#i try to be respectful of boundaries and err on the side of caution

[mybrainproblems]

i just wish literally ANY of my debunking posts made it past a handful of likes/reblogs. i'm not looking for plaudits or brownie points on this stuff, but i've spent a not-insubstantial amount of time tracking down the source of some popular rumors/conspiracies and have managed to piece things together by crowdsourcing info from ppl who were There in addition to my own internet dives.

i'm not even really begging for notes tbh, i just that i wish the info could get out there. it just gets annoying to see the same things that are honestly not that difficult to debunk keep getting spread around and see new people latch onto them and spread them, bc repeating conspiracies is more fun than fact checking (unless you're a freak like me who loves a good internet spelunk)

i'm not even mad at ppl or anything bc i get it! conspiracies are fun! i've even bought into a couple! but then when i went to source them, i realized that oop! there's not a good source or it's been taken out of context! sometimes it's stuff that's been distorted via fandom telephone! and sometimes it's a complete fabrication or intentional misinfo, which is wild!

i guess i'm just bummed that The Truth Is Out There and yet we're still seeing the same debunked things circulate within the fandom.

maybe i'd get more traction if i was confrontational about this stuff but i try to come from a place of curiosity and good faith and give ppl benefit of the doubt and assume that others are coming from a place of good faith as well unless/until proven otherwise. i'm also happy to revise my stance if folks can offer a decent rebuttal - for all the research i may do, i can still be wrong! i encourage other ppl to fact check what i'm saying!

there's plenty of stuff that i have theories about that are wholly vibes-based and don't even have anecdata to back them up, so i just... don't talk about those publicly so as not to spread them. or i make extremely clear that i am just spitballing or spinning a word salad conspiracy as a joke.

and yeah, this is specifically about spn fandom but it applies to the real world as well. misinfo spreads so easily and it's extremely hard to stop it spreading or debunk it once it reaches critical mass and/or it gets the illusion of truth by coming from mainstream news sites (or popular blogs). it just feels like ppl are becoming more and more fundamentally un-curious and refuse to exit the echo chamber both in fandom and irl.

[narcissistcookbook]

I mean this in the best way possible, but you strike me as a capital W Weird person. Yet you seem well connected where you live (iirc you host a pub quiz among other things?). How do you build a community when other people might find you off-putting? I'm asking this as a fellow weird person who feels super isolated where I live, and most of my friends live in my phone

Yeah I'm pretty weird. I think my approach isn't super replicable - I put a lot of energy into becoming a decent performer / host, and then kinda hung around events long enough to just become the host of them by default. The downside of that is I have no idea how to handle myself if I'm not in some sort of performer role 🙃

Making friends is very difficult. I know a lot of people but have a very small circle of friends. The default advice is good advice I think. Find societies or clubs nears you which have people with similar interests and go along. As counterproductive as this sounds, try not to be too keen to make friends because that can alienate people. In my experience the less you radiate I Need People energy the more people will want to get to know you. Be courteous and curious without being overbearing. Respect boundaries, and if you're like me and are unsure what is okay and what is an unspoken boundary err on the side of caution.

It's hard and scary, and by putting yourself out there you're going to find some people who don't like you, but by being yourself (or a slightly sanitised version of yourself) you'll find that the people who stick around are more often than not friend material 💜

[cazort]

Why "Men DNI" Excludes Transfem People, Is Unclear Communication & Promotes Gender Essentialism

I see increasing numbers of people on Tumblr saying "men DNI" and treating it like it's normal or acceptable to say this sort of thing. First I wanna say, I always leave these people alone. I don't message them, I don't comment on or reblog their posts. I err on the side of caution when trying to respect people's boundaries. But I want to talk about what comes up for me when people say this, and why I don't say this and why I don't really think it's good for anyone to say it.

I'm AMAB and nonbinary, and whenever people say "men DNI", I never know if, in their head, they think it applies to me or not. Plenty of people are overtly transphobic, and to them, all AMAB people are "men". And, me being transfem is like, the ultimate sin to these people, I'm a "man pretending to be a woman" and they will direct hate my way if they put me in that category. This is, BTW, one of the main motivators for violence against transfem people.

Some people (probably a much bigger group) are at least somewhat acknowledging of trans women and transfem people's identities, but in practice I know that many of these people don't really care how you identify, they just gender you based on how you present. And it's always a crapshoot, like do I tick enough of the "man" boxes in your head that you consider me a "man"? Cause that's really what it's about, it's not about who I am, it's about how your brain processes me. To a lot of people, even people who acknowledge the validity of some trans people, I am "not trans enough". I'm not trans because I'm nonbinary. I'm not trans people I look too masculine or not feminine enough. I'm not trans because I haven't chosen particular aspects of medical transition "that I would want if I were really trans". These are all things I've had said to me by cis women.

And I really just hate that. Like when you say "men DNI", you're asking a certain class of people not to interact with you.

But I'm not in your head. I don't know how you're going to gender me. So you're not expressing your boundary in a way that is actually clear to me. It's poor communication.

And like before some cis woman turns around and says: "You're overthinking this, you know very well that I am not talking about you I just am trying to discourage all the harassment from cis men." let me ask each and every one of these cis women: how do I know? How do I know that you're safe to interact with? I don't.

I live in a world where there are an awful lot of people who will direct a lot of hate and negativity at people for being transfem. And I never know who those people are going to be until they do.

This whole phenomenon parallels a thing that goes on in in-person spaces that advertise they are open to "women and nonbinary people". If you show up in these spaces and are too male-presenting (such as a nonbinary person, either transmasc or transfem, who looks sufficiently like a cis/gender-conforming man, or a trans woman who is gender-non-conforming and not conforming to enough norms to be consistently gendered female), people can sometimes react really negatively.

And I don't want to deal with this so I just stay out of these spaces.

This is why I perceive "men DNI" as a sign that not only I, but most trans people and most nonbinary people, are unwelcome. I think someone who really cared about trans people, including nonbinary people and AMAB transfem people, would understand these concerns, because they would have heard us talking about these things, they would listen to us, and they would care, and as a result, they wouldn't say something like that. It's like, a statement that ends up reinforcing gender essentialism and gender conformity and is just kinda hostile towards queerness in general. Saying it is like one of the strongest ways to advertise to me that you are not safe for me to interact with.

[enbyleighlines]

hello! i'm so excited to get to participate in a prompt thingy, they're always closed by the time i find out about them. uhh, how about ikesoren, withdraw? not the most original choice i guess, but i did a random word generator and this was one of the ones that came up and even though i kept going with it my brain was stuck on "withdrawn." thanks so much for doing this!

I actually think this is a perfect headcanon prompt for ikesoren, so I hope you don’t mind that I filled out a response for your first ask anyway.

So we all know that Ike and Soren both have a tendency to emotionally withdraw from others when something is upsetting them. Ike did it when his dad died, and Soren did it when he found out about his heritage. And they both try to respect each other’s boundaries. At least, to a point.

It’s difficult to judge whether a person needs space, or if it would be better to just press the issue. When Ike is withdrawn, Soren errs on the side of caution, and waits diligently until Ike feels ready to confide in him. Meanwhile, Ike will give Soren space in the beginning, but if the problem doesn’t resolve on its own, he will start asking Soren to talk to him.

As stubborn as he is, Soren doesn’t react well to this, and tends to clam up even further, even when all he wants is to confide in his boyfriend. It’s like an instinctual response. If he’s in pain, he hides.

And just like in canon, this might go on for a while before Ike finally presses hard enough and Soren confesses everything, which tends to involve a lot of crying on Soren’s end. Ike will hold him and comfort him, and things will go back to normal.

After a while, though, Ike becomes understandably frustrated with this song and dance. So they talk it out.

What they decide is that Soren will always have an “out”, a sort of safe word that means that Ike is pushing too hard. But otherwise, Soren grants Ike permission to pry as much as he wants, as soon as he wants, because he knows he will eventually feel better once he confides in Ike. Additionally, if Soren goes nonverbal, then that also means that Ike needs to immediately back off.

Now, Soren does promise to try to be better about just sharing his feelings in the first place. Unfortunately, when he’s feeling hurt, it’s hard for him to get out of that primal mindset of withdrawing to protect himself. And Ike understands that, so he doesn’t take it personally.

It’s an unconventional system, perhaps, but it works for them.

[stonebutchstories]

Inside stuff

Douglas (he/she, stone butch top) Allie (they/she, stone butch bottom)

long term monog relationship, vanilla, clothed (both are in boxers and t-shirts), physical contact, use of pet names, kissing, biting, hair pulling, bottom with sensory issues and non-specified anxiety around sex, light penetration, stimulating genitals over & under clothing. Character changes their mind about an act and their partner respects the boundary. Characters use varied terms to describe their genitals, you can read into it whatever suits you.

Allie wants to test their limits and Douglas is eager to help.

“Douggie.” They knock on the archway- there isn’t a door.

I smile in spite of myself. I know Allie likes my silly split tooth smile, and she doesn’t have to try hard to see it when that need strikes her- everything she does is brings it out.

“Yeah?”

“Can I talk to you about something?”

They’re pressing their back firm into the wall, trying to self-soothe. Difficult subjects make them like this. Even hunched up and compressed into the slightest form they can manage, Allie’s still practically 6 feet tall. I shut my laptop.

“Yeah, ok. What’s up?” I can’t lie, I’m a little nervous from this ‘we need to talk’ business. Trying not to be, though.

Allie sucks in their teeth and fidgets with the hem of their shorts. They wear basketball shorts around the house with old band shirts, but with that shaggy mussed up hair hanging in front of their eyes, they look mysterious and alluring. I try not to show my nerves, since theirs are driving their whole body to tremble.

“I’ve been thinking and I um. I think I… wanna try…”

They trail off, making intense eye contact with the floor. I don’t rush them. After a moment, they slide down the wall, still pressing their shoulders firmly back.

“Do you want some water first?” I offer a bottle from the pack on the table. They nod.

I walk over to them and they grab the bottle without looking up. Allie is soft spoken, but I wouldn’t call them shy in most circumstances. They’re friendly and intelligent and altogether wonderful, but there are times where they take a while to be ready to speak. I don’t mind. I’m patient with my baby.

