#if none exist i'll do it myself

[anarcho-masochist]

Okay, I thought this was universal but maybe my last three therapists were right that it is not:

Is it normal for boredom to be truly unbearable?

As in, worse than anything else, would rather get eviscerated while fully conscious, will do anything to escape it which might actually include suicide if no satisfactory options are available?

[le-panda-chocovore]

PRIDE MONTH MEAN IT'S TIME TO COME BACK WITH MY PRIDE PICREW OF MYSELF !!!!

[red-dyed-sarumane]

ive known from the other ones ive downloaded that the official midis for magu songs need some editing to be accurate but please tell me how its missing two whole major sections for marshall maxmizers. fine whatever give me 3 years i'll fill it in myself.

[bayobayo]

I wonder, are there any fanfics out there where Will is secretly a wizard from the Harry Potter universe?

[ff2-soda-pop]

love how if i think about a lot of the stuff related to maruki p5 for just a SECOND too long i manage to confuse myself so bad it makes my head hurt ASDFGHGFD

[kindacreepy-kindaugly]

I mean I'm not goin back to him I'm not(!!!) but at this point I got no idea why

Literally just screaming into the fucking void

He already broke me to the point where all the shit he's said are my only core beliefs n even if I try to shut down the voice in my head repeatin it all I still believe every damn word

So no matter how long I cut him off for it's always there just the same. But no one else can always be there to make it go away. W/ him I at least go from a total waste of oxygen to the one thing I'll ever be any good for. It's an upgrade I can almost live with.

So what's the point? What do I or anyone gain from me stayin away?

I've been tryin so fucking hard n it's just not getting any easier. I don't know where to put all this fucking self loathing, I can't keep pouring it onto other people. I always need to keep so damn much inside n some of it still spills out n that's already bordering on too much. I don't wanna be a burden. I know everyone is, to some extent, but not like this. Not all the time. Plus they have something to give in return, I only have things no one else wants, just Val's happy to take em if offered.

I still feel the pull all the fucking time. It's like the chain he used to have around my neck but I know he's not doin the pulling, he doesn't care if he has me or not anymore. It's all me now. I'm the one who keeps wanting to go back. The rational part of me is screaming no cause I know he'll just hurt me n find new ways to cut even deeper but. What's left that he hasn't already done?

Maybe this time he'll make the feelings n the noise go away. Maybe this time he'll make it all quiet.

[thedevotionaltour]

anyone else ever remember how they are gonna end up in some dead end soul sucking job instead of the actual career they wanna pursue because they are far too unskilled for it. just me. awesome.

[kindnessoverperfection]

Please, if you can, take a moment to read and share this because I feel like I'm screaming underwater.

NPD (Narcissistic Personality Disorder) stigma is rampant right now, and seems to be getting progressively worse. Everyone is using it as a buzzword in the worst ways possible, spreading misinformation and hatred against a real disorder.

I could go on a long time about how this happened, why it's factually incorrect (and what the disorder actually IS), why it's harmful, and the changes I'd like to see. But to keep this concise, I'll simply link to a few posts under the cut for further reading.

The point of this post is a plea. Please help stop the spread of stigma. Even in mental health communities, even around others with personality disorders, in neurodivergent "safe" spaces, other communities I thought people would be supportive in (e.g. trans support groups, progressive spaces in general), it keeps coming up. So I'm willing to bet that a lot of people on this site need to see this.

Because it's so hard to exist in this world.

My disorder already makes me feel as if I'm worthless and unlovable, like there's something inherently wrong and damaged about me. And it's so much harder to fight that and heal when my daily life consists of:

Laughing and spending time with my friends, doing my utmost best to connect and stay present and focused on them, trying to let my guards down and be real and believe I'm lovable- when suddenly they throw out the word "narcissist" to describe horrible people or someone they hate, or the conversation turns to how evil "people with narcissistic personality disorder" are. (Seriously, you don't know which of your friends might have NPD and feels like shit when you say those things & now knows that you'd hate them if you knew.)

Trying to look up "mental health positivity for people with npd", "mental health positivity cluster bs", only to find a) none of that, and b) more of the same old vile shit that makes me feel terrible about myself.

Having a hard time (which is constant at this point) and trying to look up resources for myself, only to again, find the same stigma. And no resources.

Not having any clue how to help myself, because even the mental health field is spitting so much vitriol at people with DISORDERS (who they're supposed to be helping!) that there's no solid research or therapy programs for people like me.

Losing close friends when they find out, despite us having had a good relationship before, and them KNOWING me and knowing that I'm not like the trending image of pwNPD. Because now they only see me through the lens of stigma and misinformation.

Hearing the same stigma come up literally wherever I go. Clubs. Meetings. Any online space. At the bus stop. At the mall. At a restaurant. At work. Buzzword of the year that everyone loooves loudly throwing around with their friends or over the phone. Feels awesome for me, makes my day so much better/s

I could go on for a long time, but I'm scared no one will read/rb this if it gets too much longer.

So please. Stop using the word "narcissist" as a synonym for "abusive".

Stop bringing up people you hate who you believe to have NPD because of a stigmatizing article full of misinformation whenever someone with actual NPD opens their mouth. (Imagine if people did that with any other disorder! "Hey, I'm autistic." "Oh... my old roommate screamed at me whenever I made noise around him, and didn't understand my needs, which seems like sensory overload and difficulty with social cues. He was definitely autistic. But as long as you're self-aware and always restraining your innate desire to be an abusive asshole, you're okay I guess, maybe." ...See how offensive and ignorant that is?)

Stop preventing healthcare for people with a disorder just because it's trendy to use us as a scapegoat.

If you got this far, thank you for reading, and please share this if you can. Further reading is under the cut.

NPD Criteria, re-written by someone who actually has NPD

Stigma in the DSM

Common perception of the DSM criteria vs how someone may actually experience them (Keep in mind that this is the way I personally experience these symptoms, and that presentation can vary a lot between individuals)

"Idk, the stigma is right though, because I've known a lot of people with NPD who are jerks, so I'm going to continue to support the blockage of treatment for this condition."

(All of these were written by me, because I didn't want to link to other folks' posts without permission, but if you want to add your own links in reblogs or replies please feel free <3)

[baekuras]

Today my period actually got me because I can call in sick after 2 weeks of hell and also rescheduling bullshit and a future week of some grade A bs I call ~overtime

Aka I am gone a 6hour drive away to a whole other city for studying (mandatory) for the week and have to drive the same 6hours back (only half the time counts as worktime because I dont have a car I drive via bus&train) USUALLY that’d overall equal to 39 hours aka a normal workweek Alas my boss scheduled me for the saturday afterwards, starting the early shift as well, because he can’t schedule I guess It seems it’s more important that the people who are scheduled to have their saturday off have that and woops we just can’t shift that around or ask for extra help no please come in early when you’re home EARLIEST if ALL GOES WELL ON PUBLIC TRANSPORT(lol)at 10pm

Like...okay....sure.....yeah for me it’s possible to get 8hours of sleep in if I just crashland onto my bed but not for my coworker who also takes the same trip and class or whatever as me who is ALSO scheduled early

yes i am quite a bit annoyed at that and I won’t take anything except 2 days in a row off because that’s what has been taken from me that week because fuck.you

anyhow i will no eat painkillers like candy and also eat actual candy and just burritto myself in bed for the next couple hours and also eat toast because i do not need nausea getting out of hand again

[decolonize-the-left]

Ive seen an influx in posts asking the LGBT community to hold itself accountable for ace/aro bigotry and they're fucking right.

