#if it tastes gross i will NOT be able to handle it

[spaciebabie]

Its so strange watching you muse over how you'll act when drunk, thats such a "never drank before" thing to do 🤣 /lh

Just so you're aware, its a Thing where different alcohols can result in different types of drunk, you're not gonna feel the same from every drink. Like for example, whisky makes us crazy sleepy, its the chill drink, we're gonna end up dozing off on the couch after just one or two drinks, there is no energy or party from that shit. Wine (white) is our drink of choice and we're a mess on it, especially the strong stuff, we're a chatterbox and a weirdo on it and there's a brief window of time between the drink hitting us hard and the exhaustion hitting us hard where we dance a bunch and fall over a lot (the exhaustion isn't caused by the dancing, it'll happen either way and is completely inevitable). And vodka (our second choice in drinks, though still a definite favourite) makes us LOUD, we yell A LOT on that shit, whatever comes to mind, and we get pretty kooky on it, its the funnest drink for sure, if we're down to party (solo party with 30+ people in one body because we have no outside friends) vodka is the drink of choice for sure, the energy lasts the longest and the Vibes are great.

Similarly to this, different drinks get different hangovers. For us whisky has no hangover (mostly because we can't stay awake long enough to drink enough to cause a hangover), wine FUCKS us up and we feel pretty nauseous, and vodka makes us the endless void portal pit to another dimension where the residents demand food sacrifices and if the food stops coming they will start chopping heads, we eat EVERYTHING in our hangover munchie rampage, normally we cant eat unless we're craving the food but those munchies make us tear through everything in sight regardless of what it is, its an expensive disaster

Good luck finding out how you respond to various drinks, its gonna take a bit of experimentation and no it cant be done all in one night, that's a bad idea for sure

oh man! i did not know this. thank yall for the information :>

i definitely dont plan on going too hard on my first time dkjfdkfjdf im probably just gonna have a tasty wine and relax :]

[caparrucia]

Full offense and pun fully intended, but I genuinely think the very existence of "dead dove, do not eat" was a fucking canary in the mines, and no one really paid attention.

Because the tag itself was created as a response to a fandom-wide tendency to disregard warnings and assume tagging was exaggerated. And then the same fucking idiots reading those tags describing things they found upsetting or disturbing or just not to their taste would STILL click into the stories and give the writer's grief about it.

And as a response writers began using the tag to signal "no, really, I MEAN the tags!"

But like.

If you really think about it, that's a solution to a different problem. The solution to "I know you tagged your story appropriately but I chose to disregard the tags and warnings by reading it anyway, even though I knew it would upset me, so now I'm upset and making it your problem" is frankly a block, a ban and wide-spread blacklisting. But fandom as a whole is fucking awful at handling bad faith, insidious arguments that appeal to community inclusion and weaponize the fact most people participating in fandom want to share the space with others, as opposed to hurting people.

So instead of upfront ridiculing this kind of maladaptive attempt to foster one's own emotional self-regulation onto random strangers on the internet, fandom compromised and came up with a redundant tag in a good faith attempt to address an imaginary nuance.

There is no nuance to this.

A writer's job is to tag their work correctly. It's not to tag it exhaustively. It's not even to tag it extensively. A writer's sole obligation, as far as AO3 and arguably fandom spaces are concerned, is to make damn sure that the tags they put on their story actually match whatever is going on in that story.

That's it.

That's all.

"But what if I don't want to read X?" Well, you don't read fic that's tagged X.

"But what if I read something that wasn't tagged X?" Well, that's very unfortunate for you, but if it is genuinely that upsetting, you have a responsibility to yourself to only browse things explicitly tagged to not include X.

"But that's not a lot of fic!" Hi, you must be new here, yes, welcome to fandom. Most of our spaces are built explicitly as a reaction to There's Not Enough Of The Thing I Want, both in canon and fandom.

"But there are things on the internet that I don't like!" Yeah, and they are also out there, offline. And, here's the thing, things existing even though we personally dislike or even hate or even flat out find offensive/gross/immoral/unspeakable existing is the price we pay to secure our right to exist as individuals and creators, regardless of who finds US personally unpleasant, hateful or flat out offensive/gross/immoral/unspeakable.

"But what about [illegal thing]?!" So the thing itself is illegal, because the thing itself has been deemed harmful. But your goddamn cop-poisoned authoritarian little heart needs to learn that sometimes things are illegal that aren't harmful, and defaulting to "but illegal!" is a surefire way to end up on the wrong side of the fascism pop quiz. You're not a figure of authority and the more you demand to control and exercise authority by command, rather than leadership, the less impressive you seem. You know how you make actual, genuine change in a community? You center harm and argue in good faith to find accommodations and spread awareness of real, actual problems.

But let's play your game. Let's pretend we're all brainwashed cop-abiding little cogs that do not own a single working brain cell to exercise critical thinking with. 99% of the time, when you cry about any given thing "being illegal!!!" you're correct only so far as the THING itself being illegal. The act or object is illegal. Depiction of it is not. You know why, dipshit? Because if depiction of the thing were illegal, you wouldn't be able to talk about it. You wouldn't be able to educate about it. You wouldn't be able to reexamine and discuss and understand the thing, how and why and where it happens and how to prevent it. And yeah, depiction being legal opens the door for people to make depictions that are in bad taste or probably not appropriate. Sure. But that's the price we pay, creating tools to demystify some of the most horrific things in the world and support the people who've survived them. The net good of those tools existing outweighs the harm of people misusing them.

"You're defending the indefensible!" No, you're clumsily stumbling into a conversation that's been going on for centuries, with your elementary school understanding of morality and your bone-deep police state rot filtering your perception of reality, and insisting you figured it out and everyone else at the table is an idiot for not agreeing with you. Shut the fuck up, sit the fuck down and read a goddamn book.

[hencheri]

omg wait pervert stepbro hendery who gets tired of waiting and just takes what he wants..?? 👀

that's so gross. let's do it!!

18+. mdni.

warnings: stepcest, size kink.

.

stepbro!hendery who always looks at you like you're a piece of meat, something he wants to devour, corrupt and defile. when he sees the plush of your thighs or the roundness of your ass, he doesn't care about anything else other than what he wants to do to you.

your little attires, small shorts that cling to your ass cheeks and tiny tank tops that ride over your stomach, do nothing but spur his desire on, turning him crazy until he just can't handle it.

why should he only be able to look and not touch? not take what he wants? as his little sister, you're his more than you'll ever be to anyone else.

his sweet little sister that would never do any wrong, just too kind for this world. too kind to him and to everyone.

his hands look immense on you, almost the size of your head, fingers sprawled out over your face, palm covering your mouth.

"you're gonna be quiet for me, hm, sweetheart?" he mutters, his head hovering over yours, his brownish bangs sticking to his forehead, hair wet from his previous shower.

his body wash has a strong scent and you can smell it, feel it enveloping you entirely. you won't lie that this specific smell had you up many times late at night, getting off to it with hendery's t-shirt against you.

your big eyes stare back at him as you nod, and this simple gesture has him wanting more, cock jumping in his sweatpants.

he slowly removes his hand from your face, wishing you were totally alone in the house so you wouldn't have to suppress your little moans of pleasure.

he makes you turn around and lift your ass up in the air, gently pulling off your pretty sailor moon night shorts as well as your panties, leaving them at your mid-thighs. he audibly groans at the sight of your pussy, already dripping wet for him.

"what's gotten you all messy like that, huh?" he positions himself right behind you, big hands groping your cheeks and running his fingers through your dewy lips.

without warning, he buries his face in your cunt, tongue grossly dipping between your folds. it takes you by surprise, involuntarily pushing your hips back onto him.

"you, dery. you," you moan out, biting down on your lip right away, holding in yet another moan.

he toys with your clit, tasting your sweet essence on his tongue. he pulls away not long after, chin glistening in your juices. he can explore your little cunt later, he needs you around him right now.

finally pushing his cock inside of you is a relief. hendery sighs when he's in, throwing his head back. it's exactly how he imagined it all along, tight and warm, walls snuggling his girth like crazy.