After a few sips, they clear their throat. I sit criss cross beside them, and they lean their curled up from into me. I haven’t been able to see their eyes yet.

“I think I want to do… inside stuff.”

I nod. I have no idea what she’s talking about.

They reach to cover their mouth with the flat of their palm. This is taking a tremendous effort.

“Y-you know… inside?” They sigh exasperatedly, burying their head toward their knees. “Please don’t make me say it.” They sound on the verge of tears.

I put a hand on their forearm. “Hey- hey. It’s ok. Umm… do you wanna write it?”

“No, I-“ they sigh. They lift their hands above their low-slung head. With their first finger and thumb and the first finger over their other hand, they make a lewd gesture, in and out. You know the one.

“Ah. Inside stuff.”

They told me they have only tried penetration once, long before we met. Allie is stone, and part of that has always meant that it was off the table. I’m wondering why the sudden change, and I ask as much.

“I don’t know, lately I’ve just wanted to try it.”

I hum, unsure if touching them right now would be comforting or disconcerting. I err on the side of caution and leave them be. It’s hard to imagine why Allie wants to try this when the word alone petrifies them. I kind of wonder if it isn’t someone else’s idea.

“Well, you know I’m willing to help you try it, I just wanna make sure you’re asking for yourself and not because you think you have to.”

They lift their head a little. “I know you’d never make me do it. I think that’s why I feel okay trying with you.”

I smile, opening my arms to them, if they want to be held. They do. We sit like we do sometimes when things are tough, them straddling my lap with their chin tucked over my shoulder. I squeeze my arms around them across their torso and they heave a sigh of relief.

“I’m happy you feel safe with me. That’s all I could ask for.”

“ I just don’t want you to feel like you’re missing out on-“

“Hey.” I squeeze them. “None of that. I love you.”

Allie sighs again, and I feel the tension of the conversation drain from their body. They must have been obsessing over how to talk about this forever.

“So, was this something you wanted to try tonight?”

Allie chuckles, breaking the atmosphere. They lean back on my knees. “God, no. I feel like I just got hit by a bus. I need to lie down after this.”

“Yeah?” I brush a little hair from their face and there they are- brown eyes warm with sincerity. “How about this then. The banana bread is almost set, let’s just eat and watch a movie tonight. Whenever you wanna do inside stuff, you bring it up to me. I won’t mention it unless you do first.”

They roll their eyes and smile. “God, you’re such a dyke.” We kiss, deeply and softly. “Banana bread on the couch.”

“What’s wrong with that?” I ask in mock exasperation.

“Nothing. Absolutely nothing.” They lace our fingers together. “Yeah, let’s do that.”

——-

It’s only a few weeks before it comes up again. Meantime, we actually start having sex a lot more, just in the way we normally do. I think they want to work up to it, and I obviously don’t mind more frequent hot sex with my girlfriend. When they’re finally in the right mood, they tell me over text during work. I tell you, I spent the rest of my day floating about a foot off the ground, and no amount of screaming customers or people paying small tabs with big bills could ruin it for me.

I got home later than normal, but still on that cloud. On the way back from work I got them a bouquet. Half because I want them to feel special and secure, and half because I need something to hold in front of my face when I walk through our front door. I’m nervous too.

They tuck my curls behind my ear and kiss my forehead.

“Thank you, they’re lovely.”

Allie kisses me, tugging me up onto my tiptoes. With the height difference, we have an easier time kissing when we’re lying down, and that’s where we’re headed anyways. We have our typical night in, maybe a little sappier than normal. We luxuriate in intimacy, talking over dinner in dark and quiet tones. Allie set the table like it’s a holiday, candles and fixings set out in our nice plates and bowls. I hold onto their waist while they do the dishes (there are always more when we do fancy dinner) and we talk about our days. It’s hard to even conjure a memory of the day before I came home, all the unpleasantness has been totally erased from my mind. I flip on the electric kettle before we go upstairs, remembering absently that it’ll be nice to bring them tea later on. Allie notices and thanks me in advance, kissing and caressing the back of my hand. They pull me by that hand up the stairs and into the covers.

I turn on music on my little Bluetooth speaker and pat the sheets beside me, nestling their back against my chest. It’s easier to talk when we don’t have to look each other in the eyes, confronting shame head on. We have to access vulnerability through the side door, tricking our conscious minds out of the spiral before it starts. We talk some more.

“How do you wanna do this?”

Allie muses. “I think… it’s better if I cum before, like, the normal way. I cant just do it off the bat. It’s too much.”

I nod. Privately, I’m very happy to hear them refer to our current sex life as normal. It means a lot to them to be able to feel like that. To both of us. And I’m not one to turn down a chance to make them feel good.

“And then when we do it, I might want to stop suddenly. It’s not, like, out of fear or because of something you do, Im just new to this and I’d rather not go far enough than go too far on our first try.”

“I get it. We can always stop at any time. When you’re ready, what do you prefer to use for inside stuff?”

Allie pulls my arm over their waist. “Mmm… fingers?”

I smile. “How many?”

They reach for my hand, unfolding my pointer finger from my palm. “One, to start. Maybe two if it goes really well.”

They trace up and down my palms and forearm, making me shiver. I’m very sensitive in my hands.

“Okay. Anything else to note?”

They chuckle. It’s a little formal and choppy, the way I talk about this. I don’t care about sounding sexy before we’re in the act. I want to be sure of what I’m doing.

“Yeah, I um. I need you to be really soft. With words. And talk me through it.”

“Like praise?”

“Yeah. Just encouraging stuff, ‘good boy’, all that. You already know. Say that I’m okay, everything’s okay. I kind of … phase out otherwise. Like, I start thinking about other stuff, and feeling guilty, and it just ruins it.”

“Mmm.” I pull them in closer.

“And, Douglas, if this is too much-“

I shush them. “What you need is not too much.”

“I know, I already know, all the therapy crap. Trust me. I just feel like I take the fun out of it, for you. Sometimes.”

They’re hitting on this point, this kernel of guilt that they’ve mentioned, but never in specifics. I don’t know what to say that won’t sound like armchair psychiatric pleasantry.

“Do you wanna do me first?”

They hum, a gentle questioning sound.

“Yeah, we can do that. How do you wanna-“

I intertwine our fingers, clasped firmly at their waist.

“Like always.”

They turn to face me, still averting their eyes. I shuffle around the waistband of my boxers, starting to touch myself over the fabric. Allie lays a flat palm on my stomach possessively.

We both have issues being touched directly sometimes, so on most other nights we take care of ourselves. It’s very hot, taking care of ourselves together. Something about holding your lover, listening close to how their body reacts to certain touches and movement. I kind of imagine I’m watching them do it alone, like I walked in on them nested up and needy in my sheets while I was away. Too concerned with cumming to be concerned about anything else. Desperate. I think about them spotting me watching, coaxing me into bed beside them to enjoy the spectacle up close. Sometimes if I’m lucky, they undress a little for me, letting me observe their index finger glossing up and down their pent up cock. Their bare chest rubs against mine as they rut fast and faster, whimpering into the crook of my neck. Fuck. They give me a lot to work with.

“Gonna be so good for me tonight, right baby?” I tug at their hair, tipping their face towards mine.

“Yea.” Their voice shrinks in quiet awe.

“Yeah?” I grunt, thumb swiping over myself from over the fabric of my boxers. Allie strokes the soft hairs on my happy trail. I’ve never had a partner who thinks my body is sexy in the way that Allie does. Maybe it’s something about both us being butches, but in other relationships I had always been made to feel like the big hairy butch, like an aggressive and indelicate lover. Allie says every part of me is soft, and she loves it that way. My tone of voice, my hairy legs, my double chin. It’s not easy to feel perfect. Allie does that for me.

I kiss them deeply and passionately, chuckling at the way they fluster and falter slightly when I slip my tongue in, and then settle into me and press back more insistently. They brush my bottom lip with their tongue uncertainly, so I pull their mouth closer still and prop my thigh between theirs.

“God, baby, I can feel how fucking hot you’re getting.” I mumble into their mouth. Their boxers feel wet over my thigh, and they press their hardening cock into me to grind.

“Mmmh.” They bite my lip a little, relaxing into this familiar rhythm. Their hand massages my thigh, squeezing and kneading all my usual sore spots. Their hips move slow, dragging their wetness in lazy and lax motions. I throb at the feeling.

“Feels good?”

“Very good.” They nod, still whispering.

They sit up slightly, bracing elbows on either side of my head to grind down harder.

“Cute boy, humping my leg.”

I rub my thumb over their exposed waist in a polishing motion. The touch is enough to make them gasp, buckling a little. I growl possessively.

“You look so good doing that.”

They curl their face away from me, starting to flush red. They love the praise, but even still they can’t take a compliment.

I work my hand into the pocket of my boxers, eager for a little more touch. Allie watches with intensity. I work up and down, getting accustomed to the feeling, and getting a little more shameless about how much I enjoy myself. I’m not very loud, and I don’t have to be- Allie leans into my every wavering exhale. Their eyes dart between my parted lips and their own hand at my shoulder, itching to creep back down my stomach. I know what they’re thinking about, what they wanna do.

“Do you like to watch me touching myself, baby?”

Allie locks their ankles around my leg, wrapped up into my side and grinding down hard. They hum a little affirmative ‘mhm’.

“You wanna taste?” A little edge in my tone, some derision. I can tease when the mood strikes me.

Allie whines, making me smirk. “Awww, already? Already that bad? Slow down, pretty boy.” I still Allie’s hips, slowing the desperate rut theyd already fallen into. It only makes them whine harder.

I lift my hand from my boxers to Allie’s chin, tipping them to face me. We pause to look at each other for a moment, and I revel in the depth of Allie’s eyes- pupils blown wide and dark, with fleeting awareness of anything outside this room fading from them. They’re so ready to be good for me.

“Close your eyes, baby. Just feel it.”

Their lids snap shut heavily the moment the words leave my mouth. When it feels good, when it REALLY feels good, Allie does what I say without hesitation. It’s hard to be embarrassed when you want it bad enough.

