#i owe my life to you for providing content

[dovesndecay]

It's June! It's Pride! It's (my) Birthday!

The Introduction Spiel:

Hi, I'm Reyah! (any pronouns! no really, go for it!) On June 21st, I'm turning 32, an exciting and mysterious age to be!! (So I've heard)

Warning: This is a post asking for financial help, and if there's one thing I would ask is that if you read the whole thing: please reblog.

I'm a multiply-disabled queer person of color, a writer, artist, and photographer. I live with three of my best-good-pal-friends, (@renthony, @kryptidkhaos, and @natalieironside) and our collective army of pets.

We all know it's damned hard to be all these things at the same time under the capitalistic hellscape we're living under, and we/I am always in need of a lot of help with the existing.

I ended the month of May with some smaller bills left still to pay, but am thankful to say that June already had fewer bills than usual due, and the amount I need to start the summer off right is actually less than I was afraid it would be! Woohoo!

What I Make

I mentioned my artistic endeavors, let me show you them!!

Writing

I write less often than I'd like, but I share poetry and shorts, when I have them, on my Patreon!

You must be over 18 to pledge, as I have, can, and will again share Adult Content occasionally. Patrons pledging at least $1/month get access to all content. But most posts becomes free to access eventually. :)

When I do longer form content, I primarily write fantasy with a focus on queer brown characters with disabilities, mental illnesses, and disordered attachments. Because therapy is expensive, and writing is free.

Photography

I do wildlife and landscape photography, primarily, but you can also check out my portrait and event work on my website! You can purchase PRINTS HERE.

And because it's my birthday, I'm offering a 32% discount code for all my prints! The code is good from June 1st to July 1st!

A Note, if you purchase a print: first off: thank you. (please feel free to send a photo of wherever you display it!!!) secondly: this will not go towards the received totals on my financial need because Pixels doesn't pay out until nearly 2 months after the purchase. Funds made from sales will go towards future needs.

CODE: PDHHTR

Artwork

I've been exploring art, both analog and digital, a lot more lately, and have shared both process photos and final drafts on Patreon! Here are just a few examples:

I admittedly don't post on patreon as much as I wish I had the energy to, but I try to make at least one thing a month, provided I have the spoons and time.

Creativity is, like, a level 5 spell slot when you're disabled and impoverished, and I appear to have exactly One (1) of those available at any given time.

The Needs:

The Bills: $1,100

Yeah, we had to get here eventually. Since this post is already pretty long, I'm putting the rest under a cut.

More than half of this, as always, is just for the car payment and insurance that keeps the regular day-job-haver getting to said job, and all our medical appointments, errands, etc.

I still owe around $13,000 total on Johnny Car, but I think we all know that's just not a real number.

The rest of the funds would go toward paying the small subscriptions, for my various medications, and the regular attempts to whittle away slowly at the $4,300 worth of other debt.

($2,200 of back taxes, and $2,100 of credit card debt, and gods, do I mean slowly. Interest piles up so much faster than I can seem to whittle.)

If you're able and willing to help with paying the bills, direct donations can be made here:

PayPal | (link)

Venmo | (dovesndecay)

Cashapp | ($dovesndecay)

If you can, and only if you can.

The It Would Be Cools:

Since every dime that comes in goes primarily towards food and bills, there's little left afterward to be put towards other life necessities like clothes, toiletries, let alone things I just think would be nice/neat/nifty to have.

I have a High Priority wishlist. It's mostly art supplies, bulk toiletries, etc.

I'm woefully low on clothes, being short, fat, and trans, so very little of what I own actually feels good to wear so much as it simply covers my body. I have a wishlist of clothes that would be nice to have.

For everything that firmly lands under the "I just want it" category, I have an Enrichment list. It's mostly stuffies, but also games, room decor, hobby supplies, books, and stim toys.

Our household keeps a big wishlist for things we need, want, groceries, accessibility products, and everything in-between.

Okay, now what?

Well, now, I'm gonna ask that if you got to this point, and if you can't/don't want to do any of the things listed above, then please reblog this post.

The more people that reblog it, the more likely I'm able to pay my bills for one more month this year.

But if you don't, it's not like anyone's gonna know. I'm not omniscient, I swear.

Anyway, I don't expect anyone to do anything if you can't or even if you just don't wanna, but if you can and you're willing to, it means the world.

I didn't think this is where I'd be at 32. But I never really expected to get here at all in the end, and it's a lot nicer than I thought it would be. Mostly because I am surrounded by amazing people who have the capacity to be so much kinder than I will ever have the words to describe.

Thank you, and to all, a happy pride!

🧡💛💚💙💜🤎🖤

[bananonbinary]

Tumblr's debt is a problem of their own creation. The app is buggy, the userbase is flooded with porn bots, nazis roam free, hate speech roams free, trans women have sfw content marked mature, art and posts are stolen for promotion, features are forced down our throats, ads are malicious and often gross or triggering and giving them money will not stop this.

If we give tumblr money they're not going to get rid of Tumblr live or restore the nsfw or remove ads or whatever you think they're going to do, they're going to KEEP DOING THE SAME THING except with more money to blow. Tumblr is a CORPORATION, they can get a government bailout like any other corporate entity can, and while people are throwing money at a dumbass corporation there are people begging to get bills paid and for food and other necessities.

Please open your eyes to the reality of the situation, its not just some guy anymore, David Karp is long gone its a soulless conglomerate now and they do not need our pity

a lot of yall seem to think that i want to like, bake sale save the baseball team. that's not what this is about. i don't think we need to "fix tumblr's debt," i think we need to make the website profitable (and the debt shows it isnt, altho from what i can gather a better word is "deficit" rather than "debt," ie, they are losing that much more money than they take in annually), because as it stands tumblr has no reason whatsoever to want to keep the current user base around. it's trying to attract a different userbase, because yall are PROUD of the fact that tumblr is a failing website and you dont want to pay them. you're loitering inside a store and acting surprised when the store wants you gone. of COURSE they're constantly introducing new features and not listening to what the users want, they don't want you here.

it's not a protest, it's not an attempt to buy good will, it's a simple business transaction: i spend a lot of time here, and i would like to keep spending a lot of time here. so i will buy my shitty internet crab, and tell my fellow loiterers that they can as well if they want. if you dont want to do that, you literally don't have to, but you can't tell me not to.

you people are all like "ohh tumblr isnt your friend dont give it money" but like. yeah. its not my friend. i would like to pay it for a service it provides, instead of expecting it to continue to provide that service out of the goodness of its non-existant heart. i dont think im the one with the parasocial relationship here.

also:

dont tell me to help a poor people. i am a poor people. i am allowed to spend THREE DOLLARS on something i like for myself, and not give literally every single dollar i have to charity and mutual aid. you have NO IDEA how much or if i do for other people, and you won't, because you aren't owed every detail of my life like that. people are allowed to have things they want for no other reason than they want them sometimes.

[spiderfreedom]

I honestly owe detrans people, and especially detrans women, so much, because reading about their experiences has taught me a lot about... well, everything? About myself and my own trauma re: femaleness, autism. About the factors that lead people to transition. About resilience and moving forward and making a life for yourself in a world where there's no space for you.

Some of my favorite writings from detrans people:

somenuancepls (Michelle Alava, active on substack) has multiple great posts, especially on resilience and growth for detrans people. I recommend "Actually I was just crazy the whole time" (on the mindset that leads medical transition to be viewed as a panacea), "We Shouldn't Have to Be Here" (on how detrans people are expected to act as martyrs) and "Let's Talk About How We Talk About Detransition" (on how to ethically and compassionately talk about transition and detransition without harming (de)/transitioners).

destroyyourbinder (no longer active) has so many amazing posts that I really can't list them all, but "Unriddling the Sphinx: Autism and the Magnetism of Gender Transition" was genuinely revelatory for me as a gender non-conforming autistic woman. (It also kinda sent me spiraling for a few days so if you are also an autistic gnc, read with caution)

funkypsyche has been writing a lot about 'woke' culture in a way I don't agree with, but "The Archetypal FTM Sensitive, Quirky, Artistic Weird Girls" (on the type of people attracted to transmasc identification and the ways society fails them - do you see also see yourself in this list?) is a good read. As a supplement, there is "The History of Tumblr: Gender and Woke Indoctrination, Video Essay", and if you can get through the parts about, well, 'woke indoctrination', it provides a perspective on tumblr and its relationship to mental illness and gender. You do not realize how much mental illness is normalized and glorified on tumblr until you see someone explaining it from the outside and you go "huh, I did not realize that happens and that I do that, too..."

Max Robinson wrote "Detransition: Beyond, Before, and After", the only academic text on detransition to my knowledge. An in depth view on factors influencing transition such as lesbophobia, and the relationship between gender dysphoria and body dysmorphia and how the latter is treated as frivolous and vain while the former is treated as profound and serious.

And there are a lot of tweets I've collected I can't really link here, there are many detransitioners on Twitter. I really do recommend reading a broad variety of detransitioned people, detrans women and men. Even read people who retrans like CrashChaosChats, who once wrote on detransition but then retransitioned after finding that she was unable to deal with dysphoria. If you actually care about dysphoric people, trans people, and detrans people, you need to read broadly to understand the full range of reasons people transition or detransition or retransition.

Feel free to reblog with your additions of writings by detrans people, or people you follow on Twitter or other social media if they don't have long-form content.