"fuck, you feel so good," he says, voice raspy, "d'you like it, baby? d'you like the feeling of me inside your lil' pussy?"

you bob your head rapidly, eyes closed and mouth open as he immediately starts thrusting inside of you.

"yeah? i knew it," he snickers, as if your neediness wasn't the own reflection of his deep desires. hendery wants to stay quiet, he really does, but it's difficult. oh so difficult with your tight cunt around him and your plush ass in his hands.

there's no way he doesn't cum inside of you. it might have been the thing he fantasized the most about — filling you up with his cum, having your little pussy so full that it spills out. he doesn't care about anything else, honestly.

and he does, multiple times. he has you clenching so hard around him until you cum, his palm covering your mouth to muffle your pathetic whines.

you best believe that this isn't the last time he sneaks into your room.

[quin-ns]

Can you maybe write something with swiftie!reader?

I thought this sounded so cute and since I saw a couple tiktok edits of JJ to this song, it’s the one I ended up referencing 🥰

Style (JJ Maybank x Reader)

John B realized his mistake the moment he handed you the aux cord, but it was too late. You plugged your phone in and pulled your go-to playlist up.

You were in the passenger seat so it had been something he’d done without thought, but as Taylor Swift’s voice came over the speakers, Kiara leaned between the seats.

“See, now why would you do that?” she questioned John B

“Hey! Her songs are really good,” you argued, looking back at Kiara.

“They are, but you play this one way too much.”

You rolled your eyes at Kie and opened your mouth to speak, but JJ crammed his way to the middle to be able to lean over your seat. The action made you smile, especially when he backed you up.

“Let her play what she wants,” JJ jumped in. “Besides, I like this one. “Style”, right?”

“10 points to JJ!” you cheered overdramatically, mostly just to watch Kie roll her eyes.

You noticed the sly grin appear on JJ’s face right before he asked, “Do I get a prize?”

That look he got when he was only focused on you crossed his face. You loved it.

You grabbed his chin lightly in one hand and pulled him in close enough for you to be able to press a kiss to his lips.

“You guys are gross,” Kie grumbled, moving to sit back in her spot.

“Please don’t make out in front of us,” Pope requested a little uncomfortably, finally making himself known.

“Jeez, Pope,” JJ drawled when the two of you parted. “It was just a kiss, not making out. When we do make out, you’ll know.”

Pope cringed at the implication while you jokingly swatted at your boyfriend.

While you had control of the music, you only played Taylor Swift. You let a variety play out, but went back to “Style” more than once.

At one point when you played it a second time, even though he was sitting behind you, you realized JJ was humming the tune and occasionally muttered out some of the lyrics to himself.

It brought you joy, and that was partially why you ended up playing it yet another time. You knew all the complaints were non-serious, so you didn’t see a problem. Besides, you put up with their music tastes all the time, they could handle it.

Later, when it was just the two of you lounging out in the hammock while the others resided inside the Chateau, JJ brought it up.

He was laying on his back with his arm wrapped around you. You laid mostly on your side next to him, your head on his shoulder.

“Why do you like that song so much?” he wondered, probably realizing he hadn’t asked before.

You knew exactly which one he was talking about. You tilted your head up and found him looking down at you. You smiled to yourself, knowing exactly why.

“Parts of it make me think of you,” you admitted. JJ didn’t say anything, waiting for you to explain. ““James Dean daydream”?” you recited, gauging his reaction. ““Long hair slicked back, white T-shirt”?”

As your luck would have it, to further prove your point, JJ was wearing his favorite white T-shirt. You pinched the fabric between your fingers and that caused him to look down at himself.

JJ’s brows pinched together. “My hair’s not that long.”

You chuckled at how he analyzed the lyrics.

“Long enough,” you replied lightly, shrugging your shoulders in spite of the angle. “And it’s not the whole song, because our relationship isn’t in danger like that—it’s not, right?”

You weren’t asking him genuinely, you had a joking tone that he could easily identify.

“Absolutely not,” JJ still answered with certainty. “You and I are perfect.”

“I second that,” you agreed, snuggling a little closer to him. “But anyway, a few weeks ago I heard it after we hung out and that part…” you trailed off, watching him watch you.

You loved the interest JJ showed as you spoke, even over something as small as a song. It made you feel more listened to and cared about than you ever had before.

“I don’t know, it just made me think of you,” you concluded, not having a more complicated reason like he was expecting.

“It is a pretty good song, and if that means I’m on your mind, then I approve,” JJ beamed.

JJ cupped your face in his hand and leaned down to press his lips to yours. You grinned against his lips before letting your eyes slide shut and kissing him back.

JJ rolled you beneath him, his lips moving against yours with dominance.

You had an afterthought about before in the van when Pope accused the two of you of making out. You hadn’t been before, but you were now. You really hoped this one wouldn’t be interrupted.

The next time you all were in the van, JJ rode passenger since you all took turns for the most part. When John B handed him the aux cord, a smile broke out across your face the same time Kiara rolled her eyes dramatically and Pope sighed when his chosen song came on.

“Seriously, dude? You too?” John B asked, more amused at his friend playing Taylor Swift than annoyed.

When “Style” got to the chorus, JJ looked over the seat. He gave you a smile in return before sitting back down properly.

“What?” he questioned with a shrug, facing John B. “I like this one.”

[madpunks]

neurodivergent people with fast/restaurant food safe foods constantly get hit with the "we'll just learn to make it at home and it'll be just as good!" while the neurotypicals fail to realize that the consistency in flavor, texture, and temperature is vital and why these foods are our safe foods. they are produced to taste, smell, feel and look the exact same way every single time they're prepared.

this regularity and consistency is what makes the food safe to the neurodivergent person- worrying about "saving money" to make it at home is missing the point- the money isn't the issue here, the food being the exact same as how that person needs it to be prepared is what's vital. it stands between that person being able to eat or not that day.

even generic brand snacks vs. branded snacks in the grocery store can be a total deal breaker. walmart's version of crunchy cheetos are absymal, they don't even come CLOSE to the same texture. i love cheetos but those were so gross i couldn't handle them. they are not the same- to a neurotypical who is not bothered by slight changes and texture, they would likely be near identical, but to an autistic person who is very particular about taste and texture against my will, they were different enough to make me feel like crying because there was disgusting salty sandpaper in my mouth.

if you know a neurodivergent person who eats fast/restaurant food regularly because it's consistent and safe for them to eat, please don't harass them to cook the same foods at home to save money. they need to eat. please stop worrying more about money than people's health and safety. this literally comes between neurodivergent people and our ability to eat. we deserve to eat, we don't deserve to be lectured about "saving money". everyone needs to eat. fuck money.

[enby-jellyfish]

Caribbean Night

Captain Hector Barbossa X GN!Reader (POC friendly)

Pronouns: You/your

Summary: As dark thoughts about your cursed existence threaten to consume you, you find comfort in your captain.

Warnings: Depressive thoughts, canon typical body horror

Word Count: 1338

A/N: THIS GROSS OLD MAN IS MY ACTUAL WIFE!?!?!??!

It is a cold night on the Caribbean sea, or so you assume, it is not like you are capable of feeling it.

The crew is celebrating below deck, we found three pieces of the cursed of Aztec gold today. Three pieces closer to being human again. Only one of the eight hundred eighty two left, we are getting so close.

Despite this victory you cannot find it in yourself to celebrate. You climb up on deck and wander over to the Pearl's railing.

As you trace the grooves in the black wooden planks with the tips of your fingers you listen to the faint sounds of the crew celebrating, the waves of the sea gently beating against the hull, and the rigging knocking against the masts.

It is peaceful. And yet you feel anything but.

Before your depressing chain of thought can begin to spiral you feel a sudden, familiar weight on your shoulder.

"Heya, Jack." You scratch the capuchin’s head and he makes a small noise of content, closing his eyes for a moment before jumping down from your shoulder onto the railing next to your hand. You notice something shiny in his hands.

"Whatcha got there?" You questioned the monkey, already knowing the answer. He proudly holds up the golden coin to show you and confirms your suspicions.

