the way I see the series but that doesn’t mean it’s like wrong, I’m not an authority on Peeta lmao.

It’s also a matter of personal taste in the sense that I find the themes that most resonate with me at the end of Mockingjay (and the end of Peeta’s arc specifically) more interesting to explore in other ways. Grief, living with loss, relearning yourself, finding hope, figuring out your place in a dramatically different world when you don’t even know who you are anymore, healing, building a new life after such complete and total destruction of your old life— those are all things I find compelling about the end of Mockingjay but for me the bakery isn’t the most compelling way to explore them.

Not to say I find the concept of the bakery totally uninteresting. I have this fic about Johanna that I’ll probably never finish where the point sort of is that, yeah, her life really isn’t all that much better after the war. It’s been years at this point and she’s still miserable and she doesn’t know how to be a person but by the end she’s trying to figure it out. And towards the end, Peeta tells her that he’s spent years sort of passively, half-heartedly trying to figure out how to inherit the land his family’s bakery was on, only to find out it was never theirs in the first place. They’d been renting it the whole time and he’d never even known as a kid. So he sort of passively, half-heartedly went on another wild goose chase to find the owner and now, finally, after years of writing to various government agencies and being sent in circles and things being barely functional, he’s managed to track down the owner. Now it’s owned by the daughter of the man who owned it when he was a kid because the original owner (who was likely up to some sketchy war crime shit) died during the war and she inherited it (the irony…). He got in contact with her and asked how much it would take for her to sell it and she told him she’s not interested in selling but in light of the situation, in light of the fact that he’d have to build a new building in order to operate a bakery, that she’d cut him a deal— she’d only require 50% of the bakery’s profits as rent instead of the 80% his family used to pay. And of course Johanna is outraged, that’s not right, the owner shouldn’t be allowed to do that, they should do something about it, they should fight back. And Peeta is like. Not interested. He was actually sort of relieved that opening wasn’t very feasible. Getting the answer was a lightbulb moment where he saw that over the years of trying to look into this, he’s built a life that he likes— one where he’s stable, where his loved ones are stable, where he’s cared for and can care for others— and he doesn’t really want to change it drastically by opening a bakery anyway. He just needed an answer, one way or another, before he could get some closure and move on. (And the point of the conversation is Johanna is having her own lightbulb moment that it’s okay to move on, it’s okay to change, it’s not a betrayal of the people and things she’s lost but that’s not my point here!!).

But anyway. That’s obviously not about running the bakery— it’s about the choice to not run one.

Anyway!! Anyway… are you satisfied anon? Is this what you wanted?

Lastly, here is my most important qualm with the bakery headcanon: must Peeta be gainfully employed? Is it not enough for him to be Katniss’s boytoy? Can’t he just paint and garden and bake and hang out with his girlfriend all day? Is that really too much to ask?

[oracleact]

You can totally choose to look past this cuz it might be a lot (Tw trauma?) I just got Carried, you know when Carrie (from the movie) she gets a bucked full of blood over her head on prom? A guy asked me out and to my surprise, I was blessed with ketchup, eggs and flour by him and his friends, the subway didn’t let me in and no Uber would accept me getting in a car, so I had to walk home. No one asked me what was wrong

I’m still processing that actually happened,. I’m assuming it’s bc of my weight, I’m tall and overweight, I mainly keeps things to myself, am a introvert, idk what other thing could be a reason besides my body. Could you please write a comfort scenario with the tmnt boys? Or one of them, you can choose, Could be platonic, romantic, idk, just reader (who’s usually friendly but don’t talk much about their romantic life cuz they don’t feel like it’s worth investing time, and when they finally decide to change that, thst happens) crying as a mess in front of them for the first time, saying they are tired of living in a body that feels more of a curse than anything,

It’s a lot, I know, you can delete this if you aren’t comfortable doing it (I’m 100% serious)

Thank you Eitherway and hope you have a good day

first of all, I’m so sorry that happened to you. back in high school, I was doused after classes so I can definitely understand your pain here. they are absolutely pathetic for even thinking about doing that to someone; they are total assholes because they acted on it too and I wish for it to haunt them one day when (or if) they mature. you did amazing on your way home that day - I hope that, with time, things will get better for you. you deserve great things. I haven’t written anything with all of the boys before but I wanted to give it a try for you to cheer you up. I wish you well, and I hope you can find comfort in our wonderful turtles!

« got your back »

tmnt x reader / angst + fluff

notes: 1.6k words, all turtles included, platonic relationship, gender neutral reader (no pronouns used,) first person pov, I was thinking of 2012 tmnt while writing this but it probably fits with most iterations.

I can’t believe I’m walking home in the dark, completely covered in miscellaneous goop. I’m glad I didn’t tell anyone about the date that was supposed to happen tonight because, if someone saw me right now, I don’t know what I would do. no public transport let me on covered in eggs and flour, the same for taxis, so now I’m stuck dragging myself home by my own two feet. they are awfully heavy despite my hurry to get back which doesn’t seem fair at all - it’s like my body is laughing at me in equal measure to the rest of the crowd back there.

put your head down and keep walking, put your head down and keep walking, put your—

“hey guys, look!” I stop in my tracks as soon as I hear that voice echo through the night sky. it sounded too much like mikey to simply ignore it.

“mikey, for the last time, shh! ninjas, remember?” that was definitely leo. they all must be up on a roof somewhere but I don’t dare to look up. my feet won’t move anymore regardless, they’re refusing to pick up and run. my body really does hate me tonight huh?

“mikey is right though, look down - hey there!” I slowly crane my neck towards the sound of their chatters and am met with possibly the worst sight I could see at this exact moment: all four of my mutant friends standing on a nearby roof, just as I suspected.

“hi everyone,” I give an awkward wave as they stare down at me.

“want to meet up at the entrance to the lair to hang? we’re just heading back,” raph calls out.

I need a plan, and fast.

thankfully, they can’t see that I’m covered in mush from where they are, but if I go to the lair then that will change. however, if I say ‘no’ to hanging out with them then they’ll get suspicious anyway and follow after me. they’re my best friends, my favourite thing in the whole world is hanging out with them. even if I genuinely can’t hang out we still find a loophole to be together.

either of these choices leaves me doomed to talk about this disaster of a night eventually so…

“sure, you go ahead and I’ll be there in a second.”

…I go with option one.

I knew the boys would get there first so I’ve had more time to come up with some lame lie before I face them: one point to me. I slap on a brave face and a ridiculously wide smile in the hopes that it would distract them from what I have going on all over my clothes. taking a deep breath, I turn the final corner to enter the lair.

“hey bud!” mikey bursts through the rest of the guys and comes skipping towards me. I freeze and simply wait for him to see me in the light. “woah, what happened to you?”

after hearing mikey’s question, everyone starts to crowd in around me, thinking I had been hurt or something on the way here. to their surprise, I have no cuts or scrapes…just a bunch of different types of produce in my hair. they begin to mutter more questions but my mind is too hazy to hear them clearly, opting to stand there and stare into the space behind them. leo notices me zoning out pretty quickly and leads me to the seating area in the middle of the lair by my arm, the rest of the boys following with worry in their eyes.

I sit down on the couch; raph bends down in front of me, donnie sits on my right, mikey hangs over the back of the couch to lean on my left, and leo rests his hands on my shoulders from behind me.

“who did this to you? I’ll kill them, I’ll punch them into the ground I swear to god—“

“raph, calm down. we need to know what happened first before we start going haywire.” I’ve never seen donnie look so aggravated before. it looks like he secretly wants to join in with raph’s immediate anger instead of acting ‘rationally’ this time.

“no need for punching anyone or anything ha! I— uh— tripped while I was walking home and fell straight into a pile of garbage surrounding a dumpster. how clumsy of me ha! I’m so silly. I wasn’t watching where I was going and it was dark so…” my words trail off as I finally look directly at my friends. none of them are believing this story at all.

“tell us the truth, it’s alright. you’re safe here.” leo speaks with such a warm tone, it makes holding back my tears even harder than it already was.

“I’m fine! I promise I’m fine, really I just tripped!” I force my lips into a thin line, trying to twist them into some kind of smile, until mikey pokes at my cheek. I turn to him.

“please tell us what’s wrong.” is he giving me puppy eyes? damn it mikey…

I couldn’t push back my tears any longer and the flood gates exploded. I was in hysterics, sobbing so loudly it bounced off the walls of the lair. I couldn’t stop, each sob rippled through me and I felt like I couldn’t breathe. the boys cooed at me, all of them placing a hand somewhere on my body to ground me and to let me know that I’m not alone as I cried. they tried still asking me questions but I couldn’t get out any words, only heartbreaking whimpers left my mouth. they accepted their fate of silent sobs though and simply stayed beside me.

after a while, I’ve calmed down slightly, and I see the boys look at each other and nod in the corner of my blurry eyes. then, all of a sudden, raph and leo run off. they come back not long after with a basin of water, towels and some other things that I can’t quite see cradled in their large hands. my curiosity is answered in a split second though as the four begin to wipe away the dirt that covers me, still allowing me to ride out my cries in the meantime.

raph gets back into his bent position to gently clean my face, donnie and mikey clean down my arms, and leo starts to brush my hair the best that he can. it must be a brush that april keeps here at the lair, since I don’t think I’ve left one here before.

they continued like this - softly wiping and rinsing - until they were sure that they had done all they can do to rid me of this sticky mess, and until I was able to stabilise my breathing and speak somewhat clearly again.

“april is going to be mad that you got ketchup on her hairbrush,” I say lowly between hiccups. leo laughs and assures me that the brush is perfectly fine; no need to worry.

it is silent (apart from the sound of my sniffling) while they put down their tools and clear them away from the couch, until donnie speaks, “we don’t want to push you to talk but we are here to listen if you want to.”

maybe it is finally time to talk about it. as much as I don’t want to, I think I need to. I’m always the one with a bright smile and cheery attitude but I need to let that go for now. I need comfort, and I need to admit that to myself - even if it’s for this singular moment.

I begin to explain the story of the date and how it went terribly wrong - just the vital details to build the story rather than adding my feelings about it. being vulnerable like this isn’t my strong point so I need to prepare myself to talk about that part with truth and from the heart.

I can see the pure rage in raph’s eyes as he sits in front of me, his teeth grinding together and a low growl coming out of him. he goes to say something but donnie stops him with a hand on his shoulder. he gives red a pat and he seems to understand what he is signalling, inhaling and exhaling with his eyes closed before fixing his posture to listen to me again.

“you know, I don’t know if I want raph to rough up him or rough up me at this point,” I let out a laugh to try and soften the atmosphere but the expressions of the boys tell me that it didn’t work. they look confused; sad. “a good rough up might fix whatever is wrong with me, because it’s obviously me. look at me! why else would he have made plans to humiliate me like that? what do I need to punch into shape - the way I look? the way I act?” I laugh again with the same intent as earlier despite knowing that it is going to do nothing to lessen the impact of my words.