[thefrogdalorian]

Hold You in My Arms

Din Djarin x GN!Reader

Summary: Even with its outdated interior and the limitations that entails, The Razor Crest is your home. You find there is a certain charm about the old ship even if the bunk is a little uncomfortable. Though, it's even better when there is a Mandalorian to cuddle, armour and all. Word Count:  2k ✯ Rating: General ✯ Content Warnings: None! ✯ Author's Note: This is set pre-series! A little tooth-rottingly sweet fluffy oneshot for this fine Friday. I wanted to make Din a human weighted-blanket and I yearn to run my fingers through his curls. This was the result. Hope you enjoyed! (The title comes from the song Starlight by Muse).

✯ My Masterlist ✯ Read on AO3 ✯

The sensation of cool metal against your cheek rudely interrupts the warm embrace of sleep, within which you were blissfully enveloped until only moments ago. You recoil at the sudden frigidity, your sleep-addled brain struggling to comprehend the cause for your discomfort. The presence has mercilessly encroached into the peaceful state of slumber you had drifted off into. Which is a miraculous feat, given the cramped surroundings you retire to each night.

Somehow, nestled between the thin sheets that lay atop the firm bunk – which causes your back to ache if you fall asleep in ever so slightly the wrong position – you have been in such a deep, restful state of sleep that being so rudely awakened from it almost makes you want to sob at the injustice. After all, it is a marvel that you ever found yourself so comfortable in the first place. The cramped bunk is tucked away like an afterthought in a corner of the dark hull that forms the main living area of the ship you soar through the stars in. 

Yet, the ship has not been racing through the stars for the past few days. Instead, you have found yourself confined to the groaning metallic structure as you await the return of the man who made your new life possible. Din Djarin rescued you from a monotonous, destitute life and whisked you away in the stars, a debt that you are certain you will never adequately repay. It doesn’t stop you from trying your best every day that you are privileged enough to spend at his side though. A feat you at least attempt, by pouring every ounce of yourself into loving him. You know that Din never expects anything in return. Everything he has is yours and he adores providing for you, finally having a purpose for the payments he receives from bounty hunting. Even so, you can’t help but feel as though you owe him. So, you do your best to love him unconditionally. 

Before you met Din, he was a solitary figure, cutting a lonely path through the galaxy. You changed everything. Din often compares you to a sunrise after a dark night, one that he did not realise quite how grim and gloomy it had been. You are a vibrant presence that brought light into his life. He never tires of telling you how much you mean to him, how deeply he loves you. With all of that in mind, how could you not put everything into loving a man as incredible as Din Djarin?

At present, though, you almost want to throttle him. 

As when your eyelids fly open at the frigid contact, it is the distinctive gleam of beskar that you find next to you. Din’s helmet sparkles even in the dim light of the ship. Until you noticed Din’s dazzling headgear, you were fully prepared to admonish the perpetrator for being so cruel as to wake you up. Yet, when you discover that it is the man whose presence you have been pining for, your anger begins to subside.

It seems that Din has decided to join you on the impossibly small bunk. A fact that would not be such a problem, had Din not clambered onto the bunk without removing a single piece of his armour. Still, at the sight of him next to you, your anger dissipates as quickly as it had begun. The bubbling raging cauldron of fire and fury in the pit of your stomach soon evaporates with a whimper. Your momentary enragement at the intrusion into the serenity you had found in the bunk, despite the uncomfortable odds stacked against you miraculously faded the instant you laid eyes upon the culprit.

While you were sleeping, Din apparently returned from collecting his latest bounty. Clearly, the job has taken its toll, as he has sought rest instantly, still clad in his beskar'gam. Din nestles into your shoulder and you can feel the full heft of his armour, cool and hard against your skin, even through the thin sheet. Even though Din is exhausted and desperately needs sleep, he was so eager to be close to you that he decided to enter the cramped space to lie with you. 

Even though you are certain that Din can't possibly be comfortable given the position he has taken up, you still have no desire for him to leave. Somewhat selfishly, you are enjoying the sensation of him and the warmth his presence causes in you, despite the coldness of his beskar. 

“Din,” you finally sigh, “There isn’t enough room for both of us.”

“Am I hurting you?” Din asks sleepily.

“No, but—”

“Then, there’s room.”

Din’s tone of voice does not leave room for debate. You can’t help but smirk at his determination to remain cuddled up with you. Collecting his latest bounty has rendered him so exhausted that he cannot even muster the strength to remove his armour. With its inflexibility and heft, it cannot possibly be pleasant to lie in, but Din is apparently so desperate to be in your arms that it seems he has sacrificed his own comfort to be close to you.

“You can’t be comfortable, Din,” you observe, shaking your head at his determination to lie in your arms. “Let me get up and give you the bunk to rest properly, I’ll nap in the cockpit chair.”

Your offer to sleep there is an attempt to repay the debt you feel you owe Din. While he frequently allows you to sleep in the bunk, Din is happy to sit in the chair. It is a position he seems content in, with his arms folded and head slumped to the side. For much of his life, sleeping in a bunk was a luxury seldom afforded to a man who lived such a nomadic life as Din. Even though he is unaccustomed to sleeping in a bunk and probably still prefers the chair, you want to give him the marginally more comfortable option.

Din, however, has other ideas…

“No,” Din murmurs in response to your offer, shaking his head furiously at the suggestion. “Want to be close to you.”

“Okay,” you sigh. You shake your head at the stubbornness of your favourite Mandalorian, but you are content to let him be. 

“Can I at least remove your helmet? It feels pretty cold against my cheek, you know…” you ask playfully.

You feel that coldness in motion against your cheek as Din nods slowly, too tired to vocalise his answer. You move instantly, propping yourself up with one elbow while you carefully remove the pesky barrier between you and the brown eyes you adore. Removing Din's helmet is something that you are well accustomed to now, but you still feel your pulse race with excitement each time. There is still a small part of you that can't quite believe you get to see Din in this way, his beauty unencumbered by the armour which usually shields his handsome features from you.

After removing Din's helmet and setting it down on the corner of the bunk, you are finally free to gaze upon the face of the man you have missed so dearly. Instead of joy, however, you feel your heart constricting at the sight of him. Din looks utterly exhausted. Your eyes roam across his features and you notice the tiredness which clouds his brown eyes, dulling their usual spark and vibrancy. There are dark bags lingering under his eyes, too. It seems that Din has scarcely slept since he ventured out from the Razor Crest several days ago. 

He looks up at you tiredly, a small bashful smile on his lips. You are captivated by his beauty, even in the low light. Even when he looks so drained. His is the most handsome face you have ever laid eyes upon, you are certain. With his strong nose and jawline, his features are distinctively masculine. Yet there is a certain softness there, too. Either way, you are sure that you will never tire of looking at him.

In response to the feelings his appearance provokes in you, you run your fingers through his surprisingly soft, dark curls. You gently rake your fingernails across his scalp in a soothing motion. Din hums in response, an appreciative sound that goes some way towards calming the anxiety you felt upon first laying eyes upon his exhausted face.

Now that he's lying in your arms, you hope that your careful ministrations go some way to soothing his exhausted soul. Even though he is too drained to vocalise it, you know that there is nothing in the galaxy that could relax him more than your embrace and presence. 

Eventually, Din’s shallow, even breaths indicate that he has finally drifted off. You still feel slightly groggy after being awakened so abruptly, but with Din asleep on you, you know there is no chance that you will be able to get back to sleep. For one, there is the considerable heft of a fully-armoured Mandalorian resting on you, who you are keenly aware is somehow managing to sleep while maintaining the position so he is not placing all of his weight on you and inadvertently crushing you. Additionally, you are enjoying the comfort you draw from Din's presence. Knowing he is close to you and not off hunting bounties, putting himself in dangerous situations soothes your soul.

You are unsure how long you lie there for, with Din lying half on top of you, before his eyelids flutter open and those familiar brown eyes meet yours once more. To your relief, they have regained their spark.

Unfortunately, while his eyes have regained their vibrancy, other parts of Din's body have suffered.

“Can't feel my arms or legs,” Din whines, his body numb after contorting himself into such an uncomfortable position.

“I did warn you,” you tease. There is not a single trace of anger or frustration evident in your tone. You merely enjoy the opportunity to playfully admonish the man you adore.

“I know,” Din nods.

You lean down to kiss his forehead softly. As you place your head back on the pillow, Din gazes up at you with a look of pure adoration in his eyes. Then, he winces slightly, clearly deciding that enough is enough. Din grunts in discomfort as he pushes himself up, and you regretfully watch him go. You are disappointed to have lost an initially disconcerting presence which ultimately became a comfortable one in spite of your initial reservations. Din lingers at the edge of the bunk, looking back at the space with a quizzical look across his features, as though he is appraising something about the space. 

“After we’ve dropped off the bounties on Nevarro, we’re paying a visit to Peli on Tatooine. I’m getting a more spacious bunk installed,” Din says decisively. 

You look at him questioningly, and Din does not hesitate to elaborate:

“I want to make it so that I can cuddle you properly, every night until we’re grey.” 

You shake your head and smile to yourself, touched at the sentiment. For a man with such a reputation of violence that precedes his every move, there is a surprisingly soft centre beneath the tough exterior. You are thrilled with Din’s proposition and you know that the kooky Tatooinian mechanic will have you sorted out with a new bunk in no time—even if the price you pay will be well above the going market rate. 

Despite Din’s stoic appearance and ruthless efficiency, you wonder if the galaxy would view him in a different light if they knew his weakness. You quietly question whether the Bounty Hunters’ Guild would hold a lesser opinion of him if they only knew the truth. 