How are we supposed to hold homophobes and transphobes accountable and demand they do better when we won't even do that for each other?

We're a community right? A family who's supposed to look out for each other? What happened to everyone being valid? Is a sibling saying "you hurt me, please correct it somehow" not valid?

For my part I'll admit I was part of this.

I was on the side of the asexual exclus back in the late 00's/early 10's. I was deep in the belief that oppression had to be systematic in order to count and at the time I didn't see any systematic oppression faced by aces. I even identified as ace and I didn't consider myself oppressed for being asexual. I saw the hostility and vitriol directed at aces everyday...but I didn't see it as wrong. I didn't see it as bigotry. I saw it as righteous anger.

I know how awful things were because I was one of the people making them that way. There is Real trauma that was experienced. There's no fucking way that a normal person could be invalidated that much and take the vitriolic bigotry aces/aros did everyday and have it not leave a lasting impact.

I fucked up. That was wrong and awful of me and I'm genuinely so fucking sorry.

I see the broken trust and promises between us now in 2023 and I see how shattered the community is and it's partly my fault. That gap is there because of me and people like me.

We should have loved and supported and welcomed you. We should have saw the way you were being treated and said something. You deserved to be protected and loved and supported from people who treated you that way.

And you weren't. We didn't. And it was normalized.

We absolutely fucking failed you as a community and as human beings. I need to own that. And I need to be one of the first people to trying to repair that.

And I know an apology is barely even a first step and I know it's just a drop in a giant bucket but I am sorry. For everything it's worth to you, I'm sorry.

Because of me and people like me you experienced the kind of identity trauma that typically only homophobes are capable of. And you experienced it at the hands of the community that's supposed to be fighting specifically that sort of ignorance against a-typical sexualities.

We fucked up

And it'd just be hypocritical salt in the wound if 10+ years later we ignored your asks for accountability and didn't do anything about it when it's resurfacing.

So yeah.

I was a bigot. I hurt people. I hurt my own community. I thought I was right and I wasn't. I was wrong. And so is everyone who insists on continuing that today.

There is no excuse or justification for it. I thought there was too but I was wrong and I'm gonna spend the rest of my life making up for it.

Whatever justification you find for treating people with a-typical sexualities and genders is shit. It has no leg to stand on and it sure as hell isn't being done for the sake of the community.

The LGBT community was founded not by people with checklists on how to be a Good Gay or Acceptable trans woman but by people being treated like shit for who they were choosing to love or not love. It was founded by people who's gender didn't fit in cishet boxes. It was founded by people who just wanted to be free to exist as themselves.

You can't treat asexuals or aros or bisexuals or pansexuals like shit and say that it's in the name of the LGBT community.

It's not.

It spits in the face of everything our community is supposed to be and it's time someone besides aces and aros said it.

None of us should be okay with how they're treated and all of us should be part of stopping it

[reiderwriter]

Hi I’m new to this so I’ve no clue if this is how you request, but I was thinking Spencer fluff, in earlier seasons where he’s a little bit more awkward but has a little bit of confidence, based on that one episode where hotch says Reid was propositioned by all the prostitutes & you’re dating him but you’re not the jealous type, they know what they have with Spencer is good and knows he worships the ground they walk on, so isn’t worried or threatened by anyone so while he’s getting hit on being a blabbering mess they just giggle to themselves making little suggestive comments. Hope this makes sense🥰

A/N: That's one of my favourite scenes because it's so hilarious to see Hotch cracking jokes for some reason. That and "did you join a boy band?" Iconic, truly. ❤️ Thank you for requesting, I'll shut up now.

Warnings: none

You were aware that Spencer Reid was a catch. Perfectly aware. More than aware. Desperately aware.

He was, quite possibly, the most attractive bean pole of a man that had ever walked the earth. He was beautiful and he was loving and his smile lit up the room and you were quite honoured to be able to call him your boyfriend.

It was not lost on you that many other people - not just women - also desired him. Which led to some downright hilarious instances.

“It's not funny, Y/N.” He pouted, that adorable furrow in his brow coming back and finding it's perfect place on his face as you stared up at him. You knew the expression you were showing him was a little bit dreamy, head in both hands as you gazed admiringly up at him, but you simply didn't care what kind of company you were in.

“Spencer, you were propositioned by 11 prostitutes.”

“I'm sure they were just teasing, Y/N. I'm awkward, I stand out like a sore thumb, I'm not buff or hot, I'm-”

“A complete and total liar!” You stood, gasping and grasping non existent pearls, playing up your disbelief. He cracked a smile and you paused briefly to send up a prayer to God, thanking them for putting a real angel on Earth.

“Spencer, you may be a little bit nerdy, and you absolutely do not know when to shut up. Your hair may always looks like your mom did it for school picture day, and your fashion sense is questionable to out it kindly-”

“Is there a but? I need there to be a but or I'll cry myself to sleep.”

“But those things are incredibly endearing. And did I mention you're really hot? It's like you're all members of the Scooby Doo cast rolled into one body and somehow that really works for me.” To punctuate your words, you took a step closer, letting your hand play with his tie as you slowly encouraged him to take a small step towards you as well, until you weren't sure where the heat that warmed you was coming from.

It could've been rolling off of him, or you, or it could've been a fire burning between you, as you fixed his tie and ran a hand through his hair.

“I'm not joking with you, Spencer. I love watching everyone appreciate your beauty and your intellect. Frankly, it turns me on.”

“Okay. I'll remember that, thank you.”

“Turns on the prostitutes, too.”

“Y/N! They're just trying to make a living, if you'd have been out there canvassing they'd have tried it with you too.” You had to giggle a bit at his loom of exasperation, flas to see that it was tainted with an uncontrollable smile, a small lifting at the corners of his mouth that he couldn't combat.

“Spencer Reid, Hotch told me that one of the girls offered you $100 for a ride.”

“That's not exactly cheap or a discount, Y/N, the going rate for a working girl in the area is-”

“Spencer. She was offering you money.” His brows knitted again and then his eyes widened in realisation.

“Oh. Oh, she did look very disappointed now that I think about it.” You pressed your hand to your mouth to suppress the small pleasurable giggles from slipping out and composed yourself, before slipping your arms around his waist.

“So, Spence. How is it that you know the going rate of a working girl?” You lifted your eyebrow and watched him panic, ready to memorise every expression that ever passed across his angelic features.

[cripplecharacters]

The Mask Trope, and Disfiguremisia in Media

[large text: The Mask Trope, and Disfiguremisia in Media]

If you followed this blog for more than like a week, you're probably familiar with “the mask trope” or at least with me complaining about it over and over in perpetuity. But why is it bad and why can't this dude shut up about it?

Let's start with who this trope applies to: characters with facial differences. There is some overlap with blind characters as well; think of the blindfold that is forced on a blind character for no reason. Here is a great explanation of it in this context by blindbeta. It's an excellent post in general, even if your character isn't blind or low vision you should read at least the last few paragraphs.

Here's a good ol’ tired link to what a facial difference is, but to put it simply:

If you have a character, who is a burn survivor or has scars, who wears a mask, this is exactly this trope.

The concept applies to other facial differences as well, but scars and burns are 99% of the representation and “representation” we get, so I'll be using these somewhat interchangeably here.

The mask can be exactly what you think, but it refers to any facial covering that doesn't have a medical purpose. So for example, a CPAP mask doesn't count for this trope, but a Magic Porcelain Mask absolutely does. Bandages do as well. If it covers the part of the face that is “different”, it can be a mask in the context used here.