“did he specifically make you feel like that?” raph says through gritted teeth, “that you’re not good enough?”

“no, I guess I’ve been feeling that way for a while. he just made it worse - a lot worse.” my eyes start to burn again with more tears. I’m surprised I’m not dehydrated yet.

mikey grabs my face in his hands, his eyes also look clouded with tears, “you are so beautiful. really, you are. I remember when I first saw you I was like ‘woah, they’re even prettier than the humans I see on tv!’ you don’t need to change anything about the way you look, I can tell you that for sure.”

“nor do you need to change anything about your personality or how you act,” donnie chimes in. “why do you think we like you so much? you’re awesome! you’re smart, kind, caring, plus you treat us like we’re golden and we’re literally in the sewers right now,” we all giggle at the last statement he makes.

leo pats me on the head, signally me to look up towards him, “you are the greatest friend we could have ever asked for, and if we need to remind you of that more then we will. you deserve to feel that you’re worthy and loved and I can tell you with certainty that you are when you’re here with us. there’s no need to hide from us, we’ve got you’re back.”

raph grabs my hand, “and seriously, if you want us to go and talk to that guy we will.”

“raph!” the others shout. I laugh at the slight panic hiding in their voices - it’s fully directed at their brother and his fists.

“what?! I said talk not bash into the ground so what do you want from me?!”

[astrodoll2]

🧜🏻‍♀️Astrology observations part 3🧜🏻‍♀️

I know so many cancer risings drawn to the moon and love the moon which makes sense since they’re ruled by the moon but if it is at 29° I notice they tend to love the sun much more or prefer day vs night which might be bc it is a leo degree or because they were just minutes away from being a leo rising which is ruled by the sun, they might also relate more to the description of a leo rising

11th house stellium with Lilith and Aquarius signature on the inside I had a hard time learning to accept myself because I always felt weird and like I couldn’t fit in with other people, no matter how hard I tried I could not “act normal” I felt like I always said the wrong things which would make me later on regret speaking and I also had a hard time accepting my sexuality. It’s been a journey learning to be authentic without the need of approval.

Sun square moon, sun square Uranus, moon conjunct Uranus can you tell I had emotionally unavailable parents who had a hard time getting along🫠

I love saturn energy I just feel like I can relate to them, they aren’t boring they probably just had a difficult childhood and had to learn to mature/grow quickly so they don’t let alot of people in because of that which doesn’t allow most people to see who they really are underneath the serious exterior, they’re also just so reliable and dependable which I really appreciate because I encounter way too many people who aren’t, you guys are really slept on but I guess that means more for me:)

Mercury square Mars 🤝🏻 impulsively let’s their anger out onto others then later comes to regret it and feel bad when they’ve calmed down

^Also Mercury square mars can come off unintentionally aggressive/rude without realizing it because they are so frank and to the point especially if Mercury is in an earth or fire sign

Sagittarius placements are always into that bohemian/hippie style which is really fitting since they’re ruled by jupiter they also always give me the vibe of someone with a yellow aura and they have such pretty smiles

Eros conjunct ascendant I have this and I can vouch for y’all we’re hot✋🏻 😔

Apollo in the 1st house gives off sun/leo energy loving to stand out and show off your beauty

Mars conjunct neptune 🤝🏻 your energy being so magnetic but in a mystical way it’s like you really draw people in to your own little world

Prominent Neptune in your chart aspects to mars/venus/moon may not need a physical relationship so it can be long distance or just someone you don’t see as often simply because they love to fantasize about them and they know it’s better in their heads than reality so they might try to keep a distance to keep the idealization going in their head

Mercurial dominant men 🤝🏻 attractive slender man

Synastry/composite

Fire dominant composite chart can bring so much passion to the relationship you might feel very energetic with this person

Pisces moon and Venus composite gets a bad rep for having unrealistic expectations for the relationship but I think these are really cute placements the relationship is so dreamy and you really do get those butterflies everytime you see or speak to them it’s like it doesn’t matter if you talk everyday or haven’t spoken in years once you’re together those feelings come back because they’ll never fully disappear I feel like you will always have a soft spot for this person and the relationship you had

South node in the 4,7,8,12 could signify past life connections, you might feel as if you’ve known them forever

Someone’s ascendant falling in your 3rd house can really almost make you see that person either as a sibling/family or as if you’ve known them since your childhood regardless they will feel very familiar and warm/comforting to be around

Having 8th house placements both in synastry and the composite chart god good luck you will most likely end up obsessed with that person or the relationship and you might not even know why you like them so much or what keeps pulling you back but it’s like a never ending cycle of being drawn back to them (could be karmic so be mindful of that)

[monstersinthecosmos]

When you rbed my vampire psych post, you tagged something about Armand’s “trauma hole.” I must know - what is Armand’s Trauma Hole? Devastate me, Kacy.

I WANNA SAY BEFORE I START btw if I had money and wasn’t in the US I’d go to college for psychology strictly to write vampire meta lmfao but yknow what, I don’t have a formal education and I just listen to a lot of psych podcasts and I AM, MYSELF, SOMEONE WITH A TRAUMA HOLE so that’s my qualifications here LOL. 

So I have sort of a running headcanon called The Trauma Hole Theory and like it’s not completely solid so don’t take my word on this but it’s a fun thought experiment.

It comes down to two questions: Do vampires have neuroplasticity? and: Does The Blood know to fix neurological differences? *

*(This point in particular is a whole separate topic because I’d said that the vampires’ neurobiology IN ITSELF makes them neurodivergent, as in, operating differently from the average human. But neurodivergence isn’t a thing that needs to be healed or cured, simply a difference in structure, but I wonder if The Blood categorizes differences in brain structure due to trauma as an injury?)  

And the thing is like, we’re never going to have an answer because it’s not something Anne planned around. Even like starting with the Mayfair books and going into all her weird cosmic questions in her later life she always talked about biology & medicine like it was magic LOL so who knows. I wish I’d had the chance to ask her this!

But to be more specific, I need to know: Is the Blood able to cure what’s wrong with your brain, or does it freeze your brain exactly how it is?

I can make arguments for both because there isn’t an answer in canon and if you start fine combing you’re going to find a lot of conflicting evidence. We can also handwave this away as “the Dark Gift is different for everyone!”

Claudia is one of my favorite examples to look at, because we have to ask: Is she a monster because she doesn’t remember being human or is it because her brain development got frozen where she wasn’t awesome at empathy yet? A lot of studies say children have empathy by the time they’re 4, so maybe she’s in the clear! But how much of her early life and development were stunted by malnourishment?

This also gets into the canon that some of the vampires who were turned younger are a bit wilder, less impulse control, etc. Lestat, as an example of a permanent 20 year old with poor decision making faculties, vs. Marius who although sometimes cruel, has the patience to play the long game. In canon it often gets framed that it’s about the deeper experience of being human but I wonder a lot about how it interacts with brain structure. I’d also ask how much of this is simple behavior that they can learn to correct if they want to. Like, is CBT effective for vampires if there’s nothing physically wrong with their brains? 

(Anyway I need a psych degree to understand more about how brains work and like, the nuances of how undead vampire brains work where they still clearly FUNCTION but like, I need to know which parts are frozen, how their emotions work, why do they have super photographic memories and telepathy and new powers but we assume their prefrontal cortex is stuck at their mortal age of development how does that affect the overall brain function!?!?! I'm making shit up to fit my angst headcanon needs to don't @ me LOL.) ((Hekate you in particular should weigh in with your headcanons bc you're smarter about this stuff than me!!!!!! I'm just a lowly angst headcanon troll!!!))

So anyway like, trauma causes neurological damage/structural changes to the brain. It reshapes your ability to see logic. I’m sure if you’re having sort of acute panic in the moment of being turned, and your amygdala is poppin and your brain is full of cortisol, maybe the Blood takes care of that because it’s temporary. But when you look at someone like Armand, who had endured years of trauma before he was turned, I wonder how much of that more complex/long term trauma is just wired into his brain.

SO THE TRAUMA HOLE AND THE QUESTION ABOUT NEUROPLASTICITY IS:

If the Blood fixed Armand’s brain where it was, can he ever truly heal from it? 

There’s a thing in real life with HUMANS recovering from trauma that sometimes we are so unable to accept that Things Are Okay that we’re constantly on guard or create problems. If Armand permanently has that space in his head telling him that it’s dangerous, that something is wrong, that people are using him; is he always going to find ways to fill that hole and create drama?

Living in squalor for 300 years in a cult felt like a way to stay with this feeling, to not allow himself to even try for safety and happiness. In the Theatre, even trying to be better, he still allowed himself to partake in atrocities. 

And with Daniel? Gradually allowing himself to feel things even though he’d been reckless with his pet? But really trying? 

Even after finally turning Daniel it became a self-fulfilling prophecy; he believed he wouldn’t be a good maker and I have to wonder if he actually tried or if he just allowed that anxiety to dictate his behavior.

In Trinity Gate it’s like he’s doing his best to be domestic but still takes this role of running the household and keeping everyone safe. He’s got these crazy secure crypts in the basement. He’s the only one who wants to kill the replimoids. 

Marius tells him that he has the ✨savage & ignorant soul of a child✨ AND ?????? HE’S NOT WRONG? EXCEPT IT’S SUCH A SHITTY WAY TO PUT IT. He’s just still very much his wounded inner child trying to navigate danger at all times. 

CBT could still work on vampires, I think, in terms of teaching them a set of rules to follow. It wouldn’t be unlike teaching them to mask. But if it’s not something that can be healed, we can always assume that if Armand is behaving, he’s just going through the motions for the benefit of the people he loves, and not that he’s less hurt and uncomfortable on the inside. 

:) 

[menalez]

Tbh I think a lot of lesbians on here have a kind of performative disgust for men. It makes sense seeing as this is radblr and everybody hates men here anyway. But the whole “ugh men are disgusting and hideous and seeing a shirtless man literally makes me want to puke” is… extreme to the point where I’d nearly say this is a result of trauma (not being a lesbian, but having this level of disgust for men).

Like, I’m a lesbian and I’m not disgusted by men at all. I just have absolutely zero sexual interest in them. I obviously wouldn’t want to interact with one sexually in any way but most of my friends are men and I see them shirtless at the beach regularly. My brothers as well. I don’t think any of them are disgusting. When pictures of the latest handsome male celeb come up on my timeline I just scroll by, I barely even notice them. I don’t go “ugh how dare anybody make me look at this hideous mess!”. I have gay male friends who aren’t disgusted by female bodies in the slightest, they just, again, don’t want sex with them. I don’t want to see men naked or whatever but I wouldn’t literally feel sick if I saw one, I’d just be like “lol”. I also can objectively see how somebody could find certain men handsome, cause I understand symmetry and fitness and what humans find attractive. Not cause I literally find them attractive myself.