Namely, that the spoils of one of the many bounties that the man they know as Mando so masterfully collects will go towards upgrading the Razor Crest’s modest bunk. All in order to ensure the formidable bounty hunter can have his scalp rubbed every night until his eyelids grow heavy, and so Din can be cocooned in the tight embrace of the one he loves each time he returns from his latest hunt.

Ultimately, Din Djarin is a man of multitudes. A formidable warrior and a gentle, caring man; who never feels safer or more at peace than when you hold him in your arms. 

[theunsinkableship1]

In response to @gulfiya007

Comment : The entitlement of lukolas is astounding. Luke had EVERY RIGHT TO TAKE HIS GIRLFRIEND TO THE AFTERPARTY and everywhere he wishes. The 'papgate' is a crime only in the eyes of these annoying lukola weirdos who need medical treatment for their delusions. Luke's private life is no one's concern.

Thank you for sharing your perspective. I recognize that this topic is quite controversial and may be deeply upsetting for you. I apologize for forgetting to include my usual disclaimer in my initial text, and I will correct that immediately after this response. Next time, you will be able avoid this kind of content easily.

This a Lukolaship space only. It was my mistake.

However, I believe it's important to reassess the situation surrounding "Papgate." It's not fair to dismiss the significance of this incident as merely the discontentment of entitled fans. The way the show's promotion was handled, particularly the emphasis on the leads as a couple, was a strategic decision aimed at boosting the season's appeal. Significant time, money, and effort were invested in crafting this narrative, and Luke was certainly aware of and agreed to this approach, which is a common practice in the industry.

While Luke undoubtedly has the right to bring whomever he wishes to premieres and after-parties as he has done before the unfortunate timing of the photos naturally led to disappointment within the fandom. It's also worth noting that Luke has never publicly acknowledged her as his girlfriend, which could have provided clarity, especially since he has previously been open about his relationships. Although he doesn’t owe this to the fans, it could have helped manage expectations.

The incident fueled negative reactions both within the fandom and beyond, an outcome that could have been avoided with better timing. Unfortunately, this timing undermined months of PR efforts, which were purposefully crafted by Netflix to highlight the leads' chemistry. As a result, it’s easy to understand why not only fans, but also his co-stars, Netflix, and Shondaland might be displeased with the situation. This has had a noticeable impact on viewership and has also, reasonably or not, tarnished Luke’s reputation in the industry.

Additionally, labeling fans' reactions as mere entitlement is a form of gaslighting, as the promotional strategy was clearly designed to elicit those very reactions. Insulting the fans for responding to the narrative they were fed is dismissive of their legitimate feelings. This was a professional faux pas whether you accept it or not, the consequences remain the same.

[itwasrealtome]

THIN ICE

Olivia Benson x fem! reader

⚠️ DO NOT READ IF THIS MIGHT TRIGGER YOU

ANGST | Olivia Benson x fem! detective reader | Masterlist

Summary : Detective Y/N Y/L/N, part of Olivia Benson’s Special Victims Unit, faces a life-threatening situation during a suspect’s arrest, chasing this one into an ultimate falls to his death. Injured but alive, Y/N finds herself in an hospital room, receiving stern words from Olivia about her reckless actions.

Content Warning : Mention of stimulants to stay awake | Mention of a breakup | Mention of police work | Mention of jumping off a building | Some police man being a jerk | Usual SVU talk : Abuse, murder, violence, weapon and kidnapping | Y/N getting into a fight | People falling from a building | Injuries | Death | Hospital | OLIVIA BEING MAD | HEARTBREAK

A/N : Hello my loves. I'm finally sharing this first Olivia X reader with you. I hope you like it. Please let me know what you think. There are a few people I can't identify in the taglist, I'm sorry.

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•••

This afternoon, the streets seemed even more crowded than usual. The vehicles flooded the roads, coming from every corner and blocking the main way out.

Behind a queue of about ten of them, a police car came to a sudden halt. The alarm was on, and the blue and red flashing lights blinded anyone who looked in that direction.

But no one moved.

Not even the sound of a horn persuaded the citizens of New York to get out of the path.

Amanda’s grip on the wheel only tightened. She had never been able to understand the reason behind people’s insensitivity to this kind of thing. It was such an easy thing to understand. Besides, someone’s life often depended on it. Yet, there she was, turning furiously midway, her partner gasping in surprise, her shirt now stained with hot coffee.

— Dude, can’t you just warn before doing that kind of thing?

The blonde gave a brief glance to her passenger. She expected to find her glued to the door, her fingers clenched around the top handle, but she didn’t.

Y/N was desperately trying to absorb the contents of her cup on her worktop. The wipers provided with her order, finally finding their use.

While most people would have been annoyed about staining a piece of clothing, the young detective was not. She seemed much more upset about losing a few drops of her beverage. The former could still be replaced, but the latter was definitely needed.

— Sorry about your shirt.

— Yeah, well you owe me a coffee.

The driver’s smile only widened when she heard her partner muttering complaints. She knew her well enough to say that it had nothing to do with that slight accident. It was cute. Of course, it was. But Amanda could see through it. She knew it had nothing to do with the coffee. Sure, the days were long and their job involved finding stimulants to stay awake, but Y/N was never acting like that. Something was different. And who better to notice than someone who practically lived with her?

— Sure you’re okay?

— Rollins, it’s just a shirt. I think I can get over it.

Amanda gave her a knowing glance. She expected this kind of answer from the young officer. Everyone knew what kind of person she was.

Committed, she was always the first to arrive at the precinct and the last to leave. She was practically married to the job by now. And though Kat had trouble following orders, Y/N did not. She was the perfect partner. Amanda couldn’t remember a time when Y/N had lost control. But these days, everything seemed to fall apart.

It began with a couple of small comments, here and there, a bit too harsh coming from Y/N’s mouth. Next up, her silence during the team talk was a concerning factor for Amanda. If anyone always had something to add to the investigation, it was her. This ranged from a simple detail no one had noticed, to scientific or sociological facts. It was often complicated to keep the detective quiet, so her lack of involvement was bound to catch the eye. That and the fact the blonde had seen her leave the bunks two mornings in a row at the exact same time.

Sure, it was just the addition of minor details. But the older woman’s gut was not wrong, not about this. Something was wrong with her partner. And it had nothing to do with a simple lack of caffeine.

— Oh, don’t give me that kind of look.

— But you’re not telling me the truth, Y/N/N!

Y/N huffed quietly. At times in her life, she hated being around people whose job was to investigate. She cursed them all equally. She just couldn’t help herself the last few days. Her anger was aimed at a specific and unique person, but that person being in law enforcement themselves, it was almost overwhelming to go to work every day. Time seemed to run too slowly there. The only moments she enjoyed were those outside the building. The cold New York weather allowed her to clear her mind and take a deep breath. And she always had something to do, after all the city never slept.

—Like you don’t keep anything to yourself, huh?

Amanda faintly spluttered. Everyone knew she had had difficult times, but she wasn't the only one. And now that she was honest with herself, she knew she had made mistakes. One thing’s for sure, she did not want her partner to replicate these.

— I made some mistakes, most of them I don’t want you to repeat.

— I seriously doubt you did this one.

That was all she could get out of the young detective. Amanda knew it as she watched her turn toward the window. The mere reflection of her face gave her a glimpse of what she was really feeling inside, a sweet mixture of anger and bitterness. Whatever the problem was, it wasn't something they could fix with a drink. And this worried the blonde even more.

— Just promise me you won't do anything stupid.

These words captured the passenger's interest again. She arched an eyebrow at her partner, a smile forming at the corner of her lips. Knowing their duo’s dynamics, she had dozens of retorts on the tip of her tongue, all of them a little more mischievous than the last. Instead, she just shook her head gently. Amanda didn't have to know how upset she was about the whole thing. She didn’t deserve to worry so much. And Y/N certainly had no right to be such a burden to her partner.

— Like what? Jumping off a building? y/n chuckled at the blonde’s glare. Relax. I won’t do anything of that kind, I promise.

At that very moment, the young detective genuinely meant it. She had not gotten up with such an idea in mind. If jumping off a building was regarded as a very stupid gesture, she considered her routine more so.

It was in the way the precinct’s bunks were beginning to feel like home. And how she spent every second of her days with the badge on her waist. She had no idea when she had last stepped into her apartment for more than a shower. Her desk was overflowing with paperwork and books in which she always found a way to bury herself. It was much more than a way to distract herself. At all costs, she avoided raising her head, out of fear of meeting the gaze that froze her every time. The path she was on was, for that matter, significantly more dangerous than whatever stupid thing Amanda was thinking about.

But she could not say that to her.

To anyone, actually.

— Weren't we just called to make sure that this jerk wasn't prowling around the residence?

In any other context, Y/N would have felt like a fool. Her back nearly arched as she tried to make out what was going on in a street they weren't even close to yet. She may have lacked sleep and insight into her personal life, but her cop intuition never failed her.

— You'd be sure of that if you'd listened to a single word the captain said.

— Something’s wrong.

Amanda brought them to the next intersection before momentarily stopping the car. The sight over her partner’s shoulder sent a chill down her spine. Despite years of experience, she couldn’t help but feel a rush of adrenaline every time. The crowd of cops down the street certainly wasn’t helping. They were everywhere. Mostly hidden behind their vehicles. But their vests did not go unnoticed and neither did their weapons pointed at a specific target.