Eye patches are on thin ice because while they do serve a medical purpose in real life, in 99.9% of media they are used for the same purpose as a mask. It's purely aesthetic.

With that out of the way, let's get into why this trope sucks and find its roots. Because every trope is just a symptom of something, really.

Roughly in order of the least to most important reasons...

Why It Sucks 

[large text: Why It Sucks]

It's overdone. As in — boring. You made your character visibly different, and now they're no longer that. What is the point? Just don't give them the damn scar if you're going to hide it. 

Zero connection with reality. No one does this. I don't even know how to elaborate on this. This doesn't represent anyone because no one does this.

Disability erasure. For the majority of characters with facial differences, their scars or burns somehow don't disable them physically, so the only thing left is the visible part… aaand the mask takes care of it too. Again, what's the point? If you want to make your disabled character abled, then just have them be abled. What is the point of "curing" them other than to make it completely pointless?

Making your readers with facial differences feel straight up bad. I'm gonna be honest! This hurts to see when it's all you get, over and over. Imagine there's this thing that everyone bullied you about, everyone still stares at, that is with you 24/7. Imagine you wanted to see something where people like you aren't treated like a freakshow. Somewhat unrealistic, but imagine that. That kind of world would only exist in fiction, right? So let's look into fiction- oh, none of the positive (or at least not "child-murderer evil") characters look like me. I mean they do, but they don't. They're forced to hide the one thing that connects us. I don't want to hide myself. I don't want to be told over and over that this is what people like me should do. That this is what other people expect so much that it's basically the default way a person with a facial difference can exist. I don't want this.

Perpetuating disfiguremisia. 

"Quick" Disfiguremisia Talk

[large text: "Quick" Disfiguremisia Talk]

It's quick when compared to my average facial difference discussion post, bear with me please.

Disfiguremisia; portmanteau of disfigure from “disfigurement” and -misia, Greek for hatred. 

Also known as discrimination of those mythical horrifically deformed people.

It shows up in fiction all the time; in-universe and in-narrative. Mask trope is one of the most common* representations of it, and it's also a trope that is gaining traction more and more, both in visual art and writing. This is a trope I particularly hate, because it's a blatant symptom of disfiguremisia. It's not hidden and it doesn't try to be. It's a painful remainder that I do not want nor need.

*most common is easily “evil disfigured villain”, just look at any horror media. But that's for another post, if ever.

When you put your character in a mask, it sends a clear message: in your story, facial differences aren't welcome. The world is hostile. Other characters are hostile. The author is, quite possibly, hostile. Maybe consciously, but almost always not, they just don't think that disfiguremisia means anything because it's the default setting. No one wants to see you because your face makes you gross and unsightly. If you have a burn; good luck, but we think you're too ugly to have a face. Have a scar? Too bad, now you don't. Get hidden.

Everything here is a decision that was made by the author. You are the one who makes the world. You are the person who decides if being disabled is acceptable or not there. The story doesn't have a mind of its own, you chose to make it disfiguremisic. 

It doesn't have to be.

Questions to Ask Yourself

[large text: Questions to Ask Yourself]

Since I started talking about facial differences on this blog, I have noticed a very specific trend in how facial differences are treated when compared to other disabilities. A lot of writers and artists are interested in worldbuilding where accessibility is considered, where disabled people are accepted, where neurodivergence is seen as an important part of the human experience, not something “other”. This is amazing, genuinely.

Yet, absolutely no one seems to be interested in a world that is anything but cruel to facial differences. There's no escapist fantasies for us.

You see this over and over, at some point it feels like the same story with different names attached.

The only way a character with a facial difference can exist is to hide it. Otherwise, they are shamed by society. Seen as something gross. I noticed that it really doesn't matter who the character is, facial difference is this great equalizer. Both ancient deities and talking forest cats get treated as the same brand of disgusting thing as long as they're scarred, as long as they had something explode in their face, as long as they've been cursed. They can be accomplished, they can be a badass, they can be the leader of the world, they can kill a dragon, but they cannot, under any circumstances, be allowed to peacefully exist with a facial difference. They have to hide it in the literal sense, or be made to feel that they should. Constantly ashamed, embarrassed that they dare to have a face.

Question one to ask yourself: why is disfiguremisia a part of your story?

I'm part of a few minority groups. I'm an immigrant, I'm disabled, I'm queer. I get enough shit in real life for this so I like to take a break once in a while. I love stories where transphobia isn't a thing. Where xenophobia doesn't come up. But my whole life, I can't seem to find stories that don't spew out disfiguremisia in one way or the other at the first possible opportunity.

Why is disfiguremisia a default part of your worldbuilding? Why can't it be left out? Why in societies with scarred saviors and warriors is there such intense disgust for them? Why can't anyone even just question why this is the state of the world?

Why is disfiguremisia normal in your story?

Question two: do you know enough about disfiguremisia to write about it?

Ask yourself, really. Do you? Writers sometimes ask if or how to portray ableism when they themselves aren't disabled, but no one bothers to wonder if maybe they aren't knowledgeable enough to make half their story about their POV character experiencing disfiguremisia. How much do you know, and from where? Have you read Mikaela Moody or any other advocates’ work around disfiguremisia? Do you understand the way it intersects; with being a trans woman, with being Black? What is your education on this topic?

And for USAmericans... do you know what "Ugly Laws" are, and when they ended?

Question three: what does your story associate with facial difference — and why?

If I had to guess; “shame”, “embarrassment”, “violence”, "disgust", “intimidation”, “trauma”, “guilt”, “evil”, “curse”, “discomfort”, “fear”, or similar would show up. 

Why doesn't it associate it with positive concepts? Why not “hope” or “love” or “pride” or “community”? Why not “soft” or “delicate”? Dare I say, “beauty” or “innocence”? Why not “blessing”? “Acceptance”?

Why not “normal”?

Question four: why did you make the character the way they are? 

Have you considered that there are other things than “horrifically burned for some moral failing” or “most traumatic scenario put to paper”? Why is it always “a tough character with a history of violence” and never “a Disfigured princess”? Why not “a loving parent” or “a fashionable girl”, instead of “the most unkind person you ever met” and “total badass who doesn’t care about anything - other than how scary their facial difference is to these poor ableds”? Don’t endlessly associate us with brutality and suffering. We aren’t violent or manipulative or physically strong or brash or bloodthirsty by default. We can be soft, and frail and gentle and kind - and we can still be proud and unashamed.

Question five: why is your character just… fine with all this?

Can’t they make a community with other people with facial differences and do something about this? Demand the right to exist as disabled and not have to hide their literal face? Why are they cool with being dehumanized and treated with such hatred? Especially if they fall into the "not so soft and kind" category that I just talked about, it seems obvious to me that they would be incredibly and loudly pissed off about being discriminated against over and over... Why can't your character, who is a subject of disfiguremisia, realize that maybe it's disfiguremisia that's the problem, and try to fix it?

Question six: why is your character wearing a mask? 

Usually, there's no reason. Most of the time the author hasn't considered that there even should be one, the character just wears a mask because that's what people with facial differences do in their mind. Most writers aren't interested in this kind of research or even considering it as a thing they should do. The community is unimportant to them, it's not like we are real people who read books. They think they understand, because to them it's not complex, it's not nuanced. It's ugly = bad. Why would you need a reason?

For cases where the reason is stated, I promise, I have heard of every single one. To quote, "to spare others from looking at them". I have read, "content warning: he has burn scars under the mask, he absolutely hates taking it off!", emphasis not mine. Because "he hates the way his skin looks", because "they care for their appearance a lot" (facial differences make you ugly, remember?). My favorite: "only has scars and the mask when he's a villain, not as a hero", just to subtly drive the point home. This isn't the extreme end of the spectrum. Now, imagine being a reader with a facial difference. This is your representation, sitting next to Freddy Krueger and Voldemort.