I tug their chin with my thumb. “Open.”

Allie doesn’t suck my fingers, not that that’s what I’m looking for. They just open up and let me touch. I trace the pad of my fingers up and down their tongue, feeling it’s warmth and wetness, the way they try to keep it still as I prod further. I see their eyebrows knit as the wetness spreads over their tongue. They tune in to fixate somewhere between taste and touch, melting into me. They don’t speed up their hips, but they start winding them in a figure eight, stuttering every time they brush a sensitive spot.

I slip out of Allie’s mouth. “Taste good?”

They’re too needy to respond with anything other than trembling moans. I push their jaw up slightly, angling in to their neck to leave some marks. It’s that kind of night.

Allie’s legs tighten around my thigh. I don’t want to bite too hard, so I switch between leaving hickies and running my tongue up their neck , stopping to whisper praise in their ear. My thigh is getting slippery.

“Ahh- thought we were doing you first?” Their voice is strained and high pitched. I get the sense they’re ready for more, and want to make sure I’m taken care of first before they’re too deep in it.

I chuckle. I like to draw it out and take my time, so I know we’re both all the way in before we really get going. This kind of night needs a big build up. That being said, I’m embarrassingly close already. I touch myself more.

They lean their forehead into my cheek, at the right spot for me to be able to hear their quiet ‘ah’s against my skin. Im always silent when I touch myself, especially when I do it alone, but Allie can’t help themself no matter how they try to stifle it. The way they try to stay quiet is so cute, I absolutely adore it. I squeeze their ass, dragging my nails down along their thigh to the back of their knee. Allie shudders, disrupting the quick little bunny thrusts they were making into my thigh.

“You’re doing so good for me, baby.”

Allie says nothing, just tightens their arms around my shoulders. I scoot down further to get a better angle for my fingers. Every stroke feels warm and electric, familiar and thrilling. Allie cranes to leave little kisses under my jaw.

“Say that you’re mine, baby. Tell me it.” My voice rumbles out between heaving breaths.

“I’m yours.” No hesitation. Fuck.

“Again.” I grasp Allie’s inner thigh, raking my nails across the soft skin just inches from where they really want to be touched. Their body curls out and I feel the soaking wetness of their boxers on the back of my hand.

“I’m yours.” Allie takes a a fistful of my hair and tugs. The shock of it rockets up my body, lighting up nerves and feelings of pleasure all over me.

I cum with a strangled moan, with Allie pulling my hair to arch my back off the bed. It just makes me cum even harder. My arms are wrapped over their shoulders and I squeeze as hard as I can.

“Mine. Mine.” I insist, finishing with choppy thrusts. They know how to make me feel good.

I feel Allie’s chest collapse into me, pressing me down as I try to catch my breath. They wrap around me tight, ankles crossed around my upper thigh. If I stood up now, if my legs could do anything but shake, I’m sure Allie would be frozen in place on my thigh.

“I love when you cum holding me.” They prop up to look me in the eyes, assertive.

I exhale. “Yeah?” My arms snake around their waist, ready to flip them under me. Maybe in just a second, though. No need to rush.

Allie matches pace with me, still swirling their waist but in slow and labored movements. I push them against me insistently.

“It’s really hot, baby.” The corners of their eyes crinkle up in a cheeky smile. “Your hands are really- really strong.”

I laugh a little. “Are they?”

“Yeah, you’re all big and strong.” They squeeze my bicep. “You make me feel taken care of.”

I sigh. “You, too.”

Allie doesn’t fight me on it, like I know they typically would. Its nice to feel like the gentleman, and it’s nice to feel like you’re being romanced, though it’s hard to have both. Does Allie know that despite all the misplaced embarrassment they feel for the way that they do it, that I think they’re fantastic at this? I pull them in closer and kiss their forehead. That’s about as close as I can get to saying stuff like that out loud. I think they know, though, from the way their shoulders release and they exhale till our chests are as close as we can physically manage.

After a moment, I sit up a little, rearranging us while still clasped tight so Allie’s on the bottom. They grab my wrist and direct me where to go, rubbing a thumb over the top of my palm as they place it over their boxers. Not under, yet.

I can feel the wetness that had been against me even better with my hands, and with confident familiarity. When I brush Allie’s sensitive spot, I can feel it pulsing. I pull them into another long kiss, tasting the way it makes their mouth water. The heel of my palm is flat on their waistband, soft and straight hairs peeking out the top. I trace a lazy corkscrew over them with my ring and pointer fingers.

“G-god, fuck-“ Allie throws their head back. “Like that.”

“Like that?” I go a little faster, and Allie whines.

“Baby, please,” Allie sputters. “I want it so bad.”

“You want what?”

“I want you to make me cum. I wanna cum from you, baby, make me cum.” They plead dizzily.

I trace a fingertip under their waistband, making them shudder.

“This ok?”

“Yes. Please. Just, fuck, Douglas- oh my god.”

Like I said, Allie isn’t shy in the right circumstances. I like it a lot. My hand reaches underneath their boxers. They hold on tight to my wrist, muttering in waves that peak in pitch when I press my hips against them more.

My fingers meet their wet cunt and everything else stops but the thudding I feel in my chest. I bite my lip and suck in a breath hard.

“Jesus Christ, you’re so fucking wet. That’s hot,”

Allie whimpers, tension going slack as they open to my touch.

“That’s it, baby. Let me take care of you. Let me make you feel good.”

Their legs part wider and I can’t keep my composure. My hips start thrusting on their own. When I feel them dripping on my fingers I grunt into their neck, leaving some deeper bite makes over the hickies. My baby’s hips pitch up and down, seeking more. I rub side to side, slippery fingertips sliding over Allie’s throbbing cock.

“Please. Please.” They whimper.

“You being a good boy for me, baby?”

“Yes, fuck-“ I slide their cock between my pointer and middle fingers, holding it in between to stroke. “Yes.”

“Yeah, you are. So well behaved. So pretty. Trying to keep it together when I touch you.”

Allie kisses me desperately, and I bite their bottom lip. Their hips pitch in all directions, rhythmic thrusts falling apart. I stroke the sensitive underside of their cock with my middle finger. I can taste the way they salivate. The direct stimulation is so very much, almost too much to handle. Allie writhes.

“God, fuck-“

“Gonna cum?”

Allie grits their teeth. They nod, moans growing into growls. I love how they go from whiny to deep when they’re about to cum.

“Cum for me, baby.” I press and flick against their throbbing little cock. I can feel how hard they are now, at the edge.

Allies thighs snap shut around my hand and they throw back their head.

“Ahh, fff—“ They can’t get the words out.

“Good boy.” I catch the flat of their face in the palm of my hand, and they nestle into the touch and the praise. Their orgasm takes their whole body, curling in on itself and involuntarily tightening. I don’t stop stroking them, enrapt in the sensations and sounds. They’re quiet until it breaks over them, and then they’re panting and moaning like diver who came up choking for air. Only then do my fingers still, cupped around their pulsating wetness.

We both catch our breath for a minute. Allie’s arms fall heavy to their sides.

“You ok?” I kiss their forehead, sweaty hair plastered to their skin. “You did so good for me.”

Allie hums, slumping into my chest. Still a little out of it. Maybe that dizziness and pleasure flips a switch in them, because suddenly they’re acting very different. They’ve gone deep into desperation, leaving all shame and shyness behind. Moaning like a whore.

“I want you inside, baby. Please.”

I stop dead. I’ve never heard them say something like that. It does something for me. I’m pulling their boxer briefs down their legs before I realize it. I want to be inside Allie too. They can just keep going sometimes, over and over till we pass out and the sun rises.

“Here?” I trace my fingertips to their wetness, and they shiver. They’re not as chatty now that they’ve cum, they just want to be docile and good. Our waists meet again, thrusting stilled. I want to be able to start small.

I run my hands up and down their flushed body, and feel the velvety texture of their stretch-marked thigh on my palm. There is something so sumptuous and intimate about touching and not being touched back, a total immersion in someone else’s body. Not just mechanically, but immersion in the sensation of their body. Noticing the way they arch and bend. Warm skin getting warmer with each consecutive movement. Sorting out the sensitive spots. It’s even more engaging with stone partners. We’ve been having sex for years, but before today we’ve never felt like penetration or direct touch was necessary to be totally together. We don’t go ‘all the way’, but itd be wrong to say our sex lives are incomplete. Actually, it’s the opposite. It’s something so complete I lack words. That’s just like me, though. Speechless.

“Gonna go inside, okay?” My fingertips are at the ready, testing the tightness of Allie’s dripping cunt. They nod.

When my finger breaches them slightly, they shout a little. It startles me.

“You ok?”

“K-keep going.” Allie covers their face in their hands.

I move slowly, kissing their collarbones and wrists. Allie is extremely tight, and the pulsing heartbeat I feel wrapping around my nerves is deep and fast. Maybe because they just came, and maybe because they’re nervous to be doing this for the first time. As my finger creeps further in, Allie’s moans transform again. They sound soft and vulnerable.

“I got you, baby. You’re ok.”

Allie pulls out foreheads flush, and I slide all the way in. They wrap their arms around me and their mouth flies open wide. I kiss them on the needy, messy, desperate open mouth.

“How’s it feel?”

“Ah, god- it’s so much.” There are tears in their voice.

“Too much?”

“No, Just-“ They pant. “Slow. Please.”

I oblige carefully, slowly sliding in and out, curling my pointer finger into their soft walls. I’ve never touched them like this before, so I’m flying blind. All that I can think of right now is how Allie asked me to talk them through it, so with every movement I mumble soft praise into their ear. They start to relax every time I whisper ‘good boy.’

“How do you like it, babe. Tell me.”

“Like this.” Allie explains with a tremble in their hands and their voice. They trace against my bare skin in the motion they want me to try, which I mirror as best I can.

“Yeah, that’s how you like it, isn’t it, pretty boy? You feel so good. I love taking you like this.”

“O-oh fffuck.” Allies cunt tightens fantastically around me, barely giving me room to thrust or stimulate with just one finger. I keep placing soft kisses all over them. I let go of my eagerness and allow this to move at a more comfortable pace.