— Crap, I hate when you’re right about this stuff.

— Hum…what was that you were saying about our captain again? y/n faced her friend with a teasing smile on her face. She couldn’t help herself. Always listen to what sh–

The sudden acceleration of the vehicle silenced Y/N. She felt grateful once again that her belt was keeping her safe. No day went by without her being in some kind of danger, but she never thought she’d have to worry about dying while Amanda was behind the wheel.

— Would you please stop doing that? cried the younger detective, her hands still clutching the top handle. And since when do you drive so badly? Damn it.

— Guess now you’ll stop driving like a maniac if I let you get behind the wheel.

The door swung shut before she could react. She stepped out of the car herself and walked over to Amanda. A vest was tossed in her face before she could even think about opening her mouth. But anyone who thought she would have given up so easily was wrong.

— I do not drive like a maniac.

Her friend gave her a knowing look as she closed the trunk. Now was definitely not the time to have this kind of conversation, but Amanda was glad her partner hadn’t lost everything that made her the person she was.

She was relentless, both in her work and in her personal life. To be defeated by a suspect in an interrogation room was a rare occurrence. Within the profession, many officers wondered about her career choice. They could imagine her leaving the field to terrify judges in a courtroom. Perhaps because they were themselves scared to death to face her. Seeking victory in a debate with a woman like Y/N was a waste of time. She knew when she was wrong, and would always acknowledge it. Nevertheless, she also knew when she was right. And in those moments, Amanda was the first to grab a bag of popcorn.

— That you do.

The detective’s hands found the velcro on the vest from memory as she was too busy glowering at her friend. The protection weighed on her shoulders. It was almost enough to give her a reason to fall apart. That, and the weight of life that was beginning to take its toll on her.

Slightly defeated, she stomped over to Amanda to catch up with her. She knew the other detective was right. Her anger was evident in the way she drove. Since then, she was assigned the role of co-pilot. It was okay. But she loathed being deprived of her usual distraction. It was starting to loop in her mind. She needed a way out.

— Detective Rollins and Y/L/N, Special Victims Unit.

Amanda shoved her badge in the man’s direction, half-expecting him to tell her to piss off. He dominated the scene with his large stature and a rank evident to all. The rookies were following his orders and keeping their mouths shut. Something that obviously wouldn't work with Olivia Benson-trained agents. He didn't seem to mind, guiding the two detectives as close as possible to the scene. But then, the mere idea of having to send men into the building made him raise his chin in an authoritative, disapproving manner.

— Our only witness is trapped in this building, Rollins began the fight, finger pointing accusingly. I don't care how, I want that man in custody.

If one of them had looked up for even half a second, instead of fighting over who had the biggest –which was obviously Y/N in this situation– they might have been able to stop the young detective in her tracks. Amanda had had enough of listening to the man's whining as he waved his rank in her face. And her colleague, the one she was supposed to look after, was tired of simply waiting.

As discreet as a mouse in the middle of the city, Y/N circled the building and quickly found a fire escape. It wasn't exactly what she'd had in mind when the impulse to walk into the building first came to her, but she couldn't really say she'd given it much thought. With a bit of imagination, and a little help from a trash container, she managed to pull herself up to the top. Now, maybe that was the beginning of a crazy idea. She could already imagine her partner and captain scolding her - if, and only if, she managed to get out of there alive and intact.

At the top of the stairs leading to the third floor, the detective stopped dead in her tracks at the sound of their suspect's agitated voice.

Thomas Patterson, 45, suspected of having violently abused his wife before killing her, and of abusing his stepdaughter - Johanne Morales. The man's profile was clear: a respectful-looking husband and father-in-law, loved by all, carefree, but once the door was closed he turned into a control freak with urges he simply couldn't escape. He clearly hadn't planned to kill his wife. The autopsy had revealed signs of haste and mistakes that a man like Patterson would never have made if he had prepared properly. But he had made mistakes. His blows had been too violent, Johanne had interrupted him, and he'd had to finish the job quickly - too quickly, in order to hide his crime.

Y/N had studied his profile carefully. That's what she did best, that and avoiding her captain. She knew he was restless, nervous, ready to do anything to cover up his actions. The final piece of the puzzle was to eliminate the only witness, the one who would go all the way to court to see him take the fall. She had an advantage over him. She was there, so close to the goal, and he was unaware of her presence. At least, that was until Amanda's voice came through the radio.

— Y/L/N, you've got two seconds to get your butt over here.

The young detective could have banged her own head against the wall. Boy, had she been stupid on that one. She clenched her jaw, the urge to bite her fist growing cumbersome as she prayed Thomas hadn't heard. But he definitely did.

A front door opened slowly, the creaking hinges betraying the building’s condition. The man was probably armed, the sound of the guard echoing in the empty corridor. Each of his steps shook the wooden floor and sent a current of adrenalin through Y/N's veins. He was getting closer. She could smell him and his perfume. Him and her fear.

As soon as he was close enough to round the corner of the stairwell, the young detective took this as her cue. She charged at the man, her hands reaching for the 9mm held firmly in his rough, bleeding hands. In a split second, the magazine slid out and collapsed on the floor. She sent it tumbling down a few steps with her boot, before landing a knee into the suspect’s parts. This only confused him for the briefest moment. He was on her again before she could even flinch. Her body hit the wall with a heavy thud, the vest shielding her body from the heavy impact. However, the man’s hands found her neck and tightened their grip, pulling her head violently forward and then pushing it back, slamming it against the concrete wall.

He repeated the motion twice more, the detective’s pleas of pain provoking a feeling he himself could not begin to describe. Y/N wasn’t done with him yet. He clearly wanted to lash out at a woman and had a nasty habit of underestimating them all. Only, today wasn’t his lucky day. He was forced into the apartment where he had deliberately tied up the young Johanne. It was his turn to bang into something. The dresser barely tilted behind him, but the vase crashed hard against the top of his skull. He felt the water run down his face, the smell of freshly bought flowers wafting through the air.

Back in a corner, Johanne tried desperately to struggle out of her bonds, her words puffed out by the duct tape over her mouth. She could only witness the struggle between her back-up and her assailant. Watching as Y/N unloaded all her pent-up anger on the man who had dared to cause so much harm. In one smooth motion, Thomas grabbed the detective’s gun, a triumphant glint in his eyes. Hope was soon lost, his chances of getting out of there alive and free close to zero. His opponent was relentless and had no intention of letting him slip away. His only option, he realized, a flash of light reflecting off the window, was to drag the detective with him in his fall.

Outside, Amanda was still arguing with the man in charge of operations. He hadn’t given up and neither had she. Only when, as the argument continued to escalate, gunshots were heard, followed by the shattering of a window pane, did they come to an agreement. The plan didn’t even have time to take shape before two bodies flew out of the building.

First, the blonde saw the man she recognized as their suspect crash hard to the ground, the collision knocking him down instantly. Then came a tremendous thump and the shrill sound of a car alarm. Straight ahead of her, on one of the patrol cars, had landed Y/N. The height of the fall meant that the roof of the vehicle had been crushed and some of the windows smashed. That wasn't what Amanda was most worried about. Her partner, the one who'd promised her she wouldn't do anything stupid – like jumping off the third floor of a building, was sprawled motionless on the broken glass, blood on the back of her skull.

— Oh my God, Y/N, in one stride, she was as close as she could get to her friend. Call an ambulance. Now!

For once, the man made himself useful, radio in hand, as he asked for help. He now stood with one, maybe two, even three victims to deal with if the detective didn't make it. He could already imagine the damage it would do to his career. Besides, he knew Captain Benson very well and had no desire to mess with her.

Needless was his worry. The more Amanda studied her friend, the more she realized how lucky she’s been. Y/N was simply stunned, staring at the New York sky with an uncharacteristic intensity. She began to laugh, full-throated, heartily. It was probably the adrenaline pumping again. Tears joined the party, leaving funny marks on her bloody cheeks. Suddenly, she remembered.

— Johanne. She's alive. Up there. Y/N looked up at Amanda expectantly. She needs help.

***

Captain Olivia Benson had seen enough in her career not to let anxiety get the better of her. She had been beaten, kidnapped, almost died and dragged through the mud in front of an entire courtroom. She had reached a point where facing certain types of suspects no longer made her lose her footing.

But someone was bound to make her lose it.

Briskly, almost to the point of knocking herself off her feet, she made her way through the corridors of a hospital she knew all too well. The distinctive clatter of her heels against the floor blended perfectly with the incessant beeping and distant hubbub of such a place. She wasn't there to see a victim, as she often was. Her hasty and agitated demeanor only aroused the suspicions of the medical staff who had crossed paths with her so many times. It wasn't just a professional matter.

It hadn't been for a long time.

When Olivia reached room 212, she didn't spare a moment's hesitation. One of her youngest detectives and latest recruit was sitting wisely on the edge of the bed, her legs wriggling in the air like a child's. A nurse was visibly busy behind her, dropping more and more glass flakes into her tray as she went. She leaned against the doorframe, arms folded tightly against her chest, eyes focused on the sight that made her stomach hurt in spite of herself.

She watched as Y/N's chest, covered in dried blood, continued to pulsate with every breath, as hematomas were already starting to spread across her face and torso, and as her plain face twisted in pain as soon as the nurse reached for another piece of glass. Just a few days ago, her first instinct would have been to rush to her protégé’s side and calm the agony she knew to be growing in her heart. But she'd vowed to keep her distance and stay in her current position: Captain Benson, unit chief.