How do you feel?

F.A.Q. [frequently asked questions]

[large text: F.A.Q. [frequently asked questions]]

As in, answers and “answers” to common arguments or concerns. 

“Actually they want to hide their facial difference” - your character doesn’t have free will. You want them to hide it. Again; why.

“They are hiding it to be more inconspicuous!” - I get that there are elves in their world, but there’s no universe where wearing a mask with eye cutouts on the street is less noticeable than having a scar. Facial differences aren’t open wounds sprinkling with blood, in case that's not clear.

“It’s for other people's comfort” - why are other characters disfiguremisic to this extent? Are they forcing all minorities to stay hidden and out of sight too? That’s a horrible society to exist in.

“They are wearing it for Actual Practical Reason” - cool! I hope that this means you have other characters with facial differences that don’t wear it for any reason.

"It's the character's artistic expression" - I sure hope that there are abled characters with the same kind of expression then.

“They’re ashamed of their face” - and they never have any character development that would make that go away? That's just bad writing. Why are they ashamed in the first place? Why is shame the default stance to have about your own face in your story? I get that you think we should be ashamed and do these ridiculous things, but in real life we just live with it. 

"Now that you say that it is kinda messed up but I'm too far into the story please help" - here you go.

“[some variation of My Character is evil so it's fine/a killer so it fits/just too disgusting to show their disability” - this is the one of the only cases where I’m fine with disability erasure, actually. Please don’t make them have a facial difference. This is the type of harm that real life activists spend years and decades undoing. Disfiguremisia from horror movies released in the 70s is still relevant. It still affects people today.

"But [in-universe explanation why disfiguremisia is cool and fine actually]" - this changes nothing.

Closing Remarks

[large text: Closing Remarks]

I hope that this post explains my thoughts on facial difference representation better. It's a complicated topic, I get it. I'm also aware that this post might come off as harsh (?) but disfiguremisia shouldn't be treated lightly, it shouldn't be a prop. It's real world discrimination with a big chunk of its origins coming out of popular media.

With the asks that have been sent regarding facial differences, I realized that I probably haven't explained what the actual problems are well enough. It's not about some technical definition, or about weird in-universe explanations. It's about categorizing us as some apparently fundamentally different entity that can't possibly be kind and happy, about disfiguremisia so ingrained into our culture that it's apparently impossible to make a world without it; discrimination so deep that it can't be excised, only worked around. But you can get rid of it. You can just not have it there in the first place. Disfiguremisia isn't a fundamental part of how the world works; getting rid of it won't cause it to collapse. Don't portray discrimination as an integral, unquestionable part of the world that has to stay no matter what; whether it's ableism, transphobia, or Islamophobia or anything else. A world without discrimination can exist. If you can't imagine a world without disfiguremisia in fiction... that's bad. Sad, mostly. To me, at least.

Remember, that your readers aren't going to look at Character with a Scar #14673 and think "now I'm going to research how real life people with facial differences live." They won't, there's no inclination for them to do so. If you don't give them a reason, they won't magically start thinking critically about facial differences and disfiguremisia. People like their biases and they like to think that they understand.

And, even if you're explaining it over and over ;-) (winky face) there will still be people who are going to be actively resistant to giving a shit. To try and get the ones who are capable of caring about us, you, as the author, need to first understand disfiguremisia, study Face Equality, think of me as a human being with human emotions who doesn't want to see people like me treated like garbage in every piece of media I look at. There's a place and time for that media, and if you don't actually understand disfiguremisia, you will only perpetuate it; not "subvert" it, not "comment" on it.

I hope this helps :-) (smile emoji. for good measure)

Mod Sasza

[olsenmyolsen]

Bullseye

master list

dark master list

Post Hawkeye (Deaf Female Reader X Kate Bishop)

Summary: Your cute new friend Kate learns ASL for you.

Word Count: 4.4K

Content None I think... just cuteness.

Two weeks ago, Kate Bishop saw you across the library.

She had just finished classes and was rushing to pick up a book she needed for an essay she HAD NOT started when she saw you.

She hadn't seen you around before, and Kate was instantly mesmerized by how your cute face scrunched as you kept your head low to read. Kate couldn't take her eyes away, and she got to see your smile when you enjoyed a particular moment of your book.

Kate loved seeing your smile and how your eyes lit up.

Kate looked at her phone and truly needed to find the book and leave now or never. But on that day, Kate Bishop was feeling bold. Blame on the need for a certain thrill since Clint took her off Hawkeye duties to focus on school, but Kate started walking towards you.

You, however, never saw or heard her coming. Not when she tripped over her own feet. And not even when she stumbled sitting down next to you.

You had no idea Kate Bishop existed.

Maybe you would have if you had your aids in, but they made you feel embarrassed and inadequate, something you've struggled with for years. Something a certain someone would help you with in time. But, for now, you choose to go without them 99% of the time.

So when Kate started with a simple greeting, that turned into an overcomplicated rambling where she gave you numerous unwanted compliments.

You didn't hear it.

In fact, you didn't even look over to the now slummed-over pretty girl with the blue-grey eyes until she slammed her head on the table in defeat.

The vibrations of the repeated knock of the head against wood alerting you.

You put a bookmark in your book before closing it to look around, hoping maybe someone lost their friend because you had no idea why she was sitting at your table.

But at last, no one had lost the captain of the archery team. So you waited for her to look up, hoping to get an answer, and when she did, you're lucky your mouth didn't drop open.

She was gorgeous. Stunning actually. You had no idea why she was sitting here, but now you didn't want her to leave. You were about to lift your hand when you saw her eyes open in shock before her pink lips started speaking a hundred miles per minute.

Too fast for you to keep up.

You tried to get her to stop, but before you knew it, the last thing you saw was her black ponytail bouncing away.

You didn't know what to make of the last two minutes, but there wasn't much you could do. So, with a frown and shrug of the shoulder, you returned to your book. Wishing you got a chance to say anything.

Exiting the library, Kate Bishop was red in the face. You had just sat there ignoring her as she tripped over all of her words and called you beautiful and babe within two sentences. She didn't know what was wrong with her. She wanted to stab herself with an arrow. Badly!

Kate shook her head because that wasn't even the worst part.

The worst part was when you finally looked at her. You acknowledged her. Kate was already embarrassed enough. So she apologized and claimed that she would never bother you again.

But yet here she was two weeks later. Spotting you from across the library just like before.

"Go!" Kate felt a nudge on her arm from her friend Laura Kinney—a fast friend of Kate after transferring from Canada a year prior.

Kate looked back at her friend. "Stop that! I'm not going." Laura rolled eyes. "You talked about this one chick not stop-"

"No! I talked about how I embarrassed myself once! You're the one who keeps bringing it up!"

Laura shook her head and nudged her friend again. "Go! She's cute, and if you don't go, I will." Kate turned her head to her friend, surprised, but saw that maybe her friend wasn't kidding. "Ugh." Kate turned back to look at you. "Fine! Okay! I'll try again!"

"Good luck!" Laura called out, knowing Kate would need it. Kate sent a thumbs up and did her best to calm her nerves. "Just apologize and don't ramble," Kate whispered to herself as she reached your table.

However, before Kate could do anything, you closed your book and turned away from Kate to put it in your bag—the action meant nothing to you. But to Kate, it would appear you didn't want anything to do with her.