You manage to fish a few non-cursed coins out of your pocket and hold them up to him. "Care to trade?"

Jack looks between you, the coins, and the golden piece for a second, torn between the options. You hold out your hand closer to him, shaking the coins, causing them to make a clinking sound.

"C'mon, when have you ever refused new shiny trinkets?" As if he could understand you he snatched up the coins and dropped the golden piece into your expecting hand and ran off, presumably to his owner.

You look at the coin in your hand, tracing the intricate markings with your thumb. The heavy gold pressing down into your palm, it is heavier than other gold coins you’ve handled, though you suppose that is because of the curse. You can’t tell whether the coin is warm or cold.

You let out a deep sigh. Your soul is full of longing for a state of being you haven’t experienced in too many years. You ache to taste again, to feel again, to be alive again.

The sound of heavy boots approaching catches interrupts your thoughts full of grief over your past life. You don’t need to look up to know who those boots belong to.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?”

Turning around you face your captain, Jack is perched on his shoulder.

“If only it wasn’t. Would have saved us a whole lot of trouble…” You sigh out, handing him the coin and turning back to the railing, looking out over the dark sea, moon hidden behind the clouds.

Barbossa hands the coin to Jack an tells him to put it with the others. You hear the pitter patter of the monkey’s little feet on the deck as you feel your captain lean on the railing next to you.

“Why aren’t you celebratin' with the rest of the crew?” He questions, you can feel his eyes on you.

You start tracing the wood again. “Didn’t feel like celebrating.”

“Aye, I suppose I can understand that.” You hear a pain in his voice, a pain you share.

“I miss feeling the rain.” You lament. It has been so long.

“I miss feeling the sun.” He speaks, gaze upon the horizon. You look at him, the light of the lit lanterns framing his sorrowful face. You can see every detail of his face so clearly.

You catch yourself staring before he can and turn your gaze back to the sea. If you weren’t undead you would be able to feel warmth spreading over your cheeks by now.

“Do you believe we can actually do it, break the curse? I mean, we’ve lost the kid before.” The question falls from your lips before you could take the time to think the repercussions of such a question aimed at your captain through.

Luckily he doesn’t take it in a bad way and decides to tease you instead. “Not losing faith in me are ye?” You laugh at that, suddenly feeling more at ease.

“Please, I have been with you since the Cobra. I helped pull you from the wreck if you care to recall.”

Now he’s laughing as well, a barking sound you haven’t heard in ages. Both of you shift to face each other.

“Aye, ye have been loyal since the very beginning, that be true.” He closes moves closer to you as he speaks, shoulders bumping into one another. It feels good. Comforting.

“How could I not? You accepted me into your crew when no one else would. You took care of me, and still do. I thank you for that.” You speak softly and earnestly, causing the mood to switch to something more vulnerable. You have been wanting to get that off your chest for so long now.

He smiles softly at you. Well, as softly as an aged sea-hardened pirate like himself can manage. “It has been a genuine pleasure to have ye aboard.” He nods his head in a mock-bow.

You smile at that, staring into those piercing blue eyes of his, finding him to be staring back into yours.

You lose yourself for a moment. Your mind coming up with a whirlwind of what ifs about possible scenarios with him. In these fantasies you would be happy, alive, with him.

Your wishful thoughts were interrupted by the moon appearing from behind the clouds it was previously hidden. You watched as the moonlight revealed your true selves, flesh melting away to reveal the cursed undead skeleton appearance underneath.

You bring your hand up to inspect it. Even after so many years it was still a shock to see the withered bones.

“C’mon.” Barbossa takes your skeleton hand into his own and gently leads you toward his cabin.

Once inside, hidden from the moonlight, you don’t look dead anymore.

Barbossa sits you on a chair near his desk, still holding your hand, running his calloused fingers across the back of your hand in a soothing motion.

You close your eyes for a second, letting out a deep sigh while hiding your face in your free hand. You would be crying if you could.

Barbossa’s free hand reaches towards your chin and gently tilts your head to face him. “Now, none of that. No point in mopin’ around. We will get our lives back, I promise ye that.” He mumbles, your faces are but a few inches away.

“Swear to me.” The sentence came as a mere whisper.

He kneels down to your level, his lips almost touching yours as he whispers your name. “I swear to ye, upon the very stars guiding our way, under the watchful eye of any deity willing to bear witness.” The hand holding your chin drifts towards the point where your jaw meets your neck.

“Captain, I-”

“Hector.”

“Hector, I-”

Your eyes flit down towards his lips. They are chapped, but then again, yours are probably as well.

A pause. Then your lips finally meet.

You don’t feel the familiar warmth or contentment you have come to associate with kissing over the years, and yet it is the best kiss you believe you’ve ever had.

Hector parts from you for a moment, forehead resting against yours, eyes closed. “We will find Bootstrap’s little whelp, and the cursed final piece he sent away.” He presses his lips to yours again in a sweet peck. “If I have to sail to the very ends of the world to find them.”

His lips are on yours again before you can find the words to reply. The slightest flicker of comfort blooms inside of you.

You may be cursed, but right here, right now your existence doesn’t seem so hopeless as it did before.

Masterlist

Thank you for reading <3

[flock-talk]

Always call your vet and ask if meds can be mixed with food first as not all medications can be, but, most common antibiotics and simple meds you’ll encounter can!

Also ask if the meds can be mixed with specific temperatures, often times a bird may not be willing to take a cold fluid from a syringe but will be excited to take some warm mush as it simulates being fed by a parent or mate. Again this is something that won’t work for all medications but it doesn’t hurt to ask.

Some mixing ideas could be:

Non-sugar fruit juices

Baby food

Hand rearing formula

Soaked pellets

Smooshed fruits

Cooked sweet potato

Thinned nut butters

If your bird has never taken food from a syringe before I would ensure to practice having them take just the plain food first so their first experience is tasty! This will also help set them up for the expectation of eating what comes out of the syringe. The first time you try they may get thrown off by something being injected in to their mouths and instinctually shake it out before they realize it’s food. Once they get the hang of eating from the syringe then I would go in with the medication mix and follow up with one more syringe of plain food to wash it all down, end on a very tasty note, and keep them excited for the next dose.

When injecting be sure to go slow, if you fill the beak too much they may shake out the excess and lose some of their dose! Small quantities that fill about 1/3 of the lower beak at a time is plenty. If you have a large med dose this may mean a few repetitions of food syringes between half doses so they’re able to handle the gross taste. I did mine without enough food today so Newt shook after swallowing to express how bad it tasted, next time I will add more food to it to further hide the medication flavour.

[neurodivergent-loverboy]

It seems like this needs to be said, so I'm going to say it:

Having an eating disorder is not a moral failing. Nope, not even if it includes an aversion to eating foods from unfamiliar cuisines. Sensory differences and anxiety about trying new things are morally neutral traits, and they are certainly not indicative of bigotry.

This does not mean that people with ARFID (or people who avoid certain foods for any other reason) are incapable of expressing their aversion in harmful ways. Take a look at these hypothetical statements:

"Guacamole is disgusting. I don't understand how people can eat that stuff without gagging!"

"I would never eat curry, it looks like vomit."

"People who actually like sushi must have something wrong with their taste buds."

"I don't like 'ethnic' food, it's all gross."

These statements are judgemental generalizations about foods from non-white cultures. They are disrespectful, close-minded, othering statements. Speaking like this about any cuisine, especially those that have been historically vilified by groups in power, is unacceptable. That is true regardless of a person's mental health or disability status.

Now take a look at these statements, and note the difference in tone:

"I can't eat seafood. It triggers my gag reflex."

"I wouldn't be able to eat that. I'm really sensitive to texture when it comes to food, especially greasy or mushy textures."

"A lot of the flavors used in Thai cooking are overwhelming for me, and I can't handle anything spicy."

"I mostly eat food that I already know I like, because that's what's comfortable for me."

These statements, like the previous ones, are expressing an aversion to certain foods. But unlike the previous statements, these ones center the personal limits of the speaker rather than placing judgement on the food they're talking about or the people who eat that food.