Just… based on any gay ppl I know in real life I feel like this unbelievable performative level of disgust for the opposite sex is in some way a response to your sexuality being constantly questioned (which I understand) and feeling the need to affirm yourself and prove to everybody that you’re actually gay. Like if I saw a woman I wasn’t at all attracted to naked I wouldn’t be like “ew puke omg disgusting”, I’d be like “whatever”. The whole “men are NPCs” to me feels like it’s more a product of you being a radfem than being a lesbian. And I say this as a lesbian who is also a radfem.

to me seeing men irl that are shirtless doesn’t bother me bc i will just look away. i don’t want to look nor do i care to look, if i make myself look then ill probably eventually be grossed out by it bc im sitting there staring at a male body. no thanks. but if someone is asking me to look and im being treated like this is objectively attractive, i do feel immensely disgusted and will say ew to it. in the same way, when i see men on shows that are clearly being put there to evoke a “omg he’s so hot” reaction from women, i feel disgusted. if a man sends me pics of himself, ik he expects me to be into that somehow, im also automatically disgusted. but i don’t walk around shitting puking dying when there’s a shirtless man in my vicinity bc ill simply look away and ignore his presence. my disgust often comes when there’s this expectation of “you should think he’s hot” placed on me, or when im being forced to look at men for prolonged periods, bc then it highlights to me how he’s definitely not at all attractive to me and in fact interacting w him whatsoever would disgust me, so as a result im disgusted. in real life i simply do not even look at men for as long, so i don’t get disgusted, i feel purely neutral.

i can also understand (not often but from time to time i can see it) why some women find some men attractive. 99% of the time i don’t, but also ive paid attention to what is considered attractive and can then be like okay he does meet the attractive criteria i guess. most times tho i don’t even understand why women find random men attractive at all and it’s baffling to me 😭

also u can think im pretending if u want dhdhshs most times i don’t literally want to throw up, i don’t think i said i do, but i do often think they’re v ugly bc they are. men being NPCs to me has always been the case im afraid, nothing to do with radical feminism there. if something is very male-centric i simply get bored.

[rreskk]

heyyy ! im super curious to know who u'd match me up with if ur still doing these x))

im short (5'1-3" i think), bi, filipino, have glasses and am plus size. i have too much tiddy (G cups,, my back is in constant agony), am also hourglass-ISH shaped but also have a tummy,, also have large arms thx to working construction gigs in the summers (which has also given me a lotta scars on my hands/arms). my hair is a long-ish wolfcut n v dark brown almost black. i have 34 tattoos,, mostly on my arms but a few on my legs. my skintone is pretty tan and my eyes are dark brown

i dress v androgynously,(dont like to appear feminine.) big tshirts, baggy n ripped jeans, flannels, skate shoes, "grandpa sweaters" etc. dont wear jewelry/accessories aside from my piercings (ears and septum) and dont wear makeup

personality wise im v quiet. loooove listening to other ppl talk n not having to talk myself lol. been told im the "mom friend," too many times . been diagnosed with generalized anxiety disorder and major depressive disorder. i also have a lotta trouble concentrating and a rlly shit memory bc of past substance abuse issues so day to day life can be a bit difficult but i try to maintain a positive outlook/be optimistic ! i also v rarely get angry (honestly even when i rlly should be)

my music taste is wildly varied LOL but some fav artists are The Go! Team, Death Grips, The Avalanches, Big Thief, Froth, The Murlocs, and King Gizzard and the Lizard Wizard .

aaaaand i think thats abt it ✌️

I match you with… Trevor!

Physical appearance, as far as I concern, is varied between what suits Trevor best and your physique… my oh my, he loves tummies and (as we all know) big tits. Trevor would love all of you, head to toe. He’ll scatter you with love and affection because… he’s simply pleased and very aroused by your overall large arms and one of many tattoos. As a tattoo maniac himself, Trevor’s favourite thing to do is kiss each of your tattoos, every chance he gets.

In response to your aesthetic in general, Trevor doesn’t care about fashion. Although he likes many types of people and tastes, he adores your sense of casualness. Despite having a simple outfit, he likes how it fits around your body. The baggy shirts? He’ll sneak up behind you and shove his hands up like the devil he is. Trevor finds many ways to express his… odd affections, even if that’s getting under your skin… (getting under your clothes).

Ahhh… sensing your ‘mother’ vibe, he is immediately drawn. Wise, quiet, nervous. The opposite of him… but he loves it. Trevor finds comfort in you. His chaos cannot be balanced without your presence. He needs you around him at all times or he’ll go insane, literally. Having someone introverted and quite reasonable makes him all giddy. He sees you as someone he can trust and rely on, something he missed during childhood and later life. You replace his internal worries.

When encountering your history of substance abuse, Trevor understands. He has the tendencies to go… overboard with his own addictions, however, just like how protective he is over Jimmy and alcohol, he’ll keep a close eye on you. Because you are caring and loving toward him, Trevor feels the need to return this efforts and he will by supporting you through the thick and thin. He may be the last person on earth to be good at comforting but he knows how to make you laugh.

Besides… he’ll teach you how to use your anger correctly ;)

Joking. DONT TRUST TREVOR WITH ANGER. Moving on…

Trevor finds your music taste unique. He listens to more… typical angry punk but after hearing your varied songs, he’ll sometimes… just sometimes dig the vibe. You’ll have to catch him on a good day.

(A/N: Thank you for requesting! I’m intrigued with the tattoos! What’s your fav one? I love tattoos hahah)

[borderline-gays-club]

So not entirely BPD related…

But honestly everything is BPD related cus that’s how I view and interact with the world.

Anyway preface done. Lol. But god as im working in the restaurant industry again, on the other side of my own rock bottom(s), im looking at everyone like, fuck. Capitalism TRULY destroys ppls imagination and spirit. It’s so sad to witness.

When I’m bored as shit at work (which is most of the time lol) I just ask my coworkers random questions, and one is simply, what do u want to do with ur life? And god…the responses I’ve gotten are fuckin sad.

I got a literal nothing. I want to do nothing. Just lay and do nothing. I got I want to end it now (which ngl I kinda laughed cus I feel that deep in me. The mood is real). And I mean that one was half serious. And then someone else just said my hobby is spending money lmao. And this was an adjacent question of, wat wud u want to do for work instead of this and they said factory work cus it sounds meditative.

The only person with a genuine hope for life is this one boy who’s the youngest in FOH and he wants to open a restaurant and is actually passionate abt it. I hope to god he doesn’t lose that light cus fuck we all need it. It’s so bleak to hear all these sad ass answers.

It’s just like everyone just truly gave up and are just stuck in this hellish cycle of make money, spend money rinse and repeat. There’s no ability to imagine a different and better life. At least not realistically. And I was there too not very long ago: I remember thinking, I’m just gonna do this my whole life and was like watever abt it. I didn’t have plans, I didn’t have any real goals. I didn’t care abt anything.

And it took an immense amt of pain and work to get to where I’m at now and I can look at my surroundings with a different lens now. And I’m starting to fully concretely see the patterns of the type of ppl that end up in this work (including where I currently fit in and where I used to).

But god I’m beyond words with how I’m so grateful for all the events that lead me up to this point where I have regained my imagination for life and joy. Bc I was literally spiritually dead for so long. I think bc my emotional instability was so visible and erratic (thanx BPD), that I simply couldn’t ignore it. And also I was seen as the unstable mentally ill one. Like a special case.

But the more I look at ppl I’m like…I’m truly not a special case at all. Everyone’s fucking sick in the head. They just don’t see it or don’t want to see it. And also different presentations of different problems will b accepted or not. (Easiest example being; alcoholism as an addiction is socially accepted and even celebrated whereas a meth addiction for example is seen as marginal and deplorable). So most ppls mental illness is simply acceptable or the norm when really everyone’s sick.

But I guess myself being seen as “too much” made me believe that I needed help. But it’s like…we all need collective help. This country is literally strategically making us all sicker by the day. It truly feels like a weird nightmare that I still want to exist in just so I can see the other side of the dream.

[champagneandparacosm-archive]

1, 2, 5, 11, 14, 15

Are there any characters in your fandom or faceclaims you refuse to RP with? Who and why?

Not really. It’s dependent on my muses preference honestly. They each have a different type, and if the face claim doesn’t fit the type, I’ll say no and try to offer a character that would be interested !

Are there any plot tropes you are sick of/refuse to RP? If so, what are they and why?

I don’t really refuse any, there are some I tend to avoid. I’m not really a big kid lover. So I’ve been avoiding any child plots bc my muses reflect my hatred for them! XD

Have you ever RP’d with someone simply because of their character’s faceclaim, even if you did not like their character’s personality?

Never for their face claim, but I have written with a character I didn’t particularly enjoy because they were my mutual’s child and I love them by default!

What’s your biggest pet peeve when it comes to RPing?

Not really a pet peeve but a preference: length. I’ve never allowed shy responses under a paragraph because my brain just can’t grasp the thread and continue it. No hate to anyone who likes shorter threads, but it’s not my jam. I like length. I want to know what your characters are thinking and feeling. If you tell me your character slapped mine in the face but don’t add anything else… I can’t get a read for what’s happening.

“She walked over and slapped him”

Okay and? Why did she slap him? What was she thinking? Does she know he’ll retaliate? What is she feeling that she felt the need to slap him?

“She walked over, a snarl on her lips and a heaping pile of hurt in her eyes. Swallowed, bottom lip quivering in anger. How dare he? How fucking dare he!! Forgetting their anniversary?! Going to dinner with his boss instead! She could have killed him then and there. She contemplated it. Instead, and with the highest regard of her composure- she reeled back and slapped him across the cheek, inhaling sharply as if she was the one being hit. “Fuck. You.” She grit.

See the difference? Now I know what your character is feeling. And I can better my response. Xx

Without naming anyone specific, have you ever avoided someone simply because they RP with one of your RP partners? If so, why?

No! Usually, if they write with my mutual- I want to write with them too because I know they must be good! ! !

Without naming anyone, have you ever refused/simply avoided another RPer in the fandom because of things you’ve heard others say about them, or because of their popularity? If so, why did you feel the need to?