That thought was further cemented when you got up without looking at her and started walking away.

Without realizing it, Kate began to walk after you.

Her walk turned into a quick jog when her brain finally caught up to what was happening. She was right behind you when she said: "Excuse me! Hi!"

Yet you kept walking.

Okay, the library is busy, and maybe Kate could've spoken up a bit louder, so she tried again, HOPING that you weren't actively trying to get away from her.

"Hi! Sorry to bother you, but I..." She trailed off when you kept moving forward, keeping your head staring straight ahead at the library's exit doors. Kate was growing embarrassed and did the one thing she could think of.

She ran ahead and turned around, stopping you in your tracks.

"Hi!" Kate breathed out with a wave, coming face to face with you for the first time. You looked up from her lips, surprised at who was standing in front of you.

It was her!

Hi. You waved back with a questioning look to Kate's beautiful eyes before looking down to her lips—something Kate noticed.

"Sorry to bother you, but I don't know if you remember me but..." That was all you caught reading her lips before Kate started speaking quicker and quicker than you could process.

In your defense, even Clint Barton, an Avenger, said Kate had more speed talking than Captain America did running.

You held your hand up, shutting Kate up. She looked at you with curious eyes and waited to hear your voice, but instead, you started signing.

I do remember you.

Kate immediately felt embarrassed. She knew very little to almost nothing of what you were saying.

She promised Clint she would start learning when he began teaching, but for someone who helped save the world, he could still be stubborn. But now The Archer regretted not learning ASL.

Kate awkwardly smiled, making you smile back, in turn, causing Kate's face to flush red. You caught it. While looking at one another, you both thought the other person was beyond cute.

"I'm sorry," Kate spoke slower than she usually would. You tilted your head as she continued. "I don't know ASL."

You made a flat smile and nodded. Most people didn't. So it wasn't surprising that the first new cute girl to talk to you in some time didn't know it either. It just meant it would be harder to forget her when she inevitably didn't want to make the effort.

But you had never met Kate Bishop till before this moment. You didn't know that she was just as stubborn as her mentor but a thousand times more annoying when she needed to be. She wasn't going to give up.

She was going to learn for you.

She was going to speak to you.

Kate watched you nod and go to walk away, but she stepped in front of you again. "Wait!" She held her hands up and quickly pulled out her phone, handing it to you. You took it as it sat on the New Contact screen and looked up with furrowed brows. "Please?" Kate asked, making you nod and blush.

Kate watched your fingers fly over the keyboard before you handed it back. You watched Kate smile and try not to laugh at your contact name: Y/N 👂❌

You bite back your own laughter. Having been used to not everyone being comfortable with something you lost at a young age.

Kate looked up to see your smile and finally broke laughing. Her pearly whites were on display until she closed her mouth and started typing in her phone.

A few seconds later, yours buzzed in your pocket. Pulling it out, you looked up and smiled. The text read: "Hi Y/N. I'm Kate Bishop 🏹!" You nodded and made that her contact name.

"So Kate Bishop... what can I do you for?"

You typed and immediately regretted sending because you sounded like someone who was a boring attorney. But Kate found it kind of charming.

You looked down from her as the three dots popped up and down, but nothing happened. You looked back up at Kate, who was nervously biting her lip.

"You ok?" You typed to Kate, who stopped biting her lip, avoided your eye contact, and replied: "Yes. Sorry!" But Kate wanted to say more. She wanted to say: "I was going to ask for your number earlier, but we kinda blew through that quicker than I imagined. So now I don't know what to do?! Do I ask you out now? Is that allowed? Would you say yes?! You don't even know me!?"

But Kate didn't say that. Instead, she wrote: "I tried talking to you a couple of weeks ago because you seemed like a really cool person. Which you are! Ugh sorry. This is so embarrassing as I type this, but I wanted to know if you wanted to be friends? 😅"

Kate added the emoji, hoping to relieve any awkwardness. And it did. But Kate asking you to be friends wasn't where you thought this was going.

Truth be told, it wasn't.

But Katherine Elizabeth "Kate" Bishop wasn't going to ask you out over text. She was going to ask you face-to-face, and she didn't want you to read her lips to make it happen.

Yet you didn't know that. All you knew was that a cute, friendly girl was choosing to seek you out and wanted to get to know you. So you smiled and nodded to Kate, whose eyes lit up. "Great!" She audibly yelled, earning a fury of looks from people around.

But a smile from you.

"Sorry." You read Kates lips as she looked around at people shaking their heads and looking away.

Kate looked down at her buzzing phone to see a message from you. "Maybe we should leave the library. Are you busy rn?" Kate froze as she looked at the words on her screen. She was supposed to be courting you. Asking you out in time. Were you flirting? No. This is just what friends do. Hang out! The two of you were now friends! Right?

Kate's turmoil-struck brain could only process so much so fast before she decided to actually look at the time and realize, yes, she was supposed to be somewhere right now. Kate sent you a frown. "I actually should be on my way to archery practice."

That made a lightbulb go off above you. That's why she wanted her name like that in your phone. You thought Kate was being cute and was saying she was Cupid or was sent by Cupid or something. However, her being on the archery team made a lot more sense. You felt silly for thinking it was the former. But you pressed on.

"I have a free period right now. Can I come?"

Kate looked up from her phone and nodded with glee. "I'd love that!" Kate yelled once again, earning glares from everyone else in the room, but the two of you paid them no mind as Kate started leading the way.

On the walk, Kate and you enjoyed one another's company while also learning about the other one. It was new and slightly awkward but adorable to any outsider looking in. Like when you asked Kate if she took up archery because of the Hunger Games, she laughed and said no. She did it because she was saved by Hawkeye during the Battle of New York.

The very same battle you lost your hearing.

But Kate didn't know. She would in time.

Not right now.

The conversation about Hawkeye led to the two of you talking about your favorite Avengers. Kate's being obvious, and yours surprising her.

You said Natasha Romanoff—the Black Widow.

When asked why, you just sadly shrugged before replying through text: "The Avengers were all great. Most of them were role models. But none of them looked as good as she did in her uniform." You laughed to hide the tears in your eyes.

But Kate saw, leading you to type: "Plus, I bet she gave the best hugs." Kate smiled at that and could agree. Her and Wanda Maximoff probably gave the best hugs.

Where was Wanda, by the way??

Kate's phone buzzed, bringing her back. "Sorry... I could give actual reasons, but I don't want to cry right now." You smiled and swallowed the lump in your throat when Kate looked over at you.

Because Kate could relate, she had only gotten to hear Clint share less than a handful of stories about The Black Widow, and each time, they ended with the man in tears.

"I have a friend who's the same. It's okay." Kate sent back to you, making you feel better before you asked her if she had read Scott Lang's book, to which she said not yet.

Meanwhile, it was in your backpack.

Three weeks from now, she would borrow it and read the chapter dedicated to Natasha and cry.

As you and Kate walked up to the field holding practice, you had Kate lead you to a spot where you could safely watch from. Unbeknownst to you, the other girls around you were friends or girlfriends of the ladies on the team. So when people saw you walk up with THE Katherine Bishop, everyone started talking in hushed whispers.

But not that you knew.

However, you couldn't lie. Watching Kate's arms and fingers hold and mess around with something that's basically string and wood never looked so hot. On top of that, the shy, awkward, almost annoyingly cute girl you had become quick friends with didn't exist anymore. When the arrow flew from her fingers, she was confident, cocky, and dominant.

Also, she was easily the best of the team. Hot.