There is no good reason to conflate these mindsets. Shaming people with ARFID simply for having ARFID is not effective antiracist action - it's lateral aggression. Call out bigotry when you see it, criticize harmful and disrespectful rhetoric, and hold neurodivergent people to the same standards of equitable behavior as your neurotypical peers. All of that is possible to do without implying that a disabling mental health condition is really just a moral failing.

[eternitariant]

Lesson Three: Responses to Fear

cw: implied violence & small mentions of blood~

You could hear some kind of altercation happening downstairs but no matter how hard you threw your body into your closet doors, they weren't gonna budge. There was nothing left for you to do but wait for Patrick to come back upstairs.

There was a loud crash and shattering noise like glass had broken and then hysterical laughter-

Patrick's. You'd know that sound anywhere.

His boots thudded back up the stairs and you were finally let out of the closet but you grimaced when you saw him,

"W-what happened?" you asked, reaching your hand out to cup his cheek as your thumb swiped the blood from under his bleeding nose, "you got hurt." you grumbled, scowling harshly at the mess on his face,

"Don't worry about it sweets, i took care of it." he cooed, stroking your hair before your fist landed against his chest and jolted him back,

"you locked me in the closet you fuck!"

"weren't you just upset that i'm hurt, why the hell are you hitting me?" he chuckled, closing the gap between you again,

"no one gets to hurt you but me, got it jackass?"

"got it." he saluted you,

"good." you peeped before staring at the floor sheepishly, he squeezed your forearms to bring your attention back to him and as you looked back up, you seemed kinda sad,

"what? what is it?" he asked softly, eyes raking over your features in a feeble attempt to read you,

"i just- just feel weird." you brushed,

"weird like sick?"

"no Trick, just weird." you shook your head, trying to make some sense of it yourself as you pushed past him and sat on your bed. He lingered by your closet for a few seconds, furiously studying your body language but he couldn't figure it out. He strode over and crouched in front of you,

"i don't know if you've noticed Y/N but weird is kinda my whole deal... lay it on me." he encouraged,

"you locked me in the closet-"

"to keep you safe." he interjected but you became visibly frustrated and raised your voice,

"you locked me in a closet and you just charged down there! you didn't have any idea who or what the fuck it was and, and... and i-" you cut yourself off before your breath stuttered too much,

"you..." he dragged the word out, "got scared, didn't you?" a lingering glint of hope in his eyes,

"no." you snapped, glaring at him.

"no, i don't get scared Patrick."

"I know that." he covered, "but then what was it?" he leaned forward, linking his forefinger around yours,

"weird." you shrugged, "that's all." your voice shrunk to a bare whisper,

"okay weirdo. keep all your weird. i gotta board up your window, don't need anymore freaks in this house."

that same look was stretched across your face, like if you lost sight of him, you'd disintegrate. Patrick's brows twitched together and his chest hurt,

"come with me."

that's all you wanted. to not be alone. to not be away from him.

the truth you'd yet to process was that you were terrified. when you couldn't get out of the closet and he was downstairs, you were so scared that he wouldn't come back up.

Initially, he was a nuisance to you... you were annoyed by him always being around but when you started to toy with him and play along, it became a lot of fun. you started to like it and then you started to like him. you'd never been scared before today & it made you feel gross. for now, you just wanted to be able to see him. to know that he was still there. he'd weaselled his way into every inch of your existence and whatever happened downstairs made you realise that's exactly how you liked it.

You let him lead you downstairs and you saw the carnage left behind,

"Trick, what happened?"

"Some guy your mom had over a while back came here looking for money. I handled it."

You stopped behind him on the stairs and he turned around,

"you're killing me sweets, what is i-"

you cut him off by kissing him, not minding the lingering taste of blood on his lips.

[bubblegum-glitch]

The Catalyst: Life working in retail and the moment I finally said "fuck it, I'm doing porn."

I've been working in Customer Service off and on since early 2005, only ever being unemployed for short periods of time between job searches. I've worked in various retail establishments, with shipping companies, call centres, door-to-door sales, and even in kitchens & cafes. The only industry I have ever refused to work in has been fast food, and I'm sure those of you who have worked a drive through or two in your lives can understand my reasoning. I began in my first year of high school working at a Dollar Store that was next to an extremely seedy strip club (it eventually burned down and it was discovered that the owner had done it to try and cash in on the insurance). From customers verbally and physically abusing me, to an elderly man jerking his cock in front of me, my first romp in retail was merely a taste of what was to come for the next 20 years.

Some jobs were certainly better than others. I worked at a bookstore and a Halloween shop, both of which would have been fine if not for the politics of the company bleeding into the staff and making us all miserable. Bad management teams, abusive coworkers, bullying and drama akin to that which we experience in High School - it becomes exhausting after awhile. For minimum wage, which doesn't even come close to a living wage, it's just not worth the headaches. I rarely lasted longer than two years with any of my employers. When you're handed a penny raise after working your ass off for an entire year you tend to lose faith in the company that you've been breaking your back (and sanity) for. I promise, there was no lack of trying on my part to escape the clutches of the customer service industry. I have my BA in English, I have a certificate in photography, and I have some training in IT Web design (which proved to be far too much for my little brain to handle) and Audio Engineering. Unfortunately the job market for all of these industries in my part of the world is pretty much non existent. I'm pretty sure a BA in English is worth less than toilet paper even after the great pandemic shortage of 2020. Unfortunately, to make money in this world you gotta do what you gotta do. So to pay off my crippling debt and be able to afford an occasional package of ramen noodles so I don't starve to death, I have to continue working these soul crushing, mindless jobs.

It was in 2016 when I started working in donation rooms at thrift stores and, I will be completely honest with you - I fucking love it. Granted, it has it's downsides. I've sorted through more than a couple bags with mould, human feces, needles, and used sex toys, but the satisfaction of the treasure hunt it's absolutely worth the nasty shit that you sometimes encounter. But once again, the politics of the industry got in the way of finding my work enjoyable and rewarding. Nasty upper management was the downfall of all three thrift locations I've worked at. The first store the CEO shut us down without warning (I also later learned he was a sexual predator and was being sued by some of his employees for harassment, so that was gross). The second location had a violent customer base (we were robbed repeatedly), a bully assistant manager who would scream in your face when HE made a mistake, and a regional manager who loved to throw her staff under the bus.

So that leads us to my third romp in thrift, my absolute favourite job I've ever had, and the devastation brought upon me when everything came crumbling down.

My husband and I came into a little bit of money in 2021 and I decided to take a break from the world of customer service bullshit and return to school (This was my IT and Audio Engineering training). That summer I got a student job at a thrift store where 100% of the proceeds go into helping rescue animals. It was entirely volunteer based other than the management team and the summer students (who were there on a government grant). I had such an enjoyable experience working there as the volunteer coordinator than I returned the following summer, and they were so impressed with me they ended up hiring me on permanently part time to help with their rapidly growing business. At this point, due to some mental health struggles, I am not currently able to work full time hours, and they were more than happy to work around my disability...

Until the new regional manager was hired.

The store closed for renovations and I was brought in to help rebuild and re-brand the store.

Sure. No problem. It's more hours than I'm available for, but I don't mind just for a couple of weeks. It's also more physical work than my body is really equipped for but, just this once, I'll suffer through with a smile on my face.

Then I'm handed a key and I'm told "You're a staff supervisor now". Oh... okay? No one talked to me or asked me if I wanted the promotion, it's more hours than I can handle, and I don't really want the responsibilities that come with a supervisor position because of my disability, but since my old position has been dissolved I guess I'll have to suck it up. At least it comes with a raise, right?

Nope. Still minimum wage. Which is currently sitting about $15 under a livable wage. Also, we won't be training you and just expect you to know how to do the assistant manager's job.

Okay... Gotta do what you gotta do I guess.

You also have to work more shifts than you're available for.

Oh... yeah, okay. That could start to prove difficult as I'm dealing with a depressive episode right now but... sure?