Not really. Usually I just get an overall vibe when seeing their page and I’ll decide myself if I think we’ll match or not. :)

[1kook]

dreamy

—pjm x (f) reader

summary; You try to not let it get to you, but Jimin is so cool and you want him to be your boyfriend so bad. warnings; ANGST lol, fwb, reader is very :(( rating; mature (18+) bc tiny smut lol  misc; small smut scene, a happy ending <3 wc; 2.5k

notes; i have to post on #JIMIN’s bday or else i cannot live with myself anyway here’s me trying to fit an entire novella plot line in less than 5k words clap for me except maybe don't bc its not proofread anyway hbd jimin <3

Jimin is a nice guy, but you doubt he’d make a nice boyfriend. He fucks you hard and fast, just as you like, but hardly goes out of his way to sprinkle in any other requests. He’s got a one track mind, doesn’t dwell too long on what you say or how you’re feeling. Doesn’t matter because he’s just supposed to be a fuck buddy, the hot guy you met at a party, so you don’t let it phase you. But, well. Jimin is dreamy.

Sometimes he holds your hand while he eats you out and it sends your thoughts into a frenzy, makes your heart pound a little too fast to brush it off as just arousal. He’s got this gorgeous smile, plush lips framing pearly teeth, and when he flashes it your way, it makes your knees weak. Tells you you’re pretty when he picks you up from class, always holds your hand on the way to his place for your routine fuck. Cute and nice like an angel, but just like an angel, he hardly gives a shit about anyone’s feelings but his own.

He laughs when you ask him to hang out that weekend.

“What, like a date?” he snorts, bare chest glistening from his post-fuck exertion. You're pressed against his side now, circling his pretty brown nipple with your finger. “That’s corny.”

You try to not let it get to you, but Jimin is so cool and you want him to be your boyfriend so bad. “Yeah, silly right,” you murmur, ear pressed to his heart. It’s calming and soothing, a slow thrum that contrasts with your own racing heart.

He’s not one for dates or for romantic things like that. But neither is he some player, a cheater, a two-timer. You can count the number of times he’s slept with someone who wasn’t you in your weird fuck buddy relationship, and all four of those had been when you first started sleeping together and only when you had been out of town. You’re no saint either, so you try to understand. He was just horny, liked getting his dick wet, and sometimes he couldn’t wait for you. Understandable, you tell yourself, but your heart hurts a little bit when he begins snoring without really answering your question.

See the thing is, you really like Jimin. It’s been a little over a year now since you’ve met, so you’ve had plenty of time to learn all about him. He doesn’t like pancakes for breakfast, prefers them for lunch actually, and laughs when you tell him that’s weird. He’s got this really dorky laugh, something between a bell and a whistle— it depends on the situation. Sometimes, Jimin likes when you play with his hair, and other times he doesn’t. He’s a sweet boy, you know he is, so why won’t he settle down?

You hate to attribute it to some past trauma, some “my girlfriend broke my heart when I was seventeen” mess, but the more time that passes you begin to believe it’s true. Jimin was a tough nut to crack, and the longer this drags on, the longer he ignores your feelings, you begin to doubt you will ever see them fulfilled.

Maybe you should end this now before it’s too late.

You don’t stay for breakfast the next morning, simply kiss him goodbye at the door like always. He’s older than you, about two years, so he doesn’t go to school anymore, just chills at home all weekend. “I’ll see you soon?” he grins, low-lidded eyes tracking the movement of your mouth as you bid him adieu. You never give him a solid response, figure a guy like Jimin will forget about you soon enough.

Then, suddenly, it’s been two weeks and he doesn’t reach out. Yeah it hurts, but it’s better than having confessed to him and losing him all at once. You’d rather this ending than the one where he terribly rejects you, breaks your heart into a million pieces, and throws you away. Still, it hurts.

Jimin was so cool. He was smart and confident, had a snappy sort of attitude that he liked to use now and then. He could be mean in bed, lick your cunt until you cried and call you a stupid girl when he wanted to. But that same tongue had snapped at a guy who was trying to pressure you into bed with him at a party. That first night you met, where you had sillily followed him home after his dashing intervention, you had thought it would be nothing more. Just a fling, just a fuck.

But then he was in your bed and in your head, twinkling eyes and cocky grin trailing after you everyday. He was so pretty and so suave, made you feel good even when he was being mean. But you suppose most cocky men like Jimin are like that. They know they don’t disappoint, even when they’re not really trying.

Jimin doesn’t call or text. You don’t see his car pull up outside your campus anymore. He’s gone and that’s that. You cry a little (see: a lot) and pretend you’re over him. You definitely don’t think about his soft laughter or his hands on your chest. Nope.

So that ends.

Or so you think.

Your friends say you’re mopey and sad, too down for someone who wasn’t even your boyfriend. It’s true, which sucks, but they honor your admittance by taking you out to a bar that night. It’s supposed to be chill and relaxing, just some drinks with the girls to soothe your aching heart. But the name of the bar reminds you of something, of someone you can’t reach anymore, and you don’t even know why. You’ve never been here before, never even knew this place existed. But everything about it brings you back to Jimin, like you’re in his space now, and you’re unsure why.

It reminds you of his laugh, his smile, to the point you swear you can hear it, right beside you, down the bar, to your left—

He waves.

There’s this look he used to give you every time he picked you up from your last class, this mix between adoration and lust that made your skin tingle with excitement. It’s not there now, in fact, it’s replaced with the complete opposite. It’s, like, the meanest look he can muster, something akin to a scowl. He smiles, but it’s so plastic-y and fake, it makes your head hurt. He’s so obviously unimpressed with you, probably because you ghosted him before he could ghost you. Maybe his pride is hurt and looking at you grosses him out. Maybe he just hates you.

Either way, eleven pm rolls around and you’re crying in the bathroom. Your friends are out on the floor having fun and singing karaoke. They think you’ve gone inside because you got your period, because that’s what you’ve told them. You don’t know how to explain that your ex who isn’t really your ex is out there looking at you like you’re a piece of gum stuck under his shoe. They’ve never even met Jimin. Why? Because he wasn’t your boyfriend. Who meets their friend’s fuck buddy? No one.

You sniffle, press a balled up tissue against your eyes in a feeble attempt to save your makeup. The bar isn’t that small, but neither is it huge. There’s only a few bathrooms in the back, and you’ve been hogging one of them for some time now. Someone knocks on the door, and you don’t even get the chance to ward them off before the crappy knob jingles and the door bursts open.

“Come on,” he grumbles, “you’re not the only one who’s gotta piss—“

He pauses, meets your eye through the mirror in surprise. “I’m sorry,” you blubber, hurriedly washing your hands in an effort to avoid his gaze. Jimin lingers at the door, which has long since fallen shut, and watches you with the eyes of a hawk. Your hands tremble and shake, fumble over the towel dispenser three times before you’re hastily making your escape. “Sorry,” you mutter again, head downcast as you move around him for the door.

Just as it cracks open, the music from outside filtering in, he slams it shut with a flat palm. You flinch, close in on yourself as he steps behind you. “What’re you doing here, doll?” he murmurs, deep yet careful. Tentative. “You don’t like bars.”

You know you don’t like bars. You didn’t know he knew that. “I’m with some friends,” you explain, jump when a hand touches your shoulder. “I— I’ll leave soon.”

A second attempt for the door is thwarted by Jimin. “Don’t,” he startles, breath heavy against your ear. “Don’t leave again…” he sighs, forehead against your shoulder. And then, quietly, “why did you leave me?”

Your heart syncs up with the music outside, thunders in your ears as you purse your lips. You don’t want to talk about it now, don’t want to confess to these emotions that drown you. Especially not when he’ll never understand nor will he ever care. It’s best to leave it as is, you convince yourself, slowly shrugging him off.

“We don’t want the same things,” you reply, eyes burning with the need to cry like a baby. But it’ll weaken your argument, make you look like the sentimental girl you know he won’t like. “It wouldn’t work anyway.”

The hand on your shoulder jerks you around, makes a gasp catch in your throat when he crowds you against the door. He’s got that same glare on from before, the one he had sent you across the bar earlier, and it makes your lower lip tremble when it’s this close. “You never asked me what I wanted,” he hisses.

It is then that you realize it isn't anger or disgust, but frustration that paints his features. It’s pure, unadulterated confusion and distress on his pretty face, furrowed brows and narrowed eyes pointed your way. You don’t know what it means, don’t know what he wants. “I,” you choke, weakly covering your face with your hand before he can see you crumble. “I just wanted you.”

Jimin deflates, steps closer until his body is pressed against yours, hands on your shoulders. “And you have me, doll,” he murmurs, bumps his nose against yours. “Always have.”

You shake your head, choke on a sob that bubbles up your throat. “No, not like that,” you stress, losing yourself in the emotions you spent so much time bottling up. “I wanted more.”

Jimin shushes you, guides your head into the crook of his neck where you paint his skin in dark mascara tears. “Is this about the date?” he sighs, patting your head gently.

“It’s more than just the date,” you cry, fists curling into the material of his shirt until it rumples beyond repair. He doesn’t understand.

Jimin nods, let’s you cry and sob until you’re feeling better and someone else is pounding at the door, yelling at you two to get a proper room. You don’t want a room, you only want his heart. 

He takes you home again, helps you out of your shoes at the door because you’re still sensitive and quiver like a leaf when you walk. His bedroom is familiar, smells like him and his detergent. You miss it so much, want to savor it once more. Something in your gut says this is the last time, this is just Jimin getting one last fuck out of you before he really abandons you.

So you cry when he sits down on the edge of the bed. He hasn’t even said anything, hasn’t even taken his socks off yet, but you’re already a mess.

And of course he’s there to catch you, tugs you between his legs to look up at you as if you’ve hung the stars in the sky. “Don’t cry,” he whispers, reaching up to brush away your tears. But it’s not your fault that he looks like that right before he’s going to break your heart.

He’s so cool, even when you’re falling apart in his hands. “You don’t want me,” you sniffle, let him guide you onto his lap. “You just want to fuck and that’s it.”

Jimin leans his forehead against yours, warm breath washing over your skin. “I never said that,” he murmurs. “We’ve been over this.”

You huff. “Well you never said you did either,” you snap, rubbing at your eyes.

You cry and cry some more, until your sobs subside and you’re left with the hiccups afterwards. Jimin maneuvers you beside him, lets your hair spill across the sheets as he lays you down. They smell just like him, make your head spin when he kisses your cheek softly. “I want you,” he confesses. “I want this.”

You shake your head vehemently. “No, you don’t,” you sniff, but you’re not so sure. It’s what you’ve been telling yourself for the longest. Hearing him say otherwise sounds weird, even if he’s saying what you want to hear. “You don’t.”

Jimin catches your hand in his, pins it to the mattress. “I want you to be mine,” he adds, swallows your cries of denial with his lips. He kisses softly, and for the first time, it feels like he’s paying attention to you. Not your body or your lust, but your heart. “Had me feeling like shit when you didn’t come back. Like I lost something big.”

You still cry when he kisses down your neck, over your chest. His hands pull your clothes off, carefully like you’re a present for him to unwrap. Those plush lips you love so much drown you in kisses, over your tummy and your mound, until they’re buried between your cunt. “You’re mine,” he husks out, hand entwined with yours.