The warmth rising in you hit a tipping point when she pointed at you and then to the bullseye on the target before mouthing, "watch this." You expected Kate to turn and look to where she was shooting, but she didn't. She looked straight at you and let the arrow go. Your eyes went from Kate to the target.

Bullseye.

The girls around you erupted into a mixture of cheers, shock, and jealousy. They all turned to you, confusing you before you saw a couple of them smile and point back to Kate as if they were praising the two of you.

You're fairly certain you saw the word "girlfriend" being thrown around, but you just shook your head and waited for Kate to come to your rescue.

_

Over the next couple of months, as the season of spring was winding down to make way for the heat of summer, you and Kate had only grown closer. Your friendship had turned the two of you into being the best of friends.

Often being mistaken for girlfriends.

A mistake that always left you and Kate blushing but never saying how awful it would be if that was the case.

It was like there was a silent understanding. Kate knew what she was waiting for, and you were too nice and kind to even think about jeopardizing what you two had.

It was expected that if one of you was around, the other one had to be within ten feet. And this was true—most times. But there had been times in the past where if you woke up in the middle of the night after passing out while reading, you'd discover Kate gone. Her bag and clothes would still be there, but she was just gone. Well, herself and... her archery equipment.

That part confused you.

You wanted to bring it up to her. Because for one reason, whatever she was doing was making her exhausted. You could see it on her face better than anyone. She was tired mentally and physically. You didn't like seeing her like that.

The other reason is that it hurt you to see someone you cared about lying to you. You hated it and didn't want to hate the girl who started holding your hand on your walks across campus. The one who never missed a bullseye for you. The same girl who decided to read The Hunger Games instead of just watching the movies for you.

So when you couldn't bear yourself to bring it up to her, you decided to wait up and catch her.

Kate had no idea you had started to catch onto her. But it's not like Kate enjoyed sneaking around. Well, she did, but that was when she was chasing bad guys and doing some recon. But she hated it when it came to you. Sneaking around behind your back felt wrong, no matter the cause.

So, as Kate quietly picked up her bow and quiver, she looked over at your sleeping form and made a motion with her hands.

You didn't see it as you faked sleeping. But if you did, you would've understood why Kate was being sneaky.

Kate turned away from you and took a few steps towards her window. Kate opened it and reached back behind her when suddenly you flicked on the light in the bedroom of her dorm as she looked ready to jump out of her window. A labeled arrow prepared to fire.

Kate slowly lowered the bow and turned her head to you. You stood wearing her high school archery t-shirt and a pair of black shorts.

Kate couldn't help but smile. She loved seeing you in her clothes.

And you loved seeing her in yours, but right now, that was the last thing on your mind as Kate sheepishly said: "It's not what it looks like."

You threw your arms up at that and ran up to her, smacking your head as if to say, "what the hell are you doing?"

Kate sighed and knew that now was the time to say one thing or the other. Or maybe both?? Kate weighed her options before gently placing her bow on the bed you two had come to share. As friends of course.

You watched Kate let go of the bow before her hands found their way to yours. Taking them from your hips.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner." She started as you watched her pink lips speak. Tilting your head at the words she spilled before she softly let go of your hands to unzip her purple hoodie.

You gasped and covered your mouth when you saw what she was hiding. You looked from her guilty eyes back to her purple suit. Kate watched you step forward and raise a hand to her hip. The touch making her stomach flip while two of your fingers danced along the edge before gliding up the lining of the suit before they floated away.

Kate missing your contact already.

You couldn't believe what you were seeing. But yet, it made sense.

You'd been to enough practices to know the only match for Kate with a bow and arrow would be an Avenger. You looked to Kate's downward face and put your finger on the underside of her chin. Lifting it up. Her eyes meeting yours. You weren't mad. Well, you were, but if anything, now you were just shocked.

Are you Hawkeye? You signed without realizing it.

Yes. Kate signed ba— KATE SIGNED!

You took a step back in awe. Did that happen? You swallowed and stared at the girl, holding back a smile dressed in a purple superhero suit. Slowly, you raised your hands and, with a deep breath, signed: You can understand me?

Yes.Kate signed the exact same way as before, surprising you once again.

She was communicating with you in ASL. Your best friend- someone you cared for- No someone who you loved was signing!

Tears were threatening to spill as you ran into Kate and wrapped your arms around her. Your head burying its way into her neck. Kate wrapping her arms around you, holding you tight.

As Kate held you, she heard your sniffles and felt a few tears spill from your eyes. Kate bit her lip to keep her eyes from spilling.

It was then she decided she would keep the night of surprises going. So, after some time, she patted her hand against your back and removed her hold from you as you moved back to look at her. Your eyes were a little red, but Kate could see what was holding in them.

Kate smiled and started moving her hands. Since I met you, I've been learning ASL.

Your mouth dropped. With who? You could've asked me!?

You would've loved to teach Kate. But it had to be done this way.

Kate didn't answer you. Instead, she pulled out her phone and went to a secret photo album you had never seen before. Inside were pictures of her with Lucky, a family, some friends, and lastly... Clint Barton.

You looked up from the phone to Kate and back to the phone—Full-on, yanking it from her hands. You zoomed in on his face and then Kates before sliding through other pictures of the two of them together. A lot of them were unflattering pics of the grown man while Kate smiled brightly. But then there were some where Clint smiled and posed ridiculously for his mentee. You laughed and smiled at each one, including the ones of his family surrounding Kate.

You swiped once more, and a video automatically started to play. You felt the vibrations in your hand but couldn't make anything out. However, Kate knew exactly what was happening in the video.

It was Kate's first ASL lesson months prior. But that didn't start till ten minutes in. Instead, what was playing right now to the room was Kate in the video going on and on about this new friend of hers named Y/N. Kate mentions that you are the reason that she wants to learn sign language.

Slightly and purposely offending Clint.

"Okay, so let's say I manage to teach you, and you manage to learn, then what?"

Clint asks in the video.

"Then I ask her out."

Kate replies.

You looked up from the video to Kate. Asking why she is blushing, Kate takes a step closer to you and asks for her cell phone back. You place it in her hand. She hits the button on the side before putting it in her pocket.

I learned for you.

You watch Kate sign and mouth simultaneously, the feeling of wanting to cry from pure happiness returning. Why? You asked Kate as you smiled.

Kate lifts her hands and stops. She starts to sign but stops again.

The Archer breathes in and out.

Because ever since I met you, I've wanted to do one thing. Kate waits for you to nod back to her. I- Y/N... Y/N, do you want to go out?

She signs with a nervous smile.

Together? Sometime, like on a date. A real date! One where we dress up and go out on the town, not just eat junk in my-

You surprised Kate by jumping into her arms. Cutting off her ramblings in ASL. Kate barely had time to register to catch you before she felt just how soft your lips were.

Kate closed her eyes and melted into you. She marveled at the feeling of your smile as the kiss deepened. You pushed further into her and felt butterflies flutter inside of you at what you've wanted for so long.

Kate felt the same and would vow to always hold you closer than anyone ever could as she pulled you into her. Taking you all in.

Eventually, air had to return into your lungs.

You blushed harder when you and Kate separated. The heavy breathing between the two of you being the only noise in the room.

Yes, you signed when Kate placed you onto your feet. "You want to go out? With me?" Kate said, knowing you were watching her lips. But maybe she was wrong when she saw you shake your head no.

You moved back a bit as Kate kept her arms around your body.

I want to be your girlfriend. 

Kate looked at you, making sure she saw that right. "Girlfriend?!" She asked with a glint of hope. You smiled and brought your lips to hers as you nodded before moving your hands down to hers. Taking them off your body and placing them in yours as you moved them.