Then suddenly I'm responsible for everything that goes wrong. A volunteer makes a mistake? Blame Billie - even on days she isn't working. The cash or pricing machines break? Billie. Shoes, purses, dresses, and coats priced to low? Blame Billie and make sure she's the only person who prices these things from now on. Need 30 things done at once right this second, tell Billie and don't let her delegate the tasks to anyone else. If she does, yell at her! Have Billie open and close the store for the next two weekends, but don't train her how to do it and expect her not to make any mistakes. Customer has an issue? That's right, it's also somehow Billie's fault! Even when she's at home sleeping!

Blame, blame, blame, blame, blame, blame, blame.

Yeah. This was the breaking point for me.

In July of 2023 I had started up an OnlyFans account to bring in a couple extra dollars. I'll discuss why this was a challenging decision for me in a future post, but originally I was just planning to post some tasteful nudes to earn myself a little spending money. By May of 2024, as all this bullshit had begun happening at work, that mindset had officially gone from a couple tasteful nudes to "Fuck it, I'm quitting retail and making porn." By August I had amassed enough of a following to put in my notice.

I am finished with retail as of October 15th, 2024 and turning to creating adult content full time.

Honestly, this is a terrifying leap of faith as I know content creation can be a fickle beast. Some months will be more lucrative than others, while an inability to keep people invested could have everything all come crashing down on top of me.

But I'm done with working for people who take advantage of me and pay me pennies. I know my value and I'm worth more than what I'm being given. I'm not a number who is easily replaceable, I am a strong capable woman who is in charge of her own destiny.

So fuck you workforce,

I quit!

Now. If you'll excuse me, I'm off to live life how it's meant to be lived,

Enjoyed!

[cinnamonest]

Ever since i saw your whiney darling stuff i fell in love! Please tell us more! Maybe like how some characters would react to a really mean bitchy darling who always fights them! Or a rlly whiney prissy girl, like one of those entitled brat darlings, maybe for kazuha or childe where she thinks their whole life style is too gross for her

Ohhhh noooo those two would be so awful, albeit for different reasons... also making note of a few others worth mentioning for this concept

Kazuha is a better fit initially, but becomes progressively more frightening, whereas Childe is just an absolute menace overall. Childe finds your brattiness cute, at least for a while. He goes out of his way to provoke you and mess with you, especially anything that gets squeals and panic out of you. For example, if you're grossed out by blood and keep complaining about his tendency to come home practically caked with it or freak out when he tries to touch you with it all over his hands, he makes sure to do so to a greater extent, just for you! He's basically just awful because he'll pick at the things you dislike and actively do anything he can to upset you because it's just so cute.

That being said, he himself is picky about your behaviors in the sense of timing. He wants you to be all pouty and upset, but only when he wants it. Like, he'll do something to mess with you and get your reaction one minute, but now he's done with that, moving on, and wants you to be all affectionate and... you're not. What do you mean, you're still upset about what he did 5 minutes ago? Now this is a problem, he's supposed to be able to just sort of shift your moods around like a light switch. He doesn't want you to be irked anymore, he wants you to be happy and nice now so why are you mad and not immediately conforming to what he wills you to feel like at any given second? Unbelievable.

Kazuha on the other hand... he manages very well, in terms of his own emotional regulation, and he's better at first than Childe because he's accommodating, tries his best to please you. He doesn't get outwardly angry or loud or volatile, no, he handles it the same way he does everything, with a soft smile on his face that's starting to seem a bit eerie the more you complain and the quieter and more twitchy he gets. He can actually take quite a bit of your abuse with a soft smile on his face, only trying to gently dissuade you. Hey, now, let's be reasonable..., or it's not so bad, see?, or don't worry, we can stop and rest soon, so on and so on... for a while. He has his limits.

Something you do eventually pushes him over the edge. His smile doesn't drop, but you'll just be whining and complaining and all of a sudden his hand is around your throat with a crushing, asphyxiating grip.

Hey... let's try to be more positive for a little bit, okay? Can you do that for me?

The intensity of your windpipe being crushed is so unmatched with his pleasant expression and soft tone that it leaves you reeling. But he's waiting on an answer, and you find yourself frantically nodding your head so he'll let go. Needless to say it keeps you quiet and well-behaved for a while. Until you inevitably act out again, leading him to another slow build-up of frustration until you get him to snap again, and next time might be a little more aggressive.

Also worth mentioning: there's another tier of being a bad fit, but in a different sort of way: Kaveh, Thoma, Chongyun and Bennett. All four poor things try so hard to bend to your every whim and are so desperate to make you happy that they'd wear themselves ragged trying to fix anything you whine about. Problem is that if that's just your nature, eventually it's going to reach a point where they get genuinely depressed and discouraged. At the very least, Thoma can probably accommodate your tastes a bit given that he's living on a very nice estate, and Chongyun can sometimes get a certain friend to donate some funds for him to use to make you happy, but the other two are screwed. Kaveh doesn't exactly have a lot of spending money, and even on the rare occasion Bennett finds a chest that has actual mora in it, something always goes wrong with trying to buy you something. So you'll just have to live with their frugal lifestyles... please, they'll get hurt if you're too mean about it, and can you really live with yourself knowing you've made them sad? Could you really look into those eyes and be mean?

Diluc is somewhere in the middle actually, but leaning more towards a good fit simply because he has the resources. He does have a disdain for snobbish behavior on your part, but to be honest, he quickly realizes that just giving you what you want is far easier than trying to reason with you, and he actually has the means to do so, so, he thus ends up admittedly often just giving in. Less whining that way, and frankly, whining irks him very quickly. Oh, and not to mention, he gives in easily because he still holds out hope that tending to and appeasing your pickiness will hopefully endear him to you, and he's desperate for anything that can accomplish that. One could argue this makes him both a good and bad fit for such an individual -- good in the sense that he can fulfill your desires, but bad because by doing so, he's just making your spoiled tendencies that much worse.

Xingqiu is primarily difficult because frankly, you having brat tendencies makes you two of a kind. As much as he tries to maintain his chivalrous humble aura, as always, that chivalry thing tends to suddenly dissipate when he starts not getting his way. And when that happens, you'll find he can be incredibly stubborn.  And when you're stubborn and picky and he's stubborn and picky you two are going to reach an impasse very quickly. Because he wants to do this, go here, eat this, get up and go to bed at this time and have you wear this and do this thing together, but what you want is totally different from everything he wants, and that's an issue. Obviously, logically the less important opinion (yours) should be the one that gets overridden, but you seem pretty reluctant to agree. Truly baffling.

He's pretty pushy about it, but with a smile and pleasant demeanor, trying to maintain the charismatic image of himself he likes to exude. After a while, though, you can whittle him down further and further to the point that he snaps and his spoiled rich child side comes out in full force, but only for a few seconds before he catches himself and corrects it. Only now, he's even more irritated at you for making him do that, treats it as if you actively committed some transgression against him.

And lastly, Albedo is also one that can't really be categorized as good or bad -- he's technically good at dealing with it, but in such a way that is very bad for your sake. He's definitely the most humiliating to deal with, and he nips the brat behavior in the bud very quickly. He doesn't get angry very easily, he stays calm and collected even if you throw tantrums and get furious. Eventually, after enough of him silently taking your complaining, he finally speaks.

Mm. Alright then.

You don't like the tone he uses, and it's ominous foreboding of what's to come.

Basically, he takes the route of malicious compliance. You complain about his presence, and you find yourself being dumped outside the front door in the freezing cold.

Well, you did say you didn't want to spend another second with me in the room, so I suppose you'll have to wait out here. Unless you'd like me to let you back in.

Complain about food? Alright, then you can just not eat. Complain about sleeping in the same bed? Have fun on the floor with no blankets, at least until you nicely ask to be allowed back in bed. Complain that he keeps staring at you when he's fucking you? You can be flipped onto your front side and get choked and railed from behind instead. Complain about the clothes he gives you? Okay, you can have none.

Basically he's a little bastard about it, but the most infuriating part is that it works, and very quickly too. You inevitably find yourself watching your tongue more often, and complaining less, and being more submissive. But if it gets to where you're a little bit too compliant, he might start going out of his way to do subtle little things to pull some more bratty outbursts out of you... after all, said outbursts are cute, so he doesn't want them to disappear completely, and your teary eyes and humiliation later on is even cuter.