All too quickly for the young detective's liking, the nurse finished her treatment and left the two law enforcement agents behind. Olivia had had the decency to wait until the door was closed before lashing out at her, which didn't stop Y/N from rolling her eyes. She'd already imagined this conversation - or rather, monologue - and knew she wouldn't come out of it unscathed. She'd probably lose her badge. No matter, she'd already lost her heart.

— Have you completely lost your mind? You could’ve been killed.

This was the cue for a lengthy sermon that she couldn't escape. The words left Olivia's mouth at a speed that seemed unbearable. She paced back and forth, her arms stretching out in waves of frustration and indignation, her cheeks rosy with emotion. She'd done some stupid things herself when she was just a rookie, but throwing herself off the third floor of a building had never been on the list.

— Are you done? y/n arched an eyebrow as Olivia finally paused. I saved a life today. While Amanda and that jerk were fighting over who had the biggest, which apparently I did.

— No, you refused to follow orders. Not only did you put yourself in danger, you put everyone's lives in danger. Heaven help us again that you were wearing your vest, otherwise it could have been a lot worse.

— I don't know why you care so much, you're just my boss!

Although these words were intended to hurt Olivia, it was Y/N who took the brunt of the blow. It was one thing to know that their relationship had been reduced to this, but it was quite another to admit it in person. The brunette was no longer entitled to worry so much, to ask her to watch out and send her a text as soon as she got home. Whatever had been was no more.

— Right, Olivia broke into an almost scoffing snort. Let me tell you, as your captain, that you won't be leaving the precinct for a long time.

— You’re benching me? Liv, you can’t do this!

— What you did was completely irresponsible. You don't want to follow orders, fine. But you're not leaving this desk without my permission.

The young detective had been holding her breath for a long time– far too long. She'd spent days avoiding conflict, lamenting in her corner, mourning the end of a story she'd thought would last forever. It wasn't just about what had just happened, it was something else, something more personal. She felt as if Olivia had no idea how to express her concern, as if her only option was to play the role of the big bad boss. But she was tired of hiding, of running away, of avoiding confrontation.

— Breaking my heart wasn't enough for you, uh? She rose from the bed, hastily putting on her jacket. If you want me to leave the squad, just say so.

For the first time, she faced her head-on. Head held high, eyebrows furrowed in frustration, ready to stand on tiptoe if that would help reach the brunette's height. She faced those brown pearls with all the courage she had left, her own eyes misty with tears she'd never let flow. This was it, so close yet so far, two souls who knew each other becoming strangers once again.

Olivia reached out with a last ounce of regret, brushing away a tear that had escaped down the young detective's cheek with the tip of her thumb. Her heart urged her to do more, to embrace this bruised woman, to bring her all the comfort she needed. She wanted to take Y/N home, wrap her in one of her shirts, tell her how much she loved her. In another life, where they were just two soul mates, where Olivia didn't have to worry about repercussions, whatever they might be. This was where she could find comfort.

— Go home. Take a few days. Get some rest. We'll talk about it when you get back.

The New Yorker had rarely seen a face shattered in a matter of seconds. Her words had urged Y/N to free herself from her hold, her head heavy and spinning from all the hassle and concussion she'd picked up from the blows. Her shoulder nudged her superior's as she walked by, a gesture of no little importance. She did not look back once to meet her former lover's gaze again.

Maybe she should have.

Maybe she would have seen the same love, the same tears, that Olivia saw in her eyes.

Maybe the ice wasn't so thin after all.

•••

Taglist: @electricboost @womenlovingwomen-imagines @hi-1-1-blog @emskisworld @enjoytheentireworld @arie109 @marvelandotheruniverseslover-adhd @philocalistwrites @wittygutsy @observeowl @ravennewlyn @tina-2005 @makkaroni221 @ssaaggwwaa @youdontknowwhotfiamm @mmmmokdok @hbkpop @micaluvssoccer @idk-whats-wrong-with-me-blog @nciscmjunkie @moonlightjxuregui @thefatobsession @12fluffybunny12 @scarletwitcher97 @thesamesweetie @idonothingallday @clozeliz @realgirlbossqueenslay @l4yne @rain-mikaelson @fanfiction-24824 @sammi1642 @inquisitive-nix @namelesscheshire

[daydreamingleclerc]

summertime; mick schumacher

mick and his girlfriend take summer break very seriously when they go on holiday with his fellow drivers.

includes; suggestive content, plus size!reader, bisexual!reader (mentioned), mick & pierre besties. pictures are NOT mine. all found on pinterest.

yn ✔️

liked by mickschumacher, pierregasly, lewishamilton and 2,009,729 others

yn mickschumacher don’t keep me waiting x

view all 746,927 comments

mickschumacher the only thing that will be waiting tonight will be the restaurant because 👀

yn hurry up and finish at the gym then, baby

pierregasly don’t you dare cancel on dinner just because you and mick want to fuck.

yn we won’t cancel! we’ll just miss the starters?

pierregasly i cant fucking stand you two

ynandmickslovechild oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god

landonorris the toilet roll on the bin really makes this picture

yn i have my tits out and THAT’S what you’re focusing on? lando lando lando

landonorris you’re dating mick ! i’m being a respectful gentleman

lewishamilton i’m not 👀

hamiltonslewis oh my good god mick is your girlfriend single

yn she wishes x

mickschumacher you what??

itselenaberri YN WOW

yn thanks baby <3

mickschumacher ✔️

liked by yn, ginaschumacher, georgerussell63 and 2,721,729 others

mickschumacher summer holiday mode with my girl 🤍

tagged: yn

view all 817,827 comments

ginaschumacher have fun you two! 🤍

mickschumacher thanks gina! 🙏🏼

yn i wonder why you posted this one…

mickschumacher 🤔🤔 hm i have no idea

yn liar liar pants on fire.

mickandyn “my girl” 🥹🥹🥹🥹

pierregasly if you two are gonna be at it like rabbits i’d rather know now because i’m traumatized after that plane journey

yn should’ve knocked x

estebanocon no funny business please 🙏🏼

landonorris we have more of a chance of pigs sprouting wings and flying

yn ✔️

liked by mickschumacher, francisca.cgomes, carmenmmundt and 3,271,038 others

yn it’s a good night when this dress comes out😍

view all 543,794 comments

mickschumacher it’s definitely going to be a good night for me 🥵

mickschumacher god. your ass is fucking massive

yn words of affirmation, your love language 😍

ginaschumacher can u not just say she’s pretty and move on.

mickschumacher no.

schumisgirlfriend idk what mick sees in you

yn i could tell you… but instagram would block me. stay humble queen x

hamiltonsricciardo mick saw yn in that dress and let his intrusive thoughts win. and i do Not blame him. i am no better than a man.

corinnaschumacher yn!! you are beautiful, this dress is gorgeous 🥳 make sure my mick treats you right tonight!!

yn thanks corinna🥹

mickschumacher i’ll treat her real nice mama don’t worry about a thing ❤️

mickschumacher ✔️

liked by yn, kevinmagnussen, ginaschumacher and 1,878,372 others.

mickschumacher great view 😍

tagged: yn

view all 234,618 comments

yn my personal photographer 🤍

mickschumacher with his own personal stash😉

yn the one time i tried to be romantic.

corinnaschumacher so beautiful!! 😍😍😍😍

micksangels he’s literally a yn fan account 🥹

yn he knows his place that’s why <3

estebanocon i beg of you to both just calm down please

mickschumacher no

yn ✔️

liked by mickschumacher, landonorris, lilymhe and 3,902,739 others

yn cheesin’ 😍

tagged: mickschumacher

view all 909,738 comments

mickschumacher i love you more than life

yn i know 😌

georgerussell63 oh. this is a very nice post

yn wish i could say the same about yours u dirty slut put ur muscles away x

hamiltonsangel yn i owe you my LIFE thank you for taking this picture

yn you’re so welcome bestie i’m so glad i could provide for u <3

landonorris why’s mick’s shirt blacked out

yn bc he had a pic of my tits on it

landonorris ffs

yn you walk into these situations lando it’s really not my fault

jackdoohan thank god you cut his meat grabbers out of the picture

yn MEAT GRABBERS HAHAHAHAHAH

yn you’re not wrong tho

mickschumacher are my toes really that bad

jackdoohan ……

mickieschumacher get someone the way mick looks at yn 😻

yn ✔️

liked by mickschumacher, lewishamilton, francisca.cgomes and 3,909,984 others.

yn full of cocktails but wishing i was full of something else 🤔 mickschumacher i’m waiting…

view all 582,010 comments

mickschumacher are you wearing any underwear?

yn i’ll let you work that one out x

mickschumacher check your messages.

pierregasly well… i’d have cancelled our plans too if i was mick

mickschumacher fuck you you’ve got your own

georgerussell63 fucking hell you’re insufferable when you’re drunk

yn i love it when you talk dirty x

landonorris i hope you mean full of food 😡

yn well… technically my mouth would be full..

landonorris how do i delete my eyes 😄

lewishamilton 👀

mickschumacher back off, lewis. she’s my girl, find your own.