I continue for a while, earning soft sighs and enjoying the desperate throbbing. There’s no rush, and no objective. It would be nice if Allie could cum from this, but there’s not an expectation that they have to. We’re trying something very new and very intimidating, and the most important part is that it’s enjoyable. So when I notice their moans starting to go quiet and their nose crinkle into a wince, I stop.

“You ok?”

Allie nods. “Y-yeah, but I think I-I’m done now, that stings-“

“Okay,” I retract my hand slowly, trying not to cause any pain. “Okay. We’re done.”

Allie sighs in relief, and when I’m all the way out, they kiss me gently.

“Thank you.”

We nestle together in bed, my wet fingers still in Allie’s boxers. Our breathing evens out as the atmosphere of sex evaporates, leaving us behind in a lazy embrace. I suddenly notice the music on the speakers again, which had been playing the entire time. At some point I must’ve tuned it out, but here it is again. It’s something Allie likes, all smooth and folksy. They like the steel guitar bends and the jazz chord progressions. I think they’ve convinced me to agree; whatever’s playing when I look in my baby’s eyes is my favorite song.

After some rest, when I think we’ve both come down a little, I get curious.

“So… What made you want to do inside stuff? It was sort of out of the blue.”

Allie holds me close. “You have to not laugh.”

“I won’t.”

“It was because of Loren’s new boyfriend.”

I snort on accident, and Allie shoves my shoulder playfully. Loren always has a new boyfriend every time we see him.

“Don’t laugh! That’s not even the funny part.”

“I know, I know. Sorry. tell me more.”

Allie huffs indignantly. “Loren and I got dinner like, two months ago, and he kept telling me about how his new boyfriend and him were having this crazy amazing sex. I think I got sort of jealous.”

“Jealous?”

“Not of, like, their relationship. I mean, I was jealous because … Loren looked fantastic. He was actually glowing. He had that post dicked-down glow.”

I promised not to laugh, but now I’m cackling. It’s alright, Allie is too in spite of themself. I know Loren, and I know the phrase ‘post dicked down glow’ is a direct quotation.

“You wanted to try it so you could have better skin?”

“Not skin! I mean like he looked happy. Glowing in a happy way.”

“Awww, baby.” I hold Allie’s head in my hands. “You get the glow too. It’s just not from like, the act of being penetrated. It’s just dopamine.”

“Am I glowing right now?” Allie fluffs their hair, fake showboating. With the giggling and closeness and everything we did just moments ago, the answer is a resounding yes.

“Oh, it’s a whole firefly type deal, babe.”

They laugh and shrug. “I dunno, it just made me kinda wonder if the reason I hated inside stuff at first was because of the person I was doing it with. I thought that since I love you and trust you, and my dysphoria during sex has gotten a lot better, this time I’d change my mind.”

I pause. “Well… did you?”

Allie considers for a moment. “Mmm. Somewhat. It was fun for a minute, then it just hurt and made me feel kinda bad. But that first minute was a good one.”

I rub their shoulder. “Did I hurt you?”

“No, not really. It’s more like… sore? It’s not anything you did, I just don’t enjoy how it feels very much I guess. I think I still need to figure out a way of doing it that’s more comfortable for me, if there is one. And even then I don’t think it’s something I’d do a lot. It was fun to try, though.”

I wrap my arms around them. “Well, there’s no rush. And I’m always willing to help in whatever way you need.”

Allie holds me right back. They heave a sigh. “Thank you. Today was perfect.”

I can feel the strain of tension in their muscles melt away. Maybe some would be skeptical that sex that wasn’t necessarily pleasurable at the end could be perfect, but I know that the trust is what does it. I pull the quilted duvet over us. Allie dozes off after a moment, consumed in warmth and closeness. When I’m sure they’re comfortable, I shuffle out to grab them a cup of tea and wash my hands. Before I step into the hall, I linger in the doorway for an extra moment. Low lamplight frames their face, honeyed and content. That’s my baby.

[red-shepherds]

Quick tips on how to engage with art in a meaningful way--by just some guy

Hi! You may be wondering why I've gathered you all here today. Well, I haven't seen any posts about this making the rounds recently, and it's a pretty big thing for me, so I figured I ought to grab my bootstraps and do some hauling, you know? Preface: this is intended to boost interaction with artists that are going to see what you say; don't bother, if someone is reposting their art or the like. As well, unless someone says critique is welcome, don't go for hard critique; that's mean and rude.

Tips and tricks are as follows.

Take a moment to stop scrolling and actually look at the art. There's lots of #content out there, but art isn't exactly the same as a listicle. Someone put time and effort into it, whether it's a lovingly hand-sculpted 3d image of Bowser's cock, or the Amogi as the twelve disciples. It's worth the effort to just look at it for a while.

If you're going to reblog it, try to notice something you really like. This goes more into the analysis side, and analysis is a skill that I'm not equipped to teach for all mediums. If it's a drawing or painting I can though, so think about the composition, the lighting, how the lines or lack of lines work. Do you really like the detail the artist put into that one thing? The outfit a character is in?

Let the artist know in the tags or in your reblog. Yes, we read tags. I'd advise not being playfully rude, unless you know the person and are certain they're okay with it. Your complements don't have to be coherent. It's at this point that you should take any negative comments you have and discard them; if you really, really want to critique the artist, please ask if they're open to that before you do. It's a weird boundary, but a lot of us are just having fun.

You can always say something feral but positive, *if* you're sure it will be recieved right. I'd generally advise that if you and the artist don't speak the same first language, it's a good idea to err on the side of caution. You can tell me you're going to eat my art! But if someone doesn't know what that means, it can be genuinely threatening; that was a problem on...Pixiv, I think, a bit ago?

If you're going to critique an artist, don't just tear them down. Try to do a compliment sandwich--say one nice thing, one thing that needs improved, and another, separate nice thing. Focus on what the art is trying to do, and how it accomplished that, rather than what you think it should be trying to do.

Have fun with it! I know engaging this way can be an absolute pain in the ass, but here's the thing: every piece of art you see took genuine, concentrated effort. It was time and work. We don't put art out there without hope, most times; we aren't robots producing content in an endless, mindless stream. I referred to it above as content, jokingly, but I'm not a content creator, I'm an artist. They mean different things. Please treat art and artists with respect and decency, and please consider letting us know what you think of our art.

[cowboyjen68]

hey jen! good lesbian morning! im sure you've answered this question tons before so sorry if its a repeat. ive been out as a lesbian for years and years, but i still experience guilt in my attraction to women. i feel predatory and like im doing something i shouldnt be. even though im not blatantly staring or anything, it feels like im being a bad feminist or something when im attracted to a woman ill see passing by. do you have any tips on moving past this hangup? i dont want to feel bad for something i know is beautiful

Happy Thanksgiving and lesbian good morning. I never get tired of repeating or reemphasizing the shared struggles lesbians have in this world.

Just the other day I was talking to a lesbian friend about how, in high school, we purposely kept ourselves as "small" as we could and kept our eyes down partially to not be noticed but also to not be "creepy". We held guilt for "objectifying" or finding a woman attractive. It felt like we were breeching her boundaries by thinking she was physically attractive without her permission.

This feeling did not go away when I came out or even as I gained more lesbian friends. I can't be sure where this all comes from but I can hazard a guess that is a cumulation of many things we are exposed to from a young age

In western culture, and probably many, young women are warned by our older women family and friends to beware of the strange man. That strange men can be dangerous. We see men in our lives praised for dirty jokes about women, boys are encouraged to "kiss and tell". Girls, then women, see all this.

Many of us know how it feels to get unwanted attention. Or at least have friends that have experienced this. Everything from cat calls to aggressive advances or harassment in places of work, public spaces and even in our homes.

We gain empathy through these shared experiences. Basically we know how gross it feels to get unwanted attention and we do not want to be the one to cause that feeling. We feel predatory EVEN when the woman has no idea. We take on guilt because we want women to feel safe, especially around us.

You are not alone and this is so common. My older lesbian friends taught me that natural attraction is not predatory. It is beautiful. Finding women attractive is beautiful (this actually goes for men or women), it is how we handle it that makes the difference.

Taking no for an answer with grace and brevity.

Complimenting women on things they can control, clothing, haircut, accessories, things they put effort into not on things they can’t help or change. 

Read the room. If she is giving hints she is not interested (backing away) trying to end a conversation etc) take a hint and err to the side of caution by excusing yourself from her space. 

As far as attraction without her permission:  Your natural attraction and sexual orientation is just that, natural and your orientation. It is normal and healthy for you to find other women sexually attractive.  Her being unaware is okay. We are human and fantasizing, dreaming, imagining and crushing about real people in our lives is just, well, human.  It only becomes predatory when we push the boundaries of another person and let it be known that we will not respect her wishes. 

We only are creepy when we are violating her privacy, Spying, consistently breaking social boundaries like asking inappropriate question of friends or even her. “Is your friend single?” is ok. “Is your friend a lesbian?” Also okay. “Is she into (something sexual)? is not okay. Creepy is literally the act of creeping on someone instead of just communicating interest. 

I hope this helps/

[bean-chaointe]

More thoughts on oaths and some basic terms to start negotiating from.

I do believe that not every spiritworker has to have personal cultus with gods, and even if they do, there's no actual template for what that has to look like unless the spiritworker in question belongs to a lineage/tradition that says otherwise.

(My previous rambling about the pros and cons of oaths: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/view/bean-chaointe/675523497936699392 )

That being said, if someone's in a position to be swearing oaths with entities (and they've done the div, and talked to the beings they need to talk to for guidance/permission, and the oath isn't a prescribed one from their tradition, etc etc), I thought I'd offer some of the shit I find helpful.

Some of the...template?...below is based on my own shenanigans with various entities and being a former legal advocate. A lot of it is informed by my yaya (religious elder) being not only similar in neurodivergence to me but also formerly pre-law and a kinkster, and xir sensibilities just reinforced mine. 😂

I always write my oaths down, including the terms I ask from the other entity, and I try to negotiate making sure that the following is always included. Some of these may not be applicable to everyone, and that's fine - they're my oaths, not yours, lol - but I offer my "terms try including in every oath with a god" basics as an example of what you could have, in case any of them are new ideas.