[yuikomorii]

Heya! In which of the boys route do you think Yui was broken/hurt the most?

I always wanted to know which would be the worst scenario (route) for like.. an avarage girl irl . I know most girls would not survive there😅 but just wanted to know your opinion which of those 6 doors you would never open. Or 13 if we count all the characters.

// Since it's an otome game, it goes without saying that there will be a lot of plot armor and that the love interests can't really harm the heroine seriously throughout the route, regardless of what she does, because the plot would go nowhere like that. Most characters are jerks but not really that hard to handle, since they were known for scaring Yui rather than letting her get genuinely hurt. However there were certain Diaboys who were very scary, as it felt like they had no feelings of remorse or empathy.

Laito:

Can’t say that his HDB route is the worst thing Rejet has ever written (because it’s definitely not) but it baffled me how he was so okay with Yui breaking like that to the point where she lost all her will to live and only wanted to be set free from him. I mean, she literally tried to commit and he was just there not even intending to stop her bleeding veins despite being the one who cut them?? It’s true that in the Vampire Ending she doesn’t turn out that bad but after all, this is just because it’s fiction.

Kanato:

He was easier to understand than Laito because at least you were able to know that he had a soft spot for sweets and Teddy. Nevertheless, it was a bit too much how he kept stabbing Yui with the fork and a few chapters later, I’m pretty sure he stabbed Yui with a knife in more places as well. Still, it’s surprising how she turned out worse in his route, considering the fact that in the afterstory she kills innocent people—

Kou:

I love Kou but he was a literal demon in MB. I really hated how he made his fans bully Yui JUST FOR FUN. It wasn’t even any sort of punishment, he merely wanted to make her suffer. Another thing I couldn’t stand was how he kept putting Yui’s life in danger, only to make her prove her love. I understand wanting to test someone but it would have been way better if he actually saved Yui after seeing her do something dangerous. That way it would have proved that he cared for her yet he continued to watch her get hurt for him over and over again, without feeling any empathy. He was sorta redeemed at the end but yeah, most of his route was big yikes, especially since you wouldn’t have expected a cheerful and friendly idol like him to be such a wicked person.

Carla:

I like the Tsukinami family's desire to preserve their lineage but sorry, I must say that I find it repulsive that a 17-year-old would be forced to become pregnant out of the blue with strangers. I understand that Yui was partially to blame for Carla's anger and subsequent dungeon scene but that moment grossed me out sooo bad. She lost her will to live but Carla literally jumped on a depressed girl and was on the verge of rap€ing her, if his Endzeit didn’t kick in. He gets gradually better throughout his route but this scene left a sore taste in my mouth.

Kino:

Look, Kino is a great villain and a lot of fun, but his LE route was trash. Kino killed a child, mistreated Yui, abducted both Yui and Ayato, planned to sell Ayato to the church for execution, manipulated Yui and tortured Ayato. The pain he caused them both was immense and although I appreciated Yui calling him out, it's so sad that she was brainwashed. While it's true that Kino can be quite cute when he wants to, their romance was so rushed and forced because they didn't give us any reason why Yui would fall for him other than manipulation when Ayato, who was seen to care more about her than for himself, was right there. I wish they developed Kino’s feelings better, given that he straight up blackmailed Yui to become his, otherwise Ayato would had been killed, therefore Yui had no other choice but accept the situation. That’s why his CL route is way better.

I only mentioned 5 instead of 6 but that’s mostly because no other character came closer to them in terms of bad scenario. The rest of them felt decent in their routes for a game called Diabolik Lovers, lol.

[luna-andra]

The Shadows Return | Simon 'Ghost' Riley x OC | Retired AU | Is It Really You?*

Summary: A little 🍃 Andra stargazing with Ghost

Word Count: ~1.8k

If you're new to this story, you can read Chapter 1 here. Filler chapters are marked with an * sign.

Content: accidental high (hehe), fluff, wee little lore drop

Author's note: This one is a itty bitty filler chapter that the little writing goblin in my brain told me to create at like 2a 🥴 enjoy and stay tuned cuz next chapter is gonna be beefy!

ALSO I made a little playlist of the songs they were listening to if anyone cares 😂

https://youtube.com/playlist?list=PLsvQwF6FNtSzXEjTpFX6zxpH2nsdbuN0G&si=cfNPy4NgRSjRIx9T

“It’s in my glove box!” Johnny hollered from under the kitchen sink as Andra stomped through the living room.

“I heard you!” she yelled back, earning her some disgruntled Scottish noises. She was in a sour mood from Johnny helping himself to her last sparkling water. Usually, it wouldn’t be a big deal, she’s told the boys to take anything they want all the time, but she specifically told Johnny ‘not the Bubbly.’

He took the Bubbly.

Karma made its way back to him when he decided to tag along with Ghost to come help with her clogged sink. He was stuck with having to do the job considering Ghost’s wide shoulders kept him from being able to fit underneath the tight space. Drink the one thing off limits? Enjoy the clogged sink.

Receipts and an empty protein shaker fell out as soon as she opened the passenger door to his truck. “Pinche basura…” Andra picked up the shaker and chucked it back in and shoved the receipts in her pocket to toss when she went back inside. The glove box wasn’t any better, but she managed to find the adjustable wrench he needed.

A plastic bag with an array of colorful gummy bears sat in the cupholder of the center console, and it caught her eye. She fisted a handful of the candy with a snicker before closing his truck up with the wrench in hand. Johnny won’t miss a few gummies, she thought.

She popped a few in her mouth as she strolled in, her nose and mouth scrunched at the taste. Sugar free, gross. “Here,” she kicked his boot to catch his attention.

Johnny reached a hand out and took it from her without breaking focus.

Her other hand reached into the receipt-full pocket and threw them in the bin. “You gotta clean out your truck, an avalanche of trash fell out when I opened the door.”

“You offerin’?” Johnny scoffed. “I’m a wee bit busy fixin’ yer sink.”

Andra snorted. “If Ghost can keep his truck clean, so can you.”

“Pissin’ blight, the two of you…” Johnny growled as he struggled to loosen up the pipe.

She continued chewing on another gummy, regretting that she took so many. “I know, it’s a pain in the neck sharing parental responsibilities with Ghost at your grown age.” Her face grimaced at the taste of the gummies once more. “These gummies are ass.”

Johnny grunted as metal clinked on metal, followed by the sound of water hitting the bottom of a bucket. “Which ones?”

Andra swallowed the last bitter gummy she had. “I got them from your truck.”

“You what – agh, shite!” He cursed as he bumped his head while trying to pull himself up from under the sink. “How many did you have?”

Her shoulders shrugged. “Five or six, maybe?”

“Ghost is gonna skin me.”

-----

Ghost couldn’t leave Johnny alone to handle a clogged sink for more than an hour without getting a message talking about ‘It’s not my fault’. Luckily, he was already on his way back with takeaway and a fresh new six pack of that water Andra likes.

He was relieved to see the house wasn’t flooded, but found the front door open with just the mesh, screen frame keeping the bugs out. His hands were full with the bags, so he used his index finger to pull the screen door open and found Andra laying on the couch, staring up at the ceiling with an open bag of crisps laying on her stomach.

Ghost set down the plastic bags on the coffee table and stepped up to the edge of the couch. “You alright, doll?”

A wide smile spread across her face. “I can’t feel my face, and I see Gilbert Gottfried on the ceiling.”

Johnny rushed to the living room, a guilty look in his sapphire eyes. “Before you wallop me –”

“What happened?” Ghost demanded.

“Andra mistook my edibles for normal gummy bears and helped herself.” He slowly flinched away with every word he said.

A giggle came from the woman that barely took up the length of the couch. “Had to collect the Andra tax for stealin’ my water.” Her southern lilt came out for a moment.

“Christ alive, Johnny.” Ghost oughta grab him by the collar of his shirt and kick him in the ass, leaving him out on the front porch. He was more concerned with Andra to follow up on his promise. Ghost helped her sit upright, taking one hand and supporting her back with the other and set the crisps on the table behind him. “Look at me, sweetheart.” His mitt-sized hands cradled her face between one another.