His eyes are dark from down there, long lashes blinking up at you as he dips his tongue in the places you crave him most. It brings you to a shuddering end, has you whimpering his name into the empty air until your toes are curling and you’re coming against his mouth. Jimin has never shied away from you, and doesn’t know, sits up with a hazy look in his eyes as he wipes his face with the back of his hand.

Jimin wastes no time undressing, pushes off that sexy jacket until his lithe body is coming into view, thick thighs and lean abdomen. He slides right into you, holds your knees to your chest as he fucks you like never before. It’s slow and sensual, makes you shiver when he says your name in that low register of his. “Don’t leave again,” he whimpers, cock throbbing between your walls. He’s desperate today, ruts like you’ll slip right between his fingertips. It’s funny because you're the same way, clinging onto his shoulders until you’re practically glued together.

You come and so does Jimin. He pants against your ear, feels so warm and heavy on top of you. He doesn’t say much more that night, just plays with your hair. But he asks you on a date, mentions something about a carnival. “Yes,” you respond right away, because, well.

Jimin was dreamy. Maybe he’d be a good boyfriend.

Copyright © 2020, 1kook on tumblr. absolutely NO reposts allowed.

[whatdoyouwanttobecalled-1]

I've been seeing a lot of posts about this all over social media, and while the majority of them are fine and just people expressing their opinions, a lot of people from both sides of the argument have been saying some really inexcusable stuff (such as telling people on the opposing side to off themselves, etc) and it's really pissing me off. Pls everyone idc if you agree w me or not but at least try to be mature and respectful when engaging in these conversations bc the goal is learning, understanding, tolerance, and cooperation (working together to find solutions to problems that will benefit all of us). So here's my stance on the issue, and feel free to reply, ask questions, or dm me and start a conversation regardless of your veiws. Just be nice! Here's my opinions, based off my own personal experience:

To start off: pansexuality is not inherently biphobic and/or transphobic

Yes, there are pansexuals who are biphobic, and yes they harm the transgender community in that sense. This is because generally pansexuals who are biphobic say they bisexuals are transphobic and essentially invalidate binary trans people's identity as a man or woman by saying that bisexuals are only attracted to cis men and cis women, not trans people. However, the majority of pansexual people do not think this way. Personally (and most of the pansexuals as talked to agree w me), I do not believe that bisexuality is transphobic. Why? Trans women are women, and trans men are men. If you will not date a trans person simply bc they are trans, then you're transphobic, but that has absolutely nothing to do w your sexuality. My own and most people's understanding of bisexuality (and the definition you get if you Google it, and the definition that most bisexuals will give you), is that bisexuality means attraction to 2 or more genders (which yes, could mean all), with a preference. With. A. Preference. I identified as bi to myself for years, and came out as bi for almost a year, never feeling as if the label fully fit me or that I was fully understood by the community bc there is always sm emphasis on the fact that bisexuals have a preference, while I never have. I don't think anyone is less than anyone else for having a preference, or better than anyone else for not having a preference. Pansexuality simply allows me to be apart of a smaller more specific community that fully understands my experience w attraction. I also know that bisexuality can be used as an umbrella term for anyone attracted to 2+ genders, but in the same way that it's not biphobic for lesbians to prefer to date other lesbians bc of their shared experience, I like having a smaller community that specifically experiences attraction in the same way that I do. I've also seen a lot of people talking about how people seem to think that bisexuals only care about sex, and that pansexuals think theyre better bc they're uwu innocent babies. I'm not entirely sure I'm not on the ace spectrum somewhere but lemme tell you that does not make me any less of a whore. No one is better than anyone else for how much or little they think about or enjoy sex.

2nd; bisexuality is not inherently transphobic.

Yes, there are bisexuals who are transphobic, but this is not the majority of the community. Most bi people consider trans women to be real women (which they are) and trans men to be real men (which they are). I will say it again; if you won't date someone just bc they're trans, you are transphobic, but that has nothing to do w your sexuality. As for non binary people, yes, bisexuality includes them too. Bisexuality is not inherently transphobic.

3rd; all mspec labels are fucking valid.

Whether you identify as bisexual, pansexual, omnisexual, or polysexual, you are valid. You can use bisexuality as an umbrella term if that's what you're most comfortable w, or if the definition perfectly describes your relationship w attraction then that's cool too. If you feel that pansexuality, omnisexuality, or polysexuality better describes you and you enjoy having a smaller more specific community to fully relate to, guess what, that's also cool. No one is better than anyone else, and while there are members of every community who feel that they are, they do not represent everyone.

4th; panphobia/omniphobia/polyphobia only comes from the mspec community, if it comes from outside, it's probably biphobia

Let me explain; there is no problem that comes from people who are not attracted to multiple genders that everyone on this spectrum doesn't face. Bisexuality is a spectrum that we all fall on, an umbrella term that we all fit under. This means that unless it's coming from a person or group on this spectrum, it's probably biphobia you're facing. There are 2 types of biphobia: the biphobia that comes from mspecs, and the biphobia that comes from people who aren't on the spectrum of bisexuality. The biphobia that comes from inside is only against people who identify as bisexual, and the biphobia that comes from outside is against anyone who is attracted to multiple genders. I'm not saying there aren't a few instances of people who arent mspec targeting a specific group and not every mspec identity, but most of the time, if it's from the outside, it's classified as biphobia, bc that includes all of us.

In conclusion, this is what the mspec sexualities are and some of my final thoughts;

Bisexuality = attraction to 2+ genders with or without a preference. It can be used as an umbrella term by the whole mspec community, or as a specific label on it's own. It includes trans and non binary people, and is not a transphobic label. There are transphobic bisexuals, but the fact that they are transphobic and the fact that they are bisexual are not related in any way. They are not more or less than any other mspec identity, or sexuality in general.

Pansexuality = attraction to all genders without a preference. It is not biphobic and/or transphobic. There are biphobic and/or transphobic pansexuals but the fact that they are biphobic and/or transphobic is not related to their pansexuality. Many people who identify as bisexual describe their attraction in the same way as pansexuals. This is 100% valid as bisexuality can be used as an umbrella term and the label you identify w is all about your comfort. They are not more or less than any other mspec identity or sexuality in general.

Omnisexuality = attraction to all genders w a preference. It is not biphobic and/or transphobic. There are biphobic and/or transphobic omnisexuals but the fact that they are biphobic and/or transphobic is not related to their omnisexuality. Many people who identify as bisexual describe their attraction in the same way as omnisexuals. This is 100% valid as bisexuality can be used as an umbrella term and the label you identify w is all about your comfort. They are not more or less than any other mspec identity or sexuality in general.

Polysexuality = attraction to more than 2, but not all genders. It is not biphobic and/or transphobic. There are biphobic and/or transphobic polysexuals but the fact that they are biphobic and/or transphobic is not related to their polysexuality. Many people who identify as bisexual describe their attraction in the same way as polysexuals. This is 100% valid as bisexuality can be used as an umbrella term and the label you identify w is all about your comfort. They are not more or less than any other mspec identity or sexuality in general.

Honestly, I think we all get enough hate from inside and outside the lgbtqia+ community and we need to stick together and have each others backs. It's not the microlabels that are causing problems, it's the exclusionists. Invalidating eo's experiences and saying that biphobia is a bigger problem, panphobia is a bigger problem, omniphobia is a bigger problem, or polyphobia is a bigger problem, isn't gonna help anyone or solve anything. We can have slightly different experiences and still relate and support eo. Also, even if you have a problem w a specific label, pls just ask your questions genuinely, and try to understand the opposing side. Just have a mature conversation. If you're too young or immature to do that then you probably shouldn't be on social media. Calling eo names and telling eo to off ourselves isn't helping anything and there is no excuse for it. I've always loved the lgbtqia+ community for it's love and acceptance, but the more active I become within the community itself, the more I realise how toxic it can be. Sometimes I'm genuinely embarrassed to part of this community. Especially when it's grown adults acting like children that is causing the problems. Pls do better. Thank you for your time, thank you for reading, I love you, have a nice day!!!

Also I just want to add that ik there are more mspec identities than this, and you're all so valid. These are just the sexualities that ik enough about to give a proper statement on and the ones I've seen mentioned in this discourse the most. I'm actively trying to learn more about the mspec identities I mentioned, and those that I didn't. Pls feel free to give me any info on any sexuality (doesn't even have to be mspec I just want to learn more so I can be good ally for everyone), or ask me any questions about my own sexuality, and pls let me know if there is anything I should add or any misinformation in this post (I will not be including blatant blankphobia against any mspec identity so don't even try it bitches)

[pascalpanic]

“You can call me whenever you want… Even if you don’t have a reason to.” with Javi 😩 OR marcus moreno bc I think it fits him too

Personal Number (Javier Peña x f!Reader)

Summary: You’re lonely working as the American ambassador’s secretary. You miss the days of being down with the agents as a receptionist. At least you get to talk with Javier Peña on the phone somewhat often.

W/C: 1.5k

Warnings: language, brief mentions of sexual content. this is pretty tame.

A/N: I LOVE JAVIER. can you tell?? thank you for this idea Thea!!! I love it so much and I hope you like it too. Also, can you tell I like writing phone calls? I just think it’s so fun and a medium that isn’t covered super often.

it’s definitely not because I like not having to write about body language or action.

Javier Peña was a flirt. You knew that from the start, from the stories you’d heard from the other women around the embassy. He was cute, you admitted. Tight shirts and equally slim-fitting jeans, dark hair, lean and strong. He walked with power in his stance.

You liked him. He was a nice man, respectful. He flirted with everyone, but he never went too far. Sure, he’d slept with a solid chunk of the women who worked here, but he was supposedly a wonderful lover. His methods were unorthodox in the field, but he got what he needed. He was incredibly clever, setting up traps and getting information by any means necessary. You talked occasionally, when he’d stop by because you had a message for him at the receptionist desk. He was good for conversation. He liked the cinnamon candies you kept on your desk.

The other women talked with you more than he did. You and the other women chatted, ate lunch together. The rare female presence was much appreciated in such a testosterone-laden environment. You all got along well. Even compared stories of sleeping with certain agents, how their skills at finding the clit ranked, how snuggly they were after, how receptive they were to certain acts. It was fun.

Javier was a busy man. The phone on his desk rarely rang. If someone needed someone around the embassy, they went and talked to them in person. It was an excuse to get away from your desk, people figured. You rarely used the phone too, even as a receptionist. You’d answer calls when they came, but they were usually directed other places, with specific extensions. People here were more direct.

That was before you’d been appointed as the ambassador’s secretary. It was an honor. It meant you were good at your job. You’d taken it, bragging to the other girls over lunch. Everyone was excited for you.