I swear to:

Listen when you speak and take your words under sincere consideration

Speak of you and our relationship with respect and dignity

Work on deepening my understanding of our relationship in this life in ways we can negotiate as needed

To extend the same assumption of good faith as I ask from you in return

To take responsibility for any occasions in which I make a mistake or fail to uphold my half of this oath

To discuss renegotiation of the terms of this oath if you ever feel it necessary.

[additional terms as relevant to any service, the relationship between me and the entity, whatever else; this includes duration of the oath or other time-bound agreements]

I ask [entity] to swear to:

Not to put me in a position of having to break my oaths with other gods and spirits

Respect my autonomy, my boundaries, and my perspective both as an individual entity and as a currently embodied living human, and to discuss conflicts over those things with good faith and mutual consent

Assume good faith when I make a mistake unless there’s concrete reason not to

Be honest if there's information you can't share with me, rather than misrepresent a situation by intent or omission

Be a source of support, protection, and guidance in ways which are rightful, blessed, and in harmony with my other oaths (feel free to expand this in more detail, since you may have specific ideas of what this does - or doesn't - look like in practice**)

Discuss renegotiation of the terms of this oath if I ever feel it necessary

[additional terms as relevant to service, the relationship between me and the entity, whatever else]

** For example, if someone goes to the Morrigan like, "Give me strength," even odds you'll end up tossed into the deep end of a rough situation because nothing teaches you what you're capable of like survival pressure. 😅

The bits about assuming good faith when mistakes are made and not misrepresenting a situation are rooted in some past personal trauma of mine. If you have specific emotional vulnerabilities which may get stepped on or even triggered, I think it's worth tossing in some language around those so that you can rest into knowing where the boundaries and expectations are clearly set.

(Seriously, the worst time to try figuring out relationship stuff is in the middle of a crisis. Better to hope for the best but plan for the worst, imho.)

When in doubt over something, I err more on the side of caution than a blank check of trust. But there may be times when being more freeform about it is part of your relationship with an entity, such as my own with Badb, which is where taking plenty of time to build trust, understanding, and shared communication norms is really helpful so that those blank checks of trust don't feel more like the Sword of Damocles hanging over you.

("Hound, you sound like a goddamn therapist" - well, for one, I'm a peer counselor, so are you really that surprised, and two, DAMN RIGHT, DO YOU REALIZE HOW OFTEN PAGANS AND SPIRITWORKERS GET THEMSELVES INTO ENTIRELY PREVENTABLE FIXES WITH THEIR GODS AND SPIRITS BECAUSE THEY DIDN'T TAKE THE TIME TO JUST SLOW THEIR FUCKING ROLL. 😤Oaths aren't for everyone and that's okay!)

Anyway. This isn't comprehensive (some oaths can be really specific and detailed, and I've seen some which include descriptions of consequences for either side breaking an oath), but so far I've found these to be a decent starting place for negotiating several of my own spirit relationships.

[persephonememes]

* (  THE SEVEN HUSBANDS OF EVELYN HUGO /  SENTENCE PROMPTS

people think that intimacy is about sex. but intimacy is about truth.

never let anyone make you feel ordinary.

i’m under absolutely no obligation to make sense to you.

don't ignore half of me so you can fit me into a box.

don't do that.

it’s always been fascinating to me how things can be simultaneously true and false, how people can be good and bad all in one.

sometimes reality comes crashing down on you.

heartbreak is a loss. divorce is a piece of paper.

when you're given an opportunity to change your life, be ready to do whatever it takes to make it happen.

the world doesn't give things, you take things.

you have to find a job that makes your heart feel big instead of one that makes it feel small.

please never forget that the sun rises and sets with your smile.

you’re the only thing on this planet worth worshipping.

be wary of men with something to prove.

the cruelest thing you can do to someone you love, give them just enough good to make them stick through a hell of a lot of bad.

you wonder what it must be like to be a man, to be so confident that the final say is yours.

i think you're brilliant.

i think you're tough.

do yourself a favor and learn to grab life by the balls.

don’t be so tied up in trying to do the right thing when the smart thing is so painfully clear.

you can be sorry about something and not regret it

the world respects people who think they should be running it.

if i want things to change, i have to change how i do things. and probably drastically.

people are messy, and love can be ugly.

i’m inclined to always err on the side of compassion.

you can’t tell a single thing about a person’s true character if you both want the same thing.

no one is just a victim or a victor. everyone is somewhere in between.

just go knowing you were loved, that i will never forget you.

you were my best friend.

nobody deserves anything. it's simply a matter of who's willing to go and take it for themselves.

why have i spent so long settling for less when i know damn well the world expects more?

taking pride in your beauty is a damning act.

forgiveness is different from absolution.

sometimes divorce isn’t an earth-shattering loss. sometimes it’s just two people waking up out of a fog.

if there are all different types of soul mates, then you are one of mine.

i am absolutely positive that i need you more than i’ve ever needed another living soul.

i loved you so much that i thought you were the meaning of my life.

i thought that people were put on earth to find other people, and i was put here to find you.

i don't want to be meant for someone like you.

that’s the part i was stuck in, the part where you accept the apology because it’s easier than addressing the root of the problem.

it will be the tragedy of my life that i cannot love you enough to make you mine.

it’s a hard business, reconciling what the truth used to be with what the truth is now.

you're an idealist and a romantic, and you have a beautiful soul.

i wish the world was ready to be the way you see it.

i wish that the rest of the people on earth with us were capable of living up to your expectations. but they aren't.

the world is ugly, and no one wants to give anyone the benefit of the doubt about anything.

i love you too much to let you live only for me.

i’m cynical and i’m bossy, and most people would consider me vaguely immoral.

i spent half my time loving her and the other half hiding how much i loved her.

it shouldn’t be wrong, to love you. how can it be wrong?

i think being yourself—your true, entire self—is always going to feel like you’re swimming upstream.

you could be a nobody living in a cardboard box, and i’d still love you.

i simply didn't care. it cost so much, caring. i didn't have any currency to spend on it.

some marriages aren't really that great. some loves aren't all-encompassing.

the media are going to tell whatever story they want to tell. they always have. they always will.

charisma is charm that inspires devotion.

you’re not really famous if anybody still likes you.

you should know this about the rich: they always want to get richer. it is never boring, getting your hands on more money.

the truth is, praise is just like an addiction. the more you get it, the more of it you need just to stay even.

you have to push people’s boundaries and not feel bad about it. no one is going to give you anything if you don’t ask for it.

when you’ve been bested, sometimes it’s good to recognize it and move on.

no one goes around throwing caution to the wind unless the wind is blowing their way.

the easiest lie to tell is one you know the other person desperately wants to be true.

pictures speak very loudly. in general, we can almost never shake what we see with our eyes.

we all can’t go around treating people like dog shit and then expecting that a simple i’m sorry erases it.

guilt is a feeling i’ve never made much peace with. i find that when it rears its head, it brings an army.

when i feel guilty for one thing, i start to see all the other things i should feel guilty for.

accepting that something is true isn't the same as thinking that it is just.

[purrypuppy]

!! Remembered I can make a pinned post!!!

25, they/them, trans, butch

DNI: most men*, if you’re bio says something like “32 | Male | Location” then just DNI, pls?

DNI anyone who doesn’t actively support and protect trans women (honestly I’m going to be suspicious of most people who aren’t transfem and/or dont have content about loving and caring for transfem ppl) and uhhhh idk probably lots of other people.

Posts that are tagged ​❗️MEN DNI❗️are from an OP with men listed in their DNI. It always indicates men should DNI; but lack of it does not equate to permission because I will miss some posts.

Feel free to state in your DNIs if your comfy with nonbinary people interacting or not :3

*men can interact but if a post says men DNI then DNI etc etc; asshole men DNI obv; men who lgbtqaetcetc are welcome-r than men who aren’t; if ur a man and ur genuinely, kindly, respectfully concerned about me being bothered by you interacting, then 99% chance ur okay to be here <3 if ur nice about it u can always ask and I’ll, idk, vibecheck u or something lol

I like to respect DNIs so if I fit your criteria, I am very content to be informed or blocked or whatever you like. I try to err on the side of caution but I dont always know how to interpret DNIs that I partially fit into. I try not to interact if it says "DNI if you aren't attracted to men" because Im not super into men but like... my sexuality doesn't exclude men, it's just fickle and whimsical lol. Same for blogs that say "DNI if you're not wlw" cos I am nonbinary and I'm not w but I'm lw and I don't feel misgendered if wlw think IM hot so like maybe I am functionally somewhat w or at least on the fringes of wlw (and I do ID as butch, but it's in a very nonbinary way) so like, idk. I don't know what exact gender or sexuality I am lol. I just work here. But I do try to calculate my position in relation to a DNI, and if I get the wrong answer, its okay to tell me. I will simply respond with "oh, my apologies. Thank you for communicating your boundaries, I will use this information to respect them better." Or u can block me, i don't mind at all and I likely will not notice.

💜TAGS💜 the tag for my content is pppyprrs which is supposed to be read as puppy purrs but idk lol I don’t know what I’m doing. Videos are pppyv. Photos are pppyp. Non thirsty talk is usually tagged pppyrambles :3 audio idk yet

You have my permission to send me: any kind of message ;3 anons should be on, also DMs are welcome. Asks only pls :3 no DMs for now :3 non-sexual messages only. "Hey I have a toy recommendation" is okay; "Hey I'd love to use this toy on you" is not.