yn 😻😻🤭

mickschumacher ✔️

liked by charlesleclerc, ginaschumacher, estebanocon and 2,098,618 others

mickschumacher soaking up the moments like this 🤍

tagged: yn

view all 231,794 comments

landonorris have you finally recovered from last nights post from yn, thought you were dead

mickschumacher you should ask yn, not me 😌

landonorris why is it always me

danielslando ANGIEEEEEEEEEEE

yn my babies 🤍 love you more than life

mickschumacher we love you too ❤️

ginaschumacher 🥹🥹🥹 you’re the cutest

pierregasly photo credits jeeeeeez

mickschumacher no

mercedeschumacher yn and francisca being close and simultaneously bringing together mick and pierre is my favourite thing out of this whole relationship

yn join the club xx

yn ✔️

liked by mickschumacher, ginaschumacher, carmenmmundt and 1,904,803 others

yn told you guys, he’s a beefcake now cause he carries my fat ass around. gonna miss you when you have to go and race again ☹️

tagged: mickschumacher

view all 642,093 comments

mickschumacher i wouldn’t ever want to carry anybody else 🤍

yn and i wouldn’t ever want to clean up after anybody else 😌

mickschumacher just say you love me ☹️

yn i love you x

corinnaschumacher such a beautiful picture of you two! can’t wait for you to come home 🥳

yn we can’t wait to see you either, corinna!

danielricciardo thanks for the photo credits 😕

pierregasly sucks doesn’t it

lewisandmick still don’t understand why mick’s into fat girls like u

yn fit* girls, ur autocorrect is fried x

estebanocon you two haven’t had any noise complaints for a while… is everything okay?

yn you’ll need earplugs tonight, micks feral x

mickschumacher 😳🫣

[vvynia]

a. anderson x black reader

pairing: beautiful hardworking provider abby x loving housewife reader

genre: fluff w/ allusions to smut.

word count: mmm idk but it’s short i promise

warnings: due to sexually suggestive content, mdni under any circumstances. otherwise, just pure fluff and maybe a twinge of angst if you get a microscope. also not beta read. if you see a grammar or spelling error, lemme know and i’ll appreciate it.

author’s note: this is my first time writing on tumblr! i was feeling excited and had a lil creative spark so here we all go. this was a draft for a good month and i spontaneously finished it instead of starting my nutrition assignments lol i hope ya’ll like it !! 💕

nah cause imagine being abby’s little housewife, basking in your femininity every. single. day. wearing long flowy skirts because you want to. learning to knit and sew and alter all types of clothes in your spare time because you want to. absentmindly mentioning some new hobby or skill that’s piqued your interest to abby over the dinner you made.

that night, you two shared in your routines because abby left work early that evening, trading a little shift-time with a coworker on an you owe me one pass. she didn’t hesitate to let everyone know that it’s because she wants to spend time with her wife.

she gets undressed as you draw a bath. it smells of ylang ylang and lavender with a dash of gardenia. epsom salts are added to soothe her muscles cause lord knows you do zero heavy lifting during your day or else abby glowers and coos about how “you could’ve just asked me, baby.”

working a well-lathered sapo sponge into her skin because the love of your life deserves the absolute BEST pampering and if she won’t give it to herself, you sure will.

you two head to bed that night in married bliss (after abby initiates slow, languid sex, of course. how could she not when your breasts were right in front of her while you ran that prickly ass cloth over her shoulders? she’s from around the way, she leaving with something)

you wake up before abby most days to prepare her a nice, warm breakfast (cause she loves and takes care of you so its the least you could do, really, to show how much you appreciate her), and today is no different. you try to be as quiet as possible but abby sleeps like an on-call soldier, like she’s in an active warzone and the enemy could strike at any time sooooo nine times outta ten, the faint cadence of sizzling applewood bacon’ll have her stretching out of bed.

but anyways she comes to you from behind as you mix a little pumpkin spice into the pancake batter, nestling her palm into the nook where your waist and right hip meet. her hair is down this morning, so when she bends to press kisses along your left shoulder, the tips brush along the neckline of your satin camisole. its a miniscule thing of material, hem reaching as far as the apex of your thighs. even the soft patter of her tresses against your body would be enough to tickle you, and they do just that.

you shy away, giggles on your tongue and happiness dripping from your wide eyes. you tell abby to shoo if she’s going to make breakfast harder. she smiles.

moments like these remind abby why she works so hard even on the days that demand more out of her—physically, mentally, emotionally.

she’ll do anything to make sure she keeps getting to hear you sound so pretty, so carefree.

[lirational]

Hello, I just found your blog, and as a fan of PTN, I wanted to see if you would be interest in indulging a request of mine.

Said request is a poor reader revealing their rather desperate financial situation to Chelsea or Eirene by accident, namely by accidentally showing them their crumbling apartment home or hinting they can't afford their medicine.

I also hope you don't mind if I decide to make my own take on the requests and suggestions I send you when I get the chance, orif I share them with others, as I have made a similar suggestion to a fic writer in ao3.

Regardless, I hope you take care and stay safe, and I wish you good luck in PTN my fellow Chief.

Thank you for the request, and gladly, go ahead and do your own take ^^ after all more fics in PtN is always good!

—

Chelsea x Reader and Eirene x Reader (separate)

Content warnings: might contain a bit of financial manipulation (particularly Eirene’s, though nothing NSFW. Regardless, exercise caution.

Countess Chelsea:

She found out when you got an unexpected call from your insurance provider when you both were on a date, notifying you that they would stop covering the cost for one of your meds.

You were always adamant about not relying on her for anything, and she was fond of this part of you, but still, you insisted that it’s alright, you can take care of yourself, and you will find a way out of this mess the way you always did whenever a similar problem came up.

This earns you a pinch of your cheek and a teasing remark, and she stopped mentioning it up to the end of your date.

Later at night, you receive a call, saying that there was a policy mistake and you’ll get your meds covered again.

Chelsea was evasive about it when asked directly, however, your guess was practically confirmed from the way she acts. She’s more demanding for cuddles, more willing to tease you for more affection. Part of this was from habit, as she would usually ask her sugar babies to do som embarassing things in exchange for her money, but for the most part? She wants you close.

I believe that Sitri would actually push you closer to her while you two were cuddling. Having a gem cat press on your back or body is certainly interesting, to say the least.

One thing is clear, after this, Chelsea will start paying more attention to you :)

Eirene:

There is no way that she wouldn’t have found out eventually. As the CEO of a supermassive company, she has to keep an eye on those she cherishes, or risk those people getting harmed by her competitors.

However, she is a businesswoman through and through, and it shows with the ‘aid’ she gave you. When you got drenched late at night as your roof gave way, she immediately responded, ordering her employees to take you to the best hotel right away. You thanked her afterwards, and she did bask in your gratitude, however, she keeps a ledger of the aid she gave you.

She takes time to visit under pretense of checking the hotel’s accomodation. In her words, a business under her company should always provide the best accomodation at all times and this was just a surprise inspection. However, you can just sense that she wanted an excuse to visit you.

Point this out, however, and all of a sudden, a vase in a corner somewhere would turn into a pile of dust, while her demeanor remained the same.

She loves you, truly, but a combination of wanting to keep you safe and her desire to have you culminates in giving you a contract, promising you will never want for anything as long as you work for her. Under several dozen pages of legalese, she hid a clause that you would surrender your entire being to her.

All the aid she gives are not free, and she keeps a ledger of how much you owe her. Write your name on the dotted line, and your life will become all that much easier~

[mooingmaddie]

Important things to know about my blog:

Thank you all for so much support and encouragement! I get lots of messages and questions everyday so I want to make a new pinned post to offer some clarification and information about my blog:

The first purpose of this blog is simply to document and share my gaining journey 🐮🐷

I am not using this as a dating site and I’m not really interested in dating or a relationship. 💔

I am a busy fat girl! I have several full and part time jobs in my real life and I eat and post whenever I can. I don’t have a lot of time for chatting and if I do, feeders/dropbox subscribers will get priority for what I hope are obvious reasons. If I do have time, I try to reply to all messages, but sometimes it just isn’t going to happen. 😴

I am a feedee, not a feeder. I admire and support all bodies, but it’s just not in my personal interests to provide dedicated encouragement for fellow gainers. 🍔

I hate labels but I guess I am considered bisexual but with a strong preference for women. Women are always going to get a response from me 😏

Last but not least:

No one owes you anything! You are not owed a response, an explanation, free content, or anything. This goes not just for me, but for all. Do not disrespect others and act entitled to their time or energy.

I also do not tolerate homophobia, racism, or discrimination of any type.

Hope everyone has a great daaaaayyyyyyyy ☺️

[blacksapphhicmaddonna]

HAPPY PRIDE MONTH, ALPHABET MAFIA

just a few reminders:

- first pride was a riot

- black & BIPOC queer people are the foundation of our entire nation and the global culture

- we owe most of our rights and progress to BIPOC trans women/femmes and different communities of lesbians, trans/gnc folks and elders.

- trans people have always existed, they are ancient and indigenous to many cultures and places and are SACRED.

- I’m glad you’re here and there is community out there for you, waiting with open arms. Don’t give up just yet, please.

- rainbow capitalism isn’t liberation

- we are all we have, be fucking better to each other

- lesbians have done so much for lgbtqia+ people and should maybe idk stop being erased for no reason

- biphobia is real and just bc your ex cheated on you doesn’t make it bi folks fault, you’re projecting babe

- being queer doesn’t dissolve white privilege, pls touch grass

- be safe at pride. they’re coming for us all and we need to protect ourselves.

- not everyone wants to use the word queer/dyke/fag etc. I’m glad you reclaimed the slurs used against you, me too, but not everyone wants to and you need to respect that. LGBTQIA+* exists for a reason.