The job, you found out, was dry. It consists most days of making phone calls. Stechner, Ambassador wants you. Ambassador? Stechner’s here. Yep. I’ll let him in. Hi, we’ll take three orders of arepas- sorry, yes sir? Scratch that, he wants four. And can you throw in a coffee- one second, yes sir? Got it- with four creams and two sugars.

You doodle on a notepad many days. You read newspapers or reports. You proofread memos for the ambassador before he sends them off to someone important. It’s draining and dry and you have to admit you hate it.

“Peña,” a voice answers the phone.

“Hi Javier. Are you busy?” You ask.

He smiles a little as he hears your voice, leaning back in his chair and crossing his legs. “When am I ever around here?” He asks, and you chuckle.

“I know the feeling.”

The two of you had talked a few times before. He was nice enough, if curt. Usually, he was busy. People only came to you when they needed something as a receptionist, and now even more so as a private secretary.

“How’s the promotion treating you?” He asks. He’d heard word as he talked with others. Noticed your spot was empty for a day or two before being replaced by another woman. He missed the little candies you kept on your desk. You always kept cinnamon disks stocked in a separate jar from the seasonal candies for him.

“It’s… good,” you nod, drawing a little fish on your notepad. “Kind of feels like a demotion sometimes. It’s boring up here. And lonely. I miss being around to talk with people.”

“We miss you,” he admits with a smile. “You still keep those cinnamon candies on your desk up there?”

You shake your head, holding the phone between your ear and your shoulder. “No. Ambassador doesn’t like them, so I switched over. I did get some new fun caramel flavored stuff though.”

“Damn,” he chuckles.

“Would it make you come up here if I had them?”

“I may have to visit the ambassador more often if you did,” he teases, and you chuckle softly. “Poor little social butterfly, cooped up on the highest floor, away from humanity.”

“I do feel like Rapunzel some days,” you sigh, still smiling. “Oh shit, I’m sorry. I was supposed to ask if you were busy for the ambassador, not for myself. He wants to see you if you have a minute.”

“Yeah, I’ve got time. Right now?”

“Right now.”

You can hear shuffling on the other end. “Let me put my signature on one more paper and I’ll be up.” He hangs up and you sigh. There was the most interaction you’ll get for the day.

-

It seems that the closer the men get to Escobar, the more the ambassador needs to see Murphy and Peña. You don’t mind. The two men are funny, and the way they interact makes you smile.

Peña talks to you more than Murphy. Steve is more likely to go outside to smoke, while Javier smokes at his desk. That means you dial him more often simply because there’s a higher probability he’s at his desk. Not because you enjoy talking with him more.

The two men had picked up on calling you Rapunzel. Your energy and excitement was draining day by day, and they compared your new position outside of the ambassador’s office, high on the top floor of the embassy, to Rapunzel’s tower.

You playfully called them Javi and Stephen in return to annoy both of them. It didn’t work on Javier. It turned out he liked that, and you could tell by the way his voice softened. So you kept that.

“Peña.”

“Guess who?” you ask dryly, tapping your pen against your notepad.

The man chuckles. “You must be having an exciting day up there. I can hear it in your voice.”

“Ha.” The word is humorless and flat. “Ambassador wants to see you two.”

Javier groans. “Kind of busy.”

“Well, I’ll tell him that,” you nod and write down on a legal pad- separate from your doodling pad- Peña busy. 11:30. “How are things going down there today?”

“Annoying. Steve is a pain in my ass- hey, shut the fuck up,” you can hear him say even as he removes the receiver away from his phone. You giggle at that, smiling as he speaks again. “Sorry. Can you guess who that was?”

“What was he saying this time?” You ask, twirling the cord to the phone around your finger.

“Nothing,” he insists, but you can hear Murphy shouting. Some message he’s trying to get to you.

“Well, alright. Call up when you’re less busy,” you ask him and hang up.

You really want to know what Murphy was going on about. You dial his desk and he picks up. “S’this Rapunzel?” A southern accent twangs.

“Of course,” you chuckle. “What were you shouting into Javi’s phone?”

“Oh, nothing. Oh, hey, wait,” he says, pulling the phone down and pressing it to his chest. You can hear the muffled voices of the two men, but not what they’re saying. He puts it back to his ear quickly after. “Anyway, it’s nothing. We’ll call you back when we’ve got a minute to come up.”

Odd, you think, before going back to your work on your desk.

-

The phone rings again an hour later. “Ambassador’s office,” you say with a gentle lilt to your voice.

“Hey, Rapunzel,” a kind but rough voice speaks through the phone. Javi.

“Hey,” you chuckle a little. “You guys ready to come up?”

“Uh, no, not yet. But I do want you to write something down for me.”

“Anything,” you nod, priming your pen above the piece of paper.

Javier rattles off ten numbers, and you diligently write them down on the paper. You repeat it back and he affirms that it’s correct. “Got it. What is it?”

“It’s my personal phone number.”

“Javi, the ambassador already has your phone number.”

“No, I know. It’s for you.”

Oh. Your heart flutters excitedly in your chest, causing you to let out a soft giggle.

“I like talking with you. Our phone calls are the highlight of my day. You can call me whenever you want… even if you don’t have a reason to. I just… like hearing your voice. I like you.”

You clutch the paper, grinning ear to ear. “Well, I like you too, Javi. I’ll be using this,” you assure him, looking down at it and beaming. “Now, you said you’re busy. Get back to work.”

“Yes ma’am. See you in a bit.”

Click. Dial tone. Your heart fills with sparks and little fireworks, sending you into a loud laugh of excitement.

The thick oak doors swing open. The ambassador looks at you with concern. “Everything alright out here?” He asks you.

You nod, biting your lip and looking down to hide your grin. “Yeah, yeah. Great, sir. Peña and Murphy aren’t ready yet. They’ll be up later.”

The man gives you a nod and closes the door behind him.

The grin returns. You trace the freshly-dried ink, the nine numbers that will connect you directly to Javier at any time you want. You pull your contact book from your purse, sitting beneath your desk, flipping to a clean page.

Javier Peña, you write.

xxx-xxx-xxxx

personal number

You go back and draw a small heart next to his name.

[bbygirldahyun]

no worries! it's just so disheartening to see how many ppl have been unnecessarily driven away from the fandom bcs of toxic and incredibly petty stans who love to twist things out of context to fit their agenda. i myself don't even feel like going on stan twt anymore bcs it feels like everything you do is seen as "offensive" even if it isn't at all, and i don't like it.

right like, i know a huge part of this community on tumblr is the anonymity and stuff but that’s for like, so someone doesn’t feel embarrassed sending requests not so people can hind behind anon to throw out random accusations or being rude to the blog they’re sending it to.

i totally understand why it’s necessary to call people out publicly sometimes, we’ve had plenty of issues with people being gross or inappropriate (especially towards minors) or people being bigoted and that’s a question of safety for everyone in the community but people need to understand you can’t just accuse someone of something and provide no evidence. especially when this community has a history with people making accusations towards writers simply because they don’t like them. it’s also a matter of fairness — if you’re gonna call one writer out for doing something you better call out every writer who does it.

i 100% agree the fandom is very toxic, onces have made the twice fandom an insanely toxic environment and this is coming from someone who’s other fandom at the moment is marvel so like, that’s saying something.

[itsmeevie01]

Bio!Dad Bruce Day 9- Last Name (Wayne)

ok, so, if youve paid attention, the you know that i can’t write dialouge for the life of me lol.so today…i bring you dialouge in the form of texting :)

Marinette didn’t make a big deal about who her father was. Of course, when she had just met the man, she had relied on her friends to help her navigate the tricky situation. Since then, the teen had gotten good at only saying what she needed to. Chloe knew. Nino knew. Kim ands Alix knew. Max knew. They all knew and didn’t bring it up. They knew that she had processed it and moved on. To her, Bruce Wayne was just her father. She didn’t talk about the money, or all the work her father did. Marinette made a point to just be herself, and not worry about what names were attached.

At school, of course, she was Marinette Dupain-Cheng. On her ID? On her ID, she was Marinette Cheng-Wayne. Only those who needed to know knew. That how Marinette liked to keep it, at least, if she could help it.

When Marinette was 14, a new girl joined her class. The girl was sweet, if a little delicate. She said she had a lot of different injuries and conditions, but who was Marinette to judge? When the girl started to cling to one of the boys, Adrien, Marinette got a little worried. It wasn’t the end of the world, if he had offered to help, but he looked uncomfortable. When she mentioned this to Chloe, the girl had snarled. “That leech has been worming her way into his head. If you could hear what Gabriel was telling him to do- “her friend shook her head. “If I step in, want to help?” Marinette felt a smile crawl its way onto her face.

“gladly.”

Over the next few weeks, the girls watched what their new classmate, Lila, did. By that point, Nino had brought up his own concerns at fit far too well with theirs. Finally, Chloe decided it was time to take action. The blond stormed into the class and settled into her seat with a scowl. When Sabrina hurried over to join her, Chloe shook her head. Marinette took pity on the redhead and tugged the girl to the back of the class with her, whispering a quiet “watch”. When Nino and Adrien came in, Nino made his to the back, where he plopped down next to Kim. Alix and Max sat across the aisle, and all of them were ready for the explosion that was bound to happen. As Lila and Alya slipped in together, chatting and giggling over some story, the others exchanged glances. They had all been pretty close for years. Because of that, it was hard for others to join their group. The newest addition was Sabrina, and that was only because of her tendency to hang around Chloe. A ding on Kim’s phone drew the groups attention, making them all glance down at their own phones. In the group chat, Alix had sent a video linked to the LadyBlog.

Alix: saw this, this AM. Might be worth looking into. (video attached from the LadyBlog, Titled The Secrets of the Wayne Family)

Mari: wtf

Mari: what is she trying to do

Mari: her ass will get lawyered so fast

Max: she obviously hasn’t thought this through

Kim: is she claiming to know them????

Chlo: oml

Chlo: SLANDER

Chlo: please Mari, please tell me that she doesn’t know your family?

Mari: I mean

Mari: she might? But I think her family name would have come up when Tim and I were planning world domination if she did.

Max:!

Mari: don’t worry, its been put on the back burner. Dad has a new kid that keeps trying to stab Tim w/ a Katana lol.

Nino: Mari, aren’t you supposed to go visit soon? Maybe you should just stay here, dudette.

Chlo: ITS SHOWTIME

The friends hurriedly stowed their phones away and returned their gazes to the front of the room where Lila had approached a confused Adrien. The boy had been deposited next to Chloe in the first row, confusion evident in his green eyes. The Italian girl leaned over the desk, trying to garner as much attention as possible. “Adrien, why don’t you come sit with me? I was hoping you could help me keep up with the lesson.” The dangerous flash of her eyes was so fast that most would have missed it. Marinette narrowed her eyes in suspicion. It looked like Chloe hadn’t been exaggerating about what was going on behind the scenes. Moving before things could get out of hand, Marinette skipped down to the desk.