I'm! oupy. Previously stone butch, melted by my femme, but I’ll always have rocks in my heart and an extra soft spot for other stones. Furry (dog-cat-fox-bunny-deer-dragon-something), full of I Gotcha Sweetie Youre Safe With Me vibes, queer, sapphic (?), into women, into nonbinary genders, occasionally into men (or sometimes just really enamored with transmen's bodies bc i have a similar body and sometimes its less of a "you fit into my sexuality" and more of a "goddamn i would be content to see those features on myself" especially tdicks oh my god they're so 😳 ....anyways)

Uhhh I forgot if I had more to say about because I thought about dick :3 sorry so that is all I suppose :3

🌸💜🌸💜🌸💜🌸💜🌸💜🌸💜🌸

[dreamsclock]

Hullo! I have a question, which I figured I'd ask you since you're a writer on Tumblr I admire (and you don't have to answer if you don't want to!) I've been a writer for years, but I never got into posting on Tumblr, so my knowledge of etiquette is a little loose. Do you have any tips for posting works on Tumblr? I have some dsmp works that I would love to share on here, but I'm not very confident in what tags I should be using. I guess my question is: tips???

P.s. Love your works! Your stuff is very cool, and I'm a big fan of your writing style cause it's so nice and pleasant to reads! The pacing of your works is just MWAH *chef's kiss* Like, I adore your writing! 💜

thank you so so much !!! i always struggle with pacing so i’m glad you like it sm :D you’re so kind !!

that is a good question lol — i do have a few tips for writing and posting it here :)) first, make sure not to use the general “minecraft” or “mineblr” tags, because those are for general minecraft unassociated with the dream smp and like having their own space !! secondly, the tags #dream smp, #dsmp, #dream smp fic, #dsmp fics, and any combination of that, along with the characters’ names, are usually good at helping you get noticed, along with a ship tag, if there’s a ship involved !!

make sure to put your fic under a read more (only accessible on desktop iirc) or a #long post to stop it taking up a lot of people’s screens — it’s more accessible that way :))

here’s an important one — if there is triggering content in your fic, make sure to tag it. overtagging triggers is better than undertagging, in my opinion: if you mess up and a) forget a trigger or b) don’t put any triggers, and someone asks you to, just add it, no big deal !! it’s just a good habit to get into !!

respect content creators’ boundaries is another good important one!! some ccs don’t like to be shipped, some are uncomfortable with fanfic altogether, some have very little boundaries: try looking on twt or tumblr for their boundaries, and if you can’t find anything, ask around !! if that still proves fruitless, err on the side of caution and don’t write it (and always be mindful that ccs might change their boundaries, so if they ever rescind their “okay” for fic, you may have to delete!)

and just have fun honestly — i’ve listed a lot of ““rules”” and stuff here but honestly as long as you’re having fun and being respectful then go for anything :D i hope this helped !!

[princessozera]

How likely the Obey Me boys are to FIGHT you

Summary: Like the title says, most to least likely to fight you early in season 1. ((Old so my opinions on the characters have changed a bit)).

GN MC (2nd ppov)

Word count: 880

Belphegor

I’m not saying I don’t trust him, I’m just saying I find him really hard to read. His reactions in both canon and fanon tend to be on one of those old metronomes, swinging for either “why do I care?” to “HOW DARE YOU”

The first hit could probably be accidental, he does try his best to not lose his cool around you anymore. Or if it’s an accumulation of things from throughout the day and you just push him over the edge.

Most likely to slap you with the closest item to him, so often a pillow, but is also the type to grab your upper arm really tightly and knock you on your ass with one hit.

Proceed with caution.

Lucifer

I’m sorry Lucifer stans, I love him, I do, but honestly he has some of the worst temper control out of everyone. 

Not only that, he will not hesitate to murder to protect his family. Lucifer has truly seen some shit so he errs on the side of hella caution when it comes to protecting his family. Teasing him by suggesting that you could ruin his family won’t end well for you if he has some baseline genuine respect for you. He only puts his faith in formidable people, even if you don’t see it yourself, so he would take the threat seriously.

Seems the type to pin your arm behind your back, backing you into a corner to threaten you as out of sight as possible, and if you won’t concede- snaps your neck.

Asmo

Weird, right? I didn’t think I’d put him up this high, but I feel like I should give this man more credit than he’s getting.

We all love the Asmo that does soft things; trying not to cry so he won’t get a puffy face, trying not to do manual labor so he won’t break a nail.

But don’t get it twisted. Asmo has plenty of hills he’s ready to die on, and don’t let that cute face let you believe for a second you can get away with disrespecting him. Try to push a hard boundary or disrespect his loved ones, he’ll show you that those nails don’t just look sharp.

With a tongue as sharp as his nails, for most petty fights he’ll resort to verbal assault and isn’t above ruining more than a few social lives to put people back in their place.

Satan

Conflicted, but I do think Satan needs to be on the upper half of the list.

While it’s undoubtable that he has amazing self control, and yes he’s much more mellow after the video game incident, but anger issues, no matter how much training and discipline is practiced, can have some  nasty, unpredictable flares. 

It probably won’t really be your fault, any  other day he’d let it slide or it wasn’t even infuriating to begin with. 

Heavy hitter, trying to maximize the pain while he’s got you in his grasp- breaking knee caps, dislocating shoulders and the like.

Levi

Temperamental to say the least, “passionate” if I’m being kind, isn’t above swinging at you over some harsh critique of his favorite shows and characters. 

The only reason Levi comes below Satan is that while he would fight more often, he won’t go as all out. Feels greater joy in petty attacks, it’s all about the disrespect for him. Scratching, slaps, tripping you with his tail, low punches. Also prone to summoning Lotan to drown you.

Beel:

Turning point in this list for temperaments and motivations to fight.

Usually, he’d never fight you. Even if he considered you a threat to himself and  his brothers, he knows his strength, he’d most likely restrain you from behind while trying to get you to calm down or get his brothers to figure  out if someone was manipulating you.

But I raise you this; accidentally triggering him. Not by eating his custard/chips, or whatever, but doing something to genuinely cause fear and panic in him.

I will not elaborate. :)

Barbatos

Barbatos has amazing self control, with very little truly peeving him off. The only reason he’s here is because he’d jump in to fight you if you ever tried to attack Diavolo, although the young prince is more than capable of handling himself against a mere human.

Diavolo

He has amazing restraint; while we only meet the demon lords of the house of lamentation, I doubt they’re the only demon lords in the entire Devildom. He’s had to deal with rude and artificial bitches for an eternity at this point, so he can keep himself in check. But if he feels like you’re anger shouldn’t merit this reaction, you could probably piss him off enough to get him to fight back

He’d mostly try to avoid your hits, trying to get you to wear yourself down before he straps you to a chair to interrogate you about your behavior.

Mammon

Mammon would have to, beyond a shadow of a doubt, believe that you were a threat to his brothers before he’d seriously start trying to fight  you.

He’d  try to restrain you the best he could, letting you hit and scratch him while his brothers tried to find out what was making you act this way.

[seancekitsch]

Ebb & Flow

part 2 for Heat. diego x reader

warnings: angst, hints of diego’s self loathing, low key set in the prize buck universe but obvs not the same reader character, drinking, oblivious idiot love birds, unprotected pre-marital missionary, edgar allen poe reference, corny ass shit

Four days pass, and every day he debates trying to reach out to you. He wakes up in a cold bed that feels empty without you. But he doesn’t; because you made it very clear you did not want to sleep with Diego Hargreeves specifically. He decides to try to go back to what his life was like before you fell into it. Before he fell for you. He tries to pretend that hair pin (which he’s now tucked away into a drawer) isn’t literally haunting and taunting him every second he’s in his boiler room bedroom. It’s hard for him to sleep or function with it in the room with him, like it screams it’s presence as a trace of you. The hair pin is a tell-tale heart of all of Diego’s misguided feelings and how he so severely misread the situation between the two of you. The hair pin is the constant thrumming of his mind telling him over and over that of course you’d never feel the same way as he does. You were a therapist, he was a gym janitor. Of course you’d tire of slumming it with a man that regularly plays crime fighter at night. Diego is constantly reminded of you even without seeing the hair pin because he just knows where he put it. And that address. That damn address carefully written in blue pen on the back of one of your business cards. Would it be wrong of him to still look into the warehouse? You had to have left it for him on purpose, you had to have taken it out of your bag and left it there purposely on the bed; there was no way it could have fallen out of the bag that was on his table and onto the middle of his bed as you were leaving. Diego tries to bury his thoughts of you in vigilante work, tries to stay out late. He succeeds and returns just before the gym opens in the morning. When he finally gets back to his boiler room, Al offhandedly mentions that a woman had inquired about his whereabouts. Part of Diego desperately hopes and wishes it’s you, but he doesn’t do anything about it. You probably don’t actually want to see him. Or it's one of his sisters. Probably just Allison or Vanya. Family stuff. Maybe they had another dad die or something. 

Twelve days later, he finally works up the courage to call the owner of the warehouse to ask about pricing and zoning if he wanted to start his own gym there. He had enough in savings that he could have moved out of his current situation and into a studio like Klaus had, but he wanted to put as much money together for his own gym before he thought of himself. He could sleep peacefully alone on a cot in a gym that he happened to own. The current owner remarks that he had heard Diego would be calling, and says he likes the idea of a gym going into the space there. He thanks the man, and they strike a deal, talk about a title and deed change to be drafted and signed for the beginning of the next month. Diego unofficially owns his own gym now. Normally he would be calling you to celebrate, but instead he dials and hopes the landline at Klaus’ apartment is still connected. Klaus’ partner answers and congratulates Diego, and invites him out to the bar with them this weekend. Diego’s voice declines before his mind can stop himself. Maybe because he didn't want to celebrate with anyone but you. 

It’s fifteen days later, Friday, when Diego regrets not going to the bar with Klaus and his partner. It's Diego, a six pack, and that damn hair pin having what looked more like a pity party than a celebration of a major life event. But maybe that's not the worst thing, now he can focus himself for the job ahead, get a good night's sleep. Well, he would have gotten a good night's sleep, if there weren't suddenly shouting coming from the hallway outside his door. 

“Klaus, I don't want to be here!”

That was clearly, unmistakably your voice. You were outside his door and vehemently expressing that you wanted nothing to do with this place. What were you doing with his brother? Oh, right. Friday night at the bar. He was supposed to have been there too, but he bailed. 

“Well it was either this or you officially become part of my harem for the night”

“I have a home, thank you very much! I could go to it”

“But you left your car at the club, and you live across the city. You’re safe here, even if you are afraid of my brother now.”