You kissed Kate again as she traced her fingers over your left hand, discovering the pinky and index finger were raised. She moved from your index finger down to your extended thumb.

She pulled back and looked at your hand watching it move towards her.

Kate brought her hands up to your face and quickly kissed your lips before she moved onto your cheeks and nose, forcing a giggle out of you.

When she let go of your head, she looked into your eyes and said with an unmistakable smile: "I love you too. I love you so much!"

Kate wrapped you into her arms and held you close before she could feel you patting her back.

When she let go, you smiled and asked: So girlfriends?

Kate nodded.Girlfriends.

A million more questions ran through you as you stood in Kate's arms. But before you could stop yourself, you started with: Oh, and Kate... You laughed and signed to her before continuing. Since I'm dating Hawkeye, do I get a cool name?

Kate laughed back and raised an eyebrow. "Sure! What would you want to be called?"

You tucked your bottom lip into your mouth as you thought. An action making Kate pull your lip out of your mouth with her thumb before bringing it to her lips, almost frying your brain to the point that you nearly didn't say your answer. Bullseye.

"Why is that?"

You shrugged but hid behind an innocent smile. Your eyes briefly darting to Kate's closet before looking back to Kate.

Because I want to be the only thing you can stick your arrow in.

dividers by @/benkeibear

[catgirl-kaiju]

reminder that i have also had nonsexual photos of me tagged as explict and sexual. i rarely post even any nudity and when i do, i put them on a side blog and voluntarily put community labels and filterable tags on them. any time i post an appeal, it never gets answered. i'm not even able to appeal community labels on those photos any more, and it breaks my heart because those are some of my favorite photos of myself. i've straight-up stopped posting selfies on here partly bc i've not taken many that i enjoy enough to share recently, but also because it's just too much of a hastle.

i've had this same blog continuously since 2012, since before i came out. over a decade now. if i lost it, i would be devastated. i also have meticulously curated side blogs for all of my art and comics, and my headmates also have their own blogs under this account. all of that would be lost.

predestrogen did not deserve this, she did nothing to violate tos. and it very easily could have been me or any other transfem person on here.

i've met friends and lovers on here. my art has found an audience on here. i've been able to crowdsource financial help on here when i've been at my lowest. i don't know if i would still be around if this website wasn't available to me. the thought of some staff member just erasing my presence from here is legitimately terrifying to me.

i'll repost every sfw image i've ever gotten a community label slapped on here and i fucking dare staff to do it again. i fucking dare you.

i'm lucky that it's not very many, but it's still true that none of these are mature content. none of these are images a cis woman would get flagged for. fuck you @staff for your blatant transmisogyny. fuck you for never taking my harassment reports seriously. fuck you for letting terfs and nazis just keep on existing here no matter how many times they're reported for violating tos.

[buckyhad]

Jealousy, jealousy

Pairing: bestfriend!Charles Leclerc x reader

Warnings: idk none i think

No proof-read

The day started as normal as a day in my life could start since my best friend, Charles, introduce me to some of the other drivers, who almost instantly clicked with me, but the one who did it the most was Lando.

Lando Norris, the funniest guy you could ever meet, with the most scandalous laugh, and some dark chocolate curls.

Lando was a handsome guy, everyone could see that, even Charles.

Leclerc loved Lando, but you were his best friend, not Lando's. So a little bit after you two met, and the british started talking more and more to you, Charles just got jealous.

The night before, you've crashed at Charles' apartment, after some drinks at some random bar and some dancing, ready to share a breakfast in the morning, until a call startled you awake, half an hour before you alarm.

I picked the phone cursing whoever it was and growling a very angry 'what' when I saw Lando's name on my phone.

"Hello to you too" he said with a sarcastic tone "I need some help, like right now. I'm picking you up in 15, be ready".

"Okay" I mumbled, rubbing the sleep off my eyes "I'm at Charles'".

"I know, you're always there" he laugh before hanging.

I got myself ready as fast as I could, stepping out of my room and making a bee-line towards the monagesque's room.

The door was half open, letting myself pick inside, showing a deep sleep Charles, arm al over his face, with his hair messy on his pillow.

I walked inside, shaking him a little bit to tell him I was going.

"Where?" He said without removing his arm from his face.

"Don't know, Lando said he need some help".

"Lando? So we are not having breakfast together?" He moved slightly his arm so he could open an eye to look at me.

"Of course we are, I'll wake you up when I get back" I smiled.

"I don't want you to go" he whined reaching for my arm "Lay with me please".

"Just until he gets here" I sighed.

"Okay" he said, cuddling by my side, going back to some light snoring really quick.

------

After helping the McLaren driver with his emergency going shopping for a dinner that night I went back to the apartment, waking up my best friend as I promise.

The evening went fast, doing some baking, and choosing an outfit to go out that night, until a notification for a stream from Max Fewtrell picked my attention.

Opening the stream on the tv, I saw the two british chatting about something, Lando in the all black outfit I made him buy, deciding to send an audio to him.

"Hello, watching Max's stream right now, I told you you would look really hot in that outfit" I finished with a laugh.

"Really hot huh" I heard Charles talk from behind me, making me turn around, looking at him and his crossed arms.

"He does, doesn't he?" I raised an eyebrow, picking at him a little.

"No" he shrugged.

"That's really mean Charles" I said and he rolled his eyes, making his way towards me.

"I would look better" he said, accent stronger than before. Kneling in front of me, moving vis face as close as mine as he could "I would, right?" He whispered.

I shivered, being so close to him that everything I could smell and see was him "Yes" I responded so low, that he could only hear me because of the almost non-existent space between us.

"That's what I thought" he moved some of my hair from my face, caressing my neck.

"Charles"

"What?" He smirked.

"Kiss me"

----

A/N: im sorry but the hold the edits of Lando in that outfit have on me is ridiculous, hope you enjoyed, wrote this in like 20 minutos. So happy for Carlos p3 in the sprint today.

I think we all know wich outfit im talking about but heres a tiktok just for fun ang giggles

https://vm.tiktok.com/ZM2a5ERqS/

[utterlyotterlyx]

Hiii <3 Could you do number 4 from the prompt list with Eris? It's my first time asking for a prompt or anything so i hope this isn't rude. 😅

Aw my loveeeee it isn't rude! Request your little heart out <3

I've already done 4 but I'll do it again for you with a different spin on it.

Can't Keep My Hands To Myself

Modern!Eris x Reader

Summary - It's no secret that Eris has always wanted you, and now he has the perfect excuse to get up close and personal.

Warnings - slight pining, some fluff, swearing, hand fetish

The sun bounced off of the hood of Cassian's car, and if you looked closer you could have sworn you could see wisps of steam rising from the matte black finish.

Folding your arms over your chest, you huffed, already knowing what was coming as soon as you'd point out a certain problem.

It had been Elain's idea to go to the coast that day, mainly so that you could all go to the theme park that ran along the beach, all being yourself, Elain and Lucien, Nesta and Cassian, and Eris. The latter of which was leaning against the hood of Cassian's vehicle with a sly grin written on his lips, sunglasses low on his nose, and hands bundled into his pockets.

Eris Vanserra was the bane of your existence, the cocky son of some noble lord in England who had moved to your state for college and had set an unfortunate eye on you. The heir could have anyone he wanted, but he was too busy chasing you to notice.