- the black and brown belong on the flag.

- the A is for asexual/romantic or agender, not ally.

- get some pussy (or whatever you do (or don’t do)) and make space for joy! because black/queer joy is revolutionary and fucking righteous just as much as our anger is, too

- Juneteenth coming up too, issa parade in my city fr

- asexuals/aromantics belong at pride. Period. Full stop.

- safe sex is the best sex

- get tested!

- it’s okay to not watch the news. america is hell, go take a nap

- people 100% know themselves better than you ever will, people are who they say they are and you don’t get to decide that for them. respect pronouns, identity, etc. or argue w ya mama/god/someone else cause it ain’t finna be me ❤️

- you deserve relationships that feel safe and actually are safe. Don’t settle.

- learn your queer history. they won’t teach us. they took our elders from us.

- Black LGBTQIA+* history IS Black History.

- we all need to be thankful to the house mothers and the ballroom scene and those who gave us what we have now, regardless of who you are.

- don’t call yourself a stud if you’re not BLACK. wit a capital B and at least one BLACK parent.

- not everyone is out. happiest of pride month to y’all. you’re still gang and we love you just as much. 💗

- our collective liberation lies in the fact that we are all tied to each other. if you’re down for the gays but not the theys, you’re not as decolonized as you think you are.

- shout out to fanfiction writers who have been single-handedly providing queer art/content/representation for years while the industry continues to make a mockery of us or intentionally leave us out. one thing we gonna do is help someone find their queer awakening, and get that story right. love us 🤪 go team

- your life means something. it’s important beyond comprehension. you look good. your ass is fat (if you want it to be). get the mullet as a lil treat.

- LGBTQIA+* people across the board have ALWAYS existed in literally every culture and every continent (and Antarctica counts if you count the cute lil gay penguins😌). Don’t let them tell you different. We are not a “mInOrItY”, we have been MINORITIZED. we are not small, we are great and mighty and have ALWAYS been here. And we always will. We exist in the future just as we have existed in the past. We stand on the shoulders of MASSIVE collective ancestors. If that’s not an indication to keep going, keep fighting, keep laughing, dancing, voguing, and keep showing up authentically - then I don’t know what is.

- it’s gonna be ok baby. pinkie promise.

[astrialuvs]

"In the Shadows of Friendship"

➻ SYNOPSIS : Atsushi, battered and bruised in an orphanage, finds solace in your compassionate presence, forming a silent bond that provides hope amid the darkness.

➻ PAIRING : atsushi nakajima x reader

➻ GENRE : angst, comfort

➻ CONTENT WARNING : abused, slight bullying, mentions of cuts and wounds (idk what else to mention. please tell me if i missed one)

➻ WORD COUNT : 717 words

a/n: i hope i got the angsty ambience | (miss ko na siya 😔🤏)

"I heard he was punished for stealing candies. Tsk. Tsk."

In the dimly lit corridors of the orphanage, where shadows clung to the walls like silent specters, a young boy named Atsushi navigated the harsh realities of his life. The whispers of other children echoed in the cold air, tales of mysterious punishments inflicted upon him by the enigmatic directors.

"These candies. Where were they stolen from?"

"They weren't stolen..."

"Liar!"

Punishments with no rhyme or reason left Atsushi battered and bruised, a silent canvas of pain.

Among the pain and uncertainty that pervaded his life, there was a glimmer of hope that Atsushi could always rely on—you. As a fellow orphanage resident, your heart was filled with compassion, and you had taken it upon yourself to console the young boy. Your presence was a beacon of hope in his world, which often felt cold and unforgiving, every time Atsushi returned from a punishment.

You never dared to question him about why the director is always harsh on him. You lack the courage to do so. So you just stay by his side, offering aid and motivation to keep going.

One evening, after a particularly brutal punishment that left Atsushi's body aching and his spirit broken, he returned to his room. To his surprise, he found you waiting there in the corner, a small first-aid kit by your side. Your eyes held a mixture of concern and empathy, as if you could feel his pain as acutely as he did.

"Sit down, Atsushi," you said softly, your voice a gentle melody in the otherwise somber room, guiding him to a worn-out chair.

His gaze was fixed on the cold floor, an unspoken acknowledgement of the pain etched into the linoleum. You moved with compassion's grace, gently cleaning his wounds with the sting of an antiseptic, making him flinch. Nonetheless, he did not protest. He was aware that this was a routine, a ritual you had established—a brief respite from the struggles that haunted him.

"Why do you do this?" Atsushi finally inquired, his voice barely above a whisper, a delicate thread woven through the silence.

You came to a halt in your interventions, your gaze meeting his. "Because I can't stand to see you hurt. You deserve better than this, Atsushi."

A lump formed in his throat, and he turned away, unable to hold back the tears that threatened to fall like rain in a storm. Your compassion felt like a lifeline in a world that had shown him so little kindness—a lifeline he never knew he needed.

"You don't have to do this, you know," he grumbled, his voice heavy with emotion. "You don't owe me anything."

Your fingers brushed against his skin, a gentle touch that felt like a reassurance whisper in the deafening silence. "I don't do it out of obligation, Atsushi. I do it because you're my friend, and friends take care of each other, right?"

Your words made Atsushi's heart clench. Friendship was a foreign concept to him, a language he was only beginning to grasp. Despite his difficulties, you were a constant reminder that there was goodness in the world, even if it was frequently overshadowed by darkness.

As you finished tending to his wounds, the weight of the room seemed to lift. Atsushi's body felt lighter, as if your presence had temporarily relieved the pain. He looked at you, his eyes filled with gratitude and a newfound sense of belonging that warmed his heart's bitter caverns.

"Thank you," he said quietly, his voice genuine and heartfelt, a delicate melody in the silence of the room.

You gave him a small smile, your hand resting on his shoulder like a reassuring anchor. "You're welcome, Atsushi, but keep in mind that you're not alone in this." Your warm hand touched his pale, cold hands. A symbol of your support and affection for him.

At that moment, as the weight of his difficulties seemed to lift, Atsushi realized he had found a true friend, a beacon of light in the midst of his darkest days. And he knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, your unwavering support would guide him through, a compass pointing toward a future where kindness and friendship could triumph over the shadows that lurked in the orphanage corridors.

[itwasrealtome]

THIN ICE

Here's an extract from THIN ICE. Enjoy !

And here’s the full version

If you’d like to be tagged in the upcoming posts, please let me know in comments, my dm, or fill in the FORM. It’s free and I don’t bite :)

A/N : Question is : What mistake did Y/n make?

This afternoon, the streets seemed even more crowded than usual. The vehicles flooded the roads, coming from every corner and blocking the main way out.

Behind a queue of about ten of them, a police car came to a sudden halt. The alarm was on, and the blue and red flashing lights blinded anyone who looked in that direction.

But no one moved.

Not even the sound of a horn persuaded the citizens of New York to get out of the path.

Amanda’s grip on the wheel only tightened. She had never been able to understand the reason behind people’s insensitivity to this kind of thing. It was such an easy thing to understand. Besides, someone’s life often depended on it. Yet, there she was, turning furiously midway, her partner gasping in surprise, her shirt now stained with hot coffee.

— Dude, can’t you just warn before doing that kind of thing?

The blonde gave a brief glance to her passenger. She expected to find her glued to the door, her fingers clenched around the top handle, but she didn’t.

Y/N was desperately trying to absorb the contents of her cup on her worktop. The wipers provided with her order, finally finding their use.

While most people would have been annoyed about staining a piece of clothing, the young detective was not. She seemed much more upset about losing a few drops of her beverage. The former could still be replaced, but the latter was definitely needed.

— Sorry about your shirt.

— Yeah, well you owe me a coffee.

The driver’s smile only widened when she heard her partner muttering complaints. She knew her well enough to say that it had nothing to do with that slight accident. It was cute. Of course, it was. But Amanda could see through it. She knew it had nothing to do with the coffee. Sure, the days were long and their job involved finding stimulants to stay awake, but Y/N was never acting like that. Something was different. And who better to notice than someone who practically lived with her?

— Sure you’re okay?

— Rollins, it’s just a shirt. I think I can get over it.

Amanda gave her a knowing glance. She expected this kind of answer from the young officer. Everyone knew what kind of person she was.

Committed, she was always the first to arrive at the precinct and the last to leave. She was practically married to the job by now. And though Kat had trouble following orders, Y/N did not. She was the perfect partner. Amanda couldn’t remember a time when Y/N had lost control. But these days, everything seemed to fall apart.

It began with a couple of small comments, here and there, a bit too harsh coming from Y/N’s mouth. Next up, her silence during the team talk was a concerning factor for Amanda. If anyone always had something to add to the investigation, it was her. This ranged from a simple detail no one had noticed, to scientific or sociological facts. It was often complicated to keep the detective quiet, so her lack of involvement was bound to catch the eye. That and the fact the blonde had seen her leave the bunks two mornings in a row at the exact same time.

Sure, it was just the addition of minor details. But the older woman’s gut was not wrong, not about this. Something was wrong with her partner. And it had nothing to do with a simple lack of caffeine.

— Oh, don’t give me that kind of look.

— But you’re not telling me the truth, Y/N/N!

Y/N huffed quietly. At times in her life, she hated being around people whose job was to investigate. She cursed them all equally. She just couldn’t help herself the last few days. Her anger was aimed at a specific and unique person, but that person being in law enforcement themselves, it was almost overwhelming to go to work every day. Time seemed to run too slowly there. The only moments she enjoyed were those outside the building. The cold New York weather allowed her to clear her mind and take a deep breath. And she always had something to do, after all the city never slept.