Afraid. Afraid. Your opinion of him had gone from disgust to fear. He presses his ear now to the door and can only hear one set of retreating footsteps. Someone is leaving, and if hes right, its Klaus. 

Then he hears,

“FUCK,” a frustrated half-groan, half-scream. He has to admit to himself, even hearing how unhappy you seemed, he missed hearing your voice. He missed you. And you were outside his door right now in the middle of the night. Fuck it, he thought, I’m not missing my chance. 

When Diego opens the door, he sees you sitting on the ground, tight jean clad legs spread and chunky high heeled boot toes pointed outwards. He always loved those shoes on you. When his eyes meet your face, there’s an indignant pout on your lips, but your eyes are apologetic. 

“How much of that did you hear?”

“Enough. C’mon, I’m not leaving you in the hallway.” He opens the door a little wider, enough that he could usher you in, but you don't budge.

“Y’know, i’m not even drunk it's just my-”

“-your rule, yeah, I remember,” You had this rule that no matter what, you wouldn't get behind the wheel if you'd had more than one beer or even one drink stronger than a beer. Always best to err on the side of caution, you’d said. Better to not get pulled over at the very least or kill anyone else at the very worst, and you could handle being inconvenienced if it meant safety. But the fact of the matter is that it's the dead of winter and you live across town. You actually live in pretty close proximity to his new gym. 

“Come in, you can take my bed, I’ll sleep on the couch in Al’s office. It’s two am and you are not walking home looking like that. I’ll stay away from you,” He's trying his best to sound comforting and respectful, but it hurts. It hurts to be inviting you in and knowing you want nothing to do with him. 

“You don't have to-” you pause, as if trying to find the right words, “I’m not gonna put you out like that”

Diego nods, and turns back inside the boiler room, holding the door open, and you catch it, following him. It's just like old times, except it isn't. 

“Here, I've got a shirt and some pants you can sleep in,” Diego’s rifling through his drawers as he talks, worried he’ll look at you too long and seem as desperate as he is. He manages to throw a clean tee and a pair of jogger sweatpants on the bed, two of the only clean items he has currently because tomorrow is laundry day. Diego turns completely around to avoid looking at you while he can hear you changing, something he never would have done before, but there are boundaries now. He can imagine exactly what you look like right now, beautiful as ever and tired, changing into his clothes, just as it had happened dozens of times before. Only before he would have watched in awe and then grabbed you all to himself. 

“You can turn around now, nothing you haven't seen before,” your voice is soft, you don't sound annoyed anymore and he can’t help but feel a twinge of hope at that. 

When he turns around, he sees you've neglected the pants all together. Your bare legs end where the hem of his shirt meets the tops of your thighs and - why the fuck would you tell him to turn around with you dressed like this?

You gesture to his bed, and he sits on it, but you don't. You stay standing, looking more apprehensive and nervous by the second. 

“K-klaus said you're afraid of me now?” Stupid thing to say. Diego’s tired. His insecurities are showing. You're the last person he would want to be afraid of him.

Your face crumbles into something unreadable, but what he would guess is pity or guilt. Which are maybe worse than fear and disgust by his standards. He lets his head drop, suddenly finding his draped hands between his legs to be extremely interesting. 

You shift from one foot to another, unsure of how to answer, but then it comes to you. 

You place yourself in his line of vision, not allowing him to look away as you kneel down on your knees between his own. The sight alone is more than Diego can bear.

“No, no I'm not. I'm sorry you heard that and he said that. Look, I wanted to talk to you, not like this, not right now. I came by last week but you weren't here.” So it was you that had come around. Not his sisters like he had convinced himself. You wanted to talk to him. 

“I wanted to apologize. I-I shouldn't have left like that. I need to explain to you why I left.” He nods, and lets you continue. “I crossed a line. I was wrong. Our arrangement, I know it was like a no strings attached thing, but I started to have strings! I have so many strings. I broke our agreement, it wasn't casual for me. I broke your trust. I had to leave. I couldn't do that to you.”

Strings. You had strings, attached. To him of all people. You broke the rules. So did he. He searches your face, as if there's something to read on your features, and feels your hands slide into his own. 

“I-I-I’m sh-shitty at t-tying knots.” Diego what the fuck was that? He was more nervous than he thought. But you break into a watery grin, understanding the meaning in his words. You nod, and reply,

“I can teach you, if you've got strings to spare.” That was extremely sappy, and he loved it. He had so many strings to spare. He loved you. And he could show it now.

He tugs on your hands to pull them up to his shoulders, and you lean up into it, lips coming together as his hands wrap around your back to hold you tight. He easily lifts you up until he can gather you in his lap and keeps kissing you, over and over and over until you're dizzy. He holds you tightly, not unlike the last time you were in his bed, but this time his hands roam and grasp and touch, exploring you like it's the first time you're doing this. In a way, it is. It's the first time you're doing this so vulnerable and open with one another. You don't have to hide the smile that forms against his lips, you don't have to feel shame in the way that your lips chase after his own when he tries to pull away. You are taking from each other as much as you are giving, and for once you are giving everything.

His hands slide from your back, to the hem of his shirt, to your ass under the shirt. Diego is, at heart, an ass man you remember. He squeezes one cheek, then slaps it. Not hard, just enough to feel the slight jiggle at the contact. He chuckles against your mouth and then continues south, still kneading his hands into the flesh of your ass as his kisses meet the hem of his shirt at the other side, at your neck. You kiss his cheek, his nose, the scar that connects from behind his ear to his eye. Diego takes the time to lick the base of your neck, making you shudder and moan into it before he flips the both of you, surprising you when your back hits the blankets below. Looking up at him, his eyes are full of lust and admiration. 

“You look beautiful in my shirt, baby,” he whispers.

“And you are wearing entirely too much, dear” you reply.

He groans, and it turns into a chuckle as he whips his shirt off his torso, revealing his broad, scarred chest to you, which your hands immediately reach for to pull him back down onto you. He makes no move to remove the shirt covering you, but you think this might be doing something for him. Instead, his hands roam under the shirt again, and tease at the hem of your underwear. They aren't a particularly sexy pair, because the last thing you expected to happen tonight is this. It doesn't matter to Diego, who just pulls them down as far as his arm can reach, letting you kick them the rest of the way off as he fumbles with pulling his sweatpants down. There isn't the usual teasing game tonight, no. You'd spent too much time apart, you are full to the brim with love that even a little teasing would have the two of you spilling and in pain. This is fuck-or-die with no real consequences but your own impatience and need for each other. 

Diego wastes no time gently spreading your legs with a smooth slowness you didn't know he possessed before easing inside of you. You gasp, close your eyes, and breathe, taking a moment to remember this. This is what it felt like to make love. Another first for both of you. His pace, when he finally begins moving, is slow and steady, he's in no rush now that he has you. He’s quieter than usual, opting to just kiss you until he's sure you can read his mind and just understand what he's thinking. You rock peacefully, like a boat on the ocean, cresting waves within you mounting, exhaling with low moans he's never heard from you before. You never thought slow and careful would bring you to climax, but here you are feeling it steadily build and build. Waves now beginning to crash instead of ebb and flow, Diego’s only warning being your moans beginning to rise an octave. The release hits you in an all encompassing mighty tidal wave, leaving you shaking in his arms, holding onto him tightly like a lighthouse to the shore. This was not a white hot explosion, this was the tides coming home. As you subside, you almost feel ashamed at how quickly you came for him, but Diego is close behind you, your body pulling him to shore after you. He comes with a tight, close-lipped hum of a moan pressed against the side of your neck, and stills above you. His body cages yours to the bed, a willing prisoner of whatever Diego Hargreeves had in store for you. Whatever happened next for him, you were along for the voyage.

[undignifiend]

Been thinking about my oc Warden again. Might play with his design a little more, too, we’ll see. In the meantime, here’s some notes on him:

Warning for vague naughtiness and safe vore mentions below the cut. ;)

+++++

+Excuse me, officer, that’s my Emotional Support Creeper

+The chillest, chonkiest, and most well-adjusted of all my Trollhunters ocs by a long shot.

+For those new to him, he’s a changeling who runs a lucrative side-business where he uses his big troll form as a “one-of-a-kind lifelike animatronic run by cutting-edge AI tech” for “simulated” experiences with human clients. Proceeds go to the Janus Order, but he keeps a cut to keep his cover smooth and occasionally indulge in luxuries. He meets all kinds of people, and enjoys interacting with them in contexts where they aren’t frightened (or truly frightened). Gives amazing aftercare and massages (whether anything spicy happened or not, if that’s what a client wants. It’s not all spicy, but he does enjoy indulging such whims, within his own limits).

+He’s got strict rules to keep people safe in these instances (repeat customers mean more money and connections). He can get rough if they want, but he has his own limits as to how rough he’ll go. Will pin people (not enough to crush them) and make them recite The Rules (discussed later) if they try to ignore them because “he’s a machine, he’s not real”. That’s his first warning. Any subsequent violations terminate the session. No refunds.

+Disaster Bi/Pan. Very romantic and enjoys making clients (and partners outside work) feel thoroughly cared for. Doesn’t get attached as easily as he seems to, but when he falls, he falls hard.

+Has a weakness for stories about superheroes with secret identities. Will occasionally do vigilante work, and covers his tracks carefully.

+Diligent about his hygiene. On one hand, he sees it as respectful to his Familiar to keep his human form clean and good looking. (Though this sometimes looks like vanity to those who don’t know any better. He really is quite vain about his troll form, though.) And on the other, humans tend to be far pickier (even if less sensitive) than trolls about smell, and his side-business model relies on reassuring them that they’re in a safe, clean, relaxing environment.

+In his human form, he plays one of the bartenders and bouncers for a hotel near the wilderness that is classier and more successful than anyone paying attention to it would suspect, given its somewhat remote location. It sees just enough traffic (including private events and conventions) to maybe justify it, and he contributes some of his earnings to helping the place thrive. It’s his cover, where his clients meet him face-to-(human)-face, so he’s invested in keeping it respectable, which also helps encourage clients to come back for more. He also drives his clients to the even more remote caves (warded by enchantments that disguise signals to give false reports of where they actually are to any tracking devices or scrying attempts) where the scenarios take place, and drives them back to the hotel afterward. Before a session, his human form takes the client(s) to the room where the session will occur, and he “leaves to monitor the AI” through an off-limits passage that loops through a fake “control room” to another, bigger passage for his troll form to enter from.