Her pupils were blown out dilated, the honey brown eclipsed by the void. She giggled once more, her lids barely staying open. “Thump-thump, thump-thump, thump-thump.”

Ghost scrunched his eyebrows in confusion. “What’s that about?”

“My heart beating faster when you hold me like that.” He couldn’t help himself from grinning at that, and he pulled his hands away from her. “I can feel my nose throbbing.”

“I thought you said you can’t feel your face.” He retorted.

Her smile dropped as her cheeks turned pink. “Then it’s not my nose throbbing.”

“Screamin’ Jesus.” Johnny groaned. “I’ll go unpack the takeaway –”

Ghost shot him a daggered glare when Johnny reached for the plastic bag holding the food. “Keep your recreational substances out of sight next time.”

Johnny disappeared to the kitchen, mumbling something under his breath about how she shouldn’t be taking things that aren’t hers.

Rich coming from him.

“I’ll crack you open one of those waters and bring you your food.” Ghost pushed himself up onto his feet. “You feel like eating?”

Andra slumped against the couch, her lower lip tutted out for a pout. “Can we eat here? I don’t want to get up.”

“Of course.”

-----

With Andra still high as a kite after a few hours, Ghost made sure to check her pulse every now and then to make sure it wasn’t too elevated. He smacked Johnny upside the head when he told Ghost what dose of THC was in each candy.

Andra didn’t seem like the kind of person to eat edibles every now and then, or even ever. He was impressed with how she handled the effects. He expected her to panic at some point in the evening, but the worst she ever did was separate the ingredients in her shrimp fried rice and ate them all separate.

“Why are you even taking edibles, Johnny?” Ghost asked as he grabbed a water bottle from the fridge.

Johnny answered as he continued to wipe up the kitchen floor. “Helps me sleep, and sometimes I just wannae enjoy the high.”

It wasn’t Ghost’s thing, alcohol was hardly a substance he would have once in a blue moon. That was a different story a couple of years ago, but he decided to call the weekend drinks quits after getting into yelling matches with Johnny a few too many times. And then stopped drinking by himself at home after Price’s detox treatment.

“Where’s the Spotify app?” Andra said out loud in the living room. Ghost found her scrolling through the apps on the large screen in her hand.

Ghost leaned against the doorway. “That’s my phone, doll.”

“Thaaat makes sense.” She made no effort to give back the phone that didn’t belong to her. He could see her downloading Spotify and logging in with her own credentials, and he had no reservations about her being on his device.

Andra stood up from the couch and made her way out the front door. “Come look at the sky with me, I wanna see the stars.”

Ghost stuffed his water bottle in one of the pockets on his cargo pants and went to retrieve a blanket from the hallway closet. He met Andra outside where she was already laying supine on the bed of his truck, leaving the rear gate hung open.

“Let me put this down.” He offered.

Andra sat up and scooted herself to the edge of the trunk while Ghost wrung out the king size blanket and laid it over the hard bed of the truck. She returned to her spot and Ghost followed in suit, lying beside her with his arms behind his head. The temps were dropping, but Andra was unbothered by the chilly air. Ghost enjoyed this kind of weather, cold without a trace of humidity.

“I’m gonna head out now.” Johnny announced as he opened the door to his truck. “The sink is good to go.”

“Thank youuu.” Andra beamed. “Drive safe.”

Johnny’s tires crunched on gravel until it was out of earshot, leaving Andra and Ghost laying beneath the evening sky.

Music was playing at a tolerable volume from his phone on top of the metal toolbox above their heads, coexisting with the sound of chirping insects off in the distance. The sky blushed pink and orange hues off on the horizon; it wouldn’t be long before the sky went dark.

“When I first moved out here,” Andra started, “I would come out here and lay under the stars. Out here, I can see so much more than when I was in the city. I’ve traveled out of the city every now and then when I lived in the states, but it was never like this.”

Ghost hummed in agreement. He’s spent countless nights sleeping under the stars, nights where he could see even more than now. It felt like he was looking at galaxies, so vibrant it was as if he could reach out to caress the constellation’s translucent veils.

Andra turned her head to Ghost, and he glanced in her direction. “Tell me a story.”

He rolled his lips as he thought of one. “When I was out in Urzikstan in 2019, I had gotten lost with my squad in the sand dunes one night. One of the locals a few days prior to this told us not to follow the north star if we ever got lost, the desert played tricks on its victims and send them in circles until dehydration or the steep temperature drop would take them.

“The local told us ‘Follow the Andromeda constellation, she won’t betray you’. She didn’t, and we found our way back with the rest of our company.”

Ghost was about to point up to the sky when Andra beat him to it, aiming directly to where the formation of stars that comprised the Andromeda. “That’s the constellation I was named after,” she giggled to herself, “That’s so wild.”

Ghost lifted his head and looked at her.

“My dad named me Andromeda, and my youngest brother Orion. He was kind of into space stuff if you couldn’t tell.”

Ghost chuffed. “You don’t say." The warmth of her hand was electrifying, but he didn’t pull away. She just let her hand rest over his, each digit laying over his. Ghost returned his gaze to the twinkling stars of Andromeda. His fingers interlaced with hers, holding a piece of his own constellation that brought him here in this moment.

taglist: @fried-papad @onomatobooyah

[caputvulpinum]

Hey, this is a weird and heavy question that could land you in hot water no matter which direction you answer in, so feel free to just ignore me, it's not imperative that you answer or anything. But I don't have a lot of kink-positive (or frankly sex-positive) people that I trust and you seem to have put a lot of time and work into that kind of stuff (or maybe it just comes naturally to you! Regardless, I value your opinion).

I don't know how to make my peace with age regression as a kink, or if I even need to. I've done a lot of unlearning when it comes to a sanitized, puritanical mindset that I was raised with. My general opinion now is "if no one's in danger of getting hurt just leave it be". But I can't help but see people who participate in age regression as a huge red flag- depending on their role in the situation. If I'm friends with someone and they tell me they have a "little" persona or whatever sure that makes me internally cringe but mostly I just feel bad for them because they almost always have trauma. (Baby talk makes me wanna barf but maybe that's a me problem). But when I learn that someone is into people who essentially act like a child or a baby in the bedroom, I'm gonna run for the fucking hills. That just seems like a giant red flag to me- if someone is able to get into a mindset where they can be sexual with someone who's acting like a child, I have a hard time feeling okay around that person.

I know you're no professional, and I'm not here to get validation. Like I said, I just value your insight and I'm wondering if you can introduce me to a new way of thinking about this. Am I wrong to write off someone for a sexual preference as long as it's technically between two consenting adults? Should I be challenging my thinking?

If you do take the time to answer this, know that I appreciate you so much. If you can't answer, I hope you have a good day anyways.

I feel as though relatively often there is confusion when it comes to the idea of kink positivity with regards to this sort of context. It can seem confusing or even impossible, because there are those who act as though being kink positive is the same thing as being personally anything-goes, fetishwise. It's just a matter of vocabulary--we hear "kink positive" and logically assume "we need to feel positive about this kink", right?

Except that's really not the case, no more than landback as a movement demands for creating native american ethnostates by "giving all the private property of america back". The reality is always a bit more complex.

For your specific example of age regression as a kink, it's a pretty common sentiment to just not like it and not want to engage with it. I feel that way--it isn't a matter of value or moral, it's just something that on a personal level I don't like and want nothing to do with.

But the key part of kink positivity is that I need to recognize that I can not be into something without making it a moral judgement on those who are. As you say: If the people involved are all consenting adults, it isn't my place to pass judgement or tell them how to live their lives so long as no one is getting hurt. I need to trust that as adults, they are capable of handling their own sex lives without my intervention. It is not my place to butt in and tell people that because I find their kinks gross that they need to watch out for red flags, any more than it would be anyone else's place to do the same to you.