—Like you don’t keep anything to yourself, huh?

Amanda faintly spluttered. Everyone knew she had had difficult times, but she wasn't the only one. And now that she was honest with herself, she knew she had made mistakes. One thing’s for sure, she did not want her partner to replicate these.

— I made some mistakes, most of them I don’t want you to repeat.

— I seriously doubt you did this one.

***

Taglist :

@electricboost @womenlovingwomen-imagines @hi-1-1 @emskisworld @enjoytheentireworld @arie109 @marvelandotheruniversesloveradhd @philocalistwrites @wittygutsy @observeowl @ravennewlyn @tina-2005 @makkaroni221 @ssaaggwwaa @supercorpstan97 @youdontknowwhotfiamm @mmmmokdok @hbkpop @micaluvssoccer @namelesscheshire @inquisitive-nix @l4yne @rain-mikaelson @idk-whats-wrong-with-me-blog @nciscmjunkie @moonlightjxuregui @thefatobsession @12fluffybunny12 @scarletwitcher97 @thesamesweetie @idonothingallday

[weirdly-specific-but-ok]

do... do you actually like harry potter?

im 98% sure that was you who had that in a pinned post at one time but i wanted to double check because i don't want to be mistakenly attributing that with you if it wasn't

That was probably me! I do like Harry Potter... eh, kind of. Well, I like the fandom. I like the fancreated content. I love the queer part of the Harry Potter fandom. Honestly I haven't looked at canon in years and I am very sure that I don't want to.

Do I like JK Rowling? FUCK NO. ABSOLUTELY THE FUCK NOT. I'm a trans guy and I hate, hate, hate how unsafe she made me and so many people like me feel. It's horrible, it's sick, and it's... yeah.

The trans people in the fandom, who persist in protecting that safe space they created, whose fics changed my life (saras_girl who writes drarry fanfiction literally saved me life, I would have... I wouldn't have made it without those stories that rescued me)... I like them. I love them. I owe them my life and my happiness in a very horrible time. Because back then, I didn't have the good omens fandom, I didn't have a queer support system, and ironically, the harry potter fandom filled that role for a long time.

So, well, there's the answer.

I'm so glad I've found the good omens fandom. I'm so glad I've found safety in this place.

If you're the same anon who asked me about JKR, I hope I provided a more comprehensive answer on that ask, which I'll link here.

[ultravioletqueen]

Hace mucho tiempo que escucho canciones del musical de heathers y mi favorita de todas es "i say no" ya que es cuando verónica reconoce que no hay nada que hacer con jd,reconoce que el no va a cambiar y que no vale la pena estar con alguien que la usa como excusa para hacer cosas malas,simplemente me encantan estas escenas en las que los personajes confrontan a sus parejas abusivas y reconocen que merecen algo mejor.

Ahora últimamente he vuelto a consumir contenido de she-ra y las princesas del poder y me doy cuenta de que ODIO EL CATRADORA Y TODO LO QUE TENGA QUE VER CON CATRA.

¿En que se relaciona esto con la canción de heathers i say no? Simple,esta canción es el ejemplo perfecto de como pudieron manejar la "relación" de catra y adora al final,catra es irredimible y adora merecía decirle sus verdades en la cara,solo dejaré la letra algo modificada para este escenario ideal que tengo de adora dejando a catra en el polvo por todo lo que le ha hecho pasar,no planeo traducir la letra al español porque sino sonaría muy raro.

Para esto me inspire en los post de @spop-romanticizes-abuse y @anti-catradora-collection

I have been listening to songs from the Heathers musical for a long time and my favorite of all is "I Say No" since it is when Veronica recognizes that there is nothing to do with JD, she recognizes that he is not going to change and that he is not worth being around with someone who uses her as an excuse to do bad things, I just love these scenes where the characters confront their abusive partners and recognize that they deserve better.

Now lately I've been consuming She-Ra and the Princesses of Power content again and I realize that I HATE CATRAdora AND EVERYTHING THAT HAS TO DO WITH CATRA.

How does this relate to Heathers' song I Say No? Simple, this song is the perfect example of how they were able to handle Catra and Adora's "relationship" in the end, Catra is irredeemable and Adora deserved to tell her truths to her face, I will only leave the lyrics somewhat modified for this ideal scenario that I have for Adora Leaving Catra in the dust for everything she's put her through, I don't plan to translate the lyrics into Spanish because otherwise it would sound very strange.

I was inspired by the posts of @spop-romanticizes-abuse and @anti-catradora-collection

(Adora)

"You are a drug

You are a poison pill

I’ve got to kick this habit now

Or else I never will

I hated the rush

When you would hold me close

And you will not be satisfied

Until I overdose

This is it

Hit the brake

I am finally awake

Let me be

Let me go

You need help

I can’t provide

I am not qualified

This troubled teen is getting clean

I say no"

(Catra)

"Adora, who else is gonna be-"

(Adora)

"No, no, no, no!

Don’t say a word

You speak and I cave in

You’ll twist the truth again

And drill deep down beneath my skin

You said you’d change

And I believed in you

But you’re still using me to justify the harm you do

This is it

Hit the brake

Call it all my mistake

Long as you let me go

You need help

I can’t provide

I’m not your friend

You’re not mine

It’s not too late

I’m getting straight

I say no!

Blame your childhood, blame shadow weaber

Blame the life you never had

But hurting people? That’s your choice, nobody to blame

But I believe that love will win

And hate will earn you nothing in the end

This is the end!"

(Catra,pulling out her claws)

"But I love you!"

(Adora)

"You-

This is it!

I won’t cry

Starting now, I will try

To pay back

All the karma you owe!

Start again

Somewhere new

Far from monsters like you

So goodbye

'Cause now I'm

Saying no!

Just in time!

I say no!

Somehow I’m saying no!

Just say no!

I say no!

No!"

[parkitaco]

ok people. i really don't want to have to be saying this but i am once again being struck by the lack of etiquette in the byler fandom and just in current fandom in general so i just. have to say something ok

first off i'm gonna say that fandoms come from a place of love and i know everyone most people have good intentions and love their fic authors but the etiquette around fics and art and all that lovely stuff is,, how shall we put it,, literally nonexistent.

listen. i love writing fic. i love that people like reading my fics that's insane hello?? i love getting comments and kudos and getting messages from ppl who are excited about my future projects it's great!!!

that being said, when i receive messages asking when things will be out/comments on wip wednesday snippets asking if the fic is out yet/messages asking me to tag them when the fic is published, regardless of how good the intentions are it comes off as very demanding and doesn't make me feel good as a writer who is doing this Voluntarily and For Free.

fanfic writers do this for fun!! we are not machines, we are people with our own lives outside of fandom and those lives have to take priority most if not all of the time. this means that yes!! sometimes fics take a while to write!! sometimes chaptered fics take a while to update!! and guess what?? that is totally ok. fanfic writers taking their time is not a bad thing. it means they care and are taking their time to create quality content. it means that they are spending time tending to their real personal lives, which is a normal and healthy thing to do.

there are plenty of posts about why demanding faster updates is bad, and i think that's pretty common knowledge, but i want to talk specifically about these very enthusiastic comments/messages/etc because i don't think anyone means harm but the thing is that fic authors simply do not owe you anything. we don't owe it to you to let you know when a fic will be out, we don't owe it to you to tag you when it is, and we definitely don't owe it to you to provide information that you can easily find out for yourself. as a writer i'm already putting insane amounts of pressure on myself and receiving it from other people, even if that's not the intention, is just not a good feeling.

especially because much of this information is readily available to you!! while you may not be able to find out when a fic will be out (which is probably because the fic author doesn't know either), you are entirely capable of checking the timestamp on a post to see how old it was, then using a little thing called Critical Thinking Skills to determine whether it's likely the fic has been posted or not. if so then great!! most authors have their ao3 accounts linked somewhere on their blog page so YOU (yes, you!!) can go look for the fic on ao3!! if you don't find it, ao3 has a super cool feature where you can subscribe to an author, so you'll get an email notification whenever they post!! and while you're there, if you're truly desperate for something to read, you can always go through the fics they've already posted, and if you've read everything there already and/or they haven't posted anything yet, check their bookmarks and see if there's anything there you like!! and as a last resort, there's always the trusty old search bar on ao3, which you are capable of filtering to every last preference!! the byler fandom is huge and there are tons of fics out there so undoubtedly something will fit your taste.

i know that can feel daunting, and i know it's disappointing when a fic hasn't been posted or updated yet, but the good news is that if you're seeing a snippet it means the author is working on it!! a little patience never hurt anyone, and taking those steps to determine for yourself what's going on with the fic rather than bugging an author who is just trying to go about their life and work on content during whatever free time they have just proves that you care. the simple fact of the matter is that fic authors don't do this for attention, they do it for fun, and therefore we can't cater everything to you or answer questions that you should find the answers to yourself. it's not our responsibility to keep track of people who want to be tagged when a fic is published or want to know when it will be out, because all our energy is going into creating the content you so desperately want!! i'm just begging everyone to be a little bit independent. asking an author for this information just shows you don't care enough to find it for yourself and this sort of laziness is part of why fandoms die.

tldr: fic authors are not machines designed to please you, use some critical thinking once in a while, and please for the love of GOD just go touch grass. breathe some clean air. you'll feel better i promise