+The humans working at the hotel have an understanding with him, though they don’t know what he is. He occasionally departs to see to this “side business”, and so long as nobody questions or talks about it, or puts a tracker on his car, or any shenanigans like that, he contributes a cut of his pay to the hotel. It also helps that he’s a dependable and amiable co-worker, and no one around him has suspiciously vanished yet.

+Still, some employees feel like it’s a deal with a devil. He’s been there long enough that it’s starting to become apparent that he either uses a damn good moisturizer, or he doesn’t age. That, and he’s preternaturally strong and fast. On the rare occasions that fights break out, he ends them quickly, and his injuries recover fast despite his avoidance of hospitals. He’s getting to the point where he’s going to have to start fresh elsewhere soon.

+More relaxed in his troll form, but for different reasons than Dezoka. He sees his human form as borrowing his familiar’s image, prefers to treat it with dignity, and doesn’t take disrespect to it lightly.

+Before his current business model, he used to rob banks as an outlaw. Proceeds also went to the Janus Order to help fund their operations.

+Primarily relies on his size, strength, and situational awareness in (and before) combat. He’s not an especially skilled fighter compared to Dezoka, Ulvek, or Zahnn, (he’s a bit out of practice since his outlaw days, and it’s been a long, long time since he’s had to contend with the Darklands) but he’s resilient, observant, and hits hard.

+Loves to eat people (in all the fun ways). His stomach can double as a portable high-security safe holding cell. Not a big fan of keeping prisoners that way. He’ll bitch and grumble, but he’ll still do it if he thinks he has to. Prefers willing participants. He’s kinda spoiled on them, and the idea of someone trusting him enough for it makes him really happy, and is his favorite indulgence.

+Where that particular bit of physiology is concerned, I’ve been thinking of designing a group of trolls with this trait and figuring out how his particular safe vore shenanigans might work. Warden’s stomach lining is peppered with many thousands of specialized, regenerating cellular nodes that exchange O2 and CO2 gases from his own bloodstream for his “guest’s” benefit, so suffocation isn’t an issue for anyone inside so long as Warden can keep breathing. His stomach also contains a mild acid that won’t do much more than gently exfoliate and disinfect open wounds (it’s got a pH of about 4 or 5, which I think is typically alright for skin anyway). The acidity ramps up in cases where a high amount of necrotic tissue is detected, to digest it before it rots further, and to kill any infection that might in turn infect him. This can also damage any living tissue still attached to the dead stuff, which will hurt for anyone still alive (so it’s not a good treatment for seriously injured folks), but after the dead tissue is eaten away, the pH will return to a more neutral zone - but remain acidic enough to keep open wounds disinfected as a guest’s body recovers. His stomach can also mildly aid recovery through gentle contractions to massage a guest and improve circulation while they’re curled up in there. But he will use his hands a lot, too. He loves being full and holding people this way.

+‘The Rules’ (including safe words) are customizable and negotiated before a session is even paid for, both for clarity’s sake, and “for programming adjustments”. All involved decide what they want and what their boundaries are. A client can change their mind if they decide they don’t actually want to do something, but Warden will not agree to any last minute additions that involve a safety/trauma risk. For example, if a client decided that they want him to swallow them whole, they can change their mind mid-session if they’re too nervous to go through with it (and can change their mind back again if they decide that they actually feel ready). But if they ask him to do it during a session where that was not planned, he will decline. Reluctantly. Even if it's safe, he understands it can also be really terrifying for those who aren’t ready, and he prefers to err on the side of caution where that’s concerned. Fearplay is great, and he loves playing up the role of a wicked, cruel predator - but that's the sort of thing that has to be discussed first so the client knows they have the power to stop it if it gets too intense.

+How to convince him that you’re Evil Incarnate: He has a sweet tooth and a serious weakness for foodplay and stuffing. It’s the most effective way to tease the daylights out of him, so he always gets a bit nervous when this comes up in establishing a session’s Rules. Doesn’t fluster easily, but just thinking about this will do it. Especially loves it as a prelude to vore. Will also do this without vore, but it’s kind of a struggle to hide just how wildly hungry and desperate that leaves him. He’ll be a professional about it, and he won’t violate The Rules or try to pressure a client/partner no matter how desperate he gets. Stuffing himself silly doesn’t fix it, either, it just leaves him delirious and aching for live, warm squirming in his stomach. Belly rubs and mouthplay are the cruelest little cherries on top. If he thinks his client/partner knows what they’re doing to him, he’ll be ticked off, but also impressed and intimidated. Either way, he won’t be able to stop thinking about them and wanting to take them somewhere nice and hold their hand and move in together and sappy stuff like that. And eat them, of course. He’ll lose a lot of sleep over just how badly he wants to eat them.

[kyidyl]

Alcohol anon: My relationship with my parents is… complicated. I often don’t feel heard or seen. The alcohol thing is both “I want to share this awesome thing with you” and “I don’t think you really know what you like and I assume you’re making up finding the taste of alcohol awful”. I already told them point blank that I hate alcohol and don’t want it but it mostly fall in deaf ears.

So I let this knock around in the back of my head for awhile before answering. First, it sounds like you have a mostly ok relationship with them but, like with any parental relationship, there's things about it that really drive you crazy. And I'm guessing, from what you've said so far, that you're a fairly young adult. Early-mid 20s? That's a really difficult time for the parent/child relationship imo. It happened to me, and all of my siblings. You're a full on adult with your own preferences and habits, discovering new ones every day as you progress further into the adult world. Your parents have spent the last 18-odd years guiding and teaching you and it's really hard for them to shift gears, especially if they're the kind of people who have a difficult time with change or were particularly authoritarian. You're both trying to learn how to relate to each other as equals rather than a parent/child or teacher/student relationship. It's hard, man. You couldn't pay me enough to get me to repeat that part of my life. Being in your early 20s sucks.

I'm going to err on the side of caution and guess that you probably don't want to implode your relationship with your parents over this, you just want them to change their behavior, so what I'd suggest is to quietly enforce the boundary. Let me explain what I mean by this.

I was raised mormon, and when I left my parents' house I decided I no longer wanted to be mormon. Not only that, but I didn't want to talk about it. They didn't want to respect that boundary. They are super into being mormon and they wanted me to be into it, too, so they kept trying to "troubleshoot" why I left. Like "oh, it was just that particular church but you can't give up over that one thing". For my part, my reasons for leaving were MANY and I was never going to convince them that they were valid reasons, and they'd continue to try to talk to me about it. So I stopped answering. When they'd bring it up, I'd either stay silent or give them short, one-word answers. The reality was that I no longer wanted to be mormon and no amount of cajoling was going to change that, and I didn't have the spoons to have an argument or a discussion about it every time, so I simply stopped engaging. When they stopped being able to get their foot in the conversational door, they stopped trying. It's like when you invite someone out a million times and they never say yes so eventually you stop asking. The reality is that I wasn't going to go to church, and you're not going to drink, so you operate in that reality and assume they already know why you're not going to drink.

The reality is that you don't need their consent to not drink. They pour you a glass of wine? Ignore it. If they ask "aren't you going to drink this?" just say "nah" and leave it at that. They say they're going to a winery and they sound like they're hinting that they want you to come? Ignore the hint. "Have fun guys!" is an acceptable answer. They invite you? "No thanks, but you guys enjoy yourselves". They offer you a glass of wine? "No thank you" or pretend you didn't hear. They drop hints? Don't take the bait. They'll eventually stop asking, and you don't have to have the same fight over and over. Give them nothing to hook onto and draw you into another conversation about it or try to bug you until you cave. This is your reality. Live in it until they join you. And they will - but it will likely take time, which the drawback to this method. You've done all of the necessary things to get them to stop. They know you don't want them offering and they know why. The onus is on them now. Now you're under no obligation to explain yourself further or engage over it. The wine conversation is an annoying ex and you are ghosting them. And I hope I'm explaining this properly, bc I'm not sure that I am, but I can't really think of a better way to articulate it. It's kind of the equivalent of saying to someone "I'm going to the store. You can come if you want, but either way I'm going to the store".

[genesisrose74]

I just wanted to ask if there’s any characters on the Dream SMP that you’re uncomfortable with writing?

For example, I know that most people only write platonically for Techno, Tubbo & Tommy? Sometimes people don’t like to write for Niki?

I just don’t want to make you uncomfortable. :)

— 💫

Ahh hello! Great question btw :))

Despite the fact that all my writing regarding the mcyt squad is all in-game persona AUs, I think it’s still important to note when cc’s have expressed discomfort with stuff like it and in general to make sure I’m not disregarding what they’ve said.

Yes, Techno, Tommy and Tubbo would be very strictly platonic stuff because they’ve either stated a discomfort with other sorts of content or are, duh, minors. Also Philza would be the same as he’s stated a similar thing as Techno before and I don’t wanna cross any boundaries. Also, he’s married LMFAO - Momza is the best btw.

I think I’d also wanna keep it funny and stuff when I utilize Schlatt’s character in fics, because he’s indicated before that most stuff regarding him can make him uncomfortable. He even said in a video once that it was kinda odd hearing that people found him attractive in the first place, so idk I’d just wanna be careful. The Dream headcanon thing with him was mostly just my interpretation of how schlatt would try maintaining relations with others of power through charisma and it just...not working out for him lmfao. I’d just wanna err on the side of caution, so I’m not really sure if I’d take many direct requests for him.

For Eret and Niki, I’d also want to keep my works with them pretty platonic because I’m not exactly sure where they’re at regarding fics and all that jazz. I’ve seen mixed things and just wanna play it on the safe respectful side, yanno?

So yeah, that’s kinda my basic layout for the whole “who on the SMP would you take requests for?” thing. If anyone has questions regarding the characters I might not have mentioned in here or on my acct before, feel free to ask or chat with me about it in my messages! Thank you for asking about it, anon :D