“I can help, Lila! Literature is one of my favorite subjects!” the anger that glowed behind Lila’s eyes was worrying, but Marinette wasn’t worried. She grabbed the other girl by her elbow and tugged her towards the seat the brunette usually occupied. “I’m sure that Alya wouldn’t mind sitting next to Sabrina!” as Marinette settled into the new seat, Lila folded herself onto the bench and pulled out her notebook, shunning her new seatmate. As Marinette got her own supplies ready, she mentally prepared herself for an hour of clod anger directed at her.

After the bell rang, Marinette slowly started to collect her things. The girl next to her was moving faster than the noirette expected. For a girl who was supposed to a wrist injury, Lila sure wasn’t trying to avoid the pain. Shaking her head, Marinette finished collecting her stuff and went to join Chloe where she was waiting at the door. As they linked arms, Marinette realized that there was a sharp voice behind her, crying. “Oh Alya, it was awful! Marinette wouldn’t answer any of my questions, and told me that if I didn’t understand it, I should keep my mouth shut!” Chloe sniggered next to her and strode away towards the lockers, pulling Marinette with her.

“Honestly, Mari? I wish you had told the brat to shut up, maybe then she would be scared of you.” Marinette rolled her eyes at her best friend.

“your only scared of me, because you’ve seen me with Tim, and know that we already are on the path to world domination.” Chloe shook her head and closed her locked with a soft thud.

“Mari, you are worse than all of your brothers, simply because you don’t use your fathers name to back you up. If you did that, then you would have the same royal brat rep I do.”

Chlo: so, is anyone going to put a stop to the liar’s yapping?

Adrien: wait what? Chloe, who are the other numbers?

Chlo: Adrien, please.

Chlo: do you really not have these numbers saved already?

Nino: yeah dude, that’s a little mean

Mari: lol yeah, I’m insulted, Adrien!

Adrien: Wait, Nino?

Adrien: who…is in this chat?

Alix: Me!

Max: Markov and myself

Kim: and me, man

Adrien: that…doesn’t help.

Chlo: oh honesty!

Chlo: you idiot, its Mari, Nino, Max, Alix, and Kim.

Chlo: you are Ridiculous

Chlo: UTTERLY RICICULOUS!

Mari: Chloe, chill. I don’t think he’s been in one of our…unique chats before.

Max: affirmative. Adrien usually spends time with Nino, Alya, and Lila if he isn’t with Chloe and Sabrina

Chlo: back to the topic at hand!

Chlo: the brat has to stop

Mari: I mean…she hasn’t done anything we can stop her with yet.

Nino: we need solid proof

Alix: are we just going to forget this AM? (video attached from the LadyBlog, Titled the Secrets of the Wayne Family)

Adrien: is someone going to tell me what’s going on?

Mari: we can’t drag them into this, Alix. it’ll make it worse, not better.

Alix: M, are you sure? we could shut her up real fast. Your fam, mine, Chloe’s?

Max: theoretically, it would be the path of least resistance.

Mari: THEY ARE A LAST RESORT

Mari: I AM NOT LETTING JASON MOCK ME FOR THIS

Mari: bc that ass totally will.

Adrien: ok, but what’s going on?

Max: Lila is trying to use you to catapult herself to fame

Kim: haha yeah, its not going to work if we have anything to say about it.

Chlo: also, very happy Mari never brought Alya into the fold

Mari: fuck no

Mari: do you see the way that girl doesn’t research anything. She latches on and never lets go.

Nino: so, you’ve said, Mari. I still think your over exaggerating on that one, lol

Mari: lmfao

Mari: Nino, she thinks I have a crush on ADRIEN of all people.

Mari: sorry, Adrien, bc you’re my friend? But she latched onto something and won’t let it go

Alix: shit I remember that. She tried to get us to set the two of you up. Those plans SUCKED.

Mari: remember how I kept sabotaging them lol? She just thought that fate was against her

Max: logically, shouldn’t that be a sign that you two aren’t meant to be?

Mari: haha I wish. After that, she tried to set me up with Chat Noir.

Chlo: WAIT

Chlo: that’s what Lady Wi-Fi was about?

Mari: yesssssssss

Adrien: um…should I be concerned about this?

Kim: I mean…no? its normal at this point.

Max: Chloe, plan #3 might work for taking down Lila? We wouldn’t need Mari’s family to join in if we do that.

Mari: if that fails, I’ll call Tim.

Mari: but ONLY if #3 fails, and we can’t make say…#5 work.

Chlo: you got yourself a deal, Marinette.

When the group entered the classroom together the next day, Chloe and Marinette were chattering excitably together. Adrien and Nino were talking about something on his phone while Max was keeping sore for whatever competition Kim and Alix had going on. When Lila approached Adrien and tugged him over to her seat, the others tracked her movement wordlessly.

When Alya came in and found them watching, she smirked at them. “those two make a cute couple, don’t they? Lila was practically glowing earlier when she was talking about the date they went on last night.” The friends exchanged telling glances but otherwise brushed the girl off as they dispersed to their seats. As she made her way to the seat she had claimed at the back at the beginning of the year, Marinette paused by Lila’s desk.

“Lila, do you need help again today? I know that the topics we’re covering are a little difficult if you’re not familiar with them.” The brunette scowled up at her.

“sorry, Marinette, but you can’t really keep up with the help I need.” The smaller girl shrugged.

“I’m sorry that you feel that way, Lila. If you ever need help, feel free to ask.” as she made her way to her seat, Marinette could hear Lila say loudly

“She’s just jealous that I have connections like the Wayne’s and Jagged stone and she’s just a little miss nobody.”

Mari: fuck it, it’s on bitch. I’m calling Jagged and Clara. These are slander charges now.

Chlo: should I expect your family’s lawyers too?

Mari: hell no. Tim is a last resort.

Mari: dad’s friend tho? THEY are defiantly going to be getting a few phone calls.

Mari: hey Jagged, Penny. I have just a tiny question.

Penny: Marinette! We were getting ready to contact you! What’s going on?

Mari: what kind of slander would be bad enough to sue over?

Penny: why?

Mari: this (voice file attached. Label reads SeNd To JaGgEd ASAP)

Jagged: little lady…where did you get this?

Mari: I recorded it during class today

Jagged: this liar is your age?

Penny: Marinette, would you mind if I send this to our lawyers?

Mari: go right ahead.

Tim: so…

Tim: would you like to explain why Jagged Stone is ranting to B in the entryway about a “little lying brat” who is in his “favorite niece’s class?”

Mari: wat

Mari: idk what you’re talking about

Tim: Little Bit, you can’t possibly think he hasn’t name dropped you yet.

Mari: WHAT.

Mari: fuck

Tim: ummmmmm

Tim: WHEN DID YOU START CUSSING?

Mari: tim. Please remember who my brothers are.

Tim: OH neverminded

Tim: why didn’t you get me involved?

Mari: theres no reason for Marinette Dupain-Cheng to know the Wayne fam

Mari: also, we wanted to use #3 and #5 first. If they didn’t work (they are) we were going to rain fire lolz.

Tim: fine. When your ready for the power that comes with the name, lmk

Tim: aslo, I insist on being included in the planning.

Mari: also*

Tim: fuck off

Tim: I wan to be ready for whatever damage control might be needed with the press

Tim: also, I live the kind of chaos that you and Chloe create together lolz

When Adrien turned to Marinette during lunch that day, there was clear confusion in his eyes. “Mari?”

“what’s up, Adrien?”

“who was that guy…Tim? That Chloe kept mentioning?”

“oh? She didn’t tell you?” the blond shook his head, looking worried. Marinette smiled ruefully and sighed.

“he’s my older brother on my father’s side.” When Adrien furrowed his brow, Marinette elaborated. “My father lives in the United States and runs a big corporation. He spends a bit of time in the limelight, but he keeps us all out of the press.”

“the…Dupain family?” Marinette laughed before smoothing over her friend’s confusion.

“no, Tom is my dad, but Bruce is my Father. He lives on the east coast, and I spend most holidays and breaks with my siblings over there.” Adrien nodded and smiled at her.

“I guess that makes sense. Its really cool at you get to spend your time with both sides of your family like that. What is your father’s last name then? I don’t think I’ve heard it.” Marinette winced.

“My father’s last name is Wayne. Anywhere except school, I use the name Marinette Cheng-Wayne.”

ok, thats a wrap. for once, this could be read by itself with almost no context. this will fit intothe overall storyline, but i had to go back and set the stage (this) for when Mari is 15. here, its the begining of the school year that she turns 15. (her b-day is in April bc i want to mess wiht cannon even more than i already do.)

[vodkassassin]

Lqg and sqh on a night hunt. Lqg didn't know that his shixog(spelling whatever) was so competent.

So uh, there WAS a night hunt... prior to this. Haha. And SQH didn’t actually end up being in this one, bc MQF took charge and I couldn’t say no to him when he looks so stern! Really! @dancibayo

This one ties in with the prompt from earlier that I wrote for @writing_frenzy

Liu Qingge barges into the office of Mu Qingfang with barely a knock on the doorframe. He stalks forward past the startled Qian Cao disciple attendant and plants himself across the desk from the seated peak lord, dropping into the opposite cushion with a quiet huff.

Mu Qingfang signs off on a discharge form, tucking it neatly into the appropriate stack. He tugs free the next form, going over its specifications before moving it to the rejection pile without making a mark on it.

Liu Qingge grunts.

Mu Qingfang ignores him and continues on to the next form.

Liu Qingge’s eyes narrow.

Behind them, the disciple nervously clears his throat and steps forward. “A-Ah, Liu-shishu, shizun is—is not seeking visitors right now? Um, as you can see, he is working —”

Liu Qingge whips around in his seat to face the quivering disciple, eyes wide and scowl fierce. The poor boy flinches back with a terrified squeak.

Mu Qingfang closes the roster booklet that he’s holding with a sharp snap. He finally looks up.

“How rude of you, shixiong,” he chides, “coming into my home like this and frightening my disciples. You should be ashamed.”

Liu Qingge glares at him.

Mu Qingfang arches a brow. “Come now. I know your shizun taught you the same etiquette that our teachers taught the rest of us.”

There’s a long stretch of silence. The disciple remains in the corner of the room, between the desk and the door, looking ready to bolt. Finally, with a sharp breath, Liu Qingge turns back to face the disciple and dips his head in a facsimile of a bow.

“This shishu apologizes to his shizhi.” He states, sounding annoyed.

“Sh-Shishu is forgiven,” the disciple stammers, gaze shifting from him to his own shizun and back.