Eris had crashed one too many of your dates, and when you had made it clear that he needed to stop being an alphahole, he would slyly quip that none of the men you allowed into your life deserved you. He would always show his face at Elain and Lucien's apartment when you were there, which made you certain that one of them, probably Lucien, was sending him updates whenever you would show up. Eris stuck to your side when the entire circle decided to go out, whether that be bowling or dinner, or even clubbing, Eris was always reluctant to leave your side.

Possessive bastard.

You had lost count of how many times exactly you had denied his advances. It wasn't that you weren't attracted to him, you'd be foolish not to be, but you didn't really fancy ensuing a relationship with a future lord, you quite liked your life the way it was.

You majored in architecture, you had always appreciated the beauty of buildings and landscapes, you had travelled Europe and spent weeks in Paris where you sketched and redesigned buildings until your heart was full and bursting with inspiration. There was nothing you couldn't create.

Life as a lady didn't appeal to you, but life as an architect travelling the world and creating masterpieces very much did.

So, you made it your mission to deter the heir in whatever way you could, from cold shoulders to harsh quips, but it only seemed to spur him on more.

Eris stood before you, red hair perfectly styled into pushed back waves, looking far too good in his black jeans and open collared black shirt, a thin chain hung around his neck which matched the bracelet on his wrist, rings littered his fingers and you found your gaze drifting to his hands, hands you had thought about often when you were alone. You imagined them running through your hair and pulling at it, you imagined them around your throat, you imagined his fingers drifting along your thighs and gripping the skin there.

It was so sinful how much you thought of Eris' hands.

The door opened behind you and you rolled your eyes at the Archeron sisters who walked ahead of both Cassian and Lucien, who both looked exhausted from their bickering already.

Unfurling your arms from your chest, you pulled down the edge of your tennis skirt and tucked in a loose section of the deep green polo you adorned, "About time," you told them, "I'm baking out here."

"I know a place that could cool you down," Eris drawled from behind you, and you turned your head slightly to see him at your shoulder, looking down on you with his usual longingly seductive eye, "You, me, the Swiss alps on skis."

"Sounds positively awful," you smiled sickly sweet at him before moving your attention elsewhere, "I also hate to state the obvious but there are only five seats in Cass' car, and there's six of us," you motioned between the circle you had all formed and shrugged.

"What if you-"

You held your hand up in front of Eris' face, shushing him into silence, "If you're really about to suggest that I sit on your lap, I will kill you."

Cassian threw his head back and laughed, a howling one that filled you with pride as he walked to the driver side of his car, "Hate to break it to you Princess, but you don't have a choice."

"Why me?! Surely it makes more sense for Elain and Lucien to cuddle up?"

Elain ticked her tongue against the roof of her mouth, flinging the passenger door open, "It's my birthday so no, plus Lucien injured his knee at baseball practice so he needs to be able to stretch it out. Sorry, Y/N," Elain wiggled her eyebrows at you and dipped into the car, no doubt securing her spot in the middle seat.

Scowling, you turned to Eris who had never looked happier, fluttering your eyes in annoyance, you pointed at him, "Don't get any ideas, Vanserra."

Eris threw his hands up in mock surrender but the smirk didn't leave his lips as he spoke, "Wouldn't dream of it, y/l/n."

It took you a few moments to become settled in his lap, and you cursed yourself for allowing yourself to be friends with bright and shiny Elain, if you hadn't then you wouldn't be sat on some heirs lap, nestled on his thighs like some kind of trophy.

As soon as you were comfortable, you propped your feet on Elain's lap which she was happy to hold since you drew the short straw, and you leaned back onto the doorframe, half on the body of the interior and half on Eris.

His scent was earthy, wafts of pine and freshly blown out matches, you knew he smelled good, but you didn't realise how much.

Eris draped one of his arms over your legs and the other around your waist, and you couldn't exactly bark at him to fuck off when they were the only two places that his hands could go. His fingers delicately danged off of your thighs, his fingertips lightly brushing against your skin with every bump in the road, the coolness of his bracelet clashing against the warmth of your skin.

If only his fingers could go a little higher, and just grab the flesh of your thigh...

No, y/n.

Elain had convinced the car to play a game, a game that you and Eris had quickly denied, you were both quite happy with the silence. That is until you felt him frown and lean over slightly to peer at something, his fingers drifted along the hem of your skirt and he lifted it slightly to take a peek.

Your gaze found him, his russet eyes darkened with intrigue, "I didn't know you had a tattoo," he hummed, allowing his eyes to trace along the swirls of black ink that created an arrangement of delicately drawn roses and geometric shapes that encased your entire hip.

Cassian's car hit a bump and you jolted on Eris' lap, his arms instinctively wrapped around you to keep you in place as your head hit the roof of the car, "Sorry, y/n. These roads are awful," Cassian apologised, one hand on the wheel and the other gripping Nesta's jeaned thigh, rubbing soft circles into the fabric whilst she idly read her book in the front passenger seat.

If that were you, your soul would no doubt be going feral.

Then you felt it, you felt his had travel from your waist to your unbound hair, he ran his fingertips along your scalp and rested his palm on the top of your head, "Are you okay?"

It took you a moment to reply, trying to control the shivers that spread in your soul like wildfire at his touch in the place you had dreamt of, "Yeah, 'm good," your tone was relaxed as he worked his fingertips into the crown of your head, kissing away any pain from the jolting force that had pushed against it.

"Do you like that?" Eris purred, and luckily no one was paying attention to either of you, Nesta was reading, Cassian was driving, and Elain and Lucien were looking out of the window of the travelling car talking about whatever animals they saw in the clouds.

"It might feel nice," you admitted bashfully, knowing you couldn't lie to the sly fox whose eyes always found you no matter how far apart you were in a room.

Eris let out a low hum, tilting his head to the side as his fingers slid from your scalp and rested on the back of your neck, "You're a touch starved little thing, aren't you?"

"No," it came out a little harder than what you had intended it to, but he wasn't wrong, especially when he was the reason that you were so touch starved and basking in his affection.

Eris chuckled, seeing straight through you as always, as his hand ghosted down your spine whilst his other found your thigh and gave it a gentle squeeze, smirking as you wiggled on his lap, "Careful sweetheart, you have no idea how close I am to losing it," his voice was a rough whisper in your ear, he knew exactly what effect he had on you.

"I can't help it."

"I know, you have no idea the effect you have on me," his finger grazed down the earring that dangled against the curve of your jaw.

"Oh?"

Eris hummed, "One date, y/n. It's all I ask."

"Eris..."

His digits slipped between your thighs and he traced circles into the skin he found there, "Just one. Let me show you the life we can live together. Please?"

You weren't sure if it was his deep tone or his hands on your body that made your mind foggy, but he had convinced your head and heart to agree. Moving your head to meet his eye, you narrowed your own and pursed your lips, "Fine. One date. Make it worth my time, Vanserra."

Eris' whisky amber eyes glistened in the sunlight, "I think you forget how well I know you sweetheart. You're not a coffee date girl, or a movie date girl, you're not a hiker either. You're a dreamer, I see you all of the time looking at the stars, I see the heavens in your art, I see the sky in your eyes. I think I know the perfect way to make sure you never entertain anyone other than me."

The confidence he radiated made your thighs clench together, an act that didn't go unnoticed by him as his eyes darkened again with desire, he licked his lips, throwing his head back as you squirmed on his thighs again and did his best to suppress the moan bubbling in his throat.

"One chance, Vanserra. Make the most of it."

Eris straightened his posture and winked at you, letting his hands roam freely over your back and thighs, "One chance is all I need."

Authors Note

Just a short little drabble - I did a 13 hour shift today and your girl is TIRED.