Anon, you seem to be sort of trapped halfway. You are capable of understanding what kink positivity is supposed to be, but you're not--and forgive me if I'm wrong--really willing to seriously examine what "supposed to be" means when your personal tastes are being challenged. You're saying you're not asking me for validation, but you are asking verbatim "Am I wrong to write off someone for sexual preference as long as it's between two consentint adults?".

I don't really feel like I need to clarify the answer on that, Anon. I'll just point out that you should imagine how you would feel if someone wrote you off morally for one of your sexual preferences when it takes place between yourself and other consenting adults, and whether or not you feel the justifications you'd make against that person could be meaningfully different than the ones someone who participates in age regressions would make to you.

At the end of the day, framing it internally as "It seems like a red flag" is just a way to frame your reaction as morally superior. It is a way of saying "I'm not judging this badly because I don't personally enjoy it, I'm trying to help people. Them doing this is dangerous and I need to be involved and even be against them doing this for their own good". It is the same pearl-clutching Puritan thinking as any fundamentalist Christian would, and it leads to the same thing: Telling full-grown adults that how they have sex between themselves is fundamentally wrong and that your dislike at the very idea of them partaking in it takes priority over their ability to partake in it at all.

I'd suggest asking yourself whether or not you feel as though you'd be respected if someone approached you and told you that, yes, they understand that you're a fully grown adult consenting to sex in this manner, but they don't trust your ability to consent because it seems to them as though there's red flags involved and therefore they DO have a right to get involved in your sex life. For your own good, of course. It isn't your fault that you're into something bad like this. You're traumatized. It's just that people who want to have sex with you are actually taking advantage of you and hurting you, and you just don't know it because you're traumatized, so it's up to other people to tell you how you should and shouldn't have sex and who you shouldn't have sex with.

[dve]

☕️ tamsyn muir

ohhhh hmmm i think tamsyn is a talented writer with a fun style who’s clearly done her time in the trenches of fandom space and is therefore understandably uninterested in engaging in certain elements of it. just being honest i don’t know much about her personally and frankly i don’t think i’m all that interested in knowing much about her! like she’s fine ig. i’m not saying death of the author or anything i just don’t think about her too much tbqh!

that said i think her ability to layer things in-text so that each subsequent reread is more intriguing than the last is really interesting, and while her prose is not my favorite (i think that really might go to seth dickinson honestly) among contemporary authors i think she really does have a certain je ne sais quois about the way she writes that wraps you up and doesn’t let you go, and then the book is finished. i think she’s got a dab hand at fleshing character dynamics out farther than any other author i can think of — it really does get complicated and i enjoy the way she complicates it even if in fandom these dynamics also get pared down for the sake of easy shippability or w/e (general statement not meant to be applied to any one ship just so we’re clear; the blorbofication of any little guy is inevitable in fan spaces and i get that)

if i had one major critique i really don’t love how tamsyn handles character descriptions especially pertaining to her nonwhite chars; i know gideon was published around a time when there was a lot of conversation around white authors and how they deal with race (for anyone wondering and about to send an ask about it i have seen the naberius tern monitor lizard post many times), and while i know she’s specified how she envisioned characters outside of the books i wish those descriptions were made manifest in the text more often. it could also be that some of that has to do with writing style and how she likes to approach things and maybe publisher interference or whatever idk but it leaves a gross taste in my mouth that i’ve talked about in private spheres before.

i really enjoy her stuff overall — i’ve read a few things written by her outside of the locked tomb and i think she’s a skilled writer and the way she establishes her worldbuilding is definitely fun in that it lets people sort of grab it by the horns and go crazy without like. authorial interference if that makes sense. like i enjoy the lack of clarity and rules to a degree and i think it takes a certain finesse to be able to do that without having the books feel messy or inconsistent

send ☕️ + a topic and i’ll share my thoughts on em 💗

[naminethewriter]

On the Road, Just the Two of Us

Chapter Two: A Game for Just the Two of Us

Masterpost | First | Next | Ao3

Summary: This was written for @dukeceit-week-2024, @dukeceitweek

Janus and Remus are living in a campervan at the moment. Are they going somewhere? Who knows. The only thing that’s important is that they’re together.

Content Warnings: Innuendos, Food, Gross Food Combinations

🌻🌻🌻🌻

“Remus, keep your eyes on the road.”

“There’s no other car in sight though!”

“Right, and that can’t change any second. Or you drive off the road and we get stuck in the mud,” Janus scoffed.

Remus whined, “But I’m bored!”

“Then stop and I’ll drive.”

“No! You drove most of yesterday, you need rest!”

“Then stop complaining.”

Remus grumbled but kept quiet. Instead, he started shifting in his seat, trying to get the energy out. Janus watched him worriedly. There must be something to keep him occupied while still focusing on the road, right? He let his eyes wander around what he kept at the front of the camping van, looking for any inspiration.

He found it when his eyes fell on their food supply.

“I have an offer for you,” he announced to Remus, whose eyes flickered to him instantly, though he directed them back to the road just as quick.

“What?”

“We’ll play a game. I’ll mix some of our food in unusual combinations and you try to guess what it is. No peeking, so keep your eyes on the road. If you can’t we’ll stop playing.”

Remus practically vibed in his seat from the excitement and he nodded.

“Gimme, gimme, gimme!”

“Let me have a moment to prepare, you child,” Janus laughed, glad that his idea was well received. He started sorting through the basket of stuff they kept up front for mid-drive snacks and placed them around himself for better reach. Then he considered what to combine first.

“Alright, open your mouth. And remember, eyes on the road the entire time.”

With a little whoop, Remus followed his instructions and Janus popped the first thing in his mouth, impaled on a toothpick.

“Close and guess.”

Remus chewed excitedly but his expression soon shifted to disappointment.

“Oh, c’mon, Janny! Peanut butter and apple? That’s too easy!”

“Is it now?”

“Yes! I can’t really taste the apple but its crunch gives it away.”

“Does it?”

Remus furrowed his brows. He was pretty certain, but Janus’ smug tone gave him pause.

“Yes?” he replied, more unsure.

“You don’t sound as convinced anymore.”

Remus whined loudly.

“Don’t play mind games with me right now, Janny! That’s unfair! Tease me when we’re in bed together, not now!”

“Fine, fine, fine. It was a pear, not an apple.”

“…You hate crunchy pears.”

“I do.”

“Then why do we have some?”

“Because we’re living in a campervan and don’t go shopping as regularly as we usually do. So I bought some harder pears so that they can soften over a few days,” Janus explained, already putting together the next combination.

“You’re so smart, Jan.”

“Thank you. Now open your mouth.”

🌻🌻🌻🌻

They continued playing like that for another twenty minutes or so. Then Janus announced he had the final thing prepared.

“Awww, do we have to stop already?” Remus complained. Amazingly, he really had been able to keep his eyes gay forward the entire time.

“Yes. I don’t want to waste all our supplies on one game. And while I do know you have a stomach made of iron; I really don’t want you to get diarrhea while we’re in the middle of nowhere.” They did have an on-board toilet, but it was quite small and needed regular emptying. It would not be able to handle what Remus loved to call ‘The Shits™’.

“I guess that makes sense,” Remus agreed, though he still sounded unhappy about it. “Give me the goods.” He hung his mouth wide open and Janus put the last combo on his tongue. Remus chewed for a long moment.

“Pickle water definitely.”

“Yes.”

“It’s really chewy. But all I can taste is the pickles.”

“I might have put this in the jar as soon as we started playing the game.”

“So it’s been sitting in there for like half an hour?! No wonder only the pickles remain!”

“Closer to twenty than thirty minutes but I guess that makes little difference.”

“Smartass.”

“You’re so right, my ass is really smart.”

Remus cackled for a moment before he concentrated back on what he’d just eaten.

“You actually stumped me, fucking shit,” he mumbled a full minute later. Janus smirked.

“It was a sour snake.”

“You smart fucker!”

“Thank you.”

“We’re so playing this again. With a full kitchen. You have to feed me more weird shit.”

“Sure, Remus. I totally don’t regret making this game up now.”

Remus laughed again, bright and cheerful. Janus smiled. Yes, that’s how his boyfriend should always look.