Mu Qingfang sighs, setting his roster flat on the table before him. “A-Yan, please work on your confidence. A day will come when you must assert yourself over an unruly patient, and if you can’t manage that then you won’t make it further than a background assistant.”

The disciple stares down at the ground, shame-faced. “Understood, Shizun.”

“I know your Liu-shishu is scary—”

Liu Qingge looks affronted, and A-Yan’s face turns red.

“— but he gets injured all the time.”

“Hey.”

Mu Qingfang casts the objecting peak lord a severe look, somehow without changing a single muscle in his usual neutral expression, and Liu Qingge hunches down in his seat rather mulishly, scowl directed into his lap.

Mu Qingfang turns back to his disciple. “One of these days, you will be helping me treat him when the time comes, so I expect you to be able to handle yourself.”

A-Yan looks horrified. He glances at the sulking Bai Zhan peak lord, who stares balefully back at him, and turns his apprehensive face back toward his shizun. “Him?” He shakily asks, as if to clarify.

Mu Qingfang watches him, and then releases a breath. “A-Yan.”

“Sh-Shizun?”

“From now on, you are assigned as an assisting nurse for all of our Bai Zhan patients.”

“Sh-Shizun, no please—”

“A-Yan.” Mu Qingfang scolds. “Understood?”

A-Yan whimpers. The boy curls in on himself. “... Y-Yes, Shizun.”

Mu Qingfang nods sharply, folding his hands before him on the desk. “Very good. Now leave your shishu to me.”

The disciple dips a bow toward each of them, and then practically flees the room as quickly as he can while still being polite.

Liu Qingge scoffs after him, and turns an asserting eye upon his fellow peak lord.

“Harsh,” he comments, low.

“Our disciples need to learn the necessary skills for their respective futures, beyond simply training their blade arms,” Mu Qingfang answers primly, shuffling through the stack of paper on his desk. It’s something he has said many times before. “It doesn’t help that you have most of my disciples terrified of you. They aren’t the same as your own students, Liu-shixiong. You can't just pull your sword on them when they get in your way.”

Liu Qingge rolls his eyes and crosses his arms over his chest.

Mu Qingfang sighs, leaving the topic be. He knows how to choose his battles. The doctor glances up at the man sitting across from him, and raises an eyebrow. “What brings you to me today, shixiong? Were you injured on your last trip, and finally caved in to your pains enough to admit you need a professional’s help? Are all your bones in the right places? Is your shoulder still bothering you?”

The sword master grits his teeth, the muscles of his arms tensing and relaxing as he fights to sit still. “I’m fine.”

“Oh?” Mu Qingfang doesn’t look convinced, but he decides to let it be for now. “Then what?”

Impatient, Liu Qingge uncrosses his arms and slams both hands down on the table. “Shang Qinghua!”

The line of Mu Qingfang’s mouth goes flat. “What about him?”

“Why are you listed as his priority missions partner?” The other demands.

“I don’t see how that’s any of your business.”

“When did that happen?”

“Neither, I would say, is that.”

“Qingfang,” Liu Qingge growls out, and Mu Qingfang narrows his eyes. “Why?”

The doctor releases a long breath. He leans back in his seat and taps a finger against the table thoughtfully. “Why are you asking?”

Liu Qingge stares at him. The man huffs, and shifts in his own seat, crossing his legs underneath him into the more comfortable lotus position, and clenching his hands into fits against his own robes. He’s always had a sort of fidgety energy to him. Liu Qingge isn’t good at sitting still, especially if he’s impatient for something that he wants.

The Bai Zhan peak lord tilts his chin down, digging it against his collarbone as he glares at the table.

Mu Qingfang sighs. “What was that?”

“Mission,” Liu Qingge grits out. “With Shang Qinghua. Went… well.”

Mu Qingfang straightens up. He eyes the peak lord sitting across from him sharply. “Ah,” he said. “Earlier this week? I was preoccupied with that rather intensive surgery….”

Liu Qingge glares at him. “You’ve been keeping him all to yourself.” He accuses.

“Nonsense,” Mu Qingfang snaps. “I’m the only peak lord in the sect that offers Shang Qinghua any due respect, whereas the others all nag on him. Talk down to him. Shen Qingqiu, before his fever, never passed the opportunity to make his life more difficult. Until recently, you yourself routinely attempted to beat him —”

“Spar.” Liu Qingge tries to correct, but Mu Qingfang shakes his head sternly.

“You and I both know sparring is the last thing on your mind when concerning Shang Qinghua. You’ve always seen him as weak, less skilled. That he is not anything close to someone who you would seek a challenge from, Liu Qingge. Speak truthfully.”

Liu Qingge sinks down in his seat, scowling.

“Given all of this,” Mu Qingfang continues, eyebrows coming together in a rare frown, “why on earth would you think that Shang Qinghua would ever want to go on a mission, with any of you? I was not ‘keeping him to myself’. Far from it; if I am Shang Qinghua’s priority missions partner, then that is because Shang Qinghua himself signed off on it.”

Mu Qingfang drops the stack of papers he was transferring to the opposite side of his desk. It settles with a dull but loud thud, and the mulish and silent Li Qingge winces.

After a long moment has passed in which the doctor continues to organize the tidy storm of paperwork that clutters his desk, and Liu Qingge stares at the wood grain of the table top and contemplates his life choices, Mu Qingfang once again speaks.

“I am curious, however. If I’m not available, our sect leader typically passes over Shang-shixiong for missions, given that we are, in fact, listed as each other’s preferred missions partners. How did you even convince him to assign Shang Qinghua with you in the first place?”

Liu Qingge continues to glare down at the wood grain, as if it’s personally offended him. His jaw is clenched tightly, and Mu Qingfang has always been the one person, beyond his mother and his sister, who can read him without fail.

The doctor gapes at him. “You didn’t? Shixiong! Did you kidnap Shang Qinghua from the sect?”

“No!” Liu Qingge denies loudly, jerking his head up to frown at his martial brother. “I didn’t kidnap him! I just… didn’t tell him that it… wasn’t. An officially mandated mission.”

Mu Qingfang stares at him.

Liu Qingge crosses his arms again, this time defensively.

“I didn’t kidnap him,” he insists.

“You’re staying for lunch,” the doctor announces abruptly. “And shixiong, you and I are going to have a long, in-depth talk about lying by omission.”

Liu Qingge huffs. Then, he perks up. “During which, we can negotiate terms of who gets to take Shang Qinghua on missions?”

“First of all, that is a discussion that requires Shang Qinghua’s presence. Second of all — that depends. Is he still in one piece?”

Liu Qingge pauses, blinks after a moment of recall, and then makes a face.

Mu Qingfang stands up from his desk. “This is something you should have told me immediately! How bad is it? Shixiong, you idiot! A-Yan! A-Yan, get me my medical bag! We’re going to— Shixiong, where is he?”

Liu Qingge blinks up at him from where he still sits at the table, startled.

“Where else? I dropped him off at his peak,” he shrugs. “For his disciples to deal with.”

Mu Qingfang takes in a sharp breath. “You and I,” he says, pointing a finger at the nonplussed Bai Zhan lord. “We will be having words.”

Then, he grabs Liu Qingge by the collar and whirls around, dragging the struggling, affronted man with him out the door. “A-Yan! My bag, now! We’re going to An Ding!”

“Mu-shidi! Qingfang, let me go!”

“Not when you’re this stupid, I won’t. You’re coming to face the consequences of your actions, for once!”

Their shouting was heard all along the journey from Qian Cao to An Ding.

[stoic-whumpee]

same anon– and yeah i probably should have started with the definition sorry– from what ive seen, it usually includes that the whumper, whumpee (and sometimes caretaker too) are part of the same family/live under one roof, and when the whumping happens the whumpee usually has nowhere to go bc said whumper is the family they should be turning to or someone close that they cannot simply walk away from– hope that explains it a bit, i myself havent seen too many works with this trope,, as thats why i was asking

Thank you for clarifying! That’s what I thought it is but I wasn’t sure. 

Here are some thoughts :) 

Warning: this post has very realistic scenarios that can be triggering, so proceed with caution. If you need me to add more tags please don’t hesitate to let me know!

TW: domestic abuse,  emotional and physical abuse ,violence, gaslighting, isolation, nightmares

- Punishment: Whumper doses out punishments because they want Whumpee to be “better”, to be well behaved, to fit into Whumper’s idea of “perfect” or “good”. 

Physical punishments doled out with anything close by, so kitchen appliances, cleaning supplies, heavy breakable vases/flower pots/ashtray... Forcing Whumpee to do chores to exhaustion, starving them, locking them in their room, etc. are all good options you can look at. 

Emotional punishments like the silent treatment where Whumper ignores Whumpee or is passive-aggressive toward them (Whumper doesn’t say anything bad, but you can feel in their manerism and the way they go about the house that they are angry, and it is terrifying to Whumpee because they don’t know what will set Whumper off). 

Isolating the Whumpee, not letting them going out to see their friends, keeping money from them - basically stripping the Whumpee of any source of autonomy and support. Especially making them ashamed of themself and not seeking for help. Or Whumper taking a step further and gaslight Whumpee into thinking they deserve the treatment and that Whumper is actually helping them. The private aspect of the “home” - that people don’t talk about what happens in their house to “outsiders” - plays a big part in this too. 

- Whumpee spends a long time hiding what Whumper does to them because they don’t think that is a big deal (”Whumper was just trying to help me learn”) and they are ashamed of themself for needing so much “help”. Everyone around them thinks that they are okay, if a little weird/jumpy. 

Until finally, Whumpee reaches a breaking point and tries to get out of the house. But the people they go to did not understand the gravity of their situation, and think that Whumpee might just have a silly argument with the Whumper. They bring Whumpee back to the Whumper, who is livid at Whumpee’s attempt of leaving. Whumper points out that Whumpee has nowhere to go and no one to turn to, the only person there for them is Whumper. 

Whumpee doesn’t try to get out anymore. They know that no one will help them, and now Whumper has actual proof to rub it in their face. 

- Whumpee finally gets out of the house/relationship and leaves Whumper for good. But sometimes they still get confused about what to feel about Whumper because there were good moments where Whumper made them truly happy, and for a long time Whumper was the only person they could count on. Sometimes Whumpee considered coming back to Whumper because they are lonely and too traumatised to start a new relationship or to be vulnerable to new people. They have to constantly remind themself that it is a bad idea. 

- Nightmares about Whumper being angry at them still haunt Whumpee for a long time. Nightmares about being left alone or abandoned. 

- Physical scars but also emotional scars. Whumpee desperately wants to trust and confide in someone, but also is terrified of being vulnerable to another person and have their trust violated again. 

This is becoming super long so I’ll update if I think of something more :) 

Thanks for the ask!